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[i][h3] Character sheet [/h3][/i]
 
[i]The voice in my head has some questions about you. No, I am not crazy.[/i]

[color=lime]Can't really call you crazy when my voice has questions too.[/color]
 
[i]What is your real name?[/i]

[color=lime]Freya Mathews. My parents had a fondness for norse mythology.[/color]
 
[i]Make sure no one learns it. So, have you thought of a good alias for yourself?[/i]
 
[color=lime]Puppeteer. Pup if you prefer.[/color] [i]She glances away, talking to someone else.[/i] [color=lime]I'm not going to tell them tha-no, it's stupid, ugh, fine.[/color] [i]She returns her attention.[/i] [color=lime]The voice, P, wishes to inform you of it's nickname for me. 'The Creator.'[/color]

[i]How old are you, anyway? [/i]

[color=lime]25.[/color]
 
[i]How would you describe your own appearance? Height, hair, clothes, whatever.[/I]

[color=lime]I'm terrible at this. I'm about five foot seven inches with a little longer than shoulder lenght brown hair that has a streak of white in the front. Natural, I promise. I have murky green eyes and I typically dress in clothing that is half formal half work. Brown construction boots with dark blue jeans. A green long sleeve button up shirt, a brown leather vest over that, and brown leather gloves. Here's a picture for a better idea.[/color]

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[i]Recently all of us are afflicted with these impossibly unreal abilities. Like Mystics. What is your ability?[/i]

[color=lime]I'm good at making and fixing things. [i]Really[/i] good. If I have the proper tools I can create or fix basically anything I need or want to with a speed that would boggle the minds of most people. Depending on how much I go 'in the zone' I could make something that should take years in a day. Though god am I tired after that. Sometimes I don't even need the tools, just the materials. Though that left me in a coma for a week, so I try to take it slow.

I can exert my will over machines and tools. Make pieces of a car engine stop working, draw a hammer to my hand, jam a gun, mostly little stuff like that. Though I have to be under two feet away or touching them for it to work.

I can also kinda, uh, give life to things. I'm not sure how far it goes, P assures me that it's only permanent things I've created myself, but that's how this little guy got here.[/color] [i]She whistles, and a bronze mechanical dragon flies to her shoulder[/i] [color=lime]I call him Fafnir. Yes I can understand him. He's about as big as I can go for permanent, at least so far, life. Made me pass out and wake up in a hospital bed three days later.

 Which, now that I think of it, was the beginning of the end. On the temporary side of things I can have a hammer or another tool do something by itself for a couple minutes, or have a bunch of tiny things like chess pieces move of their own volition. It seems that their 'purpose' is whatever I deem it to be upon the 'blessing of life that I bestow'. P is very dramatic.

Fire and heat don't bother me. At all. I could stick my hand in a fire and be totally fine. I actually really enjoy blisteringly hot days of 100 degrees without breaking a sweat. I actually hate this place, since it's so cold. I think it has to do with the fact that my 'powers' are older than P likes to admit. From a time when all creating was done with fire, iron, and the strength of arm.[/color]

[i]She hesitates[/i]

[color=lime]There's one more thing. Whenever I'm making things I get these...feelings I guess. They're like sensations of elements, or other supernatural traits like invincibility, breathing underwater, or never going dull, on the edge of consciousness. I [i]think[/i] I could grab them and put them into whatever I'm making. Whenever I tried though, I passed out (I do that a lot when messing around with my powers don't I?) for a few hours and woke up with a killer headache. P insists that as long as I grow in power I could eventually do it.[/color]
 
[i]What is your voice like? Has he told you anything aside to search for Elvarren?[/i]

[color=lime]P? It's current choice of voice is that of a woman right now. I think it just likes that sound for itself, since it tried male and small child of both genders in an attempt to cajole me. P rarely makes me do things, since I mostly prefer to stand frozen in place, locked in an internal struggle, rather than listen to what it tells me to do. It generally approves when I'm making things though.[/color]
 
[i]Where did you come from, and how long have you been looking for Elvarren?[/i]

[color=lime]Rural Missouri. There were always things that needed to be made or fixed, so I was a blessing around the household. My parents told me to take it easy on hot summer days after I went into a coma for a week. The doctors and nurses, all looking noticeably more exhausted after I woke up, had said that was the problem. P convinced me that it was better to go along than it was too try to convince them that I had powers and a voice. 

I left after P made me drain my mother dry.

Wandered around for a few years, eventually setting up in an autoshop. We became quite popular for fast, really good, service. I had taken to my current style of clothing, trying to keep as little skin to skin contact with people as possible. I only fed off of wildlife or idiots in clubs, gently drifting by until they were tired and had to leave. It was around that time that I made Fafnir. My coworkers found me and took me to the hospital. I woke up a few minutes before the Greys showed up. P screamed at me to run, and for the first time in a long, long time I complied immediately. 

Raced back home, got dressed, grabbed everything I thought I'd need (yes, that includes this toolbelt) and I've been running ever since.[/color]
 
[i]How did you end up here?[/i]

[color=lime]P said head north. North ended up here.[/color]
 
[i]Anything else you want to get off your chest?[/i]

[color=lime]I'll get this ran down piece of crap liveable, ideally before the Greys show up. I hate half-finished products. Also, don't touch the toolbelt without asking.[/color]
 
[i]It is good to meet you, friend. You’ll be safe here – for the time being…[/i]

[i]Chuckles.[/i] [color=lime]Someone likes being ominous.[/color]

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