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ivytorn-blog1 · 5 years

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LANA CONDOR, CIS-WOMAN, SHE/HER, HUNTER / deep in the pacific northwest lives IVY MAI LE. i heard they’ve been living there for four years and last saw them hanging around the rough draft, i think they might’ve been pouring drinks while listening in on conversations. at twenty two years old, ivy doesn’t look a day over twenty two. everyone around here always associates them with leather bound books, hidden in the back of the shelf; scars beneath delicate flowers and patterns in ink-covered skin; and the final sharp inhale before one tells a deadly secret. hope they enjoy their stay ! ( cami, gmt, she/her, 19 )

TW: DEATH, BLOOD, SCARS, SELF-HARM (or sorts)

a family of refugees, the le had a long established reputation back home as the brave protectors of mankind, nomads stopping at every village and small town to valiantly step into the darkness and return with a token of the evil ailing the populace. with very little collaboration with other hunting families, they kept extensive tracks of lore, written and verbal, passed down through generations - thus, the accounts they now possess are a mix of superstition, old wisdom and rare experiences. it is well known that if a hunter is looking for out-of-the-box ways to defeat a target, the le’s knowledge might be of use.

ivy is part of the first generation of her family to be born in the united states, their new hunting ground since the 1960s. for the most part, they’d stuck together, leaving only to marry into other families or to join prestigious groups. their status had carried over to their new country, and their skills only consolidated the fact that the le were a family one would wish to keep as close friends within the hunting community.

born on the 17th of december, 1976, in modesto, california - but soon the moving began. the le carried a philosophy of self-protection and search for better targets, one that involved moving at least once a year, hopefully with no tracks behind to be followed. staying for a few months, every family member who was able to work did, gathering funds for the next expeditions and better gear. to reach a le, one had to actively search for them.

this led to ivy having no formal education. under the official guise of homeschooling, she, her siblings and cousins learned the basics of mundane education: writing, reading, easy maths. everything else was done in a militaristic setting and specialized in the trade they’d pick up as soon as they were deemed ready. survival skills, botany, lore, interrogation, fighting, shooting. nurturing friendships outside of he family was a hard task, but ivy was up for it anyway (mostly during the final weeks of being in the same location, when the house felt too small and her cousins too annoying,and she sported a bleeding nose from fighting her siblings). the instinct to look to the outside world was always there, even if just as relief from the suffocation of her family. however, she’d eventually be on the move, and never allowed to send letters or telephone anyone afterwards.

ivy was the classical middle child. with two older brothers and two younger siblings, she was often found trying to sneak into the back of the trucks leaving for hunting missions, because if miles, only 6 years older, could accompany the grown ups, so should she. in other occasions, she played the role of the instructor, throwing knives with the youngest, assuming herself the leader of the family, the great wise one - of course, until there was blood and crying and she was grounded. other times, though, she was hidden behind doors, listening to conversations she wished to take part in, but never close enough to be allowed to. a constant feeling of being on the edge of proving her greatness, but never seen enough for that. one such occasion came at the time to flee to oregon.

her family has been focusing on werewolves for the past 15 years, ever since a particularly bad encounter left a few relatives dead ingruesome ways. they will hunt everything else, even if that means they must join forces with other groups for better results, but werewolves have become quite the specialization. eight years ago, down in southern california, the family began a war they did not intend to wage by angering a particularly big pack with what was considered brutal unjust killings. the le found themselves as the targets, in a mess most other hunters refused to touch out of their own preservation - instead, they help set up routes for the le to leave, far away from the pack. pride got in the way, but all that bravado wouldn’t make winning any easier - only when the eldest son, miles, only twenty years old, was violently murdered did the family pack up.

II.

miles was a promising hunter, nearly as skilled with a gun as his father - but then it was all gone. the family had to regroup, grieve and, above all, reestablish their image.

up until then, ivy had already begun going on missions (simply watching when she was ten, helping at twelve, full member of the team by fourteen) but it all changed after miles’ death. the narrative wasn’t that their children weren’t well protected, but rather that they were unprepared. when they handed her six year old cousin a knife and rope, she understood. the new goal was to make them not impressive soldiers but the best, as soon as possible. there was no space for slip-ups.

