Makeshift bio
Oct. 31st, 2015 05:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deathdrivesName: Reagan Courtemanche
Calling: Neon Gothic Horror Gang Girl
Pantheon: Loa
Player: Sunnydere
Nature: Gambler
God: Baron Samedi
History: Grew up to a single mother, raised by her and the church. As a child, she was into creepy crawly things, bugs and the like, and while she was a genuinely nice girl, she was also naturally off-putting and so grew up fairly isolated. The one normal thing Reagan liked was arts and crafts, a hobby that she often shared with her mother. As she grew up, she grew more interested in the macabre, a point of contention in her household.
Her mother's marriage to an assistant pastor when she turned thirteen was not one. The man was a little more lenient than her mom about her penchant for horror, and his eight year old son was especially endeared to her. Their relationship is still especially close to this day, and for all her social foibles she is very good with kids, and works with them when she volunteers.
As she got older, her relationship with her mother got worse. Most of what she was into was either ignored or discouraged. Her grades were average, but she was good with her hands. Woodworking and stage makeup were both in her wheelhouse, and no one could deny she was talented even if she was ultimately friendless.
But she didn't need people when she had monsters. Dracula, weres of every stripe, even the ridiculousness of the Leprechaun films made their way to her extensive collection. While Reagan wasn't above slashers, her preference was for works that were more chilling than gory. At least at first. The more her and her mother fought, about her clothes and ways, about what seemed to be every part of her, the more she liked to see the ugliness of horror.
Her step-dad's gift of an old van was a gift she didn't waste, and when a job at the craft store didn't keep her out of the house enough, the then-seventeen year old finally found some company with a group of older girls and women.
They called themselves the Gutter Brats, and their way of watching involved wielding weapons and literally fighting both crime and other gangs. They weren't her friends, but they did consider her an asset. Even when she was happy, Reagan just had an air about her that was just this side of off. The gang compared her to the Uncanny Valley, but she was even keeled enough to take it in stride.
Mostly.
Years of this, and it takes that long for her to go out to a party for the first time, a revel in the streets. It's as odd to her as she is to everyone else, she supposed.
It's the night she meets a man that gleams, the god she would come to know as her father.
The Baron.
When she comes home, she asks her mother for explanations, for answers. It starts like this-
"Why do you think I started going to church in the first place?"
Calling: Neon Gothic Horror Gang Girl
Pantheon: Loa
Player: Sunnydere
Nature: Gambler
God: Baron Samedi
History: Grew up to a single mother, raised by her and the church. As a child, she was into creepy crawly things, bugs and the like, and while she was a genuinely nice girl, she was also naturally off-putting and so grew up fairly isolated. The one normal thing Reagan liked was arts and crafts, a hobby that she often shared with her mother. As she grew up, she grew more interested in the macabre, a point of contention in her household.
Her mother's marriage to an assistant pastor when she turned thirteen was not one. The man was a little more lenient than her mom about her penchant for horror, and his eight year old son was especially endeared to her. Their relationship is still especially close to this day, and for all her social foibles she is very good with kids, and works with them when she volunteers.
As she got older, her relationship with her mother got worse. Most of what she was into was either ignored or discouraged. Her grades were average, but she was good with her hands. Woodworking and stage makeup were both in her wheelhouse, and no one could deny she was talented even if she was ultimately friendless.
But she didn't need people when she had monsters. Dracula, weres of every stripe, even the ridiculousness of the Leprechaun films made their way to her extensive collection. While Reagan wasn't above slashers, her preference was for works that were more chilling than gory. At least at first. The more her and her mother fought, about her clothes and ways, about what seemed to be every part of her, the more she liked to see the ugliness of horror.
Her step-dad's gift of an old van was a gift she didn't waste, and when a job at the craft store didn't keep her out of the house enough, the then-seventeen year old finally found some company with a group of older girls and women.
They called themselves the Gutter Brats, and their way of watching involved wielding weapons and literally fighting both crime and other gangs. They weren't her friends, but they did consider her an asset. Even when she was happy, Reagan just had an air about her that was just this side of off. The gang compared her to the Uncanny Valley, but she was even keeled enough to take it in stride.
Mostly.
Years of this, and it takes that long for her to go out to a party for the first time, a revel in the streets. It's as odd to her as she is to everyone else, she supposed.
It's the night she meets a man that gleams, the god she would come to know as her father.
The Baron.
When she comes home, she asks her mother for explanations, for answers. It starts like this-
"Why do you think I started going to church in the first place?"
