MELANTHA, THADDEA ARYN

FULL NAME Thaddea Aryn Melantha

NICKNAMES N/A

DATE OF BIRTH June, 11

AGE Twenty-Eight

GRADE/YEAR History Professor

ELEMENT Water

SEXUALITY Heterosexual

MARITAL STATUS Married

CELEBRITY CLAIM Olivia Wilde

EYE COLOUR Brown

HAIR COLOUR Brown

HEIGHT & WEIGHT 5ft 6in & 120 pounds

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES Her only distinctive marking is a diagonal scar on her lower back from an incident with her husband. She wears conservative clothing to cover it. It is nearly never visible.

CLOTHING STYLE Thaddea dresses very professionally. She has an obsession with appearances and perfection. She is always dressed as if on her way to a formal meeting. She has a particular like for a long fancy trenchcoat she wears over whatever dress she happens to don. Her clothing is always conservative and appropriate.

POSITIVE TRAITS

• DETERMINED she decides to do something, it's happening
  
• INTELLIGENT trust me, she knows what she's talking about
  
• AUTHORITATIVE there'll be no foolishness in her court
  
• INDEPENDENT she doesn't need the company of others
  
• PROFESSIONAL to the point of obsession, oh wait...
  

NEGATIVE TRAITS

• STUBBORN she's doing it all her way
  
• ALOOF emotionally detached to the extreme
  
• OBSESSIVE she has pretty extreme OCD
  
• SECRETIVE she sees no reason to involve herself with others
  
• HARSH she likes to think of it as "realistic"
  

LIKES

• Order and Neatness
  
• Having Power
  
• Maturity
  
• Slow Lyrical Music
  
• Professionalism
  
• Reading
  
• Organizing Things
  
• Silence
  

DISLIKES

• Disorganization
  
• Insubordination
  
• Disrespect
  
• Challenges to Authority
  
• Failure or Perceived Failure
  
• Dishonest Relationships
  
• Her Husband
  
• Being Asked Personal Questions
  
• Elementals
  
• Unnecessary Violence
  

STRENGTHS

• CONTROL she knows how to keep it, obtain it, and use it
  
• OBSERVANT she picks up on the little things
  
• REALISTIC she likes to rely on logic over emotion
  

WEAKNESSES

• DETACHED emotionally cold
  
• ROBOTIC wards others off
  
• OCD it controls a good part of her life
  

FEARS

• FAILURE
  
• BEING FOUND
  
• IMPERFECTION
  

BEST MEMORY Dancing to "Ships in the Night" with Zachary at their wedding. He twirled her in endless circles.

WORST MEMORY When Zachary shoved her, causing her to fall through their glass coffee table, and giving her the scar that eventually caused her to flee him.

LONG-TERM GOAL To become the human equivalent of perfection.

MOTHER Aryn Levada Demus (67), Florist

FATHER Orestes J. Demus (68), Chef

SIBLINGS
Naia Demus (24), Unemployed
Selwyn Demus (19), Student

OTHER
Zachary Michael Rothschild (31), Husband

HISTORY
Orestes and Aryn Demus met when they were twenty and nineteen years old respectively, a day before their wedding. Both young people were Greek by blood and birth, born into traditionalist families. The families, being of equal social stature and wealth, agreed that an arranged marriage between their children would in fact be quite perfect. Both Aryn and Orestes had been raised expecting that such a thing would come to pass. So when it was announced that a date had been set, though neither young person actually knew the other, both agreed quietly. They met the day before the wedding - Aryn was a timid young woman, Orestes a strapping young man. Though both had doubts about the other, neither voiced a word. They were married.

They lived quite happily, gradually getting to know each other. They began as friends, or more as awkward acqaintances sharing a house. But gradually, they came to care for each other - as couples often do. Aryn, at the age of twenty-five, became pregnant with their first child. Their daughter was born nine months later, a little girl they named Phaedra. Phaedra was a happy doted on little toddler. A few years after her birth, Aryn gave birth to another girl - this one named Naia. After Naia came their son, Selwyn. Though the family was conservative, living by the values their parents before them had set in place, Phaedra had no reason to be unhappy.

Orestes came home one day, dragging his feet. He set his hat and coat on the dining room table, and tearfully informed their family that they would be moving from the country they had always loved. Orestes had been transferred, and without the stable income he provided, life would become much more difficult. With heavy hearts, the little family of five packed their things and boarded a plan bound for Canada. They settled in Canada, Phaedra was now eleven years old. Like her parents before her, Aryn began looking at their neighbors with a critical eye. Were they equal in stature, in wealth? Did they have marriageable sons? Despite the new culture they had immersed themselves in, the Demus' had every intention of arranging marriages for their children.

