Bleeding Revenge

My name is Beau Hadley. I'm co-founder of the Bloodhawks. I am either the nicest guy you'll ever meet, or the meanest. It just depends... are you human, or not?

[bloodhawkmicah]

He's Done it Again || Beau & Micah || SWP

[bloodhawkmicah]

Micah’s heart was pounding wildly in his ribcage as he saw Beau come up behind the vampire. he was glad that the male was there, certainly able to save him, but his panic could not be ceased. The vampire through Micah down hard on the ground, turning on Beau as the older Bloodhawk told Micah to run. He wanted to stay and fight, he reached into his bag to pull out his stake, standing slowly to his feet, his legs shaking beneath him. “I don’t want to le-” he was cut of as the contents of his stomach emptied into the alley. Embarrassed, Micah returned the stake to his bag, running around the corner of the building and sinking down against the wall. He didn’t keep an eye out for another supernatural like he should have, but fortunately there didn’t seem to be one around. 

Micah coughed, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of the suit he was using to impress the very Bloodhawk that was murdering the vampire that had attacked him. Would Beau be upset that Micah hadn’t fought the vampire himself? Or would he get a lecture for going into an alley at night in a crowded city, knowing what he knows? Micah sighed, just as he heard footfalls headed his way. Another vampire, fangs already extended walked towards him, a sick smirk painting his features. Micah wasn’t going to waste any time now. He put his hands in his bag, one hand gripping his dagger and the other his stake, acting helpless as the supernatural approached. “Sir…please help me…” Micah acted the part flawlessly, the grime on his face making him seem like he truly was the beggar. 

A dark chuckle escaped the vampire’s lips as he bent down and just as he was about to knick Micah’s neck with his fangs, Micah took action. He shoved the vampire off of him as hard as he could. A much as he wanted the experience of being fed from on a normal night, tonight was a different story. He didn’t plan on dying just yet. 

Micah wielded his dagger and stake simultaneously, taking the defensive position Brock had taught them in there last lesson. He could hear Beau’s voice from the alley beckoning him back, but he had to deal with this matter on his own. He swallowed, sending his dagger towards the vampire’s neck as the supernatural threw him roughly against the wall behind him. Micah groaned, quickly getting up when his body crumpled against the ground. The vampire grabbed him by the jaw, sending his skull straight into the wall again. Micah could feel the warmth of blood tricking past his hair. The vampire smirked "You smell absolutely delicious" he teased "But now I see you want to play." The vampire grabbed the hand with the dagger, releasing the weapon from Micah’s grip and breaking three of his fingers as if they were twigs. Micah grunted, kicking him away, but the supernatural was faster. 

One of the undead’s cool hands clawed down Micah’s torso, ripping his shirt and tossing him to the ground. The vampire then grabbed his arm, stepping roughly on the boys wrist until he heard a satisying crack. Micah yelled out and the vampire leaned in, ready to finally take his meal, but the boy couldn’t let that happen. He sent the stake through the vampire’s heart with the last of his energy. The cold body fell on top of his as he groaned. 

Micah pushed the vampire off of him, taking the dagger and severing it’s head, carrying it with his uninjured hand back to the alley “I have a skull, Beau.” he slurred, his knees nearly giving out “Are you proud?”

[beauxhadley-blog]

Beau snapped his head around at the sound of Micah’s weak voice. The boy could barely stand up and he had random blood splatters decorating his body. Beau saw that some of the blood was coming from his skull. “I’m very proud,” Beau replied, moving so he could take the skull out of the boys hands. “You did a great job,” he said, his voice gentle. “But you look like you’re about to collapse, so sit down.”

Beau collected the two vampire heads and lined them up. Beau could find a bag for them once he was sure Micah wasn’t going to faint. “Did any of them bite you?” Beau asked, having to ask the hard question first. It was a standard question for after any fight with a vampire or werewolf; make sure all the Bloodhawks remained human after the fighting was done. “And don’t lie if they did, that makes it harder later.” 

From out of his bag Beau pulled out his canteen of water. He handed it to Beau with directions to drink at least half of it. “Okay, I’m not hurt. But you are.” Beau said as he waited for Micah to drink. “What do we need to look at right now and what can wait until we are at the safehouse?” Any pressing injuries they could treat here, but anything non-life-threatening should wait until they get to Brocks house. 

“Are you good if I leave for about 10 minutes to find a bag?” Beau wanted to get to the safe house as soon as possible, which meant getting bags for the skulls. He knew there had to bags around here as the festivities would definitely have something large enough for skulls to fit into. “I don’t really want to leave you here…but we need to leave. Sooner rather than later.” Beau looked at Micah, brows furrowed, as he waited for an answer. He couldn’t get a gauge on for how hurt Micah was, as the boy often downplayed his injuries. 

[beauxhadley-blog]

Compass to my Dreams || The Enchanter || Challenge 007

Earlier in the day, Beau had been walking through Chile on his way home from buying some food. He had seen children sitting under a window of a small shop; they were discussing magic and whether or not it was real. Their little giggles felt like sharp pokes to Beau’s stomach. Their naivety was pure and they didn’t know the destruction magic would cause. One little girl said if she could perform magic, she would always make sure her hair stayed braided they way she wanted. Beau shook his head sadly; he knew that was one of the last things witches cared about. 

The conversation haunted Beau throughout the rest of the day. He wondered how many children had the same thought, what would I do if I had magic, and thought of an innocent spell that only enriched their lives, whether superficially or not. He started to imagine what Ronan might wish for, though it hurt his heart too much to continue. 

In Beau’s profession, having weapons infused with magic could make the Bloodhawks even deadlier. Just thinking about what damage his own weapons could do with magic mixed in. He could chose his favorite knife; make it invincible and able to kill all supernaturals with one touch. Or, he could choose to create a new weapon. Like Brocks idea, perhaps a new weapon that would be able to kill a demon without killing a human. Weapons and magic had a unlimited possibilities  for wreaking havoc on the abominations that littered around Athoria. 

Beau didn’t want a magical weapon though. The whole thought of taking magic and putting it into his daily life came from a child's musings;  how could he poison that innocence with something such as violence. 

If anything, Beau would want a compass that could point him in the direction of the manor he’d been dreaming about recently. He scarcely remembered his dreams unless they were night terrors. These dreams felt different though. They made him wake up with an itchy feeling all over his body, like he needed to be moving. The only way he could calm himself down after one of these dreams was to twirl around his new coin with his fingers. The repetitive motion eventually would allow Beau to fall back asleep. 

