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Description
I'd love to hear your opinions below! That and if you'd like any your character(s) to have a friendship, relationship, or family connection, I'm open to any suggestions!
2/22/15 - Rough History

Name - Christina Lovella Wentsworth
Codename - Cockroach
Age - 16
Gender - Female
Height - 5'4"
Weight - 105 lbs.
Status - Undead
Occupation - Freelance Mechanic
Marital Status - Single
Birthplace - Nevada, United States
Fears - Fire makes her panic, claustrophobia, vacuum cleaners and loud things in general.

Personality - Christina is a bipolar individual that has a tendency to be extremely unpredictable. When she's alone she often carries of a conversation with herself and when shes with others she's a real chatter box. She has a tendancy to e a bit clingy or even over affectionate. That along with being aggressive. Its not uncommon for those around her to get poked or prodded with a pen or stick when theres no conversing going on. Aside from that, Christina is devout to her work and can tinker for hours up to days at a time.

History - Christina was born and raised an only child. Her birth was a miracle according to medical means, but a curse to her mother. Her mother was a strict business woman and having a child would take up too much time. Though one too many ended in a one night stand. When she found she was pregnang, she didn't even remember who the father was. Her mother had attempted an abortion, but she wasn't physically stable to undergo the procedure. Alas, Christina was brought into the world on October 25th. The baby was brought home, but was often under the care of the young woman next door, Lacette, who was physically unable to conceive. Christina was a blessing to the woman, she was a sweet child and quite talented at educational events. However she always had to go home at the end of the day. Whenever she didn't have he house properly tidied up down to the last dust particle, Christina would recieve a beating then isolation in the closet under he staircase. Most of the time the mother wasn't even mad at the child, just over stressed from work. This was all pinned on the child. At the age of eleven, Christina suffered from a broken leg due to being shoved down the stairs after a drunken fit from her mother.

It was a hard fought battle, but Lacette had recieved full custody over the now fifteen year old Christina and the mother was jailed. During the four years of lawsuits, the child had stayed in an orphanage, where she picked up on a tinkering hobby. There were a few grubby kids that were amazed by Christina's creations and for the first time... she made friends. Of course they were homeless, unclean friends, but still friends.

Every now and again Christina would meet up with them but as time drew on, she saw them less and less. The sad part was that it wasn't because they got adopted, but because the orphanage was burnt down. This was kept from Christina in order to preserve her happiness.

Recovery was slow, abuse leaves scars. Everytime a hand was raised towards her, Christina would tear up and hide. Soon it reduced to a flinch, but that timidness stayed.

A few months later, Christina was completely adjusted to the new way of life. Her confidence grew and she was quite healthy. Though a few scars remained along her neck and arms. Every day she would put on long sweaters in order to hide the many marks. Since her birth mother was so strict, Christina had a great education, but she fered school. Everyone had their clique, but Christina was on her own. It wasn't that she wasn't likable, she was just the oddball. Though she was happy with her new mother.
One day, Christina woke up in the middle of the night. There was some loud noise emanating from downstairs. Her sockless feet msde contact with the plush carpeted floor and her hand reached for the brass doorknob. Nothing. She eyed the hall to see nothing but the dark set of stairs that dove down into a sea of darkness. She tip-toed down the stairs and saw that the front door was open. That was odd. Lacete made a habit of checking the house two, even three times a night for open doors or windows. With growing concern, she kicked the kitchen door open. There was a mound on the table with something hovering over. "Lacette...." Christina called out, only to draw attention. It was Lacette. She was drenched in a think red subtance that made Christina gag. There was a mutilated body on the kitchen table that was barely recognizable any more... but Christina could tell by the well kept black hair that it was her mother. "Oh Christina... we can be happy. Truly happy." Lacette dropped her knife and approached Christina with an animalistic gaze and an unsettling smile. Christina was appalled and overall horrified. She didn't even remember running outside with the keys in had or starting the car, only to see Lacette chasing after her in the rear view mirror. All she remembered was hitting an electrical pole, then darkness.

It was almost immediate, she was electrocuted by the falling wores hitting her running and smashed car. Her eyes opened slowly, they were dialated and dry. Lacette was smiling at her, staring unblinkingly. Her hands were wrapped around Christina's throat, and that's when her subconscious pulled into overdrive. While choking, madly trying to grab and object to protect herself, Christina pulled out the key from the ignition and rammed it into Lacette's throat. A small trickle of blood slowly trickled out of the new wound, then quickly escalated into a gush of crimson. Lacette spluttered and fell backwards. "I just wanted my baby, Christina..." she muttered and hacked a few times before going limp Christina screched and dropped the keys. It was amazing how much strength the human body can exert when fear takes over. The girl staggered to her feet and started to sob. Tears poured down her cheeks and her shaky hands covered her face.
Then... there was laughter.

