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Name: Amon R. Brandt
Age: 35
Race/Ethnicity: German
Supernatural Race/Species: Half human, half were-tiger



Personality: Amon is mild-mannered and a hard person to offend, waving off insults and jokes in an equally offhanded manner, as long as it is directed at him only, of course. Quick to banter with people he has been acquainted with before or anyone he is comfortable around, he is the sort of man that is easy to befriend, work alongside and open up to as long as he is not being his typical lazy self, which usually rubs some people the wrong way. He works best when sufficiently motivated and/or under pressure. If not, he is pretty lax and uninitiative until a superior gives him a command.

However, he is serious when he has an objective to work towards and will do whatever it takes to complete it. Amon believes that the law is right, and rules are placed there for a reason. He hates it when people try to find a way around it, twisting it so they will come off as innocent when they are clearly not. As someone working for a law enforcement organisation dedicated to protecting peace, he will not hesitate to use his authority to do what he thinks is right, may the culprit be human or supernatural. This attitude has made him an enemy in the eyes of some extremists supernatural beings who dislike him for not following his supernatural blood and fighting against humans, making him rather paranoid at times. Of course, his paranoia is justified in that he has to be very careful what he says and reveals in case he is ousted as a Supernatural and making him a target for Hunters like some of his unfortunate colleagues. Of course, he has been lucky so far, but luck eventually runs out, no matter who you are...

Because of his position and experience in Law Enfocement, he has grown to be rather perceptive and inquisitive. While this trait has gotten him into quite a few tight spots and trouble, it has proven to be invaluable when trying to avoid detection and suspicions.

History: When the first of his supernatural friends - a Dreamwalker by the name of Cilicia - was killed by an unknown murderer, Amon was nineteen, a recent graduate of high school and starting his first year in the Police Academy. He is the only child in the family, born to an ordinary police officer who now works as a mall's security guard and a chauffeur mother. For the first eighteen years of his life, his family was as normal as they could be. They were mostly absent from home, coming back in the evenings to either a cooked or bought dinner and catching up with each other during that short period before Amon would excuse himself, finish whatever work he had to do and head to bed. Life was repetitive, bland and mundane as can be, occasionally broken by rare days off or overseas holidays.

Amon grew up listening to the stories his father used to tell about his days in the law enforcement, the gory and simply inhumane things some people were capable of. From a young age, he dreamt to be like his father, working in the police force, keeping innocents safe and doing the righteous thing. Putting criminals behind bars and ensuring nothing befell the city he loves. When he was seven, he discovered his unique 'abilities' when a friend pulled a prank on him and trapped him in a school's storeroom. Despite the utter darkness, he could see as though it was merely evening. He went to school, read books and from listening to conversations all around, he knew it wasn't normal to be able to see in the dark. But that was not what scared him. Claws, sharp, shiny, long and protruding from beneath his fingernails made him scream in utter terror. The hollers drew his teacher, who took one look at his unnatural hands and merely sighed, shifting into a large wolf for a second before shifting back. Amon calmed down and as his shock receded, the claws retracting a second later. That became the little secret between Amon and his teacher, who disappeared a year later and her body found abandoned along the highway.

He kept quiet about this, living as though he was a normal human student. That was, until a month after his nineteenth birthday, the death of a friend of his, and coming back home for the summer holiday to his parents fighting. His father was yelling at his mother, getting more and more agitated by the second before fury made him lash out at his mother. It turned out his mother was a were-tigress, making him a half-were. His unnatural abilities started to make sense. This revelation did not sit well with his father, who proceeded to ignore his mother's existence and even began throwing judgemental looks and snide remarks at Amon. For half a year he ignored the sudden change in their household, attempting to mend the rift between his parents and himself. However, every attempt was shot down rather spectacularly by either of them. He gave up, losing himself in the Police Academy instead. The previously warm house became cold, and Amon began to see the world in a new light. He could see the light distinctions between humans and supernatural beings, personally bore witness to the aftermaths of several violent and bloody skirmishes between the Supernaturals and Hunters more than once. Little by little, as he worked his way up the chain, he began to classify people into four groups: the Hunters - ones who knew about Supernaturals and aimed to kill them. Two: the humans - oblivious individuals sometimes caught in the crossfire. Three: the Supernaturals - non-humans or humans with supernatural blood running through their veins who actively fought against the Hunters. Four: the Uncaring: those like him, whether humans or Supernaturals who are well-aware of the clashing factions but wants no part to do with it. Of course, there might be people who fell into none of these categories, but as far as he was concerned, these were the four main ones.

It was these conflicts that prompted him to enlist into the Crime Division for Mysterious Cases of the police force. To his utmost surprise, there were quite a few 'Uncarings' amongst them. In this Division, he was able to slowly come to terms with being neutral despite his mixed blood. He was twenty-four when he made his first arrest, a Hunter that was caught killing a presumed Supernatural. Since his victim did not change from human form in death, he was convicted of murder. That was also the year he moved away from home and got a tattoo of the Division number (XIII) on his neck.

Now at the age of thirty-five, he remains single, more scarred, paranoid and cynical than he was before, although he never lost his lax nature. An Inspector in the Division, he heads a relatively small team of twenty officers, and often work together with the friends he made over the decade as a peacekeeper.



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