[u][b]PITY - Application for Academic Year 2015/2016[/b][/u] [b]Student Name:[/b] Geneviève “Gene” Rose-Ore Simmone [INDENT][/INDENT] [b]Gender:[/b] Female [INDENT][/INDENT] [b]Nationality:[/b] Monégasque [INDENT][/INDENT] [b]Age:[/b] 19 [INDENT][/INDENT] [b]D.O.B.:[/b]December 4th, 1996 [INDENT][/INDENT] [b][u]Appearance[/u][/b] [hider="Stop fucking with the flash, it's startling my babies."] [img]https://angelawenum.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/8c4f3efe7fbeb22fbf477a7e6f85e31e.jpg?w=620[/img] [/hider] [b]Hair Color:[/b] Multiple albino labyrinth burmese pythons replace their hair [INDENT][/INDENT] [b]Eye Color:[/b] Dark yellow irises with slit pupils and bright yellow sclera. [INDENT][/INDENT] [b]Ethnicity:[/b] Caucasian [INDENT][/INDENT] [b]Height:[/b] 5'11 [INDENT][/INDENT] [b]Weight:[/b] 135lb [INDENT][/INDENT] [b][u]Powers & Abilities[/u][/b] [b]Power Name:[/b] Prehensile trichokinesis with healing potential [INDENT][/INDENT] [b]Power Description:[/b] [INDENT]"Asides from the obvious physical mutation, these snakes can grow up to 20 feet in length and inject a powerful healing serum. My physiology also mimics some that of a pythons .[/INDENT] [b]Abilities:[/b] [INDENT]In detail; what does your gift allow you to do?[/INDENT] "When father got me 'probed' the shrink typed this up" Gene is a copy cat Gorgon. Her power’s are very alike to those of the mythological serpentine beast. Her main power is prehensile trichokinesis; Otherwise known as “hair manipulation”. The difference between most with this power and Gene, is that her ‘hair’ is composed of snakes. The venom that each snake contains is not lethal, but the polar opposite. The “venom” is an extremely powerful healing substance that can cure aliments ranging from physical wounds to tumours. Gene’s yellow pythons are incredibly resilient and are not severed easily. Gene also manifests many of the physiological adaptations of a snake. This includes a flexibility that is parallel to professional contortionists. This is complimented by her collapsable spine and ribcage. While her eyesight is certainly lacking, her body is incredibly sensitive to vibrations and can detect movement through vibration in the air and ground. "Thanks doctor Duebeau." [b]Drawbacks & Weaknesses:[/b] [INDENT]In detail; what are the limitations and weaknesses of your power?[/INDENT] "I have not done this much writing in years, forgive the fact I keep copying and pasting to save my wrists." Gene has incredibly bad vision. Her prescription for both eyes is an average of -5.00. Due her bizarre eye physiology, she can not wear contacts and is forced to wear glasses. The snakes can not extent past 20 feet. The do not move more than 30mph at their fastest. Gene is cold blooded; She is incredibly sensitive to changes in temperature. If her surroundings become too cold, she either enters a sleep like state and can even die. If an individual strikes her snakes, she feels the pain just as strongly as the snake does. They are appendages, not separate entities although they do display a level of sentient awareness. "Thanks doctor Duebeau." [b][u]About You[/u][/b] [b]Family:[/b] Edward William Simmone (Father) Rose-marie Simmone ([DECEASED]Mother) Shirley Vontutton ([EX]Step-mother) Cameron-sue Sagness-Knight ([EX]Step-mother) Edward Jr. Simmone (brother) Maximillian Simmone-Vontutton (Step/half brother) Millienum-marie Simmone-Knight (step/half Sister) [INDENT][/INDENT] [b]Personal Statement:[/b] [INDENT]I was born in Monaco to the second richest Monégasque family next to the Grimaldi's. My father was the heir who fell hopelessly in love with my mother while he was visiting the Ukraine. My mother was definitely the one who wore the pants, or so the servants use to tell me. My father was a Lord Henry, Dorian Gray-esque sort of man. Aesthetic was everything to him and I certainly agreed with this belief. My mother was far more pragmatic, more amused by what laid underneath, rather than how pretty it’s shell was. Clearly they got married, and eventually she did fall for all his quirks, or so I was told. I was born as I currently am. My father being a superstitious and under educated fellow thought I was a curse and almost had all my little snakies cut off. My mother put up a huge fit, she adored my pythons. She thought they were "exotic" and played with them almost as much as she did me. Small countries breed small minds, and apparently by the national height average here, small people as well; Monaco was one of the top funders of Human's against Mutants, with reported donations even coming from the Grimaldi's after a band of mutants tried to over throw them in 1994. So, I was a bit of a coveted secret of the family. Sometimes I think, even if Monaco had been more mutant friendly, my dad still would have locked me up because I distorted the nuclear family of the playboy and mail order bride. I never really respected that narrow family model. My father did lavish me with anything I wanted, and at one point even tried to spoil my babies. Least to say I would rather have bleeding haemorrhoids than ever experience my father trying to feed pythons that do not require their own substance. My mother just always laughed at him. Comparatively, I just stared blankly at him until he bribed me with designer dolls and outfits. My father built me my own wing of our mansion with a sealed outdoor portion. So I guess artificial outdoors was more accurate. Hey, wasn't all that bad. I could see my utter enjoyment in the two way mirror. There's nothing better than seeing the rain and never feeling it, right? I found friends closer than one would figure. My abilities were always potent and I would bemuse myself with them. My pythons became my closest friends at a really early age. I guess because I never really had the chance