It wasn’t until he was fourteen when things took a nose dive and watching his parents kill one another was way worse than any horror flick. It was one of the times when his parents allowed him to go along with them on a hunt—something about needing to see it if he ever expected to be a great hunter like them both and it was also literally the worst night of his life. The sight of one parent being possessed would be enough to make the happiest person in the world depressed or perhaps suicidal but when it is both, and you are outnumbered that you could do nothing but hide. Chanting only part of an exorcism, the only part he remembers would only do so much. It didn’t help the bodies as they were slashed to shreds by the other and sent across the forest like ragdolls. His family was dying but instead of ending him they allowed Xavier to look on and watch his parents take their last breaths.
Xavier was taken into the system shortly after and placed up for adoption, yet nothing was the same. Nothing could ever be the same, not even when he was taken in by the Matthews family and eventually adopted by them. The first few months being in the family were the worst as he often sat up in his room drawing (rather morbid) depictions of his family—his old family and searching lore’s, trading his allowance for weapons and really anything he could get his hands on. He wanted to continue the line his parents drew for him and most importantly find the demons and make sure they remember just what happened. It wasn’t until his brother;Cabe extended his hand in regards to helping him, not only out of the house but into the real world. Xavier knows of Sam and Dean having witnessed them work while his parents were out on a job and is willing to do anything at all if it meant to help them both, no matter how many times he was rejected.
Tough taking that attitude with him he decided to work a case, one which involved a certain fluffy dog with a nasty taste for human heart. And of course this case ended with the shifter in the dirt and a horrible bite mark to his side. Yes, Xavier was now a shapeshifter—one thing he wanted to protect humanity from. Yet, instead of giving up due to his new development he continued to press on with the matter. He is still willing to do anything to become a great hunter like his parents.
So I believe it might be for the best if I left this rpg. As fun as it is it wasn’t what I thought it may be and I feel like I could fit in as well as someone else. Please do not take this into offense and I’m sorry to come in just to leave. I hope you all understand.
~Kacey.
Dean scanned his brain for any mention of Argent, dad’s journal, old contacts, but nothing was ringing a bell, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow familiar, he just nodded, he could tell the boy didn’t want to talk about it any further anyways. “I can only imagine what you’ve heard, I’m sure most of it’s true in one sense or another, anything dealing with being a pain in the ass definitely, and talking and drinking too much for our own good.”He clapped his hands together, trying to shake the sudden tension. He knew most hunters has dark baggage everywhere they went. “I assume you’re in the line of work too.” Most kids with hunters were, either they ended up in it by accident or born and raised. “If you ever need help, you can call on my brother and I.”
Xavier scoffed slightly as he rolled his neck, shoulders lifting in the process. “It could be true, then again I’ve heard much worse.” Xavier continued, voice just as mono-toned as ever. It was as if he was absolutely bored, something he learned from his father or when he was alive. It slowly became a force of habit not to show your true emotions, to be cold. You’d never know when you’d have to kill the person across from you so there was no reason to be friendly. “It’s not like I’ve been told much anyways so the stories mean nothing to me, personally.” That much was true, Xavier was never that big of a fan to Sam and Dean yet it didn’t stop him from a little mutual conversation here and there.
Jumping slightly at the clap, his eyes locked on the mans hands, his own moving towards his pocket knife, one which he kept clipped to his pants. The blade was made of silver and had been dipped in holy water, something and though he couldn’t personally touch the blade, it almost always came in handy. “Something like that, I’m just seeing how it will work out, but I think I’ll stick with it.” Again, the truth as he let go of his knife, dropping his hand free to the side, the other moving to brush through his wild curls. “Do you think I can do it?”
“Your dad?” He tried to think of all the hunters he had worked with over the years, any matching his profile. “That’s a tough one to say, I’m in a rare line of work, kid. Seeing as you’re calling me out, you must have some idea of that already. Which means you know it is very rare we work with each other unless we’re called for help. If it helps you out any, it’s Dean Winchester, that usually rings a few bells for people.”Dean suddenly felt uneasy. If a hunter hadn’t worked with him personally, then they usually worked with his father, John. He knew for a fact those never really ended well, his father had lost a lot of friends over the years. He silently hoped this wasn’t another case like Jo’s dad.
Xavier shrugged as he peered over Dean’s shoulder and off into the distance, now just half listening. A part of him would have loved to carry on the conversation yet another, one deep down was telling him to stop. Perhaps it was the fact that they were both bring up things that should be forgotten, or that maybe it was just him speaking too much for his own damn good. “I know how it is.” Xavier said after a moment, eyes moving back to look at Dean, “my dad was Evan Argent, not that it ever rungs a few bells with people. But I have heard of the Winchesters, passing stories.”
Licking his bottom lip, the boy pushed his mind away from his past and back to the present. He wasn’t fond of talking about his parents or even his adoptive family. He just knew that as long as someone was willing, human or not, he could help. Or he could die trying at that. The teen rarely had cases, not due to his disinterest but more so to do with the lack of actual work. More experienced hunters usually took over when he tried. Even when they didn’t they tended to call him out on being just a kid. Yet he didn’t feel like a kid, he was blessed with a curse and the need to protect, that should of been enough but naturally it was not.
“I’m just peachy. I’m Dean.” he offered his hand.
Eying the older male critically, Xavier extended his hand, shaking Dean’s with a firm shake. One of which his father taught him, first impressions were always the deciding factor for them. Or so he assumed as much, they could mean life or death in the world of hunters and Xavier knew that just by something as little as a hand shake, you could tell what type of person you were potentially dealing with. Nodding his head slightly, he cocked it to the side, “Xavier.” The boy spoke out, same tone as before. Normally on any introduction he would let his full name be known—this was not one of those times, “I’ll be forward, you remind me of someone. Did you work with my father?” Xavier asked after a moment, lips pressing together in a firm line before clearing his throat, anyone could answer and if this man was actually a hunter, well he’d understand. If not, then he could just brush it off and they would move on as if nothing had happened. “At any rate, it’s a pleasure.”
“Are you okay, kid?”
I’m fine… Are you okay? You look familiar…
