Torrence Hamilton - COMPLETEPlayer's Name: Jae E-Mail: jae_the_fiend@yahoo.com Other means of Contact: AIM - BucketFullofHero MSN - jae_the_fiend@hotmail.com (sn: Reus In Silentium)
NOTE: I have permission from Angie to use the power I've chosen for this character under the circumstances that other characters with similiar powers have abandoned their posts... or something like that. Ask her :B
Name: Torrence Elizabeth Hamilton Nickname: Torrie, Tore, Lizzy, Hamface (closest friends only) Code Name: Blockade Affiliation: X-Men (Hellions) Gender: Female Age: Eighteen Years Old [18] Birthday: December 11th Hair: Dark brown Eyes: Dark brown Mother: Olivia Hamilton / Deceased Father: Jeremiah Hamilton / Alive
Physical Description: Despite having a dangerous power, Torrence has never held much of an imposing figure physically. She stands at an almost petite 5'5. Her build is that of a swimmer, slender and lithe, yet still curvaceous. Bosoms are supple, and her stomach is flat, leaving her thin. Torrie's hips are well rounded and somewhat wide, adding most of the added weight to her; it is a waist made for producing children, though she doesn't really plan on having any for quite a long time. Her legs and arms are shapely, and her feet and hands are dainty. Though small, her fingers are long, and Olivia used to tell her that her hands must have been molded by God himself to play piano. Torrence takes great care of her hands; trimmed nails, lotion, anything that will keep them to her own satisfaction (she could really care less what anyone else cares for them).
Her skin is soft, smooth, and the color of raw almonds. Somewhat tanned, but neither pale nor browned to an extent. A few freckles splash her skin here and there, more notably on her shoulders and forearms. A slender throat sits upon narrowly sloping shoulders, and upon that rests her delicately shaped skull. Atop her crown, a curtain of lavish, soft brown curls fall around her face, framing it gently. It is a dark brown, the same shade of dark chocolate. Torrence eyes are large and somewhat exotic in shape; they turn up a tad near the edges. They are the same dark brown of her hair. Torrence's eyes are very expressive, for in them you can see her whole world if she so chose to show it to you. They are nearly on the level of permanent puppy eyes, to tell the truth. Surrounding them are thick forests of dark lashes, long and lush as a girl's was meant to be but rarely is. Her nose is narrow and centered, very delicate, and set above lips that are large and plush. Torrence's cheeks are wide and high, and set high upon her left one, a small but very noticeable and natural beauty mark makes its presence known.
The way Torrence moves is often graceful, though it is a natural grace. She does not even seem to be aware of it, the way she moves, and that is a gift from the etiquette classes that Jeremiah required her to attend for several years when she was younger. It is something that was intergrained into her system very early, and has stuck with her since. Her shoulders and back are almost always straight and pronounced, but never rigid or tight. She is like this even when she sits. Strange but true. Her posture is admirable, to say the least, and she is always slow to walk and quick to sprint. As for her voice, there is nothing spectacular about it. Torrence's voice is soft but deep, and she is well spoken. She sings, but not often and for very few people. Torrence finds nothing special about her singing voice, either, though it is somewhat lovely to the ears. She will never sing opera, and she is content with that.
Torrie's clothing will vary from time to time. Her choice of apparel for one day will drastically change the next. She's not a girl of consistency, and it reflects in her appearance. One day, she will wear a nice skirt and blouse, the next she will be skirting around the school in baggy sweats and a pair of tennis shoes. Jeans one day and short-shorts the next. The choice of what she wears was never really her own to make until her mid-teens due to Jeremiah's impeccable standards, but now she does with it as she will. A lot of girls care greatly for their appearance for the sake of looking nice for everyone else, but for Torrence, she dresses nice to please herself and no one else. Thus, she very rarely ever dresses up unless it's for a formal event or a nice date (very few of those that she gets these days). All the clothes that she owns in her closet range between jeans, blouses, skirts, shorts, hoodies, tennis shoes, heels, boots, summer dresses, etcetera and so one and so forth.
