Andrew Andy Marlowe

18

Male

Student/Journalist

Upon meeting Andy, most people assume that he's either been very sick or has forgotten to eat for some weeks. There's a hungry, haggard look to him, something about the fierce stare, the intense eyes and the lines under them. He tends to smell of coffee, cigarette smoke and ink, all of which combine to paint the poicture of a man/boy who hasn't eaten enough, slept enough or seen enough sun in the last few weeks but has drunk an entire Brazilian harvest's worth of coffee. But rather than look rakish or dashingly dishevelled, he tends to look melancholy and lonesome. The image of the forlorn writer isn't helped by his passion for hipster scarves, androgynous hoodies and Kerouac-esque jackets.

He talks fast and gesticulates wildly, whatever the subject. Who should get the last beer draws just as much animation and fervour from him as the fate of paper journalism in the west. That's when his eyes light up and lose their doleful quality, as his voice slowly raises in volume until a waiter asks him to quiet down because he's upsetting the other customers. It's usually about then that he bashfully gathers up his book bag and rushes off, back bent by the weight of words and ears tinged a little red from embarrassment.

Anyone talking to Andy can quickly come to a couple of conclusions; he cares about things and he doesn't take care of himself. The first is not hard to come to, as the force of his conviction practically bowls most people over. He'll talk your legs off discussing the comparative merits of Westerosi houses and then launch into a detailed and dedicated dissertation on the inherent inequalities in Presidential Primaries, both of which he seems almost fanatically invested in. People, too, capture his attention and more than one friend has had to remind him that he has his own work to do after asking for help. Those that know him quickly learn that the subjects and people about which Andy cares are nearly numberless and almost indiscriminate.

The second is noticeable in his constant snacking and yawning. Just from looking at him, you can tell he was up all night writing a furious column about the untenable state of Verona's New Town housing market or arguing online with climate change denier. And he probably forgot breakfast because he was editing a friend's article for the Herald's website with one hand while putting the finishing touches to his own with the other. It's like all the effort and energy he puts into caring about other people, other places and other things sucks away any willingness to worry about himself. He eats when he's reminded to and goes to school when he's made to, and while he likes to think of himself as independent and self reliant, he can only rely upon himself to miss meals and sleep.

Andy has known he was gay for some years and made a show out of coming out to his parents, whose reaction was a complete lack of surprise, but he's never had a boyfriend. If you were to ask him, he'd likely launch into a spiel about the problematic aspects of the word 'boyfriend' and how the connection it implies doesn't need to be labelled in such a brutally clinical way. And while he would believe what he's saying, he wouldn't be being entirely honest. The truth is, Andy knows who he likes and desperately wishes they liked him back enough to accept a label, any label. At this time, though, it seems they do not.

Born into one of Verona's old money families, Andy has wanted for little since he was able to talk. The Marlowes have been here for generations and have no intention of leaving any time soon. Daddy Marlowe, Christopher, has interests in real estate development and mama Marlowe, Leane, manages an online dating site, both jobs that they can happily manage from their Riveredge townhouse. They were pleased to have a healthy young boy to continue the dynasties, happy with him right up until he started to read independently with, of course, free range access to the internet.

At first it was little things like questions at dinner. "What happens when someone can't pay their rent dad?" and the like, nothing more than a healthy interest in his parent's occupation. they humoured him by answering them and encouraged him towards learning more. Who knows, maybe he'd decide that the family business was to his liking and they wouldn't even need to push him into running it. Then came more probing questions as Andy grew into a young man. "Do you have a section for same sex couples mom?" and other dangerously liberal inquiries. And that was only the beginning.

Andy drifted away from his parents like a log caught in a tidal flow, his goals and ideology diverging from theirs with almost vindictive speed. He stopped going by Andrew and insisted that he'd rather be called Andy. When they said right, he defiantly said left. When they said red, he muttered blue. And when they said law school, he said journalism. Nothing wrong with journalism, they said, nothing wrong at all, as long as you own the paper. And, as luck would have it, the Verona Herald had being undergoing hard times recently and had just gone into receivership. Seeing it as an opportunity to teach their upstart offspring a lesson about the real world.

Andy was given editorial control over the failing paper and a stipend. You want to be a journalist, they said, so prove you can do it. And if it fails, you go to law school like a good little boy. They of course expected him to fold under the weight of school work and his new responsibilities but they hadn't dared anticipate his reaction; he ditched as much of his schoolwork as he could possibly afford to and dedicated his time almost exclusively to the paper. And it was hard, no doubt about it. He recruited friends to help him put out content at a steady rate, cut the paper down to a quarter of its previous size and put near all of his money into moving online.

And now the paper, or at least its website, dominate Andy's days (and nights) like nothing else. He falls asleep bent over his keyboard, wakes up to new articles and reviews them over breakfast. He's rarely even seen in school anymore, only coming to the most essential of classes and, even then, his mind is generally somewhere else. At his friend and sibling's insistence, he still makes time to have fun, going to the odd party or sports game. As it is, he sleeps no more than a handful of hours a night (supplemented by the odd 12 hour burnout hibernation and frequent catnaps) and looks like a zombie half of the time.

His parents, meanwhile, are unsure of how to feel. On the one hand, he's clearly a hard worker, not the layabout liberal they feared he might be. On the other, the prospect of law school is vanishing into the distance. Still, they are nothing if not honourable and have allowed him not only to keep the paper but to get away with skipping school and cutting class. The principal is an old friend, boys will be boys and so on, and Andy is alerted when there's a class he really can't miss.

Recently, there has been plenty of material for stories at the very least. The inexplicable events all over the town, the mysterious illness and now the high street fiasco. Interesting times...

Accelerated Learning (and Knowledge Retention)

Mastermind

Andy can master new skills, grasp new concepts and retain knowledge more easily than any normal human. Where the average eighteen year old might need to do three pages of problems to understand a mathematical concept, Andy will pick up the pattern and be able to understand how it works within the first problem or so. Similarly, practising something like juggling takes a many hours to pay off, accelerated learning allows for results to be clearly visible inside a few minutes.

This power does nothing to boost creativity or motivation, so Andy still needs to study the subject he wants to master and is no better at coming up with new concepts or ideas than he was before. Neither are his physical abilities improves at all, so any skills he learns will have to be accomplished with his abysmal hand-eye coordination and motor skills.

Abigail Harlow, wrongly referred to as Abigail Lockwood

17

Female

High school student - Part time waitdress at the Salem Diner (Weekdays:Evening Shift)

A short, scrawny woman with pale blonde hair which reaches a little ways down her spine. Abigail’s nose is small and tilted upwards a little; she has dark blonde eyebrows, flawless teeth and thin lips to give her a bright and dazzling smile. Her eyes are the most notable feature - deep blue, exuding warmth. Abigail’s body is frail and flat - she has pale skin, bony wrists and small extremities. She’s almost entirely flat-chested - an A cup on a good day - and she has a multitude of faint nicks and scratches along her elbows, knees, hands, ankles, and feet. Standing at 5’2, she’s hardly an imposing figure.

The predominant trait that Abigail has is undeniably her energy. There isn’t a single movement that isn’t lively and animated; she exaggerates, yells, gesticulates, skips, jumps and fidgets her way through life. She has this childish playfulness and a very optimistic outlook on life that allows her to rarely take things seriously and compels her to do what she wants regardless of what other people may think of her. Couple this with a painfully short attention span and it becomes obvious why Abigail seems to always be the one neck-deep in trouble.

Perhaps it’s this natural flair for being at the receiving end of a good scolding that’s made her into a sympathetic individual, capable of understanding the underdog and every so often pausing to lend a hand here and there, but don’t get lured in by these moments of kindness - her default mode is ‘asshole’, and she learnt it from her asshole friends. She’s thick-skinned and takes an insult by throwing another, nastier insult in return or just generally getting pissed off. You’d have to do a lot to make her cry, even more to make her cry in public - which brings us on to her next charming trait. She’s dogmatic, stubborn to the point of making that pretty little face of hers seem temptingly punchable. Once she has an idea in mind there are very few who have the ability to make her stop and consider her actions.

Of course, it would be a bit too foolish to think Abigail hasn’t learnt anything from her mistakes; she’s a deceitful, disingenuous little shit too. She keeps what she knows to herself and hoards just as much gossip as she does freshly-polished cutlery, using those tidbits of information for blackmail material, insult ammunition or components in whatever devious scheme she happens to be planning at the moment. When she needs to be, she can be serious and she certainly doesn’t boast about her cunning, often masking it up with a generous helping of jokes and playfulness.

In short, a very cheery, upbeat and mildly eccentric kid who’s learnt enough in the back-alleys of the city to hold her own when she needs to.

Two legs and a dick.

Her memories start with one of those cheap toys you get out of a cereal box, the smell of stale cigarette smoke, and the TV running the 24hr news in the dark. Abigail grew up in a shitty apartment and her early childhood consisted of fuzzy impressions and the general feeling of apprehension and uncertainty; she doesn’t dwell over what happened aged 0 to 9. Late one evening in November, her life suddenly burst into colour and sound as the police sirens pulled up outside her door and the men in blue ripped through her home and arrested her parents. She offered one of them her cereal box prize.

Life got way more interesting after that. Abigail started talking with some of the cops who took her parents; she trailed around after one of them in particular as he sorted out the papers for her to move to a cleaner (but still undeniably shitty) foster home nearby. The official sentence on her biological parents was the possession of illicit substances, and Abigail got used to the reality she probably wouldn’t see them for a long time fairly quickly. Besides, the foster home was much bigger than her old place and she met a load of kids she hadn’t seen at school before. The first couple of years  sliding across the linoleum in her socks and getting to watch proper cartoons in this bigger, better living space were pretty enjoyable...but the allure faded pretty quickly. What was the point of staying cooped up in another building 24/7 when there was so much more that she could explore?

After being shunted into a government foster home, Abigail drifted through her life. She failed her classes, went out past curfew and hung out with people she should’ve avoided. After being put into juvenile detention for 6 months due to shoplifting, A close relative decided to privately foster her in his home. Even with the extra guidance, Abigail continued to struggle in school and couldn’t hold down a part-time job.

Verona was a last-ditch effort. The move wasn’t permanent, but the city held too much power over Abigail and she needed to be completely cut off from her old life if she had any chance in succeeding academically. It took longer for her to make real friends and she got a job in the diner as a waitress, but she still harbours a sense of alienation when she goes out past curfew. It wasn’t HER life, the kids here felt too sheltered. Too middle-class. It felt like she was on holiday for a very long time.

