• Metsger, Lydia, Celsius

[Lydia Metsger]

(Posted Image)

`` Metsger, Lydia
INTRODUCING;; Lyds!

FULL NAME: Lydia Bris Metsger
DOB: 12 April 1986
AGE: 23
BIRTHPLACE: Allentown, Pennsylvania
FACTION: Unaffiliated Mutant
OCCUPATION: Jack of all trades, she shifts from job to job for months at a time, because she gets bored of it easily. Last jobs she had were in a grocery store, a laundromat, and a video rental store.
MARITAL STATUS: Single
RELIGIOUS FAITH: Agnostic
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual
CANON OR ORIGINAL: Original

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V U L T I C U L U S .
a p p e a r a n c e

PORTRAYAL: Zooey Deschanel

HEIGHT: 5'9"
WEIGHT: 131 lbs
HAIR COLOUR & STYLE: Dark brown, almost black at times. Bangs are cropped and side swept when she feels like it. She usually keeps her hair at mid-length, down almost all the time save for the rare occasion she pulls it into a ponytail.
EYE COLOUR & SHAPE: Pale blue, rounded.

APPEARANCE: Wouldn't call her average, wouldn't call her pretty. It's all in the eye of the beholder people, really. Barely under six foot, she couldn't stand it that she was declared five foot nine and 9/16ths of an inch. Slim by genetics, she could eat endless amounts of junk and never gain a pound. She hated it. However, she made up for it in muscle, where most of her weight lies. Mostly in her upper arms and also in her legs, for she'd need it for parkour. She isn't well muscled much elsewhere where it'd be significant or anything.

Skin wasn't ghastly pale nor pasty like one would think, considering this woman smoked about a pack a day of Parliaments, but instead it was of a fleshy, healthy peach that made most smokers green with envy from how unaffected by her addiction she really was. Her eye sockets were not sunken, instead there lie a pair of pale blue eyes, flecked with bits of gray here and there, maybe a touch of green if you looked hard enough. But are you really going to look that hard enough? Just to add to her lack of degeneration due to the smoking, she hadn't a wrinkle to her face nor even a trace of yellow to her nails, which contradicted the norm of addicts her age.

Hair was usually a mess, dark brown and sometimes it'd pass for black in the right light. Kept at medium length, it had a natural wave and rhythm to itself, and she refused to tame it and thus why it looks the way it does. Of course she trimmed her bangs, but that was out of necessity. She needed to see of course, and growing her hair out wasn't working too well, thus there was a need for the trimming.

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S U P E R N U S .
t h e x - g e n e & m o r e

TYPE: Chemically triggered.
CLASSIFICATION: (Leave blank. Will be filled in by admin)


MUTATION: In a one word answer, her power is thermokinesis. The power to control the molecular vibrations in the air that generate heat, thus being able to increase or decrease the speed at her will, in turn lowering or raising the temperature as she pleases. Her control span is within a two-mile radius at the moment, and if she concentrates on smaller areas, her control is much stronger, and with practice and training no doubt she'll be able to cover much more mileage, even toying with the idea of being able to control entire parts of cities. Wouldn't that be fun, to mess with the entire temperature of Soho?

In accordance to temperature range, she is currently able to lower the temperature to a brisk ten degrees Fahrenheit, and raise is to a balmy one-hundred thirty degrees Fahrenheit. This is her maximum at the moment, and only applies if she's working in smaller areas. If she were to try and control her maximum distance of two miles, she'd only be able to raise the temperature to about one-hundred ten degrees Fahrenheit, and lower it to twenty-three degrees Fahrenheit. So, it's a balance between her span of control and her amount of control.

In correlation with these temperature drops and raises, certain materials are affected by her power as well as people. She can freeze water, melt ice, affect elasticity of rubbers and the like, make plastics brittle, and make asphalt buckle and crack if she so pleased. But the most sensitive are the people around her. The temperature changes, especially the cold and out of context with the weather forecast, will make people stop in their tracks and start shivering their pants off, give them frostbite, all the trimmings that come with the cold temperatures, and the same goes with the dangers of heat. Heat stroke, hyperthermia, all that jazz.

To keep her own body safe from these effects, her skin has adapted and given her the edge of insulated durability. Her skin has thickened and acts like a shield to the cold and the heat. Let's just say she can stand in the middle of the Antarctic with just a T-shirt and jeans, in the middle of a snowstorm.

