Alex 'Jabberjaw' Walker

Pulling at my Insides
One does not simply slap a label on a Nosferatu; The clan itself is notorious for it's variety, and Jabber is no exception. While she follows most of the typical clan standards of being secretive and sinking her grimy claws into everyone's bit of business, she possesses multiple quirks; some inherited from her Sire. She's got a bit of a superiority complex-- She is, after all, the spawn of a "hero" of the trials. She's intelligent, street-savvy, intuitive, and rather creative with her methods. Even better (or worse), she thinks she can do this better than most everyone else! This, of course, gets her into a lot of trouble. Her many smart quips and back-sass earned her the endearing nickname 'Jabberjaw', during one of the multiple beatings her sire put her through in an effort to teach her how to mind her tongue (and because there was no way she was going to let her childe run around calling herself 'The Real Slim Shady' after making a not so vague allusion to her weight). She's learned to better watch who she lips off to, but that doesn't particularly keep her from spouting off remarks.

With this superiority complex, however, comes a rather short fuse. She cannot stand to be usurped or outdone in any fashion, and takes them as personal sleights. The retaliation that follows can vary from snarky social commentaries to hunting down and stealing or killing any connections you might find yourself attached to-- it depends on just how badly you've offended her. Such offenses may be forgiven with a semi-public apology, surprisingly enough, but she'd not ever make you privy to that knowledge. She'd honestly much rather know you're suffering adequately. Helping her with these personal deeds will get you in good, considering she trusts you enough to bring you in on her misadventures to begin with, but the rewards are endless if you're willing to partake in a bit of risk.

Scratching at my Outsides
Not surprisingly, as a Nos, Jabber is far from anything resembling human. She's sickly, almost painfully, thin, and incredibly tall-- measuring 7' 2" when she allows herself to stand her full height, but her typical 'slouched' stance reduces her to a meer 6' 1". Her skin is a greyish green, with areas on her cheeks, throat, shoulders, and thighs that seem to marble out to a lighter, more appealing shade of green. She sports an assortment of bedrock horns protruding from her skull and between her shoulders; where her neck curves oddly. Her face is angular and sharp, with a short 'mane' trailing down from the back of her head to just above her shoulder line. What seems to add most to her height are her digitigrade legs, her feet able to be used in some prehensile fashions that might disturb others-- such as reaching out and easily grabbing objects off their person for inspection, or scratching at the back of her head for the sake of disturbing others. Most of the time, though, she prefers to keep to her hands-- sporting long, terribly curved and inky claws. She uses these to scale walls and reach high vantage points, and often uses them when hunting to ensure her quarry can't escape. Given her almost disgustingly flexible nature, though, she hardly finds any trouble grappling anyone.

The Beast's Roots
Jabber doesn't speak much of her past, as she never really had a pleasant one. Between an unsupportive druggie mother and a dead-beat father, she was a rather spiteful and unpleasant kine to be around. From the time she was young, she wanted nothing more than to get away from it all and start over on her own where nobody could tell her what to do with herself-- She was constantly running away from home, but would always end up being carted back to her mother who ultimately(surprise!) didn't care, and the cycle would repeat itself. Eventually, at the ripe age of 16, she was able to get herself out of state-- travelling down four states to end up in Florida. It was... harder, starting new in another state at such an age, but she managed. A few jobs where she was payed under the table and a month in a women's shelter were enough to give her a decent pace with which to start, and from there she took off like a rocket-- in some of the wrong directions at first, to get herself a new identity situated so nobody who bothered to look would find her, but eventually straightened herself out. Her birth name is something she loathes to mention, and has tried to put it out of her mind; but eternity will give her plenty of time to forget.