All she had to do was pass her exams and get an internship somewhere. Easy enough, right? Even though she was a bit of a trouble-magnet, Abigail was certain nothing exciting was going to happen in the small-town capital of the middle of nowhere.

Poor kid hasn’t even realised she’s got a superpower yet.

Unnoticeability

Mastermind

The ability to shift a person’s perception so they are unable to register Abigail’s presence.

CCTV/infrared or any other forms of technology will be able to detect her. Her thoughts are not masked. At present, loud noises that she makes are easy to detect, and she can only consciously go unnoticed for a short period of time.

Melanie Fa Bain
_{- Goes by Mel or Fa usually. No preference.}

23

Female

Cashier and tarot reader at Pagan Dreams. She also helps out at her family's funeral home, Bain Funeral Home, and the connected cemetery.
_{- The family business just runs in Melanie's blood, so she happily helps out with funeral services and grave maintenance. When it comes to Pagan Dreams, however, she is merely drawn to the cute little store by aesthetic alone, and her hobby of collecting oddities has grown graciously since her employment there.}

To the eyes of many, Melanie Fa isn't much of a looker. With a round face, soft features, wide-spread eyes, and glossy, self-cut hair, she is quite an oddity in of herself. Make up is an unknown concept to Melanie, but due to her spoiling parents she is often presented with various colorful and glittery kits that she will at times paint herself in a rather "imaginative" kind of way. Thanks to her mother, Melanie has a much higher pitched, daintier voice, and her Chinese features stand out prominently due to her mixed heritage. Her eyes, though wide set, are almond shaped and dark in color, and her lips are doll-like and often split into a wide, curious smile. Her hair hangs just below her shoulders and is often tied back into low pony tails or tiny braids,

Much like the strange things she hunts for and collects, Melanie holds herself with an aura of mystery and elusiveness. She walks turned in on herself, as if protecting her chest from some unknown attack, and often holds an expression of intrigue even during the most drab of conversations. Being literally bone-thin, Melanie often looks as though her clothes are eating her, and perhaps that is how she likes it! Her fashion sense is rather interesting, consisting of outfits she has torn apart and sewn back together. In all honestly, she is best described as "trashy" in terms of what she wears, but it seems Melanie considers herself to be quite fashion forward!

Despite being a college drop out and a recluse, Melanie happily speaks her mind to strangers and those in town who actually know her (whether they like her or don't). Posture wise she is a bit awkward, walking around with her head down and searching rather than leaving it high to keep her shoulders from turning in. Her steps are dainty and silent, a side effect from working in a graveyard-- and this is because her father always told her, "Walk like you wish the dead to keep sleeping". Besides all that, she has no noticeable tattoos save for a colorless UFO pinned directly to her collarbone, and her arms are covered in cuts and bruises from her treks into the woods.

Melanie Fa is just your normal, everyday, bone-collecting, crystal cleaning, trash-wearing girl! Well, actually, most to none of those traits can be considered normal, but perhaps that is just to her liking. A woman with a curiosity that goes deeper than most gold mines, Melanie can often be seen as the towns nosy-kook, asking various questions to neighbors or customers when she is in the mood to talk. Her fashion sense and odd hobbies often keep people from approaching, but it doesn't seem to bother her too much. Her mother jokingly calls her a recluse, but she might not be too far off. Melanie just likes the quiet, and the silence offered in her room or at Pagan Dreams keeps her content in various ways, and with the way people avoid her she just ends up in the quiet more often.

She doesn't feel emotions too strongly. If anything, her curiosity towards the occult and unknown is what keeps her going throughout the day. Take away her hobby and all that is left is a quiet, mousy girl with a habit of staring at one thing for too long. She's intelligent but a bad student, and was unable to keep up with her college work which lead to her eventual drop out when she turned twenty-one. This bump in the road actually hit her harder than she might let on, and there are days when some may notice a forlorn and guilty look in Melanie's eye. Despite this, Melanie attempts to keep a happy-go-lucky attitude about life and wanders through Verona always looking for something new to discover. Where most might hate their home town, Melanie adores the rustic little Verona, and she lets her pride out in her journal entries and curious rambles.

Despite her light disposition, Melanie easily succumbs to lethargy when she is unable to do the things she loves, and she is prone to bouts of serious depression during the autumn and winter months. Being cooped up in one place for too long without an occult book to read or an animal bone to research leaves her feeling rather antsy, and she is much too meek to defend herself from Verona's thick-skinned bullies. Even with her bright curiosity, Melanie can get lost in her own head, and most may notice her day dreaming throughout the day. She is easily distracted and easily pushed down, but still somehow manages to pull herself back up to find more dead things and pretty rocks in the woods. Nothing can kill her vibe for too long. She is nothing else if not resilient.

When it comes to sex, Melanie is rather uninterested. Identifying as asexual, she would much rather form meaningful friendships than sexual relations. Then again, due to Melanie's odd habits and hobbies, she is barely able to make any friends worth keeping. If she were ever to get romantically involved with anyone, they would have to be completely fine with her distaste for contact and her interests. Anyone who can accept her may have a shot at winning her attention.

Born to George and Fa Lui Bain, Melanie Fa was raised up in Verona, Washington as the possible heir to her father's funeral home. She was raised well, spoiled stupid, and basically grew into her odd ways by the time she was seven thanks to her parents' own weird interests in the dead and occult. The first oddity she found for herself was what her father called an "Indian Arrowhead", or a stone that looked like one at least. She was endlessly fascinated by the little object, and kept it hidden away in a small box below her bed. Later through the years, that box grew full of strange artifacts she considered "odd"-- clean bones of some poor dead bird or deer, muddy crystals found in the river near the family's house, antique candy wrappers she found while looking through main street shops, her own fallen-out baby teeth; anything and everything others may consider weird.

Her hobbies only grew as she got older, and her family's wish for her to take over the funeral home were shot dead when Melanie actually got into a college of her choice. She was hoping to get out of Verona for a bit to expand her collection and perhaps get a degree in archaeology. The two years she spent out of Washington, however, were some of the hardest in her life. Without the comfort of her family and due to her weird interests she barely accumulated a social standing and was endlessly stressed by the amount of school work she had no interest in completing. If anything came out of her college years, it would be the gathering of much more expensive artifacts. Skulls and geodes and charms and old, old history tomes; everything she found out of Verona was much bigger and much more real.

Sadly, skulls and geodes couldn't keep her in school, and Melanie returned to Verona at the age of twenty-one with no degree and no inspiration to go back out into the world. Her parents happily let her back into their home, and she was set back on the path to inherit the funeral home. Being much more calm in her familiar home surroundings, Melanie sought out a job at the local wiccan shop and continues investigating the woods surrounding the town in search of new oddities. The next two years of her life were spent working as a clerk and tarot card reader at Pagan Dreams, watching the stars for any crashing UFOs, and searching the undergrowth for any rotting corpses.

Everything changed that one fateful week, when the odd sickness struck Verona's residents. Melanie herself was caught with the illness and suffered intense migraines and fatigue for two days straight. When she finally came to after a long, long sleep, she felt fine. Oddly enough, she felt completely okay. Nothing was amiss... For the day at least, When night came, and Melanie was getting ready to sleep, a sudden misty feeling over took her mind, and a voice that was her own but not under her control whispered, "In the rain and mud tomorrow soon, the Madame will arrive to collect her boon."

Obviously confused and smitten by the strange prophecy she uttered, Melanie quickly wrote down what she remembered and read it over fifty times before drifting into a light sleep. The next morning, rain splattered against her window, and downstairs she could hear the deranged whines of an older woman. As Melanie creaked down the stairs, she saw a an unfamiliar face. The woman in question was requesting something her husband was buried with, something that was beneficial to her. A boon, if you will.

In the rain and mud tomorrow soon.

The Madam will arrive to collect her boon.

Melanie never doubted a coincidence, never ever. But she would need more research before anything massive could be proven... And what was she trying to prove, you may ask? Well, is it possible to become a prophet over night, of course!

Precognitive Speech

Mystic

Melanie is able to recite prophecies of the future involuntarily. Normally she falls into a trance-like state, and while she often remembers what she says after the fact she has no rhyme or reason to how they initially start coming to her. The prophecies come out in riddles most of the time, leaving Melanie and those around her up to figuring out what the mysterious future event actually means. Those are able to tell when Melanie is about to start reciting her prophecies when her face takes on a completely emotionless mask. Eventually, Melanie will be able to control her trances and speak of future events on her own wishes.

- Melanie's power is speech-based. Gag her mouth and she will have no other way to use her power.
- Al of her tellings are unexpected and she is unaware of them before the trance takes over.
- They come out in the form of riddles, and take some time to decipher.
- Melanie's memory of her own prophecy may fade over time if she does not immediately write down what she has heard.

Laverne Claire Bryant

But she definitely prefers being known as 'Vern'; that way she can pretend it comes from 'Veronica'. Or...Vernonica. Vern will do in most situations, however.

Twenty Five

Female

Cartoonist. Currently draws and writes a syndicated newspaper comic but has aspirations of being an animator. Cartoonist sounds a lot better in conversation, at least up until the part where she has to clarify the way to actually see her work.

Vern has what some might consider a...slovenly sort of appearance about her. Sure there's a somewhat attractive person to be found, but one has to get past the bags under her eyes, the slightly pear-shaped physique that gives a...somewhat healthy amount of chub (which she promised she'd work on...eventually) and the various stains that mar her outfits on a regular basis. Vern is not exactly a walking hot mess, but it's hard to imagine there's a more lazy looking person in all of Verona. Lazy is a fair way to describe how Vern carries herself, especially given her hobby of wearing mismatched clothing out of a habit of merely throwing on whatever smells and looks clean at any given moment. It's fortunate that she is somewhat tall, at least taller than the average, standing at 5'10" which has afforded her some natural physical attributes that are enhanced by her physique: namely that she parades around in shorts semi-consistently. There's another motive for doing so, of course, in that the back of her right calf is blessed with a little tattoo of a bee with a dumb, goofy grin and googly-eyes. It was her first one, the first 'character' she ever drew. Its name was Busy Bee.

