propane nightmares

Name: Ceallach Shane O'Riley
Nickname: Kell, normally (or Cell, but I'm going by pronunciation).
Birthday: May 30th, 1994
Age: Seventeen
Godly parent: Hedone; spirit of pleasure, enjoyment and delight
Place of birth: New York
Claimed: Yup.
Year-Round or Summer: Year-Round
Years at camp: undecided

Appearance: Freaking gawg.

Personality: a drug-taking asshole.

Fatal Flaws: •
Pets:
Weapons:
Talents: •.
•

Face claim: Matt Lanter

Mortal Family: "."


Brief History: Before the age of five, Ceallach had no true identity. No one had stood forward and announced “Yes, I plucked this child from my body and I take full responsibility.” All he knew of himself was that he was the school kid that had been dumped at an orphanage at an early age, only knowing that his name was Ceallach and his mother had blonde hair and sang him to sleep at night. Or, as the young child would sob, she’d used to. he hadn’t seen her for the past few days, the toddler would repeat, and she had been out with Mark a lot. Mark; the one of many boyfriends that his mother sported on her arm. The more men she had in her life, the more she forget about the most important; Kell. She finally came to her senses and realised that she couldn’t go on pretending to do the best for her only child, knocking the door to a local care-home at nine in the evening and strutting into her car. The social workers opened the door to find a three year old sobbing on the step and the back of a Honda speed around the corner.

So, considering that the toddler knew little and they had very little information, the home had to look after the child for a good few years. Until he was five, for that matter, and could barely remember the fact that he had once been unloved. Through law and social services, they were able to get in contact with his mom, but she only signed a few forms and give him his identity. He was Ceallach O’Riley, descendant of an Irish sailor and outcome of a drunken one night stand. He’d been informed little by little, learning most of the story when he hit the age of eleven. By that time, he had been to more homes than he had hot dinners; no one wanted him. He was unloved. Unloved. Doesn’t that word just make you cringe? it certainly made Ceallach cringe.

So he really stayed in New York in the care of professionals until he was around nine, then finally finding a family that could look after him and cope with his learning difficulties and ADHD. They were a weird family, all in all, and extremely secretive. Kell would return from his local school to find them shuffling and fumbling about with papers and objects, trying to keep them out of view from the tween. Having lived in a home with other kids for many years, Ceallach knew better than to really question them about it.

Name: Jacob Tao Bradford
Nickname: “I’ve never really a problem with the name Jacob. I mean, it’s not really out of the ordinary, is it? Honestly, I would have preferred it be called something brave and heroic. Jacob just sounds like a little kids name, and it worse when people call me Jake.”
Jake, Jay, etc…
Godly parent: Nyx
Birthday: March 1st, 1995
Place of birth: “I lived in Canada all my life, up until a year ago. I had to move...it's what we planned....” Toronto, Canada
Age: Seventeen
Claimed: Yes
Year-Round or Summer: Year-Round
Years at camp: One

Appearance: Unless you knew Jake, there was every possibility that just passing him in the street would make you have certain stereotypical judgments just by him appearence. He never has, and never will, but look like the sweet, average teenage boy. He looks like his past; rough, harsh and aggressive. You can’t really expect anything else, seeing as he had to live in certain depressing conditions until only recently, so he doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that, to some, he might look that the type of young adult that gets kicks out of standing on street corners, pestering old women or trying to get it on with as many girls as possible. It’s actually funny that, to most extents, he is exactly the opposite.
He has never really been able to have control over his hair, in any situation, Starting from early morning, he would wake up to have nots in his thick brown curls and struggle to run a comb or brush through it. This is why he has to really shower every morning, or he seriously can’t control it. His hair has a mind of it’s own. If he just leave it dry on it’s own, it normally ends up curling at the front and, well, everywere. It’s soft, and quite long, so he has to get it cut every so often to stop it from getting in front of his eyes. If he dries it with a blow-drier however - or straightens it - it normally ends up quite wavy and flat, almost like the popular haircut that most teenagers have, yet not quite. All in all, his hair is pretty crazy.
Then his eyes, which are a light greenish-blue colour and normally stand out among that of his siblings, who tend to have darker eyes. They have flecks of dark brown in them, granted, but are really outstandingly light compared to a few of his siblings. They are framed with relatively long eyelashes and beneath wide dark eyebrows.
Like any teenage boy that has really finished hitting puberty, Jake is left standing at around six-foot, which isn’t too ambitious but means that he is left around an inch taller than other boys. His isn’t too-muscular, and could be considered lean more than anything. Seeing as he spends a lot of the day sleeping or inside, Jake doesn’t really have a tan, only a light golden tint to his skin.
Finally; Jacob’s dress sense, which is pretty schizophrenic. Most days, he settles with a pair of chinos, jeans or shorts, always wearing them pretty low on his hips and revealing his boxers at the back, like modern-day fashion. However, he has been known to wear quite weirder things, like a bandana tied around his forehead and fake black glasses. He doesn’t really care what he looks like. Jake also has a few tattoos, which some people aren’t keen on but again, he doesn’t really give a damn.

Perosnality: Jacob still remembers fragments of what happened, yet believes most of them to be a bad dream. The smallest of things can set of the memories; the smell of his father’s alcohol, Lucy’s colour eyes, etc. It is sure that it will all come back to Jacob completely, and when it does, he is probably going to be inconsolable. But because he can’t remember some of the worst bits of his past, he is quite close to a normal eighteen year old. He can be a bit of a goody-goody at most times, not drinking or anything like that, but he is moderately…sane. He laughs a lot, and is almost always smiling. It is almost as if he dedicates himself completely to making others smile because of his abusive past. He remembers feeling sad, and angry and weak, so he makes sure enough people are fine and good.
Another thing about Jacob is that he can be quite…enthusiastic and childish. He doesn’t fight much even if he can box, and he will literally go to all lengths to make people feel okay. A lot of the time, it’s hard for people to keep up with him, especially when he makes plans for them to meet up at dark despite any harpies around camp, and a lot have to sit him down and say something like, “Jake, honey, calm down. We are not going to the cinema at four in the morning.” once he gets an idea, he has to do it. He’s a little like an energetic puppy, needing a lot of people and things around him 24/7.
He isn’t good at pushing people away, and he trusts everyone straight away. He’s too much of a sensitive and nice guy. If a bunch of Ares kids were going to move in a pound him, he would probably throw a punch and run, his battle instincts and ADHD making him punch, but his fear making him run. Of course, you can’t escape much as a Demigod, so Jacob has to try and battle his way through it and make the first punch, even if he doesn’t want someone else to get hurt. He will go out of his way for others, and can be very loud with people he is close with. As much as his friends love him, they sometimes can’t wait for peace and quiet when he’s gone, knowing they’ll get none of that when he’s around. He doesn’t worry about what people think of him, even if he sometimes can’t handle them saying it.
Lastly is Jacob’s protectiveness to the ones he loves. If any of his friends or siblings are being insulted or something, he will literally do anything to make sure they’re feelings aren’t hurt, sometimes going against his normal personality traits and threatening to start a fight. Obviously the real Jacob kicks in before he can, but he’s just like that. He doesn’t like to see people hurt, but doesn’t believe he should hurt people in return. As he says; “Haters gonna hate, potatoes gonna potate.” If the seventeen year old has a girlfriend, he will literally be so protective, it’s ridiculous. Not in the way that he wants to know where they are all day long, but he will not leave them alone for a while if their feelings are hurt or something. This means he normally loses girls, and he’s surprised when he gets them in the first place.

Fatal Flaws:• When Jake receives a fragment of an old memory about Lucy’s murder or something, he can get a bit…weird; locking himself up for a day in darkness or something. Of course, he thinks that it’s all a dream, but he’s still affected by it.
• Jacob is extremely claustrophobic; refusing to take elevators unless necessary.
• Jake is really quite sensitive, and will be close to break-downs at a lot of criticism.
Pets: "I found him. Pac is just swaggy."
Weapons: “I don’t really like to fight, so it would be pretty contradictory of me to have a particular weapon to use. So no, I just use a normal celestial bronze sword, because anything fancy is too mainstream.”
Celestial bronze sword and shield.
Talents: • Jacob can bring darkness to a room on his own, flowing all his energy into it to dim a place. He doesn’t do it much, considering most aren’t as fond of the dark as he is, but he is still glad of the ability. If ever attacked inside, he darkens the place whilst making his escape. It comes in handy.
• The young man can also blend into the shadows quite easily, and his eyes are well adapted to the night, seeing almost as good as he can in day.
• His last power, which is no better than his fist, is that Jacob is strongest in the night. That’s it. “Bogus, right?”
Face claim: Aaron Johnson

Mortal Family: “Dad was, quite frankly, a monster. He was an abusive ass, and I hope he rots in hell.”
Owen Bradford was Jacob’s biological father, also born in Toronto, Canada. He grew up as a privileged young lad, with the money to go to a private school for wealthy and successful families. Owen was set for life, passing a good education and having all that he needed to satisfy him in life. He didn’t want any more, or any less. Well, that was until he met the Greek goddess Nyx, who was posing as a normal twenty year old. Being very attractive, there was no surprise that Owen was drawn to her, and nine months later, he was lumbered with their baby, and she had disappeared. This heartbreak was catastrophic for Owen, but he refused to give up the young son, even though he practically neglected him. No, instead he spent all his money on alcohol, becoming the cruel, harsh man that Jacob had been forced to grow up with.

