Post by Martyr on Jun 10, 2008 2:51:13 GMT
-Basics-
Name: Salim Matternich
Alias: Calls herself Martyr
Age: 15
Height: 5' 2"
Weight: 105.7 Lbs.
Gender: Female
Location: Often times found hiding underneath the bleacher at the gym or near the beach of Jump City.
Alliance: Neutral. She prefers to stay isolated, for fear of how her curse could be used.
-Appearance-
The main thing she carries in her pocket is a jagged blade; with this she harms herself before using her powers so they're more effective. She wears black chucks and a baggy, faded jean, along with a ruffled, short-sleeved black hoodie. As to keep her identity hidden, she tosses the hood over her head and tightens the strings so the hood snugly hides half of her hair. On her hands she wears gloves, for fear of hurting someone. The final touch to perfect the mediocre, mystery façade, she wears a pair of sunglasses.
The reason she hides her eyes is because the color: cordovan brown. Yet in the light, they’re practically blood rose shade. Her strawberry blonde hair is cropped short with the exception of her front locks, which touch her chin. Body wise, she’s quiet shapeless, though there is a small outward dent of her chest and her hips if you squint.
-Relations-
Lover: None
Crush: None
Past fling: None
Current fling: None
-Lineage-
Grandmother: Unknown
Grandfather: Unknown
Mom: Vivian Metternich (adoptive)
Dad: Nicholas Metternich (adoptive)
Siblings: Zechariah
-History-
Salim was abandoned on the stoop of the police station, so she doesn’t recollect who her parents were or what they looked like. But it never bothered her too much, because she was found by one of the police officers, Vivian Metternich. From then, Vivian fostered Salim under her roof, along with husband Nicholas. Things were good, and they became even better when Vivian gave birth to little Zechariah when she was nine. They were you’re average, happy, and normal family. Never once did the question of why Salim looked so different from her family cross her mind. They supported each other and loved each other like a normal family should. Right? Well, yes, but soon after Salim’s fourteenth birthday, things changed.
It started out as a thrilling day: the day for Zechariah to learn to ride a bicycle without training wheels. Both parents were busy, so Salim offered with a smile. But when she finally let go of his bicycle seat, and moved to run in front of him, she tripped on a gash in the concrete and fell to the ground, twisting her knee in the process. Her hands clasped her knee, and unbeknownst her, that touch had healed her kneecap, but the pain still lingered there, and at full force. Her brother stumbled off of his small vehicle and knelt beside the suffering girl, but he made a bad move and placed his hand on her hurting knee. The pain had faded away from her knee, but at the price of taking place in Zechariah’s. Salim leapt up –to her surprise- to aid her wounded brother, but he slowly backed away, shouting something about her hurting him. Confused, hurt by his words, and panicked, she dialed for her parents of her brother’s dilemma. And who were her parents to deny such a plea?
Carrying her brother home (with him shouting and squirming in her reach) Salim began to frantically explain what happened, but the only thing her ‘parents’ had heard was Zechariah’s statement: “Salim hurted me. She hurted my knee.” There were no words to protest against him, for they had died out in her throat. Hurt him? She hadn’t meant to hurt him! She didn’t even know what the hell she did! But apparently her parents just stared at her with… disappointment? Anger? And… Fear? Not bearing to glance at her, Nicholas ordered a quiet, “Salim, I-I want you to go to your room. Now.”
It all went downhill from there. Not later had the family suffered worse. Not just Zechariah, but the folks as well. It went from the annoying paper cut feeling, to nausea, to even gashes on hands while preparing supper. And every time, the accusation would sharpen in their eyes as they turned their attention to Salim. Finally, Vivian confronted the red-eyed girl with a warning. “Listen Salim. I don’t know what’s going on. But somehow, the pain that we can’t see but feel, all ends up leading to you. Five minutes. That’s what I’m giving you to get out of our house before I turn you in myself. If I see you out the window by that time, you’ll end up behind bars.” Those words. They sounded so cold. And out of the woman, who gave her a chance at life, was now telling her to get lost.
She only had little time to grab a few essential items before darting out the door. Not a ‘goodbye’ or even an acknowledgement was exchanged, as her legs carried her into the heart of the city. Her legs had ached, her eyes sore from crying, and most of all, and her heart was torn in two. If her so-called ‘gift’ could do anything, why not mend her internal hurt? The closest thing she could get to was the gym at the time of night, and even there barely anyone occupied it, save for her. Never did she think twice before stealing a mat for aerobics, and sneaking under the bleachers. Stealing, from now on was how she’d have to get by, and Salim (or Martyr, to hide her name) every night would tear at her palms, wishing she had never had been born with the power she had.
