May I ask why? Is there anything to improve or could be changed/reworked?
Thank you for the insight.
Thank you for the insight.
Adora Bell Member
Your adorable community member!
STATUS: Shiny and new. Let's see what kind of mischief we can get up to! 7 yrs ago
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Shiny and new. Let's see what kind of mischief we can get up to!
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M A T I L D A H A N N A H F O R B E S
F e m a l e ● T w e n t y - F i v e ● A B - P o s i t i v e M U T A T I O N S
● See what I see
Matilda's mutation allows her silver hair to work like a radio antenna for the mind. This allows her to be able to project whatever she wants you to see so that you can see it. Like a hologram or waking dream just for you. You may not even realise that it's not real, after all she can give you your best dream, or your worst nightmare as if it were right there with you. So far she can only do one mind at a time, and it's only pictures or sound- never both.
Matilda's mutation allows her silver hair to work like a radio antenna for the mind. This allows her to be able to project whatever she wants you to see so that you can see it. Like a hologram or waking dream just for you. You may not even realise that it's not real, after all she can give you your best dream, or your worst nightmare as if it were right there with you. So far she can only do one mind at a time, and it's only pictures or sound- never both.
● What you don't know CAN hurt you
A build upon the previous, the projections or hallucinations- no one is around to properly define it anymore- can become solid. You thought that bear trap was just in your mind? Maybe it is but that doesn't make it any less real... *snap* This takes extra energy and concentration to form and maintain and as with her normal hallucinations she can only do one mind at a time, and so far only small things, like cords or traps.
A build upon the previous, the projections or hallucinations- no one is around to properly define it anymore- can become solid. You thought that bear trap was just in your mind? Maybe it is but that doesn't make it any less real... *snap* This takes extra energy and concentration to form and maintain and as with her normal hallucinations she can only do one mind at a time, and so far only small things, like cords or traps.
● I can smell your fear
Mia can sense fear through her hair too- like psychic sonar. With concentration she can also attune to what your fears are, to use as fuel for her projections. Dreams of the unconscious are also fair game for her ability, but harder, like a radio station that's just slightly out of tune.
Mia can sense fear through her hair too- like psychic sonar. With concentration she can also attune to what your fears are, to use as fuel for her projections. Dreams of the unconscious are also fair game for her ability, but harder, like a radio station that's just slightly out of tune.
A P P E A R A N C E
Matilda's skin was always her pride despite having incredibly good tanning genes. She always used to joke that "it took her a lot of work to look this pale." Since her transformation though the colour has changed from pale to grey- the colour of light pencil shading, or pewter. In the light it even gives off a faint sheen, like tarnished metal might. Her hair, always long and bleached blonde for so long it's hard to tell what her natural colour would have been under it all, although photos show a pretty auburn child, that too has changed to a monochromatic colour, in contrast to her skin tone though this is a bright shining silver, much like you might find in wiring in electronics. Black bony growths have protruded, almost like horns, through which her hair is gathered and now falls in long flowing pigtails, and where it used to be mid-back in length, is now closer to the back of her knees where it finishes.
Her eyes were always naturally grey, but now when opened are completely matte white- like people conceptualise blind people. She can see perfectly well, but the effect is eerie. This is accentuated but a darkening around them, almost like a mask, which starts black up from the 'horns' and fades to a darker shade of her grey skin across her nose. The black seems to creep further along this pigmentation with each use of her powers, as it does creeping from her finger tips, fading just above the elbow, like ball gloves. With the blackness comes a velvety softness, and the melding from human longing fingers to elegant finger-like shapes ending in points where nails would be and giving a silhouette of human fingers and hands with none of the definition- accentuating the glove like metaphor. Her feet do the same, finding out above the knee and the velvety blackness starting at her toes, melding them together to look like booted feet.
Hauntingly elegant Matilda stands tall for a girl at 5'9", and has a slender build. Large C cups and generous hips give her a figure, and her curves are soft in a way that she would never be considers skinny, but she is definitely more slender than she is chubby.
Between her collarbone sits a red, gem like growth. Dark and dull most of the time, it glows bright as she used her powers, washing her with red light, with a diffused but matching glow coming from her opaque eyes, and threading veinlike through her horns. Black misty tendrils swarm about her legs and root her in place as she uses her power, and her hair floats in the direction of the owner of the mind she is manipulating, where the antenna impression comes from.
