Disclaimer: I don't own DC Comics or the Titans.
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PROLOGUE
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Dust covered Jemima Allson's skin, giving the allusion that it was darker than it actually was, and her hip length, wavy, black hair was so matted that the nineteen year old wished she could stop at the nearest motel in order to clean up. If she wanted to get away from Xander Jones, she knew she would have to keep running until she made it to the corner where she had promised that young woman that they would meet up. All Jemima had to do was keep quiet, and not use superpowers she'd been born with, and Xander would be unable to track her. Except that those powers had thrown a wrench in her plans.
If she didn't remain in total control of her emotions, Jemima knew that Xander would be able to use those emotions as a beacon and locate her without her even knowing. And if he found her, then he would be able use those same emotions against her before she even knew what was going on. He might even send the one member of his gang that he knew she would be able trust implicitly to capture her heart. Once someone had fallen in love with her...she knew what the consequences were if that someone weren't the right person. She just wasn't sure if she was willing to pay the price, which was why she couldn't let anyone know how she was feeling. Not even herself.
As she made her way down an alley a few blocks from where she was to meet up with the woman, she heard a siren in the distance. Her heart began to beat faster as the siren drew closer. Soon, the siren was close behind her, and Jemima climbed onto a bench that was right next to her, and sat with her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth, hyperventilating as she tried to block out the pain caused by the noise by covering her ears with her hands. A pain that she believed that no one else would understand. Not even the young woman she would be meeting up soon or the goon that Xander would surely be sending her way the moment he found out that she'd she'd slipped through his fingers. Not even Emmeline Whitcomb, her roommate at Ellsmore University would truly understand her despite the fact she was studying to be a psychologist.
"Hey. You alright?" A voice said, struggling to break through the meltdown the siren has caused.
Shaking her head, Jemima just sat on the bench, rocking back and forth as she muttered the same word over and over. No one knew why she did that. Nor did they understand why she chose the word thorn as the word she used when she was stressed out. All they knew was that she did that, and it helped calm her down.
The woman put her hand on Jemima's shoulder, causing her to flinch. "I asked, "You alright?"
"No." She got up off the bench, and sprinted towards the nearest cross street. The street lamps were already starting to switch on as she reached the corner of Vine and Maple. While it may not have been the street corner she wanted, she knew that she wasn't going to explain to the lady why she was freaking out about the siren. And she wasn't about to tell anyone her secret.
I may be only a computer science major whom people think won't do anything, but I got myself into this mess. And now, I have to be the one to get my out of it without any of Mom's advice or Dad's patience. This has to be something I need to do myself.
Jemima glanced around. She knew she was getting close to the corner she'd agreed upon, but her heart was racing, and she still hoped that she wouldn't hear anymore sirens. There would be time for her calm down later, but first she had to get somewhere safe.
Form:
Name [First, Middle and Last]
Nicknames:
Preferred Name:
Age:
Date of Birth [ Month and Day only]:
Gender:
Sexuality:
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Appearance
Hair:
Eyes:
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Weight:
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Personality
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Personality:
Habits:
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Fears:
Phobias:
Dreams:
Weaknesses:
What they feel about Jemima:
What Type of person would they date:
How do they feel about secrets:
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History
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Backstory:
Family:
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Super related
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Costume:
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Hero or Villain: