Post by Amber Maes on Oct 18, 2020 21:53:50 GMT -5


Full Name: Amber Maes
Nickname/Alias: Ambie, Bams, Am
Age/Date Of Birth: 25 (1/13/1995)
Race: Human
Occupation: Hunter
Species Group: Hunter
Play-By: Elizabeth Lail
Abilities
Put all known abilities here. If your character does not have any abilities please remove this part from the application.
Special Inventory
Hallowed Event Perks

Likes (At Least 3):
❤ Coffee
❤ The beach
❤ Reading and learning new things
Dislikes (At Least 3):
✗ Mayonnaise
✗ Fake people
✗ Extremely hot weather
Fears (At Least 2):
☬ Death
☬ To end up alone
Goals (At Least 1):
★ Be as good of a hunter as her parents were.
★ One day meet someone who will get her the way her father understood her mother. Someone who gets “the life”
Personality:
At first, Amber might seem to be a little bit reserved, but she gradually shows who she is as she gets to know people: a confident, enthusiastic and intelligent woman with a sarcastic sense of humor. She is a tough girl, growing up in a family of hunters and having to learn how to adapt like a chameleon from a very young age. She learned how to shoot a gun when she was six and from there, she never stopped. Being a strong-willed person, even coming off as stubborn sometimes, she never listened to her parents when they told her to get out of the hunting life, to study and have a normal life; Amb idolized her father and wanted to be just like him, to be able to help people the way he and her mother did. She is brutally honest, not having anything to hide and not liking how people sometimes sugarcoat things just to avoid hurting feelings: honesty is, to her, the best policy. Also a very brave woman, she is often the one running towards danger instead of from it, which makes her a little bit reckless when it comes to people she cares about, her emotions sometimes making her act foolishly and irrationally, this also due to the fact that she is a very passionate woman. She is outgoing, always enjoying the moment and not really caring about what others have to say about her, she’s learned to live in the here and now because she knows that with her line of work? There might not be a tomorrow.
Traits
✧ Brave
✧ Outgoing
✧ Resilient
Negatives (At Least 3):
✦ Stubborn
✦ Sarcastic
✦ Reckless

Parents: Jonathan and Mariah Maes
Siblings: She’s an only daughter.
Other Family: Distant aunts and uncles. Her grandparents were important to her and are still role models but they died a while ago.
Important Others: None so far (open to connections)
History:
Hunting was the only thing Amber knew since the day she was born. Jonathan and Mariah Maes were both hunters who fell in love while working cases and driving across the country, and so when she was born, they decided to continue doing what they knew best. They tried settling down for a couple of years, at least until Amber could keep up with them traveling the time. Because of this, she was homeschooled and didn’t have many lasting friendships, even though wherever they went she always tended to meet other kids with whom she’d play while mom and dad were gone.
She was always very independent and tended to like exploring things that weren’t necessarily 100% appropriate for her age; her reckless nature getting her into trouble more than once while being a minor for drinking or doing other stupid things she shouldn’t have been doing. In her mind, with her parents being who they were, she was allowed not to follow the rules either, from time to time, and even if she did learn not to make herself too noticeable as years went by, a little bit of that rebellious nature stuck with her.
Her teenage years were spent learning how to hunt, going with her parents after monsters and just having as much fun as she could. Amber never resented her family for the life they’d given her, quite the opposite: her father was her favorite person and her hero, and her mother was the most caring, fearless and protective woman she ever met. She loved having a life that wasn’t dull or stuck into routine, and never doubted that she wanted to carry on the legacy of her family of hunters.
The one thing she wasn’t prepared for was her parents’ deaths. Am was 22 when it happened: they had been hunting a wendigo in Colorado, a particularly nasty creature that caught Mariah off guard, dragging her to its underground chamber. It drove Jonathan crazy, and he told Amber to stay put while he went to get her mother. She still regrets to this day that, for once, she listened to him, because neither of them made it back. Ambie managed to kill the creature, but it had been too late for her mom and dad; and it broke her heart to have to let them go. Thankfully, she was always a resilient person, growing up the way she did, Amber always knew this was how hunters usually went out: before their time, fighting and anonymously. She gave them a hunter’s funeral and then drove away.
The next few years were a little bit of a blur. Alone, Amber started turning into what her mother had always described as a “stereotypical hunter”: she started drinking, spending too much time at the bars and too little sleeping. She dedicated herself to her job and stopped trying to get close to people. She had always wanted to have someone, someone like her mother had had her dad. But even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself, her parents’ death had hit her like a ton of bricks and she was having a bit of a hard time admitting it to herself. She didn’t want to feel weak, so instead built walls around her, the caring and softer side hiding behind the sarcasm and witty comments. She learned not to let people in so easily and to keep her head in the game instead of dreaming about things that weren’t probable, if even possible, for her.
And one day, she had been driving her father’s Ford Raptor towards Lincoln, Nebraska, when suddenly the road changed. She did not recognize the woods around her, and the usual signs were nowhere to be seen. Something was wrong and she knew it, but as the black pickup truck kept moving as fast as it would go, the huntress tried to convince herself that it was just some misunderstanding. Maybe she’d taken the wrong exit? When she got to town and got out of the truck, the first thing she asked a random stranger was the name of the place. And then she knew something was wrong: Zeppelin City. Such a name would definitely be something she would have heard with how she’d been living on the road for all of her life… there was most definitely not a Zeppelin City in Nebraska.

