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Full name: Rosaline Black
Age: Has been 28 for a very long time
Race: Human (for now)
Occupation: Traveling saleswoman and purveyor of fine antiques
Miss Black’s looks are too good to be true – she’s tall and elegant, with long and sleek dark hair. Her skin is as pale as moonlit snow, and her indigo eye may look fiery red in the shadows, but all rumors of demonic possession are unfounded. Her left eye is covered by a thick black eyepatch, and you can see the tip of a nasty scar whenever she lifts it slightly to scratch an itch. You have to wonder how many tubs of virgin blood she bathed in to keep her skin so clear.
Some would describe Miss Black as “shallow”, “vindictive”, or even “psychotic”, “power-hungry”, and “unable to see fellow human beings as anything other than tools to be used to achieve her goals of eternal life, beauty, and wealth”. But those are just baseless accusations
Miss Black is a perfectly cordial and outgoing young woman who cherishes the company of handsome blonde men, orange cats, fine wine, and ancient cursed artifacts that could unleash forgotten evils across the New World if the FedEx guy leaves the box upside down for too long. Her worst trait, if she had to answer, would be that sometimes she’s too generous with these amazing sales in her antique store.
There is a long and checkered past here that you don’t want to delve into. But, since you’re reading this, you probably do.
Once upon a time, back when humans knew magic and feared its power, a lonely and destitute peasant girl fell in love with a demon and became a woman.
That woman then became a witch when her ex-boyfriend promised her the world and then didn’t deliver his end of the deal. In her quest for power and beauty and eternal youth, the scorned witch…
Well, to make a long story short, Miss Black went through a long and ugly experimental phase. Lacking the guidance of a coven, or even just a reasonably pragmatic friend, she made a lot of dumb and questionable choices, most of which involve men learning why they shouldn’t stick their dick in crazy.
Sometimes it’s small mistakes like “kissing the groom at his wedding to piss off the bride”. Other times, it’s big mistakes like “attempting to gain immortality by seducing and sacrificing this hot blonde prince but accidentally kidnapping his brother instead thus rendering the ritual a total failure and losing your soul to a human phylactery so you burn down his kingdom in a fit of rage”.
It turns out murder is generally considered “evil” and “illegal” and will earn you a cell in prison, and also people get very mad when you use witchcraft to break out.
Ever since then, Miss Black has been on the run, using every profane and/or commercial method known to man and monster alike to track down what’s left of her beautiful golden-haired victim lover whose noble birthright coincidentally makes his lifeblood a crucial ingredient to a hellish ritual that will consume his soul and restore what’s left of her pathetic, tainted, broken existence.
She's a serial tax evader, and likes to make ugly faces at babies to make them cry.
Very good at managing money
Excellent marketing skills
Knowledgeable in occult material and witchcraft
Makes men cry in bed
Left eye is a magic eyeball that can see weird shit through walls.
Above-average mana output
Intimately familiar with demonic pacts and possession
Makes men cry in bed
Failures and flaws
Everything she touches, dies. Flowers, vegetable gardens, small animals, large animals, past lovers, at least seven different infants...
Will do whatever it takes to get him to realize he's her one true love and he cannot escape her this time.
Sloppy spellwork, although she's gotten creative with cleaning up the aftermath
Full name: Seamus Alan Byrnes Nickname: Sean Age: Twenty Three Gender: Male Race: Human Occupation: Antique shop employee, can often be seen at the counter
Giving off a vibe of 'no fun allowed here' and being a 'no-nonsense' type of guy, Seamus stands at 6' 4'' tall, 186 lbs and has a willowy, taut figure that would probably be better appreciated if he learned to be slightly more well-humoured. Once possessor of matching brown hair and eyes, the young man now sports a Ginger hair color that slowly fades into Rose Gold. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Sean's sense of style is highly influenced by his mood that morning, seeing as he will normally just wear whatever piece of clothing is first inside his wardrobe and feels right, having few to no fashion knowledge at all. He will usually be seen wearing something one can only describe as 'casual sporty', that could trick some into actually thinking he exercises. The combos are often lacking in bright colors, save for minor details here and there, and will fade to shades of grey and black whenever he's feeling under the weather or just doesn't feel like being sociable... Well, less than normal that is. Approach at your own risk.
Sean's primary trait is how lazy and accommodated he is. While usually, that would be a bad trait to have, this young man's laziness has made him quite efficient when doing just about anything. Seamus is always looking for solutions that are going to require the less effort possible to be done, while still being passable as a solution. His accommodated nature also makes Sean an obedient employee, not proactive or caring enough to question any order given, undesiring to risk losing his job over being too noisy or curious. It is a nice job that pays nicely, if anything, he will prioritize keeping it over anything else.
Sean comes across as cold-hearted and indifferent, if only because of how insipid and chill he normally is. Other's needs and issues are dismissed completely unless they could possibly affect him, or his job. He will often make excuses as to why he's decided to not act and almost always will reply in a slow, bored monotone that makes it more than clear that this, whatever it is, is not his problem. The shop's and his own well-being are the only things that matter. Not one prone to outbursts, especially since these take way too much effort, Seamus is instead extremely proficient in sarcasm, to a point where it could be considered a second language for him. As such, one must learn to read in-between lines of just about everything he says, if they want to acquire insight over what he's actually feeling. This is only made harder by the fact that Sean avoids talking about himself and his life the most as possible, even lying about details he's not comfortable with sharing.
It's impossible to truly realize how much of the world one has been shielded from, until the day they're forced to face said world, head first, all on their own. And to Seamus, it was no different. After years of struggling to keep up with his grades, miraculously without repeating a single year, Sean graduated High School. Enjoying his freedom from the education system (at last!) and deeming it not his place, the teen had long settled in his own mind to have an average job. Perhaps work for a services company, start low make his way slowly up, he honestly didn't need that much.
Of course, his parents didn't take it well, arguing that no one could be happy with that kind of job, that he'd always be struggling financially, that his life would be utterly miserable. They pushed for college instead and the boy didn't take the pressure nicely. It wasn't that much of a matter over who was wrong or right, it was more of a matter of lack of trust and at the end, feeling misunderstood, stubborn and unwelcome at his own house, Sean sped up the process, setting up with an old friend from school to share a room with. Amidst nerves still high and misconceptions still uncleared, Seamus declared that he was leaving, packed his things and never spoke with his family ever again.
This is where things started going wrong, very very wrong.
If Seamus could already be considered accommodated, then he had just found his match. The friend was messy, barely leaving his own room to do more than picking something at the kitchen, then going back inside closed doors. Sean had always expected it to be a temporary endeavor, but this was absolute chaos. To make it worse the other was a bit of a hoarder and hated when objects had their places changed, even if it was to free up some of the passage. Forced to jump steps out of the original plan again, the boy worked as a waiter at a restaurant for a couple months, raising money to at least pay rent somewhere else where the mess was his own and would never reach the point of piles of comics and games in the middle of the living room. Or you know, piles of books that would look better on a shelf but YOU'RE SUCH A LAZY CUNT, YOU WON'T EVEN BUY THE GODDAMN SHELVES!! ONLINE!
Having moved to his own place, well technically, Seamus now had suddenly loads of bills more to pay with his miserable, tiny salary. Unable to continue working at the restaurant due to the enormous distance from the location, he went for a fast-food chain and it wasn't nearly as nice, or lasted as long. As he found himself struggling to pay things on time and was pushed to the point of skipping meals to make the cut, Sean signed up for the first thing he saw, retail. Oh boy, what a Hell it was. It's the type of job that will make one start giving up on humanity because honestly, 'Why are these people so dumb? And how can they make such a mess of things one minute after they were organized? WTF???!'
And thus Sean's history with shitty, terrible jobs had begun.
Because when one needs money and are desperate to pay bills, they will sign up for anything. He went from the retail to a call-center where he would eventually snap at a customer because 'yes sir, I know we're trying to bind you by a credit card you're probably not even going to use, but this is my job so fuck yOU FOR SCREAMING AT ME THROUGH THE PHONE! I CAN DO THAT TOO!'. Next it was being part of the cleaning crew of a mall, and obviously, the newbie gets to clean the bathrooms... He stood it for a single paycheck, then he quit.
Cubicle worker, secretary, doorman for a bar, cashier at a supermarket, taxi driver, street sweeper, delivery boy, bartender, stationery shop employee, newspaper delivery, the list goes on and on... Some paid well while the bosses were utter crap, others had 'scummy job' written all over it, start to finish.
His last one was manning a 24/7 convenience store. Night shift, on some really shady neighborhood. If regret could kill, Seamus is certain that he would have died at least 20 times already... The store got robbed, twice in the span of a week and a half. Both times the young man was put on gunpoint and told to pass over all of the money in the register, which he did since he didn't want to piss off the robber and get shot. Technically he was supposed to use the revolver under the counter, but he had no training and well, he wanted to live.
Then again, not too long after the second robbery, he had been approached with a man holding a knife. Bastard left with the money of Sean's pockets and his cellphone. That's when he decided to nope the hell out of there, bidding goodbye to the urbane life and turning to the countryside for some well-deserved peace and hopefully a lot less violence.
The destination? Aldenburg, notable for being quite ordinary, just what he needed after withstanding the craziness of the big city for so long. During the last month, Seamus has been setting up his new place, whose rent he has already paid in advance, just in case. Time passed and money started getting short again, in a week or two his bank account would be dry. Getting desperate, Sean searched the internet for an open position in the town and an odd, never before heard of website had popped in the screen. The job? Manning an antique store. That had to be one of the most normal positions he had ever filled, which, surprisingly enough, he had been the first to sign up for! Huh, perhaps his streak of luck was turning over? Well, nice salary at a job he had plenty of experience with. This should be fairly easy.
Despite the uncaring facade he puts up, Sean is, in fact, a big softie. He's a huge fan of soap operas, not missing a single episode, and often gets super emotional to the point of crying as he watches them. Displays of romance and affection will prompt him to mentally 'aww' at them and don't even get me started on foxes. Oh my god, he LOVES FOXES!
Whenever Seamus didn't quit a job on his own volition, or due to distance issues, he had been fired from his older positions for, and I quote, "Usage of improper, unprofessional and highly offensive vocabulary towards customers and co-workers" something that he's actually not proud of, at all. This time he's decided to actually try and filter out the more... problematic edges of his innate sarcasm. The keyword is 'try'.
The whole acting strong, indifferent and lazy are the hidden marks of someone who has clearly given up. Sean thinks of himself as a failure in society and deems it too late to turn his life around. Stuck forever as a minimum-wage employee who's always struggling economically, deciding between buying something he has a desire for or buying his next meal, sometimes even sacrificing meals to pay bills. You could say his unpleasant personality functions as a coping mechanism from all the bullshit life has been throwing at him ever since he moved. Adulting sucks.
A-Grade Liar: Be it to cover his guilt, be it to avoid conflicts, Seamus has been lying his way out of things for so long that there is no way to tell when he's being frank or not. It flows out just as natural as anything else.
There is no tone change, no physical ticks and he's able to remember exactly to who he's said what, even growing to believe his own lies in time. Similarly, it's hard to get when he's being sarcastic due to the same lack of indicative 'tells'.
Multi-tasking: The type of thing one learns to harbour after working on similar jobs for a while. Sean is able to 'partition' demands and tasks as they come and combine up to three of them efficiently to be accomplished at the same time. As such, he could be checking the inventory, while fulfilling a customer's request and also managing the counter, running from one place to the other, without forgetting what he had been doing once he's able to return to a specific task.
