Post by Deleted on Apr 7, 2013 23:35:43 GMT -5
Basics: Tate, Agitha. Pyxsol.
Full Name: Agitha Marilyn Tate
Codename: Pyxsol
Nicknames: N/A
Type: Original
Gender: Female
Species: Homo superior
Age: 17
Date of Birth: June 25
Hometown: New York City, New York
Current Residence: X-Mansion
Loyalty: X-Student
Occupation: Student
Hair Colour: Red
Eye Colour: Green
Height: 5’2”
Weight: 110lbs
Body Type: Slender
Typical Style: Stylish but comfortable
Distinguishing Features: Her ears are pierced twice, but nothing else.
Physical Mutations: None
Uniform: Agitha’s uniform consists of tight, black, leather pants and tank top. She wears black gloves that go halfway up her upper arm. A yellow X is centered on her back and on the back of each glove. She wears Doc Marten style black boots.
Personality: Agitha, by nature, is a very shy girl. She has always had trouble making friends, often ending up the object of many bullies’ attention. She would rather watch than participate. She is suspicious of people’s motives when they try to get close to her. Her passive stance grew exponentially after the incident with her father and brother. Not understanding her powers, she tries to keep people away, not only for her protection, but for theirs as well. She enjoys being with the few people she has been able to keep in her life. When she is truly able to let go and let her guard down, she can be a fun loving person. She is smart, but has never been a very good student. She floats by with little effort, not having ever found something she really cares about.
Family: Marilyn - Mother - 39
Grady - Father - 43
Jake - Brother - 10
Shaw - Brother - 8 - Deceased
History:
Agitha comes from an extremely normal family. Mom, dad, brothers, dog. Church on Sundays. Dinner around the dinner table at 6:30.
Starting around the age of 10, small incidents began to happen. She had a way of feeling what other people felt. Sometimes she knew things that she shouldn’t. Things that no one had told her. She knew when people meant her harm and when their intentions were pure. She was exceptionally good at swaying her parents to get what she wanted. Occasionally at school, students would burst into tears around her if she was having a particularly bad day. She could look at someone and see what kind of person they were. See into them. This continued on and off. Sometimes more incidents than usual would occur, sometimes nothing would happen at all. Until one day...
When she was 16, she had had a particularly bad day. There was a group of girls at school that for some reason made it their goal to make Agitha miserable. This day’s mishap had culminated in a carton of milk being poured over her head during lunch. She wasn’t allowed to leave so by the time school was out, her hair was crusty and rank from old milk. She walked home from school because she lived too close for the bus and didn’t have enough money for a car. By the time she got home, the smell was even worse. She was fuming. This was the last straw. Something had to be done or it would never stop.
Once she was home, her father immediately started getting on to her. She slammed to door too loud. Why wasn’t she in a good mood? Everything he said angered her more and more. This was clearly not a good day. Couldn’t he see that and just leave her alone? But no. He couldn’t. And she couldn’t control how frustrated and infuriated she was getting. Her father’s voice kept escalating and growing angrier. Agitha was no longer listening to his words. She was just marveling at the noise. He had never yelled this loud before. She could see his heart and it was red. Something wasn’t right...
Just then, her eight year old brother, Shaw, entered the room to see what all the commotion was about. In a heartbeat, her father whipped around and slit his throat. The boy fell to the ground, the father dropped to his knees, and Agitha ran.
Why had he gotten so angry? Had she done it again? Influenced his feelings somehow...was this her fault? After she got out of the house, she called 911. Her father was arrested, her brother was pronounced dead, and in the blink of an eye, her family had fallen apart. Her father had never meant to do it, her mother knew that. She knew the truth. Her daughter was different, and not in a good way. She blamed Agitha and she made that very clear.
Agitha couldn’t function anymore. She pushed everyone away. She couldn’t let it happen again. She had to learn to control this...this thing, or everyone she loved would suffer even more.
With all the recent talk of the Mutant Registration Act, Agitha began to wonder. Was she a mutant? Was this some sort of power? Were there others like her? Maybe the Mutant Registration Act was a good idea. It could help her find others like her and they could help her. But then again...maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. Pointing out of the mutants would make them targets. There were a lot of people, even her own mother, who were growing more afraid every day of anything and anyone remotely different.
At the beginning of her senior year, Agitha was visited at home by some of the X-Men. They knew what had happened and they wanted to train her. This could be her chance. Her mother was more than happy to be rid of her and it wasn’t like she would be leaving much of a life behind. So she agreed. She packed up and followed the X-Men.
Classification: Delta
Powers: Psychic Empathy: Agitha can keenly sense what other people are feeling. Strong enough emotions can have an impact on her and how she feels. Consequently, she can influence others emotions with her own. So far, this has mostly happened in the midst of strong emotion and without her meaning to. She can sense people’s motives, whether or not they are lying, and sometimes bits and pieces of the thoughts running through their heads.
