Jack


Age
Seventeen, though mature features and stature can cause her to seem a couple of years older than she really is. She often uses it to her advantage--and sometimes, she just flat-out lies about her age. She doesn't like to be taken for inferior because of her younger age, so she obscures it however she can.

Role
Experiment One.

Gender
Um...female? She doesn't look so masculine in that picture up there I need to differentiate, does she? Of course, she does have...er, a 'masculine' name--that is, yes, Jack is a male name. She decided she liked it because it was short, to the point, monosyllabic, and doesn't care that it's normally (that is, invariably) a man's name.

Number Code
6785700

Partner
Remains to be seen. She thinks it safe to assume that it'll be someone she'll absolutely loathe. Well, a little pessimism never hurt anyone.

Instructor
More or less the same as above.

Personality
Jack is not a woman who can be at first glance judged--of course, nobody, fictional or non-fictional, really can be (well, the release of the Twilight series has thrown this into doubt), lest they appear to be mere cardboard characters with nothing more to them than what you get on the surface. Jack is no such person. In direct contrast, Jack is a thick-skinned person in every sense of the word, who unflinchingly and intentionally maintains a demeanour that is wittingly crafted to make herself an enigma; she believes nothing good can come of wearing your heart on your sleeve, and to this end she has done the equivalent of encasing her heart firmly behind the rigid steel wall that is her aloof, solitary persona. Ironic enough now that she is a mystery even to herself, incapable of recalling the events of her life (though she can get an inkling from the illustrative chronicle that is her own body) and what has made her as she is. Even by the moment she first awoke to this strange place having no idea of who she really was or where she'd come from, or where she was going, it was almost an instinct for Jack to immediately shut herself within the sanctuary--or rather, fortress--of her body, mind, and spirit and adopt a detached, stony mannerism. And repeated attempts to tear down this hard-hearted façade will be met only with antagonism that quickly discourages any such attempts.

Thus, anything anyone can see is purely what she gives on the surface--and she gives little. Her silence never quite makes it to being cold and negative, and yet one would be delusional to describe it as shy and soft-spoken--instead, she remains simply distant and impersonal, often exhibiting an impression of deep thought in all she does, watching what goes on around her with an observant and vigilant eye, taking in what conversation does come about in her presence but neglecting to participate beyond a mere word or two except in the most necessary of occasions. When she does speak at length, her words tend towards a gruffly blunt straightforwardness, but within the hoarse rasp in which her words are painted are vestiges of long-held wisdom and experience, reluctantly shared aloud, and only for a brief moment before she sinks back into the familiar comforts of obdurate withdrawnness. She does not strive for callous harshness in her words, but it comes to her as naturally as her habitual barrier of silence, and though she is neither apathetic nor bitter, both are attributes that she often cannot stop herself from injecting into her terse words in the form of a rough, jagged, and guttural voice--despite her best efforts to manipulate her demeanour into one of calm rather than aloofness. And so she may be seen as someone who simply does not care for anything or anyone, desiring nothing more than to be left to her own devices and caring little for what happens to others if she gets it, apathetic to the extreme in all regards.

