[hider=Zimmy "Pinball" Morander]
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[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/3Sgcytr.png[/img] 

[b][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-fv4bQobpc]Elizima (Zimmy) Morander[/url]
21|5'5"|O+[/b][/center][/color]

[Sub][b][color=darkgray] A P P E A R A N C E
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[color=eedabb][indent]Zimmy is lithe, tough, and strong. Without anything else to do while locked away, she spent her time exercising. While she wasn't the most athletic WARDEN before her stint in lockup, now she is is practically the embodiment of physical fitness. She is of average height and average build. On her left shoulder is a tattoo of a hawk, wings open as if flying. 

Her hair is ashy blonde, and flows in wild curls down to her shoulders. If a formal event should come her way, she uses either a scrunchy, she uses either a hair tie or a [i]magic[/i] hair tie to keep her locks where they belong: out of her face.

She has a band of charms on her left wrist, which was given to her when she was nine by her best friend at the time, and simple stud earrings.[/indent][/color] 

[Sub][b][color=darkgray] P E R S O N A L I T Y
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[color=eedabb][indent]Zimmy once described herself as the greatest wit in the world. She was also twelve shots into the night, missing her pants, and juggling flaming bottles of Whiskey.

Normally, Zimmy is a little more put together. She is energetic, but in the way a river is. She likes to make people laughed, but uses dry humor, sardonic statements, and deadpan delivery to get her point across. She does her best to avoid making others the butt of her jokes, but sometimes it just slips out that way. When it does, she apologizes while blushing profusely.

When a friend needs her help, Zimmy has terrific bedside manner. Warm, accommodating, blunt when necessary, but always willing to support someone who needs it, she makes friends easily and is excellent at navigating the social do's and don't's of conversation.

Unfortunately, she doesn't always believe this: Zimmy has a fair bit of anxiety when it comes to others, constantly worry if they just want her for her looks, or if they only tolerate her but [i]really[/i] want her gone, etc. The Barghest Squad has been the best thing to happen to her: a family that is bound by a need for survival. Therapy helps, too, when the Citadel allows it.

Alcohol-infused Elizma is a different beast. She is spoken of only in myth and legend, a freak of nature no man nor beast would dare to cross. Juggling. Archery. Designer Molotov construction. These are only some of the varied and mysterious talents of the drunk goddess. She is mostly harmless, but keep a weather eye out for bad ideas disguised as fun and games. There are three constants in life: death, taxes, and Zimmy Morander's magic liver.[/indent][/color]

[Sub][b][color=darkgray] B A C K G R O U N D
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[color=eedabb][Indent]Zimmy was born to two retired WARDENs. All but guaranteed to have the touch of magic, the only question was: how much? Regardless of the answer, she was effectively railroaded into WARDEN from the minute she lit a candle with her mind. For a short time when she was very young, she told her parents that she was going to be an artist. She had seen a television show about a kindly old woman painting on a canvas, and it had entirely entranced her. Her mother smiled kindly at her and said "of course you are, sweetie".

Instead, she was enrolled in preliminary schooling: having gone through the system already, her parents knew the tips and tricks she would need to know to pass the WARDEN aptitude tests. As soon as she could run, she was going along with her father each morning on a lazy jog. She hated those jogs, but her father talked about so many interesting things: magic, monsters, flying through the skies...so she sucked it up. Besides, after the run, she always got the tastiest ice-cream from the vendor two streets down.

A preschooler had no concept of "training for the Citadel". Zimmy spent most of younger years being told not to eat rocks, digging up worms, and generally ignoring the rigorous plan her parents eventually gave up on.

When she turned ten, she was brought to the Citadel to be tested. Some of her parents words must have rubbed off on her, because she managed to impress the testing body with a wonderful display of sparks, levitation, and...rocks. After getting over their shock, her parents were thrilled. Both second class WARDEN in their day, they harbored a quiet hope that she might one day make First Class.

But it wasn't all pleasant news. Her best friend, Karmina, hadn't passed the WARDEN test. They wouldn't see one another years, leaving Zimmy friendless as her training began. She took a long, long time to warm up to the Citadel. Constantly worried about being ostracized or ignored, she struggled with her classes and schoolwork. Sometimes she cried herself to sleep.

The Introduction to Aeromagics course was the first crack in her reserve. Professor Icasan saw the way Zimmy's eyes flashed when he leapt into the air, and she--for lack of a better term--took the young girl under her wing. Citadel life slowly became less oppressive. Her parents kept in touch, and the people inside were mostly good folk, if a bit rigid and structured. Her infectious smile and funny witticisms won her the affections of her instructors and many of her classmates. And yet...despite the improvement in her mood, she still felt like an outsider looking in: always smiled at, but never invited to social events.

Then, Barghest Squad. Fifteen-year old Zimmy got smacked in the face with a new crew, one that she couldn't get away from even if she wanted to. By the Dawn's Light, she [i]never[/i] wanted to get away from them. She finally felt like she belonged, and for the years after, she found herself light as a feather, both emotionally and physically. And the parties! She didn't always...remember them, but one of the letters from her father encouraged her (against the disapproving footnote from her mother) to experiment with the legendary Morander liver. Who was she to disobey her father?

Of course, all good things come to an end. Brutally. On a standard, everyday field training assignment, Zimmy drifted away from the others in a Mist-enhanced leap. A tiny prick in her thigh was all the warning she received: then the ground rushed up to meet her. When she woke, she was in a Vangar prison.

