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Hecate

"I'm a woman of many faces."

0 · 1,331 views · located in Supernatural America

a character in “Team Free Will; The 2nd Generation”, as played by LuckyNumber24

Description

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Name:
Hecate
Nicknames:
Heca, Kate, The Mother of Witches, the Witch Queen, the Maiden, The Mother, the Crone, the Hag, Three-Face, Triple-Bitch
Age:
Unknown
Sexuality:
Pansexual (But most likely not interested)
Hunter or Creature:
Pagan Goddess/ Witch

Abilities:
~Advanced Witchcraft/Magic~
~Advance Biokinesis~
~Advance Pyrokinesis~
~Advanced Telepathy & Telekinesis ~
~Average Shape Shifting~
~Average Teleportation~
~Immortality~
~Animal communication & control (mainly dogs)~
~Immunity to most human weapons~

~Hecate can separate herself into three separate forms with three distinct personalities; the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. The Maiden is a ditzy, fun loving face of Hecate with a habit of indulging in whatever she pleases with no thought of consequences. The Mother is a manager and a caretaker, taking special interest in the well being of others and handling troublesome situations in the most tactful way possible. The Crone is bitter and far more ruthless in the way she handles issues. She cares little for the opinions and needs of others and will do whatever she deems necessary for what she deems a worthy goal.~






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Likes:
+Magic
+Reading
+Survival
+Puck
+Collecting items
+Witches
+People she can trust
+Respect
+Soap Operas
+Dogs (especially puppies)
+Pagan Night Club
+Learning

Dislikes:
-Demons
-Some angels
-Most other pagan gods
-Being threatened
-Over aggressive hunters
-Crossroad demons
-Assholes (human or otherwise)
-Being underestimated
-Being lied to
-Physically fighting

Fears:
-Death-
-Archangels-
-Certain Hunters-
-High Level Demons-

Skills:
-She has an extensive knowledge of herbs and plants and brews some of the most potent potions, elixirs, and poisons in the world.
-Hecate is very skilled at negotiating and dealing with other's in general.
-Banishing and creating magical wards are specialties of hers.
-Hecate has a talent for playing for both sides in a conflict and manages to stay neutral in even the most difficult situations. Because of this, she is on relatively good terms with many groups and can freely travel between Heaven, Hell, Earth, and other worlds to her liking.
-She has an impressive overall knowledge and understanding of the supernatural world-

Deficits:
-High level angels and demons are capable of killing her-
-She can be killed instantly if she is stabbed in the heart three times with a cypress stake covered in the blood of a witch-
-Not extremely skilled with hand to hand fighting-
-Attempts to stay neutral despite what it may cost-
-Often overcautious-
-Overthinks everything-
-Has trouble improvising-

Distinguishing Marks:
-Hecate has three faces, but two of them are typically invisible to the naked eye. They can vaguely be seen in reflections, photographs, and videos. In moments where she loses control of her emotions or experiences extreme pain, they can also seen. In moments like these, she can also be heard having three voices.-






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Personality:
Calm and collected, the Queen of Witches is never one to panic in the face of adversity. She keeps her emotions in check, only allowing them to peep through when needed and only speaks when she has had time to think first. This tranquil demeanor often sets her apart from the other pagan gods, as does her trait of humility. Hecate is always the first to admit her flaws and weaknesses and embrace them, for she has seen where an inflated sense of self-worth has led many deities before her. To make up for her weaknesses, she calculates and strategizes, preferring to enter a situation with all the possible knowledge she can gather and only making moves when necessary. She is described as a low-key goddess, only taking sides in "petty" conflicts when it's absolutely necessary. She has often been called a control freak by her fellow pagans. She's also known to be quite ruthless when the situation calls for it and most of the supernatural world knows to tread lightly around her. She is possessive of the things she has and will not stand for another disrespecting them.

The goddesses can be a bit antisocial, with little luck with love and very few people she can genuinely called friends. It is often joked that she hold books above all other things, but in her heart she knows that's not true. Hecate has a love and respect for all life, but has trouble communicating those feelings with words. She prefers to do it with her magic, bringing times of prosperity to those who deserve it and teaching her craft to the few witches she knows will not abuse their power. Recently, she has started trying to be more outgoing and appear less "creepy" to others. She tries to bring out the good in each of her sides; the free-spirited nature of the Maiden, the loving and warm demeanor of the Mother, and the wisdom and cunning of the Crone.