Her hair is of a medium length and chestnut brown in color. She doesn't style it any particular way, making it look more unkempt and forever topped with bedhead than anything else. Her eyes are dark blue in color and possess a dissatisfaction of life that only comes with experience and a lack of sleep. Typically, Vern doesn't wear makeup other than the instances when she has a date or a meeting of some sort. If ever someone uttered the phrase 'starving artist' no one would look to Vern for proof of that.

Vern isn't abrasive, but that doesn't make it any easier for her to get along with people - not for lack of trying but rather...lack of grace. The day that adults gave lessons on social etiquette was a day Vern missed. It's not unheard of for Vern to belch loudly in public and then laugh about it like a child. She even chews with her mouth open. Manners escape her, and yet that's often the worst thing people can say about Vern, that she lacks anything resembling grace or, well, femininity. At her worse, Vern comes off as gross but harmless more than anything else; there are probably those who find her lack of care refreshing. Doubtful, but then the world is a rather mysterious place, especially lately.

There's nothing about Vern that plays as shy. She's practically an open book for better or worse. She knows enough not to blab secrets and the like but with a somewhat loud mouth and lack of a filter, she isn't someone to go telling life changing secrets to. She knows not to blab but sometimes it just slips out, y'know? Lacking in what some call 'book smarts' thanks to her completely below average acedemic record through high school, Vern makes up for it by understanding people on a personal level. She fancies herself something of an armchair psychiatrist at time - understanding people and their motivations has helped her comic last on the strength of its characters.

Still, perhaps because of her rather off putting antics, Vern is a lonely woman all the same. She craves camaraderie even as those she thinks like her constantly find excuses to not hang out with her. It's not a matter of 'growing up' despite her somewhat childish antics and behavior patterns, it's that she doesn't know how to truly talk to people and make connections. Not for lack of trying, either.

Though quick to make a quip and never missing a chance to indulge in some self deprecation, it's seemingly not enough for people to latch onto. She might be a somewhat successful cartoonist, but Verona's residents are in no hurry to hoist Vern up on their shoulders and exclaim their joy. Some might say she tries too hard. Vern disagrees. She doesn't try at all. All of who she is as a person is up front, it's up to others to take it or leave it; she's not about to make drastic changes even if it means a life of wanting.

At this point it's desperation more than anything else. Vern has never had a relationship, though she has gone on a fair share of dates. She has the desire for a meaningful relationship and possibly even more than that, but every attempt at forging something has been, well, a disaster. It's not as if her options are limited, considering she's open to dating just about anyone with a pulse, nor are her standards making her bat out of her league...she just....hasn't managed to find someone that connects with her on any level.

Most dates tend to lose interest right around the time she admits to either drawing a newspaper comic or being a virgin. She can't tell which is more off putting. Maybe it's the belching.

For as long as Laverne could remember, she was doodling. It started when she was a little girl, drawing little pictures so her mother could hang them on the fridge; of course, she never did - hang pictures on the fridge - since Vanessa Bryant was more concerned with finishing another bottle of wine than in praising the artistic work of her daughter. It wasn't a broken home, just an unfortunate one. Vanessa Bryant was addicted to wine and lotto tickets while Edward Bryant was having numerous affairs with his students - his position as a professor of literature at the local college did have its perks. His lecherous actions certainly explained the wine.

Laverne found refuge in art, needing an outlet to channel her creativity and lack of supervision and substantial affection shown to her in her formative years. After her mother passed away from alcohol poisoning, Vern was sent to live with her grandmother who had retired in Verona; there was no way Edward was going to raise a daughter on his own, what with his sexual escapades turning into a bit of a scandal on the news and all. Vern's grandmother, Laverne (hence the name) was a bit more accepting of her, in that she actually put a drawing on the wall. Granted, it was a drawing that was featured in the local newspaper, but it was the thought that counted above all.

Vern skated her way through high school, graduating just barely and not going onto college. She doubled down on her art, believing she could break into animation or some other art related industry. College was a waste of time, which she had, and money, which she did not. After graduating high school, Vern worked part time jobs while she built up a portfolio. After her grandmother passed away, Vern self-published a small little graphic novel that was a fictionalized version of her grandmother's life, which was highly embellished but they were based on stories told to her all the same.

That graphic novel was enough to get a meeting with a national publishing house who offered her a contract to write a comic for the newspaper. Her comic strip, 'Swingles' was a sarcastic look at modern dating through the eyes of an eternally single twenty-something. Observational humor mixed with relate-able characters made Swingles a bit of a hit among people that still read newspaper comic strips. Didn't exactly help Vern's personal and social life, but at least she was able to quit her burger flipping job before it became her career.

Verona has been her home since moving in with her grandmother and she doubts she'll ever relocate. It has pretty much everything she needs, other than human contact, and it is the perfect place to find inspiration to use in her art and cartooning. She dreams of being an animator or a graphic novelist, but is, at the moment, content enough with her relative obscurity.

Following a rather unfortunate bout with illness, Vern discovered the party trick to end all party tricks and naturally looked for any reason to show off. It's cool as all hell and more than a little impractical. But that doesn't concern her. She's going to show off to everyone that will listen.

Rainbow Manipulation

Aberration

Fitting for one whose occupation involves coloring, Vern can manipulate colors. Well, the colors of the rainbow anyway. At the moment she can do little other than making a rainbow appear, arching into her palms. With time, more specific uses could be learned, based on the colors of the rainbow and more color-based uses. She wants to one day fly around on a rainbow because how cool would that be. A natural rainbow can be manipulated as well, though her ability with that is currently nonexistent.

Being exposed to so much light at such close proximity means that if she shows off (because really, who wouldn't?) for too long it can damage her eye sight, possibly beyond repair. She draws her power from the colors around her, she can't just internally make a rainbow - and if there are none of the colors that make up a rainbow then her color manipulation does little to nothing. Only colors in the rainbow can be manipulated by her, no off shoots or blends. ROYGBIV only.

Karen Scaletti

She doesn't have a middle name, at least not one she was ever told. And as far as nicknames go...none exist. She's just...Karen.

28

Female

Most people in Verona assume that Karen's job is a volunteer with how often she's spotted around town at various events. Community festival? Karen's on staff. Food drive for the homeless? Karen's there collecting cans and possibly organizing the whole thing. She's never met a fundraiser or social, community function she's disliked. But being an activist-slash-volunteer isn't her occupation so much as it is her hobby. Volunteers don't get paid.

Karen's actual occupation is as the morning radio host on the local FM talk station. It's mostly for people who work overnights or long shifts but the job allows her to stay up to date on current community events while also engaging with people on air. Wake up in the morning with Karen!

People have never told Karen that she has a face for radio as that would be incredibly rude; they have, however, said she has a bit of a squirrel-like face. In that she has puffy cheeks and a small, cute way about her features. Her eyes, which are a muddy brown color, are frequently wide with wonder - she is someone that wears her expressions the way people wear jeans. It's not that she's overly excitable or anything, just the perks of being a rather expressive individual.

Lanky is a word to describe her physical stature, particularly her arms. While not a waif, she's a slender woman with little in the way of actual curves. Boyish is a term that was used when she was growing up and she is loathe to repeat it but at times it is rather apt, if only in regards to physical attributes. Her hair is often in a bob or pixie cut, short, sweet, and out of the eyes - perfect for someone that so often has to put on a hairnet and serve up some food for the less fortunate. Her body is unmarred by ink and also a lack of muscle definition. The gym is not a place she frequents but thanks to her metabolism and, truly, her diet she has managed to keep her slender build without much hassle.

Her height is about average, coming in at five foot seven, and her sense of fashion is...unremarkable. Jeans and a sweater most days, long sleeve t-shirts in warmer weather, nothing to really accentuate her features. It works for her, however, as she is comfortable just being herself. She gets gussied up for formal events and the like, but in most situations the only thing people can say about Karen is how unremarkable she is compared to other, more immediately attractive sorts.

She considers herself cute, though. Like squirrels. Who doesn't like squirrels.

It should come as no surprise to anyone, given her hobbies, that Karen is a very selfless individual. Almost to the point where it seems like she's trying to compensate or else make up for something terrible. As far as anyone knows, however, Karen is just one of the rare genuine nice people in the world. They do exist. Karen cares about Verona and its citizens, good and bad, which is why she puts herself at the forefront of any community event. She just wishes to spread optimism in a world that has far too much cynicism for her liking.

Of course, while she presents herself as selfless and happy and cheerful to the population as a whole, it betrays how she often feels on the inside. Karen has suffered from depression and still feels some of the lingering effects. Optimism is all well and good, but when she returns home to an apartment with two cats it's kind of hard to feel anything but cliche. It used to be worse, to the point where she wears long sleeves for a very specific reason, and she believes herself to be better now, but at times its hard to keep on smiling, especially when it feels like her efforts go to waste. Sure, she doesn't require thanks, but it would be nice every now and then, y'know?

While expressive, Karen isn't overtly emotional. She doesn't let her emotions take control in public - save for crying at sad movies or when coming off as over eager in order to excite a crowd into action. In fact she's a fairly guarded person in most regards; able to use her volunteer work as something similar to a mask. Karen believes that people are inherently good though still doesn't trust easily - truly, deeply trust anyway; if she was as trusting as she would like to be she wouldn't hide her arms behind cloth. Karen is a bit of a romantic, however, for all the good it's done her.

Karen's far from a wreck or a mess, but there's more under the surface than her plucky, happy, optimistic self lets on.

Karen falls in love easily. The sad part is it's always a one-sided affair. She's gay and definitely has a type, that being the ones who fit the 'lipstick lesbian' vibe, but she doesn't specifically favor those sorts over any other woman. Mixed signals get sent on a near regular basis; her awkward, often blatant flirts are a lot less cute as she approaches thirty than they were when she was newly 21 and coming out for the first time.

While marriage is certainly a desire, Karen is first and foremost looking for someone to, well, enter a serious relationship with. Her last serious relationship was four years ago and the gap isn't due to a lack of trying on Karen's part. Love is a wonderful thing, why should she pretend to be above such a thing? Especially when it can still take her breath away in the right circumstances.

Karen Scaletti refused to just be another victim of the foster care system. After her parents died in a rather unfortunate drunk driving accident, Karen bounced around between various foster homes. She never lived with any one family for long, however, as various acts of...well...god or life - take your pick - kept cropping up. Her first foster family could no longer afford to support a daughter after they both were laid of at their office job. Her second foster family were eventually deemed unfit when Karen discovered some...rather unfortunate and highly illegal images on her foster family computer.