Aura Vision: When Agitha looks at someone, sometimes their aura manifests itself in tiny, color-coded clouds around them. The artist in her sees the clouds as groups of pixels surrounding them, which is where she came up with her codename, Pyxsol. The different colors can tell her kind of person they are and what they are feeling, although she is still piecing together what each color means.
Skills: Agitha is quite a skilled artist. She is talented with mixed media and often spends her free time creating works of art based on how she sees the world and other people.
Weaponry: None
Role Play Sample: She was fuming on her walk home. One and a half miles gave her a lot of time to think. To think about humiliation. To think about revenge. To think about the rancid, crusty milk stuck in her hair.
She opened the door to her family’s average two story, three bedroom, two and a half bath house and closed it with a slam, practically begging to be scolded.
“Really, Agitha? Are we going to start this already?” a voice boomed from the kitchen. Her stay-at-home father was probably working on dinner.
“Please, Dad, not today...” she replied with audible frustration as she walked into the kitchen. Her father was chopping what looked like zucchini and squash.
“Did something happen today?” he asked, turning to look at her with concerned eyes.
“Nothing happened. I don’t want to talk about it,” she said shortly. She felt her emotions growing inside of her, flowing out from her. She exuded anger, irritation, even malice.
“You don’t want to talk about it?” Her father was obviously losing his concern. “Of course you don’t. You never do. What would you like to talk about? How you’re alone in the world? How no one understands you? Those bitches at school?!” Every word that came out of his mouth was louder and angrier than the last. His face was red and he was almost out of breath. Agitha was at a loss for words. She stuttered out a few syllables but nothing intelligible.
At that moment, a little boy about eight bounced into the kitchen. “Daddy, what are you yelling about?”
The man’s features were stone cold. His words sounded like growls and came slowly, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He spun around to face his child and before he realized it, the hand holding the knife was out and there was a deep crimson pouring from the boy’s neck. The room was agonizingly silent for the longest five seconds of any of their lives. The clank of a knife and the thud of a body hit the floor at the same time.
“Shaw? What...?” the father’s words were painful to utter and to hear. His tear filled eyes looked from his lifeless son to his speechless daughter.
“Dad...I...” Agitha slowly backed away from the kitchen and bolted for the door leaving her father alone with his thoughts.
Your Name: Pyxsol
Other Characters: N/A
Full Name: Agitha Marilyn Tate
Codename: Pyxsol
Nicknames: N/A
Type: Original
Gender: Female
Species: Homo superior
Age: 17
Date of Birth: June 25
Hometown: New York City, New York
Current Residence: X-Mansion
Loyalty: X-Student
Occupation: Student
Hair Colour: Red
Eye Colour: Green
Height: 5’2”
Weight: 110lbs
Body Type: Slender
Typical Style: Stylish but comfortable
Distinguishing Features: Her ears are pierced twice, but nothing else.
Physical Mutations: None
Uniform: Agitha’s uniform consists of tight, black, leather pants and tank top. She wears black gloves that go halfway up her upper arm. A yellow X is centered on her back and on the back of each glove. She wears Doc Marten style black boots.
Personality: Agitha, by nature, is a very shy girl. She has always had trouble making friends, often ending up the object of many bullies’ attention. She would rather watch than participate. She is suspicious of people’s motives when they try to get close to her. Her passive stance grew exponentially after the incident with her father and brother. Not understanding her powers, she tries to keep people away, not only for her protection, but for theirs as well. She enjoys being with the few people she has been able to keep in her life. When she is truly able to let go and let her guard down, she can be a fun loving person. She is smart, but has never been a very good student. She floats by with little effort, not having ever found something she really cares about.
Family: Marilyn - Mother - 39
Grady - Father - 43
Jake - Brother - 10
Shaw - Brother - 8 - Deceased
History:
Agitha comes from an extremely normal family. Mom, dad, brothers, dog. Church on Sundays. Dinner around the dinner table at 6:30.
Starting around the age of 10, small incidents began to happen. She had a way of feeling what other people felt. Sometimes she knew things that she shouldn’t. Things that no one had told her. She knew when people meant her harm and when their intentions were pure. She was exceptionally good at swaying her parents to get what she wanted. Occasionally at school, students would burst into tears around her if she was having a particularly bad day. She could look at someone and see what kind of person they were. See into them. This continued on and off. Sometimes more incidents than usual would occur, sometimes nothing would happen at all. Until one day...
