Fantasy CS - The Family That Hunts Together

[taliaangeni]

Realistic Photos Only!
BASICS
Character full name:
Nick name or alias:
Age:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Race: (All are human right now.)
Height:
Weight:
Face Claim:

PERSONALITY:
+ 3 Strengths
- 3 Weaknesses
+ 3 Likes
- 3 Dislikes
Fears

FRIENDS AND FAMILY:

HISTORY:

EXTRA INFORMATION:

THEME SONG:

WRITING SAMPLE:

 

[Noivian]

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name
age
gender
sexuality
race
height
weight
face claim​

Nova Finnegan
27
female
pansexual
human
5'4"
120 lbs.
kaya scodelario​

[/div][/div] [div class="header personalityheader"]Personality[/div] [div class="textbox personalitybox"][div class="scroll"]Strengths:

+ Loyal
+ Honest
+ Objective-oriented​

3 Weaknesses

- Socially oblivious
- Spontaneous
- Headstrong​

3 Likes

+ Chocolate and hot coffee, but not together
+ Reading
+ Hunting​

3 Dislikes

- Hunting in the rain or snow
- Vegetables
- Country music​

Fears

Trypophobia
Dismemberment​

[/div][/div] [div class="header likesdislikesheader"]Relations[/div] [div class="textbox likesdislikesbox" style=line-height:25px][div class="scroll"]

name
name
name
name
name
name
name​

pos/neg
pos/neg
pos/neg
pos/neg
pos/neg
pos/neg
pos/neg​

name
relation
met
last seen
mood
opinion
other​

pos/neg
bro/sis/etc
day
day
emotion
adjective
sta​

name
relation
met
last seen
mood
opinion
status​

pos/neg
bro/sis/etc
day
day
emotion
adjective
alive/dead​

name
relation
met
last seen
mood
opinion
status​

pos/neg
bro/sis/etc
day
day
emotion
adjective
alive/dead​

[/div][/div] [div class="header historyheader"]History[/div] [div class="textbox historybox"][div class="scroll" style=height:94%;]Nova was born to two loving middle class parents, and should have had a normal life. That was, until a vampire landed in their back yard. Nova had only been five at the time, and her mother held her while her father went out into the back yard to investigate the strange sounds. Their house bordered the woods in the back, and it wasn't uncommon for bears to wander in. Shotgun in hand, her father stepped outside to fire a warning shot and scare the bear away. Only it wasn't a bear. There on grass was a man, bent over the body of another man, draining him of blood via two puncture wounds on his neck. Nova's father fired the shotgun, but the vampire hardly seemed phased, standing from its finished meal and pouncing on Nova's father. She watched it all go down, since her window gives a clear view of the back yard, until her mother pulled her from the sight.

At first, they seemed helpless, sitting ducks with a den of vampires in the woods outside their house. Mother and daughter were too scared to leave even to shop for groceries, let alone play outside. The funeral for her father was held, the bite wound masked over with makeup. On the way back, though, Nova was taken from her mother by the leader of the vampire den, intent on turning her. With no one to turn to, Nova's mother decided to take matters into her own hands, laying traps and planning out carefully her strategy. With the help of a few passing hunters, Nova was saved from the vampires before she could be turned. They stuck around a few more weeks, training Nova's mother so that she could protect what remained of her family.

Thus became the life that Nova grew up with, a life of paranoia and constant prep, for her mother knew that vampires were only the tip of the ice burg. Ghosts, poltergeists, werewolves, maybe even demons and angels were out there, and it became her mother's job to prepare Nova for all of it. They sold their house, to go live on a ranch out in the middle of nowhere. They hoarded guns, made special weapons you couldn't buy on the market, and Nova's mother home schooled her daughter until she was eighteen. Now that they could defend themselves, it was time to help others. At the age of twenty, her mother passed during a particularly bad hunt. Nova sold all her remaining possessions except what she used to hunt, bought a VW bus, and took to the roads. [/div][/div] [div class="header galleryheader"]Writing Sample[/div] [div class="textbox gallerybox"][div class="scroll" style=height:94%;]It wasn't often Nova took a coffee break. She enjoyed the hot beverage, but she'd be damned if she went to Starbucks every day. Sure there was free wifi, and sure the coffee was cheap, but Nova simply didn't want to think of herself as 'basic'. She was the furthest from basic, but to the unsuspecting onlooker, that's exactly what she looked like. Well, probably not. She was wearing a pair of baggy jeans that were stained, by what Nova had long forgotten, a torn t-shirt, probably ripped up from werewolves, with a form-fitting tank under, and a nice pair of leather boots on her feet. At least she wasn't wearing Uggs and leggings with some flowery blouse, like the two women ordering frappuccinos at the counter right now...

She sipped her coffee and cream, returning her eyes from the twenty-something stranger's unnaturally round rear end, and down to the laptop on the table before her. It wasn't anything she should be worried about anyone looking over her shoulder about, just the local news. In the other tab, she had a Google Doc open, typing up notes to possible cases in a code she made herself exactly for these public occasions. One dead, two injured in freak warehouse fire... she sourced the case back twenty years, and surprise surprise, the same thing happened then, too. Probably a ghost of some sort, haunting an object or a body not laid to rest and instead buried in the foundation... ugh, that'd be a pain to dig up. Perhaps she should skip that one...

Closing the laptop lid, Nova leaned back in her chair, looking around the coffee shop. The two ladies from earlier, one of whom had the nice butt, were eyeing Nova suspiciously. The hunter grasped her coffee cup just a bit tighter, pretending to wipe something off the lid but really just loosening it a tad. It didn't matter who you are, as long as you were corporeal hot liquid thrown in your eyes was bound to hurt. The two women chatted back and forth in hushed whispers, before standing and leaving, frappe's in hand. Sighing in relief, Nova tilted her cup to drink from it, forgetting she had loosened the lid. She had dumped half the cup onto her chest by the time the pain registered and she put the cup down. "Son of a bitch!" she yelped in pain, jumping in surprise and rapidly attempting to dab away the hot coffee with nearby napkins. [/div][/div] [/div] [/div]

 

[taliaangeni]

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"I love being outside, I do a lot of hunting."

[/div]​

» BASIC INFORMATION
Name: Allison Miller
Nickname: Ally
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Race: Human
Height | Weight: 5'2" | 119 lbs
Face Claim: Zoe Kravitz

» PERSONALITY;
Strengths:

Keen eye
Adaptable
Resourceful​

Weaknesses:

Stubborn
Gets wrapped in work.
Overly cautious​

Likes:

Alcohol
The sound of heavy rain on a metal roof.
Mexican food. The real stuff.​

Dislikes:

People who don’t commit
High heels
Public bathrooms​

Fears:

Being killed by someone stupidly trying to help.
Cats​

» FRIENDS AND FAMILY;
Parents:

Cindy Miller
Terrance Miller - DEAD​

Siblings:

n/a​

Others:

n/a​

» BIOGRAPHY;
Born into the hunting lifestyle, Allison had a somewhat military upbringing. When other three year old's were learning their numbers and colors, Ally was learning how to hold a knife, how to hide. As she grew older her parents included her in hunts. At first as a lookout and eventually into a killer. Sometimes if her father felt the mission was too dangerous she'd sit out at a fellow hunters house "watching the young kids while the adults worked".

The betrayal of being left behind didn't last long as she grew into her teens. Her first job by herself came unexpectedly. Lane, her friend, had a younger sister and said sister was haunting him. The sister was trying to protect him but grew outrageously powerful when she thought he was being hurt. From history, Ally would just burn the bones or item affiliated with the ghost but a little talking a convincing calmed the girl ghost down enough to vanish - to wherever ghosts went.

At the cusp of adulthood, Allison was faced with something she'd never feared before. The death of her father. While out hunting a werewolf attacked him. The next day Cindy, her mother, and Ally found him lying in the middle of a worn path in the woods. He'd been scratched and bitten in multiple places. Cindy, ugly crying and in distress, sent Ally away so she could end her husbands life. It was something they had agreed to long ago. Since that day the two have been riding the roads, sleeping in uncomfortable motel rooms and trying to find Terrance's killers.


