Dana Walker

*“No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just come out the other side.*

*Or you don't.”*

~ Stephen King, The Stand

## Dana Walker

Age: 24

Hair: Light blonde

Eyes: Green/Blue

Build: Slim, athletic

Piercings/Tattoos: Just the ears so far.

Scars: A few here and there, very light, and some more recent than others.

Blood Type: O+

## Personality

Likes: Magic, Music (usually hard rock), Dancing, Nature, Humour, Exercise, Fair play, Feminism, Flirtation and entertaining banter, Creativity.

Dislikes: Bullying and other oppressive behaviour, Stalking, Violent crime, Pointless argument, Misogyny, Power trips, Red tape, Condescension.

Addictions: None at this time.

Habits: Paranoid and hyper-vigilant.

On the surface, Dana's bright and energetic presence is a near-tangible thing. She's quick to laugh, to smile, and seems genuinely interested in engaging the people around her no matter who they are or how they look. Given the choice between presenting herself or somebody else in the best possible light, she'll almost always take a step back to give them room to shine. There's a sense of confidence inherent in her easygoing nature; she's been through hell and made it out the other side. With that said, she isn't easily intimidated or manipulated and will not hesitate to defend herself .. or another person in a tough spot. When cornered, she's not inclined to pull literal or metaphorical punches. She has a soft spot for outsiders, having been one herself.

Beneath the surface, well, it's a little different. A lot more complicated. (( Feel free to ask or find out IC. ))

## Powers and Abilities

* **Witchy Toolkit** - Herb Lore, Potions and Alchemy, Poultices, Runes, Basic Wards, Ritual Circles, Reagents and Ritual Objects, Leyline Knowledge.

* **Etheric Sight and Magic Detection** - Ability to glimpse the magical ‘ether,’ the etheric plane where magical energies are visible (leylines can be seen as blue/silver seams of light, for example), and a witches ‘spell world,’ if they have one. The ability to see wards, spells, and enchantments and assess their purpose, provided they are basic level also, or from the same elected school as the reading witch.

* **Conjuration** - Brings simple objects or living critters to the caster, provided they exist in the real world or nearby vicinity. Conjurors can manifest staple mundane objects from the ether such as food or drink (things that are so well known to the caster via a lifetime of repetition that they may be evoked.) A conjuror can duplicate simple objects, provided the witch can see, touch, taste, smell, and hear the original before them in its entirety.
	+ More complex objects and animals can be called through the ether (teleportation) to the inside of a ritual circle, provided the caster possesses something dear to the summonee, and also something from their physical body. Complex living beings; humans, vampires, and other player characters can be called forth (provided they consent), however they will merely feel a strong call/persuasion, rather than be brought unnaturally through space and time, and will attempt to come to you relentlessly via whatever means possible to them without knowing why or who has called them.

**Casting Method** - Spoken Word (ie. "alla peanut butter sandwiches!" or "ragamuffin" or "deadly nightshade").

**Coven Link** - A Silver serpent bracelet from her first coven. Inactive.

## Personal History

Born in the sleepy town of Rowley, Massachusetts, Dana Walker was raised to believe in magic. There was the standard diet of Disney and J.K. Rowling common to most girls her age, of course, but also this pervasive theme of inspiration and willpower that -could- be attributed to progressive feminist ideals.. but wasn't. Not entirely.

No, as a child, Dana was encouraged to try almost anything she set her mind to, provided it did no harm, and while her failures were many (and sometimes spectacular), only a few were from a lack of trying. Always, she was asked -why- she wanted to do the things she did and while a little girl might not think anything of these questions, as a young woman she began to understand how someone's motive for action could be as important as the action itself. If something was important to her she tried much harder and if not .. well, fun was its own reason sometimes. Unimportant, unfun things (outside of chores and schoolwork) could be resolved quickly or not at all.

Growing up amongst a large family in a small town, neither she nor her cousins thought it was strange to celebrate uncommon festivals like Beltane or Lammas, Solstice or Samhain. They didn't think anything of the fact that their colds and childhood illnesses were cured with teas and infusions instead of prescription drugs or that their family doctor was an older aunt working from an office in one of the grand old buildings around the training yard and not some chilly office with hand sanitizer hung by the door. Aunt Alice helped a lot of people in Rowley, just as the informal Book Club her grandmother hosted went out of its way to do more than discuss literature. Dana wouldn't learn how -much- more they did until she was nearly thirteen.

As is the case with life-altering discoveries, Dana Walker came upon her own by sheer accident. It was Book Club night and that meant dinner and homework with Uncle Joe and the cousins, a sort of mid-week holiday that rarely included actual work unless there was some project or deadline looming. With no such impediments that night, a bunch of the Walker kids were running wild in the back until one thing led to another .. and to this day, Dana swears that it was the cat's fault. Godsdamned cats. Even though she hadn't been the one chasing it the old grey beast leapt at her, raking her face with tiny claws and tipping her out of her favourite tree so that she landed on her head instead of her butt like usual. The rest of that night is hard to remember; there was shouting at first, an angry hiss from the beast; crying, a lot of tears she couldn't do anything about. Candlelight and sweet-smelling smoke. Cool hands on her cheeks. Chanting. Singing. Her mom in a really strange dress. Aunt Alice with blood leaking from her nose and ears. A sea of familiar faces smiling down at her. Relief.

The fall should have killed her or, at best, left her paralyzed from the neck down; she'd learned enough in class and from watching Alice work to realize without being told. Magic saved her. Magic was real because .. of course it was. It'd been there all along like soft music in a distant room. Like green grass waiting beneath April snow. She joined the Book Club.

There -was- a lot of reading to do at first, so many strange glyphs and formulae to learn but the heart of it, the principle, she already knew: "An Ye Harm None, Do What Ye Will." Sure, she missed homework with Uncle Joe and the younger cousins but magic, -real- magic was absolutely thrilling. The Book Club tended the town and each other in hundreds of different ways, all of them subtle and all to the good as far as she could tell. Dana worked with family and friends for years like this, balancing school and hobbies with their craft, tending her own budding power as surely as any garden. Testing limits, joining the Coven. Getting ready for college.

She was living in New Haven when it happened, Second Year at Yale. A fire that swept through her family home over Thanksgiving, killing everyone but the few whom work or school had kept away. The official report was open and shut: household accident. Tragic, but it happened, they told her with their grey voices and pitying expressions.. except Dana didn't believe it. Couldn't. Wouldn't. Too many of her people were in the Coven; between them they'd kept an entire town safe and well, what was a house fire compared to that? More than that, her grandmother's books, her aunt's office, they were all picked clean. All the family artifacts were gone. Her -family- was gone. All the little cousins, the kindly aunts and uncles, her -parents- .. dead.

Why not her?

Dana went into hiding after that. School was a wash; she couldn't focus, sometimes couldn't even breathe. The friends she'd made, the boyfriends and peers and lovers, couldn't understand. She didn't want them to understand because .. it would mean she'd have to explain about the fire. She'd have to explain leaving because she was seeing shadows that weren't there and having nightmares morning, noon, and night. Grief, they'd call it, meaning well, and meaning well, they'd make some calls. They'd lock her up. To her mind the only thing worse than living with a gaping hole in the middle of her heart and this sense of dread that never went away.. would be living like that in a place without magic. A place she couldn't escape, tranq'ed out of her mind, while the shadows circled all around and then.. nothing. So she cashed out and left, making it on her own, keeping ahead of the shadows that might or might not be there, tending her power until she felt ready to face .. whatever the fuck was out there, if there was anything at all.