WARNING, Wall of text, LOL. If anyone sees something that doesn't look right, please let me know.
Name: Maricza (Maria) Zupan
Date of birth: April 18, 1793 (Bitten at age 26 so she retains that appearance.)
Place of birth: A gypsy camp somewhere on the roving borders of Croatia.
Known Relatives: Grandmother Katuska Dorovnic, Parents Jenka and Boris Zupan - All Deceased.
Height: Not short, but not terribly tall - 5'8" or so.
Weight: Numbers...how droll. Not quite Rubenesque - Healthy curves in the right places.
Hair: Ruddy Chestnut that gently curls of it's own accord.
Eyes: A strange blend of hazel that makes her eyes appear anywhere from black to golden depending on the light.
Powers: The superhuman speed and strength of a vampire backed up by a passionate desire to prevent anyone else from living her own fate. Over her long life she has studied many martial arts, but her favorite is the Sambo she picked up from a 40 year stint in Russia. As a gypsy decendant, she also has her share of unexplained intuition when she is able to focus. By the same token, though she has her hunger though under control, it sometimes becomes acute enough to negatively impact that focus. She also has posession of a sacred Cigani artifact that allows her to not die in the sunlight. This is not to say that sun does not cause her any pain however. As long as she keeps shades on and her skin covered, she can manage if necessary.
Personality: She outwardly appears as a very driven young woman coming to terms with a crippling illness. That is to say, she tells those around her that her skin condition makes sun exposure dificult and therefore can only take night shifts. The story is coraborated by several close calls in which she began to blister when exposed to sunlight. Her attention to detail and what others refer to as her 'anal-retentive obsessive-compulsive tendencies' are actually ways in which she keeps her hunger, at least for human blood at bay. She is relentless in her quest to redeem herself for an undiscussed sin in the past.
History: Stay a while and listen - Even without covering all 220 years of her history, this could take a bit...
No one quite remembers where the Cigani (Coloquially known as Gypsies) were camped the day Maricza was born. Suffice it to say, she was born on a cold spring morning in the balkans near what is now Croatia. Her father was the de-facto leader of their caravan and did well to keep his people safe and happy. As she grew up though, with increasing frequency gypsies were being shooed away from 'civilized society.' There was much struggle for her caravan as she grew up, but despite sometimes hanging on to survival by only a thread, she knew nothing but love from her family and the people of her caravan.
One fateful autumn night in 1819, Maricza and her best friend Janko (who was likely to become her husband come next summer) had just returned to camp to report a magnificent offer that was made by one of the few villages near Zagreb that didn't immediately run them out. The offer itself was like a dream come true for the travel weary caravan. They were to be given liquor and supplies for the harsh winter that was to come in exchainge for their aid. The Mayor explained that a recent bout of illness had killed off many of his villagers, and so they now had more crops and beasts than they would be able to harvest alone. What he wished for in return was that the Cigani lend men for the harvest, and women to lift their spirits. They would even be invited to partake in the harvest festival once the work was done. It had been a hard year, and it felt so wonderful to finally have good fortune that Maricza ignored the Cigani intuition that told her this might be too good to be true.
Maricza's triumphant return to camp was met with cheers as everyone took in the good news. It was likely that the others intuition was outweighed by hope just as hers. A single voice tried to break through and convince them to listen to their feelings. Grandmother Dorovnic, known for having gone senile in her old age seemed almost lucid. She warned against taking the deal before Maricza's parents led the muttering old woman back to her bed and the celebration went on as if nothing had happened.
They joined with the villagers until the harvest was complete. The men of her caravan worked the fields, and the women served them meals, and sometimes company at the end of the day. Maricza found it soothing for once to belong to something less transient, but the night of the festival, things took a turn. Marica and Janko were invited to the Mayor's home to be granted a special reward for their diplomatic influence. Upon entering the dark house, the trap was sprung. The mayor appeared blade in hand. Before they could react, the pair was bound and gagged and laid out before him. She can still hear his words as he claimed ownership over her to his associates. "A beautiful creature doesn't belong in a cage, but I think I'll keep her anyway. Save the other one for later. My little bird will be hungry when she wakes."
The Vampire stole her humanity that night, and how hungry she was when she awoke. To this day, she remembers every moment of her ensuing soulless rampage. How Janko screamed and begged her to remember who she was when she fed on him. How she helped the mayor to bury their victims with stakes already through their hearts so they would not have so much 'competition for food' as he called it. She remembered laughing as she slaughtered and devoured her friends and loved ones like cattle. She gleefully accepted her master's command to strike down her own mother and father. Some shred of humanity remaining made her save her grandmother for last. Somewhere deep down in her subconscious, maybe she knew that if anyone could make this killing stop, it would be wise Grandma Dorovnic.
She arrived at her Grandmother's bedside to discover her performing an ancient gypsy ritual with sigils drawn in her own blood. Weakly chanting, waiting for her granddaughter. The incense smelled of garlic and sage and weakened Maricza. The words of the ritual though softly spoken pounded in her ears like thunder and the circle of runes beneath her feet kept her frozen. When the mayor appeared, seeing his chosen bride so entrapped sent him into a rage and he plunged his blade into the old woman's chest, astonished to see a tear and a look of horror on Maricza's face. With a final gurgle, her grandmother threw a gem into the magic circle. It caught fire and melted into Maricza's skin. Waves of horror and anguish and guilt and regret strong enough to cripple swept over her as she felt her soul return. Her grandmother's final words to her were an apology for the great pain she would now face with her soul intact.
Everyone she loved was dead. She wasted no time in channeling her rage towards the mayor and took swift vengeance. Every vampire in the village was dust by dawn and she returned to the ruins of her caravan to mourn. Soon after crossed paths with a young girl who immediately tried to kill her. She would have felt the slayer's stake that night had the girl not been so confused that this vampire did not try to kill her in return. That slayer's hesitation allowed Maricza to escape. She faded into obscurity for years, ever a nomad at heart now and then resurfacing throughout Europe as a little more than a silly legend. Something to perturb other vampires - Their views of her existence were almost comical - Slayers? Proven fact. The vampire who kills her kin? Inconceivable.
Now and then she has crossed paths with slayers and watchers, knowing better than to catch their attention. She's watched them come and go, some meeting more gruesome ends than others, but the line has always continued, sometimes with her secret aid. Still she remains on the periphery since most slayers are less than willing to trust her and more inclined to just end her existence, no questions asked.
Flash forward to a few years ago when she paid a visit/beating to a group of vampires she'd been tracking in Hungary. She came upon a young man defending himself and was able to kill enough of the vampires to give him a fighting chance. She stayed out of sight but admitted she was relieved when he escaped. Having sucessfully acted behind the scenes to save his life, she moved on, thinking little more of it. Not long after, a coven of witches aided her in tracking a new threat to America and told her of the active hellmouth beneath Fairview. After assuming a new identity as a bounty hunter liason of Fairview's Sherriff's department, imagine her surprise to find the man she saved in town as well - Little did she know he was now a watcher, and that despite being on his side her life would soon be threatened by his slayer.