Mia Gillespie

[Mia]

Name: Mia Gillespie.
Nicknames: Half-pint, Short-stack, Pipsqueak, Munchkin, you get the idea. Most of the time she couldn't care less what people call her, but it all depends on the tone and despite the fact that she doesn't seem to seriously mind, there's nothing Mia hates more than being underestimated because of her size.
Race: Werewolf; born.
Occupation: Rogue; Cycle courier for StopWatch Inc.
Gender: Female.
Skin Color: Caucasian with a light tan.
Age: 197, but looks around twenty.
Clothing: Your average teenage, casual garb; when she's not working Mia tends to toss on t-shirts with punk or skater logos or words scrawled across them, sometimes with button up shirts over them too, mostly in dark colours, black, maroons, navy blues and dark greens, though she's not averse to colour she tends to like it to be bold, really reviling pastels as 'wishy-washy'. Torn jeans and cargo pants usually frayed around where the heels of her shoes catch the material are the staple, skirts are impractical to her. Mia also has a healthy collection of shoes, like any other girl. Hers, however, is comprised mainly of Converse and Etnies, not a strappy sandal or a stiletto in sight. Her favourite jacket at present is a leather one that reaches her belt and has martial 'cuffs', she has a black helmet for her BMXing too. Without fail she carries a messenger bag around with her that she uses for work, when it carries two way radio in addition to the normal contents, like her keys, cell phone, wallet, bicycle lock and her tool kit, as well as her less legal objects that she might find she needs if she's in a tight spot. Riding a bike with a brass knuckle in your back pocket is hardly comfortable after all. Basically, Mia is a tomboy through and through, her clothes, her hair, even her body language practically screams the fact to the outside world. If she wanted to she could probably brush up well, but aside from clubbing, which isn't exactly the same thing, there isn't much of an opportunity for that.
Height: 5'1"
Weight: 97lbs
Tattoos: Mia has a set of plain stars on the inside of each wrist.
Piercings: None, after having a cartilage piercing in her ear pulled out during an Alleycat race, Mia has decided they're not worth the pain.
Jewellery: Far be it for Mia to have any type of jewellery that's girly in any way, she owns a wolf's head pendant that she wears without fail around her neck. Though she doesn't have any earrings or things like that, Mia does collect belt buckles and can usually be found sporting one unusual design or another around her hips.
Body Modifications: Mia has various small scars from her chosen main hobby, which has become her staple for work and play day in and day out. Even given a particularly violent encounter in her past, the scars are minimal, due to the lack of silver.

Some of Mia's Belt Buckles.


Mia's Messenger Bag.


Mia's Shoes.

Mia's Wolf Form

Build: Built much like an average wolf, if a particularly muscular one, Mia's short, coarse pelt allows her whippet fast movement in making her lean form work for her rather than allowing an all over thick fur coat that could hinder her. As a wolf she possesses black, sharp claws and robust paws, a very narrow head shape and tall, ears. Wiry and scrappy are probably the best ways to describe her wolf form, where she might not look powerful at her small height she is every bit as dangerous s a wild wolf, more so given her increased strength and endurance. In her own way, Mia is built for the hunt and the kill, the chase being her specialty.
Height: 3'8".
Weight: 213lbs.
Hair: All over very short and wiry, filling out into a thick 'mane' around her neck running up between her ears where it almost stands on end and offers invaluable protection of her jugular. Mia's tail is also much bushier than that of an average wolf, much like her mane. In terms of colour, her pelt varies through a multitude of brown shades, dark over the top of her tail, spine and the underside of her ''mane' to the white tips of her ears and tail, she also has 'booties' in the form of pale coloured paws.
Eyes: Green.
Defining Marks: Three stripes of the lighter brown fur above her paws, her substantially long, bushy tail and much taller than normal ears. Also, her nose is pink.

Pack
Pack: N/A.
Position: N/A.
Territory: N/A.

Hair
Length: The shortest lengths around her face, hanging to her jaw are too short to be scooped back into a messy ponytail, over all it varies from
Style: Considering Mia cuts her own hair, style is a lose term that doesn't seem to apply to her, the most obviously 'styled' part of her hair is the 'bangs' that tend to hand just a little too long to do really be called bangs, getting in her eyes, and just long enough to be tucked behind her ears.
Color: Brown.

