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Jacobs, Melody; Threnody
Topic Started: Feb 12 2014, 05:24 AM (827 Views)
Threnody
Unregistered

[align=center]PLAYER INFORMATION[/align]

NAME: Liquid Amnesia
CONTACT: PM or AIM
HOW YOU FOUND US: Returning member.
OTHER CHARACTERS ON THE SITE: None
RULES CODE: Blackbird

CREDIT WHERE IT'S DUE: Comicvine, Wikipedia, and the Marvel Wiki. Otherwise, this bio is almost entirely my own imagination supplemented by this site’s own history and current member profiles as reference.

[align=center]CHARACTER INFORMATION[/align]

[align=center]Posted Image
Anais Mali[/align]

BASIC INFORMATION

CANON OR ORIGINAL: Canon
AFFILIATION: Others

FULL NAME: Melody Jacobs
CODENAME: Threnody
NICKNAMES: N/A

CURRENT AGE: 22
DATE OF BIRTH: October 29th 1991
MARITAL STATUS: Single
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual
BASE OF OPERATIONS: New York, NY
TIME AT INSTITUTE: N/A
REGISTERED WITH SHIELD? No
HOMETOWN: New York, NY
KNOWN RELATIVES:

• Judith Jacobs (Mother, Deceased)

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

HEIGHT: 5’7”
BUILD: Despite her height, Melody’s proportions come off quite statuesque as a result of her willowy limbs. Much like a dancer’s, her musculature is also light but well-defined.
EYES: Brown with a copper tint.
HAIR: A cascade of dark curls that falls well past her shoulders. Melody wears her natural hair loose and free-flowing, often messily so.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: None of noteworthy significance.
CLOTHING STYLE: Melody’s manner of dress could best be described as utilitarian, but with a flamboyant edge. She disdains skirts for their impracticality, opting for jeans or leggings at all times. However, she does appreciate the appeal of a low-cut blouse or a bustier. In regards to color, Melody tends to dress herself in darks, occasionally accented with fall tones. She also possesses an affinity for high-heeled boots, a fondness in stark contrast with her ordinarily practical attire.

UNIFORM: N/A

POWERS

GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Threnody has the mutant ability to manipulate necroplasmic energy by consolidating the ambient psionic residue left by the deceased, repurposing it for a variety of effects.

Necroplasmic Vampirism - Gifted, or cursed, with the power to sense and control deathly energies, Threnody reaps the necroplasmic echoes imprinted upon the earth by those that have passed on and further derives sustenance from them. She is naturally drawn to the necrotic aura of others, almost as if she’s able to catch the scent of death upon the wind. Although all living things begin to release necro-psychic energy as they grow closer to death, sentient creatures tend to produce a much higher output of said energy than your average vermin. Naturally, locales where death occurs at a high rate, such as in or around a hospital or heavily populated cities, are ideal for her ability as they are abundant in necroplasmic residue. Once Threnody has properly absorbed these energies, she’s able to manifest them into being in any number of ways.
  • Necroplasmic Discharge – The simplest feat she can perform with her abilities is to release any acquired necroplasm as destructive force, either as bolts of energy or in a radial blast. This force is concussive in nature, varying in strength according to the amount of power she’s stored, though a full-force blast packs enough potential to obliterate six inches of concrete. At the very least, Threnody is capable of knocking a full grown man off his feet with little expenditure on her part.

    Lifeforce Siphon – Largely passive, this ability allows Threnody to unconsciously absorb all forms of necro-psychic energy within reach of her abilities. This range is roughly a distance of 200 meters in diameter with her at the center. Within that sphere, she’s able to empathically sense the influx of heightened emotions experienced by the soon-to-be-deceased, attuning her to their brimming necrotic aura. If she so chooses, Threnody can also utilize this ability to drain any lingering vitality from a perishing individual, consequentially imposing an immediate death unto them.

