![](http://i.imgur.com/MnVP6Eh.png" "source: imgur.com")
Post by Ashley Benson on Apr 1, 2015 19:05:35 GMT -6
FACE CLAIM: Alexandra Daddario
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AGE: 18
GENDER: Female
ORIENTATION: Bisexual
POSITION: High School Student
POWER: Electromagnetism Manipulation
Ashley is able to manipulate electromagnetic fields to the level where she's capable of moving ferrous metals with her mind. While her capabilities are limited at the moment, she's shown remarkable potential in the manipulation of these fields. With minimal effort Ashley is can manipulate small objects such as paper clips, nails, or even cutlery from distances of up to 30 meters, so long as she has line of sight. She can hurl these objects with roughly the same force as she could physically. Her level of control decreases exponentially as the weight of the object increases. With a more concerted effort, Ashley has shown to be able to lift up to 100lbs of ferrous metal approximately 10 feet before the mental strain caused her power to fail.
LIMITATIONS:
- Objects(s) must be within line of sight and no more than 30 meters away.
- Ashley cannot lift more than 100 lbs of ferrous metal, and even then, only for a matter of seconds before she loses the mental connection with her power and the object drops.
- While small objects can be regularly manipulated without adverse affects, anything exceeding 5 lbs requires concentration and over use of the power (roughly 30 minutes of continuous use for objects in the 5-20 lbs range, decreasing to mere seconds when she reaches her weight limit) could result in a small, electromagnetic pulse from being released. This pulse has been known to interfere with electronic devices within 5 meters of Ashley. The pulse isn't strong enough to blow out lights or fry computers, but can cause glitches with particularly sensitive hardware
- Ashley cannot throw or hurl an object with any more force than she could physically. While this could increase exponentially with training, at the moment she's incapable of causing much more than minor bodily harm to herself or others.
SIDE-EFFECTS:
- Ashley has shown to exhibit traits of a mental disorder brought on by her genetic mutation. These symptoms include abnormal social behavior and failure to recognize what is real. Episodes typically manifest in false beliefs, unclear or confused thinking, auditory hallucinations, reduced social engagement and emotional expression, and inactivity. Ashley's condition is managed through extensive therapy and an aggressive medication plan. While her treatment has reduced the frequency and severity of her psychotic episodes, she is still susceptible to waking dreams, intense nightmares and hallucinations at sporadic times.
- Ashley also suffers from a severe clinical depression also caused by the abnormal way in which her brain processes information. Much like her other disorders, bouts of her depression are managed through therapy and medication. She is still prone to being withdrawn and distant. Her disorders are neurological, not emotional in nature and can be managed, but not cured.
- Overuse of her power can cause headaches, nosebleeds, vertigo and loss of consciousness. In cases of extreme duress, overuse can trigger a manic or psychotic episode with unpredictable results (see previous side effects for details).- Recorded excerpt from therapy session dated May 29th, 2012
Subject Name: Ashley Benson, 15 years old -
The screen flickers on showing a blurred office and a teenage girl sitting in a chair. She brushes her dark hair behind her ear and looks toward the psychiatrist who is off camera. She looks pensive and nervous, as if she understands why she's has to be in the office but doesn't look forward to the discussion she's about to have.
"The anniversary is coming up." The disembodied voice says in a calm, clear manner. The words, in spite of their delivery, make the girl visibly flinch and lower her gaze. "Why don't you run through the events that led up to that day?"
The girl swallows hard and her mouth moves to speak but no words come out. Visibly upset she takes a long, ragged breath and fights back the surge of emotions the long pushed down memories evoke. She brings a hand to her face, wiping her palm across the corner of her eye as she begins to speak.
"Everything was fine. I was just a normal fourteen year old living in a suburb of Seattle. I went to school, I had friends, my parents were divorced but they were on good terms so, I guess it wasn't that bad."
She paused, her eyes shifting to the side as she grew uncomfortable under the watchful gaze of her councilor. "Go on." He urged, his tone soft. "What happened before June first?"
After another moment to get her bearings, the girl continues.
"I started to feel... not right. I didn't want to hang out with my friends, or my family. I started to think that people were always talking about me. Making fun of me. I started to see... things in the shadows at night. I couldn't sleep, or eat. I lied and just said I was sick but after a week my parents started to get worried. They kept trying to talk to me to find out what was wrong and even schedule an appointment with a psychiatrist, but I didn't make it that far. I started to have these... waking dreams where people would say things that didn't make sense. Hallucinations, visions. It was only a week before... it happened that this started. It got worse every day until..."
The girl trails off, the memories bringing about a great discomfort. She shifts nervously in her chair and peers at her councilor expectantly. She knows whats coming, knows exactly what they were going to ask next.
"What do you remember about that day?"
It was a story she'd recounted so many times before and with each telling the details were just hammered more and more into her mind. There were so many blank spaces within the memories but the affects of it all still haunts her every moment.
"That morning was the worst it'd ever been. I kept hearing the voices of the people I thought were my friends taunting me, laughing at me. I just remember being overwhelmed. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted them to leave me alone. that's all I could think of while I walked to school. I started to get mad. Angry that my friends would turn on me like they did. That the world had rejected me." The girl swallows hard. Tears threaten to spill from her crystal blue eyes as they focus upon the councilor.
"I wanted to make them hurt like they'd made me hurt."- Recorded excerpt from therapy session dated March 20th, 2015Subject Name: Ashley Benson, 17 years old -The screen flickers to life. It's the same girl, a couple years older and looking very much like a blossoming young woman physically, but still obviously inwardly drawn and just as nervous as before. Once again, the disembodied voice of the same psychiatrist breaks the silence and causes the girl's eyes, which had been lowered to the floor, to snap up.
