Member
⫸ B A S I C I N F O R M A T I O N ⫷
"Life's a goddamn pervert. Likes to grab ya by the balls. Thing is, you can grab 'im right back."
▼ | BIRTH NAME : |
▼ | ALSO KNOWN AS: |
▼ | GENDER : |
▼ | AGE : |
Barbara Leigh-Anne Kimble
▼ | ALSO KNOWN AS: |
Professor Bad-Ass, Bobbi
▼ | GENDER : |
Female
▼ | AGE : |
24
⫸ A P P E A R A N C E ⫷
"Da clothes don' make da gal. Da gal makes da clothes. And, fuck, who needs 'em anyway?"
▼ | P H Y S I C AL S T A T S : |
▼ | PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION : |
▼ | ATTIRE : |
▸ HEIGHT : | 4'11"
▸ WEIGHT : | 105lbs
▸ ETHNICITY : | Mixed - Latinx/French-Cajun
▸ HAIR COLOR : | Black, partial bleaching to the ends
▸ EYE COLOR : | Brown
▸ WEIGHT : | 105lbs
▸ ETHNICITY : | Mixed - Latinx/French-Cajun
▸ HAIR COLOR : | Black, partial bleaching to the ends
▸ EYE COLOR : | Brown
▼ | PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION : |
Bobbi is a scrawny little bit of a thing. While having some shape, she certainly isn't the sort of curvy pin-up minx she would like to be. Her small stature and slender build are things that she wholeheartedly will take advantage of; be it the way small girls are fetishized or proving that even small girls can kick butt.
She has angular features, high cheekbones, and a clear cut jaw. Her face, and some other things, are littered with freckles and she loves them. She makes no attempt to cover them and generally goes for more natural make-up. Nude lipsticks/gloss and if she is feeling extra fancy she will give herself a sharp wing-tip and prefers blue or purple for eyeshadow. She tends to not wash the make-up from her face and so will sometimes have a smudgy look around her eyes and a stained pillowcase. Her skin is a light bronzed color, mostly from her genes and less from time spent in the sun. She has scars over her forearm and thighs from self-harm committed in the past.
Her black hair is typically straight, though in more humid weather it may start to frizz and become wavy. She doesn't care much about it and keeps it long despite this giving her a near constant bed-head. Unless she decides to brush it that day. Bobbi typically keeps her hair down, but on special occasions may give herself a "Grande" ponytail. Despite her style, she only has a couple of piercings. Most in her ears but she does have a nose ring. She also doesn't have any tattoos. They are much too expensive and she would rather eat.
She has angular features, high cheekbones, and a clear cut jaw. Her face, and some other things, are littered with freckles and she loves them. She makes no attempt to cover them and generally goes for more natural make-up. Nude lipsticks/gloss and if she is feeling extra fancy she will give herself a sharp wing-tip and prefers blue or purple for eyeshadow. She tends to not wash the make-up from her face and so will sometimes have a smudgy look around her eyes and a stained pillowcase. Her skin is a light bronzed color, mostly from her genes and less from time spent in the sun. She has scars over her forearm and thighs from self-harm committed in the past.
Her black hair is typically straight, though in more humid weather it may start to frizz and become wavy. She doesn't care much about it and keeps it long despite this giving her a near constant bed-head. Unless she decides to brush it that day. Bobbi typically keeps her hair down, but on special occasions may give herself a "Grande" ponytail. Despite her style, she only has a couple of piercings. Most in her ears but she does have a nose ring. She also doesn't have any tattoos. They are much too expensive and she would rather eat.
▼ | ATTIRE : |
Her favorite? Leather. Leather. More leather. Bobbi has a preference for black, shiny, and tight. Tank tops, biker jacket, metal studs, high waisted leather pants, thick boots. She is the epitome of a 50's greaser chick. When she is feeling girlie she loves herself some heels and fishnets. However, they are not practical so she almost never wears them. Mostly though, she wears what she can get her hands on and is not one to actually care about her clothes or getting dirty. Jeans, sweatshirts, a sheet cut and tied - whatever as long as it is form fitting and comfortable.
⫸ P S Y C H O L O G Y ⫷
"Hey dere Sarah Jessica Parker, why da long face? Ha, come have a drink ya mopey shit."
▼ | PERSONALITY TRAITS : |
▼ | SKILLS : |
▼ | BACK STORY : |
| Outgoing | Irresponsible | Easy-going | Commitment Issues | Open | Loud | Laughs Easily | Personable |
Bobbi sees herself as a fun and adventurous person. She doesn't stay in one spot for long and makes friends easier that Mattel makes money. She is open, welcoming, and delightful. Bobbi does swear like a sailor but everything she does is an attempt at good fun. She is quick to share anecdotes from her past, give wholesome advice, and take the youngins under her wing. Unfortunately, this can sometimes lead to trouble as she doesn't always make the best of decisions. She tends to be flighty or flaky, easily distracted and pulled away to other, more interesting things. She has been known to abandon her friend at a bar in order to go home with some lovely someone or another for a fling. Bobbi can't seem to help herself and has never been able to keep a consistent relationship due to this. She tends to get caught cheating.