'Bullshit meter': Life sucks and particularly to Sean it had been nothing but ultimate suckage as he hopped from minimum-wage job to minimum-wage job. He's seen them all, every single type of customer, every single type of co-worker and every single type of bosses. Personality wise, there is nothing that could surprise him at this point making Seamus able to take a high level of other's disrespect, hypocrisy, vain complaints and demands before he needs to actually hold his tongue and calm his nerves.
Doesn't mean that he'll gladly be a punching bag, oh no, especially not out of work hours, but at the same time there's little that one could do to push his buttons. It's almost as if Sean didn't have any, to begin with.
Silent intimidation: Having grown harsh and tired with time, Seamus looks perpetually angry when in fact, it is hardly the truth. When in a bad mood, however, the semblance of the annoyed worker intensifies from a state of 'I'm done with everything' to 'I hope the world blows up to smithereens and we all suffocate to death on space'. He may not say so, but his gaze is more than enough to let one know he's that close to snapping. That's normally when kids cry and animals hide in his presence, especially since he's prone to growling back at them if they're noisy.
In the case that Sean is irritated at an individual in particular, that poor soul is going to be met with the most chilling, hateful and piercing stare of 'I HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL A THOUSAND YEARS FOR THIS, YOU ABSOLUTE CRETIN!!'. One can almost picture the background fading into freezing flames of pure Ire as they're judged for whatever wrongdoing they've done. Trust me, no one wants to be that person.
Failures and flaws
Sharp around the edges: Being kind and mindful was never one his skills, after his 'adventures' through adult life then it has almost become an inability. Sean is bleak, realistic, pessimistic and direct, telling things as they are without sweetening or hiding it. It's almost impossible to keep up a conversation with him without it devolving into a dark and critical subject.
To those that enjoy such things, it is a plate full, but for most, it is a boring, demotivating and unpleasant experience. It becomes even more brutal when the other party is a child and therefore too young to comprehend the nuances of what he's saying.
Lazy: Sean is not the guy to call when one is expecting a flawless job. Always trying to put the least effort on things as possible, the young man will look for shortcuts and even circumvent the 'proper way' of accomplishing a said task to spend the least time possible on it. As a result, solutions are often temporary, half-assed and flawed, definitely triggering other's OCD and perfectionism. He's also quite strict with his work hours, refusing to attend to work matters once he is out of the clock. Unless he's offered extra hour payment, of course. Gotta pay those bills.
Unheeding: You'd expect one to become more careful after being through life's bottom of the well, yet Sean doesn't seem to have learned his lesson. Prone to cherry-picking and jumping the gun when the subject is money or finances related, this young man fails to understand that if an offer sounds too good to be true... It normally isn't true.
Part of his awful job experiences can be blamed on this habit, also the few times Sean got scammed. Yep, it was one of those 'you won a car on a raffle you didn't even sign up to!' ones. He has fallen for it before and is very likely to fall for them again.
Unfriendly Facade: Dealing with Seamus is not for those faint of heart. His neutral stance is one of 'done with the world' and the fact that his replies are normally short and precise only seem to reinforce the impression that the young man is always angry at something. He has tried smiling or grinning before, but they always look off and insincere. It's very common to have children whispering things like "That man looks scary" to their parents when he passes by. Sean wasn't even in a bad mood that day...
Aine Moira O'Brien [AWN-yuh MOY-ruh o’BRI-uhn]
Occupation: Alzheimer’s care nurse at the Ben Franklin Retirement Home
A stiff breeze is, by all appearances, the most deadly foe to Aine. Small in every sense of the word, barely weighing 100 pounds soaking wet, the young woman only stands 5’1”. Built to be a dancer through and through, there are sinewy limbs in her deceptively frail frame, and though she is no superwoman, she is no slouch at her work. Perhaps in small part due to a perpetual graveyard shift, Aine’s complexion is exceptionally pale, save for the sprinkling of freckles dusted across her skin. Her hair is an almost platinum white, inherited from her mother, and she observes the world through a pair of golden eyes that, thanks to her height, is often mistaken for a lighter brown. Yet oftentimes, as she sings, her eyes begin to glow brightly.
• Kind - Aine is, before anything else, kind. She lets no obstacle prevent her from doing for someone else, and it’s not uncommon for her supervisors to have to tell her to go home, as she routinely works far past her shift. Though nursing doesn’t pay terribly well, she also spends a great deal of her free time seeking out ways to help others, whether that mean mowing her old neighbor’s grass or helping a local charity out with cleaning up the local park.
• Cunning - For all her kindness, Aine is anything but naive. Not all who seek to help do so without thought for themselves, and many people offer aid with an angle for profit. Too, she has been burned on more than one occasion when offering help herself, and it has encouraged her to find more situationally appropriate ways to aid people. Her cunning has also found application at the nursing home, and Aine has a unique ability to see what it is that meets her patients’ needs of the moment best.
• Overbearing - Regrettably, the mixture of kindness and cunning often results in a person becoming rather intrusive in their desire to help, and apart from her patients, Aine has a sometimes deserved reputation of being a busy body. Some bear her aggressive goodwill with patience; others less so, willing her to merely let them be.
• Prideful - Because she puts so much of her self identity in her willingness to aid others, she places a great deal of value in doing so. Every acceptance is taken with gratitude, and every denial is met with offense. Veiled (if badly veiled) offense, to be sure; the kindness that is her foundation almost always wins out in how she responds to people. But there is an edge to her for days after, and more than once patients have asked about her uncharacteristic reservation.
• Vulnerable - Aine wears her heart on her sleeve. Save when she can hide behind an act or word of immediate charity or kindness, she finds it difficult to hide her emotions, when indeed she tries to hide them at all. Readily joyful, sorrowful, angry, and afraid, people rarely have to guess at what she may be feeling at any given moment.
Aine was born in Aldenburg and has known nothing else as home. The only living child of Paul and Aibell O’Brien, she grew up poor in a poor town and never knew comfort or luxury. Much of what they had was donated to them or handed down from older cousins, and even purchasing a nice coat or a comfortable chair from a thrift store was a rarity. Their dwelling was small, with a single bedroom, and their board was meager, most often watered down soup, but somehow they managed. Paul, an aspiring writer, worked whatever odd jobs he could find, most often the heavy labor of a farm hand, and Aibell offered services as a seamstress for the repair of clothing.
Yet despite the utter Lack in their lives, Paul and Aibell were unerringly generous to whomever might come to them seeking aid. More than that; every Saturday, Aibell would show up at the Aldenburg’s Caring Place charity center, volunteering in whatever capacity she was needed. As she worked, she would hum to herself or sing a tune under her breath. Those around her took notice, and she was requested to sing at local events.
But she would only sing at funerals. Aibell was a banshee, born in Ireland long centuries before meeting Paul as he had visited the Emerald Isle for inspiration. For years she had been the guardian spirit of the Dalcassians, a family of prominence, and at the impending death of one of the family, her voice could be heard echoing through the hills and forests, bearing a sorrowful tune. But in Paul O’Brien Aibell found happiness for the first time in her long life. She left her guardianship of the Dalcassians, coming back to Pennsylvania when her lover returned there.
Aine had been born a year later, and afraid of retribution from others across the sea, Aibell had raised her closely, schooling her at home. But as a consequence, Aine saw closely her mother’s kindness and generosity and came to exhibit the same qualities. She became tied to Aldenburg and loved the town dearly. Yet she longed for something she couldn’t articulate, and it saddened her; Aibell had only ever told Paul what she truly was, and Aine never knew.
The older Aine got, and the more engrossed she became in charity work, the more sympathetic she became for the plight of the elderly. Many, it seemed to her, were placed in retirement homes and promptly forgotten about by their families, particularly those whose minds had begun to slip due to illness. She sought employment with the local home, and with hardwork and scholarship, she obtained a nursing degree and became a registered nurse at the Ben Franklin Retirement Home. She became a favorite with many of her patients, despite their issue with memory, and the soft songs she would sing to them that she’d lesrned from Aibell would bring them a restful solace they couldn’t explain. On occasion, they would fall asleep soon after and never awaken, but invariably they would be found with a peaceful smile on their face.
And so Aine remained at the home, living with her parents, finding purpose in her work but still bothered by some unnamed discontent that she could never explain.
As much as she loves and feels gratitude for her parents, Aine can’t help but feel a little jealous that growing up she had to share her parents’ attention with others. Far from making her angry, it makes her sad to think about, and she rarely does. Similarly, she also holds some small resentment against Aibell for holding her so closely while she was a child. Aine feels, had she been allowed to be more social of her own accord, that she might have made better friends than what she has, and possibly even a boyfriend.
Oddly, for all her preternatural singing ability, Aine has crippling stage fright, and the thought of performing as her mother does, even at funerals, terrifies her.
Due to the small nature of the town, as well as the protective nature of her mother, Aine has no idea how to drive.
• Vocal talent - Apart from the supernatural aspect of her voice, Aine is a legitimately talented and skillful vocalist. She can anticipate the way a song will progress after hearing a few bars and has been known to simply ad lib a vocalization on the fly.
• RN - As a Registered Nurse, Aine is well trained in every aspect of her job that would be required of her. Deft of fingers, strong of arm, and sharp of mind, her supervisors rarely have issue with her.
• Sewing - Though not nearly so talented as Aibell, Aine has taken up sewing by necessity in order to extend the lives of hers and her parents’ clothing.
• Mandolin player - By way of accompanying her vocals, Aine has taken up learning the mandolin. While still very amateur, she is taking to it reasonably well and can pluck out enough cords to not sound awful.
• The Voice of Mourning - Aine, thanks to her heritage, is capable of singing tunes that inspire any range of the more passive emotions: sorrow, peace, regret, despair, comfort, anger, and even ennui. The song always reaches the ears of those for whom it was meant, regardless of ambient noise or the deafness of the person. Her heart is not always in every song she sings, and unless she feels inspiration, it does not activate. But when it does, the individual for whom she sings very often does soon after, her song having heralded their death.
• Unnatural Constitution - Being of supernatural heritage, Aine is less prone to injury, sickness, and even the effects of age. They all occur, of course; she is not a fully supernatural being. But she is more resistant.
Failures and flaws
As mentioned, Aine is terrified of performing in front of others. Any size of crowd at all frightens her in that capacity, and she has been known to do anything she can think of to avoid doing so. She also has to walk everywhere, due to her lack of training or license for a car. Aine has also never drank alcohol of any capacity; should she do so, she’ll find that she becomes highly intoxicated at the smallest amount, thanks to the strange way her ancestry affects her tolerance of it.
Full name: Henrik Wolfe
Henrik, a slightly above average young man looks wise. Standing about 5' 9'' tall and weighing just over 155lb. He sports a slightly muscular and well-built physique, result of REALLY liking to play tennis. He has a very friendly and bubbly aura to him that makes the boy seem very approachable. The boy also has a natural set of brown eyes, matching with his brown hair (which he never ever combs or brushes since it just takes up valuable time to do thing)
His choice of wardrobe is pretty much random and what's the most convenient at the moment, but he still has a natural ability to pair up good combinations of colors and prefers practical clothing over anything fancy. Comfortable over good looking any day!
-Kind: Ever since he was a child, Henrik showed signs of being a kindly and caring individual who liked treating others in a very nice way. He does not believe in being mean for the sake of it and will always try to be kind and nice to someone he has just met. Even after dealing with the "Real world" and the harshness of life the boy still believes that being kind to others will make their day just a little better and pleasant, and that being nice to others is never in vain.
-Scatterbrained: Despite his best efforts, Henrik's mind is akin to a train, there is no going back once his path of thought has been decided, he can only eventually loop back around. He struggles to maintain focus on a subject for more than a few minutes unless the boy is REALLY INVESTED, product of his natural curiosity for everything and his diagnosed ADHD.
