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Every beautiful girl that crossed his line of vision was the woman of Vincent's dreams — if his pals were to be believed. That was a bit of an overreaching statement but Vincent wouldn't deny allegations that he fancied quite a number of women far too quickly and far too deeply with little to no context as to who she was or how well-matched the were. Which was often why they were incredibly ill matched. Whenever Vincent suddenly seemed like his head was floating higher than the clouds, those who knew him best were always quick to ask 'what's her name?' with an ill hidden chuckle. And whenever the inevitable surly crash back down from the clouds took place, they were right there to pat him on the back and supply him with a few beers to toss back, everyone waiting for the next go-around. Vincent's name was far from a name that could be found on the guest list of tonight's party of the year - which honestly made it all the more fun to go to - but connections were a great thing to have in life. **, his right hand man was working the event as a caterer and everyone had agreed that it was just the location to shake Vincent out of his latest infatuation. But this one, this one was the o n e ! Invites weren't in hand but masks were, a mandatory masquerade mask would make it all the more easier for him to go unnoticed among the other partygoers. His family had of course got an invitation but as soon as his father had learned that that loathsome family had rsvp'd, their invite quicky was never seen or discussed again. The Cadei and the Montana - had two families ever bickered as bitterly or as long as theirs had? Hell, the Montana's all sent their offspring to schools as far from the ones the Cadei family sent theirs as money and prestige could afford. Brawls erupted when the males crossed paths and catty words sliced the air when the females were in close enough range, their gossip sometimes proving deadlier and more vicious than the brawls. They all fought a battle that wasn't theirs, all lived in a world where their cloudy prejudiced of character weren't opinions they had formed on their own. What any of them wanted didn't matter. Vincent was by now used to suffering through set up after set up at the hands of his parents, namely his mother sending him off to pick up one friend's daughter or another, he went on the dates and found his own enjoyment afterwards. The girls he liked - a certain type his mother was prone to labeling - were ones he would never be allowed to date. Girls who loved adventure. Mischievous smiles and nails painted bold colors, not demure looks of pretty boredom with nails as bland as their personality. Girls who challenged him over girls who were handpicked for their astounding obedience skills. He wanted a girl, not a recent honors graduate from the local K-9 academy. He wanted things that often led him into heartbreak and trouble, two words nearly synonymous with his name. All he got was lectures about his behavior and an increasingly tighter hold on his reigns by his parents. Luckily for his good time this evening, his parents adored **. Honestly, there was probably very few people in the world who didn't adore of trust **, the male a friend to all and an enemy to only the most deserving. It was easy to smile from behind his friend as he told Vincent's parents about needing his help with a work related thing, easy swear it was far from the star event of the evening, his father already preparing one ten times as grander to rival it after throwing out his invite. The man felt slighted over the city's most elite expecting a man such as himself to mingle with the likes of the Cadei family (that man felt slighted over anything he could find even a sliver of reason for). It was just some small, too small to catch his families attention or fit their particular tastes, event. It kept him out of trouble for the night at least - or that's how the story was spun to his parents. He didn't need their permission to go out but Vincent had long ago learned that even when they were duped with the wrong information, it was just easier on him to have their consent so when they later tried questioning him on his whereabouts he could remind them of their earlier permission and slip away to his room unscathed. And tonight, he mused to himself as he slipped on his mask as the rambunctious group traveled on back roads to the party, would be the same. He'd try and have some fun for his friends' sakes and then slip away home, answer vague questions about his night helping and then be done with the night forever. Nothing too out of the ordinary was planned for or expected to happen, it was just going to be a normal night. That same thought was still in his mind as Vincent found himself turning to steady an ice sculpture he had backed into while ducking away from a bit of dance floor rough housing, his eyes taking in the sight of someone staring through the ice at him. Her face masked, Vincent was at a loss to place who she was and although his heart was supposedly claimed by one quickly fleeting from mind beautiful face, he felt it's pace quicken a bit. He couldn't see her face as a whole but the softness of her lips and the kisses they seemed to promise him was enchanting enough. Slowly moving around the ice a bit, he peeked at her from a side of it, voice low but not low enough to be lost in the loud ambience of the room. "If ice reflected one's face, I would fear you to be Narcissis staring at your unquestionable beauty."

