”I’m sorry I haven’t seen you in so long, Stella. I know how lonely it can be… But, I’ve found somewhere we can be together.” - Eden

General Information

Relationships

Appearance

Backstory
Stella Marzec’s earliest memories are shrouded in a haze, a blur of moments that seem to slip through her fingers no matter how hard she tries to hold onto them. Orphaned at a young age, she and her older sister Eden were placed in a community home after the sudden disappearance of their parents when Stella was just three. Eden, eight years her senior, was her protector and her closest confidante, the one person in the world who seemed to want to look after her. For years, they were inseparable. But when Stella was 10, Eden suddenly left. She remembers the day vividly. Eden stood at the door, waiting for her cab with an ethereal patience, telling Stella with a thin smile that she needed to leave for a while but would return. A promise yet to be fulfilled. Since then, Stella’s life has been marked by a painful absence. Her memories of their time together are scattered, but she clings to them fiercely, remembering Eden as both protector and a guiding light in her life.
At sixteen, Stella became increasingly obsessed with finding her estranged sister. For months on end, she has traveled around the country, convinced that Eden is just a letter away from coming home. Stella writes to her regularly, sending return letters to every address that reaches her, each one filled with hopeful words and pleas for a reunion. In the cherished letters Stella receives, Eden tells her sister that she’s safe, that she’s still thinking of her, and that their reunion is near on the horizon. Stella has been chasing these elusive letters for longer than she knows, convinced that they are a sign that she is on the right path. She now pursues the address of the most recent, and most promising, letter: “Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill, Farm Road 3.141, Long Island, New York.”

Demigod Information

Powers
Currently unknown.
Stat Block

Present
Stella marched solemnly through the dense woods. The early winter air was thinned by the new season’s chill. Her movements seeming to be the only objection to the grove’s stillness. Her body was newly sore from some journey; her legs shaking with a choreiform dance of fatigue. Stella’s progress was announced by the jingling of a shoulder-worn sling adorned with carabiners, cams, and pitons. Her roughened mountaineering harness lied atop a pair of heavily patchworked canvas pants, and the pair of crampons lashed onto her pack announced her displacement some 5000’ too close to sea level. The meticulously knotted cordage and strategically placed belay devices hanging from her hips displayed a proficiency peculiar to the lowlands of the east coast. A weathered expedition jacket trailed down feathers from a series of small lacerations across her back and sides while the biting cold slid in to replace them. She broke through the protective tree line and exited into an exposed field ascending up to a hill decorated by a lone pine. The wind now unleashed dug at her frost-pocked face and her lungs were burned by the caustic winter air. She could feel a fog creeping deeper into her mind as she got closer to her destination, although she had neither the energy nor vocabulary to name the sensation. Her gaze darted between the features of the landscape masked by twilight, and her heart quickening with a single persistent thought: Eden. Stella paused as her hand drew over top of the coat pocket stuffed with a thick collection of letters signed by that name. She had to find her sister. She had to be here. Stella drew her scarf up around her nose, narrowed her fatigued eyes against the wind, and walked on to reach and then descend the crest of Half-Blood Hill.
“Hello?” She called out weakly once she had closed in on the nearest building, “Please, can anyone help me?”

Please note that multiple sections of this sheet have been left blank (or relatively sparse) and will be filled out in the future as these details are uncovered. If you’re curious, please feel free to interact and ask questions IC! Thanks for reading!

“Life is a big gamble, and I’m always the final victor…”

#Standard Information

#Relationship Information

#Powers information

###Weaknesses

The girl held her cards in her hand, her eyes unflinchingly darting between the two people on her flanks.

This hand could win her the game. The prize would be hers.

One move.

#Other information

#Inventory

#Music

#Quotes

#Trivia

The brunette grabbed her card, slamming it down on the table, a dangerous glint in her eyes as she did so.

She watched the man on her left groan, tossing his cards down, revealing a hand of poor quality.

She hummed in satisfaction as the man on her right shook his head, setting his cards down, revealing a good hand.

Yet, good didn’t beat great.

“Full house. Read ‘em and weep!”

#Then

Monika “Moni” Reed was born onto Doug one gray September morning, a child given to him by the goddess Tyche. Doug had succeeded in attracting the attention of the goddess– though not his intent– with his excellent luck in the domain of Tyche herself. Doug wasn’t shocked when he lost the game of Blackjack he had been playing, especially after having been on a hot streak all day long. Everyone has to lose eventually, and he knew he should step away from the table.

While he was on his way out, a patron of the casino stopped him, praising his luck. She claimed to have never seen such luck in a single streak, and that she wanted to get to know him. Of course, this eventually ended with Doug getting together with the patron. After the night, the woman he had gotten together with had revealed herself to be the goddess of fortune. She informed Doug she would bless him with a child, and leave him shortly afterwards, but not before giving him some information on what to do. She mentioned a place for this supposed child.

Pfft.

Of course, Doug didn’t believe any of it. Seriously, how stupid does that sound? He scored with a goddess, and she was going to leave him with a child? He kept these thoughts to himself, and Tyche eventually fulfilled her claim, leaving a child with him on that September morning.

While growing up, Monika was renowned for her grade A luck. The phrase most commonly associated with her was, ”The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”, as local citizens believed that she inherited her luck from her father. Doug didn’t necessarily deny these claims– of course, it was possible Monika was lucky because she was her father’s daughter, but he didn’t fully accept them. Being a gambler, Doug came into possession of a lot of unique items, as some people wouldn’t have the money to go for another round, so they would give up some other possession types, such as weapons. Of course, he gave those weapons to Monika and Hank.

Yet, one day, he came into possession of a stranger weapon– an old-school Dan Pien, or a war fan. Yet, there was something… Different about the blades on it. They weren’t steel. Not any steel he’d seen before, that is. It was almost… Bronze. That was new. He had to admit, he was tempted to keep it for himself. Yet… He gave it to Monika instead. Oh, well. It’s not like he’d ever use it. Now, Doug was suspicious of his daughter. Was she truly…? No, there was no way.

However, one day– Specifically Monika’s own 13th birthday– something happened. Above the brunette’s head, a spinning coin appeared. It flickered for a few moments, making Doug tense up.

It was true… Monika was truly the daughter of a goddess.

“Fine… You win, Monika.” The older man sighed, though he also gave a brief chuckle.

“Damn right, I win! As per usual!” She laughed, leaning back in her chair lazily.

“Whatever.” The man on her left scoffed, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, that was fun.”

“Monika?”

“...You still have to do the dishes, y’know.”

“...Ah.”

#Now

“So… This is where I’m stayin’, dad?”

“Yeah. That’s the plan, at least. You got everything, kiddo?”

“Yeah, I do. Say, dad? You ain’t worried about me, are ya’?”

“...If I am?”

Monika chuckled, shaking her head as she tied her hair up into a ponytail. “Well, I’d tell ya’ it’s not needed. If yer’ lucky enough, you’ll never die. That’s common logic.”

Doug couldn’t help but smile at Monika’s confidence, sighing, “Just be safe, Moni. Write home sometime. Take care of yourself, because we love you.”

Monika laughed softly, giving her dad a hug. “I love you too, Dad. I promise I’ll write you. You and Hank, of course.”

Doug looked around for a moment before he crouched down to his daughter, whispering to her, “Do you have your weapons? Tessen? Haladie?”

“You mean my fan and my dagger? Relax, dad. I got ‘em. Freshly sharpened. The fan is right here in my hand, and I keep the dagger strapped to my thigh. Cards are in my backpack, and ditto goes for the rubik's cube, ‘K? I’ll be fine, trust me, dad. You’ve trusted in the cards, so trust in your little girl, no? ‘Sides, it ain’t like this is new stuff we’re talking about. I’ve been around the block now.”

“...I know, sweetheart. I’ll let ya’ loose, now.”

Thus, with some additional words of departure, Monika and her dad parted ways. Due to Doug’s not paying attention to the information Tyche had given him, Monika was… Lost, per se. She was probably an hour out from Long Island Sound, but she didn’t know that. So, she did what any lost teenager would do. …She just kinda chose a direction, and prayed to Tyche. How unfair would it be if she died before she could make it to camp? Seriously, that’s not right. Luckily for Monika, though, she did eventually find someone. An older boy, probably around… 19? Well, in spite of her years of doing this… Monika still wasn’t too bright.

“‘Scuze me. Say, do ya’ know how to get to long island sound? I’m supposed to go there, y’know, so… If ya’ have directions, that’d be much obliged.”

Rolling D20. 1-10: Monster. 11-20: Satyr.

Dice rolled. 16.

The boy, who had been facing away from Monika, lurched upwards, letting out a startled… Was that a bleat? Whatever it was, it was clearly surprised. The boy turned around, acting like Monika just slapped him across the face. “Shhh! Keep your voice down! Do you want to die? That’s how you die!”

“Yeesh. Calm yer’ jets, whoever you are. It’s just a question, no need to throw a temper tantrum.” Monika scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “So, do you know how to get to Long Island Sound or what?”

“Ugh… Yes, I know. But please, don’t go yapping about it! You risk running into a monster!” The Satyr whined, burying his face in his hands. “Just… Follow me, and stay quiet, okay?”

“No promises.”

Monika then allowed the Satyr to walk her towards the camp, not really bothering with idle chatter. What she didn’t know is that, behind them, something was moving around, getting closer and closer…

Rolling D10. 1-3: Squirrel. 4-10: Monster.

Dice rolled. 5. Legendary luck activated.

Rerolling…

Dice rerolled. 2.

The Satyr almost jumped out of his skin as the squirrel scurried by them, making Monika just laugh. The Satyr sighed, continuing to walk Monika to the camp, thankful that, by now, they were almost at the hill. Once they were there, he could leave this girl, and go on with his day. Sometimes, Demigods were such a pain…

The Satyr dropped Monika off on the hill at camp, quickly scurrying away as he did so. Monika, meanwhile, looked down at the camp, grinning to herself. “Well, well. Guess this is my new home for a bit, eh? A gal could get used to this.” She mused to herself as she descended the hill, whistling to herself. While she walked, she drank in the scenery, idly spinning her haladie around in her hand.

Though Dorian had just returned from New Argos, and wasn't really feeling in the mood for doing any sort of work, the fact that he was still a camp leader who had responsibilities was still very much a reality. He had a quota of activities to meet if he wanted to keep his position, after all.

However, with Game Master being his position, Dorian found himself in a bit of a problem. You see, his primary function was to organize games, even better if the games could help campers improve their combat prowess, which was just second function. But considering what had happened to New Argos and that many people, including himself, were still processing everything that had happened, he highly doubted that anyone would be in the mood for his kind of activities and he couldn't blame them for that.

So what did he decide to do instead? Well, focus on one other thing he understood well: Music. The son of Clio really wanted to do something that resonated with people, that made them feel understood. And what better way to do so than through the world's universal language?

So, as the day went on, Dorian made his preparations at the Amphitheatre. He covered the place in blankets and pillows to make everyone comfortable, he prepared a table with some snacks and drinks, and he borrowed a few instruments from the Apollo and Muse cabins, just in case people didn't have their own. Then everything would be ready to start as soon as people started arriving.

Now naturally, taking into account that he was the host of the event and the flute on his hand, it was no surprise that Dorian would be the first to give his contribution to the event. His chosen song was a flute version of the song "Remember Me". A beautiful song that, he felt, a lot of people would be able to relate with.

After his own presentation, Dorian would be seen sitting at the back, watching anyone who would try to perform as he sipped on his warm tea, enjoying himself, dedpite everything. He seemed to be very at peace by himself, but if anyone wanted to talk to him specifically, he wouldn't be at all against it.

“I wanted freedom, open air and adventure. I found it on the sea.” Alain Gerbeault

#Relationships:

#Appearance

Faceclaim: link

Voiceclaim Mualani from Genshin Impact

Overview: Kailani stands at a height of 5 feet and 3 inches, an average height for girls her age. Her build is athletic and lean, with strong legs and toned arms honed by years of swimming, running, and surfing. She has the natural strength of someone who grew up near the sea, navigating rocky shores and swimming against waves. Her shoulders are broad, hinting at her prowess as a swimmer, but her overall frame is lithe and agile. Her skin is a sun-kissed, warm, golden brown hue that speaks to her Cape Verdean heritage and her time spent outdoors. Her complexion glows with health, as if kissed by the ocean and sun. Her almond-shaped eyes are a captivating dark brown, resembling the volcanic soil of her island nation. They’re expressive and often reveal her emotions, whether it’s her warmth when comforting a friend or the fierce determination that burns in them during a challenge. She has a gently upturned nose with a small scattering of freckles across its bridge, adding a youthful charm to her otherwise striking features. Kailani’s full lips are naturally rosy, often curved into a bright smile or a playful smirk. Her hair is a deep, rich black that shimmers under the sunlight. It’s thick, wavy, and full of volume, falling in effortless beachy waves. Kailani usually wears her hair loose, cascading down to her mid-back, but she’ll tie it into a high ponytail or braid when surfing or diving to keep it out of her face. Occasionally, she decorates it with braids and cornrows when she has the time and patience to do it. Kailani’s face is usually open and welcoming, with a spark of mischief in her eyes. However, when she’s deep in thought or battling her insecurities, her brows knit together, and her mouth forms a slight pout. Kailani’s style is practical yet effortlessly stylish, blending elements of her island upbringing with the casual attire of a teenager. She favors breathable, comfortable fabrics that allow her to move freely, such as denim shorts or cargo shorts paired with loose tank tops or cropped t-shirts, or lightweight hoodies or cardigans for cooler days, or flowing sundresses when she’s relaxing. She also sports a spiral seashell pendant given to her by her mother, as a gift from her father, since she was a child and a woven bracelet made of green and blue threads, gifted to her by her sister before she left Sal Island. Kailani’s presence is as calming and invigorating as the sea breeze. Her movements are fluid and purposeful, with a natural grace that comes from years of swimming and navigating rocky coasts. She carries herself with quiet confidence, though her posture sometimes falters when she’s feeling self-conscious. Her voice is soft and melodic, with a lilting quality that makes people lean in to listen. However, when she’s passionate or standing up for someone, her voice becomes firm and commanding, like the crashing waves.

#Personality

“The ocean stirs the heart, inspires the imagination and brings eternal joy to the soul.” Robert Wyland

Overview: Kailani’s personality is a dynamic blend of charisma, empathy, determination, and vulnerability. She has a deeply compassionate heart, often prioritizing others' needs over her own. Growing up in a small, tight-knit community taught her the value of supporting those around her. She’s the type to notice when someone is feeling left out or upset, and she’ll go out of her way to include or comfort them. This empathy makes her a natural mediator during conflicts, as she can easily see different perspectives and find common ground. Kailani’s warmth and easygoing nature draw people to her effortlessly. She has a natural ability to make others feel at ease, whether through her radiant smile, her knack for finding humor in tough situations, or her genuine interest in getting to know people. Her charisma, however, isn’t flashy or attention-seeking. It’s rooted in her sincerity and kindness. Despite her kind and approachable nature, Kailani is no pushover. Beneath her gentle exterior lies a core of steel. When she sets her mind to something, she pursues it with unwavering determination, even if it means pushing through fear or self-doubt. She refuses to let setbacks define her, and she always finds a way to move forward. Kailani’s lighthearted and playful side balances her determination. She loves cracking jokes, engaging in friendly teasing, and finding joy in the little things. Her humor often acts as a coping mechanism, helping her navigate the hardships of demigod life. While Kailani exudes confidence outwardly, however, she harbors deep insecurities. The pressure of being a child of one of the Big Three often leaves her feeling inadequate. She is susceptible to frequently comparing herself to other demigods, and worries she’ll never live up to the expectations placed upon her by herself. Kailani is fiercely loyal to her friends and loved ones, often acting as a protector. She has a strong sense of duty, especially when it comes to those she cares about, and will go to great lengths to ensure their safety and happiness. This protectiveness extends to the ocean and its creatures, which she sees as part of her responsibility, making her an avid defender of the environment in an effort to give back to the sea that has always been her refuge. Kailani’s determination can also sometimes cross into stubbornness, making her reluctant to accept help or admit when she’s wrong. She has a strong sense of independence and hates feeling like a burden to others, which can lead her to take on too much responsibility. Additionally, Kailani feels emotions deeply and often struggles to hide them. While her passion and sensitivity make her empathetic, they can also cause her to react impulsively when overwhelmed.

