Post by Hayden Outlawe on Aug 29, 2013 21:59:11 GMT -5
The darkness of the room was suffocating, the already near-empty apartment seeming completely barren in the consuming shadows. The only source of light, the only possible way to see, was the small circles of light cast by the four small black candles strategically placed in the room. Each one corresponding to ancient symbols... Each one placed at the exact point of one of the cardinal directions... Each one placed in order to create his circle, a circle of power, a circle of energy, a circle of sacrifice. This ritual required him to go places he had once said he would never go again. What had happened to him? What had changed him so much?
It had not been that long ago that Hayden had sworn to stop turning to magic, that he would seek to redeem himself after all the evil he had done. He had turned against his family's path, against a tradition that had gone all the way back to Celtic Ireland. He had done exactly what his ancestor had done so many centuries before him... He had made the same mistake. Had Hayden received the proper trainings, followed the proper path, dedicated his powers to good... To maintaining the balance, where would he be? Would he be a druid, as so many in his family had followed and become before him? Would he be an emissary, a guide to a pack of werewolves out there somewhere? Or perhaps in a coven, helping others to learn as he had, to one day find a pack of wolves or other shifters and help them to maintain the balance of power within themselves?
What about now? What was he? What was he becoming? What had he done? Meeting Deucalion hadn't been an accident, he knew that. The alpha, a literal Alpha of alphas, had sought him out. Perhaps he had sensed the darkness within Hayden, a darkness Hayden felt within Deucalion himself. Similar, but at such a higher magnitude that Hayden couldn't even truly sense what Deucalion's plans where. A power flowed from that wolf, one that hid him, one that blinded others to him.. Blinded others, and Hayden figured, had somehow led to the blinding of the alpha itself. So why, knowing that Deucalion was so dark, knowing deep down that what he wanted from him was so evil, had he agreed? There was more to this than a mutual hatred for hunters. Yet, Hayden had a agreed, made a deal with the Demon Wolf.
Sighing, Hayden tried to push those thoughts out of his mind. He was doing the right thing. The Argents were widely known for extremism. And all those stories led back to the same man, to Gerard Argent. But this.. What Hayden was planning... It made him feel darker than he had ever felt before. And as he closed his eyes, sent a silent prayer to the ancient gods of his ancestors, focused on the throbbing wavelengths of energy flowing through his apartment, drew in the power of the telluric currents, one word seemed to flow into his mind. A word he barely knew, one that he only had heard once. A word his mother had mentioned to him, a scary story really. The name of the dark ones, the druids who had turned to evil, who had fallen from the Path of Balance...
Darach...
Ignoring it, trying to hide his fear, Hayden knelt before the altar, looking down at the wooden bowl filled with herbs. Lying on top was a small oak branch, the leaves still green, the acorns still present. He had collected it mere minutes before, wanting it fresh. It's power still there. The oak tree was sacred to magic, sacred to witches and druids and the gods they had once followed. And the oak trees of Beacon Hills were even stronger... A strange energy buried within them. Pulled up from their roots... Remnants of an ancient power that had apparently once flowed through this town. A power that had most likely denoted the name beacon which the town had adopted.
Smiling at the branch, Hayden held his hands out over it. He needed its power. He needed power in general. Hunting the worlds most sadistic hunter was going to be a feat in and of itself. The man was well hidden, his location unknown to almost everyone. And without Chey to ask, as if he could, Hayden knew only the Telluric Currents could lead him to his prize. But to take Gerard down, he would need a lot more power. Power that not even the mighty oak could give him. He would need dark and ancient power. Power that must be taken from others...
Hold his wrist out over the bowl, Hayden closed his eyes, sliding the small black ring dagger from his boot out with his other hand and holding it in the air. "Nemeton, rabhchan arsa, doras do na deithe, iasacht dom do neart. Tog an íobairt ..."
With that, he pulled the blade against the skin of his wrist, cutting deep. The blood flowed freely, dripping into the bowl as he continued the incantation. As if a gust of wind had passed through the room, the candle flames began to whip about, a clap of thunder ringing out from the near cloudless sky outside. A dark, almost sadistic, smile spread across Hayden's lips as it did. Opening his eyes, that smile grew wider. As the energy of the telluric currents followed through him, a bright almost white energy seemed to shine across his eyes, vanishing into his pupils. Pupils which dilated outwards, farther than any human's should...
