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Hex is a dainty set in a relatively modern, semi-magical and heavily theistic world, who lives in a creepy old observatory/house on the outskirts of a bustling city. Kids are usually warned to stay away from there if they know what's good for them. If asked, Hex will say that's probably a good thing ; visitors disturb his work. But nobody asks, because nobody really visits the house at the top of the hill. As for Hex, his story starts a long time ago and yet ; no time at all. It starts with his mother getting pregnant unexpectedly. It starts with a squalling dark-eyed, dark-skinned girl with bright white hair and stockings and tail being pushed into the world. It starts with her growing up a hellion. His parents weren't really the type to stop their at-the-time daughter doing what she wanted, because frankly, they didn't care. Too busy chasing their own fun - in a bottle, in a pill, in anything that would give them freedom they didn't have stuck in a small terraced council house on the suburbian estate with a kid they'd never wanted, debt they couldn't afford to pay off, and dreams that would never come true. Hex grew up staying out of their way as much as possible. He also grew up with dreams. Strange dreams, dreams that should have been terrifying. Dreams of the endless void and what could not be described that lay within. But...they never felt terrifying. The first times he realised his dreams were real, the things he'd seen and known weren't just fantasy was during a RE class. He knew the gods were real, everyone knew the gods were real. He just...hadn't expected them to be paying attention to him. She - the strict teacher - was talking about the different pantheons when she mentioned The Old Ones. The Elder Gods, those who had come before and would come after. A chill ran down his spine, and his scratching on the page of his note to a nearby student stopped. But the information was brief, sparse. Nobody knew much about the Elder Gods ; they'd not chosen a priest/ess in generations. They were powerful but did not often pay attention to mortal lives, although rarely people claimed to have visions of the void and the indescribable horrors within, it often turned the seers mad. Quietly, Hex thought to his visions. Thought to some of the things his mother sometimes said when she wasn't blitzed. Would he end up like her? Chasing anything to blunt the edge? He vowed not to. It was the first of a few vows that Hex would take, and the path it would set him down would change him ; and indeed, the fabric of reality, forever. Hex had never been a particularly avid student, so when he stopped messing around and playing pranks, the teachers were suprised - pleased, but surprised. A few were worried, guessing at his turbelent home life and wondering why he was suddenly determined to learn, why he was checking out books from the library, but Hex was able to reassure them without mentioning exactly why he was suddenly determined to succeed. The librarian, a initiate of a Knowledge-aligned deity, helped him excel, even if some of his queries were more....esoteric. She helped him all through high-school, and he was the rising academic star of what was an underfunded, underpriviliged place of education. It didn't make him popular, and by the time he came round to applying for University, he had none that he could really call friend. It didn't matter to Hex, because if someone did something to him, they always seemed to recieve back the bad luck twofold. Perhaps aided by a few machinations on Hex's part. A few sacrifices, a few carefully etched symbols. Nothing sentient, in the case of the sacrifices, of course. He wasn't stupid. A little morally grey perhaps, but not stupid. University seemed set to continue the same way ; voracious learning and excelling in his classes, but never getting closer to the gods who had given him so much. But seven weeks before leaving, on the very night of his 21st birthday, everything changed. The dreams hadn't stopped ; had only increased in frequency and oddity. He'd carefully researched some of the symbols and applied those that were safe to use in real life, but. Nothing like this. A summoning circle, crystalline-perfect and shining in his head. A voice of an eldritch god. It was time. Nobody ever found out who blew up the football pitch, left it a smoking, shimmering void. They had to call in expert priests to seal it away, to fix it. But the university couldn't let that slip, risk ruining their reputation. It was put down to childish pranks - the strange after-effects to a burst gas line interacting with whatever had been done to blow it up in the firs tplace. Hex, sitting his final exams with the whispering of an ancient, ageless being in the back of his head, smiled to himself as he crossed the last 't' in the Runic Array essay. He had taken another vow that night ; and now. Now he would never be alone again.