Full Name: Ruby Estel Sleeter

Nickname(s): If she likes you, she’ll accept Rue, but she prefers her full first name.

Appeared Age: Depends on how much makeup she’s put on. Without it, a bit younger than her actual age. With it, a bit older.

Actual Age: 21

Race: Human

General Appearance: Height: 5’ 3” Build: She has a lithe dancer’s body. Hair: As in the picture! She has it currently dyed light purple with sky-blue highlights. Though she’s a natural strawberry blond, she has it currently dyed light purple with sky-blue highlights. Kept in long, often messy layers. Eyes: Light blue.

Distinguishing Marks: She has a pair of midriff tattoos, one on either side of her torso; one is a stylized bat wing with its claws forming into curly-cues, the other a feathered wing. It’s just the outline of them so far. She’s currently working on saving up to get them colored—along with the nerve to get it done. The outline was bad enough; she's considering just leaving it as is, despite her original intentions. As much as she hates to admit it, she's a bit of a baby when it comes to things like that.

Clothes Wear: Whatever she feels is “cute” that day, while fitting with what level of comfort she's most in the mood for.

Accessories: She likes matching them to her outfit. But it’s rare for her to be seen without at lest one necklace. She has two lobe piercings on her left ear, and four on her right. Like with the tattoo, the fourth in the cartilage made her rethink getting more, and stopped her from evening out the other side.

Prized Possession(s): Does her cell phone count? She’d count her cell phone.

Occupation: Waitress at a diner her aunt owns. Though, she does hope to one day become a professional dancer. Or maybe an actress. She sees no reason to not aspire to both. And if all else fails, a parapsychologist doesn't sound too horrible of an option to her, either.

Weapon(s): She always keeps a taser and a can of pepper spray on her. She’s had reason to use them a couple times, and, quite honestly, found it quite satisfying giving the creeps what they deserved.

Personality: She is an extremely dominant personality. She’s a spunky, fiery girl, who is always moving. She’s rather loud for such a small thing, and has always been a major reason that she (and her friends) have gotten into trouble. She is very outspoken, doesn’t have much—if any—of a filter between her brain and tongue, and is a fierce and loyal friend. She's the type who will gladly protect her friends, especially her BFF ((You know, your character)), with her life. She is a good mix between a Tom Boy and a Girly-Girl; while she's well-versed in things like makeup, hair dye, and isn't afraid of setting her own fashion styles, she also isn't afraid of getting down and dirty. She'd happily roll around in a mud pit just for the fun of it (as long as it wouldn't ruin any of her good clothes), then get cleaned up for an upscale night on the town.

Mental Weaknesses/Fears: Ruby is terrified of becoming anything remotely like her parents. While she isn't blind to her good personality and physical traits, she ultimately hides behind her show of confidence when it comes to how put-together she feels, both physically and mentally. While it isn't a lie, exactly, it is a sort of shield. She is also afraid of being trapped somewhere with no way to defend herself, or to call for help.

Physical Abilities: She has some good core strength from years of dance classes, really good stamina, and is extremely bendy. She’s joked around about joining a circus as a contortionist, though even she has to admit that she isn’t actually that bendy.

Physical Weaknesses: She lacks strength outside the main areas necessary for dancing,and is exceptionally weak in her left arm. This is because of an old, severe injury, which never fully healed quite right. Though, thankfully, it healed enough for her to still be capable feeding her passion in dancing.