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~ 2 HOURS LATER ~
The cool October air felt good as it blew against him, the layers of clothing making him a little warm even on a cool night. His classic black biker boots, black jeans, a dark gray t-shirt, black hoodie, and black leather jacket... He was invisible in the darkness of the forest. The clouds above them had blocked out the moon and stars... The forest had faded into an eerie maze of dark outlines. But Hayden wasn't afraid... Nor was he blinded by the darkness. Standing in the path of the telluric currents, flowing beneath the earth on which his feet where firmly planet, their energy gave Hayden sight. Gave him the power to see everything within their winding barriers, and he saw not far from him exactly what he was seeking. No, not what, who he was seeking. Her fear and confusion as she tried to make it home had called out to him, some part of him receiving that call as if a beacon had been sent out. But she was just the bait. He didn't need her, nor did he honestly care what happened to her. No, it wasn't her he was seeking. She had just led it to him. Led the hunter right to him...
With all that was happening in Beacon Hills, all the strange events and increasing amounts of supernatural beings showing up there, it was only a matter of time before other hunters had arrived as well. And not all of them followed the so-called code. No, many of them instead followed another code: if it isn't human, destroy it. That was fine, Hayden was fine with that. Their code was to destroy the supernaturals and all those connected to him. Fine, his code was to destroy them.
Jerking his head around to the sound of a branch breaking, Hayden waited. She was running, fast. She was young, scared. Her pursuer wasn't far behind her... His weapon drawn. Any second he would take her down. He doubted the hunter even realized the age of his prey, or cared. But as the clouds passed by, the light of the moon shining down on them, he looked up at the girl as she came to a halt a little over a dozen feet from him. He could only guess what she thought, being pursued by a hunter in the forest only to come upon a dark mysterious figure, obscured by the dark, his face hidden under his hood.
Listening closely to her panting breath, Hayden smiled as the hunter came in behind her. The dim glow of the white light from his pupils visible even under the hood, Hayden raised his right arm, hand outstretch as if to shove her. But she wasn't his target. She was simply in his way.
"MOVE!" He yelled out to her, drawing in the power from beneath his feet as he saw the hunter raise his gun, the sound of him cocking the hammer like an explosion in his ears. It was now or never...
It had not been that long ago that Hayden had sworn to stop turning to magic, that he would seek to redeem himself after all the evil he had done. He had turned against his family's path, against a tradition that had gone all the way back to Celtic Ireland. He had done exactly what his ancestor had done so many centuries before him... He had made the same mistake. Had Hayden received the proper trainings, followed the proper path, dedicated his powers to good... To maintaining the balance, where would he be? Would he be a druid, as so many in his family had followed and become before him? Would he be an emissary, a guide to a pack of werewolves out there somewhere? Or perhaps in a coven, helping others to learn as he had, to one day find a pack of wolves or other shifters and help them to maintain the balance of power within themselves?
What about now? What was he? What was he becoming? What had he done? Meeting Deucalion hadn't been an accident, he knew that. The alpha, a literal Alpha of alphas, had sought him out. Perhaps he had sensed the darkness within Hayden, a darkness Hayden felt within Deucalion himself. Similar, but at such a higher magnitude that Hayden couldn't even truly sense what Deucalion's plans where. A power flowed from that wolf, one that hid him, one that blinded others to him.. Blinded others, and Hayden figured, had somehow led to the blinding of the alpha itself. So why, knowing that Deucalion was so dark, knowing deep down that what he wanted from him was so evil, had he agreed? There was more to this than a mutual hatred for hunters. Yet, Hayden had a agreed, made a deal with the Demon Wolf.
Sighing, Hayden tried to push those thoughts out of his mind. He was doing the right thing. The Argents were widely known for extremism. And all those stories led back to the same man, to Gerard Argent. But this.. What Hayden was planning... It made him feel darker than he had ever felt before. And as he closed his eyes, sent a silent prayer to the ancient gods of his ancestors, focused on the throbbing wavelengths of energy flowing through his apartment, drew in the power of the telluric currents, one word seemed to flow into his mind. A word he barely knew, one that he only had heard once. A word his mother had mentioned to him, a scary story really. The name of the dark ones, the druids who had turned to evil, who had fallen from the Path of Balance...
