Jackson Johnson | Civilian

[/b][/font]
✧ Kind-hearted - He cares about people genuinely 
✧ Optimistic - He prefers to think of positive outcomes rather than negative, even when he's about to flunk out of math class
✧ Tactical - He likes to think give steps ahead at any time to be prepared for the worst

Negative:
✦ Doesn't like to be around too many people at once
✦ Low self-esteem
✦ Can turn off his emotions too quickly

[/ul]



Parents: Brenda Rose (O'Neil) Johnson - Mother, deceased; Sgt. Stanley James Johnson - Father, alive, retired.
Siblings: Angie Johnson
Other Family: Various aunts and uncles and cousins whom he only sees once a year
Important Others: Alex Lowell, seventeen - His best friend
History: Jack was born in Chicago, Illinois after his family had relocated for a while. Despite the surprising age difference, he and Angie were always very close. He grew up in a happy home with a loving family and couldn't really recall any complaints. When he was six, he was pulled from school. He doesn't recall much about his mother's death. All he remembers is the pain, the sorrow and, ultimately, the distance that grew between him and his sister. 

Time passed and his life continued without too much struggle or heartbreak. His father retired from the military and he continued school. In his freshman year of high school, he lost contact with his sister and began to worry. His dad worked long hours and left him often alone. So he'd gotten used to being alone, but that didn't help. Instead, he began to send emails to his sister. Most never got many answers. Alex told him he was crazy since his older sister was a teacher a state away so she was probably super busy. Naturally, Jack listened and began to put away any sense of worry.

However, when his senior year hit and not one word was exchanged still, he began to worry. So, during winter break, he drove to the small Iowan town that she taught at. He went to her apartment but no answer happened. Then he stumbled over her friend and fellow teacher Becky. She was confused to see him. Apparently, Angie had said she'd be gone a while as her father was fatally ill. Jack's heart dropped. Angie would never lie. After Becky gave him the information of where Angie was heading, he quickly jumped back into his truck and began to head out on the road, unknown to his father, to find his big sister, desperate to bring her home.




Alias: Just call me Angel
How did you find us?: The amazing Revan <3
Experience: About a decade or so 
Other Characters: Angie Johnson
RP Sample: 

The Beginning...

Angie swept back her hair from her eyes, putting a strand behind her ear as she glanced at the map she held on the steering wheel. From her research- and digging through her grandfather's things most of the summer- she was close. The witch she was after was only a few miles away at this point. Apparently she opted to live on a farm house, away from any unsuspecting humans who would stumble over her. And anyone who was stupid enough would never be found again. After all, a thousand things could happen out in the middle of nowhere. A frown creased her lips at that. Everything was just too perfectly set up. She wouldn't be surprised if the witch answered looking like an old woman. It would be a sick sense of irony that made her stomach flip. Humor in the moment was lost to her.

Turning the black truck down the gravel road towards a distant farmhouse, Angie quickly put the map on the passenger seat. It was only a mile away, but it felt like a lifetime. With her pistol hidden inside of the jacket she wore, she quickly adjusted her hair and her appearance to look like that of a ditzy college student who had lost their way. It was the only way she'd be able to get through the door. Inhaling for a moment, she reached in her pocket and pulled out a stick of gum to chew on, snapping and popping it to get in the feel of it.

Moments later, she parked her truck beside an older car in the driveway. Apparently brooms are out of style still. she thought sourly. The farmhouse was brightly colored with a wraparound porch. It looked like a grandmother's house with the lawn ornaments and everything. Tricky witch. She moved out of the truck and walked up to the door, ringing the doorbell before looking around, feigning interest. In all reality, she was looking for any exterior telltale signs of witchcraft. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. But inside would tell her different. A moment later, an older woman answered the door curiously, smiling a bit, clearly surprised. "Hi. Sorry to be a bother, but my truck is completely out of gas and my cell is out of service. Can I borrow your phone to call a tow truck?" The older woman nodded and allowed her in. The gun in her pocket felt heavy. At least with it being a farm house, no one would know what happened. Taking her first step into the house, Angie knew that there was no more going back after this. It was just the beginning.

[/div][/div]

[/div]