    Whilst absorbing the necroplasm of the dead and dying, the soon-to-be-deceased’s final thoughts begin to creep into Threnody’s mind, creating an empathic link between her and the departing wherein she can literally feel their every cell as it dies. For many years, this link inflicted a massive amount of strain upon her psyche, but through the use of psychic blocks, the agonizing effects have been largely circumvented. However, the addictive element of this ability still remains.

    Reanimation / Regeneration – By utilizing the abundance of a deceased being’s necroplasmic energy, Threnody can rechannel that energy into their inert corpse, reanimating the deceased’s body as a zombie. The awakened corpse possesses no will of its own, instead responding to Threnody’s bidding alone. Though initially incapable of resurrecting anything larger than a small rodent, circumstantial events have shown Threnody able enough to reanimate at least twenty human bodies with a sufficient amount of available energy. With training, this amount could grow to encompass any and all dead bodies within range of her abilities. Presumably, Threnody may even be capable of surviving her own death via self-resurrection, reflexively reabsorbing any necroplasmic energies released by her body in order to fuel such a feat.

    Her undead horde is also self-repairing to a degree, as any damage suffered by one of her corpses causes it to emit additional necroplasm that Threnody can then absorb and redirect in order to restore the cadaver. However, if one of her zombies is decapitated or has a majority of its grey matter destroyed, the body becomes unusable. As a general rule, the entirety of a corpse’s necrotic energy is enough to power its uninhibited use for a period of five days. The connection between her and the zombies is psionic in nature, allowing her to direct the movements of her horde through mental command.

    At its current level, Threnody’s precise control over her necrotic flock begins to diminish once it’s swelled past five. If exceeded, the degree of mental strain it takes to direct the singular actions of whatever additional zombies she might command risks weakening the psychic blocks in place. She can, however, comfortably reanimate up to ten corpses at a time, though whatever zombies she doesn't actively exert her influence over remain in a docile state. Finally, if Threnody were to feel an instinctual need to sway the actions of her entire horde at once, such as a situation wherein her survival is dependent on doing so, she could only exert such control for no more than five minutes.

    Energy Absorption – As an extension of her ability to siphon necro-psychic energy from her surroundings, Threnody has also displayed the capacity to absorb other forms of psionic force as well. To date, she’s been able to diminish the effects of both telepathic and telekinetic assaults against her by partially assimilating the energy into her necroplasmic reserves. As such, she possesses an uncanny resistance to psychic tampering, which she can then expand to provide her with total immunity against its effects. Theoretically, it may even be possible for her to absorb other forms of natural energy as well, such as heat and electricity, given time and training.
Currently, the true scope of Threnody’s power is unknown to her, having been repressed by a barricade of psychic blocks in order to protect her and those around her. Without these blocks in place, it would be a simple matter for her to absorb enough ambient necrotic energy to keep her sated at all times. However, such a massive intake of necroplasm would amount in her body’s natural reaction to expel any excess energies lest they overwhelm her. This involuntary release would affect large-scale destruction in her immediate vicinity. Thankfully, the psychic blocks allow her a stable level of control for now and prevent her from overextension.

WEAKNESS:

Though her intimate rapport with death might make her powerful, the reaper’s temptation is ever-present and difficult to withstand. Whenever Threnody senses the necro-psychic energies of those around her, she becomes enraptured by what she refers to as the “taste” of death, instigating a hunger within her. As such, the necroplasm that Threnody requires in order to fuel her abilities has also become addictive to her. If she were to go without said energy for at least week, it’s quite possible that she could enter into a fugue state. Obviously, this would be terribly inconvenient for her in addition to being advantageous to any foes privy to the information. At the very least, she becomes emotionally unstable and prone to the physical symptoms of withdrawal.

As for her absorption abilities, whilst she may possess a notable resistance to telepathic assault, it is not inherently active. Threnody must consciously choose to assimilate the psychic energy, thus leaving her vulnerable against any skilled telepath able to catch her unawares. Neither does she enjoy any natural protection against physical assault or energy-based attacks.

