[u][b]PITY - Application for Academic Year 2015/2016[/b][/u]

[b]Student Name:[/b] 
[INDENT] Greg Jackson[/INDENT]
[b]Gender: [/b] 
[INDENT]Male[/INDENT]
[b]Nationality: [/b]
[INDENT]United States[/INDENT]
[b]Age:[/b] 
[INDENT] 17[/INDENT]
[b]D.O.B.:[/b]
[INDENT] October 22nd, 1997[/INDENT]

[b][u]Appearance[/u][/b]
[img]http://www.cityoffilms.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/Bates-Motel.jpg[/img]

[b]Hair Color:[/b]
[INDENT] Brown[/INDENT] 
[b]Eye Color: [/b]
[INDENT]Blue[/INDENT] 
[b]Ethnicity: [/b]
[INDENT]Caucasian[/INDENT] 
[b]Height: [/b] 
[INDENT]170cm[/INDENT]
[b]Weight: [/b] 
[INDENT]50kg[/INDENT]

[b][u]Powers & Abilities[/u][/b]

[b]Power Name: Pariah[/b]
[INDENT][/INDENT] 
[b]Power Description:[/b]
[INDENT]I constantly emit some sort of field that makes people uncomfortable, making eye contact with me produces spontaneous (really really bad) headaches, and I constantly read the minds of those around me to find out what's hurting them. I can't help any of it.[/INDENT] 
[b]Abilities:[/b]
[INDENT] I can help people with emotional problems. I can also feel physical pain, so I'm okay with first aid and healing type stuff, as long as the person is unconscious, so they don't try to get away from me. The... field I produce gets more powerful with my emotions, so it's not too bad when I stay calm - people can still be around me, if they want, they just get sort of vaguely uncomfortable. I'm also really good at being alone, you know, when I want to be.[/INDENT] 
[b]Drawbacks & Weaknesses: [/b]
[INDENT]Nobody can look me in the eyes without severe pain, nobody ever really wants to be near me, animals hate me, and I always have other people's voices in my head. This is all compounded when I get upset - people start vomiting, screaming, freaking out, collapsing, it's... bad, when that happens. This can put a damper on a social life, as you might imagine.[/INDENT]  

[b][u]About You[/u][/b] 

[b]Family:[/b]
[INDENT]Father: Timothy Jackson
Mother: Abigail Jackson
Sister: Sarah Jackson[/INDENT]
[b]Personal Statement:[/b]
[INDENT] I think I'm a pretty normal person. Or, was. I'm from the town of Bellevue, Idaho, which is sort of the middle of nowhere, I guess. I've lived here all my life and I'm not especially well traveled, though I used to think a lot about going to Europe some day, maybe. I tend not to get out too much, I stay in my room a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I like to read, and that's... pretty much it for what I do, I read a lot. I'm a Catholic, and pretty religious, but don't worry, I'm not going to like, try and convert anyone. My family situation is good, but it's been sort of deteriorating since my mutation developed. My parents are... understandably weirded out by the whole thing, but my sister's been pretty understanding, all things considered. I haven't really been to school since it happened, either, the police wouldn't let me. I'm not, like, super smart or anything, but I used to do pretty well in class. I know this sounds sort of stilted, I'm sorry, I'm not great with people. It's been sort of... hard, since I got my powers, but I'm hoping this school can teach me how to control them, let me live a normal life again. Thanks for your time.[/INDENT]

[HIDER=Sample post] 
Everyone had good days and bad days - Greg was no different in that respect. Of course, most people's bad days involved a bad work experience or a string of rotten luck, not laying in bed with your hands on your heads, listening to every problem anyone within half a mile of you ever had.

Greg was having a very, very bad day.

[i]Black eye, beaten, bloody, hungry, hating, hated, tall things take from small things.[/i] The little boy down the street. Some of the other kids had taken his lunch money, and hit him when he tried to stop them.

[i]Left me, left me, skinny bitch, scratched an itch, did I not do enough?[/i] The woman in the next house over. Her husband had left her for a younger woman. She thought it was her fault.

[i]Bouncing baby boy, bloodshot, bare-faced, sick in the sink, it's coming closer coming closer it's [b]not my son.[/b][/i] Greg already knew that one.

Greg blinked his eyes and tried to focus them, becoming dimly aware that he was sitting in the corner of his room facing the door, wedged between his bed and the wall. His hands were on his temples, squeezing, trying to force the voices out of his head. It wasn't any use. He wanted to tell the woman that it wasn't her fault, tell the boy that he'd been very brave, tell the other one... so many things. But he couldn't, because they were out there, and he was in here, and it had to be that way for them.

There was a knocking at the door. "Greg? Is everything okay?" His sister's voice. Sarah's.

[i]Weaker, bleaker, burning from the inside out. He's crying, dying, it's made of him and growing dim.[/i] Someone's father was dying of cancer.

He opened his mouth to respond, but his throat was dry. He heard her pushing the door open and reached frantically for his glasses, but they were on the other side of the room. He threw his hands over his eyes just as was about to enter.

"Don't come in!" he snapped. He could feel the field around him. On good days it was flickering and weak, when he was calm and content, and his sister could enter the room, and talk to him as long as she could ignore the goosebumps and the unease. But today, when he could hear everything in the neighborhood, when he was tear-stained and hurting, the field was as strong as it ever was. It was like a wall, unwavering, and he knew that if she or anyone else stepped foot in it, they would get sick, or panic, or scream.

His eyes were still covered, but he heard her footsteps stop at the door. "Okay, Greg. I won't come in." Silence for a moment. Then, concerned, "Greg, did you do this?"

Greg peeked over his hands for a moment and scanned the room quickly. It was a disaster area. His chair was upended, books and papers were strewn all over the place, the sheets on the bed had been torn half to ribbons. Someone had clearly been punching the wall, and it wasn't hard to guess who judging from the blood on his knuckles.

He didn't respond, just sat with his eyes covered. They were silent, for a moment, and finally his little sister spoke up again. "Look, we're about to have dinner. Do you want me to bring you up something?"

[i]Kissed me, said she'd miss me. Wished me. Gone now, dawn now. Always was.[/i] Someone had been skipped out on. He wasn't happy about it.

Greg nodded. "I... yes. Yes, please, that would be good. Thank you."

She turned, and he heard the door closing again. "I'll leave it outside your door," she said, and was gone. Greg was alone again, with the voices.

((Also, Storm.))
[/HIDER]