WEAKNESSES: There are the normal restraints of space, considering her powers only work within a certain radius, so those outside of the limits will be unaffected. Time is also an issue, considering she can only handle the molecules for a certain amount of time. She's clocked herself at being able to control it for a maximum of eight minutes, which can do a lot or a little depending on the situation. It's not that her stamina is depleted by this time, but if we all remember the second law of thermodynamics, "In a system, a process that occurs will tend to increase the total entropy of the universe." Remember what entropy is, and it is disorder. This chaos, this entropy, can actually harm her, as her control can backfire and she can be physically harmed by the collisions of the molecules. Gashes, bruises, that's all she's experienced as of late. She hasn't tried pushing her limits much, considering she didn't know what she'd be getting into if she did. Bones could be broken, anything like that.

She also has a distinct, irrevocable fear of doctors. Not just for the men with the white coats and stethoscopes, but the whole shebang that came with it. Needles, medicine, hospitals, doctors offices, nurses, anything. She couldn't take a friend to the doctor, she couldn't go to a doctor herself, she can't go visit anyone in the hospital. It's turned into a phobia of hers, really. If she were forced to go into the hospital, first of all she'd explicitly object to going, and second of all she'd be shaking the entire way, like she was going into shock. Third of all, you wouldn't be able to leave her alone or else she try and bust herself out. It was like a prison to her, and frankly she had it in her mind that doctors were going to 'rub her out', so she always stayed away. Even if it wasn't the case.




SKILLS: [LIST]
• parkour- She is a traceur of parkour, and has been for many years. At least since she was sixteen, so that's...seven years now? Parkour, for those who don't know of it, is the art of free-running. You might see people in your city taking part in it. One uses natural obstacles in their way and finds a way over them. Examples would be concrete barricades, walls, cars, fences. It's been a handy tool for her, considering it's saved her from many run-ins with the cops.
• gymnastics/acrobatics- This goes in conjunction with her skills in parkour. She's a self-trained gymnast for the most part. She'd gone to lessons briefly as a child, but stopped when her parents couldn't pay for of their children anymore. But she's practiced what she's learned, looked up other gymnastic moves, practiced them, so basically by now she could pass herself off as semi-professional.
• music- More specifically, singing. Not formally trained, again, unless you count school choir as formal training (and we all should know the extent of a public school teacher's abilities). She was in choir from third grade to eleventh grade, moving back and forth between alto, soprano II, and soprano I. It all depended on the song, really.
• cooking- A skill, if you want to call it one. In the world of TV dinners, instant meals, and fast food, she could still cook a decent meal and it'll be moderately healthy. She usually worked with variations of chicken-based meals and turkey, staying away from meat and fish. She's good at picking up fresh ingredients, so you can always assure yourself that you're getting a good meal if you sit at her table.
• being the sounding board- In short, she is good at letting others vent to her and she won't get angry or take sides. Most of the time. Unless she's being dragged into a fight, you can bet that she's just going to be the one listening, not the one talking. Unless she's asked about her opinion.

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P E R S O N A .
p e r s o n a l i t y

LIKES:
• diner food : Even if she's a decent cook herself, nobody can resist someone else cooking a meal for them, and when it's good old, down to earth diner food, it's like gold to her. Can't avoid it.
• brain teasers : She likes keeping her mind sharp solving brain teasers. 'A cowboy rode into town on Friday, stayed three days, then left on Friday. How come?' Stuff like that.
• cigarettes : Parliaments, more specifically. A horrible addiction, but she didn't care.
• movie quotes : She gets all of her odd little catchphrases from movies, dude.
• puppies : Nobody can resist puppies. Except maybe for other puppies.
• funny music : Just listen to the "Polkamon" and you'll understand. Funny music just gives her such a warm fuzzy giggle.
• people who are smart alicks : This goes hand in hand with sarcasm, so read the next one.
• People who can dish out as much sarcasm as she can : She's a sarcastic little imp herself, so instant bonding action when encountering a fellow sarcasm user!
• people who have extensive vocabularies : Okay so people who have extensive vocabularies just look awesome in her eyes. Indubitably.
• watching spelling bees and rooting for the kid on crutches : Does this need explaining? "I'm putting my money on crutches kid!"
  
