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Imogen Kensley

Full Name : Imogen Kensley
Age : 492 (Looks) 32 (Real)
Weapon of choice: Dueled katana - Color affinity: Plum purple.
Species : Ailward Guard - Dhampir
Face Claim : Caity Lotz

Imogen Kensley was born on October 27th, 1527. It was a cold evening when Imgoen was brought into this world as her mother had sadly passed away due to childbirth complications, leaving her to be raised by her father in York, England. Growing up without a mother was sometimes hard for Imogen when she saw other children her age. Mothers always being there when needed. Oliver, her father, did always manage to try his best with Imogen and for that, in Imgoen’s eyes, he was the best father she could ever have, thus creating a close bond between the two.

From the moment Imgoen turned five years old, her father started to tell her these bedtime stories about the supernatural and how they roamed the earth. Every night was a different story of a different species. It was her favorite thing when she was able to get her father to tell these stories even when it wasn’t bedtime. It was her 10th birthday when her father told Imgoen it was time to pack a bag, leaving his job as a cook, and having saved up enough money to move. Of course she had wondered why, but all her father told her was that they were going on a trip and that she didn’t need to worry because it was going to offer them a better life than where they were now.

Imgoen didn’t mind the travel, in fact it was something she learned to love over time; Being able to see different parts of the country, meeting new people in all the different places they went. Mostly the food stuck out to her like every other child, but it was something different for her. She often wondered what it took to make certain foods. Everytime they stopped for something to eat, she just had to know what was in the recipe and how to make it. It was something of her father she had gained, the love of cooking.

Why not enjoy traveling before they had to settle down? Imogen wanted to try her hand at something new; To see if she had what it took to cook with the real chefs of the countries they visited. Oliver always enjoyed what she cooked, but she often thought he just said that to make her happy. Every new country they went she offered to cook for her father and herself, seeing as every place had something new to offer in terms of spices and ingredients, but it wasn’t to last. All that cooking and traveling suddenly came to a halt when they finally arrived to their destination and their new home.

Kyoto Japan. Everything seemed larger than life as they traveled through the city until they found their way into a quaint village where everyone seemed to know everyone. “Welcome home, Imogen,” her father said with a beaming smile as they finally arrived at their new home which looked like a cottage just small enough for the two to live in.

A few weeks had passed by and Oliver had already taken a job as a chef at one of the local inns. However, Imogen wasn’t connecting as well as her father was with the language barrier and meeting neighbors, so her time was spent inside cooking and trying to come up with new dishes for her father to serve at his job.

Years had passed by. She had learned her way around the barriers of Japan and was finally old enough now to know the truth of who she really was. One day her father had come home from work, telling her they needed to have an important talk. Imogen couldn’t help but wonder what was so important as her father sat her down and started to explain the history of their kind. All those bedtime stories Oliver had told her just so happened to be true; vampires, werewolves. All of it, true. She sat there in shock only to have something else be revealed to her. “You’re a dhampir, sweetie. You have unlocked powers and untapped potential that can be yours with the right help and training.” She was left speechless. Not in a hundred years did she think those bedtime stories were true, let alone have her be one herself. “... How long have you known?” was the first thing that left her lips. “...Did mum know?” granted, she didn’t know her mother, but questions started to arise. “Your mother and I.. before you were born, we both agreed to tell you when you were the right age. It was the reason why we moved here, Imgo.. For a better life, for us.. For you.”

Imogen took weeks to herself, only ever saying goodnight and good morning to her father most days even though he always tried to get her to say more. It was hard to process something like this, knowing that she would have to be ready for a whole new chapter in her life. Oliver was in the kitchen when Imgoen had finally worked her way out of the bedroom. “I’m ready,” were the first real words she had spoken to her father in a month.

Oliver couldn’t have been more happy that she was finally ready to learn more about their species. “We’ll go to the dojo first thing in the morning,” he responded with a nod. The sun started to rise for the next day as they were both up and ready. Imgoen still wasn’t too sure about this, but she wanted to find more about herself and what she could really do.

In the years that had passed since Imgoen stepped into that dojo, she excelled at everything she touched. From her powers to hand on hand combat training, it was almost as if she was a natural and when the day before 18th birthday had finally come, her and her father couldn’t be more excited as they prepared. This would be the most important one of her lifetime in which she finally got to choose her own personal weapon that would become like an extension of herself. However, it wasn’t meant to be.

Imgoen wasn’t prepared for what was about to come the night before the ceremony. A raid flooded the village as houses were destroyed, crops set on fire, and people were being killed as they went screaming into the night. Their house had yet to be touched until a her father could hear the soldiers approaching. Oliver frantically ran over at his daughter. “Imogen! Hide!” There had been rumors across Japan of towns being perished in fire and echoing screams of terror that were caused by the battle between warlords wanting as much land as possible under the new ruler. The door was quickly broken into as she hid in the cellar covered by rug her father threw down. Imgoen could hear things being tossed, glass being broken, and words being mumbled, when suddenly… the piercing sound of a sword sliding right through her father's body. Tears had quickly washed their way down her cheeks as she ran out to her father when the men left their now destroyed home. “Why?” she called out distraught. Her father was bleeding out quicker than she could handle as she tried to wrap his wound. “Dad, please don’t…” cradling his body in her arms, blood pressing against her body.

“Do your ceremony, Imgo.. Be the dhampir I know you can be…”

His words faded out as his body went limp just as the clock struck midnight. It was officially her 18th birthday. A day that should have been held with such excitement and joy was held with such sorrow and pain.