The compass would still have a sense of child-like wonder to it, Beau decided. A compass always pointing to a beautiful manor, it sounded like something out a child’s story book. 

Or a dream. 

[bloodhawkmicah]

He's Done it Again || Beau & Micah || SWP

Micah had come out to Brailston to celebrate the return of the King with the rest of Athoria. He was less interested in the returning royalty than he was the festivities around the town. Micah loved a lively atmosphere, and there were so many new things around that he’d never seen in The Slums or Chile. He wondered why he hadn’t spent more time in Brailston, outside of the jails. It had something to do with the fact that he didn’t think he belonged there. The city seemed just to fancy for his dirt covered form, just like when he went in to Monir. But Micah had just enough coins in his bag to b able to not have to steal everything, and it made the trip that much more fun. 

He smiled, chewing on a sweet cake he’d purchased from a vendor. It was so much more satisfying knowing he’d acually purchased, whether the money came from a honest place or not. In order to escape the crowd for a moment, Micah wandered slightly outside the center of the city, sitting in an alley between two buildings to enjoy his treat. The moon had just risen up into the night sky, illuminating the city. Micah smiled, contented with his position. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

He didn’t hear the tall slender man approach, unaware of his presence until his spindly fingers gripped Micah’s throat pulling him to a standing position. The vampire smirked to taunt the boy as Micah struggled to pull out his weapon, stabbing the vampire’s wrist to break himself free. Fear coursed through his veins as he held up the weapon in front of him, screaming, knowing he couldn’t run. Could he make it to a more public place without the vampire catching him first? Probably not, so he decided to try to fight it. Micah watched as the vampire moved closer to him slowly, like a lion stalking its helpless prey. 

[beauxhadley-blog]

Although Beau had seen some festivities of the kings return in Monir, it was nothing compared to Brailston. The whole city seemed like it was bursting full of energy of activities. Originally, Beau had been convinced to go from his moms pleading looks, but now that he was in Brailston he couldn’t feel feel the excitement creep into his bones. He didn’t feel one way or another about the Kings return, but the festivities were always fun for Beau. 

He had gone to Brailston on his own, leaving Ana by herself in the house. He had promised that he would bring her back a nice present. Beau wanted to get her a nice china cup for her daily tea, or a fancy dress; she deserved something good in her life. He was looking around the town to see if vendors were selling objects rather than just food, but a person caught his eye before he got a good look. 

Micah was walking through the crowds of happy, eating some food beau couldn’t decipher. Beau noticed that Micah was moving away from the crowd, rather than towards it. That made sense to Beau, as Micah wasn’t used to these huge settings with crowds of people. Beau felt he might be happy to see a familiar face, so he hurried off after Micah.

Quickly though, he lost Micahs’ form the crowd. Even though Beau was taller than a good portion of people in the crowd, it seemed like Micah disappeared. “He was always sneaky,” he grumbled to himself, moving more towards the edges of the crowd. Perhaps looking from the outside of the crowd might make it easier to spot Micah.

As Beau was scanning the crowd, out of the corner of his eye he saw a body move towards an alley. Beau quickly had to decide if he wanted to investigate or continue to look for Micah; the decision was made in seconds and Beau jogged to the alley. 

Beau was surprised to see Micah wielding a knife at the vampire. He hadn’t thought Micah would had gone into an alley knowing all he did about supernaturals, but the boy was young. And also in danger. 

The vampire was clearly concentrated on Micah, so Beau didn’t need to mask his movements. The vampire took one step closer to Micah, than two. Beau didn’t have a stake on him, and there was no fire nearby, so the only option was to behead the vampire. In cases like this, Beau was glad he always carried around his favorite knife, plus a longer dagger. 

It was easier than expected to approach the vampire from behind. The knife slid easily into the middle vampires neck and Beau was successful at halfway decapitating it when he pulled the knife out. Still, the vampire had half of his head still connected to his body and that was half too much. As soon as the knife pierced the vampire, its attention turned to Beau. “Micah” Beau called out as soon as the vampire tried to strike him. “Run.” The vampire tried to wrap its hands around Beaus neck, but he was too quick. Using the dagger to strike the heart, which wouldn’t successfully kill it, Beau was able to dig the knife into the other side of the vampires neck. 

Just as the Vampire managed to get one hand around Beaus neck, the last remaining bit of skin connecting the vampires head to its body was sliced by his knife. The head rolled to the ground and the body collapsed in front of him. “Shit,” Beau said and looked around for a cloth he could wipe his weapons with. He didn’t want the blood to dry on them. 

“Micah,” he called out, after deicing to use the vampires own clothes to get rid of the blood. “It’s okay, its dead.” Beau called out. He stared at the vampire for a minute, then kicked the head farther from the body. “Okay, before we join the festivities, I want a bag for the head and a torch to light this fucker on fire.” He said, still staring at the vampire, just assuming that Micah was close enough to be able to hear him. 

[beauxhadley-blog]

Oops, I made Beau in the Sims4.

[beauxhadley-blog]

Toss a Coin || Self-Para

Beau’s favorite suit had tea stains in it, thanks for Micah. As much as Ana had tried to get the stains out, it was no use; he suit was soiled. Beau knew he would have to travel to Monir to find a suitable replacement. All of his favorite shoppes were there and he always found clothes that suited his needs. 

The journey could be a day trip if Beau liked, however he decided to stay the night so he could spend time at a tavern. He hadn’t been to one since his visit with Brock, which seemed much too long ago. Even at that tavern, he hadn’t found a suitable lady to spend some more intimate time with. He hadn't had a lady grace his private company in fair too long- Beau missed the sight of long brown hair adorning his pillow in candlelight. 

Once in Monir, finding a replacement suit was harder than Beau had thought. All the vendors had marvelous suits for sale. There were more available than normal, as the Kings return likely prompted them to make fancier clothing for the festivities. Beau didn’t have much time between trying on suits to participate in the actives, but it seemed as though everyone was enjoying themselves. 

“What Tavern is popular currently?” Beau asked at his last vendor, already having purchased two suits. Currently, a seamstress was measuring him to create a custom suit; just in case he would attend a ball or event for the king where he would need something extra special. “I’d like to have a pleasant night here in Monir,” Beau continued. “Where do you recommend?” The seamstress told him of a tavern at the far side of the Square. A twinkle in her eye made Beau laugh, realizing he had not been as subtle as he hoped. Although primate matters of the sheets were taboo in many parts of Athoria, he found that as a charming young man, he was often neglected from there repercussions. 

