Peyton Huff
Peyton Huff
Age 24
Gene Status Advanced
Profession Law student
Affiliation None
Ability Pyrokinesis
Played By Emma Stone


  • What are these hash marks on my neck?

Character Information

Yeah, my hair's red. Yeah, I'm a law student. Yeah, I also have a habit of lighting stuff on fire when I get pissed off. Big deal, so what, wanna fight about it? Long story short is, this is who I am. I'm a hothead. Have been since I was born. Both parents would tell you the same damn story. Either get over it, or get the hell out of here.

Since we're all in a big damn rush around here though - you know, my time is very valuable - I'll start by giving you the basics. My name's Peyton Huff. Hardy har har, pretty funny for a girl who's pretty effing literally a pyro, right? Har har, I'll huff and puff and blow you out. Yeah, a laugh riot. Like most children, I was born. In 1987. I have two parents and one younger sister who's sometimes a real little bitch. We all lived together in a nice little ranch-style home in Henderson. It was all real cushy and normal. I didn't cut school or deal drugs, slut it up or anything like that. I had birthday parties and played with dolls and went to school and graduated high school and all that fun stuff.

There's some not so fun stuff, though. Remember in the 1990s when bullying wasn't this holier-than-thou campaign in schools, and was just something to happen to kids? Yeah, I was that kid. Goofy orange hair doesn't go over so well in grade school, let me tell you. But if I got pushed, I punched back; I didn't start it, but I sure as shit wasn't going to take it. Oh yeah, my school principals and I got to be real good friends. And because it bears repeating, let me say eff your permanent record. That's just BS they tell you to keep you from standing up for yourself. Looking back, maybe this was part of my problem, or hell, was a genetic predisposition.

I also burned down our house. Just once. But really, can you blame me? I remember wanting a party or a pony or something which, looking back, was probably really damn stupid. And my parents, acting like parents and having a backbone and not caving in, said no. And me, being a weepy, pouty girl went to my room and slammed the door and started to simmer. And simmer. And then my bed's on fire. And my hands are on fire. But I'm not getting burned. So then I'm screaming and everything's on fire, and then…shit, I don't remember. I woke up in the hospital with my hands bandaged and called a miracle because I was found wandering on the other side of the yard from the rest of the family with no burns. Nobody seems to recall how two little hash marks got put on the back of my neck; they said I was lucky to only have those marks after that inferno.

But insurance eventually pays up and then comes college a lot of normal years later. It kinda sucks the big one when you start showing up for classes that you're paying for, and you don't know exactly why you're there. But then you realize that the local university has a pretty damn good law school. Combine that with the fact that CSI - the original - was born there in Sin City and knocks off UNLV students at an alarming rate and…well, you start to think about law and crime and all that other shit. I mean, sure, you think 'why the hell does it keep getting renewed' but it doesn't matter now; I already got accepted and started there in the law school. So yeah, that's kind of where I'm at now. I got an apartment a little closer to campus so I don't have to drive or put up with my family, but my last roommate couldn't stand my personality or something.

In addition to school - sometimes morning classes, but a lot of afternoon and evening ones - I've got this dinky little job at a second-hand bookstore. Yeah, see, I went to undergrad and got this degree in English. Sue me, I like reading…but I hate literature. Weird, right? Guess that's why I went into law. But this shop is full to bursting with books I've never read before and I get to sit on my ass a few hours a day, make a few bucks, and read until some old person shuffles in and noses around in the dollar bin.

The icing on the crapfest cake that I have to call a life, unfortunately, is this little teeny habit I have of, you know, lighting shit on fire. I'm not talking a match and gasoline fire, either; I'm talking like, I get really pissed off, and shit burns. You ever played Mario? And you get those flowers with pyromaniac smiles, a new set of overalls, and the ability to belch fire? Yeah, that's kind of like me. It's like a teapot or something. I can feel it way down in my gut, Hulk-style. Anger rising, face probably getting redder, and then whooooosh! It's only like a few times in my life, but yeah…people don't seem to like me much after that.

Like I said. I'm a hothead. I mean it.


Date Title Who
04/05/2012 Rough and Ready Cody, Jake, Oz, Peyton, Shane, Thea and Zan
04/17/2012 On Names Peyton and Decosta


  • Pendulum - "Propane Nightmares"

in a trail of fire I know we will be free again
in the end we will be one
in a trail of fire I'll burn before you bury me
set your sights for the sun


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