-Trusting&gullible/trusllible: Short of a 100% proved scientific fact, if he is told things by someone who has been nice to him or that Henrik trusts, he will blindly believe it no questions asked. And the boy will only question said information if someone of the same description directly or indirectly contradicts the previously said facts. Thanks to this he has been easily led by the nose a few times in his life, get doesn't seem to change his ways at all or be discouraged by this.
-Cowardly: Henrik isn't... the bravest of souls. He is deadly afraid of the unknown, of perilous situations and anything that could cause serious harm or death, and if on his own, will try to flee as quickly as possible from what is scaring the boy at the moment. As a matter of fact, he is so scared of the supernatural that even if he suspects that someone he knows is a supernatural being of some kind, Henrik's brain will stop at nothing to rationalize and make up any excuse to make it seem that they are normal people in his mind, poor boy wouldn't be able to bear the fact of being friendly with a "monster".
-Optimistic: Despite what life throws at him, there is always a silver lining and a brighter future in his eyes, while also keeping his vision firmly rooted on reality. It's good to dream, but don't think that being able to fly will become true!
Despite how outspoken he is about his aversion to supernatural things, he is still deeply fascinated by them but won't ever admit to it. If you ever call him out on it he will deny it with all his being, and if you give Henrik any kind of occult or supernatural , he will reluctantly accept while internally will be more excited than ever. Also he will never admit to being cowardly (It's a fact that embarrasses him greatly) and will try to put on a VERY bad facade of bravery that in all likelihood will crumble quickly UNLESS someone's else life that he cares about is at stake, then as painful as it is he will try to stand his ground.
Born as an only son to a loving if a little strict upper middle class family living in the countryside (parents HATED the big city), son of a banker and a home tutor who gave him substantial complementary studies (That he HATED with a passion but couldn't refuse because "It's for your future") during his time living with them. Henrik lived a pretty normal childhood, with the exception of being able to explore the creeks, caves and forest in the rural area to his leisure, thanks to his undying curiosity about everything. And that same desire to learn about everything took him to eventually becoming interested in the occult and the supernatural on his own, even going to the local library and the internet for research. One thing lead to another and he started going around his local town looking for supernatural phenomenon, sneaking out of his house at night multiple times to do so around the age of 12-13. Most of his outings proved... unsuccessful, but optimism didn't let him falter one moment!
And that dedication one day paid off when he heard of a rumor... there seemed to be an actual werewolf in town, who always showed up in the forest nearby during midnight in a full moon. With recklessness characteristic of his age and because of the accumulated frustration of all his failures for a whole year, he went to investigate this said piece of gossip. What he finds in the beginning was a bit startling but nothing scary, just an old man sitting on a rock looking at the sky in the middle of the forest. The teenager was about to say hello when the man suddenly started to morph and transform into a werewolf! Henrik had two reactions: "OH MY GOD A WEREWOLF FINALLY I FOUND SOMETHING SUPERNATURAL!!" followed by "OH GOD A WEREWOLF I'M GOING TO DIE". He was scared but still able to stand his ground instead of instantly fleeing! That was until the now transformed old man attacked a wild pig passing by, killing it swiftly and eating the corpse on the spot. The sight of this event left Henrik traumatized and scared for his life, so the boy promptly turned around and booked it as fast as he could while screaming. That day he swore he would not dabble ever again into the supernatural and occult, EVER.
Also... remember the strict but loving parents situation mentioned before? It got increasingly worse overtime as Henrik became older, evolving into controlling his schedule and encroaching into his free time. It got to the point that every time the topic of his future was brought up, intense and sometimes spiteful arguments spontaneously appeared. It all came to a head the day after he graduated from high school, when he and his parent had their most intense argument to date about what Henrik would be doing in the next few years. It devolved into shouting, sobbing, name calling, and a lot of feelings and stored up emotions coming into the daylight. By the end of it, it was clear that his parents just wanted a successful future for him, but had neglected to think about what he wanted. So, they all came to a deal, a middle ground that would leave everyone happy: If Henrik could prove himself reliable and capable enough in living in the real world, his mom and dad would trust his judgment and support him in whatever he desires to pursue in the future. But if he were to fail, then the young man would return home and talk seriously with his parents about what college career he will be studying the next few years. During this time of family turmoil his love for the occult started making a comeback despite his ever present fear of it, since it reminded him of his younger days where freedom was abundant, and is the reason he chose to live in Aldenburg, a town plagued with rumors of the topic, and is working there at the moment, as a part-timer at the Ojancana's Eye occult shop owned by Edward Navarro (For which he is eternally thankful for since the last place he worked at closed down)
-Quick on the uptake: If by some miracle or coincidence Henrik is able to focus on something more than 5 minutes, he is actually a very quick learner, having an easy time understanding and applying information. If he is interested in something, it will take little to no time and explanation for Henrik to learn it.
-Well educated: Despite what his warm and scatterbrained personality would have you believe, Henrik is actually a very well educated individual, capable of acting with proper etiquette should the situation call for it. Also his is very much capable and good at writing coherently with good calligraphy and very skilled with mathematics and arithmetic.
-Good coordination and sense of balance: Henrik could be very easily described as the opposite of ditzy, he is capable of precise,smooth and delicate motions and movements and has an exceptional ability to keep his body weight distribuition well balanced. It was something he was born good at, and he only became better when he picked up the hobbies of tennis and knitting at a younger age. He doesn't play much tennins since he finished school but he still knits at home from time to time.
-Resourceful: Thanks to his inherent and undying curiosity of everything, he became really good at researching and learning in the most efficient way possible. He knows exactly how and where to look for information.
Failures and flaws
-Scatterbrain: Unless he is interested in the topic at hand Henrik has trouble staying focused for even just 5-10 minutes, despite his best efforts. The best he can do to mitigate this is try to be actively interested, but that can only do so much.
-Trusting and cynical, a two sided coin: If you have been good to the boy or he deems you trustworthy, he is going to trust them and everything they say short of a 100% proved scientific fact. He just can't help but want to trust the people that seem nice and have been good to him. Though with people he doesn't know he shows a fair bit of cynicism and skepticism. Just how much? Well, to the point of double or tripple checking everything said to him or never fully believing it until fact checked, all coming from his desire to adquire the right knowledge.
-Craven to danger: He is not only very afraid of the supernatural and perilous situations, but with also either instantly hightail it out of there or freeze on the stop (If it's shocking enough) if met with any of those two scenarios, that is unless he is not alone... then it becomes a situation where his adrenaline is pumping and his judgment is clouded because of fear and the only thing he can think of is getting himself and the other person out of there, but without the ability to think clearly for a solution, it won't lead to anything good...
-Curious to a flaw: His desire to learn about things can be so great sometimes that it can lead him into... well, not very safe situations like being alone in the wilderness at night or investigating abandoned places, he just gets reckless when his curiosity is at play. And that same thing can be... a bit off-putting to some people, since... sometimes the subject of his curiosity sometimes could be considered... less than savory, like illnesses, medical conditions, physical trauma. He is a whimsical being whose curiosity always gets the better of him.
Full name: Edward Dante Navarro
Race: Human (Magically Inclined)
Occupation: Owner of Ojancana's Eye (an 'occult' shop)
Eddie Navarro is a rather average looking man at first glance... if you can get past the sour look on his face he'll give you if your eyes happen to meet his sharp, almost-too-bright blues. Perpetually furrowed eyebrows and a strong stubbled jaw round out his facial features, aside from the shock of spiky black hair on top of his head. Accented by a couple of small scars on his bottom lip, his frown isn't much of an angry one, but a determined expression.
This is a man that clearly has no time to waste on most pleasantries... or so it would seem from first glance.
Standing at just 6'1", his athletic form isn't outwardly menacing, but he carries himself as if he was a taller man. If ever seen without his baggy jacket, one might catch a glimpse of dusky hands covered in rings, perhaps a wristband or two, tattooed forearms and strong arms that lead up to broad-but-sharp shoulders, and a neck with a chain usually slung around it that might lead to a necklace either over or under various dress shirts.
Though he doesn't necessarily dress to impress, he looks presentable enough in business casual. Got to keep up appearances as the owner of a business somehow, right?
If there was one word to describe Eddie at first meeting it could be 'determined'. Depending on just who he was talking to, they might instead go with 'sarcastic'. Perhaps even 'derisive'. Though he never means to outright, the male can come off as slightly bitter, almost cold, as if he was seeking something out and can't be bothered to throw off his schedule.
Still, once one really gets to interacting with him, they can notice something much deeper than the walls he puts up. He's calculating, sometimes to a fault, and has a sense of humor somewhere in there that might not always be noticeable until after a few times talking with him.
Eddie wasn't born in Aldenburg. Nowhere near, in fact. No, the man was a traveler. A seeker. Used to the city. But, for now, Aldenburg was the place he called 'home'. Temporarily, at least.
Something had drawn him here. It wasn't one of the various trinkets he collected. It wasn't even because small towns were perfect for his kind've shop - though that was good part of it. No, there was something about the town that had called to him. Something about it that felt off in just the right ways.
And the collector aimed to find out why.
It wasn't like he had much to go back to. His parents were gone and all extended family was either too far off to keep in touch, or hadn't much cared to. It was fine by him, either way. He didn't need the distractions.
He'd been normal, once, relatively. A bit of a lost soul after his parents had passed without much direction. But then he'd stumbled on his first glance of something otherworldly. It wasn't much, just a necklace at a pawn shop in some random suburb outside of Chicago. But something told him to buy it. Something told him that he needed it. It wasn't fate - the man didn't believe in any of that - but it was a draw. It was something 'other'. A lot of the items he'd come to find were like that, to him anyway. He'd never asked anyone else if they had the same reaction. The same bristling curiosity. The same seeking drive to find that which - most times - was hidden in plain sight.
But those discoveries had changed everything for Edward. Given him some sort of purpose, albeit a rather selfish sort of one, and he'd been seeking ever since.
Aldenburg was a nice place to stay anyway. He'd stayed a few months. Set up shop. Listened to the rumors as they wafted about town from the old timers and the stoners that frequented his business. Hell, even got himself an employee at one point; some local kid with a name that seemed out of place for the small town, but somehow fitting.
And during all this... another shop showed up, seemingly out of nowhere, just appearing one morning. Antiques, run by a rather interesting woman that had grabbed Eddie's interest. The town seemed off enough... but this place stood out to him. And he aimed to find out just what was going on with Miss Black's Antiques.
Eddie knows that his shop is a sham and it bothers him. But it's a means to an end: money is money and if people are willing to buy useless trinkets and potions, that's more on them than him.
He's had to do some bad things now and again in the pursuit of his growing collection. Sometimes the guilt eats at him, but he tries his best to push it away in favor of his goal. The alternative - powerlessness - seems much, much worse.
A Friend of the Drink - Eddie's no stranger to alcohol. In fact the two are very good friends. As such, he can hold his own when it comes to drinking... for better or worse.
Sleight of Hand - The collector has had to learn some shady ways to get what he wants and needs over the years. As such, he is quite good at things like picking locks and sliding open windows without making a sound. Very dexterous in general, if you shake his hand, you might want to check how many fingers you have when you pull away.
Silver Tongued Devil - Eddie wasn't always a smooth talker, but if you get into enough shit, you find out it's usually best to try and talk your way out of a situation before fighting. As such he's confident in his words and actions whether he's lying or telling the truth, having a stroll in public, or caught somewhere he shouldn't be.
Cool Head - The man seems to manage to keep his cool - outwardly anyway - when shit goes down. Most times he's thinking of a plan even before things go wrong, just to make sure he has a way out in case something explodes.
