Post by Maggie Bruttenholm on Jun 14, 2013 12:13:08 GMT -7
MAGGIE BRUTTENHOLM
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◊ FULL NAME: Magdalena Katherine Bruttenholm
◊ CODENAME: Hellgirl
◊ GENDER: Female
◊ RACE: Half demon
◊ AGE: 22 years
◊ APPEARANCE: A spitting image of her late father, Maggie stands tall at a staggering 6’2 and weighs close to 230 lbs, if not over it. Her weight, however, is deceiving. She has a muscular build with broad shoulders, strong middle, and narrow boyish hips. Her muscles are denser than a normal human’s and her skin has a thicker texture, almost leathery to the touch. She has a blood red skin tone, not nearly as vibrant as her father's, with an undertone of soft pink, softening the color. Like her mother, Maggie has an impish look to her with a strong jaw line ending in a pointed chin, an upturned nose, high cheekbones, and a small mouth with thin lips that curl slightly more up on one side, giving her a permanent smirk. She has a large forehead, made bigger by the small dainty horns that adorn her brow. They started growing when she was two and stopped when she was five, never growing any bigger than a few inches. She’s sanded them down a few times in the past to see what it looked like, but they always grew back too quickly to maintain and in the end, she gave up and let them be. Elf-like ears (don’t be mistaken though there’s no elf in her) mirror her father’s demon lineage. Delicately pointed at the tip, they’re a tad too big for her head. Her ears are pierced, done by her own hands, two in right, and three in her left. She had her nose done for a few years but she finally took it out much to Abe’s relief.
Her eyes are a deep amber, a ring of dark orange almost gold in color line the outer edge of her iris. Her eyebrows are thick, but she doesn’t really care what they look like as long as she doesn’t have a unibrow. Very rarely does she take tweezers to them as she doesn’t believe the pain is worth it. Maggie’s hair is a dull sooty black and was once long and luxurious, kept in a thick braid but after getting it caught in doors, trees, and grabby hands one time too many, she took a knife to it and cut the length into a straggled short length. It has this almost-hacked-at-with-a-bowie-knife look to it and, truth be told, that’s how Maggie maintains it. Some locks are shorter than others, but the longest lengths just brush along her shoulders. She has long bangs, but usually she brushes them back and out of the way. Maggie has a long thick tail that she swears has a mind of its own; it’s constantly moving and, much like a cat, it’s is a visual clue to her emotions. Her hands are large, calloused, rough and blistered with raised veins and tendons along the top to reveal her to be a hard worker. Scars mar her body like a battlefield, ranging from childhood scrapes to gashes from missions gone awry. Too numerous to mention, but the most prominent ones are the three diagonal claw marks across the back of her thighs, a fourth runs straight across her bottom. Another is a weird indent the size of a dime on the right side of her hip as if her flesh was gouged away and five little pucker looking scars running down the back of her right arm. Her left arm has what looks like scaring in a swirl pattern that runs down the length of it from shoulder to wrist. Much like Hellboy, she was born with this.
◊ ATTIRE: Maggie often looks like she rolled out of bed, reached into her closet with her eyes closed and put on the closest thing. To avoid looking like a preschooler dressed her, Abe has made sure her clothes will always match no matter what she wears. This has resulted in a lot of browns, blacks, and tans, but Maggie isn’t all that bothered by it. Tank tops, short sleeved shirts, and shorts make up the majority of her attire. Though her clothing is made to fit, she is known to alter them as she likes to wear layers but hates the bulk of it. The majority of her clothes are fire retardant. Occasionally she wears pants, but finds them annoying and in the way. She’s a fan of scarves and has a good sized collection of them ranging in colors. One won’t find a dress in her closet and, if so, obviously it belongs to Rio and he needed to stash his pretty princess attire somewhere. On missions and assignments, Maggie adds a Bureau belt and weapons along with a regulation duster jacket and vest. She dons shin and wrist guards along with padded fingerless gloves that protect her knuckles from a lot of blunt force trauma and she prefers big honking black boots to anything else. Maggie wears her mother’s black cross necklace, never taking it off even for missions.
◊ FACE CLAIM: Milla Jovovich
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◊ AFFILIATION: BPRD
◊ PROFESSION: Field Agent
◊ PERSONALITY: Maggie is an intimidating figure; loud and harsh, she is quick to throw insults and fists, taking after her father with frightening accuracy. Her looks don’t help either. She’s been labeled a bully in the past by tormenting new agents just to watch them squirm but insults, benevolent and harsh, are her form of affection. Her brother and childhood friend Rio are a testament to that. She puts up a front to keep a lot of people out and nothing scares away newbies like an angry demon. Don’t be mistaken, Maggie does have a wicked temper on her and all the mandatory training and anger management classes from Human Resources has done little to rein it in. The rumor is she’s made three people from HR quit in the last six months alone. It was actually five.
