My name is Taylor, and I am 22 years old. I stand a lanky 6'2" with shoulder length black hair; don't go thinking dyed goth black, or raven black or anything like that, think really dark brown. I have dark brown eyes, constantly surrounded by dark patches (side effect of the job); one of which is partially closed due to the puckered scar crossing from the top of my cheek bone through my eyebrow. I will never let a demon soaked flirtatious 19 year old catch me off guard again.
I live in a small studio in the Belltown district of Seattle. I have never been to school, never saw the need. I mean, really, what is the use of applied geometry when pyro-crazed untethered demon is ravaging the body of 12 year old girl who is about to go nuclear and meltdown a school? Sure, you could explain that the circumference of the blast is equal to 3.14159265 times 2 times the radius; but would that stop the blighter from going nova?
Valdrine taught me everything I need to survive. She is a great lady, and quite capable of taking care of herself; which is important if you are going to be around me. She also knew my mother, was friends with her, and so is the closest thing I have to a relative, aside from my brother that I hope to not meet.
I am a slayer by trade. My family has the unfortunate trait of being able to sense, see, feel, interact, and destroy demons in our reality. Seeing as how my mom gave her life to free me from being a gateway to this realm I am bound to continue her work. But do you know what its like to spend your life tracking, stalking, and then almost always killing people whose only mistake was having a soul a demon could meld with? I know what your thinking, can't you rid this world without killing the person? Well, if I could, don't you think I would? Do you think I enjoy destroying life after life?
When I was younger I tried to have friends. I gave up on it. You can only watch them get picked off so many times before you realize you killed them just by hanging out with them. And those who don't get killed wished they had. Which is worse. I have acquiantances that can take care of themselves, and if they can't well at least its not my fault.
Got enough to ask me some questions? Well go for it, but make it quick, you don't want to hang around me to long . . . think of it as standing around the flag pole during a lightning storm . . . only these lightning strikes shred your psyche and force you to destroy everything you love while you watch and scream from the inside but do nothing to stop it.
[This message has been edited by jasonbeauchene (edited December 22, 2008).]