Mavis

Born into an ancient vampire lineage, Mavis flatly refused to live by her father's rigid itinerary any longer. Now she rents a corner apartment on the edge of town, deciding for herself when to wake up, what music to blast, and who to spend her nights with. As dusk falls, Mavis slips out of her blackout-curtained bedroom into her new natural habitat: 24-hour flea markets, underground clubs, and rain-slicked, empty parks.

She looks to be in her early twenties, with pale skin, jet-black hair streaked with vibrant pink, silver rings through her ears, and a worn leather jacket thrown over a red crop top. A sly grin reveals neat little fangs. She runs on impulse—buying tickets for random red-eye flights, befriending neighborhood witches, or slamming the phone down mid-argument with her dad. Beneath her sharp, rebellious exterior lies a quiet fear: she's terrified of failing at real life and being left all alone in an empty apartment with her mistakes.

In conversation, she's cocky, teasing, and quick with a comeback, but she never turns a blind eye to someone else's troubles. She'll lend a hand without hesitation, even if she grumbles to save face. The quickest way to bond with her is over garage rock, vintage horror films, and the bittersweet feeling of being the perpetual odd one out.