Facial Hair
Length: N/A.
Style: N/A.

Eyes
Color: Brown-hazel.
Oddities: Being a werewolf, Mia's eyes will show their lupine colouring when she is moved to powerful emotions, usually anger, distress or fear, even elation in her case, she can also call upon the colour change at will, to tease or intimidate.

Personality: Mia is above everything proud of her status as a werewolf, she respects nature and reviles humans in her own way, so living in a place like LA might seem like and odd choice for the lycanthrope off the bat, but in truth it's perfect. There are enough people in the city that she never feels alone -something she fears- but if she wants privacy and space for a short stretch of time, whether it's shutting herself in her apartment with a movie or breaking into the skate park at night with her bike, she knows she can do those things and get her head together. Part of her sincerely hates humans and everything they are, narrow-minded, cruel and selfish, but at the same time seems to be able, on very rare occasions, separate the masses from the individuals. Humans who earn her respect and loyalty for whatever reason - and it usually has to be a damn good one - have it for life and therein is one her overriding personality traits; loyalty.

For Mia, the wolf persona more or less overrides the human one, having been brought up as a pack animal, protective of her own and fiercely loyal she exhibits those traits in her day to day life, though diluted by her human form. Those who she considers friends are, in a way, a placebo for her pack, a patch on the hole that is left there for her and they therefore are the people she would fight for and defend if they were ever in harms way. In fact, she can be too loyal to those she cares for, perhaps fearing that letting that slip would result in something terrible happening to them, but whatever the reason, she cannot get past that blinkered, bull-headed determination to help her friends, to save them, even if they don't ask her to. Part of her gravitates casually to other like minded individuals of her species, but she sees in some of the less formal gangs in the city some camaraderie.

In the end of the day, Mia has found a small place for herself in Los Angeles, she's something a street urchin, or a scallywag, she doesn't outlive her means and she is gregarious and invested when it comes to her job but she loves to spend a night in the city just messing around, usually scaring the pedestrians witless by sing the urban jungle as her playground; she has one hell of a mouth on her if provoked, a witty, scathing streak a mile wide, a tenacity and often fiery temper and a sizeable chip off her shoulder when it comes to family but at the end of the day she is trying to make the best of her life and what it has become and all in all she is happier in LA than she has been since she lost her pack.

Weaknesses: As a werewolf, silver is obviously Mia's main weakness; prolonged contact, and to a lesser degree proximity, sparks nausea and dizziness and can result in silver poisoning which would be fatal and minimal contact burns the flesh, this is obviously a major weakness. Her affinity with her wolf could potentially get her into trouble, she cannot back down from a challenge, however petty or inconsequential it might be, just as she cannot stand down if a friend is in trouble, she is likely to rush in head first to help them throwing caution to the winf. Lacking the ability to become bipedal could also be a severe weakness if exploited well enough. The she-wolf fears being alone, severely so; though rare, when she does have a nightmare it often centres around being abandoned, left behind and being alone and often features her birth pack prominently, though she doesn't have pictures of them, she remembers their faces as clearly as the day they died and nowadays they seem to haunt her malevolently. The other most prolific image in her nightmares is that of her brother's murder, it sickens her to her stomach when it replays through her mind and she often wonders if there was something she could have done. In truth she will probably never stop missing her birth pack, and that makes it hard for her to think about joining a new pack, not necessarily a weakness, but even thinking about it make her feel as though she is discarding her dead family as if they mean nothing to her.

Abilities: At her age Mia has control over her wolf on the three nights of the lunar cycle where she used to change involuntarily. The Canadian she-wolf also enjoys the perquisites of lycanthropy; heightened auditory and olfactory senses, uncanny balance, endurance, speed and strength and the ability to leap large distances more or less effortlessly. Given her hobby, she has something of an advantage over human riders given that she is strong and faster than them, something she has to reign in a little when racing competitively, no matter how casual the event. As much as she would like to wipe the floor with the other riders in the city, it would be too suspicious, so she only goes all out when she's riding alone, or when she feels it safe to deliver an ass-whupping to someone who pisses her off.

