Holly Winchester

Full Name: Holly Marie Winchester
Aliases: Halo
Age: 20
Occupation: Hunter-in-Training
Species: Human
Face Claim: Phoebe Tonkin


Sexual Preference: Bisexual
Marital Status: Single
Current Residence: Sanctus
Social Class: Upper class

Personality: Holly is introverted, snarky and smarmy.  In the right company, she isn't afraid to voice her opinion.  When on missions, she becomes excessively protective of her team. She will ream into anyone who puts the team in danger.

Holly is careful about her snarky nature around her siblings.  If she says something “too insulting,” either one of her parents might go off on her.  Another inkling of resent stems from this feeling.  When she comes back from a successful mission, her introversion peels away long enough for her to drink and socialize.

She prides herself on being self-sufficient and capable.

Appearance:  Holly stands 5' 10” and is muscular and lithe from all of her training.  It seems her dark brunette hair takes after her Uncle Sam and her eyes take after her father's green eyes.  Her preferred style tends to be hiking boots, tank tops, jeans and a leather jacket.



Parents: Dean and Reagan Winchester
Siblings: Mary, Samuel, and Robert Winchester
Important Figures: Holly keeps to herself.
Home Town/Planet: Wilmington, North Carolina

Powers/Skills: Growing up in Sanctus, Holly has always been in top physique.  She's skilled with pitsols, rifles and crossbows (regular bows are not her forte.)  She also is pretty good at hand-to-hand combat, though she doesn't have the discipline to learn a real martial art.  

Holly does study witchcraft and has dabbled with astral projection (which has helped in the field, immensely, when she can find somewhere to keep her physical body safe), scrying and shapeshifting.  She also likes offensive techniques, but those are difficult to practice without running the risk of being caught.

Weaknesses: Like any Winchester, family is a big sore spot for Holly.  She has conflicting feelings over her family, but generally wants to keep them safe.  Plus, she's human, so there's that.

History:

Sanctus was finished when Holly was six, so she has spent most of her life inside Sanctus's walls.  It became apparent, early on, that Dean and Reagan had little attention for Holly.  Not that they didn't try, but they had a prophetess and a sickly child on their hands, on top of other people they felt responsible for.  Between keeping both Mary and Samuel alive, in one way or another, they had little attention or patience to baby Holly.  (As if it wasn't already difficult being the middle child, right?)

So, she learned to rely on herself.  For years, Holly pulled inward.  She was introverted, moody and brooding, but quiet, so no one cared too much.  Her parents didn't worry, since Holly kept her nose clean and kept out of trouble.

As far as they knew.  

In her teenage years, Holly found herself drawn more towards demons than angels.  Perhaps, it was thanks to her vague resentment toward her siblings, who both had connections to the holier species.  Perhaps, deep inside, her father's stint as a demon had made its mark on her DNA.  Either way, whenever a Sanctus-certified demon breezes through, including Crowley, Holly tries to chat them up.  

When Holly was fifteen, Samuel's declining health initially sparked her interest in witchcraft (or that's how she justified her curiosity.)  When no demon would help her - haha, teach Dean Winchester's daughter witchcraft?  No, thank you! - Holly quietly took her studies into her own hands.  For five years, she has studied any and every sect of witchcraft on her own.  From white magic to black magic, from Wiccan to Hoodoo and everything in between.  She frequents the Black Market for tomes, candles and artifacts; she gets herbs from her secret garden, outside Sanctus.

Holly became a H.I.T. when she turned 17.  The Halloween ceremony of 2034, she's running through her Hunter's initiation.  

After successful missions, she can be found at one of the Hunter bars, chugging beer and regaling her newest tale with her team.  Even though she's more sociable, Holly has few to no friends.  Not that anyone in her family notices.

It's fine.  Holly gets it.  Or, at least, that's what she tells herself every time she locks herself in her room to study witchcraft.


Nickname: Al
Contact Information: Protego-et-servio or alt-lifestyle-angel on Tumblr.
Other Characters: Razdriel
Source: Tumblr

Roleplay Sample:

Stumbling into her room, Holly groaned and whipped her jacket off.  Her arms pulsed with pain and the gash along her shoulder throbbed with pain.  She should have gotten back to her room sooner.  Wandering over to her desk, she sat heavily down at her chair and rifled through her drawers.  No one, other than she, could open these particular drawers.  It was an intermediate spell that detected the biometric readings of the witch; if it didn't sense Holly's unique readings, the drawers wouldn't open for anything less than a hatchet.

She pulled out a vial of previously mixed healing elixir.  Pulling a rag out from another drawer, she applied the mint-scented mixture to it and dabbed it along her gash.  Holly hissed as pain laced over the cut and leaned back in her chair as the potion forced her flesh to heal quicker.  In only a few minutes, her gash was scabbed over.  She couldn't heal it entirely without questions being raised.  Though, so far, Holly had done a good job of keeping her secret.

After bandaging her wound, Holly slumped in her chair.  She was emotionally, mentally and physically spent.  Both the mission and the party at the bar squeezed the energy from her.  They had spent a good day tracking a small pack of hellhounds, unleashed close to Sanctus.  They were meant for Mary, probably meant to catch her during one of her “escape attempts” from Sanctus.  Holly felt a little guilty, thinking of the hell-beasts and their dying cries.  They were hounds, after all, and they were just following orders from ther masters and mistresses.

Holly shook her head violently as she realized she was feeling sympathy for the hellhounds.  Her father would absolutely die if he knew.  With every hunter mission, coupled with delving further into the craft, the ache became stronger. Sympathy for monsters.  Not just the reformed monsters or the relatable monsters, but the creatures out of pure nightmare.

Though, truth be told, she wasn't even sure if that was a sign of losing herself or if that was a sign of an inherited soft heart from Uncle Sam.  That thought gave Holly some comfort.  Well, emotionally.  Physically, everything ached from a combination of a mission well-done and her bar hopping; her arms, her legs, her back, her head.  Aboslutely everything.  Before her eyelids could grow heavier, the woman hauled herself from the chair and staggered into bed.

Accepted! Please add yourself to the who's who! Phoebe is already on the Face Claim ^^