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Realistic or Modern camp daybreak (cs)

dwale

drownin
navigation

character skeleton
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╳ i used to be a lover. (stats) ╳

≡ name: here
≡ alias: here
≡ age: here
≡ dob: here
≡ pob: here
≡ zodiac: here
≡ gender: here
≡ nationality: here
≡ religion: here
≡ romantic orientation: here
≡ sexual orientation: here
≡ parent: god/monster/goddess

≡ faceclaim: here
≡ height: here
≡ weight: here
≡ hair color: here
≡ eye color: here
≡ voiceclaim: here (optional)
≡ tattoos/piercings: here
≡ distinguishing marks/features: here
≡ clothing style: here (optional)

≡ + traits: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
≡ - traits: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
≡ likes: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
≡ dislikes: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
≡ moral alignment: here
≡ mbti: xxxx
≡ strengths: 1, 2, 3, 4
≡ weaknesses: 1, 2, 3, 4

≡ theme song: here
≡ spoken languages: here
╳ now i’m a hater. (in-depth) ╳
bio
3+ paragraphs describing their life before they arrived at Camp Daybreak, how they feel about their parentage, whether they enjoy being at the camp or not, how they've met their friends/lovers/etc. If they're children of monsters, do they feel set apart from the children with godly parents? If they're children of Gods, do they feel safe with the hybrids there?
 
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→ everything you feel is okay. ←
→ stats. ←
full name.......ander elio heanue
alias.......n/a
age.......21
dob.......july 12
pob.......ny, ny
zodiac.......cancer
gender.......cismale
religion.......n/a
romantic orientation.......panromantic
sexual orientation.......pansexual
parent.......hyperion (titan)

faceclaim.......matthew daddario
height.......6'3"
weight.......165lbs
hair color.......dark brown
eye color.......a really intimidating gold
voice claim.......matthew daddario
tattoos.......n/a
distinguishing features.......his permanent scowl, crooked smile

+ traits.......perseverant, sympathetic, intelligent, quick-witted, athletic
- traits.......distant, stubborn, easily distracted, uptight, blunt
likes.......archery, sleeping, doing his hair, sweets
dislikes.......being alone, sleeping, musicals, loud people
moral alignment.......chaotic smthn
mbti.......INFP
strengths.......archery, sprinting, hand-to-hand, climbing
weaknesses.......compassion, public speaking, swimming, talking
love style.......storge
love language.......physical affection
powers.......his sight and hearing is heightened, has psychic visions

theme song.......drown by seafret (cover)
spoken languages.......english, all ancient languages
→ bio. ←
Ander was born and immediately things went wrong. When he was less than a week old, the apartment building him and his mother were living in at the time seemingly burst into flames for no reason. The helpless infant was somehow carried from the burning building, but his mother wasn't saved and her body was never found. While it still puzzles local law enforcement, Ander has long since gotten over it.

Tossed from orphanage to orphanage until finally, a kind, older man approached him. He was weary at first, even at the tender age of four, but when the man reached out his hand he was unable to resist taking it. That led him into a whole new world and one where he felt he actually belonged.

Always a bit gullible, Ander had little problem taking in the news that the old Gods and Goddesses were thriving and still producing children --- many of whom he would befriend and aid --- and it gave him some semblance of hope. Maybe his bad start at life would be the end of his troubles. He was eager to learn what the Gods and Goddesses were like, what they looked like, whether all of the legends were true. His questions would be answered.

Ander went unclaimed until he was seventeen and when he finally was, it was not celebrated and he was not applauded. He was taken to the Main House --- a place where you only went if you were in trouble --- and he was stuck in a room for several hours without any idea what was going on. He hadn't a clue even who his parent was or why it was such a big deal. When the director returned with a grim look on his face, he was terrified that he would be losing all he'd ever known.

The elder man explained the symbol that had appeared above his head; a fiery image of a sun with a moon inside of it. It was a grim symbol, one recognized immediately by Ander as soon as it was spoken aloud. His father was not a Greek, Roman, or Aztec God, but a titan. Someone who'd been practically vanished from existence by the Greek Pantheon. The days after were met with cold looks and fleeting touches. Nobody wanted to be his partner, friends grew distant, rumors were spread. He took up residence in the Main House, since he didn't technically belong anywhere else.

He's been bitter about his parentage since and though now he's the director of archery, there are still kids who shy away from his presence. He once again feels as if he doesn't belong.
ander heanue
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→ a little tune to play. ←
→ stats. ←
full name.......barack rai cesare
alias.......'rai'
age.......19
dob.......august 24
pob.......cairns, australia
zodiac.......virgo
gender.......cismale
religion.......n/a
romantic orientation.......no pref
sexual orientation.......no pref
parent.......jupiter

faceclaim.......aj saudin
height.......6'2"
weight.......150lbs
hair color.......black
eye color.......brown
voice claim.......jai courtney
tattoos.......n/a
distinguishing features.......his upturned nose, his facial hair, nose ring

+ traits.......goofy, optimistic, loving, friendly, selfless
- traits.......gullible, dull, irresponsible, dishonest, lazy
likes.......marijuana, pretty people, bean bags, dogs caci
dislikes.......washing dishes, homework, exercising, reptiles
moral alignment.......neutral good
mbti.......esfj
strengths.......reading, writing, talking, sleeping
weaknesses.......physical activity, sports, competing, math
love style.......storge
love language.......quality time
powers.......electrokinesis

theme song.......warmth by bastille
spoken languages.......english, some spanish
→ bio. ←
From the beginning, Rai's mother was his lifeline. She was his support, the only one who really seemed to care, and without her being there he's not sure he'd even still be alive. She supported him throughout school, especially when he seemed to struggle, and didn't pressure him to be incredibly active like most kids where he lived. She understood that's not who he was and was proud of him regardless.

As a child he was often sent home for things he didn't understand. One time while he was in gym he'd hugged his friend and she'd screamed, jolting from his arms and collapsing to the ground. The principal had been contacted and his mother had come to get him. He still hasn't forgiven himself for that, though he knows why it happened now.

At sixteen he was going on a trip with some of his friends to the U.S. --- it was chaperoned and paid for by the school --- and that's when disaster struck him again. A woman, who looked rather strange to him from the start of the flight due to the scaly green marks running down the side of her neck. However, when asking his friends about it, they rolled their eyes at him and asked what drugs he was on. He'd been confused, but hadn't said much else after that, choosing to ignore it for the time being.

When the woman transformed into something absolutely terrifying, he knew it wasn't a joke or some trick of the imagination. He watched as his friends were torn apart and he would've suffered the same fate had it not been for a girl with bright bubblegum hair and a tall male with bright, golden eyes. They looked at the scrawny, blood covered male and told him to get up with voices that left no room for refusal.

He's been at camp since and hasn't seen his mom since that day, though he skypes and calls her regularly. He's gotten into a bit of trouble with the devil's lettuce at camp and is often found doing the dishes, but he's pure on the inside.
barack cesare
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→ it's a last resort. ←
→ stats. ←
full name.......beau alexander mehta
alias.......n/a
age.......17
dob.......march 1
pob.......san diego, california
zodiac.......pisces
gender.......cismale
religion.......n/a
romantic orientation.......homoromantic
sexual orientation.......homosexual
parent.......tzitzimitl

faceclaim.......do kyung-soo
height.......5'3"
weight.......115lbs
hair color.......black
eye color.......brown
voice claim.......robert sheehan (american accent)
tattoos.......n/a
distinguishing features.......his neatly groomed eyebrows, his height, freckles on his shoulders

+ traits.......loyal, ambitious, efficient, honest, independent
- traits.......angry, feisty, fussy, harsh, impatient
likes.......being alone, nighttime, stargazing, languages, attention
dislikes.......water, summer time, swimming, most animals, loud noises
moral alignment.......chaotic neutral
mbti.......infj
strengths.......drawing, sprinting, knife throwing, shin-kicking
weaknesses.......swimming, climbing, fighting, archery
love style.......agape
love language.......words of affirmation
powers.......undead physiology, skeleton physiology

theme song.......sleepsong by bastille
spoken languages.......english, french, spanish, german, mandarin, japanese
→ bio. ←
tw: attempted drowning
Beau was born and raised in California, but despite this he didn't thrive in the incredibly warm climate and was often sick because of it, resulting in quite a lot of time in the hospital. His father, being an incredibly important and busy politician, had little time to spend with him so he learned to live with being alone. He wasn't the most social child and preferred to stray from embarrassing himself, so he had very few friends growing up. Even fewer when his stunted height halted and he was constantly teased about it.

It wasn't until he was fifteen that his 'powers' exposed themselves and he still wishes they never had. His father came home to find him flickering between Beau and something that just couldn't be human. Beau had no idea what was going on when his father beckoned him to the bathroom and he had no idea what he'd done when hands were wrapped around his throat and he was thrust into the cold water in the bathtub. He was much smaller than his father, much weaker, and could do little more than claw at the arms that were holding him under.

He was so close to death, water filling his lungs, when the hands were suddenly gone and he could push himself up and out of the water. He sat there choking, trying to regain his breath, before he looked up to see a star-speckled woman with a black dress covered in crossbones. His father was lying on the floor, unconscious one moment, and the next Beau was staring at healthy and green grass.

He's been at the camp two years and he still has nightmares about his father, though his life has changed for the better.
beau mehta
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→ i was thinking about you. ←
→ stats. ←
full name.......donovan andrew aiday
alias.......n/a
age.......23
dob.......october 17
pob.......ny, ny
zodiac.......libra
gender.......cismale
religion.......n/a
romantic orientation.......demiromantic
sexual orientation.......demisexual
parent.......siren

faceclaim.......colin o'donoghue
height.......5'11"
weight.......150lbs
hair color.......dark brown
eye color.......blue
voice claim.......colin o'donoghue (american accent)
tattoos.......n/a
distinguishing features.......his posture, neatly groomed hair, kind of messy facial hair

+ traits.......perseverant, kind, fair, loyal, friendly
- traits.......emotionally driven, stubborn, ditzy, gullible, nervous
likes.......coffee, cities, nighttime, teaching, water
dislikes.......messes, cats, frosting, humidity, plants
moral alignment.......lawful good
mbti.......infj
strengths.......hand-to-hand, long distance running, swimming, writing
weaknesses.......long distance weaponry, strategy, public speaking, drawing
love style.......agape
love language.......quality time
powers.......siren physiology (not transformation tho)

theme song.......skin by rag'n'bone man
spoken languages.......english, greek, spanish
→ bio. ←
Donovan was adopted by two males at the age of four. He'd been left at an orphanage as an infant by the man that was his father, for he'd helped in the creation of a son that he was unable to take care of. With the mother gone, the male decided to leave his son in the care of the state. Donovan's experience in the orphanage wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't particularly splendid either. He looks back on it without any apprehension and is grateful for his time there, because it ultimately made him kinder.

He was raised in a loving and warm environment and was supported in whatever he did, his fathers not having any plans for the boy that went against what he wanted. He excelled in school, had a few close friends he spent his free time with, and quite enjoyed swimming. He also had a magnetic voice, one that only his parents had ever heard, but it was part of him nonetheless.

He arrived at camp when he was 15 due to his parents getting attacked by a chimera. They'd been saved just in time by some senior campers and he'd been taken with them, but only with the promise that he would be able to see his fathers again.

He's now a counselor at the camp and teaches the ancient greek language to many students.
donovan aiday
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son of selene
Clark Vega
goddess of the moon

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I'VE GOT MY HEAVY HEART TO HOLD ME DOWN​

Our consciences are always so much heavier than our egos.


Face Claim || Oliver Stummvoll
Height || 6'0"
Weight || Healthy. Toned build.
Hair Color || Close to platinum blonde.
Eye Color || Blue
Voice Claim || TBD
Tattoos/Piercings || n/a
Distinguishing Features || Broad-shouldered. Defined features
Clothing Style || Relatively simple. Favors monochromatic color schemes. Fond of jackets.
[ x ] [ x ]
Gallery || [ x ][ x ][ x ]
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ONCE IT FALLS APART, MY HEAD'S IN THE CLOUDS​
Name || Clark Vega
Alias || You can try.
Age || 22
DOB || December 28th
POB || Oregon, USA
Zodiac || Capricorn
Gender || Cismale
Nationality || American
Religion || Agnostic
Orientation || Biromantic Pansexual
Parent || Goddess Selene
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SO I'M TAKING EVERY CHANCE I'VE GOT
≡ + Traits || thoughtful, compassionate, genuine, principled, reliable, observant, adaptable
- Traits || awkward, aloof, phlegmatic, self-conscious, moody, oblivious, snarky
Likes || mild weather, cool colors, neutrals, good intent, being useful, late nights, animals, nature
Dislikes || extreme heat, getting up early, cruelty just for the sake of it, arrogance, inconsiderate people
Moral Alignment || Neutral Good
MBTI || ISFJ-T
Strengths || Altruistic, has a genuine concern for the well-being of others; Observant, aware of his surroundings and in tune with the feelings of others (though he isn't nearly as strong at interpreting the meanings behind them); Constructive, pulls his own weight and more; Hand to hand combat
Weaknesses || Awkward, consistently finds himself getting screwed over in social situations; Sensitive, may not be forthright about it but takes things to heart and has a tendency to overthink; Unreasonably selfless, would let himself fall to pieces if it meant helping someone who needed it; Lacking in self-confidence
Powers || Lunar Energy Manipulation [currently has little to no idea what he's doing tbh]
Theme Song || Turn Off The Lights - Panic at the Disco
Spoken Languages || English
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LIKE THE MAN I KNOW I'M NOT

Sometimes, Clark can't tell if life got harder or he got weaker.

