Raven Hendrixson

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Raven Hendrixson

Post by Raven Hendrixson on Sun Dec 20, 2015 6:09 am


~*~First Born Son~*~

"You did so well, my love."

The woman looked up to her husband, giving him an exhausted yet happy smile. The man beamed back at her despite the dark bags under his eyes, glad that all the waiting and worry was over and proud beyond words of his beautiful wife and healthy son. "You never told me what name you'd chosen for him."

The new mother gave a breathy chuckle, looking back down at the slumbering bundle in her arms, "I think I'll call him 'Raven', in honor of his father," she answered, returning her gaze to her husband. The man's smile shifted to an odd expression of confusion and light disappointment.

"Don't you think that's a little redundant? He does carry my genes, after all, and so will be what I am."

"You don't know that."

"But I do. He will be half, yes, but he will still have the same abilities. It would be different if you, too, were a shift--or even part--instead of full-blood human. As it is, a raven is what he will be; do you really want to name him one as well?"

The woman gave him an irritable glare. She had decided on this name some time ago, and there was nothing that would change her mind. Her husband, receiving the silent message, lifted his hands in surrender and chuckled. "Alright, alright. Raven it is."

~*~Instrument of the Heart~*~

Raven sat on the bed and listened in a trance as his mother strummed and picked at the guitar sitting on her lap, the haunting music perfectly accompanying her soft voice. He'd never heard one, but he had always thought that this was what the voices of the angels sounded like.

The song ended, his mother drawing out the last note softer and softer as if she were moving farther and farther away as the last strum of the guitar died out, and Raven clapped heartily. "Momma? Think I could ever play like you?"

"Of course, Raven! You'd just have to practice a lot."

"Really?! Can you teach me??" The boy hopped up onto his knees, waddling over to his mother's end of the bed to observe.

"I can. At least, I can get you started. Here," the woman handed him the full-sized instrument that was practically bigger than he was, the boy having to stretch to reach the strings at the body and on the neck at the same time.

"Are you sure you want to learn this one, though?" His mother asked, "There are many different types of instruments out there, but only one that will truly speak to your heart."

The boy nodded, looking down at the beautiful, lacquered wood with an odd fondness, "Yeah. I like this one."

~*~When Three Became Four~*~

At six years old, being handed a newborn baby was probably the strangest thing that Raven had ever experienced.

After a long, boring wait in the lobby of a hospital that smelled funny, he was ushered through hallways and doors that opened by themselves to a room where his mother was propped up in a bed. He had been told what was happening, but it was just all so confusing to him even so. After all that, he was sat down in a big, fluffy chair and his father very gently lowered a bundle of blankets into his lap and arms. It was surprisingly heavy.

Then, he looked at it. Wide, brown eyes stared up at him from a chubby face, and he would later recall that his heart had instantly melted.

"Raven, meet your little sister, Aya," his mother said softly.

"Aya..." he repeated, studying the little, gurgling creature on his lap a moment longer before breaking out into an excited grin, looking up and, much to the surprise and amusement of his parents, saying: "What instrument do you think she'll play?"

~*~The Man in Black~*~

Male voices drifted down the hallway, distracting the boy from his practice with the new, smaller guitar he had been given for his seventh birthday. He set it aside, wandering out of his room to find that his sister was also curious about the new sound. "C'mon, Aya," he whispered, grasping her hand and leading her into the living room. They entered slowly, Aya toddling behind her big brother, one hand still clasping his while the other held the body of the My Little Pony whose hind hoof she was busy chewing on.

"Ah! Perfect timing, Raven. Come, I want you to meet a colleague of mine," His father said, waving them over. Raven did as asked, moving over to where his father sat. A movement caught his eye, and he looked over to see a tall, dark man standing from his own seat. Raven looked up in awe as the gentleman towered over them, immaculately dressed in a pressed button-up shirt, slacks and tie, each one black or shades thereof with trims here and there of light grey. His hair was slicked back into a low ponytail, not a strand out of place, and his face set in harsh angles.

"Mr. Creoson, this is my son, Raven, and my daughter Aya. Kids? This is Mr. Adonaias Creoson, a very important man at my work. Greet him properly, Raven."

"A pleasure to meet you, Sir," he said as he had been taught to do, holding his hand out in greeting. The man seemed to study the outstretched limb for a moment before clasping hands and giving a brief shake.

"Likewise," he said, his tone deep and unhumored as his other hand reached into a pocket and brought out a silk handkerchief to elegantly wipe the palm of the one that had done the shaking.

"Poh!" Aya announced, having taken the figurine from her mouth and was now holding it out toward the new stranger.

Raven watched Adonaias look down at the girl as if he had just noticed she was there, a brow raised at the slime-covered toy. The boy glanced at his sister before looking back up at the man, "That means 'pony'," he offered.

"Yes. I gathered."

"Mr. Creoson will be staying with us for dinner, tonight, so you two behave yourselves, alright?" His father said, and Raven nodded.

