Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2017 21:26:06 GMT
winnie lin
female | seventeen | bisexual | third year |
GRAVITY MANIPULATION | HYPNOPATHY |
POWER DESCRIPTIONS
gravity manipulation - winnie has the ability to manipulate and create gravitons, allowing her to control gravity, breaking the proportion between the mass of an object and the gravity of an object. however, her control over her ability is close to none-she has no way of summoning her ability when calm, and it only surfaces when she is extremely agitated. she has no control over who it affects (including herself), and winnie tends to hide this power if possible, due to her lack of mastery. her ability will only hold for around ten minutes to half an hour-any longer will immediately result in her losing consciousness and therefore it ending.
hypnopathy - winnie has the ability to hypnotize others despite the strength of their willpower. her control over this ability is much higher than her control over her gravity manipulation-and the results can last for roughly an hour. however, in order to trigger her ability, winnie needs sustained skin-to-skin contact and eye contact, lasting for about a minute. to add onto that, in order to communicate her orders, winnie must physically be in their presence. besides from carrying out the orders that winnie gives them, the recpient of the power will be virtually unaffected-only being compelled to do as she wishes, but during the time period in which they have no orders (none given or already completed), they should act as they usually would without the influence of winnie's hypnopathy.
hypnopathy - winnie has the ability to hypnotize others despite the strength of their willpower. her control over this ability is much higher than her control over her gravity manipulation-and the results can last for roughly an hour. however, in order to trigger her ability, winnie needs sustained skin-to-skin contact and eye contact, lasting for about a minute. to add onto that, in order to communicate her orders, winnie must physically be in their presence. besides from carrying out the orders that winnie gives them, the recpient of the power will be virtually unaffected-only being compelled to do as she wishes, but during the time period in which they have no orders (none given or already completed), they should act as they usually would without the influence of winnie's hypnopathy.
APPEARANCE
winnie has dark brown hair, a trait inherited from her chinese mother, though she has a lighter and richer tone, due to her opposing french heritage from her father's side. it's quite long, and actually quite thick, which makes it easily end up in knots. usually let down or tied up in a strict bun, winnie tends to shy away from complicated hairstyles and simply keeps it simple.
her eyes are a teal-blue, bordered by lashes that are darker than her hair for some inexplicable reason, and though her eyelashes are long, they're thin and wispy, prone to occasionally poking her in the eye or the like. her eyebrows are thin and expressive, and her mouth is usually pressed into a neutral smile or straight line, though she usually coats her lips in a thin layer of strawberry gloss.
she wears her uniform neatly, each piece pressed and smoothed to a military precision. she doesn't vary much in clothing style outside of her uniform, either, almost always wearing solid prints instead of any eye-catching patterns. her posture is always straight, though not uncomfortably so, and she wears glasses to read.
her eyes are a teal-blue, bordered by lashes that are darker than her hair for some inexplicable reason, and though her eyelashes are long, they're thin and wispy, prone to occasionally poking her in the eye or the like. her eyebrows are thin and expressive, and her mouth is usually pressed into a neutral smile or straight line, though she usually coats her lips in a thin layer of strawberry gloss.
she wears her uniform neatly, each piece pressed and smoothed to a military precision. she doesn't vary much in clothing style outside of her uniform, either, almost always wearing solid prints instead of any eye-catching patterns. her posture is always straight, though not uncomfortably so, and she wears glasses to read.
PERSONALITY
winnie is energetic and affectionate, a cheerful, agreeable presence at anyone's side. she's enthusiastic and involved. however, under that veneer, she's highly insecure, has low self-esteem, and is two-faced. she's flighty and moody. she's ambitious and focused, but also defensive and cowardly. winnie can also be described as fickle.
logical, perceptive, and responsible, winnie is studious as well. she has the ability to be strikingly dynamic. beside her faults lies an undeniable magnetism that draws others in. though they may not like her, there's something bright and brilliant at her very core that makes people pay attention to her and what she does.
logical, perceptive, and responsible, winnie is studious as well. she has the ability to be strikingly dynamic. beside her faults lies an undeniable magnetism that draws others in. though they may not like her, there's something bright and brilliant at her very core that makes people pay attention to her and what she does.
