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NICKNAMESXX Xan
AGEXXdeceased at 20, now 24
SEXUALITYXXPan, Femme-leaning
NATIONALITYXX African-American - White - Asian Mix
ROLEX Ghost
HEXXX #8c8d9c
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Xanâs biggest super power in death was her health. She felt better in death than she ever did in life. It should have been her first clue that she was dead. Xan has only shown the ability to go invisible and intangible, though neither happened knowingly. It seems to be a reaction to her emotions, she spent so long getting pity stares it felt nice to have no one notice you.
She doesnât remember her death, but she can sense it. Long before she passed on Xan had come to terms with her death, accepted that it was her time to move on. Now she just felt wrong, like she wasnât supposed to be here. A part of her ignored that feeling, shoved it to the corner of her mind like she did with all her darkest parts. A part of her wants to believe this is real but things arenât adding up. She can remember needing a kidney transplant, but she couldnât remember getting it â how did she feel better now? And why did she look different when she looked in the mirror? Her features were the same but there were subtle differences that only came with age that made the woman in the mirror nearly unrecognizable.
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H E I G H TXANDXB U I L D: 5â10â thin
In life, Xan was always sickly. Some times it was too difficult to eat, getting most of her nourishment from IVâs. Her fingers and arms frequently were dotted with red marks, her healing slowed from poor health. Sheâd always been underweight, though at times she manages to get close to her ideal weight. It was always cause for celebration, usually a sign that her health was improving.
Her hair and skin were often a reflection of her health, dulled when her body slowly declined. When she was in good health however she would glow. Her hair, usually an ashen brown, shiny and full. It was always pulled back or flattened from bed rest it was easy to forget how much she had until she had the time to style it. She couldnât stand to spend too much time on it, but a brush and some products did wonders on their own.
Never one to be especially vain or high maintenance, when you spent so much of your life looking like shit your looks took a back seat. Even when she would dress up it was never with heavy makeup or frilly dresses. She would dab some foundation on to help with her complexion, some mascara maybe if she was feeling flirty.
Her clothes were often oversized, she hated when people pointed out how thin she was like it was something she put work in to achieve instead of a symptom of her illness. Sheâd do anything to be able to fill out her clothes. Most days her style was more like a middle school boy, dickie shorts and converse with a tank top under a short sleeve button down. Layers were always her friend. On the rare occasion sheâd dress up she still opted for more masculine styles, though with her own twist. For a dance one year she wore a suit-inspired two piece that was bold colors and patterns, complete with a flirty crop top.
Most of all Xan was known for her smile. It was too big, too toothy, infectious. When she smiled it filled the whole room. It wasnât that it was an especially exceptional smile. Two lips, teeth â the works. There was a strength behind the mechanics of it that shined from the inside out. It was her secret super power, one she often used to put a smile on the face of others.
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P E R S O N A L I T Y:
Xan had been surrounded by dread for so long. Only a couple of her earliest memories were in good health. After that it was worried faces, hushed conversations, tears you could hear but would never see. She always wanted to cheer up others, often taking on the role of performer. Sheâd put on showcases as a girl, singing and dancing just for her parents â when Nixie was old enough sheâd dress them up and theyâd write a 10 line play to perform in the living room to an audience of two.
When you are given such an early expiration date, you either let that paralyze you in fear or you made every moment count. Xan would push every bit of darkness into the deepest corner of her mind, easier to deny her reality than dwell in it. The people around her didnât let her forget she was sick, they didnât have to say anything sheâd see it laced in their concerned glances. She grew to make light of her situation, often cracking jokes about her oncoming death much to her familyâs chagrin.
Truth was she always wanted to make otherâs smile, even when she was at her weakest. Sheâd often downplay her pain, something that backfired in later years when her parents realized a pattern after a couple of close calls. Constantly overestimating her own abilities, she outlived her body long before she died. Every time she got better sheâd trick herself into thinking it was for good this time, throwing herself into her passion â performing.
She participated in every school play she was able to. There were a few she even scored the lead, like when they did Beauty and the Beast she was casted as Belle and it was one of her greatest performances. Though for as many as she was able to be the star in, sheâd end up getting too sick to participate in. Luckily they always had an understudy on stand by.
Though even when she was at her sickest, she had always had the energy to sing. Not always lyrics, mostly just vocal rifts an humming a melody along, harmonizing as Nixie played her piano. A lot of the time when she was at her lowest that was all she could do; lay on the closest soft spot next to Nixie as she played her keyboard, humming a gentle melody.
There were moments when the darkness would spring from itâs trap. All of a sudden itâd pounce, holding her down in place until she was stuck in itâs grip, defeated. It always seem to come out of nowhere, that moment where she folded beneath circumstances no longer to carry herself. It should have been at her lowest moments, but it always led to the most inspiring moments. The moment sheâd give up, sheâd be lifted by the people around her who loved her. She was surrounded by love, even in her darkest hour â always.
Q U I R K SXA N DXO D D I T I E S:
Xan learned early on how to make the most of the situation. As a girl her parents would joke that she could make a game out of a piece of string. She could always distract herself, a talent picked up from many years in sterile hospital waiting rooms. Later years she would be on her phone a lot, something she could always do no matter her health or circumstances. She was rarely seen without her phone in her hand, except when she was rehearsing or singing. There was always a song stuck in her head, often humming the tune under her breath without even realizing. It drove others crazy.
F E A R S:
So much of Xanâs life was dictated by her illness, her biggest fear is that the same would happen to her sister. Her entire life she was given little to no input on her body and itâs treatment and as much as Nixie believed she wanted to do this, Xan didnât want Nixie to grow up and realize it wasnât what she wanted and resent Xan for just accepting it.