History:
Hecate has never really been concerned with the business of others. During the ages where pagan gods ruled the earth, she stayed in her realm and read, refusing to partake in the many petty conflicts between her peers. She stayed on the edge of Greek religion, largely receiving worship from witches and spellcasters rather than the average person. She appealed to the weak and alone, for she offered then the opportunity of power in the form of magic. Hecate was one of the first to start teaching humans witch craft, much to the displeasure of the other gods. However, they would always forget and run off into another war or torrid affair, leaving Hecate to do whatever she pleased. When she wasn't reading or practicing her craft, she typically hung around crossroads and in-betweens, where her followers would leave offerings and hold rituals in her honor.

After the fall of the pagans and the rise of a new god, not much of Hecate's life changed. Because many of those who once pledged allegiance to the old gods converted and those who stayed loyal to them were executed by the church, many of the gods lost the once divine power that they had. Hecate, however, had been used to living with few followers and her powers did not so heavily draw on worship. She became an emissary to all gods and beings that came to her and she was respected by all the supernatural community. Over the years, she managed to stay out of the ongoing war between Heaven and Hell, just as she once avoided the battles between the Titans and the Gods. She managed, through diplomatic skills and straight out lies, to stay on relatively stable ground between both the Heavenly Host and their demonic counterparts.

Recently, Hecate has been expanding her horizons. She opened a night club, cleverly named Pagan, and runs a number of different businesses from inside of it. She offers a number of services, from spells and potions and fortune readings, to exotic ingredients and advice. She even gives council to hunters, who often come to her seeking information on various beings and magic. Though she still attempts to stay neutral, tensions are rising and the goddess is fighting the forces of Hell to keep her territories, she fears that she may have to take a stance and fight.

Other:
Hecate owns three familiars. Though they are considered relative of hell hounds, they are not strong, but more resilient to magic:
Alexander
Hekabe
Thanatos





[center]Theme Song:

Coming soon...

[url=LINK]Title || Artist[/url]

Lyrics here

So begins...

Hecate's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Heka Character Portrait: Claire Novak Character Portrait: Michael Bryant Character Portrait: Booker Thompson Character Portrait: Zad O'Connor Character Portrait: Hecate
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This was the moment that defined Supernatural as a story. Because this parable was just supposed to be a simple narrative about two little boys who had grown up in the backseat of an old muscle car being steered down an open freeway by a soldier in the front. Two boys who had learnt how to kill monsters and demons, day by day, working to avenge their mother. The tough, brawny big brother and the smart, more introverted little brother who had run away to make a life for his own. It was supposed to be a heroic tale about winning and beating what was in the dark. But if Sam and Dean Winchester knew anything, it was that everything it was supposed to be remained only as “supposed to be”.

It became story about love, loss, and desperation. A story filled with dust and grime, shrieking guitar solos and revving engines, the cocking back of pistols and the twinkling of black eyes, blood and banter and brothers whose bond ran deeper than anything. It was about how they both drew from a deep well of pain that was constant and agonizing, that it was something that felt as natural as breathing. It was about how the light in Dean’s eyes died as he grew older. It was about every time Sam had suffered needlessly, every time he had failed and every time he had gotten back up. It was about how two brothers turned the world, heaven and hell, against them and about how they loved each other enough to sacrifice humanity five times over and still managed to save it's sorry ass. It was about the way they sang in their ‘67 impala at the top of their lungs. It was about the times they cried and opened up to one another. It was about driving down that tired road at 2am, a classic rock obsession, and the feel of one another’s shoulder blades against their own, pistols out, surrounded by monsters. It was hope and family and how that could include a 'winged tax collector' in a trenchcoat, and a bearded old drunk who had put his own spin on “idiots”.

In that moment it was family that had left, and family that had been brought together again. Two brothers crashing to the ground, one defiant against the darkness in and around him and one loyal to a fault with the faith of two.


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"Dad’s on a hunting
trip, and he hasn’t been
home in a few days."



Now their time is over and done, page turned, and a new generation is supposed to lead the next chapter...but remember this, things never quite turn out quite how they are "supposed to be."

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hecate
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In the light of day, Pagan was a lifeless husk of the supernatural force it was under the cover of night. Blaring music, dancing strobe lights, and young bodies glistening with sweat breathed life into the place, as did the fully stocked bar that magically refilled itself at the end of every night. Here, young beings of all walks of life would come and forget about the world. They'd forget about the demons and angels and hunters that plagued their lives outside the limits of the club. They'd forget about what their own lineage or afflictions forced them to do whether it was feeding or killing. Here they could freely dance and drink and mingle, just as the humans did and forget about everything for a few short hours.

