Maggie wouldn't exactly consider herself evil. What she hunted was evil. No, she was nowhere near that... in her eyes, at least. By the vision of anyone else, however, she'd be considered a murderer. Around six years ago, she had started hunting. Maggie simply wound up with some strange characters at a bar fairly similar to the one she was in now. That wasn't saying much, as they were all the same. These people, she found out, hunted the unimagineable. So she stuck around with them for a while, dedicating her fury toward the execution of these creatures.

Eventually, Grace started moving from place to place, no longer having a home, and would simply tag along with hunters, learning as she went. This caused problems, as she didn't always have a hunt to be on, but she didn't have the skill to research and locate hunts on her own. Maggie then turned her free time to what most would refer to as 'murder'. It was the same as what other hunters did in her sight. Killing people might seem to be sinking awful low, but really, taking it into consideration it was the same. And she hadn't killed too many, no, only a few. But it was enough.

Magrace only took care of the real scum bags. The lowest of the low. The ones that looked just like the creatures so many hunted, if you squinted. This was a more difficult type of hunt. It was harder to be discreet about the genocide of free criminals. Of course she felt a deep guilt about the murder of humans, but it wasn't enough to stop her. Each one she took to mind as a practice for once she met back up with her family. One less criminal roaming the streets, one more chance for her to prepare herself. It was a win-win situation.

Standing up from her spot at the bar, Maggie intended to find herself a man for the moment. Discovering one that look promising she got his attention from across the room, walking backward so she could keep her eyes on him. Maggie had only had a few drinks, honestly, she couldn't have been that affected, but she still managed to trip over the chair leg of someone sitting near her. "Dammit!" Grace muttered, catching herself by her hands as she tumbled back. The glass cascaded from her grip, shattering on the floor and drenching the already sticky floor with the remnants of her drink.