Powers: Torrence's primary power is telekinesis (i.e. the power to use her enhanced brain matter; it provides her the ability to, with her mind, move objects from a distance without needing to touch them physically). Her mental capacity allows Torrie to gather the atoms within or around an object and hold on to them, as though creating a large, invisible hand. As her main ability, Torrence finds that she is able to move objects of up to between two hundred and fifty to just under three hundred pounds without much strain to a height of (her highest so far) at most fifty feet in the air. The object must be within one hundred and two feet of Torrence for her to be able to get a mental hold on them, however. Any farther and her grip slips more often than not. If Torrie pushes herself, she would be able to hold up to all of her standards for at least fifteen to twenty minutes without tiring; beyond that, her mental hold begins to deteriorate and she will lose her grip on the object. Any longer than forty minutes, it will force her into a weakened, vulnerable state. She has been practicing her durance more than expandability lately to allow herself to last longer.
She adopted this power from her biological parents.
A secondary power that Torrie possesses is similar to her telekinesis in the sense that both require her to use her mental capacity to hold atoms of physical objects. Atoms themselves are solid in a sense, and thus Torrence has a small, but promising secondary power that allows her to generate what she likes to call a sort of 'pulse'. Just as Torrence would use her mind to grab an object, she similarly does the same to atoms in the air and pushes them together; she makes them denser, in other words. This allows for a mostly invisible wall of air that is very hard to get through. It's almost like hitting a brick wall. Since her experience with this power isn't very much, however, Torrie has little control over her ability to generate this pulse. What it does promise in the future, though, is the ability to produce a force field, perhaps even an aero-like weapon should her skills with it sharpen enough. However, it is still in the works, and the most Torrence can generate is a thin wall of atoms around her person at a distance of almost a foot.
History: Some people are born poor. Some people are born to parents that cannot support them but love them as they are with every single fiber of their being and they are willing to break their own hearts to see that their baby has a better life than what they can provide them. Torrence happens to be one adoptee that sometimes wonders if she would have been better off staying with the person or persons that had birthed her and left her with the adoption agency. Born on December 11th, her birthday is the only thing about the day of her birth that Torrence knows about. As far as she knows, her biological parents never wanted her, never needed her... or they could never take care of her. She has speculated many times throughout her life why she wasn't able to go home with her real mother, but she has always found comfort in the adoptive mother who loved her as much as she could. It was her adoptive father that made her question the difference in happiness that one decision would have made.
Taken in to be the only child (though adopted) to a couple who had struggled long to discover that they could not bear children together, Torrence was blessed in the sense that she would never starve, she would never be without shelter, clothing, company, or money. Torrence would never have to live on the streets or experience a normal lifestyle. Though, granted, she never would have a normal life anyway. Whoever had given life to Torrence had also given her something else. It was not discovered until later in life, however, so we will continue on with Torrence's early life. She was chosen from hundreds of children in the New York City Family Adoption services at one month old by Jeremiah and Olivia Hamilton. Why? At the moment, Torrence vaguely remembers her mother once telling her that she saw her picture, pointed at it, and said "She's the most gorgeous baby I've ever seen." That's all there was to that.
Jeremiah Hamilton was the manager of the Hamilton Corporation, run by his father and most likely to go to him when Bartholomew passed away. Their financial state could be placed into the social class of lower upper class; Jeremiah and Olivia lived rich, but they aren't on the 50 Richest People In American list quite yet. Torrence's early life with the Hamiltons was easy going, care-free... and for a lack of better words, very boring. By the time Torrie was five years old, she had found amusement in bugging the house servants, tugging along with them when she didn't have to be with her private tutor. Jeremiah disliked these associations she made, but Olivia encouraged it. She wanted her daughter to have friends and people to be around when the parents went out of town. Jeremiah would scold Torrie for it, but Olivia would push her to be more friendly with people that were less fortunate than her.