He was always a quiet boy, but it wasn't ever due to fear. It was the way he liked things to be. He found comfort in being able to take in the world around him without it wanting anything in return. To be able to enjoy existence for what it was at whatever point he was at in his life.

From a young age, he seemed to have a sensitivity to the world that many didn't seem to bother with. His step-mother would always tell him that he was too soft for his own good, but it was something said with a smile on her face. Something said with pride and affection. She saw the good in everything and everyone. His father said the same thing, but it was said scornfully. Something said with distaste.

Still, even his father had a heart, and some of his best days were during childhood. He was practically a golden boy in his home town, but it was never something that he let define him. He didn't feel pressured, then. His world was solid. Bulletproof.

At least, that's what he thought.

That's what everyone thinks.

He was wrong.
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white lips, pale face, breathing in the snowflakes


Ingrid B. Bjorn// in-grid be-yearn
Greer// No one calls her Ingrid// Snowflake etc

Nineteen// December 23// Capricorn
Female// Demi-bisexual

Scandinavian// Swedish
Boreas// Lord of the North Wind

her touch is cold
APPEARANCE.
Hair; A natural platinum blonde, darker at the roots, almost white at its tips. It's wavy and could sometimes come in curls, stretching down at shoulder length and regularly tied in a tight braid.

Eyes; A very dark blue but is usually perceived as black.

Physique; Greer stands at about 6' 0" and weighs around 134 lbs. Besides being naturally slim, she has a solid frame and strong, developed muscles. She sports a few piercings at her ears and two on her nose. Though, she doesn't wear them daily. She also has a small tattoo on the inside of her upper forearm. (x) She has another much more unique tattoo of a rose on her left bicep. (x)

Faceclaim & Voiceclaim; Ebba Zingmark (x)
Wardrobe; Greer's choice of style is a strong combination of comfort, minimalism and confidence. She's also more than happy to show some skin. (x x x)

winter in her bones, her glaciers groan
PERSONA.
Personality; Greer considers herself to be a very simple individual.

On the surface, she practices equanimity by preferring to think before she speaks, causing her to be naturally observant. But this doesn't mean she's a passive bystander-- rather, she is assertive when she wants to be and a leader if the situation calls for it.

To add, Greer is very dedicated. Whether it is starting a romantic relationship or if she wants to learn something new, she will achieve her goals without hesitation. Yet, she maintains her practical nature, sensibly approaching scenarios and thinking things through.

However, while Greer has a great work ethic, she lacks in her social skills. Due to her apprehension against strangers and her unwillingness to easily open up, she is prone to receiving casual relationships when she prefers private ones. She is often unaware of social cues and sometimes unable to recognise another's particular feelings, be it romantic or hate, towards her unless it is explicitly stated. Being tactlessly honest or sarcastic in conversations has not earned her any friends and her pessimism even more so. Unless you're someone she knows or cares about, you will most likely receive the cold shoulder (ha!) and the insensitive treatment.

Likes; Winter. Sleeping. Sunglasses. Reading. Organised environments. Alcohol. Attractive people. The smell of vanilla and coffee. The colour white. Chess. Text highlighters.
Dislikes; Sunny days. Loud noises. Eating. Accidentally freezing anything. Change.
Eccentricities; Her fingers turn white at extreme emotions. She rubs her eyes when she lies. She licks her lips when she's scared. She only drinks iced beverages.

Moral Alignment; Neutral Good.
MBTI; ISTJ.

PROWESS.

Powers; Greer's powers is mainly frigiokinesis, with temperatures and winds as her specialty. As practice hone her skills, she specifically uses her powers to enhance her combat. She is be self-sustainable as well as self healing under the cold and she's also mostly immune to extreme temperatures which could otherwise be harmful. Due to her constant use of these abilities subconsciously, this means that anyone within a proximity of two feet feel like they're standing right next to an air conditioner.

Skills; Sword Combat. In combat, Greer does best when wielding a sword, capable of deadly attacks. She's very agile but can be picky with the swords she uses as she prefers short swords which requires her to be in extremely close range. She fights with an in-your-face style as her friends describe it to be. Bilingual. She speaks fluent Swedish and has tried to teach her companions her mother tongue. Listening. Though only somewhat, Greer's passive and observant nature lends itself well to quietly sit next to someone and just listen to someone, with the proper amount of affection and her practical side providing her understanding thoughts afterwards.

Weaknesses; Swimming. Archery. Improvisation.

Weapon of Choice; Greer has a sword she named Kyropágima, Greek for Frostbite which she forged herself under the guidance of some Hesphaetus and Vulcan campers. She had it on her first year anniversary staying in Camp Daybreak. She kept it in use since then. She has a renewable magic disguise as a Swedish dollar and triggered to shapeshift when she needs it to.

but the blizzard hailed darkness upon her
BACKGROUND.
Freya Bjorn had a tragic past before becoming a mother to Ingrid.

With a failed family after the death of her first daughter and a mental health issue bothering her life, Freya couldn't keep up the happy and strong facade.

No one paid attention to her when she stood by the ledge. But when she jumped, instead of falling, she floated down safely onto the sidewalk. A man approached her and held her hand. He hugged her when she broke down in tears. He escorted her back into her home.

He, was Boreas.

Freya felt much better having another companion. She still had her doubts and fears. her bad memories still haunt her but Boreas helped her realise that she could fight. She understood that he couldn't stay-- after all, he's a god with duties. She did however, ask him a blessing for a safe delivery of his child. And so Ingrid was born.

As a child, Ingrid was immediately recognised in her community for her somewhat uncommon shade of blonde hair. It became a 'quirk', along with her ability to withstand the winter in minimal clothing. This individualistic trait had her exposed to attention she didn't want. People didn't really care who she was and only on how she looked. This in turn developed her calm demeanour and desire for practical skills.

Her mother raised her with tales of Greek instead of the more local Norse mythology. Never talked about the past and was usually wary of people. Guests never come into their home, her mother never seemed to be fond of making friends. It became something that Ingrid adapted, a lifestyle of privacy she accepted.

Sometime around the age of fourteen, Ingrid gained a friend. Someone so similar, they could've been twins. Appearance wise, personality wise and even that odd quirk. Her name was signe. She showed her the truth-- an explanation and world just for them-- the powers. the ice, the snow.

As they bonded, so did their parents. Eventually, later that year, Mikael and Freya got married and upon discovery that both of their children were demigods, they sent Ingrid and Signe off to Camp Daybreak.

With no one to guide them, they relied on sensory signs and mostly got lost in the woods. But after a night camping out, Signe went missing and Ingrid panicked. She searched and searched, before losing consciousness not far from the camp gates due to thirst. Her body was white and cold.

When she woke up, she was at the infirmary.

"What's your name?" they asked her.

"Greer. And I'm the daughter of Boreas."

She was immediately welcomed by the few people who resided in her cabin. Greer learnt how to wield a sword, made an enchanted one of her own, warmed up to and bonded with camp. She even got her first tattoo here.


MISCELLANEOUS.
Theme; (x x x)


Other; She's ambidextrous though prefers her left hand. Only a few people know that her real name is Ingrid (the few people being her sisters who know better that no swede child could possibly have a name like Greer). Her middle name is Bridgetta, in honour of her late half-sister.


 
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DAUGHTER OF NIKE
Fallon Theroux
GODDESS OF VICTORY

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I'M A PRINCESS CUT FROM MARBLE​

After me comes the flood.


Face Claim || Ruairi Luke
Height || 5'8"
Weight || 132 lbs.
Hair Color || Dark brown. Almost black in certain lighting.
Eye Color || Green
Voice Claim || TBD
Tattoos/Piercings || Pierced ears.
Distinguishing Features || Thick eyebrows. Bright eyes. Freckles scattered across her face.
Clothing Style || Particularly fond of layering accessories, distressed/oversized clothing, mesh, lace, etc.
[ x ] [ x ]
Gallery || [ x ][ x ][ x ]
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SMOOTHER THAN A STORM​
Name || Fallon Rose Theroux
Alias || n/a // tba
Age || 20
DOB || August 17th
POB || Auckland, NZ
Zodiac || Leo
Gender || Cisfemale
Nationality || New Zealander
Religion || Agnostic
Orientation || Demiromantic Bisexual
Parent || Goddess Nike
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THE SCARS THAT MARK MY BODY
≡ + Traits || assertive, perceptive, rational, loyal, resilient, disciplined, reliable, astute, purposeful, driven, fair-minded
- Traits || critical, prideful, obsessive, unapologetic, domineering, competitive, unforgiving, secretive, aggressive, cutthroat, relentless
Likes || sparring, challenges, beaches, dawn, banter, freedom
Dislikes || assumptions, irrationality, sour tastes, shrill voices, restrictions, most authoritative figures
Moral Alignment || Chaotic Good
MBTI || ENTJ-T
Strengths || Compelling, has a way of commanding attention and inspiring others; Quick-witted, adaptable and always on her toes; Active, significant stamina and dutifully maintained fitness; Logical, generally level-headed and decisive
Weaknesses || Highly competitive, plays to win or doesn't care to play at all; Guarded, has good intent but can upset others by coming across as wary or suspicious; Implacable, horrible habit of holding grudges and is just generally never 100% fulfilled; Self-critical, pushes herself to a a near unhealthy extent and doesn't deal well with failure
Powers ||
Theme Song || Lorde - Yellow Flicker Beat
Spoken Languages || English
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THEY'RE SILVER AND GOLD
Fallon supposes that she could say that things had been simpler once.

After all, childhood alone could be considered the embodiment of simpler times. It could be a time where there was less stress, less accountability, less of the world crushing her and more of her crushing the world. She was on top of it, then. How would she have known otherwise? Things weren't so vast, then. So grand in scheme and scale and so heavy. No, not then. Then, the world was light and on her side. It wasn't girl versus. It was girl with.

Really, it's a nice thought, if a little bittersweet. When she thinks simpler times, the world is vivid and brilliant. The feeling of nostalgia stretches as far and as wide as the horizon. When she thinks simple, it is sunsets and sand, dawn and dusk, love and longing. It is the salt of the ocean on her tongue.

Yes, she supposes she could say that it had not always been this way, and life could have been all of those things and nothing else, but she'd be lying if she did.

For Fallon, it has always been girl versus. Girl versus world. Girl versus others. Girl versus herself. She has never known anything different.
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I'VE BECOME A MASTER AT BREAKING MY OWN HEART
x

x

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hi
i'm tired of being what you want me to be
feeling so faithless lost under the surface

height 6'0.5" [184 cm]
weight 168 lbs [76 kg]
hair brown, soft & nice to touch
eyes blue-green, slightly downturned
ethnicity brazilian
face claim daniel illescas
voice claim tbd
tattoos/piercings: n/a
clothing style: x x x x
gallery x x x

hi
don't know what you're expecting of me
put under the pressure of walking in your shoes

name andrés varela
nicknames some simply leave off the s call him andré, a more common one is dre (pronounced 'dray')
age 20
date of birth january 21
place of birth houston
zodiac aquarius
gender cisgender male (he/him/his)
nationality american
religion catholic
orientation panromantic demisexual
parent chalchiuhtlicue

hi
caught in the undertow
just caught in the undertow

+ traits warm, merciful, level-headed, altruistic, gregarious, charismatic, selfless, reasonable, diplomatic, faithful
- traits insecure, overthinking, unsure, indecisive, tentative, fearful, gullible, unmotivated, sensitive, tight-lipped
likes cats, dogs, sweaters, scarves, fall weather, cuddling, warm hands, hot cocoa, libraries, good books, validation tbh
dislikes TV dinners, wearing tank tops, shoes that pinch, rudeness, the spring (terrible allergies rip), raised voices, arguments, if u go for that high five he will flinch
moral alignment lawful good
mbti intj-t
strengths in good physical condition, has decent control over his magic
weaknesses poor recovery, second-guesses himself, his aim game is weak
spoken languages english, spanish
theme numb by linkin park [ x
powers hydrokinetic intangibility [not able to control altogether that well]; can stay underwater for long periods of time [passive]
extra n/a

hi
every step that i take
is another mistake to you

biography Andrés' father was not one to take being left altogether that well, especially if he came out of a relationship with nothing else but a child. He was an unhappy man, but not yet willing to drop his newborn son off at an orphanage — though it maybe would've been better for Andrés if he had.

