CAMPER FORM
Name: Elvina Navy Bobadilla Ericson (Spanish - or at least in South America, need double check about Spain in particular - take their mother's last name as well as their father's, hence the long name)
Alias: Vin - call her Elvina and forever receive the glare (in your general direction) of death
Age: 13 - ahhh, the cusp of teenage years
Gender: female
Powers: CLAIRVOYANCE
Aura: maroon, low frequency, red
Appearance:
mother - Spanish, father - Northern European mix
Face - long curly hair, mid back
Androgynous body type - puberty hasn't hit quite yet
clothing - sneakers, dark blue skinny jeans, white button up, blazer
|| Because of her inability to see, she often sticks to blacks, whites, and greys. If she does ever wear color, it will be only one item -- typically something like a scarf, though she does have a few pairs of brilliantly colored pants.
accessories - folding cane
Personality:
○ realistic
○ neat freak - because of her inability to see
◐ dry
◐ into fashion - takes after dad
● sometimes a bit slow on the social cues because sightless
● procrastinator
History:
Mom has always been...eccentric, believing way too much in the supernatural. Spirits, fortune telling, palm reading, the whole shebang. But ironically I seem to have received my powers from my down to earth, grounded dad. Something about an adopted great great great (times something) grandfather who was adopted after the backlash of some war. Anyways. There was a huuuge freakout when mum and dad found out I was "special." Well, more on mum's side because, well, it's her obsession. Dad just sort of shrugged, fixed his tie, and said that that explained a lot. Sass.
So, off they shipped me. To a camp. With a bunch of other random kids like me. Joy. At least I was allowed to bring my violin and guitar with me - the piano was a little out of the question.
---
I haven't always been blind. Up until a few of years ago, my vision was as good as it got. Then, coming home one day, a drunk driver blind sided us and -- hasta la vista! -- sight was a thing of the past. But I don't miss it. Not usually, at least. It's been long enough now that memory from pre-eternal darkness is a bit hazy. But I'll start from the beginning.
Mum and dad met years ago in New Orleans during Mardi Gra, of all places. Why is this weird? Well, not so much for mum. She's always been a little...eccentric. To put it mildly. Her belief in the supernatural -- spirits, fortune telling, palm reading, fate, destiny, the whole shebang -- has, and is, running strong. Dad blames it (lovely) on all the ghostbusters she watched as a child. On the other hand, dad is well, none of that. He's about as Joe Brown as you can get. Admittedly, he has quite the eye for fashion, but he designs suits. You can only get so crazy with a suit.
Anyways.
I came into the picture about five years after their marriage. A happy new year's gift, if you will. Whoo.
The younger years were pretty typical for me. I ate paste, went to primary school, loved it. When I was younger, my grammie insisted I start taking piano lessons -- something about developing the brain -- so my parents set me up with lessons. Fortunately for all parties involved, I took to the lessons like a bump on a log.
Life was all pretty kosher until the accident. I don't remember much of it -- just faint memories of being in the car one minute then being aware I was in some sort of bed the next. I wouldn't say I "woke up" per say, because it was then that I discovered my vision had kicked the bucket. To say I was upset was...a bit of an understatement. Once I was mobile, I had to relearn how to walk and how to read and how to feed myself. It's ridiculous how hard and frustrating it is to get food from the plate to your mouth when you can see either. On the up side though, I got to keep my eyes. Even if they are useless. The doctors said something about pressure in the brain and nerves is what caused the lights to go out. But still, in most situations I wear some sunglasses. I got lucky, those gigantic, black, face-eating sunglasses came back into style around the same time I got out of the hospital. Of course, it doesn't make any difference to me, but I suppose it is hard to talk to someone who is constantly looking at not your face.
By the time I was adjusted enough to function in the real world again it was time for me to move on to secondary school. Well, I would have been. I kept up with my studies for the most part through tutors -- studying helped me focus on something other than my new ability of eternal night. The only drawback was that with the lack of sight came a flare up of my psychic abilities.
At first I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me. Trying to see things I obviously couldn't see. It was just a flash of sight that was just as quickly gone. Like a reverse blink, if that was a thing. But after a few months, the random bursts of sight became more drawn out, and I began to realize that what I saw wasn't me seeing. Instead I was looking out of the eyes of any odd person who happened to be in my general vicinity. I didn't have any control over it at the time, meaning my powers would flare involuntarily. There was -- much later -- an awkward incident involving the school rugby team and the boys locker room, but that's another story.
