JONES, Jaylee [WIP]

[taibutt]

[app] Jaylee Jones[/app]

[app]Full Name:[/app] Mariaden Callahan
[app]Preferred Nickname/Alias:[/app] Alias; Jaylee Jones, nicknames: Jay, Jonesy
[app]Gender:[/app] Female
[app]Age:[/app] 28
[app]Sexual Orientation:[/app] Primarily straight, but what's between your legs doesn't really matter to her. Aromantic.
[app]Member Group:[/app] Hunter
[app]Canon or Original:[/app] Original

At first glance, Jaylee is just your average girl next door. Freckled cheeks, slightly tanned skin, deep mahogany waves that turn crimson in the summer with bangs that cover her eyes. Nothing to really look at. Which is fine with her. She'd rather not attract attention in the first place.

Jaylee has a very boyish figure, skinny and flat-chested with boney hips and chicken legs. In her younger years, she would despair at her lacking sex appeal, but it seems to work in her favor as she got older. Not that she looks much older than eighteen. But her lacking curves leave less to get in the way of fight, less to get hit by stray shotgun rounds, easier to run. Plus, she can just throw on a tanktop and a flannel in the morning and be good to go.

Despite this, the redhead does know how to look female. She owns a variety of feminine clothing and makeup for if and when she needs to be undercover, get more information out of a person(it's amazing how trusting people are of a pretty face), or just to catch attention of some monster or another. Until you get close enough to see her eyes. There's something akin to hard insanity in there. It gives her a wild look, an edgy aspect to her movements. Not many people stick around long after seeing her eyes, of which bordered on electric green.

[app]Face Claim:[/app] Emma Stone

[app]Likes:[/app]

• Her truck
  
• Oldies music
  
• Farm animals
  
• Alcohol. Lots of alcohol
  
• Preferably tequila
  
• Getting her way
  
• Risk
  
• Adrenaline rushes
  
• Intelligent conversation
  
• Being left alone

[app]Dislikes:[/app]

• Loud noise or people
  
• Being in a room with more than five human beings
  
• Truck breaking down
  
• Getting caught unawares
  
• Vampires
  
• Angels
  
• Beer
  
• Shotgun kick
  
• Orange juice
  
• “Modern” music

[app]Strengths:[/app]

• Lithe - Able to squeeze through most small spaces
  
• Young appearance - Can appear to be as young as sixteen if needed
  
• Bachelor's degree in Mythology
  
• Growing up with hunters as parents – She knows the lore and has the basic instincts engraved in her being
  
• Ability to completely detach and analyze her emotions

[app]Weaknesses:[/app]

• Alcohol
  
• Small children – Such as infants, or toddlers
  
• Vampires – Seeing one will usually send her into a blind rage or panic attack, depending on how sober she is
  
• Doesn't know when to quit – The phrase “give up” has no meaning to Jaylee. If she starts something, she damn well finishes it
  
• Can't deal with incompetence – If someone can't do their job right, she's just as likely to hinder them as help them
  
• Mistrustful – Even if you've given her no reason to be suspicious, Jaylee automatically doubts your motives

[app]Fears:[/app]

• Finding Ole's ghost, or anything that remotely resembles Ole
  
• Being confronted by everyone she's betrayed

[app]Secrets:[/app]

• Has a grudging respect for demons, and will usually simply exorcise them. For all that they do that's horrible, they have loyalty down to a tee.
  
• Her real name, Mariaden Callahan, is only known by a handful of people

[app]Habits and Quirks:[/app]

• Won't make eye contact, instead opting to move around the room and focus her eyes on whatever she's working on
  
• Usually won't give a verbal response when hearing her name, instead walking closer or just tilting her head in your direction to indicate you have her attention
  
• She'll cover or smash every mirror in her motel room. Which of the two happens depends on how drunk she is

[app]Overall Personality:[/app]

At least 2 or 3 paragraphs.

[app]Family:[/app]

• Ole Roselli – Hunting partner - Deceased
  
• All blood-related family dead

[app]Overall History:[/app]

On September 7, 1984, Mariaden Rosaline Callahan was born. Her birth wasn't anything dramatic, no manger in the stables or blizzard outside the cottage. It was 10:41 PM in Crescent City Hospital in Crescent City, California. There weren't any complications, she didn't have any defects. It was a normal birth.

Her mother, Maria, was elated to have a little girl, if scared out of her mind. Her father, Aiden, wasn't in town and hadn't been for weeks. Maria was terrified that he'd run off(again) and she'd have to raise her child alone. They were a hunter couple, and Aiden had been on a demon hunt the month before Mariaden was born.

[app]Member Title:[/app] Do I look sociable to you?

[app]Roleplaying Sample:[/app]

She still dreams about her sometimes. Still dreams about the bad jokes and sarcastic banter. She could hear the gears turning as the little woman worked on the truck(much to Jones' distaste), could hear the sneer in her voice when she said 'Mariaden.'

It hurts.

And Jonesy will wake up in a cold sweat, her mahogony curls plastered straight as the strands stick to her freckled skin. She makes a note to wash some lemon juice on her shoulders, throwing thin legs over the edge of the bed and shivering when the soles of her feet touch cold wood. Jonesy instantly reached for her glass of tequila, downing the remaining contents as she stood and staggered into the bathroom.

Her shattered reflection stares back at her, red-eyed and accusing. Why don't you stop drinking, Mariaden? Why don't you let her go, Mariaden? Why don't you get on with your life, Mariaden? She threw her glass at the mirror, stumbling back against the wall. The smack that resounds through the room from her skull connecting with the plaster doesn't immediately register, the pain taking a moment to reach her brain. It's a welcome distraction.

Glass cuts her feet and hands as she gathers up the various shards, glaring at the slivers of reflection. She hated her reflection. She hated it because all she could see was a tanned, black haired woman behind her, making fun of everything she said. Sometimes, Jonesy actually did see that woman. Which made everything hurt more.

Jonesy's palms are a mess as she sits back down on her motel room bed, sloppily wrapping gauze over the glass cuts and turning the television on. Her thumb flicks over the mute button and she stares blankly at the screen. She turned her head to the bed over, but there wasn't anyone in it. There never was anymore.

---

[app]Player Name:[/app] Tai, Taibutt, Jonesy
[app]Player Age:[/app] Over 12 and under 18
[app]Years Roleplaying:[/app] Five this year
[app]Where You Found Us:[/app] Proboards support
[app]Other Characters:[/app] Nope
[app]Favorite Supernatural Episode:[/app] No Rest for the Wicked
[app]Favorite Supernatural Character:[/app] Is everyone an option? No? Then I'd have to say Sam.