S o l X FoldєdPapєrHєarts

[t i r e d.]

This is a 1x1 for uh, Paper and I only. So please, no posting if you aren't either of us.

The scent of war is in the air, and China is on the verge of attacking. Nuclear weapons are no longer enough, and disease warfare has proved highly unstable once the disease evolves. So the government turns to other forms of weapons, decides to perfect what secret agencies around the world has strived to develop.

They start the Genetic Mutation Project.
It's a strictly hush-hush project, very few people know about it even in the upper reaches of the government, and the two test subject are kept under close surveillance.
However.
Mutations develop quickly, and the subject's powers may end up spiraling out of even their own control.

Code: Select all

Rolєplay form:

[b]Fuℓℓ Namє ::[/b]
[b]Gєnder ::[/b]
[b]Agє ::[/b]
[b]Nicknamє {Optional} :: [/b]

[b]Hєight ::[/b]
[b]Wєight ::[/b]
[b]Eyє Coℓor ::[/b]
[b]Hair Coℓor ::[/b]
[b]Distinctivє Charactєristics ::[/b]
[b]Picturє ::[/b]

[b]Pєrsonaℓity ::[/b]

[b]History {Optionaℓ} ::[/b]

[b]Abiℓitiєs or 'Abnormaℓitiєs' ::[/b]

[b]Othєr Information :: [/b]


Heart's Char:

Sol's Char:
Rolєplay form:

Fuℓℓ Namє ::
Solange Alairis Andreasson
Gєnder ::
Female
Agє ::
17 years and 3 months
Nicknamє {Optional} ::
She has none. She goes only by Solange.

Hєight ::
5"4
Wєight ::
118 pds
Eyє Coℓor ::
A light gray with small streaks of a dull blue.
Hair Coℓor ::
A dark auburn that pushed how natural natural hair looked.
Distinctivє Charactєristics ::
Her hair falls over her shoulders, ending around the edge of her ribs.
She's naturally pale, and growing up in the government facilities hasn't exactly helped her tan.
Picturє ::


Pєrsonaℓity ::
She's naturally rebellious in a way that often causes trouble for her peers. When she was young, she decided to refuse eating the meat she was given for her meals because she'd found out it had come from living things, and she was doing her best to refuse using her power.
She has a talent for disappearing that isn't entire linked to her power. Often she can escape just as well using her talent as she can using her power.
Solange has a rather apathetic view towards other people. Unless she thinks she can use you for something, you are of little to no importance, or you are a threat.
She's gotten into a few scuffles with government employees when they tried to make her do things that didn't make sense to her, but she wasn't exactly good in a fight. She lacked the instinct good fighters have for another person's weakness, she'd rather just run if possible. However, sometimes the only way she can get her point across is by launching herself at someone.

History {Optionaℓ} ::

Abiℓitiєs or 'Abnormaℓitiєs' ::
She can transport to anywhere in a 20 foot radius, unless she would have to pass through a solid object. Walls can slow her down, and if they're too thick, she won't be able to make it through them. She can carry small objects with her, and if she really concentrates, possibly even another person.
Lately it seems as if her own skin will disappear for a moment, leaving her invisible, but she can't be sure if this is her power or something the employees were feeding her.

Othєr Information ::

[FoldєdPapєrHєarts]

"It was sad, rєally, that bєing a frєak was the only rєason hє was still alivє..."

Rolєplay form:
Fuℓℓ Namє :: Simon James Truen
Gєnder :: Male
Agє :: Seventeen
Nicknamє :: Occasionally S.J.