She doesn't tend to take much very seriously. Life is a goddamn joke and she is going to treat it like one. Life gives you lemons you take a bite into it while maintaining eye contact with that fucker. While having this tough outer crust she does have some fears. She hates being alone as this causes her too much time to think. This is why she is likely to put herself in danger by going to stranger's homes or bringing them to her motel. The fear of silence and alone-ness is greater than the potential for death.
What she doesn't show and what lives deep down beneath her sweet and sassy persona is a lot of hurts. She has a lot of self-hatred that she is learning to deal with in more positive ways. She also has trouble making deep personal connections. Her fear of commitment stemming from her own self-doubt and the possibility of hurting the other person. Though she is quite personable and chatty, she keeps people at arm's length. And god forbid anyone ever tells her that they love her. It would make her anxious and feel that she has to run. The words of love and caring are a negative part of her past and it is difficult for her to hear them without thinking they ring false.
Loud and opinionated she can be a constant thorn in a more reasonable person's side. Despite her fear of commitment, this doesn't mean she doesn't care. Despite her more negative traits, she can be a motherly and soothing person. She can be a bit overly protective of young women and is the type to rescue a girl obviously uncomfortable at the bar. Bobbi is not the sort to judge a book by its cover and is typically a more "relaxed" and easy going sort of person. She doesn't take direction or demands all that well but can be persuaded through bribery. When flustered, embarrassed, or upset in some way she has a tendency to chain smoke and space out, in a way dead to the world as she is lost in her own thoughts. A sort of disassociation with reality for a bit. Sometimes she comes out of it on her own, other times she may have to be "woken up." She does genuinely care about people and wants to see them happy. She just puts herself first and is more likely to run from a fight than help. That's how she has made it this far in life.
Bobbi sees herself as a fun and adventurous person. She doesn't stay in one spot for long and makes friends easier that Mattel makes money. She is open, welcoming, and delightful. Bobbi does swear like a sailor but everything she does is an attempt at good fun. She is quick to share anecdotes from her past, give wholesome advice, and take the youngins under her wing. Unfortunately, this can sometimes lead to trouble as she doesn't always make the best of decisions. She tends to be flighty or flaky, easily distracted and pulled away to other, more interesting things. She has been known to abandon her friend at a bar in order to go home with some lovely someone or another for a fling. Bobbi can't seem to help herself and has never been able to keep a consistent relationship due to this. She tends to get caught cheating.
She doesn't tend to take much very seriously. Life is a goddamn joke and she is going to treat it like one. Life gives you lemons you take a bite into it while maintaining eye contact with that fucker. While having this tough outer crust she does have some fears. She hates being alone as this causes her too much time to think. This is why she is likely to put herself in danger by going to stranger's homes or bringing them to her motel. The fear of silence and alone-ness is greater than the potential for death.
What she doesn't show and what lives deep down beneath her sweet and sassy persona is a lot of hurts. She has a lot of self-hatred that she is learning to deal with in more positive ways. She also has trouble making deep personal connections. Her fear of commitment stemming from her own self-doubt and the possibility of hurting the other person. Though she is quite personable and chatty, she keeps people at arm's length. And god forbid anyone ever tells her that they love her. It would make her anxious and feel that she has to run. The words of love and caring are a negative part of her past and it is difficult for her to hear them without thinking they ring false.
Loud and opinionated she can be a constant thorn in a more reasonable person's side. Despite her fear of commitment, this doesn't mean she doesn't care. Despite her more negative traits, she can be a motherly and soothing person. She can be a bit overly protective of young women and is the type to rescue a girl obviously uncomfortable at the bar. Bobbi is not the sort to judge a book by its cover and is typically a more "relaxed" and easy going sort of person. She doesn't take direction or demands all that well but can be persuaded through bribery. When flustered, embarrassed, or upset in some way she has a tendency to chain smoke and space out, in a way dead to the world as she is lost in her own thoughts. A sort of disassociation with reality for a bit. Sometimes she comes out of it on her own, other times she may have to be "woken up." She does genuinely care about people and wants to see them happy. She just puts herself first and is more likely to run from a fight than help. That's how she has made it this far in life.
▼ | SKILLS : |
⫸Driving: Since she got her license she has never stopped. She is best with motorbikes but can handle a car or truck (typical road, no semi) with ease. After all, there is some money to be made street racing.
⫸Iron Liver and the Bottomless Pit: Girl can drink like a sailor and eat like a football player.
⫸Mechanic: Partially self-taught, again mostly motorbikes but she has had quite a bit of experience with cars. She has worked on both as a way to earn pay when she is not involved in certain other activities.
⫸Street Fighting: Dirty, cheating, no holds barred sort of fighting. It is not nice and not stylized. You do what you have to and look for any weak point you can exploit. She also uses her petite stature and limberness to work against larger opponents.
⫸Billiards/Pinball: Well, you gotta have something to do when you are drinking. And ain't nothing as satisfying as a successful hustle.
⫸Iron Liver and the Bottomless Pit: Girl can drink like a sailor and eat like a football player.
