No matter what anyone said, there wasn’t a soul alive that would ever be able to convince Melody that the world wasn’t laughing at her. From birth she’d been different; one of a kind. First she was just sickly and when that passed, her parents had believed her possessed by demons. She wish it had been that simple. No one anywhere in the world seemed to know what she was, not that she went around asking people, of course. No, a long and painful life of being hunted had taught her the hard lesson that no matter what, she was a monster. Still, she sought answers. She had to know what she was.

No amount of searching in books, ancient or otherwise, could provide her with any clues. The only text that seemed to have any answers were comics. Yes, comics. Perhaps she was going crazy, but Melody found that the Marvel comics, particularly any that dealt with mutants, hinted at what she might be. Was it possible? Could she really be a mutant? A creature of fiction? As insane as it sounded, Melody felt that she’d hit a wall. There was nothing else she could do on her own and she feared that before she ever determined what she might be that a hunter might actually succeed in catching her.

In her mind she had only one option; she needed help.

It was this thought that eventually brought her to the ritual she was conducting within her apartment. It had taken her more than a year to put together all of the ingredients necessary, but it was well worth the wait. At least, that’s what she told herself. Carefully, Melody prepared everything, and with the aid of her teeth she was able to add the final ingredient; her blood. The concoction she’d put together began bubble and hiss moments later, thick red smoke rolling over the edges of the bowel.

“The fuck?” Confused, she checked the instructions and when no mention of frothing and hissing blood red smoke could be found, panic set in. Had she done something wrong? “Shit!” She reached for the bowel, prepared to dump the contents down the drain, but it shocked her. Gasping in surprise, she snatched her hand back, a hand smoothing over her mane of blue hair as a charge built in the air, making her hair stand on end. Her chest grew tight with fear and she backed away from the temporary alter she’d set up, flinching when a resounding crack split the air. All at once the charge and heaviness in the air vanished, and her bowel of spent ritual ingredients calmed. Blinking, Melody turned one way and then the other, looking for a sign that the ritual had worked.

When she didn’t see anything or anyone to indicate that she’d been successful, her shoulders sagged, a deep frown marring her features. It looked like she was back to square one. “Dammit…”

Currently trying to come up with a written outline for their species