“There was also this, uh, girl. She wasn’t properly related to me…not by blood, I mean. She was adopted, two years before me. We got on well but I never really saw her as a sister, as such. We, uh, it’s hard to explain. I knew that I loved her more then a brother should, and she felt the same. She meant so much to me. I can barely remember her though…just my feelings…”
Lucy Belle was a poor young orphan, with enough sparks inside her to warm the hearts of many lost people. Before Nyx had come along, Owen had no hope of having a daughter, and therefore chose to adopt this young girl. Obviously, she was still in the scene when she received a little ‘brother’ and was two years older than him. She had to put up with the same things that Jacob did, and the two of them became very close when growing-up. They were pushed together if you will, and because of that they both became closer than they should.

Brief History: Jacob’s life was set to be disaster after disaster from the minute he was born. His Father had immediately become a little unhinged from having his beloved up and leave him, dumping him with a baby born that only seemed to leak fluids and weep tears every time Owen got within a mile radius of him. You couldn’t blame his father at this point of his life, seeing as he had literally been thrown in the deep end without being prepared for anything. Anyone would find this difficult, especially a single man with already one adopted daughter despite the amount of money he did have. At first, he wasn’t sure how to cope, so he kept his children as close to him as possible. He didn’t go out. He didn’t sleep; spending all his time making sure his kids were happy and comfortable and Jacob wasn’t crying. It got to the point where Owen was making himself seriously ill yet refused to go to a doctor; scared that his children would be taken away from him.
Then came the stage of neglect; when Jacob was around a year old and Lucy three. Instead of staying home and looking after them, he would leave them both alone for hours whilst being at a pub, getting drunk out of his mind. He was never aggressive when returning home, but he did indeed treat them as if they were there, only making scraps of food for them. He would sometimes show them some affection, but this had to be only for a hourly period of a week before stumbling down to the local pub once more.
Lucy was affected the worst, and she almost became a piece of furniture to her father, sometimes being hit around. At the age of five, she had seen enough to know that her ‘father’ was in a bad place, yet too young to know what to do. What she did do was try and look after her younger brother, teaching herself how to pour him a bottle of warm milk and get his processed mush ready for him to eat. In hard times, children are pushed together, and this is what happened to Lucy and Jacob.
They both attended school, yet wouldn’t tend to hang-out together at breaks and lunch, considering that Lucy was two years older. When they were young, it seemed like a long age gap, also because Lucy had always been quite motherly towards the little boy. In fact, very few actually knew that the two of them belonged to the same family, and it was obvious that they weren’t related by blood due to the completely different genetics; Jacob’s brown hair and eyes and Lucy’s dark blonde hair and blue eyes. Few people knew about them both being from the same household but never thought much about it. It wasn’t as if their friends were allowed back to their house anyway, considering that their father was probably out at the pub or had brought the pub back home.
Just when the two ‘siblings’ had gotten into the routine of looking after one another, not letting Owen get the better of them both, Owen had forced the decision down on him to attend a boarding-school for boys outside the city, on the border of Canada. The six year-old had no say towards this, and neither did Lucy, so he was sent away despite his screaming and kicking, to somewhere that was very far from Hogwarts.
Whilst Jacob was away in what seemed to be safety, little Lucy was stuck in hell with her adopted father who was becoming more and more abusive. Owen had somehow been able to bribe social services, giving them all a couple of thousand pounds to keep them from sniffing around. Thankfully for her, he didn’t go any further than hitting her, but boy did he abuse her. She would be forced to spend countless weeks on end off school to hide the large purple bruising on the sides of her face, and Owen was still able to keep teachers and police from becoming suspicious. That’s what happened when you had money. You could get away with murder and probably be able to pay people to cover it up for as long as possible.
Jacob’s new life was no walk in the park either. He had joined his new school halfway through the academic year, which meant that everyone already knew each-other and what they were doing. Jake had to pick that all up himself, and it was a lot for the young child. Everyone else was moving onto more difficult tasks, whereas he still didn’t even know what the hell he was doing. Every night, he would dream of Lucy back home, worried about what would be happening to her. He hoped that Owen would be nice to her, but knew that he wouldn’t. It was torture, knowing that somewhere else in the country, someone he cared so much for was being hurt.
But Jacob had the move on, and soon has past life was partly over. Of course, Lucy always played on his mind, the eternal worrying for her always turning his stomach, but you can only hope that the best happened and things worked out, and that’s what he did. He was only young and kids forget. They hope that everything they have seen was just one big nightmare, and this is what Jacob did. He started a new life, where he would have the friends and not worry about the beatings.
“That’s what I always regretted; forgetting about Lucy. I was scared, and I just wanted to move on. Forget that my life was messed about and just be a normal kid, with normal friends, and a normal life. Boarding school, even though the lessons were boring as hell, did that for me. That was, at least, until Dad summoned me back.”
Owen had lived this grand luxurious life-style of booze and girls for so long, it was finally time he had nothing left. Nothing but pennies left in his bank-account. Who did he blame? Lucy and Jacob, of course, even thought Jacob had been on the other side of the country for years and Lucy was just a human punch-bag to him. She was eighteen now, yet still a scared little girl inside. She didn’t know what to do anymore, and Owen had pulled Jacob’s out of his private education. It had been ten years since the ‘siblings’ had been together. Everything about them had changed. They weren’t kids anymore.
Lucy was wary at first, not able to believe how much Jacob had changed. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He had grown, muscled-up, and had an attitude about him that wasn’t intimidating, but very adult. He wasn’t going to put up with any of Owen’s crap anymore, and he wasn’t going to let Lucy get hurt either. He barely knew her anymore, but she had looked after him when he was young, so now it was his turn to look after her.
Owen didn’t try anything for the first few weeks, which gave Jacob and Lucy a chance to get to know each-other again. The more they did so, the more they both realised that they were falling for each-other. They had been pushed together as children in fear, and this was the backlash of that; something that could never be. They needed each-other, and they had to stick up for each-other and trust each-other. They both couldn’t help their feelings for each-other, and they understood each-others pain more than anyone else would be able to.
Being with each-other seemed to be an escape; a chance for both of them to be normal. They knew what Owen would do to them if he found out, so they planned to run away. It was the only option. They were going to run, make it over to another Canadian city, one of the other coastline smaller towns. They weren’t sure, but they just wanted away. To forget everything, and just live.
That’s what the couple planned to do. Everything was set, and everything was ready. That was until, somehow, Owen found out, and would do everything in his power to stop them. He chased them, drunk out of his mind and filled with piping-hot rage. He wouldn’t let his children get the better of him. He owned them, and if they chose to show him up and defy him, then they deserved to die. Owen, at this point, had driven himself to insanity, and was in no fit state to be reasoned with. He soon found Jacob and Lucy’s hired car driving down an empty road during midnight, ramming his fast sports car right into the back of it, showing no regrets for his last precious possession. He grabbed Jacob from the driver’s seat, pulling him about and started to repeatedly punch him, the boy loosing the strength to fight back. He figured that if he took the blows, then Lucy would have enough time to run as far away as possible. That’s all he wanted; her safe.
Lucy, apparently, had other ideas however, getting out of the car as soon as Jake had been hit to the ground. She ran, grabbing an empty beer bottle from besides an over-filled trash-can and sneaking behind Owen as he was serving the kicks, bringing it down on his head. It didn’t knock him out or anything like from the movies, but it was another for him to falter, giving Jacob enough time to stumble away, ready to get Lucy out of here.
He had only turned away for a moment as he wiped the blood from his face, but when he looked back at his girlfriend and father, he was met with her blood-curdling scream, watching Owen pull out a gun from somewhere inside his coat pocket, aiming it at her. Jacob ran forward, maybe to tackle Owen, maybe to push Lucy out of the way. He was not sure what he had planned to do, but he ran forward nevertheless, however not being fast enough, being forced to watch the woman he loved brutally murdered.
“It all seemed so real…”
Jacob breaking into a fit of sobs and falling to his knees, Owen seemed distraught, finally realizing how much of a monster he was. He stumbled away in into the darkness of the night with his gun, never to be seen again. Perhaps he shot himself; Jake always assumed that he had indeed done this, and sure as hell hoped it.
The young teenager stayed with the dead body of his girlfriend not much longer, needing to get out of there. He knew he did, and really didn’t want to be wound up with the police. He had to run, and leave the town like he and Lucy Belle had planned to, still wanting to do everything her heart was set on.
The shadows had always been Jacob’s friends, and he blended increasingly well with them without trying. Bag on his back filled with a good supply of food and drink and his hood pulled over his brown hair, the sixteen year old keep his head down and close to the wall. The only signal that would show that he was there was when the odd car’s headlights would graze over him for a split second, before continuing to rear down the dark and quiet road. The rain pouring down around them was enough the shield the sounds of Jacob’s feet against the side-walk, and he reckoned that he would have enough skill and money to get out of this town instead of being discovered.
“Hey! Boy!” Someone shouted from his car, pulling over on the side of the road besides where Jacob had been standing. Damn streetlight, giving away his position for the unfortunate second of time. Jacob continued walking, not looking back as he heard the guy’s door slam closed “You’re getting soaking wet out here in the rain! C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.”
Jacob shrugged off the man’s hand as it rested on his shoulder, and sped up his pace. He was scared and distraught, the tears only having just stopped rolling down his cheeks and his hands soaked in his own and Lucy’s blood.
“Dude, I really think you should-” The man started, before a massive beast with red eyes ripped through his car, barrelling straight towards them.
Jacob hadn’t made it four miles without being caught up with a hellhound, which almost drove him over the edge again after all the day’s catastrophic events. Thankfully, as he had collapsed against the wall, the man driving the car had been a Demigod in his mid-twenties, realising that Jacob was of some sort of godly heritage and taking him to New York, and to camp half-blood.
Jacob had never told anyone of that day when he first got there, and he had never really planned to, but it had slipped out; one person had been told. Before he was claimed – which was a few months after joining camp – Jake had been made to reside in the Hermes cabin, where he befriended another male camper his age who actually was a son of Hermes. The Hermes boy, Klaus, always had been able to get things easily, and could see how distraught Jake was about all of the events when people told accidentally, catching his closest friend in tears. Even when Jake had been claimed, Klaus was always there for him; planning. Not caring about the consequences of his actions if caught, somehow Klaus was able to get his hands on a small vial of water; the water from the river Lethe, which is also known as the river of forgetfulness. One drop of this would clear a person’s memory completely. Klaus, after much silent planning, carefully drowned a piece of cloth in the liquid, setting it by a fire for a night whilst everyone was asleep, watching as it just…sat there, transforming the liquid into air. The night after, when Klaus was sure that all the liquid had evaporated, he calmed himself down and snuck into the Nyx cabin, holding the cloth on Jacob’s nose, letting him exhale in the fumes. Klaus knew the risks, but he didn’t want one of his only friends to be in such a state. Thankfully, it had gone to plan…sorta. Jacob had lost memory of some of the best and worst parts of his life. He remembered Lucy Belle, but not what happened to her. He remembered what his father had done to them both, but not how he had died. He remembered being scared, and angry and alone, but not always why. What he didn’t remember was Klaus, and the brotherly relationship he they had had. Klaus had taken this risk, and was glad that his friend at least wouldn’t be so sad, even if there was a price.

