Born to parents who were hunters, Poe was raised in a somewhat peculiar enviorment and family life. From a young age, her head was filled with stories about ghosts and monsters and things that stories that parents usually tell their children to scare them to sleep. Her parents didn’t tell her these stories to scare her, they told them to her to prepare her, to educate her. Poe, on the other hand, ate them up. She spent her days reading about anything ‘out there’ she could find. There was rarely a time her head wasn’t in a book and she preferred it that way.
In school, she learned quickly and never once felt the urge to stop. In elementary school she earned top marks in most subjects and wouldn’t bat an eye to help out her fellow students with their academic problems. She made quick friends and was always on good terms with her teachers and superiors as she made her way through school. While she was offered to move up a grade a time or two, her parents declined, saying that she preferred to stay with children her age as it made her uncomfortable to be amongst the older kids. Naturally, you don’t want to push a fourth or fifth grader into a class with children who are well on their way to learning how to bully each other.
Growing up in the country in Colorado afforded her the luxury of lush woods and plenty to explore. Though she had plenty of friends, most of her time was spent with her cousin, Connor. Practically inseparable, they spent entire summers together, wrote each other during the school years and called to tell tales of adventure whenever they could. Connor was Poe’s best friend and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
When Poe was nine, Connor passed away suddenly.
After Connor’s death, Poe learned to cope with losing something that had always been there. Someone she assumed would always be there to tell crazy stories to and go on adventures with. To this day, she still visits his grave on his birthday.
All was well and good for Poe until her ability manifested early in her freshmen year of high school. During a math test, she completely zoned out, entering what the teacher described as a trance-like state. The teacher reported that the test was started with no problem and all the children were busy hunched over their papers as they answered questions. A few minutes into the test, she says Poe raised her head and simply look forward as if she were daydreaming. The teacher said her hand was still writing, though Poe was not looking at her paper. She watched her student write for a few moments before Poe stopped and appeared to have a confused look on her face as she looked back down at her test paper. It turns out, she didn’t remember writing any of it and didn’t even remember staring off into space as she did so. Poe remembered receiving the test paper and starting on it, even writing down the first couple answers on the sheet. Then, she remembers nothing.
Her teacher was obviously concerned and her parents were contacted. Poe wasn’t the sort of student to pull some kind of prank and she certainly wasn’t the sort of student to just zone out while taking a test. Obviously, her parents were confused and agreed with her teacher that this wasn’t like their daughter at all. It was written off as a simple strange occurrence and no action was taken about it.
Until it happened again and again and again. Throughout her sophomore year she continued to have what her teachers and parents would later describe as ‘episodes’ where she would enter that same trance-like state and just start writing. It would happen at any time and almost anywhere. Frequently during class, while taking notes or tests. Sometimes in study hall when she was working on her own things or helping another student. At home, it happened while she was on her laptop and once while at the kitchen table. Ruining a section of the family table with a fork as she etched words into the wood during dinner.
As the frequency of her episodes rose, the more worried and concerned her parents became and they eventually persuaded her to see a therapist. Poe, of course, did not want to. She didn’t want to think something was ‘wrong’ with her. No teenager does. Still, to put her parents at ease, she said she would go once a month to talk for an hour with someone she didn’t know about some strange ‘writing problem’ she had. It sounded absolutely absurd to her. But she could tell her parents weren’t sure what to make of their daughter’s problem.
Prior to attending Amalgaverse High, Poe went to a private school for a very short time. Overall, it was a bad decision on the part of her and her parents, so she dislikes talking about it and will generally avoid bringing it up at all. Thankfully, so few people know that it's not even an issue. Though, she still bears physical reminders from her time there. Her hands are scarred somewhat severely, the right one moreso than the left. When asked about them, it's always a story about burning them when she was little, though to anyone who might have some knowledge in wounds, they're not burns at all.
Upon being transferred out of the private school, her parents uprooted her for her own safety (and likely their own) and well being.
Poe is amazingly bright and almost always friendly. She enjoys meeting new people and, most importantly, learning about new people. She can be overly curious and this has gotten her into trouble on numerous occasions.
ABILITIES & SPECIAL TALENTSEdit
Poe is able to see ghosts and spirits. Not just some of the time, not occasionally, but all the time. If there is one present, it appears much like another person in the room. This ability has only recently appeared, starting to show up right around the time she was transferred out of her private school.
She also has an ability commonly known as 'automatic writing' or 'spirit writing' where she goes into a trance-like state and simply writes. The writing is commonly not in her own language and generally doesn't seem to make a whole lot of sense. This ability has waned somewhat, since the ghosts who were making her write have now begun to appear and speak to her.
Laura Wyman - Mother
Thomas Wyman - Father
Friends, Acquaintances, EcteraEdit
Phoenix Mulder - Poe and Phe are sort of unlikely friends. They don't run in the same circles or have much of the same interests. But Poe discovered something about Phe that most people don't know.
Eloise Burton - BFF and partner in crime. Eloise brings out the worst (best?) in Poe and they're both horrid monsters when they're together. Especially to boys named Alec.
Sam Winchester - Cute and also a hunter. What are the odds? Poe really likes Sam because he's intelligent and holds similar interests. But it doesn't seem like his family wants him making friends.