Third Eye Opened - Eddie's never quite noted it as something he can do on purpose, but the man notices things now and again that might slip through the cracks. Chocking it up to just being perceptive, he's never put two and two together that most other people don't seem to notice the same pull he does towards things that might be a little outside of the norm.
Fistful of Lightning - Due to a couple of the rings he wears, the man can manifest bolts of controlled electricity that he can use to defend himself if need be, or for more practical things. You never know when you might have to short out a breaker box or zap a camera now and again. Perfectly normal things, you know?
One Foot Forward - One of the old looking leather wristbands he wears has a small, dark metal charm on it that allows the man to move just a bit quicker and quieter than he probably should be able. It's nothing terribly supernatural, and he's certainly not the Flash, but he's got a quickness in his step that most probably notice in passing, but attribute to his athletic seeming physique. Additionally, he steps rather quietly, even in shoes not always suited for sneaking around.
In Plain Sight - Somewhere in his collecting, Eddie happened upon a ring that let him hide things. Not things at random, but objects on his person. It's not that they're directly invisible, really, but they just seem so unimportant to people that they sometimes might as well be. He can only hide one thing at a time, but sometimes it helps getting around town easily without people noticing you have a sword on your back.
Failures and flaws
Only the Paranoid Survive - Eddie is severely paranoid at times, especially when it comes to the objects he possesses. On one hand, it's kept him safe here and there, but on the other, it makes him suspicious of almost everything and everyone he comes into contact with. He's never sure if the person he's interacting with might just be someone after the items he possesses and skills they contain.
Shoulder Lined in Frost - The collector can sometimes come off as very cold, distracted, and uninterested when something in a conversation doesn't benefit him immediately, even going as far now and again to simply walk away while the other person is in the middle of replying to him. It isn't that he's outwardly malicious, but sometimes can get easily distracted and pulled away to something else he deems more important at the time.
Lady Luck's Frown - Despite Eddie's careful planning of situations, he seems to have an almost unnatural ability to end up on the wrong side of luck at times. Nothing terribly serious or harmful, but inconvenient and annoying more often than not. He's not sure if it's a side effect of any or all of the objects in his possession, but it very well could be.
Look Out for Yours Truly - The man can't help himself sometimes, but he can be very self-centered. Not to the point of completely disregarding others, but due to his upbringing in a fairly poor household, he grew up knowing you look out for yourself before all others. He doesn't bother hiding it sometimes, which can lead to some interesting social interactions. He's not completely against helping others, but he's usually more inclined to make sure he's in the clear first.
Full name: Jonathan Ymir Dolskry
Occupation: Babysitter, Petsitter, Helper-for-hire
Jonathan looks younger than he actually is, which he contributes to the fact that he is a shapeshifter. Though, he likes to say he has just been blessed by a youthful complexion. His hair is naturally silver but he often claims it to be dyed. It's often slicked back. Jonathan does have an athletic build but is often covered by thick amount of clothing.
His usual form of clothing mainly consists of anything he can gets his hands on but he seems to have a liking towards wearing leather jackets whenever he's not on a babysitting job. He often wears at least two layers of clothing but he once reached three.
Jonathan is a rather laid back kind of guy. You could sometimes see him laying down in the sun - usually in animal form - and just doing nothing. He's a rather nice guy who would help you if you ask for his help. He is the type of guy who would help an old lady cross the street, but he's also the type of guy who would try not to get involved into something messy if it doesn't really benefit him in any way directly. Jonathan often just wants to live a normal life and earn some money on the side.
He absolutely loves animals, unironically. He would rather spend time with them rather than humans, but that's only a mild deterrent to his social life. Next to animals, he'd rather hang around kids and their innocence. It's nice to be around something so positive. On the plus side, when he's babysitting really small children, he could always use shapeshifting or blame 'stage magic' for his transformations to make the job more fun.
Jonathan had always stayed at the Aldenburg. For him, this is where he was born and this is where he will die. Unfortunately, his parents did not think the same way and they migrated away. Though, it is odd behavior for a shapeshifter to stay put in a town but that is how he felt. His childhood was very normal and he went on to finish high school but didn't get to finish college. As a teenager and well into his adulthood, he had become a well-known babysitter/petstitter with good credibility so he does continue doing it when people ask him for it.
He sometimes helps out invstigations if he's paid for it. However, he doesn't really care for what is happening during these times unless it gets personal. Thankfully, nothing has gotten personal yet and he just does it for the money that he gets. Once investigations are over, he just leaves with no strings attached. He is aware that this makes him quite the target but he is always willing to sign a contract to assure that he won't say anything.
In all honesty, Jonathan is just in need of money without having to work everyday. His life is pretty normal unless you count his investigation involvements, but those are very far in between. He would often just chills around and often hangs around local cafes.
Jonathan has killed two robbers before, and it is not his proudest moment because he actually lost it in animalistic rage instead of doing it for justice.
He once almost got found out because he nearly transformed into a wolf because of some juicy, juicy steak. To be fair, it looked so good.
Alcoholic Tolerance - He could drink two bottles and he still wouldn't be tipsy.
Household Chores - Having been living alone for most of his life, he has mastery over any household chore you can throw at him.
Cooking - Though he likes eating meat raw, he does know how to make it taste even better (or good for humans).
Babysitting - He has a way with children. Since he has a rather lazy and relaxed aura, he often gets to influence them so they would calm down.
Shapeshifting - He can shapeshift into any animal he has seen, even in pictures. Though the speed of his transformation depends on how much experience he has transforming into it.
Heightened Senses - Even in human form, Jonathan has better senses than the average human. Though it is less than when he actually shifts into the animals.
Animal Language - He can talk with animals of the same species of the animal he shifted into
Failures and flaws
Uneducated - Jonathan isn't very book smart because he's only a highschool graduate, and even then, he wasn't the brightest kid in the room.
Soft-hearted - To animals and children, he often goes out of his way to help them out. Unless they're spoiled brats, in which case, he does his best to stay away from them.
Disguise - His animal forms aren't really for disguise as his fur or feathers or skin are silver in color.
Humans - He cannot transform into other humans, quite unfortunately.
Animalistic - He retains animalistic instincts when he stays in an animal form for an elongated amount of time or if he shifts into an animal form repeatedly in a day.
Full name: Ioana Claudia Ene (Ee-Wah-Nah; Eh-Neh)
Race: Humanoid Human
Ioana presents herself with a "sorry, not sorry" in your face look with hair dyed a striking platinum blonde and a revealing, shaved side of her head. Her face hosts a small number of piercings, mainly one stud under her lower lip and two rings on her left eyebrow. Her tattoos are surprisingly scarce and can be easily hidden from public view if she wanted. Her wardrobe has a bit of everything, though she usually enjoys a myriad of "punk" clothes and some retro attires.
There's a lot that went into building Ioana's personality. When she left for college she had a rebellious episode, being quite libertine, in the name of "knowing what it's like" and "being free". But after her drinking incident, she grew more reserved, slowly returning to her previous behavior. The taste of alcohol makes her rueful and the thought of another debauched house party brings back awful memories. She won't talk about it, but she'll talk about other things! Like feelings, sometimes.
Ioana is the daughter of a Romanian immigrant and a local woman. She grew up in a relaxed, yet disciplined household and she lived a mundane life. Most of her years in the glorious US education system were slow and uneventful, but she made up for it in College. She strategically requested to go to a University outside of her home state, much to her parents' dismay. Once there, she let herself fall prey to the vices of a young adult. She pursued a degree in Illustrations and when she returned to Pensylvania, she realized there aren't many jobs that require her exact skills. Since then, she's been in and out of jobs trying to find something she can do without having to count the minutes before she can leave.
It's no secret that Ioana fled Aldenburg to escape the monotonous life and indulge in vices of a more liberal lifestyle. What she hides, however, is a certain episode of her life on campus. One night, at a low-profile party she had more than her share of booze, resulting in alcohol poisoning. Fortunately, it was not severe and she got her treatment in time. Only some people know about it, but she is otherwise unwilling to talk about it with anyone and has since let off alcohol completely.
Funny you should mention lockpicking...hah!
Knows how to play several instruments.
Is a great drawer
She can pull some sick playing card tricks, does that count as magic?
Failures and flaws
Ioana is lazy, and stubborn. In order to be made to do something she doesn't want to, she needs to be persuaded or bribed. She gets frustrated when repeatedly asked to do the thing and she doesn't mind unleashing a barrage of petty insults and f-bombs. She has quite the potty mouth. She will also, under no circumstances, drink alcohol unless forced. Due to her being a little sloth, she'll also try to find the way which requires the least effort.
Full name: Cain Lavan
Age: 46 Years Old
Race: Revenant Human
Occupation: Aldenburg Police Department; 13th Precinct.
Cain is a man of few indulgences. True, his facial hair seems likely to spit in the face of that notion, but compared to the people around him, it wouldn’t be too far out of the scope of possibility to think he came from another time altogether. Whether that’s an insult toward him or everyone else is anyone’s guess.
While in town, he is normally in his tan duster, lined to the brim with equipment and other fascinating things with which it is clear their placement was meticulously thought out. What sticks out the most about Cain though are his eyes. They carry a weight of which few could possibly fathom..
Most people know Cain for his calm, friendly demeanor to nearly everyone who either resides or visits Aldenburg. While for the most part, this is generally the norm for him, in rare cases it has been documented what can happen when someone pushes him too far. A particular lycan of the local trailerpark pack has had to deal with it on more than one occasion. No one is sure if that patch of fur is ever going to grow back properly….
Beyond that, Cain is known to be good with children, and has been shown to be very protective if they are involved.
Overall, a perfect idea to what most would want out of their local law enforcement.
Cain doesn’t like to speak of his younger years. Most attempts to get him to talk about it have been met with a raised eyebrow and a blank expression from him, followed by a change in topic. Asking around town had revealed unsurprisingly little. Cain has been around long enough that his name and face are a common appearance, not just for the supernatural majority, but for the town himself. Though to the normal person, he’s less seen as a regulator and more a beat cop. It’s also very clear his current profession was not his first. Whatever he had done before was clearly more exciting than what he’s doing now...
To clarify, Cain would prefer no one ever really asks about his younger years for rather understandable reason. Back when he was indeed human, he had a much different profession. Cain belonged to an ancient Order of Hunters. The Order was not too keen of Cain's discretion. Where most Hunters targeted Monsters for their existence, Cain only did so depending on their behavior. Namely, if they have or intend to harm humans. Being a capable Hunter, the Order could do little to force a change. A number of Hunters gravitated toward his methods and broke off from the Order. While there was never animosity between the two groups, it became clear cooperation was never destined to last long. Cain and his Hunters left the Order and traveled west where they would be needed.
A change in operation and venue led to a few dramatic changes. The greatest was what would later be called International Regulatory Board of Magic, though then it had a less illustrious title, who felt that this group was worth approaching. It was from this interaction that Cain's opinion on the Monsters around them seem less like optimism and more like fact. At first it was merely information of violent Monsters, but eventually the Board of Magic saw Cain's Hunters as an asset. Members of the Board had even bolstered the ranks of the Hunters with their own. In return for their services, Cain and his Hunters were given secretive knowledge of the world around them, and the equipment to deal with horrors far beyond the scope of the Hunters they had broken from.
It all came to a head on one fateful mission. A Demon had unleashed a great plague into Europe, devastating the continent. The entirety of Cain's Hunters was called to deal with the Demon. Each was given a charm to protect them from the plague, but a Witch gave Cain a second one. One that she never revealed the point to.
