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Rowan Barnabas

"If you let one go, you might as well sign your own death warrant."

0 · 554 views · located in Pennsylvania

a character in “Bellingstone, Pennsylvania”, as played by WilPen

Description

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"If you let one go, you might as well sign your own death warrant."



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| {Name} |
Rowan Mackenzie Barnabas

| {Nickname} |
Rowan doesn't use nicknames; though people that want to annoy her use them anyway.

| {Age} |
26

| {Birth Date} |
June 11th

| {Gender} |
Female

| {Sexual Orientation} |
Heterosexual

| {Coven or Pack?} |
Both will face my wrath.

| {Role} |
Deputy - Second In Command



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| {Appearance} |
Rowan has a preoccupation with looking good. Looking good feels good. Her hair is always done and her makeup is flawless. That isn't to say she is necessarily girly, her confidence is tied closely to her appearance. She exercises regularly even when she isn't on an active hunt. Rowan has always followed the trends in terms of clothing. Her closet isn't top of the line, but it isn't outdated by any means. Flannels, jumpers, and cutesy dresses litter her wardrobe, but that isn't all. For hunts she has a selection of comfortable clothes that she can run for her life in.

| {Likes} |
    ♥ Archery || Her weapon of choice is a silver tipped arrow laced with vervain; you never know which one is necessary.
    ♥ The Hunt || These monsters have no business hurting people. Taking them out is all I can do.
    ♥ Reading || You'd be surprised how freeing a simple book is when you know things of nightmares actually exist.
    ♥ Partying || It's best to party like there is no tomorrow. In my line of work, any day could be your last.
    ♥ Casual Companions || Commitment is for people with a future.
    ♥ Sudoku || Best to keep the mind sharp and the stakes sharper.
    ♥ Sailing || There is no feeling like spinning in a circle and seeing nothing but water.

| {Dislikes} |
    ✘ Going Weaponless || Why bother going anywhere that you can't sneak a weapon.
    ✘ Vampires || You either die a hero or live long enough to become a soulless husk parading around as a human.
    ✘ Werewolves || If you lie down with these dogs, you're gonna get more than fleas.
    ✘ Witches || Some say they are the next step in evolution, I think they made a deal with the devil.
    ✘ Bras || They are as much a prison as Guantanamo.
    ✘ Fire || One stray spark and it all goes up in flames.
    ✘ Rats || Disgusting little diseased vermin, or is that werewolves?

| {Personality} |
Rowan has a habit of coming across as strict. While it's true when lives are at stake, in casual conversation she is just a rather stiff person. She's always had trouble separating the need to be a good example to her fellow hunters and a human being. Her jokes seem forced and don't usually make sense outside her head, but she tries very hard to connect with others. Sometimes she falls short of her goals, but at least she comes across as genuine.

In her defense, she's really a very compassionate person. Rowan's experiences with loss has left her unable to process emotion in a normal manner. Death of a comrade could leave her with so many conflicting emotions that she eventually chose not to have them. That said, she's realized that is only a half life and has done her best to open up to others.

| {History} |
Rowan wasn't always a member of the Hunters. Before, she had a happy family life that was fairly normal. A nuclear family with 3 children, Rowan was the oldest, lived in a beautiful home on the water front in Louisiana. The idyllic dream came to an end when a family trip to New Orleans left the family down 4 members. New Orleans is known for its vampire culture, but the naive Barnabas' were caught unawares by a coven of vampires. It was small enough for them to let Rowan slip through their fingers and call for help. Unfortunately, no one would believe the 15 year old girl saw any real vampires. After a few hours, Rowan accidentally stumbled upon a branch of hunters. Finally, someone took her seriously.

Upon arrival, it was clear they were too late. The vampires had fled the half sunken riverboat they had dragged Rowan's family to. The bodies in the water were solid enough to bury along with any hope she had of a normal life. The hunters invited her along to their base until they could find out what to do with her, but she ended up enrolling with them and loving it.

Rowan has since moved branches, wanting some distance between herself and her past. The latest move to the Eastern branch proved fruitful when she was selected to move to the tourist trap known as Bellingstone. It's the start of a new adventure doing the same old thing.



| {Theme Songs} |
Tove Lo - Talking Body | Alessia Cara - Here | Stephen - Crossfire
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| {Face Claim} |
Crystal Reed

| {Dialogue Color Code} |
#989e3f

| {Writer} |
WilPen

So begins...

Rowan Barnabas's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Rowan Barnabas Character Portrait: Desmond Joseph Grey Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Desmond J. Grey
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Desmond was around during the ceremony. He did not particularly find interest in listening to the flowery speeches and the presentations. The hum of activity was jarring, and the lights too colorful and distracting, but worst of all was the sea of people. Events like these were just more reasons for large crowds of people to collect into one area. Every hunter knew that just because an area was concentrated, didn’t make it any less dangerous for the public. For hunters the fear was walking among so many people, and not knowing who was human or not.
He had a small flip phone in his pocket which buzzed and lit up when he received the call. Leaning on the rails of a vestibule to one of the outcropping decks facing the festival, Desmond pulled out his phone and accepted the call. He didn’t speak. Whoever had his number called because they already knew who would answer.
The mayor, accompanied by screaming in the background, and Desmond immediately tensed at the sounds of panic. Immediately he knew it was serious. The mayor need not say any more. Desmond was already moving in response to the attack.
Desmond received a text as he made his way to the crime scene. It was a short distance away luckily, because there was no driving near since the roads were blocked off, and the crowd was still in the streets, and only moved more quickly out of the way as sirens filled the air, flashing red and blue. An ambulance followed, honking its horns so loudly that Desmond could feel his ears ringing.
He glanced down at his phone just as he was reaching the unveiling of the statue, the police were coming in, and the EMTs were taking the body down and putting him carefully in a body bag. It was Rowan, good, she must have already been here, and perhaps she was close by.

To: Rowan
Near the statue. We need to figure out a plan. Let’s meet at the WB


Westfall Bar was close by. Quiet, out of the way, but near their location, conveniently enough. The owner harbored his own paranoia of the supernatural, with wards of his own throughout the bar, silver, blessed objects, a weapon loaded with various anti supernatural ammunition, and nearly a whole arsenal designed to fight against the inhuman. Coming here, Desmond worked a deal with him to use one of his rooms upstairs as a base of operations, after seeing his proven defenses against werewolves and vampires. The keeper said he’d been suspicious about the town for a long time, and with good reason too. He allowed Desmond to rest the upper floor and use it to help clean this city of the impure.
The bar was sandwiched between two buildings on the street. It was two stories, and built with an old-time feel. The inside mirrored this theme with a classic English design.
Upstairs was the room the hunters borrowed it was a simple open space with only one window that was heavily barred, with a large table and a map. They didn’t keep their plans out in the open to unwelcome eyes and crafty beings trying to get in on their movements, but there were photos of various suspects posted on a board. This place had just been established here as their main meeting area, and so far it has proven to be the safest for the newly arrived hunters.
Desmond climbed the steps after greeting the bar keep and being let in past the front counter. He moved upstairs and walked down the hall and unlocked the heavy door. Home sweet home, one might say. He sighed and pulled out his phone, clicked around a bit through his messages and snapped it back shut before he raked his fingers through his hair. He could help but feel subdued excitement in his blood. Every sense as a hunter was thrilled that a crime happened so quickly- that the suspicions that brought them here were right. Bellingstone was now on the Hunter’s radar. The supernatural was indeed here… And they were nasty creatures.

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