With intrusions to come back in a week to pick up his finished suit, Beau left the shoppe. It was darkening enough in the sky that Beau decided he could head right to the tavern. His stomach felt empty after eating scarcely all day. He made his way through the square, and realized the festivities of the day had not ceased.

Someone from the crowd of people tried to pull him into a sort of dance, though he pulled away quickly. With a smile and a shake of his head, he stepped away from the crowd, deciding to only watch for now. There was a cluster of people, like him, watching the event from a seating area. Beau made his way to join them. He went to perch on the edge of a foundation, when a glint from the water caught his eye. A lonely copper coin was sitting at the bottom of the fountain, all alone. 

Before reaching into the fountain, Beau rolled up his sleeves to not ruin them. The water was strangely warm to the touch, while the coin was cold. He shook his hand and the coin off, bringing the coin close to his face to inspect it. It seemed just like a normal coin, so Beau decided to pocket it. It seemed good luck that on a shopping day, Beau would find some money. Perhaps it would be a new lucky token of his. 

When the festivities in the square started to die down, Beau got up from his spot on the fountain. He walked to the tavern, along the way absentmindedly playing with the coin in his pocket. Upon entering the tavern. he immediately walked to the bar, ordering a pint. Once served, he turned around, searching the crowd. He was in the mood for a girl with thick blonde hair tonight, a change in taste from the morning. 

[caden-atlas]

An Unexpected Spectator || Caden & Beau

[caden-atlas]

Caden felt Qarīn go up his pant leg as the traveler spoke. The man did have excellent sight, and likely excellent hearing if he had found Caden practicing. After all, Caden thought of himself as a quiet swordsman, one who didn’t need to speak in combat. He had enough skill to not need to rely on cheap tricks like taunts. Of course, Caine probably used taunts all the time. But he wasn’t Caine. And he wouldn’t stoop to Caine’s level, ever. 

"Well then, Beau. We can head back there now. I’ve trained enough for the day and there’s not much work for a mercenary in the late summer. People are starting to become more concerned with the harvest and my skills with a sword do not translate to farming well." Caden smiled at Beau. The name didn’t mean anything to him off the top of his head. Perhaps he really had ran into a clueless traveler. That would be a welcomed change of luck.

Walking them back to the cabin, Caden swore he felt a flush of good luck. By having someone else stay the night there, it would confirm something. Either Caden was indeed crazy and he was moving his own things at night (Beau would see it), or it was a supernatural threat (and Beau wouldn’t have seen it).

"Well, Beau, have you eaten yet? If you haven’t, I make a fantastic stew. Be warned, it will be stronger than anything you get at a tavern." Caden opened the door for them, letting the dying sun light the cabin as he walked to the fireplace. For a moment, he entertained the idea of using magic because it was quicker, but he was trying to keep a low profile. Especially with Brock around. He didn’t need any rumors about an Arab magic user getting around.

[beauxhadley-blog]

Beau analyzed the man he met as he went to collect his horse. It was clear that Caden did not know he was being watched. It was clear he didn’t want someone to watch and was startled when Beau appeared. It was also clear that the man was doing magic; of that, Beau was absolutely positive. He was in the pretense of magic. Rather than kill the man in cold blood, he decided to gather data. Perhaps the man would accidentally spill a secret or expose a plan of sorts. Beau was nothing if not a man who took advantages of opportunities. 

Beau shook his head. “Haven’t eaten anything in a few hours,” he said, grinning at the mention of food. “Stews are fine, I can deal with something stronger than tavern food any day.” He laughed. “You wouldn’t mind giving this horse some food as well,” Beau asked as they walked back to the mans house. “She’s worked rather hard for me this past week, she deserves carrots.” Beau said. He found starting small talk was also harder when he was trying to gather knowledge. He always wanted to jump right into probing questions, though it would seem inappropriate to others. 

The inside of the house was chillier than Beau expected, but Caden lit a fire quick enough. Beau could have sworn the man paused before doing so. He couldn’t help be disappointed that he didn’t get a personal magic show. It would have been further condemning evidence. Beau shrugged off his heavy jacket, figuring he would warm up with the fire blazing. He looked to Caden as to wear the jacket should go. 

“Nice place,” he said as he moved more into the house. “I didn’t realize there was land for people around these parts. In-between two cities seems isn’t a common choice these days,” he said, settling down on seating. “Well, actually…how far away is the nearest city? This place seems rather remote.”

[beauxhadley-blog]

Visiting the Jails || Brock & Beau || Closed

[bloodhawk-brock]

Brock hummed at the question, rolling thin lips over the other once before answering. His fingers moved along the edge of his glass and lifted his eyes to respectfully address Beau. “A dagger actually,” Brock answered, “I believe it to be linked to Heaven, could even be locked away in one of their vaults. Have you spoken to angels before Beau? They are glorious creatures. Soldiers, one sided in their way of thinking. Lacking that basis for free will that we over look and never cherish on because of the consequences that usually follow.”

He had most of everything else. The spell Brock had researched in the very libraries of Brailston, combining old ones, hints at others. It was all spread out a myth and legend in those books but they were exactly what he needed. “I have a witch in the basement. She is a pet. I know how you feel about magic in general Beau, but under my control it has proven to be more than effective. Her magic is bound with a blood ritual, and a drawn rune above her cage. She is but a little girl captured in a cage at that point.”

Brock had used her to help build the spell he needed to add binding magic to a weapon. When he approached the warlock who captured all those demons, and whose vengeance against Markus was so strong Brock instantly wanted to slither his way into the fray. The man used the spell, successfully binding magic within a basic dagger. He had taken advantage of the runes, and markings that had kept all those demons captured on that ship. Carving them open, hearing them scream as the holy water poured over the dagger and sucked on their very essence. They were disoriented, on the crux of begging to be released to hell. It was pathetic. All of them. But it proved one thing. That no normal dagger would work. But he wasn’t really ready to tell Beau all this. 

"I have learned that fae magic can be more dangerous to demons than some angelic. Even to the angels, magic can hurt their vessels and penetrate to their very grace. So I believe what we seeking is a way to bind both a holy weapon, and the essence of fae magic in the way of a binding spell. Those spells actually consume their essence, take it apart down to the very elements that make them. There is no existence after that, and with the holy, angelic weapon I believe that will be what will ultimately cut through the vessel and kill the demon inside for good."

