Angel still has family around Haven, but her attempts to visit in person have culminated in dead ends on overgrown roads and circles informed by spotty GPS and an even spottier memory. Having lived out West, primarily along the Central Californian coast and in L.A. for the past decade, and before that in Haven, it is possible that your character may have some connection to her. If you're interested in making a that connection a reality, please send an OOC note.
Were you an old friend?
Did you know her family?
Do you remember what happened thirteen years ago?
Putting the normal in paranormal, the supernatural is something Angel has only seen on the silver screen or experienced through a fairly standard caliber of novels. Bizarrely, this makes her a minority in the category of Havenites who not only grew up in and around Haven, but attended Blackfield Academy while they did. Her innocence of the arcane doesn't seem to stop her from betraying cryptic advice that she claims everyone from rural Haven 'just knows'.
Never insult the Host. They hold your life in their hands.
Never wander on the Full Moon. What roams beneath is hungry.
When the Fog rolls in, it drags trouble behind it.
Ignore the whispering shadows. Your life could depend on it.
Although Angel is spearheading Innerspace's introduction to the East Coast and remains its lead designer, her partner, Portia Monroe, has taken most of the day to day responsibility of managing the successful business following the collapse of the designer's health and the persistence of her chronic illness. Solace and the slow lane aren't the only things Angel has come to Haven seeking; her hometown may yet yield both the cause and the cure for what ails her.
Of Field and Forest
Growing up on a farm teaches you that animals of all stripes make for friend, foe, and food. While her usual inclination toward those in need is extending a helping hand, a bowl of chow, and a comfortable bed to pile on, sometimes her go-to comes from behind the barrel of the sporting rifle bequeathed to her on the passing of Grandpa Wicke. After all, the only things Haven breeds more of than the monsters in its woods are high levels of paranoia.