ivy’s mother has a reputation especially for interrogations. in order to grow their lore books or purely to get information on other targets, her mother came in with a bag full of flasks and tools - and young ivy had always shown interest for that. not exactly the violence of torture, although she quickly grew desensitized to it. the stories that came out of their targets’ mouths, however, were fascinating, small windows into the world of the supernatural. so she stayed, listened, asked questions sometimes, and slowly began performing the incentives as well. they tell her she has a future in that, a great interrogator. the thought makes her stomach restless: imagine all the knowledge she can amass. imagine all the things she’ll be able to ask when it’s just her interrogating, no one else in the room to supervise her work, much less her words, her excitement over the tales of her victims.

despite that, the le are not within the most ruthless of hunting families. they believe in a strict moral code of balancing plates - all supernatural creatures are inherently evil (if they are not, it simply means they are fighting their natural urges to be so, and thus their goodness is an unstable state) and so, hunters like them are meant to kill off threats to the neutrality of the world by getting rid of some evil. they won’t kill someone purely because they are a supernatural., but will mistrust them, and likely keep track of them for a few days to make sure they can’t find any current (or past) transgressions. however, taking those lives should bring consequences to the hunters themselves - this, of course, ignoring the fucked up mentality/indoctrination this leaves them in, and things like ptsd, but they certainly don’t care about it. in order to keep that delicate balance, for every life a le takes, they mark their own skin with a dash, letting it bleed, hurt, and at last scar. they are both used as a sign of pride, members showing off their deformed skin with glee, and as a moral tally, keeping hunters from going on mass killings that are not justified.

things have, however, grown much more brutal since miles’ death. the incentive to grow that tally is stronger than ever, and the justifications for missions are simpler and simpler.

III.

in oregon, they moved even more, until four years ago. arcane falls was alluring for its established community of supernaturals AND hunters, a dangerous game of cat and mouse right under their nose. ivy still lives with the rest of the family in a big house down a dead lane, the only other house in view being a decaying old one (that, of course, the entire family had already explored for safety and the hopes of finding something wicked in there). everyone took up little jobs, and ivy continues to expand her resume in bartending, now pouring drinks at the rough draft, where she keeps her ears open (even if a lot of the information she gathers turns into missions for her elders or teaching experiences for the younger ones)

arcane falls is a bit of a dream for ivy. she’s so close to all these different beings, even serving some in the bar. a chatty bartender type, some of what she hears is not intel for missions, but rather knowledge for her own gain. here she’s been able to keep her eyes open for a hidden pleasure of hers: magic.

books inside carved books, ivy has been keeping lots of information on the supernatural - nothing that’s of use in tracking them down and killing them, but rather in understanding them, their powers and skills, the beauty of the terrifying dark they inhabit. magic, especially, is a secret vice. she’s just purely in love with the concept of breaking the laws of everything that is real and truly loses all the cynicism in her when she sees it. but it’s a terrible sin no one shall know.

she still hasn’t achieved the greatness she knows she’s capable of. in fact, ivy knows she hasn’t even had a chance to prove that she’s half as good as she claims to be. she hasn’t brought home any major token, hasn’t conducted any great interrogations, everything feels like she’s just holding her breath right now, so close to everything but not there yet.

not having gotten her chance also leaves her on a particularly bellicose edge. it sees she’s a powderkeg always about to explode, and the smallest of thigns set off that anger she’s been building up for years - ready to anger, ready to start a fight, ready to self-destruct when outwardly destruction is not possible.

she’s begun covering up her scars with tattoos, much to the dismay of her family. she claims it’s to not cause a scene at work once others see her arms and connect it to the le reputation; after all, her shoulders and upper arms are getting pretty crowded. delicate flowers and weeds are intertwined with the scars, collapsing into geometrical patterns closer to her neck, and she plans on getting more. much more.

ivy is also a casual hunter?? sports hunting. forest survivalism. she enjoys pushing herself and self-training. the rush of being a predator, even if the moral consequences are harder to grasp.

this young lady loves playing with knives way too much. keeps a pocket hunting one with her at all times, of course, but truly enjoys swinging it around for fun, throwing, pretending to chop some fingers off just to giggle at the reactions around her. most things she does are in search of a certain rush like this.

character parallels: erik killmonger, kate bishop, stefan salvatore, rosa diaz, bobbi morse, derek hale,sabrina spellman, tish walker, penny adiyodi, jace wayland, billy kaplan, raven reyes, julia wicker, annabeth chase,meera reed, sam winchester, isaac lahey, idk more help

PINTEREST to come soon oops

hmu for plots and such pls !!

#❛ iv . | this is how it goes : everybody’s got a bone to pick ; headcanons .#inferisintro

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