The first few years were happy enough.

Enrique Varela was perhaps a little distant to his bright-eyed son, but he worked one full-time job and two part-time ones and, really, it wasn't something you could blame him for. He hardly spent any time at home, and what time he did spend was spent sleeping his exhaustion off. He kept a roof over their heads and food on the table, and even as a child, Andrés would never ask for more than he was given.

When Andrés turned ten his mother dropped by. It felt strange to know that this woman was his mother when she felt like little more than a stranger; they shared the same eyes, though, so there was that. She told him he'd grown up nicely. He said thank you, you did too (because it seemed the polite thing to say), and she'd thrown her head back and laughed.

Later, he'd find out she was a goddess; he'd think back to how she looked, bright grin and eyes closed and hair a thick mane behind her, and wonder how he hadn't guessed.

What she meant to do was say hello and see what they were doing. What ended up happening was a lapse in judgement and a kiss between herself and Enrique, her drawing back and saying, "No, I can't, it'd be a mistake — " Tempers flared and it spiraled downwards quickly from there. Voices rose, glass shattered, the door slammed behind Chalchiuhtlicue.

The happy years were over.

Andrés inherited little from his father; his eyes, his facial structure, the arch of his brows all came from his mother. And it wasn't a bad thing, necessarily, but Chalchiuhtlicue tore open a wound that had not yet healed and Enrique was but a mortal.

He fell prey to alcohol, let it cloud his mind and his judgement. Drunken eyes blurred Andrés' visage into that of his mother and on nights when he could not fight the hurt inside of him, he would fight his son.

Andrés stopped wearing short-sleeved shirts, to hide the bruises from being thrown into walls and pounded with angry fists. Learned how to walk so quietly you couldn't hear him if you tried, how to give answers that weren't really answers at all to avoid pouring gas onto the flames. In the end, it never was enough, up until he found a safe haven in Camp Daybreak.

He still holds some bitterness towards his mother, but he's tried to come to terms with the fact that she hadn't known. He couldn't care less who the parents of other Camp Daybreak inhabitants are, because doesn't everyone deserve a place to feel safe?

.. was probably voted prom king
.. tactful & charismatic, talks to ppl and charms them so well you'd think he's doing it on purpose?? and u resolve to not like him?? but he's like genuinely sweet and when he asks about your day he truly wants to know abt how you've been doing??/?/???/
.. that's why no one expects him to be introverted & prefer libraries to parties but well he does so here we are
.. his aesthetic is soft sweaters & messy hair & burrowing underneath 200 blankets to start and finish a good book & not getting out of bed the whole day
.. would get mugged in a dark sketchy alley tbqh :/
.. soft & sensitive & socially anxious
.. had shitty parents & his self-esteem took as many beatings as he did
.. really bad at initiating anything liKE HE WANTS TO TALK W YOU AND MAKE FRIENDS AND GIVE YOU LOVE AND HE'S GOOD AT KEEPING THE CONVO GOING ONCE YOU START IT he just... can't start it himself...
.. flinches if you raise your voice at him
.. would let you stomp all over him and not do a single thing to defend himself but the moment you move in on someone he cares for he will tear into you w no mercy and rip you to fuckin shreds
.. needs love
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{
BOY,
YOU WHISPER THUNDER INTO MY EARS AND
TRACE LIGHTNING DOWN MY NECK UNTIL
I AM TREMBLING DOWN IN MY BONES
AND CANNOT HELP BUT TO
FALL
IN LOVE
WITH
STORMS
}


x


x

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x
my demons are begging me to open up my mouth
i need them mechanically make the words come out

height not overwhelmingly tall at 5'8" [173 cm], but with legs that go on for days and a presence that makes her seem quite a bit taller
weight 126 lbs [57 kg] of lithe muscle
hair long and smooth, a chestnut brown that can appear almost black in some lightings
eyes sharp, piercing green
ethnicity danish
face claim nadya kurgan
voice claim scarlett johansson
tattoos/piercings five small bird tattoos underneath her left collarbone, one for every person she's ever loved (whether platonically or romantically) and had to let go [ x ]
clothing style x x x x
gallery x x x x

x
they fight me, vigorous and angry, watch them pounce
ignite me, licking at the flames they bring about

name ophelia von mehren
nicknames most people just address her as 'ophelia'; there's the occasional person who gets too familiar and tries to refer to her as "ophe" but they get ignored
age 20
birthdate october 31st
place of birth detroit
zodiac scorpio
gender cis female (she/her/hers)
nationality american
religion atheist
orientation ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
parent janus

x
i sold my soul to a three-piece
and he told me i was holy

+ traits determined, sharp-witted, quick-thinking, fearless, sophisticated, put-together, capable, discreet, independent, playful
- traits uncooperative, amoral, demanding, overly individualistic, distrustful, paranoid, stubborn, cynical, disillusioned, can be single-minded
likes wine, the color red, stormy nights, the sound of thunder, one night stands, silk lingerie, rainstorms, stiletto heels
dislikes hot days, the ocean, large bodies of water in general, when things don't go her way, losing arguments, catching feelings
moral alignment chaotic neutral
mbti estp-a
strengths natural-born leader, agile, won't stop until she gets what she wants
weaknesses impatient, can't deal with any of her own goddamn problems, close combat
theme hold me down by halsey [ x ]
spoken languages english, french
powers retrocognition [well-controlled]; psychic communication [well-controlled]
extra still writes to her brother regularly
x
he's got me down on both knees
but it's the devil that's trying to

biography Her mother is problematic in quite a few ways, but she is a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it and she is the only god that Ophelia worships. Some might say she's blinded by her devotion to her mother. Her younger brother certainly thinks so.

Romeo is — he's soft in all the places that Ophelia is not, kind and overflowing with good intentions. He's more open when he's young, but a few years of being pushed around by playground bullies hardens his shell. He fools his schoolmates, but he can't fool her.

He is still the soft little boy that she grew up protecting, and Ophelia loves him, even if she doesn't quite understand him. The fact that they only share a mother doesn't matter; the fact that they don't share the same opinion on their mother proves a bigger barrier.

Cordelia Von Mehren is a single mother with strong opinions and an unyielding will, and she's always provided her children with everything they needed. They had never lacked in anything (or, at least, that's what Ophelia tells Romeo). Cordelia had always known what to do.

But then Ophelia hits thirteen and all of a sudden when she touches a lost doll on the sidewalk she can see the little girl who'd dropped it. Sometimes she thinks things and Romeo jerks as if he can hear her inside his head. She keeps it a secret from Cordelia until she is fifteen, and Cordelia looks at her sadly and says, "I'd hoped you were luckier than that."

She feels lucky, though. She doesn't tell her mom, but she does; how many girls her age get to be told that they're children of Gods?

Ophelia leaves for Camp Daybreak at sixteen. It's not the lighthearted journey she imagined, because fourteen-year-old Romeo grips her arm before she leaves and won't let her go. His eyes are fearful when he whispers, "You don't know what Mom's like when you're not here."

Ophelia laughs. "You're being ridiculous, Romeo. Now come on, let go — "

"Ophelia," he pleads, desperate now, and she doesn't see the fourteen-year-old boy anymore, but instead a scared child. Unease starts to creep inside her. "Please. Do your thing — see the past or whatever, just don't go."

And she's not sure exactly what she's expecting, but she's gained more control over her retrocognition now, so she grips his wrist and closes her eyes and slips into the past.

mother angry, eyes venomous, hands flailing — romeo curling into himself — "why can't you be more like ophelia?" — shattered glass on the ground (he'd told her that it was an accident, he was just clumsy) — a perfectly manicured finger pointing at two boys holding hands: "that's disgusting look at what the world's coming to" — doubt doubt doubt ophelia is there something wrong with me

She doesn't have any other choice but to go, but she kisses him on the forehead like she did when they were six-and-four. "I'll write," she promises, "and visit. You'll be fine, you're just as strong as I am." And the thing is, he is, just in different ways, but she's not sure if those different ways will help him when it comes down to it.

Ophelia's been at Camp Daybreak for four years now, and she's as much of a terror as she was outside of it. It makes her happy, something she'll never admit, but the only thing she wishes is that her brother were here with her.


.. Bad Bitch Vibes™ af
.. her aesthetic is like,, fishnet & knives... lace & bullets... the color of her lipstick on your cheek while she rips ur throat out with her teeth
.. knows what she wants & how to get it
.. is probably connected somehow to that mysterious death in ur fam like uncle boyd died for unspecified reasons?? doctors said it was a heart attack even tho he was a healthy mofo?? that was probably her
.. doesn't necessarily hate authority figures but you sure as hell have to earn her respect before you start asking her to do stuff and expect her to do it, no questions asked
.. respects v few ppl (besides herself) & still is likely to banter w/ them??? idk how you tell that she respects you tbh bc she keeps it under wraps. BUT ONCE U GET HER TO LOVE U IT'S RIDE OR DIE
.. dry & sarcastic
.. can definitely be ruthless and sometimes you probably have to tell her to chill but she's not necessarily cruel?? in the sense that she has her own warped moral compass and she follows it strictly, and she's not going to like mruder you unless you did something that made her think you deserved it??
.. (loves children & small animals pls don't tell anyone)
.. soft spot for like Pure Beans™ bc she wants to protect them from the whole goddamn world there's enough darkness w/out smothering the last rays of light left thx
.. not really the mom friend more like the Dangerous Aunt Friend™
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{
I AM STRUGGLING TO KEEP MY HEAD
ABOVE THE WATER AND IT HAS
ALWAYS BEEN TOO SHALLOW TO
DROWN IN BUT I THINK IT IS FINALLY
DEEP ENOUGH.
}
x

x

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YOU'RE THE PULSE IN MY VEINS
YOU'RE THE WAR THAT I WAGE

height 5'11" [180 cm]
weight 157 lbs [71 kg] of wiry muscle
hair russet brown, thick and wavy, his part line's almost as much of a mess as his life
eyes dark soulless brown
ethnicity russian
face claim hugh vidler
voice claim tbd
tattoos/piercings none
clothing style x x x
gallery x x x x

x
CAN YOU CHANGE ME?
(CAN YOU CHANGE ME?)

name kaspar mikhailovich
alias rarely answers to anyone calling him by his first name, usually insists you call him by his last name bc mikhailovich is one hell of a mouthful and he knows it but is an asshole
age twenty-one
birthdate july 1
place of birth boston
zodiac cancer
gender cisgender male (he/him/his)
nationality american
religion atheist
orientation greyromantic bisexual
parent ares

x
YOU'RE THE LOVE THAT I HATE
YOU'RE THE DRUG THAT I TAKE

+ traits determined, survival-oriented, intelligent, realistic, capable, pragmatic, efficient, decisive, cautious, independent
- traits ruthless, apathetic, scornful, demanding, unforgiving, reticent, stingy, harsh, self-loathing, destructive
likes the quiet but not silence, dark colors, open spaces, round rooms, heavy jackets, long-sleeved shirts, waking up early and going to sleep late, coming out on top, being left alone, black coffee, bitter foods and drinks, people who can understand that he needs to put himself first
dislikes enclosed spaces, being bothered, losing, sweet foods and drinks, hot and humid climates, holding extended conversations, small talk, loud situations, when things don't go according to plan, the feel of a knife in his hand, strong emotions, going out of control, storms, himself tbh
moral alignment chaotic neutral
mbti istj-t
strengths stealth, strategy, information gathering, hand-to-hand combat, pain tolerance through the motherfucking roof
weaknesses contests of brute strength, long-distance fighting, self-destructive, callous & doesn't care how many people get caught in the crossfire, escapist & avoids his problems
theme monster by starset [ x ]
languages spoken completely fluent in english, russian, and german
powers telekinesis [excellent control over, fairly dangerous potential]; anger empowerment [passive]; hatred empowerment [passive]; combustion inducement [undiscovered & highly dangerous]
extra hates the taste of cigarettes but stress smokes anyway

x
WILL YOU CAGE ME?
(WILL YOU CAGE ME?)

biography

[ tw: potentially sensitive themes / violence ]

" SON OF ARES,
YOU ARE DESTINED TO BE A WARZONE. "


I.

He is a boy, see, and that's what it comes down to, in the end. Too human, his beating heart more weakness than strength. He is five-almost-six (or maybe six-almost-seven, the numbers have blurred together with time), all soft and naive when his mother drops him off at the orphanage.