Description
I'd love to hear your opinions below! That and if you'd like any your character(s) to have a friendship, relationship, or family connection, I'm open to any suggestions!
2/22/15 - Rough History

Name - Christina Lovella Wentsworth
Codename - Cockroach
Age - 16
Gender - Female
Height - 5'4"
Weight - 105 lbs.
Status - Undead
Occupation - Freelance Mechanic
Marital Status - Single
Birthplace - Nevada, United States
Fears - Fire makes her panic, claustrophobia, vacuum cleaners and loud things in general.

Personality - Christina is a bipolar individual that has a tendency to be extremely unpredictable. When she's alone she often carries of a conversation with herself and when shes with others she's a real chatter box. She has a tendancy to e a bit clingy or even over affectionate. That along with being aggressive. Its not uncommon for those around her to get poked or prodded with a pen or stick when theres no conversing going on. Aside from that, Christina is devout to her work and can tinker for hours up to days at a time.

History - Christina was born and raised an only child. Her birth was a miracle according to medical means, but a curse to her mother. Her mother was a strict business woman and having a child would take up too much time. Though one too many ended in a one night stand. When she found she was pregnang, she didn't even remember who the father was. Her mother had attempted an abortion, but she wasn't physically stable to undergo the procedure. Alas, Christina was brought into the world on October 25th. The baby was brought home, but was often under the care of the young woman next door, Lacette, who was physically unable to conceive. Christina was a blessing to the woman, she was a sweet child and quite talented at educational events. However she always had to go home at the end of the day. Whenever she didn't have he house properly tidied up down to the last dust particle, Christina would recieve a beating then isolation in the closet under he staircase. Most of the time the mother wasn't even mad at the child, just over stressed from work. This was all pinned on the child. At the age of eleven, Christina suffered from a broken leg due to being shoved down the stairs after a drunken fit from her mother.

It was a hard fought battle, but Lacette had recieved full custody over the now fifteen year old Christina and the mother was jailed. During the four years of lawsuits, the child had stayed in an orphanage, where she picked up on a tinkering hobby. There were a few grubby kids that were amazed by Christina's creations and for the first time... she made friends. Of course they were homeless, unclean friends, but still friends.

Every now and again Christina would meet up with them but as time drew on, she saw them less and less. The sad part was that it wasn't because they got adopted, but because the orphanage was burnt down. This was kept from Christina in order to preserve her happiness.

Recovery was slow, abuse leaves scars. Everytime a hand was raised towards her, Christina would tear up and hide. Soon it reduced to a flinch, but that timidness stayed.

A few months later, Christina was completely adjusted to the new way of life. Her confidence grew and she was quite healthy. Though a few scars remained along her neck and arms. Every day she would put on long sweaters in order to hide the many marks. Since her birth mother was so strict, Christina had a great education, but she fered school. Everyone had their clique, but Christina was on her own. It wasn't that she wasn't likable, she was just the oddball. Though she was happy with her new mother.
One day, Christina woke up in the middle of the night. There was some loud noise emanating from downstairs. Her sockless feet msde contact with the plush carpeted floor and her hand reached for the brass doorknob. Nothing. She eyed the hall to see nothing but the dark set of stairs that dove down into a sea of darkness. She tip-toed down the stairs and saw that the front door was open. That was odd. Lacete made a habit of checking the house two, even three times a night for open doors or windows. With growing concern, she kicked the kitchen door open. There was a mound on the table with something hovering over. "Lacette...." Christina called out, only to draw attention. It was Lacette. She was drenched in a think red subtance that made Christina gag. There was a mutilated body on the kitchen table that was barely recognizable any more... but Christina could tell by the well kept black hair that it was her mother. "Oh Christina... we can be happy. Truly happy." Lacette dropped her knife and approached Christina with an animalistic gaze and an unsettling smile. Christina was appalled and overall horrified. She didn't even remember running outside with the keys in had or starting the car, only to see Lacette chasing after her in the rear view mirror. All she remembered was hitting an electrical pole, then darkness.

It was almost immediate, she was electrocuted by the falling wores hitting her running and smashed car. Her eyes opened slowly, they were dialated and dry. Lacette was smiling at her, staring unblinkingly. Her hands were wrapped around Christina's throat, and that's when her subconscious pulled into overdrive. While choking, madly trying to grab and object to protect herself, Christina pulled out the key from the ignition and rammed it into Lacette's throat. A small trickle of blood slowly trickled out of the new wound, then quickly escalated into a gush of crimson. Lacette spluttered and fell backwards. "I just wanted my baby, Christina..." she muttered and hacked a few times before going limp Christina screched and dropped the keys. It was amazing how much strength the human body can exert when fear takes over. The girl staggered to her feet and started to sob. Tears poured down her cheeks and her shaky hands covered her face.
Then... there was laughter.