Name: Quincy Elizabeth O'Riley
Nickname: Quince, Quinn.
Birthday: September 9th, 1864
Age: one hundred and forty-eight, yet is physically and mentally seventeen
Godly parent: Hebe
Place of birth: Las Vegas, United States of America.
Claimed: Nope.
Year-Round or Summer: Year-Round
Years at camp: eleven

Appearance: Quincy has long blonde and wavy hair that reaches down mid-waist, and she hardly ever chooses to cut it. Seriously, the last time she did she was around fifteen years old. Surprisingly, it’s easy to handle and there are hardly any split-ends despite this. She has thick eyelashes framing her lovely eyes, which are a mixture of brown and green. She is pale-skinned and rosey cheeked, and even when she is out in the sun in the summer she doesn’t get much of a golden complexion to her skin. She stands at about 5”6, making her among average height for most girls.
Her dress sense normally consists of jeans and oversized-sweaters, and she is most definitely hipster. [WIP]

Personality: For a girl that was treated like crap until the age of four, Quincy certainly has made a marvelous recovery. She’s the type of girl that, in a group of friends, is always the bubbly one that wants to stay out until past midnight just because she wants to have a laugh. She has a really curious nature, which can normally land her in a lot of crap when she goes snooping at things that she shouldn’t be, but she normally flashes a grin and gets out of there before anyone can catch her. She never really cared about getting in trouble; not at all. She likes trouble; she enjoys the adrenaline rush of being in a position that she would most definitely get punished in if caught. Of course, she wouldn’t go to the extremes of doing something too illegal, but she likes the rush all the same.
She sets challenges for herself; once she dared herself and her best friend to grab a Ares boy’s favourite sword from under his bed without getting caught, when she was only thirteen. She didn’t do it, obviously, but was lucky enough to get away before she would probably face the wrath of the ugly Ares campers. She was a rebel; she didn’t do any of that other crap. She did what she wanted, when she wanted although not by going mean about it. She could never really be mean, although she is extremely witty and sarcastic. Always cracking jokes, you know?
If you spent a week with Quincy, you would have probably done all of the following at least once; laughed, cried, yelled, wet yourself and gotten pretty drunk. Although she had pretty big mood-swings and a temper problem, she is pretty easy to handle if you get close to the girl, and it doesn’t take long. However, she certainly does love to cause a stir. Quince also flirts with anything with a pulse, even if she is pretty much straight.

Fatal Flaws: • Quincy is always getting herself into dangerous positions just for a kick, whether it be physical or verbal. this means that she’ll end up getting hurt badly.
• She’s the type of person that does it first and asks questions later, which sucks for her when she puts her mouth in it and says or does something bad.
• She trusts everyone, and i mean everyone. All you have to do is flash her a grin and she’ll want to talk to you.
Pets: none
Weapons: a celestial bronze sword and shield
Talents: • Quincy has no talents, at least she doesn’t think so, but in future years it will take her longer to start to physically age in appearance.
Face claim: Pixie Lott

Mortal Family:Carter O’riley was Quincy’s horrible father, who was married to an Emma who also wasn’t very nice to Quincy and eventually gave her daughter to a half-crazed yet kind sister named Mary Moore who was the mother that Quincy always wanted. Until she went cray-cray, of course. [WIP]


Brief History:

“Hey, kid, you alright?” Someone asked, grabbing the small blonde girl and pulling her away from the table she had been perched at, eating the delicacy of the Lotus casino. A old teenage boy looked down at her, kneeling so he could look her in the eyes. He reminded her of her friend’s brother. “How long have you been here?”
The girl shrugged, her clear and high voice ringing out among the loud music. “Around twenty minutes, I’m sure.”
The boy looked at when she was wearing compared to his jeans and hoodie, which confused the little girl. She went over to innocently place another piece of food in her mouth but he stopped her, promising her better food if she ‘held tight’ for a little bit. He exchanged a word with some other teenagers with swords on their belt, reminding Quince of her father for some strange reason. When the boy came back over to crouch before he, he placed a comforting hand on her small shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“Quincy O’Riley.” She smiled, dimples pressing into her cheeks. She wanted another Lotus flower but wanted to know what the boy was going to give her first.
“Quincy, we’re going to get you out of here okay? Will you trust us?”
“Of course.”