PERSONALITY

Melody possesses a survivor’s mentality, an innate compulsion to avoid the fate of those she feeds upon by any means necessary. This outlook comes as a direct result of her early life, having hardened the once bright-eyed youth against the harsh candor of mutant life. Fully capable of protecting herself in whatever situation might arise, Melody’s a fighter. Having played the role of victim in the past, to others and even to her own mutation, her will to ascend beyond such a role seems unyielding. However, a portion of her hard-shaken sentiments have yet to draw level with her resolve, as she still retains a modicum of veiled insecurities.

The term “mutant” rouses a number of contemplations for Melody, first and foremost of which is the realization that she is inherently different. Whether she believes that her enhanced genetics make her admirably unique is a point of contention for the young woman. In truth, much of her life would’ve been different were it not for her mutation. The sparse moments of lucidity amongst the sea of her ambiguous adolescence were just enough for her to comprehend that she’d been cheated out of her youth. Whereas most mutants, in her mind at least, might view their given moniker with pride and a figurative embrace, Melody still carries a bit of her post-manifestation grief with her.

This ire is most apparent when in relation to the addictive nature of her mutation. Fully aware of the connotations that come with deriving pleasure from another’s despair, Melody is very guarded when it comes to this aspect of her powers. Still, she is not apologetic about it. Though she dislikes the partial forfeiture of will when her vampiric urges deepen, she sees it as being no different than conventional hunger. However, the average person might view her feeding habits and the ensuing rapture she experiences as disconcerting. Melody is quick to excuse herself when faced with such ignorant assessments.

Stemming from a well-earned fear of disappointment, she may appear aloof at first, but if one is able to find the crack in her hard-bitten exterior, the enclosed facets of her amiable character will make themselves known. Overall, Melody remains a sensitive, albeit distant, soul. Her trust is hard-won and easily lost, often settling into a middle ground for the majority of her acquaintances. Though if she counts you amongst her allies, Melody is a devoted friend and will always attempt to repay a favor in kind. Nonetheless, the number of individuals she considers a part of her circle is minute. For those excluded from that category, she feels no reluctance to use her many wiles to gain an upper hand against them.

HISTORY: PRE-APOCALYPSE

Much of Threnody’s early life is unknown even to her, most of it having been retroactively buried underneath layers of psychogenic amnesia. Upon manifestation of her mutant abilities, her mind splintered and obscured a great deal of her past. Still, she’s able to recall a few memorable patches of her pre-adolescence with vivid clarity. Born in Manhattan, Melody was raised solely by her mother, Judith, the child’s father having left them before she was born. She wasn’t particularly popular amongst her schoolmates, eliciting their sneers by way of her enigmatic tendencies. Nonetheless, she was copiously nurtured and showered with maternal love throughout those early years.

Unfortunately, a Rockwellian life was not to be for the Jacobs duo. Oftentimes, Melody’s thoughts harken back to an altercation between her mother and a man she’d been seeing, the first since Melody’s father fled his responsibilities. Though she can no longer recall his name, she does remember that he’d been quite pleasant up until that point, if a bit withdrawn from her. That shifted, of course, when he happened upon a cache of deceased critters in the shoebox below her bed once it began to emanate a stench. It wasn’t so much the fact that she’d hoarded a dead cat and a pigeon or two that set him off as much as it was the realization that they’d begun moving when Melody started weeping during the confrontation.

In a fluster of pious rage, the man had just raised his hand to the girl when Judith, having heard the screeching, rushed into the room and wedged herself in-between the two. Like a lioness, she shielded her daughter from the swipes and swings of the frantic man, repaying each one in turn with a fury. His verbal bile washed over them, the man claiming Melody must be possessed of something wicked and unworldly. Judith protested, pushing against him with all her strength, but found herself overpowered. In the next moment, there was a sickly crack as Melody’s mother was flung back and her skull struck hard against the doorframe.