Karen Scaletti seemed to have bad luck when it came to foster homes, and after the fourth failure the orphanage just let her stay until she was old enough to be self sufficient. As such, she had to drop out of high school and work two minimum wage part time jobs in an attempt to be self sufficient. By the time she was eighteen she had saved enough to rent a cheap, crappy apartment which she still lives in to this day. Her part time work came and went thanks to her use of a temp agency. That same agency hooked her up with a janitorial gig at the local radio station and, after one of the hosts took an interest in 'the four cleaning the floors' she found she had a certain knack for radio. Or at least the station producers did.

With a more stable job came the Karen that Verona residents know today. The selfless volunteer and eternal spot of optimism in the community. Her bouts of depression settled in around six years ago, stemming from a host of issues and concerns from her time in foster care. One doctor suggested getting a pet. She got two, cats named Raggedy Anne and Haggardly Randi, who are pretty much her closest friends to this day. She's not unhappy anymore, but she still wears the optimism mask in public. But she's getting better.

Once she knows the extent of her sudden...gift, she intends on starting a support group. A place for people like her to connect and make friends free of judgment. What better way to unite a community? Always the altruist. Even with powers.

Mundane Detection

Aberration

It's pretty fitting that Karen's power is more about other people than herself. She can't talk to animals, see the future, control fire or even summon a rainbow. What she CAN do is tell when someone is, well, 'gifted'. Initially she can only tell when someone has the gift, even if they are trying to deny it, but in time and with honing she'll be able to tell more specific details about a Mundane. She is already starting plans for the Mundane's in the community.

Her power is based on two of the five senses: sight or touch. Typically she has to see a Mundane to know they are one or touch them physically with her hands. Someone who could go invisible would not be able to be detected by Karen. When detecting a Mundane she cannot tell what their 'gift' is until they choose to reveal it to her; she knows only that they CAN do something, not WHAT it is. Trying too hard to read or detect someone will consistently give Karen the mother of all headaches and exhaust her physically. It takes a lot to read a person with just your eyes and brain.

Ffiona Mae Lewis

Fi // FiFi // Freckles // Foxy _{(Her name means foxglove, and it fits her personality.)}

25

Female

Fi is primarily a park ranger and adventure guide at the one and only Allison County State Park. It isn’t the highest paying job in the world, but it is incredibly fulfilling for her. Ffiona also works two nights a week as an adjunct professor at Verona Community College, teaching a class on local ecology. Together these two jobs ensure that she can both make rent and fund her extensive list of recreational hobbies and travel destinations.

Ffiona’s most eye-grabbing physical attributes is her complexion. A healthy speckling of freckles coat nearly every inch of her skin, being most dense in the areas that see constant sunlight - a reflexion of her outdoorsy lifestyle. If you squint your eyes or don’t stare for too long, it might seem like Foxy is sporting a tan, but truly she is just your average pasty ginger hidden beneath all those spots. Ffiona’s body is kept thin through constant physical activity and an incredibly healthy diet, which is not intentionally done to be thin, it’s just her lifestyle. The clothes she wears are often quite colorful and always comfortable - ranging from summer dresses and strappy sandals, to blue jeans and flannel shirts - the latter being a particular favorite. In the winter, she bundles up like a proper snow bunny. In the summer heat, however, Ffiona is no stranger to showing some skin (all those freckles had to come from something). She has even been known to sport naught but a bikini top and shorts, regardless of if she is at the beach, on the hottest of days. As for makeup, Fi keeps it simple with mascara, light eyeliner, and peach or pale pink lip gloss, and hardly ever anything more than that.

Ffiona can best be described as… a bit much. Exuberant is the more positive way to spin it, that’s what Ffiona’s parents would lovingly call her. Everything that she does is always done with passion, fire, zest, pizazz, and spunk. Give her a little and she’ll take it and give you back extra. Charismatic and sociable, Ffiona has been known to talk one’s ear off, even if they are barely more than strangers. Her conversations are always lively and interesting, at least she likes to keep them as such, by figuring out what other people care about and like to do. People are wonderful, Fi genuinely believes that, and loves talking to them and getting to know as many people as she can. As such, her career choices come as no surprise.

Growing up, FiFi was frequently disciplined by her teachers for her inability to sit still and calm down and, to this day, such mundane tasks are still a struggle. Ffiona found a way to channel her endless supply of energy and competitive nature into sports and thrill seeking. She started with cross country, field hockey, and cheerleading in her younger years. Now running, hiking, swimming, exploring, rock climbing, cliff jumping, sky diving and any other extreme flavor of the week are always penciled into this adrenaline junkie’s agenda. She lives by the ‘if you’re not living, you’re dead’ motto and, if you ask some of her friends, they’ll flat out tell you that the way she lives might actually lead to her death someday. Even if that is the case, no one will be able to say that Ffiona Lewis didn’t live her life to the fullest.

Fi has a smile that lights up a room, shining like a beacon even in the darkest of times. Her bubbly laughter is infectious and frequent. Of course, life isn’t always peachy, and Ffiona can be a shoulder to lean on in times of need. She is there for her friends, forever and always, and she makes sure that they know that. Some might be likely to call her clingy, but Ffiona doesn’t believe it is ever possible to love too much. Love is important to her, be it that of her family, friends, or life in general. When she loves and believes in someone or something, she will make it known to anyone and everyone. Her eagerness to fight for what she believes in has brought her far in life and will bring her farther still, despite those who might view such an assertive and self-confident woman in a negative light.

Single, but very active in the dating scene - interested in any and all genders. Those who seek to win Ffiona’s heart must also be willing to match and accentuate her lively free spirit. Foxy seeks a partner who isn’t afraid to do something crazy with her - go on spontaneous travels, climb mountains, jump out of planes, scuba dive, the world is full of endless possibilities and thrills! Simply put, no fuddy duddies or boring folks need apply. If you can’t keep up with her, you aren’t bound to last that long.

Ffiona was born the eldest daughter to Eleanor and Gareth Lewis, followed shortly after by Trevor five years later, and Gwyneth four years after that. The Lewis’ are originally a Welsh American family that immigrated first to New England decades ago, and then migrated to the west coast not long after. Gareth Lewis was born and raised in Washington state and met the love of his life, Eleanor, in college there. When they finished their schooling, they promptly married and settled in to Verona to start a life and begin raising a family. Eleanor took a job as an elementary school teacher and Gareth worked initially as a history teacher, and is now the principal of Lincoln Memorial High. The couple hadn’t been settled in much longer than a year before they fell pregnant with Ffiona.

The Lewis’ raised their three children well and lovingly. They were taught the values of open-mindedness, the pursuit of knowledge, and self-expression. Being that both Eleanor and Gary are educators, it comes as no surprise the Ffiona followed a similar path. Ffiona’s love of nature came first and foremost, as she spent most of her youth outdoors from the time that she could walk. Television, video games, and the internet didn’t hold much appeal to the youngster, the outside world was infinitely more interesting and entertaining. A bit of a tom boy, Ffiona spent her childhood years catching bugs and skinning her knees, climbing rocks and getting into places she probably shouldn’t have been. Her adolescence was spent much in the same way, with the additions of a newfound love of girly things, like dresses and makeup… and boys, of course. Even still, when she eventually gave her innocence to her teenage boyfriend, it wasn’t sneakily done in her parents house or the back seat of the car, no - they were on a wool blanket out by the lake under a curtain of stars and pale moonlight, basking in the glory of nature and young love.

Ffiona went to college out of state to study what she loved: the environment, and people. It was here that Fi truly found herself, cliche as that might sound. She joined as many clubs as she could fit into her schedule between her paid tutoring job and studying. She went on her first few road trips and wild vacations during the spring and summer breaks using the money she saved from tutoring. These trips are where she discovered her need to hunt for the next biggest and best adrenaline rush. She dated her first girlfriend in college, and then a second, with a few guys peppered in between. A few messy break ups and many close friendships later, Ffiona found herself graduating with a dual bachelor's degree in Environmental Studies and Recreation.

Home is where the heart is, at least that is what Ffiona knows to be true. So, after her four year education, Fi moved back home to be with her family. She lived with her parents and her younger siblings for a while before she got her first job at the local florist and was able to afford her own place. Working at the Watering Can was nice, but it didn’t fulfill Ffiona’s sense of adventure and need to intellectually interact with people. In time, through hard work, persistence, building up her resume, and even more persistence, Ffiona landed a job as a park ranger - which really was a dream come true. She worked this job alone for about a year before she decided that she needed more income and picked up an adjunct position at the local community college to fund her hobbies and need to travel. Yes, this is a need for her, life is too short to stay in one place for too long.

Ffiona’s adult life was beginning, and everything was going just swimmingly until about a week ago. Fi fell ill in a hard way - fevers, shakes, dizziness, the works. She had to call off work and stay in bed - something that she absolutely hates doing, let alone for three whole days! Once the initial stages of the flu, or whatever this was, passed, she thought it would get better... but it didn’t. The headaches are insane, everything is too loud and much too bright. Most smells make her violently ill, even if they aren’t particularly offensive to her mother’s nose (whom is taking care of her currently). Everything tastes awful, and she can hardly keep anything but the blandest of broths down. Ffiona cycles through turbulent hot and cold flashes, and everything that touches her skin feels uncomfortably scratchy and claustrophobic.

This is hell, literal hell. All she wants to do is go outside, but if the light of a candle is too strong for her sensitive eyes, lord only knows what the sun would be like...

Superhuman Senses

Olympian

Currently all five senses are functioning at a much higher level than the average human. There are colors visible to her now that she never even knew existed, falling far off the visible light spectrum that everyone is taught about in school. The same can be said for sounds, she can hear frequencies that humans cannot - the kind that make dogs whine, those that sea creatures use to communicate, and then some. With practice, she will be able to see perfectly during the day as well as the night. In the dark, things will be completely visible as if through some form of thermal vision. Currently she can hear things being spoken up to two rooms away, eventually this distance will increase even further.

Her main weakness is the obvious one: hypersensitivity. There is far too much to see, hear, smell, taste, and feel in this world, now more so than ever. The constant input of stimuli is overwhelming and can leave Ffiona in a confused, shaken state. In time she will gain a better understanding of her powers and control over what she lets in, but even then, she will always be frazzled by extremely high or low frequencies and bright flashes of light. The most intense sensory inputs could be used to stun or incapacitate her.