BIOGRAPHY
black is the color of failure.
it's not always failure that's that color, though. her mother's hair is that color though it's graying at the roots and her father's coat that he always wears home is that color, too. but black is the color of the spots on the tile at her father's small liquor store that never rub off no matter how hard he scrubs and the color of burnt incense ash at her grandmother's altar and the color of her hand after she gets a problem wrong after being called to the board.
she should clarify.
her father owns a small liquor store in the winding streets the city. the location isn't ideal and neither is the shop itself, a run-down little thing that's cluttered beyond belief, and not in the charming way that people tend to think of when they imagine old shops. in one of the sinks there's rust in the water and sometimes she swears she can hear mice. spiders spin their webs behind the shelves of liquor and bottles are covered in dust. but her father is happy and her mother smiles and maybe it's okay, after all.
she spends the first half of her life there, tucked into the back of the shop near the broken screen door that leads to the back-back of the store where there's litter and dead leaves and grime coating the ground. insects crawl and black sludge things glop but she feels safe, her father's coat wrapped around her and nearly drowning her as she watches cartoons on the small tv her dad brought from home to the store. she can hear her father joking with the customers (he always, always remembers their names, even if this is their second time here) and her mother stocks shelves as she hums old songs.
her sister is at her friend's house, working on a project. her sister is exactly four years older than her (imagine that! they're born on the same day) and they don't really talk.
it never occurs to her that they're poor, or some variant of that. she always has enough to eat and her mom always has more money for snacks (though she never buys any, which makes her pout a little internally) and she's given books and clothes and whatnot (but never toys). she starts getting a little bit older and notices that her father is never home when she is. he's always at work, work, work. labor day, veteran's day, her birthday, her mother and father's anniversary-he's never there. he comes home late at night and he's asleep when she leaves for elementary school and though she kisses him on the cheek before she leaves each night, she wonders when her father started feeling like a stranger.
he doesn't really, of course. she remembers the warm press of his work-wrinkled hands, and the low, low timbre of his voice and the soft smoke of his jacket as it still, still floods over her shoulders. he smells like cigarette smoke and the edge of his laughter sounds like the bubbles of whiskey as they fizzle out when he pours it after coming home from work. he pats her head and laughingly makes fun of her sun-tanned skin (sunscreen is weird and gloppy and cold, she protests) and pretends that she's a person of a different ethnicity.
hut...still...she doesn't see him. isn't that weird?
she starts getting pushed into classes as a kid. her mom saves and scrimps for her and her sister (bella, who's infinitely prettier than her, who is smarter and more popular and charismatic. She plays games with bella and follows her around like a lovelorn puppy and always lets bella play as she watches, watches, watches.) to go to these math classes, writing classes, whatever. winnie is apparently smart, very smart, and she excels at all of these, and in two years, she's ushered into the same class as her sister (four years older than her, four years precisely!) and beams at her sister as they sit side-by-side.
her mother finds out about a special program. it lets students take an assessment at a community college and if they pass, they are qualified to take certain undergrad college classes. winnie doesn't really want to take it but her mother urges her to and talks about her dad and how he works so hard and maybe if she works hard too, she'll get a scholarship and her dad won't have to come home with angry lines near his mouth because there were drunk customers or crazy ones or ones that threatened him with violence and winnie gives.
