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Perdita Winkler

"When a bird is put in a cage, all it can think about is escape."

0 · 887 views · located in The Vigilante Village, Tennessee

a character in “The Vigilante Village”, as played by katyisaladybug



{"Let me be a witty fool rather than a foolish wit.”}



|{Full Name}|
Perdita Anne Winkler

Friends and acquaintances call her Perry, but some people, such as Joel Stone, have the habit of teasing her with the moniker, "Periwinkle".


Labels herself as a pansexual, but is for the most part undecided.

New York City


With round chocolate eyes and blonde hair that shimmers like pale gold, Perry has been both renowned and criticized for her unique, youthful appearance. She is thin, and at the midget height of 5'2'', is naturally small in stature. Her skin is as white as a cloud, and being of Irish decent, it doesn't tan easily. She has a ski-slope nose that she thinks looks like a pig's snout, and her two front teeth are unusually large in size. Although she usually dresses for comfort instead of style, she has the habit of wearing bright colors, and on occasion, decorates herself with very creative accessories. Most of her skin is free from any blemishes, except for her backside, which is covered from top to bottom with mysterious and disturbing burn scars. Perry's voice is melodious, light, and airy, and she has a certain quirk of blinking rapidly whenever taken by surprise.

Perdita was born with the power of air manipulation, meaning that she is able to generate blasts of air and wind, all the while being able to control the air around her. She can even use this power to make herself jump higher, run faster, and propel enemies away from her with a simple flick of her wrists. She cannot produce tornadoes yet and has not reached her full potential in regards to her abilities, but Joel has promised her that by the end of the summer, she'll be able to fully utilize her powers. She hopes he's right.

|{Hobbies || Talents}|
This girl has always found pleasure in collecting small trinkets, whether they be ticket stubs, buttons, or crystals. She has a bit of an interest in grunge music from the 90's, and finds joy in exploring new places. When she lived in New York, she'd find ways to sneak into theatres without a ticket, and so she has a superb knowledge of contemporary and Shakespearean plays. She's also a bit of a kleptomaniac, and has been known to try and steal tiny things from stores without getting caught. She is an expert in this subject, and has never been caught shoplifting. Due to her powers, experiences out on the street, and small size, Perry is quicker than a hare when it comes to sprinting, and can even outrun grown men. Although she's not a master at it, she can lockpick to a degree.

|{Fears || Weaknesses}|
Perhaps the only two fears Perry holds are the fear of containment and the fear of her father. As for her weaknesses, she has quite a bit. She's not very physically strong, and has no scrap of muscle on her bony arms or chicken legs. She's so weak, that sometimes she has trouble opening doors. Unlike some of the others at the camp, she has no knowledge of hand-to-hand combat. In fact, every time she's tried to punch someone, she's either missed or has ended up breaking her own fingers. She's a procrastinator, and despite the fact that she likes to explore, she gets lost quite easily. Perhaps her biggest weakness is her emotional vulnerability, which has almost cost Perdita her life more than once...


{Vibrant, Curious, Sensitive, Fractured.}
Perdita can be thought of more as a feral creature with a heart than an actual human being. On the one hand, she's innocent, street-smart, and sweeter than the circumstances that surround her. On the the other, she lacks some important aspects of social grace, finds it easier to escape her problems rather than confront them, and is an emotional whirlwind of oversensitivity and insecurity. Fortunately, she is able to hide those last three things with a bit of charm, curiosity and youthful demeanor, but they still show from time to time during the midst of trying situations.

It's quite clear upon meeting the girl that she cares more about the world around her than her actual well-being. She flocks to culture and science like a moth to light, and is one who finds joy in education and learning, as she never got to experience those two things much in her past life. Although she is a dreamer and idealist to the most extraordinary degree, Perdita still has a bit of a common sense within her that keeps her from flying too far into both fantasy and optimism. She'll try to help a soul whenever she can, but she can't always promise the best results. She's much better at listening to people's problems than solving them, as she has a few problems of her own that still need solving.