OOC:

INTRODUCTIONS:

Amanda, 24, est, she/her

ACTIVITY:

My days are pretty jam packed but I'll more than likely be popping on from my phone from time to time until I can be more heavily on the dash via my laptop at night.

TRIGGERS:

n/a

EXPERIENCE:

I've been roleplaying on tumblr for about five or six years now and from there have also branched out to Facebook a few times as well as a brief flirtation with Twitter roleplay.

IC:

SKELETON DESIRED:

The Epilogue

FULL NAME:

Isla Blair Ramsey

AGE:

Twenty

GENDER IDENTITY:

female, feminine pronouns

FACE CLAIM:

Chloe Bennet

Janel Parrish

Logan Browning

ALLEGIANCE:

Isla will start off loyal to Anderson and the eptp but over time I can see her views possibly changing. I know she wouldn't be fond of the bracelet watering down her powers and I think eventually she could start questioning her choice(s) and how things are done at the tower. I think after she brings her younger sister into the mix and watches her begin the program and sees (in her opinion) how much the program can change a person to fit them into the mold they want them to be cast from, her eyes will open a bit more and she'll possibly deflect and become more sympathetic with the Liberators and attempt to/succeed in leaving the program. But I also want to note that while that's possible, I do however believe it'll all be up to how things go once/if I'm playing her and see how the muse and situation feels.

BIOGRAPHY:

If there were one singular quote Isla Ramsey chose to believe in, author Neil Gaiman sums up her entire existence (even before she would grow to realize the quote unquote special connection she had with literature) in just eleven simple words; A book is a dream that you hold in your hand. In the first chapters of her life, there wasn’t a time she could recall where books weren’t involved in one prominent memory of her life or another. From learning to read on her own, being told bedtime stories as her parents tucked her in, and even later quietly weaving her own placeholder stories for her sister as they hid under the covers when they weren’t satisfied with where their parents had placed the bookmark that night. For many years she counted a vast number of fictional characters as her very best friends. The worlds she read of made her reality pale in comparison, the binded collections of words that weaved tales of fantastic feats and awe-inspiring adventures made even the most applause worthy real life achievements look weak. When she wasn’t reading her latest literary find, she was busy trying to craft up her own, creating characters and lives to give them. Stories not only made her world go ‘round, they filled every nook, cranny, and crevice of it as well.

Isla wasn’t aware just how connected to books she could become until a few months short of her fifteenth birthday. There had been an argument between her and her sister. Words were yelled, insults hurled, feelings hurt, doors slammed and for every word and obscenity thrown at one another there were equal punishments handed down. For Ana, the younger of the two, there was a plethora of things to ground her from given her buzzing social life but for secluded Isla, there was only one thing that seemed severe enough a punishment for her involvement in this bout of arguing -- no books, no reading for two whole weeks.

There were fourteen agonizing days of no page turning adventures or magical fairy tales ahead of her. In addition to that, and to make to matters worse, her parents also took her notebooks, journals and computer, effectively seeming to cut her off from writing her own stories for the duration of the punishment as well. Silly for some, but to Isla this was the end of the world. Books and stories were what she built her life around and now, what was she left with? Nothing but an ill-silence. Her punishment requiring her to come straight home after school, Isla did all she could to find ways to get her hands on something, anything to read during the school hours from rushing through lunch to spend the rest of the period reading in the library to borrowing books on the short bus ride home. But it wasn't the same and it was far from enough to make the rest of the time bearable. For five days she endured trying to find new ways to spend her confinement to the house, spending as much of her time away from her parents as possible. She dusted the bookcases in her room and the small trinkets left on their shelves to prepare them for the eventual return of her beloved books, moved her furniture around a bit and even emptied all her drawers and reorganized her clothes. On day six, Isla decided to tackle her closet next. Laying on her bed staring at the ceiling started threatening to make her go insane and she had to find something to occupy the dwelling thought of missing books. It was there while rustling in her closet behind a few boxes shoved toward the back she encountered the typewriter her grandmother had gifted her a few year’s back. If the sight of it didn’t seem like enough of a trick on her eyes alone, there was a paper still sitting inside of the the dust collected typewriter just waiting for a use. Dragging it to her bedroom floor, cleaning it off, and making sure it still worked, Isla wedged her desk chair under her door handle and began writing.

