Post by harper thorne on May 20, 2008 5:24:53 GMT
when our time is up,
when our lives are done.
[/color][/font]when our lives are done.
Harper Todd Thorne ,
intelligent. harsh. spastic. clever. confident. [/color][/font][/center]
will we say we've had our fun..?
nom •• Harper Todd Thorne.
nicknames •• Todd. Heartburn.
gender •• female.
age •• sixteen, august twenty-third.
occupation •• waiter.
nationality •• americana.
ability •• electrical manipulation/technopathy.
level •• class three.
codename •• Nova.
got cured •• no.
member group •• x student.[/color][/font]
will we make our mark this time,
we will always say we tried..?
[/color][/font][/center]we will always say we tried..?
height •• 5'7
weight ••podgy.
eye colour •• blue.
hair colour •• honey blonde [natural]
anything else? •• nope.
play-by •• becky lou filip[/color][/font]
standing on the roof tops,
wait until the bomb drops.
[/color][/font][/center]wait until the bomb drops.
likes •• sushi. flowers. baths. hair cuts. yellow. shakespeare. musical theatre.
dislikes •• shots. bees. water. alcoholic men. brats.
strengths •• mental strength, fierce fighter, run uber long, giant vocabulary, muscles.
weaknesses •• water, mind games, people more muscley than she, neon signs, brass.
fears •• water. father. being crippled.
hopes •• to see Trevan grow strong.
habits •• nail biting. shocking people. shoulder biting. singing randomly. being awesome.
general •• Harper has been conditioned by her surroundings, into a strong young woman. She's intelligent, so she knows when to be amicable and when to be harsh. She's taken care of her brothers, all the while reading Shakespeare or singing musicals. A generally approachable being, she can have fun, sometimes too much. Though, when someone needs help or is in trouble, she's rather grounded. Sometimes, she needs her little brother to keep her in check.
[/color][/font]
this is all we've got now,
scream until your heart stops.
[/color][/font][/center]scream until your heart stops.
parents •• Teagon and Rosemary.
siblings •• Trevan [m, 9] Otter [m, 11] Grady [m, 15]
hometown •• Greeneville, Indiana.
other relatives of interest •• none.
history •• Her parents were on vacation when she was born. Normandy, a lightning storm raged outside a small cottage where a nurse bustlde around the bedside of a woman in labor. Her husband stood at her side, holding her hand as she gave birth to their first child. A girl.
As she grew, she watched her father come home in terrible rages, or incredibly sick. His voice raised shrill and hurt her ears. She would clamp her hands over her ears and hide under the couch. Sometimes, her dad would lift it up with one hand and smile at her, helping her up and shushing her fears.
During this time, they were talking about a 'cure'. She wondered if her dad had cancer. Harper had a friend in school whose mom died of skin cancer. Maybe it was the same thing. What ever it was, it was 'failing'. 'Complicated'. Harper didn't want to ask questions.
When she was eight, she was wrestling with Grady on the floor or their farm house in Greeneville. The cows had been released to the orchard an hour before, and their father stumbled in, smelling of ale. He sat behind the counter and smoked a cigarette, watching the two tussle. In the midst of it, Grady's hand flew up and caught her chin. Stumbling away, she cried out, and at the same time a flash of light sent Grady crashing backward into the sofa. Stunned, they both fell silent as their father rounded on Harper.
"What was that!?" He shouted in her face, stinking of smoke and alcohol. He lifted her by her shoulders, outraged. "How did you do that you freak!?" Her shook her by the shoulders as she cried out in pain. A wave of electricity racked her bones and her dropped her with a yelp. "You are not ever allowed to do that in my home. Ever."
He slammed the door, rubbing his burnt hands.
Grady and Harper stared.
A month later, Rosemary died giving birth to Treven Nigel Thorne.
It was too much for their father.
He took to drinking with friends every night, then alone. Sometimes Harper couldn't help but shock people when full of energy, or excited. There was no way to control it. It was like an itch that wouldn't go away, but if you scratched it it got even more intense.
She could change the channels on the TV without a remote.
