Post by masochist on Jun 9, 2006 0:02:10 GMT -5
Full Name: Bridgette “Maeve” MacGregrory (she hates the name Bridgette, and will only let people in high authority call her that)
Codename: Masochist
Age: 17
Birth Day: September 26th
Hair color: Deep brown, nearly black. It is occasionally streaked with chunks of bright colors, like purples or blues.
Eye color: Bluish grey
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 132 lbs
Personality: Maeve has always tried to be the perfect child around adults, but as her depression and powers grew, she let that image slide a bit. Despite her attempts she still ends up being the ‘good girl’ and can be a bit Naïve towards the whole mutant/human ordeal. She’s quiet most of the time, but will always lend a helping hand, or a shoulder to cry on when she can, to enemy or ally alike when the situation calls upon it. She isn’t one for physical fighting, but enjoys providing what precious little she can to the group in ways of healing, cooking and other household duties.
Appearance: Upon first glance, Maeve could pass as your typical school going teenager, nothing special or out of the ordinary with her. With shoulder length shaggy dark hair, most often pulled back in a low ponytail, long bangs that frame her pale face, and simple rimmed glasses that obscure her eyes, Maeve is often passed over at first glance. She even dresses casual as not to draw too much attention to her. Her most common outfit is a sleeveless black turtleneck, dark black cargos and a fuzzy royal blue sweater that hangs off of her shoulders. She is rarely seen without her elbow length black Lycra gloves.
Though, what Maeve believes to be her most appalling features, she keeps hidden from even the most prying eyes. A myriad of scars cover her entire body, most apparent on her arms, which she keeps covered by the gloves. Other places of note are her neck, breastbone and stomach area, and all a direct result of using her mutation.
Parents' Name: Joanna MacGregrory, Robert MacGregrory
Powers: Masochist’s powers are unique to say the least. First off there is her increased rate of healing. Although, not nearly as powerful as Logan’s regenerative mutation, hers allows her to heal her own wounds almost twice as fast as humans. Masochist’s second power is her key ability, the power to transfer physical wounds (ie. cuts, scrapes, broken bones) from a living creature to herself. Upon direct skin-to-skin contact, she is able to take all wounds, or a certain wound from a creature and place it upon her body in the exact location of the initial wound. In the beginning, it was totally random and happened to everything she touched, but slowly, she’s been able to develop ore control over her powers to limit the damage it does to her, and so she can specify what wounds to take.
Weaknesses: Despite her powers, she receives marks and scars from the deeper, serious wounds. Passing out, blood loss, or even death could happen if she uses her powers too carelessly, or trying to heal to serious a wound. She also is not a fighter, lacking in brute strength or the grace most others do (As well as an offensive power).
Affiliation (Xavier's, Brotherhood, Star, Independent): Independent, but will probably join the Brotherhood (she always winds up there, they need a mother figure)
Skills: An avid knitter due to her heavy interaction with her grandmother, as well as quite the little housewife and chef.
Interests: Knitting, cooking, cleaning, and learning more about mutants and their pasts.
Bio/History: The daughter of a newlywed couple, Maeve was their little bundle of joy, being raised always in the light and never left alone. This resulted in Maeve’s shelter and her naivety of the outside world. Years went by smoothly, Maeve turning out to be the perfect little girl her parents had always wanted: Perfect grades, perfect manners, perfect everything. Life was perfect, until Maeve’s thirteenth birthday came and went, as did perfection.
The problem reared its ugly head when her mother found Maeve, after tending to a ground sparrow with a broken wing, had fractured her arm. The sparrow, surprisingly, was fine, its wing completely healed. More and more after the incident, Maeve would come home from school, or outside playing, with cuts or bruises.
Her parents were worried, but believed their daughter when she claimed she had a few accidents. Slowly the wounds vanished, but left faint pink scars in remembrance. She little by little began to figure out how to control her powers at that age, or at least how to stop it from activating just with touch.
Maeve hit her teen years with no more of the episodes, but still kept the scars from her previous incidents. Rumors flew around the high school of her ‘cutting’ herself, driving the usual sunny girl into a deep depression.
The rumors circulated between schoolmates, neighbors, and friends until finally they came to her mother. She approached the teen and got a reaction she never expected; Maeve told her mother about her powers. The woman didn’t handle the news of her precious baby becoming a ‘freak’ very well and broke down, locking herself in her room.
This sparked the first hint of rebellion in Maeve and she took her savings and bought a buss ticket to Bayville, to go stay with her grandmother. The woman was pleasantly surprised but didn’t ask any questions of Maeve’s arrival, but opened her home to her granddaughter.
Maeve remained there for nearly a year, finding friends and foes alike. Her life took a spin when she learned of more like her, more mutants. She’s currently looking for a new place to stay, hopefully with more like herself in order to better understand her powers and what she is.
