Name:
Belle Eleanor Birdbrooke
Nickname:
Well, Myself and Anna have names that can’t really be shortened…
Age:
Sixteen, I’m sure. Yes, sixteen. I’ve been told I don’t look it though.
Power:
Oh, well about that- I’m an ecopath. I’m connected directly and can communicate with, influence, manipulate and control nature: plants and natural phenomena, such as the weather to a certain degree, water, animals to a certain degree and the matter and energy of which all these things are composed. I can survive in any natural environment on earth. This doesn’t include nuclear.
Because I can um… communicate with nature itself, I become instantly familiar with my surroundings, the connection is so deep that the earth can respond to my emotions and desires (blossoming with flowers and calming weather in the locale area when happy, shifting the landscape to gain the advantage in a fight, ) I can purify, heal and generally influence the health of nature. And considering the fact that I am helping the environment, plants and animals act favorably towards me. To do this, I obviously need plants around. I hate big cities, and although they have parks, it is not really enough for my power. It does work indoors though, I’m not sure why. I also need to be able to control my emotions, as the earth responds to them.
Sexuality:
Heterosexual. I know, boring, but I’m not changing y’know.
Which Side?:
Let me think… It might be good… sorry, I have a terrible memory. Yes, it’s good. Am I happy to be on the ‘good’ side? I actually am, but I’m not really going to… um … lose any friends over the division…
Likes:
- Nature
- Her friends (yes, the flowers and her real friends)
- Mother Earth ”She’s really nice”
- Air
- The colour green
- Delicateness
- Buttery popcorn
- Storybooks
Dislikes:
- Ignorance and stubbornness
- Reality
- The jerks of Maldoy...
- When people compare her to Anna
- People who smoke
- Blood
- Killers of people or animals.
Fears:
- Humans will destroy nature
- Words… they terrify her. Words could kill someone.
- Extinction
Personality:
Belle, despite being surrounded by the dirt and grit of the world she's been forced to live in, is innocent. She is as pure and gentle as the summer breeze. Her joy and mirth are infectious to the point that it's practically a disease. Belle is just a smidge crazy. She sees things differently. She’s also slightly oblivious of hatred to her, if there is any that comes up. Belle is a tiny bit odd, most would say about her at least. She floats away very easily, as if her attention is always being caught by other things. There's so much going on in her head sometimes that she can't even pay attention to the outside world. Sometimes she'll snap out of it, and be surprised to find herself where she is, totally thinking she was in some country just a second before, and talking to a person she can't remember a second later. She's just odd like that, as if she's in two places at once. She likes to make chains out of flowers and wear them around her wrists and head like a circlet
It didn't seem so strange when she was younger and claiming that fairies lived among the flowers. Little girls often imagine things, after all. Perhaps there was some denial there, too, that blinded them from the fact that her love of the gardens was less of a fantasy and more like an obsession. But then she grew older and quieter and she still spent her time out among the plants, lying among the flowers and dancing with her favourite tree, a great willow near the school, when the wind pushes its wisps around gracefully. That was when it became inevitable Belle was yet another peculiar child. She isn't particularly problematic, though, mostly gentle and quiet and curious. She's more helpful than harmful, caring for the plants and protecting them from the rest of the school who take to roaming through her declared paradise.
She wishes they could understand like she does the way the plants are like a puzzle, like clockwork, and to her it is the most fascinating thing. She wishes they could feel the deep peace and contentedness that she does when in the middle of the night she reaches up and fiddles with the canopy of vines strung over her bed as the stars watch through her open window. She wishes they could breathe summer and dream of distant jungles like she does. She wishes that they could know what it means to lie in the gardens and just be.
History:
A long time ago I was told the soft lie that life isn’t difficult, that true love is there, just as long as you know where to look. I find myself searching for it, I look behind me and in every nook and cranny I see, but it is never there. I don’t like the past, and though it may not be the most horrible All I know is that I’m happy now, in the present. But if I have to go back to the past I will- You can come with me if you please.
Once apon a time, a young girl sat on a bed of grass. The girl looked like a normal young girl- unruly blonde hair, dark eyes and a gap inbetween her front teeth. The girl was in the garden, as you may be able to tell. She was trying to forget. The little girl knows what happened to her father. She knows more than a seven year old should know and she must keep it a secret or fear for her own life. The girl, Belle, grew up in Lousiana. She always found the state gorgeous and filled with rich history. The girl was glad to live there. She was the last girl to be born in the family, and had two older sisters named Anna and Nina, who obviously envied each other. Her family is larger than It should be, but is filled with boys, and girls are a minority of the Birdbrookes. Her mother is always busy, so the young girl talks to mother nature instead. Her family finds her very strange, something that the girl doesn’t understand. The girl is older now, but she still is the same. Teenage Belle feels like her fathers death is unimportant so she just forgets like she hoped she would. Next to her house there is an orphanage. The girl made her first friends in there. The children are interesting. The children that woke up one day to find themselves forgotten and unwanted — sons and daughters of the breathless, whose mothers are ghosts and fathers are faded memories — were sent to the orphanage. She was old enough and smart enough to figure that out. The children from the orphanage know something is weird about her. The girl can control things humans shouldn’t be able to. Her sister informs her that they must go to a place called Maldoy Academy. Her past could be worse, the girl thinks.
Anything else: She can speak Arabic.