Presently, Hecate wished dearly she could forget about everything. But here she was with two crossroad demons sitting in front of her desk making their usual out of place demands. "It's a good deal." said the one wearing a beautiful supermodel type. Her legs were crossed and her solid eyes seemed to stare the goddess down. The other wore a large muscle bound man, handsome but intimidating. Or he would have been intimidating if Hecate couldn't turn him into a corgi with a wave of her hand. "Our superiors would be very upset if you refused to give them an answer for a fourth time." His voice was ridiculously deep, as if he were playing the comically grotesque villain in a children's cartoon.

Hecate rolled her eyes. "Well, I certainly would hate to hurt their feelings." She was silent for a moment, taking time to think through her plan of attack. Intimidation seemed like a valid route to travel down. "I want to discuss conditions directly with them." Her voice was stern, the dry rasp of the Crone sneaking into her voice like a wisp of smoke. The supermodel shook her head, blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders. "There are no conditions to discuss. You'll allow us to make our deals in this club and you'll be allowed to live in peace." Hostility flashed in Hecate's eyes. "Are you threatening me?" "No." said the man. "Meredith is promising that you'll be able to run this establishment, which is located on a crossroad by the way, without interference if you agree to our bosses' deal."

The goddess narrowed her eyes, her core beginning to slightly tremble with anger. "Are you suggesting that you own this club in some way because it's built at a crossroad?" The man smirked. "We're called crossroad demons. It's sort of in the name." The witch queen slowly raised her hand, calmly staring the demon in his eyes. As she snapped her fingers, his head twisted around, snapping his neck. His host's body slumped to the floor as Hecate stood up. "I was Queen of the Crossroads long before there was any demons around to lay claim to them." she seethed through gritted teeth. The supermodel attempted to stand up, but the deity glanced at her and an invisible force sent her back into the chair.

"Tell your superiors that I will discuss this bullshit of a deal with them. But, if they send one more red-eyed amateur with a smart mouth and inflated sense of self worth in their place, I'll carve a Devil's Trap onto an iron rod and shove it so far up their asses that it'll get caught in their throat. Understand?" Meredith nodded slilently, fear showing very clearly in her crimson eyes. Hecate took a breath and composed herself, taking a moment to fix her hair. "Now, that got more violent than I intended, but I hope you got the idea, Dear." She cracked her knuckles and glanced at the remaining demon. "You're free to go."

After Meredith left, Hecate breathed a sigh of relief and ran her fingers through her hair. Hopefully the intimidation route was successful. She looked at the body on her floor and shook her hair. Such a waste. She reached over to the telephone on her desk and pressed a button. "Hello, Louis? Could you be a doll and come get a body for me? We could drain it for the Bloody Mary Special on Friday." She paused to listen. "Thank you, Dear. Say hello to your Aunt Judy for me." She hung up before calling another number. "Jezebel? Send Puck to my office. I need him to contact an old friend of mine."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Heka Character Portrait: Claire Novak Character Portrait: Jesse Turner Character Portrait: Zad O'Connor Character Portrait: Hecate
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He hadn’t realized what he had said until he had said it. He had named her. All this time, he hadn’t given the witch a name, leaving it a mystery, leaving it to be undiscovered, but now he named her, now he gave the amorphous presence a name, and it was Hecate. While it was true that Hecate and Heka had a steamy background, it was centuries ago, and their relationship ended in a very interesting way, depending on who you ask of course. He sat there realizing only too late that he had nearly divulged too much information and had to figure out a way to do damage control. He took notice of Zad’s whispering as he replied to his question on the identity of the one known as Claire Novak. She wasn’t famous as in celebrity, it was only the fact that most hunters knew one another and last he had heard she was indeed a hunter. He would find more of them here, as this was a hunter friendly “pit stop” so to speak. A place where hunters could come after a good hunt, eat, and hopefully relax until duty called once again. While it was true that Zad was an interesting character, Heka had never really had any “close” friends in the hunters. He tried here and there, but everyone he became “close” to end up dying, or worse turning into what they hunted.

Still, Heka couldn’t make it seem as if he were worried. In an attempt to cover himself, he simply smiled and listened to Zad as he began to discuss Heka’s reason for bothering him. Well, it wasn’t bothering, more like a friendly unauthorized visit from a fellow hunter. At least that’s how Heka looked at it. With a sigh, he shook his head as if he were contemplating on what to say next.