Phaedra eventually entered high school. It was around this time that she began to develop into her element. Her father, Orestes, had not been an elemental. And he'd been quite surprised to discover that he wife was. But at the point that he'd discovered this fact, he'd long since fallen deeply in love with her and was blind to all surprises. His wife, like Phaedra, had a strange affinity with water. Aryn, seeing that her daughter had inherited her ability, taught her daughter how to control it, nurture it, and how to keep it quiet. After this information came to light, Aryn changed her search slightly. She wanted her daughter to marry someone like her, someone who would understand her for who she was and what she could do.

Phaedra was nineteen, just beginning to pack her things for college, when Aryn found just the right man. He was the son of a coworker of Orestes. And through careful digging and observation, Aryn had become certain that this man was a Fire. While she worried of a naturally volatile nature, his family was so well respected that her qualms were quickly quieted. After much discussion with Oresetes, it was decided. Orestes met with the young man's father, putting forth his proposal.

The other man, a Mr. Rothschild, was very surprised indeed. He was born and raised Canadian, and had had no intention of arranging a marriage. Yet, not wanting to offend Mr. Demos, he proposed that the two young people be given a chance to get to know each other. His son, Zachary, agreed that he would very much like to meet Phaedra. A meeting was set. The two young people, Phaedra and Zachary, developed a fast attraction to each other. Zachary, for his part, was intrigued by this idea of arranged marriages, and asked endless questions. Phaedra was only too happy to answer.

Phaedra went to college, during which time she and Zachary kept up their acquaintance. Years passed, Phaedra earned her degree, and Zachary decided it was time to approach Mr. Demos. Being careful to adhere to the rules of such proceedings, or at least as much as he had gleaned from Phaedra, he proposed to marry Mr. Demos' daughter. Mr. Demos, along with Zachary, went to Mr. Rothschild. The arrangement was made formal, albeit somewhat awkwardly. The two were formally engaged, without the consent or knowledge of Phaedra. However, upon learning this she was quite happy to accept. She'd been expecting something similar to happen for months.

As Phaedra's parents had been before her, at the age of twenty-three, Phaedra and Zachary were wed in a traditional Greek style. They moved into their own little house. Aryn gave herself a pat on the back for having found such a suitable match for her beloved daughter. And with a prideful eye, she now focused her attention on finding a husband for her second daughter. Phaedra and Zachary were left alone to live a life of married adults.

And things began to change. The naturally volatile nature Aryn had speculated about did indeed exist. It was quiet at first. Zachary wanted to know where Phaedra went, what she was doing. He began to expect that she would make him dinner, clean the house. She had expected to be working as a teacher. but Zachary had become obsessed with this idea of arranged marriages, had somewhat expected that he would control his wife, be her superior. This was not what Phaedra had had in mind. She grew quietly discontent. Zachary became more and more controlling, demanding she wear conservative clothing, that she stay in the house, that she have dinner ready at exactly the time he requested.

Tension began to build, higher and higher and higher. One night, it snapped. Phaedra sat her husband down. Calmly, as is the nature of Waters, she attempted to explain that she dislike being treated the way he treated her. That they were equals. This enraged Zachary. When Phaedra stepped towards him, he shoved her back. She stumbled, falling and crashing through their glass coffee table. Glass was embedded in her back. She screamed in agony. She was rushed to the hospital. After surgery and a number of stitches, she was left with a healing scar and a reminder of the horrible mistake both she and her mother had made. She began to fear Zachary, remaining silent to avoid his gaze or anger. Yet she also began to plan. Because she was not the kind of woman to simply remain. This was Canada, not Greece. She was no one's subordinate.

She planned for months. Their three-year wedding anniversary came and passed. She was twenty-six, nearing twenty-seven years old. And Zachary wanted to have a child. She knew if she had his child, she would never escape. She came up with what she saw as her only means of escape. She went on a walk with Zachary, down to a lake. Attempting to act happy and content, she ran towards the water, laughing and inviting him to swim. He refused. She swam out into the deeper water, still laughing and inviting though her heart was hammering in her chest. The time had come. She reached for the water, influencing it to surge up over her head. With a splash she vanished. As she had expected, Zachary panicked. Seeing what he thought was his wife drowning, he ran for help. As quickly as she could, Thaddea discarded her jacket, a shoe, and a glove. She exited the water, and ran.

Later, the police would find the articles of clothing. And after hopelessly attempting to dredge the lake, would pronounce her presumed dead. A funeral would be held, with no body to bury. And Zachary, suspicious controlling Zachary, would stare at that jacket and glove and wonder where the rest of his wife had gotten to. Phaedra ran. She changed her name, dyed her hair. She got as far away as she could, eventually finding employment at the Academy. She has a new name, almost a new face. And every day she fears her old one will come back looking for her.

YOUR NAME Mo

YOUR AGE Seventeen

RP EXPERIENCE A number of years

HOW'D YOU FIND US? I was a member previously

SECRET WORD Correct.