As the evening went on, the frigid stranger seemed to warm up a bit toward the family, though he mostly ignored the children. Even so, there was something impressive about him to the young boy, and Raven found himself studying the man while at dinner. He sat straight, like him, squaring his shoulders as best he could in mimic, though he couldn't quite get the angular precision the stranger carried. He switched hands that his utensils were in, like him, trying to figure out just how he ate with his fork upside down like that. He even tried to match some of his facial expressions, though without a mirror he wasn't quite sure if he was getting it or not.

When dinner had finished and the gentleman was about to leave, Raven caught his attention once more. "Will you come back to have dinner again?" He asked, hopeful. He wanted to learn more about this stranger, and practice being as prim and proper as him.

The man studied Raven for a good, long moment, then gave a slow, strange smile that never quite reached his eyes. "Yes. I will come back again."

~*~Living Room Quartet~*~

The Christmas season had come around again, and it was at their home, this time, that his father's work had decided to host the Christmas Party. The family had practiced quite a bit beforehand, though playing together was nothing new. However, this time their little quartet had an audience. Raven didn't really mind, actually kind of enjoying being 'on stage' as it were in such a close setting rather than an auditorium in a school orchestra like he was used to. Though, of the two siblings, Aya seemed the most enthusiastic about it, demanding to be the one to announce the different pieces that they would be performing and moving more dramatically than she usually did when playing her half-size violin. With his father on the piano, their mother on the cello, and him of course on the guitar, the four actually made a nicely rounded quartet.

They had just finished the last notes of "What Child is This?" (or, as Raven preferred to call it, Green Sleeves) when he looked up to see Adonaias clapping in applause along with the rest of their guests. It was strange, the man seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself, something the boy had come to realize was a rare event. He wondered just how much about music the man knew; maybe he would play with them some day.

Raven Hendrixson

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Re: Raven Hendrixson

Post by Raven Hendrixson on Mon Aug 20, 2018 8:57 pm

~*~Campfire Cadenza~*~

Raven hiked back up the hill carrying the firewood for the night, pushing the frond of a rather large fern out of the way as he went.

Their father had been taking them out camping more and more often, lately. First it was fun, simple family trips, but as they got more and more used to it he started introducing them to backpacking and teaching him and his sister survival tips. Both as humans and as ravens. When either of them would ask him why, he would only ever respond with "You might need these skills, one day."

This trip, however, was strange. Usually it was the whole family or at least his father and sister and him, but this time it was just him and his father, and even though it had already been two days there still hadn't been any explanation as to why.

The young Raven's confusion began to turn to worry as he traveled back to the campsite. It was as if his father knew something the rest of them didn't, like he knew something was coming...something dangerous.

The rest of the daylight was spent gathering, hunting, and preparing the kill. By the time night fell, the rabbit was on the spit over the fire and wild roots and onions in a small pot, his father whittling something while Raven tended to the cooking. They ate their meal in silence, and it was only when everything had been cleaned up and the fire stoked once again that his father broke that quiet.

"Raven," he began, causing the boy to jump in his skin at the sudden sound and the fear at what it might bring, "now that you're thirteen, you must make a choice."

Here it comes, he thought. His mouth had gone dry, and he swallowed hard as his heart began to thump in his chest, Now he's going to tell me about whatever horrible thing is coming...and tell me that I'm going to have to leave.

"You know very well that we are not human. But not only are we able to become something else, we also have access to the power of the elements. Each element runs in a bloodline, and each base element--Earth, Air, Fire, Water--can branch off into others. Earth can become forest, for example. Water branches into ice or darkness. But for us, our bloodline is fire.

"When they come of age, every Shift, partly human or not, must choose a branch of their bloodline's element. But it's not as easy as just picking one." His father's gaze was dark and serious as he finally looked up at his son, catching his eye as if to drive the point home, "This is something that I will not be able to help you with. This, you will have to do alone. All I can do is stay by your side, here, at the campfire, and ensure your safety out here."

Raven's head was spinning with more questions than ever. This was not at all what he expected when his father had begun to speak, and the words he was understanding didn't seem to lead to anything terrible...yet, his father's demeanor spoke otherwise.

"Is this...dangerous? Or something?" He finally managed, feeling lame for being unable to word the question better, but it had been all he could form together from the swirl in his mind.

His father nodded slowly, "It can be, yes. Sometimes the mind of the Shift is what goes, sometimes the power is too much for them to handle and it ends up lashing out to hurt them and those around them. Which is why we are out here, and not at home. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded, though he was still wrapping his mind around the whole thing, trying to switch gears among all the new information. "I think so, yeah." He paused, his brow furrowing. Finally, his brain came back online, though he was still uncertain what his father was asking of him. "So...what do I do, now?"

"You remember learning about the Shamanic Journeys?" Raven nodded, "This is one of those, only with our own, particular take. You must delve deep within yourself, find your guide, and make your choice. Do you think you can do this?"

He nodded again, this time much more confident in what he had to do, "Yes."

"Good. Now, calm your heart and clear your mind. Breathe and look into the campfire until your eyes grow heavy, and let yourself sink into the space between thoughts..."

His father's voice began to fade as Raven followed the guiding tones, the fire before him dancing and snapping and licking at the air in a rhythm all its own. The swaying tongues hazed his mind, and soon his eyes slipped closed. He allowed his mind's eye to drift into the darkness behind those lids, and then further still.
Raven Hendrixson

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