P8 - Harper Reed

« G e n e r a l   I n f o r m a t i o n - -

Name: Harper Reed
Known Aliases: Songbird
Race: Super
Rank: UCB
Age: 32
Height: 5'4''
Weight: 137 lbs
Blood Type: B+

Distinctive Features
Harper Reed doesn't make for a particularly imposing figure. Her (lack of) height and overall body shape make her appear rather innocuous--a bit matronly, even. Although she once boasted an athletic figure, the musculature since long since given away to softer curves. In fact, "soft" seems to sum up her appearance as a whole. Her facial structure boasts no sharp angles--just an unassuming nose set into a gently-curved face, and cheekbones anything but prominent. Really, the only exception to this rule appears to be her arms, which still maintain a good deal of strength from the daily labor that is bread-making.

Personality
Her usually mild-mannered business facade hides a rather....strong personality, to say the least. She's stubborn as a mule, particularly when it comes to arguing her point of view. Unless given damning evidence to the contrary, she'll stick to her ways until the day hell freezes over. Her loyalty is not hard to gain, although past experiences have tempered her from being overly gullible. Nonetheless, she is easily won over if one plays to her sympathies properly. She is tactful only when it suits her, as is usually the case when she is trying to persuade customers that the daily special is worth their interest and hard-earned money.

She is surprisingly calm under pressure, rarely--if ever--breaking underneath the gravity of a dire situation. If nothing, it seems to bring out the best in her. Harper exhibits strong command of faculties and a level of clearheadedness that would be the envy of most military generals in such instances...but one would be hard-pressed to try and elicit such a trait from her in less pressing circumstances, as she's quite lax otherwise.

Biography
Harper was born to a family of humans living in the wastelands, in a community that later became a war-free zone. Life was better than it could have been, in a relatively tight-knit community that managed to afford protection and law enforcement from a group of mercenaries. She grew up hearing her grandfather reminisce about the past while he home-schooled her--about buildings that towered to the skies, and the many people that populated the cities of the world. He spoke of peace—a rather foreign concept to the young girl. But most of all, he would talk of the bakery that he used to run. Harper listened to it all with fascination, trying to piece together what life must have been like in such a world. All of these stories were peppered in between basic teachings of reading, mathematics and—not surprisingly—bread-making. Harper's parents, while not discouraging the grandfather's storytelling, tended to be rather bitter about it. They had grown in such a world, only to see it destroyed with their very own eyes. They, like many other people in the community, blamed the Supers for their current state. Little Harper grew up being fed on this resentment, seeing it as a simple truth.

Life became a bit easier once the town and its surrounding area grew to become a war-free zone--albeit one exclusively for humans. It was still a relatively isolated place, but nonetheless safer than it had been before now that it had an (small) organized military in addition to the mercenaries that were hired from Ares. At the age of twelve, Harper began undergoing a growth spurt. She complained that her body felt strange sometimes, but her mother assured her that it was a natural process. All the same, Harper had her doubts--particularly at times when her awkwardly thin adolescent limbs would suddenly go stiff and hard. Almost as if they weren't made of flesh and bone anymore. These moments passed quickly enough that she never brought them up with her parents, and she quietly came to the assumption that it was just a natural part of growing up.

She found that she could control it though in passing moments. Just the occasional spurts of stiffness every now and again. It wasn’t long until she started experimenting, mostly with her hands. The girl found that snow didn't have to feel cold under her grasp, which was a revelation. Hot objects were more difficult, largely due to the instinctive fear of burning herself. She worked her way up from warm ones, experimenting every now and again to test her body's resistance to the heat. Eventually, when not even a pot of boiling water seemed to affect her fingers anymore, she snuck her fingers under the pot and directly into the small fire underneath. The action was rewarded with pleasantly tickling warmth. She kept it there for several minutes, enjoying the sensation—until her mother walked in and saw her. The older woman screamed, effectively frightening the young girl enough to break her concentration. And suddenly, her fingers were burning in the flames. Crying out, Harper yanked her hand back to find that the skin was peeling and blistering an angry shade of red. Her mother quickly set it under cold water, yelling at Harper all the while. "Normal, well-adjusted children didn't just do stupid things like that. Haven't I taught you now, to be careful with the fire? Of course you were going to get burned, and I hope you've learned your lesson now!"

The burn stung for weeks--a painful reminder of that day. It woke Harper to the realization that normal people weren't supposed to be able to do things like that. But if it wasn't normal, what did that make her? She didn't know the answer. Or rather, she didn't want to hear it. And so she continued keeping her abilities to herself, experimenting with them only when she was sure that nobody was watching, lest they mistake it for an attempt at self-harm. It took years for her to come to terms with the fact that she was a Super, and the revelation was accompanied by no small amount of shame. Such feelings were only intensified by the constant insults and hate that she found being directed against Supers at every turn--a sentiment she had once shared herself. To be ostracized for the one trait that was beyond her control was a very lonely thing indeed, and Harper found herself yearning to be among those who could understand her.