As Torrence grew older, she grew more and more aware of the distance that Jeremiah set between himself and the daughter that he'd helped choose. Though, with time, Torrie also realized that her adopted father hadn't really helped at all. Knowing Jeremiah, he would have given the picture and information about her birth one look over and let Olivia decide the rest. The relationship between the pair was less than warm, one could say, though Torrie had yearned her whole life to have him look at her with the love that Olivia did. Jeremiah payed for her to go to ballet lessons, etiquette lessons, everything that taught a girl to be quiet and graceful. By the time Torrence was fourteen, she had finally realized the ultimate truth: all Jeremiah desired from her was the perfect child. Something to show off to his corporate betters, to his father, to show them that he was successful in every aspect of his life.
Torrie was just another success.
Soon after, she developed what her mother began to call the perfect defection; an imperfection complex, if you will. Torrence began to push her boundaries, let her teenage instincts kick in. The young girl didn't want to be molded into some perfect little doll to be shown off as the trophy daughter. Torrence just wanted Jeremiah to accept her as she was: imperfect and completely fine with it. Life as she knew it until that point, however, could not have prepared her for the final 'imperfection' that would develop. Whatever mutative gene had been passed to Torrence swept over her like an early fifteenth birthday gift, overtaking her after a stressful argument with Jeremiah about what private school she would attend. In her room, fuming and upset, Torrence was surprised to discover her night stand was about two feet above where it was supposed to be. It should have surprised her; mortified her, even, or so she thought at first. But when her bed began to float, Torrence knew immediately that she was the one doing it. She did not know how, or why, but after that moment she was completely changed. She would never be perfect. She would never be normal.
And that excited her.
For two months, she experimented; small at first, not yet ready (or more accurately, she was too scared) to try for something big. Then, she finally came to the decision that Olivia had to know. Not sharing it with her was keeping a secret, and between Torrence and Olivia, there were no secrets (not as far as Torrie was concerned). The setting? Torrence's bedroom. Door locked, lights dimmed, curtains shut. She wanted no one else to see. Olivia was confused at first, and then, intrigued and stunned. She was not mortified, as Torrence had half expected. She was not terrified of the new found mystery that her daughter had developed. Torrence was relieved, and both secretly agreed that Jeremiah could never know. If he found out, Torrence would be put out of their home. Jeremiah wanted a perfect, normal child. As a mutant, Torrence could be neither.
Torrence did not discover Xavier's Institute For Higher Learning. They found her. A letter in the mail was the first she had ever heard of this institute, but somehow she knew after reading it that this school was not for normal students. After that, things spiraled into place; life drove by quickly, and Jean Gray arrived. She was the only other mutant that Torrence had ever met, and the girl was immediately taken with the woman. It was made known that only Olivia knew of Torrence's powers, and a lengthy conference followed. Jeremiah was swayed. Torrence would be allowed to attend this institute, for he was impressed with their statistics and their prestige. A perfect school for his 'perfect little girl'. Torrence had never been happier in her entire life. For the first time, she would be with people like her. People that could do things like no normal human could. People that just weren't normal.
Her first two months at the school were nervous and joyous. She made friends, began training, and found that independence for which she had been searching her whole life. Unfortunately, that happiness was cut short by the greatest tragedy in Torrence's life to date. On her way to the airport to catch a flight to her mother's for a short visit, Olivia's vehicle was jack knifed from the side by a speeding car that ran a red light. The car was then push into the car in the next lane. Olivia felt no pain. Her neck was immediately broken, and she suffered more injuries; yet she felt none of it, for the snapped neck insured her quick death. Torrence, upon being notified by phone, was devastated. She left Xavier's for three weeks, to attend the funeral and to attend to her newly formed wounds. Jeremiah was colder than ever, and Torrence was surprised to find that she no longer cared. Olivia had been there emotional connection. That was now severed.