(she always will.)
she passes the assessment, and starts her math class the next month at the college.
her friends, of course, are appropriately envious and playful at once. right, her friends. they're a giggly bunch, quiet and sort of studious at the same time, and not extremely athletic but not extremely out of shape. they love talking about books-has she talked about how much she loves reading yet? she devours books like a monster-and some of them talk jokingly about boys and they all care about each other. she's on the quieter side but everyone smiles at her and they trade food at lunch. they tease her and call her a bookworm and a nerd though that's all they really are and they talk about tv shows.
but...they don't really talk to her, that much. she starts to talk a lot of times and they breeze right over her, not paying attention to what she has to say. she turns more and more quiet because of that, locked inside of a shell, and turns her focus to her studies. but she's not motivated, any more. the numbers swim in her vision idly and it's suddenly hard and boring and she doesn't really like it anymore. she doesn't like math or social studies or science or the boring, boring essays that they have in language arts and her grades-they drop.
her mom and dad yell at her and hit her and scold her at home and while she cries and screams and throws a tantrum about it when she comes home, after it's all said and done, she's numb. her mom still forces her to go to classes, makes her listen and corrects everything in her life. she makes her join clubs and complains about winnie to her dad and tells her that she should be more like her sister, bella, who she doesn't even talk to anymore even though that they share the same bedroom and winnie honestly doesn't even care. she starts spending time-even more time-reading. at break and during lunch and whatever it is, she devours words like they'll help, somehow.
her friends don't notice her absences and her mom starts telling her to stop reading and instead to study. she doesn't listen. words become her only solace and as she stares at the ceiling on nights to come, her sister keeps on talking to her (for once) as they go to bed. it starts out teasing but then eventually her sister starts using new words that are "bad words" and winnie stops. and she learns them by heart.
her sister calls her them at first playfully as a sort of a nickname. it's so forbidden and taboo to swear and their hearts both thrill at the sound of it and so that's how it begins.
her sister, four years older than her, suddenly changes.
it's not in a way that she anticipates. but it's as if one day her teasing nicknames of "bad words" turn into real. she tells winnie she's ugly and to go die in a hole and it's still sort of playful but she says it like four times a day and that really hurts. and her mom and dad keep on comparing them to each other and her mom rags on her about her grades (an A-, a B+...her grades are not acceptable and is this how you treat your parents? you know how much i've given for you, you ungrateful daughter, not my daughter, not my daughter, not my daughter)
her friends still don't notice.
she pretends that she's the same old winnie and just uses the swear words at school, giggling and whispering with her friends every single time she mouths each one as if she hasn't said, heard, listened to each one. she listens to her dad come home at two in the morning with cigarette smoke hanging on his jacket and listens to him talk about how less and less people are frequenting the store. she listens to her mom and dad argue at night about politics and money and their daughters and wonders when everything started falling apart. her sister doesn't sleep in the same room as her anymore, either, and winnie stares at the nightlight by her bed and wonders when she started being afraid of what lurked in the dark.
her grades scritch and scratch and drop some more.
she lies to her mom. ("they'll get better, maman, i promise.") and then her dad. they believe it for a while and then they don't and she's yelled at and hit and grounded and she still doesn't care. crying feels bad because her mom and her dad don't like that for some inexplicable reason so she just stares at the ceiling in the unlocked bathroom and blinks at her hands and then...she wonders why she has so little control in her life. her mom picks out her clothes and food and tells her which friends she should keep and which ones she shouldn't and tells her to do this and that and always, always reminds her that she should listen and be an obedient child.
now.
here is the secret.
she walks outside of the library one day, turning the corner when it begins to rain. she ducks into an alley to wait it out, since she forgot her umbrella and she's pretty sure that her parents won't really care, anyways (and what will they do, if they care? show it? please). she stands there and then jolts when she realizes that there's someone right next to her. he's drunk, she can tell, still sipping out of a bottle and eyes locked right on her.
winnie doesn't show it, but she feels vulnerable.
she says nothing, remaining silent. they stand there as the rain evens out, fluctuating in terms of strength. and then his hand creeps closer on the wall and slides over skin and she freezes. she tells him to stop.
it goes on. she doesn't know how long it is, but she stares at him straight in the eye as her voice slowly raises in pitch and she tells him to stop, and then-
and then he does.
she tells him, shakily, to leave-and he does.