Preferences

Hobbies:

• Surfing

• Diving

• Photography

• Recycling

• Dance

• Singing

• Music

#Demigod Info

Stats

Powers

Weapon of Choice: None yet

Fighting Style: Not defined yet, but seems to have a particular talent for evasion tactics.

Fatal Flaw: Self-Sacrifice. It stems from Kailani’s deep empathy and protective nature. She is willing to put others’ needs above her own, often to the detriment of her physical, emotional, and mental well-being. In her drive to help and protect, she may take on burdens she cannot handle, refuse help when she needs it, or place herself in dangerous situations to save others. This flaw is also dangerousin the srnse that Kailani struggles to recognize her limits and value her own life as much as others’.

#Items and Equipment

#Miscellaneous

Princess of the Sea OST

Trivia

• Zodiac Sign: Cancer
• MBTI: ENFJ-T (The Protagonist)
• Enneagram: Type 7 (The Enthusiast)
• Love Languages: Quality Time (receive); Physical Touch (give)
• Quirk: Fidgeting with her pendant when she's nervous
• Fears: Heights, Failing
• Nectar Flavour: Mango Juice
• Ambrosia Flavour: Chocolate Carrot Cake
• ATLA Element: Water
• Hogwarts House: Griffindor
• Pokemon Type: Water/Dragon
• Path (Honkai: Star Rail): Hunt
• Type (Honkai: Star Rail): Ice
• Weapon (Genshin Impact): Bow
• Element (Genshin Impact): Hydro

#Backstory

“Sometimes in the waves of change we find our true direction.” Unknown

Kailani de Melo was born on Sal Island, one of Cape Verde’s most picturesque islands, known for its vibrant culture, breathtaking beaches, and strong connection to the sea. Her mother, Ana de Melo, worked as a lifeguard and taught surfing lessons to tourists. Ana was strong-willed, compassionate, and deeply protective of her two daughters, Kailani and her older half-sister, Mayara. Kailani grew up in a close-knit household full of love, laughter, and stories about their ancestors’ relationship with the ocean.

From a young age, Kailani felt an unbreakable connection to the water. She would spend hours swimming, surfing, and diving in the crystal-clear waters of Santa Maria Beach, often losing track of time. She was an unusually gifted swimmer, seemingly able to glide through the waves with the ease of a fish. Locals often joked that Kailani was born from the sea itself—a sentiment that turned out to be truer than they realized.

Kailani loved her life in Santa Maria, helping her mother patrol the beaches and playing music with her sister in the evenings. Mayara, an aspiring marine biologist, was Kailani’s closest confidante. Together, they dreamed of protecting the ocean and raising awareness about environmental issues affecting their island. Despite the love and support she received at home, Kailani couldn’t shake the feeling that she was different. She often heard faint whispers when she sat by the shore, as though the ocean itself was calling to her. Her connection to the water felt both natural and mysterious, but Ana always assured Kailani that it was nothing that was unnatural for people who, like them, spent most of their lives on the sea.

More recently, Kailani was selected for an international exchange program that would send her to Boston, USA, for a year. Though excited, she was nervous about leaving her home and family behind. Ana encouraged her to go, seeing it as an opportunity for Kailani to broaden her horizons and pursue her dreams of adventure. Mayara helped her pack, gifting her a woven bracelet made from seaweed fibers as a token of home. Arriving in Boston was a culture shock for Kailani. The cold winters, bustling streets, and lack of the ocean left her feeling out of place. However, she quickly made friends, a particularly close one with Silas Sherwood, with her warm, charismatic nature, and her fluency in English improved rapidly. Despite missing home, Kailani enjoyed exploring the city and learning new things.

Her life took a sharp turn when, one evening, she was cornered by a hellhound in a back alley near her host family’s home. As the monstrous creature lunged, a figure leaped in front of her: Silas, her friend, revealed himself to be a satyr posing. He managed to drive the beast away, but the hardest part came after: explaining to Kailani that she was a demigod, a child of one of the Greek gods, and she was in grave danger. Silas explained that he had kept a close eye on her since she first arrived in Boston due to her strong scent, which naturally, would draw a lot of monsters to her eventually, and her presence in the mortal world was no longer safe. And Silas, knowing that he wouldn't be able to guide a defenceless demigod to safety with all the potential dangers of their trip, IMed Camp Half-Blood for reinforcements. On the next day, Kailani and Silas would receive the help of one Bailey Rennes, a child of Castor who would have helped them survive the attack of three dracaenae, two harpies and evade A cyclops, all to get them to the safety of Camp Half-Blood with little more than a few non-grievous injuries, thank the gods for that.

However, this would also be the moment where it would dawn on Kailani that her life would never be the same. And she had to get used to it. But it would be fine, she thought. After all, she had always been as adaptable as the sea. She could handle this.

#Present Day

“You will love the ocean. It makes you feel small, but not in a bad way. Small because you realize you’re part of something bigger.” Lauren Myracle

It had been a few weeks since Kailani had first arrived at Camp Half-Blood. All things considered, she had been adapting just fine to her new life. In spite of the underlying tension at Camp for reasons she didn't understand well, the activities were fun, the Hermes Cabin was not bad at all, and more importantly, she could still see and be in the ocean whenever.

But today, there would be yet another change in her life. What change, you might ask?

Well, it all started in the morning.

No matter how cold the weather might be, and how unused to it Kailani still was, she had the habit of always starting her day with a walk on the beach during sunrise. It was her way of calming herself, waking herself up and getting pumped with energy to go about the rest of her day.

However, yesterday was different. Her parentage was confirmed in a dramatic fashion during one of her morning walks. While standing at the shore of Long Island Sound, the sea itself seemed to rise up in greeting. A trident symbol appeared glowing above her head, marking her as Poseidon’s daughter. Needless to say, the experience left her stunned. She didn't really know what to think. On one hand, she was happy that the father she had never known acknowledged her, and she finally knew who he was. On the other hand, she couldn't help but worry about what that would mean for her.

Kailani has never spoken to any of the children of the Big Three before, but she had heard stories. She has heard about the responsibilities of being one of them. She knew she would likely have big expectations placed upon her, and big shoes to fill. The problem was that Kailani didn’t know if she would be able to do that. She was just a girl from a small island of a small, unknown archipelago in the Atlantic, not some hero destined for greatness.

But this would have to be yet another thing she would have to figure out. She could figure it out, right? This was just another change she would have to adapt to.

Like water adaptating to its surroundings.

The Beach

It was a bit strange, to be in the beach after what had happened yesterday. You know, the whole being claimed thing and realizing that your dad is one of the most important gods of a pantheon you didn't even know was real a few months ago? Yeah, all that. Honestly, Kailani should probably be moving her stuff to the Poseidon Cabin, something she should have done yesterday, but in her defence, she was still processing everything.

Did the time between yesterday and today help that processing at all? No, not really, she was still anxious about it. But at least the feel of the sea breeze and sound of the crashing waves were helping her relax. Everything would be fine.

The Cabin Area

After her morning walk on the beach, Kailani got herself busy moving her stuff from the Hermes Cabin. Not that she had much of anything to move around, most of them were left behind. She would have to look into getting some of her stuff back or buying new stuff, but that was a worry for future Kailani. Current Kailani was busy taking her things to the Poseidon Cabin, and feeling really, really nervous about it. The liveliness of the cabin area didn't help quell that at all.

Don't get her wrong, she was excited to meet her siblings! She grew up with Mayara, she was used to living with a sibling. Her worry was more due to her wondering if they would get along. Hopefully, they would.

The Arena

Since arriving at Camp Half-Blood, Kailani has been coming to the Arena a lot. Not looking for a spar or anything, she wasn't nearly skilled enough for that yet. What she has been doing is trying out weapons. After all, liking it or not, she would have to learn how to defend herself and kill monsters, so she might as well find the way that best works for her.

Today, she was trying out the bow and arrow… and failing spectacularly, as she clearly wasn't sure about what she was doing. Some help with that would be appreciated.

[OOC: Hello everyone! Firstly, I would like to credit /u/ Mooxie_does_stuff for inspiring the OST and Stats section, and /u/ ThanergeticGenesis for inspiring the rp starters in this post. Feel free to pick any of the three that you would like!]

When they had traveled to New Argos, none of them could've guessed, none of them could've imagined what was going to happen. What had begun as just a trip to watch the second round of the New Argos Games had suddenly turned into an invasion. A war where everyone had to fight for their lives or die trying. And unfortunately, not all of them would survive.

But it was time for some of those who survived to return home, their spirits battered and broken, but still standing. It would take a while for them to recover, but they would try, in the ways they knew how.

Dorian Seymour (u/Overwhelmed_Heart_07)

The Muse Cabin

It was strange, to return to the Muse Cabin after so long. It was even stranger still, how comforting it felt to be back. Dorian has never been attached to his cabin. It was nothing more to him than a place where he and his cousins lived in. Yet, somehow, after the Battle of New Argos, returning to it had felt like returning home. Something he hadn't felt in a while.

However, he wasn't unhappy about it. He was grateful, actually. After everything he had gone through, being able to be somewhere he called home in the company of his companion she had missed a lot, Marie, is exactly what he needed.

The Amphitheater

After relaxing a bit in his cabin, however, Dorian had work to do. You see, he was a camp leader, the camp's Game Master. He still had responsibilities to attend to.

That was the reason why he was in the Amphitheater right now, trying to organize something for camp now that he was back. Maybe a music night. Not usually what he tended to do, but he highly doubted anyone would be in the mood for sparing sessions and training anyway.

It's not like he would be in the mood for nit anyway.

The Zephyros Creek [CLOSED RP with u/brightestofwitches]

Being quite honest with himself, Dorian didn't know why exactly he decided to go Zephyros Creek. He didn't know exactly what had brought him there. Like sure, maybe his relationship with the Lord of the Creek could still be considered one if the closest ones he had. But come on, there's no way he was expecting any sort of comfort coming from him, right?

It wasn't his job to care about him. After all, to Iphis, he was just another mortal who he happened to have a working relationship with. They were not friends. If anything, they were barely acquaintances at this point. Yet, Dorian stayed. If nothing else, at least the sound of the running creek would ease up his mind, if only a little.

Sasha Marszalek (u/Protector_Heart)

The Arena

The Battle of New Argos, the fight for their lives was over. The daughter of Bia obviously knew that on a logical level. But she was still angry, furious even, at what had happened. Why wouldn't she be? New Argos was her home, the place where she grew up, the place she swore time and time again that she would do anything to protect it. She did the best she could, and yet... it still felt like she had failed.

So it's no surprise that the daughter of Bia would be at the Arena right now, of all places. If there was anywhere where she could take out her anger, this would be the place. Probably not a good idea to approach her in this state, but people are welcome to try.

The Canoe Lake

After hours of taking her anger out on the Arena, Sasha's next stop would be the Canoe Lake. No special reason for it. The place just had a way to calm her down. Maybe because of the scenery. It was a beautiful scenery.

The daughter of Bia would be visibily more melancholic than angry here. She had lost some of her friends in the Battle, after all. And she was still trying to process it all.

Honestly, Sasha wouldn't mind having a distraction. Anything to get her mind out of the depressing thoughts in her head.

Elias Carmody (u/Unbreakable_Heart_23)

The Circe Cabin

The last time Elias had left the Circe Cabin, he had left with Adrian. He had left the cabin with his twin brother, going to New Argos to support their older brother in the New Argos Games. That was all it was. That was all it was supposed to be.

Never would Elias have imagined that he would return to his cabin alone. Never would he have imagined that he would return to his room without his twin. His beloved twin brother... that would never come back.

Being in their shared room knowing that he would never see Adrian again was painful. It felt like adding salt to the still bleeding wound. But in a way, it also felt strangely comforting. Almost as if Elias could still feel Adrian's presence there. It was probably only his mind playing tricks to make him feel better, but he didn't mind. He really didn't mind having this, as temporary as it would be.

The Momus Cabin [CLOSED RP with u/M00XI3]

If you told Elias that he would ever go to the Momus Cabin to specifically talk to Oliver willingly, he would have said that you were out of your mind and that he would never associate himself with the son of Momus unless he was forced too.

And now he's here. Standing in front of the door of the cabin, nervous and anxious, and bearing terrible news. Elias really didn't want to break the news to Oliver, he knew how much he had loved his brother. But he knew that Oliver deserved to know. And he deserved to know through him.

With a heavy heart, Elias knocks on the door, his body stiff and silently dreading the moment the door opens. But he knew he had to do this. He had to.

The Medic Cabin

Of all the places one would think to find Elias after his return to New Argos, the Medic Cabin would probably never cross anyone's mind. Not unless they knew that the son of Circe has been part of the Medic Team for a while, he just wasn't present because, again, he was in New Argos.

But there he was, ready to be of help to anyone who came by. Elias might not look his best right now, but he desperately needed to keep himself busy. Because otherwise, he knew it would be just a matter of time before he broke down again.

[OOC: Hey guys! Darcel here! I am passing here to say that yes, I am the writer for all of these characters and more, lol! I just decided to combine all of them into a single post to make it easier for myself and for yall. All you have to do is tag the account of the character you wish to interact with and choose one of the locations available, and you're set! Have fun writing!]

 “O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom, you thief of love!”

• William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

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[General Information]

Name: Iris Beau Thomas

Significance: Iris is a conventionally feminine name meaning rainbow, though Iris’ father named the boy after the flower. Frankly, Iris hates his name due to years of relentless teasing. Beau is a French name in origin, and means “handsome”. Quite fitting for a son of Aphrodite. Thomas is the family surname, meaning “twin”. 

Nicknames/Pet Names: Being called by any nickname feels rather childish and embarrassing to Iris, so he prefers not to have any. 

Age: 15

Birthdate: January 8th, 20XX

Hometown: Albany, New York, USA

Nationality: American

Gender: Cisgender Male

Gender Expression: Typically masculine but can lean towards androgyny.

Preferred Pronouns: He/Him

Demigod Conundrums: ADHD and Dyslexia

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[Family]

[Friends, Foes, and Other Notable Acquaintances]

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[Appearance]

Faceclaim: https://imgur.com/a/JBfFkdO

Voiceclaim: N/A

General Description: Iris is by any standard conventionally attractive, and quite aware of it. He can certainly attest that being beautiful has its benefits; the boy has never lacked in compliments when it comes to his appearance. He is rather self-conscious, so he tends to use his powers to conceal whatever he considers a minor flaw.

Hair: Iris is a natural strawberry blonde, and is very proud of it. His hair has a soft, almost feathery texture to it, and is rather fine, almost like corn silk. It is slightly long, having grown past his collar, but much like everything else about him, looks effortlessly fashionable no matter what he does to it. 

Voice: Frankly, words don’t seem to do Iris’ voice justice. Sure, it’s charming, sweet, and pleasant to hear, but if you listen closely, there’s something about it that tends to put even the most guarded folk at ease. Iris is well aware of this, and will use it to his advantage whenever possible; he’s sweet-talked himself out of many bad positions.

Eyes: Iris’ eyes have a roundish almond shape to them. They seem to be flecked with almost every colour under the sun. Addison used to compare looking into them to peering into a kaleidoscope; it’s almost mesmerising. 

Height: 5’7 (around 170 cm)

Weight: 135 lbs (around 63 kg)

Physique: Iris is well-proportioned, though a bit on the slender side. 

Clothing Style: The son of Aphrodite is super particular on what he wears. While he doesn’t want to make it look like he puts zero effort into his clothing choices, Iris fears that dressing up too much might make him seem like a try-hard. He sticks to more conventionally masculine clothing, such as T-shirts, flannels, denim jackets, jeans, trousers, and shorts in warmer weather. Iris isn’t the biggest fan of sneakers, but he does tend to wear them around camp, mostly because he can’t bear the thought of getting his precious Doc Martins dirty. 

Accessories: Iris doesn’t wear much jewellery, other than a couple earrings (his dad let him pierce his ears on his 13th birthday).