While the mission was a success as the Demon was vanquished and the plague subsided, it was a Pyrrhic victory. Nearly every Hunter was killed as the charms proved to be ineffective the closer to the Demon. Two surviving hunters, neither human, recanted the news of what transpired with the Demon. The two themselves found no issue with the plague due to their own resistance to it, and saw their compatriots one by one succumb as the plague near the Demon was far more powerful than previously imagined. Cain, while slowly dying from plague himself, took up the fight alongside the two others. Even in his dying state, Cain's last mortal act was to the defense of his friends, knocking him aside to take a lethal blow. Cain fell, gored by the Demon itself- Another soul taken far too soon.
The second charm activated, causing Cain to let out a feral roar, prying the horn off the Demon's skull before lashing out at the creature, its eyes were the first target, and then behind the sockets. All the while he continued to yell out the same phrase over and over: "I am not done.". Through this rabid assault, the Demon was slain and the three departed from there, bringing their fallen back with them for their burial.
The two would not speak any further about the incident, only about how it took more than a few weeks to patch Cain back to looking normal once again....And how the Undead Union barged in on the scene. The smell was what they remembered most from that....Experience.
Cain was not sure why he was still there. Most spirits once their duty was fulfilled would pass on, but he remained. And UU was absolutely no help in this regard, either...
Years would pass, and the Board of Magic would grow in size. Large enough for its effectiveness to wane from the incompetence of the mobs it encompassed. Cain and his two remaining Hunters remained, keeping to their profession. Every now and then, the Board would send them off to an area they felt needing their attention. The newest project being Aldenburg. Someone apparently believes it would be in the best interest of its denizens for Cain to look into the town.
Yet another example of the incompetence of the Board, when he first arrived and took control of the poorly named 13th Precinct of a three-precinct town, was that he had been listed as 'Human' when he first arrived.
Cain decided to roll with it.
Due to his occupation, there is more than a few nights he returns home at a god-awful hour.
Because of this, his wife is quite possibly getting more and more angry about the predicament.
And she may be getting more proficient with the knives she throws at his head when he walks through the door.
She may be getting close enough to hit him soon.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Arcane Knowledge, sans the capability of its use.
Equipment to deal with the Supernatural if threatened.
Full name: Hakk'thur
Hakk'thur is a lanky man standing at 6'4". He looks quite slim, and one could guess he weighs about 140 pounds, but his actual weight is closer to 300. His limbs are elongated, with his torso being disproportionately small. His hands reach to his knees when he stands straight up. His fingers are thick with cracked black nails that are also disproportionately thick. His skin is a sickly brown color with a leathery texture, with darker splotches scattered about. His neck has several gills, which he claims are wounds that won't heal. His eyes are extremely cloudy and have large pupils. He has precious few strands of hair left and is very protective of them.
Calm and collected. He has a strong poker face and plays off things as if he has a solution for every problem and pretends to be three steps ahead. It helps that he doesn't really do any complex evil schemery of sorts. He keeps his temper in check, but will most certainly not let anyone walk over him.
He does not hate humanity, like a large majority of stronger eldritch beings. In fact, he quite enjoys the uniqueness of them. He likes to hear multiple perspectives of things and will gladly listen to the rants of total strangers. Sometimes he'll use his abilities just to hear them rant. He loves to bargain, and he dislikes things that are set in stone.
Enjoys the company of others. Aside from his own subordinates, which frequently lack free will, he is friendly to most who come across him in the alleys or are unfortunate enough to bump into him on the streets. He does tend to be a bit nosy, and has a knack for getting whoever to spill the beans. Even for those who may pose a direct threat to him, he still acts friendly. He may not be plotting to kill them, but he's certainly working on a way to get out while carrying a polite tone.
Hakk'thur originates from a realm far beyond man. As so many eldritch beings are sent to do, Hakk'thur's mission was to spread chaos and destruction, death and despair. For a time, this is exactly what he did; though his scale was small, he was the cause of several abandoned towns in the upper Eastern coast, specifically in Maine, Vermont, and some parts of Canada. For thirty years he followed his mission with diligence and efficiency, but with no one to directly to report to, and no one to check in on him, his personal feelings took charge instead.
He wondered for some time, and found comfort among the rejects of human society. Those who had fallen on their own, and were cast aside. Outcasts, freaks, crazies, transients. Those who were usually downtrodden and struggled greatly with day to day life. Their minds were so easy to influence, Hakk'thur practically had a cult following him around the Northeastern United States. It was nice to be in charge, even if it was only over the homeless. Even they had their uses, as time would show him. An army of soldiers that no one paid any mind to meant that information was up for grabs! Was it ever important? No, not really. But finding the right people, down on their luck, troubles on their mind... and Hakk'thur had a new puppet. Most in low places, but some higher up the ladder than you would think.
Occasionally, a bigger fish comes along and forces him out, though. He wondered a bit more, and settled in nice little Aldenburg. Sure, the homeless population isn't what he wants it to be, but that makes it easier for him to hear things. To find new recruits. To get supplies. Less eyes to see him, less noses to smell him, less ears to hear him, and more food for him.
He makes the homeless he controls drink his blood. See 'Eldritch Blood' for an explanation.
Hakk'thur hates his name. He much prefers Niles. Not only is Niles much easier for his loyal supporters to say, revealing ones true name can lead to unwelcome situations of power balance in the world of demons and eldritch beings.
He's plenty content with just the homeless. Controlling people like CEOs or people who handle a large amount of information only makes things complicated and messy if they end up dying, or his powers are somehow traced. It doesn't mean he doesn't like gossip, or occasionally messing with people. It's a different story if they're messing with him, however.
He hates police and detectives. Not only do they arrest his subordinates, but they've made it so much harder in recent years to get away with a murder here or there. On the rare opportunities he can control a police officer, he will try to make them commit suicide on the spot.
Can drink any amount of liquor and not get phased at all.
Expert negotiator. He is frighteningly manipulative.
Pretty quick on his feet, has a really long stride.
Good at hiding evidence.
Can read emotions just from breathing patterns.
Super Digestion - Can eat literally anything he can fit in his mouth with no ill side effects, such as poisoning.
Eldritch Mind - Mind control over the weak-willed, within an approximate 100 meter radius. This range can be extended by direct line-of-sight up to 400 meters. Those whose minds are troubled are the easiest to control, but anyone can resist it. Drunk individuals, those on medication, in physical pain... all easy to sway their emotions. Actions range from simple things like truthfully answering questions to performing complex orders such as committing crimes.
Eldritch Blood - Hakk'thur's blood is like a dark green tar. He possesses a strong regeneration factor, able to heal missing limbs in a single night's sleep. This requires tremendous amounts of energy. Additionally, if someone ingests his blood, he can establish near-full mind control from any distance, at any time, regardless of their mental state.
Hallucinations - Even if Hakk'thur is not able to properly penetrate someone's mind, he can still alter their senses. They can be tricked into hearing things, seeing things, smelling things, feeling things, you name it. Normally they are weak effects, such as thinking someone is calling your name or smelling gasoline, but there are exceptions. Under near-total mind control, these effects grow much stronger, up to the point of certain nerve or motor functions shutting down.
Failures and flaws
Hakk'thur must completely submerge his body in water at least once a day for one full hour. While submerged, his appearance drastically changes. He gains no new powers in this form, aside from sharper teeth and claws.
Most of his senses are weaker than the average human, with the exception of hearing. He can only see, taste, and smell about half as well as a normal human.
His mind powers ONLY work on those who are in a near-constant mental state of distress. At times, a single happy thought can break the effects. The only exception to this rule is when the one in question has ingested his blood.
If he has to regenerate serious wounds, such as broken bones, the radius of his mind control is greatly reduced. If he's missing a limb, he practically disables the influence of his ability.
Melia is a rose-haired sweetheart at a first glance, swift and slender, carrying an air of gentleness with her faint smile and soft words. Yet from time to time, different impression surfaced in her gaze as she looks at certain things; a burning feverish fascination that could make people uncomfortable in its intensity.
Stands at the average height of 5'4". She likes to wear feathered jacket when the weather allows her to, and accessories with leaf or wings motives always adorned her appearance. It's unclear what kind of perfume she wears, but it gives her a scent of earth and burning leaves.
Her hair is definitely dyed, but the method might be less conventional than what one might expect...
Eager to help. So eager to help that it's kind of unnerving. Because this eagerness isn't universal; it's directed only to sick or injured people. You skinned your knees? Oh you poor precious thing. Fractured bones? How delightfully tragic! Get stabbed in the liver with only 15 minutes chance of being rescued from death? What a magnificent suffering you have there.
She is studious in her subject to the point of single mindedness.Which pretty much explain her consecutive A+ score and her lack of social life. Her college's lab and her mentor's potion chamber are her favorite places. No, she definitely doesn't laugh like a magical version of mad scientist there, and any evidence to the contrary is fake news that should be destroyed.
She speaks with pretty words coated in honeyed tone. Honesty is not her strong forte, though where exactly she belies the truth from people might be hard to pinpoint.
A decade ago, a sweet young girl chased upon her pet bird that had escaped into the forest. Unbeknownst to her, said forest caught ablaze in what was probably the biggest forest fire in the last decade. Being trapped between extreme heat and collapsing trunks would have killed any grown-up, much more a kid. It's understandable that the parents thought they had lost their little girl, and grieved at the news.
Except they hadn't. Said young girl was found a day later on top a heap of ashes, shocked and traumatized beyond belief, but miraculously uninjured. What happened after that was a series of events that the parents couldn't understand; the disappearance of researchers that want to figure out their kid's case, a strange child psycholog that keep describing their daughter as 'awakened', a tutor that keep teaching their kid the complex system of human physiology that was not in the curriculum, and a scholarship to the nearest university. Well, the last one wasn't that strange, if not for the stamp on the envelop that said 'P.M. Association'. No one had ever heard of said association, but the financial support is real.
And that's how Mel attends Aldenburg University, taking her bachelor degree in biology while researching the best graduate program for her. You know, being a dentist sound like a very good idea...
Quick to think of an insult for people or place she just see a second ago. Not that she would ever say it.
She is a taker of a strange oath that prevents her from doing what she really wants to do. Makes you wonder about what it means with all the good deeds that she has done...
First-aid - Treating broken bones, CPR, using defibrillator, you name it.
Nerves - Has an uncomfortably detailed knowledge about human's nerve system and the best way to incite strongest (most painful) response from it.
Poison - Also has an uncomfortably detailed knowledge about how to concoct a potion that is not strong enough to cause death but strong enough to make the victim wish it were.
What doesn't kill you make you stronger.
Pain Draw - Basically absorbing the energy caused by intense pain and convert it into HP
Healing - Using said HP to heal wound. But if your injury isn't painful enough, she might need to injure you some more before healing you. This also means the more painful her own injury is, the faster she can heal it.
Nerve-fraying - Sending sensation of pain to incapacitate the opponent. Creepily enough, it also affect inanimate object. The case where those which have no mouth can scream.
Failures and flaws
Doesn't seems to understand the concept of 'if it isn't broken, don't fix it'.
Numbness or general high threshold of pain would make her magic ineffective. Anesthetic is her biggest enemy, ironically enough.
Full name: Cynthia Avellana Linwood
Race: Human (witch)
Occupation: Co-owner of and baker at [insert hipster coffee shop name of the month here]
Cindy is 5'3" (160cm), fairly curvy and well-proportioned, and overall just cute. Dimples, freckles (just imagine them), the works. She has a tendency to play this up a lot, batting her eyelashes and whatnot. Wardrobe-wise, besides her trademark hot pink witch hat and matching heels, expect either casual jewel tones or black, gothic, stereotypically witchy outfits. Also, bright or black lipstick. And mismatched fingerless gloves. And crystal necklaces.
