Jill Angella Coburn

Birthdate: November 1st, 2036
Birthplace: Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, UCAS
Nationality: UCAS
Metatype / Gender: Human, Caucasian / Female
Current Residence: New Orleans, CAS
Height/Weight: 5' 5" / 114 lb (34B/22/31)
Hair: Auburn, cut to just below eye-level and swept back with a bit that refuses to stay and falls forward over her face.
Eyes: Bright blue/green. In dimmer light, they have a distinct glow.
Distinguishing Features: Three small bullet wounds on the right side of her chest.
Physical Description: Almost always wearing her old faded black(used to be) long coat, most of her clothing tends to be dark red and green. Not exactly the most imposing person, she often has a look of intense focus or child-like innocence on her face, which makes her look even younger than her 19 years.
Psychology:
Traits: Quick-witted, bright and cheerful.
Motivations: None readily apparent.
Lifestyle: Street.

Born to a fisherman and his wife in Pembroke, a small fishing town outside of Yarmouth, on the south-eastern coast of Nova Scotia, Jill was raised with the sea in her blood. The mysterious mark of her eyes made her something of an outcast from all but her family.

Her parents took her to Mer'lise Braanae, a seer who lived in the forest beyond the town, and though she could see in Jill the power lying within, she could not see it's nature, nor did Jill seem to posses any specific talents, until she was six when she fell from the ladder up to the top of the water tower, falling almost 30 feet, she sustained almost no injury, simply spraining her ankle.

Mer'lise assensed her again, still seeing no more detail but now the level of magic within her had risen, apparently manifesting at this brush with death.

The small coastal towns of the east coast of what used to be Canada, many of the families there living as their grandparents had before the end of the last century. Jill was the youngest of five brothers and sisters, and would be the only one who would eventually leave Nova Scotia. Her and her family, and their generations before that all lived in Pembroke, taking the bus to school in Yarmouth every morning.

She lived in this quiet fashion all of her young life, until when she was 16 and her oldest brother David, on his first trip out on his own boat died with his three best friends who were his fishing crew. A storm blew out up from the south, running up along the coast until it hit the shallower waters between Nova Scotia and the mainland, where the storm broke in full force, the ocean surging like a living thing. All that was found of the remains of the boat was Ryan Johanessburg floating dead on one of the life rings.

Jill nearly died that day, realizing that one day, she too, all of them. The whole town would eventually be claimed by the sea or by time. Not a fate she was willing to accept for herself, she left, taking a ferry from Digby over to St. John, she began her slow journey south, along the coast.

She stayed sometimes a month or two at a time in places she'd visit, staying until her welcome was worn out or she became restless again. Moving south from St John, she went to Bay Harbor, Oakland and then Portland.

In Oakland Jill almost got ran down by a guy and some girl with bizarre hair driving a motor home with blown out windows. Further south into Portsmouth and then on to Boston where she stayed with a junk collector named Skinner who lived in a sprawling building he'd built and suspended under a bridge.

Down to Providence and New Haven, then over to New York. In New Jersey she stumbled into what looked like a standoff between two wierded gangs in an abandoned mall until a dirty man followed by a black haired boy half dragging a pale blond girl pushed past them all and they all began to grudgingly leave.

In Newark she met a girl named Mink who had glowing red eyes. She was a delivery girl, she said, but Jill never saw Mink deliver anything, just scream around the city on her bike and freak people out. She met a wierd shaman there who everyone said was named Scott, but that's not what he said it was. Scott taught her how magic worked, and saw within her a narrow talent, which he taught her to bring forth.

Philadeplhia started her on a ride on a jet bike inland a ways with a boy name Maglev Tolstoi, who was on a "quest" for lost knowledge, she left him in Atlantic City on his return to Philly. In Atlantic City she met another guy from Philadelphia named Warren who was there with nine grand he'd stolen from his boss and was blowing like he had a week to live. Jill hung with him a few days and helped him along with his money.

In Baltimore she got caught lifting a bunch of clothes from a store in the mall and after failing to track down her real identity, they placed her in a group home where she befriended a small asian girl named Sandii, who said she was from Hosaka. The Edge, she told Jill, that's what she was looking for. Sandii told her about her old friends Fox and Moenner. Hiroshi. Dead now, and Chedanne with permanent brain damage in Tokyo. Before Jill ran away, Sandii sold her a cheap chrome Chinese .22 with red plastic grips.

In DC she wandered into a protest at the Washington Monument and joined a girl named Molly who had chrome mirrored eye covers melded into her skin. They went to Richmond and then Norfolk together. In Columbia, Molly dissappeared without a word. They'd been together for more than two months, and she just left. Jill spent two more weeks in Columbia trying to find her, but eventually gave up and mored further south, down into Georgia now, to Savannah.

Savannah was pretty fragging boring, if you asked Jill, but she stayed and worked in a fish stand on the beach there for a few months anyways. In Waycross, Jill got shot by a blond drunk guy trying to rob a gas station. She was flown to a hospital in Silver Spring, where they removed the slugs from her lung and kidney. She was there for 8 months while her wounds healed. She skipped out to Apalachicola before the doctors could charge her for the surgeries.

When she left again, she followed the southern coast further west, into Panama City and then Warrington. In Mobile she met a country singer and sang with him in bars in the city. Getting bored now with her wandering, she went to Baton Rouge in search of a more interesting kind of adventure.

Eventually a liquor store robbery went bad and she backtracked a bit to New Orleans, to heal up for a while in the run down docks of the city.

She settled for a while after that, beginning to tire of her constant wandering over nearly four years, and started working the docks, moving cargo for whoever would pay. Living on the ragged edge, halfway between the streets and a real life, working the docks just doesn't pay well, and began returning to minor crime to get by again, lack of real work driving her back to old habits of finding adventure and danger by getting into places she shouldn't be.

But hey, what's life if you're going to play it nice and safe? Dying old and forgotten or lost at sea in some dying village in a whole part of the country filled with dying villages.

NEXT!