Upon arriving a half-hour later on a battering call, the police would find a grisly scene awaiting them inside the hampered apartment. His frenzy finally quelled, Judith’s boyfriend lay lifeless in a pool of crimson, limbs contorted and bent in an unnatural manner resembling modern art. In the master bedroom, they discovered a sleeping Melody cradled in the arms of her deceased mother. When asked about the incident in police custody, Melody could only state that her mother had protected her from the man’s assault, but that she couldn’t call to mind what transpired after Judith was fatally injured.

At ten years old and with no immediate family to speak of, Melody was placed in foster care. Being a rather odd child, she didn’t stay with any one family for a lengthy period of time. Though Melody was bright and well-behaved, she suffered from night terrors as a result of the events surrounding her mother’s death. Oftentimes, her foster parents would complain of odd smells sporadically emanating from her room, citing the girl’s tendency to befriend road kill for their rising suspicions as to what went on behind closed doors. Eventually, the young girl’s inability to acclimate herself in a positive manner would quickly exhaust the patience of her caretakers and she’d be sent to another foster family within a few months.

This pattern continued on for another six years until Melody’s developing X-gene began to take morbid form. Shortly after her sixteenth birthday, the voices came. They didn’t appear all at once, but arose over time – an emergent whisper which steadily grew in strength. At first, she couldn’t quite make out the words. It was as if someone had turned on the television in another room, but any time she tried to follow, the voices had jumped to the next area, always at the tip of her comprehension. It wasn’t a particularly frightening occurrence for Melody, though she fully understood the connotations that lay hand in hand with such a thing. Somehow, she instinctively recognized that the voices weren’t simply the result of a broken mind, but that they belonged to someone.

DURING APOCALYPSE (April 7th through April 12th, 2009)

In time, what was once a meager trickle of voices would distort into a deluge of screams. When War launched his assault on New York, Threnody had been far enough away from the initial attack that she suffered no physical harm. However, the incessant stream of death cries that rang throughout the city, and the ensuing energy they heaped upon her, was too much for Melody to withstand. With her burgeoning powers overloaded by the ever-growing expanse of necroplasm, the young woman’s body cast off the excess energy in a blast that obliterated two levels of her foster family’s humble brownstone.

Having entered a fugue state as a result of the chaotic influx taking place, Melody simply wandered away from the smoke and rubble in a haze, none the worse for wear aside from a spatter of light bruises. Whilst others fled away from the wonder and ruin of War, Melody’s base desire to feed caused her to travel further towards the epicenter of mortalities. Furthermore, as the young woman came across the departed victims of the strike, they began to rise, trailing alongside her all together in a shambling fashion. With a sizable army of the preternaturally strong undead at her command, Melody was able to repel any converted that stood in the way of her instinctual hunger.

POST-APOCALYPSE

With the Horsemen defeated and Apocalypse in their wake, many New Yorkers made an attempt to salvage what they could of their previous lives. Melody, on the other hand, was far from capable of such a thing. Though she’d shed her undead entourage and the streets had been cleared of bodies, Melody could still sense the deep saturation of necroplasm yet present within the city. It gnawed away at her consciousness, filling her to the brim with the echoes of pain and confusion left by the departed at the time of their passing. Hoping to find some respite from the constant noise and voices atop of voices, the young woman retreated beneath the city to the realm of the Morlocks who lived there.

Officially, Melody was declared missing, but a young vagrant with no familial connections might as well have been dead for all the interest it generated. In reality, she’d been taken in by the sewer-dwellers of lower New York. With her mind still in shambles, however, Melody couldn’t do much more than struggle against the burning inflow of necrotic energy surging through her. Whilst unable to give her name, Melody took to a sorrowful humming; a banshee’s keening that earned her the handle of Threnody amongst the Morlocks.

PURIFIERS

In the months leading up to the Purifier attacks, Threnody was largely removed from the goings on of the surface world. As she continued to siphon away the abundance of energy left behind by the throng of deaths up above, the machinations of bigots would come to fruition just as her own abilities did the same. When the Morlocks prepared for the oncoming assault, the newly-christened Threnody was placed in hiding along with the other non-combatants. However, when the battle came to a head and the dead littered the blood-stained grounds, Threnody shadowed the fray. Though her Morlock kin had attempted to stop her, they were hindered by the glowing sheath of necroplasm that had suddenly encircled the young woman.

