Dusty Compton

[Dusty Compton]

dustyCOMPTON

optimistic - different - clumsy

Full Name: Dusty Starr Compton
Alias: Dusty
Age: Nineteen
Date of Birth: February 21st, 1991
Ethnicity: Caucasion English
Religion: Atheist
Orientation: Bisexual
Occupation: Student

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Face Claim: Taylor-Compton, Scout

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Power: Immortality. Dusty cannot die. Ever. Pretty lucky, really, since that's a wish that Dusty has always had. And quite ironic, due to a certain message on a mirror she'd recently read..

Immortality does mean that she can't die, but it doesn't mean she's a vampire. Her bones don't magically fix themselves, and she doesn't suddenly have an immunity to every disease. She can still feel pain, she can still get sick. So what happens if she gets a disease that nobody knows the cure to? She'll be sick for all eternity. It sucks, really. Unless, of course, that disease gets so bad that it would kill her. She can die, you see, in a sense. It's more like being made brain dead. When this happens, her body has time to heal itself, and she will come back to life when she's in full health again. It's like being in a coma, but minus the pulse.

She doesn't yet know that she has the power. She just thinks that she was struck by lightning and didn't get a power, end of. She does know about the existence of powers due to certain contacts of hers. The only way that she could find out about her power, would be if she were to die.

Power/Personality Relation: Immortality has never really been something that she's strove for, rather, she's always wanted a full life. She knows that life is short, and has to make it amazing as it's so short. She does fear death, however. Additionally, Dusty is always getting herself into trouble breaking bones and such, so it's sort of as though this power is saving her from herself, as one day she may fall of a building and die. That wouldn't be unlike her, what with the clumsiness. Having seen dead people so frequently she's very familiar with them and not at all creeped out. So if she woke up one day in a coffin, or in a pile of dead bodies, she wouldn't mind.

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Personality: The best way that Dusty could be described would be optimistic. Her optimism is what most of her life is based around. She tries hard to always look on the bright side of things, and to ignore all else. Her motto is "life's what you make it." Of course, this often bring to mind images of Hannah Montana singing "Life's what you make it, so let's make it rock," so she often tends not to say it out loud in case she bursts into song. Which she probably would, much as she hates all things Disney.

A lot of people would describe her as 'weird', but that's just because she can be different. She has a love for dark, twisted things, and horror is her favourite genre of everything. Sometimes she finds herself turning things into something creepy in her mind by mistake, so she spends a lot of time drawing those images. She has a very vivid imagination.

If there was one super power that Dusty could choose, it would be to communicate with the dead. Sadly, she wasn't lucky enough to be gifted with such a thing. With a father whose occupation is a mortician, she finds it hard not to like dead people. She'd love to know how it feels to die without actually dying.

Dusty has a real knack for finding trouble, and she can be really clumsy. While in school, she would get detentions all the time regardless of her good grades. She didn't mind, though. She also didn't mind the countless broken bones that she seemed to acquire every other month. Pain is something that you get used to. Yes, it still hurts, but Dusty has a weird way of looking on the bright side of pain. She just thinks to herself that there are people out there who are in worse pain, and she's lucky. She just focuses on a part of her body that isn't in pain. This is of course very hard, and she can only usually do it with small wounds. Broken bones? I think they hurt everyone, even after having countless bandages. This is something that people have always found weird. That she's always got broken bones and hardly ever complains. At least the pain made her feel alive.

She's very confident, and not afraid to be herself. She knows that she's different, and that people will inevitably make fun of her, but the only way that you can really be a good person if if you are who you want to be, and Dusty is. She's never wanted to be anybody else.

Dusty can easily tell people that she isn't afraid of anything. She's also a very good actress. Everybody is afraid of something, it's just that Dusty isn't scared of the same things that most people are. Like spiders, a lot of girls would scream at the sight of them, but Dusty would pick them up and let them crawl all over her hands. Her greatest fears would be to be the only person left on earth. She also has a fear of small spaces, especially wells. Dusty hates animals, because they're unpredictable. She isn't a huge fan of the unknown, and knowing that she cannot communicate with an animal creeps her out. She envies those with a super power like this.

She gets jealous easily, hence all of the ambitions she has, mainly involving super powers. It was the same before she knew about super powers, she'd always wanted to be the best at art, or the best at maths. It never really happened, though. She's too lazy to work at something for very long, and she's been through more hobbies than she can remember, most lasting no more than a few weeks. The only thing she's stuck at is art.

Likes:

• painting
  
• drawing
  
• theme parks
  
• danger
  
• adventure
  
• horror movies
  
• scaring people / being scared
  
• the dark
  
• sour fruit
  
• red pesto
  
• texting
  
• pranks
  
• pale skin
  
• rock music
  

Fears:

• death
  
• falling down a well
  
• being the only person left
  
• getting trapped in a crowd of people
  
• being chased by a herd of cows
  
• most animals
  
• small spaces
  

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History: Dusty was born into a family that is definitely as weird as her. Her mother did hard drugs and had no job. She would steal things for a living (terrible mother, I know), yet somehow she'd been doing it both things for years and hadn't yet been put into prison. Her father was a mortician. A very good one, at that. She grew up seeing dead bodies all the time, and watching her father carrying coffins around was about as normal as seeing him carrying a briefcase.