The words that hit the page this time described a book that she would have done anything in the world to have in her lap at that moment. A book that would never run out of new worlds for her to get lost in, the stories changing every time you opened it depending on the holder’s mood. An item that she would do anything to have in her possession as she wove it’s tale. The story wasn’t long, a page and a half, but Isla soon learned it wasn’t about the length. It was about the power behind the words. Collecting both pages in her hands, she stayed there on the floor and read aloud her work. It didn’t matter if they were her own freshly mint words, each sentence that passed her lips was a newly discovered treasure. There on her bedroom floor, her back pressed to her bed, Isla would realize her first taste of what she was capable of for as the last line was trailing off, she felt a soft disturbance from the bed as if something had just been dropped onto it. Confused, she turned as she rose up onto her knees and peeked over the edge and for the third time that day she wasn’t sure she could trust her eyes. A book rested on her bed, one that was definitely not there before. Looking at the book's cover title, right there creating an indent in her blanket lay the very book she had just written of. The very thing she had just created.

Despite having wanted it more than anything, Isla was utterly and completely terrified. How in the world did it get there? Afraid to move and flinching even more in fear at the thought of even considering touching it. Had she just...summoned it there? - No, that was impossible and downright unfathomable to even admit. Even with the proof staring her in the face, she couldn’t admit that she had just made something so unreal occur. Luckily for her, it wasn’t in her presence for too long. Apparently she could (supposedly) make it appear but she couldn’t (hypothetically) keep it from disappearing. Watching as it slowly faded, there was nothing left to prove it had ever happened except for the messed up spot it had been laying on her otherwise perfectly made bed. There were two things Isla then knew. One, that hadn’t just happened. And two, she could never tell anyone that it actually had.

Not even as the years passed and she learned more about what she was capable of, did she tell a soul keeping that promise to her younger self. Not even when she first read herself into a story (and figuring out how to get back to her own world a story worth telling all on it’s own) or when she admitted to herself that this was all for real did she tell. Isla had been sure her family and the world would think she was a freak. Even if people like Mr. Amazing, Captain Hurricane, Tigress and the rest of them had proven that people with…’special abilities’ existed and could exist without being shunned and overly ridiculed. Up until the word began spreading about Andrew Anderson’s program while in her second year of college, she debated on that promise to her younger self. Isla was scared. What if she made herself and her powers known and she ended up under the wrong wing? What if there were hands that would force her to use her talents for the worst? In secret she worked on strengthening the powers she knew of and discovering the ones she didn’t. Learning how to keep it as in control as she possibly could was a work in progress but she knew deep down with the opportunities out there, she couldn’t do it on her own forever. Eventually, Metro City and the Extraordinary Persons Training Program seemed to be the great first step that she couldn’t continue putting off taking. Now in the program for about six months now, Isla has begun learning how to keep a better handle on things but still struggles with the knowledge that one day she’ll have to tell the world who and what she is -- a day that threatened to come sooner than she was ready for when her sister revealed a secret to her one night. Apparently, they had more in common than sharing a mother and now Metro City and the eptp better prepare for not one, but two Ramsey's.

PERSONALITY:

Creative / Dreamer / Imaginative / Curiousness -

Even before she discovered her powers, Isla was always the quintessential kid with their head in the clouds. Thriving on exploring all parts of her imagination, she loved letting it drift her attention away from her surroundings. Be it making up stories off the top of her head to tell someone or writing others down to revisit time and time again, she just loves creating all different sorts of tales. Although, sometimes it would do her good to remember that too much curiosity killed the cat.

Reserved -

While she's very open when it comes to sharing what she has written, Isla herself isn't entirely an open book. Maybe it stems from having to hide away a large part of herself for so long but it can take some time to get close enough to her to see past the superficial qualities and learn more about the person on the inside. But she's not necessarily shy and in fact likes making friends, she just doesn't let them in easily.