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[Inventory]

Weapon(s):

N/A (as of now)

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[Powers]

Innate Traits: French Fluency, Cosmetics and Fashion Proficiency 

Domain Powers: Emotion-speak (Charmspeak), [TBD], [TBD], [TBD]

Minor Powers: Illusory Faceshifting, Summon Dove

Major Power: [TBD]

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[Personality]

Iris, for lack of any other term, is a pompous ass.The son of Aphrodite is used to using his natural gifts and talents to charm his way into getting what he wants; namely love, attention, and admiration. As far as he’s concerned, the world revolves around him, or at least it ought to. People who bend to his will tend to have a more amicable relationship with him than those who don’t. Anyone who stands in his way will receive Iris’ contempt and cruelty, all masked behind a thin veneer of politeness. He will destroy you with no weapon but his sweetened tongue and his sharpened words.The son of beauty wants to be someone who others look up to, someone who’s practically worshipped as a god in their own right. He wants to be beautiful in all ways possible. Some say that this is all an act to mask his own insecurities, but Iris has always written that off as rationalizing on their part. There’s no possible way that can be true, right?

Backstory: Nathan Thomas wasn’t exactly looking for love when he met Aphrodite. Rather, he’d been looking for an answer. Iris’ father had met the goddess as a young man who was unsure what direction he wanted to take in his life. Everyone around him had expected him to take up the family business, which was centred around selling hardware, but he had other ideas. From a young age, he had always had a strong fascination with botany, with a particular passion for flowers. And it was this passion that would lead him to the botanical gardens where he first laid eyes on the lady who would become his first and his only love. He was smitten at first sight, as many are, and over time, slowly developed a budding romance with the fair-shaped goddess, who gladly reciprocated his affections. She provided him with the courage to follow his own dreams instead of following a path that Nathan would’ve despised, and the man often wonders if she played a hand in the success of his endeavors, even when he decided to pivot from his career as a botanist to one as a baker and business owner.

Unfortunately, like all mortal-god relationships, Aphrodite would eventually leave him, though not without leaving a child in her wake, a lovely infant boy who Nathan named Iris, after the first flowers he ever gifted her, though his family certainly was not a fan of his unconventional choice for a boy. Nathan never learned that his lover was a goddess, though he had his suspicions.

Iris Thomas grew up loved. Despite their differences, his father and his aunt Beatrice worked tirelessly to provide him with all he could’ve ever wanted. However, the rest of the world was not as kind to him as his family. From a young age, Iris was relentlessly bullied for almost everything about him, from his name to the clothes he wore and the manner in which he spoke. When he simply couldn’t take it anymore, he decided that he’d become the bully instead of remaining the target. Iris resolved to project himself in such a manner that he’d be adored instead of ridiculed, and thanks to some newly discovered talents, it worked. Sort of. The more he used his powers, the more apparent he became to the monsters of Albany, New York. Eventually, it got to the point that a couple empousai established themselves at his school, and a keeper was dispatched to keep an eye on the child of the blooming goddess and take him to camp when the time came. Despite Iris’ constant, needless teasing of the fellow, Maxwell still managed to defend the boy when he got cornered by the not so charming demon cheerleaders he’d been crushing on. Though crimes were certainly committed in the succeeding struggle (particularly arson), Iris and Max escaped relatively unscathed, ready to begin a surprisingly arduous journey to Camp Half-Blood.

Fatal Flaw: Vanity

Hobbies: 

• Interior decorating
• Listening to music
• Makeup
• Coordinating outfits
• Shopping

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Trivia:

• Iris has a small, white, flower-shaped birthmark located on his left shoulder. It’s most apparent in the summertime, since he tends to have more of a tan. 
• A nervous habit of his is placing his hands in his pockets. He does this because it’s less visible than something like fidgeting.
• He is actually very interested in makeup and does wear it on occasion, though he’d rather die than reveal that he dabs on a few spots of concealer every now and then. 
• Iris is also secretly a massive D&D nerd. While he hasn’t actually played for a good bit now, he’s got practically every 5th edition book at home. He will also deny this vehemently if you ask him about it.
• Iris’ favourite colour is rose pink, but he tends to lie and say it’s lime green instead. 

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[Now]

Afternoon, Camp Half-Blood.

“You know, it’s been bad enough that I've been stuck hanging around you for the past few days. You don’t have to rub it in that you were right in the first place.”

Despite being covered in dirt and generally looking like he’d been dragged through the pits of Tartarus itself, the son of Aphrodite flashed a brilliant smile at the diminutive satyr who trudged behind him, looking rather defeated by the whole ordeal they’d been through.

“No can do, goat boy. I told you taking the bus was a terrible idea.” 

“Would you have preferred walking all the way here?”

“Yes. Entirely so. Better than being chased than… whatever those things were called.”

“Empousai.”

“Yeah, the vampire demon chicks. They were kind of cute in their human forms, now that I think about it…But they still ruined my sweater.”

Iris clicked his tongue in dismay, looking at what was once a snow-white cashmere sweater. It was now a color akin to a street pigeon, and badly singed at the collar. He’d had to spend more time than he’d like to admit convincing that sales clerk to give it to him. Finding another one was going to be a headache. Especially at this place they were going to. From what the self-centered son of Aphrodite had gathered from Maxwell, it was some sort of year round summer camp for “kids like him”, whatever that meant.

Part of him wondered if this whole thing was some sort of fever dream. His guilty conscience pushing him to apologize to that idiot kid he’d been teasing. But some part of Iris knew that this was the truth. That there were monsters and half barnyard animals roaming the world. It all felt so insanely familiar, like something he’d read of before… Perhaps a fairy tale? Or a myth?

Unfortunately, Iris was jolted out of his ponderings by the sight of a large farmhouse looming in the distance. It looked like the two of them had finally made it to their destination. Maxwell breathed an audible sigh of relief as they approached a hill crowned by an impressively large pine tree. Though Iris had not exactly inherited his father’s appreciation for nature, he could see the beauty in it sometimes. 

He made a vain attempt to comb back his hair with his fingers and brush it out of his eyes as he and Max crossed the border. First impressions were important, especially with strangers. Though it took a considerable amount of effort than usual, he managed to create his typical illusion for strangers; a smooth, unblemished complexion, a slightly more symmetrical face shape, and slightly longer lashes which perfectly framed his eyes and made them sparkle in the afternoon sunlight. Iris turned towards the satyr for what would be last time, trying to mask his annoyance towards him. This whole thing was his fault, really. What kind of creature abducts a random kid and takes them to some vaguely defined “safe place” without providing more than a word or two for context?

“So, I suppose you know what we need to do now? Is there someplace to sign up? Register? Or is it more of a fend for yourself kind of situation?” Iris asked as sweetly as he could, trying to use as little of his charm as possible while still getting the information he needed.

He watched with a slight satisfaction as a dreamy look fell over the eyes of the member of Pan’s retinue.

“To be honest, all I really need to do for my job is to keep you alive… Mr. D or Chiron tend to handle the rest at the Big House.”

Great. It wasn’t the most helpful answer he could’ve gotten out of the dude, but it was better than nothing. The Big House was probably the farm house he’d seen earlier. Looking down from the hill, the boy could see some other buildings, and a couple people milling about, so he could probably ask directions if he needed to. Iris surmised the two were camp directors of some sort. Though Chiron was kind of a strange name… who names their child after a mythological centaur? Iris almost felt bad for the guy.

“So… guess we’ll part ways and I’ll figure this out?”

“Sure. See ya.”

Without a second thought, the satyr galloped (or did whatever it is that goats do) into the forest, not even taking another glance at his former ward. Frankly, Iris was glad to be rid of him. Maybe he’d find someone who actually knew what was going on.

Iris slung his backpack over his shoulder and began to make his way towards the Big House. That is, before his view of the place was blocked by the silhouette of another figure.

Barely hesitating, Iris swiftly stepped to the side and gave the person another one of his signature smiles, something that managed to be as equally charismatic as it was almost threatening. He looked them straight in the eyes, in his typical enticing manner. Almost as if he was daring them to say something about it. 

“The name’s Iris Thomas. Pleasure to meet you.”

(OOC: Feel free to propose a different scenario if necessary!)

Format

Name Activity | Day Activity | Day

You can only reserve up to two slots per character. If you have multiple characters, make one comment for all of them instead of one each.

There can only be one Meal per day, at any time! Any camper can host them.

Campfires happen twice a week. Campers coordinate these with the camp directors, so anyone can host them!

Open Slots happen every day and can include Lessons, QOTDs, Cabin Inspections, Cabin Meetings, Games, movie nights, social gatherings, etc. Lessons, Cabin Inspections and Meetings can only be hosted by a Camp Leader.

Counsellor Meetings are hosted once a month by a moderator and can only be joined by a Camp Leader.

Once a week, a camp-wide activity such as a party, Trip to the City, Beach Day, etc. Each week the event will be different. While they're normally hosted by the mods, a regular camper can host them.

Comment below what you'd like to host!

NOTE: Failure to meet your own slot three times in a row will lock you out of commenting on the Schedule for a month. (You can still post activities outside of the schedule, just not meals or campfires.)

Monday

Meal -

Open Slot -

Tuesday

Campfire - Austin and Jason Reynolds

Open Slot - Teagan Castillo

Wednesday

Meal -

Open Slot -

Thursday

Meal -

Open Slot -

Friday

Meal -

Open Slot -

Saturday

Campfire -

Meal -

Open Slot -

Sunday

Meal -

Open Slot -

_______________________________________________

Leave your name below in the shown format to sign up for an activity!

View the rest of the month in our Character Log in the Calendar sheet.

You can reserve slots in advance!

If you are new welcome! You can check out this post to get started. If you aren't new, please answer this form to be featured on the character log and visit the Link Hub.

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Appearance

Description

Darian is a strapping young man, his training in the gym and his training on the tennis court have given him an excellent physique before he even has arrived camp. He is regularly found in shorts and t-shirt for most of the year, only during the coldest months will be put on trousers and a hoodie to keep the bite of winter away. He can sometimes be found wearing a baseball cap, the way it faces will often tell you how competitive he is feeling as when he's taking on a challenge its turned backwards.

Equipment

Tennis racket - At the moment he doesn't have a weapon on his own, so if he were attacked he would have to make do with his tennis racket and whatever divine powers that he inherited from his mother. Hopefully he will pick up some equipment soon.

Abilities

Personality

Darian is a naturally confident individual, with a strong belief in his own abilities. His self-assurance drives him to constantly strive for excellence, whether in his career, sports, or personal goals. He is fiercely competitive, always eager to take on new challenges and push his limits. However, his confidence is never mistaken for arrogance. Darian understands the value of humility and knows that success is earned through effort, not entitlement.

While his competitive spirit is undeniable, Darian is never one to boast or belittle others. He values hard work and appreciates the achievements of those around him. His friends admire his determination, but they are most drawn to his kindness and loyalty. Darian is the type of person who will always have your back, offering support, encouragement, and a listening ear when needed. Whether celebrating a win or comforting a friend after a setback, his empathy and generosity make him a true friend.

Backstory

Mystery has always seemed to be one of the underlying tones carried throughout Darian's life. Growing up in the mortal world, he always knew why he was different from the other kids, yet somehow never quite knew how. His father was a good man but was more often absent, which left him primarily with his grandparents. His aunt, his father's sister, had always been cold and competitive, growing worse with age.

Darian's mother, Aphrodite-merely a name he knew well from stories. She never would be there for her little boy, and he also did not know her. Growing up, he believed that his mother had always been a myth, just a simple, occasional name whispered by relatives reminding him of her. His father spoke little of her, and even then it was in the most vague terms, sometimes with fondness, but mostly with remorse. His father never acknowledged Aphrodite as divine but had always declared that Darian was indeed his son, human by every definition. But something more within called to Darian-a subtle, undeniable pull that made him wonder about his beginnings and the world beyond the mundane. A dove appearing above his head just after his 12th birthday confirming that he belonged to both the mortal world and that of the divine.

His father had little presence and was always consumed by his work. Darian was raised mostly by his grandparents, with the greatest influence coming from his grandmother. She was a no-nonsense woman who instilled in him the values of being kind, working hard, and above all, hanging tough. She had been his rock, his only source of stability he could hold on to despite that gnawing sense of emptiness over his unknown heritage.

Darian's talent for tennis was apparent straight away to his grandparents. From a very young age, he showed almost an innate aptitude for the game, coordination, speed, and concentration levels well out of league with his contemporaries. This was when the competitive streak came to the surface, finding him playing local tournaments that he started to win to gain recognition within the world of tennis. Coaches whispered that he could make it to the Grand Slam level someday. But to Darian, it wasn't about winning; it was in tennis that he found he could lose himself, where the sense of being torn between two worlds-the world of mortals and that of divinity-could be lost.

But against all the success that was building up in tennis, there was one area in life which was not easy: family mostly, his relationship with his aunt and cousins. His aunt, his father's sister, always seemed to regard Darian with a mixture of jealousy and disdain. A very competitive individual and always diminished Darian's accomplishments by comparing him with her children. Her children, also shared her attitude toward Darian, treating him with coolness and passive-aggressive remarks.

It all came to a head when Darian learned his aunt and cousins were coming to stay with him for several months while their house was being renovated. To live in the same house as them, to endure the endless rivalry and digs, was just too much. The stress and pell-mell competition were wearing, and Darian knew he needed a change.

He had heard been about Camp Half-Blood, a place where children of the gods came for answers about their heritage and how to master their abilities. A place his father told him was his birth right to attend should he ever want to. Darian had no trace of the gods in him, or so he thought, but immediately, the solution of finding a place where he would be himself, away from the prying eyes of his extended family, felt just perfect. His grandmother, encouraging as ever, urged him to attend, sensing this could perhaps be the opportunity Darian needed to break free of the competition and tension.

Now

It had only been an hour since Darian had left home, 38 minutes on a train and another 20 or so minutes walk from Montauk station to where this Camp Half-Blood was meant to be. The idea that this place was an hour away from him and he could have come here anytime he had chose made him let out a sanguine chuckle, but at least he was going to be here for a while. Somewhere he could relax and not have the constant efforts to challenge him or just prod him for existing.

Given that Bridgehampton was only an hour away, he had packed light, he had packed a couple of rucksacks and had stacked them on top of each other so they were balanced carefully, the handle of his tennis racket sticking up out of the top of the higher up bag. If he needed more stuff, he could always get the train back or persuade his grandmother to drop the stuff nearby for him to pick up. Besides this is all a temporary measure, at least that would be the plan.

What interested him the most about coming to this camp was potentially seeing if he had any siblings, Aphrodite was the goddess of love and beauty, he can't be the only one at this camp. Would he get on with them? Or would it be out of the fire and into the frying pan? They couldn't be worse than his aunt and cousins surely?

Making his way down the hill, he could see the complex stretch out in front of him. It was impressive, clearly these gods wanted somewhere for their kids to have some fun and given the sounds he could hear of swords clashing somewhere to fight too. Darian grinned, learning some new skills would be great. It'd be cool if he picked up a weapon or a fighting style here. Although, what he'd actually pick up, he wasn't sure. His forehand was good, some maybe something he could swing or use his arm strength.

The next question for Darian was where did he go from here? He scanned around at everything he could see. He'd need to find where any potential siblings of his could be. Just that he wasn't quite sure where that would be. That'd be alright, hopefully someone would come by soon and help him find his way to wherever he was meant to be.

Appearance: Ellstacia stands at five foot seven with straight hair so black that its purple and periwinkle eyes. She has a fierce face. Ellstacia usually wears a white shirt and a gold Fossil watch with ripped jeans. Her olive skin is ridden with freckles and she detests wearing makeup.She has a scar on her chin from falling on her face at age four and a scar on her left middle finger from where a dog bit her at eleven years old.

Personality: She is a fun-loving party animal. She is a major night owl. Ell is a very supportive person who can always cheer people up. She is an ambiverted. Ellstacia is seen as unpredictable in other's eyes.

Positive traits: Ellstacia always knows the right thing to say. She is very persuasive and great at theatre. She is creative and very artistic. Ell makes friends accedentally, just by being a kind and understanding person.

