With basically the max possible interest possible in terms of an RP, I did some writing (and also shamelessly stole the format for the CS from the last iteration of the SG).

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A DIY alchemist on the run from the vampire mob wanders into a supernatural detective agency and somehow gets a job.

[hider=Anna the Raver Alchemist]
[b]Name:[/b] Anna Kerensky, goes by Anna and sometimes Anya, usually when with family and close friends

[b]Age:[/b] 25

[b]Appearance:[/b] A dervish of excited energy and alchemical science, Anna does her best to dance through the bubbling arcane cauldron that is her life. Her hazel eyes shine bright with intelligent mischief and magically induced hallucinogenic distractions. Lightly chewed on lips, oscillate wildly between expressions depending on the present company and the current amount of drugs she has coursing through the blood in her veins. She has shoulder length hair the color of midnight that is dyed an ever shifting range of colors. Any effort to blend in is purely accidental and Anna prefers to surround herself with color. Her skin is pale and it is clear that she spends a minimal amount of time outside in the sun. Terrified of boring others, Anna keeps her lips and nails painted in dark shades or vibrant hues of neon. 

An esoteric dresser in her private life, Anna favors t-shirts bedecked with a kaleidoscopic array of neon colors, short skirts, and fashionably torn fishnet stocking. She has a penchant for accessories and pairs her clothing with florescent jewelry that dances with color when hit by artificial light. Favoring the elaborate, her footwear of choice remains black hologram platform shoes that sparkle brightly in the night.

In a professional capacity, Anna replaces bright colors with minimalist black, pairing a closet stuffed full of black t-shirts with slim black jeans and unremarkable canvas sneakers.

Across all domains of her life, Anna believes in wearing cool jackets and her prized possession is a well-worn leather jacket embroidered with a black cat and words in a very faded neon stitch work that looks to be a name written in Cyrillic.  

[b]Concept:[/b] Anna is a self-taught alchemist of the "do it yourself" variety, unburdened by stuffy professional organizations such as wizard councils, safety regulations, and anything approaching a realistic appraisal of her own abilities. Increasingly afraid of the things that go bump in the night, Anna has recently survived a series of particularly poor interactions with vampires, having found herself captured and drained of a significant portion of her blood by coven of vampires preying on the local rave community. Escaping with no small amount of trauma and an unfortunate addiction to vampire blood, Anna has taken to burying the memories from her unwilling jaunt into the darkest shadows of the supernatural night through self-medication, imbibing in drugs both mundane and magical whenever the opportunity presents itself. 

Running scared, Anna shares precious few of the lofty goals of other magical practitioner. Although discovering the philosopher's stone and achieving immortality through perfect alchemy still holds an inescapable appeal to the young woman, most days Anna simply aspires to get paid and to stay beneath the radar of the terrible monsters that she knows are lurking just beyond the light.

[b]Powers/Skills:[/b] Anna is a skilled chemist and alchemist. To pay her rent, she operates as a professional alchemical consultant, offering her services to private individuals and organizations willing to pay in hard cash or precious metals. In her spare time, Anna is the creator of an exponentially growing number of extremely potent magically infused drugs that she reserves almost exclusively for her own use. Gifted with a mercenary mentality, Anna avoids asking too many questions of her elicit clientele, especially when it comes to love potions or the occasional poison. A combatant only in terms of creativity, Anna prefers to run away from any trouble, especially when violence is in the mix.

[b]Things Your Character Wants to Happen (probably wont):[/b]
Anna would love to discover the philosopher's stone, attain immortality, and escape the clutches of her recent unwanted vampiric overlord. However, having long abandoned any hopes for a happy ending, she'll settle for more money to use as a down payment for the alchemical ingredients she needs tp prolong her drug fueled stupor for another night.

[b]Things You as a Writer Wants to Happen (Maybe will):[/b]
Adventure, spooky stuff, and cool character interactions are all things that I desperately want to see happen in character. I'd love for Anna to at least try to overcome her addictions and for her to become a slightly more responsible person. Related, I would very much enjoy seeing her past come back to bite her, be it through the aforementioned vampire blackmailing Anna or another disgruntled past customer.

[b]Writing Sample:[/b]
[hider=Late Night Potion Brewing]
The paint scuffed door to the small shed opened with a weary protest of wood, followed by heavy footsteps that seemed to shake the ground. A cauldron bubbled in a corner of the room, spewing thick tendrils of smoke over the steel blackened edges. Anna didn't bother looking up, she already knew who it was. Instead, she remained huddled over the repurposed wok pan that she had bought for $20 at a garage sale. Saying hello wasn't worth setting off a magical explosion. Her hands moved carefully, slowly stirring the concoction in front of her with a wooden spoon. Flashes swam through the thick liquid within the cauldron and filled the room with a strange, dreadful light that danced off the the mason jars scattered across the room. Sitting atop crumbling IKEA bookshelves that were hammered into each wall, every bit of free space in the gardening shed seemed to be stacked with ramshackle containers. A small fortune in arcane ingredients lay in glass, protected by nothing more than 1-inch-thick boards of lumber, a combination lock, and a string of hastily scratched arcane curses.

"What do you need this time, Schultz?" The alchemist said once the mixture began to settle. The strange liquid crackled with power as arcane energies defied the laws of physics, ionizing stray oxygen atoms that settled in the bottom of the cauldron with violent sparks of electricity. Eldritch waves, faded into a rolling slumber as Anna continued to carefully move her bargain bin ladle.

