Primrose Shires

[Mother Nature]

Player Name: Green
Contact Info: [e-mail] (made specifically for this site)
Name: Primrose May Shires
Alias): Mother Earth, Prim, Sage, Mother Nature, Demeter, Green Thumb
Codename: Mother Nature
Age: 46
Gender: Female
Type: Mutant
Affiliation: X-Men
Avatar and Picture:
Play-by: Marcia Cross
Family:

Emmeline Shires (mother) ;
Arnold Shires (father) ;
Gregory Shires (Brother)
-Felicia Shires (sister-in-law)
-Zachary and Mikayla Shires (niece and nephew)

All non-mutants

General Appearance:

Primrose is a natural red-head, with pale green eyes and slim figure. Her features are delicately carved, with high cheekbones, and a forehead that is a little too high up for her liking. Her chin is a bit too squared in her opinion, and she's a little thrown off about how her nose is too small. Her pretty orange locks are a little distracting to her, and on more than one occasion she has tried for a more nature-loving brown shade. Her most common complaint is the fact that her skin is much too pale for such a strong shade of red, but even when she tries, she simply cannot be tanned. Her hands are slender and careful, delicate enough to place a sapling into the ground, but firm enough to pull out the pesky weeds she detests so much. Despite her physical insecurities, she has been called pretty often, even though she can't wonder why. Her feet are those of a dancer's, though she doesn't do so much, and she walks with an elegant, serene grace that shows the status of a wealthy, significant woman.

Although she can't, or hasn't, done much to make herself look prettier (she only likes natural-shades of makeup), Prim always had a taste for nice clothing. Her favorites are delicate, silky fabrics in shades of greens, browns, and golds. She doesn't ever paint her nails, or do much with her hair. She just allows everything to flow naturally, and the look definitely works for her.

Personality:

Primrose is rather uptight, to put it bluntly and truthfully. She grew up in a wealthy, strictly conservative home (and she firmly believes in her Republican ways to this day, mind you) and was kept very sheltered as a child. She has somewhat of an obsession with everything being in it's place, as it always was growing up. She, still has money, from her family and her successful career (cheater) as a botanist. In all honesty, however, she tends to put it more towards her gardens then anything. Exotic plants, strange animals, trees at alarming heights--- you name it. She has everything from daffodils to poison ivy in her garden.

However, aside from being squeamish around liberals, or snappy at atheists, Prim has a place in her heart for everyone and everything. She often labels people as a different plant, depending on their auras and personalities. If you're angry, she's going to call you poison oak, if you're sweet, you get to be a little tulip. She never says these nicknames for people out loud, but she identifies unfamiliar faces with the plant category she placed them in.

Even though Prim is a very kind woman, she is more at home by herself, with her plants. And if you harm the earth in any way-- kicking a puppy, throwing a bottle in the park, polluting the air, ocean, or earth-- prepare to have some pretty nasty lilies give you a present.

Prim, aside from being a major environmentalist, staunch Republican, and friend to animals, is also extremely judgmental. If you do not fit her idea of normal, she will silently judge you, and maintain an icy distance. Despite the fact that she's warm and welcoming to everyone, Prim can also be rather. . . cold blooded. Like the plants she loves so much, she can be poisonous when necessary, and devious at any given moment. Nature may be beautiful, but she always has a vengeance. You pollute her skies and seas, don't expect to get away with it. A natural disaster will follow up, and you and your loved ones just might be in it's path.

Abilities:

Prim has only one ability, but it is definitely a significant, powerful one. She has the ability to control the world around her, especially plants. She can influence a tree to grow, a flower to bloom, even a grape vine to flourish. Her abilities extend to being able to influence how the earth around her will grow. Along with her chlorokinesis, Prim also has limited geokinesis as well. This is the ability to go beneath the plants she loves so much, and wrench the earth from the bottom up. She can fling rocks with a flick of the wrist, and spray mud at an enemy.

On the defensive side, while many wouldn't view flowers and dirt as a threat, Prim can handle herself pretty well for an self-proclaimed old lady. Those branches, on that harmless tree behind you, imagine them growing at an alarming speed, and wrapping you into them. Or think of the normal grass, sprouting twenty foot vines that will choke you on a moments notice. Even that daisy, can be converted into a giant, carnivorous plant that will snap you inside of it. And the geokinetic part, that's pretty simple. The rock is chucked at your temple and you die. The end.
. . . pleasant . . .