Negitive traits: Ell never lets go of a grudge. She has trouble forgiving those who wronged her, even if it was an accident. Grudges are her Fatal Flaw, after all. Ellstacia is also stubborn and unwilling to meet halfway. Ellstacia has anger issues and is mildly sociopathic and is mildly phycopathic. Ell is not very patient

Powers: Domain:

• Alcohol tollerence
• Harvest buff (vines)
• Nature listening (vines)

Powers: Minor:

• Alcohol manipulation 
• Vine manipulation
• Drunkenness inducement

Powers: Major:

• Madness manipulation

Inventory: Weapon:

Auxesus - A simple wooden bow carved with the word growth in ancient greek (the name Auxesus is the word growth in ancient greek). The bow is disguised as a hematite evil eye bracelet

Inventory: bag:

• A first aid kit
• A journal
• A bottle of water
• A money clip containing thirty-five dollars
• A pocket knife
• A picture of Ell and and her mom
• A box of matches
• A ball of rope

Charecter background:

Hometown: Olympia, Washington

Age: 13

Birthday: August 7

Hobbies: 

• Theatre
• Art
• Music
• Hiking
• reading

Fears:

Darkness and being ignored. Ellstacia hates the darkness because she never knows whats lurking. Ell cant stand being ignored. 

Conditions: ADHD, dyslexia, bipolar, autism (low on the spectrum)

Nationality: American and Scandinavian

Sexuality: Bisexual but leaning more toward females

Present day: Ellstacia was on a train, going to Maine to visit her grandma. She could swear she felt eyes on her. She turned around, in the seat behind her was a seven foot tall man. She was confused. How was he seven feet tall? Could people even grow that tall? Ell quickly turned back around, hoping that he hadnt noticed her. She looked back. He had one eye. She stifled a gasp. A cyclops? Was she going insane?

Ellstacia needed to get off this train. They where passing through New York state. They where passing through New York City. Ell grabbed her backpack and went to the bathroom, planning to use the window to escape the train. She went into the bathroom and locked the door. Ellstacia opened the small window in the bathroom. It was small, big enough for her to fit through, but not big enough for her to get through easily. Ell heard a knock on the door. Somehow, she knew it was the cyclops.

"Just a moment! Occupied." Ellstacia said, attempting to not sound as nervous as she felt. The train was now passing Long Island, New York. Ell secured the tail of her rope ball to a bar. She was lucky she had her hiking suplies with her. The knocking on the door intensified. It was like someone was trying to break down the door. Ellstacia panicked. She jumped out the window, hanging onto the ball of rope for dear life.

The rope slowed Ell's fall. She rolled out of the train tracks as the cyclops burst through the door. The cyclops bellowed in rage, but the train was already zooming away from Ellstacia. The ball of rope was used all up, as it was tied to the train and she could no longer see the train. She hoped she wouldnt need any more rope. Ellstacia stood up shakily, her nerves frayed. She walked into the forest of Long Island with no direction in mind. She just saw light beyond the forest and prayed that she'd find safety.

It’s tradition that Brent prepares at least one meal each season and this fall season was no different. His writer he was late this season. Usually, he was already done with his duties at this time in the season, but with the attack on New Argos and whatnot, he had been a little preoccupied with worrying about the state of the world. Not to mention his griffin Astro going through what Brent had dubbed bird puberty.

Camp’s elect master chef was blessed with a wave of energy late last night, which inspired him to stop slacking and start doing his duties. Right before the infamous harpy-infested curfew started, he had come up to the schedule board and signed himself up for a meal that would later be known as Brent’s Beavertail Breakfast. The son of Phantasos liked his silly alliterations.

Beavertails were a Canadian pastry originally, but Brent’s hometown in Minnesota was close enough to the border for him to have grown up with the snack. He woke up early in the morning to prepare breakfast in the kitchens. At the dining pavilion he set up a few stations for people to prepare their meal.

At the first station, people could grab a beavertail; a tail-shaped piece of fried dough. There was a regular variant, one with chocolate chips in it, and a gluten-free one. At the second station campers could decorate their beavertail with sweet condiments and confections, including but not limited to strawberries, cinnamon sugar, M&Ms, whipped cream, and butter. There were golden goblets available for drinks.

PREVIOUS

• September 2038, Friday, the second week of school

Autumn mists hide deep sadness. Darkness encroaches on Summer’s end. I stand tall against the shadows, side by side with my friends. Satyr snot and secrets shared. Games we played, stories we told. And for just a little while; I could pretend that I was just like them.

The rest of my week passed by pretty uneventfully. Mom and Dad said it was okay for me to go to Ryan’s sleepover. They were a little wary since Ryan was a boy. Which kind of made me feel a little weird. I guess because I never had to deal with problems like that in the past, y’know? Because, y’know, everyone thought I was a boy. So it was expected for me to hang out with other boys. But now that everyone knows I’m a girl, the entire expectation has changed. Except that I bet if I tried to have a sleepover with other girls, it would also be weird since, y’know, I’m not cis like them. I guess that, really; I don’t quite belong either way. Honestly, it’s really weird to me. Like c’mon, I just want to hang out with my friends. Whether they be boys or girls, y’know? 

Me and Simon were jogging together. He was really slow, and I’m not saying that to be mean. Satyrs have to hide their hooves and stuff. Part of the job, really. So it was hard for him to run or jog. Not unless it was lunchtime. Oh boy, you should see him go when they’re serving enchiladas. I don’t know what it is about satyrs and enchiladas, but they go crazy for them, apparently. It’s like the goat equivalent of catnip. Y’know? Goatnip. Must be the cheese, I guess. Can’t blame Simon for going nuts over cheese. 

Simon didn’t seem himself, though. I wasn’t sure what was going on exactly, but he seemed sluggish. I was getting a real sad sorta vibe from him. Now say what you will about my next choice, but when I’m concerned about my friends, well, I ask them what’s going on. Many people seem to not like that idea, but I can’t help it. Seeing other people sad or worried or anxious makes me feel the same way. So, of course, I asked him. “Hey, you okay, man?” 

Simon’s frown deepened, and he slowed to a walk. I slowed down, too. “I don’t know, to be honest.” 

“What’s going on?” 

He took a metal bottle off his side and drank from it. He looked at the aluminum like he was contemplating taking a chunk out of it. Satyrs have real strange eating habits. “Sometimes, I just wonder what the point is.” 

“The point of what?” 

“Of. . . “ He sighed and threw his arms out wide. “This. Like rescuing demigods. Doing everything that we do. It just feels. . . so pointless. . .” 

It sounded like he was having a real tough time. I wasn’t exactly sure what to say. I’m not a therapist, after all. If only Miss Naya were there. “You do good work, dude. I wish I had a satyr back then.” 

“What do you mean?” He asked, looking at me with a quirked brow. 

“I didn’t have a satyr to guide me to camp back then. I didn’t have anyone. It was just me.”

“How did you find camp?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. Everything from back then is kinda foggy. I was alone. I was running and hiding on the streets. Stealing food and stuff just to survive. And. . . somehow, I found my way to camp. I was happy when I found it, y’know? Because I didn’t have to run away anymore. Because I didn’t have to constantly be on my guard anymore. Because I could lie down and know that I was safe. You guys, all of you, you do such amazing things for us, Simon. Don’t ever feel like you’re worthless or that there isn’t any point in what you do. Without you, Rose never would’ve made it to camp. And now you’re looking after Ryan and Leon, too.” 

He went quiet as he studied me. “You’re strong, Lupa. Most demigods who don’t have a satyr die. You making it to camp on your own is a miracle.” 

I scratched the back of my head and laughed. “Yeah, I had a few close calls. Thankfully, I’m really fast on my feet. Anyway, what else is weighing on you?”

He looked over at a nearby tree. The leaves were already beginning to take on their autumn colors. 

“Pan. He’s gone. He’s been gone for a while now. Faded away. . . Dead. Grover, he told us we have to carry his spirit in his stead. Each of us. But. . . it just. . . “ His lip quivered as a sad bleat escaped from him. His eyes were glistening as he looked down. Both of us stopped. “It’s so sad, Lupa. The wilds, they just keep getting worse and worse. It just feels so pointless. Like I’m fighting a battle I can’t win. And. . . I’m trying so hard. All of us are trying to keep the wilds alive. Trying to bring them back to their former glory. But. . . it’s never going to happen. And there’s nothing I can do about it.” 

I shifted in place, trying to think about what to say. Hearing Simon so sad, it hurt me. I didn’t know him so well, of course. But he was my friend. He helped keep Rose safe. He didn’t deserve to feel sad. “Y’know, when we die, we go to the Underworld. We can come back. We won’t be the same people that we were, but we can come back. Live again. Maybe one day, Pan can come back, too. And I know how scary and awful things can feel. Believe me. But. . . we have to hold on to hope, Simon. Even - no - especially when things seem to be so dark. Hope keeps us going. Gods, this sounds so cliche, I know. But it’s the truth. Whenever I’m fighting a monster, I think about how pointless it all is sometimes. But, I keep fighting. Always. One day, I know that I’ll lose the battle. Sure. But as long as I’m alive, I’ll keep fighting. And maybe one day, we can win the war. Maybe one day demigods won’t have to suffer like we do, y’know? Wouldn’t it be nice to build a world I’d be happy to come back to?” 

Simon looked up at me, his face all scrunched. His cheeks were stained with tears. “Maybe,” he whispered. 

I smiled at him. “I got your back, dude. We all do.” 

“Okay. . .” 

I didn’t know what else to say, so I just opened my arms. Rose was always more of a hugger than I was. She was good at it, y’know? At comforting people. If she were there, I know she’d know exactly what to say. Exactly how to comfort Simon. People always say that I have the gift of the gab. But I don’t think I’m nearly as good at it as Rose is. I often wonder if I’m a good person at all. But Rose? She definitely is. No question about it.

Simon walked into my arms and, after a few seconds, his crying intensified. Soon enough, my shoulder was a veritable napkin for satyr tears and snot. Was that annoying? A little. But Simon needed me. And I wanted to be there for him. I stood there, feeling awkward as heck as he cried. I patted his back, whispered my reassurances to him. Did everything that I thought I should do. To be honest, I wish I could have done more.

Ryan and Leon jogged up behind us and stood on either side of us. Leon looked just as uncomfy as I felt. He dug his hands into his pockets and frowned. Ryan, gods bless him, was far more open about his feels. “Simon? Dude, what happened?” 

I whispered to him. “He’s just having a rough day. It’s the time of year, y’know?” 

“Is he gonna be okay?” Ryan asked.

Simon spoke up, doing his best to keep his voice from bleating in front of them. “I’ll be okay. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. . .” I whispered to him. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

My comfort seemed to have the opposite effect that I wanted. “I should be better than this. I shouldn’t be crying. . .” Simon said.

“Why? Everyone gets sad every once in a while. It’s okay to be sad and cry. You don’t have to look so tough all the time.” I said.

At my words, Leon rolled his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. It seemed like this whole scene was making him nauseous. I didn’t get his deal. 

Anyway, the rest of the day went by with a lot less crying and with much less satyr snot on my shoulder. Thank the gods. Note to self: carry around a napkin or something just in case Simon gets upset again. 

I already had my change of clothes and stuff packed before I left in the morning, so there wasn’t any need for me to go home after school. 

Me, Simon, Leon, and Ryan were waiting for Ryan's mom to pick us up. The three of them seemed to be happily chatting. I, on the other hand, kept looking around, paranoid. Look, we draw monsters to us with our scent. And the stronger we are, the better we smell to the monsters. It pays for us to be paranoid, at least a bit. I didn’t know who Leon or Ryan’s god parents were, but both of them struck me as being pretty powerful. And me? Well, I’m no child of the big three, but gosh darn it, I am powerful in my own right. I can put Matt on a run for his money as long as he doesn’t summon his spooky scary skeleton squad on me, y’know? But in terms of pure swordsmanship? I think I still have him beat. At least for now. One day, he’ll be an even better swordsman than I am, I think. The idea of my friend surpassing me, of my student surpassing me, it makes me feel envious and proud at once. 

Turns out that Ryan lives in Sunnyside. It’s south of Astoria, still in Queens. A little less than an hour's walk. Thankfully, we didn’t have to walk. “So, um, when we get back to my house, I’ll help you make a character for the game I’m running, Lupa,” Ryan said. He’d been talking about his game all week. A lot of people probably would have found Ryan’s enthusiasm to be annoying. But honestly, I can appreciate it. As eccentric as the guy seemed, I thought he had a good heart. And I loved his passion for storytelling. I love a damn good story, y’know? “Did you think about which path you wanted your mage to be?” 

“Uh, a little. I’m kind of torn between the Mastigos and the Moros, y’know?” 

“Simon is playing as a Thyrsus, the naturey sort of mages. Leon is playing as an Obrimos. So there’s no overlap between you guys if you choose either of those options.” 

“I really like the Mastigos. Like their themes, their magic, it’s right up my alley.” 

“What about a shadow name?” 

“What are your guys’ names?” I asked Leon and Simon. 

“Oh, I named my guy Oak,” Simon said. 

Leon smirked. “Thunder.” 

“Thunder?” I echoed. 

“It’s a strong name. I put most of my points into Forces magic. Fire, lightning, all of that.” 

“Way too flashy for me,” I said. 

I thought about what I should name my character. Names were important. They were powerful, special. You had to treat them with respect. When I chose my name, well, I was a little hesitant because the idea struck me that the wolf goddess Lupa might actually exist. And she might not like it that some Hermes kid stole her name. I mean, if the Greek gods exist, why not the Roman gods, too? Or any of the other gods from the other pantheons? Anything is possible. 

“I. . . I’m not sure what I should name my character. I’ll think about it and get back to you on that.” 

Right then, Ryan’s mom pulled up. She was driving an old Toyota Rav4. It was as silver as the moon, well, almost anyways. It was a little dirty, y’know? As for Ryan’s mom herself, she had raven black hair tied back in a ponytail and slate-gray eyes. She was kind of short - around Rose’s size - about five feet even. And her hair was just graying. She had these deep smile lines on her face. And something about her made my mind itch in a weird way. But I couldn’t quite place why. “Hey boys, you ready to go?” She asked, smiling at us. “And you must be Lupa, right? Ryan has told me about you. It’s nice to meet you, young lady.” 

I blinked, trying to figure out the weird feeling in my head. “Uh, yes ma’am. It’s nice to meet you, too,” I stretched my hand out, and we shook. 

“Mom!” Ryan said, hugging his mom through the window. 

“Hola mamá,” Leon said. Though he didn’t step up to hug her. 

“Hey, wait a second. You guys are brothers?” 

Leon gave me a smirk. “C’mon, Loopy, you telling me that wasn’t obvious?” 

“No, actually. It wasn’t.” 

“I’m adopted,” Leon said. “So we’re family, but not by blood.” 

That raised so many questions in my mind. The answers to which were probably none of my business. And frankly, that really sucked. I don’t know about you, but when my curiosity is peaked, I have to know what’s going on. If I don’t figure it out, well, that’ll leave a bad taste in my mouth. Unfortunately, my curiosity often got me in trouble. 

Ryan’s mom chuckled. “My name is Heather, by the way, so feel free to address me however you like.” 

I nodded. Heather Blackwood. Damn, that’s such a cool name. 

“Well, hop in, kids, let’s head home. We’ll pick up some pizza on the way there.” 

The Blackwood family’s taste in pizza is, well, it’s the vanilla ice cream of pizza: pepperoni and cheese. Now don’t get me wrong, I like me some pepperoni and cheese za. I like me some vanilla ice cream, too. But, personally, I’m way more of a supreme pizza, rocky road ice cream kind of gal. Just to set the record straight in case anyone who’s reading this wants to get me pizza or ice cream. Also, dude, how are you reading my stuff? I guess if you are, this must have ended up published or on the internet somewhere. Please, please don’t let it be on Reddit.

Their home was also nice. It was a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment. Ryan and Leon shared a room, sorta like me and Rose did. The carpet was a dark black color, and there were scented candles lit everywhere. The smells wafted through the air. Cinnamon, pine needles, pumpkin pie, it was like someone was celebrating Christmas, Halloween, and Thanksgiving all at once. And honestly? I was there for it. You ever think about how we have so many holidays in the darker months of the year? Halloween, Christmas, Thanksgiving, all of them, really. I think it’s our way of dealing with the darkness. Y’know? We get closer, huddle up so to speak and share what little light, warmth, and happiness we can with one another. Or maybe I’m wrong and it’s all just a huge coincidence and I’m thinking about this crap way too hard. Who knows? 

