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Played by a verified adult
New Versailles |
Height: 5'9'' Body: Click Species: Human Sub: Werewolf (Born) Gender: Cis Female Orientation: Closeted Pinterest: Here |
Status: Dating Family: Maximilien Willopah-Baptiste (Son) >Rosemarie Willopah-Baptiste (Daughter) > Michel Baptiste (Half Brother) Accent: Twangy southern drawl Languages: English, Cajun French. Piercings: Nipples, Bellybutton, Nostril, HCH Vehicles: '14 Ram 1500 `69 Charger R/T 440 Music: Click |
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B I R T H R I G H T
Part 1 ________________ Born during a time of great prosper to an Alpha and his mate, Kenzi was from birth a part of the Southwest pack in Rochet. It worked out well, since her Father's mechanic shop was there. Not much traveling to do. The only child, Kenzi never had a chance to be lonely. Scores of cousins and packmates kept her busy. Not many other little girls for her to play with, but it was the least of her worries. Everything was peaches and cream, hunting lessons, pack unity, they were living in a wonderful time. But then came the problem that still plagues a great deal of the American South, that problem was the advent and mass reach of Methamphetamines. Clueless to her fathers side businesses, she was happy as a clam coming into her adolescence, rising to the rank as the one who would some day be the sure leader of the pack. [/size]
S H U N N E D
Part 2 ________________ Her grandad was an alpha once, and her pop followed in his steps. It was becoming more and more a possibility that yes, another Baptiste would head up the pack. The other things that were becoming more clear at this time were that her father's drinking had become an embarrassment to the pack as a whole. Pack unity in the region was declining, and no peace efforts were being made by the Southwest. They were all very much tied up in her father's drugs, or angered by his drinking. What could have been a shining future for Mack ended up in flames. She woke up one night to foot steps in her trailer, and when she traipsed through the dark to find the source, it was the last thing she wanted to face. The elders, telling her she'd have to do something about her father and fast if she'd wanted to be alpha. Revealing the secrets she didn't know. It was a tough decision. Not only is it defiance of her Alpha, it's her father. Small, trembling seventeen year old hands loaded up the shotgun, and that blue tipped Ariat kicked a hole in the trailer's bedroom door and unlocked it. But seeing him sleep there, Kenzi buckled and went with her gut. She didn't do it. She instead bent herself on helping her dad get better. They were both ejected from the pack, pariahs, shunned and disgraced...
R U I N
Part 3 ________________ Of course they were allowed to stay in the community, in Rochet's trailer park. Their garage is a staple around here. The only problem is that a new face moved into place quickly as Alpha, forcing a No Tolerance law on the pack, he both cut them off from the surrounding packs, and from their vices. Without direction or supply from Mackenzie's father, many went to jail, prison, or much worse. Old timers defected, joined new packs because the new Alpha was much too intolerant, abrasive, extreme, rigid. There was no more family. The elders were beginning now to regret their decision thanks to the way things had changed. Quite eventually, Mackenzie was granted trial immunity and welcome to join the pack as an Omega temporary. She declined, having a strong distaste for the Alpha and his practices. She hunted alone. Sometimes, with her father. But thanks to her shunning, there aren't many other wolves she could or would hunt with. The back-roads were now where she prowledon four legs, and the Crossroads is where she went on two. It was a lonely existence, but she knew it is for the better this way. A simple existence lived free of obligation...well it sucked. She's a pack animal, and it killed her to be so alone. Though she'd never admit it. She was still doing work to repair what her father has broken. Healing those with addictions, writing prison letters, sending bits of money to commissary, feeding kids with no mom home to cook (because their mom is probably on drugs.) Kenzie didn't have to do these things, and she won't talk about it even now that it's a million miles away. It's just part of who she is, and the good old days of southwest... |