The image above is a mere approximation of Abigail’s appearance.
A short and bony waif of a girl with a crop of lanky, thin blonde hair and noticeably large ears. Abigail has pasty skin which is almost always covered in grime, scars, bruises and a couple of spots, an upturned nose and a smattering of freckles (or incredibly stubborn specks of dirt) under her bulbous, watery eyes. Despite her age, she carries herself with the twitchy restlessness of an energetic child. Despite her experience, her gaze brightens with the insatiable curiosity of a shut-in.

Abigail does as much as she can to bulk herself up against the frigid chill of the fogs in Briar Hill, often wearing multiple layers, oversized jackets and dark coloured beanies. She wears fairly neutral and dark colours to try and retain her inconspicuousness at the expense of the dull hues bringing out her sickly pallor. The wardrobe is meagre, well-worn and clearly second hand. She only owns two pairs of shoes - a pair of tattered running trainers and oversized hiking boots.

Curse of Servitude

» Obedient: From dawn to sundown, Abigail must follow every direct command she is given - be it vocal or written. All commands and their effects are immediately nullified at night. The only mode of resistance is finding loopholes in the phrasing of the order. The only exception to the rule are orders to physically harm herself or others, and orders to stop following orders.
» Dropout: For obvious reasons, Abigail left school quite early on. She does not have the necessary qualifications for any high-income jobs and instead works for her keep. On the bright side, her work ethic is phenomenal, as one would expect with almost two decades of practice. She is methodical and efficient in most of the chores she unwillingly undertakes.
» Crafty: With little else to do aside from her shift jobs, and no real friends to talk to, Abigail has taken up a whole host of creative hobbies to keep herself occupied - she knits, sews, and bakes on a regular basis. An inquisitive sprite at heart, Abigail is quick to pick up new skills and enjoys learning new things.

» At Your Service: Being manipulated (intentionally or otherwise) by a great deal of the people you meet brings about an intense disgust and wariness towards other people. Abigail’s fears of being forced into another chore by a stranger has developed into a somewhat standoffish nature that only makes it all the harder for her to fit in.
» Through Rain or Snow: Some of Abigail’s commands, though not directly dangerous to her wellbeing, have dealt blows to her immune system - primarily through exposure. To this day, she is quick to fall ill and slow to recover. Though she combats this with a rigourous exercise routine and healthy eating, the damage has already been done...

Abigail is simply looking for a way to offset the effects of the curse - even if it requires constant reapplication every day. Aside from the blindingly obvious, Abigail is also looking for a way to become fully independent, even with her curse.

This is the girl your mamma warned you about! A young temptress adorned with a modest crown of raven hair, styled and kept short to her liking. She stands taller than the average girl her age at just under six foot with a proportionally sized body. Her face delicately made up, always paying special attention to the contours of her eyes as if to elicit something more primal inside of her.

When she walks on stage she commands a presence, the lights always seem to shine on her just right, showing off exactly what she wants others to see. Opting to wear anything that will get a look but never willing to show her skin, making sure to stay far away from dresses, shorts, and skirts. Beneath her rock star fashion facade is nothing but torment. The signs of her anguish take the form of several hundred self inflicted wounds, scars to remind her that he's always there.

Violent Specter

» Incessant Chatter: Almost all children have had an imaginary friend in their life but they tend to grow up and realize that it's just a silly game. Cassidy however was not so lucky. As she got older the voice simply became stronger and more prevalent. Chiding and coaxing her to start fires, get into fights, and eventually cut herself. The echo in her young mind had finally revealed itself to be a prolific yet unidentified serial killer. He refuses to give his name but constantly begs her for blood. She often comes off as rather odd or manic when others catch her talking to the spirit that is seemingly linked with her.
» Tortured Artist: She chooses to use the violence and hate inside her to write powerful music with her renowned rock band. Her lyrics never fail to speak to the disenfranchised youths of world, making her a somewhat competent orator as well. While the carnage inside of her is immense, she never lost her creative edge. She doesn't travel far without her notebook, never knowing when the urge to write a song will sneak up on her. Often caught whistling or humming to calm herself down when the voice becomes overbearing.
» Fame: Cassidy isn't very modest when it comes to her stardom. Prone to lash out or offend others when she doesn't get her way. She's lost touch with a large portion of her old life simply because of the money and lifestyle that comes with being a famous singer. She's an avid drinker and partier, often choosing the most expensive items to aid her debauchery.