Theodore Liam Foster

Twenty-six

Male

Owner of One Thousand Pages

Teddy, the absolute fuckhead, had no prior knowledge of how to dress outside of, "this tank top shows off my muscles the best," while attending college. Back then, he had no need to care about his appearance. Things, items, affects were handed to him on a daily basis; he had friends who could pick out his wardrobe. However, with those days long passed, Teddy can be summed up as the oldest looking young man in this history of ever. It's a mix between future wine-club tasting and hitting the golf course the moment retirement begins. Just staunchly over fifty, but so looking forward to retirement.

That's a lot of words for 'Grandpa', but it's just a specific style of grandpa that Teddy kind of nails. He can rock a sweater vest, a pair of loafers, some thick-rimmed glasses (his eyesight is atrocious), and some crisp khakis when he wants to.

Outside of his wardrobe, Teddy still has the young man part down - he's fit, with as much trouble as he has maintaining a decent body mass, looks presentable, and only has a moderate amount of scruff lining his jaw. The only out of ordinary part being the gnarled, right arm usually hidden under a long sleeve. The muscles, the bone, all of it still works, but to a varying degree and causes him constant, if a bit dull, pain. And poor Teddy was not left handed after his accident. Regardless, he does his best with what he has and it since hasn't caused him much trouble, in the psychological department, anymore. He lives with it.

Teddy speaks in a heavy baritone, that's more lethargic than rumbling. He's got an accent native to Washington, though he and many others can't really tell.

Tragedy has a great track record for mellowing out turbulent personalities - Teddy is no exception. For a long time, from elementary school to high school, Teddy's been loud, obnoxious, and above all else cocky. He's done what he wants to for years without anyone telling him no. His one parent, his father, was far too busy working double shifts as a nurse to bother with his only son. Thus, Teddy learned various ways of getting attention and affection, all of which inevitably led him down a road that garnered more enemies than it did friends.

College only exacerbated his attitude. With fame on the horizon, getting everything he wanted couldn't have been easier. People deferred to his judgement, followed his lead, and when he asked, he got. Teddy was a grade A asshole, misogynist, and one of the best frat boy douchebags on his campus. He could fuck up monumentally and no one would have given a shit.

In a karmic turn of events, he lost everything. He lost his scholarship, lost his 'friends', and lost every meaning to live. Star pitcher without an arm to throw or to bat with was utterly worthless and people told him that. They tolerated his attitude for as long as they could and when he had nothing left to give them, they all left. So, Teddy had no choice but to mellow out, to humble himself. Packing a bag for Verona, he took on a trivial job, lived out of his car for a few weeks, and ate the worst kinds of food imaginable.

To some degree, it worked. Teddy understood what it meant to be grateful. He learned how to help people and in return ask for help. None of it came easily, no, but Teddy soon learned how to draw from kindness rather than entitled cockiness. An attitude helped no one and Teddy knew that. Of course, there's a degree of stubbornness left in him and he'll throw a hissy fit if he doesn't get his way; he's quick to anger and has self-confidence issues directly linked to his arm; he hates pity and mistakes sympathy for condescension; and he's unbelievable loud still. But, Teddy cares about people a lot more and finds himself more comfortable with a book and a glass of wine with no one to disturb him. He likes listening to other people talk and tends to assist whenever he can. Oh, and he understands fully just how much women can utterly kick his ass in anything he tries his hand at.

This one's been complicated for, probably, the entirety of Teddy's life. Suffice to say? He doesn't know. He's still figuring things out and most of his time's spent dealing with the shop rather than dealing with people. Of course, there's an inkling somewhere in his mind of an ideal partner, it's just buried in a pile of denial and years of hard-wiring his past social environment did to him. But, lately, he's been more accepting of allowing himself to maybe stare at a few guys that come by. And, perhaps, he's allowing himself to sit down and ruminate a bit on his past ventures with ladies and come to the conclusion that, no... it's not that he had 'no game', Teddy was both a misogynistic asshole then and he just wasn't into the lady bits. The lady parts. The ladies. He's not into females.

But, jeeze, maybe he'd like to sit down and just find someone to snuggle with once in awhile. To validate him. Maybe to dote on him a bit. Who knows. He gets flustered just thinking about it.

Everything's pretty much been said and done. Mostly, Teddy doesn't like looking back at his past self. That guy was just all around atrocious. From high school to college all Teddy did was ride on his talent and popularity. Looking back at it, it's obvious Teddy never would have made it past college baseball, especially not with the attitude he had. That kid was lazy, didn't train, was a snob, and volatile; treated his friends and teammates like dirt.

Teddy doesn't like his past and it's sad to say that everyone who staid in Verona kinda knows who Teddy is. And definitely knows what kind of person he was. Maybe even a lot of them look at him and think he deserved what happened to him. Teddy wouldn't argue, he'd agree. Maybe he'd even go so far as to say that things happen for a reason.

For the longest time, Teddy wanted nothing more than to be a star athlete. First, he wanted to go into the Olympics, then basketball, then football, then Wimbledon, until he finally settled on baseball. For a kid, he was amazing and that talent only shined through the further along he went. No one, not even the people who hated them, and they were numerous, could say that Teddy didn't win the Washington State Championships for Lincoln High. He did. He sure as damn well did. He recalls the moment when he's being nostalgic (for baseball) as one of those luck of the draw kind of things. Went right down to the wire, all the bases loaded, and he sinks a curve ball right past the bast and smoking hot into the catcher's glove.

That sent him far and into college where he also excelled. And, by far, Teddy wasn't an intelligent guy, more like average. More like C average, and for college that's more than okay. Even after his accident, he still didn't flunk out. If anything, schoolwork took his mind off of the shit storm going on around him.

As for the accident, itself, all of could honestly have been Teddy's fault. Of course, now he'd take the blame, but then he only took half. Both he and his friend, the shortstop on his team, had gotten absolutely wasted after training. It being winter that time, they only had to train a few times a week, in between their own workouts. Both he and Teddy thought it'd be fine if they just drove the small stretch from the bar back to their dorms. They'd only had like, what, ten or so shots? They'd be fine.

On the final stretch home, the truck they were in hit a rough patch of ice and being the idiots they were, they were going full pedal to the medal at 3 AM in the morning. The truck slid out and practically bent itself on a stoplight. Luckily, someone had witnessed the crash and called the police. His friend suffered a minor concussion and a fractured elbow, nothing seriously. Teddy, however, suffered far worse. When the car crashed and the glass broke, just before the door hit the post, his whole arm shoved its way in between and was nearly irreversibly smashed.

Every bone, from his fingers to his shoulder, was absolutely shattered. A doctor and a nurse reminded him that, if he hadn't worn his seat belt and if his arm hadn't done what it had, it likely would have been most of his head shattered, instead. Something like that. He doesn't understand how or if it was even possible. If the seat belt had saved his life entirely, or what. Teddy reckons it was just luck that his head didn't decide to smash itself into the light post with how forceful they'd hit it.

Of course, with that, Teddy lost pretty much everything. He lost his spot on the team, lost his scholarship for being unable to play, nearly flunked out of his classes, and just about lost his will to live. Being alive and relatively well, however, he's monumentally glad he hadn't lost his entire will to go on. Though, there are days where he wonders if the people around him would have even cared. Or the people he'd befriended in college. He almost feels like they wouldn't, what with how he acted.

After graduating with a degree in business that he had absolutely no idea what to do with, Teddy decided to haul back to Verona. With the accident happening just before his last semester, Teddy only amounted a meager amount of loans that doesn't, at all, resemble the mountain of debt most students wade through. Lucky on that part. However, that also meant he had absolutely no money to pay for anything and no job to earn money to pay for anything.

Most of Teddy's days were spent sleeping in his car before someone decided to hire him. An older man, Mr. Henderson, who owned the bookshop down main street. He offered him a place to stay while Teddy got back on his feet, as well as a job that paid only minimum wage - and the old man had the most distraught look, though Teddy reassured him it was enough and better than working at a McDonald's.

For about a year, Teddy kept the older man company. They talked for hours over the books that they'd read together or separately. He taught him how to steep tea and that tea alone should be good enough for him - he'd scold him for adding honey or sugar. And when Mr. Henderson's health visibly deteriorated, Teddy took up longer hours at the shop, despite Henderson lacking the money to pay him for overtime, and did his best to attend to the old man's needs. No one understands the meaning of humble until they've taken the time and care to wash someone obviously stricken by dementia head to toe. Or, well, maybe that's not the exact way to humble oneself, but it's a damn quick one.

Eventually, Mr. Henderson passed away one summer morning, and Teddy was, once again, lost as to what to do. Henderson's life insurance paid for just about all of his funeral arrangements, the rest coming from Teddy's pocket. He spoke a eulogy, despite only knowing him for about a year and a half, and let those individuals that did attend grieve in peace. Every single one individual was a Verona resident, which was odd, seeing as he must of had some kind of family.

It hit once he'd been called to hear out a reading of Mr. Henderson's will. The man donated just about everything he had to charity, all but the shop and the home above it. Those he gave to the only individual still alive that he considered his child: Theodore Foster.

With a shop he was now entitled to and a home he could live in, Teddy... had no idea what to do. So, he did the only thing he knew best: he cleaned and he decorated the hell out of the place. Every hour of work meant he'd be too busy to think about anything, until he could just fall face first into a bad and let his body drift into the void.

The next years were turbulent, a few of the kids around town staid around to help manage the place a bit better. A few left, the hooligans, mostly, but the ones that staid he gladly treated the best he could. Until, of course, the recent storm and illness that hit Verona. Knocked him out good for a few days, of which the shop wasn't earning any money, which meant he wasn't earning any money. Of course, with the big storm that ran through, much of what he'd be doing for the next week or so was cleaning up and helping any way he could. There's just something odd that he can't put his finger on; he feels different, almost. Not sick, but, just a gut feeling that something's not right.

Bubble Forcefield

Aberration

It's a bubble, short and sweet, that acts as a protective barrier against anything outside of it (or potentially as a prison to entrap someone).

☀ Prolonged use of this can put a monumental strain on Teddy - he becomes disoriented, suffers a severe headache, and produces concussion like symptoms.
☀ At the moment, the bubble relies purely on Teddy to keep up, which makes him incredibly vulnerable if he isn't using it on himself.
☀ Once the bubble breaks, Teddy usually won't be able to put up another until he recovers fully. This usually brings the onset of the Stigma's symptoms immediately, as the bubble stems from Teddy's own stamina and energy.

Bill Franklin Williams Jr.