Maggie takes to being a Bureau agent like a fish to water and, when one grows up around it since birth, the glam of it wears off fast. It’s become mundane and though she is a hard worker, the hardest you’ll ever meet, she is known to complain just as hard. There hasn’t been an assignment yet she hasn't grumbled and whined about, but for the guff she spouts the demon will begrudgingly buckle down and get the job done. Perhaps not as efficiently as her teammates would like, but the woman is not a quitter and will get it done come hell or high water. She is extremely impatient to the point of bulldozing into a situation without thinking it through. She leaves the heavy thinking to others while she smashes skulls, and dealing with Maggie is like dealing with a kid. She immature and reckless, chock full of witty comebacks and one liners and occasionally a danger to her teammates. Growing up with Trevor and Riordan did little to curb her rebellious hellion streak; she’s just gotten a little better at hiding it from the authority. Not too big on that either and when one’s used to doing things their way, it’s hard to break from it. Maggie will vaguely listen to a higher up and agree quickly before doing the complete opposite.
Though Maggie seems like an indestructible force with no real way of stopping her short of elephant tranquilizers, one look from her uncle Abe will send her wilting and deflate her ego. If you’ve never seen a six foot tall demon sulk, it’s not a pretty sight. Though she doesn’t do authority, she is however respectful of her elders and those that helped raise her and Trevor. It’s a very fine line that is sometimes crossed, but she holds these people in high regards. Abe can calm her angry soul with the gentlest of touches and Trevor keeps her mostly in line due to their closeness. Raised up along side Rio since they were youngsters, they have been dubbed "The Three Amigos" and are hardly ever seen apart, and if someone should ever talk ill of them, better be prepared to be punched in the face. Only Maggie is allowed to give them hell, and she is extremely possessive over her brother and friend and, as reckless as she is with herself, she is the reverse with them. Maggie will take the difficult spot on an assignment even if she’s not qualified if it requires her bros to be in harm's way. She doesn’t know how to be motherly, but rather the big sister who’ll listen, punch you in the arm, and tell you to keep going.
One can’t be on the job 24/7 even though technically she is, Maggie keeps herself entertained by collecting pre Ragnarok vinyl music records. After finding a stash of them on base in her young teens, she became obsessed with Janice Joplin, Joan Jett and Tom Waits and is known to harass the BBN crew every now and then to riffle through their music. She enjoys a good drink of homemade alcohol she keeps hidden in the lower sections of the BPRD base with pilfered parts she may or may not have taken from the tech department. A resourceful individual, she works best under stress and would be an even better agent if she didn’t use it for the wrong reasons. Only a few people can call her Magdalena and get away with it, and she’ll still death glare the perpetrator, save all for one. One John T. Myers. The demon has it bad for the older agent and she’ll deny it until her dying breath and if you bring it up, apparently you want a broken nose. She admires his strength and attitude and he’s not bad on the eyes either. It’s painfully awkward to watch her around him.
Deep down beneath the snappy remarks and death threats, Maggie has a beautiful soul and is more human than she lets on. She is always there to lend a helping hand and never, ever pick on the little guy, there’s always a bigger red woman standing behind him to back him up. Extremely cocky and overly sure of herself, it is extremely hard for her to face her faults. No one likes to have them pointed out and she has a fragile ego about certain elements of her life, usually dealing with her background and on assignments. She translates this as a personal attack to her character and aptitude of being an agent. It’s still a bit of a struggle for her to admit when she’s wrong, becoming stupidly stubborn about it. But for all her faults, she’s still a good person. She’ll never let on when things hurt her, such as comparing her to her father, feeling like she’ll never live up to his name. Equally, if someone decides to call her attractive in any manner, she’ll go deer in headlights mode before punching you. Violence solves a lot of her problems. Telling her to take a break or to stop is equally annoying and will usually start an unneeded argument. She has to be strong and ever ready to keep her family and friends safe and as much as she complains about being bugged by people, she doesn’t like to be alone. She doesn’t talk about the nightmares she's had since she was a kid, and it’s only taken until recently to share them with her brother, finding both comfort and growing apprehension in that he’s had them as well.
