Jaime Hayden

And I gave my heart to know wisdom and to know madness and folly and I learned that this too is like chasing the wind, for with much wisdom comes much sorrow, the more knowledge, the more grief.

Ecclesiastes 1:17-18

Name: Jamie Hayden
Age: 25
Birthplace: His birth certificate says Baltimore, MD, but he spent his childhood in Baybridge.
Sexuality: Heterosexual, but open
Play-By: Alex Pettyfer
Occupation: Vagabond

What the average person knows about Jamie's power:  It wouldn't be a secret that Jamie has the ability to help people tap into their own powers more effectively.  Through the clinic and Lou's connections to the town, they would let it be known that if anyone was having problems to come to them for help.  This is meant primarily to help people have more control, but with the right intent and persuasion, he'd be willing to help people grow stronger as well.

Beyond that, people would begin to suspect he has some form of close bond with Lou and the kids at the Odd Captain, seeming to pass messages without much more than a glance.

Superhuman Ability: If studied by scientists, they would probably classify Jamie as a telepath.  Of course, that’s like calling all ice cream simply ice cream and not acknowledging it comes in different flavors.  In Jamie's case, it’s less about the nature of his abilities and more about the application, subconscious as that might be.

He’s a fast learner, picking up skills from people easily, mimicking them as though he was able to get right inside their heads.  He was always perceptive, good at spotting lies and sussing out unspoken truths.  People might call him intuitive in that regard, knowing what someone was thinking, even if they weren’t sure of it themselves.  Maybe that’s why he’s good at buoying the spirit, seeing through the darkness of even the worst days to that spark of optimism and hope that remains deep inside most people.  He was an influence on people in that way, inspiration, able to bring that hope to the surface, though sometimes he encouraged their more base urges, though always at their conscious or subconscious bidding.  In fact, if examined closely, he never pushed anyone into doing anything they didn’t already want to do, only into things they were afraid of or otherwise hesitant to try.

He tends to form friendships quickly and connects with people easily, though with some personalities that can turn towards co-dependence or jealousy.  In that way, time is his enemy, as it is in other ways.  If left to grow stronger, his connections cause him pain and discomfort and in all but one case, have never been let to mature.  But most of his powers are underdeveloped, weakened from a premature birth and yet to be fully understood.

A more clinical study would find that he doesn’t so much read minds or hear thoughts as translate them.  People and to a lesser degree other living organisms, appear like Christmas trees, sparkling and flashing with light, neurons moving from synapse to synapse like notes in a song.  Preferring poetry to clinical prose, he would one day describe it that way, like “watching music”, and like most music, some of it was good, some bad, some made sense, some was dissonance and noise and any one person, any one song was muffled by a thousand other competing songs, all wanting to be heard.   And like trying to explain a song, it was all open to interpretation.  Something that might seem simple, a story or a feeling, might be more metaphor than literal and something seemingly metaphor might be real.  People were fascinating that way, captivating, and he would learn to never assume he ever ‘knew’ the truth of them.  The Chosen were even more so, like a form of music that hadn’t ever existed before.  Like the first time hearing jazz, they were confusing and complicated, but impossible not to be seen as extraordinary.  He knew he could spend a lifetime listening to them and only scratch the surface of his understanding.

His other abilities were less poetic, despite his best efforts to think of them so.  If put under an EEG and tested, it would be shown that his ability at mimicry is a simple matter of mapping the pathways in someone else’s mind onto his own.  It requires the target mind to be actively thinking of or performing the task being learned so those pathways can be duplicated.  Though they might be copied quickly, repeated exposure or subsequent practice is required to acquire and retain any knowledge or skills, otherwise, they quickly fade like waking from a dream.  It was in effect, the difference between tracing and drawing and he’d already forgotten more than he retained.