⫸Mechanic: Partially self-taught, again mostly motorbikes but she has had quite a bit of experience with cars. She has worked on both as a way to earn pay when she is not involved in certain other activities.
⫸Street Fighting: Dirty, cheating, no holds barred sort of fighting. It is not nice and not stylized. You do what you have to and look for any weak point you can exploit. She also uses her petite stature and limberness to work against larger opponents.
⫸Billiards/Pinball: Well, you gotta have something to do when you are drinking. And ain't nothing as satisfying as a successful hustle.
▼ | BACK STORY : |
Miss Barbara was born without a father, to some street bitch in New Orleans. Bobbi never learned the woman's name besides Mama. Though some men called her Harriet. Harriet the Harlot. That wasn't her real name but it was what everyone else called her. She grew up among garbage littered across the floor, vomit all over the toilet, and needles emptied of mysterious substances strewn about. She never forgot to put on her shoes before getting out of bed.
Despite her mother's addiction and lack of care for the world, she behaved lovingly toward Bobbi. They would lay down on the couch together and watch a movie. Mama would stroke her hair. More often than not she fell asleep and Bobbi would be alone, cuddled in her mother's arms. Very rarely they had outings to the park. Bobbi got to play. Mama got to stock up. Most of her meals were microwavable and Bobbi learned how to do this for herself and her mother. Once her mother tucked her into bed and sang a sweet southern lullaby to her. That was probably the highlight of her childhood.
When she was about five, her Mamma got a boyfriend. Paul. They moved into his lovely and immaculate house. Paul kept the house clean, he had an amazing corporate job which paid good money. Harriet didn't have to sell it on the corner anymore, though she still struggled with addiction. Paul's predilection, however, was for Bobbi. And generally girls Bobbi's age. She never had friends over. She wanted to, of course, but she didn't want anything to happen to those girls. As time went on she began to lose those friends and became rather quiet and reclusive. Perhaps twice a week he started those nightly visits after Harriet would relax with a needle in her arm. Eventually, Harriet didn't need to be drugged. Maybe she went to bed. Maybe she was watching a movie. Or she went out for 'girl's night'.
And then there were all of the presents. Toys, dolls, and jewelry. The one she adored most looked like a little cage with a softly glowing white bird inside. And for years this weird sort of symbiosis between Mama and Paul continued. Bobbi let it be, what else could she do? He threatened her if she ever told her mother. Bad things would happen to her or happen to Mama. She knew nothing else really and she had to admit it was nice to not have to wade through piles of chip bags, condoms, and pill bottles. Never knowing if something was piss or puke soaked. A small silver lining, she supposed.
When Bobbi was 10 Paul broke up with Mama. She and Mama moved out. Mama was mad. At Bobbi? At the world? Who knew. Bobbi didn't quite understand it. She had been a good girl and done all the things he had asked. And yet, he had abandoned them. She felt so alone. A mother she was alienated from and a secret she had to keep from the rest of her life weighed heavily on the girl.
Mama had gotten used to a clean house, nice clothes, and a constant/reliable source of drugs. And so it was up to Bobbi to keep it so. Almost military, really. Tuck in sheets, clean corners with toothbrushes... Run down to the corner and get some Xanax from some guy named Mark. Mama had begun to expect a lot from her daughter and laid hands on her when it didn't meet her newly upgraded expectations. She was growing more and more resentful of the woman who was supposed to love her. Who now rarely showed her affection. Her grades were bad, she was often in detention, and was referred to as 'a troubled child.'
It is about here we come to Bobbi's teenage years. She falls in with the "wrong" crowd. She discovers the boons of drugs and booze. 13 and she had a connection for anything she wanted. It was around this time that Paul had come back into their lives. He'd had a daughter you see. Julia. And Julia needed a mother. He apologized and wept. He spoke of his constant regret for leaving them. He promised to make everything better. Everything right. Bobbi wanted to roll her eyes. Maybe kick him in the nards. Could Mama be so stupid? As it turned out, yes. After a few weeks of courting, Mama accepted Paul again. Bobbi moved back into that grand house with so many loathsome memories.
As it would turn out, unbeknownst to Bobbi, she had grown much too old for him and no nightly visits happened. In a way, it was a relief for her. She didn't have to go to bed wondering if Paul would make a visit. However, after a few nights at the house, it became quite apparent why. Julia's room was right next to her own. She could hear it. She knew he was getting everything he wanted from Julia. She saw the signs, the presents, and everything made her sick. It made her feel so useless and she felt as if nothing mattered any longer. She couldn't save herself from such a monster. How was she supposed to save Julia? Bobbi felt so much guilt for not being able to stand up to the man. Paul had all of the power here and often made sure she knew. Little whispers, a snide comment at the dinner table which would have both girls picking at their meals. Mama never seemed to notice or care.
Bobbi started hanging around this 30-year-old guy, Happy. Happy liked to pamper her, keep her drugged up, and just take pictures. Bobbi didn't mind so much. He made her feel pretty and worthwhile. Made her feel like she was special. Slowly then came the prostitution. She relished it, the power she had over men, the looks on their faces. She could be the one in control. She could be the one on top. It thrilled her. In return she got drugs and Happy got paid. Bobbi did this for about six months before Happy disappeared.