The other thing that got me was all the little statues of the Greek gods. They were arranged in a Greek omega, One for each of the Olympians, and then a few more for some of the minor gods. A small fire burned in the center of the omega. Ryan wasn’t joking about his mom worshiping the gods, I guess. 

As I was watching the fire and the statues, Miss Blackwood caught my attention. “Ah, I see you’ve found my altar.” 

I swung around to face her. “Uh, yes ma’am.” I wasn’t sure how much Ryan’s mom knew about the truth. She had a demigod child, sure. And she apparently worshiped the gods, yeah. But that doesn’t guarantee anything. Most people can’t see past the mist, y’know? Maybe I could suss out the truth. “Do you think they’re real, Miss Blackwood?” 

She smirked at me and chuckled. “Yes, I do.” 

“How come?”

Her smirk grew wider. “Well, I’ve experienced many things in my life. Too much to go into detail, really. But my experiences have led me to believe that they are real.” 

Well, that was certainly an interesting response. It kind of reminded me of Father Ante and his faith. It was eerily similar, in fact. “What about you?” She asked me. “What do you think?” 

I couldn’t exactly tell her the truth. But, I didn’t want to lie exactly. So I told her a partial truth. “I don’t know what to think.” 

“Well, that’s okay. You don’t have to have all the answers. No one ever does.”

“Doesn’t that bother you, though?”

“Not knowing?”

“Yeah. Like, not knowing the truth, it bothers the heck out of me.” 

“As you get older, you’ll learn that there are so many things you’ll never get an answer to. Most of us learn to accept that in our own ways. We find faith. Or science. Or faith in science, if that’s up your alley. Or both. You can have both, too. Everyone is so focused on finding the capital T Truth that they don’t stop to consider there might be many, many smaller truths instead. Or maybe it’s up to us. Maybe we decide what the truth is.”

I wasn't sure I entirely understood what she was saying.

Ryan came out of his room. “Hey Lupa, you coming? We gotta finish your character.” 

I nodded to him. “Yeah, in just a second.” 

Ryan looked at me and his mom with a confused look. Guess I can’t blame him. “Uh, okay. . .” He then walked back into his room. 

I looked back at Miss Blackwood. That strange feeling in the back of my mind kept itching. But why? 

“I’m glad to see that you survived,” she whispered. 

“What?” I asked, shaking my head. “What are you talking about?” 

“You don’t remember, do you?” 

Again, I shook my head. 

“Come with me,” she gestured. “I have something of yours.” 

What would you have done? What would anyone have done in a situation like that? Yeah. I followed her. She went to her room and turned around. “Wait here for a moment.” She went in and, well, yeah. I waited. About a minute later, she came back out holding something in her hands. She stretched her hand out to me and opened it. If my jaw weren’t connected to my skull, it would have shattered against the ground. She was holding my 8th grade student ID. 

Carefully, I took the ID from her hands. I turned it over a few times and read my deadname. Gale Hines. Memories flashed through my mind. Fragments, chaotic fragments. From back when I was on my own. Back before I found camp. There was this loud ringing noise. My head hurt. I closed my eyes, shook my head, then looked up at her and whispered my question. “How?” 

“I’m not surprised that you don’t remember. It’s a long story. Come and sit with me for a while.” 

So yeah, I went to the patio with her and we sat outside on a couple of lawn chairs. The air was nice and cool and crisp. Just like an autumn night should be. I kept looking at my old student ID while Miss Blackwood explained things. “I didn’t expect to see you again. To be honest, I wasn’t sure it was really you at first. I remembered when we met. It’s been two years. You, well, I thought you were a boy. You looked so rough back then, dear. I tried to help you more, but, well, you weren’t in a good state.” 

You ever remembered something so intensely that you’re there again? It happens to me a lot. Sort of like a vision or something. I closed my eyes as the memories came back to me. 

I’m in an alley. It had been a few weeks since my mom got kidnapped. It was cold. So cold. Even during the summer. I was huddled up, my arms wrapped around my knees. My head is buried in my legs. My stomach hurt so much from hunger. I felt guilty. I had to steal from a few different stores to get food. And my mom was gone. I was afraid. Terrified, really. What kind of kid wouldn’t be terrified after being chased out of their home by an empousa? I dare you to find one demigod who wouldn’t have been afraid. And if you do, I promise they’re lying.

“Hey, you okay?” A woman’s voice asked me. It was weird because her voice was echoing. It was like I was torn between two places. Part of me was sitting in the lawn chair. Part of me was there in that alley again. I flinched and looked up at Miss Blackwood. She was standing at the entrance of the alley. My vision fluctuated between the past and the present. She was also sitting in the chair in front of me. 

I shook my head. “What happened next?” I asked, blinking hard. 

She walked toward me and my past self shot to her feet. “Stay away from me!” I yelled, backing away. 

“H-hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” Miss Blackwood said, holding her hands up to try to calm me down. 

The sensations felt incredibly real. I was scared that I might have been acting out my vision in the present, which would have been embarrassing to say the least. 

“Monster!” I screamed. 

“It’s okay. I know you’re afraid. I’m not a monster.”

“Liar!” I cried. 

She kept getting closer. “You were in a really rough spot. I guess I can’t blame you. It’s scary out there on your own. You didn’t trust me. You were afraid.” 

As Miss Blackwood got closer, my past self reached into her pocket and threw the contents of it at her. She raised her arms up and as she did; I shoved her out of the way and bolted from the alley. 

“Wait!” she called after me. 

I didn’t wait. I ran. I ran until I couldn’t run anymore. I ran until I found some place that felt safe. I slumped to the floor and passed out. There was blackness, the void. And I could hear someone’s voice speaking to me. Her voice. “I know of a refuge for you. A place where you can be safe.” 

I couldn’t see anything in the blackness. But I could feel her presence surrounding me in its warmth. It reminded me of my mom. It made my heart hurt. “Mom?” I asked the void. 

“I’m afraid I am not your mother. But I can help you. Go to Montauk, find a way there. You’ll find a camp. A place where you’ll be safe. Where you can find answers.” 

“Who are you?” 

There was no answer. Just silence. There was light again. I rubbed my eyes and looked up at the sun. I was afraid. But more than that, I didn’t want to die. I had to make it. I had to find a way. I would survive, no matter what I had to do. 

The vision cleared, and I was back on the patio with Miss Blackwood. I looked up at her and wiped my eyes. I swallowed, trying to find the words. “You saved me. . .” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I would have died without you. . .” 

She smiled at me. “You must have been through something rough. I can tell. You have that aura about you. The same sort of aura all demigods do.” 

“Are you a demigod?” I asked her. 

She shook her head. “No. I’m just a mortal. A sorceress, yes. But not a demigod.”

“How. . . how were you able to contact me in my dreams?” 

“Sympathetic magic. I had a connection to you through your school ID, thankfully. So when I got home that night, I worked my will and sent you a message in your dreams. I wasn’t sure if you survived or not. But I tried to do everything I could for you.” 

“Thank you,” I sniffled. I sucked on my lips, trying to find the words. 

“Don’t mention it.” 

“Your sons. . .”

Miss Blackwood must have been a mind reader, because she knew exactly what I was going to say. “Yes, they’re both demigods. Ryan is a child of Hecate, my love.”

“And Leon?” 

“He is a child of Heracles. I took him in after his mother died. And he’s been with me and Ryan ever since.” 

I still had a lot of questions. But a lot of the mystery had been cleared up. “They’re in danger, the monsters-” 

She raised her hand. “I know. I know. And after this school year, I’ll be sending them both to camp. I just want them to be able to savor things while they can. But. . . with how quickly Ryan’s powers are growing. Well, soon he’ll be an even more powerful sorcerer than I am.” 

Ryan really was powerful. Now that I knew a little more about him, the puzzle was piecing together in my mind. That trick he pulled back in the cafeteria, that was him using the mist. I’d seen some of the others do the same thing. I just didn’t put two and two together before. 

“Simon’s been watching over them. He’s a good satyr. Has a good heart. Brave despite it all,” Miss Blackwood said. “He told me a little about you. You’re a daughter of Hermes, right?” 

I nodded. Some part of me felt bothered by the fact that Simon talked with someone else about me, but whatever. “Yeah, sure am.” 

“He’s a fascinating god. Versatile. Tricky. Magical. Do you know how to use magic?” 

I laughed, closing my eyes and looking down as I did. “Not unless you count brewing potions as magic.” 

“Oh?” she said, leaning back in her chair. “So you’re an alchemist, then?” 

“Yeah, something like that. I know how to make some basic potions and a dreaming potion of my own creation.” 

“A dreaming potion? How does that work?” 

I Finally found someone to share my knowledge with. Someone who might understand. “Well, it’s a few different herbs mixed. A powerful oneirogen combined with a sedative. It makes you sleepy, helps you to feel relaxed, and it helps you to have good dreams. I’d love to brew some more of it for myself, but. . . well, I don’t have the equipment to do that.” 

“I might be able to assist you in that regard.” 

I blinked. “Really? Holy crap, that would be amazing!” 

“Of course, dear. I like to watch others work their wills. Practice their craft. I’m sure Ryan would be fascinated as well.” 

“I’ll help to keep them safe as well. Me and Simon, we’ll keep both of them safe.” 

Miss Blackwood smiled at that. “Thank you, dear. I appreciate that. Would it be okay if I could ask you about this camp? Hecate told me about it when Ryan was born.”

“It’s probably the safest place for us, to be honest. There’s a magical barrier around the camp. It keeps the monsters - and regular mortals - out. We train there, learn everything we need to know to survive out here.” 

“So, you’re a fighter, then?”

“Oh, definitely,” I chuckled. “I’m probably the best swordsman in camp. Well, until one of the big three kids surpasses me, at least. Or maybe I’m just full of myself.” I shrugged. 

“Big three?” She echoed. 

“Oh, the children of Lord Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus. They’re more powerful than other demigods. Much more powerful. Like my friend Matt, he’s a son of Lord Hades. One day, he’ll be a better swordsman than I am. I was helping to train him. And his powers? Gosh, he’s already so powerful. It’s nuts.” 

“Are there other children of Hecate? And Heracles?”

“Yeah. All the gods have kids there. I have so many brothers and sisters,” I laughed. “It’s crazy. Hermes, he really gets around.” 

Miss Blackwood bellowed with laughter at that. “Indeed, he does. God of travelers and what not. I’m glad to hear my boys won’t be alone there.” 

She stood up. “Well, you probably should join them. They’ll wonder what’s going on if you take much longer.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

I named my character Trismegistus. That means thrice great for those of you not in the know. It’s one of my dad’s epithets. Probably my favorite, if I’m being honest. They were a Moros mage, an alchemist. They were primarily good at using death and matter magic, with a bit of mind mixed in. 

Ryan was a fantastic storyteller. It was honestly surprising how good he was at it. 

For a little while, I felt normal. What do I mean by that? Well, I mean I felt like a normal mortal. Just a girl hanging out with her friends and doing what any other teenager would, y’know? It was a nice little lie to get lost in for just a little while.

After a few hours, Ryan concluded our session. Then, he started nerding out with me about the Percy Jackson books. 

“So, what did you think of the first book?” He asked, eyes wide with excitement. 

“It’s pretty good. I like all the characters, except for Gabe. He’s a butthead.”

“Even Luke?” He asked.

“Especially Luke. He’s probably my favorite, to be honest.” 

Ryan looked at me like I was crazy. “But why? He tried to kill Percy.” 

I shrugged. It wasn’t like I could tell Ryan the truth. If I did that, then I’d be putting him in more danger than he already is. “I like villains and anti-heroes. What can I say? What about you? Who’s your favorite?” 

Ryan thought about that a little. “In the first book? Uh, probably Annabeth.” 

“Why?” 

“She’s cool and smart, and Percy totally would’ve died without her.” 

Yeah. He probably would have. 

“Do you think it’s real, Lupa?” 

His question punched me right in the gut. I didn’t have to think about it. Of course it’s real. But now, of course, I had to lie. “No,” I said. “Of course not.” 

He studied me for a few moments. “You never told me the story behind your magic items.” 

By then. Leon was taking an interest in our conversation. “Magic items?” He echoed. “What do you mean?” 

“Her hairpin, her bracelets, her flashlight, and something in her pocket are all magical. She’s loaded with magic items, like some sort of murderhobo from Dungeons and Dragons.” 

I spurted out laughter at that. Never had I ever been called a murderhobo. 

“So what’s the deal with them? C’mon, tell me.” 

Simon was looking at me with one of those wide-eyed, almost panicked sort of looks. “It’s a secret,” I said, putting a finger to my lips. “If I told you, that’d ruin the magic.” 

Ryan sighed. “That’s lame.” 

I shrugged. “Maybe one day.” 

“You sound just like my mom,” he grumbled.

I shrugged at that. “Well, y’know, I am named after the she-wolf.” 

“What kinda name is that, by the way?” Ryan asked. 

Gee, this guy is just so direct about things. 

“It’s Roman. It means she-wolf. You’ve never heard the story of Lupa and the twins?”

Ryan thought for a moment. “Uh, wait. . . Is this the one where the two babies get sent down the river?” 

I nodded. “Yup.”

Ryan twisted his lips while he studied me. The way he was looking, it was like he wanted to ask me something, but there was something keeping him from doing so. 

“What is it?” I asked. 

Predictably, Ryan didn’t tell me what was going on. 

Instead, he shook his head. “Nothing.” 

And, of course, nothing in this case meant something. Because no one can ever just say what they want to say or ask what they want to ask. “Okay. . . I think I’m gonna go to bed then. We can play some more tomorrow.” 

I slept on the couch. I felt more comfy that way. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to hang out with my friends, of course. But it felt a little weird to sleep near a bunch of boys. 

It was really hard to get to sleep. Stupidly hard. I had some melatonin that helped. But I just kept worrying about a monster showing up in the middle of the night. Or having a nightmare. 

Something nudged me in my sleep. And, well, that freaked me out. Listen, let sleeping wolves lie. Trust me. I gasped awake and instinctively grabbed my pen from my pocket. I was about to activate it when I saw who had woken me up. 

Ryan stood there, his hands clasped together and drawn close to his body. He had a weird look on his face. Kind of hard to put it into words. But I could tell one thing for certain: he was nervous. “I’m sorry, I just. . .” he whispered, then looked down. 

“Dude, what’s going on? I was sleeping.” 

“I, um. . .” he sighed and shook his head. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

“If it’s about my magic-”

“No,” Ryan shook his head. “That’s not it. It’s. . . it’s something else. . .”

I stared at him, waiting for him to tell me more.

“You gotta promise not to tell anyone.” 

“What? What do you mean?” I asked.

“It’s. . . it’s a secret, please. Please promise me you won’t tell.” 

I sighed and thought about what he could possibly want to tell me.

It kind of reminded me of when I was the mediator. People would talk to me, confide in me. Trust me to help them. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone.” 

“Back in school, those guys, they said they knew you. That. . . that your name was Gale, and that you were a boy. . . is that true?” 

I sucked on my lips and sighed. “Kind of, yes.”

“Kind of?” He echoed. 

“My name was Gale. And, well, I mean, I’m trans. I have a boy’s body, but. . . I’m not a boy in my spirit. I don’t know if that makes sense or not. Why does it matter?” 

Ryan didn’t strike me as the kind of boy to be a transphobe. Did he like me? Was that it? Honestly, I was really confused by him.

“Come with me,” he whispered. “I want to show you something.” 

Okay, well, this is definitely weird. “What is it?” Also, what is it with people asking me to go with them so they can talk to me alone? Jeesh. I got two nickels the same night as the saying goes. And it was really bizarre that I’d gotten two nickels at all.

He looked back at me with that same nervous look as he waited by the patio door. “Magic.” 

It was cold, freezing. Autumn nights sometimes can get like that, y’know? 

Ryan waited for me to close the door before he spoke. “Okay. Don’t forget your promise.”

I nodded. “I won’t.” 

Ryan raised his arms up into a v and chanted. “Ego revelare.” Repeatedly.

He wasn’t chanting loudly, just loud enough for both of us to hear. I think he was speaking in Latin. 