Her eyes were always naturally grey, but now when opened are completely matte white- like people conceptualise blind people. She can see perfectly well, but the effect is eerie. This is accentuated but a darkening around them, almost like a mask, which starts black up from the 'horns' and fades to a darker shade of her grey skin across her nose. The black seems to creep further along this pigmentation with each use of her powers, as it does creeping from her finger tips, fading just above the elbow, like ball gloves. With the blackness comes a velvety softness, and the melding from human longing fingers to elegant finger-like shapes ending in points where nails would be and giving a silhouette of human fingers and hands with none of the definition- accentuating the glove like metaphor. Her feet do the same, finding out above the knee and the velvety blackness starting at her toes, melding them together to look like booted feet.
Hauntingly elegant Matilda stands tall for a girl at 5'9", and has a slender build. Large C cups and generous hips give her a figure, and her curves are soft in a way that she would never be considers skinny, but she is definitely more slender than she is chubby.
Between her collarbone sits a red, gem like growth. Dark and dull most of the time, it glows bright as she used her powers, washing her with red light, with a diffused but matching glow coming from her opaque eyes, and threading veinlike through her horns. Black misty tendrils swarm about her legs and root her in place as she uses her power, and her hair floats in the direction of the owner of the mind she is manipulating, where the antenna impression comes from.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Matilda has always been a compassionate, heart on her sleeve kinda girl, with a healthy dose of sarcasm bred into her. She will go above and beyond to help the people she cares about, and kill you with kind sass if she thinks you're trash. Getting close to her can be difficult- she's been hurt by shallow people too many times and is cautious about who she lets into her heart and life- but once you're there she will show you a world full of love and kindness that you may never have encountered from one person before.
Born to the rich elite she's learnt how to judge and sass with the best of them, and it has become her defence mechanism. Happy, sad, angry- you'll know as soon as you see her, she can't hide them for the life of her (she's the worst at poker). She's also a dreamer, and easily bored. Probably why becoming a novelist appealed to her so much. She can usually be found daydreaming in a corner at another one of the endless parties she is obliged to attend, or holed up in her apartment writing out the scenes she dreams up at them.
Born to the rich elite she's learnt how to judge and sass with the best of them, and it has become her defence mechanism. Happy, sad, angry- you'll know as soon as you see her, she can't hide them for the life of her (she's the worst at poker). She's also a dreamer, and easily bored. Probably why becoming a novelist appealed to her so much. She can usually be found daydreaming in a corner at another one of the endless parties she is obliged to attend, or holed up in her apartment writing out the scenes she dreams up at them.
T H E L I F E O F M A T I L D A
Matilda was born as the perfect child of the perfect couple. Cities most eligible movie director bachelor meet the princess of petroleum and cue fairytale marriage. At least, to the outside. Truth was, as with many of the wealthy elite this was a match set up by parents and media and is convenient for the image of both involved but there's no love between them. Matilda however has been doted on by the both of them, even though illness took the ability to conceive away from her mother a few years afterwards.
With money and status comes the responsibility to live up to an image always. There's no room to relax or fall off he rails with the whole world watching. Matilda was no exception, although has always wanted to make her parents proud of her, catching very early that she was the glue of their happy little life. She attended the best schools and tried to make the connections so important in the adult life circles, and managed to float between social groups, forming the connections without the complete politicking drama that goes with it. She did well in school, and managed not to cause scandal- so much easier these days than it ever was. When graduation came around she chose not to attend college, but had loved stories growing up and wanted to share hers with the world.
Needless to say her parents weren't pleased, she being an heiress and all, they reached a compromise whereby she would learn how to both handle business (or rather wrangle the boards that run the business), as well as figure out how to direct a film- so she could theoretically run both her family fortunes in later life. The compromise being that these would be weekly in turn with being able to write, so in a three week rotation she would effectively have three jobs. It keeps her busy but oddly sane, to be able to change mindsets regularly. She's been successful in her ventures, having co-directed a major motion film with her father, helped her mother expand heir business into new directions and just published her third book with great success. Now. If only she could find a guy that would be an asset, rather than just in it for her money. Love would be great but realistically not gonna happen. Love is for the common person, a fairytale for people in the higher echelons, but apparently a decent human being is also nothing but fiction.
