<img src="https://i.imgur.com/wnhX0X2.gif"Align="right">Name: Fallon Delaney

Nickname: Clover

Age: 34

Gender: Female

Nationality: Irish

Theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=opHXmx3hB-k



Ability: Cryokinesis

When the shite hit the fan, Fallon developed the gift of Cryokinesis or for those of us who don't live in our Mother's Basements surrounded by comic books, the girl makes ice. She dares you to make a Frozen joke. Truth be told, Fallon has on the rare occasion, been accused of being a little cold and so if there was any kind of intelligent design behind this whole apocalyptic mess, then they have a sense of humour.

Like Elsa, without the stirring musical number, Fallon can make snow, ice and frigid winds with very little effort. More often than not she must be touching the object she wishes to freeze or at least have contact with a source of water. Over time, she has learnt to make use of the moisture found naturally in the atmosphere around her to fuel her abilities but it is also possible for Fallon to manipulate the water in the human body as well. Her limits begin to reveal themselves when the concentration of what she is attempting to manipulate tips below the 70% water point.

Providing she has water however, the extent of what Fallon can do is limited only by her own imagination. I mean, physics kind of left the party a long time ago. By dropping the temperature of the molecules that make up any given object, Fallon can force it to explode. She can cause water to rise, turning it to ice and shaping it into any number of useful things such as shields, daggers and obnoxiously optimistic snowmen. Fallon also possesses the ability to turn snow and ice back into water as well as significantly drop the temperature of her environment to dangerous levels, well, dangerous to anyone but her.

Fallon is immune to the effects of her own snow and ice as well as weather-induced cold snaps. She is capable of standing on an ice cap or in a freezer for long periods of time without succumbing to hypothermia. One might think that this would mean that her own internal body temp is always running cold but that's not the case.

Weakness: Like all Gifts, Fallon's comes with some weaknesses. Unlike other Abilities, Fallon's Gift relies on the presence of water. She cannot manifest it on her own, though she can, with some degree of difficulty, pull it out of the air. Should she be deprived of all water however and were she not willing to dangerously risk drawing upon her own internal supply, Fallon's Abilities are negated. Of course when it comes to someone like Fallon, that in no way means she is powerless. For the best effect, she must be touching whater it is she wishes to freeze but honestly, if she's close enough to get her hands on you and you're a threat, she doesn't need a Superpower to take you down.

What seems to be the biggest weakness when it comes to using this Gift excessively, is that Fallon is at great risk of succumbing to spiking Fevers and the accompanying sympotoms that they bring. Ever since the manifestation of her Gift, her body temp runs on average, at least 4 degrees hotter than normal. Her daily temperature would have at one time been considered a dangerous fever but Fallon's body seems to have found some kind of stranger equilibrium as it compensates for her Gift. Should she exert herself however, Fallon's fever can reach heights such as 106 and higher and should this happen, not only does her immune system become compromised but she can begin to exhibit symptoms such as Migraines, Muscle Pain, Nausea and Seizures.

Other Special Abilities: Fallon Delaney is scrappy. This of course, is just a cute way of she's a survivor. Which in its essence, is a Special Ability. She's street smart, observant, intelligent and adaptive. She speaks four languages, can ice skate, Tango, knit and play poker. Fallon has never Enlisted into any legitimate Military but she's just as skilled with a weapon as any Special Forces Soldier. There is scarcely a weapon that Fallon can't use or learn to use with startling speed. Her true talents seem to lay with ballistics however. Fallon is a gifted bomb maker, though truth be told, it's not a skill she's used in a while.
To bottom line of it all, is that this new world was made for Fallon Delaney.



Face Claim: Krysten Ritter

Appearance: Fallon is the black cat that you superstitiously avoid on the sidewalk. With her 5'5/152cm, 110lbs/50kg frame, the little spitfire walks with a cocky sense of self-imposed confidence that can make her seem standoffish and unapproachable. Like a cat however, Fallon also possesses an air of elevated cool that makes most around her feel a near-desperate need to get to know and be liked by her. Unfortunately for them, Fallon doesn't like most people. It's nothing personal. It's the job.

With pale buttermilk skin and eyes the colour of rolling Irish hills, Fallon is a pretty little rose, complete with thorns. Despite her abilities, Fallon's flesh is always hot to the touch. Her body runs warmer than most making her constantly feverish and suitable to illness. Her raven black hair is a far deeper shade of black than what seems to be available naturally and yet Fallon won't admit to dying it, in fact, she takes offense. Like the eerie sheen on an oil slick or the multifaceted reflection of a crow's wings, Fallon's hair seems to possess a life of its own. The truth is, all Delaney's have ebony hair and milk-pale skin. More often than not she keeps her hair just below shoulder length and preened straight. Her bangs are cut sharp and bring attention to those emerald and copper flecked eyes that hold an intimidating intensity along with a wild cheek that both makes her dangerous and fucking sexy as hell.