Whimsical and silly as all hell. She likes messing with unassuming humans because she can, and she's responsible for all the puns on the menu. Also, expect her to animate a few things around the shop and then joke about the place being haunted. Or offer to do a tarot reading for someone for free and being all serious and dramatic about the tower being a sign of terrible, horrible, no good, very bad things. Or describe exactly the ingredients and recipe that go into the maaagical pastries she makes, because it's not like a normal human's really gonna believe all that. Or introducing herself to customers as "Cynthia Winterbloom, but just call Witch Hazel! wink".
Really energetic and really really friendly! Like, she will hand out free food to people who she thinks needs it friendly! And she insists on using the shop as a venue for a welcome party every time new people move into town. Every time. She really tries to be friends with everyone, "tries" being the key word - more often than not, she either comes off as flirtatious or a little too desperate and invested in complete strangers. And the pet names. Oh gods, the pet names.
Talkative. Is this obvious? It should be obvious. Get her talking about anything and she just. Won't. Stop.
Cindy likes to think of her life as split into two parts: her Linwood life, and her Winterbloom life. She remembers her Linwood self as an exceedingly, painfully normal only child of a software developer and a store security worker. She was comfortable enough growing up, the best in her class all throughout elementary and middle school, and loved by her parents. She was their little hazelnut, destined to dig her roots into the city and grow into someone truly special. So maybe they were hard on her a lot of the time, and she cried easily when scolded, and she wished upon shooting stars for magic, but otherwise her life was oh so very normal.
Everything changed in high school, because she met Meg and she got exactly what she wanted when Meg started teaching her the basic principles of magick. Color and crystal and herb correspondences, astrology and tarot card meanings, where and how to get the things she would need, and eventually the baneful magicks - binding, hexing, and cursing. Soon enough, magic took over her life at the expense of her studies. Not that her grades suffered much - but the mundane world became even more dreadfully boring in the face of her new powers, and she was still facing that very same world.
College was something her parents insisted on, so Aldenburg, Pennsylvania it was. And what a delightful change of pace - being away from her parents, having the time and space for her witch practice, and the absolute saint that was her roommate Cornelia. (And the fey guy...? girl...? person, that kept trying to charm her for whatever reason - nothing a few of her protection puffs wouldn’t fix. Apparently that impressed said fey, and they became friends. Sort of.) She barely attended classes anymore to the disappointment of her parents, and eventually cut ties with them before leaving college with Cornelia and starting a little shop with the fey person. She’s worked there ever since, growing into her Winterbloom self, and she’s been doing pretty well for herself. Nothing special, really, compared to the Others in this town. But she’s earned her place here and she intends to stay.
"Really? I wanna open my own place. Like a nice little tea shop and bakery. I've got this whole list of tea blends for potions that I've tried out and everythin', even brought it up to Aqua once. But uh, it wasn't meant to be, seems like. People like their coffee, y'know? And it would be even more work if I decided to open up the place by myself, so... that and Aqua would be right upset with me. Probably. Maybe. Who even knows what's goin' through their head most days."
"... Imayalsohaveaccidentallysummonedaminordemononcebutyoudidn'thearthatfrommeand-" inhales "Anywayssoyoudidn'thearthatfrommedefinitelydon'ttellNellieohmygods." (It was a brief stint into summoning and spirit work that went disastrously.)
Baking - Beaver tails and bear claws and baklavas, oh my!
Gardening - She's very active in the community garden. Very active. "Plant your hydrangeas in a different row or I swear to the powers that be I will replant them there myself, Sheryl, I need this space for my lavender!"
Business management - You will not find a shred of nice-girl Cindy when she's talking business. What, did you think the fey was going to do anything? They just come up with the ideas, and it's Cindy's job to sigh and march into city hall for the third time this month to file a permit for a name change and yes, she is perfectly aware Caffeynated was named Full Moon Coffee two weeks ago, but the full moon is coming up again and the decorations are gonna go up anyway and she could just bother her partner again if you'd prefer that? No? Alright, it's Full Moon Coffee now.
Memory - Some bakers have a cookbook. Some witches have a grimoire. Cindy doesn't need either.
Multitasking - Baking is one thing. Baking several different things at the same time by yourself is something else.
Kitchen witchcraft - It's a lifestyle, really. Crystals on the windowsill, different colored and scented candles everywhere, salt over the shoulder when it's spilled, infusing all the baking ingredients for the day with magical intent. Luck loaves, protection pastries, and glamour-glazed donuts are her favorites to make.
Animation - Imagine the dancing brooms in Fantasia. That is all.
Binding - Binding bagels are made to order and off the menu.
Hexing - Just because she hasn't done it yet doesn't mean she doesn't know how to.
Failures and flaws
Nosy, manipulative, narrow-minded, gullible, and easily distracted all at the same time. She can be laser-focused to a nearly obsessive degree when she wants something or wants know what's going on with someone, but outside from that she's hopelessly oblivious.
She has a tendency to overwork herself and assume sole responsibility for things that are out of her control.
Full name: Lucifuge Rofocale
Age: Immeasurable eons.
Race: Demon (Possessing a tainted human body)
Occupation: Dealer of the left hand path powers (professional scam artist)
Lucifuge is currently in the possession of a short but rather well-groomed and professional looking man with a chiselled look to him. He’d fit in perfectly with human society where it not for the fact that his possession of his victim shows quite clearly. Skin as black as the night with hair to match and eyes better befitting of a hawk than a man.
This all gives him a rather intimidating appearance. Like that school teacher who you never failed to hand homework in for. However, this is often offset by his constant fussing over his professionally tailored suit and hair.
One has to ensure they look as good and professional as possible before they damn your soul to an eternity in the abyss afterall.
A demon capable of both having a god-complex and crippling insecurity at once, Lucifuge is often described by his contemporaries as “manipulative, utterly unhinged, self serving and wrathful,” but he strongly contests this. Well, he would contest it if those who said such false statements were still alive anyways. Tragic, mysterious ends to their lives have prevented him from getting an official apology.
In truth, Lucifuge is a man who very much does value order in all things, however he would never go as far as to “strip the flesh from a person’s bones” if they ever failed to conduct themselves in a civilised manner like others say. He’d simply gently correct them. The ego that he has is perfectly healthy and he is very much capable of treating humans he encounters better than “dirt” despite the fact that they were literally created from it.
There are a great many things people would like and appreciate about him if they simply looked past the surface. Yet no one ever takes note of how benevolent he is, handing out unstable dark powers to the unwilling and unknowing. Not a thank you has ever been given to him for his noble charity. Nor have people congratulated him on his ability to not wipe your puny, insignificant, unmeaning and useless soul from existence for failing to realise his greatness. It’s unfortunate really, that so many fail to reach out simply because they hear he is of demonic blood and the tale of him supposedly destroying a flourishing civilisation on the cusp of greatness because someone failed to pronounce his name properly.
One of the original angelic beings created by God in order to oversee the protection of the cosmos, Lucifuge would say that it is difficult to recall a past that was lived so long ago. However, in truth he just says this because he’d rather not have people finding out he has massive daddy issues and a level of hidden insecurity that would make the denizens of the internet look as if they were reflections of Moab herself.
An esteemed Power who believed he deserved to do more than what he was doing as a result of his capabilities, he was amongst the many Angels (but the only Power) to go against God when Satan attempted his rebellion. Unfortunately for him, even the mighty powers bestowed upon him when created were not enough to turn the tide. For his transgressions, he was cast down to the pits of hell, stripped of his wings, original name and much of his power.
Luckily for him however, humanity is filled with fools who think that they deserve better despite being insects in the grand scheme of things. It is through them that he found a way to start amassing power once again. He cast an imp to whisper his name into the ear of a maddened prince and through his rabid ravings, the existence of Lucifuge became known to all. With this knowledge, the desperate and forgotten called to him, begging for power and patronage. Exploiting their need for more, he granted them gifts. When the time came, he took it back and more, gorging himself on their souls, taking their knowledge and their very self for his own.
It is through this method that he slowly ascended in status. The crown of hell became his for a time and with his great shadow he cast a pox down upon the lesser people, letting them become desperate before he came to their aid.
Yet with power, status and notoriety comes watchers. His heavenly brethren, those responsible for protecting fragile man, had looked upon his vile misdeeds and judged him as dangerous, a threat to the balance.
They waited for a time and once Lucifuge spent his energy casting a great civilisation, wiser and more devout than their fellow men, into the tides for their insults against his name, they struck. With sword, spear and heavenly word, they shattered his bloated being. The body with which he acted with was dashed to pieces. The shards crushed into sand and cast into the desert so as to devour the heat of the sun and burn the feet of sinners. With his soul, they dragged it to perdition, hopeful that for the rest of eternity, he’d be damned to suffering and agony.
Tragically for them, their immense efforts were for aught. For a fuckwit teen, filled with mountain dew, loneliness and the need for poontang rifled through the attic of his creepy grandpa in hopes of finding something to impress the rather big chested goth girl in his science class. In it, they found a musty old grimoire, made of human flesh and lined with the bones of baby birds with warnings carved into the ruddy, squirming flesh. These warnings would’ve been effective had they not been in the tongue of a dead language long forgotten. One would’ve thought the disturbing look of the book would deter someone, yet hormones conquer all.
Opening the pages, the foolish and horny teen found themselves uttering words that they couldn’t recognise in some vein hope of understanding it all. Yet, understanding was not something they got. Instead, all they got was a demon, wrathful and somewhat insane after his stay in hell for millennia. They were quick to regret their choices in life, but Lucifuge was quicker in taking their body for his own.
Now having returned to the world in his entirety, Lucifuge seeks to regain his lost power and learn more about how this ball of maggot-infested dirt has changed in his absence. However, he moves with a careful foot, wary of drawing the attention of his undamned brethren. With this in mind, he carves his way through the small towns of America and taking what he can before moving again. He makes sure to cover his tracks this time, and seeks allies or assets in his mission.
With this in mind, he has come to the town of Aldenburg, a pretty place filled with ugly people.
Ripe with magic.
Hopefully not ripe with Angels.
Daddy issues like you’ve never seen.
Crippling insecurity that somehow manages to be matched evenly with the ego of a teaching assistant made temporary teacher for a class of unsuspecting teens in religious studies.
A fondness for business suits. He just thinks they look neat.
Unironically thinks doing taxes is fun.
Steals fancy pens from tired office workers when they least expect it
Good at keeping clean and grooming himself. Also others if forced.
Quite good at convincing people to accept the powers being offered from someone who definitely isn’t human and probably isn’t as friendly as he says he is.
Good at looking as if he’s not about to literally murder everything around him because someone breathed improperly whilst in his presence.
Speaks a dozen languages.
Uses the magic of ritualistic Kabbalah. Specifically specialises in the Qliphoth side, where he is master and ruler of the branch Sathariel. The art of illusions and concealment. Can grant lesser knowledge and skill in this art, for a cost.
Clairvoyance. Eyes of discernment and truth allow him to see past glamour and illusion alike. They also allow him to analyse things in obsessive detail.
Can call upon demons of a lower caste in order to assist him.
Skilled at possession. Standard demon practice really.
Failures and flaws
Temper tantrums and mood swings that would make five year old's who were denied their rightful cookie look like calm and reasonable people.
Clairvoyance allows him to analyse things in obsessive detail. This results in him being irked at the slightest of imperfections.
An ego that is capable of being stoked rather easily in order to get on his good side.
None of the languages he speaks are spoken by people anymore.
Full name: Lucille Argent
Occupation: College Student
Dark brown wavy hair and light blue sullen eyes give Lucy an interesting appearance. She takes care of her looks as best she can, like most girls her age, bold makeup and eyebrows, with a leaning to reds and shadows. If she didn't look so tired all the time she might be more approachable.
