The Sun Always Sets

Subject: The Sun Always Sets Sun Jan 05, 2014 10:28 pm

Viatrix Morrígan

Age: Seventeen. Or two hundred and fifty one, depending on how you like to count it.
Birthday: January 16, 1761
Gender: Female

God Parent: Chronus
Claimed: Yes
Mortal Family: Braden Morrigan, her brother who had one year on her. Aine Morrigan, her loving mother.
Years in Camp: Nine

Brief History: Long ago, in the age prior to that of the Ceasors lived three daughters of Ares gracefully among the Huntresses, and the greatest of these three shot from Dianna's very right side. The three, however hardy as they were, were not good servants of the Maiden of the Night, and with her own silver bows rebelled against her. They should have been destroyed in an instant, but they were powerful, and held out long enough to flee into colder parts where no god ever dared follow. Oddly enough, they found themselves in a land greener than any slew of ice, and the druids of the land called them 'The Morrigan.'
Fast forward by the millennia and beside this very land lies Olympus itself, or Olympus in its newest form. Beside this growing empire on which the sun never sets few any longer believe in the Morrigan. Few believe in the gods at all, preferring to believe in a single, greater deity whom the great Chiron refuses to discuss. Yet the gods still live, now taking residence above the capital of this ever growing island empire. Unfortunately, despite the nations best interests Loyal Greece and Rebel Rome slash upon one another's necks in bloody civil war. Five Greek demigods were sent to the colonies to pull strings and assassinate Roman revolutionaries, yet effort made in vain they sank into the great sound of New York warfare. Yet one girl survives, and such is where the story of Viatrix Morrigan is to begin.
But before we tell this tale of a girl who fought to save the people she loved from a threat she hated and feared, we must know of the girl in question. Viatrix Morrigan, illegitimate daughter of an illegitimate woman. Told from the beginning of her days she was a sin, a mistake, by all but her darling mother and equally illegitimate brother. Her mother told her she was the daughter of a great man, a scholar of the Italy, and a descendant of one of the three strongest women Ireland ever knew. Believe this, she did not, till the day the day she reached the age of twelve her brother saved her from the great bear. He brought her to a hill in Essex: a campsite in which all of their illegitimate kind could be safe. There she studied and there she grew. Ther she practiced and there she knew. She was a daughter of Chronus, the great peaceful mind governing and watching over the history of all, and she was the decedent of the Morrigan, wages of war and seekers of power. She grew skilled in the art of battle as well as the art of peace, and quested from India to Norway. Yet there was one enemy she could never bear to think of peace with. When war was waged once more by the foul Romans, Vi was on the first ship to their home in the New World. But outwitted by a powder-haired child of Minerva, she and her companions met a unheard end sinking into the waters of Long Island Sound. Yet her father took pity on her. He loved his daughter, but he knew she was too dangerous to live in that point. A chronomancer's predictions could turn the tide of any war, and this war was one the greeks were destined to loose. So the god of time, and seer of all, augmented her chronomancy, but for a few seconds, and as she faced the stress of all she had lost, twenty three decades were skipped. Now the frigid girl swims ashore to the new hill for illigitimate children, unknown to what has happened the past three minutes, and the past two centuries.

Physical Appearance: Vi is five foot eight, tall compared to many of the women of her day, and has a narrow, wiry frame. Tis common for children of a god who masquerades as a snake to be lanky and light on their feet. Other than that, however, she mostly takes after her Black-Irish mother. She has silky, black hair stretching straightly down past her shoulders and pale, pale skin. Her pale blue irises are ringed with purple amidst her striking dark lashes and brows and smooth lower features.

Personality: While her first response to new ideas is as often denial as any other creature, Vi is often someone who is willing to accept new ideas and customs. She has always believed that keeping an open mind is the best way to keep one thinking effectively, and so far it has worked out pretty well. On top of this, she is a perfectionist. No point in leaving something unfinished or doing it only partway, and any project left so gets under her skin. Despite her hard past and often initially harsh demeanor, Vi loves to sit back and have a good time with friends as much as any other teenager. When she's with people she knows she can trust she's a rather light, and often fun individual, but with times as they've been Vi isn't going to be relaxing any time soon.

