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Rune Marx
#1
Rune doesn’t exist. Well her fingerprints and DNA sit in countless offices around the world, lost in databases of anonymous persons of interest, but as far as the girl they came from, no records were ever made.

She was born in an old cabin on a lake in Minnesota, far from hospitals and officials of all kinds. Her mom didn’t survive the birth. In fact, her mom was dead when Rune was cut from her uterus. It’s a long story, and kind of a sad one. Although Rune has mixed feelings about it all when she thinks about the circumstances that started her life. Sometimes, usually when things have been slow for a while and she is sitting around waiting for the next job to land in her lap, she lays in bed and sips wine from a plastic cup, preferably with a curly straw (and she’s of course a connoisseur when it comes to the boxed brands), and thinks about what life would have been like if her mom.....hadn’t been possessed by a south-american demon.

That’s pretty much what happened. At eight months pregnant, for whatever reason, a wefuke spirit descended upon her mom, who then proceeded to call her brother (Uncle Seth) in Minnesota and demand to see him. That it was a matter of life and death, and given that Uncle Seth was an Atharim hunter, he actually took the matter seriously.

“Mom” didn’t tell Uncle Seth that she wasn’t coming alone, but it didn’t take long for him to realize something was terribly wrong. Five minutes inside his cabin, mom’s “boyfriend” (who was not Rune’s dad) attacked while “mom” sat back and watched. That night, the sounds of slaughter drowned the crickets. Seth always kept shotguns closeby (and colts and pistols and machetes and...). Even though “mom’s” partner failed to infect a known Atharim, she remained calm at the kitchen table. It took Uncle Seth a few minutes to figure out what Mom was, but even before he did, he knew his sister was already gone.

Then, suddenly Seth had a baby he had no idea what to do with. There was nobody to care for the infant girl, nobody but him. His parents, also Atharim, were already dead. He had no other family, except the Atharim. So he kept the baby and raised her as honestly as possible. By the time Rune was old enough to go to kindergarten, but of course never actually attended a school, she knew monsters were real and Santa was a joke. She learned how to clean a gun before she ever had her first doll, something she bought at a garage-sale at this old stone church across the street from the hotel they were in that week. She also bought this giant, gooey chocolate chip cookie, not the kind spinning in warm-racks in gas stations, but an actual homemade cookie in a ziploc baggy. It was kind of a let-down: the gas-station Otis Spunkmeyers were better. That was also the day she decided she was going to avoid churches at all costs, but more on that later.

Rune did get to go to school, kindof. All with fake identifications. It was all online, but by then the American states had distance learning as options. It was originally meant to help kids being “bullied” …which was a totally lame reason to not go to school. If a bully tried to keep Rune out of school, she’d punch them in the nose and tell them to leave her alone. Anyways, Seth took advantage of the handy development. While they zipped along interstates, Rune had her laptop on her knees and wrote history essays, or scribbled out math problems, or whatever, just like any other kid.

But she wasn’t just like any other kid. Not only was she raised by an American Atharim, but she was psychic. Or maybe she was a medium. She was never quite sure about the difference. What that means is she can see spirits. Not just any spirit, and they’re not at all like in the movies. She’s not a spirit guide. She definitely doesn’t do trances. And she definitely doesn’t know if there’s “another side.” But she gets a feeling of something familiar but also of something completely out of phase with this world. Then, she’ll see one. It’s not quite in her normal vision, but like looking through a highway heat-mirage in the desert. Sometimes they’re wefuke, though it did her and Uncle Seth no good since they couldn’t be killed unless they possessed someone, and who knew when that was going to happen. Sometimes they were ghosts, walking around like they’re unaware they’re dead (think Bruce Willis). Sometimes they were something else. These were spirits that Rune has no clue whether or not they’re dangerous, but its safer to assume they are.

By far the more useful trick than tracking spirits is that she can sense feelings of wrongness. Like if a soul, an actual human soul, expresses a profound and deep emotion, like of rage before a murder or horror during a rape or thrill during a feeding (though it’s questionable if rougarou have souls, its like the emotion’s strength imprints on the spirit world. Rune can follow their footprints like tracks in the snow.

Her full name is Runehilda. Yah, yah. Uncle Seth went through an emo-phase for a while; actually, he’s still kind of emo. So lame. Rune has moods. Sometimes they’re dark and depressed, but she never descends into anything unmanageable, definitely nothing a good hunt can’t cure. Usually she’s quite chipper. Even though she’s pretty much on the edge of her seat all the time, waiting for the world of monsters to just knock on her hotel room door. Uncle Seth gave her his blessing to go to Moscow and make her membership in the Atharim official. So now, at twenty-two years old, she’s on her own, fearless and stoked about Moscow.

At all costs she will avoid going in churches and cemeteries. They are either fraught with powerful emotions or haunted by hovering spirits, both of which nearly overwhelm her. The last time she was in a cemetery, she became so disoriented and confused, she was nearly wasted by a stray chupakabra.

Rune is a fit, physical girl. She's been carrying duffel bags bigger than she was since forever. For almost as long, she's been carrying rucksacks stuffed with supplies: the grunt in her very own little one-woman army. Her hair color changes on a semi-regular basis: about the time she gets tired of the current color combination (or the dye fades). Rune does rock the side-shave though, it must be some of that emo in her blood. She likes pretty things, jewelry and the like, but doesn't go crazy wearing anything that isn't tactical. The less to grab at, the better, she says. So she makes up for it with makeup: heavy lashes, dark eyes, bright colors and red lips. As she tends to be pale from not getting enough direct sun (her lifestyle is pretty night-centric), her style is all the harsher. Only a fool who doesn't know what he's doing would mess with her, otherwise, Rune takes care of herself.

Also, never, ever call her by her full name: Runehilda. Just to be safe.


Edited by Rune Marx, Sep 20 2013, 06:39 PM.
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#2
Sometime around 2030 somewhere in the US

Rune rolled out of bed at some point with no idea what time it was. The clock on the table between the two drab beds was covered with the pillow she'd chucked at it sometime after Uncle Seth left that morning. That stupid light was so bright! Oh for the days to stay in hotels that had clocks with dimmers.

Rather than peeling the pillow off the clock, she rubbed her eyes and scooted over to the window to peel back the curtains. Bracing herself for the shock of bright light, they screeched on old tracks and the heavy blackout liners parted letting in the view of a parking lot and the late-morning sun.

She leaned to check and see if Uncle Seth's car was in its spot, but all she saw was an oil stain on the pavement. Maybe the lobby had leftovers from the continental breakfast they wouldn't mind her borrowing? Some places had cereal tubs open all day. Those were the best. Heck with milk. A big ole bowl of Fruit Loops that she could pop in her mouth one at a time. That was the best. Rune could close her eyes and tell you what colors filled up a plastic spoon just by their taste.

She snagged the card key off the table beneath the window, shoved her feet into some flip flops and fell outside without so much as brushing her hair. It was too short to tell when it went unbrushed anyway. Long hair's nice on a good looking girl, but monsters and those evil sons of bitches could grab a handful of nice long locks and steer her round like a dog on a leash...or so Uncle Seth said. It was best to keep her hair short for safety reasons and stuff. It'd always been that way so Rune didn't care.

Edited by Rune Marx, Sep 20 2013, 06:49 PM.
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