There wasn’t much to say about Quincy’s life before she entered the casino. Her parents belonged to a wealthy family during the nineteenth-century, her father working as the headmaster at a local boys school in Nevada. She was always brought up to follow in her mother’s footsteps; to become a suitable woman for a man to marry. That was really it, and therefore the mischievous child was never capable of being able to stay quiet and sensible for long. She caused a stir in the household, her stern parents even struggling to keep their family well-presented and her with them. She didn’t behaved like most young girls acted, and her ignorant and cruel parents wanted nothing to do with her. Emma had a sister named Mary who had no children of her own and in a marriage, and was infertile. To benefit them both, Quincy’s parents gave her to Mary’s keeping, making no attempt to see her daughter again.
Quincy grew to the age of six in mary’s keeping, being taught at home the wonders of maths and English. At least she was getting some form of education compared to the harsher life she had lived before. It didn’t take long for people to realise that the girl, despite being kind and playful, wasn’t very good at reading words or keeping up. She was clever, although her reading was lacking highly. Mary couldn’t read herself, so they just didn’t teach her. they helped her though, and Quincy really became part of the community. The young girl would go and play with the children next door when their parents were out, helping to lighten the atmosphere in the neighbourhood. She would also go on errands for her uncle, going around the houses in their street in search of scraps of food to feed their animals that the McCloskey's kept in their farm. She really did keep the spirit alive in the area, even if her parents hadn’t wanted her.
Just after her sixth birthday, however, things started to get a little wild for the young daughter of Hebe. Things started playing up; her aunt astarted to say that she was seeing things. Red eyes in the dark of the night, and feeling of people watching her all the time, claws. For a human, the mist around her life was very weak, which caused many to think that the poor women was delusional. Her husband, Eduardo, wasn’t sure what he should do. he loved Mary and Quincy, he really did, but as a privileged and important man in the community during this time he thought it best to stay a ay a little while. He offered Mary an appointment with the local doctor, but she was having none of it.
Then it happened; the house was ripped to shreds b the thing Mary had been wittering about. She took her niece with her to the first carriage she could find, getting as far away as possible. She didn’t end up too far away though, only to the other end of the town to a large building that would later be known as the infamous Lotus casino. Stowing Quincy away safe in there, mary went to draw attention from the girl only to get herself killed. Mary was never seen again, marked insane and widely-thought of as a psychopath that tried to kill her own niece in a house fire gone wrong.
Quincy stayed under the influence of the casio for over a hundred years, eventually being freed by a group of teenage demigods that had been passing through for a quest. They did a detour and took her back to camp, where she eventually learnt how to be a kid in the twenty-first century. Now, eleven years later, she hardly remembers anything about her old life but relishes telling people how old she technically is, because their face is absolutely priceless.

Name: Sophie Amelie McCann
Nickname: Soph.
Birthday: 16th of May, 1998
Age: Fourteen, sadly. Nearly Fifteen,
Godly parent: Thalia, the muse of comedy.
Place of birth: Startfrod, Ontario, Canada.
Claimed: Yep.
Year-Round or Summer: Year-Round
Years at camp: Uno

Appearance:

Personality: The first thing many people notice about Sophie is how…loud she is, and that is putting it likely. She is the type of person that will, and has (countless times) be out with you on a weekend and start running to hide behind trees and roll all over the floor, practically yelling out the theme tune for Mission Impossible. Unless you can handle public humiliation – as it is probably likely to happen if you hang out with her – then you are better off without going out with her. She will do things that seem stupid and immature and that makes people do a double take, all in order to make at least one person laugh or smile. She will just get off the floor, dust herself off, laugh at herself and continue to walk as if nothing had ever happened. That’s just how she rolls.
Another thing about Sophie is that she is really quite clever, despite having dyslexia. Although, even since she was young she has always wanted to perform, whether it be singing or acting or as a comedian. She has always been able to make others giggle at quick, improvised jokes, and not really been amazing in the musical area. Don’t get her wrong; you will probably never see the fourteen year old without her earbuds hanging from the collar of her shirt or in her ears, but she isn’t amazing at it. She is confident on stage though; she feels at home on stage, looking down at the people that stare intently at her. She can’t describe the buzz that she received after hearing applause and getting off; hearing people woot and cheer her on after she has done her thing and try not to smile too much. Sophie is, and doesn’t deny it, an attention-seeker, yet not in a bad way…if that is possible. She's the type of girl that will have always been and used to being the one making cocky and cheeky jokes in class, yet has the charisma to normally get away with speaking out without receiving a detention of some sort. She really doesn't understand it, but she guess she has thing thing about her where she can get along with almost anyone.
She, shamefully and honestly, flirts with anything with a pulse...including girls. It sounds a bit different, considering that for the last fourteen-practically-fifteen years of her life she has sweared down that she was straight, but she still flirts like crazy. If you aren't ready for the hugging and intimate affection that comes with Sophie - which varies from hugs to kisses on the cheeks for guys - then you are really going to have a difficult time around her because she does not understand the concept of personal space at the best of times.
But then there is the other side of Sophie, which is depressed and sad. Not many people get a glimpse of this, because she has always been able to hide it pretty well. She suffered from frequent panic attacks around the age of thirteen, and during the summer after her thirteenth birthday she scarcely went out; she was just anxious and jumpy all the time. She would stay in her room on her own for hours, not going out much at all.

Fatal Flaws: •
Pets: none
Weapons:
Talents: •
Face claim: Chloë Grace Moretz

Mortal Family:

Brief History:

Name: Damon Adreas Christos
Nickname: None
Birthday: June 5th, 1994
Age: Eighteen
Godly parent: Aphrodite
Place of birth: Dallas, Texas, United States of America.
Claimed: Yes; Damon was claimed after a few weeks of being at camp.
Year-Round or Summer: Year-round.
Years at camp: Four.

Appearance: The first thing most people notice about Damon is his hair. It is a natural color of jet black like his father's had one been and is usually styled to be pushed up as high as possible to add a couple of inches to his height. He stands at around 5"11 so you can see why he would do anything to try and make himself taller and peak six-foot. He doesn't really use any products on it other than hairspray, and that is only because his siblings expect him to. In the front of his hair is a streak of dyed blonde from when he wanted a change of the all black. He doesn't really care if experimenting goes wrong because his appearance isn't on the top of his worries.
Onto his eyes, which are framed with really noticeable black eyelashes and are a light honey brown in color. They match perfectly with both his hair and the golden color to his naturally-tanned skin so he is like the foreign package-deal. Damon never really has bags under his eyes because he always gets enough sleep in the night to make sure that he doesn't physically 'suffer' from this lack of rest. Above his eyes are thick black eyebrows that are also the same color as Damon's hair.
Damon has quite a strong jawline and nicely-sculptured lips. Normally he is cleanly shaven but on more-rare occasions the eighteen year old may simply put off shaving or a longer period of time and therefore have dark brown stubble on his cheek and upper-lip. He obviously doesn't leave it like this before it can become untamable, but people do notice when he hasn't shaved. All in all Damon is quite a muscular and well-sculptured teenager. He chooses to work out to make sure that he is always in shape and not letting himself go. His dress sense can range from just a pair of jeans to a pair of sweats that one may wear for more comfort than anything else.

Personality: Damon is an emotionally scarred eighteen year old that has probably been through enough torment and grief to fill many other people his age. For a great deal of his life he was without love and was only neglected; because of this, he doesn’t really get close to many people. He has very few friends because he has never been used to allowing people to be close to him and he is extremely wary when new people are around. He isn’t a naturally trusting person even if he is loyal to those few he does actually trust and will not abandon them in any case. Because he went through a period of depression a few years back, he sometimes gets unhappy and locks himself in a room for hours on end although he is pretty much over most of the torment that he had to go through. He really struggles with stress though and he knows that getting close to people will normally cause someone stress. This is another reason why he is a little bit of a loner.
Deep down, when you are actually close to the son of Aphrodite, he is quite nice. He will never been the sweetest or kindest guy around because of his harsh life, but he doesn’t like making people feel down or bad because he knows how it feels to be bullied. He has a weird sense of humour and can sometimes be really quite serious when he chooses to. He doesn’t really laugh at peoples jokes even though he knows he should and Damon doesn’t understand what he has to do to keep people close to him. He sometimes says things that he doesn’t think would offend himself but doesn’t realise it might someone else and this therefore makes it even harder for him to get close to people. Damon Christos really isn’t a negative boy, but he has had things happened to him that can make him seem a little moody and grumpy. He is a little, to be fair, to those that don’t know him. He can be blunt and stubborn, but he has the best of intentions really.