54

Male

Handyman

Bill is a big guy, not particularly tall at 5’9” (though he insists he is 5’10”, and when he’s drunk he’ll claim to be 6’), but very stocky. He still lifts weights, but his eating habits and disregard for other forms of exercise (according to him, cardio is for soccer moms and Europeans) leaves him with a lot of fat to carry around. His hands are calloused from his job, and in the warmer months he usually has a farmer’s tan from working outside. He doesn’t care about keeping up a clean appearance, and his usual attire is worn out jeans and old classic rock t-shirts, and heavy boots. When going to or from a job he can be seen with equipment like his toolbelt or kneepads. He sometimes limps when he walks from old injuries.

Bill is an uncomplicated man who lives his life loudly. He’s not one for subtlety, and doesn’t hesitate to say what’s on his mind. He’s outgoing and believes people are basically good, but has trouble understanding complex issues and is bad at reading emotions. He doesn’t think ahead much, his core values are being an honest man and being tough enough that he can handle his own problems. As such, he’s reluctant to let people know when he’s having trouble. Bill has strong opinions and is prone to complaining about what he sees is wrong with the world (and younger generations in particular), but he doesn’t mean to insult people by doing it, he’s just speaking off the cuff. He is fiercely loyal to his friends and his family, but over the years his ties to them have grown weaker.

Bill usually approaches romance based on physical characteristics. So far this hasn’t resulted in lasting and stable relationships for him. While he’s willing to overlook appearance (and to be honest, he can’t afford to be too picky), most of his relationships falter because he doesn’t think about them deeply. So far, he hasn’t reached the critical step of actually examining his own actions and realizing what he needs to change to make a relationship work. Part of this is due to his anxiety about commitment, but as he grows older his attitude is slowly showing signs of changes.

Bill’s parents were High School sweethearts, and got married shortly after graduating. His family’s roots in Verona go back several generations, and they never really wanted to leave. His father managed to support the family from working at the junkyard, but just barely. Both Bill and his younger brother learned typical masculine hobbies like football and target shooting. Bill in particular loved sports and lettered in several during high school, but his favorites were football and wrestling. Despite Bill’s passion, the school never could achieve much at the statewide playoffs, and since ever since he’s alternated between blaming the coaches, his teammates, or his knees for the lack of success. Few college scouts visited Verona, and Bill was good but he wasn’t amazing, so he ended up heading to a nearby community college.

At college Bill took random assortment of technical courses to free up time to focus on sports. Unfortunately, he still wasn’t good enough to get a scholarship at a Division I school, and he left without a degree. When he came home to Verona he helped out his father at the junkyard and slowly learned how to do general repair and construction work from odd jobs, eventually saving up enough to buy a set of tools and a cargo van to formally start a business. Ever since he’s run his business and generally lived a simple life, occasionally hanging out with his old friends from high school. Recent years have been tougher as his father has passed away and his mother entered a nursing home.

Unknown as of yet, let’s see what the GMs come up with

N/A

N/A

N/A

Cassandra Maria Harris

19

Female

Waitress at Salem's Diner usually works evenings and weekend mornings

Cassandra is usually seen to be wearing clothes such as blouses, t-shirts, shorts and either high heels, boots or simple sneakers. During the colder months she will usually be seen wearing a leather jacket or a winter coat along with long blue jeans. Her hair is almost always done up into a pony tail and rarely will ever wear it any other way the only time you will see her with it down is if she really truly needs to. Cassandra has her ears pierced but no other piercings other than that, she has a scar on her right arm for when she fell and broke it when she was younger however. She has a few freckles here and there along her arms and body but none on her face though.

Cassandra is usually seen as a very shy and timid girl when she is around those that she doesn't know and doesn't like being in crowds a lot of the time and prefers to be by herself whenever she gets the chance to. But whenever she is with someone she is close friends with she is a very loyal friend to them and does her best to try and make them happy. When it comes to bullies she wont really stand up for herself at all and will usually be one to just simply take the insults.

She is usually seen as very relaxed most of the time and is very smart and always does her best in school, if something bothers her she will usually just remain quiet or fidgets around nervously. She tends to play with her hair whenever she is nervous or stressed out, Cassandra whenever she is alone does however like to dance and sing that's where she is usually the most confident with herself.

Cassandra's romantic interests are with women, however she isn't open about it being shy she is afraid of being made fun of or being treated differently by her family. But whenever she is looking for someone Cassandra usually goes for people who treat her kindly and always will return the same feelings if she gets close to anyone. Cass likes honesty from those that she loves and hates it whenever people will lie to her about something or hide anything.

Cassandra was originally born and raised in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania she was born to two loving parents her father was a teacher and her mother was a nurse, they met one another back in college having a few classes together. They eventually got married shortly after graduating college, about three years later Cassandra was born and a year after that her younger brother was born. Growing up Cassandra was always the shy one, while her brother was more social able, when she turned ten a day before New Years Eve her parents were killed in a car accident.

They were eventually put into their aunt and uncle's house and moved to Verona, though it was hard for Cass to be living on the different side of the country she eventually made a few friends. However as she got older Cassandra started having romantic interest in women, but knowing that her aunt and uncle were really religious along with her younger brother she kept it hidden from them. She hasn't told any of her friends about it either afraid of being judged by others and her classmates. Cassandra also started falling in love with music, singing and dancing taking a few dancing lessons and classes along with singing which she is where she is seen as the most confident.

One evening Cassandra was working at Salem's Diner she was serving a cup of coffee to a customer when she tripped and fell she got a sever burn on her left arm, she went towards the bathroom to try and clean it up that's when she looked down feeling lightheaded Cassandra watched as the burn started to heal itself. She was confused at what was happening to her, after she had gone home that night Cassandra wasn't sure if it was real or not and decided to test it again. While her aunt and uncle were asleep she went to grab a knife and went to cut herself again which made her feel really lightheaded and dizzy she watched the wound quickly heal itself.

Regeneration
Can heal broken bones, skin and all that good jazz and limbs like a lizard

Olympian.

Cassandra has the ability to regenerate broken bones, loss limbs and cuts. Though she wouldn't want to cut off her own arm to test it out. So far any wounds that she has gotten so far have been minor such as bruises and cuts and burns.

Whenever Cassandra gets a wound no matter what it is causes her a lot of discomfort from lightheadedness to dizziness and loss of balance. And even after the wound has healed she will get a very massive headache after that. If its a small cut it will just be a few seconds. If its a deeper cut or a burn or a broken bone this makes her discomfort even worse.

James Tobias Carrigan
'Zero'- Alias as a graffiti artist

19

Male

Mechanic
Store Clerk
University Student (Gap Year)

Physically, James isn't very impressive or far from the norm. He stands at around 6ft even, but his build is closer to the ectomorphic (slim) body type. He has no visible scars, apart from a small scar crossing the eyebrow over his left eye from a bike accident a year ago. His face is quite sharp with a strong jawline, but slightly softer nose and ears. His eyes are murky blue-grey colour, with a sharp shape and, while not covered by a hood, are very expressive of his emotions, as if to compensate for his face's lack there of.

Typically, he wears casual shirts with a hoodie and jacket over top, with a pair of jeans and motorcycle boots. He also has a pendant of a gothic cross, a gift from his sisters before he left the country.

His slim frame is dotted with various tattoos of different meanings, including a Grim Reaper on his left fore-arm, a pair of mechanical wings on his right wrist, a 3d dragon perched on his left shoulder blade and two wolves, one black and one white, fighting over his heart. If he's close enough with someone, he'll explain what they mean if they ask.

Polite but quiet and anti-social, James doesn't really present himself much in a casual environment, and he's very much the type to disappear into the background without anyone really noticing. He can present himself if he needs to, when he's working and whatnot, but it doesn't persist after he leaves work. He has few friends, and even fewer close ones, and he's almost always seen alone. This doesn't bother him much, as he feels uncomfortable around large groups or spending prolonged periods of time with others. When asked about it, he often gives vague answers about 'preferring solitude' or 'having other things to worry' about, but the truth is that he is suspected to have a very mild form of Asperger Syndrome which makes it difficult for him to interact with people unless he is completely relaxed.

When he warms up to someone, he is much more relaxed around them. He can speak more openly, and shows more of the emotions that he hides from others. If he finds something funny he'll laugh out loud instead of barely giving a tiny smile, and if he's sad he'll show it in his posture. He's also more open with his opinions and interests, like street art and such, and is more willing to share his goal of becoming a robotics engineer after leaving University. While he admits the money is an attractive part of the job, he finds technical things interesting and likes to do things that he can get involved with.

On the more negative side of himself, he can get very defensive about himself and those close to him and his temper, while a very long one, is very aggressive. If someone pushes him too far, he is liable to snap and react violently before isolating himself. If someone were to confront him in his state, he would, at best, glare at them until they leave or, at worst, straight up punch them. If left alone, or helped by someone close, he usually calms down after an hour or so.

James is heterosexual, but while open to a relationship he isn't actively looking for one. While some people believe he is more interested in a physical relationship, the truth is a string of failed relationships as a teen has damaged his self esteem to a point that he feels mostly unwanted.

Born in Colchester, England, James had a fairly average childhood. Born to married parents Adam and Victoria Carrigan, he is the eldest child of 3 siblings, two younger sisters named Naomi and Sam. An intelligent young man, He finished his GCSEs with A* and A across the board, while also being involved with the local detachment of Air Cadets as well as learning to play the violin to grade 6. He enrolled in a Hi-tech Engineering course at the local technical college after leaving school at 16, completing it 3 years later with high enough grades to be accepted into University. He has an A2 Motorcycle licence since turning 19.

Instead of going straight to University, he decided to take a gap year and travel to America for a year. After a few weeks travelling, he settled into Verona, with the intention of staying until the start of the next educational year. He took up a few odd jobs to make ends meet, such as a mechanic, store clerk and bartender at some of the less reputable bars. While travelling, he also started as a graffiti artist under the handle 'Zero', so he's a regular at the Gallery in his free time, when he's not shutting himself in his apartment or riding around on his bike, a 125cc Suzuki Marauder.

After mysteriously falling ill from the strange illness that struck the town, he recovered three days later with seemingly no differences. Strangely, some of the residents of the town start to get headaches around him, but he doesn't understand why.

Power Neutralisation

Aberration

His power completely cancels out the powers of other Mundanes. Any attempt to use their powers results in a mild to searing headache, depending on how strongly they try. This is a reflexive ability, but he can activate it at will when he becomes aware of it.