Bullets fell to the floor about her like a carbon steel rain, their momentum rendered inert by the energy siphon. Slowly, she made her way to the center of an assailing group, the glowing sheath now crackling with power as it absorbed the kinetic force of their shots. With each subsequent barrage, the energy within Threnody swelled until her body could no longer hold back the hoard. With an otherworldly shriek, she let loose a violent blast that incinerated the three Purifiers closest to her, taking a large portion of the tunnel walls with it.

Freed from the influence of the necrotic energy within her, Melody finally experienced her first moment of lucidity in months. Unfortunately, she found herself confused and cut off from the only individuals who’d remember her. In the subterranean dark, with the cacophony of gunshots and wails beyond the collapsed tunnel that lay before her, Melody fled in fear. Scrambling to the surface, she had escaped the bloodied altercation only to face life as a homeless wanderer, living in squalor amongst the alleyways of Manhattan. Bewildered and in the thrall of her own mutant abilities, many just assumed she was just a drug-addicted drifter and paid her little mind.

Eventually, however, Melody came to the attention of the Mutant Hunters. With the help of their telepaths, she was fitted with a series of psychic blocks to immunize her mind from the detrimental effects of her mutation. Though grateful, she refused the X-Men’s invitation to join the Xavier Institute, instead opting to make a life for herself in Mutant Town. She was never one for structured settings anyhow. Ever sharp-witted, she was able to earn her GED and enter a trade school, thus allowing her the opportunity to find work at the local hospital, specifically the terminal ward.

SKRULLS

When the Complacency Wave spread across the world, Melody was one of the masses that found themselves affected. Though she was initially able to stave off the effects of the psychic veil by way of her absorption abilities, the Skrull’s ingenuity proved too great for her to overcome. She gladly welcomed the extra-dimensional masters to the world along with the rest of the afflicted until the combined efforts of the untouched were able to reverse the Wave.

CURRENT HISTORY

After the departure of the Nuwali, life returned to normal for the most part. Still, the realization that, yet again, her mind had not been her own and that she’d even fought against her rescuers left a stain upon Melody’s confidence. However, the influx of injured patients admitted to the hospital after bedlam had been abated gave Melody the luxury of sating herself on their tantalizing agony. It may have been somewhat hypocritical of her to wash away her doubts by slaking her morbid cravings, but the reaper’s enticement was not to be denied. In her mind, she was offering a service to the soon-to-be-deceased, lessening their time of anguish by shaving off a few days from their shortened lifespans.

When the Illuminati began their attacks, the steady string of patients would’ve been enough to keep Melody blissfully full for months, but the severity of the damage done to Mutant Town ensured that she couldn’t just ride this out like some gritting leech. In the wake of Spiral’s madbombs, Melody made the decision that she no longer cared to sit amongst the chaos and drink in the ashes – she would do something. Though she was no hero, the young woman offered her assistance to those that were by way of her contacts in XFI, the former Mutant Hunters that saved her from living out an addict’s life on the streets.

As the world crumbled around them, Threnody and her allies fought hard against the machinations of the Illuminati. Though she didn’t engage in combat as much as the more seasoned mutants, she helped where she could. A life of unfortunate circumstance had made the young woman quite scrappy as a result, and the flourishing level of control over her powers allowed her to aid the others whilst ensuring that every death up until now didn’t go entirely to waste. With the energy lent to her by the departed, Threnody fought tooth and nail to secure the future of New York and, by extension, the world.

With Doom lying defeated in another realm and the threat of the Phoenix-empowered Illuminati circumvented, Threnody returned to her life in Mutant Town. Though she’s helped to pick up the pieces around town, she hasn’t entirely embraced the concept of things reverting to normalcy. Despite all the mayhem and loss, Threnody had developed an itch for the daring life. A passive life feeding on the waning essence of others was no longer sufficient. After all, was there a better way to get one’s fill of death than by associating with the X-Men?