 Brock though Beau’s idea of have multiple weapons made a good idea, but it was also risky. He knew how heaven was about their weapons, and the last thing he needed was to bring about the wrath of God on them. Though he knew the Bloodhawks were good people deep down, they were savage at the best of times. Its what made him love them so much. “Lets get the first one tested and made, and we can see. To be honest I am not even sure it will work. It’s all research and theory. And everything else has failed for the last thirty years. But, if works, I do think that would give us at least one more advantage against the supernatural world. And we all would look good with one.” Brock could look to be smiling about that thought, but it could have been a play on the dim flickering light.

[beauxhadley-blog]

“I’ve never met an angel before, now that I think about it.” Beau mused. “I presume you have, from the way you talk about them? Has my dear Brock found a new favorite species?” He teased, before going back to the matter at hand. “But a dagger connected to Heaven does sound like a powerful weapon. I’m just not too keen on the means to get a weapon of that caliber.” He paused before finishing his thought. “I don’t trust any supernaturals Brock, you know that. Not even your pets.” 

It wasn’t the fact that a witch was involved; it was a species he neither hated nor loathed, but just another species that needed to be eradicated. The idea of using magic and using a witch…was wrong to Beau. Fundamentally wrong, where even as Brock explained the use of the witch, it didn’t make Beau feel better. He would let Brock use the witch, as this was the mans plan, but he wouldn’t feel right doing so. If there was another way to make tis weapon without her aid, Brock would have came up with it, so Beau trusts that this is absolutely necessary for the success of the weapon. 

“A little girl trapped in a cage sounds harmless, I concur,” Beau finally says, after mulling the answer around in his head. He still wasn’t as fond of the idea as Brock was, but he would support his Bloodhawk family always, no matter what endeavor they were pursuing. If that meant getting down and dirty with magic to produce a dangerous weapon to kill demons…well, Beau could make an exception this once. 

“So, we will use witches and Fae? Brock…” Beau said, caught off guard. It was so far out of comfort zone to be okay with any type of magic, let alone multiple types at once. ‘Why do we need both types,’ he thought to himself. Brock ended up answering the silent question in the next second explaining how both types of magic are necessary. The reasoning was sound, the plan was good. “If the dagger cuts into the vessel to destroy the human, how would the vessel not be damaged?” Beau asked. “Humans can’t often heal from daggers wounds. Infections are just as bad as hitting a artery.”

Beau raised an eyebrow at Brocks humble words. The weapon that was all ‘just research’ would work; the man seldom made mistake in his studies. “The experience of the failed thirty years means this has the most potential for success, correct?” Beau questioned, knowing this was the point where Brock needed reassurance. “If this works, it could be more than just another advantage.” Beau laughed at the mental image of all the Bloodhawks with matching weapons. “Damn straight, we would all look amazing with one!”

[bloodhawkmicah]

Not So Sneaky || Micah & Beau || Closed

[bloodhawkmicah]

Micah decided not to argue anymore with Beau on the Leeds issue, even though he wanted to. He couldn’t go to Leeds unless he went alone. Bringing along another person would just make sneaking around and staying hidden that much more difficult, but he knew that now wasn’t the time to start another arguement, they’d had enough of that for one night. Besides, Micah’s eyelids were growing heavier the longer he laid against the muscular man, his body finally beginning to feel the effects of his exhaustion. He needed to sleep, and he wouldn’t fight himself on it anymore. 

The brunette closed his blue eyes lightly, cuddling closer to the man, shivering slightly. He appreciated the warmth of his frame, but still found himself grabbing a thin blanket and wrapping it around himself. “I’ll give you my loyalty, Beau. I promise.” he said, sleep slipping into his voice. In his tired state, he truly meant that statement. WIth Beau’s heart beating next to his ear, he could only imagine living to please the man, doing whatever he could to make him happy. It was a mindset Micah used to be stuck in constantly, but he hadn’t found himself in since he spent more time with supernaturals. Micah yawned, closing his eyes tighter. “Goodnight, Beau.” he said lightly, letting himself drift off to sleep. 

He hoped desperately that the nightmares that usually plagued his rest wouldn’t come tonight. It was one of the main reasons he never slept in the presence of a Bloodhawk. He didn’t want them to know the terrors he felt in his sleep. He didn’t want them to wake up to the sound of his screams and thrashing body. But he knew that that was exactly what would happen tonight. It always did, and he would be a fool to think that he would be spared from it tonight. 

[beauxhadley-blog]

Beau smiled to himself as Micah drifted off into sleep. He gently rolled out from under the smaller man and carefully picked him up not to disturb him. Just as carefully, Beau brought Micah into his bedroom and place the boy on the bed. Beau tucked Micah in as best he could without disturbing the boy. He lingered at the door, the room dim with just one candle lighting it. “Night Micah,” he whispered.

[beauxhadley-blog]

Generic Background Questionaire || Interview with a Bloodhawk

20 questions, answered in Beau's POV. 

This is only part 1; you've been warned

What about you is heroic?

I guess my passion for my family. I’ll protect them until I die, I really will. I don’t think thats heroic though, its whats necessary. 

What about you is social? What do you like about people?

I really like being around my friends, I like talking and being with them. Its the best feeling to be surrounded by people that you care for and that care about you. On the other hand, I hate being around people who have no real interest in me.

 What is your real, birth name? What name do you use? 

My birth name really is Beau and that’s what I go by. 

Do you have a nickname? What is it, and where did you get it?

Ronan used to call me ‘B’ when I was little because he couldn’t pronounce my full name correctly, and then my mother also started to use it.  No one else is allowed to call me that.

What do you look like? (Include height, weight, hair, eyes, skin, apparent age, and distinguishing features)

I have dark hair and light eyes. In the summer I can get pretty tan, but I also get very pale in the winter. I just got a new tattoo along my right ribs, and its one of a kind. 

How do you dress most of the time?

I have two vastly different styles; at home and outside. At home I dress comfortable; loose shirts, pants, and boots. Loose clothes help hide my weapons. Outside of the privacy of my home, I wear clothes that are in style. They are always high quality and professional.

How do you "dress up?”

I’ll wear whatever is considered ‘formal attire’ - most of the time, this means a beautiful suit. I often 'dress up' when going public places. 

How do you "dress down?”

Simple cotton shirts and simple pants.

What do you wear when you go to sleep?

Absolutely nothing

Do you wear any jewellery?

No I do not, unless my weapons count.

In your opinion, what is your best feature?

My arms, they are very strong and can do a lot of damage. A fair deal of women claim my eyes are quite beautiful though. 

Where do you live? Describe it.