While initially limited to contact, As he becomes more aware of his power he can expand the range of his power to cover larger areas, or focus on specific targets at a distance.

Physically, his body isn't enhanced in any way and his powers cannot negate any effects not directly linked to the usage of a Mundane's power. Physical things, like weapons or hazardous elements, can still injure, maim or even kill him. Projecting his power is also draining to his stamina and extended periods can cause him to blackout and collapse.

Gillian E. Doss.

Twenty years old.

Female.

College student and part-time cashier at the local gas station.

Despite being a millennial (in all the technical senses possible – and probably the political ones too), Gillian E. Doss is not a millennial. Or, at least, she doesn’t look like one. Matter of fact, she looks like something straight out of the 60s.

Gilly, of course, practices good hygiene – she showers, she uses deodorant, she keeps her hair and fingernails healthy and she brushes her teeth – but she certainly does not upkeep her appearance. Her long red hair rests on her back and shoulders, thick and unkempt and tangles galore. She usually brushes it in the morning, but her hair mainly goes untouched throughout the day and is often the slightest bit frizzy. She stands an impressive five feet and nine inches tall, but her clothes often do not fit her right – either too baggy or too small. When it comes to her posture, energy seems to course through her body and she doesn’t walk places, but bounds – and it’s nearly impossible to keep her from standing still, she even bounces on the balls of her feet.

Gilly tends to dress old-fashion and like she stepped out of the sixties. Typically, when dressing, she chooses a single color a day and wears everything of that color – she’s a stickler for color coding. Gilly prefers skirts – cute knee length skirts made of polyester and cotton – rather than jeans and likes to wear cute silky blouses with flowers and whales and other beautiful decorative things. Permanently attached to her feet - metaphorically speaking, literally would be rather disgusting - are her favorite light blue Chuck Taylor converses. Gilly smells like sunshine - it may not make sense, but grab any generic perfume bottle or deodorant with sunshine in the name, and that's what she smells like - with the slightest hint of coconut. Her face is typically makeup-less except for the occasional colored chapstick on especially cold days that chap her lips.

Sugar, spice and everything nice...then pour a shit ton of sugar and nice things into the mixture because Gilly doesn't have enough spice.

It’s true, Gilly doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. She’s the friendly type who is always overly concerned with other people’s feelings. Gilly makes it her priority to make sure everyone and everything are the happiest they can be. She’s empathetic and relates easily to other people’s pain – maybe a little too emotionally on her part. If someone is sad, Gilly would sob even more than them; if someone had gotten an A on their test, Gilly will throw them a full-blown party – okay, maybe not, but she’ll be more excited than that person. Her friendly nature does not only give her a sympathetic ear, but a rather easy-to-fool heart. Gilly is probably one of the most gullible and naïve people you ever meet. She believes in never doubting unless given a reason to doubt – which often ends up with Gilly being fooled by one thing or another. Perhaps this is the reason why she has a hard time picking up on sarcasm and passive aggressive behavior.

Gilly is a quiet person most of the time – but do not mistake her quiet behavior for introversion. Gilly thrives on human interaction and tries to make as many friends as she can. Unfortunately, not a lot of people return this sentiment, especially since Gilly can be seen as rather socially awkward. Gilly suffers from Home School Syndrome – aka, growing up in homeschooled, Gilly never really got the socialization she needed. It also doesn’t help that Gilly is oblivious to all things social – she can’t tell the difference between flirting and being friendly, being nice and being fake.

Gilly is quite known for her academic endeavors. She enjoys learning and has a natural thirst for knowledge. She can be found with her nose in a book, or foraging around in the leaves to study interesting things (more than once she had rashes from poison ivy). As with most studious human beings, Gilly’s like for learning and her insatiable curiosity bleeds into her social life. It can be quite irritating, really, how nosy Gilly can be. She will go to any lengths to satisfy it, especially when it comes to other people’s secrets. It’s not that she does it intentionally or with malicious will, but she simply can’t help but want to know. It can even be said that Gilly has no sense of preservation, considering the dangerous situations she has put herself in for the sake of her curiosity – plus other reasons.

It should be noted that it is nearly impossible to scare Gilly and she rather enjoys horror movies.

Gilly has no experience in romantic endeavors whatsoever. The only exposure to any romance of any kind is that of movies and books - and Brad Pitt never was very attractive to her. As a typical human being with no dating experience at all, Gilly wishes for the typical sweeps-you-off-your-feet romance that, well, sweeps her off her feet! An utterly hopeless romantic, Gilly tends to swoon at romantic acts in the movies - but she would rather have a best friend as a lover.

Gillian E. Doss has spent her whole life in small little Verona – the only out-of-state place Gilly ever set foot in was Portland, Oregon. Her father is from Verona too, and a lover of the simple life. Gilly’s mother, on the other hand, was a woman filled with wanderlust – when she was alive, that is. Gilly doesn’t remember much of her mother, Leona Doss died when Gilly was four years old. Leona was in love with helping the community, and especially liked to donate as much blood as she could in the annual blood drive. The last blood drive Leona went to not only gave her a sense of value, but acquired immune deficiency syndrome – also known as AIDS, something that carries the worst kind of stigma. The way it was explained to Gilly was there was a mix-up with the blood and needle – she was a bit too young to understand.

Having to watch his wife die from infection took its toll on Benjamin Doss and he became a bit of a recluse and overly paranoid of germs and bacteria. Perhaps his biggest fear was of losing Gilly to illness as well, and he kept Gilly far from possible health hazards as he could. One of these ways was, unfortunately for Gilly, home school. Age five to eighteen, Gilly was confined to the study room for six hours of learning. Most of the time, however, Gilly just snuck out while her father wasn’t looking and sneaking into the backyard to play in the dirt and in the trees. As it can be imagined, Gilly’s social skills suffered from such reclusion – even though she wasn’t completely separated from others and would go out once in a while to the town.

After Gilly turned eighteen years old, she was out from under her father’s thumb and began to attend the community college. She still lived with Benjamin Doss and he still fretted over her, but Gilly was a grown college student now! She could go out whenever she wanted, do whatever she wanted. So, naturally, this meant getting a job at a gas station and spending her time in the Salem’s Diner or One Thousand Pages.

When she had fallen ill, it was like her father’s worst nightmare was coming true. For hours he would stay by her side, reading her old fairy tales he read to her when she was a child and feeding her hot chicken soup. Gilly first learned of her new abilities, for lack of a better term, when she awoke to staring at her own body. It was only for a split second, where she was able to stare into her sleeping face and see her snoozing father in her peripheral vision, before she was snapped back like a rubber band. Gilly startled awake in her bed, feeling the slightest headache – probably caused by confusion – and an eerie unsettling in her stomach.

Astral Projection.

Mystic.

Gilly is able to separate her body and her whatever and travel the astral plane. When her body and 'soul', for lack of a better word, are separated, her body falls into something that appears like sleep - or possibly something closer to a coma. For the most part, Gilly is incorporeal - but, as she gets stronger, that may change. Gilly can walk and seems to almost levitate, or float, when in her astral state.

When astral projecting, Gilly's body is completely vulnerable to other people and she cannot protect herself from being hurt, kidnapped, or killed in this state. Furthermore, the longer Gilly is away from her body, the weaker she becomes - if her body is taken during this time and placed somewhere where she didn't leave it, Gilly could potentially die while looking for it.

Lucas Peter Farweight

39

Male

Forest Ranger of the State Park. Lucas run pretty much every shift his supervisor throws at him with ease. Military dicipline does that with you. So you often see him wandering the woods at dusk, midnight or dawn without any complaints.

Standing an impressive 6'0", Lucas is a man that keeps himself in check. He doesn't drink a lot nor smokes that much. Quite the opposite, he runs around the neighborhood every morning at 6am (if he doesn't have an early shift), lifts and does various other physical exercises. So he's still in top physical shape. Something that's hard not to notice. Despite that, he doesn't look particularly wide. He's more lean and flexible.
His face is mostly devoid of scars, which is a good thing. His body, however, is a different story. Should you ever see him take off his shirt you will definitely be drawn towards the scars. He got a few of them. Some are obvious cuts or wounds from fistfights. However, there are about 3 smaller, round ones that could only be from bullets. He also has a tattoo on his right arm saying: Semper fi.

Lucas luckily adapted a bit to civilian lifestyle. He doesn't tuck his shirt in or anything. Still, he wears the classic tight shirts of a marine, over which he drapes a leather jacket. His wardrobe mostly consists of durable, comfortable stuff that doesn't really confine his movement. Though it can never be called fashionable.

Lucas is man that mostly keeps to himself. Though he isn’t anti- or asocial. Quite the opposite. He’ll strike up a conversation of be your listening ear for as long as you need him. However he’ll rarely talk about himself. At least not in any significant way. When you ask him how he’s doing, he’ll probably answer with something as simple as “good, just made a cake”. It’s all superficial. Still, he’s an honest and hardworking man that simply and quietly goes about his days.

When others need him, he’ll be there. It doesn’t matter if it’s 2 in the afternoon or 3 at night. He’ll drive to you and be there. To him, it doesn’t matter how ugly things got. Or how insignificant the issue may be. He’ll even drive you home after a long night at the bar (though don’t expect him to be your designated driver every weekend). Many would claim that this behavior comes from his days in the Marines. They’re right.

Though there is something odd about him. The way he carries himself and pushes himself. He’s constantly ready to help everyone. Many say he’s working towards his redemption. For what? Well he probably killed some people as a Marine. Probably for that. They probably don’t know how true it really all is.

You're not going to get Lucas on a date with anyone. Not even if you threaten him to do so. He will absolutely refuse to do so. It seems he still keeps loyal to his first wife. As he still carries her ring on a chain around his neck.

Lucas was born into the family of Alina and Paul Farweight. Their early life was filled with joy. Their mother was a PR Manager for Millenium Worldwide European Branch. Their father a wealthy investor with a hedgefund at his beck and call. Both met at one of Millenium's many events. It's fact that he was so struck with her that he commanded his secretary to make every European event happen at that Millenium Hotel. Just to have an excuse to see her. Eventually he asked her out. From one thing came the next and they married. She moved to the United States with him and became a HR and negotiation manager for his hedge fun. Eventually they got their first child. Lana Farweight. A healthy, beautiful girl. Not many years later Lucas entered their lives. Despite the many hours, the parents always made sure that they saw their children often and played with them on the weekends.