» EXTRA;
NA

» THEME SONG;
Big Sean - I Don't Fuck With You ft. E-40

[/div]

codedbycrucialstar​

 

[finbutt]

Placeholder
F - Mercury Simoun - Emma Breschi - Kill First, Ask Questions Never

Spoiler: most likely to fuck up and most fuck ups | finished

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[/div][/div] [div class=miniwords]a gem cannot be polished without friction [div class=miniwords2]nor a man perfected without trials[/div][/div][/div] [div class=tabcontainer][div class=tabs][div class="first" style="height:20px;font-size:18px;transition:1s"][div class=hoverwordi]posts[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=tabs][div class="second" style="height:20px;font-size:18px;transition:1s"][div class=hoverwordii]basics[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=tabs][div class="third" style="height:20px;font-size:18px;transition:1s"][div class=hoverwordiii]bullets[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=tabs][div class="fourth" style="height:20px;font-size:18px;transition:1s"][div class=hoverwordiiii]bonds[/div][/div][/div][/div] [div class=content][div class="tabsContent tabsContent1"] [div class=div style="overflow:hidden"][div class=overflow] [div class=posttitle][div class=postimg][/div] [div class=username]emtulius[/div] [div class=date]mar 16th[/div] [div class=post style="background-image:url(https://i.imgur.com/IJXYGxd.jpg);background-size:110%; background-position:center"] [div class=uppersquare][div class=lowersquare][/div][/div][/div] [div class=bottom][div class=quote]a perfectly good picture if [div class=username]@f4ult3[/div] and [div class=username]@qwertytrewq[/div] werent there[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=posttitle style="top:280px"][div class=postimg][/div] [div class=username]emtulius[/div] [div class=date]mar 16th[/div] [div class=post style="background-image:url(https://i.imgur.com/48NeTE4.jpg);background-size:135%;background-position:top"] [div class=uppersquare][div class=lowersquare][/div][/div][/div] [div class=bottom][div class=quote][div class=username]@notaj[/div] please get a better phone your camera sucks balls[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=posttitle style="top:555px"][div class=postimg][/div] [div class=username]emtulius[/div] [div class=date]mar 17th[/div] [div class=post style="background-image:url(https://i.imgur.com/SfR6UTp.jpg);background-size:cover"] [div class=uppersquare][div class=lowersquare][/div][/div][/div] [div class=bottom][div class=quote1]no one tell ma where i'm at please [/div][/div][/div][/div] [/div][/div] [div class=content][div class="tabsContent tabsContent2" style="display: none"] [div class=div] [div class=image][/div] [div class=smalldiv][div class=wordscontainer][div class=nameword]chickpea[/div]
the basics[/div] [div class=text][div class=overfloow] [div class=box]full name !![/div] cicero ochoa.

[div class=box]nickname !![/div] his family (and occassionally, his close friends) affectionately refer to him as chickpea and to a lesser frequency, sissy. to everyone else, he's either ocho or cero.

[div class=box]age !![/div] 22 years old.

[div class=box]gender !![/div] cis-male.

[div class=box]sexuality !![/div] heterosexual.

[div class=box]race !![/div] human.

[div class=box]height!![/div] 5'5".

[div class=box]weight !![/div] 146 lbs.

[div class=box]face claim !![/div] brandon perea.

[div class=box]clothing preference !![/div] if he had his way, cicero would always wear his favorite dark covert coat on top of some dress shirt and slacks. unfortunately, people notice when it seems like he's been wearing the same outfit for days (when, in actuality, he just has a lot of duplicates.) in general, cicero dresses in business casual or straight up formal, but he'll concede his preferences whenever he's on the hunt.

[/div][/div][/div][/div] [/div][/div] [div class=content][div class="tabsContent tabsContent3" style="display: none"] [div class=div] [div class=image style="background-image:url(https://i.imgur.com/FfUKWwx.jpg);background-size: cover; background-position: right; filter: grayscale(50%);"][/div] [div class=smalldiv][div class=wordscontainer][div class=nameword]chickpea[/div]
the bullets[/div] [div class=text][div class=overfloow] [div class=box]strengths !![/div]
• bold. fortune favours the bold, right? and cicero adheres to that by acting as bravely and boldly as needed. however, while his bravado has gotten him out of tough situations, this can easily snowball into pure recklessness at one point.
• easygoing. intensity doesn't really fit him. he's always more of the go-along-with-it kinda guy, so he lets bygones be bygones, he doesn't take things too hard, and he isn't too sensitive to criticism and dislike. however, there are times when he ends up following the flow too much that it, again, turns into impulsiveness and recklessness.
• inquisitive. how else would he have gotten so interested in the supernatural? anyone could have reasonably waved away his cryptid sighting as something born from his drunken stupor, but cicero lives for the truth.

[div class=box]weaknesses !![/div]
• adrenaline junkie. he's got a zeal for life and prefers to live grandly by seeking the next thrill. unfortunately, his thrill-seeking ways mean that he's predisposed towards unnecessary risks if his interest is piqued enough, because "yolo."
• absent-minded. he's often slower on the uptake.
• elitist. you know that kid in class that tells everyone about his trip to disneyland and loudly exclaims "you've never been? we go there every year!" when someone asks him about it. he's that kid. he usually doesn't do it intentionally. not really. but damn if it ain't annoying.

[div class=box]likes !![/div]
• stage magic.
• theater.
• warm coats.

[div class=box]dislikes !![/div]
• anywhere without wifi.
• hot weather.
• arguments.

[div class=box]fears !![/div]
• anywhere without wifi.
• slight acrophobia.
• unsanitary stuff (ie. he wouldn't touch the skin shed by a shapeshifter, not unless he had some gloves on)

[div class=box]history !![/div]
• he was always a go-your-own-way kind of guy, even when he was a kid. he rarely relied on his parents too much and generally preferred to tend to his interests alone. his mother was a little disappointed at not having the chance to spoil him rotten.
• he was particularly close to his sister, who he shared many hobbies with. she didn't get along with his mother, though, and she eventually left the family and went abroad. he was bummed out about that and closed in on himself further from his mother who, in turn, pushed harder to connect with him.
• he literally stumbled into the supernatural world. he was out with his friends at some party in the forest, completely hammered out of his mind. at one point, he decided to take a piss, and in the distance, he saw something hulking through the trees: a massive figure, with an ashen white face, sticks for hair, and tree bark for skin. a walking tree that was singing. sure, he was drunk, but not that drunk. this all led him to a small online forum for amateur hunters, wherein eventually, he joined up for their little association.
• both his mom and surprisingly, his sister, were devastated when he announced that he was going to drop out to become a hunter. his dad, on the other hand, was a little more tolerant, having already become used to his son's fickleness.

[div class=box]playlist !![/div] wip
• song by artist
• song by artist
• song by artist

[/div][/div][/div][/div][/div][/div] [div class=content][div class="tabsContent tabsContent4" style="display: none"] [div class=div] [div class=image style="background-image:url(https://i.imgur.com/azYOzNx.jpg);background-size: cover;background-position: center; filter: grayscale(50%);"][/div] [div class=smalldiv][div class=wordscontainer][div class=nameword]chickpea[/div]
the bonds[/div] [div class=text][div class=overfloow] [div class=box]his parents [/div] he gets along okay with his dad. they don't really spend much time together, but they're alright. his relationship with his mother isn't as peaceful. with her constant mothering and him dropping out from college for undisclosed reasons, their relationship has been strained and will likely come back to bite him down the road.

[div class=box]his sister, circe [/div] the two have always been close. although she's miles away, they still chat frequently. when he told her about his decision about his future through skype, she freaked and tried to talk him out of it. however, she eventually accepted his decision and let him do his thing.