Whenever things got to be too much for Teagon, Harper was to pay. She carried bruises and scars. Puffy eyes from crying. It was her fault, she was the one who couldn't stop fooling with the TV and outlets.
She grew, and learned to not cry.
As Treven grew, it was upon her to change his diapers and nurse him, all thing ill-befit for a man to do. They had a bond, a special bond shared more by thought than matter. One day, they took lunch in the orchard. He was six. They got into a brawl.
He said their father was perfect.
She denied it, and told him all the reasons why he was not.
His little fist sunk into her stomach, a flat hand across her face. Harper picked him up, pinning him to a tree. "You will never hit me, ever."
He detonated.
The tree was left in shambles, though a stunned Harper realized that she was no longer alone. Harper pulled him into her chest, stroking his hair. She made him promise to never tell father.
One day, their father found her stash.
A collection of old video game player parts.
"I thought I told you that you would never tinker around with that nuts, ever...!" He shouted at her, threw her to the ground. She watched her carefully dismantled project laid waste in her father's hands. "You're a freak!" Not a tear.
At least, until Treven joined the fray.
She watched him defend her, his small face growing red. Harper feared the worst. She told him to leave, but he wouldn't. He received a slap across the face from Teagon.
Teagon received an earth-shattering explosion in return.
She carried the tired little body over her shoulder, a small rucksack of their few possessions at her hip, a long walk away from the house left in ruin.
A few months later, they stumbled upon a boy who could levitate marbles. He told them about a school, a wondrous academy...
[/color][/font]
never gonna regret
watching every sunset .
[/color][/font][/center]watching every sunset .
alias •• katt.
age •• 15
how you find us? •• advert.
contact •• techno_rainne@hotmail.com
other characters •• none.
listen to your heart beat
all the love that we found.
[/center]all the love that we found.
rp sample ••
The small screen flickered. It was framed by long,dark green grass. It was the only source of light in the entire field.
For a long time now she had been breaking into the stadium, to just sit and breath cold air, or smoke a pilfered cigarette in silence. Tonight, it was for practice.
The air was warm, and the friendly, comforting buzz of the breaker-box twenty yards are was a welcomed buzz. It controlled the huge stadium light which she had shut down when climbing the fence.
Along with the alarms.
Leaning back on one palm, a cool, moist breeze played with her darkened hair. Reaching up, she toyed with it, examining the color. Dark hair. It was new, but not bad. In her ears, her iPod flicked to a new song.
Oh-bluhh-dee.
Oh-bluhh-diee.
Harper smiled.
Life goes on, yeah.
A shrill alarm rang out in the darkness, the giant lights flashing on and blinding her. There she went, letting her powers off on their own accord.
Or maybe it wasn't accident.
La, la, la, la, life goes on.
Her worn converse left tiny dents in the grass as she scooped up her iPod and ran to the fence. As the sirens echoed in the chill air, Harper vaulted the fence and was down the street, spring in her step. Crackle in the snap.
Or some awesome metaphor like that.
For a long time now she had been breaking into the stadium, to just sit and breath cold air, or smoke a pilfered cigarette in silence. Tonight, it was for practice.
The air was warm, and the friendly, comforting buzz of the breaker-box twenty yards are was a welcomed buzz. It controlled the huge stadium light which she had shut down when climbing the fence.
Along with the alarms.
Leaning back on one palm, a cool, moist breeze played with her darkened hair. Reaching up, she toyed with it, examining the color. Dark hair. It was new, but not bad. In her ears, her iPod flicked to a new song.
Oh-bluhh-dee.
Oh-bluhh-diee.
Harper smiled.
Life goes on, yeah.
A shrill alarm rang out in the darkness, the giant lights flashing on and blinding her. There she went, letting her powers off on their own accord.
Or maybe it wasn't accident.
La, la, la, la, life goes on.
Her worn converse left tiny dents in the grass as she scooped up her iPod and ran to the fence. As the sirens echoed in the chill air, Harper vaulted the fence and was down the street, spring in her step. Crackle in the snap.
Or some awesome metaphor like that.
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