In the world of beasts, we rise {Teen Wolf plot}
Mar 14, 2014 17:56:26 GMT -5
Post by Python on Mar 14, 2014 17:56:26 GMT -5
If you could only see the beast you've made of me
D E D R I C H A L E
DISTRICT2 | EIGHTEEN
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D E D R I C H A L E
DISTRICT2 | EIGHTEEN
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Tonight there would be a full moon.
Not that this meant anything to the last remnant of the old Hale religion. The beliefs had burned with his family’s bones, withering to ashes beneath a disheveled roof leaving whispers of memories behind. He could understand their admiration of the moon’s children; wolves were experienced hunters, guided by instinct to thrive in the darkness as a pack where there was strength in numbers and trust between members. Teamwork was the key to survival, all organized beneath the eyes of an alpha - the trueborn leader who earned its worthy title. A “pack” was what his family had always labeled itself, and Dedric had once been a member of it despite his hesitation to practice true worship and conform to his family’s obsessive “old ways.” Now he was the lone wolf, severed from every bond forged by blood. The last Hale.
He couldn’t carry their legacy.
There was passion somewhere past the cold façade – rage hotter than fire, anguish deeper than a fatal wound, but there was no room for his family’s dead religion. He simply couldn’t find it within himself to love the mighty beasts as they had. Let the Argents believe what they wanted - Dedric Hale was no wolf. He was just the outcast descendant, the man left with only fragments to mend on his own. He had managed to scrounge up a “pack” of his own (though he would rather stifle the old habit of calling it that), a little flock of underprivileged hormonal teenagers that trained beneath an experienced chaperone’s criticizing gaze. When the idea first came to him all those months ago he had expected to recruit one, two, maybe three desperate kids. Four had been the limit, until some of them had started to bring friends.
Now his loft was a madhouse during training sessions. It always felt as if there were plenty of bodies but not enough dummies. These things weren’t cheap, and just recently he had been forced to downgrade to straw figures. Still, there were plenty of dummies arranged throughout the open space for various sorts of activities – even a few targets planted here and there for archery. Alita would be most talented with those, and by the end of today’s gathering he expected to pluck an arrow out of the center of every target. Then there were students like Jairus – a burly ball of competitive aggression and arrogance that would most likely attempt to destroy every dummy in sight, save for the few Dedric would guard for the less experienced hands. He was quite sure that Jairus did not belong in a place like this; he was already wealthy, privileged and blessed with natural talent. The career stereotype as presented on television.
It wasn’t just Jairus, either. Hands practically glued together he always brought his girlfriend without permission, displaying her like a trophy in this ugly room. He was nothing less than a show-off, yet while Dedric could reject his company he was too stubborn to heed his orders. He also couldn’t deny Liela’s company if she was serious about training alongside him, because she wasn’t much of a fighter, but he would only tolerate her if she took it seriously instead of strutting around and wasting his time. Her presence posed another problem as well, but only to one. Another straggler, actually, dragged along by Soren to the meetings. Or rather, it was more like the boy following his best friend like a puppy. Stiles Stilinksi. He had to be the least competent of the group, and the most distracted. Dedric couldn’t kick him out either because he was just as deserving as Soren, but if the kid planned to accomplish anything he would have to narrow his focus a lot. Lielia tagging along with Jairus did not help, since all the kid could do was pine over her.
Not all was hopeless and uncertain, though. There was an opposite end to this spectrum, one of wishes full-filled and pride gained. Teens like Soren, Icarus, Erin, Boyd and Alita were the flourishing pupils that could actually take this seriously and improve at unexpectedly impressive rates. He could use them as motivating examples for Stiles and Liela, as constant reminders that one day they could be that strong and agile and accurate as well if they put their hearts and souls into their work.
For now, it was one step at a time. Everyone was on a different level, and he would have to note each individual’s progress.
As the sun remained suspended over the horizon like a golden pendant, Dedric checked his watch and leaned against the window sill of the loft. They were due in fifteen minutes, though he knew there would be early birds either psyching themselves up for a day of success or rubbing their eyelids wishing that the sun would set quicker. He couldn’t really blame them – he was a teenager too, after all. Eighteen and still aware of how the education system and the workforce functioned. Some would be tired of a day’s worth of labor, others would be swamped with homework. He understood all of it, but that didn’t necessarily mean he would show mercy. This was career training, and essentially it was simulating the real deal. The real Hunger Games, where targets moved and tried to hit you back twice as hard. If any of these teens happened to be reaped, they could not afford to slack off.
That was why he had volunteered to offer training in the first place – on the off-chance that some unfortunate soul with zero weapons’ experience were to be plucked and thrust into the Games to be slaughtered like undeserving prey. The harsh truth was that equality did not and could not exist, even in a career district infamous for its top-notch warriors. Where there were strong trainees there were also harmless orphans. Where there were kids blessed to be born into the right family, there were those who were never even offered a chance. There were plenty of careers, but there were also plenty of poor souls who carried only bad luck and loose change in their pockets.
Dedric Hale wanted to change this. He knew he couldn’t save everyone – he certainly couldn’t save his own damn family from a group of stupid hunters – but he could try. And who knows, maybe it will save a life or two.
As he heard the front door swing open, he turned around._____________________________________________________
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