[div class=box]finnegan, nova [/div] abc

[div class=box]miller, allison [/div] abc

[/div][/div][/div][/div] [/div][/div] [/div][/div] [class=credit]height: 25px; width:500px; margin: auto; position: relative; top: 10px; font-size: 9px; color: grey [/class] [div class=credit]code by @diaphanous[/div]

 

[spookie]

D A M I E N ✞ S Y K E S ​

✞ B A S I C S

full name // damien alexander sykes
nickname or alias // nightshade
age // twenty
gender // male
sexuality // uninterested
race // human
height // 6'0
weight // 125 lbs
faceclaim // andy black

✞ P E R S O N A L I T Y

+ strengths //
•independent
•sharp wit
•relentless ;
- weaknesses //
•cold/closed off
•untrusting ;
•lone wolf ;
+ likes //
•nighttime
•cinnamon
•rock music
- dislikes //
•crowds
•vulnerability
•blind optimism
fears //
•becoming weak or vulnerable
•getting attached to people
•dying slowly in a hospital

✞ F R I E N D S&F A M I L Y

mother // alexandria monroe - deceased
father // vivian sykes - deceased
brother // ronnie sykes - deceased
childhood friend // avril westing

✞ B I O G R A P H Y
WIP

✞ E X T R A S

n/a (for now?)

✞ T H E M E S O N G

suffer // get scared

code by spookie ​

 

[apolla]

[class=timagecontain]height: 190px; width: 200px; position: relative [/class] [class=timage]height: 190px; width: 200px; background-image: url(https://i0.wp.com/blogtify.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/Screen-Shot-2018-08-13-at-10.26.04-AM.png); background-size: cover; background-position: 20% 10%; [/class] [class=timage2]height: 100%; width: 100%; background-image: url(https://www.wellandgood.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/slack-imgs.com-3.jpeg); background-size: cover; background-position: 20% 10%; opacity: 0; transition: opacity 1.7s [/class] [class name=timage2 state=hover]opacity: 1 [/class] [class=timage3]height: 190px; width: 200px; background-image: url(https://celebrityxyz.com/i/i/m/a/d/madelaine-petsch-13.jpg); background-size: cover; background-position: 20% 10%; [/class] [class=timage4]height: 100%; width: 100%; background-image: url(https://cimg.tvgcdn.net/i/2017/03/20/9b6d7e0e-8019-4bc3-b829-34757c664612/68842434ca9857fee8aa1641f80c7be6/170320-news-riverdale-madelaine-petsch.jpg); background-size: cover; background-position: 20% 10%; opacity: 0; transition: opacity 1.7s [/class] [class name=timage4 state=hover]opacity: 1 [/class] [class=block] width: auto; padding: 0px 2px 0px 2px; font-size: 10px; display: inline-block; color: white; margin-top: 10px; [/class]

[div class=timagecontain] [div class=timage][div class=timage2]

WE WERE HERE®

Full moon howling, let's go prowling

x

[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Name:

Seraphina Harlow
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Nick name:

Sera
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Age: [/div] 22
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Gender:[/div] Female
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Sexuality:[/div] Bisexual
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Race:[/div] Human
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Height:[/div] 5'3
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Weight:[/div] 137lbs
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Face Claim:[/div] Madelaine Petsch[/div][/div]

[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Strengths

+ independent
+ intelligent
+ honest
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Weaknesses

- proud
- stubborn
- impulsive
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Likes[/div] music, fast cars, hunting, being first
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Dislikes[/div] losing, bees, hot tea, forgetting
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Fears[/div] losing her brother [/div][/div]

[div class=timagecontain] [div class=timage3][div class=timage4]

[/div][/div]

WE WERE HERE®

dressed up, messed up, put on a show

[/div]x

[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]history

Sera was born into the hunting life; she didn't choose it. There were times when she was young where she might throw a fit about having to train instead of being able to hang out with friends or do something "fun", but now that she looks back, she's grateful for her training and wouldn't have her life any other way. Born the youngest of four children, and the only female, she would always be the most protected. It's another thing she's grateful for, even if she won't admit it out loud.

Her father did most of her training, and he was the best damn hunter she ever knew. Their mother, well, Sera never knew her. She was killed by a vampire when Sera was just a baby, and her father never remarried. Always feeling as though she had something to prove as the only girl in a family of all boys, Sera turned out to be quite the handful. Going off by herself, taking on more than she could handle.

At sixteen, she got lucky when her three brothers followed her out one night. As the vampire overpowered her and nearly killed her, her brothers burst from the trees and fought him off. They killed him, but not before he wounded Sera, leaving a jagged scar down her entire back and claw marks on her neck that never quite healed right.

Things were quiet after that, for a few years at least. Tragedy struck when she turned nineteen, and vampires attacked her home. Her oldest two brothers and father were killed, leaving Sera and Hunter alone to fend for themselves. They managed to escape, mostly thanks to Hunter, and they left their home behind. They've been on their own ever since, taking care of one another.

[/div]

[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]theme song

[/div] [/div][/div][/div]

coded by nymphadora. ©

 

[Macintot]

Name: Benjamin "Benji" Rodriguez
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Demiromantic Asexual
Race: Human
Height: 5'10" Weight: 160 lbs
Faceclaim: Diego Boneta
***
Strengths

• Good Team Player
• Eager Learner
• Optimistic

Weaknesses

• Inexperienced
• Naive
• Disorganized

Likes

• Soccer
• Old cars
• Competition

Dislikes

• Liars
• Being Bored
• Pop music

Fears

• Being alone
• Loved ones being killed by monsters
• Not accomplishing anything with his life
• Spiders

***
Friends

• Xavier Jones (mentor)
• Felisha Jones (mentor)
• Skylar Jones (best friend)

Family

• Carlotta Rodriguez (mother)
• Miguel Rodriguez, Sr. (Father)
• Angelina "Angie" Cooper (older sister, 29)
• Scott Cooper (brother-in-law, 30)
• Daniel Rodriguez (Older brother, 26)
• Miguel Rodriguez, Jr. (Younger brother, 18)

***
History
Benji had a uneventful childhood. He grew up in an average suburban neighborhood, did well in school, and grew a close friendship with Skylar, the girl next door. He knew nothing of the monsters, in spite of living next door to a secret family of hunters. Skylar and her parents passed their hunting activities off as their "family archery club" - no, Benji couldn't come - and Benji took their word for it.

The ruse began to unravel when Benji was sixteen. A vampire hunt took a turn for the worse, and while nobody was killed or turned, Skylar ended up in the hospital. Benji stormed up to them, demanding to know what kind of archery accident resulted in five broken ribs and a concussion. Skylar's parents decided to let Benji in on the existence of monsters.

Benji immediately decided he wanted to become a hunter, both to help keep the monsters at bay and out of sheer interest. It took several weeks of asking, but Skylar's parents finally agreed to take him on as an apprentice. He's spent the past few years apprenticing under the Jones', learning the skills he needs to be a successful hunter. Upon graduating from the local community college, the Jones' declared his and Skylar's apprenticeships complete. They each struck out on their own, to finish their degrees and get some real experience as hunters.
***
Extras:Benji is currently pursuing a degree in folklore and mythology, believing it will help him better fight monsters.

Theme Song: Jumped Out the Whip - Tedashii

Writing Sample

Spoiler

I limp along the narrow shelf of rock, shaking from hunger and exertion, trying to ignore the pain in my right leg and the spots swimming in my vision. I'd known better than to hunt so far from my usual spot. Thanks to the avalanche, I've been lost for three weeks now. All I can hope is that I'll stumble upon some farm or other hunter.

Up ahead, carrion birds are circling. I start limping faster. Carrion birds mean meat. Maybe I cant steal something from whatever they're eating.

I pick my away around some boulders and stop short. The corpse of a dragon is lying against the cliff face, crushed under a pile of stone. Vultures swarm the body, picking at its scales and snatching meat off its exposed bones.