Intelligent -

A conversation with Isla can highlight how well her insatiable thirst for knowledge has shaped her mind. Even if her imagination loves to run amok, she did her best to be as attentive a student as possible and quite loved school work. Being as well-read as she is has also helped build up her knowledge of the what's, the why's and the how's.

Witty -

If there's one thing Isla doesn't lack it's a large abundance of wit. Quick-thinking, she's almost always able to come up with a clever remark or comeback in a snap. She is a Ravenclaw after all.

STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES:

STRENGTHS:

Loyalty -

If you're looking for a person to have your back, chances are Isla would be that person in a heartbeat if you both believe in and stand for the same things or at the most are close to one another. As a person this makes her a great friend to have in your life and a dependable supporter and confidante at all turns. As a super this could be a great thing to have when dealing with a group or just having her loyal to the general cause.

Integrity -

Isla strongly believes in taking responsibility for one's own actions and (for the most part) being the most genuine version of yourself allowed. It can be a bit hard at times with the way the world is but she's never straight out pretended to portray herself as something she isn't other than trying to maintain the image of normalcy with her family and to her that's an acceptable exception as in her mind it protects both her bond with them and them in general. The less they know could be the better. If something were to go wrong and she had a hand in it's undoing, she would be quick to accept her part and never try and pass the blame or cover up a mishap. This applies nearly the same way to each aspect of herself both as a person and a super.

WEAKNESSES:

Loyalty -

While a strength, her loyalty could also be seen as a weakness since it could be preyed upon as well as forced into question should her views ever change. Loyal to her family above all else, as a super that could be incredibly dangerous knowledge in the wrong hands and as a person it makes her life incredibly difficult with the guilt she feels hiding things from them.

Fear -

Isla can put on a brave face all she wants but the truth of the matter is there's a lot of things she's fearful over. Being ridiculed for being different is a main one, not knowing how her powers are something that can actually do any good are another. As a person she's afraid of telling those she's closet to outside of the program about herself because there could be so many negative reactions and she isn't sure she can handle them. It also makes her doubt herself quite often as a super when she gets to wondering if she'd really be able to make a difference with her powers or stop anything terrible from occuring. Or worse yet, accidentally causing something terrible to occur.

HEADCANONS:

Despite occasional arguments as they grew up, Isla is incredibly close with her younger half-sister Ana and places no one above her. If anything were to ever happen to her Isla would be a complete mess.

Even though she has been in the program for about six months now, it wasn't until Ana revealed her own powers to her that Isla first gave any indication that she herself was a super as well. She still didn't flat out tell Ana (although it wasn't very hard to connect the dots upon their arrival back in Metro City) and the rest of the family still remain in the dark for now. It's hard and a lot of the time she wants to crack and reveal the truth during a visit home or at the very most in a letter but she's too afraid of the risky possibilities to realize the probable fact that they would all love her just the same.

Isla has mixed feelings about the bracelet they all wear to help keep their powers at a manageable level. She understands why they are needed for some, if not most of the supers in the program but at times it feels as if she's too controlled. Even though she has a say in just how simmered down her abilities are, it can occasinally feel like it's hindering her ability to create on a normal level as well which can leave her feeling a bit empty and unsatisfied.

Fluent in Mandarin as a second language, Isla can also read it quite well most of the time but does still have difficulty writing it for herself.

Has a few tattoos but her favorite and most recent is one she got after joining the program and began accepting her abilities more wholeheartedly. It's located on her forearm and is of the Armaic phrase avra kehdabra (I will create as I speak).

Although there's not many times she has read herself into a pre-existing story, her top favorite thing she has ever done with her abilities was when she read herself into a Harry Potter book to get sorted by the Sorting Hat. She's never told anyone of it obviously but it's highly ranked on a mental list of favorite moments of her life.

EXTRAS:

ISFJ -

Quiet, friendly, responsible, and conscientious. Committed and steady in meeting their obligations. Thorough, painstaking, and accurate. Loyal, considerate, notice and remember specifics about people who are important to them, concerned with how others feel. Strive to create an orderly and harmonious environment at work and at home.

