NAME: Gillian Corbana
D.O.B.: December 1, 1995
In a Relationship with: Ramon Dewitt
Theme Song: On Top - The Killers (Hot Fuss). Feel Good Inc. - Gorillaz.
'"Saints are sinners who kept on going."'~ Robert Louis Stevenson
Gillian is your typical american teenager. She's bright and bubbly, granduated early from High School, took mostly AP classes and is intellegent. Gil was on the cheer leading team, played volley ball on the beach and went to bon fire parties held by the frat boys at the local college.
All threw out her life the only people she'd ever really known was her Mother and her Grandfather. Her Father became a in and out source in her life. So, in order to protect her, Daniel stepped in and took up the responsability. Her Mother didn't like this idea, and started to withdraw from Gillian.
Soon after her Father finally just left, without a word. Gillian was crushed but it didn't faulter her stride. At such a young age she started to become a bit more aggressive. Worried she'd take it out on other students he enrolled her into karate, which she started to excell quickly in. Her studies soon saw that she had an A+ average and by her Sophmore year she was graduated with her Senior class with a major in Mathematics and Politcal Science.
When she graduated, her Grandfather petitioned her to get emancepated from her Mother, which was more then an easy process as her Mother gave up free will of her daugher long ago. Gillian had dimissed her parentel gaurdian and went with Daniel instead to travel across the country. They went from Boston, Mass their home town all the way to Arizona. They met various sorts of people, from seedy assholes in the depths of alleys to nice upper crust ladies and their fancy dresses. She knew they were wrong. All of them. Right down to the little girl with the blank stare and big brown eyes.
"Gillian." Daniel had said. "I want you to listen to me very carefully. That feeling.. The skin crawling along your bones. The rapid pace of your heart. This is how you'll know." Daniel, was getting sick as they travelled having pushed his early seventies now. "Know what?" She had asked, but Gillian wasn't stupid. She knew what she was, what she had to do. The stories stuck with her. Always a hero. Always a heroin. An activated slayer.
Then, one night in a small, run down cabin in upstate Washington, Daniel died. Gillian was exactly eighteen years old. One week before Christmas, she picked up a paper with an add for a financial temp at a place called Tivian Towers, SunnyDale California. Something tugged on her then, and without question she packed her bags. Hopping on a bus, she left Daniel's body in a burning cabin, with the rest of her past behind her.