Eating a dragon is out of the question, but I cant help but stumble closer. Maybe I can catch one of the vultures and eat it. Anything to get rid of this pit in my stomach. Or, who knew, maybe the dragon had had something useful down with it.

The vultures hop out of my way faster than I can get to them. I charge them and fall over, struggling to get up as they hiss at me and take to the air. I'm about to give up when I notice several vultures ignoring me, swarming something near the dragon's forelegs. I struggle to my feet and sneak towards them.

As I get closer, I see can see the top of something round and smooth beyond the vultures, something definitely not part of the dragon. Something there gives a panicked squeal. Maybe some sort of injured rodent I could eat. Then the round thing moves, scaring the vulture away ling enough to give me a good look at it.

A egg sits nestled in the crook of the dragon's foreleg, a large chuck of the shell cracked off. The creature inside is covered in its own blood, but I can make out a snout and the nub of a horn. A baby dragon.

I run forward, shooing away the vultures that are beginning to swarm the egg again. They hiss at me and fly away, letting me get a closer look at the dragonling. Its face, neck, and its front leg are exposed, all covered in deep gouges from the vultures. Its eye on this side is already gond, and it's bleeding heavily. I take off my shirt, my last protection against the elements, and press it against the dragonling's face and neck to try and staunch the bleeding. I shouldn't be so worried about this dragon while I'm half-dead myself. But I can't help wanting to protect it. It's just a whelp, after all.

I'm two weak to stay standing, so I sink into a sitting position, still holding my shirt to the dragonling's wounds. The vultures try to come back to finish the job, but I shoo them away. I'm too weal to try and grab one now; all I can do is sit, hold, and keep the carrion birds away while the dragonling hatches.

It takes a while for the dragonling to recover from the shock of the attack, but eventually it resumes hatching. The eggs shakes now and again as the dragonling chips away at it. As the sun begins to cross the horizon it makes one last kick, and the egg breaks apart with a crack. The dragonling stands shakily to its feet and looks at me with its remaining eye. It squeaks at me. It takes a step forwards, then another, nearly tripping on its oversized wings. It climbs into my lap and leans its head against me, purring.

I stare at the dragonling for a while, until it closes its eyes and its breathing steadies. I manage to lift a hand and place it on its back. I can feel the dragonling's warmth even through the egg slime. I smile in spite of my hunger and pain. My eyes are getting heavy. I lean forward over the dragonling and drift to sleep.

I jolt awake to the ground shaking. A cloud of dust rushes over me. When it clears, I'm faced with a full-grown dragon staring me in the face.

"Who are you, human?" the dragon rumbles. "What happened here?"

I open my mouth to talk, I can't make out the words. I manage to croak "Vultures."

The dragons cocks it head to the side. "What?" Then he noticed the dragonling on my lap, looking up at him. "You-" he starts. He looks from me, back to the dragonling, then back to me. The dragon sighs.

"I suppose I'll have to keep both of you, then." Before I can react, the dragon reaches down and scoops us both up in its jaws. I expect us both to get eaten alive, but we don't. The dragon keeps us in its mouth. The world lurches and I hear the noise of wingbeats as the dragon takes to the air. The dragonling squeaks happily and curls up next to me. I smile again. If nothing else, maybe this dragon at least has some food.

 

[plexiglas]

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name
age
gender
sexuality
race
height
weight
theme song
face claim​

ophelia faye.
twenty-one.
female.
bisexual.
human.
5'7".
121 lbs.
fear on fire - ruelle.
daisy ridley.​

[/div][/div] [div class="header personalityheader"]Writing Sample[/div] [div class="textbox personalitybox"][div class="scroll"]The tension in the air was palpable, silence draping over the occupants in the room like an unwanted curtain. This was foreign to her - for as long as she remembered, silence had been absent from her life. There were always static noises, filling up the lifeless gaps that dominated her. Even now, when all she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts, the uncomfortable tapping of her own feet reminded her that solitude was a blessing, one bestowed upon those who were pure. She was born into the mafia, and in the mafia she would live out the rest of her cursed life, always on edge and paranoid about the guns aimed at her back. The harsh reality forced her to avert her eyes from the door, down onto the pitch black leather ground. Her father was gone now, leaving behind an orphan trapped in a pack of hungry wolves. Neither of them were blind to the fact that many, regardless of ranking in the mafia, were gunning for the coveted spot as boss. Her ancestry meant that she was heir to the throne, but it was not out of the question for the throne to be ripped away from her lifeless fingers mercilessly. It was both her father’s wish, and his test for her to hold on to the spot, putting the betrayers in place and ruling with an iron fist. Her mother had died before she could seek advice from her, and Ophelia hadn’t truly understood how alone she was until she tried to create a mental list of who she could trust, and no name came to mind. And yet there had to be someone, someone she could confide in, whom she could trust to safeguard her back from anyone unhappy with her rule. It had taken some time before she could conjure up a name, and even then there was a problem. The owner of that name had sought work elsewhere long before her father had passed, and Ophelia was no longer sure where his loyalties lay. They had been close, but that felt like an eternity ago, and Ophelia was unwilling to introduce a new competitor to the table. However, the inexplicable truth remained that he was the only person left she could place even a semblance of trust in, and the only thing left to do was to take the jump. Call him back, and request for his help in ensuring her safety. She hadn’t bothered informing her father’s second-in-command, knowing that Armando would be less-than-pleased to see his father again and pissing Armando off was of no benefit to her. Ophelia never did like the man, but her feelings towards him were inconsequential back when her father had been in charge. Montano did things quick, and he did things well, and that was all that mattered. But it didn’t mean Ophelia had to trust him. She tapped her fingers impatiently on the hollow table, waiting for Armando’s long-awaited appearance. It was a widely known fact among the mafia members to never keep the boss waiting, and frankly, Armando wasn’t late. She was just eager to meet the man, to add a chess piece into her limited collection. The sound of the door knocking signaled his arrival, and the bodyguard by the door opened it for her at her command, revealing the familiar face standing behind it. [/div][/div] [div class="header likesdislikesheader"]Personality[/div] [div class="textbox likesdislikesbox" style=line-height:25px][div class="scroll"]

Carl Fayes
Sheralyn Fayes​

father, neg
mother, neg​

likes
sweets
music
hunting​

dislikes
black coffee
emotional people
false accusations​

strengths
rational
intelligent
perceptive​

weaknesses
arrogant
judgmental
perfectionist​

fears
heights
butterflies
failure​

[/div][/div] [div class="header historyheader"]History[/div] [div class="textbox historybox"][div class="scroll" style=height:94%;]Born to hunter parents, Ophelia's childhood wasn't a pleasant one. Her parents were obsessed with training her to be the perfect hunter, their hatred for the supernatural creatures driving them to alienate her from the other kids, forcing her to focus only on training. The idea of playtime was foreign to her, and she grew up learning to throw punches and how to apply basic first aid - a childhood she wholeheartedly despised. his strained her relationship between her and her parents, and she drowned herself in training, striving to overtake her parents as a hunter. However, being a hunter was a dangerous line of work, and it wasn't long before Ophelia's parents met the same fate as many hunters attempting to wipe out an entire coven of witches. They underestimated how powerful the leader of the witches truly was, and thus paid with their lives. While Ophelia was never close with her parents, she mourned the fact that she was now an orphan. It wasn't surprising for her to seek revenge, heading to the very witches that murdered her parents. However, that same coven had left town on the day of the murders, and Ophelia's promise to her parents to find their killers led her to pack up and leave, hot on their tracks. [/div][/div] [/div] [/div]


code by Stellar Nursery

 

[StormWolf]

Spoiler: Connor "Strider" Creedmore

BASICS

Character full name: Connor Creedmore

Nick name or alias: Callsign: “Strider”, the White Medjay

Age: 35

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Race: Human; anglo-caucasian ethnicity

Height: 6’2”

Weight: 195 lbs

Face Claim: Charlie Hunnam

Spoiler: PERSONALITY

Strengths:

Army of One: Connor is the recipient of stringent, multiple, disciplines of occult, geurilla, clandestine, and military warfare. He is able to use most weapons conceived by man with alarming efficiency and lethality, and is known for improvising weapons out of available environs.


