[hider=Rhiannon Nicholson][INDENT][B]Name:[/b] Rhiannon Nicholson [B]Age:[/b] 19 [B]Gender:[/b] Female [B]Ethnicity/Nationality:[/b] Caucasian/American [B]Physical Description:[/b][INDENT] Despite Rhiannon’s tall and thin disposition standing at 5’9” and weighing in at 125 pounds, she isn’t lacking in muscle and strength. She has long brown hair usually done up in some kind of lazy braid with small trinkets of metal and whatnot. Her forehead’s a little large, but her momma used to joke that she should consider herself lucky she didn’t suffer from a peasant’s small one. Her eyes are dark and brown, narrow but not small, and her nose isn’t too prominent on her square jawed face. Like her forehead, her lips are straddling on the larger side, but it only makes nicer when her rested face decides to cast less of a smirk and more of a smile. Although, her family never did have the money for braces and whatnot. [hider=Picture][img]http://i133.photobucket.com/albums/q54/crayonxwhore/Mobile%20Uploads/IMG_0460_zpszciubdmq.png[/img][/hider][/INDENT] [B]Skillset:[/b][INDENT] Levelheaded Sewing/Tailoring Good at Following Directions [indent]Sewing & Tailoring Cooking Tinkering w/ Mechanics[/indent]Athletic & Tough [indent]Good Hand-Eye-Coordination High Stamina Take & Give a Few Punches [/indent]Handgun Accuracy (Needs Improvement) [/INDENT] [B]History:[/b][INDENT]Someone somewhere got bitten down the line in the Nicholson family. No one’s really sure who or when. It just happened, and that was that. The Nicholson family history was just a bit too hazy and unkept for anyone to really bother with it. Besides, it wasn’t like it was serving too much of an importance after a while, especially with the way things were going nowadays. Sure, there were small stories here and small stories there, but honestly, it was just the part about surviving that seemed to do the brunt of the work. It wasn’t like werewolves got a big gig in today’s society or anything. So, who really cared? Jack Nicholson sure didn’t. His father didn’t care, and his father’s father didn’t care. As far as Jack was concerned, no one ever had, and that was that. So, one day he met Sara, a nice looking werewolf. Well, maybe Sara was just alright. Okay, maybe more than alright, because damn, did she made his knees weak when he thought about her, and when he saw her, he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do but sweep her off her feet and marry her. So, that’s what he did. There was nothing really fancy about their marriage. They were simple people, and anything more would have cost too much. But they did love each other, so that was something. It also didn’t take too long before the marriage produced their first child, a girl, whom they named Rhiannon. She was a clever girl, maybe—at least, in their biased opinions as parents. She was special, as their only child. Jack was a little disappointed they hadn’t had a son, but he loved her anyways. She was his baby girl, and that was that. Rhiannon grew up hearing small legends about werewolves, just enough to keep her curiosity satisfied. She always thought of the Alpha as some imaginary wolf who never really existed. She kind of thought of him like the Christians who prayed to that guy in the sky that never answered them. It was kind of funny, actually. Every once in a while, Rhiannon’s momma would get them all dressed up nicely and go to one of those nice Christian churches. They didn’t believe a slick of it, but her momma didn’t want the neighbors thinking they were some sorta Pagans or whatever. It was usually just a two or so times a year ritual, and Rhiannon remembers the handmade dresses always being itchy and whatnot. She preferred running around outside and having fun, getting dirty. Luckily, this didn’t happen often. Her momma always told the folks living next door that work was tight, but Rhiannon has rather distinct memories of her parents not having work on Sundays. It wasn’t really a common thing to have, but no one ever questioned. Trust was a weird thing like that. Just like the trust her poppa had in that scary guy and sometimes his friends who showed up at nights asking for favors or something. They were called vampires, and her momma usually kept her from the stuff. It didn’t really matter how much was kept from Rhiannon, though, she still had lots of bad dreams of them as a child. Her poppa wasn’t usually a cowardly man or nothing, he was strong and big. He reminded her of Hercules but kind of smarter and what not. She usually felt pretty safe around him, like when the kids down the block made fun of her for being weird and whatnot. There really weren’t many times she didn’t feel safe around him, but these vampires were different. Her poppa always did what they said, even when she knew he didn’t want to. It was kind of weird to watch, as if her dad was somebody else when they told him stuff. It was like whatever