Dean Winchester - Sam's brother and kind of an asshole. Ugh.
Alec McDowell - Poe knows Alec from the private school they attended. It's not something they enjoy talking about. The school, not knowing each other, natch. Also, WE DIDN'T SLEEP TOGETHER.
Clara Ford - Clara is also from the same private school Alec and her attended. Poe likes Clara because she makes Alec happy and Poe likes it when her friends are happy. Clara is also a little scary sometimes.
Caine Owens - A boy with manners? Shocking! Poe went out for lunch with him completely at random once because she's a sucker for pretty boys. He's also a vampire. She's unsure how she feels about that.
Aelius Flynn - She does not have a crush on the British librarian who's old enough to be her father. Not one bit.
Adrian Palton, Albert Wesker, Alexcia Montgomery, Alexis Miller, Arienette Paulsen, Bemis Letowski, Boheme Rhapsody, Bren Findlay, Brody Romo, Caine Owens, Casey Finch, Constantine Oberst, Corwin McGrath, Danielle Edwards, Devon LeCroix, Dexter McDuff, Doyle, Ellis Gribble, Estefan Alvarez, Ethan Ford, Everett Lane, Finnegan Quinn, Gabe Shaw, Ginny Potts, Gram Shaw, Guy Paulsen (minus the beard), Gwen Chester, Heather Mason, James Barnes, Jo Harvelle, Kazuya Saito, Kyle Edwards, Leon Kennedy, Levi Blakely, Luke Taylor, Mabel Evans, Monet St. Croix, Natasha Romanov, Remy LeBeau, Rigby Milligan, Shane Hayes, Shannon Lazzara, Shira Catrice
- B*Witched – C'est la Vie
- I said, hey boy sittin’ in your tree | Mummy always wants you to come for tea | Don't be shy, straighten up your tie | Get down from your tree house sittin' in the sky | I wanna know just what to do | Is it very big is there room for two? | I got a house with windows and doors | I'll show you mine if you show me yours
- Abney Park – All the Myths Are True
- Our ancient nightmares, the ghostly legends, | And fiendish tales, all the myths are true. | Scientists have unearthed enormous skeletons | They think we've disproved that all the myths are true.
- Owl City – Hot Air Balloon
- We wound a race track | Through your mom's kitchen chairs | And fought the shadows back | Down your dark basement stairs | I lit a match, then let it catch | To light up the room | And then you yelled as we beheld | An old maroon hot air balloon
- Sarah McLachlan – Building a Mystery
- You come out at night | That's when the energy comes | And the dark side's light | And the vampires roam | You strut your Rasta wear | And your suicide poem | And a cross from a faith that died | Before Jesus came | You're building a mystery | You live in a church | Where you sleep with voodoo dolls | And you won't give up the search | For the ghosts in the halls
- Sixpence None The Richer – Kiss Me
- Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight | Lead me out on the moonlit floor | Lift your open hand | Strike up the band | And make the fireflies dance | Silver moon's sparkling | So kiss me | Kiss me down by the broken tree house | Swing me upon its hanging tire | Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat | We'll take the trail marked on your father's map
- Essex Green – Snakes In The Grass
- Oh, I can't, it's condiluted | A change of mind to day for certain | I know the book, I think I wrote it | The offer's dead, it's fiction | So go ahead eight times a day | So go ahead and tell me what you want | Two keys twisted and turned, | stalking our own front door | (please tell me what's going on) | Oh, I can't, it's nothing I've known | Leaving notes in the carpet, | reading them on the floor | (please tell me what's going on)
- Maria Taylor – Birmingham 1982
- Do you still remember? | Fireflies, four-leaf clovers | Finger-painted skin | Where life was a reaction | And love was just laughing with a friend | Flashlights under covers | Raindrops on my tongue | When life had no distractions | And love wasn't hurting anyone
- Florence + The Machine - Blinding
- Felt it in my fist, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids / Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs / No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone / No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden / No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love / No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love / No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world / And I could hear the thunder and see the lightning crack / All around the world was waking, I never could go back / Cos all the walls of dreaming, they were torn right open / And finally it seemed that the spell was broken
- Squirrel Nut Zippers - Ghost of Stephen Foster
- Met the ghost of Stephen Foster at the Hotel Paradise / This is what I told him as I gazed into his eyes: / "Ships were made for sinking, / Whiskey made for drinking, / If we were made of cellophane, we'd all get stinking drunk quite faster"
- My Brightest Diamond - Something Of An End
- When you came jumpin' down the stairs / Screamin' bloody awful / You woke up God & everyone / Screamin' bloody awful / So we took you to the doctor / He said yeah it's a bad one / And there's such a shame about it / 'Cause she's so pretty / And then the earth started shakin' / And, yeah, it was crazy / And Heaven & Hell came crashing down
- Johnny Flynn - The Wrote & The Writ
- The last of which I'll tell you now / As it flies down the sink / I never knew a part of you / You didn't set in ink, in ink / The letters that you left behind / No longer shall I read / Your blood's between the pages / And I can't stand to see you bleed / And I'll soon forget what was never there / Your words are ash and dust / All that's left is the song I've sung / The breath I've taken and the one I must