  DISLIKES:
• stupid people: People who can't spell things correctly just grind her gears.
• the weak minded: If you can't shoot a guy who killed your friend, just..just...go away.
• old women : Especially the old women who can't speak English, and then give you a blank stare when you don't speak their language, and then walk away talking to their other non-english speaking old lady friend looking like they're talking about you behind your back.
• anti-smoking fanatics : stop telling her that smoking kills. She knows this, and she doesn't care. She's going to die anyway, who cares why?
• classical music : When you've had to deal with classical your entire school career, enough is enough.
• a goody two-shoes : This goes hand in hand with the weak minded.
• burglars : People who try to steal her stuff are going to get shot in the face.
• doctors : This has already been explained.
• severe weather : Tornado warnings scare the crap out of her.
• explosives she hasn't helped rig : She doesn't trust someone else's work.
  
  GENERAL PERSONALITY: Lydia isn't exactly your nice little girl. She doesn't like horses, she doesn't do pink, and she doesn't do nice. She's a sarcastic little smart-alick who will mess with your mind like it's a playskool toy, she'll ruffle your feathers then wait for you to lose it before she strikes. Like someone once told her, "She was a pack of dynamite. a block of C4. A ball of badness all rolled up into an interesting woman. And she was a ton of laughs and chuckles herself and could come up with some real zingers when she wanted to." When she sent out an insult, it usually packed a wallop, I'll tell you!
  
  She's caring when she wants to be, and that's only if you're on her short, short list of friends. Even then, she won't do much, just because she believes she can't. However, she won't leave anyone behind. A bit based on her past maybe, considering what happened and she vowed to herself she wouldn't let it happen again. She wasn't going to let anyone get needles in their arms, tubes down their throats, trachs in to help them breathe. She wasn't going to let a doctor touch anyone she knew ever again.
  
  This also plays into her fearlessness. She has close to absolutely no fear of anything. You name it, she'll probably do one of two things: Laugh and make some kind of sarcastic remark about it, or she'll just brush it off as if it were nothing, like a walk in the park. Thus why she doesn't count nor care how much she smokes, because she doesn't fear dying. Only in the most dire of circumstances, like if many of her group were in danger would her stomach come up into her throat, though that happens rarely. Like, once in a blue moon rarely.
  
  Since her father's passing, instead of taking up therapy she took up parkour, the art of free-running, to help de-stress. Of course she just had to meet the bad crowd of traceurs (those who practice parkour) and they got her into frequent trouble with the law and rival thugs on the street. She's extremely limber and agile, so if she needed to cheese it she could do it no sweat, climbing up buildings and fences like she'd been taught in parkour. Though, when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, she knows how to hold her own. She'd mostly skilled in straight up street fighting, but she's got a bit of real martial arts in there somewhere, dabbling in it from time to time if she didn't get so bored so damn easy.

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P R A E T E R I T U S . P R E T E R I T U S .
h i s t o r y

FAMILY:
- Jacob Metsger, father {deceased}
- Jonna Metsger, mother
- Anna Metsger, sister
- Mimi Metsger, sister

BIOGRAPHY: Lydia was one in a set of triplets, the oldest of the three by a whopping five minutes. Their parents didn't expect to have so many children at one time, and by being so unprepared their first few months were a little rocky. Her father was often sent out late at night because they ran out of diapers or were low on formula and had to buy three cans. However, Mr. Metsger seemed all too willing to help, and simply adored his children, while Mrs. Metsger was more concerned with keeping them alive than caring for them emotionally.

It wasn't that she didn't love them, but she just didn't want all three at the same time and would drain herself if she tried to love them all the same. So, she chose to not do it at all. Kind of like a mean step-mother, only you had to remove the 'step'. She was the disciplinarian, keeping a wooden spoon nearby to thwack her children if they were being unruly. Their father was always the one who they ran to afterwards, and somehow he always made them feel better. The family of five lived this life for many a year, and things grew more calm, the children grew more well-behaved, and slowly their mother was getting closer to them and their personalities.

The triplets had just entered eleventh grade that year, and Lydia's sister Mimi was working on her driver's license so daddy was teaching her on the weekends in the parking lot of the high school. She'd been allowed to drive home one night and right before it was their street to turn the car got side-swiped by an SUV and the entire passenger side was crushed. Both were rushed right to the hospital, and both were placed into intensive care. Their father had gone into a coma, Mimi remained just barely conscious and she started to get better. He, however, was not. The impact of the car had severed his spinal cord and he had received quite a bit of brain damage, and the doctors were giving him a bleak prognosis. Mimi, on the other hand, was to be confined to a wheel-chair for her hip had been broken as well as her right leg, so she was practically in a lower body cast and sent home.

