[Ella Robbinson]

Ella Everett Robbinson
FACE CLAIM: Odette Annable

♦ THE BASICS ♦

AGE: Twenty-Six
GENDER: Female
ORIENTATION: Heterosexual
POSITION: Power Trainer @ Bellefonte

♦ THE ABILITY ♦

POWER: Hemokinesis: The ability to manipulate her blood in many forms; her own or someone else's, in or out of the body. Primarily she only ever uses the ability to settle the rhythm of a person's heart in order to soothe emotional duress. At the absolute best of her ability, fifteen litres of blood is able to be manipulated within its own constraints. The average adult individual harbours an approximate five litres. This is a volume of moving, living blood; because it already has a rhythm, it is easier to coincide a change or a slower run.

LIMITATIONS: She cannot create blood. She can't change the form or density of blood. She can't heal herself or anyone else by any means. As it is with everything, the bigger the change the more taxing it can be. This amount would be limited greatly if dealing with a stagnant volume of blood.

SIDE-EFFECTS: To keep herself alive and well, the ability is very personally taxing. It takes a lot of care and precision not to be physically affected by an ability that can't ever really be shut off. So consistent headaches can coincide with using the ability, and using the ability is an absolute status. It is also increasingly difficult to drown out the rhythm of other people's heartbeats; the more people, the more prone she is to debilitating headaches. Without constant attention to her own blood cycle, she can suffer from severe muscle cramps. Emotional distress brought by an elevated heartrate that isn't carefully settled. Also, she suffers from occasional nosebleeds.

♦ THE FREEFORM ♦

MARK MY WORDS

A recently adopted seven year old is sent to see a therapist not long after her first and only homing.

She's talkative. She's got a new mother named Amelia, but she doesn't know how to treat her like a mother. She's smart enough to know that her real birth mother has passed, and suddenly her very real father has "left" her. She's convinced despite the difficulty that her life will go back to normal soon.

This - the therapist and the new mother and the new home in St. Paul - are all a phase.

She gives young Ella an assignment. She feels a very strong connection to her father, so she's asked to write letters to him. They are hers to keep or hand out as she sees fit.

I JUST WANT TO RUN TO YOU

Ella, Age Seven
Dad,

I'm not mad at you. I promise I'll forgive you.

Can you just come get me? It's been ages since I've seen you.

And. Ummm... This family. This lady. I don't really like them. Who are they?

Please come back. I really need you to.

Lovelovelove,
Ella.

YOU'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME

Teachers notice a clear discrepancy in their newest student's behaviour. Ella is disruptive for her age; she's relatively unapologetic for the mistakes she makes and she's just not interested in dealing with anyone else. No one can ever get a straight answer from her.

She's so young, she shouldn't have these problems. They're understanding that life is hard when big adjustments happen to someone at such a young age - of course, they always say that - but at a certain point there's only so much leeway they can give.

Amelia Robbinson, mother to the proverbial pre-teen trouble maker, has had far too many visits with teachers and the principal over the last few months. She thought therapy was supposed to help with this.

WHEN I FALL ASLEEP I FEEL YOU WITH ME

Ella, Age Nine
Okay Dad, this isn't funny anymore. Please hurry up. I'm sad about mom, and these guys just don't get it.

She's gone and so are you. But you're not gone gone too, are you?

Are you?

Loveyou...
Ella.

WHERE ARE YOU NOW THAT I NEED YOU

Time passes, and it's a very slow, painful process to grow into understanding. Vague therapy appointments from youth had always given some insight as to how her mind starts to work. Things were relatively surface-driven, and for the most part that's fine. At least she was talking.

And they stopped, eventually. Therapy seemed to plateau her progression and so Amelia Robbinson came to the decision that they would take a break. For a year, Ella spoke to no one. She never could figure out how to talk to her mother.

But things flip on the proverbial dime one day, when out of the blue she is caught sitting on the driveway waiting.

Approached and asked, she's quick to say that she's not waiting for anyone. But no one believes her; she's never been a good liar, and that's not a skill that's grown with her age. She goes back to therapy.

YOU'RE NOT CLOSE ENOUGH, YOU'RE NOT

Ella, Age Thirteen
Dad.

First of all, you had to know I'd figure it out eventually.

You left me here! I'm not even related to these people, and you left me with them!

You're not coming for me. You better not. If you do I'll...

I don't know. I won't love you either way. Maybe that's enough. But it's probably not, considering you left me in the first place.

I bet you don't even have a place for me anymore.

I bet you never looked back.