The reverse is a trickier thing.  There is no indication he can create new pathways in another mind or form ideas that aren't already there.  He can however strengthen existing thoughts in another.  When a person opens a pathway, considers an idea, he can sometimes highlight those pathways, keep them flowing, making a fleeting idea linger, a lingering idea loiter.  It was inspiration and encouragement more than anything else and how it might affect the powers of The Chosen remained to be seen.  In any case, this was the first ability he learned to hide and as a result, the least developed and most restrained, only seeking out minds longing for a push.  He would later explain that most minds were defensive anyway and well protected; that parts of it (the medulla oblongata if pressed for specifics), actively fought outside influence, that it sent out warnings, instinctual resistance against interference, even the best natured kind.  The Chosen were even more resistant, something about the unleashing of their powers cementing certain pathways, creating walls and barriers throughout their brains.  Navigating them was like navigating a maze and when it began to actively fight, it was an ever changing, ever shifting maze and he would come to fear what might happen if a part of himself got lost.

But even in the most ordinary of minds, their instincts and defenses complicated things.  It was why he rarely stayed in any one place for long.  On one hand, he develops deep connections with people in a way some might call a ‘spiritual’ connection.  If asked what it was about him, people might say “he just gets me”.  While most people welcome that connection, even long for it, over time, as it grows stronger, as he becomes better at hearing and understanding their music, the part of them, deep in the back of their mind, knows something isn’t right.  And then the battle begins, between wanting a feeling of connection, a feeling of being understood, of being seen and known in all their potential, versus a sense of exposure, of being laid bare and naked, of being seen and known in all of their failings.  Fortunately, even if he doesn't yet understand it, he’s got his own instinctual defenses and has gotten good at spotting the signs, the tipping points between connection and dependence, between desire and defiance and he's quick to move along before anyone has to decide whether it's worth seeing what might come next.

Character Description and Distinctive Features:  At just over six feet and just under 180 pounds, few people would recognize him as the same awkward boy that once lived in Baybridge.  That boy seemed perpetually uncomfortable in his own skin even before he began to sprout as a teen.  Now, he seemed more than comfortable in that same skin and moved with a sort of confidence that spoke of some sort of physical training, like dance, yoga or sport.

They would however recognize the comforting smile.  He carried it as a boy and it was present, even stronger on his return, though those watching closely might see it slip out of view when he thinks no one’s looking, replaced by a contemplative sadness, as though he senses something’s wrong; and when that mood strikes him, his normally sea green eyes darken like a coming storm.

He tends to only shave on occasion and doesn’t do much with his dark blond hair, letting it’s natural wave take care of styling for him.  He likes nice clothes, but tends to make do with thrift store finds and hand me downs and doesn’t carry much more than what he can fit into the pack on his back.

Personality: The Jamie most people knew growing up was quiet if sometimes timid boy, more likely to listen than to talk.  He made friends easily though few would claim they really got to know him.  Good natured to a fault, he was sometimes teased for being overly sensitive though he usually got even with lighthearted prank or the occasional cruel one.

Anyone who knew him then will note the change upon his return.  There’s a worldliness and confidence in his eyes, as though he’s seen amazing things, but a longing that suggests he still hasn’t found everything he’s looking for.  He enjoys being around people and is uncomfortable being alone.  He hates the quiet and tends to drown it in music, even when sleeping.  He gets recurring headaches and tends to self-medicate with alcohol when it gets bad and enjoys any number of other bad habits when being social.

Goals:  To find a place he can belong

Likes/Dislikes:  Though he’s never had a pet of his own, Jamie likes animals. He loves to feel things on his skin, whether the warmth of the sun, the cool of water, the softness of nice fabric or the touch of another.  He likes sweet and musky scents, but dislikes foul ones.  He loves music and is a decent, though not remarkable musician himself.  His favorite food is any sort of chocolate and he loves a good cup of coffee, though he has to be careful as both things can exacerbate his headaches.  He dislikes being alone or in a quiet place for too long and often surrounds himself with people or at the very least noise.  He likes to paint and art, especially impressionism and abstracts.  He likes colors, especially blues and reds or any form of their combination.  He dislikes rules and sometimes breaks them on principle, but is careful to stay out of trouble and avoids undue notice, even if it usually finds him anyway.  He dislikes people who feel possessive, especially of other people, though he understands it.  He doesn’t even begin to understand prejudice.