and she leaves, too, coming home drenched. she takes two showers but she still doesn't feel clean, and she goes over to the edge of her bed, hair carefully wrapped in a towel. she sits there and she thinks, and she thinks about nothing at all except the sensation of ten billion little ants crawling up her arms, and she doesn't mention it at all when she goes downstairs to tell her mom that she's making dinner.
her sister is mean and cruel and makes her mom mad at her any time she can because her sister feels the same way that she does. her sister wants to wear makeup and have boyfriends and have sleepovers with her friends but her mom says no and gets mad at her sister every single time bella brings up the topic of dying her hair. to make her mom not mad at herself, bella makes their mom mad at winnie, instead. and bella gets mad at winnie herself. winnie can't say anything, won't say anything back because she'll get yelled at for talking back to someone older than her and-
she sucks it up and it tastes bitter.
she starts being pushier at school. Somewhere along the line, she's become the "smart one" in class and everyone expects her to do all the work in group projects and the like. she pretends that she has all as (she doesn't) and pretends that she's gotten her life in order and orders people around and her friends still stay friends but she catches them whispering about her behind her back. her heart clenches. she purses her lips and turns her back.
and then she continues on.
one night she's reading a book and thinks, why am i such a bad person? and then it crashes down on her that she's a bad person and that person she pretends to be at school really isn't her. this personality she's adopted, this person she's become-it's not her. but she can't, won't push aside the facade because she doesn't know who she is without it. she doesn't want people to know that she's this person stuck into a life of gray, this girl who doesn't know where she's going and doesn't know and doesn't know and doesn't know.
...
the incident happens again. she makes them leave. it's with a different person.
she's...not normal. she realizes that. it's not...it's not likely for them to listen to her when all they've done is not listen, and she can feel it-can feel something, whatever it is, bubbling within her bones when she tells them to do something.
she tells her parents, quite calmly, over the table that she's manifested powers and should immediately be enrolled into an academy where she can learn how to control her power. they don't believe her at first, until she forces one of them to do something, somehow-tilts her head onto her dad's shoulder, thinks really hard about trying to force him to do something, and miraculously, it works.
and the rest, they say, is history.
it's not always failure that's that color, though. her mother's hair is that color though it's graying at the roots and her father's coat that he always wears home is that color, too. but black is the color of the spots on the tile at her father's small liquor store that never rub off no matter how hard he scrubs and the color of burnt incense ash at her grandmother's altar and the color of her hand after she gets a problem wrong after being called to the board.
she should clarify.
her father owns a small liquor store in the winding streets the city. the location isn't ideal and neither is the shop itself, a run-down little thing that's cluttered beyond belief, and not in the charming way that people tend to think of when they imagine old shops. in one of the sinks there's rust in the water and sometimes she swears she can hear mice. spiders spin their webs behind the shelves of liquor and bottles are covered in dust. but her father is happy and her mother smiles and maybe it's okay, after all.
she spends the first half of her life there, tucked into the back of the shop near the broken screen door that leads to the back-back of the store where there's litter and dead leaves and grime coating the ground. insects crawl and black sludge things glop but she feels safe, her father's coat wrapped around her and nearly drowning her as she watches cartoons on the small tv her dad brought from home to the store. she can hear her father joking with the customers (he always, always remembers their names, even if this is their second time here) and her mother stocks shelves as she hums old songs.
her sister is at her friend's house, working on a project. her sister is exactly four years older than her (imagine that! they're born on the same day) and they don't really talk.
it never occurs to her that they're poor, or some variant of that. she always has enough to eat and her mom always has more money for snacks (though she never buys any, which makes her pout a little internally) and she's given books and clothes and whatnot (but never toys). she starts getting a little bit older and notices that her father is never home when she is. he's always at work, work, work. labor day, veteran's day, her birthday, her mother and father's anniversary-he's never there. he comes home late at night and he's asleep when she leaves for elementary school and though she kisses him on the cheek before she leaves each night, she wonders when her father started feeling like a stranger.