Five months in a Vangar prison. It could have been worse: they fed her, and gave her a fair bit of legroom. She was allowed access to a gym, on the condition that she wear a mist-shackle the entire time. After the first month, it started to feel a bit like the Citadel. The guards certainly acted the same. The food was actually a bit better.

She spent the time practicing. Not the actual magic, which they carefully kept her from using, but the mental tricks. She was allowed to read, work out, and talk to the other inmates. It wasn't much, but it was enough to [i]plan[/i]. The other, far more senior WARDEN prisoners warnned her against it, but the confidence of youth is powerful, combined with the desperation of devastating boredom and confinement.

The escape plan was only half formed when she was hauled out of the prison and packed onto a ship called the Palantine with the other WARDEN. The rumor was that some new peace-talks had lasted longer than a day, and a prisoner exchange would taking place as a show of good faith. Zimmy didn't really understand why she was valuable enough to be a part of the trade, but she wasn't about to complain. She just wanted to fly again.

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[Sub][b][color=darkgray] C O M B A T
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[color=eedabb][indent]Zimmy is not a front-line fighter. She doesn't even particularly like to fight. She likes to [i]fly[/i]. Gravity, wind, and friction are her domains, letting her slide along the ground, leap two stories into the air, and catch the updraft into the clouds. Flight magic is notoriously difficult, but she had plenty of other classes to ignore while practicing. So, naturally, she was scoped to be her squad's overwatch. A sniper rifle, binoculars, and camouflage are normally her tools, along with the ubiquitous combat knife every self-respecting soldier carries at all times.

On the ground, her priority is speed. Not necessarily agility, but raw speed. With her expertise of self-modifying wind and physics spells, she earned the [i]ridiculous[/i] name "Pinball", owing to her tendency to bounce around the battlefield and lay down covering fire. To a lesser extent, she can also use her spells on others, but something gets lost in the translation. In other words, she can't make anyone [i]else[/i] fly, but she can give them a pretty good gravitational tug in an unexpected direction.

It's worth noting that wind manipulation is far less glamorous than media would make it appear. There is no way of making "air blades" to cut with, or shields to stop rocks. The wind can deflect some things, and redirect others, but mostly it is a harrying and support type of magic.[/indent][/color]

[Sub][b][color=darkgray] N O T E S
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[color=eedabb][indent]There are whispers that the Morander family has a liver made of actual Mist, rendering them impervious to the longer term damage of copious amounts of alcohol. Testing is still ongoing.[/indent][/color]
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[hider= Morander's Relationships]
[i]As told to Roland, Zimmy's longtime Vangar guard. Unprompted, of course.[/i]

[u]Galahad[/u]
[indent]"Tall. Ice man. I like the way he thinks. Ask him about the time I convinced him to sneak out of the Citadel with me for a bar crawl in the city. Okay, I admit it was sort of a low point for both of us in our definitely-platonic relationship. I don't think he remembers it. Don't actually ask him about it, please. [i]Please.[/i]"[/indent]
[u]Asa[/u]
[indent]"Ah...sweet, sweet Asa. Maybe one day she'll find a way to out-drink me. She's got great style. You'd like her. I mean, [i]I[/i] like her, and you and I get along. Sometimes she just needs a guiding hand to get her to chill a little. Sometimes that's me. I think she likes me.[/indent]
[u]Lance[/u]
[indent]"Okay, don't judge me for this: Lance is hot." *snort* "Yeah so actually he uses the mist to throw fire around, so I'm hilarious not thirsty. Stop looking at me like that. Seriously, we're friends. He's been there for me at a few moments when no one else was, and I value that. He's funny, too. Kind of a lightweight, though.[/indent]
[u]Ray[/u]
[indent]"I fucking [i]love[/i] Ray. You don't even know, man: when I first got assigned to my squad I was terrified--you know, because of the whole anxiety slash self-esteem shit I told you about a couple days ago--anyway this beautiful man made me a soufflé. Where the fuck do you get soufflé ingredients as a fifteen year-old in a military fortress? Yeah, I would die for that man.[/indent]
[u]Betelgeuse[/u]
[indent]"Bete and I used to play this fun little game where she'd try to [i]shoot me out of the sky[/i], and I'd have to dodge it. God, I miss her. We're the same star-sign, actually. Basically sisters.[/indent]
[u]Sam[/u]
[indent]"Okay, lemme level with you here. I have no idea how to pronounce Sam's full name, and at this point I'm too afraid to ask. He's awesome, though. A bundle of cheer no matter what. I aspire to that level of positivity. One time me and him and Bete got together on a holiday a few years ago, and I swear I saw him get Betelgeuse, queen of Stern faces--hah, get it, god I'm hilarious--to crack a smile. The guy's got a soft center, though. So you know, if I ever see him again and he wants to talk about his problems, I hope he knows I'm there for him."[/indent]
[u]Sabina[/u]
[indent]"Okay so the thing about Sabina is that she's easy to hate. Trust me, I did for a long time. She's what we'd call abrasive. But then we got blackout drunk one night, and she spilled her guts to me and Asa, and it turns out she's all kinds of fucked up. Lots of mental health issues that the Citadel would never help out with. To be honest, I'm not sure that anyone but me remembers that night. Remember, I told you I have an invincible, possibly demonic liver."[/indent]
"...I probably shouldn't be telling you any of this, huh."
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