Hєight :: Five-Eleven
Wєight :: One Hundred & Thirty-Five pounds.
Eyє Coℓor :: Blue-green
Hair Coℓor :: Brown
Distinctivє Charactєristics :: Dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. - Not really distinctive, but he hates his freckles.
Picturє :: <--

Pєrsonaℓity :: Simon was outgoing, curious, and naive, when he was younger. He had been an arrogant lad, because his family had more money than some of the other families during the war, due to his parents' professions. He'd loved to play outside, run around in the forests, and occassionally get into trouble. He'd wanted to see the world, do his part for his country, and do something meaningful with his life.
When Simon was captured, however, he began to change. The brightness in his eyes died, and he lost hope of ever doing anything in his life. He was told that, in fact, he was helping people, he was helping them learn and discover. But that wasn't how he had wanted to help, not at all. He soon began to rarely talk, and became a shell of his old, bright self.

History {Optionaℓ} :: Simon had loved to sneak off with his father's camera, who had been a photographer for the war effort, and play around with it. He would go near abandoned building, or buildings that he was not to go near, and try and take pictures of them. It was not until the day he went near a large, white building very far off from society that he had never seen before that his life changed.
A man had come up behind him, and had asked why he was taking pictures. He'd had a strange accent, and Simon had quietly replied that he was just playing around, he didn't mean anything by it. But it was no use; it happened quickly, and when Simon woke up, he was strapped to a table with about a dozen needles inside of him.

Abiℓitiєs or 'Abnormaℓitiєs' ::
Primary Ability :: Empathy, with slight mental projection - The ability to read or sense the emotions and/or control the emotions or feelings of others. { When Simon chooses too, he can project either his, or someone else's emotions into reality, and can also read and control the emotions of others. It is very mentally and physically draining, however, to project the emotions into reality. }

Secondary Ability :: Enhanced Memory - The ability to quickly absorb and accurately retain great amounts of information. { Simon is still working on this ability, and is not yet as skilled at it, but when given something to read or look at, he can memorize it within a few moments. Similar to a 'photographic memory' Get it? 'Photographic', playing with a camera..eh, eh? He can also remember small bits of information heard in passing. }

Othєr Information :: N|A

[t i r e d.]

{Poor Solange seems a bit bland now >.> Ah well. Would you like for me to start?}

[FoldєdPapєrHєarts]

(( Noo, I like her! :] And yes, you can start. C: ))

[t i r e d.]

Solange Alairis Andreasson
The bland, uniformed men entered her room, several armed with tasers that could take down a small elephant. It was always like this, she was always the one that was considered a dangerous monster, although she didn't lock people in rooms that were little more than glorified cages. Her stormy eyes glared at the large man that approached her and held out his hand. She sat with her back to the corner of the room, it's padded walls pressing against her back, her folded arms perched on her knees.
She was tempted to transport behind the man, but she'd learned well that no one liked surprises where she was involved. She ignored the proffered hand though, instead using the plush wall to keep her balance as she stood. She'd started out in a room with metal walls that echoed when you kicked them, but eventually they'd decided she "was a threat to herself and best kept is a secure, harmless environment" because these people obviously knew the best way to treat a girl. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a slender hand, marching in front of the officer until she stood with only two adrenaline pumped brutes and 2 inch thick metal doors between her and the sterile hallway. The steely eye of the guy on her right was obviously trying to burn a hole through her as he stepped aside. Sighing, Solange brought her chin up and drew her hands behind her, wrists crossed. A click sounded as metal handcuffs secured her hands. The man behind her grabbed the metal, and the man on her left opened the doors. She was marched outside, into a covered area that they used to let her stretch her legs. From the constant odor, it had probably been a gym before. She kept her back stiff as they released her and backed away. She couldn't be alone out here, but she was allowed a little space, and sometimes other people would be out here too. She wasn't sure if they were people like her, they only stared blankly at her when she tried to talk, but she continued to try to get a story out of one.

