Name: Westley Janus Owen
Age at death: 23 | Actual age: 100
Species: Aurazin
Role: Empath
Face Claim: Ezra Miller

Clever | Funny | Adaptive
Innocent | Out of touch w/ reality | Irresponsible

Westley Owen was born into a world fraught with tension and strife. In some ways, in almost one hundred years, the racial divide and political tension have barely changed. His parents were better equipped to raise children than most when he was born. His father was a pastor in the Orthodox Jew community and three years his wife’s senior. They’d been engaged to be married since they were in their mid teens and it was no surprise to anyone that it worked out well. They both loved ministry and had a heart for the poor, despite not having much, Rachael and Janus Owen always gave to others. It didn’t only make them happy during the days of pre-war rationing in Germany, but it also brought people into their lives from all stations: the homeless, the enabling, and even the disgraced army officers. There was tension brewing in the country, but Rachael and Janus had always managed to fit well enough into the tightening racial divide. Provided they dropped their accents, their light brown hair and green eyes were considered acceptable in Hitler’s regime of Aryan Nationalism.

Westley was six by the time that the war started and unlike his parents who could easily pass as German, he inherited his grandfather’s dark eyes and brown hair, traits that seemed to arouse a lot of suspicion. The family did their best to remain under the radar, but it wasn’t long before their house was marked with a five point star in gold paint and officers came by demanding that they sew the once precious religious symbol to their clothing, too. Rachael and Jan managed to keep most of it above Westley’s head. He was a little boy and despite being hungry sometimes, things like rationing tended to float above his head. It wasn’t until he was seven that people began disappearing off the streets: neighbors, friends, and even family. It was talked about in whispers and his community did their best to keep their shoulders up, but follow the new instringint rules that were being put in place. For a while, it seemed like they would manage. Food was scarce and rent prices soared, but having the church behind them, almost everyone wanted to contribute to the lives of the young pastor and his family, even when they didn’t have much to give. It was only in the fall once the cold came that Westley noticed food parcels came less often and on Sundays, people no longer showed up for church. His parents tried to explain that it was dangerous and that in times of war, everyone tried to do their best, but he didn’t understand why one group of people would dislike another so much that they would keep them away from the people they loved.

By the end of winter, many had died. Westley noticed that his Mama had a cough deep in her chest and despite trying to stay near the fire, he knew that she did not look well. However, it wasn’t the cold or the poor nutrition that took her away. It was the state police. The knock on the door didn’t come as a surprise to either Rachael or Janus. They had been helping their neighbors for far longer than was normally tolerated and although it was Janus who was in trouble, Rachael insisted on going with them, knowing that she had little time left and their son would need a guardian once she was gone. The news over the radio that night was grim. It spoke of Jews being rounded up and taken into the country to internment camps, like cattle, where they would live apart from the Germans. Westley didn’t understand, but an innocent hope sparked in him that when the war was over...he would see his mother again.

That was never to happen and the war dragged on with little change. It was only six months later that Westley and his father were carted off in the middle of the night to the other side of Germany. He had the wrong idea that as soon as they arrived inside the barbed wire fences and stark brick buildings, he would see his mother’s smiling face. She would be tired, much like when he had the flu some years ago, but she would be there. To his shock and surprise, it was that morning that he was also separated from his father and sent on alone to the women’s camp. However, there was not a single friendly face in the crowd of pinched strangers who gathered momentarily before being harshly dismissed by an officer who yelled more than he spoke.

The following months were dreery. Every rule was enforced punishable by a severity that he didn’t know had existed. Laughter was no more. During the day time, he spent many hours rolling bandages and packaging boxes of supplies that would be used by the German soldiers. It was done in silence, under bright light, in straight lines, even when his legs were tired. He often spent fleeting seconds looking out the dusty windows and wondered if his other life had been a dream. However, even in the darkest moments, there was brief respite. Children managed to find ways to play, even under the watchful eyes of the guards. Bits of supplies would be stolen, traded, and made into crude toys. While he wasn’t supposed to refer to them by name, he learned that Prisoner 20310 was actually named George and he was sixteen. He was twice Westley’s age and became a bit of a big brother. It was only once they got close, that he disappeared, having been moved into the men’s camp.

Relationships were actively discouraged, but it wasn’t this that began to ire Westley. He’d always loved to move. He needed exercise and being told to stand still for twelve hours was a lot to ask of any young man. Even scratching your ear or looking up from your work was punishable, but sometimes to make it worse, the punishments were inflicted on someone else. It was an easy way to turn people against their own. Westley got good at being sneaky. He learned the way the guards moved, picked up their codes, and became very well behaved.

It was so much so that a particular doctor became interested in him. His name was Joseph Mengele. He told many people that he studied the mind and at first, Westley liked him. It was nice to be allowed in his study and despite what everyone else had said, he wasn’t afraid. At first, all he wanted to do with Wes was ask questions. For many hours, the two of them would sit together and he would report on what went on in the camp. After having his speech so badly restricted, the young boy didn’t know what he was really doing. He’d never heard of being a tattle tale. He no longer had parents who told him that Doctors weren’t always trustworthy. For six months, Westley spent time in Doctor Joseph’s office, talking about camp, hoping in the innocent way of a child that he would see improvements to the lives of those around him. Instead, he became a confidential informant to plans of the desperate people under cruel leaders.

This continued for many years and eventually, Westley became an outcast among his own people. He didn’t know why or what he’d done, until suddenly the allied troops were approaching the gates. It was only then that instead of being sheltered by a group of people ready to be rescued, he was pushed towards the fleeing Germans and abandoned by them as well, locked in a cold, dark room, and forced to wait. It was only as the breath began coming fast and hard in his lungs that he realized: he was dying. The soldiers never found his body and as a young man, he drifted in the veil of Auschwitz for many months. It wasn’t empty. There were many souls who felt their death had been unfair or too soon. He stayed, primarily, out of confusion. The boy manipulated, taken in by darkness, was now sentenced to live in it knowing he’d sent many strangers to their own deaths.

It was only when he anchored himself to that reality that light found him. The Aurazin said that everyone deserves a second chance, to make things right, and help others find peace. Westley wanted to understand and help others find the same kind of healing that he’d been denied. His entire race had been beaten, and broken, and used. For the next year, he trained with a mentor to help others find peace in their shell shock and as he did, he found it himself. He worked drifting from the veil and to earth for many years, before the connection suddenly ruptured. It was a brutal reminder of everything he’d experienced many years ago, being stuck in a box the size of a drawer. However, like many Aurazin, Westley has found his way to Evermore and continues to try to bring comfort to passing souls. They may not find their place for many years, but everyone deserves the opportunity.