Angelina Jackman was born, fittingly, on July 4, 1983, in good old New York. As a child she was always a bit of a hothead, getting into trouble, picking fights, and once she got a little older, skipping school. She was an only child, from an upper middle class family, so her parents tried to get her help. She spent a good chunk of time sitting in psychiatrist's offices, and was prescribed different medications, though most of the time she didn't take them. She liked being a little wild.
When she was fifteen she left. It was easy for a kid to hide on the streets of the Big Apple, and she'd been making friends with the Wrong Sort for several years by then. She survived, though not always easily. Picking pockets was easy enough, especially for a pretty girl like her, and it helped. And when things got really bad? Well, shacking up with a guy for a few weeks wasn't the worst thing in the world. Once or twice she even fought for money. She got arrested a few times, and even spent a year in jail for her pickpocketing ways, but most often she was able to avoid the cops. Her parents looked for her for a short while, but by that point she had already given her parents a tough time, and her running away wasn't wholly unexpected. Though if they had looked a little longer, just until her time in jail, they very well might have found her.
Life was not all fun and games for her, however. A girl alone on the streets was a prime target for a great many people in the city. She was a victim of violence on several occasions, and one beating nearly killed her. Others tried to use her to make money for themselves, by way of forcing her to steal, or pimping her out. Some simply used her for their own amusement. It wasn't a pretty point in her life, but she did survive, and while the softer part of her all but died, the stronger part only grew stronger. And more brittle.
However, things changed for her when the bomb blew. Her parents moved away, to get away from the whole mess, leaving her truly alone in the city. But in a way it was easier for her to survive, with the chaos that followed, but that chaos also made things more difficult for a street rat like herself. Not that she'd admit it of course. But it was shortly after when things got REALLY strange for her. Irritated and starving, there was a small explosion in an abandoned factory. She was the only one there, and there was nothing that should've blown. It freaked her out of course, as did the other explosions, in varying size, that followed. Eventually the common denominator clicked in her head, and she started working at controlling her power. And her temper, as the two seemed linked to an extent.
She hid, afraid of how others would view her, a little frightened of herself at first. But when she discovered that there were others, so many others, she relaxed. The next few years were spent readjusting, surviving, learning herself. But now she's got a handle on things, or so she thinks, and she's ready to meet the rest of the world. Or at least the other Evolved?