She leaves him in the hall and vanishes into the administrator's office, but the door is thin and flimsy and does little more than muffle her words. It definitely doesn't stop him from hearing them.

"He's a monster." Venomous, almost deranged-sounding. Is she talking about him? No, she can't be — his mother — she loves him — "A mistake. I can't look at him without — without — " An exasperated huff of breath. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

Her heels click authoritatively to the door and she wrenches it open with perfectly manicured nails, and the only thing out of place are her eyes, which are wild and full of loathing when they fall upon him, standing confusedly in the middle of the hallway.

" . . . Mommy?" he whispers hesitantly. The word tastes ashy on his tongue; he feels as if he is directing them towards a stranger.

There's a flash of regret, maybe, or else he imagined it, desperate to clutch onto anything that tells him she still loves him. The wild eyes are still there when the regret fades. They will haunt him for years to come.

"Not anymore, Kaspar," she says. "Not anymore."

When Guinevere Mikhailovich leaves, she does not look back.

II.

His first few weeks at the orphanage is nothing short of hell. He's a thin stick of a boy, wide-eyed and new, and he makes himself altogether too easy a target. He goes with too little food for a little too long, and he was never a chubby kid to begin with, so his cheekbones grow sharper and his ribcage is visible through his skin and his wrists resemble twigs, fragile and breakable.

The lady who doles out food gives him a disapproving once-over, lips pursed. Her finger taps him on the ridge of his cheekbone. "Too skinny," she utters, ladling out an extra serving of oatmeal, and he gives her a sorry excuse of a smile. It's kind of her, really, and she means well, but it's just going to get taken away from him anyway.

Still, it's not her fault.

He doesn't fight when they come over, just hands it over and flinches back. He's learned it's easier that way.

III.

And, really, he doesn't know what changed, just knows that all of a sudden it did. And it wasn't gradual, wasn't subtle; it was like a switch flipped on inside him and all of a sudden he was done.

It starts with the elbow against his throat — no, before then. It was the black spots in his vision and the way his knees shook with every step he took, and he told himself (blearily, mind unfocused, as it had been for a while now) that he couldn't keep going on like this. It was the piece of toast in his hand and the one bland bite he took and the way he needed more —

— and then they came over, and he was hungry and not thinking straight and instinct pulled his arms back, pulled the toast close to his chest.

And now he's here, pinned against the wall, and — what was his name? Jared? Johnson? Justin, that was it — Justin was sneering down at him, thirteen years old but he may as well have been twenty for all the influence he carried.

"You can choose," Justin snarls. "Easy way? Or hard way?"

Kaspar doesn't answer; he's fucking done with the easy way. He's survived on bare scraps for what — two, three years now? But it's no longer enough and they're not going to listen to him, they'll just keep taking everything he has; so he just tears out a chunk of flesh from the older boy's arm, and there's a moment or two of stunned silence before Justin howls in pain and outrage — his fists flies out and smashes into Kaspar's face, just a little off-center, but that's enough to make him go down.

Pain explodes, and it's the last thing he remembers before he crumples and everything goes black.

IV.

He may have lost the battle, but there was now a war to be won.

V.

Kaspar sheds the shy, timid boy like a skin that no longer fits, because he's fired the starting shot and there was no going back now. He is ten now, probably; but he's always been smart, so he uses it now. He knows he's not going to win in a purely physical confrontation, not with both size and numbers against him.

One of the boys in his room keeps a mirror under his pillow. Kaspar knows, because when the boy thinks no one is looking at him he takes it out and looks at it sadly for one, two, three seconds. Kaspar's a little sorry for doing this, but he doesn't see any other way.

When all the other kids have gone down to lunch, Kaspar slips the little handheld mirror out and smashes it against his dresser. He leaves the mess there but takes the largest shard (about one and a half times the size of his plam, he thinks) and slips it into his pocket.

When Justin and his posse come for him, as he knew they would, everyone looks away — as he knew they would. Kaspar doesn't wait for Justin to throw the first punch, just hits him, and it's not hard enough to knock him out but it's hard enough to make him go down and that's just what Kaspar needs.

Before Justin knows it, not-even-seventy pounds of pent-up bitterness and rage is on him — and Kaspar takes the glass shard out now, drags it from Justin's cheekbone to one corner of his lips, watches the skin split and the blood trickle without batting an eye.

Justin screams and screams and screams, and he hears a woman's voice say, "oh my god" behind him and adult hands are dragging him off — but it's a war and he's won, and when he meets Justin's eyes he hopes the other can see that there is absolutely no remorse.

He isn't sorry.

VI.

They call him "troubled."

There isn't anything they can do about it, though, and he doesn't feel like explaining himself, so he lets them think he's troubled (they're not wrong). He's not going to stay here long, anyway, but while he's here he may as well maintain his reign of terror.

Kaspar soon learns that it is better to not get caught than to do nothing bad in the first place.

VII.

He leaves the orphanage a few years later at fourteen-going-on-fifteen and survives on the street as he's been surviving all his life. The secret to success is to be brutal and not feel sorry, and the knowledge serves him well. (The second secret is to always be prepared. He keeps six knives on him at all times, just in case.)

His powers manifest a few months afterwards, when a desperate man attempts to mug the boy who looks like an easy target, and Kaspar doesn't even touch him but he crashes into a brick wall, two ribs cracking under the impact.

Kaspar pretends he isn't surprised, hisses "next time I won't be so merciful", then turns on his heel and leaves.

VIII.

The first person he kisses is a boy as dangerous as he is, grin as sharp as a knife and eyes haunted with demons. They kiss in an alleyway and Kaspar tastes fire and ash, as if one of them's burning and the other's burnt out. Nails trace flame down his skin.

It isn't gentle, it isn't kind; it is rough and it hurts but pain is the only way Kaspar knows to ground himself when his skin starts feeling like a stranger's.

He is seventeen, but he thinks he knows how Atlas feels.

The weight of the world is a heavy burden to bear.

IX.

Kaspar stumbles upon Camp Daybreak when he is nineteen. At first he thinks it is a place for lunatics and is about to leave, but then he remembers the man he threw against the wall and hesitates.

He makes the decision to stay, but he still has never quite felt at home. But, here, he hones his telekinesis and wears his loneliness like a weapon. He's claimed two weeks after he finds the camp, and he supposes it's only fitting that he turns out to be the son of Ares.

X.

He's been fighting wars so long he's forgotten what peace feels like.

" SON OF ARES,
YOU ARE DESTINED TO BE A WARZONE. "


.. insults sharper than the 700 knives he keeps on his person at any given time
.. will tear ur self-esteem apart for free and will do it to the rest of ur family tree for an extra 25 cents
.. IT'S A HARD KNOCK LIFE SON
.. has this mentality that it's a dog-eat-dog world & if he doesn't wreck everyone then he will get rekt so :/
.. lone wolf af like he really doesn't make friends or allies or whatever bc what's the point of depending on other ppl, the only person he will ever need is himself
.. really dark & morbid sense of humor??? that one guy who's like "... haha... what if we all just... like died..."
.. sometimes looks into the mirror & just wishes for the sweet embrace of death
.. RBF
.. absolutely ruthless. mercy??? what is that??? he only knows pain & suffering (& how to give it)
.. he doesn't even want to make your life Hell™ he just.. does.. and then doesn't give a fuck
.. his birth certificate was a DANGER: KEEP OUT sign
.. idk how else to establish the fact that he's an asshole & that u need to steer clear
x
 
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TELL ME WHERE IT HURTS & I WILL KISS IT BETTER
x

x

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you with the wide eyes
don't lose your courage

height smol bean @ 5'2" [157 cm]
weight 114 lbs [52 kg]
hair auburn, soft & well-maintained
eyes grey-blue, doe-eyed
ethnicity swedish/dutch/german
face claim daria milky
voice claim kristen bell
tattoos/piercings had a septum ring for a bit, but after a month or two, she decided it wasn't really for her
clothing style x x x x
gallery x x x x x

x
you swing your head high
and don't be worried

name candace felicity vanderbuilt
nicknames goes almost exclusively by candie and occasionally felicity; her full name is one that she associates with her childhood so she'd rather you not use it
age eighteen
birthdate september 24th
place of birth nyc
zodiac libra
gender cisgender female (she/her/hers)
nationality american
religion has faith & believes but no one knows in what, specifically; she probably doesn't know either lbr here
orientation panromantic demisexual
parent medusa :/

x
our heart's in a free ride
feel it beating

+ traits lively, charming, patient, well-meaning, altruistic, cheerful, enthusiastic, trustworthy, reliable, affectionate
- traits impulsive, selfless to a fault, gullible, overzealous, indecisive, talkative, naïve, sensitive, uncoordinated, easily frightened
likes her brother means everything to her; flower crowns, sweets, dresses, hummingbirds, mornings, days where the sun rises early and sets late, birdsong, carnivals, children, animals, Disney movies, happy endings
dislikes "your brother is scary/kinda an asshole/etc" :////, when wallie is too hard on himself and/or blames himself for things that aren't his fault, snakes, cliffs, heights, the rain, oversleeping, loud noises, automobiles, tragedies/tearjerkers
moral alignment lawful good
mbti enfp-a
strengths spirited in the way that nothing can't get her down, an excellent medic, makes friends easily
weaknesses wallie, any sort of combat, her blood can't heal herself, will die if she has to run two miles
theme midnight moon by oh wonder [ x ]
languages spoken just english
powers petrifying gaze [she can control it well but she hates it with a passion and so doesn't use it]; healing blood [doesn't like using this either bc a) it hurts and b) the person has to drink it but if it saves your life then]
extra carries a knife around so if she has to use the healing properties of her blood, she can easily make a cut on the tip of her finger or across her palm

x
caught in the headlights
climb to the ceiling

biography Their mother didn't bother to stick around after Candace was born, and for the longest time she thought theirs was simply the case of one-fourth of the other kids in her grade: a man or woman (normal, human, mortal) who wasn't yet ready to deal with the responsibility of a family yet.

Their father — he tried. She was sure he did, though Wallie was less convinced.

Whatever their father failed to give her in terms of care, Wallie provided. He filled every role she ever needed — brother, guardian, confidant, friend. She would never ask for anyone but him, but she was young and she didn't understand how Wallie (who was her idol, her everything) was just a boy. He was just one year older and he had too much weight on his shoulders.

Candie operated under the oh-so-false assumption that Wallie would protect her no matter what came around, that they'll always be together and never be apart (as they promised each other, late at night under the covers.)

Separation came in the form of neighbors noticing two kids and an all-but-absent father; by then, Wallie was legally an adult (though just barely) and Candie was not, so they take her away and put her in an all-girls home until she hit eighteen.

(She remembers crying, begging them not to take herbrotherawayfromher/her away from her brother, but they don't listen and she loses the person who is the one constant in her life.)


.. literally goes by candy/candie that should tell u like everything about her
.. so sweet she will give you a cavity is2fg
.. smol enthusiastic bean who often needs to chill
.. loves plants but like??? she kills them. all of them. every single fucking plant she touches. they literally wilt underneath her fingers and she cries
.. BROTP!!!
.. daughter of medusa & will awkwardly avoid answering any questions about her godly parent ever bc like,, she's ashamed tbh. everyone w their cool-ass parents and she's here like "my mom was caught bangin poseidon in athena's temple so she was cursed w snake hair :/"
.. cries every time she watches the Titanic
.. has every single disney song memorized & could spout them off instantaneously if asked
.. don't ask her, for ur sake
.. can't swim
.. played pokemon go & was on team instinct
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19
12/31
capricorn




female
demi
pan


timber leone algate
≡ alias: everyone's afraid of her idk
≡ pob: burlington, vt
≡ nationality: american
≡ religion: agnostic
≡ parent: phrike

≡ faceclaim: gina vaia
≡ height: 5'7"
≡ weight: 145lbs
≡ hair color: blonde
≡ eye color: blue
≡ voiceclaim: holly henry
≡ tattoos/piercings: roman numerals on one arm and a heart on the other
≡ distinguishing marks/features: various scars along her body
≡ clothing style: x

≡ + traits: assertive, confident, discretion, refinement, valor
≡ - traits: clingy, insecure, malicious, damaged, violent
≡ likes: hunting, cuddling????, killing :\\\, ander, watching the sunrise
≡ dislikes: bears, herself, what she does, being abandoned, crying
≡ moral alignment: chaotic neutral
≡ mbti: entj-t
≡ strengths: murder, hunting, getting information, teaching
≡ weaknesses: literally refuses to sleep, her brother, children, self destructive

≡ theme song: x
≡ spoken languages: english, greek, latin
monsters are forged from the ice of mother's blood
tw: s*icide, m*rder

the daughter of phrike, conceived in a nightmare. the algate siblings, nearly three years apart, both damaged in their own ways. the youngest, more visibly than her elder brother.

her mother saw her strength from an early age, and used her fears to manipulate her into the perfect warrior. the child was gifted the with fear manipulation and pain manipulation. she was the perfect solider. the girl didn't feel pain, she was unafraid. except of her mother.

she was six when her mother began her twisted training. phrike manipulated her pleasure neurons to make her feel joy when she took a life. made the images of each life repeat in her mind over and over again as she slept. the blood on her hands spilling over.

her elder brother tried to stop it, tried to protect her, but he couldn't. the wedge grew quickly between them. it was furthered when he became her target.

at age sixteen timber watched eider bleed from the wound she inflicted. she ran, unsure of whether or not he survived. he was not home when she returned upon her mother's instructions. the man who raised her was next. richard algate. he knew what was coming, and accepted it. "i tried." the last words spilling from his lips.

the break came at the age of eighteen when her bloodstained lips spoke to the heavens. "mother are you proud of me yet?" she didn't get an answer. there was nothing to anchor her. nothing to save her from herself. from the self destruction. her attempts to finally free herself of her mother. her failures.

a red stained blur in her memory before she stumbled into camp, covered in blood - half of it hers. anyone who looked at her was already afraid, but she channeled and amplified it all. she needed help, and she didn't know how to ask for it. she just wanted eider. she just wanted to feel safe.

one year later, she wasn't afraid of anyone but herself.