Fatal Flaws:
• Damon, although he is pretty much over it all, sometimes gets a little flare of depression. This can sometimes lead him to do things that could inflict harm upon himself.
• The eighteen year old never lets anyone in or trusts anyone easily, so he doesn't have many friends or people that would stick up for him.
Pets: Damon has a golden Labrador dog called Sherlock.
Weapons: A plain celestial bronze sword and shield.
Talents: Damon doesn't really have many talents, although he is very good at manipulating people around him to became slightly biased to a certain decision or thing. He doesn't notice this though or how to use it. He doesn't have enough people around him to even notice it.
Other: Damon has a slight speech impediment as he was taught English at such a late age for most and sometimes stutters when he becomes stressed.
Face claim: Zayn Malik
Colour: #2e9afe

Mortal Family: Nathaniel Christos was born in one of the smaller Greek island within the Ionian sea and was immediately brought up within the company and care of many other Greeks and fellow citizens around him. His father before him had never been a very humble or sensible man and his mother had divorced him when Nathaniel was thirteen as he had entered jail much too many times. Nathaniel had a weird urge to follow in his father’s footsteps, being manipulated enough beforehand. By the age of twenty he had dodged the fuzz enough time to become addicted to the feeling of danger. He decided to move over the America to continue with his ambitious business of hurting, using and taking control of all that was around him. Nathaniel was a very good looking man though and was soon pursued by the goddess of love herself. He was lumbered with their love child, of course, but ‘it had been worth it’.

Brief History: The year Damon had been born; Nathaniel had been staying at one of the apartments that one of his friends owned. So technically, Damon had been officially born in Dallas, Texas, although Nathaniel was too out of it to actually remember where the actual one night stand had happened. He had immediately hated his newborn son as his ‘business’ had been forced to take a quick halt as he resorted to changing diapers and wiping up puke. His business, you may ask? Well, Nathaniel Christos had always been an ambitious man that had been ‘creative’ enough to get an idea and hunt it down. He had chosen the idea of bullying and intimidation, pushing people around to fetch him things and do his bidding. It had started off with a little bit of meth dealing; no biggie, right? But it had eventually expanded into activities such as pushing people around for the side money and making people feel small by beating up their families and blackmailing. Nathaniel was an evil man who wanted nothing to do with his young boy and only held onto him in a hope to someday find an offer to see the boy on for a suitable amount of cash.
Dragging this young boy along with him to every different state he would hide in, there was no doubting that Nathaniel was treating Damon like crap. He was making his accomplices look after the child and would do anything to be rid of him. By the age of three Damon had realised that his own father hated his guts and do anything to be rid of him, but he didn’t have the time or effort to do anything but his dirty acts to get money and then run. He was talked to and hardly even acknowledged; he would just sit in the corner and would take anything that was given to him. Nathaniel would hand him a pathetic amount of disgusting ‘food’ a few times a day and would sometimes send one of the women around to look after the child and give him whatever the heck he needed. Damon wasn’t anything important to his father and was practically just a piece of furniture.
Eventually, when Damon was around six years old, his father had got enough of a higher offer to finally move the boy on to a women that had been close to the man for some sick reason. She wasn’t cruel or harsh herself – really, she was kind at heart – and had paid thousands and thousands of dollars to the spineless and cruel man just so she could see the child under a warm room and with some love. She took forth the role of his mother before realising how declined the boy had been. He could barely speak a word of English or any other language, and was much to loud and hyperactive to be taught easily. She started to home school the child, firstly teaching him English as it was the only language she personally spoke and one of the most popular languages spoke in New York. Then he went to a public school when he hit eleven, learning the compulsory subjects that one would ‘need’ in future life. He was always bad at it; like really bad, but his ‘mother’ Mariah had decided it best that he went anyway. Damon was never able to keep up with the standard that all other kids his age reached due to his strong ADHD and dyslexia so he was bullied and mocked a little bit. Because of this he is a little wary of people to this day, and he really doesn’t like being made to feel like crap. Because of everything he had been through as a child and now being picked on at this age, he was always quite sad. Around the start of his teenage years, he went through quite a period of depression which affected him quite heavily. He was taken to a regular guidance counsellor at school who tried to help him in the best possible ways but it didn’t help that much, The teenager was still pretty depressed because of being bullied about many stupid things and struggling in nearly aspect of his life. This led him down many different struggles and paths; ranging from locking himself in his room from hours alone to getting suicidal thoughts to do something that he may later regret. Luckily, Mariah had always been around to keep an eye on Damon during this dark phase for the fourteen year old, but he had come very close to doing something that would end him life forever. She took him to the hospital immediately after he tried to swallow the pills, thankfully not being able to get enough down in time before she burst in and found him. It was the last straw; she was done with him and his problems.
He was attending even more frequent counselling sessions and wouldn’t be let out of anyone’s sight for a second, but somehow Nathaniel was able to slip into their life again and take the fourteen year old without being caught. It was easy for Damon’s father to track him down using school data and social media so all he had to do was wait for his son to get out of the door to the house and grab him before he could even get in the car. He did so successfully, pushing Mariah and hurting her badly in an attempt to get Damon out of her clutch. The last time Damon ever saw her was when she fell back on the concrete ground, passing out.
Nathaniel kept his own son hostage, driving him across the large city, stopping him from leaving despite any protests. There was nothing to do; it was all out of his hands. Damon demanded to know where he was being taken, close to having a mental breakdown, until Nathaniel pulled up the car in the middle of the woods. He dragged him son out into the night and they were both immediately met by two men they held a parcel in their hands. Damon was being sold for the second time in his life, like a slave. The moment Damon was being pushed towards the two burly looking men, all hell broke loose. Sirens burst out from every direction and the fourteen year old boy could do nothing but gain his balance and run into the darkness of the night. Just when his feet couldn’t go on much further, he found a large doorway to what seemed to be a camp although an older kid with a large sword jumped out at him. Damon has been at camp ever since.
Additional; Damon got over his depression at the age of fifteen with the help of all the mentors, Chiron and his siblings. Other than that, he is still pretty reserved and scarred.

Name: Xavier Daniel Winterson
Nickname: Zave
Birthday: December 13th, 1996
Age: Sixteen
Godly parent: Hades; Lord of the Underworld
Place of birth: New York, United States of America
Claimed: Yes; Zave was claimed after a week of being at camp
Year-Round or Summer: Year-Round
Years at camp: A few months

Appearance: Xavier has an oval-shaped face but with rounded cheeks and a pointed chin. He appearance and facial features are relatively soft and full, although should no be mistaken for chubbiness. No; Zave has little fat on him as he has been running for most of his life. He is not chubby in any part of his body. His cheeks are the same colour as the rest of his fast, but beauty spots and freckles cover them where the ‘sun has kissed him’. His eyes are then quite narrow and framed with thick and dark lashes that touch the surrounding skin because of their length. The colour of his eyes is quite strange as they neither stay the same or change, if that is possible. . It is nothing unusual, in his opinion, as it is normal for boys with dark hair to also have dark parts in their eyes. Overall, they are a light and pleasant shade of green with only few flecks of brown in there, but with a darker rim around the edge. Above these eyes are his black eyebrows which are neither thin nor bushy. They are just in the middle and, if anything, make the darkness of his eyes stand out even more.
What is to say about Zave’s nose? It is straight forward, but has a small bulge in the centre. This is not because he has broken it or anything, but because it is just in his genes to have this style of nose. It is a mix between a Roman type of nose and a bumpy nose, although Xavier has never really gone out of his way to identify the ‘type’ of nose he has. He honestly doesn’t really care. On his nose is a darkened beauty mark that is also prominent along his golden complexion.
Onto Zave’s lips, with are naturally quite red and pinkish, and many may think that he may be wearing tinted lip-balm or something a girl might wear, but no. He is just ‘lucky’ enough that his mother happened to throw in small splashes of her own features into this fifteen year old boy. His bottom lip is a little bit fuller than his bottom, and also sports a lips ring that he had done when he was fourteen. He likes it, although sometimes worries that he might catch it on an item of clothing or something similar and it will pull, splitting part of his lip. He is just paranoid, most likely. It has never happened before, so why should it happen now?
Then Xavier's hair, which is a dark-brown in colour and around the same shade that the flecks in his eyes are. It is slightly curly and wavy, stands sticking out no matter how much he attempts to flatten it down. His mothers hair was indeed curly, so he got it from her. It is cut regularly and he always keeps it in the same style; pushed to one size and short yet thick. On the right side, where it is pushed down, it covers slightly over the edge of his eyebrow. He wants a piercing here, but this puts him off it; he would never be able to see it anyway, and it might get caught on his hair.
The sixteen year-old stands at a respectable height of 5"12 and is unsure whether he has finished hitting puberty yet, so there still might be room to grow. His voice as nearly finished breaking, and it sometimes cracks now and again which completely wrecks his style. His muscles, from lifting weights throughout his childhood years are quite well-pronounced, and his torso is flat. He doesn't really let himself gain weight, and you will often find him jogging laps around camp most morning in order for him to try and keep his physique. He does the camp routine also, which helps, but he really doesn't want to take any chances. His fashion-sense isn't anything risky; normally just a pair of skinny jeans and a hoodie, or a polo-shirt. Because he had been living in a care-home for a substantial amount of time before entering camp, he never had the opportunity to splash out on expensive clothing, so he has got used to having the same as what most had.