When she no longer had this source of sex and drugs, she returned to a life with Paul and Harriet. She was home more often. She could see the defeated and drawn look in Julia's face. A mirror of her own once upon a day. Something boiled in her stomach but she felt she had no power to change a single thing. She hated herself more for it. Bobbi took to breaking small things in the home. A vase. A coaster. A figurine. For the most part, she behaved otherwise and got clean, got her drivers license and loved the freedom of it. It made it easy to stay away and to ignore what was happening in her household. She would hang out in garages, go to illegal rallies, and dated men much too old for her. But they had cars, they knew about cars, taught her mechanics, and best of all... they had drugs. At this time she mostly indulged in booze and marijuana. Though she did occasionally do things a bit harder.
16 - two years later, that was when the worst thing in the world she could do finally happened. High on some sort of meth mixture that she had been unknowingly dosed with, she came home. She walked down the hall full of regret and self-hatred, staggering and knocking a picture off the wall. There was a muffled cry. A shushing sound. And a rage formed in her belly she couldn't describe. She kicked the door of Julia's room in and it flew from the hinges. She reached out a hand and grabbed onto something. Something wooden. Upon looking she found that most of her arm had disappeared into a ring of soft white light that was just large enough for her arm to get through. Bobbi pulled and out came a sledgehammer. Its head was shiny black and it sparkled like stars. The deep red-brown of the wood was carved with symbols she could not read. None of the mattered now though.
She turned on Paul and gave him the beating of a lifetime. Bobbi didn't know if she killed him or not. In her drugged haze she looked at Julia. The girl was terrified and in the corner, sheets pulled up over her nose. "You have blood on your cheek," Julia said. Bobbi reached a hand up and smeared it away. There was a lot of blood. Everywhere. The hammer had disappeared. When she turned around her mother was there, glaring at her. "Get. the fuck. out. of. my. house... now."
And so she did. Just walked out. She estimated she spent three days without remembering what happened after that. She awoke on a bench by a river, dirty, smelly, and starving three cities away from where she had once lived. What she had done during this time was a mystery to her. Bobbi had only a small idea of how to live a life without having to rely on others. She grew up independent of things like family and love. So she did everything she had to. After meeting up with some of her car friends and explaining what happened, she learned about an underground fighting ring. Specifically for Metahumans. Betting was common there. People liked to watch the Deltas duke it out. And so she fought under the name Professor Bad-Ass. Oh, how she fought. Each blow was like hitting her mother back. Like hitting Paul again. She felt like she had actual power over her life now. At first, she lost and lost a lot. With time she got better. She drove and worked and did everything she could to survive. Bobbi never finished high school.
At 17 she met Gray. Gray was gentle, sweet, and loving. She was ashamed to admit, but she could not help herself. She often cheated. He deserved so much better than her, but he always stayed. Always forgave. He was the one to help her gain mastery of pinball. It was sort of an obsession for him. Gray also enjoyed heroin, and she joined him. Why not? What else really mattered? It felt good. She felt good for once in her stained life.
Here she fell deeper into a world filled with drugs and crime. Occasionally she indulged, marijuana and cocaine perhaps. Heroin had become her true vice. And with her outgoing and charming personality met a grand amount of crazy characters. She lived a passionate life with a man who loved and adored her. But she was fucking scum.
After two months of this constant drug binge, Bobbi began to see the way the money never seemed to stick around. They were about to be evicted. She did what she could to get him off of heroin. She tried to get herself off of it, but it just felt so good. A release from all of the pain the world had given her. Gray overdosed six months into their relationship and she used what little money he left her and sold all of his possessions to buy a motorbike and travel. She couldn't stand the feeling of being tied down any longer. She couldn't stand to look at anything to do with Gray. Her first real chance at love. She has not touched a pinball machine since. However, any chance she had at indulging in heroin was taken up without protest.
Travel she did. She followed bands, joined the rainbow road for maybe half a year. When she fought she discovered two new weapons - Major Medical Bills and Sheriff Nap-Time. Her life was one of inconsistency and chaos. Nothing seemed to matter. She hoped she would die in one of those fights.
She wasn't sure when it happened. 18, nearly 19 now and her life had never amounted to very much. Maybe it started at the end of her rainbow road adventure, having to take a seventeen-year-old girl to the hospital because she was OD'ing. Something about this lifestyle of drugs and how she had even lasted this long... It was too much. It was time for a change. She started going to NA and has been clean of all drugs for nearly five years. Well... she drinks and smokes, but we all have to have a vice right? She still travels. She still fights and is better at it without the haze of high. She makes friends wherever she goes, being the jovial sort of person she is. A fake face full of smiles. No one questions a smile... right?
But she has admitted to herself it is a lonely existence. She hated being alone. There was too much time to think and remember the awful parts. A farse of a smile and company kept her safe. Being alone meant battling demons. Things were getting harder to deal with. She attempted suicide once but was caught by the girlfriend she was staying with before it all could end. She has spent two years of her life in a psych ward and is now ready to face the world again. Bobbi has learned coping mechanisms, takes medication and is working toward a better life. She wants to see the world happy and she wants happiness for herself. She even got her teeth professionally cleaned and fixed up. But... What else is out there for her? For now, she has resumed her life of travel. It is what she knows best. She had never been the sort to put down roots. She hopes that in her travels she will find a place she can call home.