Were she truly thus, her life would be a bleak prospect indeed--and yet she is not. Because beneath this sternly sagacious, gruff demeanour lies much tumult and confusion. Torn between what seems to be a natural fear of wearing her heart on her sleeve and rising loneliness stemming from her self-imposed detachment from others, thrown in with the process of coming to terms with her current situation, what she might have been previously, what she is now, and atop it all the constant physical agony in which she exists, Jack's entire worldview and view of herself, limited though both are due to the circumstances, are in chaotic disarray, compelling her instinctively to retreat further into herself in order to organise her thoughts the only way she knows how--in solitude, a thing both comfortingly familiar and painful to her. If she is taken to be apathetic and disinterested in others and their feelings, then she is taken quite out of character--for caring about the wellbeing and moods of others around her, understanding and empathising to those feelings, comes just as naturally to her as her emotional seclusion, to the point where it can be said Jack cares far more about others than she does about herself. She is compelled to be self-sacrificing in situations involving those whom she empathises with and cares for, an aspect that is only subtly to be noticed by the astute observer except in pressing situations--to give an example, if she were to find someone in a situation of severe danger, facing almost certain injury or death, Jack does not hesitate to disregard the wisdom and pragmatism normally characteristic of her to attempt to aid the person at potential cost to herself. And the reason for this, beyond her innate compassion for others, is that Jack is haunted unconsciously by a death wish. Although she herself does not recognise it, the constant torment in which she lives, the vexing and painful recollections of immense guilt and despair from whatever life she lived prior to now, and her own uncertainty and loneliness in the current situation have deprived Jack of a real will to live, have caused her to feel subconsciously that her life is more troublesome to go through than it's worth. She does not actively seek death, nor would she, at this point, merely allow herself to be killed, for even Jack herself does not realise that her body and soul yearn for release--but it manifests itself when she is the first to volunteer for the most dangerous of life-threatening tasks. What is taken by others to be, perhaps, a vengeful thrill-seeking on her part, or perhaps mere recklessness, is in fact a manifestation of the fact that she does not care if she dies in the pursuit of aiding someone in danger or accomplishing a goal for others.

Jack, it seems, is constantly thinking--not a moment passes in which she is not trying desperately to make sense of the little bits and pieces of what she can recall, or what memories she can just barely taste from beyond the veil. Thus it often seems that when she is merely idling about, one can discern in her eyes that tell-tale quality--a slight furrowing of her brow, a minor sinking of her countenance from its rigorously maintained poker face, and her eyes are clearly not looking at anything that anyone else can see. In reality she is something of a pessimist, for even though she opts for a realistic, sensible view of things, her instincts compel her at first thought to assume the worst. This is reflected in the worldview she holds--or at least held, before she came here, though it is rapidly returning--of a world that is inherently wretched and destructive, of a human race that is inherently miserable and unhappy. She perceives life as in its very nature constantly putting people down brutally and crushing brief moments of happiness and content wherever they may manage to sprout up. At the very least, this is how she has come to understand it.

Another aspect that humanises Jack and gives indication to the personality that is encased within the demeanour that she exhibits is her intense dignity. Jack holds her dignity almost sacredly to her, feeling that to suffer any injury to her dignity without reaction would lessen herself before her own eyes, would make her weak and take her from being the indomitable presence she is--or strives to be--to a mere doormat for others to use. The concept is loathsome to her for reasons she cannot fathom but can narrowly, barely taste beyond the blank shade that has fallen over her memory--and the taste is repulsive, a mere splinter of the shade of a memory that repulses, infuriates, and disgusts her even though she cannot comprehend exactly what it entails. And thus another gaping hole in her normally sensible, down-to-earth ideology is unearthed--for she will not suffer to be taken advantage of, used, manipulated, humiliated, without fiercely pursuing retribution with a determination and vengeance that could only be described as formidable.

And finally, there is a last thing which Jack holds particularly dearly to herself--music. Perhaps it was thus in her prior life, whatever it was, as well, but in her current state, among the first and only pleasures Jack (re)discovered was music, finding it marginally more successful at drawing her mind off the pain of her power and, despite its nature, at giving her the concentration to try to piece her thoughts and memories together. And just as Jack exists on the fringe of any environment she finds herself within, her music consists solely of fringe elements. She takes solace in the most savage variants of anarcho-punk, death metal, grindcore, and goregrind, finding their collective rage and sheer extremity to be a most relieving experience--in direct contrast to an otherwise calm, if rather gruff demeanour.

It is ultimately a complicated affair to attempt to summarise Jack, as much so as it is to venture a summary of anyone's full personality--full of contradictions, shifting uncertainties, and peculiarities as she is, what may seem to accurately describe her one day may change--subtly and drastically at once, shifting with her view of herself and others.

Crush/Relationship Status
Well now, you go and tell me if she seems the 'crush' type.