A Short-ish Bio: It wasn't until she was around seven years old when she went to live with her aunt Fiona (Ruby's mother's sister) and uncle Tristin. With her parents abusive, and her father occasionally in and out of jail for various minor misdemeanors, her aunt and uncle decided to fight for custody over her to give her a better life. Luckily, she got it, though her father had demanded that she keep her "rightful" surname of Sleeter, rather than changing it to Moose. Which was probably one of the only things she's even been thankful for when it came to her parents. So, she grew up with her aunt and uncle, and her older cousin, Aaron, who very much became like a brother to her.
While her parents still popped into existence in her life now and again--something made easier since they only lived about an hour's drive away, if that--she soon grew to dread the times she had to see them. As time wore on and their "visits" became increasingly stressful, she fought against them until, finally, they caved and stopped coming around... unless they needed money or some such, of course. She's honestly shocked that either of them are still alive, and will never understand how the two of them were still married, especially with the amount of hate and resentment between them.
As for her arm, while she enjoys making up different tales about how it got injured (to entertain others just as much to avoid having to relive the memory), the truth behind it isn't as grand as she'd like. Though it does hold a smidge of the supernatural to it that she's clung to ever since. It's the only part of the whole ordeal she lets herself remember.
In fact, it happened after the last "visit" from her parents. Around the age of thirteen, they had talked her into going on an outing to a park with them. Things went south fast. Her father even got violent with her, and so, she ran, forgetting her phone in her haste.
She didn't pay attention to where she was going, nor did she care. She just wanted to make sure they wouldn't find her. With the vastness of the forested park, she turned off the trail. She didn't know how long or how far she'd gone for--it could have been minutes, or hours--when she came to a sudden, steep drop. She tried to stop, but the ground gave way, and she tumbled down into a ravine filled with leaf litter and bramble.
There, she found an ancient steel-jaw trap--rather, her arm did, the hard way. Before she could let out a full scream, a boulder jarred her to a stop, and she lost consciousness.
She had no clue how long she'd been down there for, but by the time she woke, she'd lost a lot of blood. She'd tried calling out for help, but she was too far from the path, and there was no way she could get herself back up the hill with the steel jaw clamped on her, even if its chain wasn't caught on something.
She wound up being in and out of agonizing consciousness, so, though part of her is positive of what she saw, the other part of her questions it, and has kept her quiet about it all these years. Not even Alex knows.
She swore, what felt like not long before she was found, there was someone there with her. She couldn't fully make the figure out, as if he--or she--was there, yet wasn't. She thought she heard the whisper of a crooning, calming voice. Though after she couldn't remember if it was more masculine or feminine, she is of the opinion that it was that figure's call that led a search party to her. After all, even the members of that search party weren't entirely sure how they'd found her, nearly hidden as she was.
They said she'd gotten lucky. They'd found her just in time, and the trap was old, so it had lost a decent bit of its tension. The damage it did could have been much, much worse. All the same, it took many surgeries and physical therapy to fix what damage it did cause. But Ruby was determined to heal from it.
She found out later that there were quite a few rumors about the forest she'd ran through. From that day on, her enjoyment of the supernatural became an obsession. One she worked hard to keep secret--or at least to make it seem more like a normal hobby--but an obsession nonetheless.
It was also the final straw for keeping her parents away from her--from what she'd heard, they hadn't bothered to report her missing for hours. She also always makes sure to keep her phone on her person at all times, so she'll have a way of contacting someone in the event of an emergency.

Full Name: Evander Ambrosius Draklan

Nickname(s): Vander. Though technically a nickname, it’s what he usually goes by outside the need for aliases.

Aliases: As an immortal, he sheds aliases regularly. He likes to keep a few lined up for quick use, though he does favor using his actual name when it would be of little consequence, or when dealing with the other supernaturals of the world.

Appeared Age: Usually hears somewhere in his mid to late twenties. As he was changed when he was 28, this doesn’t surprise him.

Actual Age: Old enough to not care anymore (but if you did the math, he’d be about 902).

Race: Vampire

Nationality: German, as we’d call it today.

General Appearance: Height: 5’10” Build: He’s always had a strong, muscular build, even before being changed. Hair: Though he’s grown out his hair like he’d once kept it way back when, he’s been considering cutting it short again. But, for now, it’s fairly long, well kept, and dark brown. Eyes: Hazel. If you look close enough or in the right light, there’s a slight red tinge to his pupils, like red-eye in a bad photo. They dilate with the swell of his eternal thirst. This color will completely consume his eyes when he feeds or fully unleashes his powers. Skin Tone: More fair-skinned than outright undead pale. Anything Else: When retracted, his canines are always a smidge longer and sharper than your typical human’s, though not so much so that they would necessarily draw attention or scream “vampire.” However, when not retracted, they’re menacingly long, and the ones around them also morph into fangs, the canines remaining the longest among them.

Clothes Wear: Even when he dresses “casual,” it’s usually something rather classy. He quite misses the days when typical men’s fashion didn’t involve oversized graphic t-shirts and baggy pants, and is keeping hope that more classy dress will come back into style again. After all, bellbottoms made a comeback for a while, so why not?

Accessories: He doesn’t have many extravagant accessories, though he does have a ruby stud earring in his left ear, and a tiger-head ring with matching eyes that he favors.

Occupation: This has changed many times over the years. Though, in order to avoid it ending in a blood-drenched disaster, he’s had to work more in the background or otherwise in positions where he wasn’t around too many people for an extended period of time. Or outright manipulate humans to get the job done for him. At the moment, he’s in between jobs, and taking the time to see what’s new in this little section of the world he’s newly decided to call home again.

Weapon(s): He often keeps a Glock 21 (which he has bullets of various metals for, including silver ones) concealed about his person. As fast and powerful as he is, having a ranged weapon handy never hurt. He also has a small portion of his collection of various weapons locked away in the room he’s set aside as a study/office in his current rental house.

