Full Name: Emmeline Pearce
Nicknames: Emma, or Em
Age: 17 years old
Birthdate: November 15th
Home Town: Bristol, England (so yes, she has an accent)
Sexuality: Heterosexual
School: Arcana - Noctrem seemed too scary for me. Arcana seemed like the place where I would fit in better. At least people there aren't aspiring to kill people.
Power: My power is Psychic Construction. With nothing more than will power, and my imagination, I can create anything that I can picture in my mind. Though, every power has their downside, and mine has a few. Whatever I construct can only be tangible if my concentration is completely focused on it, and even if I were to (totally stealing this example from Dee) make a sword, and stab someone through the chest with it, that sword would not physically wound them. However, it does give the person the illusion of the same pain they would feel had they really been stabbed. I cannot kill with my power though, not that I would ever really want to. My creations only retain their existence so long as I remains focused. Once hmy concentration slips, they return to the depths of my mind from whence they came. The use of my power also takes it's toll on me. It's rare that I can really form anything tangible, and even if I manage to, my power burns me up and during extreme cases, I will sometimes pass out from the exhaustion. That's something I know I need to work on, and I'm trying to improve.
Likes:
- Good books
- Chocolate (milk, white, dark, hot...any and all chocolate is good with her. Persuade her with chocolate and she'll do almost anything.)
- Fireplaces
- Classic movies
- Good Music
- Newly fallen/undisturbed, or just falling snow
- Winter
- Autumn (she loves when the leaves change colour)
- Warm beds
- The Beatles
- John Lennon
- Sports (she watches football, and she plays quite a few sports herself)
- Running (she's actually quite fast and it takes a lot to leave her breathless)
- Exercise
- Rain (not storms, but normal rain)
- Dogs (she loves the big ones best, but little ones are ok too)
- English Breakfast Tea
- Oversized sweaters/cardigans (they're comfortable)
- Mumford & Sons (they're her favorite band)
- Old books (she loves the smell, the feeling, everything...)
- Fairytales
- Drugs
- Overuse of Alcohol
- Smoking
- Out of control parties
- Brussel Sprouts
- Mushrooms
- Spiders and/or bugs in general
- Unintelligent people
- Arrogance
- Lying
- Tight, enclosed spaces
- Threats
- Violence
- Rap Music
- Most Country Music
- That something will happen and she'll end up like her mother
- That she'll never be good enough
- Being used and thrown away
- Drowning
- Being caught in a burning building with no escape
Personality:
I've got her secrets, that much is obvious, but besides that, I try to sometimes be open to other people. I come off shy at first, but that's because I've never really had many relationships with anyone, and trust with me is not so easily earned. It's true, I'm a bit of an introvert, but it's not because I'm unsocial, I just doesn't particularly know how to get close to people. But slowly, I'm learning, I'm gaining more confidence in myself, leading me out of my self-induced sense of seclusion.
It's not that I'm is shy, per say, I just don't talk much, because I figure if I doesn't have something important to add to a conversation, why speak at all? I'm careful with my words, just as I am with my actions. I have my own sense of wit and charm, but I just dont want to waste it one those who wouldn't understand it. That, and most of the time I get self-conscious that what I say might be taken the wrong way. But I'm not shy, I'm just a bit selective, not about others, but about myself. When I'm really comfortable around someone, they can usually tell, because thats when my joking and sarcasm come out. And trust me, my mischievous side can be a bit....different than how most people usually see me.
When it comes to love, or sex, or anything revolving around that sort of topic, I guess I hold a great lack of experience. The first relationship I've ever had ended badly. After the incident, it took me almost a full year just to stop flinching when people even brushed against my arms. After I moved to America, one summer after my first year at Arcana, yes, I did have a relationship with a boy, well, no, I dont guess I could call him a boy. He was a few years older than me, and I'd met him one day when I was working as a waitress at the local bar/grill. He kept coming back almost every day, like clockwork, specifically asking to be seated in my section, until I agreed to go on a date with him, and it all started like that. It was nice, and then as the summer ended, so did the relationship. I just haven't exactly thought about starting another one. I'm not exactly the kind of girl to spend all her time waiting for some perfect and wonderful guy to come along to sweep her off her feet
And, contrary to popular belief, I'm not that uptight when it comes to alcohol or things like that. I just prefer to keep my distance from those who drink it like its the water they need to live. Even I'm not against a glass or two, but once you've finished an entire bottle, I think that's meant to be a sign to stop not to over-intoxicate yourself even more.
However, there is a side to me, that's not usually seen. That side, that Emmeline, is the more brazen, more passionate one, the side to me that longs for thrills and adventure, the kinds not attainable by burying yourself in books, no matter how gripping the story might be. However it is that side of me that stays hidden away from the world, only appearing on the surface occasionally, but more often than some might think.
I've changed a lot since I came to America. I'm not that same girl who hid in a closet whenever she heard footsteps in her home, and I've grown out of being that girl who would cling for dear life to any scrap of affection that she was given. I like to think that I'm stronger now. I'm more independent, open, and probably a lot of other things that I just don't notice.
Overall, I guess I could say that I am a good person. I try to take my time to make other's feel better when they're down, and I hate to see anyone in pain, be it physical or emotional. It's easy to say that I'm stubborn, and distrusting of most people until I manage to get to know them. I have my walls, and maybe they are built too high, and even though it might even be for the best that it happens, I'm terrified that one day they'll come crumbling down, and something will happen, and I'll never be able to get them back up again.
I may not be an open book, but the lock, if you try hard enough, probably isn't that hard to pick.