he doesn't really, of course. she remembers the warm press of his work-wrinkled hands, and the low, low timbre of his voice and the soft smoke of his jacket as it still, still floods over her shoulders. he smells like cigarette smoke and the edge of his laughter sounds like the bubbles of whiskey as they fizzle out when he pours it after coming home from work. he pats her head and laughingly makes fun of her sun-tanned skin (sunscreen is weird and gloppy and cold, she protests) and pretends that she's a person of a different ethnicity.
hut...still...she doesn't see him. isn't that weird?
she starts getting pushed into classes as a kid. her mom saves and scrimps for her and her sister (bella, who's infinitely prettier than her, who is smarter and more popular and charismatic. She plays games with bella and follows her around like a lovelorn puppy and always lets bella play as she watches, watches, watches.) to go to these math classes, writing classes, whatever. winnie is apparently smart, very smart, and she excels at all of these, and in two years, she's ushered into the same class as her sister (four years older than her, four years precisely!) and beams at her sister as they sit side-by-side.
her mother finds out about a special program. it lets students take an assessment at a community college and if they pass, they are qualified to take certain undergrad college classes. winnie doesn't really want to take it but her mother urges her to and talks about her dad and how he works so hard and maybe if she works hard too, she'll get a scholarship and her dad won't have to come home with angry lines near his mouth because there were drunk customers or crazy ones or ones that threatened him with violence and winnie gives.
(she always will.)
she passes the assessment, and starts her math class the next month at the college.
her friends, of course, are appropriately envious and playful at once. right, her friends. they're a giggly bunch, quiet and sort of studious at the same time, and not extremely athletic but not extremely out of shape. they love talking about books-has she talked about how much she loves reading yet? she devours books like a monster-and some of them talk jokingly about boys and they all care about each other. she's on the quieter side but everyone smiles at her and they trade food at lunch. they tease her and call her a bookworm and a nerd though that's all they really are and they talk about tv shows.
but...they don't really talk to her, that much. she starts to talk a lot of times and they breeze right over her, not paying attention to what she has to say. she turns more and more quiet because of that, locked inside of a shell, and turns her focus to her studies. but she's not motivated, any more. the numbers swim in her vision idly and it's suddenly hard and boring and she doesn't really like it anymore. she doesn't like math or social studies or science or the boring, boring essays that they have in language arts and her grades-they drop.
her mom and dad yell at her and hit her and scold her at home and while she cries and screams and throws a tantrum about it when she comes home, after it's all said and done, she's numb. her mom still forces her to go to classes, makes her listen and corrects everything in her life. she makes her join clubs and complains about winnie to her dad and tells her that she should be more like her sister, bella, who she doesn't even talk to anymore even though that they share the same bedroom and winnie honestly doesn't even care. she starts spending time-even more time-reading. at break and during lunch and whatever it is, she devours words like they'll help, somehow.
her friends don't notice her absences and her mom starts telling her to stop reading and instead to study. she doesn't listen. words become her only solace and as she stares at the ceiling on nights to come, her sister keeps on talking to her (for once) as they go to bed. it starts out teasing but then eventually her sister starts using new words that are "bad words" and winnie stops. and she learns them by heart.
her sister calls her them at first playfully as a sort of a nickname. it's so forbidden and taboo to swear and their hearts both thrill at the sound of it and so that's how it begins.
her sister, four years older than her, suddenly changes.
it's not in a way that she anticipates. but it's as if one day her teasing nicknames of "bad words" turn into real. she tells winnie she's ugly and to go die in a hole and it's still sort of playful but she says it like four times a day and that really hurts. and her mom and dad keep on comparing them to each other and her mom rags on her about her grades (an A-, a B+...her grades are not acceptable and is this how you treat your parents? you know how much i've given for you, you ungrateful daughter, not my daughter, not my daughter, not my daughter)
her friends still don't notice.