I live in Chile Village. Its not a pleasant town, very boring, very dirty. 

Do you own a horse? Describe her/him

I do not own a horse, however I have always wanted to own one.

What is your most prized mundane possession? Why do you value it so much?

The knife my father gave to me when I was 10. 

What one word best describes you?

Loyal

What is your family like?

My family is fierce. Nell is strong and an amazing leader. All the Bloodhawks are unique and amazing. I'm blessed that they are my family. 

Who is your father, and what is he like?

My father was the smith, but he died when I was young. I can’t always remember what he was like, although I was in my teens when he died. 

Who is your mother, and what is she like?

My mothers name is Anastasia Hadley, and she has not been the same since Ronan died. She is silent, but a good cook. 

What is your parents marriage like? Were they married? Do they remain married?

They had a good marriage I believe. I don’t think it was overly romantic, it was most likely arranged for mutual benefit. They were lovely together though, and remained married until Father died.

What are your siblings names? What are they like?

Nell and Ronan Hadley. Nell is amazing. Ronan is dead. 

[beauxhadley-blog]

Favorite Knife || Headcanon

Beau never leaves the house without this knife. His father had made it himself, and it was one of a kind. Although one of Beau's simplest weapons, it is still his favorite. it is the only gift that his father gave him that is still in his possession. When Beau is feeling unproductive, he cleans and sharpens it. 

*credit to athoria inspiration blog*

[bloodhawkmicah]

Not So Sneaky || Micah & Beau

[bloodhawkmicah]

Now that the older Bloodhawk was done tending to Micah’s wounds, he reached to grab a shirt from his bag. It hurt to stretch out the shoulder but he didn’t mind that much. It was worth it for the shirt. Micah didn’t like being exposed and vulnerable like this, not in front of anyone. But certainly not in front of a still angry Bloodhawk. Micah pulled his shirt on lazily, his stomach rumbling loudly. “Sorry.” he whispered “I can’t make it shut up.” he chuckled, finding a comfortable spot on the sofa. Since his feet were freshly cleaned, he figured Beau wouldn’t mind if they touched the couch and he sprawled his legs out, laying his head against Beau’s shoulder. 

"I didn’t mean any of what I said earlier." Micah said after a long moment of silence, followed by a yawn. "And I know that behavior was uncalled for and childish. But the last comment was too far. And I knew it. " he shook his head "There was no excuse for the lie to come out of my mouth and I’m truly sorry for it." he looked up at him, his baby blue eyes gazing up, slightly scared that his father wouldn’t forgive him. 

"You gave me a new life. I should thank you. Try to repay the debt somehow. And from now on I will. I shouldn’t fight with you and Brock and the rest of the Bloodhawks. Family is supposed to protect each other, right? Not cause more problems. And besides….you probably know what  is best for me anyway." Micah yawned again, adjusting his position to make it better on his back, closing his eyes lightly. 

"I remember the man’s name who fought with me in Leeds. He was called Stephen Freeman. Father Freeman. He was very nice. He helped me after the fight a lot too. Instead of just walking away. He carried me to a safer place and tended to my wounds." Micah rubbed the remnants of the cut on his forearm. "Don’t get mad, but I’m probably going to go back to Leeds. There was just so much there that I could find out and bring back to you. I’ll work harder to protect myself, and I’m working on my fighting skills every day, but I need to go back. " 

He looked in Beau’s eyes again. “There are just some risks I am willing to take.”

[beauxhadley-blog]

Beau shuddered as Micah pulled on the new shirt; he could tell the shoulder wound was painful. He’s experienced his own shoulder troubles and knew they could be painful. “You should lie down and relax. I’m sure you are worn out.” Beau said gently, trying to keep Micah at this level of calm. He did not want Micah to protest against him again. 

Beau let out a laugh when Micah looked ashamed for being hungry. “This house does have food. My mother is an excellent cook, I can ask her to make something for you. Guarantee to make it shut up,” Beau offered with a smile. He knew his mother would be sitting in the rocking chair in her room, letting his eyes drift between this world and the next. She never talked much, but always managed to make delicious food. “I just won’t be your pillow for a few minutes, could you handle that?” Beau asked teasingly. 

Beau watched as Micah yawned and decided that Micah would be getting his room for the night. The guest room had a bed, but his own mattress was much better. Micah deserved a truly restful night of sleep, as the boy looked exhausted.  “I know you didn’t mean it, you were trying to hide your wounds. But those words are cruel Micah.” Beau said, trying not to get heated up again. “You have to realize things said in anger still hurt.” 

He took a careful breathe in and let in out low. “You don’t have to thank me with words for giving you this family. Thank me by giving us your loyalty. Thats all the thanks I need.” Beau shifted under Micah, so his arm was slung across the back of the sofa, as his arm had been falling asleep underneath the boys weight. This position also allowed Micah to better cuddle into him, but Beau would deny that was why he moved, if someone where to ask. “I may know what is best for you now, but eventually you will learn whats best for you. I believe that.”

“Father Freedman, I’ll keep his name in mind. Maybe one day he can be helpful.” Beau looked at Micah and smiled. “Thank you for remembering his name. You’ll learn, names are some of our most precious knowledge. Who’s good, who’s bad- names are powerful.” Beau raised an eyebrow when Micah said his wounds had been tended. “Well, I hope he was rushed, because your wounds did not look tended. Although I am grateful that he got you to safety.”

Beau’s eyebrows furrowed when Micah spoke about going back to Leeds. He sounded so determined and Beau knew he had already disobeyed him once, he could do it again. “If you feel it is necessary to go back, you may do so. You just can’t go alone, not at this point. Or, you wait until you are a better fight and it can be your first independent mission.” Beau smiled, knowing the first missions were always powerful memories. “Some risks are worth it, you have to decide if Leeds is one of them.”

[caden-atlas]

An Unexpected Spectator || Caden & Beau

[caden-atlas]

Caden saw the man hanging near the tree. A rider. He saw the knife in their hand. Caden took a deep breath. He had to stay calm. He wasn’t in danger, not yet. He didn’t have to worry. This was just someone who had probably heard Caden and investigated out of curiosity. They were only human. Caden didn’t have to worry. He wouldn’t let himself worry.

""Thank you. As for the magic, I’m afraid your vision must have been too obscured by the trees, traveler. After all, magic doesn’t exist."Caden glanced up at the sky, it was almost night. He looked back at the traveler. He wanted to keep an eye on the man, just in case he wasn’t dissuaded of the idea that Caden could do magic.