History:

Born in Atlanta, Georgia, Primrose is no stranger to big cities. But at age seven, after years of pampering, private school education, socially conservative views, and a life that focused around the Church, moving to New York City, the US's largest cultural melting pot, Prim and her family were completely lost. They were used to seeing everyone at Church, having the same views as everyone else, and being able to show their traditional values throughout their lifestyle. Prim and her brother, Gregory, weren't allowed to pray in school anymore, and it was found unacceptable in their new public school to denounce the poor English and disrespectful behaviors of the children in their classes. The children always complained of how much they hated it there, but Prim's father, a renowned surgeon who's career looked much brighter in the larger city, had uprooted the family in order to come there. Mother always told them to shut them up, "Daddy knows best." And with those three words, the two children were expected to suck it up and get by.

In the years to come, Prim had learned to hate New York City, but to not speak out against it for fear of nonacceptance. She kept her Republican views, even though most of her friends were the exact opposite, and lived out her teenage life the best that she could. She was studious, near the top of her class, and especially enjoyed Biology, which foreshadowed future events. In school, her obedience to the rules and modest apparel did not gain her any love from her peers, but she was often favored by teachers, furthering their dislike for her.

After graduating, Primrose returned to her home in Georgia to attend the University of Georgia, to study botany. Her life was pretty dull in college, she started and ended a few relationships, and eventually, at age twenty nine, graduated with her PhD in Botany. She was offered a job studying the plantlife in South America, and immediately accepted. It was there where she discovered her ability to control her beloved plants, even though there were signs in years previous, that she was too blind to see. She never thought she would become a mutant (even though she was one her whole life), which was always viewed as a bad thing to humans. Maybe, unconsciously, she did recognize the signs that she was more than just a human, but her fear was too great to ever consider it.

Thinking that, if she gave up her career and left South America, the weird things that happened to her around plants would subside, Prim returned to America, to, hopefully, settle down in Texas, a place she had always loved. And besides, if she stayed as far away from vast plant life as possible, she might be able to forget about her . . . abnormalities . . . and go back to her life. In Texas, Prim used her extensive knowledge in Botany and years of experience in the field to gain a job teaching at Texas University, but making sure her pupils stayed indoors with books, rather than outside actually learning about the plants. In the years to come, Prim actually believed that she was free of this curse, and started dating again, hoping, that she could still have a normal life, starting over at age forty two.

But that dream was ruined when he showed up. Professor Charles Xavier, of --- wait for it --- New York. She knew this man was not someone she wanted to socialize with, but he came to her under the guise that he was an admirer of her studies and extensive research, and a plant enthusiast himself. He came to her school, and because of his fame, her colleagues were both a little jealous and terrified at the same time. This man was a telepath, but Prim was ignorant to the fact. Her friends, however, knew from his mutant rights campaigns that were all over the media.

However, when she courteously accepted his desire to go to dinner with her, he dropped his ruse. He told her that he was indeed a mutant, with telepathic abilities. She was terrified. But he went on. He told her that she was a mutant as well, as much as she denied it, and that it was not something to be ashamed of. He told her that he would be honored --- oh, how he played with words --- to have her come teach at his school, to other young mutants. He also told her, that she would need to be taught. Because if not, she could hurt those she loved. She replied with the simple words, with her voice dropped to a whisper, "I am not a mutant." After that, she left rather unceremoniously, leaving the Professor to pay the bill and to not make her acquaintance for another four years.

Xavier's words deeply disturbed Prim and haunted her for years to come. While it had been a short exchange, not all that memorable to most, the hour she spent in the little restaurant in Texas with the crippled man had scarred Prim, and surfaced her worst fears. This was something she couldn't put away, like the premature budding of her class's experiment, some flowers in the sixth grade. Or when she was studying a rare tree in the rainforest, when she made it grow so many leaves it toppled over from the weight. Even the time when her grass leveled itself. No, this was much deeper.

On October eighth of last year, Prim decided she couldn't live with herself anymore. She wanted the fear to cease. So, in a rash, impulsive action, she. . .
Went to New York.
The Professor Xavier welcomed her with opened arms. He told her that he knew she would come some day, which, unexpectedly, drove her to tears. They took a cab to his institute, where she was immediately welcomed. Currently, she has been training to control her mutant abilities.

Other:

Miss Shires is a remarkably poor hand to hand combatant, with little physical strength at all. Her intellect makes up for this ten-fold, but if you get her by surprise, chances are, she's not going to overpower you at all.

