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.