she pretends that she's the same old winnie and just uses the swear words at school, giggling and whispering with her friends every single time she mouths each one as if she hasn't said, heard, listened to each one. she listens to her dad come home at two in the morning with cigarette smoke hanging on his jacket and listens to him talk about how less and less people are frequenting the store. she listens to her mom and dad argue at night about politics and money and their daughters and wonders when everything started falling apart. her sister doesn't sleep in the same room as her anymore, either, and winnie stares at the nightlight by her bed and wonders when she started being afraid of what lurked in the dark.
her grades scritch and scratch and drop some more.
she lies to her mom. ("they'll get better, maman, i promise.") and then her dad. they believe it for a while and then they don't and she's yelled at and hit and grounded and she still doesn't care. crying feels bad because her mom and her dad don't like that for some inexplicable reason so she just stares at the ceiling in the unlocked bathroom and blinks at her hands and then...she wonders why she has so little control in her life. her mom picks out her clothes and food and tells her which friends she should keep and which ones she shouldn't and tells her to do this and that and always, always reminds her that she should listen and be an obedient child.
now.
here is the secret.
she walks outside of the library one day, turning the corner when it begins to rain. she ducks into an alley to wait it out, since she forgot her umbrella and she's pretty sure that her parents won't really care, anyways (and what will they do, if they care? show it? please). she stands there and then jolts when she realizes that there's someone right next to her. he's drunk, she can tell, still sipping out of a bottle and eyes locked right on her.
winnie doesn't show it, but she feels vulnerable.
she says nothing, remaining silent. they stand there as the rain evens out, fluctuating in terms of strength. and then his hand creeps closer on the wall and slides over skin and she freezes. she tells him to stop.
it goes on. she doesn't know how long it is, but she stares at him straight in the eye as her voice slowly raises in pitch and she tells him to stop, and then-
and then he does.
she tells him, shakily, to leave-and he does.
and she leaves, too, coming home drenched. she takes two showers but she still doesn't feel clean, and she goes over to the edge of her bed, hair carefully wrapped in a towel. she sits there and she thinks, and she thinks about nothing at all except the sensation of ten billion little ants crawling up her arms, and she doesn't mention it at all when she goes downstairs to tell her mom that she's making dinner.
her sister is mean and cruel and makes her mom mad at her any time she can because her sister feels the same way that she does. her sister wants to wear makeup and have boyfriends and have sleepovers with her friends but her mom says no and gets mad at her sister every single time bella brings up the topic of dying her hair. to make her mom not mad at herself, bella makes their mom mad at winnie, instead. and bella gets mad at winnie herself. winnie can't say anything, won't say anything back because she'll get yelled at for talking back to someone older than her and-
she sucks it up and it tastes bitter.
she starts being pushier at school. Somewhere along the line, she's become the "smart one" in class and everyone expects her to do all the work in group projects and the like. she pretends that she has all as (she doesn't) and pretends that she's gotten her life in order and orders people around and her friends still stay friends but she catches them whispering about her behind her back. her heart clenches. she purses her lips and turns her back.
and then she continues on.
one night she's reading a book and thinks, why am i such a bad person? and then it crashes down on her that she's a bad person and that person she pretends to be at school really isn't her. this personality she's adopted, this person she's become-it's not her. but she can't, won't push aside the facade because she doesn't know who she is without it. she doesn't want people to know that she's this person stuck into a life of gray, this girl who doesn't know where she's going and doesn't know and doesn't know and doesn't know.
...
the incident happens again. she makes them leave. it's with a different person.
she's...not normal. she realizes that. it's not...it's not likely for them to listen to her when all they've done is not listen, and she can feel it-can feel something, whatever it is, bubbling within her bones when she tells them to do something.
she tells her parents, quite calmly, over the table that she's manifested powers and should immediately be enrolled into an academy where she can learn how to control her power. they don't believe her at first, until she forces one of them to do something, somehow-tilts her head onto her dad's shoulder, thinks really hard about trying to force him to do something, and miraculously, it works.
and the rest, they say, is history.
> DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR; SUZUME YOSANO <
Played By: SCHEHERAZADE
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