Iron Will: Connor is a man of focus, commitment, and sheer will. Where others buckle and break, he grits his teeth and endures. He was taught that pain is just weakness leaving the body, and those teachers sought to extract whatever weaknesses they could. Even then, the brightly burning core of his immense furnace of willpower is his daughter, Kelly Creedmore


Body of Wards: Beneath his clothing, Connor’s scarred skin is a tapestry of tattoos, warding against demons, detection, and other means of preternatural molestation. While he cannot protect himself from every threat under the sun and moon, he’s managed to minimized himself as a threat to others via possession, and allotted himself a buffer against certain black magics.

Weaknesses

Damaged: Beyond the physical and mental wear and tear of war and the Hunt, Connor is a survivor of a wraith attack that caused irreparable damage to his brain. He’s in a constant state of fight-or-flight, a condition known as “sympathetic storming” or Extreme Emotional Disturbance. Sleep is difficult to acquire, the peace he once had, and violently lost is a constant reminder, and violence comes all too easy.

Hateful Wrath: Vampires lead to the harshest crucible of Connor’s life, and the true test of is resolve. His partner, Kelly’s mother, was turned by a Vampire, and as a result for having to spare the woman he loved such a vile eternity, he takes an alarming, pseudo-sociopathic joy in the hunting of the vampire race.

True Love: There is nothing he wouldn’t do to keep Kelly safe. No line he wouldn’t cross, no thing he wouldn’t kill, no bond of fellowship he wouldn’t break.

Likes

Tools of the Trade

Personal Vices

Greasy diner food

Dislikes

Pickles

Electric Cars

Vampires, but that lends itself closer to hatred


Fears

Losing his mind

Losing his daughter

Primates

Spoiler: FRIENDS AND FAMILY

Cassandra Creedmore - Daughter - Alive (Faceclaim: Zendaya Coleman)

Sherman (like the tank) - Caucasian Ovcharka Hound

Owen Creedmore - Father - Alive - Estranged

Eleanor Creedmore - Mother - Alive - Estranged

Niobe el Afra - Wife - Deceased

Spoiler: HISTORY

Connor was raised in the secret world, born into it and moulded by it. His father, a cantankerous vietnam veteran, saw things that changed him when abroad. Meeting Eleanor, a hunter in her own right, solidified what he experienced as fact.

They lived in a frightfully insular community of Harlan County, Kentucky, maintaining a modest homestead on two acres of old family property. In the years after their union, Eleanor and Owen delved into what most considered “prepper lifestyle”; not altogether uncommon in that part of the US, but far more niched and unique in purpose than the leyman might think.


To say Connor’s upbringing was spartan is to fully appreciate the word; the ideal it embodies and the culture it evokes. When Connor wasn’t at school learning is multiplication tables, he was at home learning to make pipe bombs. Learning to wage what his parents called “the secret war”. He grew up with a gun in his hand, and through such training since the age of seven, on top of the training and expertise earned as a Delta Force Ranger, he’s become a monster in his own right. A force of reckoning in the preternatural world that has redoubled in recent years when he was forced to crawl out of his early retirement, bloody an angry as hell.


Given the violent nature of his home life, Connor had monstrous kills under his belt before he could grow a beard. By the age of 19, he’d signed himself up for the Army out of a sense of red-blooded patriotism, much at is father’s insistence. In a couple years, he’d garnered enough attention of the Delta Alpha Squadron. Yet, even in some sandbo abroad, he managed to find monsters, and they him. Steadily, he found others like him, forming their own ragtag band of occult-warfighters.


At the age of 24 in 2006, Connor and his Special Task Force Umbra (STFU) was assigned to Egypt and Libya to disrupt human trafficking backed by the Taliban, only to find that their trafficking didn’t necessarily end at “human”. Relics, rarities, arcane texts and most disturbingly, extra-normal entities. One in particular, one that changed the direction of Connor’s life, if only for a time, was the Oracle of Siwa.


The Oracle of Siwa is one of two positions of supernatural renown that has endured untold centuries, from the times before Alexander and Caesar, the Oracle of Siwa and the Oracle of Delphi have been reputed as some of the mightiest psychics in the world, their gift and title passed down from generation to generation. The Taliban sought to use the powers of the Oracle to further their efforts, something that Connor and his STFU simply couldn’t abide. Intercepted in the Mediterranean, the Oracle, Niobe el Afra, was escorted to Germany for holding by the STFU. Returning her to Siwa would unfortunately result in furthered attempts at abduction or assassination. So, as Hunters do, Connor and his team fabricated the appropriate documents for Niobe to achieve American citizenship. Originally functioning as her bodyguard, Connor traveled with Niobe to a disused family plot south of Austin, Texas. It had enough acreage to remain remote and was situated close enough to the Colorado river for emergency exits and the occasional joy ride via boat.


Yet, both being young and having endured so many hardships together, they found themselves shackled by attraction. One thing led to another, and then another. The results were an engagement between the two and a bright-eyed baby girl. Both lead to Connor losing most of the support of his family, only managing to hold onto his Texas property through the will and testament of his Uncle Benjamin, whom had been the Black Sheep of the family before. Perhaps it was a curse, but in a time when he suddenly had nothing to give his family, it was a blessing. With Niobe and Cassandra, Connor strived to make himself a better man, to live a better life, for the both of them. He gave up the life. Burying his guns and tools of the trade.


In hindsight, the folly and vanity of a lovestruck fool.


They knew this peace for nearly seven years, until a nest of ambitious vampires started to expand their reach; Karisiri from Peru pushing influence up through Mexico found themselves preying on isolated communities. Connor and Niobe fought like hell to protect their home and their little girl, leading to Niobe being bitten by one of the Karisiri and their home put to the torch.


After that bitterly cold November night, Connor briefly vanished off the grid for weeks. He buried his wife and dug up the life he had before. Ploughshares were hammered into spears, tempered by the ashes and embers of a peaceful life so briefly tasted. Karisiri populations in Peru and Bolivia plummeted in that time. Many knew why, but none said it.


Since then, Connor and Cassandra have been living the Hunter’s life anew. On the run, moving from place to place, case by case. He never wanted this for his daughter, not even for him, but here he was, staring down the barrel of a life he tried so hard to put behind him.

Spoiler: EXTRA INFORMATION

Like many other Hunters, Connor possesses an armory of alarming size and questionable legality. His 69’ Mustang Mach 1 has a false bottom to its trunk and back seat conceal an armory possessing everything from holdout knives to pistols and rifles ranging from .22LR to 700 nitro express, even a case of 40 millimeter grenades begging use. Even with so many options, he has is go-to armaments:


Primary Firearm

• Base: Knight Armory SR-16
• Barrel: 11.5 (SBR) - 14.5 (battle rifle), 1:7 twist; Geissele M-LOK rails
• Available Calibers: 5.56 (300 blk, 458 SOCOM, 50 Beowulf use 5.56 mags), 6.5 Grendel
• Trijicon Accupoint TR25 1-6x, canted deltapoint RMR, flip-up backup ironsights
• PEQ-15 IR laser
• Savvy Sniper QUAD X Cobra Dual QD Sling
• Magpul B.A.D. Lever
• Magpul MIAD Grip
• XMR extended Magazine release
• Six12 masterkey (optional)
• LaRue Tranquilo 5.56 brake/adaptor & Suppressor
• SAI AR bolt
• Griessele flat 2-stage trigger
• Surefire scout light

Shotgun Options

• Six12
• 12ga
• Trijicon reflex sights
• Proprietary 6-shot cylinder
• Double action trigger system
• Can be broken down to attach to AR platform rails as a masterkey

• Benelli M4 “Raven”
• 8 shot magazine tube
• Raven furniture
• Trijicon reflex sights

Sidearm

• FNX-45 Tactical
• .45 ACP
• Flared magwell
• 15 round magazines
• Rail mounted flashlight/laser sight
• Double action trigger
• Trijicon RMR sights w/ tritium fiber optic iron sights backup
• Threaded barrel
• .45 Alpha Dog suppressor

Backup Sidearm

• Khar PM45 Backup Pistol
• 10 round magazines

Melee Options

• Ka-Bar Big Brother 2217
• Silver powdercoat
• ESEE Four
• Spyderco karahawk g-10, Benchmade Infidel automatic knife

As a result of his multi-disciplinary training, Connor has taken a particular shining to Akido, Krav Maga, and Glima as martial arts. While each individually is ferocious and effective in their own right, utilizing several parts of their techniques together ensure that Connor maintains at least a fighting chance against a physically stronger opponent should he be disarmed.