"It’s getting late and there are no inns nearby. I have some extra bedding you could borrow and a warm spot by a fireplace. My cabin is over that hill." Caden sheathed his sword, closing the distance between himself and the stranger then holding out a hand.

"My name is Caden. Yours, traveler?" Caden smiled as he held the hand out. He felt Qarīn scuttling as the spider left its perch on a tree stump and made his way over to the Warlock. Caden hoped that the stranger didn’t notice. Explaining a pet spider wasn’t exactly the easiest of tasks.

[beauxhadley-blog]

“I’ve always had perfect vision in the past, but…you’re right. Magic, not real.” Beau smiled, still wary. The man seemed too calm, said magic too carelessly. “Although some say that the most talented swordsman had magic in their blood. Helped them move faster than all other men.” Beau mused, keeping his knife in his hand, not ready to be vulnerable in the open. “Do you reckon that statement has any truth behind it?”

“It does seem rather late, doesn’t it?” Beau glanced at the sky and realized he had much more of his journey left. “Extra bedding sounds lovely, thank you very much.” Beau wasn’t sure how smart it was to follow a stranger to a cabin in the hills, but he had a few weapons with him. Brock and Nell knew he was traveling from Brailston to Chile. If he didn’t show up sooner or later, they would look for him.

“I’m…Beau, pleasure,” Beau said as he shook Cadens hand. There was a slight second of pause, as Beau wasn’t sure if he wanted to use his real name. Beau was not an uncommon name, nor particularly common- he wasn’t well known as a hunter, although he should be. Using his real name was safe, for now. “Will you be traveling back soon, or will you continue to train? I do not mean to interrupt.” 

[beauxhadley-blog]

Visiting the Jails || Brock & Beau

[bloodhawk-brock]

Brock rose from his seat to pace. It was a comfortable stance for the aged man who spent most of his between hours doing just this. The steady click of hard leather soles to the cobblestone floor was welcome in the space that once was so more. “I know you will,” Brock stated easily to Beau’s comment about revenge. “But this is far more than revenge for me, and the demons have no idea what we are planning. It has helped to keep our identities so closed off to the world to be honest.”

He sighed, grabbing his glass of wine to have something in his hand. Feeling that need to want to lay a creature on his table and carve open every single piece of their body until he understood what its use was for. “You know how I am, those contacts who think they are doing good in the world, or working for me have no clue to the extent of use they truly are being to us. They are blind, stupid, and a waste of my time nine times out of ten. But that one percent makes it worth it to have something go my way perfectly because they follow directions and if I am lucky. They take the fall in the end, no loose ends when I run the jails.”

Pale blue eyes darted up to his leader, and grinned at his comment about killing demons. “Yes, but not yet. Maybe not until my final day on Earth. I want this quiet until I can be sure I have everything in place. I need this Beau, I need this to be between us.” Brock rarely made demands so strongly to his leaders but he knew Beau would keep this close to him. Had to believe it. He took a long drink, and resumed his pacing. “I have a collection of supernaturals. It is exactly as it sounds. They have been with me for years, some pushing near twenty, others thirty years in my care. They are loyal to me, and I use them for my bidding, my research, and my planning of this project.”

Brock appreciated the Bloodhawks allowing each of them to work their hunting their own way. It made them stronger in the end, allowed them all to come together and collide with a multitude of ideas verses restricting them to ones of only their leaders. It was what made Nell and Beau perfect for this life. “I do not need your help yet, but I wanted you to know that I might call on you if I do. These creatures might be in need of meeting you. Until then, lets push aside this talk of demons, and talk about something more cheerful. We can have those conversations Beau right?” A smirk drew on his face then, “but if you have questions ask them now. I do not want to talk about it after today.”

[beauxhadley-blog]

Beau just kept nodding as Brock talked. The point of having the bloodhawks always keep a low profile was to stay out from the radar. Beau sometimes had doubts about how low profile they were truly being, so Brock confirmation felt reassuring. “They won’t find out about this, Brock. I swear.” This was world-changing work they were getting into, and Beau was now invested as much as Brock. He didn’t want the demons finding out anymore than him. 

“I promise, Brock, this stays between us. If you don’t want this to leave the room, it won’t.” Beau promised, sincerity in his every word. “But your contacts are good, good for us to use. They get blood on their hands, right? Not us. So we keep using them.” Beau always wanted to keep the blame off the bloodhawks whenever situations arised, so that none of them would ever be in danger. “You will remain the country’s jailer, have no worries of that.”

“Brock..how many days do you reckon you have left,” Beau asked, a few seconds later after the mans remark. “Because…well, don’t go shortening that amount because of this project. We’ll do this without endangering our lives, right?” He couldn’t bear the thought of Brock dying prematurely, although he knew rationally that Brock was too level-headed to do anything that would cause him an early death. 

It was exactly like Brock to have supernaturals to do his biding. Beau hated them, but the way Brock had them wrapped around his finger was inspirational. “Loyal as abominations could ever be, but if you have faith in their loyalty, I won’t question it.” Beau would never trust a supernatural, but he did trust Brock. “If you call on me, know you will have my full attention and focus. Whatever you need in this quest, I’ll help whatever way I can.”

“I have one question…what type of weapon do you want it to be? A sword, a knife?” Beau asked, picturing his own favorite weapons. “Something smaller, like an arrow tip, or something bigger…like an axe?” Beau smiled, his grin turning dark. “Or will it be multiple weapons, one for each Bloodhawk. How lovely that would be- we could have matching weapons like a real family.”

[beauxhadley-blog]

Anti-Possession Tattoo || Headcanon 

Beau's tattoo is a mix of a devils trap and beginning words of an exorcism. It works as a anti-possession tattoo, and protects Beau from being possessed from any demons. It also gives him a placebo affect of feeling like he falls under others influence less often.

*as of August 6, it is not fully healed and still somewhat painful.*

[bloodhawkmicah]

Not So Sneaky || Micah & Beau

[bloodhawkmicah]

He let Beau rub the ointment on his back as he cried, muffling the noises with his hands. He still couldn’t believe what had come over him earlier. Micah knew that his physical exhaustion and lack of nourishment combined with his low self image had to have something to do with  it. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of Beau, but look how far that had gotten him. Maybe that’s what Micah truly was. Weak. And maybe he could find a way to be okay with that. He could learn to run and hide, learn to be a scout and thief forever. Micah could do whatever it took to be what he needed to be. 