◊ ABILITIES: Maggie is blessed with demonic strength and durability and though she is tall and built like a brick house, it is still startling to see her use it in full. Though Maggie works out, it is not actively needed to maintain her strength and peak physical condition. She is able to run faster, jump higher and work longer than a normal person who specifically trains for this, putting her high above the normal spectrum and giving her the advantage. She is able to heft upward of a ton, though this is rather subjective as it is a combined strength of everything. Without knowing the woman, it’s surprising to see her swing her fist with enough force to shudder at, capable of smashing through brick and mortar. The velocity and distance of how far she can throw something solely depends on how heavy the object is. To date, she’s been able to rip a car door from its hinges and kick a manhole cover with enough force to go through a brick wall from 10 meters away. It’s nothing to pick a full-grown man off the ground and swing them over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes or even toss said man across the room. Her legs are indeed the strongest part of her body and being kicked with her full force behind is, like being kicked by a horse.
Her strength lends her a sense of durability, allowing her to take a harder punch than most. She has been known to shrug off blows that would normally take down a troll. She has also been able to fall off a third story building rooftop and land in a dumpster with nothing more than a few cuts and bruises. Though Maggie isn’t very graceful, she still has the agility of a clumsy cat. She calls it dumb luck, but she has great reflexes which has aided her on numerous incidents where death was imminent. She can turn on a dime, changing directions instantly, and her tail aids her balance. Not necessarily a coordinated gal, but she’s fast on her feet having a longer stride and she can easily keep up a grueling pace for hours at a time. Her demon blood and being the child of a pyrokinetic lends her the ability of being fireproof. No matter the temperature or range, fire cannot burn her inside and out; this includes being electrocuted. Another aspect of her father's is her fast-paced healing. Normal injuries heal relatively fast, but can take anywhere from hours to weeks depending on how grave the wound is. Her healing ability does not extend to regenerating lost limbs and still relies on modern medicine to keep her well as she is still susceptible to the common colds and various bugs as a normal person is.
◊ SKILLS: Being the daughter of a demon prince has its advantages and, much like Hellboy, she has the innate ability to comprehend ancient spells and incantations as well as casting them. She excels on conjuring up the dead with the right relic. Languages not so much, but she speaks fluent Elvish, Aramaic and Latin and is decent at Troll and Spanish. Maggie is a brawler fighter, preferring hand to hand combat and the use of short range physical weapons, but nothing beats her fists. She excels in unarmed combat, dabbling in a little boxing and Krav Maga to mesh them into her fighting style. Which is pretty much bum rushing an opponent and wailing on them till they give in. Despite her love of beating things to a pulp, she does having a soft spot for her firearm of choice and enjoys coming up with different types of shells and casings. Occasionally she harasses Tabby to help her forge new ones.
◊ WEAKNESSES: Maggie’s biggest problem is her temper and the lack of control. She’s easily irritated and though she uses the gym and assignments as an outlet for her anger, it still bubbles over and she lashes out at those closest around her. Don’t mistake her for a brutish lug head though, her anger doesn’t consume her but it’s a good part of her. Maggie has an appetite that rivaled her father’s with the ability to consume mass amounts of food in a day that a person would generally eat in a week. She has a hyperactive metabolism and though her meal schedule has been worked down to a science to alleviate problems, she still often eats whenever she can and a hungry Maggie is an unhappy Maggie, and no one really wants that. A terrible shot, she never had the patience to steady her hand when shooting and takes the "blast away at everything until it stops moving" approach. Though she’s not too keen on kids, don’t look at one wrong or you’ll have a grumpy demon to deal with. If there’s anyone Maggie can be close with, it’s Trevor and Riordan. Trevor, her brother, her twin, the other half of her soul and Riordan, her best friend, pseudo brother in the best possible way, and partner in crime. She’s extremely protective of them and should any harm befall them, heaven help those that caused it. Her enhanced strength gives her a false sense of security, often forgetting she is flesh and blood. Her durability stops at blunt force, blades and firearms will have the same detrimental effect as anyone else.
◊ EQUIPMENT: Though she isn’t much a marksman, Maggie keeps an old sawed off shotgun strapped to her back. Named Betsy, no one is allowed to touch her. She sports two twin kukri blades with a leather wrapped handle and keeps them strapped to her thighs. She’s rather proud of these, as she won them in a poker game a few years back. Her Bureau belt holds a lot of trinkets, charms, and reliquaries and it is ever rotating with random junk food to loose bullets.
