Full Name: Loren Hanna Craft
Nicknames: Hanna, LC
Age: Seventeen years old
Birthdate: February 1
Home Town: South Pasadena, California, USA
Sexuality: Heterosexual

School: Arcana
Power: I can read minds, but it's much more complicated than you might think. See, thoughts aren't made up of mere words by themselves. Imagine the ocean. It's wave after wave, of multiple sensations: taste, smell, touch, sight, hearing... That's how thoughts seem to be: waves. Reading minds feels like riding wave wafter wave after wave. Another way to describe it would be like having someone show you painting after painting after painting, with no apparent transition in between. It's not unpleasant, exactly, just a little unnerving, because you become surrounded by the thoughts of another person. In the beginning, it was consuming. It was like drowning in the ocean, with no hope of ever surfacing. Eventually, I mastered it. Or I became better at it, at least. I do have a 'radius' of when I can read minds, but it changes depending on the relationship I have with someone. For example, if someone is a stranger, I can only read their minds if they are within a 5 foot radius. If it is an acquaintance, a 10 foot radius. If it is a friend, a 30 foot radius. If it is a very close friend or family, then as long as they are in the same state, I can read their minds. I don't know about lovers, I've never had one. This radius business is a little tricky, though. For example, I am not close to my family - at all. But because I've known them all my life, they count in the very highest category. I know, strange.

There are some extra benefits to reading minds. I've done it for so long, that sometimes, I can observe one person and guess at what thoughts they may have. I also get a tiny shock in my elbow when someone is thinking a thought that puts me at its focus. It feels like a small tickle. I also learned to shift through the waves without fully reading someone's mind. It's always there beneath your feet, it seems, and you can ignore it, decide not to dive in and instead pretend it isn't there. But it is there, and if you pay a little bit of attention to it, you get glimpses of each thought, of each person.

But of course, there are setbacks. I lose every physical sense when I'm actively reading someone's thoughts, and even sifting through them requires the loss of my hearing. After I'm finished with 'diving' into someone's thoughts, it takes quite a bit of time to gain them back. For eight minutes and fourteen seconds (yes, I keep time; how else am I supposed to know when I've improved?), my sight is blurry, my hearing muffled, my taste buds dull and prone to taste only one particular flavor (it changes each time), touch is harder to concentrate on, and smell absolutely disappears.

Likes: Photography | Reading | Playing the guitar | Musicals | Childhood movies |
Dislikes: Overfriendly people - as in, the people who try to push their way into your life | The color gray | The public eye | Blunt questions | Lies |
Fears: This is going to sound really hypocritical, but I'm terrified of people finding out about my own thoughts. I don't want anyone getting into my head, but that doesn't stop me from getting into other people's heads sometimes. I know how it sounds. But I can't help it. The first year of unsteady and unskilled mind reading, I found out so many things I didn't want to know. I knew who was cheating on who, I knew who hated who, who liked who, I started to know everyone better than themselves. I could figure out who was going to become a murderer, child molester, successful businessman... this little thing that people called 'intuition' made me popular. People thought I had all the gossip. Imagine their disappointment when I told them nothing. After all that information I gained in just one year, I decided no one would get in my head again, and I'm terrified of people knowing me better than I know myself. How unsteady that sounds, right?

Personality: I know how I seem to most people. Very neutral, very wise, very... boring. Safe. People think this because I am not constantly talking, and if I do talk, my voice comes out soft, airy, like a feather. I also like to stay in the background; a wallflower, kind of, I suppose. I don't like the spotlight, I've had enough of it when I was younger. Now, don't get me wrong, I can be neutral, wise, and even safe. I'm kind, with a good, pure heart that is prone to love others; how can anyone attend Arcana and not be the same? I am not a terrible person. I am actually quite nice, and easy to like. I'm silly, with a love of all things that have to do with music. I'm a good friend, loyal to the core. I'm independent, but I do like to be around others, which I'm sure most of you can relate to. I'm considered 'proper,' and the way I act and dress shows it; after living so long in my family, I can't help it. It's become as natural as breathing. I talk properly, with no contractions, no slang words. I employ quite advanced vocabulary daily, out of habit. I dress cleanly and simply, making sure the air of wealth always shows. It is clear to most that I was brought up in quite a high family. People might dislike me for this, consider me pretentious, but they know I'm not. I can get down and dirty with the best of them. I like to party, though I am conservative and refrain from drinking too much (I am one of those 'honest' drunkards; it's not a very pleasant thing to be, as I'm sure you can guess), dancing, promiscuous behavior... In fact, I'm a virgin, and I have never been kissed. Choose not to believe me, if you'd like, but I can't seem to rid myself of my father's reprimanding scolding, even now.

I have always been tempted by the forbidden, the side that has been unexplored. I guess you could say it' because I've been repressed for nearly all of my life. I am far too curious for my own good, observing everything and everyone that catches my eye. It's for this reason that my power seems to be a curse; it is a constant temptation, to get into someone's head and find out what they're thinking. I have self-control in terms of my powers, but little in anything else. I'm an explorer. I love adventure, and I love uncharted waters. I would like to experience everything the world has to offer; it all intrigues me! It's for this reason that I'm a little excited that Noctrem students are coming. After all, what is more taboo-ed than evil? I won't lie, I've dreamed a couple of times of attending Noctrem. If it weren't for Amy Roerig, I probably would have attended there instead, so that my love of mischief would be considered a valuable asset. But I'm at Arcana, so I maintain a good reputation; after all, I read minds. I need to gain the trust of others to save myself from being antagonized. It's not a hard thing for me, gaining trust. I'm not a bad person, like I said. You can trust me! It's just that... there is a little calculating, much darker side of me, too. After experiencing the thoughts of so many people around me, I can't help but absorb some of it. I have a gift of seeing everything both ways, because of my power.