Micah looked at Beau when he was turned around. His instinct was to not answer the question. It was a depth of his emotions he didn’t like to dive into, but after what he’d just done to Beau, he knew he had to. He ran a hand through his long hair, uncovering his face for a moment before the brown strands returned to their place. “Father.” he said quietly. “I almost called you my father. ” he shook his head, looking down “It sounds pitiful. I know, but….I just….”

THe brunette dug through his mind to find the right words to explain his thinking. For the longest time he’d longed for father figures, and now they were popping up everywhere. Beau, Brock, Shiloh…they were all filling a void from his past. His adopted dad had done what he could, but he was old and frail and spent most of his time working. In the rare times Micah was actually in his house as a child, he didn’t get much of a chance to bond. He was afraid to admit to Beau or the other two that this was how he felt, but now seemed like as good of a time as ever. 

"I don’t know if you know this, but……my birth parents abandoned me when I was a baby. I don’t know why they did but they left me with this elderly couple in the slums. They practically ran an orphanage with all the abandoned children they picked up. My brother…Luke.." he hadn’t said his name since the time he died. It hurt on his tongue. "Luke and I got left there at the same time and we became like brothers until he….well, we just were. " he realized that he’d gotten off track, but the talk of wolves left the memories of his blonde brother in mind. He shook his head "Sorry. That’s not the point. This elderly couple. They were really nice and had all of these orphans but the man had to work constantly to try and give us as much as he possibly could. And when I was about eight I designated myself as the second provider of the house. That’s when I started stealing whatever I could to help my family. It went by unnoticed and my family hated thieves but I kept doing it because I could see that it was helping. But because of how busy we bother were, I never got to see my adoptive dad. And well…." 

Micah wiped his eyes ” I don’t know. I’m not making much sense. I’ve just always wanted a mentor like you and Brock and S-Nell” he stopped himself quickly, covering the mistake expertly with the tears in his voice. “It’s pitiful because I technically had a father but I still long for one. ” he looked away, wiping his face for a final time. “You’re kind of like what I imagined a father would be”

[beauxhadley-blog]

Micah’s sounds were painful to listen to. Beau had never been good with dealing with emotions, though he offered as much comfort as he could. But in this situation, he was torn betweens offering comfort to his family, or still being mad at him. What Micah had said was unacceptable, and if it was anyone outside the Bloodhawks, he would no have refrained from reacting worse. It was hard to stay angry someone who was shaking from their sobs though.

Beau had to reapply ointment on multiple places, as Micah’s sobbing had made Beaus hands miss their mark. The ointment had a minty smell that made Beau’s tongue tingle and he tried to keep it away from Micah’s mouth and nose. Mint never helps tears go away, except for mint tea. Finally, Beau was able to finish applying the ointment. He close the jar and wiped his hands on a cloth as to not ruin his clothes. He let Micah collect himself for sitting down for his answer. 

It was clear that answering the question wasn’t easy for him. Beau had a inkling of what Micah had been about to say, but didn’t want to presume. Before today, it would have been an honor for Micah to say he was a father figure. Today, with the insults hurled, Beau wasn’t sure how he would feel when Micah expressed himself. Micah was family, yet also insulted family the worst way possible. Beau was trying to wrap his mind around how to view Micah, now that concern for the boys health was at rest. Even in his anger, Micah should have known to never take it that far. Beau knew there had to be a reason Micah would push it that far; trying to hide his injuries was not enough to cut that deep.

Beau had never heard Micah open up like this, or at least not to him. Beau had always reloaded on the others to know what happened in Micahs personal life, as the boy seldom told him. The story of his brother- Beau knew his brother had gotten hurt…or killed, by a supernatural. Beau could read it as easy as he could read it on his own face. The pain, the hurt, the blame. It was familiar expression, one Beau say daily on his own face. 

“You’re making sense, Micah, its okay,” Beau said, urging him on. Beau didn’t want Micah to stop explaining if he was embarrassed he wasn’t making sense. He wanted to hear the full confession. When the confession came, it stole Beau’s breath away even though he knew it was coming. 

“It’s not pitiful to want a father,” Beau managed to get out. “I was lucky enough to have one for a period of time, and I still wish I had him.” Beau took a breath and tried to collect his thoughts. Even the admission from Micah wasn’t enough to cast aside the previous insult. It was a good starting point though; Beau could take the peace offering. “I can only speak for myself, but it’s very much an honor to be a father figure to you.”

[bloodhawkmicah]

Not So Sneaky || Micah & Beau

[bloodhawkmicah]

Micah knew the werewolf comment was too far. And yet he still couldn’t stop his mind from saying it. As the older Bloodhawk pulled out the knife Micah’s heart stopped. He knew how dangerous the other man could be with a weapon, and Micah had left his own defenses on the table in the sitting room, not thinking he’d have any use for his dagger or mace. He stammered, taking several steps back. He regretted his tactic. Micah wanted to take every untrue word he’d thrown out of his mouth back, but could he bring himself to apologize? A frail pale hand reached up in an attempt to guard against the knife, knowing it would be no use. “I said that you w-were no better than a wolf” he stammered, finally letting his timid blue eyes meet those of his mentor. 

He set his jaw to avoid breaking into hysterics from his fear, swallowing heavily. “And it wasn’t true. None of it was true. I…..I went to far. I messed something up seriously. I don’t… I don’t want to be kicked out, Beau. ” he took another step back, his hand finding a kitchen knife just in case he still had to defend himself. He pulled his eye’s from Beau’s, filled with shame. “You can see my injuries. Just…don’t get mad at me. And don’t….” it seemed pointless now to stress that he was worried about getting hurt. Micah shook his head, pulling his shirt off and turning to face away from Beau as most of the visual evidence was on his back. It was only now, however, that he realized his whole body was covered in bruises and cuts of various severities. He wiped his eyes now that he was facing away from Beau. 

"I’m sorry." he sniffed, leaning forward against the table "I just didn’t want you to see how hurt I am. Some warrior I am with all theses injuries. " he bent forward, placing his head in his hands as the tears fell quicker. Micah tried his hardest to stop them, but his breath just grew strained and haggard as he ran back into the sitting room, not wanting Beau to see him. "I’m sorry, Beau. " he shook his head "You’re right. You’re always right. I’m just a kid." he cried harder, ashamed at himself for his actions, even the ones Beau didn’t know about. Micah swung his right arm quickly, just to feel like burning pain in his shoulder in an attempt to bring him back to reality. He yelped, biting the knuckles of his other hand to keep from making a sound as he did this a second time, hoping the pain would steady him. 