Hours turned into days, days into weeks, and finally their mother Jonna had to make the call, to pull the plug. Lydia chose to stay there for the entire procedure, the plug was pulled, and she watched the little green line finally flatten and turn into nothing. The doctors left and she was alone with her now dead father, hunched over and trying to hold back any kind of emotion. Her fists were clenched and her knuckles whitened while the rest of her body began to shake and the temperature sharply dropped inside the room. Nurses came in complaining it was cold as ice and told Lydia to go get warm, and as soon as she left the temperatures turned back to normal. Everyone blew it off as a kink in the heating system, not even realizing that a mutant had been in the room.

After the ordeal, the tension in the house grew to such astronomical limits, it was to the point that Lydia had threatened to kill her sister herself. Multiple times the two girls were caught throwing punches and just bare-bones fighting. Lydia's grades didn't exactly stay high, she tried to help herself and joined up with a local group of traceurs of Parkour, started to hang out with them but that ended up being a bad decision. There were a bad batch of traceurs that she had gotten buddy buddy with, who ended up being local street thugs and in such a blur, she got taught the art of street fighting, pickpocketing, all the good stuff that came along with the plan. Had a few run-ins with the cops, got let off every time and each time got an earful from her mother until she just could just not stand it anymore. So, when she had enough money and a car, she got the hell out of dodge and moved to the big city.

Her life was mainly quiet for the next some-odd years. She'd moved to New York in a little tiny apartment and worked too many hours just to make ends meet. Of course she found a roommate but because she was so open to using her powers, she ended up scaring them off and not finding anyone to replace them long enough to pay a month of rent. What she lacked in a day job she made up in doing some petty robberies right off the streets and pawning off the goods to make up the rest, which worked well considering she'd never been caught. A few close calls of course, but otherwise she was undetected. Yet, this was no way to live a life. Whatever free time she had she'd used it to hone her powers, learning her limits, trying to make them make sense.

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C R E A T O R .
y o u

Kateh
AGE: 20
E-MAIL: reverse_pocky@hotmail.com
INSTANT MESSENGER: zomgkateh, AIM.
WEBSITE:deviantart.com/taintedwing-
EXPERIENCE: Umm...nine years? Almost ten, off and on.

ANYTHING ELSE? By submitting my application and adding this bit of information, I, (insert name), understand that administration, given they provide substantial reason, have the right to suspend or permanently ban my account. I also understand that they have the right to deny my application. I agree to keep activity here at Revolution Academy, and take responsibility to let administration know of prolonged absences. I agree to respectfully interact with other members. I GUARANTEE that the material I have posted in the above application is of my own making, and should anything be used from another source I have made a note as to where it came from. Should I plagiarize anything, be it an image set, application, or In-character post, I understand that I will be rightfully banned.
Wha'd you think of the rules? extensive and well-explained.

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E X E M P L U M .
s a m p l e p o s t

Oddly enough, she'd found herself sleeping. She didn't think she'd be able to sleep at all, considering her mind was running a thousand miles a minute in all directions, going apeshit trying to settle down everything that had happened these past few days. She didn't think she'd be able to sleep, her body felt shaky and wired as if she'd drank fifty cups of straight coffee, and she just couldn't calm that mind of hers. She was just thinking the same thing over and over again, like it was a broken record. However, that repeated action somehow lulled her into sleep. And obviously it was a sleep she didn't want to have.

She was dreaming. Yes, dreaming. Many things. Her first put her back many years, to maybe her being six or seven years old. She wasn't in her house, she was in the park with her father and her sisters, mother was missing in action but that's how quality time with dad usually went. Mom always did errands while he took them out to play somewhere, and the park was always the place of choice. Bring a frisbee, a bouncy ball, some dolls, and a few packaged sandwiches and you're set for the day. So there was the four of them, playing as if nothing was wrong, and everyone was happy. This dream was a quick one, and it dissipated as quick as it formed. Her mind seemed to be doing some traveling, as her next dream put her a little older, and set her into reality a little more. Her dream put her in the hospital sitting next to her father, so by process of elimination we can figure she was sixteen in her dream. She could see the doctors but all their faces were blurry, nonexistent as they stared at charts, computers, and her. She had this one many times, so it didn't scare her anymore, but oh by golly when she was younger, it scared the bejeesus out of her. Scaredy-cat, scaredy-cat!

