MissCapnCrunch — Roleplayer Guild

"Does it truly make a difference how you are alive my child? You are alive now, isn't that enough?"

➞ Age: 18

➞ Gender: Female

➞ Race: Human/Cyborg

➞ Magical Powers: Charlize has found use in elemental magic for refueling. With the price of gasoline these days, she really needed to find an alternative to buying it straight from the stations. She is still learning, and often fails in the practice, but her determination is high! She mostly sticks to flowers, grasses, and trees, but learning about the other elements for energy seems to peek her interest. Maybe not so much water, as it might cause some serious hardware damage.

➞ Equipment: Well, she is part robot, so her own body is a piece of personal equipment. Titanium structure for the most part, some used car parts here and there, a melted down children's swing set too! She has mostly her human look to her, though her white hair (due to pigment discoloration- used to be black.) seemed to be a dead give away to something not being quite right. Her eyes often blink out of the normal slate grey to a pure white canvas.

➞ Weakness: Limited energy at times can cause a bit of a problem as she often has to pay serious attention to her energy levels or her system could shutdown. She also has been having system malfunctions lately, so sometimes her memories get a little mixed up. Don't mind her she means no harm!

➞ Personality: Fun Loving. Adventurous. Silly. Independent. Hopeless Romantic. Restless.

➞ History: Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick..Tick...

The sound of the upstairs kitchen clock had drove the man completely insane. He had murdered his daughter in a fit of rage, gave her a warning shot straight into her chest. "Charlize?" the man whimpered, leaning over his only daughter. She wasn't breathing, her tone was disappearing, her skin becoming ice. "Charli, Charli speak to me." The man became angered, blaming her for sneaking into the house, and for sneaking out of the house in the first place. Why would she have done that? She knew it was wrong, she knew it was not the right type of thing to do in the neighborhood they lived in. Why?

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock kept on.

The man ripped the clock off the wall, as it continued to tick in his hands. "I must save her!" he sobbed, putting the clock underneath his arm as he approached his daughter's limp body. He took her by the arm and dragged her. Her blood soaked the wooden floors in a deep crimson line. The man pulled and dragged, sobbing. He let her body hit every basement step as he pulled her down into his workshop, the area where he fixed junk items, and found refuge when his wife had left him 10 years ago. He leaned down and hoisted her body up onto the table with all his might, his tears and harsh words filling the dim room, and the next door neighbor's bedroom.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock kept on.

"Damn you, you son of bitch!" the man yelled at the clock, throwing it across the room into a pile of his hoarded trash. He ran over to his tool shelf, grabbing saws, drills and parts alike. He was insane. He was desperate. He was a genius. An hour went by at the very least as he worked and worked with his daughter, his only child. Her body made up of machine parts, but her face remained the same, her slate grey eyes stared back at him as he worked. "God damn you Charlize!" he screamed, why did she keep staring at him? The neighbors became more curious, and called the police. "I think Charles Cousineau is drinking again." they said, and the dispatcher knew. They had been there many times before. Eventually police swarmed the house. Arresting Charles for the murder of his daughter. The smell of whiskey on his lips. The smell of fear on his heart. "What kind of sick bastard would do this?" the chief asked, in the living room of the Cousineau house. The silence was the answer. No one knew.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock kept on.

Charlize could hear the clock in the corner of the room. Her eyes opened as the pain swept over her body. "Help" her voice rasped out, barely a whisper. "Help me." she called. The sound of the clock overpowering her voice, even though it was just a small sound. Charli stared at the ceiling in the dim basement, "Was this what death felt like?" she had no clue. Her body parts felt heavy, her memories hazy and incomplete. She found enough strength to knock a tool off the table. It was enough to alert the police upstairs, and before she knew it she was being rushed to the hospital. She didn't last long in the hospital before she was taken away by a man under the influence of Phillip Rifna, a man who was quite interested in Charli's certain situation. She belonged to him now, away from normal humans, away from the past she knew. In time she began to learn elemental magic, not very well, but she was learning.

It wasn't long before Phillip decided it was best Charlize was sent off to The Academy. He knew it was the best bet for the girl to survive, his basic knowledge of fueling and robotics were keeping the girl alive, but she wasn't thriving. She needed to learn how to fend for herself, she needed to learn how to communicate with people that were like her. She needed to be there, and so she went.

➞ Classes:
Math
English
Magical History
Science
Meditation
Basic Spells
Potions
Art

MissCapnCrunch Member

Pᴏʟɪᴛᴇ & Pᴇᴄᴜʟɪᴀʀ
Pɪʀᴀᴛᴇ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts

MissCapnCrunch Member

Pᴏʟɪᴛᴇ & Pᴇᴄᴜʟɪᴀʀ Pɪʀᴀᴛᴇ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts

Pᴏʟɪᴛᴇ & Pᴇᴄᴜʟɪᴀʀ
Pɪʀᴀᴛᴇ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss