†Abigail†

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God bless the coffin they carry me off in God bless the coffin they carry me off in They carry me off inI’ve walked amongst the living dead And I’m sick of the voices that are in my head I’ve taken the ride and I’ve danced with death I had nine lives and I’ve got one leftCause I’ve got what you want You've got that I need Let’s get together and keep me forever Yeah waaaaaaahh!I’m harder than a coffin nail I’ve been to heaven; I’ve been to hell I’m harder than a coffin nail I’ve been to heaven; I’ve been to hellI never thought I’d need someone’s help (I don’t need your help)‘Cause I’ll handle it all and do it by myself (I’ll do this by myself)I'm never alone ‘till I hit rock bottom (I’m not afraid to fall)I’m so fucking stubborn and so fucking rotten (Hit the bottom)Cause I’ve got what you want You've got that I need Let’s get together and keep me forever Yeah waaaaaaahh!I’m harder than a coffin nail I’ve been to heaven; I’ve been to hell I’m harder than a coffin nail I’ve been to heaven; I’ve been to hellGod bless the coffin they carry me off in... God bless the coffin they carry me off in...Cause I’ve got what you want You've got that I need Let’s get together and keep me forever Yeah waaaaaaahh!I’m harder than a coffin nail I’ve been to heaven; I’ve been to hell I’m harder than a coffin nail I’ve been to heaven; I’ve been to hell
God bless the coffin they carry me off in!
God bless the coffin they carry me off in!
"Ever since I can remember, ever since I was a child, I've had this knife of sadness in my heart. And as long as it's there, I'm strong, I'm untouchable. But the moment I take it out... I'll just die."
Name: Abigail Whistler
Nickname: Whistler, Abby, occasionally: The Hellion
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 110
Hair: Naturally a light brown, but she's been known to dye
Eyes: Hazel
Race: Caucasion
Religion: Catholic originally, but she's become a conniseur of Biblical history
Nationality: American
Languages: English, a little Spanish
Vehicle(s): Yamaha MT-01, black and silver in color
Weapon(s): Preferably the bow ... but she's creative
Fighting Style(s): Various forms of mortal combat, and yeah, she likes the ninetendo game too
Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous, though predominantly right handed
Favorite Food(s): Real Mexican food
Most Hated Food(s): anything involving animal organs
Allergies: Believe it or not ... garlic
Marital Status: Single
Favorite Music: House, dance, trip hop, whatever kids listen to these days
Favorite Movie(s): Nosferatu and anything by Tarrantino
Mark(s) and Tattoo(s): A dove tattoo on right hip
Talents:
Abigail is a weapons specialist with infasis on archery and hand held artillery, (i.e. guns and explosies). Her bow and various arrows are of her own design and fashion. She is also well versed in various forms of mortal combat, including disciplined martial arts and fencing.
History:
I'm not really a big talker, but I'll tell you what you want to know. I was born out of wedlock, to a man named Abraham Whistler. If you don't mind, I'll leave my mother's name out of this. My childhood was ... weird, to say the least. Don't ask what watching your father come through the door with a vampire will do to a seven year old. I slept with garlic by my bed until I was 12. It was hell on my allergies. But you don't need to know anything about that.
In school, I was always the quiet type. I think it always worried my mother, and she got more than a few phone calls from teachers who thought I should open up more. Regaurdless of my social activities, I kept my head down and my grades up. I was the Valadictorian of my high school class and graduated from a local private school in New York at the age of 16. God, was I glad to get out of that place. Teenagers can be complete idiots. Despite my scholarships, I couldn't yet afford to go to school ... so through connections of my father's, unknown to me at the time, I aquired a desk job at one of the most prestigious private investigation agencies in the city. I was captivated by it all. At my persistance, I began to tag along with the most accomplished of the detectives there. Later, I would learn that my tutelage there had all been planned, but as I said, at the time I knew very little of my father's involvement. I learned some of my most valued skills there. I can profile a room in a manner of seconds ... right down to the water stain on the ceiling in the corner. I can gauge a person's reactions and personality by the way they dress and move. I've been quiet all my life. Trust me, I've learned the value of presence and body language.
After two years of working at the detective agency, I was well on my way to a bankroll for college. My mother had never been big on banks and I kept most of what I had in a box in the house. Looking back, I blame myself for not being more considerate of the neighborhood we were living in. I wasn't there that night ... but from what I could gather in the aftermath, my mother had died trying to protect my future. To her, college had been everything. She'd known how hard I had worked to earn that money. I promise if I ever catch whoever broke into our apartment that night ...
Anyway, I didn't really sit down to share what had happened in my life. I was tired of always being the victim of circumstance. I'd spent my entire life buckling down, preparing to get from one tragedy to the next. It was time to fight back.
I knew what Abraham was into. I'd known for years. Hell, I wouldn't have cared if he worked for the devil ... he was a survivor. So, at the tender age of 18, left with no money for school and little idea of what I wanted to do with my life any longer ... I tracked my father down ... and told him I wanted in. If I knew then what I know now I might have given it some further thought. He was reluctant. At one point in time, I'd had siblings, but a drifter came through and made my father choose what order they would die in. The drifter was a vampire. Go figure, right? He admitted to me that he had been involved in providing me a job in which I could learn to defend myself with my intellect. He had wanted better for me ... better than fighting dirty the way he'd always had to. Well, my life wasn't clean anymore. I was persistent. Eventually, he relented and taught me the tools of the trade ... all done in secret for multiple reasons. In the end, I count myself lucky for those few precious years I was allowed with my father. I'm more like him than I ever knew. Things in my head became clearer.
He was killed last year. A group of inside familiars had organized the police force against he and his protigee. Trust me, they didn't get away with it.
The closest thing I had to a family after that were the Nightstalkers. They were a rag tag group, I'll give you that ... but they were all I had. It all started with a vampire named Hannibal King. I found him a year or so before my father died, after crashing a vampire party thrown Danica Talos. Something about the guy stuck out. Couldn't really tell you why I took the chance to cure him, but I did and it worked. With the help of an experimental drug formulated by my father, Somerfield managed to treat him with the cure. Together, we built our team. As a former vampire, he's one of our best assets, even if he is kind of a pain in the ass. Not too long ago, the death of my father and the development of a weapon called Daystar, spurred us to join forces with that protigee I was talking about ... Blade... the Daywalker.
We were going to take on our oldest vampire to date: Drake. That's Dracula, if you were alive 5000 years ago. The myth didn't hold a candle to the real thing. Thanks to Danica pointing the bastard in our direction, our entire organization was all but wiped out. He nearly killed King too, but having already incopacitated him in an earlier fight, he and Somerfield's daughter Zoe, were taken for bait. Blade and I took it. It was a long battle, but in the end, we won out. Not too long ago, I heard the newer vampires that survived the Daystar Virus had nicknamed Blade, King and I "The Trinity." God help me, it felt blasphemous but I couldn't help but smirk to myself as I walked on by. I was proud.
All that shit was just the beginning of my story. That was three years ago. The Nightstalkers are almost 5,000 strong now: a well trained army capable of running themselves in individual sleeper cells. My name is a dangerous one now and tends to get people I love killed ... so six months ago, I stepped away from the organization that I built from the ground up. I still keep in contact but then I always did work better alone.
For whatever reason, I embraced this life of a vampire slayer quickly and easily. What can I say? I'm my father's daughter. This is all I know.
And I'm damn good at it.