they said was the law, and that was that. As a teenager, sometimes she’d still get a bit scared, like when she had one of those reoccurring nightmares that had the same ending no matter what she did. It was always a frustrating sleep, but Rhiannon always appreciated it not being a real thing. She got pretty used to them coming around, although she couldn’t say it was any less confusing. She asked questions, but the answers lead to dead ends. Maybe for a good cause or something. Just worry about herself, was what they said. It wasn’t all that easy as that, though. She was kind of a loner. The neighbors put up with her, but that was it. She knew why, so she let it slide. Besides, by the time she got to a good enough age, she didn’t have time for friends. She had to work like her folks. So, she picked up the same line of work as her momma, and did herself good with the needle and threads with the seamstress and tailoring ladies who had set themselves up in a small building right outside and down the road from her neighborhood. Gossip always came around when it was just a room full of ladies, and Rhiannon kind of thought she was getting a better education about her family here than back at her home. One of the ladies who worked with her momma and her was a werewolf, too. Her name was Ms. Claire. She was kind of a funny operator, but Rhiannon didn’t really mind like the other women did. It might of been because of she was a werewolf, too, but Rhiannon wasn’t too sure. Werewolves weren’t too popular around these parts so Rhiannon didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. Whatever it was, Rhiannon always took a good respectful liking to Ms. Claire. It must have been a wise decision because sometimes she’d tell Rhiannon heroic stories about werewolves. It was like once upon a time werewolves were important or something like that. Ms. Claire showed her real colors one evening, though. Something bad must of went down between her father and those vampire guys, because the next thing she knew she was being shuffled off to only that Christian God guy knew where (he seemed to know everything or something). Ms. Claire was hiding her from the scary guys because they wanted her for some trade or business or whatever. It was all pretty confusing, and Rhiannon never really knew what was happening. If she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, it wasn’t because she was trying to fool nobody. It was because they put too much wool over her eyes, and she forgot what she really was. But, there she was, being told about some Alpha werewolf. He was spoken about like some savior providing a safe haven to all who came to him. Rhiannon never really thought of herself in much turmoil until she thought long and hard about her childhood. It hadn’t been too bad, but it sure as hell hadn’t been right. Just graduated from high school at the time, a strange accomplishment Rhiannon held for herself, she made her way towards the Wild Hunt MC. One of Ms. Claire’s sons, Rooty, helped her out for a bit. She thought his face was kinda nice, but she didn’t think about it too much. He was too old for her anyways. It was kind of weird being displaced and being taken under by an Alpha. She always kinda thought of her dad as an Alpha in secret, but she knew better than to really believe it. Rhiannon had asked by Rooty didn’t stay. He said he didn’t give a flying flip about it and was just doing the family a favor. Rhiannon never really heard from her family, again. Although, she was kind of used to not knowing what was happening with them, anyways, and by the time she settled with the Wild Hunt, she really didn’t have much to complain about. So, that was that. [/INDENT] [B]Psychological Profile:[/B][INDENT]Rhiannon’s a laid back type of woman and doesn’t mind going with the flow. She likes to have a good time, although, she was a bit reluctant to pick up a bottle and drink from it when she first arrived on the scene. However, since joining the Wild Hunt, she’s learned to be a little more outspoken with her opinions and less reserved from the fear of frightening her company off. She’s a bit of a handy girl, too. Give her some instructions and she’ll fix or make whatever needs fixing. Granted, she ain’t no electrical engineer. She is a pretty athletic young lady, though. Her hand-eye-coordination and quick reflexes have made being in an MC one wild ride that she can’t never regret (and it’s not just having to do with the motorcycles). And so, now that her loyalty is placed, she can’t really say it’d go anywhere else but with the Wild Hunt.[/INDENT] [B]Equipment:[/B][LIST][*] ’67 Orange Suzuki Cobra [*] Silver & Black Smith & Wesson Model 36 Revolver [*] Camping Butterfly Knife [*] Supply Kit w/ Various Small Tools & Light First Aid Equipment [*] Water Canister [*] Leather (An MC jacket she embroidered herself & a pair of riding gloves) [/LIST][/INDENT] [/hider]