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ALIAS: Misty
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OCCUPATION: Hunter
CHARACTER AGE: 28
CHARACTER NICKNAME: Abby
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Joined: 12-February 17
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Last Seen: Jul 18 2017, 12:30 PM
Local Time: Nov 19 2017, 12:30 AM
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Abigail Kingston

Hunters

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Feb 17 2017, 06:22 PM
“Shit.” Word rushed out as Abigail rested against the tombstone she had just been flung into, there were bound to be bruises, possibly even a few cuts and scrapes, after this case was over. She groaned twisted around, resting her head against the cold concrete as she contemplated her next move. It had started out simple enough, as most hauntings did, with a ghost. And thankfully it was a ghost and not a poltergeist. Through a bit of research, more than a few calls to her brother, Abigail had been able to narrow the culprit down to the bones in the grave in front of her, already dug.

That had been the easy part, the digging, but no sooner than she had tossed the salt on the bones than ghost itself had appeared. She had quickly doused it with lighter fluid and was reaching into the pocket of her jacket to grab the lighter when she was oh so unceremoniously flung into the tombstone. Not that is was the first time and she was quite sure it wouldn’t be the last either. Abigail groaned again and wondered just what it was she was doing. She should be at home grading papers or preparing lesson plans and not chasing ghost and running through cemeteries at night.

Maybe after this she’d stop, go back to school, finish and get her degree. Given the way her back was already hurting, it might be worth it in the long run. “Okay, okay…” Abby held a hand up in fake surrender as she attempted to placate the ghost. The other hand was in the pocket of her jacket wrapped around a zippo, because what other choice was there when you had a ghost ready to stop you.

She let out sigh, there was definitely going to be some serious soreness going on in the morning. It was already hurting just to walk the few steps over to the grave, “Just gonna grab my bag…” which she pointed to, not like she was really going to just grab it and maybe if the thing knew she was relenting it would give her time to flick the lighter and toss it into the grave

Only the pissed off ghost as having none of it as it sent her flying into the tombstone yet again. If she kept this up she'd had to buy the person some flowers since they were getting so cozy. Abigail groaned a she shifted to a sitting position, this was so not working.
Feb 13 2017, 12:24 PM
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<h1>Grace Abigail Kingston</h1>
<h2>Abby. 28. Hunter. Emily VanCamp. </h2>

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<h2>dob</h2> <h3>> June 25th</h3>
<h2>occupation/affiliation</h2> <h3>> hunter > all by her lonesome</h3>
<h2>hometown</h2> <h3>> Lincoln > Nebraska > US</h3>
<h2>other</h2> <h3>> no one calls her Grace<br>
"Word to the wise. Don't piss off the nerd angels."</h3>

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Life doesn't give you much choice when you come from a long line of Hunters. Sure the Kingston’s are not as well-known as the Winchesters, but they are -were- a family in the hunting business. It started with Grandpa Kingston, tough man he was, found out thing the hard way. Luckily for him there was a hunter there to save the day. And from then own out he dedicated his life to learning and teaching everything he could to his own family, which brings us to me, Abby Kingston.
<p>
That was just how I raised. Most of my childhood was definitely not the normal, I learned about things that roamed, knew about the monsters and the creatures, and what precautions to take. I learned how to shoot, to do what needed to be done. And I hated every minute of it. Funny now that look back on it.
<P>
In high school I started rebelling, meaning I became the good kid. I focused on my studies and school more than hunting. Literally became the kid most normal parents wanted to have. This irritated my family tremendously. But I was determined to move away from the family business and do something different with my life. Something I wanted to do. Unfortunately, that was not what was in store for me.
<p>
Two weeks into my junior year of college fate stepped in and most of my family was killed by vampires while they were attempting to take tout a nest. Only of my brothers was able to escape and has since become a recluse. I decided that I just couldn't live without doing anything, something. So I took up the mantle of hunting, my way of dealing with what had happened, and well hoping to somehow use revenge to make amends…even if they’ll never know.
<p>
Every so often I get the itch to go back to school, to quit hunting, settle down the best I can and teach. But it never lasts. I always, always get drawn back in, like a moth to a flame.




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<h1>Misty</h1>
<h2>old. PST. pm/email/aim. character #6?.</h2>


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