Jennifer Rory Jameson
May 23, 2011 5:01:41 GMT -5
Post by Jennifer Jameson on May 23, 2011 5:01:41 GMT -5
The easy S T U F F . . .Name: Jennifer Rory Jameson
Nickname: Kiddo, JJ, Jen, Rory, Light
Age: seventeen
Member Group: StudentPower(s): Energy manipulation/energy force fields in the future
Play By:Ellen PageLet it F L O W . . .So far I count to seventeen…
My first year:
I’m not so sure I could even tell you I remember most of it, just of lot crawling and spitting. I had blue elephant that absolutely terrified me. Why is it that parents always think multi-colored animals are cute? It’s completely deranged and sick to a point where I could picture myself arguing the true color of a zebra. It’s purple!” I’d say. And then somewhere along that line I’d be labeled as disturbed. Luckily enough that never happened. But a blue elephant?
I’m not sure I even want to talk about that. However, I can tell you I was cute…a screamer but a cute one at that. I liked to move around and was curious about everything, I probably just described everyone’s kid though. Hey, that’s what my dad told me so you can’t blame me.
Two years and still kicking:
My dad told me I started walking and talking, around two. I really liked the world around me. Grass was my favorite, it was always soft and damp. For some reason it made me feel safe. And as soon as I could start walking I always found a way outside. My dad said I used to give him at least a dozen or so heart attacks. I was wild, and liked to run. He said that for some reason I was never happy in their arms, all I wanted to see more. I had a knack for scaring them, it’s not like I ever meant to but I had to touch and explore wherever my eyes wandered. My dad laughed when he had mentioned that part.
Three years of me:
“She just sits there Paul. I mean…is that normal for children her age?” My mom had been on the phone again with my dad. While I still ran and played with other kids, most days I liked to stare up at the light in my room. I’d always cry, I hated being left alone, my dad had told me several times how hard it was to leave me at home sometimes. All the doctors said it was normal for children to go through phases. That day I had been sitting on the floor of my room. My mom had paced back and forth.
“Yes, she’s doing it right now. Why else would I be calling?” She had always obsessed over me growing up to be a normal healthy human being. But there was never anything wrong with me. At least that's what my dad kept telling me. I was slowly learning how to read, and loved working on puzzles. No matter what I did though, she was never pleased with anything. I had to outdo all the other kids my age. Every time he mentioned this, I could tell it made him upset. My dad was uncomfortable talking about my mom, but every kid likes to know what they were like growing up.
Four and I’m normal:
This was a time when things around the house started to shake. I was a year away from kindergarten and my mom was trying to push every piece of information she could into my brain.
“She’s exhausted from all these mindless games. I think you need to give her a break and let her just be a kid.” Tension would slowly rise but I tried to focus on eating ice cream, or looking through picture books that my mom liked to confiscate. “Mindless! Is that what you think this all is? I just want what is best for her.”
“She’s four years old!” Usually it would just escalate from here until I’d start to cry again. My dad always cared about me, he didn't like this story much. He never liked to see me crying, but it was a fight among mnay or at least that's what he said. I think he remembered this incidient the most because of how young I was, and how ridiculous my mom had been. Even though I'm much older now, I could tell he was fighting for me even then, my dad never had to tel me this.
Five toes:
I had a serious problem at this age, for some reason I couldn’t stand wearing shoes. They were miniature prisons and all I wanted to do was run through the grass and mud. My dad said that I would run around and he'd have to catch me. But unlike him, the Teachers weren’t a fan of that sort of thing. He once laughed as though remembering every second of that year, he even said they tried to teach me how to be quiet and pay attention, but I liked making noise. He also had said that I was fierce and wild. Nobody could contain my spirit.
I wish I could've met my five year old self, I think I would've been really proud. From all the stories I gathered, she was a much different person than who I am today.
Only six:
This was the year that I decided I wouldn’t grow up. Who wants to do that? I was going through a new stage and I loved every second of it. I tried to test my teacher’s limits every day, and all my classmates giggled secretly. Making friends could be easy if you had the right attitude. Well maybe mine wasn’t the right one, but it worked.
“Jennifer stop that this instant.” The teacher had looked up from her book and watched me with those eyes. I hated them, they reminded me of some kind of evil bird. “Stop what?” I knew I was asking for it, and my mom wouldn’t be pleased. But I knew my dad would laugh, he always called me his troublemaker. “You know what. Stop tapping that pen against the desk and get back to work.” My mom couldn’t argue that I never did my homework. I was a bright student, but my teacher thought I was wasting my talents. “Work on what I’m done.”
Apparently the teachers never liked the truth when it came from a six year old. We were all supposed to be mindless robots that walked around with antennas poking up out of our skulls.