He isn’t one for jewelry, but be wears Niobe’s ankh necklace as a momento, and a grim momento mori ring on his right hand; a silver skull of a biker ring variety.

THEME SONG:

Spoiler: WRITING SAMPLE

New Orleans, LA, USA

2230 local time


Only in a city as godless and crooked as the Big Easy could one hear the “Saints Come Marching In” with such frequency. Brass bugled on street corners without end, encouraged by the pocket change and rumpled singles tossed into their instrument cases. Connor sat not ten feet from one of the street musicians, his eyes pinched in mounting vexation. Across from him, Cassandra swung her feet in her chair, drowning a beignet in the shallow cup of saccharine cocoa.


“...Daddy!” Cassandra yelled, her voice finally cutting through the chaos of Connor’s thoughts and the brassy tones of the trumpet. Connor snorted, rubbing his eyes, shadowed heavily with so many sleepless nights. He hated the heat, being a hirsute fellow, but heat and humidity together made his skin crawl.


“Sorry. What’s’it, peanut?” Connor asked. Cassie narrowed her blue-green eyes at her father with an air of incredulousness.


“What’re we after, anyways?” Cassandra inquired, and Connor replied by tapping two fingers to the breast of his light canvas jacket.


“You tell me, book-wyrm,” Connor said with the kind of unique smile a father saves only for his child. Then, he re-focused on the street musicians as he tossed back the last of his coffee, dregs and all. Cassandra blew a springy strand of her honey-colored hair from her face and pulled a journal from the Lion King backpack in her lap. The pages bristled with post-its and dog-ears, frayed and stained from a lifetime on the road.


“New Orleans, nocturnal…” Cassie muttered to herself, thumbing through several pages. Thank goodness she was so organized. “Audial stimuli…”


And so smart, too.


“Ah-ha!” Cassandra squaked, nearly spilling her drink in her exclamation. “We’re after the Axe Man!” Connor snapped his fingers and pointed at Cassandra in the affirmative.


“Ding-ding-ding… and what’s this ‘we’?”


“Oh, come on, dad! You wouldn’t be able to catch half the shit you do without me.”

“Language, young lady,” Connor warned, and Cassandra sighed.

“Sorry. Sorry. But… I’m right… right?” Cassandra asked, invoking her power of puppy-dog eyes.


“Just ‘cause you’re right don’t mean you’re ready to play overwatch, little lady.” Connor said roughly, pulling a roll of bills from his jacket pocket and leaving close to enough on the table to cover the bill. “Eat up and pack up, peanut. Which of these should we tail?”


“I think you already know, daddy…” Cassanda rolled her eyes to her right, indicating the musical butcher of a street musician on their corner. Good, she did her homework. The ghost of the Axe Man would only target what Connor considered “the superbly ungifted”.


“Good choice. Get back to the car, key the rad-”


“Key the radio and provide logistical support. I know…” Cassandra huffed. Connor rose from his chair and kissed Cassie in the wild nest of her hair, handing her the keys to his car.


“That’s my girl. Now git.” Cassie obeyed, springing from her chair and shouldering her backpack. Connor checked his pockets: two pistols with cast iron rounds and a Taurus snubnose loaded with .410 salt-shot stuffed in one coat pocket, a wrought iron set of knuckle dusters in the other. Across from him, the street musician packed up with more fanfare than he had received from any of his dwindling crowd, and ducked into the drawing evening. Narrowing his eyes, Connor scanned the night-crowd, seeing a tall, pale man with a cello case tail the floundering musician by several strides.


“Strider to Korra, coms check”


“Korra to Strider, coms confirmed.” Cassandra’s voice chirped through Connor’s microphone.


“Solid copy, Korra. Eyes on Ringwraith, in pursuit.”


“Roger, Strider. I’ll keep the fire going.”

Spoiler: WIP Cassandra Creedmore

BASICS

Character full name: Cassandra Anastasia el Afra Creedmore
Nick name or alias: Callsign; "Korra", Cassie
Age: 10
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Undefined
Race: Human, mulatto; anglo-afro descent
Height: 4'4"
Weight: 69 lbs
Face Claim: Zendaya Coleman

Spoiler: PERSONALITY

Strengths:
Clever Girl: She's an extremely intelligent and inquisitive girl at her age, able to solve problems on the fly that some adults struggle with. Cassie is constantly hungering for more knowledge, going through books of fact, fiction, and fable like other kids go through candy.

Child of the World: While never really spoiled, Cassie was never wanting for an education. She's currently fluent in English, Arabic, Latin, and Spanish, while currently in the process of learning French.

Legacy: She is the child of the fabled Oracle of Siwa, meaning she might be next in line for a daunting supernatural inheritance.
Weaknesses:
Sweet Summer Child: In the animal kingdom, predators prey on the juvenile of the herd for a reason. They're slower than adults, physically weaker, tiring out quicker and easier to overpower. The same applies to those who see humans as cattle.

Nightmares: Cassie is prone to nightmares, making a good night's sleep hard to achieve at times.

Bleeding Heart: Not yet jaded by the Life, Cassie believes that everyone can (and should) be saved, even some of the monsters.
Likes
Books
Barbecue
Animals
Dislikes
Tomatoes
Lumpy pillows
Humid weather
Fears
Thunder
Spiders
Gore
Dad's Temper

Spoiler: FRIENDS AND FAMILY

Connor Creedmore - Father - Alive
Niobe el Afra - Mother - Deceased
Sherman - Dog - Alive

HISTORY:

EXTRA INFORMATION:

THEME SONG:

WRITING SAMPLE:

 

[apolla]

[class=timagecontain]height: 190px; width: 200px; position: relative [/class] [class=timage]height: 190px; width: 200px; background-image: url(https://www.thomassabo.com/on/demandware.static/-/Library-Sites-global/default/dwa209adad/brandworld/04%20Celebrities/2016/Stephen_James_1_3_komplett.jpg); background-size: cover; background-position: 20% 10%; [/class] [class=timage2]height: 100%; width: 100%; background-image: url(https://www.unsignedgrp.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/ST2-copy-732x1024.jpg); background-size: cover; background-position: 20% 10%; opacity: 0; transition: opacity 1.7s [/class] [class name=timage2 state=hover]opacity: 1 [/class] [class=timage3]height: 190px; width: 200px; background-image: url(https://i.shgcdn.com/546482a7-e3de-42ed-b479-696f6dbddaf1/-/format/auto/-/preview/3000x3000/-/quality/lighter/); background-size: cover; background-position: 20% 10%; [/class] [class=timage4]height: 100%; width: 100%; background-image: url(https://inkedcartel.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/Stephen-7.jpg); background-size: cover; background-position: 20% 10%; opacity: 0; transition: opacity 1.7s [/class] [class name=timage4 state=hover]opacity: 1 [/class] [class=block] width: auto; padding: 0px 2px 0px 2px; font-size: 10px; display: inline-block; color: white; margin-top: 10px; [/class]

[div class=timagecontain] [div class=timage][div class=timage2]

DIE THIS WAY®

Should I smile like everything's good

x

[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Name:

Hunter Harlow
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Nick name:

n/a
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Age: [/div] 26
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Gender:[/div] Male
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Sexuality:[/div] Heterosexual
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Race:[/div] Human
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Height:[/div] 6'0
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Weight:[/div] 187lbs
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Face Claim:[/div] Stephen James[/div][/div]

[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Strengths

+ strong
+ loyal
+ artistic
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Weaknesses

- selfish
- impatient
- morbid
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Likes[/div] loud music, fish, training, energy drinks
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Dislikes[/div] being hot, quiet, "young immatures", popcorn
[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]Fears[/div] losing his sister [/div][/div]

[div class=timagecontain] [div class=timage3][div class=timage4]

[/div][/div]

DIE THIS WAY®

I tried to be like the rest of y'all, sorry I just can't

[/div]x

[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]history

Hunter was given a very ironic name, and it's one he's always needed to live up to. His older two brothers were so serious about their training, as was their father, that the only saving grace he had was time with his mother. He wanted to be a serious hunter like the other men in his family, but he couldn't deny that he relished the time spent with the woman who gave him life.