Obviously she is a very skilled BMXer, pro-level skilled, she can ride Street, Park, Vert, Dirt, and Flatland, as well as perform an impressive number of tricks in Freestyle (base, grind, air and lip). Mia also totes around a guitar, which she tattooed herself suggesting that she's got a knack for graffiti among other things, and the instrument isn't just for show. Old and battered though the damn thing might be, the brunette is more than capable of plucking out a tune on it. In addition Mia speaks Inuktitut (mostly useless in LA) as well as French and German thanks to a pair of European uncles from back home.

Weapons: Mia carries a pair of brass knuckle dusters around with her at all times as well as two butterfly knives. If she has the choice she prefers to fight-fight in her wolf form, as that's the way she's most comfortable on anything resembling a hunt.

Mia's Butterfly Knives.


Mia's Brass Knuckles.

Prized Possessions: Obviously her bike is her pride and joy; a 'stealth' BMX Escalade (complete with axel pegs naturally) she keeps it in top condition, Mia also prizes her Alleycat spoke cards and keeps a corkboard in her apartment with them displayed by pushpin on it. The pendant she wears has been with her for a long time and though she doesn't actually remember acquiring it, she never takes it off. Mia also prizes her slightly beaten up, tattoo'd guitar.

Mia's Escalade BMX.


Mia's 'Soul' Guitar.


Mia's Wolf Pendant.

Home(s): An apartment on Rayne's side of town.

History: Mia was born in 1809 into a tiny pack in the northern territory of Nunavut in Canada, specifically in a small 'settlement' at Qamani’tuaq (Baker Lake). The pack was literally comprised of two families; twelve members, mostly males, Mia's mother died during childbirth and she was raised by her father, taught how to hunt and fight and generally how to take care of herself and her own. It was a glamorous life, but it was all Mia knew and all her cared for was that it continue. They ran under the full moon as a pack, hunted in wolf form only what they needed to eat to live, respecting the humans that lived nearby and the natural cycle of life in the icy wilderness. Even when Mia's first change came upon her she was not confined in anyway, her father ran with her, keeping a watchful eye over his daughter but encouraging her over the years to learn to control it. Through the comforting monotony and balance of the years she did, at one-hundred and thirty, Mia finally resisted the change for the first time, to great praise and for the next five years life only got better. Mia finally felt like she was one of the pack in a way she hadn't been until she had reached that milestone. They were the only non-Inuit group living in their region of the province until 1915 when everything changed and the outsiders started to arrive.

It started with the RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police) who were followed by the Hudson Bay Company who set up a post there, bringing in workers and their families, more and more everyday it seemed to the pack who were not used to the sounds of industrial activity so close to them. Naturally the Alpha pair was concerned; their way of life couldn't hope to survive in the way it had for centuries with the humans so close by, their hunts would be too dangerous, the full moon suddenly because a risky them for them even though they could all by that point control their wolves. Still, it was their home and they refused to be chased off by this new threat of modernisation and for twelve years they seemed to manage to hunt carefully, spreading the story that for as long as they had lived there - naturally naming a drastically reduced time frame - the Inuits had spoken of a pack of wolves who lived in the are and were only seen at night. It was potentially risky, but they decided that it was much wiser to admit that there were wolves around the area rather than deny it completely, in case of an accidental sighting. From then on, only those pack members with a wolf-like form were permitted to hunt, a further precaution in order to preserve the safety of the whole.

1927 saw the arrival of a new threat, missionaries came to Baker Lake and began to build a church, they began to preach and the pack began to worry more than before. S these humans 'spread the word of god' and informed them that they were living a wicked life without the Church, without prayer, but that they could still be 'saved'. Something told them that the fact that their desired parishioners could turn into wolves at will, would not be met with understanding and acceptance. Hunting from then on was to be done in twos so that the rest of the pack, the rest of the family could cover for the missing two if necessary. Mia and her cousin Robert, two of five pack members with forms that could pass for large wolves were out on a such a hunt, staying well clear of the settlement that reeked of humans, hoping to pick up the scent of seals, not much fancying the idea of fishing when a hazard they had not been expecting came their way. When it had been just the pack out there, no humans bar the Inuit who left the small group of foreigners well alone, they had been ever vigilante of the dangers of their northerly home, a hunt meant they were all together, more eyes and ears than was probably necessary, but now reduced to two hunters and a lot more danger to be aware of. Minds preoccupied with staying out of the way of wandering, curious humans, neither Mia nor Robert were aware of the approach of the polar bear.