"A simple potion, a potion guaranteed to leave a troll sleeping for...four...let's say six hours," the demonic mobster said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of shack with a broad smile on his lips. Smoldering coals of flame shone from beneath the iron mask he wore.

"Nothing you ask me to make for you is ever simple," Anna scoffed, wiping sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her jacket, "What's weight of this troll?"

"Above average, I haven't asked, but let's just say he's got a robust figure," Schultz said with a low, booming laugh that threatened to collapse the shelves closet to him. "How much is it gonna cost me this time?"

"Same as always, $1500 now, $500 when it's done."

"That's a lot of money. How about we say $200, for old times sake?"

"How about you find someone else to do it for you then? Just don't blame me when your friend wakes up after thirty seconds, tears off your right arm, and uses it to beat your stupid ass straight back to hell."

"Now, now, don't be cross, I was only teasing, Anna," the gangster chuckled. "Your work is top notch and I wouldn't dream of frequenting a different alchemist. Besides, trust is all we have in this business. I trust you to do [i]excellent[/i] work and to keep your mouth shut if anyone comes knocking. And so, in return, I do not hesitate to seek your services when matters requires them." 

"You trust me, don't you Anna?"

"Yeah, sure, I trust you, Schultz," Anna said. "Well, as much as I trust any entity who's paid to break bones for a living, but do you know how hard it is to find Pixie Dust in the middle of winter?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage."

"Of course I will," Anna huffed, waving the wooden spoon angrily at the mobster.

"By the by, I heard a strange story from one of the boys. He said he'd seen someone that looked just like you at the Pyramid Club."

The demon stopped for a moment and Anna's heart lurched with unexpected panic as she realized he was embarrassed, he was embarrassed for her. Clearing his throat and mercifully murdering the awkward silence, Schultz finally addressed the horror looming in the shadows, "Now, I know it's none of my business, but I thought you were done with Cara, Anna?"

Anna shot him an angry glance.

"You know that it's a bad idea, Anna. A really fucking bad idea. And that's saying a lot given your recent penchant for fucking up your life."

"You're one to talk, asshole," Anna hissed back, trying to hide the lump she felt in her throat.

"Hey, you only get this old, wise, and powerful by making a lot of mistakes," Schultz replied with a shrug.

"Yeah, well, no one is paying for advice from the demon who had to make a deal with an angel because he ended up owing money to the [i]Chechenskaya mafiya[/i]," Anna said, rolling her eyes.

"You win some, you lose some when you play a game of poker with those guys," Schultz said with a dismissive shrug as he ignored Anna's desperate bait. "You know that you can't trust her, right?"

"I know," Anna snapped back.

"Then why?" Schultz said running a hand wearily across his scalp. Anna wasn't sure what expression he made beneath his mask, but she knew it wasn't a good one. She didn't like it, she couldn't stand his concern, she couldn't stomach his judgment, but he stopped himself before she had to hurl a beaker of glass in his direction. "That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea," Anna replied, fighting the pang of fear that coursed through her, the visions of sharp teeth and blood that swam through her mind.

"I suppose I don't."

"Hey, Schultz."

"What?"

"Fuck you."
[/hider]

[hider=Off the Grid]
The sports jacket was a mystery to her. It was soft and smelled new. Brand new. Like no one had ever worn it before. Nice cut, elaborate tailoring. Anna was convinced it was expensive. It didn't quite match her torn t-shirt emblazoned with the [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bloody_Kisses#/media/File:Bloodykiss.jpg]Bloody Kisses album cover[/url], but in the morning chill the warmth was welcome.

The frost covered bench was cold and Anna shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She let the cigarette crumble into embers in her mouth, watching disdainfully as the ashes fell onto her lap. Small holes appeared in her skirt as the ashes burned out in wisps of smoke. She hated winter. She hated the city in winter. She hated the Sunday Group. She hated Eleanor. She hated everyone and everything, at least for a moment. But most of all, she thought, she hated herself.

She knew they'd find her eventually. She knew that Eleanor wouldn't take long. The Sunday Group. Whoever they were. Whatever they were. Whoever Eleanor was. Whatever she really was. Not whatever the sign on the door to her office said she was. The money had been good. They'd said it would be easy work. They'd lied. The money had been good. It had kept her going. It had kept her drugged. It was the only way to keep the eyes away, the glowing eyes that seemed to peer at her from the darkness in the middle of the night. It wasn't easy. It wasn't fun. They'd lied. All she'd gotten was more nightmares. More monsters to be afraid of. More horrors to bury with a fresh batch of homemade arcane drugs.

Anna heard the explosion, managing a low laugh as a cloud thick with magic enveloped the landscape in front of her. The cursing that followed filled her with a new warmth and drew more weak laughter still from the exhausted alchemist. Business casual figures emerged from the vegetation that lined the sides of the dirt road practically sparkling. Covered in pixie dust and glitter, they seemed far less serious than Anna remembered, but no less angry. They couldn't stop her from having her fun. They couldn't stop her from making a statement. Stumbling to her feet, Anna lit another cigarette, drawing in a long breath of tar streaked smoke with a satisfied sigh.

"Eleanor, boss, I can explain," she began slurring only slightly as a familiar, pain filled smiled played across her lips.
[/hider]
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