The First Day
Her morning had been uneventful, which had been nice for a change. Back on a week of writing she had a very productive start to her day, finishing scoping her storyboard for her new novel. The digital screen wall of her office showed snippets of over arching stories and little arcs, scenes she'd dreamt up and her scope for this new book. She was pretty excited about it, ready to type up the synopsis for her publisher by the end of the week. But this afternoon she reluctantly had to stop what she was doing and attend another party. Ostensibly this was a funeral, but that only influenced the start and fashion code. The rest would be playboys going too hard, and business deals brokered behind closed doors with whiskey like all the others. Her mother had sent over a lovely black ballgown, strapless and corseted with a full skirt, with intricate embroidery from the hem working its way up to mid thigh to look wispy and smoky in greys and sparkles. She actually really liked this one. Completing it with a black velvet chocked with a chandelier design of beaded strings coming down over her collarbones. Satisfied she realised she was nearly late to catch the limo her mother would have sent to collect her.
The start of the soirée was muted and respectful. The guy was some billionaire who had been a friend of her mothers father or some such. The reception after lived entirely up to her expectations, with the partiers leaving to go indulge in expensive drugs and give the tabloids new headlines for the next few weeks. One such, an aquaintence from her high school wandered over, and chance allowed a waitress with champagne to wander by. Grabbing one to cope with turning him down, again, she felt it start as he was talking to her. Pins and needles started in her fingers and feet, and took over her scalp. Her eyes felt sandy and itchy all of a sudden, and she frowned at her champagne glass. Apologising and fleeing the room she made it to the bathroom before he agony set in.
Every nerve in her body was on fire. Her head felt like it was splitting open and she could see visions running past so quickly, nightmares and beautiful dreams, getting faster until all she was was red and white a black luring together until there was nothing anymore. Waking up she realised she had passed out, and figuring her drink must have been spiked she picked heeled up and went to straighten her looks. The girl in the mirror had changed into a demon. Which her mothers horrified face reflected too behind her.
Turning and desperate for her mother not to see her this way she reached out, unconsciously using her mind to do so. She wanted her to still see her little girl badly enough, and her mothers face relaxed, the usual doting look of love coming over it. Telling her mother she wasn't feeling well and was going home, she left taking back ways to avoid others seeing her. She didn't know what she had done, not really, but she felt like her mum had seen her as she should have looked. As Matilda wanted her to see her.
She was lost in thought about it, wandering home and only half worried that there were no cabs driving around to catch. That's when she saw them. They had hunted down a homeless person and were fighting each other to grab a piece. Instinctively she swore in horror, which drew the attention from the couple in the back. Their gaze focused on her and she ran. She took a wrong turn, finding herself in a dead end alley, with free of them advancing on her. She needed a distraction, and almost without thinking about it the gem she hadn't noticed before started glowing. Her skirt turned into tendrils rooting her in a misty writhing mass, and she closed her eyes imaging a cry for help coming from the street beyond echoing through the empty streets. The farthest two turned to listen and she managed to generate the cry again. They took off, searching for their easier prey. One stayed, advancing on her, happy that this kill it wouldn't have to share. Her mind thought frantically. This was no human, not anymore. The only way out was to kill it, and the surest way to deal with monsters was to remove the head- that's the one thing common throughout literature anyway right? Could she..? With a might of concentration she thought about a thin wire spanning the alleyway at neck level. She thought about it being real so hard she didn't hear the thing start running, and she barely felt the twang of the string in her mind as it hit it. Minutes later she opened her eyes, and let go her mind almost feeling like it was going to cramp. And that when she saw it crumpled. Head detached from its shoulders, but no string in sight. She did check, not wanting to kill herself just yet. Fleeing into the night she made it home without further incident, unsure of her next move. In the way that all people try to cope with shock she went to bed, figuring it was drugs or maybe the war had come to New Windsor. Or it was all a bad dream. Any which way it would probably be better and make more sense in the morning. Right?
With money and status comes the responsibility to live up to an image always. There's no room to relax or fall off he rails with the whole world watching. Matilda was no exception, although has always wanted to make her parents proud of her, catching very early that she was the glue of their happy little life. She attended the best schools and tried to make the connections so important in the adult life circles, and managed to float between social groups, forming the connections without the complete politicking drama that goes with it. She did well in school, and managed not to cause scandal- so much easier these days than it ever was. When graduation came around she chose not to attend college, but had loved stories growing up and wanted to share hers with the world.
