You Better Start Running

Bio: (at least 3 paragraphs - remember OC if it reads like Dean Winchester I ain’t gonna be happy)

(And if Mamma Alex ain't happy, ain't nobody happy! -z snaps- I would like to point out I just cracked myself up. Continue on with the app :D).

The early 1900's were booming with possibilities, both for humanity as a whole and for women, especially. Born in 1899, Jeannette 'Jinx' Gorham was born to a middle class family in Boston, Massachusetts. Her father was a news paper editor and her mother was a stay at home mother and, most importantly, a major player in the Women's Suffrage movement. As early as Jeanette could remember, her mother had drug her along to every Suffragette meeting she attended, raising the young girl to become part of the movement as well. Being raised, while involved in such serious, albeit chaotic, situations, only proved to reinforce the young girl's playful and mischievous nature and her nickname – Jinx. Growing up, Jinx had been the cause of many people's misfortune, though it was never intentional or malicious on her part – she simply wanted to have a little fun. That didn't stop any of the other women from insisting that the girl's mother leave her at home with her father, who, for all intents and purposes, preferred to believe that Jinx didn't even exist. Now, forced to stay at home with her less than pleasant father, Jinx had a lot of downtime, which was incredibly dangerous.

When left to her own devices, Jinx could come up with some seriously creative pranks, for that time period, anyway. Of course, she stuck to the classics as well, like switching the sugar out for salt when it was time for tea. Harmless? Yes. Hysterical? Absolutely. On a more dangerous level, Jinx would loosen legs of chairs and tables, resulting in quite a few visits from doctors to their home and the homes of others – such as the other Suffragettes. The pain caused by Jinx's harmless pranks always left her feeling guilty and she apologized profusely, but it never stopped her from doing it again. She always thought the next time would end differently and she just couldn't help herself. It was who she was.

The neglect Jinx faced while staying at home made her crave attention and companionship more so than she already had, causing her to act out and draw even more attention to herself by causing scenes and playing pranks on anyone who would give her the littlest bit of attention. One day, shortly after the 19th amendment was passed, Jinx was out with her mother, on one of those rare occasions that she was allowed to, and a group of men, protesting the recently passed bill were standing outside of Boston's City Hall. Seeing as her mother was busy off talking to one of her Suffragette friends, a now 21 year old Jinx, thought it would be funny to go taunt the men, playfully teasing them about their protesting and old fashioned ways of thinking. One innocent jab too far, Jinx found herself subject to the abuse of the men on City Hall's steps. There was one blow in particular, to her nose, that sent cartilage up into her brain, killed her instantly. It took a moment for the men to stop and realize that the twenty-one year old had stopped fighting back and that she was dead. When they did, it was like time stopped and everyone froze. Though Jinx's death had been no one's intention, there weren't many people who were surprised by the outcome of that day's events.

Her family mourned and grieved, but eventually moved on as best they could. Meanwhile, Jinx found herself in a very peculiar place – Purgatory. Because of the violent and sudden nature of her death, her soul couldn't move on and find peace, so it was stuck in the proverbial limbo of Purgatory, and who would have known her mischievous nature would meld so well with her new surroundings. Though she was still her old, sneaky, trickster self, Jinx wasn't entirely unchanged by the event that ended her human life. In a far corner or Jinx's mind, there was a dark shadow looming – always haunting her and reminding her of what had happened to her. Despite her dark passenger, Jinx could almost always push it out of her mind; that was until she ran across a fallen angel pushing around another creature, one much like herself. Stepping in, Jinx managed to get herself and her fellow Purgatorian away and out of danger (for the time being, anyway) with just a few scrapes and bruises. In return, the creature Jinx had managed to rescue gave her a run down of..everything, basically. Jinx learned that she'd become an Imp, and that's what her fellow creature was as well. She also learned that they were, essentially, lowly demons who needed to reach out to others for protection if they wanted to survive. Naturally, that didn't sit well with Jinx, so she rebelled and went about her time in Purgatory the same way she went about her human life in Boston; recklessly and assuming things would be different. After getting her ass handed to her by a couple witches, fallen angels, and demons, Jinx caved. She hated that she needed protection from others, but she would be damned if her time in Purgatory would end the same way her human life had.

Now, nearly 93 years later, Jinx had mastered her powers as an Imp and had settled into a comfortable niche of Purgatory, finding a special kind of solace in reducing herself to her smaller form and hiding out in the treetops of the forest since she has yet to find a demon or fallen angel powerful or willing enough to take her under their metaphorical, or literal, wing. Though, with the new batch of poor, unsuspecting humans that had managed to land themselves in Purgatory, Jinx knew that this was her chance to prove herself useful to some of the big bads in Purgatory and find herself a protector. And, hey! Who said she couldn't have a little fun while doing so, huh?