 
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⇣-----⇣-----⇣-----⇣-----⇣​
beautiful, violent, vulgar
ʜ ᴇ ɪ ɢ ʜ ᴛ ⇢ six feet ; one hundred and eighty-two cm ; broad torso ; steps on smol people

ᴡ ᴇ ɪ ɢ ʜ ᴛ ⇢ one hundred and fifty-four lbs ; seventy kg

ʜ ᴀ ɪ ʀ ⇢ butterscotch ; pale blonde ; long quiff ; well groomed

ᴇ ʏ ᴇ ꜱ ⇢ baby blue ; grey hues ; almond shaped

ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴘ ʟ ᴇ x ɪ ᴏ ɴ ⇢ natural beige ; neutral undertones ; even

ᴅ ɪ ꜱ ᴛ. ꜰ ᴇ ᴀ ᴛ ⇢ sharp eyes ; set jaw ; delicate nose and thinner lips

ᴠ ᴏ ɪ ᴄ ᴇ ᴄ ʟ ᴀ ɪ ᴍ ⇢ chris wood, ‘kai parker’

ᴛ ᴀ ᴛ ᴛ ᴏ ᴏ s & ᴘ ɪ ᴇ ʀ ᴄ ɪ ɴ ɢ s ⇢ crossed rose tattoo on his right, outer wrist ; diamond stud always in his left ear ; plans on getting many more tattoos

ꜰ ᴀ ᴄ ᴇ ᴄ ʟ ᴀ ɪ ᴍ ⇢ neels visser

ᴄ ʟ ᴏ ᴛ ʜ ɪ ɴ ɢ s ᴛ ʏ ʟ ᴇ ⇢ dark grunge ; blacks, skulls, flowers, very guns n roses, necklaces, et cetera ; rings to knock your teeth out


made by satan
ɴ ᴀ ᴍ ᴇ
caelius nero angelis

ᴀ ʟ ɪ ᴀ s
cae — nero — angel (used exclusively by his nonna) — despicable psychotic asshole™

ᴀ ɢ ᴇ
twenty-five

ᴅ ᴏ ʙ
november sixth

ᴘ ᴏ ʙ
umbria, italy

ᴢ ᴏ ᴅ ɪ ᴀ ᴄ
scorpio

ɢ ᴇ ɴ ᴅ ᴇ ʀ
cisgender male

ɴ ᴀ ᴛ ɪ ᴏ ɴ ᴀ ʟ ɪ ᴛ ʏ
greek — italian

ʀ ᴇ ʟ ɪ ɢ ɪ ᴏ ɴ
agnostic

ᴏ ʀ ɪ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ ᴀ ᴛ ɪ ᴏ ɴ
demiromantic omnisexual

ᴘ ᴀ ʀ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ
mania, goddess of insanity


i am my demon
ʜ ɪ s ᴛ ᴏ ʀ ʏ
ᴄʜ. ɪ -- ᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛ ᴏꜰ ɪɴsᴀɴɪᴛʏ.​
-----( M ) ania was the personification of raw madness. the creator of the madman, bringer of rage and insanity. an ambiguous deity — demon, to some -- that could break a wholesome man with terrible deeds. why such a powerful existence would breed and fabricate a son equally as maddening needed no explanation nor reason. why she was never present in his life, however, made perfect sense. she didn't need to physically be there to influence him. she was conceptual, more of an abstract being to him. babies, it occurred to her, don’t survive off of abstract supremacy. mania left her product of insanity to an elder women in umbria, italy, not far from the old etruscan civilization that worshipped her roman counterpart. she raised caelius as his ‘nonna,’ and never needed to tell him that they were not blood related. his looks alone set him apart from everyone in umbria — his fine, almost petite features clashed substantially with the typical dark hair and roman noses.

-----he may have appeared more delicate, but he certainly was not. far from it, in fact. when the kids on the playground teased him, his immediate reaction was to tackle and crush them. and that’s how it was from the time he was little to now.

-----the extent to which caelius interacted with his peers in high school was limited, to say the least. it only ever happened when they were a) trying to screw him, b) start something with him, or c) antagonize him. otherwise, caelius was a half-drunk arse roaming the halls once or twice a week if his grandmother felt well enough to chase him out of the house. the only person other than her and his random, late-night conquests that he spent time with was a boy named severin.

ᴄʜ. ɪɪ -- ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴡɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ.​
-----( C ) aelius’ sickening desire to mar and deface those closest to him was only sated by destroying — as one might expect — their sanity. his course of action was always to strike them where it would hurt most. his target at seventeen? his best friend; severin aloise. not simply a ‘close friend.’ far more than that. there lay a bond the locals of their town would regard as unholy. but caelius didn't care — up until severin decided that such a relationship couldn't be carried on, so he needed to find a kind, pretty girl to regain his esteem; thus putting him at the very tip-top of caelius’ ever evolving hit-list. they played like nothing ever happened, just two friends raising hell on otherwise quiet streets.

-----caelius always held an innate affinity for alcohol. he drank it most days, even at school — when he bothered to make an appearance. after numerous get-togethers, he managed to have severin hooked on it. then came other things. if severin was going to worry about his ‘image’ so much, caelius would destroy it. he would provide severin with anything and everything you could imagine, until the boy couldn't go a day without it.

-----he didn't mean to kill severin. but he was practically the drug that did it, in the end. being so hurt had awakened his abilities, which them clung to severin. they drove the boy mad. they made him do things severin wouldn't have done otherwise.

-----caelius loved every second of it. he bathed in the glory of watching severin fall. but things went from bad to worse in a flash of unchecked rage. caelius' abilities made severin reckless. he was no longer the sweet boy everyone loved; he was a thief, a daredevil. he did stupid things — that which eventually killed him in a drunk car accident.

-----caelius wouldn't say he loved severin. it was more of an unhealthy obsession. caelius couldn't stand the thought of being turned away. and the results of that, obviously, can be fatal.

ᴄʜ. ɪɪɪ -- ᴅᴀᴢᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜsᴇᴅ.​
-----( S ) everin dying didn’t stop caelius. maybe it hurt the slightest bit, something he would never say aloud, but he quickly moved on. his focus at nineteen was on his nonna and her failing health. he tried to be a ‘good boy’ and take care of her. the hunger urging him to mess everything up was simply too strong. if he wasn’t aiding her at home, he was partying, smoking, drinking, stealing, lying, destroying someone’s life. he stole cars. he ruined his neighbors daughters (and sons). it all made him feel complete, somehow.

-----his nonna passed away on a tuesday morning. caelius lost every bit of sense he didn’t have to begin with. he couldn’t keep himself from breaking things. he was so disturbed he couldn’t attend her funeral. following her death, caelius led that same ‘party hard’ lifestyle. he would purposefully get people hooked on his craziness so that they, too, would ruin themselves.

-----upon finding out about his parentage, his spasmodic nature made a lot more sense. perhaps if he hadn’t been created from insanity he could have done things differently. he could have let severin go, taken better care of his nonna, got better grades in school, rather than drinking and driving everyone crazy.

-----he feels like camp is school all over again; one he can’t skip everyday. caelius only enjoys it if he’s making the most of it -- and if he is, then someone might just get hurt. regarding the hybrids, caelius doesn’t mind them at all. they aren’t a concern for him. he never really feels unsafe when he’s constantly doing unsafe, perilous things.

ᴘ ᴇ ʀ s ᴏ ɴ ᴀ

ᴀɴ ᴀɴɢᴇʟ
ᴀssᴇʀᴛɪᴠᴇ ; ᴅᴀᴜɴᴛʟᴇss ; ᴀsᴛᴜᴛᴇ ; sᴏʟɪᴄɪᴛᴏᴜs ; ʀᴇʟɪᴀʙʟᴇ ; ʙᴇɢᴜɪʟɪɴɢ
protective af

ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ
ɴᴇᴜʀᴏᴛɪᴄ ; ᴛʀᴜᴄᴜʟᴇɴᴛ ; ɪᴍᴘɪsʜ ; ɢʀᴇᴇᴅʏ ; ᴇɢᴏɪsᴛɪᴄ ; ᴄᴀᴜsᴛɪᴄ ; ɪʀᴀsᴄɪʙʟᴇ
sketchy af

[/i]

a little ray of pitch black
ʟ ɪ ᴋ ᴇ s
heavy rain, thunder ; valerian root tea ; chamomile tea blended with lavender ; lavender and vanilla scents ; satin ; light purple and black ; sweet and spicy foods ; jack daniels/jack and coke ; mazda rx7 ; led zeppelin ; guns n roses ; pink floyd ; weezer ; hair pulling, biting /smacked ; his accessories ; tattoos

ᴅ ɪ s ʟ ɪ ᴋ ᴇ s
sour candies ; arguments he can't win, but he'll certainly say he did ; sunshine and rainbows lmao ; modern pop ; don't touch his necklaces or his face ; small animals are so useless

ᴍ ᴏ ʀ ᴀ ʟ - ᴀ ʟ ɪ ɢ ɴ ᴍ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ
chaotic neutral

ᴍ ʙ ᴛ ɪ
entj ; 'the commander'

s ᴛ ʀ ᴇ ɴ ɢ ʜ ᴛ s
professional sinner, self-confident, indomitable, physically could snap your wrist, shanking (homemade knives) and wielding such weapons

ᴡ ᴇ ᴀ ᴋ ɴ ᴇ s s ᴇ s
cogent -- you might jump off a bridge if he says it's a good idea, obstinate, testy, seafood (allergy), back rubs

ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴍ ᴇ
x. rip to my youth x. party monster x. novocaine x. hotel california

ʟ ᴀ ɴ ɢ ᴜ ᴀ ɢ ᴇ s
latin / italian / English

ᴘ ᴏ ᴡ ᴇ ʀ s
chaos embodiment & insanity inducement
embodying chaos consumes a lot of strength, and requires a lot of inner turmoil from the host. while caelius isn't lacking in insanity this ability he still hasn't mastered. if he's feeling extremely upset, it can pop out all on it's own, in which case tranquilizing him may be the only way to stop it.

caelius has insanity inducement down pat. he'll certainly enjoy tormenting enemies with it.