Are You Broken?
Given she's only been aware of her situation and herself, as much of her as she can remember, Jack clearly doesn't know jack shit (haha, I see what I did there) about what exactly is happening and has yet to formulate a distinct, thought-out opinion on the circumstances. However, she certainly isn't getting a good vibe off of how 'Father' (she hates using the term to refer to the man who demands he be known by it, since it makes her feel inferior and childish) refers to her and others as 'superweapons' and how quick he is to silence those who resist. Thus, she's wise enough to know not to go against what he demands of them--not publicly, not yet.

Power
The power she has been granted is one of a truly fearsome nature--the ability to inflict pain of any level and any sensation, merely by thinking it. She needs only turn her eyes to a living thing and will pain upon it, and immediately that organism is afflicted with pain of the magnitude which Jack sees fit to bestow upon them. It's fairly straightforward in that respect: there's not much more to it than that she can cause anything her eyes turn on to feel pain ranging from a small pinprick to a migraine to excruciating torture. She's not a big fan of it. She must either be looking at the victim, or they must be within a six metre radius of her.

Besides her power, Jack is possessed of impressive physical capabilities in regards to strength, and to say the least would present quite a challenge were you to toss powers aside and engage her in a good old-fashioned fistfight (not recommended, in any case); it can be guessed she's no stranger to physical fights, or wasn't, not by how she carries herself in a fight, or how her durable body can take a great extent of physical punishment, or the number of scars gracing her form. Furthermore, she's wise in her own strange way--excellent at concealing her own expressions and thoughts but capable of remarkably quick-minded, astute observations, and at reading the expressions and subtleties of others whilst maintaining her own perpetual poker face, and yet she is miserably bad at interpreting intent from these expressions; for example, she may pick up on the slightest raising of the corners of someone's lips, in a minute friendly gesture others may perhaps never notice, and conclude it to be a mocking smile instead. And lastly, due both to her willpower and her physical durability, Jack has a considerable pain threshold and can tolerate significant pain--which is a double-edged sword now, because it only makes the pain she suffers because of her ability all the greater.

Weakness
Jack's power comes with the price that no matter what she does, where she is, or how she otherwise is feeling, she is in perpetual physical pain. It's not focused in any one place, for it is no piercing, precise agony--instead, it permeates her entire body with an affliction that is never so intense that it inhibits her from being able to actually live and interact with the world (as opposed to, of course, being more or less rendered incapable of movement by the pain...which was as it was before they perfected the ability, one should note), but always aching just enough that she will always be hurting, even if she attempts with all her might to concentrate on anything else--and she will never get quite used to it, for as soon as she feels like she may be adapting to the torment, it seems to raise just a little bit in pain. For the most part, it is limited to that permeating, burning pain that afflicts her constantly without fully overtaking and dominating her--but from time to time spikes in the pain occur, typically in moments of emotional distress, which can grow so powerful as to render her unconscious from the pain. She finds it the epitome of irony--that she, someone who can inflict pain on others at will such that it can reduce them to a mere shred of humanity, is afflicted with a constant torture of that same pain. However, it goes even further than she knows--namely, if she never finds a way to either stabilise the pain, or remove it and her power altogether, it will continue to increase until she is utterly incapable of living with it and suicide becomes the only viable option.

In regards to phobias, Jack is less straightforward. Abnormally, she fears mirrors and seeing reflections of herself, considering the concept of a reflection to be an aberration, an abomination, and somehow deeply disturbing. It is thought that the cause of this is because looking into a mirror causes her pain to spike, but the fact is the fear stems even deeper than that--in fact, the pain spike is caused specifically by her fear of reflections, not vice versa. Otherwise, she is in all honesty daunted by little in life--or rather, she refuses to be intimidated into submission or cowardice, even if the fear to her is real. However, she won't let herself exhibit fear due to her own pride--and experienced as she is with years of forcing her face into an impassive, aloof state (a fact not weakened but in fact strengthened by her power, since she now has to look like she isn't, as it were, in constant pain), she's good at keeping fear from climbing to the surface.