All in all, Perdita is an escape artist (which can be taken as both a blessing and a curse). She can be unpredictable, and not always in a playful, pleasant way. Even she can't unlock the mystery that is her fractured demeanor. She is a soul lost at sea, and one day, she hopes that there will be someone or something that can bring her back to shore. Even so, she does find pleasure in sinking through her sorrows. What she doesn't understand is that those who are depressed are not enlightened, but captured.



Perdita Winkler has tried to kill herself three times.

The first time she attempted suicide was about the age of fourteen. She was sitting in her bathroom, contemplating how and why her life went wrong. Of course, there were the obvious factors; a dead mother, an alcoholic father, a crappy apartment in the middle of the Bronx, and no job or schooling to keep her busy. Then there were the factors that nobody knew. Her dad's gang members had no idea how much he beat her in the middle of the night while he was intoxicated, and perhaps fate itself did not know whether or not the girl had a bright future. All she had were her crappy wind-powers and collection of stolen items. No friends or family to rely on. She took a handful of pills and opened up her mouth. Due to cowardice, she threw all of the capsules in the garbage instead.

A year later, she tried to kill herself a second time. Things had gotten a tad bit brighter; she found herself a job working at a pretzel stand in Central Park, and she had actually formed an aspiration to become a psychologist. Of course, the upshot to that was having her backside completely burned by hot coffee and a clothing iron, not to mention the time her dad's friends came over and took away her virginity without her permission. She tried the pills a second time, and she actually got them in her mouth, but she only swallowed one or two. The rest she spit out. While she cried on her bed that night, she blamed Stockholm syndrome for her survival.

Cut marks on her wrist and marijuana in her system, Perdita made the decision to kill herself for a third time on her seventeenth birthday. This time, she wanted to make sure her death was permanent, so she traded a bottle of pills for the Brooklyn Bridge. She was absolutely set on dying until she changed her mind about twenty feet away from the edge of the water. Fortunately, with her limited aerokinesis, she was able to suspend herself midair for a few seconds before gently floating down into the East River. She didn't cry that night because she knew death wasn't what she wanted. What she really wanted was escape. Freedom. Liberation from the pain. So it was in that moment, as she floated in the water, her eyes trained on the dim stars in the sky, that Perdita prayed for the first time in her life. She prayed for escape, freedom, and liberation from the pain, as well as many other things that she needed.

Lucky for her, the next day, her prayer was answered in the form of Joel Stone.

Not only did he save her life, but he completely understood her and vowed to take all of her pain away, as well as make her stronger. She believed him, and he woke her up from her nightmare. She lived with him for two weeks. For a while, things were painfully quiet, but soon the two of them began to open up to each other. They filled the holes in one another, and soon enough, Perry was embarking on a road trip-journey to Tennessee.

And while the fourth time she tries to kill herself is still out of sight, Perdita is hoping the Vigilante Village can finally fix her broken life by helping her create the things she never got to make: friendships.


Recently, Perry has been feeling weird aching and burning sensations on her backside. She doesn't know why they happen, and for some reason, she can't take the stinging away with painkillers. They are random and unpredictable, and despite the fact that they hurt incredibly, she hasn't told anyone about them. (Not even Joel.) What's weirder; just the other day, she pulled out a tiny white feather from out of one of her burn scars.

|{Face Claim}
Hannah Murray

Character Dialogue || #46C7C7

So begins...