Measuring 5'10", Lucy has an average figure, she could probably do with toning more, but she's comfortable with herself and happy that she looks good in most outfits, even if she sticks to t-shirts and jeans for most of the time. She has her ears pierced several times in various places, and has a birthmark in the shape of a flower on her right thigh
Timid: Lucy deals with a lot every day, whether it's malicious spirits or odd looks from her classmates judging the local weirdo, she's dealt with it by shying away from most things, because she's found when she does stand up for herself, things don't go well. Occasionally she does find herself backed into a corner, much to her horror when the spirits rise to her emotions.
Hopeful: Life isn't all bad, and Lucy is well aware that it can get better. By herself, when times are peaceful, she can be found humming a tune and enjoying the world around her for what it is. She especially enjoys watching the stars lazilly drift across the sky on moonless nights.
Awkward: Lucy hasn't had many friends growing up, socialising has been hard most of her life. And even when she tried, the chances that the other kids didn't already know she was "that weird one" were slim. She's shy, but she's not mean. Lucy tries when she thinks it's worth it.
Creative: Having a lot of time to "herself" meant that Lucy had to find ways to have fun. She found that painting, writing, and music were great outlets.
Every town has one or two, the loner kids that people think will shoot the school up one day. Usually they're just from shitty backgrounds or are bullied relentlessly by their peers, maybe both. Lucy wishes it were that simple. Ever since a car accident at 12 years of age that momentarily caused her heart to stop Lucy has been able to interact with spirits as if they were in the same plane of existence as her own, the down sides of which are suitably obvious. As any woman will tell you, puberty is scary at the best of times, couple that with "monsters" who threaten to eat your dog and classmates while you can only watch, to only laugh at you and disappear into the shadows, it would mess anyone up. Especially when one day you wake up to find said dog, drenched in blood only you can see, whimpering cries of pain only you can hear, as a shadow of teeth and laughter grins from the corner of the room.
Things have gotten better, or rather calmer, over the years. The spirits are more varied in appearance and intentions, some good, some bad, but most are ambivalent to her existence if she ignores them.
Getting through high school without getting sectioned, Lucy has since started college studying art.
Through middle school, one of her classmates moved. The girl bullied Lucy relentlessly, to which Lucy wished she would just disappear. To this day she is convinced that the spirits forced that family out of town.
Art is more than a hobby for Lucy, she hopes one day she can be good enough to make a living from it… But she still hopes she can paint the spirits she sees and not be judged.
Sometimes she wishes she could be normal, get drunk with other people her age, go to parties, let loose, but she's scared about what would happen if she lost control.
Painting: Lucy is a very decent painter. She's no expert, but her work has received some good comments online. Her college classmates still think her stuff is weird though.
She doesn't do it often, but Lucy has a good singing voice. On the occasion that she feels at peace enough to do so, the spirits have seemed very happy.
Despite the bags under her eyes, or maybe because of, Lucy is a dab hand at makeup and styling her hair.
Lucy is a medium. It took her a number of years to work out that she wasn't cursed, and that she was merely still in contact with the spirit realm she almost joined. Her "gift" allows her to converse with and see spirits, whether these are denizens of the spirit world, or the spirits of people who have crossed over, or even darker beings who have crossed into the spirit realm from a deeper plane, Lucy can interact with these beings as if they were corporeal. The more she focuses on the spirits, the "realer" they become.
Her gift has up sides, most spirits are simple creatures and are willing to help purely for their own amusement, others demand an exchange for larger tasks. Spirits who have befriended her often warn her of danger or seek information for her, they may help with tasks, or simply keep her company.
Failures and flaws
Spirits are not all nice, like people, many have shitty personalities and much worse intentions. They are all also very independent beings. Whether it's down to her emotional state, or the emotional state of others, she isn't sure, but bad feelings attract bad spirits. These spirits may choose to help her or hinder, it depends on how much chaos they enjoy…
Lucy finds that the more malicious spirits are much more trouble than they initially appear to be, often the repercussions of their actions are far reaching, despite their power.
Full name: Rayda Ann Valence Age: Twenty Gender: Female Race: Werewolf Occupation: Organic green grocer
Modest, shy and gentle, Rayda stands at a feeble 5' 3'', 107 lbs, a wisp of a girl that despite being cheerful and smiling at others, also seems to be always nervous and fearful of something, actively trying to remain out of sight. A medium golden brown hair that's always seem tied in a single braid and a pair of light blue eyes so soft that they appear grey under certain lighting, only seem to add to the impression of frailty she gives out.
A country girl through and through, Rayda has a huge liking to long dresses and skirts, with conservative, yet pretty and inviting designs and patterns. She's not very fond of shorter or bolder clothes, preferring to wear something more humble and less showy. You'll never see her in sleeveless shirts, bright colors or fancy fabrics and short sleeves have always to come with a plus, maybe frills maybe something else that gives them a little more protection.
If she were to wear something shorter, depending on the attire, people would be able to see a couple scars, most notably a vicious animal's bite mark by her right shoulder, ever painful and recent-looking as if it had been a current month occurrence, not something from eight years ago.
During the full moon, Rayda becomes a massive, powerful wolf-creature, capable of standing at its hind legs, with brown and black fur, the same shade of blue eyes from her human form, prominent sharp claws, fangs and a notable lack of a tail.
Tormented by mistakes of the past she's assumed as her fault, Rayda has grown melancholic and overly anxious with time. Deeming herself dangerous, Rayda avoids approaching people too much, looking them as if they were made of glass and capable of breaking with a touch. Similarly, she's extremely jumpy when approached by others, always trying to keep a certain distance from them, or at last measuring her every move very carefully. The girl is quick to apologize and take the blame for things, even if the concerned party has already said it's fine. It's never truly fine, it's just flattery.
Rayda can't tell why she's still alive or what the point of it even is. She's just resigned to living after being unable of following up with multiple attempts to end it. If anything, Rayda takes her life as a punishment, atoning for the terrible things she has done, which makes her a very helpful person. Too helpful, constantly putting herself in deadly situations, secretly hoping to die. The smallest mistake, anything that may cause her to flashback and remember her current 'condition' brings about intense self-deprecation, melancholy and suicidal wishes. Though she'll attempt to hide these from sight, when by herself, Rayda has a propensity to give in to self-harm as a way to alleviate her crushing guilt and regrets.
Horrified at what people might think of her if she were to let her struggle and broken psyche come to light, Rayda puts a cheerful facade in public, reminiscent of the old her, a gentle, innocent, helpful and generous young woman, upbeat like a ray of sunshine. An act that leaves her heartbroken at every new occurrence, yet that she just can't muster to drop. Any attempts to help her or direct approaches to the subject get ignored and shut down instantly if they're noticed. This is her hell to pay, hers and no one else's. Rayda is determined to pull through it on her own.
From a little countryside town of supernatural hunters, kept much like an isolated village somewhere in Lousiana, Rayda lived with her older brother. The pair had been rendered orphan at a young age when their dad didn't return from a hunt and, a couple years later, their mom had thrown herself in front of the two to shield them from the attack of a creature that had breached the town's security. Growing up in this circumstances, the two siblings were adopted by the townsfolk. The brother, harnessing a strong distaste for the supernatural, cast aside the rest of his childhood insisting on and on and eventually succeeding to become one of the youngest members of the hunters ever.
Meanwhile, Rayda, being too young to understand much at the time of the happenings and not allowed contact with any 'hunter exclusive knowledge' by being female, just had one wish: to be just like her big brother! In her bright, innocent and naive eyes he was an example to be followed: dedicated, hardworking, kind; always the coolest, the bravest, the fairest, the most generous; incapable of doing anything wrong and good at everything. She truly idolized him, even going as far to bend the rules a bit by making herself bows and arrows from leftover materials from the woods and practising with it in secret from everyone else.
Instead of playing-pretend like the other kids, she'd practice all day hoping to one day being so awesome at archery that the other would have to let her join the hunters too! Once her favorite place behind the barn had been found out, stubborn little Rayda had started dodging the townsfolk to escape deep within the forest, completely out of sight, to practice. Peaceful as it may be, the girl had failed to consider how dangerous straying away from the village could be, which didn't take too long for her to get to experience beforehand.
The morning had started like any other. Rayda bid her brother goodbye as he left on to join the other hunters in patrol, ate her breakfast, picked a basket filled with pre-made sandwiches, her handmade bow and quill filled with arrows made from sticks and pointy rocks and off she went to practice, making sure not to be seen or followed. To be honest, the only thing out of normal had been the fact that she had been able to hit the makeshift target not just once, but twice! Filled with proud and extremely fired-up at the prospect of getting better at it, the girl had practised even harder, merely making a break to eat and going back at it as soon as she was done. She had been so focused at the task that Rayda had not noticed when the sun started setting behind her.
Suddenly it was late, too late to be wandering in the woods all alone...
Running on her way back had proven unsuccessful as night had caught up to her mid-way.
...It all happened too fast.
The forest had fallen into an untypical silence, a growl and a pair of vicious yellow eyes peeking from the bushes. When Rayda was able to process what had just occurred, she could see an enormous, odd black wolf, illuminated by the moonlight, had her pinned to the ground, her quill had been knocked aside, scattering arrows on the grass. Terrified, the girl just laid there frozen as beastly eyes watched her attentively as if assessing her reactions, it lowered its head, slowly, saliva dripping from its sharp teeth and into her dress. At this point, Rayda was praying to both angels and demons for salvation and apologising for anything she had ever done, convinced that it was the end, but when the animal's teeth sank on her shoulder adrenaline and self-preservation spoke louder. Reaching for an arrow on the floor, the girl jabbed it into the beast's eye without thinking twice, making a run for it once the creature let go, a howl of pain echoing almost instantly.
Rayda did not look back, assuming that the wolf was also giving chase once she could hear the sound of rustling grass and stomping behind her. Zig-zagging in-between the trees, Rayda had run like never before, only focused on getting to her village alive. Oh, heavens! If she survived she'd never ever ever leave her town again!! NEVER!! And then there was a hole right in front of a trees' roots. Instead of climbing over those, Rayda found herself sliding down an opening, falling face first into a mound of dirt. The creature had even scurried inside with its big paws, trying to make the entrance wider, but failed to do so as its claws barely chipped away at the rocky underground wall, giving up after a while. The girl had taken a couple breaths, finally feeling calmer and safer, before she felt her vision blur and passed out due to blood loss.
She had awakened back at the town and would have believed it all to be a dream if it wasn't for a very worried, yet angry, brother waiting beside the bed. Apparently, he had started a rescue party to search for her once he noticed she was missing and the dogs had found her unconscious in a cold, damp, cavernous hole, dirty, with cuts, bruises and a ragged, bloodstained dress. Maybe it had been the avalanche of lectures that had followed, or the adults acting as if they knew more than her again, or a rebellious streak at the fact that she was grounded until "she learned to be responsible", or even something else, an unconscious fear she wasn't completely aware of, but Rayda had not shared the details of her adventure or made any mentions of her past night encounter. If anyone had been suspicious, they hadn't said a thing and had been just as guilty as her.
She really didn't know any better, she couldn't have known-
A month later Rayda would transform for the first time, making a festive occasion into a massacre, the town who had been ready to defend from an outside attack, utterly powerless and taken by surprise when the enemy came from inside instead. The girl would wake up deeper in the woods, a couple of feet away from the town, a chunk of time between sunset and now seemingly lost, not mention unusually fatigued after a supposed night of sleep. In her still rather drowsy state, Rayda made her way back, appalled at the sheer destruction and gore of the whole thing. not even the kids had been spared and that which was once a celebratory bonfire seemed to have escaped it's boundaries and consumed some houses. Carefully stepping through the rubble of wood, broken glass and god knows what else, the girl eventually found her brother, also the rest of the hunter's party. Apparently, they had come back from their 3-day incursion a bit earlier and Liam had driven their attacker away, though not without harm.