[FoldєdPapєrHєarts]

Simon James Truen

Simon stared blankly at the wall opposite him, his eyes half closed. He heard voices on the other side of his metal door, and the tell-tale sound of jangling keys, then the turn of a lock. Simon barely acknowledged the two men who entered his room - giving them a single, quick disgusted look was enough, it seemed. One was a sturdy, rough-looking kind of monster, while the other was smaller, but still had a good bit of muscle to him. He was unsure if he was supposed to be intimidated by them, or not; either way, he wasn't in the slightest. He had heard them talking, before; he'd snuck quick glances at his file, before, while it lay open on the table beside him. Apparently, he wasn't considered dangerous in the slightest, but he was considered more confusing than anything. They knew he was intelligent, and that he had potential, but they were quite perplexed as to why he didn't seem to want to put any of it to use. He was a shell, according to them. Well, what they didn't seem to comprehend was that it was easiest for him to control his emotions when he acted as a 'shell'. If he let his emotions run wild, thing would get out of hand very, very quickly.

Since he wasn't 'dangerous' by their standards, they didn't seem to feel the need to bring in every single muscle-head at their disposal to come take him to whatever was planned for today. With a nod and a grunt, the larger of the two men gestured with his taser-like gun towards Simon, who sighed in a dramatic way and stood up, taking his good time while doing so. They were in a hurry though, apparently, for while Simon was moving as slowly as he could just to irritate him, the gun was shoved into the middle of his spine, knocking him forward slightly. The atmosphere in the room changed for a small moment, becoming noticeably static and tense, but Simon took a breath and did nothing more aside from placing his hands behind his back. The familiar sound of metal handcuffs beind clicked aorund his wrists made the brown-haired boy scowl, but he continued to say nothing.

Within a few minutes, he was being pushed outside into an odd-smelling area. He blinked as rays of sunlight hit his eyes, and his nose crinkled when he got an even better smell of the area. Fantastic, he thought bitterly, his eyes now narrowed into slits. Looking around, and adjusting the handcuffs on his wrists just a bit, he noticed only one other figure in the area today. A small, slender girl with long, auburn hair stood across from him, her wrists held back as well. Well, this could certainly be interesting.

[t i r e d.]

Solange Alairis Andreasson
The doors thudded open and shut, and more muscleheads -smaller than the ones she'd had since she'd had herself labelled as a threat- brought in a slim boy, around half a foot taller than her. She didn't even try and pretend she wasn't staring when he walked in, she'd never learned it was rude, and even if she had, she probably wouldn't have cared. The boy looked open, inviting, someone that would walk up to you for the first time and make you feel as if you had known him for years... until you saw his eyes. The freckles that littered his face below them should have made his eyes seem more cheerful, but instead they just contrasted with the walls that were so visible in place behind his eyes.

Solange wasn't about to be put off by that, however. She herself was an open book, you could always tell how she felt about something, it was written plain as day on her face. Instead of walking, Solange teleported to stand in front of the boy. She cast a glance at the hired muscle guarding the door. It hadn't gone unnoticed that she used her power, but she was supposed to be "using and developing her power" so that she could "save millions of innocent human lives". As if she wasn't human herself.

"Hi, I'm Solange. Welcome to Hell." She spoke bluntly, a sarcastic look on her face. "I would offer you my hand, but.." she let the sentence trail off and shrugged a single slim shoulder.

[FoldєdPapєrHєarts]

Simon James Truen

The girl was staring at him. It was plain to see, and she wasn't trying to hide it, either. Simon was about to look away, to break the eye contact between them, when his head snapped back up again. The girl was standing not a few in front of him, now. She hadn't even made a sound. Taking a small, surprised step back, Simon's blue-green eyes were wide with shock. He opened his mouth, but closed once more a moment later, a knowing look crossing his features.
Ah, so there really were others like him. He'd heard them talking, the scientists, in the hallways before. They'd talked about the two main subjects, and he knew he was one of them. Apparently, this girl standing boldly in front of him was the other one.

She didn't seem openly hostile, as others he had seen around. They had never appeared 'different', though; just normal people who had been dragged in this hole. Regretfully, he rarely saw the same face twice, and Simon was smart enough to know what that must mean. Human lives were things easily wasted here, it seemed.