Despite her mother's addiction and lack of care for the world, she behaved lovingly toward Bobbi. They would lay down on the couch together and watch a movie. Mama would stroke her hair. More often than not she fell asleep and Bobbi would be alone, cuddled in her mother's arms. Very rarely they had outings to the park. Bobbi got to play. Mama got to stock up. Most of her meals were microwavable and Bobbi learned how to do this for herself and her mother. Once her mother tucked her into bed and sang a sweet southern lullaby to her. That was probably the highlight of her childhood.
When she was about five, her Mamma got a boyfriend. Paul. They moved into his lovely and immaculate house. Paul kept the house clean, he had an amazing corporate job which paid good money. Harriet didn't have to sell it on the corner anymore, though she still struggled with addiction. Paul's predilection, however, was for Bobbi. And generally girls Bobbi's age. She never had friends over. She wanted to, of course, but she didn't want anything to happen to those girls. As time went on she began to lose those friends and became rather quiet and reclusive. Perhaps twice a week he started those nightly visits after Harriet would relax with a needle in her arm. Eventually, Harriet didn't need to be drugged. Maybe she went to bed. Maybe she was watching a movie. Or she went out for 'girl's night'.
And then there were all of the presents. Toys, dolls, and jewelry. The one she adored most looked like a little cage with a softly glowing white bird inside. And for years this weird sort of symbiosis between Mama and Paul continued. Bobbi let it be, what else could she do? He threatened her if she ever told her mother. Bad things would happen to her or happen to Mama. She knew nothing else really and she had to admit it was nice to not have to wade through piles of chip bags, condoms, and pill bottles. Never knowing if something was piss or puke soaked. A small silver lining, she supposed.
When Bobbi was 10 Paul broke up with Mama. She and Mama moved out. Mama was mad. At Bobbi? At the world? Who knew. Bobbi didn't quite understand it. She had been a good girl and done all the things he had asked. And yet, he had abandoned them. She felt so alone. A mother she was alienated from and a secret she had to keep from the rest of her life weighed heavily on the girl.
Mama had gotten used to a clean house, nice clothes, and a constant/reliable source of drugs. And so it was up to Bobbi to keep it so. Almost military, really. Tuck in sheets, clean corners with toothbrushes... Run down to the corner and get some Xanax from some guy named Mark. Mama had begun to expect a lot from her daughter and laid hands on her when it didn't meet her newly upgraded expectations. She was growing more and more resentful of the woman who was supposed to love her. Who now rarely showed her affection. Her grades were bad, she was often in detention, and was referred to as 'a troubled child.'
It is about here we come to Bobbi's teenage years. She falls in with the "wrong" crowd. She discovers the boons of drugs and booze. 13 and she had a connection for anything she wanted. It was around this time that Paul had come back into their lives. He'd had a daughter you see. Julia. And Julia needed a mother. He apologized and wept. He spoke of his constant regret for leaving them. He promised to make everything better. Everything right. Bobbi wanted to roll her eyes. Maybe kick him in the nards. Could Mama be so stupid? As it turned out, yes. After a few weeks of courting, Mama accepted Paul again. Bobbi moved back into that grand house with so many loathsome memories.
As it would turn out, unbeknownst to Bobbi, she had grown much too old for him and no nightly visits happened. In a way, it was a relief for her. She didn't have to go to bed wondering if Paul would make a visit. However, after a few nights at the house, it became quite apparent why. Julia's room was right next to her own. She could hear it. She knew he was getting everything he wanted from Julia. She saw the signs, the presents, and everything made her sick. It made her feel so useless and she felt as if nothing mattered any longer. She couldn't save herself from such a monster. How was she supposed to save Julia? Bobbi felt so much guilt for not being able to stand up to the man. Paul had all of the power here and often made sure she knew. Little whispers, a snide comment at the dinner table which would have both girls picking at their meals. Mama never seemed to notice or care.
Bobbi started hanging around this 30-year-old guy, Happy. Happy liked to pamper her, keep her drugged up, and just take pictures. Bobbi didn't mind so much. He made her feel pretty and worthwhile. Made her feel like she was special. Slowly then came the prostitution. She relished it, the power she had over men, the looks on their faces. She could be the one in control. She could be the one on top. It thrilled her. In return she got drugs and Happy got paid. Bobbi did this for about six months before Happy disappeared.
When she no longer had this source of sex and drugs, she returned to a life with Paul and Harriet. She was home more often. She could see the defeated and drawn look in Julia's face. A mirror of her own once upon a day. Something boiled in her stomach but she felt she had no power to change a single thing. She hated herself more for it. Bobbi took to breaking small things in the home. A vase. A coaster. A figurine. For the most part, she behaved otherwise and got clean, got her drivers license and loved the freedom of it. It made it easy to stay away and to ignore what was happening in her household. She would hang out in garages, go to illegal rallies, and dated men much too old for her. But they had cars, they knew about cars, taught her mechanics, and best of all... they had drugs. At this time she mostly indulged in booze and marijuana. Though she did occasionally do things a bit harder.