-Personality-
Because of her slightly traumatic past, Martyr’s once happy and bubbly personality has been corrupted into a withdrawn, frightened young woman. She avoids people at all costs. Quiet delicate when it comes down to other peoples’ opinions on account of her ‘curse.’ Has a tendency to flinch away from any kind of hand movements even when they could be something simple as crossing arms, or rubbing a temple; any kind of movement has developed from a startled reaction to just a plain habit. The reason is because she hates being touched. Salim believes she both doesn’t deserve people’s sympathy and doesn’t want to hurt them, for fear of losing control of her powers if she gets clingy and pathetic. But although she rarely speaks a word to anyone, she is very bright. She thinks out plans heavily before she makes any move to avoid getting caught and hurting people, to the point where she could slither through people with ease and has a fast hand when stealing. It’d be hard to crack the wall she’s built when it comes down to trust or any companionship, but deep down, she wishes someone knew who to break down it down and care for her like she used to be, to just feel normal if only slightly.
-Powers-
Pain Relieving or Burdening: By either picturing exactly where the pain could be, or touching someone’s wound, she can either take the pain or transfer it to someone else. But in order for that to work, she has to know exactly where the pain is, or come to skin-to-skin contact with said injury.
Wound stitching: Using her fingers in a weave-like movement, she can “sew up” the wound, but the illusion of pain is still there. Other side effects may include nausea, drowsiness, or numbness of the limb connected to wound.
Sense Strain: This power is dangerous, both for Martyr and her prey. Through eye contact, she can poke at the nervous system to make he body believe it’s in serious physical pain. But it takes a lot of energy. If not used wisely, it can lead to seizures or head trauma, even comas on both ends.
Paranoia: It’s a newly developed power she had recently acquired. This also requires making eye contact; Martyr can look into people’s minds and find out their worst fear. By using that fear, she can contort it into an illusion of maximum levels. But it only works if her victims truly buy the façade.
Stamina Steal: This power only works if Martyr has a very firm grip on someone. She can absorb energy, but considering how small she is, it’s most likely easy to shake her.
-Pictures-
By me:
(Watermelon.)
Name: Salim Matternich
Alias: Calls herself Martyr
Age: 15
Height: 5' 2"
Weight: 105.7 Lbs.
Gender: Female
Location: Often times found hiding underneath the bleacher at the gym or near the beach of Jump City.
Alliance: Neutral. She prefers to stay isolated, for fear of how her curse could be used.
-Appearance-
The main thing she carries in her pocket is a jagged blade; with this she harms herself before using her powers so they're more effective. She wears black chucks and a baggy, faded jean, along with a ruffled, short-sleeved black hoodie. As to keep her identity hidden, she tosses the hood over her head and tightens the strings so the hood snugly hides half of her hair. On her hands she wears gloves, for fear of hurting someone. The final touch to perfect the mediocre, mystery façade, she wears a pair of sunglasses.
The reason she hides her eyes is because the color: cordovan brown. Yet in the light, they’re practically blood rose shade. Her strawberry blonde hair is cropped short with the exception of her front locks, which touch her chin. Body wise, she’s quiet shapeless, though there is a small outward dent of her chest and her hips if you squint.
-Relations-
Lover: None
Crush: None
Past fling: None
Current fling: None
-Lineage-
Grandmother: Unknown
Grandfather: Unknown
Mom: Vivian Metternich (adoptive)
Dad: Nicholas Metternich (adoptive)
Siblings: Zechariah
-History-
Salim was abandoned on the stoop of the police station, so she doesn’t recollect who her parents were or what they looked like. But it never bothered her too much, because she was found by one of the police officers, Vivian Metternich. From then, Vivian fostered Salim under her roof, along with husband Nicholas. Things were good, and they became even better when Vivian gave birth to little Zechariah when she was nine. They were you’re average, happy, and normal family. Never once did the question of why Salim looked so different from her family cross her mind. They supported each other and loved each other like a normal family should. Right? Well, yes, but soon after Salim’s fourteenth birthday, things changed.
