“Papa.. Will I see you again?”
“Always ma’cheri. Always”
Raised by her father and uncles, close knit into a family community in the Bayou, Hayden was the only one of her generation in the family that was female. Thus, expected that she would take the mantle of priestess from her maman.
Steeped in ancient lore, bastardized by media, the voodoo roots ran deep over generation after generation. Hayden was born in Hougan’s Bayou in Louisiana, but many of her years of youth were spent in Port au’ Prince, Haiti as well. Her father was Haitian, her mother was unknown, and never much discussed by her family.
When Hayden was eight, she was already playing with small childish rituals, speaking to spirits, that many assumed were invisible friends. Yet, it was unexpected when her father took her to ritual before her maman, who knelt her down and stroked her dark hair. A preccocious child, but typical with caramel skin, dark hair and eyes. She was held, the brands of the veve laid to her wrists, bringing pain never known before. Then the knife, the sacrifice she was on behalf of her father, a debt to the loa paid.
Her first voyage into the spirit plane was frightening, a scared child in a scary place, yet it was Baron Samedi that approached with Maman Brigette. Her grave was refused to be dug by the loa, instead, touching her brands, soothing the ache, taking it from her. His words, clear and accented as he spoke from behind the painted skull. She was bound to him, He owned her soul.
As she returned by the Baron’s demand, taking a breath as the wound of her demise healed, she saw first her father, stunned as he was. Her hair was silver, as were her eyes, touched by the loa and graced, escaping death with a blessing.
Years pass, and she finds her trouble, many times in Juvenile homes, and soon prison for theft of auto and other items over state lines. It was in Federal Prison that she comitted manslaughter, deemed as such as the victim was an uniformed guard. No one wanted to listen to the colored inmate in solitary about how the guard used and abused her until she could no longer handle it, to where she had to fight back.
Released once she turned twenty one, on parole, she lingered in Louisiana until she got word that her father passed while in prison. She felt the push, the loa now making himself present to her, pushing her. “Northwest, Cheri.” She had nothing anymore, and followed the voice to Washington.
Name: Hayden Renee Zeller
Hometown: Hougan’s Bayou, LA - Port au Prince, Haiti
Age: 23
Occupation: Mechanic/Thief
Police Record: Manslaughter, Grand theft Auto, petty theft, transporting stolen goods over state lines
Species: Witch - Voodoo
Specialty: Spiritwalking
Languages: Haitian Creole, French, English
Orientation: Homoflexible maybe? Complicated!
Spirit Patron: Baron Samedi
Hayden has a knack for not having any fucks about many things that are going on in the world. Politics, Jealousy, Fighting. She is highly logical, but at the same time, lacks a filter between brain and mouth, which some times gets her in trouble. Addicted to Chaos, though she doesn’t know just how deep. Recently discovering there are more than just witches in the world, she finds she loathes Demons, seeing most of them as misogynistic. She is proud, of herself and others around her, and severely loyal.
Magic Note:
Hayden cannot ‘cast’ in traditional sense. She can’t just make things happen. Anything she does requires talismans or rituals or both, and time. She does carry gravedirt and brickdust on her at nearly all times, though they cannot cause ‘damage’ if used. But she does carry a blessed knife!