#hunteroc

Character: Spencer Prata Species: Hunter Age: 32 Gender: Male Pronouns: He/him Occupation: Hunter By: Caroline

Biography

tw: child abuse tw: death

3 months old. Spencer Prata was a quiet baby. He rarely cried, slept through the night from almost square one, and often looked at his parents as if he understood them already. The slight head tilt of his small quizzical look was often a source of amusement from his young parents, Sarah and Austin Prata. Despite their rocky start, Sarah and Austin were the perfect complement to each other. Austin was loud, brash, and Earth-shatteringly unapologetic; Sarah, soft-spoken, steady, and careful with her decisions. In spite of the reverent love the two shared, their relationship did not come without its problems. And nearly all of them were attributed to Austin.

5 years old. Spencer sat between his mother and father in his kindergarten classroom and he could almost feel his father’s blood boiling. Concerns about home life. Neglect. Abuse. Spencer’s eyes were glued to his feet – the Spiderman sneakers he’d been given at the start of last school year were not only fraying and being hung together by small strings but they were also more than a size too small. His big toe was poking out of his right – wait, was that his left? – shoe. 

He was unaware of his mother’s guiding hand as they stood, strategically pulling him to the opposite side of his father’s heavy footfalls. Before the classroom door had even closed, Austin was screaming. “Fucking bitch. Telling me how to live my own God damned life. Does she have any idea how much she owes me? How much they all fucking owe us –”

Sarah reached forward and slid her hand down Austin’s arm. “Honey, he’s crying.” And sure enough, hidden behind Sarah, young Spencer’s face was coated in fresh tears, though he was silent as he cried. “Please, just, not here…” A paraprofessional had opened the door to another classroom and was looking at the small family with judgement beyond compare.

Austin scowled, rolling his eyes as he came to a dead stop in the hallway, turning toward them both. “If he wants something to cry about, I can give him something to fucking cry about, Sarah.”

Spencer let out a hiccup of fear through his tears and Austin shifted to look down at him. “Wipe those damn tears away, boy. Don’t ever let them see you cry.”

Eleven years old. Spencer had stepped in before he even really knew what he was doing. His mother had been arguing with his father for over an hour now. He was tired of sitting in the bedroom with the door locked, comforting Izzy, who was so tired from crying that she’d actually fallen asleep on his lap. He’d unlocked the bedroom door, marched right up to his father, and taken a swing. Austin laughed as he ran his hand over his jaw slowly. “Boy, you best had meant to hit the wall there.”

“Leave her alone.” “Spencer, no, please. Go back with your sister.” “He can’t hit you and make you cry.” Spencer was facing his mother now, completely unaware of the extended backswing his father had taken. As soon as his father’s forearm connected with his chest, he went flying across the room. He landed on the coffee table, though the table barely budged. Spencer yelped in pain, though no tears fell. 

“Fuck off.”

Austin was laughing again as he closed the gap between him and his son. Not a good sign. “Big words from such a small piece of shit. Did your momma and I teach you to mind your own goddamn business?”

Spencer pushed himself up, teeth clenched, to stand, chest to his father’s stomach. “Fuck. Off.” Then, everything went black.

Fourteen years old. Resting his head on his left fist, Spencer was nearly asleep in the Principal’s office. His mother was sitting there, nodding along gently with the man speaking to her about his concerns. Apparently, his artwork was now concerning, on top of his lack of empathy for his classmates. To be fair, most of his classmates were useless sacks of skin. He’d found a crowd that he fit in with, though they were all children of hunters. Even Izzy had gotten herself in with the group already, which was miraculous as women weren’t always as readily accepted. It helped that she was over 5 years his younger. They protected her, looked out for her.

“Mrs. Prata, I’m sure I’m not the first person to voice concerns about Spencer’s…unique …”

“Why’s he pussyfooting around it? Just tell me I’m suspended and let me go.”

“Spencer! Language!” Sarah’s eyes were focused intently on her young son, her head tilted ever so slightly.

Spencer rolled his eyes and leaned back, sliding down in his seat.

“Mrs. Prata, Spencer is indeed suspended, three days. I am requiring a psychiatric evaluation prior to his return.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just drop out and we can move again.” Spencer stood up, pushed a hand through his hair and looked down at his mom. “Come on. I’m sure dad will love to hear about this.” Hear about it and then beat the ever loving shit out of him. His black eye from last week hadn’t even started turning yellow yet.