IC Sample: (at least 4 paragraphs)

“Hey! Imp! What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Oh, God. Not again. Honestly. You'd think that after fifty years in Purgatory Jinx would figure out which unnatural creature was staying where, but nope. Of course not. The gravely voice of the would-be soldier of The Lord sent an irritating and frightening chill down the Imp's spine. Still, the fear instilled in Jinx didn't stop her from turning away from the lake in front of her to face the fallen angel, an innocent smile gracing her features. Surely it wouldn't help, considering the vendetta this guy had for Jinx. Save one Imp and there's a target on your back. How in the hell (pun, very much intended) was that fair? Of course, if Jinx was being honest, she was currently booby trapping this guy's makeshift home. In all fairness, though, she didn't know it was his – she'd just gotten bored!

“Now, Melchior. We've talked about this. My name isn't 'Imp'. It's Jinx. You'll get it right one of these days. I have complete faith in you. But, I really must be going."

The young Imp held up her hands, as if to placate Melchior, as she backed up slowly, seconds from shrinking herself down to her two inch tall, pixie like size. Something stopped her though, as she froze in place. Melchior was suddenly gone, seemingly having disappeared before her eyes and that was not good. Not good at all. There were very few things that scared Jinx more than a fallen angel disappearing on her and one of them was a fallen angel with a bounty out for her head disappearing on her. Sense heightened, Jinx's body tensed and her hands started to shake while her chest rose and fell at an increased rate. Swallowing thickly, Jinx turned in a slow circle, squinting her eyes slightly, as if it would help her find the fallen angel easier. Clenching her jaw and sighing, the small Imp turned one last time and gasped, suddenly standing toe to toe with Melchior. He wore a sick grin and there was an inherently evil glint in his eye that sent a shiver down Jinx's spine and made goosebumps rise over her skin.

“Someone's been a bad. Little. Imp.” Venom dripped from his words as he gripped Jinx's wrist so tightly it made the bones grind together.

A wince flashed across Jinx's face and she tugged her arm, trying to wriggle her way out of Melchior's grip, but it was useless. He was far stronger than she was and would still be even if he wasn't a supernatural freak of the underworld. She needed to get out of here. And fast. Letting down the walls that kept out the darkness that hid inside Jinx was slow and gradual at first, but then it was like the flood gates opened up and something dark was let loose inside of her. Whether or not it was because Melchior's grip felt all too similar to the feeling of the day she'd died. Helpless and weak. It wasn't something Jinx had ever wanted to feel again, yet right now she did and that did not make the Imp happy.

“Story of my life, Melchy.” Jinx spoke through gritted teeth, her own slender fingers moving to grasp Melchior's wrist, her nails digging into his flesh, breaking the skin and drawing blood. She got little satisfaction from that fact, though, since he promptly started laughing at her feeble attempt to physically harm him. It was a cold and hard sound; nothing like the sound Jinx longed for. It simply made her that much more irate. “You know,” She began, mock sincerity in her voice, “It's too bad you and I have such different senses of humor. I really do think we could make a great team if you weren't such a resentful, unforgiving asshole. Your power and my personality could really change the way things in Purgatory work.” Raising her brows, Jinx's nails dug harder into Melchior's skin, pulling him closer to her in an attempt to throw him off-guard. By the way his eyes widened, Jinx figured she'd accomplished that task.

Bio: (at least 3 paragraphs - remember OC if it reads like Dean Winchester I ain’t gonna be happy)

"Were you parents high when they named you or somethin'? That's...different."

If River had a dime for every time someone had said that to him, he'd never have to worry about bills again. And if he was being perfectly honest, yes, there was every possible chance his parents were high as kites when they named him. He'd been born to Dandelion and Forest. Last names weren't a thing in the commune, they were all one and one was all. Adult Ric wished his childhood would have been scary or horrific or painful to reflect back on, but it was awesome. He'd felt special - no - 'chosen' - connected, peaceful, content. His education involved learning how the world really worked - how plants grew and made more plants, how tadpoles became frogs, how eggs hatched, how balanced everything had to be to succeed. Worry, fear, doubt had never crept in. Kids on the outside had fire drills and they'd had stranger drills. They'd dug holes in the ground that lead to an interconnected system of tunnels to slip into at the first sign of anyone unfamiliar and remained out of sight until an elder came and got them. It'd been a fun thing more than anything to Ric. He'd been the first child born to the new commune, everyone felt like a mother and father and there was at least four winters before another child was born (he pegs that now for the reason he gets along poorly with people his age or younger, but that's neither here nor there). Outside and stranger felt like far off made up words. Everything he needed he had and that was all he wanted to think about.

