[center][url=https://imgbb.com/][img]https://i.ibb.co/YkSTsjg/Amalia-Signature.png[/img][/url][/center] Amalia sat on her old brown rolling chair in front of her white sewing machine. The needle had just broken inside of the denim jacket which Amalia had been trying to sew for what felt like ages now. Her sewing machine was not quite powerful enough to get through the beautiful, but thick, blue fabric. "Why does denim have to be in style right now?" She felt defeated, a feeling she was becoming all too familiar with. The one bedroom apartment had every light on, with every window open. This nice apartment in San Francisco cost her more than half of her monthly income the remaining amount always went to fabric and rarely food or other necessities. Amalia was living the starving artist life, even before the energy storm which, despite the new abilities she possessed, made her even more desperate for anything to be less of a struggle. She just wanted life to be simple again, happy. Amalia could draw herself a new needle for her sewing machine, the needles were getting stronger and stronger as she manifested them off the white sketchbook. In return with each drawing she felt herself growing. Often she wondered if she wasn't doing enough with her power. What more could she do? Could she cause as much pain and destruction as others with new abilities? The more Amalia thought about the bigger things she could do one day the more she wanted to scream. Overwhelmed. Scared. She felt it all, she just wanted a simple life. Yet she was here in this one bedroom apartment, away from both her New York and Philippines home with looming despair hanging over her. One would think Amalia wouldn't turn on the news, however, she turned on her phone to listen to the President's broadcast. "A blood test, huh? So they can track us? Or will they throw us away as soon as they know?" Amalia wondered out loud, "What freedoms could they be taking from us?" Amalia flipped through a few more videos on her phone. She was trying to steer away from radicals, like the Benny Stein or Reaper. Both of them leaned so far right or so far left that it made Amalia's head spin. There were few things she truly enjoyed right now. Amalia had very few close friends in the city, but she always enjoyed the company of the few she had, in particular Simon Hart. The other thing that made the days less dreadful and filled with anxiety was giving back to those who lost everything in the storm. Amalia found that her new power could be used for some good, which should earn her bonus points with the purging of the enhanced humans came, right? Amalia pushed off her rolling chair and walked over to a second table in her living room which had her sketch books and ideas on it. She started drawing all kinds of food items. Burgers, fries, salad, cupcakes, and her personal favorite, danishes. When she first discovered that she could save money by drawing food the food items she drew up were god awful. They were real, the right size, and the right color when she manifested them, but they tasted worse then cardboard, flavored with pepper. After a lot of practice, and gaining a few pounds she swore she would work off, the food had become exceptional. Amalia wished she could feed more FEMA camps and homeless shelters in San Fran and more often, but making enough food for one camp already took a toll on her. She could already feel the migraine coming and if she wasn't careful the eternal nosebleed would start. (At least she called it eternal, really it just lasted longer than she would like). After she finished up drawing enough food she grabbed some containers that she drew up the previous day along with some bags and headed out the door. Amalia did not have a car but did have a cute smile that would catch her neighbors attention, Dallyn, who did have a car. Yes, she was using him. The idea of having a single, down on her luck, lonely girl like Amalia in his bed was enough to make him drop anything he was doing and help her. She had wished Dallyn would help out of the goodness of his heart, but, beggars can't be choosers, now can they? With a knock on the door and smile to Dallyn he drove her right outside of the city to a FEMA camp. This was the first time Amalia had been out to this particular camp so nobody really knew her or what she was doing. When she first showed up at the other camps people took her food with caution and ate small bites, worried that she was someone trying to eliminate the population or potential enhanced humans. However after making small talk and showing a bit of kindness they usually warmed up to her. Amalia started passing out the food to the people at the camp. She saw a cute little girl with wide green eyes staring up at her and her heart melted. She remembered how her cousins and her used to up to her grandmother waiting to be served delicious baked treats, fresh from the oven, after school. Amalia felt a bit of a bitter sweet emotion run through her as she made sure the little girl walked away with her own personal favorite, the danish.