( D ) a m a g e d
( adj. ) broken; marred by imperfections; to have experienced harm or destruction


Son of ( M ) ania
goddess of insanity & madness
 
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&& requisite
FULL NAME: gemini apalla rutherford
ALIAS: gem - by some
AGE: 20
DATE OF BIRTH: october 31
PLACE OF BIRTH: la, ca
NATIONALITY: american
RELIGION: idk
GENDER: female
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: panromantic
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: pansexual
PARENT: diana

&& appearance
FACECLAIM: fatherkels
HEIGHT: 5'6" of badass
WEIGHT: 123 lbs
HAIR COLOR: pink
EYE COLOR: brown
VOICECLAIM: nina dobrev
TATTOOS: x x x
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: a scar across her stomach
STYLE: x

&& persona
POSITIVE TRAITS: affable, precise, loyal, precise, intelligent
NEGATIVE TRAITS: bloodthirsty, reckless, arrogant, unforgiving, narcissistic
LIKES: hunting, swimming, archery, talking to ghosts, keenan
DISLIKES: you, heat, herself, ander telling her what to do, being alone
MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good
MBTI: intp-t

&& other
THEME SONG: x
SKILLS: archery, herbal knowledge, art, being a badass
WEAKNESSES: comebacks, her loved ones, thinking ahead, making friends tbh
FEARS: losing those she loves, being a leader, failing, dying in dishonor
WEAPON OF CHOICE: bow and arrow, or a dagger if needed
POWERS: mystokinesis, healing, necrosight
&& requisite
FULL NAME: sirius apollo rutherford
ALIAS: siri - he hates it
AGE: 20
DATE OF BIRTH: october 31
PLACE OF BIRTH: la, ca
NATIONALITY: american
RELIGION: idk
GENDER: male
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: hetero
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: hetero
PARENT: diana

&& appearance
FACECLAIM: dylan jordan
HEIGHT: 6'3"
WEIGHT: 173 lbs
HAIR COLOR: brown
EYE COLOR: blue
VOICECLAIM: stephen mcqueen
TATTOOS: a matching anchor with gemini
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: dat face



the rutherford twins

the goddess of fertility grew tired of only giving others children, she grew to desire her own. so came a short romance, a love so strong it could have moved mountains. the products were twin cries on a stormy halloween. she was only able to see them for a short time, before she had to leave them. he was told she died during childbirth, an unforeseen complication. his mourning turned to blame, blaming those two innocents for the loss of the woman he had loved.

he ignored their presence most of the time. until they became inconvenient, embarrassing. they had imaginary friends that carried too late into their lives. they weren't making friends in school. it got to the point that he wanted to have them committed, clearly there was something wrong with them if they were talking to people who weren't there. their grandmother, ella, stepped in and told him to let them live with her for awhile.

she was convinced they had a gift, a gift of sight. how right she was. they lived there for two short years, learning wicca from her, before their father died in a car accident. suddenly, they were the owners of his company - but thanks to their legal ages they did not have to do anything within the company, it was left to their grandmother in their place. the funeral is where they met the satyr who told them they were of divine lineage.

under ella's intense encouragement they went to camp daybreak. sirius was nervous, but gemini promised to keep him safe and sound. they made more dead friends than living, but found themselves fitting in - more or less - within a short time. she became almost feared, her skills with a bow and apathy towards opponents was nerve wracking for anyone who sparred with her. he was a social butterfly, on the other hand, and often seemed to be the life of the party.

in the seven years since their arrival they have found their people. they were two of the only campers who didn't turn their backs on ander when he found out his true lineage. he was still ander, after all. the son of a monster found his way into gemini's heart, and sirius couldn't have been happier about it. the daughter of athena was one of their closest companions.

they were safe, they were happy.

dear brother; you are the best part of me.
dear sister; you light the way.
 
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R O W E N
a little bit wicked.

≡ name: rowen rayne richards
≡ alias: rowen rayne richards
≡ age: 21
≡ dob: november 13
≡ pob: eugene, oregon
≡ zodiac: scorpio
≡ gender: female
≡ nationality: american
≡ religion: deist
≡ romantic orientation: hetero
≡ sexual orientation: demi
≡ parent: hades; unclaimed


≡ faceclaim: no i'm not telling u pls leave her alone
≡ height: 5'7"
≡ weight: 123lbs
≡ hair color: black
≡ eye color: brown
≡ voiceclaim: allison scagliotti
≡ tattoos/piercings:
x
- each one represents someone special and she adds a new one when someone is important to her
≡ distinguishing marks/features: button nose, rbf
≡ clothing style:
x
≡ + traits: resilience, honest, passionate, nurturing, protective
≡ - traits: vanity, malicious, manipulative, sinful, wild
≡ likes: cats, plants, donovan, when people are scared of her, freedom
≡ dislikes: abusive assholes, people who are rude to laurel, rai's stupidity, people who don't recycle, yelling
≡ moral alignment: chaotic neutral
≡ mbti: entp-t
≡ strengths: throwing knives and chains, seduction, plant identification, navigation
≡ weaknesses: laurel/donovan/caci, not physically strong, or emotionally oops, her powers are Wild
≡ powers: netherkinesis; she has no idea what the full extent is, as they usually don't work



trigger warning: abuse of various types, s*icide mentions, death

love, a four letter word that has so many blurred meanings. a four letter word that was just as easily a weapon as it was a declaration of affection.

a four letter word spoken by day to a husband who didn't know where his wife was spending her night. it certainly wasn't at a business conference, despite what he believed. in the arms of a lover, a lover who was so far from human. the woman couldn't tell the difference.

they weren't supposed to be twins, yet, here they were. a pair of screaming infants, only seemingly at peace when their tiny fingers were touching the other. their mother didn't want to hold her, she had already lined up an adoption. her husband didn't even realize there had been two, he hadn't been there. he wouldn't be there again, not after finding out where she spent her time away.

so the little girl screamed for her brother, lost in her own misery before she even had a chance to know what misery was. never knowing she had a brother and a sister who would have loved her, kept her safe. instead she had herself and her own internal darkness.

rowen rayne richards, an innocent doomed before she was even born. eliza richards was a doctor with the most compassionate soul anyone could hope for in a mother. she was good to her newfound daughter, and they had an incredibly close relationship. that's not to say they didn't fight sometimes. at the end of the day it was always okay.

her powers began to show at the age of sixteen, but she never realized what was happening. it wasn't uncommon for her to become agitated for no real reason, but this time the darkness that flowed through her was too extreme. she was angry, and she said things she regretted. her last words were an apology before the bridge collapsed around them during the earthquake. eliza didn't make it, rowen barely did.

blame, a game played over and over. misery, an endless cycle. abuse, a more violent experience than she would have seen coming.

she had a new foster family just about every month. the good ones didn't last long enough, the bad ones lasted too long. she was seventeen when she finally ran, during a storm that came from nowhere. she was on her own for a month, before her eighteenth birthday brought theo.

she thrived in his attention, withered in his abuse. she was innocent before, but he ripped all of it away from her. used love as a weapon, manipulated her, belittled her, praised her. a cycle.

she was six months pregnant, at twenty, and she was finally awakened. his hands had wrapped around her throat, and she had released a dark energy she'd never felt before. it felt good watching him fall, watching him suffer. the house was wrecked, and the energy was too much for her. she managed to get out and away. waking up three days later in the camp, two months after her birthday.

unclaimed and barely stable, she found solitude in the persephone cabin one month later, with another camper who had arrived recently. three months after her arrival came laurel, the only thing in her life that she knew would be there forever. another cactus joined her mother's on her arm, and two months later two more came in the representation of her best friend and the only man she's ever felt safe near.
 
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I'M NOT ANGRY, YOU'RE STUPID


sing little song bird, sing

name ;; acacia wren bond

age ;; 19

gender ;; female

birthday ;; december 29

zodiac ;; capricorn

pob ;; kalamazoo, michigan

nationality ;; american

religion ;; ????

romantic orientation ;; bi

sexual orientation ;; gray-ace

parent ;; persephone

fc ;; nyla lueeth

height ;; 5'6"

weight ;; 125lbs

hair ;; black

eyes ;; brown

voiceclaim ;; kat graham

body mods ;; none

distinguishing marks ;; n/a

style ;;
xxx





persona ;;;
≡ + traits: caring, empathetic, diligent, independent, nonviolent
≡ - traits: pessimistic, grumpy, sarcastic, blunt, cold
≡ likes: pomegranates, flowers, winter, storms, people being scared of her
≡ dislikes: violence, hot weather, people touching her hair, people asking to touch her hair, leave her damn hair alone, also she dislikes you
≡ moral alignment: chaotic neutral
≡ mbti: esfp-t
≡ strengths: fighting, singing, emotionally detached most of the time, can literally scare someone with one look
≡ weaknesses: rai, pacifist, scared of her powers, no self control
≡ quirks: makes flower crowns for her friends, plays with her hair when she's scared, bites her lip when she's thinking, rolls her eyes more than i do and that's a lot, can't roll her fucking r's
≡ powers: nature manipulation, death sense, mediumship, soul manipulation - unknown

≡ theme song:
youth
-
winter bird

≡ spoken languages: english, broken spanish, some russian phrases she picked up in juvie


biography ;;;
acacia was born an orphan. a late springtime tryst to soothe the loneliness a goddess felt after being taken from her husband. she was not a victim of hades, she was a victim of her mother's overbearing protectiveness. her unwillingness to let go.

the product was a little bundle of joy who was left on the doorstep of an orphanage with tears dotting the blanket she was wrapped in. her tiny hands reaching for the enigma that was her mother. she came to them with a name, the surname was the alias her mother had used so frequently, and note with an apology.

acacia grew up alone, bouncing from place to place. she wasn't unhappy, despite it all. the caged bird sings the most, they say. she was happy, optimistic, friendly. until she moved into a group home full of little girls who wanted nothing more than to cause the little songbird pain.

they bullied her, pulled her hair, stole from her. acacia didn't do anything, she was too kind. until one day, after a particularly good beating, she snapped. some say only the whites of her eyes were visible. some say she had to have been possessed. others say she was just tired of the bullying.

in the end, it didn't matter. the other girls got away with it, while acacia found herself in juvie. the caged bird stopped singing at the tender age of sixteen.

she arrived at camp on her eighteenth birthday, and was claimed by persephone.

feed ;;;
tumblr_oohk301wJ51ul6n0wo1_1280.png
 
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≡ name: reuben maximus fawzi
≡ alias: sandwich - pls no
≡ age: 23
≡ dob: march 9
≡ pob: ny, ny
≡ zodiac: pisces
≡ gender: male
≡ nationality: american
≡ religion: ???
≡ romantic orientation: pan
≡ sexual orientation: pan
≡ parent: venus

≡ faceclaim: yousseff sawmah
≡ height: 6'3"
≡ weight: 172lbs
≡ hair color: black
≡ eye color: blue/beautiful
≡ voiceclaim: yousseff sawmah
≡ tattoos/piercings: none, surprisingly (but he'll give you a tattoo if you want)
≡ distinguishing marks/features: his TEETH
≡ clothing style: i'm too lazy to make a pinterest board but it's mostly casual okay

≡ + traits: benevolent, caring, flirty, honest, nurturing
≡ - traits: vapid, ruthless, jealous, bottler, trash
≡ likes: gardens, mirrors, museums, the beach, elspy
≡ dislikes: bigots, reuben sandwiches, "stupid ass people who think global warming is fake," rejection, "insulting someone else's appearance, who the fuck are you??? my mom???"
≡ moral alignment: neutral good
≡ mbti: isfp-t
≡ strengths: athletics, art, flirting, talking his way out of situations
≡ weaknesses: fighting tbh, jealousy ??, those he cares about, controlling his arrogance
≡ powers: pheromone manipulation (he doesn't even realize???), animation, flower manipulation

≡ theme song: x
≡ spoken languages: arabic, english, greek


tw: racism

the goddess of love and beauty was never one for keeping herself chained to one lover, and for that she had many children. one of which was a young man named reuben. his father died when he was barely two months old and with no other family to turn to, he was left in his grandparents' care. his life was never easy no matter how hard they tried.

growing up with brown skin was hard enough, growing up bilingual with your second tongue being arabic?
nearly impossible. it was difficult, but he didn't let it stop him. it was bearable, with the help of an equally scrawny friend.

until the towers were destroyed. he was merely a child, but he was blamed for an action he did not fully understand. his skin became a precursor for everything. his religion assumed to be islam - despite not practicing. his grandparents were deeply religious, and his fear for them grew each day.

it got to the point that he had to switch schools, but instead he opted for home school. he would rather spend his time learning in the safety of his garden than in a school where he may as well have a target on his back.
the fawzi family was a happy one, and he loved every second of his life.

his grandparents died together in their sleep when he was sixteen. it was a week later that he was taken to camp, where he reunited with the same scrawny boy who had been beaten up to stick up for his friend. he felt at peace, and found himself as the teacher of art history within a few years of being there. he didn't realize it would be possible to be so content with life, when you weren't afraid of being killed over your skin color.

flowers grow back,
even after they're stepped on.
so will i.
 