Sample RP:

- Four Years Ago -
The whole scene had an eerie feeling to it. Primrose Shires, in her green, pinstriped dress suit, and matching skirt, walked alongside a man. A bald man, with wise eyes, that kept looking forward. He wheeled along, without pushing the wheels of his metallic wheelchair, that had two X- shaped wheels and a rather uncomfortable looking seat. Prim's hair was a tied in a tight bun, reflecting her current feelings. Reclusive. Uncomfortable. However, the man they called Charles Xavier looked completely calm. In fact, although it was an incredibly hot, dry day, the Professor looked as if he was actually enjoying himself.

"Nice weather in Texas, my dear," The Professor said dully, trying to start conversation. It was a pathetic attempt, but Prim could tell he was saving all of the real talking for when they were eating. When no response came, Xavier didn't appear unphased at all. He just kept moving along, until they reached Prim's car.

Pursing her lips, she said, "Excuse me for not having handicap conveniences," She said softly, and he smiled up at her. She looked away immediately, not wanting to see those calculating gray eyes.

"Not to worry, child." He couldn't be that much older than she was, so why would he call her that? Perhaps it was a habit that he called everyone child. Maybe he worked with children. "We will manage." The way he said we unnerved her, as if they were part of a team. He, still smiling, wheeled over to the passenger door, and heaved himself into the seat. She came over to him, and folded his wheel-chair slowly.

It was too late to cancel now. He was already in the car. She thought to herself, as she, slowly as possible, put the chair into her trunk. She walked over to the front seat, heels clicking. She took a deep breath as she opened the door, and sat down. She started the car, and, as usual, his knowing-gray eyes stared ahead of him, as if he didn't need to look to see her. Uncomfortable as ever, she pulled out of the parking lot, and started for the road.

"So, where do we have the pleasure of dining, Miss Shires?" The Professor asked, in his emotionless, yet comforting (oddly doing the exact opposite to her) voice. This time, he actually looked towards her, causing her to jump.

"Oh, w-well," She choked. She couldn't put her finger on it, but this man made her extremely nervous. "A small restaurant called Auntie June's. It doesn't sound like much, but I really enjoy it. I hope you will as well," She said, not glancing at him.

Turning his head away, Xavier chuckled. "I took you for the more well-off restaurant, Miss Shires. Or are you just treating this old man to a diner, because you'd rather not it appear as if we were on a date?" Clutching the steering wheel, Primrose said nothing. Nothing at all.

"Ahaha! My dear, it's perfectly all right. I'd do the same thing if our places were reversed," He said, placing both hands in his lap. This old man was too lighthearted and jolly to be anything but abnormal.

Forcing herself to smile, Prim said, "We're here," And immediately went for the trunk. Once they were inside, they sat themselves at a booth, near the window. The evening sky was dimming, and Charles stared at her intently.

"So, Mr. Xavier, what is it you wanted me for? I have a feeling it's not my work with flowers," Prim said curtly, trying not to. She unfolded a napkin and placed it onto her lap, after crossing her legs.

"While I do admire your work, I assure you," Xavier said, "I'm not the plant enthusiast I passed off myself to be. Actually, let me let you in on a little secret. Your colleagues would never have believed me, unless I didn't . . ." He trailed off.

Curious, Prim asked, "Unless you did not what?" She tried not to make it sound like she was demanding him to continue.

"Well, Miss Shires, please don't think ill of me . . . " He said casually, "I am a mutant. A telepath, to be exact. I mind controlled your friends to convince you to go with me. Because, I have another secret."

Horror struck, Prim's jaw dropped. "A m-mutant?" She asked timidly, as if he had not said it any more clearly.

"My dear, a mutant. A telepath reads minds. Of course, I have not delved into yours, that would be rude." He said softly. When she didn't reply, he went on. "And so are you. A dangerous mutant, with nearly unlimited potential. I'm surprised you allowed your powers to lay dormant this long. It takes a certain degree of self-control to do so. Normally, you'd have unleashed your powers at a young age in a dire situation, but you, child, you . . . are a curious case.

"I am proposing to you, not only will you be paid more then your current job, and have many more benefits, to come join me at my school for gifted young people. You will receive a free living space and mind you, it's quite a nice place. You will also receive training in your Chlorokinetic abilities," He said.

Body numb, senses dulled, Prim was incredibly vulnerable at that moment. "I . . . I can't, " She said, shocked.

"My dear, no is not an option. Because, if you leave your powers silent any longer, they will be the ones controlling you. And you could hurt the people you love, or anyone that gets in your way. It happens often, especially in youngsters, but in someone who hasn't used these powers in so long . . . " He broke off as she stood up. She bent towards him, and said:

"I am not a mutant."

With that, she threw her napkin at the table, and marched away, into the night, taking her car, and leaving the old man with the bill and no ride home.