Perdita Winkler's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Khufu Nemesokar Character Portrait: Perdita Winkler Character Portrait: Nike ReMere Character Portrait: Kennedy MacClaire Character Portrait: Alexa Toretti Character Portrait: Sara Castitas Character Portrait: Joel Stone Character Portrait: Peter Alkaev Character Portrait: Nathan Maris Character Portrait: Lucian Blight Character Portrait: Seraphiel Lien Thompson Character Portrait: Lily Maris Character Portrait: Matt Alkaev Character Portrait: Mihyo Yoo Character Portrait: Kian MacClaire Character Portrait: Joseph Craven Character Portrait: Noel Fairchild Character Portrait: Desmond Walters Character Portrait: Cara Cadwalder
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{ Day 1 ~ Orientation }



The silver car decreased its speed once it came to the sandy, decrepit parking lot of the campsite. A rustic country fence separated the far-off cabins from the clearing, and the rolling Smoky Mountains of Tennessee were looming overhead like watchtowers. The sky was blue, cloudless, and welcoming. Everything was calm and quiet.

The golden-haired girl turned off the radio as she leaned towards the side window next to the passenger’s seat. She placed a hand on the glass, her eyelashes flitting faster than the wings of dragonflies as she processed the colors, the textures, and the sounds.
Joel stopped the car in front of the fence and turned off the engine.

“Well this is it,” he said after a few moments of silence. “You’re finally here. You made it.”

She gazed out the front window, her hands tugging at the bottom of her simple white v-neck. Her eyes darted around in their sockets, taking in the last of the scenery.

“There’s no one here,” she muttered.

“That’s because I had to get here early in order to help with the orientation,” he replied. “Just wait a couple of minutes, and this entire camp is going to be packed. Trust me.”

She shifted in her seat a little, uncrossing her legs and tightening her grip upon the pink crystal in her hands. It was her good luck charm, but he didn’t know that.

He placed a hand on her knee. “You nervous, Perry?”

She sucked on her lower lip. “A little, yeah,” she said with stiffened breath.

“Don’t be. You’ll get along just fine here,” he reassured her for the tenth time. “You’ll make friends and as soon as you know it, this place will become your second home. That’s what happened to me. That’s what’s happened to every single person who’s come here. You think I’m crazy now, but just you wait, Little Miss Perriwinkle.”

Giggling a bit, she turned her head to face his beaming visage. For a moment, he almost looked her age.

Jumping out of her seat, she wrapped her arms around him, and he did the same. In those few seconds, they were as inseparable as conjoined twins. They shared the same blood, the same heart, and the same mind, and although they were seven years apart, they practically shared a soul.

“Thank you, Joel Stone,” she muttered, almost feeling tears behind her eyes. “Thank you for everything.”

Their arms still around each other, he patted her on the back, his eyes gently closed. “No problem,” he said. “I figured you needed this. I’m sure you need this…”

Finally, they both released their grips on one another, and began to gather their things. She put the pink gemstone in her pocket, while he popped out the Led Zeppelin album from the CD player and put it back in its case.

She opened the door, and could feel the intensity of the fresh country air waft into her nose and beat against her alabaster skin. Joel opened the trunk, and quickly, the two of them grabbed their suitcases. Once they had everything, he locked the car, and led her through the gateway; two wooden planks with a sign on top that read VIGILANTE VILLAGE – EST. 1986. The letters were composed of white hemp cords that looked as though they would never fade away despite their years in the rotting summer sun.

Cabins and wooden huts that looked as though the Cherokee had built them circled around the man and girl as though they were in the middle of some ancient European square. He led her to a bulletin board near a large flagpole. There were two banners waving at the top. The first, obviously, was the American flag. The second was colored a light blue and contained a decorative crest composed of steel, seven stars, and a shield.

“That’s the flag for the W.A.O.H.: the World Association of Official Heroes,” Joel said once he noticed that her head was trained upwards. “They’re the ones who provide the funding for this place.”

He pointed to a paper on the bulletin board, which was green and had a bunch of slots for people to write their names in.

“When you find a place you want to room in, just remember to come back here and write the number of your cabin, and then your full name.”

“Okay,” she said. “Don’t know if I’ll remember that, but I’ll do it.”

He nodded, and their eyes locked. The caramel highlights within Joel’s dark hair glinted like gunmetal in the shimmering sun.