Needless to say her parents weren't pleased, she being an heiress and all, they reached a compromise whereby she would learn how to both handle business (or rather wrangle the boards that run the business), as well as figure out how to direct a film- so she could theoretically run both her family fortunes in later life. The compromise being that these would be weekly in turn with being able to write, so in a three week rotation she would effectively have three jobs. It keeps her busy but oddly sane, to be able to change mindsets regularly. She's been successful in her ventures, having co-directed a major motion film with her father, helped her mother expand heir business into new directions and just published her third book with great success. Now. If only she could find a guy that would be an asset, rather than just in it for her money. Love would be great but realistically not gonna happen. Love is for the common person, a fairytale for people in the higher echelons, but apparently a decent human being is also nothing but fiction.
The First Day
Her morning had been uneventful, which had been nice for a change. Back on a week of writing she had a very productive start to her day, finishing scoping her storyboard for her new novel. The digital screen wall of her office showed snippets of over arching stories and little arcs, scenes she'd dreamt up and her scope for this new book. She was pretty excited about it, ready to type up the synopsis for her publisher by the end of the week. But this afternoon she reluctantly had to stop what she was doing and attend another party. Ostensibly this was a funeral, but that only influenced the start and fashion code. The rest would be playboys going too hard, and business deals brokered behind closed doors with whiskey like all the others. Her mother had sent over a lovely black ballgown, strapless and corseted with a full skirt, with intricate embroidery from the hem working its way up to mid thigh to look wispy and smoky in greys and sparkles. She actually really liked this one. Completing it with a black velvet chocked with a chandelier design of beaded strings coming down over her collarbones. Satisfied she realised she was nearly late to catch the limo her mother would have sent to collect her.
The start of the soirée was muted and respectful. The guy was some billionaire who had been a friend of her mothers father or some such. The reception after lived entirely up to her expectations, with the partiers leaving to go indulge in expensive drugs and give the tabloids new headlines for the next few weeks. One such, an aquaintence from her high school wandered over, and chance allowed a waitress with champagne to wander by. Grabbing one to cope with turning him down, again, she felt it start as he was talking to her. Pins and needles started in her fingers and feet, and took over her scalp. Her eyes felt sandy and itchy all of a sudden, and she frowned at her champagne glass. Apologising and fleeing the room she made it to the bathroom before he agony set in.
Every nerve in her body was on fire. Her head felt like it was splitting open and she could see visions running past so quickly, nightmares and beautiful dreams, getting faster until all she was was red and white a black luring together until there was nothing anymore. Waking up she realised she had passed out, and figuring her drink must have been spiked she picked heeled up and went to straighten her looks. The girl in the mirror had changed into a demon. Which her mothers horrified face reflected too behind her.
Turning and desperate for her mother not to see her this way she reached out, unconsciously using her mind to do so. She wanted her to still see her little girl badly enough, and her mothers face relaxed, the usual doting look of love coming over it. Telling her mother she wasn't feeling well and was going home, she left taking back ways to avoid others seeing her. She didn't know what she had done, not really, but she felt like her mum had seen her as she should have looked. As Matilda wanted her to see her.
She was lost in thought about it, wandering home and only half worried that there were no cabs driving around to catch. That's when she saw them. They had hunted down a homeless person and were fighting each other to grab a piece. Instinctively she swore in horror, which drew the attention from the couple in the back. Their gaze focused on her and she ran. She took a wrong turn, finding herself in a dead end alley, with free of them advancing on her. She needed a distraction, and almost without thinking about it the gem she hadn't noticed before started glowing. Her skirt turned into tendrils rooting her in a misty writhing mass, and she closed her eyes imaging a cry for help coming from the street beyond echoing through the empty streets. The farthest two turned to listen and she managed to generate the cry again. They took off, searching for their easier prey. One stayed, advancing on her, happy that this kill it wouldn't have to share. Her mind thought frantically. This was no human, not anymore. The only way out was to kill it, and the surest way to deal with monsters was to remove the head- that's the one thing common throughout literature anyway right? Could she..? With a might of concentration she thought about a thin wire spanning the alleyway at neck level. She thought about it being real so hard she didn't hear the thing start running, and she barely felt the twang of the string in her mind as it hit it. Minutes later she opened her eyes, and let go her mind almost feeling like it was going to cramp. And that when she saw it crumpled. Head detached from its shoulders, but no string in sight. She did check, not wanting to kill herself just yet. Fleeing into the night she made it home without further incident, unsure of her next move. In the way that all people try to cope with shock she went to bed, figuring it was drugs or maybe the war had come to New Windsor. Or it was all a bad dream. Any which way it would probably be better and make more sense in the morning. Right?
E Q U I P M E N T
● Notepad and pen
● Smartphone.
● Clothes repair kit incl. needle, thread, buttons, safety pins etc.