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he in his madness prays for storms, and dreams that storms will bring him peace.
"in the end, i want you to know, with every fiber of your being, that none of this was your fault. you are not the devil, you are a boy; a distressed, lonely boy. there are no horns on your head, but a broken halo. your eyes don't burn red, they're a vast ocean, and deep in its heart is the same person you were when life did you right. you are still you. you are still human."tw: m*rder
his mother couldn't be held responsible for not completely knowing the power the man in her bed held the night she clung to whoever gave her a second thought. she wasn't herself, enveloped in a desperation for the missed acknowledgement of her own family, and yet the man, though not at all human, brought the very calm she desired. he replaced wild thoughts with those of warmer context, and left her with something she could cherish even when he wasn't around anymore. her first born brought a pleasant meaning to life again, but it was only up until he was long out of the house that his origins caught up to him.

they were a small family before addison was born, filling another empty seat at the breakfast table despite how she got there. their mother simply aspired for the affection of people she couldn't have, effectively passing that subtly toxic trait down to her dear son. carter grew up with little conflict regardless of being a little shit to his sister out of his love for her. while they only shared a mother, the eldest wanted nothing more than to see her flourish. and, truthfully, she did, for addison was far better off between the two of them once they were older. carter, however, dug himself his fair share of holes.

he was a smart kid, scrounging up a big future, but dismissed college when the offer rolled around and he just wasn't feeling up for the commitment. perhaps he was stupid for wanting something a little more than a piece of framed paper. then again, if he hadn't, he wouldn't have met hadlee, or jarrod, or saffron for that matter. no matter how idiotic it seemed at the time, his supposedly wrong choices led him to an undeniably content life - give or take several moments in which forgetting wasn't such a bad thing.

one halloween party led to his first real love, and the irony of meeting his second only a few years later was something of a joke. he had a thing for people he couldn't keep, which meant falling for a girl who cheated behind his back was the perfect lie for him. in fact, he did it too, taking up the company of a new boy in town like it'd fill the growing void without really filling anything at all. carter mixed love for pain, and pretended things would fix themselves if it overwhelmed itself. though he didn't think it'd overwhelm him, let alone unleash an underlying gift his dear father passed on without a convenient warning stamped anywhere.

it happened in the midst of his cries at one familiar door. his tatted hands were curled into fists against the wooden barrier between the one person he thought he could love. he called things off with jarrod long before, never really loving the male to begin with, and gripped to the last thing he had to his sanity - without knowing how true that statement was. the idea that they could still fix whatever they were was far-flung, but he was willing to do anything. it was her goodbye that broke him, making him literally fall to his knees, and severing the hope he had as it was flooded with a sense of loss he couldn't cope with instead. she was scared of who he was becoming, but so was he. for how screwed up the world around him was, carter was desperate for an understanding at least somewhere in his life, and yet all he found that night was the reflection of himself in the rear view mirror; there were only tear stained cheeks and crimson pupils to contrast all that he was while boston grew farther behind him.

carter left without much of a farewell other than that of his ex, which still pained him to think about for another halloween until fate decided to show him a bit of kindness in the form of a dark-haired vixen. she was his ecstasy when he was on the verge of an inevitable spiral. but, their meeting was less than ideal, and frankly scarred the idea of summer camps indefinitely. what was supposed to be an anniversary celebration for an infamously old campground became the end for many that attended. they entered as two separate souls, both defeated in their own right, but left a following christmas party as one, mending each other piece by piece every time they touched, and reveling in their lighter abilities. two young gods in all sense of the phrase.

carter vowed to protect her despite being one of the things he wished to protect her from. he felt as though he didn't deserve her, and the feeling was reciprocated vice versa. they left towns to burn behind them while their parentage and gifts made themselves more evident. throwdowns in parking lots that he couldn't snap out of ensured a new place on the map. uncontrolled magic some nights lead to more motels on the side of the road. nothing ever lasted longer than a month or two, but it was the blood on carter's hands one afternoon in specific that left them no other choice than to stop running once and for all.

he didn't want to remember, but he didn't want to stay in the shadow of his dark actions either. saffron had only been gone for a few hours, yet somehow within that short time every chance they had at some odd definition of normality slipped right between their fingers in the color of deep red. one way or another, jarrod found out about what carter really was, following the recognition of saffron shortly after, and a threat to expose the demigods was pushed against him in a literal sense. loud arguing was heard behind the old motel door before there were crashes. and suddenly everything was silent until gravel crunched under saffron's tires. the carpet was no longer beige, nor did his skin hold a pigment other than stained red. blood that clearly wasn't his as he sat before the body.

"tell me i'm not a bad person. please. because i think i'm losing my mind."

he was claimed shortly after they stepped foot into camp daybreak, as if it were some pity call out for how far astray carter had ended up. one camp was scar enough, but a second that acted as salvation for kids like him wasn't easily bought by the male. it wasn't until his second day that an old face he left behind returned in a strong embrace, ignoring the details of how either of them got there for as long as they could. in all the hell, carter's simply grasping at the little heaven he has left.

name ∧ carter isaac white
alias ∧ n/a he's been there for two days please
age ∧ twenty-two
dob ∧ november 15
pob ∧ boston, massachusetts
zodiac ∧ scorpio
gender ∧ cismale [he/him]
nationality ∧ american
religion ∧ agnostic
romantic orientation ∧ demi
sexual orientation ∧ bi
parent ∧ dionysus; greeek god of wine, fertility, madness/mental illness, and a patron of the arts

faceclaim ∧ cole mohr
height ∧ 6'2"
weight ∧ 169 lbs.
hair ∧ umber brown
eyes ∧ blue
voiceclaim ∧ jean-luc bilodeau
tattoos ∧ l o l
distinguishing marks/features ∧ faint freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks, high cheekbones af
clothing stylexx
+ traits ∧ appreciative, guile, self-effacing, candor, insouciant
- traits ∧ intemperance, abrasive, dependent, envious, regretful
likes ∧ anything at night, ignoring problems tbh, holding hands because he's actually pure, the cold, pointless conversations at 3 AM
dislikes ∧ the dionysus cabin, himself, sleeping alone, lies, mornings
moral alignment ∧ chaotic neutral
mbti ∧ isfj-t
strengths ∧ escaping tense situations, endurance, close combat, running/sprinting
weaknesses ∧ saffron, control over himself, gathering his thoughts, zoning out, long distance combat
powersalcohol manipulation (controlled), feral mind (controlled to an extent; constant blackouts; red eyes usually warn its use)
theme human - jon bellion
spoken languages ∧ english, spanish, and a bit of french

carter1.jpg c.png carter2.jpg carter3.jpg
 
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≡ name: saffron nevada castillion
≡ alias: saff - only by carter, ronnie - honestly you shouldn't call her this
≡ age: 19
≡ dob: november 1
≡ pob: concord, nh
≡ zodiac: scorpio
≡ gender: female
≡ nationality: american
≡ religion: ???
≡ romantic orientation: pan
≡ sexual orientation: pan
≡ parent: tezcatlipoca

≡ faceclaim: giza lagarce
≡ height: 5'10"
≡ weight: 118lbs
≡ hair color: brown
≡ eye color: brown
≡ voiceclaim: giza lagarce
≡ tattoos/piercings: n/a
≡ distinguishing marks/features: her face
≡ clothing style: x

≡ + traits: intuitive, precise, charismatic, loyal, protective
≡ - traits: apathetic, vainglory, self-loathing, savage, irritable
≡ likes: gardens, feeling secure, sleeping in cars, reading
≡ dislikes: rules, not knowing if carter is safe, feeling helpless, heights, spiders
≡ moral alignment: chaotic neutral
≡ mbti: intj-a
≡ strengths: planning, navigation, manipulation, lowkey legal genius
≡ weaknesses: highkey claustrophobic, carter, her family, controlling her magic
≡ powers: omni-magic, but she doesn't really know everything about it -- and her father won't let her access necromancy

≡ theme song: x
≡ spoken languages: english, spanish, japanese


the castillion family was far from perfect. their first child, marisol, a product of her mother's affair. their second, alexander, their father's affair. their third, saffron, believed to be the product of the married couple was instead the daughter of a god. their parents hated each other, and the blatant cold front in the house made it obvious. the children ignored each other.

in fact, it wasn't until their grandmother - alaska - reopened a long closed camp that they began to bond. their grandmother had practiced witchcraft for years, and taught the craft to saffron - and attempted with the other two, who found it to be ridiculous - over the years. the chill between the siblings may have ended but it didn't make things completely warm, either. alexander and marisol tended to exclude their younger sister for no reason other than her practices.

saffron was seventeen when her world shifted entirely. it came in the form of her boyfriend, sean, and his drunk friends causing her car to crash. first, she realized that feelings that had once been there so strongly faded the moment he took his last breath. then in the form of learning who her biological father was. tezcatlipoca.

her cries to the heaven rang clear on that cold december night. she was invited to camp then but refused,
staying at her grandmother's instead. nearly one year later she met carter on a halloween weekend. she knew in that moment what it felt like to want someone without magic being involved. the bliss of the feeling of infatuation didn't last, before an old curse was reawakened and her sister's possession lead to the death of their grandmother, a cousin they did not know they had, and almost all of the other campers.

carter, alexander, and saffron were the only survivors. a spell to release the possession killed marisol, after she fought to keep the demon at bay long enough for saffron to cast the spell. unable to accept the fact that everyone's last memories of marisol would be of her as a killer, she casted a memory spell on alexander and carter - convincing them that it had been her magic that had killed everyone that night.

come her birthday, she was told to leave. she did, and a little over a month later she found herself reunited with carter. she didn't expect to fall in love, she didn't expect to run away with him, she didn't expect the spell to break, for him to remember. in all honesty, she didn't think what they had was possible without magic.

they protected each other, they took care of each other. the running would eventually end, with them blood on both of their hands by the end of it all. mud in their boots from an unmarked grave, and one last night in a motel, before they found their way to the camp she was invited into what seemed like lifetimes ago.

"if you're a bad person, then i'm a monster."

two days into her time at camp, and she's already sick of it.

it was her chaos that made her beautiful
- atticus -
 
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k e e n a n // o r r e l
name►keenan mikhail orrel
alias►n/a
age►twenty-two
dob►october 25
pob►covington, virginia
zodiac►scorpio
gender►cismale (he/him/his)
nationality►american
religion►agnostic
romantic orientation►panromantic
sexual orientation►heterosexual
parent►an empuse/empousa

faceclaim►roman kerimov
height►6'2"
weight►173 lbs.
hair color►bleach white
eye color►dark brown
voiceclaim►ian somerhalder
tattoos/piercings►several..xx
distinguishing marks/features►pouted lips for days
clothing stylexx

+ traits►considerate, sincere, selfless, intuitive, tenacious
- traits►resentful, argumentative, haughty, opportunistic, deceptive
likes►rock climbing, dusk, bonfires, mildly showing off, bold gestures
dislikes►failing, overbearing orders, reckless abandon (how hypocritical), silence, promises
moral alignment►chaotic neutral
mbti►estp-t
strengths►lying, dual-wield combat, orienteering, tracking
weaknesses►coping with strong emotions, prioritizing, gemini, politics

powersblood manipulation, fire augmentation (unknown)
theme songgold - years and years // weak - ajr
spoken languages►english
"what you've seen has hardened you; heralded you to become something more in order to find some peace of mind. this was not for your pride."there was no distinguished tragedy that struck the orrel family, as few of them as there were, but rather several spurts of running. there was always some form of running. none of it was for the faint of heart either, inevitably staining a young boy who could have had far more going for him. his father was consistent, his mother, persistent, but it forged him in the same fire that blazed before he found sanctuary at camp.

like any other man, the spell of a woman was one hard to ignore, recasted the moment the empousa's fair lips outstretched a smirk as she lured one male away in particular. the only problem: it wasn't supposed to mean anything. seduce and destroy was the foundation of her monstrous species, yet it only felt wrong with him. keenan's father was meant to die that night, drained like the other countless victims lured by empousai alike, but oxygen still filled and left his lungs as he walked away from the scene. without a doubt, it was a debt later paid.

one spared life brought another, and the hybrid spawned was a cruel punishment for being morally right for once. he was a plagued thought before he could even fathom his own. his mother protected him from the half that'd surely kill him, while simultaneously keeping him from the half that could easily corrupt him sooner than the prior. neither side would do him good, but only one would give him a chance.

she had him solely in mind as he was passed into the arms of his unsuspecting father, from one future to another by the very hold of each parent, while the baby's safety reigned over her own desires to keep him. her last visit held several meanings, however, as a gentle whisper in her old lover's ear became the last words he'd hear from her. a man shouldn't know the date of his own death.

keenan grew up with no particular home, for that would have meant staying in one place for more than two years - if even. his father was in the midst of a hunt keenan had no knowledge of. he was suddenly jutted into a position in which he had to grow up before his time, accepting responsibilities for himself that a child had no need to take up. there was a hidden pressure looming against them; a clock that counted down in the distance, from which each tick sent chills. it was a town in virginia when each segment read zero, and their home glowed from the fires of his mother's hair, carpet scorched and stained with red and black. keenan was pulled from the grasps of other empousai by his wounded father while his mother was disoriented, perpetuating a length of running unsurpassed by their previous years.

the news said their house burned from a gas leak thanks to those who sought to help their escape; a select few who were somehow unphased and all-knowing for the supernatural at hand. it was the orrel's last time on the road that the young boy established what his unspoken half bestowed. the blood that fell from the inflictions, brought by his mother and her sisters, across his father's skin returned from whence it came, each cut slowly clotting to form small scabs. keenan's hesitant hand retracted back to his side in the passenger seat afterwards, ignoring what he did entirely by turning up the radio like old times. they hardly spoke until the camp's gates were in view.

their separation wasn't heartbreaking. what happened back in their virginia home wasn't something keenan ever considered tragic. his mother tried to change species-old ways and failed; him being the product of that fact, and his father being the thorn in her side she couldn't ignore. he didn't admit to what he was for the first few months before a pair of twins made him comfortable enough to do just that. he's adapted now, found peace with both halves of himself the moment he used his abilities for good. whether people judge him for a half they hardly see is up to them. he could have ended up worse.
❝wherever we're opened, we're red❞
img_6085-jpg.300095
 
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XANDER & XENA

nothing lasts forever


name xander frances myers.
alias (x)andy.
age twenty years old.
d.o.b november 13th.
p.o.b califorinia.
zodiac scorpio.
gender cismale.
religion none.
romantic orientation panromantic.
sexual orientation pansexual.
parent athena.

name xena kailin myers.
alias //

age twenty years old.
d.o.b november 13th.
p.o.b califorinia.
zodiac scorpio.
gender cisfemale.
religion none.
romantic orientation biromantic.
sexual orientation bisexual.
parent athena.





fc frank(ie) rossi.
height 5'11''.
weight unknown.
hair colour light brown.
eye colour blue.
tattoos/piercings none.