Character History: By all accounts, his mother had been a brilliant woman.  Top of her class at Johns Hopkins she could have had her pick of spots teaching at a top university or working at the best research firms, so it was unclear why she’d taken a job with a little known company in a remote part of the country.

She never divulged who his father was, though Jamie’s aunt suspected a married and much older co-worker with whom his mother was having an affair.  Jamie never got to ask her himself and in time learned not to care.

The official medical report says his mother suffered a massive brain aneurysm sending her into labor.  Jamie was delivered via cesarean a month premature.

~O~

He’d always been told he was special, but in a town like Baybridge, he wasn’t.

He needed more than two hands to count the number of friends who had lost one or both parents before they were in high school either to illness, accident, infidelity or alcohol.  He wasn’t particularly special in any other way either.  He was a good enough kid, smart, but not brilliant, talented, but not a prodigy, athletic, but not a star.

He was only special in the way everyone else was special.

~O~

He had a normal enough childhood.  He had a few good friends, a first crush, plenty of embarrassment and far too many dreams.  Only, they didn’t always feel like his dreams, they felt like he carried everyone else’s dreams, his aunt’s, his friends’.  He was the guy that would tell you could “do it”, even if it was insane and unlikely.  Want to be a rock star, you can be, just pick up a guitar, want to fly to the moon, it’s only 250,000 miles, that’s less than 10 times around the Earth, so go do it.  And the thing was, no matter how wild the idea, he was always able to make it seem real, make it seem possible, make it seem just a little less crazy.

But he was never able to make that happen for his own dreams, in no small part because though he thought about doing everything, he never really wanted anything, never truly wanted.

But he was only a kid, what was he supposed to want, to grow up to be a police man, a fireman, a cowboy or astronaut?  It wasn’t until he was 16 that he ever really wanted anything, born of a mixture of teenage hormones and a taste of what could be.

Unfortunately, what could be and what was, turned out to be very different things.

~O~

They left one night without explanation or goodbyes, he and his aunt leaving their little house in the care of a family friend.

That was when he learned being special wasn’t a good thing.

~O~

They moved around for the next few years, living in artist communities and religious communes, anywhere on the fringes of the world.  Sometimes they would stay for months, sometimes days, forcing him to strip away ideas of permanence, possessions, plans.  Some of the people they stayed with were interesting, exciting, filled with creative thoughts and new ideas.  He learned to abandon notions of privacy, at least physical ones, discard conventions, rules and most of the things he’d been taught in school.  Some of them on the other hand were twisted, holding themselves up as enlightened when really they just used the notion as an excuse to indulge themselves in selfish pursuits and pleasures.

For her part, his aunt was pretty good about spotting trouble before it got out of hand and they would move along to some other place and some other people.  In time, he got good at it too and was soon the one that would tell her when it was time to go.

~O~

He was 19 when she got sick.  She’d been having problems for a while, headaches, dizziness, things she’d attributed to fatigue, but eventually she couldn’t hide her concerns and they turned out to be real.  Fortunately, they caught it early and though the cancer was extensive, the doctors said it was treatable.

~O~

He resisted her at first.  She wanted him to continue on without her, strike out on his own, telling him it was time, filling him with platitudes and clichés.  He was a young man, time to find himself, see the world.  He finally agreed when she let the truth slip free… a part of her thought he might be the cause.

~O~

He’d never truly been alone, had never understood what it meant to be alone, how lonely it really was.  Now, even when he surrounded himself with people, he felt alone.  Even when he tried to get close, he felt a distance, like everyone around him was in a fog, out of focus, not entirely real.