I like to flirt with danger, though I flirt with little else. I dance with the devil, you could say, in a teasing manner, back and forth, push and pull, cat and mouse. I considered leaving Arcana for a short time, but I realized Arcana was the place where my brother would have wanted me to be. He would have wanted me to pursue the best, for the good of all people. So I stay. I look up to him the most, though he's not here anymore. If he would have wanted me to go to Arcana, then I'm going to Arcana. Arcana has come to suit me, though I can't help but tempt the idea of Noctrem sometimes. I just want to explore a little! Create some chaos without having to clean it up afterwards. To have no care in the world. Do as I please. Yes, I am a prankster; but it's all in good fun, right? The only people who get to see this side of me are the people who actually seek me out, talk to me. I don't like the spotlight, I really don't.

History: The Craft family was well-known in South Pasadena; home of very many wealthy socialites, it was the perfect place for my parents to settle. My father was a politician, with dreams of becoming the president one day. My mother followed him everywhere, the perfect picture of a submissive, obedient, quiet wife. I learned from her how to act around my father, and eventually, around the public. I learned exactly what people expected of me, how to give them that, how to charm others, etc. I looked up to my parents as a child, incredibly so. They were, in my eyes, the perfect people. I wanted to be just like them. We were wealthy, but with great wealth comes great responsibility, and my twin brother Adam and I learned it at the tender age of six. We maintained an amazing facade. We were intelligent, beautiful, courteous, charming, and had a little bit of sparkle that separated us from everyone else, or so people said. My mother taught us well, I suppose, and we were quite good at whatever we learned. Adam and I had many admirers, beaus, and positive relationships with others to establish the oh-so-necessary connections and good opinions required for my father's success. We were the lucky ones, I guess; many other teenagers were rejected from the high society we were constantly surrounded by. We thought nothing of it. Or at least, Adam thought nothing of it. I was always aware of the heavy risks at hand, the burdens on our shoulders, for our father's sake. Remember, I wanted to make my father the happiest man on earth, and if pretending I was someone else pleased him, then I would do it.

But Adam hated it. He wanted to live his own way. He wanted to do something reckless, and crazy, and adventurous. I wanted it too, but I wanted to make father happy. Adam disagreed; he hated Father, which at the time, I couldn't understand. It wasn't until later, when I realized he was severely beaten and abused by Father, that I began to hate Father too, but that comes later. Adam and I were best friends, and the only reason he didn't do anything wild was because of me. You see, on my fourteenth birthday, I had a huge party. One night, all of my friends and I were in the movie theater in our basement, some random horror movie that I can't recall, when I fainted. I was flooded by the waves and waves of people's thoughts, could see myself in their minds. What's wrong with her? they were all wondering. I saw myself in their heads. I could hear their screams, and it was terrible. When I awoke two minutes later, I couldn't go to school again. I stayed home as long as I could, until eventually my mother began home schooling me. I got out of that easily, too. I learned on my own, privately, late into the long hours when everyone was too asleep to be thinking much; my powers didn't extend to their dreams, you see. I told Adam everything, and he was the one who encouraged me to hone my powers. He stayed, to make sure I didn't fall apart without him.

But it wasn't enough, I suppose. When I had become much better at handling my powers, he acted out. He decided he was sick of my father's ways. You see, my father was a little forceful. A little cruel. My mother was terrified of him, I was blind to his faults, but Adam and my father always butted heads. Always fought. I guess it was only natural that he would lose it eventually. He got so mad at my father one day, that he went out and threw a party at our house, when the rest of us were at some fancy event; he had stopped going to those, by then. I was Father's only hope, and was now the favorite child. When the three of us got back, the party was already out of control. The party was brought to a frightening end, and after they were all gone, my mother ran to her room, dragging me with her, and I heard shouting. Screams of pain. Tortured screams. I realized Father was beating Adam. I began to weep, try to run and help him, but my mother slapped me and kept me in her arms, ignoring my own screams and ferocious shaking, biting, and sobbing. The next morning, Adam was dead, my father was weeping, and my mother was silent. I lost it, then. I ran out without anything in hand, and never looked back. I didn't want to hear their lies of how my twin brother had been murdered, by rage and by uncontrolled, uninhibited anger.

I decided to indulge my more curious, adventurous musings. I wandered from place to place, stayed away from foster families and the government and the police. I eventually got into the wrong crowd: prostitutes, gamblers, drunkards... I mean, I am definitely a virgin, never been kissed, but I did start to gamble - it was just so easy, after all the practice I had reading minds! I could tell what they were thinking immediately. They weren't too hard to figure out, especially since they were always drunk. A few months later, I decided to try drinking. I got terribly drunk, and spilled my whole life, including my powers, including my sorry past, to a stranger. The stranger happened to be Amalthea Desolee Roerig, who brought me to Arcana. And from there on, I've owed my life to them. I know that.