When Torrence returned to Xavier's, she opted not to continue her training until she was mentally prepared. Her life went on, though the pain of losing Olivia had taken its toll on her. She developed relationships, met people, grew closer to Jean Gray. After Olivia died, Torrie needed guidance and comfort that could not be given to her by Jeremiah. Jean provided this, and Torrence grew to think of her almost as a mother figure. She could never replace Olivia, but Torrie has come to care for the teacher a great deal. She's come to enjoy the company of people more so than she'd ever thought possible; Riley Finn, Connor Enright, Dawn Summers, Angela Hughes, Katie Brook... just to name a few. There is no lack in decent company for her. Especially with Connor Enright; a young man who's own mother was murdered when he was ten, he could understand her grief and pain. He helped Torrence understand her anguish, helped her to get through it along with Jean. Torrence has had a few boyfriends in her time at Xavier's, the most significant being Max Chadstone last year. That only lasted two and a half weeks, but Torrence got over it quick. That was a case of lust, pure and simple. Other relationships haven't gone on much longer than three months.
It has taken almost a year and a half, but she has only recently returned to her training. At first, she was assigned to the Blue Team, but for reasons including gender imbalance, she was transferred to Team Hellion. She continues to work on her skills as a person and a mutant.
Personality: Torrence is by no means an anti-social hermit. She is a very open, care-free kind of girl, who enjoys speaking and laughing. Interaction with other individuals is no problem for the eighteen year old. Olivia taught her early in her life that no one is too unworthy to speak with her, and Torrence has taken that to heart. She does not shy away from company of any social class. Her money and position doesn't make her any better than everyone else. Jeremiah had that kind of sense, but Torrence never picked it up. Everyone is equal in her eyes. What Torrence is suffering from when it comes to people, however, is the ability to really and truly click. There have been few people that have earned her respect and admiration, and her very desire to be around them when she could be in the company of someone else. Real friends are few and far between, and this is especially true for Torrie. She has friends... but there are only a few she would give such confidence in as she had once given her adoptive mother.
As a person, Torrence is friendly, yes, and artistic. Among her talents, piano and sculpting are her favorite things to do. Both fill her with an ease, a calm that cannot be provided by a person. It's the satisfaction of being alone with yourself and doing something productive with your time, she believes. That is something positive that Jeremiah has provided her with; a sense that whatever you do, it should be with purpose, interest, and love. In fact, Torrence can admit to herself that there were a few traits he impressed on her that were not too terribly horrible for her sense of self. The desire to push herself, in her training, in her academics, in the future; that, too, was a gift from Jeremiah. He was never a horrible man, necessarily. Torrence has never hated him, she has never truly hated anyone in her life.
In her view of her adoptive father, Torrence is distant and mostly unfeeling. Besides, she didn't see him quite as often as she had Olivia, and when she did, they spoke only tentively. Their relationship, as far as Torrence is concerned, is on the same level of distant relatives that send you an odd Christmas card ever four or five years to make sure you know they're still alive. He has impacted her life, but when she looks back now, it all seems like a far away life that she has not lived in a long time. Olivia, too, seems like a fading memory, but Torrence refuses to let her go. The woman had chosen her, out of hundreds of children, to be her child. No one will ever fill the void with which Torrence was left when Olivia left this world. And of all things that Jeremiah has left her with, it is a sense that you must never push yourself too hard or you will lose yourself.
Perfect defection. That's what Olivia used to say. Something she could understand, at least a little. Torrie hates the idea of being perfect. Or, more to the point, she doesn't like the expectation that she should be. Expectations have grown to be a bit of a pet peeve for the young mutant. Of course, there are certain expectations that she can live with: passing school, becoming an X-Man, keeping out of bad trouble (though she rather likes a little mischief now and then). But when people push on Torrence what she does not expect of herself, she gets fairly annoyed. She's her own person. She LIKES being imperfect. If anything, it leaves her with a bit of a wild streak... well, a wild streak compared to how she grew up. She's messy and she doesn't dress herself up for just anyone. Only her real self will do when Torrence presents herself to people, both physically and as a person. If they can't handle that, they don't need her time or attention.