Fatal Flaw: Hatred. While it is hard for her to ever get to this point, once she finally tips into hatred she seems to fold back on herself. Her open mind closes tight, sometimes even to the point of bigotry, and she finds it impossible to let go. There was a sleazy man who'd tried to move on her as a young girl, and succeeded on her mother twice whom she's done crueler things than PG allows to, and still is not satisfied by her lust for revenge. However, at the moment her hate is pointed more directly at another: Rome.

Pets: All dead.

Talents: Vi is skilled in the art of stealth. She learned early in life that she was more likely to survive encounters with monsters if she had more time to think up of a way to deal with it. At first, hiding and sneaking. However, as she grew in power, stealth became a less viable option against the more sensitive beasties. Luckily there was another ability in her repertoire as the daughter of Father Time himself: Chronomancy.

Weapons: Amledulingleic (Greek "Órgiatinkatis" meaning "A time to fight")- A celestial bronze pocketwatch gifted to her by her father with several magical enchantments. The most noticable of these are the hands. As each hand reaches twelve, Vi may transform it into a celestial bronze weapon, based on the corresponding hand.
Her primary weapon of these is the long, thin second hand, which will transform the watch into a rapier.
The equally long, yet slower moving minute hand transforms the watch into a small crossbow, which can efficiently kill tough enemies when given a few extra minutes to plan an assault.
The final of these weapons is the short, age taking hour hand, which transformed into a heavy, sobering knife. Vi never really knew why her father had left her with this weapon in the most tedious of spots, not until the moment she realised the bronze was not celestial. Then the message became as clear as her face in the blade. Vi had known from an early age that the world was a dangerous place, and the worst creatures out there weren't nessisarily the monsters. Chronus had given her a weapon to be used against mortals, should she ever need it, but he'd put it in the hardest to reach place: one where she'd have to think the hardest, and expend the most energy to reach.
The last enchantment is not based on the hands itself, but the wielder. The watch treats Vi as a fixed point in space, and so, should she ever loose it, she may renew it's age to the last time she held it, and have it back.

Year-Round or Summer: Year round.

Other: I have only read up to Son of Neptune. Will this be a problem?

Subject: Re: The Sun Always Sets Mon Jan 06, 2014 1:20 am

Viatrix Morrigan is approved!

Happy Roleplaying!

Sorry for the confusion. It was totally my fault.

Subject: Re: The Sun Always Sets Fri Jan 10, 2014 12:53 am

Damian Carlos Menzel

Better known as "Ian"

Age: 16
Birthday: August 18, 1997
Gender: Male

God Parent: Notus, god of the South Wind
Claimed: Yes
Mortal Family: Natalia Menzel
Years in Camp: three

Brief History: Damian's story isn't exactly a special one. It's not all too different from that of most demigods, in fact. Ian was born outside Atlanta Georgia to a mostly washed up actress who was barely making ends meat. When they first heard she was running off to become an actress, they were less than supportive. Georgia was the new thing, she had heard. Georgia, where the film incentives were good, and would only be getting better. Ten indifilm credits, a child, and no big breaks later, Natalia's parents were still unsupportive.

"**** 'em," she would always say to little Ian. She was not a conventional mother.

As Ian went through public school he was often labeled as a troublemaker and a class clown because, well, he was a troublemaker and a class clown. He had a way with words, and that way with words often wound up getting him silent lunch (which he always talked through anyway) and, as he grew, after school detention. However, his mouth wan't the only weapon at his disposal. One of his most famous offenses was stealing Mr Schmitter's toupee with a just for kids fishing rod (during a lecture, mind you) while hiding in the tiles of the ceiling. On more than one occasion he was expelled for such pranks, and in the beginning his mother said to the school officials...the same thing she said to her parents. However, as life passed by she took her role as mother more seriously. Yet, of all the parts to take seriously, there was one she always neglected: one she always preferred to push to the back of her mind. That part was the world of the supernatural.