Personality: All through his life people have struggled to know what to think about Xavier. He was different with different people. Around adults and people that held authority, he could be quite quiet and solemn, not knowing what to think of them. In general, he didn’t like the prospect of growing up and becoming an adult himself; you couldn’t blame the boy, considering that every adult he had ever been around had failed and abandoned him. He can be blunt and unresponsive towards people over the age of thirty or those that think that they could have any power over him, and doesn’t even give a damn about what they think about him. He really doesn’t take authority kindly, and finds it stupid that a teenager could have control over a cabin full of others his age. If he could, he would throw a riot so teenagers actually got some power and influence nowadays.
Around his friends and other kids however, Xavier is almost a completely different person. Once he is in his comfort zone, the boy can be reckless, wild and uncontrollable. Well, even more uncontrollable than he normally is. It’s all about the fun and laughter, and he normally wants to chill with just his friends and his skateboard. Nothing more, nothing less. He doesn’t or never has had enough money to do anything like go to the cinema every week, so he is really just fine with finding and making his own means of entertainment; which can differ from being a vandal to talking.
Everyone has a secret and dark side though, and Zave had a larger one than most. His impulsivity and wildness can lead him to say something he doesn’t mean or than hurts something else, and he finds it then difficult to make up with them; he is quite an awkward boy around these situations, even those he is pretty confident in every other way. Except with girls. He is terrible with girls. At least once a day you will find Xavier on his own as he tries to control his ever-growing anger and frustration with the world, and if you do then good luck, because the sixteen year old is practically unapproachable. He will undoubtedly snap at you and he broke his hand when he was fourteen from when he got so angry and punched a wall.
All in all, the boy is pretty unpredictable. One minute he can be laughing and grinning, and the next he can be angry and the vein on his neck could be sticking out. Try not to get on the wrong side of him, or boss him around; you’ll certainly regret it.
Fatal Flaw: • There is nothing wrong with Xavier…at least, not physically. Mentally, he is a wreck. He sometimes catches himself having quite disturbing thoughts about things that would be better off not mentioned. He would never in a million years act on his throats, but it scares him quite a bit. He is unsure whether he trusts himself enough not to do anything stupid. He is too much like Reese, most certainly. Any attempt to tell him this though and you will end up with a black eye, and a heap of enemies.
• Zave is scared to experiment with any of his abilities or powers. This is why he doesn’t really want to get into the habit of fighting with any more luxurious and fancy weapons; because he doesn’t know what he might do with it.
Weapons: Zave has been given a special sword. The sword is almost like a flashlight and when in the darkness it can be used to light up the area, giving the surrounding area a ghostly, soft green glow. it can also be used to collect shadows and use it for his own purpose. The way the sword works is that Zave touches a shadow with his sword and the sword sucks up the shadow, making the sword more powerful or he can choose to saved the shadow and then release it whenever he pleases. Releasing the shadow can also hide Zave for a moment in time. the amount of time Zave is hidden depends on the size of the shadow. {a gist from Zan’s mystery box yolo]
Talents: • Like most children of Hades, Xavier can shadow-travel. However, it takes a serious amount if energy out of the sixteen year old, and he finds it quite painful both physically and mentally. He has done it twice in his life, both times fainting and falling to the ground. He doesn't wish to learn how to use this talent more-successfully or even acknowledge how 'amazing' it may be.
• Although he can't exactly summon the dead, Zave can indeed feel the life travel from a corpse to the afterlife, and the pull gives him a twisted sort of spark. It is indeed very sick, so he doesn't share this with anyone.
Pets: None.
Face claim: Harry Styles
Colour: #2C3D86

Mortal Family: “She was amazing. Through everything, she was the only damn person that ever had any sense to do something right.”
Janette Winterson was immediately set to fail. She was born into a family where teenage pregnancy had already occurred once, and didn't really care about school or anything important along those lines. She detested the idea of working in an office, and chose to be unemployed instead. She really doesn't live up to the stereotype that people have of her. She was a kind and loving woman that had just been too vulnerable to be able to cope with her abusive boyfriend. She had had a one-nigh stand with Hades - who posed as a 'Roger' - when she had been feeling worse than she had in a long time. He had been relatively sympathetic and kind towards her, and she fell for him.

“I hate him. He killed mom. If I got my hands on him, I would…”
Reese Theodore had been the mechanic at a local garage when he and Janette had first met, but he soon developed a drug-shifting business on the side when money became a struggle. He was a ruthless man, and wouldn't let Janette leave him once she discovered this.

“I miss them.”
Solomon and Rupert Theodore were Xavier's half-siblings, a pair of identical twins that were so mischievous that they would half be expected to be children of Hermes.

Brief History: Xavier Daniel Winterson was born into a family were his mother received the back of her boyfriend’s hand regularly, his older brothers had already grown up around this and thought of it as normal, and with a father that had done a runner as soon as her mother found out she was pregnant. There wasn’t a single hope in hell that he was going to have it easy and receive a moderately normal childhood. Not when his unknown father was actually the man that could control and summon the dead, and struck fear into people on a daily basis. The family had no reason to believe any of this though; of course not. Everyone thought that Reese was the father; everyone but Janette. But a slither of doubt found its way in the back of Reese’s mind from the moment Zave was born. With both sons and parents being fair-haired, it was peculiar that this newborn son had hair that resembled close to black. Self-consciously Reese picked this up, and therefore his beatings would soon become slightly harder on the kind and caring mother.
For the first few years of life, Xavier grew up in the small and enclosed apartment in one corner of New York, his’ father’ Reese spending most hours of the day out doing dodgy deals to keep the family floating level with the rest of the world, who were entering the start of a memorable economic depression. His older brothers were constantly picking on the small child, both being twins and two years above him, and his mother would struggle to cope. It was no surprise that he soon developed this isolation-attitude, the toddler normally finding a cupboard or bed to crawl under until his family found him. He was perfectly content with playing with his action figures or any other ways of finding entertainment. The young child could already tell that playing on your own was easier than accompanying any one else, so he decided to do just that.
He was three when Zave came across his first dead thing; a small mouse that had found itself trapped inside one of Reese’s cages but also dosed up on the rat poison that was scattered along the corners of the wooden floor. Xavier had been finding his own means of entertainment as per usual, far away from the slow stumbles of his mother and boisterous brothers, and came across it in the corner of his parent’s closet. His first reaction had been of wonder and curiosity, and the impulsive young child had quickly moved forward to get a closer look at the corpse of the mouse. The next thing you know, you hear the high-pitched scream from Janette as she goes to get a cardigan and finds her youngest son playing with a dead creature. It would cause any mother a reason for concern; especially when your son then turned around and stated that he liked dead things. She soon gave him a long one-sided discussion on why you should stay out of mommy’s closet and not touch anything inside the metal cages. Xavier promised he wouldn’t, in return for a cookie, but he still couldn’t help it. From that point onwards, most of the games he would play would be about death. Not killing; no, Xavier was never violent and he hated it when his brothers would demand to fight with him, but just…death. With the chaos that surrounded his home, death seemed like the peaceful option for the boy.
Xavier was five when everything kicked off, although it was many years too late. Reese had been late for work for the last time after one of the twins had broken his alarm clock, and he eventually lost his job. Loosing his temper worse than he ever had before, he went on a rampage. Both Solomon and Rupert had been in school when this happened, but Janette had been in the middle of cooking Xavier food when he burst through the door. Zave didn’t remember any of it, but his mother had screamed at him for the boy to get inside his bedroom. Reese lashed out, blaming Janette for everything that had gone wrong with his life. The stress of having this large family, the fact that she only worked part-time as a teaching-assistant, how she always pressured him to go and see a counselor about his temper and a heap of other exaggerations that had initially started from a spark of paranoia in his head. One push was what it took for his frail girlfriend to loose her footing, slamming the back of her head against the marble counter top and falling limp to the cold floor, dead.
The evidence was stacked up to high for Reese to get away with anything less than murder, immediately being arrested. He didn’t even attempt to deny of the charges, and the abusive man felt incredibly guilty for everything he had done. He felt back for the children, and disgusted that he had done it. Sentenced with life, it only took a few months for the man the put himself out of his misery and killing himself in his jail-cell, wanting an escape and be punished in hell for what he had done rather than have to live with his grief for the next fifty years or more. He was done with everything; he was done with life.
What of the children? They were immediately sent to the next willing-member of the family; Janette’s mother and their grand-parents. The boys weren’t easily for the older women, but she also received a lot of help from the children’s aunties and uncles, and the grand-mother’s friends. Xavier had been closest with his mother as they had always been so alike. It was hard for him, and the child closed himself from everyone else. He wouldn’t eat, he would have nightmares, and he most-certainly wouldn’t play. He was a walking lump, and the kid had to attend a doctor’s session every week to try and get ‘better’, but it didn’t work. The only option left was for the family to split up; Xavier being taken into care and the twins staying with the family. That was the last time Zave ever saw Solomon and Rupert; a shriek-filled goodbye on a Friday afternoon, tears running deep down each child’s face.