Alias: Thea
How did you find us?: Disboard
Experience: Years.
Other Characters: Becca, Dot.
RP Sample:
The night was cold, colder than it should have been in the middle of summer even for New Orleans and its dense fog. It was a thing, the weather acting weird whenever the witches were at it and Thea knew that all too well, remembering how things were back when she was a kid. Back then she didn’t understand it, though, and the fact that her mother had decided not to take part of the coven made her even more of a stranger to the magic within her blood. But now? Now that her childhood was part of her past and after her parents got killed by the witches because of the very same reason that had made her a normal human being, unbeknown of her family’s roots… now she was back to get rid of them all. And it was cold, so cold that the air chilled her bones and made her shake; or maybe the shaking was due to the anticipation and the fear of what the blonde was about to face. She wasn’t an expert after all: only a twenty years old girl with a mission and the will to go through with it: kill the witches, kill them all.
So she walked down the street towards the Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1 where she knew the coven would be, the fog keeping her eyes from what was more than a couple steps ahead and the click-clacking of her boots the only sound as they hit the concrete of the road. No cars, no people, no animals. Black magic has that effect, you know? Keeping everything away when it’s acting and killing anything that tries to stand on its way. But the huntress was prepared. She’d gotten a very old gun, said to be forged in Hell itself and supposedly, it would kill any witch or monster or demon without a chance of them ever coming back. The Godkiller. So while walking, the young woman thought about how she’d gotten where she was: the way her aunt Patrice had tried to convince Allison —Thea’s little sister— to become a dark witch, a part of the New Orleans coven, how it had resulted in both sisters not talking to each other for over a year despite the elder Rogers’ attempts to fix things, to keep her baby sister from turning into such a pitiful, disgusting thing until there was no choice left but to kill every single witch in the coven. Her own family, her blood. But she was a hunter of the supernatural and killing things like the ones she was about to face? It was her duty. If only she’d been doing it for more than a couple months now…
But now she walked, her attempts to keep her mind from veering into memory lane and anxiety from spiking into higher and higher levels failing miserably… it had been too long since the last time she’d been in the city and the huntress never thought she’d come back, even less to kill the witches that she so desperately wanted to ignore and forget. And as her brain wandered and her thoughts became more and more erratic, the white, thick walls of Saint Louis No. 1 became visible little by little, the black gates opened as if inviting her in and the fog coming out of them almost as if it was coming from inside of it. Maybe it was, she was about to find out. Stopping to check the M1911 that was tucked at the small of her back with the bullets created especially to kill witches and then wrapping her hand around the belt that carried the holster that kept the Godkiller safe, Thea’s blue-green eyes finally glanced up to read the plaque with the cemetery’s name on it. Just a moment, one moment to decide whether she could do this or not, whether she could take on a dozen unnaturally powerful witches all by herself only driven by the anger and resentment, the pain they’d caused. Questioning herself, she breathed in deeply, frowned and cleared her throat as if trying to get rid of the feeling of a lump in there and finally, she took a step forward...
I Amber have read the site rules and understand them. The code word for the rules is: Batman
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