“Alright, Perriwinkle…this is where I leave you. Unfortunately, I have important matters to attend to.”

She snorted. “Important my ass!” she teased. “It’s not like you’re in the Bronx chasing after crooks and shooting up drug lords. You can unwind, y’know. We’re in the South now.”

She had said her last sentence in a drawl that partially mimicked his. He laughed and placed both of his hands on her shoulders.

“You’ll understand someday…when you’re in the same position as me and mentoring some little spunky girl with wind powers.”

She snorted again. “That’s a stupid thing to do! Why would I ever do that!”

They hugged again, although not as tightly as before.

“I’ll see you later, Perriwinkle,” he said before quickly disappearing into the dust.

The girl tightened her grip on her suitcase, twirled her lucky stone around in her denim pocket, and without delay, chose a path.

Every so often, she would look left and right, making sure that nobody was following her or that there were no ghosts around to haunt her or anything. Eventually, she found a cozy-looking cabin situated just underneath a large basswood tree. There was a small plaque on the door that had the number ’12’ nailed upon it with wooden planks. Since ‘12’ was a lucky number of hers, she took it as a sign to go in.

The creaky door slammed behind her, and the smell of pine wafted into her nose. The temperature was surprisingly cool and comfortable, and there was quite a lot of light. She smiled at the sights of the sofa, coffee table, and full-size refrigerator behind the island counter near the backmost wall. This wasn’t your regular, crappy, mosquito-infested cabin that she had read about in children’s books.

She groaned when she saw the sight of the ladder leading upstairs to the beds. Still, it wasn’t a skin off her back. Tightly grabbing onto the handle of her rolling suitcase, she propelled herself into the air with a large blast of wind, and gently floated down like a dandelion seed until her feet reached the second floor. With all her strength, she lifted her suitcase up upon the edge of the farthest bed, and curled her body onto the remaining part of the mattress.

This was it. This was the first time she would be in a place of social interaction with kids her age. It was tragic to think about, but it was happening and she was scared and excited and at the same time, contemplating why she was alive.

It would be an adventure far more entertaining than the ones she had created on the streets of New York.

Hearing sounds coming from outside, Perry lifted herself off the bed and scurried to the nearest window. She watched the teens her age pass by with wide eyes. She wanted to greet them, but at the same time, felt like a queen safe inside her castle tower. So in that moment, she decided to stay inside. Perhaps she didn’t need to go up to them. Perhaps they would come to her…



After leaving Perdita, Joel put both of his hands inside his jean pockets and sauntered towards the staff cabin. He had important matters on his mind, but at the same time, hoped he would be able to fool around with old friends and meet some of the new staff that had been hired during the spring.

Once he came to the large cabin that almost looked three-stories high in length, he produced a pair of silver keys, twisted them through the lock, and walked inside.

It was dark, meaning that no other staff members besides him had been inside the building yet. However, that still didn’t mean that Clover Collins, the lascivious woman in charge of the Vigilante Village, wasn’t inside her office.

He came to her quarters and knocked on the door, which was about a quarter of the way open.

“Clover?” he called. “It’s me, Joel. Are you in here?”

He pushed upon the knob a bit and realized that there was nobody home despite the fact that the lights were turned on.

Right away, he noticed the envelope upon her desk that had his name written on it in bright red letters. He strode into the room, which smelled heavily of lipstick and jade incense, took the envelope between his hands, tore it open, and read the letter inside…

Dear Joel (or if you’re not Joel, which I doubt you are, whoever may be reading this),

I am currently away in Georgia dealing with some important, confidential matters that are of no importance to you or anyone else. While I am gone, I ask that you take care of the camp for me in my absence. God knows how little I do for this godforsaken place anyways. You folks practically keep the site in one piece. Make the kiddies happy and entertain them as best you can. I’ll be back in a day or less. (Hopefully…)

XOXO and a lick or two,

Clover Collins

He folded it and placed the letter, as well as the envelope, back upon her desk. He raised a brow. Important matters? The vagueness of it all planted a seed of suspicion inside his head. Clover Collins was not a woman to trust easily. It was no secret that she had been a cold-blooded killer in her past life; working with a band of deadly assassins who had occasionally affiliated themselves with the mafia. Yet, somehow, she was let off the hook and eventually elected the leader of the Vigilante Village. She was charming, headstrong, and down-to-earth, but certainly not clear. Her motives were unreadable. Her true opinions, well…those were things that only the good gods above knew.