She didn't realize that stealing was wrong, or that dead bodies weren't normal. Her parents didn't take care of her well, and didn't teach her any morals, or help her learn to walk and talk. She did all of that by herself, barely batting an eyelid or noticing that something was amiss. Parents always being away was normal. She hadn't met anybody other than her family, so there wasn't anybody to tell her. She did mature very quickly, and was doing things for herself from a young age. She wished that things could have gone differently, but they didn't, and that was what made her the person that she is today.

Starting school, she was shocked. Everyone around her seemed to be playing all the time, and shouting and screaming. She sat quietly in the corner, reading or drawing. She'd learned to do this after watching her parents when they returned home. It really wasn't all that hard to teach herself, since she would occasionally ask her father to read aloud, and she would follow his eyes in the book, learning how each word was said. Her father was kinder, and would do those sorts of things for her, but he wasn't home as often as her mother.

She was an outcast from day one. She did make a few friends along the way. She asked a few round her house to hang out, and they happily did. When they arrived, they saw the coffins, and were shocked. Some scared enough to run out screaming. After the fourth time that had happened, she never invited anyone round again, since apparently they didn't take to it kindly.

She found all of this funny. The way people would avoid her, and gossip about her when she was stood right there. A lot of kids would get upset by this, but she didn't. It was all a joke, and that was just how her life was. She wasn't about to change herself to suit other people, so she might as well enjoy what she's got. Her life would be terrible if she didn't have this attitude, and she didn't want her life to be bad. In fact, she didn't ever want it to end.

Through secondary school, when she now felt that everyone was seriously immature, nothing really changed. She did meet one friend. It was sort of fun having a friend, since she'd never really experienced anything like that, but she wouldn't have scared if she didn't have him. He was weird like her, and most people called him emo. He seemed to get easily upset, and spent most of his time crying. She tried to hard to rub her optimism off on him, but it didn't work, he was too self-loathing. A lot of the time she felt guilty, as though it was her fault he used to cry so often.

One day, she took him back to her house. It had been years since they had been friends, and he had never been to her house, though she'd been to his a lot, so she now felt obliged to invite him over. If he ran out screaming, that would be fine, and it would just mean that he was never a true friend. But he didn't run out, he pretty much ignored the coffins, shrugging them off. They went up to here bedroom, and somehow ended up kissing.

Thus, Dusty had acquired her first boyfriend. They stayed together through all of high school, fighting quite a lot, but always making up. They even stayed together when they both went off to different universities.

Apparently, her boyfriend didn't much like being alone, as he didn't have any friends, like Dusty. They were both so similar, other than the fact that Dusty was always happy and he was always sad. She received a letter in the post, telling her to go over to his house, and that it was urgent. It was in his familiar hand writing, but looked a little scribbled.

In under an hour, she was bursting through his door, calling his name. She found a note on the side after she'd got no response for a long time. Her name was on it, in his hand writing again. She read it, wondering why he'd ask her to come round and leave her a note.. A suicide note. She ran up to the bathroom, knowing that he'd always planned to die in this way. He was hanging from the shower head, a note written in blood on the mirror, saying 'See you in the afterlife.'

Dusty didn't cry. She didn't so much as move to touch his hand. She just put the note down on the sink, went to his bedroom to take a picture of the two of them that was at the side of his bed, and left. She was upset, yes, but she didn't want to get hung up on him. She wanted to be alone.

Dusty ran to a park, leaving her car. She really tried to be optimistic about the situation. It had worked for a long time, but she really did love him. She had done for about seven years, but it only hit her now. And she knew that she could have done something to change this.

She sat on a swing, tears pouring down her face for the first time.. ever. She didn't even cry when she broke bones, she just bit her tongue and kept on going. But now, the tears were streaming down her face, and it was as though all sorrow she had ever had was pouring out of her.

The day had been bright and sunny, but suddenly the sky was turning dark. Rain poured down, hitting her in the face, and she sat on a swing, then leaned back so that the rain could hit her face in hard drops. Thunder rumbled in the background, and the storm got worse and worse.

There was nobody around, just her, alone. She liked the storm, it made her feel as though the sky could feel her pain. The image of her boyfriend kept flashing through her mind over and over again, the way his shirt had been stained with blood. The way his eyes were wide open, and he didn't really look dead. He looked as though he was trapped somewhere between life and dead. Disturbed..

Then, in what seemed like only a second, she was struck by lightning, right in the head. She saw it coming down, and tried desperately to dodge it. She didn't want to die, especially not in the way that her boyfriend had done. Maybe when she was old, she could go meet him in heaven or whatever, not that she believe din that, but he did. But not now.

Strangely enough, she didn't die. Things were fine. She felt really weird, but that was about it. Maybe she'd just imagined it, and the lightning didn't actually hit her.. Somehow, it made her feel more alive, and she got up, and walked back to her car as the storm subsided. Dusty drove off home, forgetting about the events of that day.

The past was the past, and she would not get hung up over it. Death is not the end, it's a new beginning. The next chapter to Dusty's life had begun. Little did she know that there would be many more chapters than she could ever have imagined..

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PLAYER: D U S T Y
ROLEPLAYING EXPERIENCE: Four years approx. Mainly vampire, high school, harry potter and band sites.
FOUND FROM: An ad on Liars & Tailored Troubles Tour.. maybe.

[Evan Summers]

Do you think you could add just a couple of connections under "Power/Personality Relation" between her persona and her power? You can bullet point it or whatever, so it's not too tricky

Other than that i can approve this ;D

[Evan Summers]

i can see the connections now even though they're not explicitly in the right section so i'll just go ahead and approve this :3