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| >> Campfire Creative >> Fiction >> Fantasy >> ID #1661206 |   |
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| [Introduction]
Another boring day at Camp Half-Blood. Wait, is there ever a boring day? Nope. ~Three of us will be playing demi-gods, and three of us will be playing the three head gods. I may add others later, but tell me which one you want when you enter! If you playing one of the gods than you should write about what's going on where you are: ie: Mount Olympus, the Underworld, or even Earth. You can take human form, but mostly you'll probably just be writing about what your doing. Wether you plan to help, hinder, ignore, or push the demi-gods in the "right" direction.~ ~RULES: -No cursing, sex, or graphic violence -Please try to add within a week at least -Have fun! [Prosecutors will be sent to Tartarus.] ~Character Slots: Son of Apollo~ Wiskers  Daughter of Hephaestus~ LdyPhoenix  Son of Hera~ Lonewolf - Catching up  - - - - - - - Zeus cheesecaketops  ~ Hades~ TColeG Poseidon~ TSC- MIA Go here for links to the greek gods! (http://www.crystalinks.com/olympians.html) |
 Wiskers  ~Bios~ Name: Nikko McCarthy Age: 17 Father/Mother: Apollo Appearance: Shaggy black hair that likes to stick up, even when wet. His eyes are a sort of golden color, and his skin is fair. Average height but lanky. Personality: Raised by an all-green hippie mom, Nikko's had free reign to be himself. He likes to play guitar, piano, and a few other instruments (Possibly because his father is known for loving music). He can dance as well and has fairly good balance. Is a little withdrawn into himself. Known Abilities: He can heal others of slight wounds, bend light about himself, and most noteably, sometimes gets visions of the future. (Something that vexes him to no end.) Is pretty new to Camp Half-Blood, and so is average in swordplay and warfare, but shows promise in archery. Other: Name means "victory of the people" in Greek. [Obviously, we'll get to know each other when we write, I just wanted a basis so I can add you guys to the first real addition. PS: If you are playing a god you obviously don't need a bio :3] LdyPhoenix Name: Zeva VaughnAge: 18 Father/Mother: Hephaestus Appearance: Straight, rich brown hair grown long in the front and cut short in the back. Her eyes are heterochromatic – two different colors – one that is a misty grey and one that is brown. She has olive-toned skin and an athletic frame with upper body strength supported by lean muscles. Personality: Zeva is a quiet type, letting her work speak for her feelings. She loves to use her hands, crafting things in clay, marble, and metals. She makes it her mission to master to the weapons she forges; feeling that to use them is the only way to perfectly craft them. She cares little for anything else. Known Abilities: She is impervious to fire, and can manipulate the element to some extent; she also can “read” the surface of a weapon if she holds it. Other: Her first name means “the sword” in Greek. Her mother was a hospice nurse before she developed an eye disorder that has now made her completely blind. Lonewolf - Catching up Name: Dio A. MacarthurAge: 18 1/2 Father/Mother: Hera Appearance: Dio has been referred to as beautiful with his flawless mocha colored skin, and his clear startling sea blue eyes. He was tall standing at 6’2 with a classic athletic body, strong broad shoulders, muscled arms, defined abs any wrestler would kill for, and legs that seemed to have been sculpted from marble. His hair is a curious thing to behold it always tends to change depending on his mood, most of the time it is the color of calm blue. However when his temper flares so does his hair to the point of setting itself on fires not harming him of course and always goes back to the original color and length which is rather long going a tad past his neck. Personality: Dio has a complex personality being able to adjust to get along with just about anyone. He has a keen ability to ease the tempers of those in his presence taking on their burden to his strong shoulders. Dio is fiercely loyal to those he holds close. Dio has a dark part to his personality that only comes out when dealing with anything to do with Zeus. Known Abilities: Due to the circumstances of his birth Dio has abilities close to those of his uncle Poseidon, being able to use water at will. Great strength and the ability to take in and wield bolts of lightning. Other: Dio is an only child to Hera not birthed by Zeus; only Chiron and the higher Gods know the circumstances of his birth. Dio spends all his time at camp since he was a child because Zeus murdered his father in an attempt to kill Dio with his famed Thunderbolt. Zeus was unaware the boy would take the bolt of thunder easily adding it to his own power it did prove to be too much however, and exploded all around him killing his father Balthazar when he was four. Dio remembers the events that brought him to camp with uncanny accuracy. Dio is proficient in swordplay and wrestling sometimes teaching the classes when the trainers are otherwise engaged. His weapon of choice is a sword imbued with the thunder of Zeus given as a gift from his mother Hera with the blessing of Zeus himself. Wiskers Flames, darkness, and a coldness that seeped through everything. Anywhere he turned it was there. A blackness