This is a graphic used for a previous AU version of Isla where she was an Inhuman.

PARA SAMPLE:

[from a previous roleplay]

Rowling—Isla’s adorable stuffed penguin with a permanent home atop a mountainous pile of binders, notebooks and loose leaf sheets sticking out like oddly placed markers, for anyone keeping track—was the only other being in the room with Isla and stuffed or not, he was the recipient of her muttered ramblings as the sound of clacking keys filled her room, the only other sounds being vicious sounding scratches whenever Isla would hit upon a line in the open notebook to the left of her keyboard that displeased her and effectively earned itself scratched out heavily with the pen kept handily behind her ear. What rewrite was this? The fifth? The twentieth? The hundredth? More? The seventeen year old wouldn’t be able to tell you as she transferred the latest edits, additions and attempts from this week’s notebook into the files that made up her novel. Isla wasn’t sure why but everything she wrote nearly always had to be in hand first and because of that and her refusal to discard old notebooks even if the ideas in them had long since been deemed invalid, her mother had begun to tease her that she’d soon write into the Guinness Book of World Records and see if there was a slot for her. Ignoring that and any other jests or jabs and deeming them things that were a unfortunate and time consuming occurrence in the life of a writer, Isla pressed forth.

It was taking her longer than her second grade self had thought sitting in Mrs. Winter’s class that day but that didn’t mean that she was just going to one day drag the folder into the trash bin on banish it from her hard drive with just a right click, a left click, and an confirmation that yes, she wanted to permanently delete the contents of the bin and she certainly wasn’t about to toss Rowling from his home and onto her bed before chucking the often precariously leaning piles that made up her life’s work out of her third story window into an awaiting dumpster below. She’d completed other works of literature and had a few short stories circulated on crappy online sites and a few little things in crummy journals and the school paper but the grand scale dream and accomplishment of tying in the last bits and pieces of her novel seemed to enjoy dancing just right out of the grasp of the tip of her pen. But she pushed on.

Although pushing on was something that could land her in trouble from time to time or so she’d been noticing lately–missed appointments, thrown off schedules and she wasn’t even going to let her mind linger on the scary thought that she’d bombed her finals due to the fact she’d gotten hit by sudden inspiration nearly every single time she’d gone to study. Which effectively took up her time before she would recall the things she should have been doing when it was far too late to complete any revision or go over any notes. Finals had come, finals had gone–now Isla could only sit around with a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. A fear that she wouldn’t have passed and that there would be no way to make up for her mistake and she’d find herself a second year Senior instead of a college Freshmen come next fall. Until she learned the news, there was only one thing she could do to try and get her mind off of it, get herself out of the environment around her and escape the daunting fear that she’d royally screwed up, and that was write.

Continue pushing herself towards the elusive ending so she could close out her novel and go forth to the next step. A few working titles, concept art, an author page heavily edited, a photo picked out, a synopsis drafted and her cover letters and the like all prepared for the day she could begin shopping her novel around, Isla had every single thing she needed…besides the novel itself. It may be eluding her now and her mother’s voice may have been getting progressively more annoyed as she continuously called out her oldest daughter’s name but Isla could taste the sweet nectar of completion looming somewhere just over the literature horizon just as strongly as she could smell the aroma of tonight’s dinner and hear the annoyed stomping of her mother’s footsteps up the stairs and towards the second floor landing. “Incoming, Rowling.” Isla warned the flightless guardian who kept watch over her as she often worked late into the night hunched over her laptop or poured endlessly through various notebooks seeking for the final piece that would put the jigsaw into place as she saved the file and closed the notebook. Even Mark Twain once had to break for dinner.

ANYTHING ELSE?:

Thank you for all your help as I worked on this, all your answers and tips helped me construct a version of Isla that I'm incredibly proud of and I hope that comes across as you take a look at her. Just as a quick note, since Isla and Ana are half sisters, we put our faceclaim choices that we see fit together well enough in order with each other. My favorite superhero is technically Captain Underpants but for the sake of appearing at least semi normal I'm going to go with the Flash.

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