Appearance Description
The woman now known solely as 'Jack' stands at about six feet and two inches tall, and so possessed of a fairly lofty stature with wide-held, firm shoulders and a firm, stable core. The vast pale expanse of her milky skin, a hue similar to that of freshly cooled porcelain, gives way to a network of scars she no longer recalls the origins of, found cutting across the pale surface, interspersed with an amalgamation of tattoos that she no recollection of ever getting. From these indicators she has already begun formulating theories of her life prior to her 'rebirth', taking cues from the scars to assume a violent lifestyle, and from the tattoos she gains an impression that in that life she had no need to worry about permanent alterations to her body--and judging by a couple of them she believes they indicate involvement in a gang: but that is all for another place and time to discuss. In terms of body build, there is nothing 'slender' or 'feminine' about her; lean, powerful muscles are visible across her arms and abdomen, indicative of considerable upper body strength which she continues to maintain, even now in the advent of her 'rebirth', through rigorous exercise routines that she seems to execute on rote memorisation (indicating their importance to her previous self).

Jack has, or rather, must have had a naturally attractive face at some point--but the course of years living a life she cannot recall but for small indicators as to the nature of have decimated that prior attractiveness. She's no longer beautiful by any standard of the word, and she never was 'cute', at least not by the implications of the word; a particularly astute (or sympathetic, either way) observer could note that she does, however, bear a toughened, indelicate sort of prettiness about her. Sharp, defined features adorn a small, dark countenance; high, prominent cheekbones carve out a significant portion of her features, surrounding a small, slightly pointed nose (that's evidently been broken one or two or three times in the past), under which rest thin, dark lips ungraced by any sign of a smile or a laugh, instead pulled flatly in a well-practiced poker face that comes almost perfectly to Jack's face. Her eyes are akin to cold stones of a light hazel-brown hue gazing out intently from the pale canvas of her face, and somewhat almond-shaped; it is difficult to judge any specific ethnicity from her face. Conversely her faded black hair is cut short a bit unevenly (because she cuts it herself, or used to), with a wiry texture, and tends to spring up spryly, wild and untamed.

One of the first things most anyone notices about Jack, however, is that she's covered head to toe in tattoos of all different kinds--focused more in her upper body, however. The most readily apparent, and largest one, would be the War Pig across her back, adorned with bullets, chains, spikes, and the word 'Motörheads' in arching letters over it, which she has theorised was the name of a gang. Some are abstract and/or spiritual in nature, such as the large, flaming ankh on her upper left bicep, the Eye of Horus on the back of each hand, and the Uraeus on her lower back. Others are in relation to what were undoubtedly at the time her favourite bands: these include another War Pig on her right bicep, or the Obituary tattoo across her right forearm; she also has one of Death's original logo (in red) at her collarbone, Deicide's '666' on the bicep above her Obituary tattoo, and the Obituary saurian eye tattooed on her left upper arm. And others are frankly simply rather gruesome in nature. For example, she has one across her lower left ribcage of a grievous wound, exuding crimson blood, revealing metallic rib bones (also, as it were, dripping copiously with blood); it’s rather similar to this, except, as said, with metal bones instead of...bone...bones. She has another spanning the upper right portion of her back and running all the way down the back of her right arm, depicting a corpse wrapped in what looks like spiderwebs hanging from a tree of tormented skulls and faces that extends down her arm, eventually devolving into a mass of skulls set against brimstone and blood. There are a couple more, but they adorn areas that...most will not see, to put it shortly (no, you dirty-minded ass, they're not there. Mostly in her midriff area). Many of them no longer mean anything to her in regards to the tattoo design itself--but in regards to the very presence of the tattoo she takes solace that in the wake of the loss of her entire life, she has at least some parts of her history and personality recorded on the manuscript that was her own body.