He was what the outside would call sixteen when he followed the ocean home one day to the little lake their commune was housed around. Their elected leader was a man named Ocean, and he was kneeling naked waist deep in the water. That wasn't entirely out of the norm. Most ceremonies of any type involved the lake in some way but the bloated floating shapes next to him - that was weird. So was the long single form line of adults and children all waiting patiently, going one by one into Ocean's arms. And not getting back up. River drew back, unsure what was going on. Humans couldn't breathe underwater, it was one of his biggest gripes with nature his elders had been trying to get him to let go as long as he could remember. He'd always loved the ocean and spent as much time as possible in or around it. But this - this just felt wrong. So he stayed in the shadows, silent like they'd trained him, just watching. His first brother (the one he took a subconscious and mostly unnoticed preference to) was near the end of the line. River was torn between wanting his brother to go to the next life and be reincarnated and torn between his own selfish desire that he was so young and he wasn't ready to say goodbye. His fingers flexed on the tree trunk an hour later, when they'd gotten down to ten adults and five children. Should he do something? Now was the time to make his presence known or not. Just as he took a step - everything went an unnatural shade of red and blue. Ocean stood up, going after the kids but something stopped him first. There were loud pops, like nothing River had ever heard before and little clouds of blood bursting out of Ocean's body before he was falling, staining the now polluted water a deep red. River's eyes moved back, watching the strangers he'd been trained to run from, trying to understand. They were kneeling, talking quietly, had blankets, and towels. The kids that had been sobbing were now rocked and quieting. These were the bad guys? They handled everyone with a soft voice and softer touches. River didn't have the same wrong feeling about them. But he still slipped through the forest until he could snake fingers around his brother's wrist and drop him into one of the tunnels.

It was a hard choice to make between what he knew, what he was taught, and the unknown. He knew he could live off the land, he knew he could keep him and his brother alive, he was taught strangers were bad, but he didn't actually know anything about them. Why had they come when they did? Why had they been nice? Why hadn't they come an hour earlier when most everyone was still alive? They found River and his brother still in the tunnels three days later as the questions had entirely paralyzed him and he'd been unable to make a decision outside of raiding their food stores and getting more clothing and blankets to make sure his brother stayed comfortable.

"Outside" had been an entirely shattering experience. It was loud, and busy, and chaotic in the bad way. River found he missed the beach, the cabins, the quiet even more than the people. They got lucky though, they'd had three days of interviewing the other members and weren't quite so baffled and horror-stricken in their interactions with the boys. They were sent to people in white coats to poke and prod and touch them in weird ways. It was there that River was first explained about birthdays and age and how it was a good indicator of someone's time on earth. He was sixteen, his brother twelve. They became wards of the state, sent to specially researched and picked families to try and assimilate them into ... normalcy? Sending River to school had ended as a nightmare for everyone. It was too confined, too loud, too confusing, too many people - his mind couldn't handle it and it'd driven him to attempt suicide. Which apparently was not an uncommon thing among cult survivors and was being looked for - so he was pulled out of school. Homeschooled for a year with the intent of reinserting him in school but that never happened.

His brother was the opposite. He'd always been sociable, as eager to talk to the butterflies as he was anyone who would stick by him enough to listen. Ironically his brother's chatter could calm and reach him when he pulled away trying desperately to drown everything out, or when he woke up from nightmares, splashing through the lake trying to save everyone - or anyone. His brother made friends, loved school, spent as much time doing whatever he enjoyed. Sporting was one. River never understood it. The concept of kicking a small white and black thing into a net and having a bunch of people both trying to help and block you. It seemed to nearly always result in constant stalemates. It wasn't a balanced sport and he didn't much care for it. But it made his brother light up and grin and laugh so he dutifully sat as far away from everyone as he could and weathered it to be at every one of his games.

