It was the school of hard knocks for Maxine Piper from the start. Her mother was a struggling actress, landing only forgettable bit parts in bad movies and commercials, and her father — well, take your pick from the long list of married men that Amber Piper had affairs with in her late teens. Amber lived beyond her means, spending most of her meager earnings on drugs, alcohol, and expensive clothing, which meant every few months — or even weeks — the mother and daughter were scrambling to find another place to call home.
Amber saw her chance for for vicarious success in her daughter's raw talent, and became the stereotypical nagging stage mom, hoping that her daughter would be the star she couldn't. Max refused to play along, deliberately failing her auditions; seeing her mother turned bitter from too many failures, she wanted nothing to do with it. Money was tight, with most of it spent on alcohol and drugs for Amber and her string of boyfriends, yet the mother accused Max of being selfish for not trying harder. There was no money for the things Max did care about — like art supplies or a college fund. Her mother's abuse was usually verbal and only sometimes physical, but the final blow came when one of Amber's boyfriends propositioned the 15-year-old. When Max's mother walked in to find her daughter in the grips of the man, she blamed Max for what she saw, and Max walked out.
The teen knew she wouldn't make it on the streets and turned herself in to child services. She lived in a small group home while working part time until she turned 18; she then went to CSU Northridge on a full scholarship as an art major. For the first time in her life, Max was happy, doing what she wanted without a guilt trip from her mother. The Breach, though frightening, didn't change that. It seemed like a distant threat — on the college campus, there were no vampires or werewolves. Sure, she would see them now and then in the rest of the city, but they didn't seem like they intended to do anyone any real harm. They were refugees to be pitied, Max felt, and would eventually find their place in society with the rest.
College gave way to a job. Max found work as a graphics designer for a small marketing firm. It wasn't the most creative or luxurious of careers, but it paid steadily, and for a kid who had to move on average five times a year due to evictions, that was more than enough. She had friends and she dated, though no one in particular. Life was fine, even with people claiming the apocalypse was nigh.
Everything changed one night when a daring Soul-Eater decided to make her its prey. As Max walked to her apartment from a parking spot around the corner, the Soul-Eater, disguised as a man, suddenly stepped out of the shadows, grasping her by the wrists. He didn't seem to do anything but hold her in place, but she couldn't break free. As they stood, bound in place, Max could feel what she could only describe as her spirit slipping out of herself, as if everything important was starting to fall out of her like water in a sieve. There was nothing she could do; she couldn't scream or move. She was paralyzed.
It was then that the one Sidhe she'd seen now and then appeared, grabbing her around the waist, murmuring for her not to be afraid, that she was strong enough to withstand the attack. The world was a blur around them, or maybe it was they who were moving while seeming to be stuck in place. Max was transformed into a thousand things, each more horrifying than the last, as the Soul-Eater tried to scare her protector away. Finally the Soul-Eater had used up its energy and let go, disappearing into the shadows once more.
Only then did the people come out of the woodwork to help. The Sidhe touched Max's heart, the green glow of the Seelie taking a hold of and illuminating Max as one of them. She then left Max to her neighbors' care, slipping away again. Max has seen her once or twice since, tried to thank her, but the Sidhe has no intention of getting to know her creation, it seems.
The practical side of Max's nature seems to have been the major casualty that night. Graphic design no longer made her happy, and the demands of a 9 to 5 job in the business world were impossible for her to keep. Not when she had the ability to look into the souls of strangers or control plant life and the world was hers to explore. Within a month of being a "newshie," she was fired.
Since then, rather than waste her life away inside a dreary office building, Max chooses to do any number of odd jobs. She's been known to walk dogs, sell ice cream, wash windows, paint portraits, wait tables, drive a cab, burgle a house — you never know when she'll turn up. She always seems to have the proper credentials, as she's always taking new classes and adding to her resume.
Mercurial. While she has the proverbial new lease on life, Max has had plenty of bad in her life that she can swing from high to low with little warning. The world, as dark as it can be, is full of wonders, and she plans to enjoy them all — sometimes to her own detriment. She has little patience for those who feel sorry for themselves and is likely to snap at anyone who does so in her presence. Things, in her opinion, can always be worse.
Some may pity her for the odd jobs she seems to take, but she simply can't stand to be tied down to a desk job and wouldn't have it any other way — even if it means she can barely afford her tiny studio apartment.
She has a bit of an addictive personality, though has managed not to succumb to the life of a drug addict or alcoholic; her ability to Soul Gaze often serves as her addiction of choice — in a city of so many, there is always someone new to meet. This means she's fallen under more than one strange vampire's thrall. The temptation to look into their eyes (and thus their soul) is far stronger than her desire for safety.