16 - two years later, that was when the worst thing in the world she could do finally happened. High on some sort of meth mixture that she had been unknowingly dosed with, she came home. She walked down the hall full of regret and self-hatred, staggering and knocking a picture off the wall. There was a muffled cry. A shushing sound. And a rage formed in her belly she couldn't describe. She kicked the door of Julia's room in and it flew from the hinges. She reached out a hand and grabbed onto something. Something wooden. Upon looking she found that most of her arm had disappeared into a ring of soft white light that was just large enough for her arm to get through. Bobbi pulled and out came a sledgehammer. Its head was shiny black and it sparkled like stars. The deep red-brown of the wood was carved with symbols she could not read. None of the mattered now though.
She turned on Paul and gave him the beating of a lifetime. Bobbi didn't know if she killed him or not. In her drugged haze she looked at Julia. The girl was terrified and in the corner, sheets pulled up over her nose. "You have blood on your cheek," Julia said. Bobbi reached a hand up and smeared it away. There was a lot of blood. Everywhere. The hammer had disappeared. When she turned around her mother was there, glaring at her. "Get. the fuck. out. of. my. house... now."
And so she did. Just walked out. She estimated she spent three days without remembering what happened after that. She awoke on a bench by a river, dirty, smelly, and starving three cities away from where she had once lived. What she had done during this time was a mystery to her. Bobbi had only a small idea of how to live a life without having to rely on others. She grew up independent of things like family and love. So she did everything she had to. After meeting up with some of her car friends and explaining what happened, she learned about an underground fighting ring. Specifically for Metahumans. Betting was common there. People liked to watch the Deltas duke it out. And so she fought under the name Professor Bad-Ass. Oh, how she fought. Each blow was like hitting her mother back. Like hitting Paul again. She felt like she had actual power over her life now. At first, she lost and lost a lot. With time she got better. She drove and worked and did everything she could to survive. Bobbi never finished high school.
At 17 she met Gray. Gray was gentle, sweet, and loving. She was ashamed to admit, but she could not help herself. She often cheated. He deserved so much better than her, but he always stayed. Always forgave. He was the one to help her gain mastery of pinball. It was sort of an obsession for him. Gray also enjoyed heroin, and she joined him. Why not? What else really mattered? It felt good. She felt good for once in her stained life.
Here she fell deeper into a world filled with drugs and crime. Occasionally she indulged, marijuana and cocaine perhaps. Heroin had become her true vice. And with her outgoing and charming personality met a grand amount of crazy characters. She lived a passionate life with a man who loved and adored her. But she was fucking scum.
After two months of this constant drug binge, Bobbi began to see the way the money never seemed to stick around. They were about to be evicted. She did what she could to get him off of heroin. She tried to get herself off of it, but it just felt so good. A release from all of the pain the world had given her. Gray overdosed six months into their relationship and she used what little money he left her and sold all of his possessions to buy a motorbike and travel. She couldn't stand the feeling of being tied down any longer. She couldn't stand to look at anything to do with Gray. Her first real chance at love. She has not touched a pinball machine since. However, any chance she had at indulging in heroin was taken up without protest.
Travel she did. She followed bands, joined the rainbow road for maybe half a year. When she fought she discovered two new weapons - Major Medical Bills and Sheriff Nap-Time. Her life was one of inconsistency and chaos. Nothing seemed to matter. She hoped she would die in one of those fights.
She wasn't sure when it happened. 18, nearly 19 now and her life had never amounted to very much. Maybe it started at the end of her rainbow road adventure, having to take a seventeen-year-old girl to the hospital because she was OD'ing. Something about this lifestyle of drugs and how she had even lasted this long... It was too much. It was time for a change. She started going to NA and has been clean of all drugs for nearly five years. Well... she drinks and smokes, but we all have to have a vice right? She still travels. She still fights and is better at it without the haze of high. She makes friends wherever she goes, being the jovial sort of person she is. A fake face full of smiles. No one questions a smile... right?
But she has admitted to herself it is a lonely existence. She hated being alone. There was too much time to think and remember the awful parts. A farse of a smile and company kept her safe. Being alone meant battling demons. Things were getting harder to deal with. She attempted suicide once but was caught by the girlfriend she was staying with before it all could end. She has spent two years of her life in a psych ward and is now ready to face the world again. Bobbi has learned coping mechanisms, takes medication and is working toward a better life. She wants to see the world happy and she wants happiness for herself. She even got her teeth professionally cleaned and fixed up. But... What else is out there for her? For now, she has resumed her life of travel. It is what she knows best. She had never been the sort to put down roots. She hopes that in her travels she will find a place she can call home.
