![](http://i.imgur.com/MnVP6Eh.png" "source: imgur.com")
Post by Isaac Monroe on May 17, 2015 15:51:45 GMT -6
Isaac Monroe
FACE CLAIM: Chace Crawford
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AGE: 19
GENDER: Male
ORIENTATION: Heterosexual
POSITION: Student
POWER: Biokinesis
Biokinesis is also known as 'genetic restructuring' or 'reactive adaptation'. With this power, Isaac's body is constantly in a state of genetic flux as it reacts to even the smallest of outside stimuli. With this power he's able to withstand many environmental obstacles. Among the most notable applications of this mutation is Isaac's ability to withstand temperature extremes, as his body will adapt to the heat or cold on a genetic level, causing internal body temperature to raise or lower as needed. This staves off the effects of such conditions as frostbite or heat stroke.
The internal working of Isaac's body are also constantly being altered and adapting. As such, his biological functions are enhanced when necessary. If food or water becomes scarce he's able to survive on a diet of nearly negligible caloric intake and has even shown the capacity to go days without water. Furthermore, when injured Isaac's body adjusts accordingly to offer him a marginally faster recovery time from minor to moderate injuries. Blood coagulates faster, cell reproduction is hastened, and concentrated endorphins flood his system to negate the effects of all but the most excruciating pain.
Diseases and illnesses usually filter through his body within a matter of days, depending on their severity. A simple cold usually takes less than 24 hours to rid himself of while pneumonia or something equally severe could take three or four days. Diseases like hepatitis or tuberculosis could take up to a week or more.
The power also extends to his physical attributes. Danger, or the 'flight or fight' (mostly 'fight') instinct can moderately enhance his strength, agility, or reaction times. He's been known to jump higher, hit harder, or move faster than normal when under duress. The most common trigger of this aspect of the power remained the threat of physical violence.
LIMITATIONS:
- The power only seems to affect his biochemistry, and not his physical form. He cannot manifest gills if drowning (although he could hold his breath for significantly longer than the norm), nor could he sprout wings if falling.
- The power can be 'overloaded' if attempting to adapt to more than a handful of moderate to extreme stimuli. If multiple problems arise (being in a fight to the death while on hardly any food or sleep in the middle of the Arctic Circle, for an extreme example), his body will select what are deemed the two most vital systems to his survival and forego the rest.
- While his ability to adapt to his environment could be called 'superhuman' the enhancements to his own physical attributes can not push past human limits. Even as such, the 'boosts' approach those of a moderate professional athlete and don't even approach the human prime.
- Applications of this mutation are temporary and must be 'restarted' with each exposure to whatever stimuli triggers the adaptation.
- Isaac has no conscious influence over his mutation. His body simple reacts and adapts as it sees fit. All manner of training and power manipulation has been ineffectual at affording him any sort of control.
SIDE-EFFECTS:
- The most pressing side effect of this mutation is the toll the constant adaptation of his biochemical processes takes on his body. As a result, Isaac is prone to episodes wherein his central nervous system, for lack of a better term, 'glitches'. These episodes have ranged in severity from a simple wave of dizziness that clears up within moments, all the way to vertigo, nausea, vomiting, nose bleeds, migraines, loss of vision, loss of motor function, loss of hearing and black outs. The most extreme of these require hospitalization. There is no pattern, no rhyme or reason. He usually is hit with at least two episodes of varying severity per week. They are random and there is nothing he can to to manage or lessen their effects or frequency.
- As the central nervous system is put under extreme duress at nearly all hours of the day and night, it's slowly beginning to erode. Doctors have labelled Isaac as a ticking time bomb. At any given moment one of his episodes could cause his nervous system to shut down completely resulting in death. As he ages the chances of this happening increases exponentially. Generous estimations have given him to his early to mid 20's until he succumbs to his mutation.
- Extended uses of this power (healing, ridding himself of major illness, disease, etc) cause extreme bouts of fatigue and exhaustion. During periods of sickness he doesn't display the symptoms of his illness, but rather grows sluggish and irritable. This does also include being exposed to weather for long periods of time. If forced to withstand temperature extremes for longer than a 24 hour period, the fatigue sets in.
Go ahead, poke the caged animal.
A low sigh escaped the young man who sat slumped in the cheap, plastic chair of the councilor's office. The Academy official was familiar with this student and would have freely admitted he wasn't pleased to see the dark haired teenager returning to his care. If he'd had his choice the temperamental kid would've been shipped off to God knows where for someone else to deal with all the fights and rebellious outbursts that had defined the boy's three years at Bellefonte. Hell, the kid had probably spent more time on dorm restriction and detention than he had actually going to class.
