Characters Introduction Stories:

Magics a odd thing, isn’t it? The way it controls, powers, weakens, and defies. Funnily enough, it tends to be out of control, hard to explain, and slightly a bit fun. I can’t emphasize the ‘out of control’ part enough. Because it is, out of control, but so is its user. I’m about 98.7% sure that if I were normal (Did I mention I’m not?) I would be still in a PUBLIC school, and probably not at a boarding school for ‘Troubled’, as they put it, Kids. But that could be just me. Am I a good student? Yes. Am in totally in control of my magic? No. So on the turn out scale, that means I’m a ‘Troubled’ Kid. Unlikely for me, I am a reckless kind of person, which makes me even more vulnerable to the magic inside of me that just wants to explode. I think I have set a record for setting the most houses/schools on fire. About 31, I think? Could be. Of course, I’m excluding all the household objects I’ve set on fire. If counted, it turns to an uglily large number. Anyway, I haven’t properly introduced myself. I’m Luc Abshire, at your service. Well...I’d rather not be, so ignore that last part. A ponytail of blond hair, 2 electrical blue eyes, and always wearing jeans, pretty much sums me up. I have no siblings, my parents are just weird (I mean who makes toilets for a living?! Well I suppose someone has to…), and I have no other family contact. I’m lone wolf in the hell of the world we live in.

I really should be telling you my past, buuuuuuuut I’m sure it can wait. Or maybe not. Fine, but you had better listen.

I was even born weird. Some say I just appeared in the burning building, others say that I was left there when evacuating. Either way, I was a small tiny baby in a burning building, which seems like a 1 to 1000 chance that I would survive. Ha! Chances. It was more like a 10000000000000000 to 1 chance if anything. You see, I’m immune to fire. Always have been, and unless I suddenly turn normal after 13 fricking years, then I always will be. So, immune to fire, the first part of my odd life, and let me tell you it doesn’t get any better. 4 years later, I turn 4 of course no one knows that but, you know, whatever. I’m starting daycare, first day of daycare, I blow up the sand table. I had gotten really angry at this kid named Dylan Haden, so boom,I get revenge (he was playing in the sand table at the time). Well it doesn’t end there. 3 1/8 years later, I’m 7, and it had been 1 year since I started daycare. Everything was normal for the past years since the ‘sand table’ incident (except for the occasional kitchen fires & such). Halfway through my second year of daycare, I start the building on fire. One kid swore he say me putting the building in flames, but luckily no one believed him (I mean who’s gonna believe a 7 year old with  huge imagination?). So, you know, that happened. WAY too many things like that happened throughout my past, I mean WAY too many. I just need you to get the gist of it all. Well, the final ‘incident’ before my departure to the boarding school was a big one. As the always say “Leave with a bang”, and that is exactly what I did. I blew up not only the school, but also I kinda killed about everyone it. I can't control myself. It's beyond what I am capable of.

So my past isn't pretty, but what do you expect? Magic to be a present all tied with a ribbon? No. It's not. More like a curse if you ask me. Did I ask to have the ability to explode things? To kill? No. I will never understand anything about my powers, but I do understand that I MUST MUST MUST learn to contain them, or my life is just going to be one disaster after another.

My story ain't lovely. If you can't handle death, then I suggest you leave. Other than that?

Welcome to my nightmare.

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According to eye witnesses, I came to my parents as a new born, falling directly from the sky.

It wasn't until age 5 that I realized I could fly. Great for about 2
weeks until I accidentally let my parents see. After that, well, I can't
say I love my parents anymore.I'm a freak child according to my
parents. They didn't want anyone to know about me. So, their solution?
Murdering me.

Sounds a lot more horrifying than it was.

I
knew they were going to do something about me, so I flew that night, and
watched from my bedroom window (on the outside, thankfully) my mother
come into my room with a knife, and attempt to kill me by stabbing it
into the (oh so luckily) empty bed.

Things got messy after that.

I flew away. My parents realized I had left. I may have killed them. The whole shebang.

Basically, after that I lived on the streets. And I have been ever since.

I'm 13, I have untidy black hair and brown eyes. About average height. A normal kid, except for being able to fly.

One other thing though,

I will never be normal.

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Liv Carter, that's me. Always has been, and [Looking out for my best interest here] hopefully always will be. I have red hair, green eyes big imagination. I'm actually quite short for a 13 year-old, but still know dares to cross me. Last guy who did, I turned him into a tree. If I were you, I'd do best to remember that.

I'm almost positive I don't have a family.

Then again, I can turn people to trees, so I can't always trust my own judgement. 

I live in a orphanage, typical.

Did I mention that I have a slight obsession to this kid named Darret?

Yeah, well I do. Of course I would never admit it. But I'm kinda afraid to kiss him.

Probably 'cause he thinks I'm a lunatic.

Anyway...

That's about it.

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Water and me are chemically bonded. We are more like a compound than a mixture. Maybe even a pure substance. Well I suppose that a compound is. Well actually, it literally is. Back to the point; I can control water.

Gernander Lowe Dergal. Scientifically, that's not my name.

Technically my name is Emmet Jone Watson, but since I began to live on my own, I took a new name.

My mother said she found me floating in a stream. Imagine that! A newborn floating in a stream! So she took me as her own and cared for me as best as she could.She named me Lowe Bernard Kalt. Kalt was her last name, not my fathers. My father came into the picture years later. He hated me. Especially since ever since age 2, I was a genius. A child prodigy. Or, it could be the fact I could control water, either way he hated me.

His name was Herald Jone Watson, so he decided that after my mothers death (she died from cancer when I was 9 years old, then my "father" had to take me in) to rename me Emmet Jone Watson. He made sure that I got a birth certificate and my name was to be 'Emmet Jone Watson'.

I ran away at age 11, and renamed myself Gernander Lowe Dergal, having Lowe in my name but not entirely taking my first name as it caused me too much pain.

If you didn't notice, I know a lot about science, if you did, that's great for you.

One last thing, I have brown hair and gray eyes. Average height, brainic.