Imogen arrived at the dojo, despite the heartache that seemed to be weighing her down. This was what her father wanted. The day they both were waiting for. The sensei met her outside as she noticed the ground littered with some of the invading soldiers. It did not surprise her that her master had survived. He approached her with a solemn expression and looked to the blood on her clothing, knowing whose it must’ve belonged to. “Imogen, your father would be very proud of you.” She could only nod in response as she stepped into the dojo., carefully taking in each weapon that adorned the walls. She slowly moved along, waiting to feel something pull at her from the inside. It was only when she walked closer to the end of the line did she halt in front of the dual katanas. “This is it.” she said with quiet confidence as both of her hands grabbed onto them. Everything fell right into place.

Once the ceremony was over, Imgoen found herself rushing back to what used to be her home with her father, his body still laying on the floor. “I’m so sorry, father,” she muttered, trying not to shed any tears as she bent down to slide his immortality ring off his finger. “I’ll take good care of this..” Japan wasn’t her home anymore. It couldn’t be, not after what happened.

Imgoen’s travels landed her back in her hometown of York, England where she buried her father right next to her mother. During that time, she never thought she’d get over her father's death. It was something that she didn’t want to cope with, especially after not knowing her mother. However, Imgoen had to find a way to cope and she thought she may have the answer. Having never unpacked her bag from Japan, she then caught the next ship to America to start a new life, paying her way onto the ship with the little bit of money her and her father had saved up over the years to board with the other settlers.

It wasn’t long before Imogen found herself living in Jamestown, Virginia where she found a job at one of the local inns being a cook. However, her life started to take a turn when a woman by the name of Abigail Heartly walked in, wanting a room for a few days. Imgo always found herself staring or asking the manager of the inn information about Abigail, that was until one day Imogen found herself hand delivering an order of food to someone only to bump into the woman she was oh-so curious about. “Oh no.. I’m so sorry.. Let me get you some--,” but all Abigail did was let out the cutest laughter unknowingly. “Oh no, it’s okay. I was just heading back to my room anyway.” The rest was history. From then on the two were inseparable. They saw each other almost every day until Abigail herself decided to make the next move. “The people here, they don’t understand us. They never will… I was wondering, would you maybe like to come to Salem with me?” The offer took Imogen by surprise, but of course she said yes. This was her trying her best to start a new life and she couldn’t think of anyone else to start it with.

It wasn’t long before they arrived to Salem, settling in quite nicely, but it was a town where everyone knew everyone and so news traveled fast that there were two newcomers who had joined the community. They were quickly the talk of the small town. However, it didn’t take long for people to start to whisper, treating them differently. Rumors began to spread how they were not the cousins they were portraying to be, but lovers instead.

It wasn’t soon after that more accusations started to arise and the town began jailing dozens of women for practicing witchcraft. It was a late night in the household for the two as Imogen started dinner only to have what seemed like a horrible flashback as the door came bursting open. “Arrest her!!” a man screamed, directing themselves towards Abigail and slapping shackles on her wrists. “No! You can’t!” Imogen cried, dropping everything at once. One of the men glanced over at Imogen. “You can see her one last time at her trial tomorrow,” he said, slamming the door shut in her face.

The next 24 hours were going to be the longest 24 hours of her life.

Tick tock, tick tock. Abigail’s trial was in an hour and Imgoen couldn’t wait any longer. She was one of the first few people to show up at this trial today as the crowd started to gather. Abigail came out in shackles both on her hands and feet. ‘Burn the witch!’ people shouting which only made Imogen angry. Listing off all the reasons why Abigail could be a witch. No one was listening to reason. Abigail did nothing wrong. The trial lasted about an hour itself only for her to be found guilty.

A few grueling days had passed in the town of Salem with everyone on edge. The hours felt like they were slowly ticking by as it finally led up to the time. Imgoen had to find a way to bring herself together. Taking a deep breath before walking out the door, she watched everyone come from their homes to gather around the pyre. Imogen pushed her way through, pleading with anyone who would listen. “Please… please don’t do this.” Tears streaming down her cheeks. “You.. you can’t do this!” she begged as the men shoved her off, ignoring her cry. It was then when Imogen decided to take this into her own hands. Rushing off, she made her way back to their house, tearing up their bedroom as she was looking for something certain. Those dual katana swords she’d put away and hoped to never have to use again in a place where she called home. She took them out of their hidden spot, wiping the leftover tears away.

The last time she felt like this was when her father died. It was the last time she wanted to feel pain like this. By the time Imgoen had made it outside with her katanas, she was suddenly halted by a brunette haired woman. “Stop, Imogen.. You don’t want to do this.” She shifted her attention to the stranger. “Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?” she replied, pushing passed the woman to run back into the townsquare… but it was too late. Imogen dropped her swords. Abigail was dead. Falling down to her knees, the tears reformed down her cheeks.

Days passed and only one person was ever there for her during this time. The brunette haired woman who held her back; Malva Ailward. “Not that I don’t mind your help.” Imgoen stated, cheeks puffy and red. “But I don’t really even know you, so why are you here?” she questioned as she sat down. Malva started to explain who she was and where she came from and the job the Aspects did. It sounded something for the greater good. It sounded almost too good to be true.

It took a few days for Imgoen to decide, but she pledged her oath to Malva and the rest of the Aspects. There wasn’t a chance she was going to allow something like this to happen again and being a part of their faction seemed like the best way to move on with her life and find comfort in those that shared her views.