And yet she depended on him. She let him know what was going on, despite the fact that they hardly ever talked. Still, there was a tone she used whenever she talked to him that never failed to place tension in the air. She used charismatic words and gestures whenever she saw him, yet at the same time, her cat-eyes always glared at his with malicious irises that just screamed distrust. She didn’t like him. He knew it. He didn’t care why she didn’t like him, but at the same time, he wanted to know why…

Snapping out of his thoughts, Joel searched through the drawers of her desk until he found a green clipboard and a ballpoint pen. He grabbed a couple of the papers from inside the filing cabinet in the back of the room, and headed back outside, where he sat upon the front porch steps of the staff cabin.

The papers he had attained from Clover’s office had the names of the campers on them, their powers, ages, hometowns, and physical descriptions. There were even a few pictures next to the names of teenagers who had attended the camp in previous years. Relaxed and sturdy, Joel clicked the pen and languidly watched the kids enter the Village. As he checked off the names of the young adults who arrived, he finally had the feeling that this summer would be a great one.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Khufu Nemesokar Character Portrait: Perdita Winkler Character Portrait: Nike ReMere Character Portrait: Kennedy MacClaire Character Portrait: Alexa Toretti Character Portrait: Sara Castitas Character Portrait: Joel Stone Character Portrait: Peter Alkaev Character Portrait: Nathan Maris Character Portrait: Lucian Blight Character Portrait: Seraphiel Lien Thompson Character Portrait: Lily Maris Character Portrait: Matt Alkaev Character Portrait: Mihyo Yoo Character Portrait: Kian MacClaire Character Portrait: Joseph Craven Character Portrait: Noel Fairchild Character Portrait: Desmond Walters Character Portrait: Cara Cadwalder
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Sara watched as the trees whisked past. Majestic boughs stretched over her, casting dappled shadows that fell behind her as she ran. The battleaxe and twin hammers strapped to her back and thighs, respectively, gave her incredible stamina. She smiled and leapt agilely over a fallen log, the knives inside her robotic leg lending her speed and and adding height to her jumps. Sara slowed and her power core hummed and glowed as she caught her breath.

Feeling her semi-machine lungs expand to accommodate more oxygen, she sighed contentedly as she gazed at the wooden signs with the familiar words emblazoned in white- VIGILANTE VILLAGE – EST. 1986. Smiling and readjusting the bag on her back, Sara walked into camp.

She wandered around, weaving contentedly between the cabins she remembered so fondly. She briefly contemplated how many of her old friends would be gone.

Sara sighed and headed towards her favorite place in the entire camp- the arena. She couldn't wait to train, and with her new armory of this year, she was well prepared to kick some serious butt. She walked into the ring, drawing a scimitar and throwing down a small doubloon-looking coin. The coin shimmered and started to billow out in gold clouds that looked quite a bit like cotton candy. Sara tapped into her machine, enabling her aimbot and damage meters. The golden pirate that had emerged from the tiny coin lit up in colors, much like a heat detector.

Sara grinned- she'd been training with this small device almost all year, and it knew her style. A real challenger to her battle skills. She watched her opponent's color readings closely for indication of an opening. They circled, and with a quick feint and roll to the side from the cyborg, the battle was on.

The golden warrior leapt back, his agility and ability matching hers. Sara held her scimitar towards the pirate, and as expected, he attempted to disarm her by slicing at her wrists. She drew up the blade almost instantaneously, deflecting her opponent's blade and flicking it to the ground, immediately seizing his openings and stabbing down where his unguarded arms were.