Seven days of the week:
I started talking back more, maybe I just hoped that it meant more time with my dad. He was a journalist and was constantly busy working on stories. Sometimes he even had to travel far away. When I was younger, he had started out by writing columns in the newspaper. It was mainly freestyle and he often was known for writing articles about me. It had been a hit, people found them to be hilarious and interesting. Sometimes it even relieved other parents of their worries about their own children developing. But he had slowly climbed the ladder and was doing what he loved. I think it was always a dream of his, when I was seven he’d often show me pictures of places he wanted to see. He always had a soft spot for kids. “You’re wasting your time chasing after stories. You should be here and find something more productive with your time.” That’s what my mom thought about his work.
Eight is my bedtime:
I always argued about going to bed, I hated sleeping alone in the darkness. For me it was all about absorbing the light, and feeling it against my skin. But my mom forced the issue, she wasn’t a morning person and needed the rest. She was some kind of consultant, but I was never really sure what for. I never talked about her work, but she could manage the job from home. The only time she was ever at work was during the day when I had school. She felt that it was meaningful and always she was in control. “Beth you can’t control everything.” That’s what my dad would tell her some nights when she was upset. Things always had to go her way. I never really could understand.
Only a cat has nine lives:
This year was almost as terrifying as my blue elephant, I was actually forced to take up playing some kind of instrument. I had already been tortured with having a recorder, but that couldn’t be helped. As it turned out, everyone in Washington DC had played one at some point. I tried it once and hated it almost immediately. The same day I had thrown it across the floor and my teacher had sent me to pick up garbage for the remainder of the day. “I’m not playing that thing, it looks just like that stupid recorder.” It was another crazy thing my mom had insisted on. I wanted to play soccer or learn neat magic tricks, but my mom had yelled at my dad for that one. “It is not stupid and you will play it, and Jennifer I swear if you throw it across the room you will be grounded.” Her threats didn’t matter, I felt grounded every second of my life.
Ten isn’t good enough:
Here was the point where I actually started acting out more, I challenged my mom when I shouldn’t have. Our fights could rage on for a full week, she never liked who I was. My hair was never good enough, I wore all the wrong clothes, and I wasn’t acting like a proper lady. But I didn’t care, I had ditched the recorder and learned how to play the guitar. I loved video games and hanging out as one of the guys. I was more blunt, and spent weekends with my dad going to games when he was home. But I’ll never forget my one mistake.
“You will stay away from them do you understand?” I honestly didn’t. One of my older friends was different. I always knew she was. She was cool and had piercings at the age of thirteen. So desperately I had wanted one to match, she was even going to get a tattoo when she was sixteen. I wanted to be her. My band shirts and ripped jeans were no longer enough. I was young and rebellious, I was living my life.
For some reason I thought that maybe she was just a bad influence. “I already said I wouldn’t get a piercing without your permission okay!” That’s what had seemed like the problem but I was wrong. This girl was different in more ways than I could’ve imagined. “We are not going to discuss this any further.” She had stormed out and left me confused. I didn’t know she was a meta human at the time. My dad had tried to reason with my mom, it seemed like he had known what was going on all along, but he didn’t see a problem with it.
Eleven is change:
Remember that whole light thing I mentioned, well I started feeling something very similar to it. As though I had energy flowing through me all the time. I imagined myself as a light bulb, and that year for Halloween I even wanted to be one.
“I’m going to be a light bulb for Halloween.” I had announced it at the top of the stairs. My dad had been walking by proofing a piece of his. “Well is that so kiddo? Hmmm…my JJ a light bulb…I like it.” His grin made me smile too. He always supported everything. Then of course there was my mom, I aligned her with the evil blue elephant. That had been her idea all along. He had wanted to get me a spider monkey toy instead. “We already agreed you would be going as a ballet dancer Jennifer. Don’t be ridiculous, nobody is going to understand a bizarre costume like that.”
This of course started another argument about it being my decision. That entire time I stared at the necklace my dad had around his neck to distract me. It was a clear marble that had a streak of color running through it. In the sunlight it flashed a dazzling gold, I usually stared at it to focus on something other than their yelling. It hung on a leather chord and came with a story. Once when I was a baby I had gotten into his marble collection. That very marble was the same one I almost chocked on, for some reason he kept it with him always. It reminded him of so many struggles. I left the room, I was not going to dress as some stupid dancer.
Twelve now:
Nothing really significant happened, I started to feel more out of place but I could never give a specific reason. I desperately wanted to go with my dad and travel with him, but he said I needed to stay home. But I was scared of being left alone with my mom all the time.
Thirteen is for the superstitious:
Did I ever mention that my mom was paranoid about a lot of things. Well she was. She even believed in all that unlucky crap. She hated black cats, and walking under ladders. I think she had some serious problems, but I only made them worse.