▼ | POWER CLASSIFICATION : |
Type-White
▼ | POWER DESCRIPTION : |
⫸The Vault - This is an extra-dimensional backpack designed by an ancient, metahuman family member. It was originally designed to store things the family might need in times of hardship. With generations of family having access to The Vault it has gained some interesting items and weaponry. Having a specific genetic code gained from her father allows her access to this Vault after her connection with the white crystal. She can reach through a dimensional rift and pull through whatever it is she is looking for, depending on what is available there. Reaching through is odd and tingly and often leaves strange dust over her arm. It does not seem to be harmful though and disappears within minutes. The larger the item the more she has to concentrate on retrieving it.
There are a few weapons which she can call "easily" and have an odd, otherworldly appearance to them. They are all named by Bobbi.
A part of her symbiosis with The Vault is that she may draw strength from it when needed. This is perhaps her most consistent connection with the extra-dimensional backpack. She can control how much she takes from it as needed.
There are a few weapons which she can call "easily" and have an odd, otherworldly appearance to them. They are all named by Bobbi.
Captain K.O. - An average sized sledgehammer. The top, hammer part appears to be made out of some sort of solid stone with glittery white speckles inside of it. The handle is made of a red-brown, rusty colored wood. White symbols or runes are etched into it in a language she doesn't understand. Her most trustworthy of weapons.
-Major Medical Bills - A claymore made from the same sort of sparkling black stone as K.O. The handle is pure white silver and wrapped with a rusty colored leather. Similar runes of glowing white appear on the sword near its hilt. This is her most inconsistent and hardest weapon to pull through.
-Sheriff Nap-Time - This is a buckler shield which, at most, covers her torso. It is lined with the silver metal and the outside of the sparkling black stone. This is attached to the red-brown wood and the handles made from the rusty leather. The white runes appear on the inside.
-Major Medical Bills - A claymore made from the same sort of sparkling black stone as K.O. The handle is pure white silver and wrapped with a rusty colored leather. Similar runes of glowing white appear on the sword near its hilt. This is her most inconsistent and hardest weapon to pull through.
-Sheriff Nap-Time - This is a buckler shield which, at most, covers her torso. It is lined with the silver metal and the outside of the sparkling black stone. This is attached to the red-brown wood and the handles made from the rusty leather. The white runes appear on the inside.
A part of her symbiosis with The Vault is that she may draw strength from it when needed. This is perhaps her most consistent connection with the extra-dimensional backpack. She can control how much she takes from it as needed.
▼ | LIMITS : |
⫸The Vault - The things called from within the Vault only last about 10 hours, average. Larger items last less time and smaller items more. The longest she had something in existence was 24 hours and this was just a small, plain pebble. Reaching through is typically a non-painful experience. But larger items tend to put a strain on her not only physically but mentally as well.
Not just anything can be pulled from The Vault, it is filled with all sorts of artifacts, weaponry, and assorted items. She may look for a thing but it might not be there. She can put her hand into the Void but if the thing she wants doesn't exist it will be a completely random object that she pulls out. She then has to be creative with its use and how it can help her situation.
In regards to the special weapons, she can call from within The Vault, they only last a certain amount of time as well. She has never had one stay longer than eight hours and they can only be called a certain number of times before they stop coming. She has yet to figure out that limit as it seems to constantly change.
The strength she draws from The Vault is not limitless and if she draws too much it can leave her immediately tired and sore. Or, even flat out, unable to move. It does take its toll on her muscles and frame. She can wield more strength now than she could before. Like lifting weights, the more she practices the better she becomes with it. Her top, in a deadlift, is 400lbs. This is rather taxing though and any attempt to maintain can leave her down and out.
Not just anything can be pulled from The Vault, it is filled with all sorts of artifacts, weaponry, and assorted items. She may look for a thing but it might not be there. She can put her hand into the Void but if the thing she wants doesn't exist it will be a completely random object that she pulls out. She then has to be creative with its use and how it can help her situation.
In regards to the special weapons, she can call from within The Vault, they only last a certain amount of time as well. She has never had one stay longer than eight hours and they can only be called a certain number of times before they stop coming. She has yet to figure out that limit as it seems to constantly change.
The strength she draws from The Vault is not limitless and if she draws too much it can leave her immediately tired and sore. Or, even flat out, unable to move. It does take its toll on her muscles and frame. She can wield more strength now than she could before. Like lifting weights, the more she practices the better she becomes with it. Her top, in a deadlift, is 400lbs. This is rather taxing though and any attempt to maintain can leave her down and out.
▼ | WEAKNESSES : |
⫸The Vault - Well... you see... She may call something but it doesn't always work correctly. Want a baseball cap? She might end up with a wicker hat. Looking for nails? You could end up with a train spike. It isn't exactly reliable and you never truly know what is coming out of the Void. It is, in fact, extremely unreliable. She cannot pull through long-range weaponry due to her relationship with the Vault being completely melee/physical. She also cannot pull through anything larger than a fridge.
The Vault takes a great toll on her body, hence the slenderness. She has to eat a ton of food high in calories. Everything she consumes is sucked away by The Void. The strength she draws from The Vault also consumes calories and energy. Not enough can eventually leave her weaker than when she started. This is obviously not good for her health, to begin with. There are things like cholesterol and blocked arteries to worry about. But not having enough for The Vault to consume will leave her weak and tired. Using it too much or fighting too hard can leave her down for the count. She will sleep for days and there is the danger of not consuming food killing her as The Vault eats away at her existence.