◊ RESIDENCE: Maggie lives on base with her own room. Once a storage facility, it’s been emptied out to give her ample space to live. Built like an open loft design, her room is massive but sectioned off into different areas by furniture and dividers. She has a bedroom area with a large king size bed in the far right with a large trunk pushed up against the base. Old pictures, maps and drawings cover the walls above it, overlapping in some areas; she never takes anything down. Beneath her bed is a hidden storage for food and weapons. Mostly junk food she harbors from the Foster Clan. Nearby she has a walk in closet and a connecting bathroom. The bathroom was once used for multiple people, hence the three sinks lining the far wall with a large mirror across it. The extra toilets have been removed and a large claw-foot tub was put in. The opposite side houses a large shower. Her living room area is a mix of actual living room and work space. An old floral patterned couch is shoved against the wall with one end broken down, a coffee table littered with paper work, various dishes and cups scattered about. Maggie has about five television sets, though only two work, the other three are in various states of repair. She has a large work bench/table area with a couple of steel chairs. File boxes are piled high with more paperwork and various junk scattered atop the table; she can’t really remember what the table looked like clean. The walls are cement and were never painted, keeping their dreary grey color but Maggie has covered up the space pretty well with various pictures, photos and random artwork.
◊ FAMILY: Hellboy (Father, deceased), Liz Sherman (Mother, deceased), Trevor Broom (Grandfather, deceased), Trevor Bruttenholm (Brother, living), Abe Sapien (Uncle, living).
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◊ HISTORY: The wail of a baby, high pitched and angry and full of life, the second just as strong and loud. Liz sighed with relief and felt herself relax, her children had been safely born. She named Trevor after his grandfather; Magdalena was more difficult, Liz not wanting to give the baby her mother’s name nor any of her aunts. That life of hers was behind her, and her children and husband were her future. Names were kicked back and forth for months, but nothing seemed to fit and they decided that when she was born, they would know what to call her. Liz’s life signs dropped suddenly and the babies were rushed off allowing the meager skeleton medical crew, consisting solely of Dr. Foster and Tabby Whitman to take over but as valiant as their efforts were, Liz didn’t make it. The spark of life was dulled, another causality of senselessness.
Magdalena Katherine Bruttenholm was born one minute and thirty seven seconds before her brother, her skin, tail and baby horn bumps setting her apart from him. From birth, she seemed to take charge; crying the loudest to be fed, kicking her brother when they slept, and having quite the grip even as a infant. Abraham raised the twins during the reconstruction of the Bureau, and with no experience with children, he was the proverbial fish out of water. Fortuitously, he had a great group of friends to surround himself with with more knowledge and skill than him. Tabby Whitman and Dr. Foster stepped forward and were affectionately known as the Nanny Brigade. Maggie proved to a handful all on her own. Stronger than she looked, she was able to sit up by the age of three months, crawl by six and climb furniture before the age of one. She spent a lot of her youth underfoot the Fosters and Abraham and was lulled to sleep with candy and fairy tales in Aramaic. Abe did his best.
The terrible twos were a nightmare and a period everyone would like to forget. It was also the time Maggie’s horns were coming in and, like new baby teeth, it was not a fun time for her. When she wasn’t in the midst of a tantrum, she was in a destructive mode and often dragging her brother with her. Separate cribs were tried during their youth, but both would cry the moment they were separated and when they outgrew their shared crib, beds were brought it. But time and time again, they were often found together in one bed or the other by morning. Though there were other children their age, Maggie unconsciously isolated herself from them, finding solace in her twin. She became aware early of the differences between them and Abe knew one day they would start asking questions. He only wished they were older when three old Maggie asked why they didn’t have a mom and dad.
Abe set the twins down and brought out the sparse photos that had been salvaged from the Trenton base. It was difficult for both; Maggie not really understanding why their parents went away but relishing in the fact she looked so much like her father. It was the first time she had a sense of belonging. Abe, as uncomplicated as he could, explained that their parents were great people with big hearts who loved them so very much. He knew they were too young to understand and would tell them more as they got older, but for now knowing they had parents who loved them was enough for the twins. It was unfortunately that night that Maggie had her first nightmare of a frightening creature with large wings made of eyes and a skeleton face but, as fast as she awoke, the dream faded and by morning it was completely forgotten.