The clothes she retains from her prior life also give some kind of reflection on how she lived, or who she was. She woke up with only a few articles of clothing to her name, none of it particularly luxurious and none of it in a particularly fanciful state. In terms of upper body clothes she possesses exclusively a variety of t-shirts (most of them with the sleeves sloppily torn off) emblazoned with names like Carcass, Napalm Death, Suffocation, Rudimentary Peni--a lot of the bands she now listens to. Which pleases her, because Jack feels this gives her a significant connection to the way she was when she was 'actually herself'. Along with these shirts came an old leather jacket, rather well-worn, shabbily patched in certain places where age or other circumstances had torn the fabric inside or the leather outside; it's covered in studs and spikes across the back, with one large square in the centre covered by a huge Ace of Spades patch that reads "Born to lose - Live to win", which she seems to think meant something to her, or symbolised something to her when she got it. In regards to pants, Jack similarly owns about two pairs of jeans, both crudely patched in some places and simply torn in others, and evidently all she had in regards to footwear was a pair of harness boots with the leather faded and peeling, encrusted with mud and dirt from ages long past--at least, to her. She feels like there is something, or a number of somethings, missing from the outfit, perhaps which was not given to her for whatever reason--but she suspects this to be little more than a sentimental suspicion and therefore not to be fully trusted.

Crime
Murder. That was her big bad thing she did before she was reborn. And what she remembers of it is that the man she killed had once been her friend--a friend she'd known for years, the only friend she can even remotely recall. But she also remembers that when she killed him she was overwrought with emotions of rage and despair--interspersed with the sensations of powerlessness, humiliation, and indignity that she now so loathes, which now elicit such a violent reaction from her. She feels that he had betrayed her, or taken advantage of her--that he had done something that had driven her, in a moment in which she was overwhelmed by those emotions, to destroy him. And yet lingering doubts and uncertainties remain and continue to haunt her: residual fears that she had been mistaken when she had acted upon that onslaught of confused but infuriated feelings taunt her. She seeks to understand what it was that happened concretely so that she can put these uncertainties to rest--and she fears the very same thing she seeks.

Other
Anything Else?

Theme Song
I don't mean to dwell
But I can't help myself
When I feel the vibe
And taste a memory
Of a time in life
When years seemed to stand still

I close my eyes
And sink within myself
Relive the gift of precious memories
In need of a fix called innocence

When did it begin?
The change to come was undetectable
The open wounds expose the importance of
Our innocence
A high that can never be bought or sold

Symbolic acts - so vivid
Yet at the same time
Were invisible

Savor what you feel and what you see
Things that may not seem important now
But may be tomorrow

Do you remember when
Things seemed so eternal?
Heroes were so real...
Their magic frozen in time
The only way to learn
Is be aware and hold on tight

I close my eyes
And sink within myself
Relive the gift of precious memories
In need of a fix called innocence

When did it begin?
The change to come was undetectable
The open wounds expose the importance of
Our innocence
A high that can never be bought or sold

Symbolic acts - so vivid
Yet at the same time
Were invisible
Other Other Theme Song (or, Painkiller really needs to make up his friggin' mind)
Pain - Infliction - Loathing ways
Excursions into harsh reality
Scorn - Diaspora - I'm now forced to be this way
Torrents of delusion - Placid winds erase

Torn away from the truth of my inner self
Life replaced, despise the sun that breeds disgrace
Wretched visions of a life that could never be

Gloom - Depression - Disarray
Conviction shrouded by malignancy
Visions scream forth - Corruption welcomes
Grasping at salvation in hopes of an escape
Retribution - Evoking rage
Resurgance through a lust for apathy
Cleanse - Unshackle - Pressure builds can't take the strain
Onward to defiance - Banish with disdain

Torn away from the truth of my inner self
Life replaced, despise the sun that breeds disgrace
Wretched visions of a life that could never be

Shatter illusion - Shed my confusion
Release possession to this regression
Permeate the rival, Glorified despisal
Dethrone conception, Sever intention
Release possession to this regression
Shatter illusion - Shed my confusion
Release possession to this regression

Pain - Infliction - Loathing ways
Excursions into harsh reality
Visions scream forth - Corruption welcomes
Grasping at salvation in hopes of an escape
Retribution - Evoking rage
Resurgance through a lust for apathy
Cleanse - Unshackle - Pressure builds can't take the strain
Onward to defiance - Banish with disdain


You skipped rule 16 you fool.