Ever since she was young, Fallon has always dressed for function over fashion. Truth be told, this probably had a lot to do with the fact that until she hit puberty, she was wearing her Brother's hand-me-downs. It really wasn't until she was a teenager that she began to develop a sense of personal style and ever since, that style seems to fall somewhere between urban vintage and rocker. While she favors denim, leather and the myriad of shades and tones of black and gray, never let it be said that Fallon cannot turn up the style when she wants to. She's comfortable wearing make-up and donning a pretty frock. Necessity has often forced her to mold to a number different looks and so she can pull off glamorous heiress as flawlessly as she can spunky street urchin.

Echoing back to that black cat reference, for truly it is as accurate of a description as there can be, Fallon's figure is lean, lithe and loaded. She walks with an elegance that deceives those around her and convinces them that she is neither a threat nor a bother. Fallon has and will always use this to her advantage. Appearing unassuming serves her well. Nobody ever suspects the tiny little girl with the leprechaun accent to be carrying a concealed weapon and know how to use it with startling and deadly precision.





Personality: Self-diagnosed as Adorably Sociopathic and Mildly Autistic, Fallon is an odd little duck who has developed a unique way of interacting with her environment. Seemingly free from the binds of social conformity, she spent her formative years building her own moral code which admittedly, differs from the norm but it works for her.

As a child, she was spirited and stubborn. Though her Mother had successfully raised Five Boys before Fallon and Finnick came along, her only girl was certainly her greatest challenge and biggest source of pride. As the years wore on though, Fallon mellowed. By early adolescence, she was a fully participating member of the Delaney Clan and her bombastic nature began to soften to something more sarcastic and subtle.

Seductively flirty, Fallon is friendly with everyone while simultaneously holding people at arm's length. It never used to be this way. There was a time when Fallon was warm and welcoming to anyone wearing a sweet smile or a devious little smirk. After losing Finnick however, Fallon grew weary about who she allowed close enough to see the cracks and there are so many cracks.

Though appearing cocky and confident on the outside, Fallon is a deeply unsure person within. She's lost a lot. Of course the same could be said for anyone left to see what the world has become but Fallon takes her losses personally and wears the heavy burden of the guilt and pain upon her slender, pale shoulders. It's why she drinks. Fallon will do almost anything to mask her hurt and sadness. While she will readily confront her enemies and those who dare to threaten her, when it comes to her own demons, she will bury them beneath sex, sarcasm and whiskey until they are but a shadow of their former selves.

Truly, Fallon is quite content to live her life alone. She is certainly capable enough. Fallon is wickedly clever, having picked up several skills in her lifetime. Some she uses daily, while others are simply party tricks. Her ability to speak multiple languages often comes in handy, while she has little chance to tango these days. Mostly Fallon uses her extensive knowledge of weapons and ballistics to both prove her worth and keep her clock ever ticking onwards. Let it never be said that Fallon has not done some truly horrible things, many of which, even today, she is hunted for but Fallon has also tried to balance the ledger with good.

Beneath the smirk and the sass, Fallon has a heart. She's loved once, it's possible that she's capable of it again but whether she is willing or not is another story. Fallon in both empathetic and impartial in equal measure. She walks through life and weighs her choices. Admittedly, most of the time, the scales fall favourably in her direction but occasionally, she thinks of others. This seems to mostly happen when the one on her mind is incapable of saving themselves. You see the lesson that Fallon learned long ago is that sometimes, you have to be your own White Knight. Sometimes that means running, sometimes it means fighting and sometimes, it means doing what others won't. The right thing isn't always easy and the good thing isn't always right but doing nothing is never anything but wrong.





Occupation: Officially, Fallon might describe herself as an Entrepreneur. Unofficially, well she's had a number of 'Jobs' in her life. Those in her line of work might call her an Expediter, a Procurement Specialist and a Ballistic and Chemical Expert. Truly those are all just fancy words for an Arms Dealer and a Bomb Maker. Fallon is a criminal but she may take offense to the word. She would like to think that she simply operates outside of the norm but at least Four Government Agencies around the globe would strongly disagree. Fallon is on at least Eleven watch lists that she's aware of and she allegedly has ties to the Irish Republican Army and Interpol. Currently, she's working with The League but there are those who will always question her loyalties.