Lana shot through school. Being both a social butterfly and an a promising student, her middleschool and highschool days were the best she had. Her scores in academics soared skywards. Lucas, on the other hand, excelled exceptionally in physical sports. He became Highschool Quarterback and carried his team to the State championships. But he wasn't the ordinary, nerd kicking jock some would assume he was. Quite the opposite. He sat with them at lunch, introduced them to his friends, invited them to parties. His test scores were above average of the class. Everything indicated that both children had a promising future ahead.

Lana went to University to get her MBA. A decission both her parents whole supported. A few years later and it was Lucas' turn to choose. Many assumed he would be drafted in some college football program. After that he'd go pro. However, he joined the marines. Which came as quite a shock to both of his parents. Of course his mother begged him not to go. But the boy did. Among the Marines he practically floated through basic training. He showed exceptional leadership skills while simultaneously very capable at following every order given. without questions.

That's when his touring began. After one particular tour he returned home at the young age of 20. He met the most beautiful girl of his life. Their relationship was like a hurrican. It suddenly happened so very fast. After only six months they got married. Six months later and Elizabeth was born. But duty called. Lucas was called upon for another tour. His wife wasn't really angry about it. Just sad that he had to leave.

After several months of staying abroad, he came home to his wife. But one day, she vanished. Almost literally. She went to sleep next to him and the next day she was gone. Lucas would have thought she literally just vanished rather than that she ran away. But after 2 days he received a phone call. She couldn't do it anymore. Their daughter was 3 now. Lucas was forced to let her stay at Lana. Who took good care of his child while he ran several more tours. As Elizabeth could stay at Lana, Lucas could sell the house, making quite a few bucks doing so. Further, as he didn’t have to take care of anyone directly (Lana wouldn’t forgive him if he even gave 1% of what he earned) the money was saved up in the bank. Eventually, he came home when his daughter was 8 and he never went back. With an honorable discharge he decided to move to Verona. To find quiet and peace. When she turned 9 they officially moved there. He took up the job as park ranger and he became a very driven (on the background) part of the community.

Eight years later and the sickness hit both him and his daughter. Though the man refused to just leave her to her fate. He packed himself tight and walked to the pharmacy and shop quite often. He still cooked for her, making sure she still ate healthy food. After the three days both their sickness passed and life went on as normal. Yet something felt odd. It was during one of his usual early morning runs when it happened. He went through the woods, the final part of his run. Like always it got pretty tough on him. His mind constantly pushing to reach the next tree. At a certain moment he mentally just wished he was in the shadow of a large oak tree in the distance. Right then he stepped into the shade of another, smaller tree.

What happened next, he could describe. It felt as if his innards were torn apart. One moment he was where he was running, the next he was in the shadow of the oak. Retching up.

Shadowstep

MYSTIC

Lucas can turn himself into a ‘cloud’ of black, smokey, constantly moving substance that’s suspended in the air. In this state he’s more like a cloud than solid and can ‘fly’ through the air. This means that he can move through, over or pass obstacles someone with a normal body couldn’t hope to pass.

Aside from the Stigma, the shadowstep ability takes a tremendous toll on the body. Physically that is. It takes some time to get used to. Early in when he uses the ability there is a fair chance that, after he lands, he’ll puke. Also, he cannot stay in this shadowy shape for too long (as the longer he remains in it, the worse the effects on his body come). Other effects are dizziness, muscles aching or a loss of blood (blood cells inside of his veins dying). The dizziness, puking and muscle aching one can get used to (though aching muscles is a sign that you strained them, so doing it too often still isn’t a good idea).

Mykola Velias. (Myk for short.)

29.

Male.

Gambler, if one could call it a real career. Strange how he always seems to have just the right luck. But, then again- no one can prove anything.

In simple terms, Mykola is conventionally attractive, and he is well aware of it. Often, he uses it to his advantage to smooth his way out of sticky situations- but that's for later. Of mixed heritage, his skin holds a slightly bronzed tint, and he tans rather than burns when he's out in the sun for long periods of time. His hair, which is of medium length but usually styled back (as current style dictates), is a dark brown. And boy, is there a lot of hair. If there's one word that could completely encapsulate Mykola, it is scruffy. While he stays well-kept, his hair is thick and full, and he always seems to have (trimmed, don't you worry) stubble or a light beard. His eyes are, similar his hair, a dark brown- although not dark enough to be indistinguishable from the pupil.

Bodily, he's rather average. His bad habits balance out the occasional trips to the gym, so while he has no problem lifting things or being active, he's not exceptionally muscular or perfectly toned by any means.

Style wise, Mykola is a fan of keeping up appearances. Though he's scruffy, his hair is almost always groomed and managed if he's heading out, and he has quite the taste for expensive clothes and accessories. He'll be dressed business casual just to pick up milk from the supermarket. It's hard to catch him in anything less than a dress shirt and slacks, exceptions being extreme weather or, of course, the occasional overnight guest.

Externally, Mykola is a standard city guy. Style, attitude, career- it all screams bright lights and fun, and that's the image he enjoys projecting, seeing as it's what he loves. Borderline hedonistic, Myk is mostly concerned about enjoying himself- and for him, that requires money. Lots of it. He's absolutely the type to go on a spending spree, and then eat reheated takeout for two weeks because he forgot to save money for groceries.

Even before he became affected by the powers in Verona, his ability to analyze people's expressions, tells, and body language cultivated a bit of a know-it-all attitude. When his powers did appear, the capability to suddenly tap into people's thoughts did little to diminish this spark- if anything, it's made it worse. And of course, no bar-hopping, card flipping gambler would be complete without a dash of sarcasm- although Mykola's personal brand tends to be more playful than it is truly cynical. He cracks jokes, and lets loose snide comments, but its clear he's always having fun. Of course, that doesn't necessarily stop him from pissing people off occasionally. More than occasionally. A lot, actually. Oops.

Interally, however, Mykola is quite different. For all his snark, he himself is rather sensitive- though, of course, his perfected poker face can conceal that easily. Most of the time. The thing he seeks most is affection, though he often mistakenly tries to replace it with attention of any kind. This affection doesn't necessarily have to be of romantic nature, though; he'd be quite content to have a friend or two that he can completely trust and rely on, something hard to find in his line of work.

Those who get close to him will discover he is still rather childish and impulsive, despite the airs of experience and success. He isn't stupid, though, or gullible- just prone to laziness and self indulgement. He loves people, and has a personality that can draw them in if he so pleases. He's also a fan of children- though, funnily enough, he seems totally incapable of lying to them. It's comedic to watch someone trained in deceit stumble over talking to a six year old, as he's been told, but it's something he can't help. Overall, he simply thrives on interaction. Talking to, messing with, and just being around others tends to be enough to distract him from his thoughts- until he gets back home, that is.

For lack of better phrasing, Myk isn't all that picky. He considers himself bisexual for convenience of label- but really, his interests are generally undefined. If he were asked about his "type," he'd likely reply entertaining and easy on the eyes. Yet, despite the vague general parameters of his interests, he's a man guided first and foremost by gut instinct, and sometimes he can be wary and selective based on initial interactions. After all, reading people and figuring them out is practically his job- so if he senses something off, he'll stay away.

Though he's quick to jump around from person to person, it isn't from a lack of ability to commit. In fact, Myk was engaged at one point! Hard to believe, but true. His real fear isn't settling down- that's actually what he wants most- but rather falling for someone who won't or can't reciprocate. His big downfall is quite literally a fall: he forms attachments rapidly due to his loneliness, and is a romanticist and a "fool for love," if you will. After countless letdowns, he's now come to the game-winning conclusion that the best remedy is to, simply put, book it.

Before Verona, Myk's life was a whirlwind of city chaos, club lights, and cards.

But before that, it was....well, boring. The standard suburban life; small town, public school, average house, detached middle class parents, and endless stagnation. His life was so routine it was almost a bulleted to-do list, and no matter what he tried to do, he always yearned to leave. Most of his teen years were spent idolizing celebrities and dreaming of what he could do, once he got out. Of course, the logical step was to go to school in the nearest city- move there, experience it, make a name for himself. College life was certainly less boring than what he'd had back home, but he still wasn't quite there- and he was running out of money. Ten job interviews later, he was a novice bartender in a sports pub, watching the games and the betting pools. Not only did he learn more about sports than he'd ever wanted to, but he learned all sorts of new skills. Poker, speculation, betting, spotting tells- and most importantly, how maleable and impressionable betting patrons could be after their fourth or fifth drink. After some years of risks and some pretty bad failures, the money started sticking. Soon he was out of school, living on his own and living well, with a girl to boot.

All this considered, it would seem counterproductive to suddenly up and move to somewhere as secluded and small as Verona- at least to an outside eye. If asked, he'll come up with something along the lines of simply having run out of people to beat, but it may have more to do with his broken engagement- or the fact that, even though he had everything he'd grappled and clawed for as a youth, something was still.....off. Missing. Empty.

Verona was meant to be a testing ground; an experiment of sorts. Had he just gotten bored of the city? Would a reminder of just how dragging his life used to be rejuvinate his spirits? The plan had been to stay for a week, maybe a month, just as a kick in his own ass to get the motor running again. But then, he got sick. And now things are different, and, well- it would be a little overwhelming to go back to a city with hundreds of thousands of people when he can suddenly hear every thought a person dreams up.

Telepathy.

Mastermind.

In short, Mykola is a telepath who specializes in reading the minds of those around him.

Currently, Mykola is simply able to read surface thoughts and detect lies in your standard, run of the mill human. He hears the thoughts within his own mind, as if the person were communicating verbally rather than mentally. The more a person focuses or fixates on a certain thought, the "louder" and more obvious it is- allowing certain ideas to be read more easily than others. To draw a simple example, someone used to lying may not focus on it as much, and thus be harder to read. Someone who is compulsively honest and struggles with deceit is likely to be hyperfocused on what they are concealing, making it glaringly obvious to Myk that something is amiss.

As he becomes familiarized with his power, Mykola will gain the ability to probe deeper than surface thoughts if he so chooses. At its highest extent, this probing could reach into active memories (things that have not been forgotten or repressed by the target). In addition, the mental connection will become a two way street; not only can Mykola read the thoughts of others, but he will be able to project his own thoughts to them as well, allowing for basic telepathic communication. The number of people he can do this with at a given time will likely rise as he exercises his power more frequently. Think walkie talkies- but, you know. In the mind.