Jennifer O'Donovan

[jenny]

Finished? Yes?



O N _ Y O U

Name/Alias: Kitty!
Gender: F
Experience: Too much
Location: London

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C H A R A C T E R _ P R O F I L E

b a s i c s

Full Name: Jennifer Wren O’Donovan
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Date of Birth: July 7th, 1989
Tainted? Yes
Ability: Presentiment – The ability to predict future events, which is perceived as emotion or feeling.
Jenny has had her ability for roughly eighteen months now, and over that time she hasn’t managed to gain much control over it at all. Her predictions are far from specific, like she can tell you that something really exciting is going to happen, but she can’t tell you what it is. Nor can she control when her ability will work. She never tries for it to happen, it just does of its own accord (though she has never sat down and focused on it either).
Beliefs: There is a place for everyone and everything in this world. Whether that place is at the higher end of the social ladder, king of the jungle, top of the world, or the nerdy kid, the victim, the prey, the slacky, everything is balanced and in the end it will be how it’s meant to be, for better or worse.



a p p e a r a n c e

Eyes: Jenny’s eyes are one of the few things that don’t match her brother’s. They’re rich, honeyed brown and largely expressional. She finds them boring, mediocre and simply bland, especially when compared to Erik’s. They’re framed with thick, dark eyelashes that make her wide eyes seem even larger than they are. The only good thing going for them, as far as she’s concerned, is that they hide well behind her dark fringe.
Hair: Her hair is rarely cut when she thinks she can get away with it. Right now she’s managed to grow it almost to her waist. Its thick and dark brown in colour, and contrasts starkly with her show white skin. Neither straight nor curly, her tresses never seem able to decide which it is. It hangs heavily and straight when it’s wet and when its dry… you get the idea. She tends to shy away from styling it, the most she’s do is tying it back into a messy tail, and that’s only when she’s sure she can do without it’s defensive curtain around her face.
Height: 5’7”… and a half. Her baby brother is barely taller than her, and she wishes he wasn’t.
Weight: 10stone average.
Distinguishing Features: Not that she’d ever admit it, but she has dimples when she smiles, as if the act doesn’t happen often enough. Aside from that, the only thing that could make her stand out in the south of France would be her pale skin. Typically Irish and devoid of colour to prove it, Jenny’s skin is several shades lighter than her brother’s. It doesn’t help that she spends most of her time indoors, or that for the last 18 years she was living in some of the dullest parts of the British Isles.
Other: Jenny blends in. She stays away from bright colours and bold patterns when it comes to clothes, and she doesn’t wear heals that would make her taller than she already is. She’s usually in jeans, dressed up with smart tops or down with ratty t-shirts as she sees fit. She owns very little jewellery and stays away from obvious make up; lip gloss, eyeliner and maybe mascara to enhance her already thick eyelashes. On a weekday she can be seen in her school uniform; the prison clothes for the boarding school that she rather willingly agreed to go to. Her parents fund her as much as they do her brother, but the most expensive thing she probably owns is the bag that carries her books, and the only reason she accepted that is because she was less likely to draw attention to herself with label somewhere in her possession. Peer pressure was a wondrous thing.



p e r s o n a l i t y

Likes:
True friends.
Solitude.
Literature.
School.
Success.
Swimming.
Movies.
Her brother.
Dislikes:
Peer pressure.
Her peers, mostly.
Failing.
Parties.
Large numbers of people.
Sports.
Being wrongfully accused.
Practical jokes on her expense.
Being forced to do things she doesn’t want to.
Feeling uncomfortable.
Loud music.
Her brother.
The Good Points:
Jenny is somewhat reserved.
Intelligent and proud of it.
She’s a model student.
A fiercely loyal friend.
She thinks about everything before she says it,
The Bad Points:
Timid and shy.
Sometimes too quiet.
A bit of a loner, most people find her careful nature off-putting.
She over-thinks things, rarely acting on impulse.
She’s a messy kind of person, never folding her clothes or closing doors behind her.
Habits:
People watching.
She’s a very messy person and can never keep her room tidy, even if she’s sharing with other people.
Correcting people.
Hiding her eyes behind her fringe.
Never cutting her hair unless she’s forced to.
Possessions/Obsessions/Other:
Jenny is, somewhat sadly, obsessed with her school work. She has perfect grades because of it, but not much of a social life.
She has a blanket, dark turquoise in colour, that was on her bed in Ireland before she went to boarding school. She took it with her and it’s never left her possession since. Its her truest reminder of home.



o r i g i n s

Place of Birth: Carlow, Ireland
Family:
Thomas O’Donovan – Father
Mary O’Donovan – Mother
Erik O’Donovan – Younger Brother
History:
Jenny was the quiet one, the shy one. She was two years old when her brother was born, and from that moment she was in shadow. At least, that’s how it felt, because Jenny O’Donovan couldn’t remember, even now, a time when her brother didn’t outshine her. Growing up was entertaining as an observer. She watched Erik get into trouble, break things, ruin things, and she never put a toe out of place to draw the focus of her parents scolding in her direction. But that had its price, and while she didn’t get into trouble, she rarely did anything right either. She was simply ‘average’.