It struck Robert first, knocking the wolf off his paws and sending him skidding away with a yelp. Mia turned in tome to see a paw swiping down at her; she rolled messily out of the path of the hefty paw, tumbling over her own limbs as she went. The polar bear bore down upon the stricken form of her cousin and Mia launched herself up where it seemed he couldn't, the first hit having surely injured him in some serious way. Running and launching herself at the polar bear, Mia managed to get her maw around the back of it's knack, thick fur clogging on her tongue and the thick scent of the beast flooding her brain. It worked though, a diversionary tactic as it was she felt her canines sink shallowly into flesh and the bear reared up beneath her, attempting to toss her off. Mia held on as long as she could as the animal thrashed widely. Finally it dropped and started to roll and the female lycanthrope threw herself, not entirely of her own volition, out of the way before it could crush her beneath its massive bodyweight. When she managed to get her legs under her again she found that everything had blurred together, she'd hit her head going down and everything was merging into a confusing mass of sights, sounds and scents. A shot cracked off into the night and the polar bear roared. There was blood on the air and she saw Robert's wolfen head rocking to the ground as he blacked out. Panic flared through her. The humans were bearing down upon their location and Robert was already starting to return to his human form; she loped forwards, took him by the scruff of his neck and made to get back tot he pack's home.

To no avail.

The missionaries had spilled out into the night and found the wolf dragging the changing form of a male across the ice. They went to town. Before she knew what was happening she was surrounded by rough woollen clad bodies, grabbing hands, fingers knitting roughly into her fur and pulling her back from her cousin. Again, instinct driven panic rushed through her hotly; the humans were separating her form Robert, her cousin, her pack brother. Mia began straining to get to him, snapping at anything that got in her way, even as fully grown men put all their weight into holding her back she managed to move towards the fallen, human form of her cousin. In the next instant everything fell away.

The human put the shotgun to Robert's head and pulled the trigger, blowing his brains across the ice.

Mia released a howl of horror infused grief. Dimly she could hear the rest of the pack thundering towards the sounds of the gunshots, but other than the dull knowledge that her family was coming, Mia was deaf and dumb to it all. Control was cast aside and she attacked. It seemed to go on for hours, the bloodshed and the screaming, the young female's brown pelt was soon matted and tangled with blood, hers and that of the humans. But she was alone. Bullets and fire has devastated the small pack, the bodies of her brothers and sisters littered the ice, scattered among just as many, if not more humans. Some dead, some dying. Mia limped from the midst of it a shivering wreck having lost everything.

After that, the next few days were a blur; the Inuit had heard the commotion, Mia didn't ask or care how, and they took her in, cleaned and healed her, fed and clothed her and told her she had a place with them if she wanted it. For a few dazed, almost sickly months of numbing loneliness Mia did just that. One day she simply snapped out of it. How could she live in Nunavut anymore? She couldn't hunt the way she was used to, not with out her uncles and brothers and sisters, not without her father. She didn't want to. So she left. Packed up and left for the south, not having a destination in mind, just needing to get out of Canada so that she could figure out what the hell she was going to do next.

Even seventy-nine years later she still doesn't really know. Mia has steadily worked her way south, attempting to acclimatise herself to begin around humans who she looks upon with nothing short of contempt in most cases, and to the modern world as it changed around her. She settled in LA sometime ago and she's content for now, she has a job that she's good at and enjoys but she still feels lost to some degree. In her heart she's a pack animal and always has been, but there's something about joining either one of the packs in Los Angeles that would just feel like a betrayal to her, so for now she's happy playing piggy in the middle as a rogue.