[Rainbow]

JIYEON JEON

Full Name: Jiyeon Jeon
Nicknames: None
Age: 30
Gender: Cis female
Birthplace: Busan, South Korea
Orientation: Bisexual
Status: Single
Power: Health Manipulation ("healing")
Occupation: Infirmary Nurse
Play-By Bae Joohyun
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 120 lbs

Personality: A far cry from the happy, curious child that she used to be, Jiyeon is an extremely jaded person who could never bring herself to fully trust anybody, always prepared for the rug to be pulled out from under her at any given moment. Though incredibly intelligent, there's very little that actually interests her. What she lacks in ambition and motivation, she more than makes up for in sheer stubbornness when it comes to just about anything, no matter how trivial. With many of her own choices and passions taken away from her as a kid, Jiyeon now feels the need to overcompensate in the form of virtually never compromising for anybody. Beyond that, she simply doesn't want to seem weak or like a pushover ever again, even at the expense of her relationships with other people. She'll ruin anything she has to if it means she doesn't have to feel what she felt when she was a kid.

Underneath her abrasive exterior, there is some compassion. Sure, she doesn't know how to comfort people with her lack of tact at the best of times and might be prone to believing someone else is overreacting, but she isn't a sadist who likes seeing people hurt all the time. While she has an impressive ability to make any situation worse just by opening her mouth, Jiyeon wouldn't think twice about sitting in silence with a friend to ensure they aren't alone for as long as she needs to be around. Blunt to a fault though, it's more likely for her to make things worse long before she can ever make anything better.

After living a life full of seclusion with no affection, it's a wonder that Jiyeon still craves company and touch despite what she vehemently denies. She scares people off so she can feel more in control of her self-imposed loneliness rather than having to sit around and wonder why she's alone. If nobody enjoys your company, you don't have to sit and wonder what if. Jiyeon needs to feel at least sort of in control of a situation, which is why she'll push back so much if a conversation gets too personal for her. Despite this, having the little authority she has as a staff member at Infinity still feels bizarre to her, considering how many students there are that aren't that much younger than her. She's just glad she isn't there as a teacher or officer.

History:
(tw: animal death)
The kindest thing her parents ever did for her was let her grow up alongside a kitten - her beloved cat, Bam. A little black cat. For an only child of extremely busy and absent, it took the edge off of the loneliness she might have otherwise felt. Her parents might have worked over every holiday they possibly could, every birthday, every first, but at least Jiyeon could rely on Bam — and the woman hired to watch her until she was old enough to be trusted by herself. Wherever she was, Bam was. They were best friends, and Bam alone sparked an early interest in animals. Instead of taking to the business practices of her father or the surgical aptitude of her mother which they had hoped for, Jiyeon stayed in her room with stacks of books on animals.

Initially, they were stories. Books full of fantastical dogs saving their owners, self-sufficient fictional cats, anything she could get her hands on. As she grew older, gradually her books evolved into more scientific, biologically accurate reading — and she had Bam to speak to, to ask incredulously if her little companion knew about half the stuff she was reading. However, learning a cat's anatomy wasn't going to net her a comfortable future and her parents knew it. They had allowed the delusion to go on too long and when Jiyeon came home from school to her room cleaned entirely of her passion for animals save for her beloved Bam sitting on her desk, she was rightfully upset. She can still remember how her father had let her know in no uncertain terms that she was being ridiculous. Maybe she was. She should be grateful for having parents that gave her everything she could ever need, on paper. A deal was struck — Jiyeon could have her things back, could even keep Bam, as long as she decided to either work for her father once she graduated or aimed to get into a medical school program.

The books never came back. Jiyeon learned that people do nothing but let you down, and that was a reality she was going to have to live with. Her parents were never around. What right did they have to take the things she loved away from her? Before she had even graduated high school, the few friends she had were taken from her too — her mother had a job offer, a promotion essentially, in the US, and the only thing better than money was more money. They didn't hesitate to uproot everything and move, maintaining their home in Busan while also buying a home in Maryland. They were set. Their daughter was set, even if they'd have to go through the hassle of moving an animal to another country instead of leaving her with a family member.

Jiyeon played her part. She worked towards achieving grades good enough for medical schools to look twice at her. She was going to have to go to university for three years before the schools her mother praised highly would even consider looking once at her, but she was compliant while counting down the days until she could move out on her own. It would feel the same as living with her parents would, she figured — she'd be alone all day with only Bam, but that was enough for her. More than enough. Ignoring their insisting that they were happy to house her so she could spend more time on her studies, Jiyeon moved into the first pet-friendly apartment she could find with rent that didn't demand a roommate of her. It was small, but who was she really going to invite over anyway?