Next thing I know, there’s this weird distortion effect all around us. Something like transparent smoke. I tried to catch it with my hands, but it just passed through my body like I was a ghost. 

Whatever it was, Ryan was drawing it to him, wrapping it around himself like a cloak. 

I watched on as the distortion engulfed him. His appearance changed, the sound of his voice heightened. Ryan’s features softened a little, his hair cascaded down his shoulders and back, ending in red curls. He kind of looked a kind of like Rose. If I focused my eyes, I could see his body beneath the mist. 

Ryan looked at me with pleading eyes as he wrapped his arms around himself. “Please. . . don’t tell. . .”

And I finally understood what he was trying to tell me. Why he made me promise not to tell anyone. “You’re. . . Trans?” I guessed. 

He, no, she nodded to me. “I think. . . I don’t know. . .” Her voice was also distorted, sometimes it was her boy voice. Other times it was her girl voice. 

“I promise you, I won’t tell anyone.” I walked closer. “What should I call you?” 

“I. . . I haven’t chosen a name.” 

I tapped my chin in thought, then pointed. “What about Rylee? It’s a cute name.” 

A small smile spread over her features. “Rylee,” she echoed. “Okay. . .” 

Jules lay strapped on a table, writhing weakly under the metal clasps that held him in place. How long had he been there? Minutes? Hours? Days?

It didn't matter. All he could do was stare at the metallic fingers that hovered over him, part in fear and part in anticipation. They came down from the abyss that made up the ceiling and walls of the chamber. Bits of viscera were still dripping off them.

J̴̧̦͙̳̪̱͐͌͐͐̋̎̚͝ư̷̗̼̥̱̯͔̘͚͇͖̔̃͒̃͌͋̈́͊̑́͠͝͝l̵̢̦͖͉̗͍͔͖̟̯͊̂͋̆́͋̈́̕e̷̠̯̭̱̪̹̲̗̯͋̈́s̶̡̛͙͉̺̱͙̳̫̗̎̀͘͜ owned a ship and the ship was entirely made of wood flesh. Every time a piece of the ship needed replacing it was replaced with a metal part. This went on for a few years until eventually it was entirely made of metal.

Is the metal ship of J̴̧̦͙̳̪̱͐͌͐͐̋̎̚͝ư̷̗̼̥̱̯͔̘͚͇͖̔̃͒̃͌͋̈́͊̑́͠͝͝l̵̢̦͖͉̗͍͔͖̟̯͊̂͋̆́͋̈́̕e̷̠̯̭̱̪̹̲̗̯͋̈́s̶̡̛͙͉̺̱͙̳̫̗̎̀͘͜ the same ship as the wood- flesh ship of J̴̧̦͙̳̪̱͐͌͐͐̋̎̚͝ư̷̗̼̥̱̯͔̘͚͇͖̔̃͒̃͌͋̈́͊̑́͠͝͝l̵̢̦͖͉̗͍͔͖̟̯͊̂͋̆́͋̈́̕e̷̠̯̭̱̪̹̲̗̯͋̈́s̶̡̛͙͉̺̱͙̳̫̗̎̀͘͜ ?

”No,” thought Jules as the clawed metal arm reached down and pulled out a bone from his chest. His sternum this time. He would've screamed, if his vocal cords hadn't already been removed and replaced with a speech synthesizer unit.

”It’s not, because it's better.”, Thought Jules as the metal arm plunged into his chest and removed his heart, only seconds before another arm dove in and put a combustion engine in its place.

The first thing Jules did when he woke up in the Medical Cabin was throw up in the conveniently placed sick bucket next to him, which told him that this wasn't the first time this was happening. He reached with his left hand to wipe his mouth with a groan.

The second thing Jules did after waking up was scream, and from the way it was cut short cause of the hoarseness of his throat, he was guessing that it wasn't the first time this had happened either. But this time, the sweet embrace of Hypnos and that strange, beautiful nightmare he kept finding himself in did not give him escape from reality, as it registered that there was nothing left beyond his elbow to reach up and wipe his mouth with.

So, it was real. There was no way to deny it, not when he was staring at the bloody, bandaged of where his left hand used to be. He tried to pinch himself, and almost felt the phantom pain in his right arm as his left elbow wiggled uselessly in its bandage. He almost screamed again. He would've, if his bleeding throat had allowed him to.

Thoughts seemed to race across his mind but they felt like leaves caught in a river, floating away before he could catch them, never really sinking in. He didn't know how to feel- or even how he felt right then, the numbness was as nauseating as it was overwhelming. The pain in his stump ached dully and remained a constant background noise as much as it was the only thing he could focus on.

This… It just. It just couldn't be… Right? He was Jules after all. Such petty things could not stop him… Could they? It was just a flesh wound after all. Jules was… he was… above that?

Wasn't he?

He felt sick again but there was nothing left to throw up, so he just heaved and dry-retched. In disgust maybe. Maybe in fear. He couldn’t tell anymore, he felt too much as the whirlpool of his fear, disgust, anger and anxiety melded together into one nauseating mix; but beyond everything else what ate at him the most was how human he felt right then, lying helpless and terrified in that hospital bed. Yeah, that was it. Weak, pathetic and so disgustingly human. Yes, it was just a flesh wound, but what was he, if not flesh? The truth he'd so conveniently forgotten, or perhaps hidden away for so long now confronted him before his eyes and he didn't know how to feel.

Flesh and bone. That's all there was to Jules Verma-Morgan. Simple, mortal flesh. Subject to time. Subject to decay. Subject to death. And no amount of mastery over his craft would put him above those things because in the end, all he was, was… human. And now, with one of his hands gone, he wasn’t even certain of that mastery he so prided himself on.

Perhaps tears would've been shed right then. The first tears he'd have shed in years, if he wasn't so dehydrated right then. He was almost glad for it. He didn't need another humiliating reminder of his humanity. His disgusting, fragile humanity.

The frustration that was already simmering in his chest almost reached a boil as he realised the bottle of water was on the bedside table. The one that was to his left. But rather than coming out in a scream or a curse or gritting of his teeth, came instead was a whimper. One that he barely managed to suppress by biting his already bleeding, chapped lip as he turned and weakly reached over. It took him another second to realise that he had no way to open it even when if he did get it, so instead he let himself fall halfway through, letting the upper half of his body dangle limply off the edge of his cot.

He had vague memories of when he'd woken up the last few times. He hazily remembered screaming and nearly punching a blue-haired girl who'd tried to reattach his arm. He suppressed another noise. He could not figure out whether it was a laugh or a sob, all he knew was that it left him convulsing in fits that made his cot shake. The ungreased joints creaked under the duress.

It didn't matter. No, it was good actually! He almost- no, certainly felt glad that he'd refused the treatment, because now, he could replace the imperfect, weak flesh he'd lost with something perfect. Something strong, and certain. Something made of metal. Yes. Maybe this was just a sign. The push he needed to become better. Something that could eventually withstand beyond the whims of time.

In the limp, broken form that remained of the ever-so prideful Jules Verma-Morgan rekindled a different kind of flame. A frenzied spark in his eyes that was indistinguishable from madness- and perhaps that's what it was. Madness, at the realisation of his own frailty, but in that madness he knew one thing to be certain. He needed to become better, and the first step of that would be replacing what he’d lost with something stronger.

…But right now what he really needed was water. His throat screamed at him, almost hurting worse than his now no longer present arm, and he could barely even pull himself straight from the way he was half-hanging off the edge of his cot right now. As much as it pained him to do so, he craned his neck around to see if he could find someone who might be able to assist him. At least till he could go back to not needing any assistance again.

[Open RP] (Note: Takes place at the Medical Cabin at Camp)

^(^^Big ^^thanks ^^to ^^Mal, ^^Foss ^^and ^^Hope ^^for ^^their ^^feedback ^^<3)

The forge was already alive with heat and light when Taylor entered, the rhythmic pounding of hammers on anvils echoing through the stone-walled space. The smell of metal, coal, and sweat was a familiar comfort to him now, and it set his mind buzzing with the possibilities ahead. He had a job to do—a request from Mr.D to replenish camp's supply of daggers—and he was determined to go above and beyond.

"Thirty daggers, at least," Taylor muttered to himself, setting his gloves and apron on the workbench, his lips quirking in a grin. That particular number hadn't really been required by the job board, it was one Taylor had set for himself. "Thirty daggers in a month. Shouldn't be too bad. Let’s make this fun."

Daggers were one of the first weapons he had learned to forge, and he knew the basics by heart. But Taylor didn’t want to simply churn out identical pieces. This was a chance to get creative, to experiment with different styles, designs, and techniques. The campers who’d wield these daggers might be fighting monsters someday—each weapon should be as unique as its owner.

Taylor began the first week with the fundamentals. He selected the raw materials carefully, laying out the ingots of celestial bronze with the precision of an artist setting up a palette. He heated the forge to a roaring glow and began hammering away, shaping the metal into simple, functional blades.

Each dagger followed the same formula: a sharp double-edged blade, a comfortable hilt, and perfect balance. He worked methodically, completing one dagger a day, ensuring the quality of each piece.

"Classic designs first," Taylor murmured as he held up a finished blade. The polished steel gleamed in the forge light, the edges sharp and precise. "Then we’ll start getting fancy."

By the second week, Taylor felt confident enough to branch out. He sketched designs in a battered notebook during his breaks, imagining different types of daggers. Some were sleek and minimalist, while others had intricate engravings or unusual shapes.

One morning, he decided to try his hand at a curved blade. He heated a steel ingot until it glowed orange, then hammered it carefully along an anvil’s edge to create a crescent shape. The result was a wicked-looking karambit-style dagger, perfect for close combat.

“Now that’s different,” he said, testing the balance.

Another day, he worked on a dagger with a wavy blade, inspired by ancient kris daggers. He painstakingly forged the undulating edges, then polished the blade until it shimmered like water.

“This one’s got personality,” Taylor said, grinning.

As the days went by, his workbench filled with a variety of pieces. There was a throwing dagger with a slim, aerodynamic design, a sturdy survival blade with a serrated edge, and even a ceremonial dagger with a hilt inlaid with fragments of colored glass.

By the third week, Taylor was having the time of his life. He experimented with hilt materials, using leather, wood, and even bone. He carved intricate designs into the hilts, adding details like vines, waves, and stars. For one dagger, he shaped the hilt into the head of a wolf, its open jaws forming the crossguard. Encouraged by his results, Taylor continued pushing his boundaries.

By the last week of the month, Taylor had completed most of the daggers, but he still had a few left to go. He was tired but exhilarated, his hands calloused and his arms sore from hours of hammering, grinding, and polishing.

For the final batch, he focused on practicality. He made lightweight daggers for younger campers, durable ones for heavy use, and balanced ones for those who specialized in throwing. He double-checked the weight and sharpness of each blade, ensuring they met his high standards.

One night, as he finished a sleek, black-handled dagger with a subtle wave pattern on the blade, he leaned back and sighed. “Twenty-nine down,” he said, wiping his forehead. “One more to go.”

For the last dagger, Taylor decided to create something truly special to him. He selected a piece of celestial bronze and forged it into a blade with a leaf-like shape. He wrapped the hilt in soft, dark leather and added a small, stylized sunburst to the pommel—a nod to the light one could bring into the world, if they so wished.

As he polished the final blade, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

The next morning, Taylor would place all thirty daggers on the camp's armoury. They gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the windows, each one unique and perfect in its own way.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Taylor,” Taylor said, praising himself for all his efforts. “These should serve the camp well.”

It was a lot of work, but it was worth it for the son of Techne.

With a final glance at the rack of daggers, Taylor finally return to his cabin, and for the first time in weeks, allowed himself to finally rest after a month of hard work.

Even after the all this time after the Battle of New Argos had ended, there were still no clear answers about why it happened and who was behind it. Having been one of those who fought to protect the city to the best of her abilities, Sadira knew that this event would haunt her for the rest of her life. But she also knew that, compared to her host, she had been relatively lucky.

She still had her life, she hadn't lost anything or anyone important, she still had a family and a home to return to. Many residents of New Argos, unfortunately, couldn't say the same.

Realistically, there was little that Sadira could do to help that wasn't already being done by the city itself. But New Argos had done nothing but be welcoming and accommodating to her and Camp Half-Blood as a whole. The least she could do was try to give that back by helping as much as she could.

So, the young daughter of dreams decided to set up a Supply Raising Activity, something that she would need a lot of help with. Everyone was free to contribute with something: Water, food, sleeping bags and blankets, first aid kits, etc. And of course, she would need help to distribute everything that they would have raised to as many people as possible.

It would probably still not be much, probably a drop in an ocean, it would at least be helping some people. And that made Sadira feel a little more at peace.

Format

Name Activity | Day Activity | Day

You can only reserve up to two slots per character. If you have multiple characters, make one comment for all of them instead of one each.

There can only be one Meal per day, at any time! Any camper can host them.

Campfires happen twice a week. Campers coordinate these with the camp directors, so anyone can host them!

Open Slots happen every day and can include Lessons, QOTDs, Cabin Inspections, Cabin Meetings, Games, movie nights, social gatherings, etc. Lessons, Cabin Inspections and Meetings can only be hosted by a Camp Leader.

Counsellor Meetings are hosted once a month by a moderator and can only be joined by a Camp Leader.

Once a week, a camp-wide activity such as a party, Trip to the City, Beach Day, etc. Each week the event will be different. While they're normally hosted by the mods, a regular camper can host them.

Comment below what you'd like to host!

NOTE: Failure to meet your own slot three times in a row will lock you out of commenting on the Schedule for a month. (You can still post activities outside of the schedule, just not meals or campfires.)

Monday

Meal -

Open Slot -

Tuesday

Campfire -

Open Slot -

Wednesday

Meal -

Open Slot -

Thursday

Meal - Johnathan Walnut

Open Slot -

Friday

Meal -

Open Slot -

Saturday

Campfire -

Meal -

Open Slot -

Sunday

Meal -

Open Slot - Dorian Seymour

_______________________________________________

Leave your name below in the shown format to sign up for an activity!

View the rest of the month in our Character Log in the Calendar sheet.

You can reserve slots in advance!

If you are new welcome! You can check out this post to get started. If you aren't new, please answer this form to be featured on the character log and visit the Link Hub.

Deliria Aria Chavez

^(Aliases: Del, Ria)

^(‘Growing Up On The Internet’ - NOAHFINNCE)

Case 1056 : ‘A delirious child, with utterly no concepts of social awareness.’

“It still hasn't hit me yet”

Age: 15

Child of Tyche , Cabin #19

“I much prefer the sharpest criticism of a single intelligent man to the thoughtless approval of the masses.”

“Life creates itself in delirium and is undone in ennui.”

Disorders: ADHD 

Slight Inconveniences: often wears knee brace on left knee due to past fracture

“I'm an ADHD, LGBT, L-M-N-O-P,”

Fatal Flaw: Vanity

“The thing about delirium is you think it's great, but it actually isn't.”

”Growing up on the internet. Think it'll fuck your head”

“Painting is an illusion, a piece of magic, so what you see is not what you see.”

“Putting the noise to bed. Thinking it's time for a rest”

Aura Manipulation - DOMAIN

Disorienting Howl - DOMAIN

Fortune Sense - MINOR

Relaxing Laugh - MINOR

ShieldBreaking - DOMAIN

Sneak Attack - DOMAIN 

Machine Manipulation - MAJOR

“All night, gaslight, on and on. Pixelate to find where I belong”

APPEARANCE:

– Del (or Deliria) is an effortlessly intriguing presence. Their purple-dyed hair is styled into a sharp, masculine wolf-cut, the kind that adds to their edgy, slightly rebellious look. The bangs are parted in the middle, giving a frame to their light blue eyes—so pale they nearly look white under the right lighting, adding an ethereal, almost mysterious quality to their gaze. Their face is accentuated by nose piercings, which are connected by a delicate chain across the bridge, giving their look a unique and bold flair.