When she was 16, she had had a particularly bad day. There was a group of girls at school that for some reason made it their goal to make Agitha miserable. This day’s mishap had culminated in a carton of milk being poured over her head during lunch. She wasn’t allowed to leave so by the time school was out, her hair was crusty and rank from old milk. She walked home from school because she lived too close for the bus and didn’t have enough money for a car. By the time she got home, the smell was even worse. She was fuming. This was the last straw. Something had to be done or it would never stop.
Once she was home, her father immediately started getting on to her. She slammed to door too loud. Why wasn’t she in a good mood? Everything he said angered her more and more. This was clearly not a good day. Couldn’t he see that and just leave her alone? But no. He couldn’t. And she couldn’t control how frustrated and infuriated she was getting. Her father’s voice kept escalating and growing angrier. Agitha was no longer listening to his words. She was just marveling at the noise. He had never yelled this loud before. She could see his heart and it was red. Something wasn’t right...
Just then, her eight year old brother, Shaw, entered the room to see what all the commotion was about. In a heartbeat, her father whipped around and slit his throat. The boy fell to the ground, the father dropped to his knees, and Agitha ran.
Why had he gotten so angry? Had she done it again? Influenced his feelings somehow...was this her fault? After she got out of the house, she called 911. Her father was arrested, her brother was pronounced dead, and in the blink of an eye, her family had fallen apart. Her father had never meant to do it, her mother knew that. She knew the truth. Her daughter was different, and not in a good way. She blamed Agitha and she made that very clear.
Agitha couldn’t function anymore. She pushed everyone away. She couldn’t let it happen again. She had to learn to control this...this thing, or everyone she loved would suffer even more.
With all the recent talk of the Mutant Registration Act, Agitha began to wonder. Was she a mutant? Was this some sort of power? Were there others like her? Maybe the Mutant Registration Act was a good idea. It could help her find others like her and they could help her. But then again...maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. Pointing out of the mutants would make them targets. There were a lot of people, even her own mother, who were growing more afraid every day of anything and anyone remotely different.
At the beginning of her senior year, Agitha was visited at home by some of the X-Men. They knew what had happened and they wanted to train her. This could be her chance. Her mother was more than happy to be rid of her and it wasn’t like she would be leaving much of a life behind. So she agreed. She packed up and followed the X-Men.
Classification: Delta
Powers: Psychic Empathy: Agitha can keenly sense what other people are feeling. Strong enough emotions can have an impact on her and how she feels. Consequently, she can influence others emotions with her own. So far, this has mostly happened in the midst of strong emotion and without her meaning to. She can sense people’s motives, whether or not they are lying, and sometimes bits and pieces of the thoughts running through their heads.
Aura Vision: When Agitha looks at someone, sometimes their aura manifests itself in tiny, color-coded clouds around them. The artist in her sees the clouds as groups of pixels surrounding them, which is where she came up with her codename, Pyxsol. The different colors can tell her kind of person they are and what they are feeling, although she is still piecing together what each color means.
Skills: Agitha is quite a skilled artist. She is talented with mixed media and often spends her free time creating works of art based on how she sees the world and other people.
Weaponry: None
Role Play Sample: She was fuming on her walk home. One and a half miles gave her a lot of time to think. To think about humiliation. To think about revenge. To think about the rancid, crusty milk stuck in her hair.
She opened the door to her family’s average two story, three bedroom, two and a half bath house and closed it with a slam, practically begging to be scolded.
“Really, Agitha? Are we going to start this already?” a voice boomed from the kitchen. Her stay-at-home father was probably working on dinner.
“Please, Dad, not today...” she replied with audible frustration as she walked into the kitchen. Her father was chopping what looked like zucchini and squash.
“Did something happen today?” he asked, turning to look at her with concerned eyes.
“Nothing happened. I don’t want to talk about it,” she said shortly. She felt her emotions growing inside of her, flowing out from her. She exuded anger, irritation, even malice.
“You don’t want to talk about it?” Her father was obviously losing his concern. “Of course you don’t. You never do. What would you like to talk about? How you’re alone in the world? How no one understands you? Those bitches at school?!” Every word that came out of his mouth was louder and angrier than the last. His face was red and he was almost out of breath. Agitha was at a loss for words. She stuttered out a few syllables but nothing intelligible.
At that moment, a little boy about eight bounced into the kitchen. “Daddy, what are you yelling about?”
The man’s features were stone cold. His words sounded like growls and came slowly, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He spun around to face his child and before he realized it, the hand holding the knife was out and there was a deep crimson pouring from the boy’s neck. The room was agonizingly silent for the longest five seconds of any of their lives. The clank of a knife and the thud of a body hit the floor at the same time.
“Shaw? What...?” the father’s words were painful to utter and to hear. His tear filled eyes looked from his lifeless son to his speechless daughter.
“Dad...I...” Agitha slowly backed away from the kitchen and bolted for the door leaving her father alone with his thoughts.
Your Name: Pyxsol
Other Characters: N/A