Ella

LIKE I'M WALKING MY LAST STEPS

One day, Ella takes steps out of her latest therapy session in a terrible mood. She's fifteen now, and with over half her life in therapy, it's time to be treated like she's her own age, not the child who once walked into those sessions.

It's insinuated that her attitude had been worsening. Who wouldn't be upset about that? She's asked to forgo the letter-writing assignment for a few months, but it's a coping mechanism now. It's insisted that she move on. That she resolve to completely let go. That she get comfortable enough to accept the actions in years to come - when she'd get a birth certificate and a name and a chance for information.

But she argued. In her own mind, she absolutely had moved on. There was no reason to berate and bully her into such a conversation. So she left, and she was angry.

Mere moments after she leaves the session, she is screaming from the other side of the door she's just closed. When she's found by her therapist, she's on the floor. Blood splatters are in a spray across the hallways walls. Along the floor. Touching the roof. She's there, on her own, in a pool of her own blood with no obvious markings to show where it all came from. She’s recruited from the hospital within days.

THERE'S NO EXPLANATION OR FOREWARNING

Ella, Age Fifteen
I know I said I wouldn't do this for a while, but I feel like I need to. In therapy, they're always saying to go with your feelings, so...

It didn't take long to get the restraints taken off my wrists, so I can write now. Once the Recruiter came in and explained everything, everyone was a lot more calm. Apparently he got here only two days after it happened. He had to wait a whole day for me to wake up. And he did, like it was totally normal.

Amelia - that's the woman you left me with - she looked at me like I'd tried to hurt myself. She even cried like it was her fault. She cried even more when she realised I had to move to Montana.

Would you be here? If you knew how bad it got? Would you even care? If I ever have a way to get these to you, would you even read them? You learn a lot when you hit the wall.

Ella.

YOU SHOULD GO AND LOVE YOURSELF

It takes a lot for someone to learn from their experiences, especially when they grow so stubborn in their teenage years. Ella is clever enough to use the drastic change to change, in a word, everything. She settles into life at Bellefonte like she's happy for the change. It's a stark cry from how she used to be.

Her Recruiter keeps in touch; he says it's astonishing how bright she shines given how depressed she seemed when they first met. Like the fresher air literally altered her perception. She has a few friends, but she's happy with just that. She seems content.

For the most part, she isn't seen.

Until one day, one of the most popular boys catches her staring. He is beautiful, and he knows it just as much as she does. And he caught her staring. So of course, he saddles up beside her in a crowded hallway between classes. He tries to flirt. She tries to brush it off. Turns out, he's seen her before. He's seen her a few times, but she's hard to catch. Apparently.

On a daring switch, the talk flips by way of her own doing from harmless, irritating flirtation on his part to a deeper conversation. She questions why he is the way he is, and he does the same for her. He gets close enough to kiss her. She gets a nose bleed. She runs away.

It's the first and only time she ever talks to him. at least, it is in her high school life.

PLEASE EXCUSE ME, I'M NOT THINKING CLEAR

Ella, Age Eighteen
So... You did leave me with something.

Everett is your name.

I'm old enough to know now. They practically handed off the original birth certificate like a birthday present. I don't even know how to feel about it. I don't even know if I care anymore. But... I'm old enough to find you.

I'm not going to try to find you.

Everett is your name.

Well, it's ours.

Ella.

PS: It's a boys name, dad. So thanks for that.

I DON'T DO TOO WELL WITH APOLOGIES

Ella doesn't graduate until she's nineteen. With her ability and indifference towards training it, it takes her more time to finally settle down and work it out. Once she graduates, she has no idea what to do with her life, but she knows one thing; going home to St. Paul is a bad idea.

She applies for every job she can find in the hopes that something will land. She would wait tables for her entire life if it meant she could stay in the town where she had masked herself so perfectly. She starts taking college classes in teaching, just to give her something to work towards. She details to her mother that she isn't coming home. Amelia Robbinson is okay with it, and sends what she can.

Ella rifles through the myriad of letters her mother had sent to her; things she had written in her youth to her father that were never read by anyone else. They were kept in her room. For the first time in her life, she finds the means to ask why her mother bothered with her if she was so overtly negative. Why bother? Why not leave? Why not give up? Why not give her back?

She learns, then, that that's love. And she never forgets it.

DETAILS DETAILS; YOU BREATHE IN WHEN I EXHALE

Ella, Age Twenty
Dad.

Amelia is an awesome mom. I wish I gave her more credit.

So... I'm okay. Even without you. I really am done with this assignment.

I mean it.

And I meant what I said. I'm not going to look for you. Not anymore.

Ella.