● Hip flask with whiskey in
P R O F I C I E N C I E S
● Movers and Shakers Years of social schmoozing and back room deal making means she's the girl who knows connections. She has also become a skilled negotiator, in the political circles of "scratch my back, I'll scratch yours and read the fine print where we screw each other over." She's at home with negotiating and spotting the why in deals that seem to good to be true. It's also given her the ability to watch behaviour patterns and guess quickly (and correctly) what makes you tick in order to wrangle a favourable deal.
● "I can fit you in.... Being a socialite with three jobs to juggle keeps her pretty busy, but it's also forced her to be a pro at scheduling and time management. It's also allowed her to learn how to prioritise on the run. Alongside she has an amazing memory for names and faces, from senior board members to the new waitress just started at the coffee shop down the road.
● "I can see the ending..." years of writing stories paired with a creatively dreamy mind has given her the ability to play scenarios in her head to see how they're going to end, probably, and where to act to change that ending. If she wanted to be she could be really good at chess.
● "I can fit you in.... Being a socialite with three jobs to juggle keeps her pretty busy, but it's also forced her to be a pro at scheduling and time management. It's also allowed her to learn how to prioritise on the run. Alongside she has an amazing memory for names and faces, from senior board members to the new waitress just started at the coffee shop down the road.
● "I can see the ending..." years of writing stories paired with a creatively dreamy mind has given her the ability to play scenarios in her head to see how they're going to end, probably, and where to act to change that ending. If she wanted to be she could be really good at chess.
L I M I T A T I O N S
● "Give a gal a drink" Matilda's vice is drinking. With a stressful life of operating between three totally different jobs and always being in the public eye, it's stressful and caffeine just doesn't cut it. Drugs are too "pathetic" and the media loves to shame those high profilers who do them, but no one looks askance at someone drinking alcohol. She's learnt where her drunk line is, and she toes it carefully, but it's just not the end of a day or social situation without a drink in hand.
● "Rooted to the spot." The downside to Matilda's power is that she literally has to stop to use it. She becomes rooted to the spot, like a person sized radio tower. Furthermore to actually see your personal hopes and fears she needs to actually be able to touch your head, bringing her much closer than she'd like to someone who's gonna hurt her.
● "Please don't hurt me" Matilda's mutations provide her with no physical defence beyond her human flesh and bone. She is no easier or harder to kill than your standard human, provided you don't succumb to her hallucinations- or she's distracted by someone or something else.
● "Rooted to the spot." The downside to Matilda's power is that she literally has to stop to use it. She becomes rooted to the spot, like a person sized radio tower. Furthermore to actually see your personal hopes and fears she needs to actually be able to touch your head, bringing her much closer than she'd like to someone who's gonna hurt her.
● "Please don't hurt me" Matilda's mutations provide her with no physical defence beyond her human flesh and bone. She is no easier or harder to kill than your standard human, provided you don't succumb to her hallucinations- or she's distracted by someone or something else.
R E L A T I O N S
● Gabriella Forbes is Matilda's mother of forty-eight, a petroleum corporation president
● Elliot Forbes is her father of forty-two, major film director.
● Elliot Forbes is her father of forty-two, major film director.
I have two new concepts, and though at work just now i am trying to go through and see which one sticks better in my imagination that I can run with. It's no problem really ^_^ I'm rather annoyed at myself for the initial mistake, and excited to see a similar concept! Great minds think alike after all right?!
Quick question though- would a mutation allowing the ability to generate hallucinations be both a) allowed and b)an AB-positive blood type?
Quick question though- would a mutation allowing the ability to generate hallucinations be both a) allowed and b)an AB-positive blood type?
I accidentally deleted everything I've worked on and now it seems my idea has more or less been described by Dreamingflowers. So back to the drawing board but I promise it's going to be worth the wait (probably).
I also honk I posted my original please wait in the wrong place ^^;
I also honk I posted my original please wait in the wrong place ^^;
In
Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters)
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7 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
Yay! I will start on my character sheet (I take a while
Conceptualising haha).
Conceptualising haha).
In
Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters)
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7 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
May I still express my interest in this ?
I think you could herald the theme of those decades but bring them into modern times. Sequins and tassels could make a come back, and the hair and body met things are already proliferating. Short cuts with big curls is classic and pretty and making a comeback. And there's neat electroswing music coming in strong. Plus, who doesn't wanna bring back a decade of cocktails instead of beer and wine. Yummier AND classier.
Horribly Harry
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