Just after finishing 8th grade, Ian came home to find a lastrigonian invading his home and snapping it's jaws at his mother. Suddenly sensing a demigod, however, the giant turned his attention to the boy. Luckily enough for the Menzel family, his turned out to be a grave mistake on the part of the giant, as it gave his mom the opportunity to put all six bullets into the back of its head. His mother, suddenly feeling horrid for never telling him the truth about his father, had him pack everything essential and get in the car. Twelve hours later she told him to get out and go over the hill, past the pine tree. The people who lived there would be able to help keep him safe.

It took Ian longer than most to adjust to the idea of Greek gods and goddesses being real life deities, even with his father claiming him with a dramatic heated whirlwind upon his entrance. He made fast friends with his roommates in the Hermes cabin (the Hera cabin not open to the children of lesser deities yet), and had lots of fun participating in their various acts of folly. He especially loved to prank the cold natured children of Khione. On the first night of it's completion he ran a system of fans from the back of the Hephaestus cabin to the entrance of the Khione cabin. It took ten days of repair after that night just to get the space functional once more. He learned a lesson about going to far the day afterward, but even so, ever since that day he's had a trend of leaving red pinwheels in front of their cabin, and sitting atop the doorway just before curfew as a reminder of his great feat.

It took a few months, but his mother was able to get back on her feet. She's been a little peeved by the successful Georgian shows like Supernatural and The Walking Dead that took off after she left, but two roles in off Broadway and four in off-off Broadway productions can be cited to say she's doing well. They have a little house in long island, and no expulsions to date. A few suspensions, and it could the school wants to hold tight to the one guy on their all star gymnastics team, but hey! That's still progress.

Physical Appearance: Ian is 5'8" and weighs just over fifty pounds, though you wouldn't know it by looking at him. He is a lean young man, covered in well defined muscle, the kind of guy you'd expect to weigh three times that. Two mischievous black eyes in which you cannot tell the pupil apart from the iris adorn his face. He has a mess of wavy, greasy black hair sticking off in various different directions off of his head, and deep bronze coloured skin. Though he is South American in heritage (Argentinean to be specific), he has a face that could easily pass for Middle Eastern or Indonesian if he wanted to.

Personality: Ian is a troublemaker. Pure and simple. Ian is the kind of guy who gets off on messing with people. Not hurting them, mind you, but simply messing with them. He loves to prank, and he loves to hear himself talk back. Despite how annoying he can be to the respectable types, Ian rarely fails to put a smile on one's face (even if it's only because of the obnoxiously large one he always has on his). He is a witty young man who lives almost exclusively in the present with the energy of a thousand demigods, and that should say something, as all Greek demigods are ADHD.
Fatal Flaw: Foolhardiness. Ian often takes thing one or more steps too far and rarely considers the consequences of his actions.

Pets: "Shakes," his dog somewhere between a mastiff and a black lab, has been a friend of Ian's since before he even knew he was a demigod. He is four years old, and roughly that many feet in height. His real name is Shakespeare, a name Ian's mom gave him to make the dog seem more hospitable to the neighbors. Shakes, however, is a family dog, and tends to spend his days at the family household rather than camp half blood.

Talents: Being the son of a wind god, Ian is unnaturally light. In fact, it baffled doctors as he was growing up. More to the point, this lightness, coupled with his great speed and astounding flexibility, makes Ian a master at both parkour and gymnastics.
Ian is also a very warm person, and when doing things involving intense heat he appears to be resilient and lucky. His prank semimelting the Khione cabin wouldn't have worked had it been attempted by a child of Hermes.
Also, having grown up as the only child of a single triple-threat mother, he grew up singing, dancing, and running lines with her. He's no child of Apollo, but Ian can hold his head high in the performing arts.

Weapons: Indianas (originally "Aitonpono," meaning pain-seeker, but Ian preferred it to be named after his favorite archaeologist) A ten foot black whip with a celestial bronze tip.
Mikrosimeio (though he just calls it "My knife") a tiny celestial bronze knife.
Year-Round or Summer: Summer, although he lives on long island, and often visits.

Other: Ironically I wrote up this hot-blooded character while listening to the Frozen soundtrack...