YOU DON'T HAVE TO MAKE YOUR MIND UP

Ella gets a job as a dorm monitor. She does that job for years. It's mundane work, but she's happy to be involved with the school that changed her life so much. Within that same year, she meets a Recruiter who is somehow the most perfect man she has ever met. He takes an interest in her, they start dating. He is gloriously patient, attentive and sweet. She is well and truly swept off her feet before she can even realise what's happened. For someone so relatively ignored by society for so long, it's a massive surprise to find someone she can relate to. Someone who seems to understand how to deal with her.

It's a year long process, but every commitaphobe takes their time to completely dedicate themselves, and Ella is no exception.

Almost a year later, she runs into James Lawrence in the staff room. He looks as beautiful as he did in high school. She tries to run, he follows her. Idle chatter turns to a deeper conversation. Again. They agree not to avoid each other. Somehow, she even agrees to go out with him. Y'know, as friends.

She goes to Christmas with her boyfriend and New Years with her just friend. She stood in the middle of a crowd in Times Square. She felt their heartbeats, their excitement and her own anxiety in the midst of such a pressing crowd. She watched the ball drop with countless people.

She kissed James Lawrence. At midnight. Then again. After midnight.

Things change on a dime. Her name sounds different from his lips. His hand feels different in hers. Everything he says makes perfect sense. He asks if he's crazy for wanting this. They end up in an elevator in their hotel. The emergency button is pushed. The rest is history.

SHOW ME THAT YOUR LOVE WILL NEVER CHANGE

Ella, Age Twenty-Four
Hey, mom. Sorry it's been so long.

Listen, I don't really know how to say this. I figured a letter was way easier than telling you on the phone. Things like these... I'm pretty useless at actually talking about. No doubt you'll call me the second you read this anyway. At least at that point, I'll have had some time.

We broke up. It was messy. It was my fault.

I'll give you details when you call.

Love,
Ella.

PS: Thank God you never actually met him, right?

THE REPERCUSSIONS OF MISSING YOUR LOVING

Months after her break up, Ella locks herself away. She gives herself time. It's a self-punishment, and she's completely aware of that. James comes by all the time. First once a day, then once a week. Always on Friday afternoons the second he gets a chance. He knocks on the door and tries to talk to her. He has perfect hearing; he can hear that she is right there, despite how she tries to ignore it. Despite how she tries to ignore him, he pushes forward. It's the kind of argument that threatens to stop hearts straight from the woman who feels the way they move like it's second nature.

There's guilt in breaking someone's heart. In ruining someone's life. Why should she be happy when someone else is miserable. Why should the thing that makes them miserable be the thing that makes her so devastatingly happy? It takes convincing, but she agrees to giving him a chance. That her own actions were stupid. They might be bad people, but at least they have each other.

NOTHING CAN CHANGE WHERE WE WILL GO

Ella, Age Twenty-Five
Mom.

I never made it home for my birthday, and I feel so so bad about that. Things got very hectic here very quickly.

It's not easy to explain. I just... It's not the same kind of drama.

Moving into a new job has been really hectic. I feel like I barely have time for anything these days. I’m going to be a trainer! That’s pretty awesome. I’m not totally sure that I’ll be any good at it but James keeps reminding me that “I’ve got this”.

Sorry, I don't want you to worry. I just thought you deserved an explanation.

By the way… So because I messed up last year, and I really messed up with my birthday too, I was thinking of how to fix that.

You should come out here for the holidays!

We'll come see you these holidays!

I'll bring James this year. Even if he isn't willing, I promise.

Love,
Ella.

AND THE SONGBIRDS ARE SINGING

The quiet rhythm of his heart is a thing of wonder, to Ella. James Lawrence is every bit as imperfect as she is, and she absolutely loves him for it. He talks her down from every ledge and lifts her up to every goal. She rests her head against his chest every night to be closer to his heart even though she doesn't need the assistance.

She listens for every irregularity, like waiting for him to simply... Stop existing. She's afraid of the day he dies, because her life is built around him.

Fingertips play with the material of his shirt. He can probably hear it.

He can probably hear the way her own heart races when she's too deep in thought, but he doesn't ask often. When he asks her what's wrong, she always lies, and she's always given away by the erratic nature of her own heart.

She wants him to ask her to marry him, but she doesn't think she'll ever be worth the question.

♦ THE PLAYER ♦

USERNAME: Eddie
AGE GROUP: Twenty-Siz
EXPERIENCE: Ayeeee
WHERE DID YOU FIND US? AYEEEE

[★ MEL]

ACCEPTED! ►
► You know what to do!
BY EDWARD OF GS