She never wanted the hunting life for Hunter, despite his name. And then when little Sera came along, she especially didn't want it for him-- or her. She needed at least her two youngest babies to have a life free of that, so that they could live up to their potential and be anything they wanted. When she was killed, Hunter took it the hardest. But then he threw himself into training, and protecting his sister.

He's got a slight morbid sense of enjoyment when it comes to killing, because in his twisted mind he's constantly avenging his mother's death, and the almost death of his sister, and even after that, the death of his brothers and father. The siblings are extremely close, and he refuses to let anything happen to her. She's protective of him, too, even though he refuses to admit that he needs her as much as she needs him.

[/div]

[div class=block style="background-color: #6F5369;"]theme song

[/div] [/div][/div][/div]

coded by nymphadora. ©

 

[Night Owl]

Spoiler: Kathrine

BASICS
Character full name: Kathrine Hunter
Nickname: Kat
Alias: Janna King
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Race: Human
Height: 5'8
Weight: 126 lbs
Face Claim: Anna Silk

PERSONALITY:
Strengths: + Loyal, clever, intuitive
Weaknesses: - Stubborn, impulsive, impatient
Likes: + Hunting, going to a bar after a hunt, bubble baths.
Dislikes: - Cops (getting the way of a hunt), winter (snow), vegan food.
Fears: Realistic dolls, being buried alive.

FRIENDS AND FAMILY:
Tba

HISTORY:
Some people get to have a normal life and some don't, Kathrine's life wasn't one of playdates and sleepovers but of training and more training. Her parents made sure that as soon as Kat was old enough she knew about the monsters in peoples closets, they told her all about it. She read about them and did as her parents told her whenever they left her home alone to go on a hunt.

Kat wasn't much into hunting during her childhood years. Sure, she learned the ropes, trained to fight and went to school but her heart wasn't in it. Things changed after her parents died while on a hunt. Kat was eighteen years old when her mother and father left to hunt down a nest of vampires and never returned. She started hunting full time and dedicated most of her time to it.

THEME SONG:
Maybe I'll add one later

Spoiler: Sienna

BASICS
Character full name: Sienna Adamenko
Nickname: Jinx
Alias: Rachel Bathory
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Race: Human
Height: 5'7
Weight: 124 lbs
Face Claim: Layla Rose Shapiro

PERSONALITY:
Strengths: + Patient, adventurous, imaginative
Weaknesses: - Careless, selfish, blunt
Likes: + Fast food, alcohol, hunting.
Dislikes: - Control freaks, long distance running, having to wake up early.
Fears: Very sick people, hospitals.

FRIENDS AND FAMILY:
Tba

HISTORY:
Some people are born into the life of a hunter, they train for years, hone their skills and become almost unstoppable killers of monsters that lurk in the night.

Sienna isn't one of them.

Born into a family of the most ordinary and normal people on the planet, she had a normal life. Well normal until she discovered life is so much more fun if you do what you want and throw the rulebook out the window.

On her sixteenth birthday Sienna and her clueless friends went into a haunted house to celebrate her birthday. Needless to say it didn't end well. An evil ghost locked them into the house and started picking them off one by one. Just as the ghost set its sight on Sienna a hunter busted down the door and saved her.

After that day Sienna started to train and became a hunter.

THEME SONG:
Hyde - Who's gonna save us

Spoiler: Writing sample

Intro

The moon hung high in the sky yet dark and ominous rain clouds quickly drew closer as a young woman walked along a lonely path. The click clack of her heels grew faster and faster as she tried to outrun the feeling of being followed. Pulling her coat closer around herself the woman risked a glance back only to see the path empty. Was she paranoid? Just to ease her nerves she looked towards the greenery on the side of the path as well.

Did the night play tricks on her? Or was there something lurking inside the shadows, watching with hungry eyes? Maybe the slight glint she had seen inside the bushes had been the eyes of a cat?

The young woman shook her head, turned back around and continued her way towards safety. Yet she never reached her destination. She had barely taken a breath when something grabbed her ankle and pulled her into the bushes.

*
​

Katja groaned disapprovingly as her cell phone rang with a melody that seemed to pierce right into her skull. Maybe that last glass of vine hadn't been such a good idea she thought to herself as she held her head with one hand while reaching for her phone with the other, she sat up and cleared her throat before picking up.

"Katja where the hell are you? We were supposed to meet half an hour ago!" Came an angry voice belonging to Mark, her partner. No not a romantic one, she would rather douse herself in gasoline and light a cigarette then have something with that particular man.

Mark was the annoying bastard that had dragged her into the world hidden from most people. The world where knowing about its existence meant being a target of something that was considered a myth by most.

"What are you talking about? Its too early in the morning for this" she said and stood up so she could walk to the kitchen to prepare her morning coffee "are you joking? Its 11 am! Stop messing around and get here already, we have a new case" he said in an angry voice before hanging up. Katja sighed, it was time to get to work.

 

[Glassy]

I'll make it pretty if it's accepted and if not then I'm sorry.

Robin Hendrix
​

Spoiler: ROBIN HENDRIX

age: 29
birthday: 28th November
nickname: Bobbi, Bob
gender: female
sexuality: bisexual
race: human

face claim: Tatiana Maslany
height: 1.63 m
weight: 53 kg

strengths:
- Resourceful
- Loyal
- Resilient

weaknesses:
- Confrontational
- Impulsive
- Devious

likes:
- Alcohol
- Being outdoors
- Punk Rock/Rock Music

dislikes:
- Small spaces
- Having nothing to do
- Hot weather

fears:
- Dying slowly.
- Letting her daughter down.

Family:
Maeve 'May,' Lance - Adoptive Mother, 40
Thomas 'Tommy,' Lance - Adoptive younger brother, 24
Grace Hendrix - Biological daughter, 8

Extra Information:
n/a

Theme Song:
Bastielle - Blame
The Clash - Death or Glory
Barns Courtney - The Attractions Of Youth

Bio:
Robin was adopted by a woman named Maeve Donovan when she was four years old, Maeve was a former hunter trying to live as normal a life as possible for the sake of the young girl she found during a werewolf hunt that claimed her partner and the girls parents. At first she had been going to leave her at a safe haven or see if anyone had any contacts in social services but instead she reached out to a close friend who specialised in fake documents, albeit usually of the fraudulent law enforcement ID kind and asked them to help her create a new identity. Help her get out of the life. Because May had never thought she could have kids, never thought that she could be a Mother but Robin was her chance to be a Mother. She hadn't been able to save the girls parents or her partner but she could save the girl from a life in the system. And it could also save her life. The life of a hunter was a short one and the chances to get out of it were few and far between.