Micah turned then, looking up into Beau’s eyes despite his current state “I’m sorry, fa-Beau. I’m sorry, sir. “

[beauxhadley-blog]

Beau snarled when Micah repeated the words; they hurt worse the second time they were said. It doesn’t matter that Micah’s behavior had completely changed when Beau pulled his knife. The prey obviously knew it was about to be hunted. It was a reaction any sane person would have had. Looking into the eyes of the boy that not even five minutes ago had he loved dearly, he felt nothing but anger. All he could think was Ronans ruined body with claw marks. The disgusting sound that werwolves made just before they died. “I’m no better than a wolf. A wolf!” He yelled. “Really? Because Werewolves take in young stupid boys off the street and give them a better life.” Beau turned away from Micah, not able to look at him. “If you think I’m anything like a werewolf, you can fucking leave.” He said, gripping the knife so hard it was digging into his skin.

Micah's words of protest kept coming, but Beau was hardly listening. He wanted nothing to do with this silly little boy that came into his house and thought he could insult him. To think he offered him tea and ointment. A new life. Forgiveness for purposely not listening to him. Only when Micah's voice became so desperate did Beau ever glance behind him. 

The sight shocked some of his anger right out of him. The bruises and cuts and injuries along Micah's body were immense. Beau tried to not feel sympathy for the boy, but it was still Micah. He was crying and Beau wanted to comfort him. But that wasn’t his place anymore. Micah decided to forfeit his kindness at those words. Beau was ready to turn away from Micah, but he heard the boy cry out in pain.

“Goddamnit,” he muttered under his breath. He released his grip on the knife, tucking it back into his belt. “Its okay Micah. I don’t understand why you said that, nor will I ever forgive you for saying that, but…” Beau breathed out harshly. “But its okay. I’m not gonna kick you out. I won’t hurt you, I just want to treat your injuries.”

Beau retrieved the tin of ointment from the shelf and scooped out copious amounts to lather on Micah's back. “This doesn’t make you less of a warrior, you know,” He said, as he soothed a bruise, “it just means you’re gonna to have battle scars. Nothing wrong with that.” Beau finished with his back and pushed his body around so they were facing each other. “When…when you were apologizing, you are going to call me something. What was it?” He asked. 

[bloodhawkmicah]

Not So Sneaky || Micah & Beau

[bloodhawkmicah]

Micah glared at Beau as he spoke about the injuries. He knew the elder man wasn’t buying that Micah wasn’t seriously injured, but he didn’t want him to look at them nevertheless. He didn’t want Beau to see his wounds or tend to them and, though he would never admit it, part of it was because he didn’t want them to hurt. Both Stephen and Brock had attempted to help him with some of the wounds, and done what they could, but that didn’t stop Micah from either re-injuring them or making them worse, like when he’d hurt his already injured shoulder trying to show off to Shiloh the other night. And since the young brunette didn’t want Beau seeing how much he’d really gotten himself into- especially since some of the injuries were from things he knew he shouldn’t have been doing and Beau didn’t know about, he knew he had to try his best to get Beau off his case. He decided the best way to do that, was to make the other man angry. 

Micah stood, slamming his hands down on the table, his hair moving to reveal the injuries on his face despite him knowing it. He nearly growled under his breath. “I’m fine, Beau. I don’t need your fucking ointment.” he grabbed the bottle from the other Bloodhawk, throwing it as hard as he could across the room. He blocked out what Beau was saying about him that was positive, not wanting his resolve to weaken by the gentle words. He knocked over his cup of tea, even though it hurt him to do so as it was the first thing he’d been able to consume for at least a week. He made sure that it spilled onto Beau’s crisp suit, before moving across the table and up close to the other man. He got right into his face, avoiding eye contact with the fear that his eyes would give away how he really felt. 

"And no. I don’t want to see my old family again. I don’t want them to see me. Ive become nothing but inhumane trash like you" he spat out the insult painfully, resisting the urge to take a step back from the man. Micah braced himself for a slap or some other form of hit, still glaring at the man without eye contact. Micah looked him over once before spitting onto his lapel "Scum in a nice suit" he came up with the insults on the spot, scrambling for them in his mind. "You’re no better than….than….than a werewolf" he stammered, holding his breath as he awaited a much feared explosion from the man for his unneccessary and insincere comments. 

[beauxhadley-blog]

Beau was expecting protests, but he was not expecting the rage the younger boy flew into. Anger was clearly painted onto the boys face and into every word he was saying. Beau couldn’t tell what was said in truth and what was said in anger. When Micah tossed the ointment, Beau was annoyed, but not angry yet. “Micah, calm down.” He ordered. “I’m trying to help you, goddamnit. I don’t want to hurt you, just don’t get a fucking infection.” Beau went to go pick up the ointment and put it back on the shelf. It was expensive and if Micah didn’t want it, another Bloodhawk would certainty need it. “You’re acting like a child over these injuries, which means they are so much worse than you’re claiming. I can only help you get better if you just tell me,” he pleaded. There was no change from the anger on Micahs face and Beau knew this was going to turn into a fight. 

He jumped back when Micah tossed the tea over. What a waste, a full cup of tea on his nice suit; neither tea nor suits were cheap in Chile and now both were wasted. “Micah, you’re acting like a child. Not like a  Bloodhawk. We can just talk,” he said again, as if he were patronizing a child. Beau had no idea why Micah was in such a rage, but was just trying to calm him down. Beau knew what it was like to lose his temper, so he was trying not to bait Micah. Whenever he was mad, if anyone told him to calm down he’d practically eat their face off. Beau waited a few seconds to see if Micah would relax or continue his mindless screaming. 

It was only when Micah started insulting him that Beau grew truly angry. Micah wasn’t doing this out of anger or out of worry for his injuries. He was now going this out of cruelty. Beau could handle being called scum; what he couldn’t handle were insults to his family. Being called inhuman trash was an insult that Beau could handle. “Micah, you better stop before you say something you can’t take back.” He said, his tone low and dangerous. “You’re coming dangerously close right now,” he warned again.

When Micah made the werewolves comment, Beau’s blood ran cold. He could pinpoint the exact second that Micah went from a family member to an enemy. “What. Did. You. Say.” He said slowly. His left hand reached around to the back of his belt where his knife was stashed. “Repeat that. What the fuck did you just say.” His angers narrowed and his mouth was a firm line. He faced off the young boy, standing up to his full height. “If you don’t explain yourself in 5 seconds, you can get the fuck out of this house.” He said, his voice brimming with anger. “And if you leave, you never are allowed back.”