The opportunity to do just that presented itself in the form of Ares. The mercenary group that patrolled the streets of the town was an offshoot of the company, and curious inquiry revealed that they were looking to hire. What's more, they had other mercenary units composed largely of Supers. Harper all but leapt at the idea to be with people like herself, but found herself being held back by the trepidation of being in a career that exposed herself to violence in such a way. It wasn't what her family would have wanted, and certainly not what she wanted for herself. And so she hung back, and eventually resigned herself to living life as she always had. But that was until news spread that another one of the town's residents had been exposed as a Super while trying to protect his child from drowning in the nearby river. Despite having been a much-loved member of the community up until that point, nobody stepped forward in the man's defense when it was decided that both him and his family were to be expelled from the WF zone. None except for Harper. It didn't do either of them any good--the family was evicted in the end anyway, and suddenly all eyes were trained on the young woman with intense suspicion. Even her parents found it hard to understand her actions, and dinnertime conversations were suddenly peppered with not-so-subtle insinuations that she was secretly a sympathizer of the Supers. Unable to stand it anymore, she sought out the head of the town's mercenary group and requested to be hired as a mercenary before the week was out.

That was eleven years ago, at the age of twenty-one. Harper spent the next several years of her life training and serving as a mercenary far away from her place of birth, and found that she rather liked being among those that were like herself. But the work...decidedly less so. Violence had never been to her taste. After sustaining an injury that broke her leg in three separate places, Harper decided it was time to retire from mercenary work. The breaks had not been set and healed properly, resulting in a perpetual limp on her right side. Even though her powers could stabilize the leg enough to continue working normally, she had concluded that it was time. Eight years was enough.

She was able to gain access to Petrichor thanks to the money she'd saved up, as well as her status as a former resident of another War-Free zone. Once there, Harper put the rest of her savings into securing housing and setting up a modest bakery on the edge of the ghetto, which she continues to run to this day.

« P o w e r s - -

Power Group: Molecular Manipulation

» Molecule Rearrangement
The user posseses the ability to rearrange and compress molecules within their body. Affected areas are noted to have a markedly high density and hardness. They are consequently able to withstand extreme temperatures and pressure for a certain period of time before reverting to their original state. It is a largely defense-oriented ability, although can border on physical if properly employed. Selective and more effective usage requires a greater degree of concentration.

To some extent, this power can activate instinctivly through the body's desire to protect itself. Much in the way that muscles tense and the body flinches in response to an oncoming attack, the molecules will direct and compress themselves in an area that it deems likely to need defending. Of course, it is very much fallible as it does not apply to attacks that catch the user completely unaware, and response time is only as fast as natural instinct will allow for.

» » Biological Armor
The user can compress any part of their body to be able to withstand blows. Near infallible when used to directly counter most physical attacks. However, this protection is limited and cannot extend to the entire body. There is always a weak spot to this defense, and it can usually be found in the joints, as they need to retain a greater degree of flexibility.

This application of molecular shift can also allow for more damaging hits against opponents. When done properly, the sensation is--to put it bluntly--akin to being pounded by a ton of bricks. The true force behind the blow relies on the user's own strength of course, which the ability does not enhance. Therefore, the resulting force can and will vary.

» » Staunched Bloodflow
The secondary defense mechanism, should the first one fail. If injured, the user can manipulate and compress the structure of the molecules in the wound's general area to staunch the flow of blood. In addition to being an immediate response to prevent the loss of too much blood, it also encourages the blood to clot faster over the wound. The body can do this instinctively, although more precise control can be had when the user actively concentrates on aiding the process along. But of course, such a luxury is reserved for times when the pain isn't debilitating to the point of a blackout.


Negative Effects
Large-scale compression can be very draining on stamina, and the ability can be applied to no more than 75% of the body at any given time. Generally, it is utilized more at a range of 20 - 35% of the user's body mass in order to conserve energy. In the latter situation, compressed form can be maintained anywhere from ten to thirty minutes. Prolonged and/or frequent use of this ability will cause strain on the body, often resulting in large bruises forming under the surface of the skin. Popped veins are not an uncommon sight either, and are often accompanied by soreness and muscle cramps.

Because of the high density that compression inevitably causes in the user, it is advised that the user stay away from bodies of water in which they may have the potential to drown. Suffocation in such cases is practically a given, as the body will naturally attempt to protect itself via compression of and around the vital organs and thus substantially add to the density of the body.

« A d d i t i o n a l   I n f o r m a t i o n - -

» The only practical use for her powers these days is pulling hot bread trays out of the oven without the need for oven mitts.
» Contrary to popular belief, her nickname stems from a long-running joke about her abysmal singing voice. Not that it stops her.
» Due to some residual childhood fear, Harper makes it a point to avoid doctors like the plague.
» Consequently, her solution to any medical problem? "Just sleep it off."
» Walks with a slight limp on bad days, when her concentration isn't in top form.
» Likes to think she's in good shape even three years into her retirement from mercenary work.
» In reality, she's not.
» (It's all the bread she bakes. Goes straight to the hips. And tummy. And everywhere else that fat tends to accumulate in the female body.)
» Except for the chest apparently.
» Don't call her chubby or she'll accidentally on purpose sell you four-day-old bread.