"You've been here almost three years now, Miss Benson." The name causes the girl to tense, even after all this time. "Let's go through the changes you've gone through since coming here. Start from when you regained consciousness after the incident so we can chart your progress from then, to now."
The girls swallows hard and takes a deep breath. The rabbit hole in which she'd been instructed to go down was long and dark, filled with treacherous obstacles and terrifying memories. But she wants to be better, needs to be better. So, with hesitation in her voice she takes the step into the abyss.
"I didn't remember doing the things they said I did. The morning was just a... fog. They found me passed out in the library. I woke up in a hospital, strapped to the bed with cops everywhere. I spent that night in jail. No one came to see me except a psychiatrist. He wanted to know why I did it. What made me snap. I couldn't tell him because I didn't know. But the thing is, after it happened, I felt... better. I didn't feel the anxiety and I wasn't paranoid. At the time, I didn't know it was just because my powers manifesting was messing with my mind, I just thought I was... broken."
The girl wipes a tear from her cheek with the sleeve of her olive green sweater and clears her throat. The memories are a bitter pill to swallow but she understands she can't run from them any longer. She accepts a box of tissues and uses one to dab at her eyes before composing herself and continuing.
"The recruiter came the next day. He was really nice. He told me what had really happened and what I was. I remember crying when he told me about Bellefonte and that I would be leaving. I didn't know if I was sad or relieved. But he also told me I couldn't just disappear. That I was too visible to just leave, so I had to go to trial. They made it go as quickly as possible but it was still horrible. I had to look at the families of the people I hurt. I had to listen as parents described their children that I had taken from them. There was even the pregnant wife of a teacher."
She trails of, unable to continue under the heavy weight of the memories. She recalls the horrible things said to her during the course of the trial. But she's nothing if not resilient and, after a long moment of silence where she goes through a number of tissues, she's ready to push forward with her story.
"I was alone. The recruiter was the only one on my side. Everyone else, even my family, looked at me like I was a monster. Some were even upset when my sentence came down. Life imprisonment starting with a maximum security mental institute and ending in prison, if I ever became fit to leave there. It was all a lie. I was brought to Bellefonte instead. They covered up it all up. Let everyone think it was a school shooting and not some girl rampaging around with magnetic powers. I've never even held a gun, but that's what the news all said. My record was cleared, my identity changed. My name isn't Ashley Benson. But I'm not allowed to tell anyone that. I'm not allowed to tell anyone I'm not from Illinois." The girls gives a weak laugh. "I don't know why they chose Chicago, but, that's where I'm from now, I guess." Her face grows sober once more as she nods faintly. "It was for the best. My family did everything they could to disconnect themselves from me. No one wants to be known as the parents of a murderer. They even changed their last name and moved. That was the last I'd heard of them."
Another pause as the girl lets that part of her story sink in. She plucks another tissue from the box and wipes at her eyes. The tears had been flowing steadily as she spoke. The years hadn't eased the pain and burden her memories carried.
"Tell me about your time here at the Academy." The disembodied voice says. This causes the girl to nod and take another deep breath. At least this part of the story promised to be easier.
"It's better than spending my life in prison or an asylum." The girls says outright with little humor in her voice. "I still don't... have any friends. I keep to myself and prefer to be alone. I like animals, though. They let me get a cat so, it's not so bad. Reggie keeps me company and, really, I don't get lonely. I do alright in class, but I still don't think anyone realizes I'm there. Which is fine with me. I've gotten enough attention in my life. As for my... condition, it's gotten better. I'm on a host of medication, most of which I'm also not allowed to talk about. I can imagine what the other kids in the school would think if they knew the girl who sat next to them in English was taking an anti-psychotic so she wouldn't hear voices. I still have... episodes but they're not as bad as before. I haven't hurt anyone or myself since I've been here, so, that's good. I'm still not allowed to leave campus without an escort and even then I have to request it days in advance so I don't bother. I haven't been outside of the Academy in almost two years."
There was a pause as the councilor processed this information and scribbled down a few notes. "How has the development of your mutant abilities come along since then?" The voice asked. The girl hesitates a moment before reaching a hand up over the desk. Three paper clips drift through the air and begin swirling in slow, lazy loops around her fingers.
"I used to hate it. I used to blame it for what I did.” She says, her eyes watching the small objects as they dance through the air. “But I've gotten used to it and it's coming a lot easier now. I'm nowhere near where I could or should be, but that's fine. It took me a while before I could actually start training so I'm behind. I like it though. It's part of who I am now.”
There is another pause as the girl, who now seems to have a faint smile touching her lips awaits the next question. A question doesn't come, however, but a suggestion.
“I think you've made great strides since you first came here.” The professional, yet soft and comforting voice of the councilor says from off camera. “I would wager you're ready to take the next step in your treatment. I want you to try and integrate yourself with the rest of the students here. Try and make a friend or two. See what happens.”
The girl stares at her councilor like a deer caught in a speeding truck's headlights. “I... I don't know how.” She says as the paper clips clatter to the desktop. “Between the medication, the hallucinations, and everything I don't know where all that ends and I begin.”
“I know.” Comes the curt, but understanding reply. “I'm not going to tell you it's going to be easy, but you can do it. I want you to take this list of available clubs for the Academy and choose one to join. Try and get active in something. See where it leads. You never know. You might surprise yourself.”
The girl accepts the slip of paper with the various clubs offered by the Academy printed on it and scrutinizes it skeptically. In the end, she gives a resigned nod.
“Okay. I'll see what I can do.”
SAMPLE: I refuse to parade myself around in pretty clothing just for you.
USERNAME: Bards
AGE GROUP: Just give me my damn senior discount.
EXPERIENCE: Too long
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