that was so complete, it choked the light out of everything. Even life. There was a river that ran through it. A river of dolls, and watches, and photos. A river of dreams that were never fulfilled. And in the midst of this... hell, there was a palace. Some said it was made of bones. The windows were black and seemed to be made of moving shadows, and they let in the air; damp with death and suffering. He tried to call upon the light of his father, anything to save him from the darkness. But it did not come. The air became icy, and a shadow with eyes of void approached him. It smiled showing needles. "Do you like my home, demi-god?" It crooned. Nikko shot up in bed. His breath was coming hard and fast, and he felt cold. He rubbed his hands over his face. In the flickering of the single candle in his room, he could see that he was alone. Chiron had said that it hadn't always been like this. That the sons and daughters of Apollo had once filled this cabin with light and music. But they were all gone. He hadn't been there to see it, so he didn't feel the loss of company. The last one was killed just before he arrived in Camp Half-Blood. The lives of demi-gods were anything but easy. Often they felt different, and alone. They attracted mythical monsters to them, just because they were who they were, and it was dangerous for their families. And for them... Nikko outstretched his hand towards the light, and it flowed from the candle to him. He watched it dance around his fingers, sure that he could hear it laughing. Light made music to him, and no one else seemed to hear it. For a moment, like many he had had before, he thought of his father. What did he do in the heavens with the other gods? Did he sing and make music? Did the light sing for him too? Then he dismissed it, angry with himself. His father, like all of the other gods, had abandoned him. They abandoned all their children. It was said that this too was once different. That a god had loved his child so much that he began to forget his duties, and Zeus punished him, and everyone else. They would never see their children again. But it was no use to pine for times past. Especially ones he'd never even seen. A breeze came through the window, and though it was warm, he shivered. His dream... he hoped that was all that it was. --- It was his fifth day at Camp Half-Blood. He'd woken with the sound of the horn being blown, and the glorious light of the sun streaming through his windows. Even as could feel the tug of dread pull at his stomach at the thought of training, it warmed him. He took in a deep breath, and halfheartedly attempted to smooth his unruly hair. "Here goes nothing." He trotted down the grass hill towards the main meeting place, where a large fire was already roaring. Every morning when they would serve themselves breakfast, they would drop a portion of the meal into the fire as an offering to the gods. The result was the most beautiful aroma. They did this every mealtime. He hesitated, looking around at the tables. He didn't want to sit alone forever. There a few of the daughters of Aphrodite saw him and called over, waving and laughing. He blushed and hopped down at the nearest table out of embarrassment. Then he noticed the only other person occupying the bench. He was very fit and handsome. He had light blue hair. "Um." Nikko cleared his throat. "Hi." The young man glanced at him, then spit to the side. Unsure what to do, he stretched out his hand. "I'm Nikko." Quicker then he thought was possible the boy grabbed his arm, twisted him around and pinned him on the table, knocking their plates to the floor. His hair was now red and orange, and almost seemed to be burning. "I'm Dio." He smirked. "And if your smart, you wont get near me again." Then he let go, and was gone. Everyone had stopped eating and was staring at him. Nikko wiped some food off of his shirt. "Great." --- He always did okay in archery. In fact, his teacher thought he had a lot of potential. But sword fighting? Not so much. For one he could never find the right sword. They were always too heavy, or too long. The other thing was that people always seemed to be aiming for his face! He'd already gotten a bloody nose (he'd managed to heal it almost completely). "Your going to get killed if you wave it around like that." A female voice behind him spoke. She had olive skin, two differently colored eyes, and was scowling at him. She was hot. "You have to feel the blade. It has to be a part of you. Otherwise it'll be useless to you." She swung her own sword with grace. "Uh, right." He turned back around and tried again. "Your not one with it." She moved to face him, and suddenly thrust her sword at his torso. He managed to parry but dropped his weapon in the process. He bent down to get it but stopped when her blade touched his neck. "If you cant find the right weapon, your going to have to make one." Then she sheathed her sword and left. Nikko dusted himself off and picked up his sword. Man, today was going horribly. "Who was that?" He asked a pimply demi-god that was practicing with a dummy. "Thats Zeva. One of the children of Hephaestus. Did you know that Hephaestus made Zeus's thunderbolt?" "I thought the children of Hephaestus were supposed to be, you know." He lowered his voice. "Ugly." LdyPhoenix Zeva walked away from the new addition with a frown. The way he handled a sword was