“It’s true, you aren’t much company, BUT,” he said near a yell as he held up a pointer finger, “I have just the thing to liven you up a bit pretty boy. It’s called fashion and swag.” Heka jumped to his feet like a happy school girl getting ready to perform a cheer and put one arm across his midsection and the other arm was held in place as his pointer finger tapped his chin.

“Let’s see, a definite change of wardrobe would do wonders for you Zad,” Heka stated with a smile, “aaaaand a good ol’ fashioned personality lift will make it an all-around complete look. By the way I could definitely do your hair and give you more appeal. What do you say?”

Heka tried hard not to laugh. He was holding his lips closed as he waited for Zad to answer. All the while he was wondering if Claire had noticed his little show. He was aware of others in the roadhouse, others would watch them. He was always privy to information, thanks to his status in the hierarchy or rather the pantheon of deities, but if they found out he was a deity, if they ever found out, what would they do to him? Or at least try to do to him because he’d be damned if he let anyone just walk up and kill him. Maybe times were changing and they’d welcome him among their ranks. After all, he had been a part of the hunters for some time now and had fully settled himself in, but there were always those who would remain trapped in the ages, unaware of how blissfully ignorant they were. One of the many reasons Heka turned his back on his so called brethren. A story for another time perhaps. His eyes drifted over to Jesse, but only for a quick second before settling back on Zad.


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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Heka Character Portrait: Claire Novak Character Portrait: Zad O'Connor Character Portrait: Hecate
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The white slivers of the morning sun cut across the dim planes of the ceiling and the floor, peaking out from behind a thick drawn shade to leave long yellow prison bars over the tired patrons faces. There was a shaft of that dirty sunlight, eat up with dust motes, that fell across Zad's back; creating a halo of gold tucked safely within the wild curls of his blonde hair. All he was missing was a pair of wings...

The roadhouse had hardly any windows to speak of, and the few existing had those shades drawn over the glass to block out the light. Most bars did because they catered to drunks with hang overs who loved the midnight feel even if it was nine in the morning. They were nocturnal beasts that chased their nightmares away with shots of bourbon and strings of sleazy one night stands. Zad was one of few hunters and drunks though that did not appreciate this. The bourbon and hookers, sure, but not the dark. He was a child of the sun, and the feel of warmth on his skin always stole happiness into his heart. Perhaps it was an angel thing, or maybe it was just an inherently Zadkiel thing but either way, it wasn't like he'd of known. No less than a half hour ago, he was all too happy to have stepped in the dark cool respite that was this road side attraction for the supernaturally knowledgeable, but just as the tiny blue threads in his wrists twisted in him all the way to his chest and made his disobedient heart pound when he heard the possibility of joining yet another unspecified hunt with others, he also yearned to step back outside into the light.

Image"You pitiful? I would never dream of insinuating such a thing." He laughed. The sound hearty, low in his belly and clear in his throat like a large heavy bell being rung. "There's a fire in you, I can see it. You probably pack as much punch as a case of C-40." He winked at her with one of his startlingly blue eyes. "Let me also say, just like Tony, you've got my full attention. If you need a ride somewhere's...well we both came here on foot but I'm wicked fast with a hotwire. We could find something if you had it in mind to take on a partner or two for your next gig...not that you'd need to or anything." He shot the last splash of his beer like it were a race and then slammed the brown bottle down on the table. "I've heard of something...a club not too far from here if you can imagine that, that is a demon hotspot. Don't know much more than that but if you're both interested...we could check it out together...?" He let the rest of his sentence trail off into a question, a hopeful air hanging in his voice.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Heka Character Portrait: Claire Novak Character Portrait: Zad O'Connor Character Portrait: Hecate
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Claire Novak








As Claire spoke she glanced at the two men, noting the way Tony held his cup of coffee and seemed to stare a hole right through her; this in itself made rather self-conscious, having her hands in her lap once she discarded her fork, twisting at her fingers nervously out of habit. She also noticed the way one single strand of sunlight out of all the others managed to fight its way across the roadhouse, fall along Zad’s back, and nestle into his hair. For a moment Claire just stared, looking as if she was peering right over his head at something. The light and the way it danced along his head reminded her of something. But what? The first thing that snuck its way into Claire Novak’s mind was “angel,” the thought causing her nose to want to crinkle in distaste. Besides being a clichĂ© thing to think, angels were also not her favorite being in existence. Actually, she quite despised them with a burning passion. “Daddy issues” wasn’t even the half of it.