With her small stature, she simply doesn't have the weight and density to pull some of the larger things from The Vault or with consistency. If she were larger, maybe she could do more. The Vault also relies on unity with other people. In its design it was meant to take care of others. Not having that energy is part of what makes it glitchy. The functioning of The Vault has much to do with her physical body and powering this "Extra Dimensional Backpack." If she cannot feed The Vault it will consume her entirely.
The weapons she can call tend to be extremely... fickle. They can disappear at the most inopportune times or even not come at all when called. Instead of K.O. she might end up with your regular ol' hammer. Want Major Medical Bills? Here's a butter knife. Or one of the other weapons might appear. While these weapons, those with affinity, are the easiest for her to get and cost her the least amount of energy they can be right coy little bitches. Guns - even muskets, grenades, and other mechanical, modern sorts of weaponry or high tech gear are impossible. Mostly because they don't exist within the Vault. What she can pull through is sometimes so old that the chances of it breaking are fairly common.
The Vault takes a great toll on her body, hence the slenderness. She has to eat a ton of food high in calories. Everything she consumes is sucked away by The Void. The strength she draws from The Vault also consumes calories and energy. Not enough can eventually leave her weaker than when she started. This is obviously not good for her health, to begin with. There are things like cholesterol and blocked arteries to worry about. But not having enough for The Vault to consume will leave her weak and tired. Using it too much or fighting too hard can leave her down for the count. She will sleep for days and there is the danger of not consuming food killing her as The Vault eats away at her existence.
With her small stature, she simply doesn't have the weight and density to pull some of the larger things from The Vault or with consistency. If she were larger, maybe she could do more. The Vault also relies on unity with other people. In its design it was meant to take care of others. Not having that energy is part of what makes it glitchy. The functioning of The Vault has much to do with her physical body and powering this "Extra Dimensional Backpack." If she cannot feed The Vault it will consume her entirely.
The weapons she can call tend to be extremely... fickle. They can disappear at the most inopportune times or even not come at all when called. Instead of K.O. she might end up with your regular ol' hammer. Want Major Medical Bills? Here's a butter knife. Or one of the other weapons might appear. While these weapons, those with affinity, are the easiest for her to get and cost her the least amount of energy they can be right coy little bitches. Guns - even muskets, grenades, and other mechanical, modern sorts of weaponry or high tech gear are impossible. Mostly because they don't exist within the Vault. What she can pull through is sometimes so old that the chances of it breaking are fairly common.
⫸ O T H E R ⫷
"Mama, just killed a man. Knocked his brains out of his head, swung my hammer, now he's dead."
Currently, Mama Harriet has gotten off the drugs. She works with the Savior Foundation with her fingers deep in Pure. Paul is also not dead, but he is in a vegetative state. He was originally a part of this foundation until Bobbi turned him into a mashed potato. He helps make the case for the need to 'heal' these Metahumans from their disease. Obviously, they cannot be trusted and do more harm than good. The Delta who caused Paul's state it has remained a mystery. And where is Julia?
Author's Notes: The Void or Vault is a family heirloom left through her father's genetics. He, nor much of his family, have ever had access to the vault. It was quite a few years ago, a millennium really since someone last had access. Some family had the ability to add things, some to give it the power/strength generator, and some to pull things out. Each family member, of course, had a different way they interacted and worked with this vault. Speculation assumes the first of the family created this dimensional vault that those with the right genetics could access in multiple ways. The irony of her "false father" giving her a pendant with a crystal inside of it has granted her the genetic access to this place. It has been many a generation before a Delta in her family has appeared. Until now.
I also hope to have her join FAMA. I think it would be a good way for her to come back to the real world. I also have intentions of her being a silly, comedic relief sort of character. I know her back story doesn't show that as much. But her personality and how she handles the now will prove that her past is a thing of the past.... for the most part.
Author's Notes: The Void or Vault is a family heirloom left through her father's genetics. He, nor much of his family, have ever had access to the vault. It was quite a few years ago, a millennium really since someone last had access. Some family had the ability to add things, some to give it the power/strength generator, and some to pull things out. Each family member, of course, had a different way they interacted and worked with this vault. Speculation assumes the first of the family created this dimensional vault that those with the right genetics could access in multiple ways. The irony of her "false father" giving her a pendant with a crystal inside of it has granted her the genetic access to this place. It has been many a generation before a Delta in her family has appeared. Until now.
I also hope to have her join FAMA. I think it would be a good way for her to come back to the real world. I also have intentions of her being a silly, comedic relief sort of character. I know her back story doesn't show that as much. But her personality and how she handles the now will prove that her past is a thing of the past.... for the most part.
| Character name | Opinion |
|---|---|
| Henry Olin | "I mean, I dunno 'im, but how cool is it dat he don' hide 'imself?" |
| John Doyle | "Vieux be rockin' dat cowboy look like a boss." |
| Drake Blackmore | "Cute, for a police officah. A gal does like a man in uniform d'ough'" |
| n/a | n/a |