He leapt backwards into the air, his agility enhanced as he did a flip. "Just like something I'd do," Sara muttered to herself. "I'm such a show-off." She swept as his ankles as he landed, slicing his left foot clean off and the right severely maimed. The pirate hobbled towards her, his speed and agility decreased but still retaining his brute strength. She exchanged a flurry of parries and thrusts with the warrior, eventually chipping off his fingers and a large chunk of his abdomen. He seemed to be behind today.

Landing a few more lucky hits, the pirate eventually sputtered to a stop, and Sara drew a small handgun and shot him in between the eyes. The pirate shattered into golden shards of glass, which shivered and flew up into the air, meshing and landing in Sara's palm as a coin once again. She exited the arena, her adrenaline and excitement for the new year pumping. She rubbed her warm power core in between her shoulder blades, and meandered towards a large tree where she leapt vertically into its welcoming boughs. She sat, dangling her feet- one metal and one flesh- over the edge of the thick limb. She watched the entrance, noticing campers begin to wander in.

Feeling her power core finally cooling down, she set her path in a beeline to her cabin of last year- Cabin Twelve, under the basswood tree. She pushed the door open hesitantly, listening for sounds and emotion. She sensed a feeling of brief wonder from upstairs.

Shrugging, Sara walked into the huge living room, swiftly scaling the ladder with silent footsteps. Slinging her bag down again onto a bed with no regard to the assorted deadly weapons and bombs contained inside, she quietly approached the girl.

"Hello! I'm Sara. Second year here at the Village. What's your name?" She offered a friendly hand to the girl, who had a seemingly innocent face and wide, doe-like eyes. Sara smiled- this girl was a whirlwind of emotion that she had no care to decipher.

The cyborg girl only knew that this new camper held adventure and memories-to-be in store, along with everyone new this year.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Perdita Winkler Character Portrait: Sara Castitas
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Mihyo had already been toying with her phone for minutes as their car speed through the same scenery of the country side. All the trees and grass ran together as the car woodshed by them, eventually Mihyo didnt even bother staring at the whirlwind of analogous greens and occasional browns and whites signifying the ones that had died and shriveled up into the void of uselessness. Kind of like Mihyo's hopes of actually finding a decent signal to access her social networks. She was probably missing out on some important news on some very important things happening in a very important random which a very important person like her was apart of. And if she missed it and fell behind she'd be label as a social pariah and have to settle with fortune telling for a living because she wouldn't be allowed to show her face. Yes, Mihyo was definitely a drama queen.

"Is literally everyone in the countryside a turtle and don't have need for a cellular network?" Mihyo groaned and let her head harshly fall onto the back of her seat.

"Mihyo, they don't have a need for towers because they can actually occupy themselves with things other than their smartphones-assuming they actually use smartphones." Mr. Yoo smiled as he looked into his rear view mirror to glance at his daughter.

"Okay Mr.When-I-Was-Your-Age-I-Brought-Dead-Things-Back-To-Life-And-Played-With-Those." Mihyo said in a mocking tone. Watching time had its limit since they don't sell 50 inch temporal bubbles anywhere. And her garden only had so much space! And the devil would have to damn her to hell before she would heavy lift for fun; even though she altered the weight of the object she likes to think she put in some effort.

Mr. Yoo sighed and Mrs. Yeon spoke up. "Listen, we know you're not happy about this whole hero camp thing and I can't say we're happy to send our daughter to some foreign place either but, we don't know any other Chronomagicians and your current Spatial Magician teacher only knows so much," Mrs. Yeon turned around and grabbed her daughters hand. "But if you want to learn control you have to do this."

Mihyo sighed and caressed her mother's hand. "Okay, you might be right or whatever." Mihyo mumbled.This made Mrs. Yeon smile.