The next was most recent. It was the only dream her mother showed up, wrinkled and aged. Sitting in a hospital bed, her three daughters were at her bedside as if preparing for death. Lydia sat at the foot of the bed, watching her mother slowly wasting away, while her sisters were crying and whispering their mother's lullabies to comfort her. Lydia did nothing to her, until she reached out to touch one of her blankets, and all of a sudden her mother went scream and the sheets turned red and soaked with blood. It was like everything went downhill from there, her mother bled so profusely she convulsed and went into shock in her bed while her sister's screamed bloody murder, and when the doctors came rushing in they all pointed the finger at Lydia, telling them she did it. When she tried to defend herself they didn't even bother to listen to her, saying they'd never believe a mutant, and as they wheeled her dying mother away they restrained her to the wall and tranquilized her. From there, everything went blank and dark.

She jumped out of bed startled as anything, almost screaming but somehow stopped it. Instead, she fell right off her bed and hit her head on the nightstand, of which she growled in pain and rubbed her head until the goose-egg formed and the pain numbed a little. Her mind kept on playing the bloody images and she felt her stomach churn and do horrible back-flips, which forced her to her feet and in a hop skip and a jump she was over her toilet throwing up like she'd drank way too much at a party. She was like that for a good few minutes until nothing was left in her, and to quickly get rid of the horrible taste of bile in her mouth she rinsed out with some Listerine quickly.

She felt claustrophobic in the bathroom then, it came over her out of the blue and she felt like she couldn't breathe in there, so of course she staggered out of the bathroom and down the hall, into the kitchen where she stopped to rest for a moment and try to calm herself down. Breathe girl, breathe. Concentrate, of else you're going to go nuts. She repeated this mantra so many times to herself, she probably would've been tongue tied had she said them aloud. Yet, it didn't seem to help-she still felt suffocated. She almost felt like she was hyperventilating, but it was her own anxiety causing the feeling. So, she quickly shuffled that aside and she headed towards the window, opening it as well as the screen so she could lean over the sill and get some fresh air and get her mind thinking clearly again. Leaned over the sill, she probably would've been doubled over had she not have the sill blocking her way. Making herself breathe deep, the fresh oxygen and the nitrous oxide coming through her nose seemed to calm her shakes, calm her mind, and stop that feeling of suffocation.

Her eyes were shut for the most part as she was leaning, almost looking suicidal and that she was trying to push herself over, but that certainly wasn't the case. Eyes opened to seeing a brick wall and of course she moved back into the apartment a little more, until her elbows were at the sill once more and she was looking right side up. Ah, much better. She felt a shaky again but that was from all that throwing up she did, not from the intense bout with panic she just had. But, water could wait, at least for the moment. Why? Well she'd noticed from the corner of her eye that someone was sitting down on the ground floor, on the sidewalk. And upon further inspection, it was none other than Victor. Brow furrowed slightly, as she was having a fit of weakness and couldn't do it anymore than that, as she wondered what on earth he was doing down there. Whatever it was, it looked like it was making him feel as crappy as herself.

Though, she didn't know whether or not to go talk to him? Maybe he wasn't in the mood to be bothered. Could she go down and play the nonchalant card? She didn't want to leave her house. It felt like a cocoon for her, her safety net that she didn't want to leave until she was ready. She was on willing house arrest, lock down, anything you want to call it. So, all she did was rest her arms on the sill like she was doing now, watching him but not exactly like, stalking him or anything. It was a force of habit for her, anyway. "What's going on down there?" she said semi-quietly, as she didn't want to scream, but yet it wasn't soft enough for it be lost in its journey to Victor's ears. Maybe that'd get his attention.

[Cillian Speratos]

Welcome Kateh to Revolution Academy! My name is AJ and I'm one of the moderators here that will be grading your application first. It is a marvelous piece of art and one that I enjoyed reading greatly. So far I could only find about one or two things wrong and they're rather minor, so it shouldn't take long to edit/fix them. =]

First of all, in the powers section, could you mention in the first paragraph (or the last) what her full range of her powers is. Feet? Yards? Miles? Give us a brief approximation of the powers that you've given this fine young woman.

In the weaknesses section could you please add her personality weaknesses here? What makes her ticked off if she gets angry at all? The description of doctors is great, but how does she react to other people when she's in a bad mood? Does she even have a bad mood? Give us a little here.

The tags are broken in a few places. Fixing those would be amazing.

Also, where it says Introducing; under her main title name, could you replace it with her alias? That would be much appreciated.

Aside from those few things you look pretty good to go, and once you have finished changing them as well as me taking one last look an administrator will be ready to look over the application.

Happy apping!

[Michelle Sawyer]

THIS APPLICATION HAS BEEN DENIED DUE TO INACTIVITY. IF YOU WISH
TO CONTINUE THIS APPLICATION PLEASE CONTACT A MEMBER OF STAFF.