One day, I experienced pain in my body, i was feeling warm and developed a fever. It had started when I got into another fight with my mom over something stupid. My anger was taking over and I began to feel strange. As if my energy was twisting around inside. But I couldn't voice this out loud. Finally my mom took me to the doctors, but I was so afraid when they needed to draw blood that I created energy blasts and destroyed a single room. I was like one serious ticking time bomb. It was clear to everyone in that moment just what I was. All I wanted to do was run, but I was so tired and hungry. In that moment I collapsed. Let me tell you it was a lot like being on years old. I dreamed in light, everything around me was warm and light. My body felt numb. When I woke up, a face was looking at me.
“Who are you? If you’re a doctor then I will seriously try to kick your butt if you even consider poking me with a needle.” It turned out they worked at a school for people just like me. I was considered dangerous and in need of some serious training.
Fourteen days:
That’s how long it took me to really get used to the idea I was a meta human. It took my mom even longer.
“That thing isn’t my daughter!” I was fourteen and stuck in a place that was far away from home. But what I didn’t realize was that I didn’t have a home to go back to. My mom wanted nothing to do with me. In her eyes I was some kind of mutant freak. My dad on the other hand fully supported me and often sent post cards. I talked on the phone with him once a week to keep him updated. And right before my fifteenth birthday he sent me a leather chord with my own marble attached. This one flashed silver in the light.
Fifteen attempts:
I tried to run away fifteen times, I really hated it there. I was scared out of my mind. Even though it had been a year, I couldn’t control anything. My body always felt weak, and no matter how hard I tried nothing seemed to be helping me. I was always hungry and lightheaded walking from class to class. My attitude changed to a broody teenager. I was low on sleep as well. My long dark hair had grown out and one morning I even cut it. After that I never let it get longer than shoulder length. My dark brown eyes often hid underneath my hooded sweatshirts. My style remained the same, I loved band shirts and ripped jeans. Converses were the only shoes I would wear. Always I tried to leave and be with my dad, but the people running this join were always one step ahead of me. It was true, they were just too good at their job.
Sixteen is me now:
I was still rebellious and wild, but in a new and different way. I deliberately tried to get kicked out. I skipped classes and argued with the adults. I stopped letting my fear show. Instead I lived behind some mask. When sleeping I had nothing but night terrors and often woke up finding pieces of furniture shattered from my blasts. The only thing I had learned, was how to make my hands glow like a flashlight. I was told I could maybe learn how to do other things. I wasn’t sure of the extent of my own abilities. I’d once heard in class that maybe I could use the energy around me to make a force field, or even convert energy into something else.
Seventeen and now:
I still walk around avoiding people, my abilities are out of control. I wish I could say that it’s totally awesome to have some kind of super power or mutant ability but it’s not. All the time I have to be careful, I’ve found that my moods have a way of triggering it like fear or anger. And when that happens I lose my own energy. So I’m hard to deal with, I’m more sarcastic now than I’ve ever been. The only person who gets me is my dad, and he’s in the middle of a divorce with my mom. Though I don’t really call her that. I’m supposed to find something to help me focus on, but I’m all alone in this. The people here must be out of their minds. There’s no hope for someone like me, I’ll hurt more people than I can help them and that’s a fact.Behind the M A S K . . .Name: ReeAge: almost twenty
RP Experience: two yearsHow did you find us?:Caution AdShow your S K I L L S . . .“Hey kiddo it’s time to get up, I thought I was going to teach you how to properly catch a baseball today. And none of that freeform stuff.” JJ opened her eyes and looked at her dad who was sitting at the edge of her bed, he was smiling and was already dressed. A ball cap was placed on his head and she knew it was the one she had given him for his birthday. Beside him were two gloves, one was old and worn while the other was still somewhat new. JJ was still working on breaking it in, “Ok I’m up. I surrender.” She could hear him laugh and slowly she pushed herself up into a sitting position. She couldn’t wait to get outside. Her mom had been making her study every day and the house was getting to be too much.
Outside in the grass JJ ran to the other end and waited for her dad to throw. As he pitched the ball, JJ ran forward trying to catch it but the sun was blinding her. It began to heat up and suddenly she felt as though it was pulling her towards it like a magnet. She tried to scream and kick out her feet but to no avail. She was leaving the ground far behind, JJ only wanted to stay though. She didn’t want to leave just yet. The light swept around her and prickled her skin, JJ woke up yelling. It had all been a dream. It was always a dream. Her palms were on fire and as her eyes snapped open JJ released one solid beam into the air.
It cut across the room destroying another table, the vase upon it shattered and pieces flew everywhere. Her body was still in shock but Jennifer tried to control her beams of light as they danced across the room. Below her she could hear feet pounding up to her room. This had become a regular occurrence. If only she wasn’t a meta human, maybe she’d be back in her bed again where it was safe. Finally when she had calmed down, she buried her face in the sheets. All JJ wanted to do was scream. “I just want to go home.” But she barely whispered this out loud.