» Bloodletting: Cassidy can only quell the tired screams of the spirit by opening her own flesh. When all is said and done the specter is satisfied enough with the act and briefly leaves her be. While it seems to keep his ministrations satisfied she fears for the day when her own blood is not enough.
» Letting him in:When she isn't mentally paying attention she often finds herself giving control to her passenger. It's usually extremely brief but in those delicate moments she is completely gone, giving the killer the freedom to do as he pleases, even if it's just for a moment. The act feels almost like a blackout for her, waking up groggy and confused about what just occurred. While she isn't fully aware of her surroundings she knows what and who is causing it.

Ridding herself of the dark passenger and all the demonic urges he harbors is her ultimate goal. To live a life without the voice of that abhorrent man talking about the pleasures of murder and desecration every day. Her wish is to somehow exorcise the lingering soul or even destroy him.

Brooks is a tall, stocky, hairy man with the physique of someone who gained muscle without trying to show off, or perhaps from a lifetime of labour. He has long, greying hair that he combs back into a loose ponytail with bushy eyebrows and steady green eyes. His beard is more grey than anything else, though it shows flecks of ginger and red from time to time. His nose is ever-so-slightly crooked and the lines on his face appear to be from decades of frowning. His hands are calloused but their movements are delicate. His nails are kept short for his job - he wears no wedding ring and there are no indications that he had ever worn one in the past. He has no piercings and no tattoos, but he does have a few scars on his left shoulder, abdomen and knuckles.
In terms of attire, Brooks wears whatever he has to for the autoshop - most of the time he is in a set of oil-stained blue overalls and some rugged working books. The outfit is made up with thick leather gloves; a quirk that seems to persist in all of his outfits is the set of thin gloves, owing it to a combination genetic skin condition and years working with chemicals at the shop that now leaves the skin on his hands flaky and prone to blister. To help cover himself up, Brooks favours jackets and thick jumpers even in the middle of summer.

The Eldritch Pestilence

» All-consuming Power: Brooks’ right arm has been overrun with some sort of lovecraftian beast. The flesh has turned a deep violet - the hairs stiff and coarse, the nails black and ridged. Some teeth grow out from misshapen angles with no lips to cover them - open sores litter his muscles with craters. From the elbow downwards thick, glistening tendrils run the length of his arm. Though this gives his appendage strength beyond human limitations, and the ability to fling a dark mass of viscous, quivering, burning energy at will, the being is parasitic and the repercussions are severe.
» Maybe You’ve Heard Of Me: Brooks has spent most of his life in Brier Hill. He worked his way through from attendant at the gas station to inherit the local autoshop from its previous owner. He has his usual haunts. People know his name as an unremarkable, albeit very guarded fellow. He has some close acquaintances, particularly in the diners and the Inn he goes to for drinks.
» Survivalist: With his own vegetable garden, greenhouse, and a reportedly hand-made cabin just on the outskirts of the thick pine woods surrounding Brier Hill, it comes as no surprise that the rumours of Brooks being one of those survivor-nuts tend to come up in most conversations about him. In reality, he has just spent a very long time preparing himself for the worst - a day where he is so disfigured that he can no longer show his face in public. As such, he knows how to hunt and live off the land.

» Excessive Treatment: As stated before, Brooks’ curse has more repercussions than benefits. The arm is in a state of constant infection, which requires almost daily care to maintain and slow the spread of corruption. It hurts to move it - even more so to keep all the slithering parts of it contained under a set of bandages. It requires frequent discharge of the fetid magics it produces, usually in a method not too dissimilar to bloodletting - allowing those ‘spells’ he can fire to drip and bubble into various biohazard barrels in his basement.
» Fever fatigue: Even under all the precautions and care Brooks takes, an overexertion of his strength or his body tends to lead into coughing fits of dark, bloody phlegm. His human body was not made to work symbiotically with an ancient parasite. Worse still, this puts all doctor’s visits off the menu - even though he has some form of healthcare for his job, Brooks cannot risk going to a doctor for anything physical.

Brooks had long ago resigned himself to his fate. He does not know how long it will take for this parasitic infection to spread and consume the entirety of his body, but he spends his remaining time working tirelessly towards the worst - a life of isolation...or a quick, clean death on his own terms.