Darach...
Ignoring it, trying to hide his fear, Hayden knelt before the altar, looking down at the wooden bowl filled with herbs. Lying on top was a small oak branch, the leaves still green, the acorns still present. He had collected it mere minutes before, wanting it fresh. It's power still there. The oak tree was sacred to magic, sacred to witches and druids and the gods they had once followed. And the oak trees of Beacon Hills were even stronger... A strange energy buried within them. Pulled up from their roots... Remnants of an ancient power that had apparently once flowed through this town. A power that had most likely denoted the name beacon which the town had adopted.
Smiling at the branch, Hayden held his hands out over it. He needed its power. He needed power in general. Hunting the worlds most sadistic hunter was going to be a feat in and of itself. The man was well hidden, his location unknown to almost everyone. And without Chey to ask, as if he could, Hayden knew only the Telluric Currents could lead him to his prize. But to take Gerard down, he would need a lot more power. Power that not even the mighty oak could give him. He would need dark and ancient power. Power that must be taken from others...
Hold his wrist out over the bowl, Hayden closed his eyes, sliding the small black ring dagger from his boot out with his other hand and holding it in the air. "Nemeton, rabhchan arsa, doras do na deithe, iasacht dom do neart. Tog an íobairt ..."
With that, he pulled the blade against the skin of his wrist, cutting deep. The blood flowed freely, dripping into the bowl as he continued the incantation. As if a gust of wind had passed through the room, the candle flames began to whip about, a clap of thunder ringing out from the near cloudless sky outside. A dark, almost sadistic, smile spread across Hayden's lips as it did. Opening his eyes, that smile grew wider. As the energy of the telluric currents followed through him, a bright almost white energy seemed to shine across his eyes, vanishing into his pupils. Pupils which dilated outwards, farther than any human's should...
-----------------------------------+~~~~~~~~*~~~~--+--~~~~*~~~~~~~~+-----------------------------------
~ 2 HOURS LATER ~
The cool October air felt good as it blew against him, the layers of clothing making him a little warm even on a cool night. His classic black biker boots, black jeans, a dark gray t-shirt, black hoodie, and black leather jacket... He was invisible in the darkness of the forest. The clouds above them had blocked out the moon and stars... The forest had faded into an eerie maze of dark outlines. But Hayden wasn't afraid... Nor was he blinded by the darkness. Standing in the path of the telluric currents, flowing beneath the earth on which his feet where firmly planet, their energy gave Hayden sight. Gave him the power to see everything within their winding barriers, and he saw not far from him exactly what he was seeking. No, not what, who he was seeking. Her fear and confusion as she tried to make it home had called out to him, some part of him receiving that call as if a beacon had been sent out. But she was just the bait. He didn't need her, nor did he honestly care what happened to her. No, it wasn't her he was seeking. She had just led it to him. Led the hunter right to him...
With all that was happening in Beacon Hills, all the strange events and increasing amounts of supernatural beings showing up there, it was only a matter of time before other hunters had arrived as well. And not all of them followed the so-called code. No, many of them instead followed another code: if it isn't human, destroy it. That was fine, Hayden was fine with that. Their code was to destroy the supernaturals and all those connected to him. Fine, his code was to destroy them.
Jerking his head around to the sound of a branch breaking, Hayden waited. She was running, fast. She was young, scared. Her pursuer wasn't far behind her... His weapon drawn. Any second he would take her down. He doubted the hunter even realized the age of his prey, or cared. But as the clouds passed by, the light of the moon shining down on them, he looked up at the girl as she came to a halt a little over a dozen feet from him. He could only guess what she thought, being pursued by a hunter in the forest only to come upon a dark mysterious figure, obscured by the dark, his face hidden under his hood.
Listening closely to her panting breath, Hayden smiled as the hunter came in behind her. The dim glow of the white light from his pupils visible even under the hood, Hayden raised his right arm, hand outstretch as if to shove her. But she wasn't his target. She was simply in his way.
"MOVE!" He yelled out to her, drawing in the power from beneath his feet as he saw the hunter raise his gun, the sound of him cocking the hammer like an explosion in his ears. It was now or never...