"I know, I know, I know." Isacc mumbled with a shake of his head and a dismissive wave of a hand. He'd been through this before. All this 'talking about your feelings' bullshit was getting old. Every time he went anywhere there was someone new looking to 'fix' or 'save' him. While he'd calmed down a great deal since he'd first been thrust into a world that wanted him even less than he wanted it, Isaac remained a bitterly reluctant participant in all the games he was forced to play. "You're done trying to play nice and now it's time for 'tough love'." His eyes rolled. "That sound about right?"
Isaac was having none of it. He leaned forward into his chair, dark blue eyes smoldering from behind the swath of brown hair that fall into his face. Before he would field any sort of response, Isaac spoke up again. It was about goddamn time he said what he needed to say and they fucking listened.
"I didn't want this. You all forget that. I was perfectly happy where I was at. It's wasn't a great life, yeah, it fucking sucked but it was my life and I fit there. All this bullshit you've tried throwing at me doesn't work. Do you know why? You know why all your stupid, goddamn fucking games don't work? Because I don't belong here. I don't belong in any of this. You know what's in my file, but you wanna know the truth? I was born in The Jungle, ever heard of it? It's a homeless camp just outside the Silicon Valley in California. I never knew my mother or my father. I was taken in by a Vietnam Vet I only knew as 'Russ'. He taught me everything I needed to know. Taught me how to fight, how to take what I needed and protect what I had. There was no law in The Jungle. No order. Those who could, took. Those who could, survived. That was all there was. Everyone else just had to hold on and hope for the best."
There was a flash of anger in his eyes that made it seem as if Isaac was on a hair trigger. His explosive temper wasn't a secret and he made no attempts to hide it, even now. The worst thing for the hapless councilor was that the teenager wasn't done. Not by a long shot.
"I can still remember when I was little having to hide whenever the cops showed up to do a sweep or came looking for someone. I'd hide inside piles of garbage until someone gave the signal that it was safe to come out. One look at me and they'd haul me off to a life I didn't want or need. It was hard, but not all bad. As fucked up as it may have been, we were family. We looked out for each other. Anyone outside of that couldn't be trusted. When I was eleven that all changed. There was a raid. No one saw it coming. A cop, some rookie by the way he looked like a deer in headlights when he saw me, got hold of me and drug me off. That's how I got the name 'Monroe'. It was given to me by the first foster family I stayed with. That lasted a week."
The councilor went to speak but Isaac's hand shot up and silenced the words before they could escape. He hadn't finished yet and he'd be damned if he was going to let someone interrupt. They caused this. It was damn time he told them why they never should've made him come here.
"I ran away at eleven and just went wherever the hell I wanted. I got picked up every once in a while and put back into the system for a month or so, but I always took off as soon as I could. I stole, begged, dug around in dumpsters. Whatever it took to get by. I had traveling buddies here and there so it wasn't lonely but the streets are an unforgiving animal. It was violent. I saw people beaten to death, stabbed, shot, you name it. Every fucked up thing you can possibly think of was just another day to us. It wasn't until I got busted for being in a brawl when I was sixteen that I found out what I was.
"I don't know when I 'manifested' as you guys call it. I just always did what I could to survive. Some people made it through winter, others didn't. Some could last until the next meal, others couldn't. I always managed. I never thought about how or why. It's just how things worked. After getting checked out by a doctor after getting my arm busted by a pipe, I ended up in a room with a recruiter. He was quick, too. Within two weeks of getting arrested I was being shoved out of the car in front of Bellefonte.
"I'll give you one thing, though. One. Learning more about myself, my mutation, how I fit into the world, how my mutation is fucking me sideways... it's given me a new perspective on things. I get it now. I look around and I see all the other kids walking around and they just know they have a chance, they have a future. I've accepted that I don't. I'm their counter. Someone has to balance out the world, right? It sounds stupid, but damn if I can figure out any other explanation.
"You see, I've figured it all out. I know what I am now and I know why I'll never fit in with any of you. You want to sit there and point your finger, scribble little notes down on your notepad there and make me out to be the one who's broken. You took me from everything I've ever known and threw me in with people that look like me but might as well be a completely different species. You bring me in here and make me wear your uniform, follow your rules, conform to your standards and wonder why I lash out? You take an animal from the wild and put him in a cage with a bunch of domesticated sheep and find out how long it takes before that animal decides he's had enough."
SAMPLE: *just twerks instead*
USERNAME: Bards
AGE GROUP: Old enough
EXPERIENCE: Well, I am to old for this shit...
WHERE DID YOU FIND US? Chosen by the hand of gawd. Or recruited by Mel