League Member or Recruit? Member

How many years with The League: 4

Occupation on the Campbell Compound: It's no secret that when it comes to getting her hands dirty, Fallon has no fear. She is often the one to dispose of the odd feral that makes it through their walls. While she arrived at the Compound with an impressive armoury, she has also spent the last four years growing her collection so that The Leauge might be prepared for whatever comes their way. She arms Members for missions, fortifies the grounds with hidden explosives and is often tasked with solo runs into the cities at Theodore's request to bring back the unfindable. Fallon is also a dedicated alcoholic which is as much an occupation as anything else she's done with her life.





History: Fallon Delaney is a fighter. From the moment she fought her twin Brother Finnick for first place out of the womb, she's been battling her Family and the world as a whole. Some might naturally assume that she's an angry little shite with an ax to grind but that's not the case. Fighting is as much communication in her Family as talking. The truth is that the Delaney's have always been scrappers. Whether or not the Family ever held legitimate jobs is debatable. Her Father has always said that there's a difference between livin' and livin' free. All Fallon knows is that she was born into a world of crime and as she grew, ducking cops and keeping secrets became a natural part of her life.

Though it was infuriating for the young girl to be labelled the baby of the Family, as she was technically born Fourteen minutes before her Brother Finnick, as the only girl in a Family of Seven, she understood it. From birth, Fallon was adored by both her Parents and all five of her older Brothers. She and her twin Finnick were naturally inseparable but the differences between them were evident from an early age. While Fallon would scream her tiny lungs out when she wanted or needed something, Finnick was the silent sweetheart. When Fallon refused to sleep, the only thing that seemed to soothe her was her twin Brother. The pattern was set from an early age. Fallon Delaney was to be loved and protected.

More than likley, this level of sheltering is one of the main reasons why Fallon fought so hard to be taken seriously. Desperate to earn her place among her Brothers, Fallon threw herself into situations that were both stupid and dangerous. She was neither old enough nor wise enough to handle a weapon and yet nobody could stop her from getting her twitchy little fingers around a knife when she was only Six. By the time she was Eight, Fallon could hit a target with the precision of a marksman three times her age. By Fourteen, Fallon had proved herself not only a capable member of the Delaney Clan but a valuable one too.

By the age of Sixteen, Fallon had made a name for herself in her small Irish town. Truth be told, her reputation was not altogether nice. Teachers labeled her a troublemaker and girls had a tendency to call her a slut. The boys, for the most part, left her alone though this was undoubtedly due to the fact that they knew she had six brothers and a rather protective Father, all of whom wouldn't hesitate to dislocate the joints of anyone who hurt their little Irish Rose. Still, Fallon managed to have a good childhood. With Finnick by her side, the pair wrecked relatively innocent havoc upon their town and enjoyed every second of it. The Delaney's didn't have much. Crime truly didn't pay unless one was willing to do unforgivable things and that had never really been their style. They were happy though. They had each other. Fallon had never been happier.

Like the reverberating shock from a bullet, however, that happiness was shattered when Fallon was Nineteen. She remembers the day clearly when her twin Finnick was shot in the chest by a Gardaí. No legal action was ever taken against the Police Officer who gunned down her Brother. This was no doubt in part to the fact that despite being there when it happened, Fallon failed to make a positive ID. It was a calculated action to be sure because upon the Officer's release, pending an internal investigation, Fallon shot him in the head, leaving his body bleeding upon his stoop.

The loss of Finnick was an inescapable pain that Fallon tried desperately to numb. While some would mourn a death quietly, Fallon's pain was raw, angry and loud. It wasn't long before those explosive bursts of sorrow and loss caught the attention of a group of individuals who wrongly assumed that she shared their rage at the Government. While Fallon was angry at those in power and she would always have an issue with Authority, the truth was, she had sated her need for revenge. At the age of 20, Fallon joined The Irish Republican Army not because she shared their beliefs but because she desperately sought a distraction from her pain.

It was over the next few years with the Paramilitary/Terrorist Organization known as the IRA, that Fallon honed her skills. Under their tutelage, she furthered her Education regarding weapons, espionage and all manner of hand to hand combat technics. Truly though, it was here were her talent for bomb-making flourished. Whether it was a small concealed explosive meant to disable a vehicle or frighten an enemy or a large device built to bring down a building, Fallon could do it. TNT, Ammonium Nitrate, Semtex, Chlorine Trifluoride, ANFO she was skilled with it all.