*Example Post:
Clack…clack…clack…
Maeve glanced up sharply, her needles poised in the thick mountain of blue grey yarn that lay across her thighs. From behind her glasses she glanced at the rustic clock that hung over the kitchen door.
“Only eleven forty five…?” she murmured softly, her attention sliding back across her half done sweater. The needles began clacking together once again. Uneasiness seemed to speed up her production of the wooly garments; two already lay across the kitchen table. A simple wine red one for Scott, and a soft grey one for Ororo…
The needles froze in mid purl, and a yawn slipped almost unnoticed from the blonde’s lips then melted into a withering sigh. It had been hours since the team had left, hunting down yet another mutant who posed a threat to society. Part of the young girl was tied up in knots. What if they were injured…or dead?
Clack…clack…clack…
“Bridgette? Your still up?”
She nearly leapt from her skin and dropped the wool, the half done sweater and her needles on the floor. Her tense muscles relaxed as she noticed Hank standing in the doorway, concern etched onto his normally calm face. She struggled for a moment to pick up her knitting, and then nodded slowly to the older mutant.
“Yes…you never know if they’ll need my healing…” Her voice was faint, holding a few tiny notes of the weariness and fatigue that was evident in her expression.
He moved to the refrigerator and took a bottle of water. “Just don’t exhaust yourself.” He said, nodding again to her before leaving the kitchen.
Maeve curled her legs under her and set the knitting down, raking her hands through her hair before stealing another glance at the clock. It was still too early for her to be giving up and heading back to her room. Perhaps another hour would do? They would call her if they needed her…
Another yawn was smothered with a Lycra encased hand and her grey eyes shuttered threateningly, her body trembling. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea she had to stay up like this, especially after healing Roberto and Ray after their scuffle that morning. The boys had gotten in yet another fight when Roberto ‘accidentally’ knocked Ray’s orange juice into his lap. The end resulted in some cuts and Roberto with a broken rib.
Maeve touched her abdomen for a moment. It had healed, but there was still a dull ache and a bit of bruising. As well as the fatigue of using her powers like that, they had both been ebbing her strength for most of the day, and now that it was near the end, she was beginning to fade.
She slid down on her side along the small cushioned seat, resting her head on Logan’s sweater-to-be. Her eyes flickered shut almost immediately, and her breathing became soft and steady as she drifted to sleep.
It was at that moment, the X-jet decided to glide almost noiselessly back into the hangar.
(*looks up at the sample post* that was the most useless piece of drivvel I've done... >.<)
Codename: Masochist
Age: 17
Birth Day: September 26th
Hair color: Deep brown, nearly black. It is occasionally streaked with chunks of bright colors, like purples or blues.
Eye color: Bluish grey
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 132 lbs
Personality: Maeve has always tried to be the perfect child around adults, but as her depression and powers grew, she let that image slide a bit. Despite her attempts she still ends up being the ‘good girl’ and can be a bit Naïve towards the whole mutant/human ordeal. She’s quiet most of the time, but will always lend a helping hand, or a shoulder to cry on when she can, to enemy or ally alike when the situation calls upon it. She isn’t one for physical fighting, but enjoys providing what precious little she can to the group in ways of healing, cooking and other household duties.
Appearance: Upon first glance, Maeve could pass as your typical school going teenager, nothing special or out of the ordinary with her. With shoulder length shaggy dark hair, most often pulled back in a low ponytail, long bangs that frame her pale face, and simple rimmed glasses that obscure her eyes, Maeve is often passed over at first glance. She even dresses casual as not to draw too much attention to her. Her most common outfit is a sleeveless black turtleneck, dark black cargos and a fuzzy royal blue sweater that hangs off of her shoulders. She is rarely seen without her elbow length black Lycra gloves.
Though, what Maeve believes to be her most appalling features, she keeps hidden from even the most prying eyes. A myriad of scars cover her entire body, most apparent on her arms, which she keeps covered by the gloves. Other places of note are her neck, breastbone and stomach area, and all a direct result of using her mutation.
Parents' Name: Joanna MacGregrory, Robert MacGregrory
Powers: Masochist’s powers are unique to say the least. First off there is her increased rate of healing. Although, not nearly as powerful as Logan’s regenerative mutation, hers allows her to heal her own wounds almost twice as fast as humans. Masochist’s second power is her key ability, the power to transfer physical wounds (ie. cuts, scrapes, broken bones) from a living creature to herself. Upon direct skin-to-skin contact, she is able to take all wounds, or a certain wound from a creature and place it upon her body in the exact location of the initial wound. In the beginning, it was totally random and happened to everything she touched, but slowly, she’s been able to develop ore control over her powers to limit the damage it does to her, and so she can specify what wounds to take.