She tried to keep the best of both worlds, teaching Robin all the skills needed to hunt and protect herself alongside a few skills teaching her how to con/impersonate people (it was a useful skill for getting witnesses and law enforcement to believe whatever story you spun them,) whilst keeping her away from other hunters. Instead of being raised on the road like she had Robin got to go to school and live a semi-normal life, homework on weekdays and lessons on how to get rid of a ghost on the weekends. As she got older they would go on short hunts, salting and burning of bodies to rid a house of a ghost or wraith hunts.

Never werewolves though.

May always went on those alone and always came back drunk.

They were the only times Robin would see her cry.

When Robin was thirteen May returned from a hunt with a young boy, an eight year old, like her his parents were killed on a hunt. Though it wasn't one that May had been on. A friend in the hunting community knew what May had done for Robin and hoped she could take in the boy too, citing a promise he'd made to the dying parents. Robin had hated the idea of a younger sibling at first, not wanting to share May or her home but Thomas won her round - within a year the duo were inseparable.

The agreement had always been that when Robin reached the age of sixteen she would be able to start hunting properly, Robin had practically counted down the days till her sixteenth birthday since the deal was first struck. However when Robin turned sixteen May refused to honour it, saying that she didn't want Robin to throw her life away - didn't want her to get herself killed, looking back Robin could understand why May had changed her mind (especially now she had Grace,) but at the time in a heated argument fueled by anger and teenage angst Robin couldn't understand why May would back out from that. Robin wondered if May somehow thought she wasn't ready, thought she was still a stupid little kid and wondered why May could go out and hunt but she couldn't.

And so Robin started sneaking off and doing minor hunts, coming back battered and bruised to a disproving and increasingly furious May. By the time Robin was eighteen their relationship was extremely strained, with only Thomas holding them together. He was reluctant to hunt, happy to do the research and legwork as long as he didn't have to engage in the actual hunting side of it. And so he kept May happy by staying on at school and working towards his GED. Robin had dropped out when she was seventeen in favour of hunting, something that hadn't helped the strained Mother-Daughter relationship at all.

Robin left home when she was nineteen after an argument between herself and May, the two had just stood yelling at each-other for what had seemed like hours before Robin grabbed her bags and drove off into the darkness. She spent the next three years drifting from motel to motel and from hunt to hunt, some hunts would take months and require some kind of long-con whilst others were simple salt and burns that could be finished in a weekend. Though the research required for those usually meant it took her longer, she was good at investigating and dealing with people but whenever she was forced to sit in an archive office for hours trying to work out which dead person was haunting a place she usually struggled.

It was on one 'long-con,' hunt where she met Lincoln Warnos a mechanic from a small town in Maine. It was suspected that Shapeshifters were inhabiting the town and so she went to investigate it. She'd wrongly suspected that Lincoln was one and ended up getting close to him, when the real threat was dealt with she stayed around - getting into a serious relationship with him that went on to last for just over a year. It was her that broke it off, or more accurately: cut and run, after finding out she was pregnant.

It was that revelation that got her to go back home, she was desperate and hadn't known what to do. May helped her, supported her and nine months later Grace Hendrix was born. Robin had been ecstatic and terrified all at the same time. She promised herself that she'd stay around for Grace, give up the hunting life and settle down like May wanted her to. And she managed to for three years but ultimately she couldn't do it, she'd hear about things in the news or in the paper and feel the urge to go do something and help people. She couldn't sit around and listen to stories about people dying whilst knowing that there was a chance she could save them.

And so when Grace was three, Robin entrusted her into the care of May - trusting her adoptive Mother to keep her daughter safe. She visited constantly and knew that it was her best chance at giving Grace the life she deserved and the life that she couldn't give her.

Since then she's been hunting, trying to make the world a better place for her daughter.

Spoiler: Writing Sample: General

Elizabeth drummed her nails against the grooved wood of the Slytherin dinning table, it was meant to be a soothing - even comforting gesture but it was doing little to help ease her nerves. She wasn't a super spy, secret agent or even a very good actor but somehow she'd found herself in a position where she'd need to be one, where she had to deceive those closest to and those around her for the sake of the greater good because as much as she wished it wasn't so Hogwarts was in need of people fighting for the greater good and for the light. You only had to look around the Great Hall for confirmation of that. Where there used to be laughter and chatter amongst students inside of a room with a merry atmosphere as everyone welcomed their friends back to Hogwarts and the Professors watched out for mischief with a smile on their faces and a twinkle in their eyes there was now a hushed chatter with tension in the air and a group of cold eyed Professors gazing over the students that had survived the battle and had been deemed to be a 'suitable,' student at Hogwarts. The muggleborns were all practically gone, most having fled for their lives or been banned from coming back and the half-bloods and purebloods that had sided with the light were all viewed as blood traitors and practically held under a microscope. Shunned by those loyal to the Death Eaters and semi-ignored by those too scared to go against them.

It was why she'd been asked to join the resistance and be their eyes and ears within the Slytherin house, she was one of the few in an able position to interact with both sides with as little scrutiny as possible. She wasn't under a microscope like some of the others she'd met over the summer as her family had remained largely neutral, neither friends nor enemies with either side and that neutrality had been both a blessing and a curse. Neither side fully trusted that there weren't aligned with the other and so neither side had been too keen on befriending the youngest Westwood. She'd had friends, of course but she hadn't missed how her friends on the light would stop talking when she entered the dorms or how those on the Death Eaters side had lowered their tones to a hushed whisper when she entered the common room. Her one true friend, ironically a muggleborn Gryffindor - that friendship had earned her some sideways glances from the more fanatical of her friends, was dead.

Which was all why she was sat at the very end of the Slytherin table, not exactly shunned but not welcomed by those around her. A misfit. Because her family were now officially and technically helping the dark and helping the Death Eaters but none of them had received the mark and none of them were wanting to. She was going to have to try to change that, change their perception of her if she was going to do any good at Hogwarts, she just wasn't entirely sure how.

The sound of someone sitting down opposite her jerked her out of her thoughts, she looked up with wide eyes at what she assumed was a seventh year girl. A sixth at a minimum. The unfamiliarity of the face threw her, she knew most of the students in her year and this year only made it easier to remember names and faces with the absense of so many from the years before, she opened her mouth to ask the question before she overheard mentions of an exchange student from around her. She supposed it made sense, just as people were fleeing away from Hogwarts purebloods who's interests aligned with the Death Eaters were flocking to Hogwarts in an attempt to make sure that their children were educated amongst the 'correct stock.'

Maybe this would be her chance at blending in? If she could befriend the girl and then the girl would presumably go on to befriend or be befriended by the other Slytherins which would then be her way into the good books and social graces of those loyal to the Death Eaters without it making it seem as if she was trying too hard. As if the reserved yet friendly greetings of her fellow Slytherins were anything to go by they weren't completely opposed to the addition of the exchange student which hopefully boded well for the plan she was trying to formulate in her head. Not that she'd ever really excelled at that, planing and lying weren't her strong suits. Again something she knew was going to be problematic considering her current position.

"Hello!" She greeted brightly, with what she hoped didn't come across as a too forced smile - it was practically all teeth and she felt her cheeks ache at the unfamiliarity of the wide and slightly manic expression. "If I'm not a complete idiot, and I very well could be, then you're a new student?" She tilted her head as she weighed up the potential options, she didn't want to look like she'd been eavesdropping on the conversations around her and she hadn't really been. She was just really bad at ignoring what people around her were saying but it was a habit ingrained in her to pretend that she hadn't overheard anything she had, her Mother had gotten tired of her daughter appearing rude or improper at dinner parities. "Homeschool or transfer? Rumour has it that Hufflepuff's had a homeschooler come in and Ravenclaw has had a Beaubaxton and a Dumstrang, I guess you're our new addition." She hesitated for a second before shooting the girl yet another bright smile and making a sweeping gesture to the rest of the table, "Either way welcome to Slytherin!" Holding her hand out towards the other girl she finally introduced herself, "Elizabeth Westwood..but everyone calls me Beth."

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