When Tony began talking Claire smiled, nodding as he spoke back to her pretty much what she said, only in a shortened summary form. As he mentioned her there looking for a hunter to “tag along with her” she arched an eyebrow, shrugging her shoulders at this. Company was always welcomed but she didn’t want to seem like someone desperately in need of help; she was never one to play the damsel in distress. At the question of “what’s your next move” Claire seemed to pause, pressing her lips into a straight line as she glanced towards the ceiling momentarily, as if she was thinking hard. She was supposed to have a next move? Jeez, it was lucky enough that she stumbled across this roadhouse. What move was there to make? She didn’t have another hunt whipped up just yet. “Well, I suppose I should find someone to tow my-“ Novak trailed off when Zad started talking, blue gaze flickering to him.


"You pitiful? I would never dream of insinuating such a thing." Claire flashed a dimpled grin at this comment, tilting her head to the left slightly when he laughed. What was it about laughter? Really. For as long as she could remember she just really enjoyed it, the sound and such. Especially those loud, deep-belly laughs that made your stomach ache from the force behind them. At Zad’s next words Claire giggled, which was a very non-Claire thing to do, causing her reign the laugh in quickly, covering it with clearing her throat. “Oh you know it, quite a punch.” She promised, winking back at him jokingly. She then listened as he went on talking, resting her right elbow on the table, her chin in her hand. The thought of having a couple partners on her next hunt piqued her interest, to say the least. She sat up a little straighter, eyes glinting with curiosity.


At the mention of a club Claire slapped both her hands down on the table gently. “How could I say no?” She teased, gaze travelling to Tony then back to Zad. She didn’t know why a bunch of demons would be hanging around a club in the morning, but hey, it was something to do, and she was always down for a good hunt. “I say we go check it out.” She added, going to stand up. She then realized all her stuff was back in her car. Claire fell back in her chair, huffing. “All my things are back at my car, though.” She grumbled, the thought knocking the wind from her sails.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Heka Character Portrait: Claire Novak Character Portrait: Zad O'Connor Character Portrait: Hecate
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If he could’ve guessed, he wouldn’t have guessed Claire to be the damsel in distress type. She struck him as more of a tom boy with beautiful eyes and flowing hair. She seemed to be someone he could hang with, get to know on a more personal level, and become friends with. Then again she would die of old age and the thought did sadden him. Hell the only way she wouldn’t die of old age is if she became a vampire. That ceremony in itself was very odd and gruesome so he’d heard. Interesting how movies portrayed such beings as bloodsucking maniacs driven by their thirst for human blood as if they themselves weren’t human before. The Supernatural was an odd thing, an odd thing indeed, and depending on whom you asked, things were always different. The best way to know what someone’s intentions were was to use what gifts one had, and if you were gifted then you were shit out of luck. Thankfully Heka was gifted with telepathy among other things, and his longevity had allowed him to master such gifts. What this meant was that Zad and Claire as well as everyone in the diner were like open books just begging to be read.

“The minds of mortals are simple, yet complex, and if I slip in unnoticed I cannot terry long,” he thought as he looked at Claire and then at Zad. ”What are you two thinking?”

Anthony took note of the light that seemed to find Zad and pinpoint him to bask in its warmth. For a moment Anthony thought he saw a halo, but could Zad be an angel? He was absolutely hitting on the handsome scale, and would make a rather charming angel, but Anthony dismissed the thought with a slight laugh after sipping more coffee and listening to the conversation at hand. Zad was talking, but how long had he been talking? Anthony really needed to stop zoning out when people were talking; it was a very bad habit and had gotten him into trouble several times. Still, he was pretty sure he knew what Zad was talking about. The last bit he heard was something about a club and that they could go there.

“Demons you say? Together you say? Well now’s the chance to prove your manliness Zad,” Anthony joked as he finished off his coffee rather elegantly and placed the cup on the table, “I am definitely in, it sounds like fun.”

He hadn’t been hunting in a while, instead watching the others hunt on his orb, now it was his chance to flex his muscles, but there was something off putting about this mission. Who ran this club and why was it an obvious demon hangout? These were questions Anthony would get answered one way or the other. “Oh and Claire it’s no problem, I got contacts everywhere, I can shoot one of them a call and have them drop off a car to get your gear if you want.”

Before she could object, his fingers were already dialing a number. It wasn’t a long conversation at all, a brief exchange of “hello” followed by the predictable follow up greeting of “how are you” or “how’ve you been,” and then the questions started coming and all Zad and Claire would hear would be a simple “Uh huh” or “uh uh” from Anthony, but after he finished his conversation, he ended the call and looked at Zad and Claire, “10 minutes sound cool to you?”

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