That wasn’t to say he was sad in those years, wasn’t to say he didn’t meet people he would consider friends, didn’t experience things he would carry with him, didn’t have a good time.  He played in a band in New York, saw Europe and walked a runway in Milan, briefly dated a duchess in Switzerland and learned to paint in Nice.  In fact, he lived more in those few years than he had in the previous 20.

It was an adventure, a dream, but like most dreams, it was fragmented and didn't last very long.  So he kept moving, looking for something more, even if he didn’t know what.

~O~

He thought he had come to understood loneliness in those years, but he was wrong.  It wasn’t until he heard the news that he came to truly understand.

Even though he was halfway across the world, he kept in touch with his aunt, writing, calling, checking in.  It wasn’t the same as when they’d traveled together or even before when they’d had a little home in Baybridge, but it was comforting all the same.  She’d gotten better and he was getting better, closer to figuring out who and what he was.

He felt his heart drop when she told him the news.

~O~

“She’s gone,” he told his mother, the sunlight so bright behind her he could barely see her face.  He used to visit her more often, but the woman in front of him barely knew, was comatose most of the time, a dark and empty shell of a person, lit up only occasionally and never lucid.

“It was fast,” he explained, wishing he could say it had been painless, but it hadn't, he’d heard his aunt’s cries, knew how it had felt like claws tearing her apart from the inside.  He’d done his best to comfort her, share it with her and wanted to think it had helped.

“And she thought of you,” he shared, something which was true.

“We’ve both thought of you,” he added.

“I’ll visit again soon,” he promised, getting up and kissing her on the forehead, feeling something flicker to life for just a moment before it faded away.

~O~

He wasn’t sure how long he would stay.  Wasn’t even sure if Baybridge was still his home or what that even meant.  But it had been his aunt’s home, her family’s home and despite what she might have said, it’s where she wanted to be in the end.  So, he was coming back after…

“Ten years,” he realized as the town came into view.

“Ten years,” he said, this time with disbelief, wondering at the feeling, the trepidation growing in his stomach, wondering, how much of it had changed.

Family:

Mary Hayden (Mother) – Mary has been comatose since Jamie was born.  She lives at a long term care facility near Baybridge.  Jamie used to visit her every few months, even when on the road, but hadn’t for years while abroad.

??? (Father) – Jamie doesn’t know who his father is.  His aunt had suspicions that it was a someone working with his mother, an older married man.  Jamie has learned not to care.

Margaret “Maggie” Hayden (Aunt) – Maggie was part mother, part sister, best friend and closest confidant.  Maggie was something of a free spirit even before she took on the responsibility of raising Jamie and one of the strongest, most resilient people he has ever known.  A bit eccentric on the surface, he knew her to be no nonsense at the core.  She was diagnosed with Stage III brain cancer five years ago, went into remission for a couple of years before it returned.  She succumbed quickly in the last few months.

Character Connections (Work in Progress):
If I miss any Baybridge originals, my apologies, please let me know.  And I'm open to connections with non-Baybridgers too :)

• Charity Pitts – She was a few years younger than him growing up.  Did they ever know each other?
  
• Jackson Bondurant – Did Jamie see Jackson’s good side or only his bad side?
  
• Lou Cahill – Would they have met as children?  Been friends?  Would they have met a decade later when she returned, before he left?  Would they meet again, yet another decade later?
  
• Ryan Barnes & Willa Crowder – They grew up in the same classes, with the same friends.  Did he know Willa?  Did he know Ryan?  Were they friends?  In either case, he would have been gone by the time she returned with Earline and before Ryan went away.
  
• Toby Dukes – The same age, did they play in the same band, however briefly it might have lasted (pre-16)?  Would they have been friends?
  
• Vincent Pike – A lot younger than him, did they even know each other?
  
• Wesley Porter – Though they didn’t grow up in the same town, they have too many similarities in their pasts to be just coincidence.   Were they part of the same experiment?  Do they have the same father?  Is there more to their connection beyond both being early 'failures'?
  
• Zoey Montgomery – She was couple of years younger than Jamie.  Did they even know each other?