WILDER, PHOENIX KESTREL

[PHOENIX KESTREL WILDER]

phoenix k. wilder
twenty. weapon. hayley williams.

" the powers. " powers? powers are a bitch. they're completely fucking overrated, and not worth the trouble they cause -- well, for me, anyway. i'm mostly what people refer to as a weapon. ever heard of animal mimicry? i've got something like that. it means that i can, well, mimic animal abilities. i can't turn into a tiger, but i can spout fangs and claws and be really agile. i can't turn into a panther, but i can become as lithe and silent as one. i can't turn into a bird and fly -- well, i can take on wings, but i can never fly -- but i can have the sight of a hawk or an owl. things like that. small things. i've been working, though -- and i can pull off a pretty convincing tiger. i can look more and more like a certain animal if i've worked at it, and i've been working at two of them -- the siberian tiger (which everybody thinks is a bengal tiger, but no! it's not! i'm so much bigger than a fucking bengal!) and the maned wolf, which is my favorite animal. but other than those two, my appearance doesn't necessarily alter... but it definitely distorts enough for me to look inhuman. it's something i've considered. am i a normal human being? i don't know. as for my power? i've -- i've always had it. grew up a fucking freak. had to move all over northern ireland because of it the first thirteen years of my life. i still can't fully control it, because it's just the nature of the beast. for lack of a better term. what i can do, though, is use it. and yeah, i guess i've misused it intentionally before. there was this one time when i was enrolled in high school over here in america. it was almost halfway through the year, and there's this bitch joy who sits in front of me in nearly every class. anyway, she hated me. i guess it was my hair? point is, she thought she was so much better than me and flipped her fried blonde hair in my face all the time. so one day, she thought it would be funny to trip me after the bell rang and class ended, so i waited for her to walk out of the classroom. she was flirting with the teacher or something, because she was the last one out, and i walked up behind her. i said, 'hey joy?' and she turned and stopped. the look on her face was hilarious, but mine was as innocent as it could possibly be, and she asked what i wanted, but by that time, i had gotten close enough. i pounced, shoving her against the locker, and and told her as sweetly as possible to never fuck with me, ever again. and she didn't. i guess it had something to do with the fact that my hands were remarkably similar to claws and i was flashing some wicked fangs, but either way, she nearly shit herself and acted completely different around me for the rest of my high school career. when i had to tell her to pass back the tests or a worksheet, she always watched my mouth, and it was one of the most amusing things i've ever seen still to this day. for the most part, though, i've kept my secret. the most.... the most my ole man knew about it was that i just had rage issues. well, up until the end... i don't like to tell people about it, though, and even though most of the people i've met here are supe, i don't like revealing what exactly put me here. but i've been here for nearly three years now. i like it here. i have a life. i can feel normal around other people like me. but i still can't lose control... not like i did. never again. "

the childhood. " i'm only saying this once, yeah? it's a life i'd like to leave behind me. i've been here for a while and you guys won't stop pestering me for something about records, so here it goes. i was born in belfast. if you couldn't tell by my accent. most people in america can't distinguish the irish dialects, though-- anyway. i lived all over ireland as a kid. mostly because when me mum died, the old man and i couldn't ever stay in one place. nowhere felt like home -- well that, and i kept getting in trouble. i'd always be on the hop -- sorry, uh, skipping school -- or else i'd have a go at some damned caffler who set me off because they wanted to pick on the short kid and seem tough. even as a kid, i was dangerous when i was angry. in primary school i was fighting with some asshole for some reason (even today, it's extremely easy to get me riled up to fight) and i don't know what happened, but the scratches i left on her body were not normal. i didn't have many friends after that, and then we moved. it was the same pattern all the way until i was thirteen -- we'd move, i'd bide my time until someone provoked me, then i did something bad and we'd have to move again. it wasn't my fault; when i was littler, everything was harder to control. if you have a kid and they've bitten someone when they didn't get their way, you know how children act. and that was me; i just had actual fangs at the time of the biting, more often than not.

the event. " anyway. when i was thirteen, my hormones started to go crazy, and as a result, so did my... animalistic nature. i didn't have any control at all over it, and i will never forgive myself, as long as i live, for what happened that night. i don't remember much of what happened or what caused it, but i was fighting with my dad about why we moved so much. i called him a coward, i said awful things. i was mean and hateful, and i completely lost control. what i was saying wasn't me. i was really angry at him, but i would never have blamed him for mum's death like i did. it wasn't his fault. it was the cancer. he couldn't have done anything -- anything to stop it. but i should have known better, i should have kept my mouth shut, because i knew it tore him up every night. but i just couldn't shut up -- and i don't know how it happened, but he was yelling back, and he pushed me, and i lost control completely. i blacked out, and when i came to, it had looked like something had just mauled my dad. but i knew better. i knew what i had done, and if his death hadn't been ruled an animal attack, i would have both been found out and incarcerated -- hell, i would probably be in some irish science lab right now.

the teen years. " after that night, i moved. i went to stay with my mom's sister, seeing as my dad didn't have any family left. she lived in san francisco, california. she didn't have a clue what i was, because i quickly separated myself from everyone i possibly could, even her. she told me she understood, that's what happens after... after that. and that i didn't have to see a therapist if i didn't want to, and all i would have to do was go to a small school and stay out of trouble. and i did, up until graduation. i had kept away from most everybody, except this one boy. his name was colton, and he was nice as can be to me. he seemed to have a bad rep at the school, but then again, people asked me all sorts of crazy things about what i did or didn't do not even two weeks after i started there, and in smaller schools, rumours spread like wildfire. anyway, colton was about the only person who was unafraid to approach me, and he's pretty much always been there for me. anyway, after graduation, he somehow convinced me to go to a party someone was throwing at their house. and i went. it was so much fun -- right up until the part where colton dragged me into a corner and told me that we needed to talk. i said sure, and so we went into the empty hallway in the guest wing. he told me that he... he had feelings for me. and i didn't know how to react. i was freaking out, actually, like most girls do the first time a guy shows any kind of that interest in you. and for me, it was a tidal wave of emotion and new information. i was completely stunned, and when he kissed me, i did what felt right: i let instict take ahold of me.

" it was a sensory overload. i had never been kissed before, i had certainly never kissed anyone before, and we were both a couple of hormonal teenagers. so letting instinct do its thing was about the worst idea i could have possibly had. anyway, nothing happened. something almost did -- we were so close, because i certainly was in no state of mind to stop -- but the party was busted and we both had to get out of there. he had to shake me, actually shake me, to get me to stop, and i still wasn't completely back in control at that point. but that was the last night i was ever in san francisco and, consequently, the last time i would ever see my only friend. the cops busted lots of people, but colton and the majority got away. i was trying to head outside, still holding my shoes and still forcing myself to get under control and not to run and find colton and finish what we had started, when one of them saw me and grabbed me. it was clear under the flashlights what i had distorted into, and i actually injured the cop with my claws. i got away, but a girl with bright orange hair doesn't get too far. the next morning, the cop turned up at my door. i didn't know why and i was scared as shit, but she explained to me that... i was special? and there were, um, other special people like me in this place called west harwich. and i could be safe there, because if she hadn't met her supernatural husband there and known about the community or the... special world in general, i would not be walking around right now.

the present. " so that's just what i did. i took her advice, and that very day, i was on a plane to massachusetts. i didn't stop, i didn't look back, and now it's three years later and i still think about colton more than i should and i have to stop myself from picking up the phone, because it's better this way. i mean, i know i have to hide here, still, but at least there are others. at least i don't have to be alone. "

maddie. god like nine years pm. sixteen. love me