RP SAMPLE

Her heels clacked on the pavement. She wore her favorite trench coat over a casual simple black dress. She wasn’t dressed overly formal, the same as an executive might dress for a board meeting. She had to look presentable, professional – but more so than she did every day. She’d even taken measures to curl her hair so it fell in waves over her shoulder. She was a naturally beautiful woman, but today she had truly outdone herself. But with good reason. She was on her way to a meeting, and an important one at that. One of the Syndicate’s top supporters had requested information, a one on one session. Normally the Syndicate sent whoever was available, but the request had come from people crucial to the Syndicate existence. So they’d given them the highest respect, namely sending one of their Council members.

Thaddea wasn’t particularly looking forward to the meeting. They would ask question after question, she would answer. While it would help her in her goal of continually rising in the Syndicate ranks, it wasn’t particularly stimulating work. Added to that were the fact that these benefactors were human, and had little understanding of the Gifted. They referred to themselves as human rights activists, yet were obviously and distinctly uncomfortable in the presence of Gifted. It was funny, really. They’d gotten past skin color, socio-economic class, language – all sorts of things that set people apart from each other. But abilities, that just couldn’t be overcome. She checked her watch. All she needed to do was round the corner and she’d be standing at the doorstep. They’d agreed to meet quietly at a classy restaurant neighboring Ferellia’s Pizza.

Dull footsteps sounded behind her. On a reflex, Thaddea froze. She turned, her face blank and detached. A man leaned against the wall, almost casual but for the malicious smile on his lips. Alarm bells went off in her head instantly. She tensed. Perhaps he was a mugger, a common street thug. But she knew he wasn’t. He was too casual, too refined. He straightened, pulling at his jacket as he leered at her. He called out, toying with her. “Well well well, my pretty little thing, where are you off to in such a hurry?” She didn’t dignify him with an answer. He tutted his tongue. She was already scanning the alley, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. If she could help it, she’d prefer not to use her Gifts. There was still the off chance he thought she was human. She blinked at him, holding her ground. It wasn’t the first time she’d been attacked. She doubted it would be the last.

“Your continued approach would be unwise. I have little desire to engage in unnecessary violence with you.” He laughed, over-confident. Her tone had been brisk, clipped, perhaps a little faster than usual. As he laughed she froze, more footsteps. She whirled. They were emerging from every direction. She counted four. She scanned them, spotting the tell-tale bulges on their sides or backs. They were armed. Her heart fell. How had she hoped to remain under their radar forever? How had she thought she’d be a ghost? She had no other choice.

Her body collapsed limply on the ground, her eyes rolling back into her head. She barely breathed, didn’t stir. Should someone try to wake her, well it was impossible that she would respond. She lay there, crumpled. And the first man, the one who had taunted to her, suddenly seized. His muscles tensed, every last one of them, then relaxed. He straightened, pulling out the gun strapped to his side. Thaddea nestled herself calmly in the man’s body, flicking away his consciousness like no more than a troublesome fly. She raised the gun, aiming it at the nearest henchman. She spoke, though a man’s voice permeated the street. “I will not hesitate to shoot or subdue each of you.” She would probably have to shoot them, she realized belatedly. How could she let them live with what they’d seen?

She strode forward, breaking into a run. She pulled back her hand, slamming the gun across the first man’s temple. He crumpled with a shocked shriek. The other two were mobilized now, sprinting towards her. She brandished her weapon, biting her lip and pulling the trigger. She was knocked back a few steps by the recoil. One man fell, clutching his shoulder and screaming. The second man had paused, drawn his own weapon. His gaze flicked between the man Thaddea possessed, and her own discarded body. Sweat beaded on his head, fear clear in his eyes. She narrowed her own eyes, lifting the weapon. The man was shaking. She made as if to shoot, he flinched, and she launched herself forward. She beat him over the head, once – twice – thrice. He fell, blood crusting his hair but still very much alive.

Thaddea panted. She couldn’t kill them, not if she didn’t have to. Her eyes hardened. She discarded the weapon, moving to the man she had shot, he was groaning, clutching his leg. She leaned over him. “What do you know?” His voice was heavy, labored words. “Nothing. We were just told you had information.” He clenched his teeth as another wave of pain hit him. Thaddea nodded to herself before drawing back her fist and hitting the man squarely in the face. He went still, unconscious like his team.

It took Thaddea the better part of an hour to haul the unconscious men into a nearby empty street. She propped them up. More likely than not, they’d awake babbling nonsense. She looked down at the three of them, then at her own hands. Well, at the man’s hands. What had she done? And how had she done it with such ease? She shivered, curling over. She needed to find her body. She needed to go home, go somewhere she could feel safe again – somewhere she could forget her own readiness to beat these men unconscious.