Nineteen years old. Spencer and his family had moved so many times he’d lost count. He’d been three months from graduating high school when Austin had moved them clear across the country to Louisiana looking for what he was convinced was one of the last pockets of changelings in the continental United States. 

It was in the small town of Breaux Bridge, the crawfish capital of the world, that he met Emmeline Bowman. Emmeline was everything he’d never been allowed to be: independent, happy, and curious. What started out as infatuation quickly became much more, on both their parts. 

Austin was always quick to find a job at a mechanic shop part-time, for appearances, of course. His mother never worked. She was the stay-at-home, obedient wife, pride and joy every true southern man was after; at least, that was what his dad always said. His mother had liked Emmeline from the moment she met her. And Emmeline, of course, was full of questions. 

It didn’t take but three weeks for the young girl to piece together what it was Spencer’s family was doing in town, despite his best efforts to keep her in the dark. There were only so many ways of explaining massive bruises or random absences from school so soon after starting. Emmeline hadn’t skipped a beat once Spencer confirmed her suspicions. She asked inquisitive questions, offered suggestions on wound care, and even asked how she could help. 

Spencer had tried to shut her down but Austin had stepped in and given her all sorts of responsibilities that not even the most seasoned hunted should have been saddled with. All in an attempt to shorten her life for the lax with which Spencer had confirmed her theory. 

Lucky for Spencer and Emmeline both, the young woman was more than capable of handling herself. After only a few short months of training, she was taking down supernatural creatures without hesitation or falter. While Spencer was very capable at handling werewolves, Emmeline found her specialty in ghosts and ghouls. Not as easily frightened as one would think, Emmeline quickly fell in line within the Prata hunter clan, much to Spencer’s dismay. 

Spencer spent the first year trying to keep Emmeline as far from his father as possible, only to have Austin continue to pull Emmeline for side missions without any other help. Despite his attempts, Emmeline was also skilled at keeping Austin at arm’s length. Though he tried, many times, to get closer to her - both emotionally and physically - she kept him from crossing any lines, swearing up and down to Spencer that his father had never touched her.

26 years old.

Spencer had watched the entire thing happen. He’d watched Austin send Izzy into the vampire nest. Alone. Without checking on the number or intensity of the nest. Despite his insistence on checking things out, doing some simply retcon, Austin continued to shut him down. Emmeline had pulled Spencer back, reminding him not to anger his father. In the split second of conversation, Austin had kicked the door in and Izzy had been swarmed almost immediately. 

Austin didn’t even try to go in and help her. He screamed “retreat!” and left his own daughter screaming for help. Spencer had to be dragged away kicking and screaming by three other hunters who had been with them at the time. 

By the time he found his father, Austin had worked up enough crocodile tears to go in and tell his mother what happened. Without stopping, Spencer walked straight up to Austin and dragged him from the chair. His mother didn’t even try to stop him and by the time Spencer had stopped, Austin was passed out and his face wasn’t even recognizable. 

27 years old.

Shortly after Izzy’s passing, the hunters had moved yet again. Their current situation was eerily similar to the situation in which they had found themselves six months prior only this time, they were tracking wendigos. Typically, a few would pack together to make hunting easier. This time, though, it was a larger number, more dangerous than just a group of 3 or 4. But with the element of surprise, the hunters had the upper hand. 

Despite Emmeline’s planning, the situation ended up being far more than they had anticipated and shortly after going in, things got criss-crossed. Emmeline stood her ground next to Spencer, who was feet from his father. Austin screamed over his shoulder to his son for help and Spencer just stood there. The two locked eyes and Austin knew he wasn’t going to get any help from his son. “Boy, you better hope I don’t make it out of this alive.”

And he didn’t. Spencer stood feet from his father and watched as wendigos ripped his face off and ate his entire body.

When Spencer got home, limping, with more than a few broken ribs, bleeding from multiple open wounds, he simply walked up to his mother, kissed her on the forehead, and went to bed.

Personality

Ah!

I remember I wrote my fanfic with this oc!

her name is  Mizuko and I wrote a fanfic killua and  Mizuko didn’t meet off well