"I hated the care home. I was full of stuck-up turds that thought it was good to go and wind everyone up. They didn't want me there, so I left. Well, they moved me to another one, but same thing. It's all a bunch of bull anyway."

From the age of ten, Xavier had already developed an image to adults that he was quite a troubled child; how he wouldn't let many close to him and misbehave all the time. He didn't get on with any of the people from his first care-home, staying there until he was taken in by a foster family. They seemed kind enough and like they genuinely wanted to look after this young boy. Well, until he screwed everything up by getting expelled from his school. They realized that the young boy was going to be a lot more work than they had first thought, and they took the cowards way out by 'giving him back' as if he was a faulty object, not a person. No wonder he was difficult, and it got worse when the care-home that he had been at for the last five years didn't even want him back. He was forced to move out of the city, moving to another in the middle of seemingly-nowhere. It wasn't as if he was cruel or mean; no, there was just something about him that made him seem... broken and beyond-repair. For a little kid, this could have an effect on him that would cast a shadow over the rest of his life. He spent the next years practically alone, with his bare white walls and his comforter.
But then Wayne came along; a enclosed and quiet man that didn't have or want a family of his own. Zave had been fifteen, messing around with his small group of friends from his high school at an old house. As a dare, Xavier had thrown a brick at one of the windows ad it had shattered through. The rest of them had done a quick escape, but Xavier had hung around just long enough to catch a glimpse of the dark-haired man that had limped to the doorway, Zave feeling like he was from a scene of a horror movie. He sprinted away, obviously, but he could never shake away the feeling of the man's eyes watching him and he made his way down the street. He didn't think he would see him again, and there was certainly no chance of the police crossing his mind, but he did; he would be seeing a lot more of the unknown man.
A month later, the sixteen year old had been making his way to his school from his children's home, which was a half-an-hour walk away. A car sped down the strip of road and skidded to a halt besides Xavier. In a panic, he dropped his bag and started to sprint away but the group of people in the car was too fast; grabbing the teenager and bundling him up inside the car. He hadn’t even had enough time to let out a yell for help, and the group of adults easily dominated his strength. It was terrifying for the boy, and even more so when he found out that the mount from the old house was one of them.

"Let me go!" Zave yelled, the sixteen yer old jerking around in a unsuccessful attempt to escape from the blonde-guy's grip. It was no use; his strength couldn't match the body-builder's. "What do you want from me, you-" Transforming the end of his sentence into a string of profanities. They just watched him, some letting out a quick and harsh laugh whereas others looked pained. Were they pained because they held some sort of guilt and had that voice telling them that they were wrong in the back of their minds? Zave was unsure.
"Xavier. Calm down." The man from the old house told him calmly, but the sixteen year-old's blood started to boil. "We need you."
"Me? What? Why?" He whispered, still struggling. If he did get out of the van, there was no way he would be able to jump out and survive; not when they were travelling at the speed they were. "And how did you know my name?" Okay, so this was really freaking scary now.
"We've been watching you."

For the next few weeks, Xavier would become a animal in a cage to his captors. They took him to a flat - a nice one, I might add - and asked him things. At least, for the first week they did. It started off with moderately normal questions, like where you were born and such before finally expanding into the type of discussions that Xavier struggled to find an answer for. Before long, he was even wondering if anyone was actually trying to look from him; if the police were even involved. It wasn't like he would be missed. He was just a care kid, with a dad - or at least, he believed it was his dad at the time - for a father and a dead mother. There was no reason for him to be saved, and the other care-kids wouldn't mind sharing out his measly small amount of pocket money between them.
But then they did something unexpected; they held out a dead bird, placing it on the ground in front of his feet. At first Xavier could only question them and their purpose, yelling at them yet again to tell them that they were sick before calming down. The same answer was repeated over and over though; "What do you want to do with it?" The teenager was lost for words by that point. He wanted to be repulsed by it and shun away from it, but he found himself wanted to prod it with his index finger and pick it up. The emotions within him sort of made himself feel sick, but he couldn't help it. He would later learn that it was part of who he was.
Before he could touch the dead creature, the muscled guy with sandy blonde hair pulled a small dagger that he had concealed in the waistband of his jeans, holding it out in front of him quickly. Xavier struggled against his ropes, thinking that he was going from him and surprised when the blonde guy - Oscar - stood in front of him defensively instead. The rest all happened in a flash, but before he knew it a bunch of unconscious bodies were on the floor and Oscar had untied Zave and was pulling him along with him into the van outside.
Armed with no training or no weapon, Xavier had no clue how he was meant to get out of this thing alive. One of his captors…was helping him escape? It was honestly like something out of a movie, and Zave felt the need to pinch himself to see if it was real or not.

“Hermes.” The blonde guy looked over at him quickly, pushing the gear-stick of the van into a gear and quickly speeding down the road. Xavier blinked, struggling to understand what that meant. Oscar seemed to be able to tell that Zave needed a little bit more of a prompt into what he should say. “I’m a son of Hermes. You’re Hades, right? Obviously.”
“I…have no clue what the hell you’re talking about? Are you high?”
“Hmmm. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Feeling like he was inside something like Grand Theft Auto, it wasn’t long before Xavier was skidding to a halt and kicked out at the entrance of a summer camp; Camp half-Blood. He’s been there ever since.

Note from Welshy: You can just tell that I lost patience at the end of the history and rushed it. Whatevs.

Name: Jason Drew Barnes
Nickname: Jase
Birthday: July 5th, 1994
Age: Eighteen
Godly parent: Apollo
Place of birth: “So, I was born in the city of angels...”
California, United states of America
Claimed: Yup.
Year-Round or Summer: Year-Round
Years at camp: One and a half

Appearance: Jason is pretty proud of how puberty had bish-slapped him across the face. He used to be, not geeky, but a lot younger looking around two years ago. That really has made a substantial difference to how he is, acts and looks and the way people think of him. Jason's hair can be worn in a multitude of different ways, although lately he normally slicks it with gel and has it spiked up. The sides of Jason's light brown hair have been shaved short, and without product his hair is messy and untamable. His is normally running his hands through it if it is bare, and he's used to it so the habit doesn't annoy him anymore.
On to Jason's eyes, which are a beautiful golden brown in colour, and seem almost liquefied at times. They are shaped with long and thick eyelashes that go lighter at the tip of the lash. Jase has been told that he has nice eyes, which makes him shrug. He doesn’t really understand it. The son of Apollo also has full lips and few beauty marks located besides mouth and eyes, and on other parts of his body. He also, doesn’t really think much of these either, or anything of his physical appearance. He sometimes, like most his age, gets spots but enough zit-cream can fix and tidy that up.
The young man is quite tanned and tall, standing at about 6”0 after late growth-spurts. He was naturally muscular, but has lately been working harder to maybe get more muscular; he denies trying to impress people, but he is only doing it to attractive the girl's attention.
Finally; Jase's dress sense, which is pretty schizophrenic. Most days, he settles with a pair of chinos, jeans or shorts, always wearing them pretty low on his hips and revealing his boxers at the back, like modern-day fashion. However, he has been known to wear quite weirder things, like a bandana tied around his forehead and fake black glasses.