Personality: After many failed attempts at ending his and the warlock’s lives, Vander decided long ago that he would not let the warlock who turned him into a vampire win. As such, he’s spent his immortal life split between fighting the nagging thirst always clawing at him, and doing his best to embrace and enjoy what he is. Though he’s learned to read a person and alter how he acts to lure them away from the pack, in general, he’s highly aware of how strong he is, and holds himself with a cocky air worthy of the reputation he’s made for himself among the supernatural community, and often has a hard outward personality. A personality that’s just as much survival instinct as it is an ingrained habit at this point. However, when he’s alone, he’s a lot more relaxed, and dotes upon his cat like it’s the child he never had.
But a cat isn’t the same as being around humans or finding the true love and companionship his heart has desired since losing his family so long ago. And loneliness can do strange things to a person, especially when the only ones who break that up with any decent longevity are creatures that tend to bask in violence.
Over time, while trying to cling to his righteousness from when he was human, a part of him has fractured into two distinctive parts of himself: his fading humanity, and his bloodhaze. But it’s where the cracks spiderweb out from the main break, where one side reaches into the other, that he can become the most dangerous. He’s been known to snap between the two in a blink, and often has trouble telling exactly where his bloodhaze’s desire for violence and pain actually ends, or even if it ends, or if it has fully blended into who he has truly become.

Magical Abilities:. Smoke Mimicry: Though he can’t burst into a swarm of bats, he can turn into smoke, either entirely or in part. Used right, he can use this to essentially grant himself a form of flight. Hypnosis/Compulsion: Comes in handy when manipulating humans. He’s built this up enough that he can use it on some supernatural creatures, not just humans. Hyper-Healing: Alas, as he's found out from experience, while this means that most things that hurt him don't hurt for long, it doesn't dilute any pain itself. Being set on fire? Yeah, not fun. Exactly how quickly he recovers from things does have a dependency on how recently he's fed, and feeding after being injured helps greatly. Also, if he's been significantly (or repeatedly) injured, his bloodhaze will work itself into a frenzy, even if his body doesn't really need the blood. Pyrokinesis: This one is uncommon among his kind, and related to the history behind his change. He can control and summon fire. Though more a “party trick” to this, he can even change its color. Heat Haze: An off-shoot of the last, he can use the distorting powers of heat to create optical illusions.

Physical Abilities: Ye ol’ vampiric standards: heightened senses, strength, agility, etc. Everything that helps makes a vampire the ultimate predator.

Weaknesses: With his age, he has, in a sense, ‘outgrown’ what few of your typical vampiric weaknesses his kind have, and sunlight—though not something that could kill even fledglings of his kind—is a minor irritation that lightly weakens his overall strengths. And makes him extra irritable. No, he only has three real weaknesses anymore: 1) Killing his creator to kill him—though, as much as he'd rather be the one to do it, he’d thank you for that. 2) His need for blood. If he doesn’t hunt at the very least every two to three weeks, it will completely consume him. The longer he goes, the more it begins to be a physical ache, and weakens his abilities. But even in between, it’s a danger, his need and desire for blood and death an unrelenting beast. He’s been capable of gaining enough self-control to not attack anything with a heartbeat the moment it comes withing a mile of him, but it’s always an eternal struggle, even if it's just been an hour since he last fed. 3) Striking at the only things he’s allowed himself to grow attached to—like his cat, though he knows that even that animal will only be around for what is but a wisp to his eternity.

Other: Though he has since learned how to blend his mortal German accent into many local dialects, to this day, he easily slips back into this accent from time to time. As stated above, Vander is currently in a small rental house. While he could afford something larger for himself and his cat, since he ends up having to relocate fairly often to avoid others noticing that he doesn’t age, he prefers rentals. He does have a few permanent places that are out-of-the-way safe havens in a couple different countries, but he tries to not use them too often.

Mr. Fuzzums: A seven-year-old gray and white tabby cat with green eyes. Though not overweight, he isn’t exactly a skinny cat anymore, either. Vander often reassures him that it’s just all his “floof.” A couple years ago, Mr. Fuzzums found Vander while he was out hunting. Having gone a bit too long between feeding, Vander had been too focused on his prey to pay any great amount of attention to his surroundings. A hunter tried sneaking up on him to intercept his hunt. While the human hunter couldn’t have killed Vander, Mr. Fuzzums saved him from having to deal with the irritation of a stake through his heart. The cat jumped in out of seemingly nowhere, sinking its teeth and claws into the hunter’s face. After Vander killed the hunter and hid the body, he headed back to the apartment he was living in then, but the cat followed him home. He tried to get the cat to leave, but it would always be there, waiting for him when he left the building. So, since the blood of animals doesn’t call to him the same way the blood of humans does, they adopted each other. Since then, Vander has had a soft spot for cats, and has zero tolerance for animal abuse.