She had always been clever though; that was her one triumph over her brother’s skills in sports and making friends and making people smile. She had her brains. And her logic told her that was all she needed.

She was seven years old when Erik first started attending the same school as her, and she hated it from day one. Now, she loved her brother dearly, and at home he was the best companion she could have wished for, but in school, when the world opened up to the young O’Donovan’s, she would claim her brother changed. He made friends everywhere he went, while she barely had two friends good enough to hold conversation with. She didn’t make friends easily, and while it stung she was happy that her little brother wasn’t the same. She was glad that he got all the attention that she avoided.

Her best friend growing up was a girl called Malory Doyle. She was her best friend, and to be honest, the only friend that stayed regular over the years. The girls did everything together, and Jenny was happy, right up until Malory moved away with her family when Jenny was 14. That seemed to be when the hardships of Jennifer’s teenage years really started. Erik was 12. He too started to show signs of puberty raising its ugly head, but while Erik started to act out and cause trouble for himself, Jenny seemed to learn from her younger brother’s example, and became even more of a recluse.

The summer that she turned 16 was the summer she decided, finally, to do something for herself, to speak out and get her own way. Sort of. She had been trying to think of ways to change herself, to drag herself out of the social rut her solitude had left her in. even when Malory was around she had been an outcast and now she didn’t like it. but she knew she couldn’t fix it easily by ding what she was doing, every day, in the same school as Erik. Around him her light never shone as brightly as it could. So she asked her parents if she could go to boarding school. Not just in a different county, but as far away as she thought her homesickness would allow her to survive. That September she was enrolled in an all-girl boarding school in the north east of England.

This proved to be the best idea she ever had, and her worst mistake.

A couple of months after she settled down there, making a few friends that understood her and that she trusted, she heard news that her family was moving. Apparently they had enough of being where they were too, and packed up her stuff for her, and moved them all to France. France? She had no idea why, and when she asked anyone at home she got half-answers. She was told she could move with them and set up again down there, but she decided against it. She had a life that she was proud of, friends that she loved, and perfect grades in the school where she was, and she didn’t want to throw that away just months after arriving there. So while she had nothing to do with the move, her entire family moved to a different country.

It meant that she barely visited, even for the holidays, the six weeks at summer being the only time she spent away from her friends and her slightly upper class English life. She didn’t care much for the French city of Marseille, and even less for the tiny village the family moved to a year later…

It was in that first year though that Jenny’s life changed forever. She was in class when it happened, Biology or so she believed, when a searing pain shot down her arm and clouded her mind. She could hardly see with the blistering pain that came out of nowhere, but it vanished as soon as it had come. When she could see clearly again she realised that she had fallen off her stool… but she didn’t care. She couldn’t. All she could do was wrap her now perfectly healthy arms around her ribcage and hug herself tightly. Her eyes were burning and she felt like her world was ending. It made no sense, se realised, and as soon as the thought floated through her mind, she was fine again.

It scared her. She spent the rest of the afternoon in the nurses office, and when she was released she headed straight for her dorm room and phoned her mother, hundreds of miles away in Marseille. She told her everything, and she was grateful that her mother seemed a lot calmer (though just as confused) as she was. She was told not to worry, and that if it happened again they’d think of something.

The next day her phone rang, her father’s number flashing up on the digital screen of her mobile phone. Erik had been hurt. His arm shattered, surgery needed, and his sporting life destroyed because of it. Jenny didn’t know which made her heart ache more; the horrific news that her brother was hurt, or the realisation that she already knew. At least, that’s was the only explanation for it. Silently she blamed some stellar connection she had with her blood brother, some psychic bond that told her that he was going to be hurt, and she refused to consider how that was possible when she felt his pain before it had even happened to him.

She was happy, if somewhat troubled by that answer, but she took it for the most logical reasoning. Right up until shortly after the beginning of her second year at her boarding school, months after her 17th birthday, when she had to miss her morning classes because she couldn’t stop crying. Her deep, empty sorrow wracked her body so violently that she threw up, but she refused to go to see the nurse. It passed in little over fifteen minutes, and as soon as I did she phoned Erik and told him to be very, very careful. That she had a terribly bad feeling about the rest of the day and she was afraid. She didn’t tell him why; that would come later.