It started out as a thrilling day: the day for Zechariah to learn to ride a bicycle without training wheels. Both parents were busy, so Salim offered with a smile. But when she finally let go of his bicycle seat, and moved to run in front of him, she tripped on a gash in the concrete and fell to the ground, twisting her knee in the process. Her hands clasped her knee, and unbeknownst her, that touch had healed her kneecap, but the pain still lingered there, and at full force. Her brother stumbled off of his small vehicle and knelt beside the suffering girl, but he made a bad move and placed his hand on her hurting knee. The pain had faded away from her knee, but at the price of taking place in Zechariah’s. Salim leapt up –to her surprise- to aid her wounded brother, but he slowly backed away, shouting something about her hurting him. Confused, hurt by his words, and panicked, she dialed for her parents of her brother’s dilemma. And who were her parents to deny such a plea?
Carrying her brother home (with him shouting and squirming in her reach) Salim began to frantically explain what happened, but the only thing her ‘parents’ had heard was Zechariah’s statement: “Salim hurted me. She hurted my knee.” There were no words to protest against him, for they had died out in her throat. Hurt him? She hadn’t meant to hurt him! She didn’t even know what the hell she did! But apparently her parents just stared at her with… disappointment? Anger? And… Fear? Not bearing to glance at her, Nicholas ordered a quiet, “Salim, I-I want you to go to your room. Now.”
It all went downhill from there. Not later had the family suffered worse. Not just Zechariah, but the folks as well. It went from the annoying paper cut feeling, to nausea, to even gashes on hands while preparing supper. And every time, the accusation would sharpen in their eyes as they turned their attention to Salim. Finally, Vivian confronted the red-eyed girl with a warning. “Listen Salim. I don’t know what’s going on. But somehow, the pain that we can’t see but feel, all ends up leading to you. Five minutes. That’s what I’m giving you to get out of our house before I turn you in myself. If I see you out the window by that time, you’ll end up behind bars.” Those words. They sounded so cold. And out of the woman, who gave her a chance at life, was now telling her to get lost.
She only had little time to grab a few essential items before darting out the door. Not a ‘goodbye’ or even an acknowledgement was exchanged, as her legs carried her into the heart of the city. Her legs had ached, her eyes sore from crying, and most of all, and her heart was torn in two. If her so-called ‘gift’ could do anything, why not mend her internal hurt? The closest thing she could get to was the gym at the time of night, and even there barely anyone occupied it, save for her. Never did she think twice before stealing a mat for aerobics, and sneaking under the bleachers. Stealing, from now on was how she’d have to get by, and Salim (or Martyr, to hide her name) every night would tear at her palms, wishing she had never had been born with the power she had.
-Personality-
Because of her slightly traumatic past, Martyr’s once happy and bubbly personality has been corrupted into a withdrawn, frightened young woman. She avoids people at all costs. Quiet delicate when it comes down to other peoples’ opinions on account of her ‘curse.’ Has a tendency to flinch away from any kind of hand movements even when they could be something simple as crossing arms, or rubbing a temple; any kind of movement has developed from a startled reaction to just a plain habit. The reason is because she hates being touched. Salim believes she both doesn’t deserve people’s sympathy and doesn’t want to hurt them, for fear of losing control of her powers if she gets clingy and pathetic. But although she rarely speaks a word to anyone, she is very bright. She thinks out plans heavily before she makes any move to avoid getting caught and hurting people, to the point where she could slither through people with ease and has a fast hand when stealing. It’d be hard to crack the wall she’s built when it comes down to trust or any companionship, but deep down, she wishes someone knew who to break down it down and care for her like she used to be, to just feel normal if only slightly.
-Powers-
Pain Relieving or Burdening: By either picturing exactly where the pain could be, or touching someone’s wound, she can either take the pain or transfer it to someone else. But in order for that to work, she has to know exactly where the pain is, or come to skin-to-skin contact with said injury.
Wound stitching: Using her fingers in a weave-like movement, she can “sew up” the wound, but the illusion of pain is still there. Other side effects may include nausea, drowsiness, or numbness of the limb connected to wound.
Sense Strain: This power is dangerous, both for Martyr and her prey. Through eye contact, she can poke at the nervous system to make he body believe it’s in serious physical pain. But it takes a lot of energy. If not used wisely, it can lead to seizures or head trauma, even comas on both ends.
Paranoia: It’s a newly developed power she had recently acquired. This also requires making eye contact; Martyr can look into people’s minds and find out their worst fear. By using that fear, she can contort it into an illusion of maximum levels. But it only works if her victims truly buy the façade.
Stamina Steal: This power only works if Martyr has a very firm grip on someone. She can absorb energy, but considering how small she is, it’s most likely easy to shake her.
-Pictures-
By me:
(Watermelon.)
