John Smith | Hunter

[/b][/font]
✧Talkative
✧Willing to give a helping hand
✧Loyal once you have his friendship

Negatives (At Least 3):
✦Doesn't know when to be quiet
✦Paranoid
✦Emotionally stunted

[/ul]



Parents: Mark Smith (Father), Matilda Smith (Mother)
Siblings: 
Other Family: Family dog, Alex
Important Others: 
History: He used to go through life with a laid back attitude, not bothering to do anymore than he had to to get through his job and life. He had applied for a defense job like air force, but he had failed basic training at the academy, leaving him a wash out. John applied to the police, actually putting in some effort.


He made the police force, but only by the skin of his teeth. He had been partnered with a doughnut loving cop, who more or less has the same attitude. To put in effort when you can, and to learn to let something go if a problem couldn't be fixed. During a domestic dispute, they had broken up the fight after getting a call and left it at that. But soon they had another report of another domestic dispute, but this time it had turned lethal.


Returning to the same house, the wife had murdered her husband with a baseball bat, claiming she had been possessed. Though the husband had been the aggressor, she was still arrested for excessive force. John didn't think much of it at the time, but while she was in the prison cell the woman kept pleading innocence, that some black smoke took possession of her, making her kill her husband. Eventually John google searched demonic possession. He even looked up some books at the local library finding the same answers.


Getting curious about the Supernatural side of things, he dug deeper and deeper into the books, trying to find out what else was out there. He came across some hunters a few times during his career but he had no idea who they actually were, believing the fake agents were really FBI or Homeland Security. It wasn't until he started going to some hunter hide outs, by accident at first, that he learned the difference between hunters and the real thing.


Slowly but surely he started taking on cases on the side, using his resources in the force to try to crack some cases. Some he solved, others he had reported to more experienced hunters. He soon stopped throwing up every time he dug a body to salt and burn the bones to end a ghost. Anything demonic, he left to the professionals.




Alias: Singing Doughnut
How did you find us?: Hellhound via yahoo messanger
Experience: What got so far from here
Other Characters: Tamara Young, Richard Calhoun, Tina Dukes
RP Sample: "Don't do that." called out over the top of her computer without even looking at a teen trying to dog ear a page in a library book. To her that was sacrilege. Tamara looked over the top of the monitor staring at the teen coldly until he merely shut the book and pushed it aside. Nothing was more sinful than a damaged book. She was angry before, but that just added to it. It had been more than a week since she heard from Matt. She was mad and worried that he had not called. It was not the first time he had gone more than a month without making contact. Either it was for her protection, or he just forget, she still couldn't help but worry. Worried that the next news report was of his body being found, or locked in prison for protecting someone.







Finally it was closing time. Tamara just locked the doors when someone grabbed her from behind. Gasping in fear, she spun around, trying to go for the mace in her bag when she saw it was one of Matt's hunter friends and shut her eyes, putting a hand over her racing heart. "Wear a bell next time." she said, looking up at him calming down now.







"And give up on these nights? I don't think so." Rick said with a smirk.





She lightly slapped his chest, pulling the strap up higher on her shoulder. "Got plenty of left overs, just needs to be reheated." With a grin, Rick walked Tamara to his car. He stopped by every couple of weeks for home cooking, otherwise it would be nothing but noodles and take out, which littered the floor of his car. "Still living clean I see." she said arching a brow as she lifted an empty burger wrapper and threw it over to the back seats.





"You know if I clean, you'd have nothing to complain about." he said with a cheeky grin. She scoffed, climbing into the car. "No wonder you and Matt get along so well." The smile slowly drained from her face. "Has there been any word?"







Rick had to look at the road as he pulled out from the side and started driving. He heard nothing from Matt either. "No. Not a word or peep. I'm sure he had lost his phone or been busy and lost track of time. " They were close friends, even been on a few hunts together when they came up against something more than one alone could handle.



She looked out the side window, lightly chewing on her thumbnail in worry, trying not to let her imagination get the better of her. Tamara was sure Matt was safe, just being his usual forgetting to call self. When he came home, he was going to be grounded until he turned forty.



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