When the girl spoke, however, was when Simon really had a shock. He hadn't heard someone here attempt to have a normal conversation in a long, long time. Those who did soon after either disappeared, or stopped talking all together. "Solange," Simon repeated, his throat slightly hoarse from lack of use. He didn't like to talk, nor did he have anyone to talk to anyway. "I'm Simon," he added, almost as an afterthought. When she made the small remark about her hand, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, but he made no other sign he had heard. "You're 'different', aren't you? That's how you did...that," he offered instead, his expression both curious and eager. He had never encountered someone like him before, and was even more interested now than he had ever been before.

[t i r e d.]

Solange Alairis Andreasson
"Different?" A dangerous light lit up in her smoky eyes and a smile spread across her lips. "Why, I'm the same as I've always been." Solange shifted her weight to one leg so that the opposite knee could bend at an angle and crossed her arms. Her head tilted to the side as she looked up at him. He really was to tall for someone her size to talk to comfortably. She felt like a petulant child gazing up at an older brother. She sighed at the analogy. Why did she do this to herself? She knew what family was, in theory, but she couldn't really understand what it would be like to look up at a brother, she'd never had the chance. You kind of needed a family for that. She turned her attention away from her thoughts before she started crying or something equally embarassing.

"But what about you? You're different. You must be. For one, you're here. And you're alive. And you have your own watchdogs, just like me." she tilted her head at the watching men. They'd be getting restless soon, be worried that the metaphorical leash they had around her neck wasn't buckled quite tight enough. Conspiratorially, she leaned forward, her vivid hair falling over her shoulders to frame her face. "Want to get out?" The rebellious light was back in her eyes, her lips tilted even further upward. She doubted that they could actually manage to escape, but the thrill would be well worth it. She hadn't done anything to exercise the hired muscle in awhile, and she couldn't let them get too soft, or life in the facility might become bearable.

She would have tried this a few of the other people she'd seen, if she'd ever been able to get through to them, but once she had sat in her room and really thought about it, it was a horrible idea. The people couldn't here couldn't kill her. She was valuable, an experiment gone horribly right, and they couldn't afford to lose her. Any of the others, however, were expendable. Maybe they knew it. Maybe that's why the light had left their eyes, and they looked relieved when she walked away from them.

[FoldєdPapєrHєarts]

Simon James Truen

A line formed between Simon's furrowed brow as he studied the odd girl in front of him. He had no idea how to respond to that. Well, she wasn't exactly odd, really, but just very different than any of the other people here. For one, she was actually talking. Which, come to think of it, was actually a rather nice change. He looked her over, his curiosity and confusion growing; she was rather short, and he had to tilt his head to look at her, just as she had to tilt her head back to look at him. In any other place and setting, it would have been comical.

When the girl commented that he must be different too, he smiled in a bitter way - it was the first time he had smiled in ages, really, aside from small sneers or sarcastic smiles. She had a point, though; everyone knew, after a few days of being here, the purpose of this horrid place. It was staying alive that was the hard part. One simply had to pray to whatever they chose that they would not become a failed experiment. Or, in other words, expendable. "Yes, I'm different too, unfortunately," he muttered, but not in a happy sort of way at all. His tone was more of a bitter, regretful one. He gave no indication about how he was different, however, and simply pursed his lips in a thoughtful sort of way.
He had been told, many times, to practice his 'abilities', as they called them. So that way, when the time came, he could save thousands of lives. Or something like that. He was nothing but a tool to them. But he didn't want to practice, or use them at all, really. Most of the time, he could not help but detect other's emotions, however. People like the girl in front of him, who were bursting with about a dozen different emotions, drew him towards them like magnets. He had tried to control the feelings of his captors before, to try and 'convince' them to ease up, but with drastic results, and since then he had been very hesitant to use his 'abilities'.

It was not until she leaned close to him, her hair framing her face like a curtain so that only he could see her lips, that Simon was brought back to reality. When she whispered softly to him, asking him if he wanted to get out, he looked at her with a confused expression. "What kind of question is that? There's no hope of that, whatsoever," he muttered. The walls were back up in his eyes, it seemed, giving him a rather somber look.