Maggie’s not sure when Riordan showed up in their lives; her first memory of him often changes, but he instantly became a brother when he returned the next day after an afternoon of her shenanigans. As a wild child, there were a lot of shenanigans and bruises and cuts and scrapes. It became the norm to see at least one part of the red skinned girl totting bandages. Self proclaimed leader of her brother and friend, she was often the head of some of the BPRD’s notorious pranks and, to corral her prankster side, she was introduced into the Broom Institute. Schooling brought a sense of structured discipline into their lives and Maggie hated it. Ditching school was hard when your uncle was the Director of the BPRD, but she managed all the same.
Their seventh year marked a milestone in her life, proving how dangerous it was to simply be the child of Hellboy. The twins were kidnapped by the Cult of Anug un Rama, or at least they called themselves that. Struggling survivors of the cult, it was a makeshift group at best but they had hopes of resurrecting Hellboy’s work in the twins. It had begun as a simple morning, playing during recess in the neighboring forest of the Bureau. Maggie was taunting her brother and friend by going further into the woods than they were allowed. Out of the blue, a dozen robed men and women surrounded her and before anyone could help, the twins were gone. Abraham led a team alongside John Myers to retrieve them and by nightfall they had tracked the group to an old abandoned town. The group was dispatched quickly and the team spread out to find the children. It was Myers who found the twins first, Maggie’s cries alerting him to their presence. He found them in a basement of a condemned building. They were kept in different rooms; shackled to a wall, Maggie’s hands bruised and bloodied from punching the wall that separated her from Trevor. It was this first interaction with Myers, a knight in tactical gear who sparked a youthful crush.
Overcoming the nightmarish affair, Maggie dove headfirst into the Broom Institute, wanting nothing more than to become an agent like her father and yes, a little bit like Myers. Still, she rarely had the patience for book learning; sitting cooped up in a classroom all day made her restless. She enjoyed the more action side of the Institute, which was solely a gym class at the time, but it gave her an outlet. She often worked along side some of the older students as she was more in their weight and strength level. Her coach was afraid Maggie would hurt the other children. She started working out in the training facility in her young teens, following it with weapons training, but found she preferred to hit things with her fists. She had the massive strength to do damage, but to alleviate future broken and bloodied knuckles, a call to Tabby was made to help devise protective gloves that were suited for her.
Maggie’s sizable strength increased drastically over the years and her teen years; awkward enough as they were, was made worse by the fact she broke things so easily. The moody teenage years brought on the usual drama, something Abe was completely unprepared for, but even he noticed the changes in his niece. Her usual frustrations seemed out of control and on her own, she developed a mean streak that went above the usual prankster she was. When asked about it, Maggie would shut out everyone and stomp off alone. A few times she’d vanish for a day only to be found in bed the next morning, dirty and fully dressed. Though Abe wanted to press the matters, it was suggested he give her space and wait for her to come to him. When she finally did, Maggie had a lot of questions about her parents. When you’re the daughter of the man who both saved and demolished the earth, people tended to talk. Despite the peace the Bureau was bringing to both human and preternatural, people still looked at her and whispered behind her back.
With the twins just turning fourteen, Abe decided they were ready to talk about their parents. He talked about Liz’s youth and family, about Hellboy being found and raised by their grandfather, about Grigori Rasputin, Nuada, Nuala and the Ogdru Jahad. The sacrifice of their father and the force of their mother to bring them into the world. He talked about all the good they did and that no matter how the world looked at them, they always did the right thing. When he was done, silence hung in the air and Maggie quietly got up and left. The next day she found Abe, gathered him into a crushing hug and thanked him for telling her. In that moment she let him take a glimpse of past months and where she would disappear. Sometimes she was with Trevor and Rio too, but often alone she’d visit her parents' graves. She’d talk occasionally, sit quietly, sometimes she’d yell at the headstones; she took a swing at her father’s once but missed on purpose. How was she supposed to miss people she only knew through sparse stories she’d overhear? Abe held out his hand with the promise of any time she wanted to see what her parents were like, he would do his best to show her.
After that, things were much better. She was still a temperamental teenager who could punch a hole in a wall, but she was much happier about it. From there, Maggie really took off in her schooling, finding a new focus, and buckled down hard on her studies. She had a new purpose and felt becoming an agent was her true calling. It was the life she lived and was accustomed to, it only felt right to follow. She graduated the Institute at eighteen and was taken under Myers' wing to become a full fledged field agent. She goaded and/or helped Rio join a year later and, though the twins finished before him, Maggie often hung out to help and/or harass. Though they were out in the field a full year before Rio graduated, group assignments were sparse as having a random stranger on the team did not work for Maggie. She made team missions a living hell for the poor soul working with them until Rio was cleared for active duty. The three amigos reunited and they were ready to face whatever the world dished out.
