LONDON MCCARTNEY } FINISHED

[Captain October]

Name: London Emily McCartney
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Position: Student
Gift: Telepathy
Gift Specification:

London's clairvoyance, telepathy, is hardwired to her brain, it seems. More than once, her thoughts end up in other people's minds, and then she hears them in her own mind. When she isn't tuned in to one person's thoughts, everything that goes through other people's head is a deafening hodgepodge of words. In order to hear only one person's thoughts, she has too be staring at their head, but to hear it clearest is to stare through their eyes. Why, she doesn't know.

Awareness: Unaware
Personality:

London is considered quiet, anti-social. Weird. Off.

Insane.

The most common place you can find London is off to the side, talking to no one, clamping her hands over her ears. Many perceive this as insanity, and tend to stay away from her. This is what fashioned her introversion, her likeliness to keep to herself. Since she never really had the chance to socialize with other people, London is horribly awkward in social situations. She stutters, tangles her hands together, and hides her face beneath her hair, as if she’s trying to disappear. If you asked anyone to describe London, the most common words you would receive are “weird,” “very weird,” and most of all, “really, really weird.”

Inside, London has a wall of pent up emotion, from pain to confusion to flat out hatred. This causes tons of problems with her, ranging from hurting herself to breaking down and crying for hours on end. If anyone pokes fun at her, she’s quick to retaliate, either mentally or physically.

But beneath her odd, stony exterior, is a want to fit in, to find a friend, someone to talk to. Being isolated all her life has taken its toll on her, and no matter how desperately she wants to speak out, talk to someone, she can’t bring herself to do it.

Appearance:

When your eyes rest on London, you notice immediately that she is strikingly attractive with a smooth, patently feminine silhouette, disturbed by only the slightest of curves. She stands at an unusual 5’11”, towering over most women she meets. Much to her disdain, London’s nearly flawless skin is unusually pale, only a peachy undertone on her cheekbones and nose that hints that she is in fact still alive.

London’s hair is a feathery, naturally snowy white-blonde and ramrod straight, tinted with the slightest hints of a darker, rich, honey blonde, giving a gilded understatement when the sun touches it. It’s practically honest to say that she’s close to never put her hair up in her life, preferably keeping it down, in its natural state.

Her features are deftly drawn on her face, with a small, petite nose, large eyes, and a simple mouth. London’s lips are organically a vivid, intense red, so she doesn’t bother to apply lipstick, or any other makeup, for that matter (and not that their supplied with any, either). Her eyes are a beautiful, rich peridot, flecked with lighter and darker shades. Her eyes are framed by a layer of thick lashes, dark and long.

London is an assortment of nationalities. Her mother is from the Czech Republic, her voice thick with a Czechoslovakian accent. Her father is Hungarian and Italian, his mother being Hungarian and his father Italian. London was born in Prague, though, and speaks with a distinct accent.

From a scale of 1 - 10, London's strictness to the dress code would be a -2. Legs should be hidden at all times? She'll be sure to turn her pants into shorts. Must wear shoes? She'll try her hardest to let everyone know she's barefoot.

On weekends, though, her sense of style is vintage chic. Everything has to make her look like the fashionista that she is. If she's getting dressed in a hurry, though, she often puts on her navy trench coat, a white t-shirt, skinny jeans, and her knee-length leather boots.

History:

London was born in Prague, in the Czech Republic, where she lived with her single mother, Anya. Her father had ditched her family when she was roughly about three, so she had never met him. But sometimes she caught her mother alone, in her room, shrieking and crying and repeating his name over and over again.

It was quickly though, she discovered her inept ability to be a normal little girl. The second she would hit her school’s campus, the roar of voices would take over her brain, causing fierce, constant headaches that refused to go away. Every day, she would come home to her mother, crying profusely and complaining of the voices. “Please, mommy, make them go away!”

London’s mother became frightened of her daughter. Voices? She couldn’t stand to be near her, every day locking her out of the house and making her sleep outside, like a hobo. Finally, her mother sent her to Hewick’s School and Dormitory for the Clinically Insane. She was coldly handed a uniform, a schedule, and escorted to her dormitory, if that’s what you’d like to call it. It was more like a freezing, metal cell with a stained mattress and a roughly cut hole in the wall to shove food through. She was only six.

If her mother thought sending her here would help any, she was dead wrong. The voices insisted on staying in her mind, always there, roaring, shouting, driving her insane…

She stayed there for seven years before a large group of the older kids were handed train tickets, with no explanation on what was going on. They were smart enough not to ask. A day later they were loaded onto a train and then left abandoned for several hours. But then, at last, the train groaned to a halt. And soon the kids new where they were going: Hollowcove Institution for the Clinically Insane Youth.

[Sucky, I know xD]

RP Example:

The train groaned, shuddering, as its rusty, ancient wheels awoke from their extensive slumber and lazily started to roll. It's yawn came out in the form of a long, ear-splitting scream as it picked up speed, its wheels churning and rolling over the rust-colored tracks. A tall, pretty figure sat glued to the peeling wall, megabytes of dust collecting on its earthy brown layer of paint. Her bright green eyes were wired to the window, watching the blurry landscapes go by. Not that there was much to see - flat, brown fields of untouched dirt.

Though the train car was absolutely silent, the girl could hear many voices.

Where are we going? I'm scared. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why aren't I normal? Why is no one speaking? Who am I really? Will I make any friends?

She moaned and clamped her hands over her ears, her long, dirty nails digging into her skin. “Be quiet!” she whispered, curling into a small ball on the seat, head lolling in between her knees. The girl next to her cast her a strange look before scooting even farther away from her, eyebrows knitting together.

The girl could feel her gentle, fluttering heartbeat quickly increase as an electric pulse throbbed through her head, warning her of an extreme, excruciating headache on the horizon.

“No, no, no,” she whispered faintly, squeezing her eyes closed. “Please, please, no…” A ripple of pain caused her to scream, and she clenched her teeth together, shaking. Blood dribbled out of the corner of her mouth, and she slid to the floor, blankly staring at the ceiling.

Make it go away.

Image URL: click
Relationships:

n/a

Other:

[Avalynn]

Accepted Great job.