+ traits benevolent, protective, welcoming, laid back, sensitive, organised.
- traits secretive, picky, vain, self indulgent, impatient, 'all talk'.
likes food prepared a certain way, clean shirts, cats, long walks, romance novels, learning languages, guitar music, cider., scrapbooking.

dislikes being proved wrong, dirty rooms, large dogs, confinement, horror films, bigotry, strong alcohol, remixed songs.
moral alignment lawful neutral.

strengths organisation/planning, good stamina, fist fights.
weaknesses overestimates his abilities, easily led, can't swim.
spoken languages english, german, french.


fc carmella rose.
height 5'6''.
weight 125lb, roughly.
hair colour light brown.
eye colour hazel.
tattoos/piercings x.

+ traits tolerant, quick witted, independent, charming, selfless.
- traits sarcastic, flirtatious, procrastinating, vengeful, stubborn.
likes lingerie, warm weather, the ocean, sparkling wine, climbing trees, false eyelashes, cherry lipbalm, gymnastics, romantic gestures.

dislikes monotony, admitting her feelings, coffee, sleeping, the smell of cut grass, wearing jumpers, uniforms, enclosed spaces.
moral alignment (somewhat chaotic) neutral.
strengths flexible, silver tongued, works well under pressure.
weaknesses fickle, acts without considering consequences, bad at learning new languages.
spoken languages english, (shaky) french.






'nothing lasts forever.'
this idea was drilled into the twins from a very young age. their father, a loving man turned bitter after a string of failed relationships and several deaths, never wanted his children to get too attached and suffer the heartbreak that could come with losing somebody that you loved. matthew was far from a bad man; he loved his children and they loved him, but it was just that one statement that became a recurring theme in the twins' lives that would eventually drive a wedge between them and their father. he was always ready with it: when xena came home from school aged nine years old and professed that a girl named cadence was her best friend forever, when xander aged fifteen got a job in the local takeaway handling the phone, when xena aged fourteen claimed that her new boyfriend would love her forever. the sad thing was, he was right; cadence moved away after xena's twelfth birthday never to be heard from again, the takeaway fired xander a month after he landed the job, xena's boyfriend cheated on her, humiliated her, and left her heartbroken. these events coupled with the statement that seemed to come from matthew daily began to affect them.
xena was always xander's best friend and he was always hers. no matter what their father said, they had decided that their bond at least would be the one thing that would last forever. they never fought the way that many siblings they knew did, they were peaceful as children and as teenagers, working in harmony and fighting one another's battles. xena would dab at the split lol and knuckles xander would get from the fights his big talking would land him in, xander would sweet-talk teachers into letting xena off of detentions, or frighten off whichever one of her hookups decided that he didn't want to be cast away so quickly. they were a team, through and through. had they not been twins, had only one of them been a child of athena, it's possible they never would have gone to camp daybreak. xena would never leave xander, and vice versa. as fortune would have it they were twins, same mother, and they would be going off to start afresh, together as always.
three months before their seventeenth birthday they arrived at the camp together and settled in fairly well. for a few weeks they kept to themselves, finding company only in one another, but xena was confident enough to branch out and introduce the both of them to anyone she could reach, and after several years knows her way around like the back of her hand. xander likes to play matchmaker, or at least consider who would make a good pair with who, even if he never acts on his musings. the two of them like to think that they know pretty much everybody in the camp, so new arrivals are of great interest.

coded by: aesthete
 
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xena || aphrodite
- chew you up & spit you out, 'cause that's what young love is all about.
- queen of fancy lingerie. does she own normal underwear? no.
- either wants to sleep with you or already has.
- beauty, grace, will punch you in the face.
- she's honestly so flexible that it's scary.
- cherry lip balm and red lipstick.
- fights to protect xander bc he's only a bean.
- she's pure i swear just... not on the surface.
- dresses like it's summer all year round.
 
v a n e s s a | m i r e ;
name: vanessa lark mire.
age: here

pronouns: she/her.
orientation: pansexual.


2-jpg.292995
2-jpg.292995
s t a t s

name vanessa lark mire.
alias nessa/nessie.
age 20.
d.o.b feb 22nd.
zodiac pisces.
gender cisfemale.
r.o panromantic.
s.o pansexual.
parent himeros.

fc naressa valdez.
height 5'6".
weight 136lb.
hair black.
eyes brown.
vc dianna agron.
piercings navel.
clothing x o x

+ traits adaptable, trusting, loyal, intuitive, compassionate.
- traits gullible, indecisive, self critical, clingy, detached.
likes security, romance, swimming, wearing denim, cats.
dislikes liars, loneliness, eating meat, wool jumpers, snow.
moral alignment neutral.
strengths intelligent, can improvise when under pressure, athletic.
weaknesses has little self confidence, won't always put forward her ideas, believes whatever lie she's told.

1-jpg.292994
1-jpg.292994
b i o
Carlotta didn't marry Victor for love. He loved her, adored her, he was head over heels from the moment they met, but she never returned his affections quite the way he wanted her to. No, she married Victor for the security he provided, the financial benefits, and simply because she loved having somebody wrapped around her finger the way he was. The poor man, blinded by love and foolishness, ignored that he would come home just as another man was leaving his bedroom, ignored people when they told him they'd seen Carlotta out for dinner with a man who was not him. He even defended her, claiming that the poor woman simply got lonely, what with him working such long hours. He was willing to do whatever it took to make the marriage work.
Vanessa was not his daughter but he raised her as though she was. They were very close, Vanessa may even have loved Victor more than she loved her own mother because he provided all of the parental love and guidance that she failed to give. Carlotta was not a particularly motherly woman, and she was too caught up in trying to make her big debut as an actress that she barely paid attention to her daughter. She landed her first role, a small but recurring one on a sitcom, when Vanessa was nine years old and everything just took off from there. When Vanessa was eleven Carlotta filed for divorce; now that she had plenty of her own money and also a string of potential new husbands, she simply didn't need Victor anymore. When he demanded custody of Vanessa, she didn't object at all.
Victor and Vanessa were very good friends, father and daughter even though they weren't related by blood. Every day she grew to look more and more like her mother, which pained Victor. It seemed as though everything was going to work out after all, but then Vanessa's real heritage caught up to her; her father was not just another one of Carlotta's past hookups but Himeros, god of sexual desire and unrequited love. Aged fifteen she parted with Victor and went off to Camp Half Blood.
During her years at the camp she has had her fair share of brief romances that fizzled into nothing, friendships that were either strengthened over time or broken off, even an enemy or two. Most of her relationships were harmless flings, fun to pass the time, but one would stay with her forever simply because of the way the boy got his hooks into her. Camp Half Blood is actually a place Vanessa likes more than she expected to, she has settled down pretty well and is curious about meeting the children of monsters.
coded by dwale
 
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Don't pin it all on me
name • addison einin white
alias • addy/adds (most often by carter), daughter of memeus
age • nineteen
dob • april 11
pob • boston, massachusetts
zodiac • aries
gender • cisfemale (she/her/hers)
nationality • american
religion • undecided
romantic orientation • pan
sexual orientation • hetero
parent • momus; greek god of the poets, mockery, blame, satire, and unfair criticism

faceclaim • lauren calaway
height • 5'5"
weight • 127 lbs.
hair • naturally brown; dyed a varying purple
eyes • brown
voiceclaim • liz gillies
tattoos/piercings • n/a
distinguishing marks/features • n/a
clothing stylexx

positive traits • committed, empathetic, decisive, challenging, loyal
negative traits • headstrong, cynical, abrasive, solitary, insecure
likes • unnatural colors, stupid nicknames, strong emotions, wandering, training
dislikes • scapegoats, fake optimism, needles, crowds, her quick judgement
moral alignment • lawful neutral
mbti • intj-t
strengths • negotiating, endurance, quick on her feet, hot-wiring cars
weaknesses • impatient, has too much faith in fixing unfixable things, lacks trust in others, easily riled up
powersdoubt empowerment (unfortunately known and controlled); negative energy manipulation (known, but still learning the kinks)
theme songparallel and repeat - seavera
spoken languages • english, vague latin
addisonedit.jpg
addisonedit1.jpg
"darling, you aren't wrong. you could have succumbed to your darkness, and yet where you stand couldn't be brighter. you had choices, paths; all of them lead you here. how or where you found your peace does not equate to feeling it."it wasn't common for one mortal to produce two demigods, let alone two from different gods. vivian white was nothing if not a broken woman, but despite the insecurities that ruled her, her misguided actions brought joys within her life irreplaceable by regular circumstances. the god of blame could have had a hayday with the pit she carried, yet his mercy took many forms.

addison was, more or less, jutted into a quiet mess of a family. never dwelling on the absence of a man in the house other than her older brother, nor acknowledging the difference between either sibling. everything was hushed, coated over with archetypal family situations. their mom worked small jobs to pay a few bills, her brother naturally teased her as his closest form of love, and she was left to her own devices. carter was a golden child without realizing it, effectively becoming addison's idol in the oddest ways. it wasn't until the girl got into high school that both siblings drifted like continents.

carter fell in his own hole of drama regardless of how many times addison tried to pull him out. for the amount of trust they had in each other before, two lost lovers on his part disregarded all of it. the little sister wasn't supposed to outdo the eldest when it came to common sense. she ignored how far they were falling, though, when his adversity didn't make her feel sympathetic but rather empowered. each day he slipped further from the people he loved, addison felt better about the things she did, taking things on with little care. it wasn't at all how she wanted to feel.

her lack of confidence in the limelight of her clueless brother before was now flooded while he was down. both of them were slowly changing in separate corners of the ring. his pent-up anger started to get the best of him, and addison simmered with a negativity not of her own doing; except, it was, as she smiled when the doubt of others grew so thick it could have been cut. however, it plagued her emotions, pushing her down alongside everyone else if she soaked in too much. it hurt inside more than anything else to grasp for the decency she once had. while they were far from close, brother and sister alike found themselves in one fairly similar boat in the long-run.

the moment carter left, addison felt herself again, only to be claimed mere days afterwards. a whole, unforgiving world for demigods opened up to her long before it did carter; the knowledge of that inevitably making her stomach churn. she was seated in the living room, as if to prepare for a 'come to jesus' talk that seemed a little too literal, give or take a few details, while her mother explained it all. addison took it as a joke.

if anything, she missed him, blamed herself for feeding into an ability she couldn't comprehend instead of pushing to make him better. there was no goodbye, or a note that gave a glimmer to his whereabouts once carter left. she had an old shirt of his, and that was it. a parthenon held up by three pillars would surely fall if one were to disappear. there was a longing to hear his stupid laugh, because regardless of the crap he pulled on her, she still looked up to him. but she assumed what she did was fueled by the loss, not by withdrawal. living embodiments of her resentment, her own self-deprecation, and hatred filled her room the night she called out to her supposed father to take back the gifts he gave, or to at least tell her it was all a cruel prank. her lineage was no longer the joke she hoped it to be.

"you can pull the cameras out now, pops. tell me the show's over."

her mother sent her to camp at the sore age of sixteen, distorted by almost everything around her until she got a grip of how to control what she could do. however, it seemed the moment she forgot about her elder brother, his beat up self found daybreak two years later. what surprised her the most was the happiness that radiated from him beneath his old guilt. it took a day for her to actually make herself known to him again for both their sake. whether to be happy they were reunited or break for how lost they've become is still quite the seesaw. as for the rest of the hell forming at camp, addison's concern and judgement rests on those she's formed relations with - whether their parent be a god of thunder or apparent monster. daybreak is the only solid thing she's had to lean against when she needed it most.
Don't blame, blame, blame
 
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