SAMPLE RP POST:

After a year of employment among the hospital staff, the ambient sounds of the infirmary had taken on a somewhat comforting resonance. Indeed, the buzz of the fluorescents and the constant hum of the various machines worked in concert to provide Melody with a cathartic sonata. None were so great, however, as the wailing of a patient in torment. It wasn’t sadism on her part, but the sense that their cries usually meant one thing – sustenance. Moreover, it seemed as though she would get her fill tonight.

There was a large commotion in the lower floors and the constant warbling of walkie-talkies filtering the information from below revealed that a recent pile-up in Red Hook would result in the wards teeming soon enough. For now though, the main course would wait. Melody had plans for a light snack. Slowly, she sauntered up to the nurse’s desk, canting her head in wordless acknowledgment of the hefty woman in periwinkle scrubs overlooking a stack of papers behind the counter.

“Hey, Madge,” she finally spoke. “Did they move Mr. Holden to the terminal ward this morning?”

“Yeah, Mel,” the woman replied in an absent tone, “Results of his tests came back and it’s moved too far up his pancreas. Family’s just waiting for a spot to open up in hospice. Shame, that.”

“Hmmm, well that’ll be a drain on all o’ them. I heard the son’d sold his car in order to pay for the chemo. Bit of a waste, really.”

“Maybe, but I can’t blame ‘em. He’s a sweet old man.”

“You only say that because he said you reminded him of Garbo,” Melody said with a somber chuckle. “Still, all that pain he’s gonna be in and his insurance won’t cover much more.”

There was a moment of silence as Madge turned to shuffle through the filing cabinets before Melody started again.

“He’s in room two hundred and three, right? I’m gonna check in on him… See how he’s adjusting.”

“Be my guest, but he’s been out of it most of the day,” the nurse replied, returning to her files as Melody left down the hall.

When she finally arrived at Mr. Holden’s room, the interior was laden in shadow and the blinds shut tight. It wasn’t particularly spacious, but at least the man had the luxury of solitude as its single occupant. As Melody approached the sleeping patient, the subconscious thoughts of his drifting mind entered her own, all the regrets he harbored below the surface of his bearings laid out before her mind’s eye. How could he bare to torture his family anymore with his sickness? How could he force them to watch as he deteriorated before their eyes whilst their bank accounts did the same?

This cancer was not only robbing him of his life, but the financial security of his children as well. She would be his mercy, Melody thought. She kept silent, moving toward Mr. Holden with measured steps. As the young woman stood over his bedside, the scent of necroplasm emanating from his inescapable sentence enthralled her with such verve that she very nearly let out a moan of ecstasy. Gently, she placed her lips upon his forehead and a slight tingle passed through her body as she relieved Mr. Holden of his would-be agony. In the morning, the final wisp of life Melody left behind would dissipate and the nurses would find him having passed in his sleep – a tranquil, well-deserved rest.
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Mystique
Unregistered

I am fine with most of this, but I'd like some limits placed on the reanimation aspect, some sort of time limit/size cap/per day or something. A ceiling on that would be nice.
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Threnody
Unregistered

Added a supplementary paragraph to the powers section detailing the limits of her control. Hope this clarifies such limitations to a satisfactory degree. :)

Quote:
 
At its current level, Threnody’s precise control over her necrotic flock begins to diminish once it’s swelled past five. If exceeded, the degree of mental strain it takes to direct the singular actions of whatever additional zombies she might command risks weakening the psychic blocks in place. She can, however, comfortably reanimate up to ten corpses at a time, though whatever zombies she doesn't actively exert her influence over remain in a docile state. Finally, if Threnody were to feel an instinctual need to sway the actions of her entire horde at once, such as a situation wherein her survival is dependent on doing so, she could only exert such control for no more than five minutes.

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Mystique
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Good on this; don't leave again.

[S T A M P]

Another member of board staff may have questions/edits that I do not.
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Rho
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Density Manipulation, Flight
Welcome back to XMR

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