"Oh look, we're here!" Mr.Yoo exclaimed. Their 2014 Blue Nissan Altima pulled up to some old looking campgrounds that was big enough to be a village. Mihyo stared at it in awe. Think about how many WiFi routers it'd take to cover the whole village! The bandwidth would probably be horrible too. This was going to be a long "vacation" as her parents liked to call it.

Mihyo stepped out of the car and got her two lavender suitcases and one royal purple duffle bag. She sighed and turned on her heels to face her parents. She wanted to cry but she was pretty sure that'd cause her parents to cry and when Mr.Yoo cries its a mess so Mihyo would like to avoid anything of that sort. After the usual goodbyes and Mr.Yoo denying that he was crying and it was probably the pollen in the air, Mihyo set off to find her cabin.

After a few minutes of frustrated searching, she found out that there were no assignments and it was basically a free for all. Mihyo thought this was totally stupid. Out of anger, she used her space fabric manipulation on a random door and made it lighter so it'd be easier to tear off the hinges. You'd think she was kidding but a princess like her didn't deserve this hard labor and she yanked the cabin door off that happened to be marked with the number 12.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Perdita Winkler Character Portrait: Sara Castitas Character Portrait: Peter Alkaev Character Portrait: Matt Alkaev Character Portrait: Mihyo Yoo
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|{ American Authors | Hit It }|
"I say if you don't know, then you go slow."

Nike had been drawing for the past two hours in the back seat of her moms mini van right before she got sick and well- barfed. Now she was listening to music now, already passed the American border an hour ago, she knew driving to the camp took awhile, but this year felt like forever. She looked around outside, and saw trees, crops, small farm houses. Nike found that oddly comforting as her mom and dad talked in the front seat, unaware of their daughter staring out the window like a teenaged hipster. Nike always thought her parents were so cute together, both of them smiling- laughing at each other. They always had time to make fun of each other, and Nike smiled at the fact that they both pointed out flaws but accepted them. Nike shuddered when she remember that one memory of them arguing, right when she was a new born, over the fact when the doctor told them about Nike's power.

Nike turned on some Twenty One Pilots as she tried knocking that memory out. She tried thinking of camp as she did, and let out a happy sigh, all those happy thoughts flooding in made her feel warm, and then she remembered Matt. Yeah Matt. Nike had developed just a small crush on him last year, but being separated from him over the school year made her want to cry. He was like her other half. He really understood her in a way no one else did. His bleach blonde hair, and gorgeous smile flooded into her mind as she shook her head and blushed. Hopefully she'll be able to meet him today. The one thing she remembers most about camp is cliff jumping. And yeah into water. Her and Peter would always jump in, and Nike would always have to pull Peter out of the water when he froze up. She chuckled at the thought, and then watched her dad turn around. "Hey Kiddo." He said, while Nike turned her music off, and took off her headphones.

"Yeah Dad?" Nike mumbled, her voice happy, but a slight darkness hidden within it. "Me and your mom want you to enjoy your summer here ok? We'll miss you, but promise us one thing-" As he stopped he looked at Nike's mom exchanged a look, then placed his hand within hers and while fingers joined together. "Don't do anything.. Dangerous. You remember how scared we were last time you pulled.. Something like that off." He said, while tears formed in Nike's eye. "Nike he had to say it.. Were sorry ok?" Her mom said, without taking her eyes off the road. "Yeah.. It's ok. Just don't bring it up again." Nike muttered, a lump in her throat.

Soon they pulled up to the camp and Nike stepped out of the car, staring at the flag for a second and smiling. She looked at her mom, and dad and they got out and hugged her. In unison they both said "love you" and hugged and kissed her. Nike nodded and grabbed her bags and backpack while she walked away, watching her mom and dad drive away. She got registered, and hiked up and away to her cabin, hearing chatting inside already. She stumbled in and threw her bags on a bottom bunk, far enough away from all the other girls. She was now situated in cabin 12. This was her home now.