As she aged though, so did Bam. They were both eighteen, and Jiyeon knew she was lucky to have had her for so long. Wanting to ensure she had the best of the best and that she could prevent anything sinister before it was too late, the vet appointments started happening with shorter time in between, but there was nothing ever wrong with her cat. An older cat had never seemed so young, they had insisted. Bam only ever seemed tired after Jiyeon had been out all day. On one particular day, her cat had hardly been able to move by the time she got home, and in a rush Jiyeon had gathered her up in her arms and brought her to her vet. By the time they were able to be seen, Bam was purring and playing with the vet's fingers. She had no problem running across the counter. Jiyeon's sudden exhaustion was nothing in the face of Bam being okay.

Eighteen turned to twenty-one. Jiyeon was finishing up her pre-med courses with little actual interest in what she was learning, and Bam was the only constant outside of her parents breathing down her neck, anxious for her success to ensure they could brag about their daughter instead of pretending she didn't exist. Day in and day out, Jiyeon found herself tired without doing anything. She could stay in, relax, do whatever she liked — and then sleep twelve hours as if she'd had the busiest day of her life. Was it depression? It didn't make sense.

At twenty-two, Jiyeon couldn't ignore the exhaustion in Bam's eyes each time her cat stretched out across her chest. There was nothing physically wrong with her. She was just a cat who had lived an amazingly long time, who clearly loved her owner as much as Jiyeon loved her. Or she hoped she did. Was she sticking around for her? Jiyeon spent more and more time at home, with her groceries delivered and any amount of time between getting things ready to apply to medical school spent at home with Bam.

That was when the letters started coming in. Some school for gifted people, clearly addressed to her, yet it had to be a mistake. Outside of her family's money, there was nothing out of the ordinary about her — and so she ignored them as they came, with no interest in attending a school that wouldn't benefit her the most. Yet the idea of being mistaken for gifted stayed at the back of her mind, wondering what she could have done to give off that impression. The only thing she even felt particularly good at was taking care of Bam.

It took longer than it should have for it to click. She was keeping Bam alive. It wasn't on purpose, but Jiyeon selfishly knew that even if she'd had the knowledge prior, maybe she'd have still done things the same. Bam was exhausted; full of love and affection for her, but exhausted. And so was Jiyeon.

It was time to let Bam go. It happened with her cat cradled against her chest, in her arms, with whispered words that she was sorry, that it was okay if Bam had to go, that she'd been the best cat Jiyeon could have ever asked for. The best companion. They were twenty-four, and so went the only sincere, selfless love that Jiyeon had ever known. She was devastated.

Her parents were thrilled. She could start living her life instead of shutting herself indoors all day. Jiyeon worked on autopilot, knowing the last living being that had never and could never let her down was gone. All she had was herself. All people do is let you down, she would remind herself as she got into the school she'd been aiming for. She was accepted with open arms. And she'd remind herself again with each person who tried to get close to her, friend or otherwise. She didn't need these people. The handful of people she hurt along the way didn't matter — they were being ridiculous.

She was just like her parents.

Three years into medical school, Jiyeon dropped out. It was sudden, and her parents were livid. They accused her of toying with them, of throwing her life away. Didn't she want to never have to worry about money again? Didn't she want prestige? What kind of idiot was she to ruin it all when they'd already proudly declared her a future doctor? Jiyeon never had an answer for them. Maybe it was that she didn't care. Some people were cut out to take care of people, others weren't. She just wasn't.

Another letter came. It wasn't an invitation to attend the school, but rather... a job offer. For the type of job Jiyeon had actively tried to dodge. Her power, which Jiyeon still struggled to wrap her head around, made her uniquely qualified to take care of battered and bruised students, she supposed. The only thing that enticed her was the remoteness of it, of the ability to be able to entirely separate herself from her parents. There was nothing keeping her in one place anymore — in her little wooden box with her name engraved on a plaque on the front of it, Jiyeon could simply take Bam anywhere with her now.

And so she did. She was a de facto nurse, for all intents and purposes. While her power is common knowledge, so is her inability to really heal people beyond anything extremely surface level. Human anatomy just never caught on with her in the same way that animal anatomy did. At least she has the practical skills to be able to stitch people up.

Power: Health Manipulation. Healing with limitations. The better Jiyeon knows the anatomy of what or who she's trying to heal, the more effective she is and the less likely she is to fuck it up tremendously. For that reason and because of her high interest in animals and very low interest in people, Jiyeon's knowledge has so far limited her to impressive healing feats only on various animals, while she can manage a little heal for a bruise or cut or maybe even a bigger laceration. Healing in any form can take a lot out of her depending on the size and severity of what she's trying to heal. While she knows she has the room to grow and improve upon her power to more fully encompass people, Jiyeon refuses and shoots down any attempts to encourage her otherwise.