History: It's difficult, if not impossible, to say that I had a childhood free of pain. In fact, pain was somewhat of an everyday occurance as I grew up. My mother Catherine, found that she was pregnant at the age of 17. Her boyfriend, upon finding out that his girlfriend was carrying a child, immediately disappeared, leaving her alone as her parents threw her out. At first, my mother swore that she would be the ideal mother to her child, but that promise would never turn out to be anything more than sweet, empty words.
As my mother's pregnancy progressed, she became addicted to the medication she was given, among other things including alcohol and smoking. It was a miracle that I was born without any problems or defects. No, I was born a healthy baby girl. Why my mother didn't just give me up then, send me off with a nice family, is something that I will most likely be wondering for the rest of my life.
No, my mother kept me, but mistreated me in almost every way possible. I was often beaten, threatened, abused (both physically and verbally), or just forgotten as my mother brought home various strange men to fill her empty bed. My childhood was led in fear and torment. I never knew what to expect from my mother, and at such a young age, never understood why it was my mother hated me so much, or for what crime I was being punished. All I knew was the pain of it all.
To be honest, I was more often forgotten than I was abused. I had a mother who wanted to pretend that I wasn't there. She never wanted me, I always knew that much. She would stay out of the house most of the time, but it was when she finally did come home that things got bad. She would usually be drunk, stumbling around, and upon seeing me, her worthless curse of a daughter, that's when she'd get angry. She'd tell me exactly how much she hated me, how it was my fault that the love of her life left her. I was a mistake, nothing more. I wasn't worth anything to anyone, and I never would be. These were the bedtime stories my mother told me.
Not to say that I didn't have my own ways of escape, temporary as they might have been. I often found myself at the library. The librarian was a kind woman who took care of me when she could, even if she didn't know of the life I suffered at home. School was my other escape, as strange as that seemed to my peers. They just grew to see me as the girl who spent far too much time with her nose stuck in a book. But hey, Beauty was always reading books and look where that led her.
When it came to love, I was always a bit short-cut on that. My first relationship was with a boy named Eric. He was a year older than me, and was in some of my classes, even though he was a grade above me. He made me happy, and kept me sane, but even he didn't know what happened behind the closed doors of my home. But that "love", if you could call it that, didn't last.
We'd dated for all of three months when, one night, Eric persuaded me to go to a party with him. He knew I didn't drink, and just gave me a cup of punch, or something. I'm not really sure what it was. What I do know, is that he'd spiked it. I hadn't known at the time, but after my third or fourth cup, I started getting a bit dizzy. He helped me up to one of the upstairs bedrooms so I could sit down for a minute, but then he started running his hands over my arms, and telling me how pretty I was. I was too intoxicated to really stop him, so my attempts at pushing him away and telling him no only showed to be futile. I couldn't stop him, I couldn't even think as it all happened. I remember wanting it to be over, and wanting to go home to my abusive mother rather than stay there, in that house, in that room...
At first, I just blamed it on the drinking, so I decided I could be mad at him for that, but when we went back to school, he didn't even look in my direction. He just pretended that I didn't exist. Less than a week later, he already had another girl on his arm. That was when I realized what had really happened.
That day, I went home with tears in my eyes, and when my mother came home, everything got worse.
My mother was already drunk, and for some reason, she was furious, and she began throwing things around, most of the time at me. Crouching down, I cried and cried, wishing for some sort of shield to protect me from the onslaught of empty beer bottles. Suddenly, one appeared, and the bottles just bounced off the surface and hit the ground. That was when my mother stopped, staring wide-eyed at me with a look in her eyes that I couldn't really label. Before I could say anything, my mother ran from the house, probably to a bar, and Emmeline was left alone.
Since it was obvious that my mother had nothing to do with my new...gift, I began to search for my father. It took about two months before I finally managed to locate him. Upon meeting him, I quickly noticed the similarities of his appearance compared to me, and apparently, so did he, after a while. He explained what was happening, as he himself was gifted as well. He also apologized for the treatment I'd received from my mother, saying that she was obviously not the same girl that he had once thought himself in love with. He then proceeded to tell me about two schools for people like me. Noctrem, and Arcana. After hearing about both schools, the choice of which one I would be attending was an easy one.
I stayed with my father for a few weeks as he and I got everything planned and sorted for my enrollment, much to the dismay of his wife and 9 year old daughter. Both of them hated me, that was plain to see, but in front of my father they both put on their best smiles and acted like they were my best friends. My father asked me to stay for another week after we finished everything up, apparently wanting to get to know his daughter, but, having had enough of his wife and daughter, I declined. I only stayed long enough to pack my things, after he decided to help me shop, saying that it was the least he could do, and, bags packed and ready to go, I left for the United States, leaving my old life behind, and ready to start a new one.
Life has been much easier since my arrival at Arcana, so much has changed. I'm not afraid anymore. I feel like things have really changed for me. I've grown...I'm better.
Anything else? I have a scar on my right side, near the upper-middle of my back, inflicted upon me one night when I was a child and my mother was having one of her fits. The woman was throwing things and she'd thrown an empty glass bottle at a wall and as it shattered a few pieces of glass managed to lodge themself in my back/side.
During the summers, rather than go back to my mother in Bristol, I work as a waitress at the local bar and grill, and at a pet shelter. It's that money that pays for me to stay in a hotel, as well as buy a few new clothes for the new year. Sometimes I still take a few shifts on weekends. Both establishments know of my situation, and dont usually push for me to do more than I can, and they still pay me for my work.