Having scrounged her way to the top, she naturally took to looking down upon her peers-- seeing them as insignificant when compared to a fighter and 'do'er like herself. This didn't earn her many friends, and she didn't particularly care, so long as she was still on top. As she grew older, she came to loathe and resent her fellow students-- blaming them and their stupidity for 'holding her back' from her full potential, and ultimately dropping from school all together with a GED. Looking for something to challenge her and give her excitement in her otherwise dull life, she eventually took to a paramedic's course being offered out of the county fire station-- immediately becoming enthralled with the concept of facing new and diverse situations on a near-daily basis, and the rush of adrenaline that came with essentially being the determining factor of life and death for most everyone she would come in contact with. It was a career that suited her well, and found her surrounded by people not quite as heinously idiotic as the public school students. She still didn't make very many friends, but then again, that wasn't why she worked.

With the nuclear bomb in jacksonville, though, most if not all relief efforts were sent to focus on St. Augustine-- and so, she went. The town itself was... decent. Too crowded for her liking, even without all of the refugee's, but she managed to work around the stifling conditions and did good work, when she wasn't busy beating away druggies trying to steal her supplies right off the truck or re-stitching people back up that couldn't keep themselves from trying to take something from the wrong person for more than five minutes. Everything was in shambles those first few months, but as the city put itself back together and Macnamara took office, things started calming down. As that happened, and the relief efforts were actually having an effect, everyone started trickling back home... except for her. She stayed and continued to help for a bit, unsure of any exact reason. Maybe she was waiting for the rush of the situation to fully die down, or maybe she was waiting for something else... but the exact reason is an unknown. With the arrival of the tropical storms though, she fund herself buying a ticket back home and packing her things-- passing the time at Tradewinds with a few drinks, and talking to a man about how the world had done nothing for her. Oh, how she could have never predicted how that guy would change her life.

Eternal Damnation
That man in the bar had been employed to find someone exactly like her-- someone who knew the world would do nothing for them, and held no hope of it changing any time soon. Her initial awakening had found her chained to a wall, with a strange woman in a damp and disgustingly stuffy room. Jabber had been told of the process taken to acclimate her for her transition into the Kindred world, but the details are fuzzy to her otherwise. Three days of feeding her nothing but her sire's blood by the cup-full, giving her body time to purge itself of most everything her new kindred form would not take kindly before eventually embracing her. The process itself was... she assumes painful, as she recollects most of the time was spent blacked-out on the floor, but despite the residual aches and pain, Eska insisted on starting her training immediately. There was another with them; a man, he also kept to the wall for a short time. She insisted he wasn't a childe of hers like jabber was, but she didn't say more about him. He left one night, and never came back.

Her sire did, though-- in a strange state, as if she'd seen a ghost. She'd done her best to explain an important smack-down had just taken place, and that the man she'd chained to the wall was the very first of their kind. Powerful enough to have brought her and Dante back from final death, and turned back the sands of time-- to a point where an entire city that had been leveled by a nuke stood again, as good as it had once been. Jabber, of course, was skeptical-- but as the weeks went on and other strange occurences happened while eska did her best to continue lessons and tell her the full scope of the story that had unfolded, the skepticism melted away. Having nobody to fall back on in this life of undeath, she did her sire's work during the months that passed-- meeting contacts and watching targets and making drops, while still continuing her lessons on her new-found powers. One of which landed her in a very... prickly situation.

Attending the ceremony where Archon Theo Bell was to be promoted to Justicar, there were words exchanged with her and another one of the guests-- things got a bit heated, and she found herself rather offended. Not to be outdone, Jabber concluded the only thing to be done was to set off the fire alarm. Everyone was a soaking mess by the time they evacuated, including her intended target, and though it took a while, she was eventually found out. Of course, though, accidents happen-- right? No actual hard feelings were had, and while they continued the ceremony the next night, Jabber herself was not invited to the second venue. A good fucking laugh he got from her sire, and definitely worth the Brujah fame. So far, anyway. Recently, with the new gather migrating down from atlanta to take up residence on the self-proclaimed sacred ground of the kindred world, she's found herself thrust into the position of Seneschal-- earning the approval of her sire before falling into her strange slumber with Dante... but unfortunately finding herself surrounded by a bunch of idiots, once again.