borderline disgraceful. He had no sense of metal or handle or weaponry - the feeling of being one with the blade you carried. Then again, he had only been apart of their camp for a few days. For some of the children of the Gods certain tasks did not come as easy as others. Being a demi-god didn't always make you proficient. Still, the misuse of the sword bothered her, especially for someone who was as old as she was. That would be something she'd have to fix soon, the smoothness and lightness of the blade of his sword already forming a picture in her mind.Straightening her leather cuirass, Zeva walked over to a smaller section of the training field to find a set of nine younger children standing at attention with their wooden swords placed at their sides. The fingers that brushed her chin hid the twitches of a smile. They were serious students of all their crafts and to laugh at their appearance, as endearing as it was, would only serve to weaken their resolve. Instead, she nodded to each one of them in acknowledgment before starting their routine of parring, feints, piercing, and swinging. The last couple of weeks had gone well, and they were advancing at rapid speed. There was one - Aria - that she kept particular eye on for advancement. A daughter of Athena, Aria had the potential to master the craft before the age of ten. "You do well with them," a voice whispered close to her ear. Dio stood beside her as she took a break to watch their new techniques. It was important to spot errors early or they were much more difficult to correct later. She gave her friend a sideways glance before taking a spit of the water he offered. They friendship had started with a sword no less, a friendly rivalry to see who was better. Their skill was evenly matched, much her pleasure. Over time they had become close. Dio didn't mind that she didn't speak much or her awkward gaze. She didn't care who his parents were or his odd moods. They were just two children of myth who enjoyed each others company without the pretense. So when she stared back at Dio in what he describes as her "squirrelly eyed" expression, she received the small benefit of watching him squirm beneath his swagger. "I heard what happened to breakfast." She turned back to see one of Ares young sons try to switch a feint with a stab. The look on her face got him back in order. Soon, however, his nature wouldn't allow this type of teaching. When that day came he would join with his brothers in practice. It was the sad but honest truth. Done, Zeva turned back to see Dio's hair begin to shift color. "It was nothing." "It was outlandish," she said with a smirk. "You've never been one to show such a flash of temper. Especially with a boy who has done nothing to you. What has gotten under your skin?" His face was made of stone. "A dream. I had a dream about that son of Apollo. I did not like where it took me." They stood together in a companionable silence for a moment. This was the part that always made her uncomfortable. She should be able to offer him some solace or comfort, but those images were always hard to translate into words. The forging of metal, the molding of clay, the heat of fire - these were the things she was good at. Yet, she knew, she was probably the only one who would him advice given his status. She'd have to take a shot. "Was death involved?" The line of his mouth flattened. "Not necessarily." "Did he harm you?" "It's complicated." "Then fix it." Eyes of pure blue turned cold as he turned to face her. "What did you say?" Zeva rolled her shoulders. "You're angry over something even you know impractical. For a person who has diffused more arguments here in camp than most of the counselors, you should realize this is out of character for you. Stop being a jackass and fix the problem. Talk to him. Get to know him. Apologize." "Someone has found her feet this morning," he muttered. Seeing the storm pass from his gaze, her lips twitched in amusement. "I have my moments." "Have you designed his weapon yet?" "Aria! More strength in your arm! I could break your hold with my little finger!" Her demands met, she turned to him in question. "Huh?" Dio smiled down at her, and the fire in her fingers grew to a slow burn. "You do that for all new arrivals. Design their perfect weapon. Have you designed his yet?" It made her feel odd at how well he knew her. "Perhaps..." Dio laughed, messing with her hair, before walking off to solve his problem no doubt. She watched him leave with trepidation. How bad could a dream be to cause such a change in personality. If she had time later, she would ask her friend in Isleen, a daughter of Morpheus, how dreams effect the mind. A cough brought her attention back to the group. She found many smirking faces and knowing smiles. Zeva refused to blush. "And here you thought you were done for the day. Another full set of stances. Now." The groans could be heard for miles as they formed their lines once more. It was only when fire bloomed from her fingertips that they took a more professional approach. Sometimes, Zeva thought as she braced her training sword against her shoulder blades, a little incentive could go a long way. © Copyright 2010 Wiskers, LdyPhoenix, Lonewolf - Catching up, (known as GROUP). All rights reserved. GROUP has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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