Del’s skin has a rich, tea-like tone, warm and deep, contrasting with the cool tones of their hair and eyes. Their build is slightly muscular but not overly so, hinting at a natural strength. Despite their stylish edge, Del often looks tired, like they’ve seen and experienced more than their years would suggest. On most days, they’re very fashionable, effortlessly piecing together outfits that reflect their unique sense of self—although on days they’re too worn out to bother, comfort wins out. Their height places them somewhere between what’s considered short for a guy and tall for a woman, emphasizing their androgynous, genderfluid expression. –

“(Rewind it all) to reverse it all. The damage that's been done. I'll make my exit”

PERSONALITY:

• Deliria, Del when going by masculine pronouns, is a rather… interesting character. They always seem a bit standoff-ish, but also appear very clingy and affectionate around those they’ve become close and trusting towards. The child of Tyche is often quiet, and has a resting bitch face, but truly can be quite sweet. But, do note to watch out for their angry outbursts.

~ History

Deliria was born in Atlanta, Georgia, and lived there till she was about 7, when her mother, Mirian, passed away. Her mother was suffering from her own problems, and drowned in them (Not literally). Along with her sister, Deliria ended up in foster care, house to house, state to state, until her sister turned 18 and took over her sibling’s legal custody. They moved to New York, specifically Queens. Deliria came out to their sister very soon afterwards with their fluctuating gender, and it was taken in very nicely. Their sister was supportive and very affectionate, helping in whatever way was needed at the moment.

Coming into camp was a long story. That story cut short? Deliria was kidnapped by a half-donkey(goat) weirdo who insisted on approaching danger.

“I'm not the only one”

+ PRESENT

Del, tired and worn out from being dragged from bed by her best friend, Jordi, and practically kidnapped by said friend, was not a happy camper. He was exhausted, not well dressed, and hardly had time to put on his binder. Does that explain his issues thoroughly enough for the likes of every other living being? Of hell no. He was also so very salty that he couldn’t pack his phone. And what comes with all of this?

Del’s hair was a mess. A MOP! A bright, annoying, purple mop on top of his head! 

And Jordi left. Of course he did. The damn fucking donkey! Such an ass!

And now here Del was, with a bag of his things on his shoulder, standing by this big rickety house, with no clue where to go. Just his luck.

Personality and Traits

Appearance: Layla is very short. She's 4'11" and people underestimate her a lot. It doesn't bother her though. People's opinions don't determine her skills. Layla has curly black hair and likes to leave it down. She had tan skin and brown eyes (she finds her eyes boring.) Layla likes to wear black hoodies and quite a few rings.

Faceclaim

Personality: Layla is a typical introvert and night owl. She stays up late, sleeps in, and doesn't like to talk to people, specifically people that she's not friends with. Besides that, once you get to know her, she's pretty fun. She tries to keep a positive attitude and likes to be supportive. She can be a little sensitive at times, but she's really fun.

Positive Traits: Layla is observant, creative, supportive, and is willing to try new things. If you want someone to help you out with something new, you can go to Layla. If you don't know her very well, she'll be sceptical, but happy to help out.

Negative Traits: Layla has trust issues, holds grudges, is sensitive, and can sometimes get jealous. It's hard for Layla to trust people and get close to them. Layla holds grudges, so if you somehow screw up, pretty much all bets are off until you make it up to her. She's sensitive to things and doesn't like to get involved with drama. Layla can also get jealous when her friends hang out with others without her, but it's a very minor issue and something she's working on.

Powers and Inventory

Domain Powers:

- Shadow Manipulation

- Shadow Blending

- Summon Shade

Minor Powers:

- Nightmare Inducement

- Animal Aggravation

- Cold Manipulation (Frigiokinesis)

Major Power:

- Seance

Weapon: Midnight - A celestial bronze knife with a black handle and a moon engraved in the handle.

Backpack:

- A few of her favorite books

- Her collection of rings

- A notebook and pencil for writing

- Various art supplies

Character Demographics

Hometown: Lewiston, Maine

Age: 15

Birthday: December 10th

Hobbies: 

- Writing

- Reading

- Drawing

- Stargazing

- Hiking

Sexuality: Bisexual

Present Day: 

Layla walked through the camps borders. Thankfully, she didn't have a monster chasing after her when she came. She looked around at the camp. A bunch of campers were outside, enjoying the fresh air. As much as Layla loved the outdoors, she wouldn't mind the sun not being so bright for a day or so. Layla stared around camp, figuring out what she should do.

The Battle of New Argos was still unclear to many, the motivations for why it had happened, the exact losses and full damage hadn't come to light yet. But what was clear is that there were a great many citizens of the city who had lost their home, there were others who had lost far more and had lost everything. By comparison Camp Half-Blood had gotten off lightly, even if they had suffered and lost people. People needed distraction from what had happened, there needed to be some hope again.

Around the Camp Half-Blood area and areas for the other competitors, Matt had been going around trying to recruit people to help him set up a soup kitchen. It wouldn't take much to set up and the visitors could give something back to their hosts, those who were grieving might be able to take their mind off things. It was xenia in its most simple form.

Matt had been able to find some hearty vegetables, so they would be making a vegetable soup. But he needed help to do it. He needed people chopping the vegetables, he needed people stirring the soup, he needed people ready to serve it up to the people who would come and he needed people to enter the damaged city and let them know that people still cared and wanted to help.

Matt stood ready to greet anyone who was around and wanted to contribute. He just hoped that people would find it within themselves to come out and help.

PREVIOUS

• September 2038, Monday, the second week of school, after school

Grief and love go hand in hand, telling a story with their plan. Scars and hurts do they leave. I just wish it wasn’t me. Healing is hard, yes I know. You don’t have to tell me so.

So right after killing the dog man, I had to go to my second therapy session. Real good timing, am I right?

Dad met me outside with the minivan. “Hey, how was school?” He asked as I stepped in and practically melted into the seat.

I closed my eyes and basked in the AC. “It was okay.”

“Anything exciting happen?” Martin asked.

Part of me was terrified that Simon may have told Martin about what happened at school.

I stretched and yawned, trying to buy myself a few moments to think of how to respond. Finally, I just decided to lie. “Nah. I saved one of my friends from a bunch of bullies. Well, maybe that isn’t entirely accurate. Another friend of ours kinda saved both of us.”

“Oh?” Martin asked. “What were they doing? Did they hurt you?” The way Martin asked it, it was clear he was entering that protective dad sort of mode. The idea of that honestly made me feel happy in a way. To know that he cared about me like that.

“I knew one of them from another school I was in. He knows I’m trans. Bullied me about it. I didn’t let it get to me too much, though.”

“Did you tell a teacher?” Martin asked.

“My friend Leon came in and scared them off. I don’t think they’ll be messing with any of us anymore.”

“If it happens again, tell a teacher, okay?”

I didn’t know how to feel about that. Like I get why Martin would want for me to snitch, I do. But I never was one to run to a teacher when it came to bullies. I mostly handled it myself, y’know? A bully bullied me and I usually would just prank the crap out of them. Embarrass them in front of everyone. Teach them a lesson so they knew never to mess with me again.

But Mom and Dad were paying so much to let me go to school there; I couldn’t risk getting expelled. That and I wanted them to be proud of me.

“Okay,” I whispered, nodding.

“Your second session with Naya is today. Are you ready?”

I sighed. To be honest, I didn’t know if I was ready. But, sometimes there're just things in life that you can’t ever really be prepared for. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Thankfully, Martin didn’t pressure me into talking about the rest of my day. I felt bad keeping secrets from him. To be honest, I wanted to never have to keep another secret in my life. Keeping secrets sucks. They are a burden that constantly weighs on you every time you talk to someone else. There were so many times where I wanted to tell Mom I was trans before. I never did because I was afraid of how she’d react.

It didn’t take us long to reach Naya’s office. And before I knew it, I was plopped in her chair again. “Hello, Lupa. How was your day today?”

I folded my hands and leaned back into the chair. I sighed. “It was okay. I guess. School is hard.”

Naya smiled and chuckled at that. “Ohoho, just wait until you get into college.”

College. The idea of going to college seemed. . . kind of absurd to me. “I don’t know what I want to do.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, breaking out her pen and paper.

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling as I rested my head on the back of the chair. Once again, the words for what I wanted to say whirled around in my brain. Slowly, I put them together. It was like a freaking mental Rubik’s cube. I had to sort of experiment with the words in my head until I found a way to say them aloud. I had to make them sound right. To get what I was trying to say across. It can be really difficult sometimes. “I had this dream back when I first arrived in camp,” I started to explain. Miss Naya leaned in close, like I immediately said something that caught her interest.

“I was in a snowy forest in the middle of the night. I heard something and turned around to find a shadowy monster thingy coming right at me. I screamed, but it passed right through me like I was a ghost. Then, the Hunters of Artemis came chasing after it. They moved like a blur and pelted the monster with their arrows. Then, Artemis crested on the top of a hill. She was glowing silver and drew back the string on her bow. With one shot, there was a blinding flash, and the monster was gone. All the Hunters flocked to her and. . .” I paused, trying to find the words. I was clickity clicking my mental Rubik’s cube furiously, trying to align the words. “I felt like I had finally found where I was meant to be. Who I was meant to be. I knew I was meant to be with them as one of them. I stepped forward to join them, and I heard this cracking noise. I looked down and saw my reflection. I was a girl. Kinda like how I look out here, but. . . better. And. . .” I blew air through my nostrils. “I didn’t want it to be true.”

“Didn’t want what to be true?” Miss Naya asked.

“I never wanted to be transgender. I read a book recently. It’s about us, funny enough.”

“Trans people?”

I shook my head. “No, demigods. The first line was the main character saying that he never wanted to be a half-blood.”

I chuckled and echoed the words in the book along with my own sentiments about being trans. “Look, I never wanted to be a half-blood. Look, I never wanted to be trans. . .”

Miss Naya nodded. “It’s unfortunate, the lives that we lead as demigods. How transgender people are treated in the world. I understand your struggle, at least somewhat. I’m not trans, of course. But I know all about not wanting to deal with things like being a demigod. But. . . being a demigod, being trans, both are part of who we are. They don’t define us entirely, of course. But we can’t deny the truth about ourselves. As tempting as it might be to try.”

The way Miss Naya talked, it reminded me of Dad. Of Hermes. He was so wise, and the way he spoke? Unlike anyone I’ve ever talked to.

“I know. I realized that. I just. . . I wish I didn’t have to go through what I did to realize that.”

My side ached, the scar the boar gave me, the reminder of my brush with death. It hurt. It was an ugly thing, gnarled and just awful. A permanent reminder of what happened. Some part of my mind screamed out to not talk about this, to not go back to that memory.

Naya tilted her head slightly with a look of concern. “What happened?”

MUSIC

Her question sent me back to that moment. I was there again in the forest with Annis. I could hear the boar. I could hear Annis yelling for me. My heart was drumming in my ears. Everything was so far away. I shuttered a breath out and swallowed. Miss Naya must’ve noticed. She held her hands out to me. I looked down at them. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” she whispered to me.

I sucked on my lips and squeezed her hands. My vision was burning again. My throat felt dry. My whole body felt cold, just like back then. “I didn’t think it would be this hard. . .” I choked out. “I thought that-” I shook my head, trying to find the words. “That therapy was supposed to make me feel better. . .”

“The mind isn’t so different from the body, really. It can be wounded, scarred. And those wounds ache when we confront them. The goal of therapy is to improve your life. To help you find relief from your troubles. It’s a lot like. . . mending a broken leg. The process is painful, debilitating even. But ultimately, your wound will be mended. And you’ll be able to walk again.” The feeling kept intensifying. “I-” I sobbed. “I want to walk again, Miss Naya.” My hands felt numb. My chest hurt. It was hard to breathe. “I-I went hunting in the woods with my friend Annis. She took me because I broke into Lady Artemis’ cabin. We found a boar, it was gonna kill her,” I hadn’t realized it, but the volume of my voice was rising. I was heaving for breath, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air. “I saved her. I-I tackled it and killed it. And it got me, too. It got me with its tusk, and I nearly died!” I shook my head, trying to get away from the memories. I was wailing now. Miss Naya was talking to me, trying to calm me down, but her words were hard to hear. “I don’t wanna have nightmares anymore!” I wailed. “Slow, deep breaths, okay? You’re okay. You’re safe. You gotta breathe, honey-”

“I can’t. I-”

“Lupa?” Miss Naya asked, concern rising in her voice. “Are you okay? Talk to me.”

Everything was spinning. I doubled over and threw up all over the carpet.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, my throat burning.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Shh, just, deep breaths, okay? In for four seconds, out for four seconds.”

We spent the rest of the time practicing ways to keep calm during a panic attack. Honestly, throwing up on my therapist’s carpet had to be one of the most embarrassing things ever. Right up there with getting my butt kicked by Annis in the middle of the night.

My head was absolutely killing me by the time me and Miss Naya went back to the lobby. Martin stood and walked over to me. “Dad,” I whispered, stepping forward and hugging Martin. He hugged me back.

“Hey, are you okay?” Martin asked. I sat on a chair in Miss Naya’s lobby. “I’m sorry,” I said to her. “I didn’t mean to. . .”

Miss Naya smiled at me. How everyone constantly found the strength to smile. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand that. It’s beyond me

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Right now, just focus on feeling better. The carpet will come clean. I’m more worried about you than anything.”

Great. Even my therapist was worried about me. At least she gets paid for her worries.

I breathed out through my nose deeply, trying to push the stress away. It took a few minutes, but eventually I felt calm again.

Miss Naya sat beside me and Martin. “I wanted to ask you both a question,” she said to us.

“What?” Martin asked.

“I can help you with your nightmares. If you want,” she said to me. “I’ve helped many, many people with their dreams. Including your dad.”

I thought about it. I remembered the talk Martin and I had back during Christmas. “What would that be like?” I asked.

“I’m a dreamwalker, like Rose. I can go into other people’s dreams and guide them through it. It’s extremely useful for therapy and I feel like it could help you a lot.”

I looked at Dad. He was frowning, probably because he was worried about me, too. But he gave me a nod.

I looked back at Miss Naya. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

“When you go to sleep tonight, I’ll come to check on you.”

At least Miss Naya bothered to ask me. Rose had a terrible habit of just popping into people’s dreams uninvited. I kept telling her it wasn’t polite, but she didn’t seem to care. And people say I have a problem with boundaries. They don’t even know.

Me and Martin left and went back home. On the way back, I kept feeling like I had made a horrible mistake in coming back home. I didn’t think things would be so painful. So awful. “I’m sorry, dad,” I whispered to Martin.

“There’s no need to apologize,” he reassured me. “And you don’t have to worry. I won’t be telling your mom about what happened. Not unless you want to tell her.”

I felt torn about that whole idea. Part of me definitely wanted to confide in Mom. Another part of me didn’t want to worry her anymore than she already was. I hated lying. I had spent years lying. I didn’t want to do it anymore.

When we got home, I made a beeline for my room and shut myself away. Mom came by later and knocked on my door. “Lupa?” She asked. “Are you okay? Can I come in?”

I braced myself and called back to her. “Yeah.”

The door creaked open as Mom peeked around it. “Hey, are you okay?” She asked, clearly concerned.

I sat up in bed and sighed. “Yes ma’am. Just tired. It was a really tough day.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked me, getting closer and sitting on my bed beside me.

I kept quiet as I looked at her. I shook my head and whispered. “No, not right now, at least.”

Mom studied me for a bit. She knew something wasn’t right, of course. She could always tell. For all of my powers, my mom had her own sort of superpower, y’know? She could always tell when something wasn’t quite right. I guess her mommy senses were tingling, y’know?

Mom closed her eyes and nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “Well, dinner will be done in a couple of hours. I’ll come get you when it is. And if you need me, come and find me.”

“Yes ma’am. . .”

With that, Mom left. She didn’t press me for answers. Which kind of surprised me. In the past, she was always trying to press me for what was going on. I guess maybe she learned that I’ll eventually tell her when I’m ready. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who’s grown.

The rest of the day passed by. And once again, it was me and Martin on the couch. I’d taken my melatonin and was waiting for the sleepiness to come.

“What is it like?” I asked him.

“What is what like?” He asked, scratching my head gently.

“Dream therapy. You said you’ve done it with Miss Naya before, right?”

Martin went quiet for a few moments. “It’s like talk therapy, but more. . . Well, I’m not sure how to describe it entirely. Miss Naya, she goes with you in your dreams and the two of you talk about different things that have happened. It helped me a lot.”