Bio: He was born the fifth son to an earl, whose bloodline has long since died out. Having been trained for and achieving knighthood, Vander had just been betrothed—an engagement that was equal parts strategy and true love—when he was sent off to fight in the Second Crusade ((if I have my dates in order, but I suppose that doesn’t matter to anything besides my OCD)).
It was a war he wouldn’t come back from alive.
During a raid, Vander and one of their officers had gotten separated from a couple others in his regiment as they set to burning down a town said to be steeped in witchcraft. Finding one particular home on the outskirts that had managed to avoid the initial onslaught, he and his officer entered it. There, they found tomes and various other things of a witchy nature, though they hadn’t really needed all that to justify burning it down.
But the small house wasn’t empty.
A woman tried to defend both it and herself. But, determined to “purge the world of her evil,” Vander and his officer quickly subdued her.
Having other things he needed to tend to, Vander’s officer left him to “salvage” whatever goods he could, then burn the place down, the bound and gagged witch inside included. Being an obedient soldier, Vander did as he was told, staying to make sure the last of these “accursed, evil hovels” burned to the ground.
But neither he nor his officer had thought to make sure that the woman was the only one who lived there.
The woman’s husband, a powerful warlock, came back to find his wife burning alive. So, to punish Vander for taking everything away from him, the warlock cursed the German to an immortal life of bloodlust.
Though at first the strengths that came with it seemed like they were a blessing, his bloodlust utilized further against the Muslims and Jews they were persecuting, it soon became a curse. With no control over his need for blood, in a single, bloodhaze-filled night, he killed everyone in his camp.
Comrades. Men he’d called brothers since his youth. Dead. All dead, and at his hands.
Horrified, Vander fled, hunting down the warlock who had cursed him. But he couldn’t get close before the spell binding them stopped him, casting him into a world of agony for his efforts.
He spent years trying to find out how to break this curse, and even tried committing suicide by any and every means. But the only way to end his life was to kill the immortal warlock who had changed him. Years later, in desperation, he went after the warlock again. In his desperate rage, he killed anyone he knew the warlock associated before going after the warlock himself. He got extremely close to succeeding before the agony of the magic tether dropped him.
The warlock kept his distance after that, leaving Vander to roam about the world of humans on his own. He’s met many other supernatural creatures on his travels, but he always longed for a life where he was back in control, where his eternal hunger wasn’t always nagging at him, and always overeager to indulge. He always tried to not kill his victims, but, alas, he’s only ever succeeded once, and even that was in recent years, with many, many kills behind him.
At first, as he thought he slowly gained some control over his bloodlust, he tried to integrate himself back amongst humans. Sometimes, he lasted a good month, others barely a few days before his thirst took over, stimulated by all the beating hearts and tantalizing aromas of all the liquid life.
He stopped trying after his tenth massacre, each one covered up by flames. The Great Fire of London? One of Vander's massacre cover-ups. He hadn't actually intended it to get that intense, but his control over fire then wasn't nearly what it today.
He was sick of all the death, sick from being the cause of it. Alas, it couldn’t be helped. But he vowed that he wouldn’t let the warlock truly win. One day, he’d find a way to stop him. To kill one monster to stop another.
So, he resigned himself to a lonely life devoted to making himself as strong as possible, while watching and manipulating humans from the shadows. For a short stint, he even took on hunting other supernatural creatures that preyed on humans and threatened to expose the supernatural world, all in an attempt to ease his conscience. Luckily for him, this was taken as him defending his own current hunting grounds. Different societies of supernaturals began to fear him, and both hate and respect him in equal measure.
Inadvertently, he’s made a name for himself among supernatural creatures, one that’s usually spoken of in reverence. Though he’s heard there are are only a couple vampires still around who are older than him, even they haven't dared confront him. Now, since the only other supernatural creatures who try to make friendly with him do so only out of fear, or because they want something from him, he avoids even them as much as he can.
The only good thing about being immortal is that humans are always changing. Leave a place long enough, and it would be like a new city, with new places to explore and new people. He's never lacking something to do. He’s done everything he can to enjoy his un-life. Though he has very few permanent residents, the ones he does have are filled with collections of art and books, instruments and weapons, and many other things from every era he’s lived through.
But in recent years, he hasn’t spent as much time in these permanent residents. He goes wherever the wind takes him—though he’s had to be careful to not stay in one place for too long, and avoid making attachments. He’s cared for far too many mortals and seen them lost—too often by his own hand—to let himself get close to humans again.
His cat—an odd creature in and of itself, as most animals fear the greater predator they sense in him—aside, he is completely alone in the world.

Fiona is Ruby's biological aunt, who married one Tristin Moose.
Yes, her last name is at least part of the reason for naming her restaurant Moose 'N' Munchies. The other is that she knows a guy who supplies her with moose meat, so they make unique burgers. Also, she just really likes moose... as in it's her overall favorite animal. The irony that she sells moose burgers isn't lost on her.

The new hire at Moose N' Munchies. Nineteen, almost twenty, he's a sweet, helpful man who is hopeful that he'll be capable of winning Ruby's heart, despite her rule against dating co-workers.