A week after that incident she received a letter in the mail, telling her that Malory, her childhood friend and regular email-pal had had an accident, and she passed away. Again she was terrified, not only because of her friend’s death but because of the huge sense of foreboding she had had. She phoned home to tell them the news, and Erik was the one to answer the phone. Naturally he matched the two strange conversations they had had, and tried to convince her she was psychic, or just plain weird. She didn’t trust his words, but life after that wasn’t exactly easy. She began to miss her family, even Erik, and she worried about them constantly.

The following summer she moved back with her parents, now living in San just outside Marseille. She enrolled in another boarding school in the city, this one co-ed, for her final year of education. She comes home at weekends but spends her weeknights on campus.




m i s c

RP Sample:

Prologue

In the few days leading up to Valentine’s Madeline was, shamefully, looking forward to the fete in the village square. On the morning though she could think of a thousand other things shed rather be doing… like shaving her head or holding her finger over an open flame. She hated Valentines day as much as the next single person did but for some reason she had forgotten about it until the morning of the day. Frick it anyway.

She couldn’t say ‘no’ and by half past ten in the morning she was already setting up a booth per her sister’s orders. Maddie was far from an artist and originally Rose (said sister) had been meaning to ask Blaize, her son, to help out. Blaize had refused point blank to have anything to do with it all, and so it was down to Maddie and her abundance of spare time to help out however she could. That meant that she was spending the day painting faces of super happy shiny people. She new she was going to go nuts by the end of it.

As the day wore on and the queue of people all but vanished, Madeline’s arms were sore an her head was starting to swim. She hadn’t eaten much at all and her throat was as dry as a pharaoh’s sock. She had a drink from earlier that day that had been sitting on one of the shelves for about two hours now, and the whole time she felt it was teasing her. Now that she had painted the last face that she could for the time being, she practically snatched the plastic cup from the shelf and took a mouthful. At first she thought it tasted slightly off, but she blamed the fact that it had been sitting ou for so long and that most of the fizz was flat by now. So she drank it down, thankful that despite its taste it was still wet and cold and hit just the right spot to quench her thirst, and went to sit down again.

But as she turned it felt like the world was turning against her and se felt dizzy. She frowned, taking a deep breath, trying to clear whatever it was that made her so wobbly. When it didn’t work and she had been standing still (or as still as she could) for several minutes, the other girl that was working on the booth with her turned around and asked if she was ok. Meddie just nodded and mumbled, “bathroom,” before ducking out of the booth and heading towards the edge of the square where the toilets were. She really didn’t feel good, and as she walked through the empty ‘back-stage’ parts of the fete she had to hold onto a nearby telephone pole to stop herself from falling.

The world was spinning around her. She leaned heavily against the pole and let her eyes close as she breathed deeply. But it wasn’t helping, and before she knew it a cold darkness seemed to flood her senses. She was falling.

And then, nothing.


Something cold and hard was pressing against Madeline’s temple. That was the first thing she noticed as the ringing started to leave her ears and feeling began to return to her body. Consciousness was returning, slowly. She could feel her arms and legs but she couldn’t move them, and it was several moments before she realised that they were tied extremely tightly, her hands behind her back. She was on her side, on the ground, and the cold, hard surface against her head was the ground itself. She frowned, and in doing so realised two things at once; there was something covering her eyes, pressing her eyelids shut, and a sharp pain pierced through her head from her temple. She couldn’t tell if it was bleeding or not, but she guessed she must have hit her head when she fell. She could hear footsteps around her and she knew she wasn’t alone. Did she dare to move though?

As the wooziness began to lift she started to think more clearly. Where was she? What was going on? Why on earth was she tied up? How long she was out for she had no idea, but she knew it wasn’t an accident. And she was scared. Why her? Then she could hear voices; sharp and angry and the words they spoke led her to believe that they were in the same situation she was. Two voices, both men, both extremely pissed off, and both very close by her on the ground.

“Sshh,” she hissed, wishing at once for more courage and wishing she hadn’t said anything at all. Now whoever was there knew she was awake too, and she really didn’t think that would be a good thing. Awkwardly, she rolled onto her back, knowing that pinning her arms behind her wasn’t as painful as having her throbbing head pressed against the cold floor.

“Right now… screaming and yelling isn’t going to help anyone… so shut the hell up.”

She wasn’t on the side of whoever was doing this to them, and she hoped that the undiluted fear in her voice was enough to tell that, but she wasn’t going to ask for worse than they were already getting. She wasn’t stupid. Frightened, bewildered, vulnerable, definitely, but not stupid.

Character Model: Mary Elizabeth Winstead

[Nona Constantine]

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Welcome to _TC. Since you have read the rules and the background story, your next stop should be The Model Claim to make sure no one else can use your model, Relationship Plots to build yourself a reputation, and then there’s just one thing left to do…

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