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Born yellow-skinned and underweight, Xan spent the first couple days of her life mostly underneath the therapy lights. She was jaundice, nothing too uncommon in newborns â though usually not to this extent. The light therapy helped but one issue led to another which led to another. They were supposed to be celebrating their new bundle of joy but they were in and out of hospitals.
She had a rare blood type, less than 200,000 people had it. It rejected any blood type except for its own. Her parents had money and connections that allowed them access to what was available, which wasnât much. They had no diagnosis and no end in sight, all they knew was there were no options that didnât involve questionable ethics. They conceived Phoenix in a petri dish, picking and choosing which genes she inherited so that she would be genetically compatible with Xan.
It wasnât for another couple years that they had an official diagnosis, Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD). Whether she was born with it or developed it after a string of event deteriorating her health and putting stress on her organs created the issue. Blood transfusions helped, which is where Nixie came in. The family was in the hospital so much, everyone knew them on a first name basis. Everyone was rooting for them, it was like a little family while they were there.
Her dad was the one who stayed behind most of the time. After Xanâs diagnosis he decided to quit his job and become a stay at home dad, taking on the role of primary caregiver for the girls. Their mother made enough to cover medical bills and their comfortable lifestyle so finances never prevented their parents from making a decision in their childrenâs best interest. There were long stretches where Xan would need to be homeschooled, which her dad would take on. Naturally they grew close, though that came with itâs own thorn of him being the one to have to be the target of Xanâs anger when she reached her limit. It did feel nice to always have him with her when she was at the hospital, no matter how cranky sheâd become.
It wasnât always hospital visits for the Coleâs. They celebrated the moments in between. Most of the time they spent evaluating circumstances day to day, but every so often there was a stretch of good health. Xan would always throw herself into too many extracurriculars, determined to make up for loss time. Her favorite was theatre, especially when they did musicals. Some of her closest friends, like Soren, she met through theatre (though he was always a techie rather than an actor, despite her trying to convince him to switch over). She was casted as the lead in quite a few times, though half the time the role ended up going to her understudy after her health would deteriorate again.
The truth was that Xanâs body would always be slowly destroying itself, no matter how many treatments she got. Not even a new kidney could save her. Their parents would talk about the day that Nixie would give Xan her kidney, something they decided a long time ago. They always talked about it like it would be a fresh start for all of them, but Xan knew it was just delaying the inevitable.
She had asked before if there was a way she could get donations through a traditional route other than through Nixie. Her parents explained that her blood type was difficult to get ahold of and wasnât sustainable for her level of treatment. Nixie always insisted she wanted to donate, that this was what sisters were for. It just never sat right with Xan, no matter how much people around her insisted otherwise â like Nixie was forced into being her lifelong blood bag.
Nixie was always a bright spot in Xanâs life. They were tied at the hip as soon as Nixie was old enough to walk. When theyâd lay in Xanâs bed looking up at the fan as it rotated hypnotically, talking about how theyâd be a famous sister music duo one day and how Xan was going to be in movies and Nixie would be composing music. For Xan it was fantasy, but it could be real for Nixie. She had her whole life ahead of her. Xan wasnât going to let anyone inhibit Nixie in anyway, especially herself. When Xan was 18 she made the decision to no longer accept donations from Nixie, insisting they pursue traditional methods of sourcing blood for her transfusion treatments. Her parents fought her but she was unwavering in her decision. Nixie deserved to live her life for herself, not waiting on stand by to be her sisterâs medicine.
When Nixie and Erin started dating, Xan was skeptical. Erin was in the class above Xan and while she knew that Nixie was mature for her age it was still enough to make her protective. She would complain about Erin loudly, nothing too cruel but her venom still apparent. Once when ranting to Soren, they forgot that Erin was one of Sorenâs closest friends, spinning the two out into an argument. Soren died before they ever made up, something Xan could have never predicted â that one of her friends would die before her.
Sorenâs death pushed Erin and Nixie closer, cementing their bond. Xan saw how happy Erin made her so her contention faded, though never completely. She still made sure Nixie applied to colleges out of State when the time came, though that might have been her living vicariously through Nixie more so. It was fates poor way of saying be careful what you wish for when Erin died. Xan would have never wished such a grim outcome but sheâd be lying if she said she never wished Erin would just leave Nixie to live her own life.
Xan wanted to be there for Nixie but her health was deteriorating. She tried hiding it but her parents knew the signs. So began the debates, her parents staying up late into the night with her trying to convince her to take Nixieâs kidney. Xan was ready to go, it wasnât worth the gamble. When you accepted your death you were washed over with a certain calm. Xan wouldnât offer any explanations, resolute in her decision.
Her father eventually accepted her choice, realizing it was one of the few choices she ever got to make for herself in her life â the irony that her choice was death was not lost on her. Her mother wasnât as understanding, growing angry with Xan overtime. She couldnât let her daughter die without kicking and screaming the whole time, but Xan expected as much. With Nixie it was harder. To hear her cry, to know the weight of the loss of Erin still weighed on her. It didnât matter the risk to her, that she was guaranteed to lose years off of her life â to her it was worth it.
Xan couldnât live with the idea of stealing those years from the people who would love Nixie in her last years, and she knew there would be many. Nixie was just that kind of person, the one that was easy to love. She never explained herself to Nixie as many times as she tried. She could never quite get the words out. Xan died with the words on her lips, in a hospital with a failed kidney and holding the hands of her family.