While it could be said that Fallon's morals were a good deal higher than those of the IRA, her actions with the group were certainly questionable. A constant supply of liquor and meaningless hookups seemed to dull the little voices in her head however but Fallon would admit to her early 20's as being some of her darkest days. Without Finnick, without her Family, consumed by rage and sorrow, she was the saddest person she knew.





Whether it hurt or helped her state of mind, that she continued to communicate with her Brother, even after he was gone, who could say? It was Finnick's voice or what Fallon imagined he might say, that brought her to the point in her life when she parted ways with the IRA. Their next target was a big one and the number of estimated casualties was far too high to swallow without gagging on the immorality of it all. The cause no longer justified the means and as Fallon looked over the details of the job and what it was she was being asked to do, she found her anger simmering and the bitter taste of bile fading in the back of her throat.

Knowing what she needed to do, Fallon sabotaged the bomb she had been building, destroyed the IRA facility and fled the country she called Home. Predictably so, some very dangerous, very angry people want revenge but so far, Fallon has managed to stay one step ahead of those she betrayed. The same can not be said for the Family she left behind however. Word reached Fallon Eight Months later that her childhood home, her parents and all five of her remaining brothers had been killed in a bomb blast and there was no question in her mind, who had been responsible. She was safe but her Family had paid the price for her mistakes. The IRA was still searching for her but Fallon managed to outrun them.

This is due in part to the fact that she is exceptionally good at surviving, no matter the situation. Freelancing, Fallon turned to Arms Dealing and the occasional job to pay the bills. She won't deny however that appearing on Interpol's radar and eventually taking refuge beneath their impressive umbrella of protection, helped keep her alive, if only so that she might see the world end.

It seemed fitting that before things turned to shite, Fallon would claim to having been happy. While the Agent the International Organization sent out to recruit the young Bomb Maker was put through the wringer by the Irish beauty, he eventually managed to win her over. Apparently soliciting the assistance of criminals was not a new thing for Interpol. A little threat goes a long way of course and when given the choice of going to Prison or becoming an Informant, Fallon chose the latter.

For five years she worked closely with the London branch of Interpol and even closer with the Man who brought her in. Nobody truly cared that she was sleeping with her Handler. Together, with the backing of the mammoth international police force, they brought down Terrorist organizations, broke up trafficking rings and thwarted school bombing plots. No doubt they were grateful for the skilled help but also relieved to have the dark little Lady on their side. It was during this time that Fallon received the Codename Clover.

As the front line of international crime and global chaos, Interpol began collecting reports of the outbreak before the rest of the world. While the world had always been a little mad, Fallon's life speaking to the validity of this well enough, nobody had expected to see the levels of fuckery that revealed themselves in those dark days. You really couldn't deny the reports of rampaging Zombies and Supers unearthing unfathomable abilities when you saw them play out on a wall of screens to an audience of gaped mouth Army Generals and Politicians. They were fucked.

Though her inner little voice tried to convince her to run, knowing that as much good as she had done in recent years, she was still a selfish little sociopath, loyal to no one more than herself, Finnick told her to say. Her Twin Brother always had been the best of her. Even in death, he was her voice of reason. Truthfully though, should she have allowed herself a moment within the chaos to analyze her motives, Fallon had fallen in love.

To this day, she still believes that it was her mistake of loving Quinton Collins that sealed his fate. Of course, logically she understands that his profession within Interpol was dangerous and that given that they had both chosen to stand upon the front lines at what felt like the end of the world, his odds of survival were low. I mean 70% of humanity is dead or rotting. The options were slim. Either you died, you turned or rarer and scarier still, you mutated.

The latter was what happened to Fallon. It's hard to pinpoint exactly where or when it was that she was exposed to the virus but she began showing symptoms not a week before she had been forced to put a bullet in her Lover at his behest. He too had been infected but there would be no mutation or unique abilities for him. No, Q was destined to join the eroding masses, wandering the empty streets, ever hungry, never stopping. It was not a life he wanted and so on the floor of an abandoned recycling plant, he told Fallon about his Brother and his cause, he kissed her roughly and then he pulled her shaking gun to his temple and told her to pull the trigger.

Years later, Fallon migrated from London to the American Region. Her abilities were no longer nondescript symptoms but full-blown powers and it was clear, as clever as she was, as capable as she had grown to be, she couldn't do this on her own. She needed to find Theodore Collins and see for herself if there really were others like her. Though the Brothers had been estranged at the time of Quinton's death, he had assured Fallon that Theodore could be trusted. So maybe they could help eachother. Fallon had skills, an armoury of toys and an appetite for revenge. It wasn't the worst idea in the world to team up.