Eventually River despite all his attempts and fears and confusion - did start to assimilate. He willingly changed his name from River to Ric Smith. He got a job first as a bus boy and eventually with some (read: a lot of) coaxing and a very cute guy (that drew Ric to a whole new world of confusion) got him behind the bar and finding his stride. Bar-tending was something he loved with the passion of his brother and his soccer ball. Making drinks was fun, and the banter between people was something he found he not only could handle but found actually soothing. Bad nights still happened here and there, but they were fewer and far between. There wasn't much that tripped Ric up anymore knowledge wise - he'd gotten both his ged and was working on an art degree. There was nothing useful about it - he'd found his career, but he found he liked art. It was mostly solitary but the way the mediums felt under his hands reminded him of sand between his toes and sunny days and that made him feel more complete than almost anything else. His boyfriend was the other. Ric'd never realized the effect people could have on one another and now couldn't imagine living a life alone. He'd made sure that Shane knew everything and knew exactly what he was getting into and resisted moving in together for six months after he was asked, still afraid. But they always ran on Ric's time and did things as he was comfortable to do them until enough of that won over his trust. He'd been living with him for almost two years at this point and was about to turn 25.

And made the fatal error of agreeing to pick his brother up at a party somewhere. His brother'd just gotten in the car when the final words of the spell were spoken and both were in the blast zone when the spell unleashed, granting both of them one way tickets to Purgatory.

IC Sample:

The week before his twenty third birthday had seen his brother get accepted to college and a key gifted to him. One that unlocked Shane's house and River wasn't naive enough to think that's all it unlocked. But he'd taken it. It was silly not to. Most of his time was spent there anyway. His own apartment had been nearly abandoned ever since his brother had graduated high school and spent the summer going around to parties and colleges. For all the improvements and settling River'd done over the years, being alone in the city was still one he struggled with. It was one thing to be alone out on the beach or in the forest or somewhere he knew and understood the way it worked and what dangers were present, but here? There were too many things that could happen, he was so vulnerable, and he hated it. He'd stopped making excuses weeks ago and just stayed most nights.

So it wasn't that surprising to wake up and find bright blue eyes softly focused on him. Though he hadn't remembered crashing. He thought he'd closed alone last night so he'd crashed at home rather than risk waking Shane up. Tilting his head slightly, he was pretty sure this was his bedroom, though somehow Shane's bedroom had slowly morphed into looking very much like it. Shades of grey and blue that River loved, bamboo and other kinds of natural woods. "Where am I?" he finally gave up and asked sleepily, curling forward the couple feet to snuggle against his shoulder and let the other wrap strong arms around him. "Mmm. I crashed yours when you didn't come home." River blinked for a moment, "Home?" he repeated. His chin was tilted up, warm soft kisses pressed to his mouth and that he liked. A grin took over his face and he'd probably have agreed to anything in that moment. "Home." Shane said firmly. "We are both off today and we're packing. You're moving in. Officially. Permanently." River blinked. "Ok."

It wasn't exactly the way he'd pictured it going, but it felt very them. River wanted something but wasn't reaching for it, so Shane was getting fed up and putting it in his hand until he grasped it. "Ok." He said again, before peering up at him. "But...coffee first?" That made Shane laugh and River had to smile despite himself. "Yeah, babe." Shane pulled away despite River's whine, getting up and pausing by the door until River managed to extract himself from his blankets. Slipping fingers into Shane's, he blearily put one foot in front of the other until he realized there were more people in his kitchen than there should be.

"SURPRISE!"

He blinked in shock, immediately trying to step behind Shane, but the man was laughing and pulling him in front, his arms moving around River's waist to keep him from bolting. "Happy birthday, Riv." he purred in a voice that was only supposed to be used in the bedroom and oh dear Gaia. River's eyes moved over his kitchen, genuinely surprised. Most of the people there were people they worked with, people he'd found nice and understanding despite his...oddities and his brother! A bright grin finally worked its way on River's face when he realized everyone was in their pajamas. "Are we having a pajama party?" River asked delightedly, "You're going to make me pancakes aren't you? With chocolate chips!" Glee he couldn't hide even if he wanted to suddenly hit and this was perfect. Low key, safe, and exactly the amount River could handle. He turned just enough to pull Shane's mouth down to his, kissing as much gratitude as he could until he was breaking away to be handed an envelope by a very impatient baby brother. "Alright, alright," River rolled his eyes, but snatched the envelope, staring in surprise when two large rectangles fell out. "You got me...paper?" River asked questionably. "Thank you?" His brother rolled his eyes impatiently, and just turned them over. "They're tickets! You're going to take a cruise to Hawaii. Boat, water, paradise. You and Shane. For two weeks. We all chipped in. Your shifts are covered, everything is paid for, you just... you go tonight and you have the best two weeks of your lives, ok?"