to meet friends or even really need them, I became very content being on my own. My mother was my hero growing up. I write this because I figure this trope is important in these types of high school essays. Not that I ever went to an actual high school, or school. There was no need, my mother had a teaching degree and was my tutor up until the 2nd grade before the incident. She taught me to embrace my differences and use them to better myself. She was invaluable for that, I do not think I would have survived with out her constant preaching of self love. “Variety was the spice of life”, and I am as rare and as luxurious as saffron. My mother passed away in a car crash when I was seven years old. I was not allowed to attend the public funeral, instead my father held a small private ceremony in our home. My mother’s death caused me to become incredibly depressed and angsty. Asides from all the other on-goings of my life, this was the one tragedy that actually impacted me. I could careless about the ignorance of my father and my country. I started to pick up embroidery to distract myself from the overwhelming sadness that captured me. Embroidery was a very popular hobbies in the Ukraine while my mother was a child and it made me feel closer to her, even post mortum. I started to make quilts, pillows and things of those genre. My father would often pay me out of a sort of pity and allow me to spend my money as I pleased. This lead to a drug problem. Cocaine was popular among my servants and I had money and spinal fluid to share. It eventually progressed to herion and all sorts of opiates. I never really cared about my own health, the amusement I felt seemed like a fair enough trade. I started buying pounds and then kilos, never fearing police since even my birth certificate wasn’t on government and police files. I am quite hedonistic and impulsive, as my father’s euphemism would put it. I stopped when my father introduced me to a mutant who’s ability was to nullify the power’s of anothers. My pythons dropped into strands of golden hair and my face almost instantly sunk in. I looked too much like my mother to look like such a drug addict. It summoned a storm of powerful emotions that shock the core of my being. So, I stopped and it was a painful process but I grew from it. The extra money I had went towards expensive toiletries and expanding my wardrobe from baggy t-shirts and boxers to more extravagant things; Things my mother would of loved. This mutant also revealed to me that my pythons contained a healing ability that kept me perpetually healthy. Which explained why I never had an overdose during my darker years. Over this time my father married and remarried a couple times, to women I never really met. I had a couple of half siblings whom I occasionally entertained in my wing of the house. I was never really close to any of them. I got a physical and mental exam two years ago which revealed I had an antisocial personality disorder coupled with sever depression. Which I thought was an extreme exaggeration. I am tired of being hidden, a bird in a golden cage is just as discontent as a bird in a wooden one. I hope to join PITY to escape my oppressive country and shameful family situation. [/INDENT] [HIDER=Sample post] “Your mother would not like this sort of behaviour.” A dainty male voice scolded in French, Monaco’s native language. Gene rolled her eyes dismissively at the notion her father trying to discipline her. She began to slice through a large, alabaster crystal mound that laid on top a silver tray. Gene was brazen with her drug addiction, she did not even attempt to hide the illicit substance or its use from her estranged father. The pythons began to dance upwards, glaring at her father as subtle hisses background their aggression. “Papa, mother would hardly approve of half of your actions as well. Defiance apparently must be hereditary”, she spoke smoothly, brushing the drug into thin lines with the use of a single razor blade, held loosely between two manicured fingers. “Genevieve! Control your pets! I can not tolerate such explicit behaviour in front of the younger children.” “They see me more as servant than a sibling…Why worry? just hand me a maid uniform and the problem is solved.” she mumbled back, venomous yellow eyes matching her father’s glare. Her pythons slowly lowered, curling around her neck in a protective scarf. “—Plus my quarters are locked and their are more drugs at their private school than in my room.” She lied, minimizing the quantity of cocaine her chamber’s held. “Genevieve Rose-Ore Simmone! Do you think I am stupid? You’re debit card reports almost 40,000 euros withdrawn in cash in the past four weeks and you want me to believe that, that measly pile is all you have?” “No, papa of course I do not think you are stupid.” Gene replied, stressing each word with a sense of exhaustion as she had done so many times in the past. “You spend the same amount on tips in a month, that is petty change for this family. I would almost dare to say you should be proud of how conservative I am…” She trailed off, a blanche line disappearing up her nostril as she spoke. “You are being blatantly disrespectful and I do not appreciate this tone. You are a part of this family and should act like it!” Gene paused, raising her eyebrow in disbelief at his over familiar statement. She was far from angry, she was more of less just impressed by the sheer stupidity of the emotional manipulation he was trying to pull. Her lips curved into a smirk, she shook her head with a subtle chuckle. The notion that he was her father in any sense but biological was hilarious in her mind. “Show me one family photo with me in it.” Gene cynically challenged him, smiling at the stumped reaction of her frustrated father. “Yeah, alright. You can leave now.”[/HIDER]