Weaknesses: Despite her powers, she receives marks and scars from the deeper, serious wounds. Passing out, blood loss, or even death could happen if she uses her powers too carelessly, or trying to heal to serious a wound. She also is not a fighter, lacking in brute strength or the grace most others do (As well as an offensive power).
Affiliation (Xavier's, Brotherhood, Star, Independent): Independent, but will probably join the Brotherhood (she always winds up there, they need a mother figure)
Skills: An avid knitter due to her heavy interaction with her grandmother, as well as quite the little housewife and chef.
Interests: Knitting, cooking, cleaning, and learning more about mutants and their pasts.
Bio/History: The daughter of a newlywed couple, Maeve was their little bundle of joy, being raised always in the light and never left alone. This resulted in Maeve’s shelter and her naivety of the outside world. Years went by smoothly, Maeve turning out to be the perfect little girl her parents had always wanted: Perfect grades, perfect manners, perfect everything. Life was perfect, until Maeve’s thirteenth birthday came and went, as did perfection.
The problem reared its ugly head when her mother found Maeve, after tending to a ground sparrow with a broken wing, had fractured her arm. The sparrow, surprisingly, was fine, its wing completely healed. More and more after the incident, Maeve would come home from school, or outside playing, with cuts or bruises.
Her parents were worried, but believed their daughter when she claimed she had a few accidents. Slowly the wounds vanished, but left faint pink scars in remembrance. She little by little began to figure out how to control her powers at that age, or at least how to stop it from activating just with touch.
Maeve hit her teen years with no more of the episodes, but still kept the scars from her previous incidents. Rumors flew around the high school of her ‘cutting’ herself, driving the usual sunny girl into a deep depression.
The rumors circulated between schoolmates, neighbors, and friends until finally they came to her mother. She approached the teen and got a reaction she never expected; Maeve told her mother about her powers. The woman didn’t handle the news of her precious baby becoming a ‘freak’ very well and broke down, locking herself in her room.
This sparked the first hint of rebellion in Maeve and she took her savings and bought a buss ticket to Bayville, to go stay with her grandmother. The woman was pleasantly surprised but didn’t ask any questions of Maeve’s arrival, but opened her home to her granddaughter.
Maeve remained there for nearly a year, finding friends and foes alike. Her life took a spin when she learned of more like her, more mutants. She’s currently looking for a new place to stay, hopefully with more like herself in order to better understand her powers and what she is.
*Example Post:
Clack…clack…clack…
Maeve glanced up sharply, her needles poised in the thick mountain of blue grey yarn that lay across her thighs. From behind her glasses she glanced at the rustic clock that hung over the kitchen door.
“Only eleven forty five…?” she murmured softly, her attention sliding back across her half done sweater. The needles began clacking together once again. Uneasiness seemed to speed up her production of the wooly garments; two already lay across the kitchen table. A simple wine red one for Scott, and a soft grey one for Ororo…
The needles froze in mid purl, and a yawn slipped almost unnoticed from the blonde’s lips then melted into a withering sigh. It had been hours since the team had left, hunting down yet another mutant who posed a threat to society. Part of the young girl was tied up in knots. What if they were injured…or dead?
Clack…clack…clack…
“Bridgette? Your still up?”
She nearly leapt from her skin and dropped the wool, the half done sweater and her needles on the floor. Her tense muscles relaxed as she noticed Hank standing in the doorway, concern etched onto his normally calm face. She struggled for a moment to pick up her knitting, and then nodded slowly to the older mutant.
“Yes…you never know if they’ll need my healing…” Her voice was faint, holding a few tiny notes of the weariness and fatigue that was evident in her expression.
He moved to the refrigerator and took a bottle of water. “Just don’t exhaust yourself.” He said, nodding again to her before leaving the kitchen.
Maeve curled her legs under her and set the knitting down, raking her hands through her hair before stealing another glance at the clock. It was still too early for her to be giving up and heading back to her room. Perhaps another hour would do? They would call her if they needed her…
Another yawn was smothered with a Lycra encased hand and her grey eyes shuttered threateningly, her body trembling. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea she had to stay up like this, especially after healing Roberto and Ray after their scuffle that morning. The boys had gotten in yet another fight when Roberto ‘accidentally’ knocked Ray’s orange juice into his lap. The end resulted in some cuts and Roberto with a broken rib.
Maeve touched her abdomen for a moment. It had healed, but there was still a dull ache and a bit of bruising. As well as the fatigue of using her powers like that, they had both been ebbing her strength for most of the day, and now that it was near the end, she was beginning to fade.
She slid down on her side along the small cushioned seat, resting her head on Logan’s sweater-to-be. Her eyes flickered shut almost immediately, and her breathing became soft and steady as she drifted to sleep.
It was at that moment, the X-jet decided to glide almost noiselessly back into the hangar.
(*looks up at the sample post* that was the most useless piece of drivvel I've done... >.<)