Most people seem to get along just fine with that.
As for her training and education, Torrence is a diligent student. She looks forward to her sessions, getting more in tune with her powers. The concentration takes her mind off of things she'd rather not think about. She likes to work hard. There have been few situations where she's been pushed into an extremely stressful situation, but the few there has been, Torrence does her best never to freeze up. She pushes on, tries to keep a clear, level head. Emotionally, Torrence can be described as sort of peppy; not in a really preppie way (Torrie is probably one of the farthest thing from prep), but she is a generally optimistic individual. Her kind of people tend to be anyone that's willing to speak with her. She drifts between the cliques. Like previously said, she's optimistic and enjoys her days. Life is good, and what she has going for her is good as well. Torrie is very content with her life at this point.
There are few things that get Torrence emotional enough to the point that she starts to cry. One tends to be Olivia; Torrence cannot bear to think on her deceased loved one without become sulky or appear to be in a depressed mood. These moments for Torrence are easy to see, for her usual mood is quite the opposite of such actions. Outside of that, extreme stress could push Torrence to the edge of despair, though she tries to cope with is as well as she is capable of doing. Sometimes, thinking of Olivia makes Torrence feel somewhat alone, though she knows there are people at Xavier that care about her. When she gets in these moods, the mutant can and probably will snap a few times if pushed. Because of her hate of being rude to people, Torrence tries to push these emotions away, and bottles them away. If she cannot, she will lock herself in her dorm until they pass.
Likes:
Reading, sculpting, the arts, music (she plays piano), being herself, lazy afternoons and thunderstorms, sleeping in late, laughter, children, tennis shoes, flaws, people who can just be themselves, lounge music (i.e. Frank Sinatra, Julie London, ect), the power and beauty of youth, doing things that scare her, shaggy hair on boys, boys in general, working hard, walking, good conversations and/or debates, learning new things, cooking, swimming, horseback riding, training, smiling.
Dislikes:
Great expectations, extremely whiny people, social gaps based on financial status and image, working TOO hard, worrying, disrespect, rudeness, racism (all kinds; for color, nationality, mutation, ect), getting talked down to, unsatisfied hopes, dreams about Olivia, obnoxious people, pie, being late for class, being alone for longer than four hours, needles (namely getting shots), cleaning, rap and country music, and she's not a huge cat person (Torrie prefers dogs herself).
Sample Post: Monday, March 19th; mid-morning.
This was ridiculous.
Come on, really. It was almost absurd. Torrence looked the note again once over, reading each word carefully and with a keen interest (almost disbelieving) at what was written on the wrinkled piece of notebook paper. Her dark eyes scanned it, and she could feel the beginnings of an embarrassed giggle rising in her chest. This was smashed down with a force so hard she almost hiccuped. Almost as if sensing her desperate attempt not to laugh, the younger girl next to her giggled for her; it was a soft sound, muffled somewhat by the small hand that had laid itself over her lips. The teacher did not look up; he had not heard it and they would be spared the embarrassment of him taking it away from Torrie's hands and reading the absurdity that was written on it. The younger mutant watched Torrence closely for a moment with a wide set smile on her face before turning her own blue eyes back to the paper in the senior's hand.
