Name: Declan McMaster

Age: 24

Species: Therianthrope; Lycanthrope

Current Residence: Evermore City, Colorado

Face claim: K.J Apa

Positive: steadfast, dependable, observant, conscientious || Negative: can be aggressive, impulsive, detached

Earlier that night, as he slumped into the booth in the farthest corner to the extreme back of the insanely and annoyingly overcrowded diner where he hoped the waitress with the peculiarly blue tinted hair and lipstick coated teeth might take pity on him and feed him some of the "world's best apple pie" that the sign on the door had claimed, declan had begun taking stock of his life. to add insult to injury, it was a torrential downpour outside and he was wet and alone...and hunted. Always hunted.

like clockwork the old waitress came over to his table as he practiced his best at being jovial, mustering up a crooked but pathetic smile as she asked in a nasally north east american accent..boston? no. jersey.

"what can i get ya, honey?" that voice resonated deep inside of declan and he tried on a most world-weary tone in return "i..only have enough for a water, ma'am. but if i could, it would be most appreciated if you'd let me sit here a while to warm up?"

now..one thing inherent in declan was the natural ability to charm. it didn't take much but a look..a subtle change in inflection to his voice..and you find yourself wanting to give him your last dime. and this waitress in this grimy truck stop was no exception.

"lemme get you a nice slice of our apple pie, some coffee on the side to warm up those insides" declan nodding with a wider smile "yes, thank you. that's very kind of you."

and as he settled back into his seat..there she was. that same girl who had been sneaking into his consciousness as well as his subconsciousness for the past week. flashes of her face...scenes where they were together. in danger and out of it. but always she was there.

in those visions he knew her...trusted her..would go into the fire for her and his mind's eye knew these things. but the declan sitting in that diner..he didn't know this girl. he'd never laid eyes on her. he'd never spoken to her. it was the strangest feeling and on top of trying to hide among the immense forests across four continents, finding places even deeper when each new full moon would emerge...this was just an addition to the plethora of bullshit he had been dealing with for far too long. but the more he saw her, the more he knew he needed to find her.

his thoughts suddenly interrupted as his pie and coffee had been delivered, sipping the steaming brew, enjoying the burn as it hit his throat. shoveling some of the pie into his mouth. the cool contrast as she added some vanilla ice cream was a welcome one.

when he knew he was alone with his own thoughts, after the kindly old waitress had ceased with the hovering, he began to contemplate deeply his life and how he ended up in this diner this night. it had all started out normal enough, for a child born of werewolves. his father, glenn, did his best to make sure of it. his mother? he never met her. years later he would learn why. how she'd been, while in human form, caught, tortured and finally murdered...slaughtered...he was given more details as he got older. the senseless torture. and as the family had lived in peace away from humans who would be in any danger from their kind, harmless. it was an unjust, senseless death. and it left a piece broken inside of declan that he knew would never be repaired.

so he lived a life without many friends save for those among the small group of families his father could trust. there would be no siblings or celebrations of birthdays or holidays. but for declan, these things were unknown to him, so he never missed them. for the most part, he was happy. spending his days reading, riding horses, even doing things "normal" boys did, climbing trees, skinning knees and chasing fireflies.

the one promise he made and that he had kept until the night his father had been taken from him, was to never tell, never reveal..just what he was. not to anyone outside of the small clans his father had deemed righteous. to anyone declan might run across outside of the borders he had made for them, not under any circumstance. it was too risky. and it was not an easy promise to keep. there were times, such as the aforementioned skinned knees, that his lycan trait of accelerated healing would help him without his trying. those were the times they ran. to other safe houses and into the deepest parts of the forests that declan had now returned to.

this continued for years. he was seventeen when they came. ripping his father apart in front of him. the agony of the promise weighing so heavy on his soul. he wanted to die with his father, but the hunters had mistaken declan for a boy the wolf had kidnapped. some hapless youth his father had possibly been stalking for months. maybe he snatched him while he was fishing in one of the many rivers that flowed through those very woods. hell, maybe the god damn mongrel took the boy right from his bed while he slept. it didn't matter. the promise had kept declan off the radar. but he had been fully prepared to die with his father. so why didn't he speak up? you don't let go of that kind of guilt. no matter how much you try to push it down so deep within you. the pain never goes away. his actions after were that of pure anger and pure grief. he left not one soul alive besides his own before disappearing to parts unknown. 

after that, declan stopped chaining himself up during full moons. the anger he felt when he realized he could have protected his father had he only never asked him to make that promise only magnified the guilt. he spent the next seven years unapologetic. he let the wolf completely take control and it felt good. it felt damn good. with every shift it was as if a weight had been lifted from his heavily burdened shoulders. and it was the most free he had felt in his whole life. drawn to evermore, he felt a surge of power that he never had in any other country, city, state or province he'd spent time in. the idea of a place where the gifted and the non-human lived a peaceful existence among their own kind seemed like some sort of pipedream he might have conjured up himself during those quiet moments he all too often found himself in. this detour, however, had not been in his immediate plans.

a mug shattering to the linoleum startled from his thoughts. and without remembering taking another bite, he had soon finished the last of the pie and stealthily slipped out the back door into the ally. no one watching could have known of what lie deep inside of declan. but if they did..they would have given him a wide berth. they would have gone home thankful just to be alive after coming in contact with a man like him. kissed their kids and went to bed grateful to have come through such an ordeal in one piece.

but the men now watching from the shadows don't know these important details about him. so that when they went on the attack and a by no means slight or weak looking declan had taken on all of them with a grace and an agility that seemed to defy the laws of physics, there's no doubt they'd wish someone had clued them in, warned them to wait for the next poor sap to wander down that deserted alley.

then just before...milliseconds before..the total and complete annihilation of said men...something...someone..caught declan's attention. still in a fighter's stance, fists outstretched in front of him, his head turned slowly, in a state of total and complete disbelief as the girl from his dreams was now looking directly at him, eyes locked. there was a glowing electric blue light that surrounded her, and he only realized then that she was wearing the same shirt as the one in the first vision he had had of her. his voice incredulous as his eyes had gone back to their normal hazel hue "i...i know you..."

then just like that, as though her form had become some sort of jackson pollock masterpiece, her body began to swirl and rotate until colors began mixing together, the blue of her shirt, the olive tone of her skin combining into some strange massive blob. declan squinted his eyes while trying to keep at least some of his attention on these men, now in a catatonic state, partially his doing, more their own. you don't tend to walk away from lycan attack unscathed. just think of how worse it would have been on a full moon.

and in a split second, like some fevered dream, his manic pixie dream girl...or whatever she was...was gone. above where she had stood, a billboard he swore had not been there before. in huge white font on top of majestic snowy mountain tops read "all roads lead to evermore".