Personality: Like any other eighteen year old these days, Jason really is just looking for a good time. He doesn't really go wild that often, seeing as he is so busy with training and his music, but when he does party, he parties hard. He's an easily excitable teenager and is very loud and hyper. It is like he is a little kid sometimes. He is a sweet guy, really, although he doesn't always knows how to please everyone. He just enjoys a laugh with his mates, and sometimes he can be a little be obnoxious into people's choices. He can get so excitable that he can forget about things, dates or people and that sometimes comes back to bite him in the butt.
Jason has also never known where he belongs. He tries to get on with everyone, and spreads himself too thin. He's confident, and a little cocky. He's not too cocky, thankfully, although he does know that he is good at making people laugh and therefore takes that a little too far. He's also a massive flirt, so a lot of girls realize that he's better as the type of friend to have to look after you than romantically. He isn't good romantically. He's a shamble romantically.
The part of Jase hardly anyone knows about? His shame. Jason his ashamed of himself for letting Lee die that day, and he really just blames himself for all of that. If he hadn't let his hormones get the better of him that day, he didn't think the empousai would've been able to take over his mind and therefore Lee wouldn't have got wrapped up in all of this anyway. That's Jason's logic anyway, although Jason doesn't have the best reputation for being a genius. He should really just stick to music, because all he did in school was mess around and dodge homework. He's really quite mischievous, and will be one of the first to roll on over to the Hermes cabin to have a laugh.

Fatal Flaws: • He really can't prioritize.
• Jason trusts everyone immediately, and then ends up getting hurt.
• His... interest in girls puts him in danger.
Pets: Jase currently has no pets.
Weapons: Jason prefers to use a bow and arrows, with celestial bronze arrow-heads.
Talents: Healing; Like many of his siblings, Jason is able to easily heal those that are wounded. He can't do as much as his siblings and his power isn't as powerful, but he is able to heal cuts and bruises. It drains his energy though, so he only does it if it is life-threatening. He cannot heal himself though, yet he heals faster than most.
Face claim: Justin Bieber

Mortal Family: Victoria Barnes had always enjoyed the rebellious edge of life, leaving school at the age of sixteen and quickly became the partying type of gal. By the age of twenty, she had been impregnated by none other than Apollo on a drunken one-night stand, but hadn't wanted to get rid of the baby. She had him, and a few years later married into a wealthy family.
Brady Collins was the man that Victoria went on to marry, already having two sons and a daughter from a previous marriage. He accepted Jason, who had only been four at the time, and brought him up as if he was one of his own sons. He still, to this day, considers him to be and loves him as much as the others.
There were also Jason's step-siblings; Harry, Callum and Sasha Collins. The four of them were really like any siblings; they had their ups and downs, but no matter how much they may deny it, they cared about each-other really. Although they had been told that they weren’t actually blood related, they never really minded. Harry and Callum were Jason's annoying older brothers and Jason's was protective over his little sister Sasha.

Brief History:

Fingers stoking along the keys as he played, Jason couldn’t help but rock back and forth as the music started to engulf him. There weren’t really words to describe the feeling he had whenever he came in connection to the ivory grand piano that his uncle kept locked away. Despite the joy and awe he always got from playing the instrument, there was always that little feeling in the back of his head that told him that if he was caught playing this style of music with this skill considering the type of people he hung out with, he would be judged a little bit. He was the guy that would be rocking out to alternative rock out on a beach during the long summer days; not locked away secretly in a room, playing pieces from centuries ago.

One of the first big things that Jason ever remembered about his childhood was his mother’s marriage to Brady. They had already been dating as long as Jason could remember, and he had already been brought up to call the man his father. He knew that he wasn’t his father; at least, that’s what his mother told him. He still thought of him as his father anyway. Brady had always been there for him when Jason had needed comfort, and in return Brady would receive his stepsons respect and love. It was a pretty normal family, growing up. The house was always loud and packed, whether it be full of Jason’s little friend amng him or with some of the older and more rowdy teenagers that Callum had smuggled in. It was probably because of always having a full house that Jase dislikes being alone; he feels weak when he’s on his own, which isn’t unusual considering he was always so surrounded growing up.
Jason was always pretty mischievous as he got into elementary and high-school. His older brother Harry was the clever one in the family, him being a straight-A student and all. Then there was Callum, who was the type of kid that you would find smoking weed with his mates behind the bike shed of the school, even if he was a nice guy. He was just easily-pressured, and liked to party a lot, but he would always been Jason’s annoying older brother. And then there was his little sister, Sasha, that was their parents’ princess; so Jason was just left to be the kid in the middle. He was the musical one, playing instruments that included guitar, piano, drums and he sang a little. However, he didn’t know where he would fit in. Yeah, he was the type of guy that could just switch from crowd to crowd when entering his high-school; some days you would find him hanging out with the cheerleaders and the more athletic kids and the next just hanging out with the musicians that normally stayed away from it all. He fell in and went out with the athletic teenagers more though once he hit sixteen, even if they did the sorts of things that he wouldn’t particular choose to do without that influence, yet he still went with them. They would hang out on the beach during the summer, some choosing to surf whilst others tried to get a tan lying down - or, in other words, trying to pull the girls that were trying to get a tan - whilst listening to music. That’s what he would usually do, and he was sort of fine with that, until he entered the competition.
There was a high school talent contest that would be held on a humid night in May, one of Jason’s friends entering his name as what started off as a joke. Jase went along, considering his whole crowd went along to see his friend make a fool of himself, even if they didn’t actually pay enough attention to realise that he was actually musically talented. Although they all had first believed that Barnes would make a fool of himself, he actually got into the semi-final, and after that the final until he won. Yes, he came first place. What had started as a joke had ended up as him actually winning himself a free-year's scholarship at one of the most respected music-colleges around, which just so happened to be on the other side of the country; New York, to be exact. After music hesitation, confusing and deliberation, Jason to take a shot and go for it, even if it meant staying away from his family for every few weeks and staying in one of the student halls provided for him.
At first it was hard; Jason being so far away from his noisy brothers and insufferable parents and spoilt sister, but then Jason grew to love it. He just loved to be surrounded by those that shared the same loves as him, those that understood him for what he liked to do. Although, let’s face it, an unidentified demigod couldn’t go incognito for long now, could he? That would be completely unrealistic...that’s assuming that the rest of the past I’ve just wrote is probable, which it isn’t but whatever. Sue me.
It was a bleak night, the seventeen year old teenager just getting out of his student dinner hall, where they all shared meals. He said he'd meet Jonathan and Lee upstairs to try and finish a paper together after he went to pick up his USB stick from his English class, where he’d left it there after printing his essay off. Two girls his age approached him, having seen them around once or twice before around, although Jase initially thought that they were new. He stopped to talk to them, taking in how beautiful they were. Abnormally, to be exact. And he was strangely attracted to them, although he didn’t know of any guy that wouldn’t be. Falling was an understatement, instead the teenager was dram. Seduced. He couldn’t find words. Even when the two silky-haired girls had transformed into a mutant sort of creature with one donkey leg, the young man was already moving closer towards them. He probably wouldn’t have been able to resist their power either unless the prettiest girl - Monica, she had told him, although that wasn’t true - unless she had a some sort of sword stacked through her torso. As if a slap to the face, Jason leapt back and watch as Lee violently carved the girls the ‘girls’ he had just been chatting up to pieces.
After being vigorously sick all over himself, which hadn’t been very pleasant, Jason really went into some sort of shock. Lee had pulled him away from that area after slashing at them both, and Jase was only more sick over himself when he saw the two hot girls transform into a pile of dust. He was dragged away, not sure what he was meant to do from that point on. Everything was fuzzy and wild. Lee had sat him down, telling him that there was a camp not twenty minutes from campus, and he had to get there. That he would learn things about monsters and who his dad was. Jason didn't really have any other choice than to go with it, not sure whether he was dreaming or not. He packed a bag full of clothes and left in a taxi, Lee handing his friend a small dagger that Jason would conceal beneath the folds of his jeans. He thought that he would be fine to get to this magical place in this safe taxi with his friend. He really did.
And then the taxi driver had to turn around and plunge a knife through Lee's skull.
That's when Jason opened the door and lept out onto the grass, cutting all down his right arm and part of his back. The taxi skidded to a halt, a guy wielding a big-ass sword and a sick grin advancing towards the teenager. Jason really wouldn't have been able to do much. He tried to fight, but their was only so much that shaky hands and a small dagger could do. The more experienced guy took five minutes to kick the dagger away, slicing at Jason. The son of Apollo had only just missed the blade, the tip scratching a scar across his chest. Dozens of beasts and kids in orange t-shirts charged from the trees then, just as Jason passed out.
He woke up to find himself in a type of hospital, being fed something he would later learn was called ambrosia, although tasted like the pizza's his mom made. He decided to stay at camp, seeing as Lee had thought it best for his friend, even if it meant hardly seeing his family. If ever