Where was the decency in the world anymore? The lack thereof made Torrence feel split between amusement and despair. If Torrie Hamilton could not even escape the gossip produced by idle minds full of teenage boredom, then no one in this school was safe. Nay... no one in this world. Torrie sighed softly, folding the paper again and letting it fall to her desk. Then, she placed her hands upon her forehead and let her head rest there as she closed her eyes and felt the wonder of the idiocy of youth. Were Torrence's feelings of no consequence to the authors of this note? Were they not to be considered when whoever had written it had laid pencil to paper and scripted such a horrid masterpiece of lies? Most of the time the senior was perfectly fine with ignoring what was said about her, but then again, very few people bothered saying anything mean about her at all, and this was just plain cruel. Torrie removed her slender digits from her skull and reached for the note once more, opening it swiftly and reading the contents yet again.
It read as such:
You know, I wonder where this Hamilton chick gets off thinking she's so much better than the rest of us. Always walking around like she owns this whole school. What's her problem anyway? Does she think she's all that just because she fucked Max Chadstone last year? I bet she's slept with half the guys in this school. What a whore.
It wasn't signed, obviously hinting that whoever had received this note first knew the author so well that they would recognize their handwriting. Frustration built as well as embarrassment in Torrence's chest and mind. Max had never so much as seen her naked, let alone ever having slept with her. That's probably why he broke it off so early. Torrence was no whore, and she did not sleep with every man or boy that bothered giving her a second look over. In fact, Torrence was a virgin. So much for the theory this genius had about her sleeping around with half the school, but then again, she had no way to prove to anyone that she hadn't been touched that way unless she lifted up her skirt and let them get an intimate look. Wouldn't THAT just cause a riot? Boys around school would no doubt be scurrying to her dorm room so they could get a sneak peek themselves at what they were missing out on.
It was then that the bell chose to rang, and as the rest of the class stood and gathered their things, eager to leave the room and head off in their respective directions, Torrence sneered half-heartedly at the vulgar note in her hands and crumpled it into a tight ball. She wanted to use her power to tear it to shreds so she wouldn't have to touch it anymore, but that would more than likely have caused a severe mess that Torrie really wasn't in the mood to pick up. Standing up, she grabbed her messenger bag from the floor beside her desk and swung it over her shoulder, crumpled note still in hand. "Can you believe this?" she asked Amelia, who had found the note sitting on her desk during her second class of the day. Amelia shook her head and smiled with a lack of amusement; it wasn't a pretty thing to see on the thin young thing. "Not really, but what can I say? Not everyone here loves you."
Torrie cut her a hard look, but kept it gentle. She didn't want to make the girl think she had said something wrong, because Amelia only spoke the very obvious truth. Not everyone was going to love Torrence, and she had never expected them to. But still... this... this was just outright dislike that someone at this school held for her; a dislike that she'd never really had to experience before. It was shocking, to say the least. Almost like a wake-up call. What was this? Was the great Torrence Hamilton, Ms. "I-don't-have-to-be-perfect-so-I-don't-care-what-you-think", actually caring about what someone had said so openly behind her back (or to be more specific, had written so openly)? Of course. Or, at least somewhat. No one had ever said such a thing to her face, and so Torrie was assuming that everyone at least, if they didn't like her right out, had a severe indifference to her presence. The idea that she offended someone so much by merely existing... well, it was a new one for Torrie.
The dark-haired mutant sighed heavily. She supposed that the older she got, the more likely it was that adolescent hatred was something she'd have to get used to. Which was funny in its own way, because weren't they supposed to grow out of that as they got older? Torrie moved now, heading for the door, and Amelia followed. The note, wrapped in tightly around itself, was tossed into the wastebasket by the exit. It would do her no good to keep it. After all, it was just a silly note from one silly person to another silly person. "Don't let it get you down, okay?" Amelia said softly, though loud enough to be heard over the hustle and bustle of the hallway, and touched Torrence's shoulder lightly; a small comfort for a small wound in Torrence's not-quite-invisible pride. Torrie smiled at her warmly and shook her head a little. "I'll live," was all she said before she gave the girl a brief hug and they went in their seperate directions.