For the next days, Rayda had watched as the remaining townspeople (mostly those that had been away on other duties) started the cleanup after a first day filled with mourning. Rayda herself even helped a bit before her odd lack of energy caught up to her again and she felt forced to stay in her bed. From both her brother and overhearing conversations, she came to learn what a werewolf was and whatever little information they had gathered about them on the hunter's tome. Rayda's mind had travelled back to her night on the woods and the enormous black wolf that had almost killed her, however bits of sounds and images, like lost, scattered memories kept popping here and there, panicked, horrified screams, animal sound and- terrible, terrible things, always from a point of view that could not be hers... could it? The more time passed, the more doubts pilled up on her, with the girl ultimately deciding that if there was any possibility that she had been the perpetrator of the incident, that her village and more importantly, her brother would be better without her.
In a solitary, extreme plan of action, Rayda left her home behind, talking no more than a few change of clothes and a rustic necklace, with a blue stone carved in a drop shape that had once been her mom's. Living by herself in the forest was difficult at first, yet always the crafty one, Rayda had grown to use of the natural materials at her disposal to craft traps, weapons and the like. As the memory gap and broken bits of records kept occurring, Rayda became more and more aware of how dangerous she could possibly be, moving ever so frequent that no one could locate her and that in case the beast, or whatever it emerged she would not cause problems to nearby cities. At least she had tried it, yet the creature had managed to find its way into civilization one or other time, forcing her to move quite abruptly. The dead count kept raising and with the ever-haunting presence of the curse, Rayda's tomboyish, courageous personality withered into anxiety and fear as she came to learn more about her new state. She's tried to end it too, so so many times, but to no avail...
Aldenburg was at the start meant to be just one more stop, a temporary visit, but Rayda came to fall in love with the place and its people, that had taken her in oh so warmly, becoming attached to it enough that she made everything in her power to get to stay. The cottage where she lives? Afforded with a mix of money acquired from poor souls that had fallen victim to the beast and a small loan that the girl is yet to pay. With the constant help of neighbors and kind townspeople, Rayda has come this far, no longer a starving, wandering child in the woods, but the owner of her own small, if not satisfactory and pleasant business. She could almost, almost forget how much her presence is a danger to these people and enjoy herself, almost; Though the cruel full moon would never allow such a thing, coming back month after month, always a looming reminder of sins past and new possible mistakes future, keeping the poor girl always on edge.
Under the furthermost wall of Rayda's house, beside the heater and covered by a sepia-toned carpet is a trapdoor to the basement. Emptied out and reinforced in the inside, Rayda refers to it as 'the bunker' and locks herself down there at every new full moon night, ever since the last method of chaining herself to the heater failed for its first and last time, though the marks of that time remain on the wood. Down there one can see tally marks of how many nights by a corner, as well as scratches all over the walls and floor, presumably done by the werewolf trying to escape its cage. The very need for something this elaborated makes Rayda extremely ashamed, for it is the physical embodiment of her internal struggle.
Though hating to hide things and lie to others, Rayda's inability to accept her current state has brought her to do so many, many times. To explain the period of 3 to 5 days where she disappears from sight every month, the girl has said that she has a health 'condition' that kicks in periodically. When neighbors and acquaintances started showing up to her door with cookies and other things to help with the 'sickness', she found herself forced to leave a colorful box by the garden to collect the goods, including a sign that politely asked them to not leave objects bound to expire in a week since she might not be able to get to them before they go bad.
To explain the ridiculous frequency with which she would buy construction materials, most notably wooden planks and nails, Rayda said she was into carpentry and wood carving when actually, she boards up her doors and windows at every new full moon cycle, replacing the weak and scratched ones once in a while.
Rayda can't pass by a butchery or the meat section of a market without getting flashbacks and being sick to her stomach. It isn't exactly vegetarianism as she'll still eat food with meat on them, but the sight of all that raw sliced meat and blood is not something she can stomach and makes her extremely gloom afterwards. She doesn't cook with meat as well for similar reasons, though pre-cleaned chicken and fish are okay, as long as they don't bleed in front of her.
Archery: An habit that was never dropped. Rayda grew up to eventually buy a good bow, as opposed to the one she had built as a child. With warm memories of easier times in her heart, the girl never stopped training on it, getting slightly better at handling the bow and holding the arrow steady. It also makes for good intimidation when a normally sweet lady comes at you with a determined expression and a bow and arrow. Trespassers beware.
Gardening: Everything started the day Rayda decided to stop moving and plant the seed of an apple she had, now what was once just curiosity and fascination has become a well-loved activity that she makes a living from. In the front, arrays of flowers and other plants adorn a little simplistic wooden house and in the back, Rayda tends for fruits and vegetables that she sells in the town, always without a drop of chemicals. To the few people that have become reoccurring clients, Rayda even makes home deliveries.
Trap-making: A left over from both her childhood and her life in the woods, Rayda knows an array of different knot techniques and can, for example, craft a net from ropes and/or vines. What was once used to catch animals, store her belongings and ensure her survival, these days are employed as rustic anti-thief alarms and to protect her crops from wild animals or just curious kids, none of which will come to any harm. Probably just get a scare, or two.
Quarentine Needed: Opposed to the excuses she uses, Rayda has never actually indulged in carpentry work. What she's gotten quite efficient at doing with time, however, it's boarding up an entire house in less than 30 minutes. Guaranteed to be sturdy enough to take a raging bull! ...Or just a huge wolf-creature hitting its body against it. All it requires is some wooden boards, nails, a hammer and we're ready to go!
Reliable: Ask for help and she'll be there! Though while having intentions other than just good 'ol altruism, Rayda is almost always up for dropping whatever she's doing at the moment to assist someone in need, even dangerous things she's not that knowledgeable about. She's also quite strict when it comes to promises and plans she's made with others, being extremely punctual with meeting times or deadlines and following up with the promised thing no matter what.
Killing Machine: Intended to be a predator through and through, werewolves are notably stronger, faster and more resistant than normal humans. With enhanced strength, they're capable of dealing deadly blows that can break through wood and striking down trees, their enhanced speed and senses make them incredibly fast capable of reading a prey's or attacker's movement by the sheer twist of their musculature, predicting what a next move may be, locating them by nothing but the sound of a sheer breath or even their accelerated heartbeats. Nocturnal creatures, they can see, smell and hear like their animal counterparts, yet are smarter than normal wolves and possess stamina enough to go on a rampage for hours without a rest, making them just that more dangerous.
Healing: Though not capable of feats such as regenerating lost limbs, werewolves' have an extremely fast healing factor that will close cuts and fix wounds in a matter of seconds. Their hides are also thick enough to resist low calibre bullets without minding them, needing higher power guns to actually harm them.
Claws and Fangs: Not much to say about these. They're pointy and deadly and do what you'd expect them to do, bite out and rip apart flesh like a child's play.
Failures and flaws
Silver: Metal werewolves are extremely vulnerable to. It will burn them upon touch, cut like knife on butter, take a normal amount of time for wounds inflicted with it to heal, leaving a scar behind, and act as a poison once inside their system, making silver bullets extremely deadly to them.
Wolf's Bane: Scientific name, Aconitum lycoctonum, is a highly toxic plant endemic of Europe and Northern Asia, with purple flowers, that is often added to bait to poison and kill wolves, thus the name. It is said to either repel or kill a werewolf, though Rayda wouldn't know anything about that. What she can tell you, however, is that its annoying, strong, flowery smell is very disruptive and will give her a headache in long term. The further enhanced senses in her werewolf form will perceive the scent ever more prominently, confusing its sense of smell and temporarily disorienting the beast. Other strong smells will have similar effects, though none nearly as effective.
Say 'cheese': One of the disadvantages of being a nocturnal creature. Bright flashes of light, from camera flashes to turning a flashlight on directly at the beast's eyes, will temporarily blind it giving others time to escape while the werewolf is disoriented and awaiting for its vision to readapt to the dark. Disadvantages of this technique? It normally results on an angered werewolf.
Pots and pans: With its heightened senses build to grab even the lowest of sounds, werewolves don't like a lot of noise. To be quite frank, it is distracting, annoying and painful to their ears when people start making a rucks, especially if it's composed of high pitched and multiple clanking noises. Be prepared for the creature to flail around and come straight at the source of sound to make it stop though. When I say they don't like it, I mean they really really don't like it.
Flammable: Fire, that which has allowed civilisation to settle in remains being one of the strongest weapons in one's arsenal. Werewolves' fur is extremely flammable, having the tendency to spread beyond the area of contact and engulf the whole beast if they're not careful enough. As such, they're naturally scared of fire to the point of fleeing if they seem to be in big danger. Burns also don't heal like most wounds leaving the area furless, vulnerable for the remainder of the night and scarred for days until full recovery.
Pre-suffering: The week of a full moon is a living hell for Rayda. By the influence of both the curse and her own natural nervousness, Rayda is rendered restless and incapable of slowing her mind down a day prior. She becomes more emotional, prone to mood swings, sudden anger and violence spikes as the approach of the full moon reinforces more animalistic behaviors. Insomnia is a common side-effect too, forcing the girl to be fully awake until 'the time' comes. On the next morning, passed the shift, Rayda is absolutely spent as if the restlessness and lack of sleep from the days prior all caught up to her at once. Frequent night terrors and depression definitely don't help her situation.
Unbeknownst to Rayda herself, especially since she's used to isolating herself, her personal scent also changes during this period becoming more predatory, wolf-like and causing animals to either just straight flee or put themselves in a submissive, frightened posture. It's possibly going to break her heart if she ever comes to realize it.
Loss of self: With the rise fo the full moon, Rayda is put into a bit of a trance as the shift takes place. If freed, the werewolf will solely act upon an insatiable hunger and its animal instincts, stalking viable prey, attacking anything that moves and just overall leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. It is possible to calm it down, lull it with music, drawing it back to sense of security, but it is no easy feat as a threatened werewolf is a rather volatile creature to deal with.
In the morning, Rayda won't be able to recall much beyond broken images and sounds that come and go with the right triggers, not unlike PTSD.
Attonement: Deeming her continued existence purgatory and constantly working to pay for her sins, Rayda is a bit of martyr, always throwing herself in front of danger, volunteering for dangerous work and what-not. She makes sure that no one nearby is going to come to harm as she does so, insisting others to step back and just let her handle it. Luckily for Rayda, her healing factor can deal with almost all the damage she might come to suffer, but on the other hand, it has only been engaging this kind of reckless behavior further and even fuelling some self-harm tendencies.
My brittle world: Enhanced stamina and the healing factor are great assets to have, but when it comes to her enhanced strength, Rayda would prefer if it had a turn off button. No matter how careful she is being, there will eventually be a slip here and there, a moment of over-excitement, a startle, and then whatever object is nearby will pay the price. As a result of that, some of the girl's furniture and possessions had to be fixed/glued back together. This is one of the reasons she's so nervous around people. You can put objects back together when they break, but living beings? That's a whole 'nother different story...
Archery: Eh? Uhhh, why is this item also in the flaws section you ask? Well, it is because no matter how stubborn and passionate Rayda may be about archery, she isn't really good at aiming. The moment an arrow leaves her bow it becomes a dangerous gamble of 'where will it land this time'. If luck is on her side, she might make a spectacular shot at the intended target, but if not Rayda might just hurt herself while trying to look cool. Well aware of it, she's not going to be shooting arrows left and right, only in a true emergency.