As it was, the note had added an extra bit of aggrivation to Torrence's day that she just did not need. Her plans had centered around going to see Connor during this, her free period, and she was a damn sight nervous to be seeing him at all after what Jean had told her about his amnesia. The note just made her anxiety a little bit worse for the wear. Her legs carried her quickly, that small bit of nervousness eating away at her center and making Torrence wonder if she should wait a few more days to go calling on Logan's son. After all, she didn't think he would remember her anyway, not unless he made some miraculous improvement over the weekend, which was highly unlikely. Still, though, as Torrence passed students and teachers alike as she headed for Connor's next class, a small shred of hope had folded itself around her heart. It was silly to assume that Torrence was special enough to the older boy to be remembered, but she could wish, couldn't she?
The halls where silent after a few moments. Most other students were in class by now, studying their little hearts out as the lone mutant walked through the now deserted hallways. Other students had this free period as well, but most of them were probably back in their dorms or in the library, or doing something more productive than wandering the halls (though Torrie wasn't really wandering at all... she did have a purpose to her direction). The door loomed ahead now, and Torrence adjusted her bag, hand smoothing the front of her grayish-green t-shirt. It had a swooping neck, allowing for a good peek at her slender shoulders but little else, and she also wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a pair of old green converses. Her hair was up today, the spill of dark brown curls kept back away from her naked face. Torrence rarely chose to wear make-up these days; the art was losing its appeal as she got older.
For a moment, Torrence waited, feeling a little silly for peeking into his class to see if he was there. But a moment later, as she glanced through the large glass window that seperated her from the room, Torrie was surprised to find with a quick scan of the room that young master Enright wasn't even there. A few faces turned to look at her, one or two smiled, and she smiled back, but upon a hard glance from the teacher sent Torrence packing. Connor wasn't in there, and it was no use to stick around and oogle at the students that were. The next likely place to look would be the family dorm, so Torrie headed in that direction. It wasn't much farther in any case, and though Torrie may have been nervous, she was still anxious to see Connor as well. She might even spend her whole free time looking for him if she had to. Torrence just wanted him to recognize her, to remember the time they had spent together after her mother had died.
Up the stairs. Around a corner. Torrie drew closer to Logan Howlett's dorm, and she cleared her throat a little. Mr. Howlett wouldn't be home right now; he was teaching. Madison and Arisa shouldn't be home, either. Torrie liked Arisa mostly, but Madison always seemed to push her away. Mostly, it didn't bother Torrie. She rarely saw Madison or Arisa anyway, not unless they were with Connor. The door was up ahead, and Torrence's slender legs carried her smoothly till she was standing in front of it. Her heart beat steadily, but at a somewhat increased rate. Why was she so nervous? It was Connor. And he probably wouldn't remember her anyway, so why was she so damn nervous? Torrie took a deep breath and knocked firmly three times on the wooden door. If Connor wasn't home, she'd go looking for him elsewhere. But as she stood here, waiting for someone to answer the door, Torrie couldn't help but wonder if she should have just let it alone for a few more days. This was too eager.
Edited by: Her Betrayal at: 5/18/06 1:31 am
Re: Torrence Hamilton - Complete
All character involvements with me have been discussed over MSN, as has the sample posts involvement with Connor. Obviously. Just making a comment so everyone knows *nods nods*
Anything I noticed I commented with you ove MSN, as you were on, so at this point, I don't have anything furter to add. Matt I'm sure will live up to his title of Ultimate Nagger of Doooom so don't worry there
Re: Torrence Hamilton - Complete*Multiple stamps.* Wow ... definaltey need more rpers who put this much thought and beauty into their posts. I look forwards to roleplaying with you. I'll try and poke Ann into reading ur bio
Paige:How can I have feelings for someone who's not even real?
Re: Torrence Hamilton - Complete
is poked .... though id have read it anyway she says defensively......looks great to me.... stamps...... ohhhh and you can let me know what she thinks about Logan later.......
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