“What are your dreams like?”

“It depends,” Martin said, sighing. “Sometimes, I’ll have wonderful dreams. Revisit good memories. Sometimes, I’ll have nightmares.”

“What’s the best dream you’ve had?”

“The ones where Morpheus comes to visit me.”

A weird thought crossed my mind. “Hey, uh. This is gonna sound like a really weird question. How did it work with you and Morpheus? Like you’re both guys. How did. . . y’know, Rose.”

Martin chuckled at that. “Well, it was actually really amazing. He made her out of sand. Right in my arms. There was this aura surrounding both of us, and her body formed. Then, her soul flew into her body and she came alive. It was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen. . . she was born in my arms. . .”

It definitely seemed like it was incredible, but there was also sadness in his voice. “You sound sad,” I said.

Martin went quiet again for a few moments. “Thinking about him makes my heart ache. We were close. But, when Rose was born. . .”

“He left,” I guessed.

“Yeah.”

“It was the same way with Mom and Hermes. She loved him a lot. She probably still loves him a lot. She didn’t want him to go.”

“How do you know?” Martin asked.

“Hermes showed me a dream. The last moments where all three of us were together. It was actually the only time we were all together. . .”

“I wouldn’t blame her for missing Hermes. I know what it’s like. The gods come into our lives and then. . . they leave us. All we can do is move forward.”

“Did you miss your mom? When you were younger?”

Martin chuckled and sighed again. “I still miss my mom. I met her once when I was younger.”

“Just once?”

“Just once,” he echoed. “After a quest. She came, and we talked for a short while. Then she was gone. And it’s been quiet ever since.”

“What was she like?”

“She was wise. Distant. But wise. I got the sense that she cared about me. About all of us. I don’t know if that’s because we were her children or if it was because we were her creations. I don’t know. She tried to help me. To console me.”

“Console you?”

MUSIC

Quiet. Again. A long, awkward, tense quiet. “My questmates died. . . Both of them died, and I was left alone to go back to camp.” I could feel the heaviness in Martin’s words. “I felt for the longest time that I had utterly failed them. I blamed myself. Told myself that I should have been the one to die. But I know that’s not what they would have wanted. They gave their lives willingly. Their sacrifice helped to save so many other lives. And I had my own mission to complete. If I had died, their deaths would have meant nothing.”

Immediately, I thought about Max and Austin. The three of us went on a quest to help the Party Ponies. What if the same thing had happened to us? What if they had died, and I survived? How could I live with that?

“H-how did you get over it?”

“Get over it?” Martin echoed. “Grief. . . I don’t think grief is something that we ever really get over. Grief is love with no place to go, with no one to receive it. All the love that we felt for those who have died, it transforms. And the more you love someone, the more you will grieve for them. It’s the culmination of love, really.”

I thought about the people I’ve grieved for. Thoth. Annis. Nay. Bandit’s mom. I know Bandit’s mom isn’t a person, yeah. But I definitely grieved for the mama dog. Did I love all of them? Thoth may have been an asshole, sure. But I never wanted him to die. And he gave his life to save me. And he was, well, he was trying to do the same thing I was: he was trying to see his family again. He just got lost as he was trying to do it. Fear got to me again. The terrible thoughts crept into my mind. About the future. About all the loss I was going to experience. “Dad. . . I’m scared.”

“What are you afraid of?” He asked.

“Of losing you guys. I. . . I don’t want to lose anyone else. But I know I’m going to. . .”

More quiet. “I know how you feel, Lu. After my friends died. My dad, too. I never wanted to experience loss like that again. When I met Morpheus, I thought that. . . I thought I had finally found something that would last forever. . . but even he. . .” Martin sighed. “Nothing lasts forever. Everything changes. But I know that death won’t be the end of us. We’ll all see each other again. Maybe not the same way, but we will meet again. I’m sure of it.”

“I love you,” I said to Martin. I sat up and I hugged him. And he hugged me back. I thought about Hermes. What he had told me. How he had to watch his children and his lovers die. How there wasn’t anything he could do. How many people had he seen die? How much grief had he experienced? How did he keep going despite all of that?

As I was drifting off to sleep, Martin told me one last thing. “I heard a quote in a game once. I think about it often when I’m feeling sad.”

“Mmm?” I groaned back, lacking the energy to put the words together.

“To grieve deeply is to have loved fully. Open your heart to the world as you have opened it to me, and you will find every reason to keep living in it.”

MUSIC

I was floating in the void. The surrounding darkness was warm, like a blanket that I could just lose myself in. Sometimes, I’d let the darkness do that, y’know? Swallow me up and just. . . lose myself for a little while. A dreamless sleep is better than a nightmare, I’d say.

IMAGE

The scene started to form around me as shapes of light drew themselves in the darkness. My bed, the window, all the furniture in my room - all of it was drawn and soon the void was gone, replaced by my room. I guess that makes sense, right? Where else would I begin a journey from than home?

Knock, knock, knock. Someone tapped at my door. I stood up and shuffled to the door. “Hello?” I asked.

“Hey Lupa, it’s Miss Naya. May I come in?”

Her voice sounded different. Similar, but definitely not exactly the same as the waking world.

I popped the door open to look outside. Someone was standing outside of my door. She looked sort of like a younger version of Miss Naya. Maybe in her 20s? Her hair was black instead of gray, and her skin didn’t have any wrinkles. “You look different,” I said. Then I noticed the craziest thing. Instead of the door leading to the rest of my home, there was a black void, sort of like when my dreams were forming. Within the void, there were countless lights, sort of like stars almost. “Woah, what is this?” I asked, opening the door wider.

Miss Naya smiled and chuckled. “The place between dreams,” Miss Naya explained. Then she looked me over. “Well, I’m not the only one who looks different, hmm?” She asked, chuckling.

I looked down at myself. “Yeah, this is the way I look in my dreams. The way I should be out there.” Reality stung sometimes. Y’know?

Miss Naya stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “So, this is what you looked like when you were younger?” I asked her.

“Yup. My body might be old, but my spirit? That’s still young,” she laughed. “So, this is your room?” She asked. “It looks nice.”

“Thanks. It’s a lot better than our old apartment.”

Miss Naya walked over to my bed. “May I have a seat?”

“Uh, sure.”

She sat down and patted the bed next to her. “Come and sit with me. Let’s talk.”

I shuffled over and sat next to her. She studied me with her chocolate eyes before smiling. “It’s not often I see someone so different from how they look in the waking world. I can only imagine how awful dysphoria must be. I’m so sorry,” she said in a comforting tone.

I sighed, and my whole body heaved with me. “Yeah. It’s been hard. I was so scared of. . . of going through puberty, y’know? Like I see the way guys are, and like, I didn’t want that to happen to me. But it’s gotten a lot better since I started transitioning. The hormones make me feel. . .” It was surprisingly hard to find the right word. “Right, I guess? They make me feel right. My body’s been changing, y’know? Like I’m actually becoming the person I’ve always wanted to be. It’s not perfect, it never really will be perfect. Not unless. . .”

“Unless you join the Hunt?” Miss Naya asked, finishing my sentence.

I nodded and whispered my reply. “Yeah. . .”

“It’s a tough choice to make, isn’t it?”

Again, I nodded.

“A lot of the girls who join the Hunt they don’t have a family. It was a much easier choice for them. But I feel from our prior conversation that you have a lot of stuff chaining you down, right?”

I looked at her. I must’ve looked surprised cause her grin widened. Not in a malicious sort of way, no. It was more like an ah hah, so that’s the answer, sort of way. “Yeah. I do.”

“It’s a hefty thing to be a hunter. Some of my friends from long ago joined. Sometimes I wish I had. But, well, life had other plans.”

“What happened?”

Miss Naya clasped her hands together and smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile. No. It was a very familiar sort of smile. I knew it well. It was the smile of someone lost in memories. Nostalgic. “I fell in love with a boy. Things didn’t work out between us in the long run, unfortunately. But. . . I knew I wasn’t meant to be a hunter. My place in the world was out here doing what I’m doing now.”

“How’d you figure out what you wanted to do?”

She chuckled. “Ah, that was the hard part. Our society today loves to hound young people about their futures. They try to push them into college or elsewhere because society thinks it’s so, so important for young people to know exactly what they want to be as teens,” she scoffs. “You wanna know the truth? I didn’t know what I wanted as a teenager. It took me many years and a lot of soul searching to find the answer. I, well, I’ve been through a lot in my life. Standard sort of stuff demigods go through. Dad wasn’t there for me and Mom, of course. And Mom? Well. . .” She sighed heavily. “It’s not important. I just realized that I wanted to be there for people. To guide them the way I wished I had someone to guide me. I never got my wish. I had to find my own way in the world. And it was hard, so very hard. But I made it. I survived.”

Listening to her story, even if I didn’t have all the details, I knew that Miss Naya had been through a lot. If there’s anything I’ve learned so far in life, it’s that wisdom like hers is forged in tough times. The wisest people seem to be those that have gone through the most in life. Maybe one day I would be wise like that, too. Wise, but not bitter. Wise, but not jaded.

“Miss Naya, I. . .” I sighed again. I splayed my fingers out and balled them up again, trying to grab the words. Slowly, I wove a sentence together. “I don’t know if I really want to be a hunter.”

“That’s okay. It’s okay if you don’t know exactly what you want to do with your life. Like I said, I sure didn’t. And, to be honest with you, Lupa, dreams change. When I was a kid, I wanted to be something completely different from what I am now. If I can ask, what makes you unsure about your path?”

“A lot of things,” I replied instantly. “Too many things.”

Miss Naya nodded. “Okay, well, let’s start with one thing at a time. Make a list. Lists make things so much easier.”

I reached into my pocket and brought out my pen: Diligence. It was a sword, sure. But it turns out that the pen also, to my surprise, worked as a pen. Guess that makes sense. Thoth could use it, after all. That probably sounds really stupid, doesn’t it? Well, look, I’m not used to transforming weapons also acting as regular objects, y’know?

She watched the pen in my hands with a curious look. But she didn’t say anything.

I started to write the reasons down, and while I did, I said them out loud, too.

“I might like boys. . . and maybe girls, too. I’d have to leave my family and friends behind. I might regret it. I’d have to watch as everyone outside of the Hunt aged and passed away.”

Thankfully, doing it this way actually made things easier. I guess because I had to concentrate on writing and speaking at the same time. There wasn’t really a chance for my anxiety to get the best of me.

“Okay, let’s tackle those points. Where do you want to start?”

That was a great question. I tapped my pen on the paper and thought about that question for a few moments. “I guess at the beginning of the list,” I sighed. “A few months ago, during a game of capture the flag at camp, I fought this boy. His name is Cel. He’s a son of Eros.”

“Ah, the children of the love gods, lovely.”

“I was gonna win, like I knew I was a better swordsman than he was. I’m the best swordsman in camp. Heck, I could even beat my friend Matt in swordplay, and he’s a son of Hades.” Thinking about Cel made me angry and sad at once. “But Cel played dirty. He blinded me and then. . . he, um-” I closed my eyes and remembered that moment. How he violated my privacy. “He - um, it’s hard to put it into words. . .”

I thought for a few moments, trying to find the words. “It was like he could see into the deepest parts of my mind, y’know? He saw everything about me. Even things I didn’t realize at that moment. And he. . . he brought down the walls I had built around myself.” Miss Naya closed her eyes and frowned. “The children of the love gods can be cruel. I’m sorry that happened to you, Lupa.”

She went quiet again and let me continue my story. “I didn’t think I could want those kinds of things. That I could want someone to. . . to hold me, y’know? It’s. . . I can’t have those things.”

Miss Naya tilted her head. “Why’s that?”

“Because. . . if I want to be a Hunter, I can’t feel those things.”

She nodded at my answer. “Have you sworn an oath to Artemis?”

I shook my head. “No. . .”

“Then you’re not obligated to shun things like romance. Let me ask you, do you think that Artemis’ Huntresses don’t feel romantic attraction?”

That was a good question. “I don’t know.”

“I guarantee some of them do. The difference is that they don’t act on those feelings. It’s one thing to feel something, it’s a whole other to act on that feeling. You haven’t made an oath, so you’re not obligated to do anything for Lady Artemis.”

Miss Naya was right, of course. It was just hard to accept that.

“I messed up. . .”

“How so?”

I heaved a sigh and laid back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. “After the game was over, I went to Cel. I was so angry at him. I. . . I punched him in the face. It wasn’t right. I shouldn’t have done it. But. . .”

“You may not know this, but we children of Hermes often share the same fatal flaw, the same hamartia. Our anger. We get it from Dad, he sometimes has a temper, too. Learning to control your anger is essential. Violence, well, it’s more often than not a poor choice. We’re blessed with our words. Our father, he passed down his way with words to us. People always say that words aren’t powerful. But wars have started and ended with words. Lives have been saved and ended with words.”

“But. . . how am I supposed to just let people get away with doing bad things? So many people have wronged me and bullied me. Hurt me. How am I supposed to just let them get away with it?”

“There are other paths to getting justice than violence. There are resources in camp, the counselors and other leaders. The camp directors, too. All of them are there to help you.”

I scoffed. “They don’t care.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because. Mr. D doesn’t even want to be there, Lady A is only there because her husband is, and Chiron? I guess he’s just too busy with training us. I don’t know. There was this other girl named Chanel, she’s a daughter of Aphrodite. She bullied me, too. I got her back, though. I pranked her. But. . . in the end, all I ended up doing was hurting myself. . . but I don’t know what I should have done. I used to be camp mediator. I’d help people. I’d talk to them, be there for them. I. . . I miss it. But, they voted me out. And now. . . I’ll never be mediator again.” It hurts to think about that day. You wanna know the worst hell you can put someone through? Social hell. Make someone lose their bonds with other people, make their friends turn against them. Make them an outcast, a pariah. The loss will devastate them. I know because it happened to me. And I did it to myself. I have no one to blame but myself.

“You made a mistake. And it sounds like you learned at least a little from that mistake. You’ve grown from that moment. It's difficult to know something, Lupa. But, in my experience, it’s often more difficult to accept something than it is to know it.”

What Miss Naya was saying made sense. I knew I was trans for a long time; it was just accepting it, that was the really hard part.

Miss Naya stood and turned to face me. She extended her hand to me. “What do you say we go for a walk?”

“To where?” I asked.

Her grin widened. “Down memory lane. Your memories, to be exact. Take me back to that moment with you and Chanel, if you want to.”

“Which one?”

“The moment you pranked her.”

I thought about it for a bit. Whether I wanted to go back to that moment. I took Miss Naya’s hand and heaved as I pulled myself up. We walked to the door, opened it, and stepped through.

To my surprise, instead of the void or my house, we ended up in camp. As the door closed behind us, it vanished. “I’ll never get over how trippy dreams can get,” I said, chuckling.

Miss Naya smirked. “Yeah, tell me about it. All these decades later and it still amazes me.”

Alkis and Chanel were at the dining pavilion, about to enjoy a seemingly romantic dinner. And nearby, waiting in the shadows, I was watching, waiting for them to spring my trap. You know that feeling when you’re sitting in bed late at night and you think about a really awful sort of memory? The ones where you mutter to yourself about how stupid you were or how you shouldn’t have done that? That was me when I was looking at my past self. And worse, I had an entire audience watching my shame. More than anything, I wanted to stop it from happening. To keep my past self from making such a stupid mistake. But, even if I tried that, it wouldn’t matter. It was just a dream. A memory.

Miss Naya and I watched as the scene unfolded. Chanel and Alkis got absolutely covered in eggs and feathers.

“Well, I have to admit, that was a well-planned prank,” Miss Naya chuckled.

The scene continued. All of us were arguing.

The dream paused.

“She must have hurt you badly for you to want to prank her like that,” Miss Naya said. “What did she do exactly?”

I closed my eyes, thinking about Chanel. Out of everyone in camp, she was probably the one I hated the most. “She bullied me about my dad. She. . . she made it seem like he doesn’t love me. Like. . . like I’m nothing to him. He lied to Zeus and Apollo, after all. And what am I to a god?” I asked, shaking my head. “I’m nothing.”

“Why include her boyfriend in the prank? It seems like you could easily have just included her.”

I looked back at Alkis, at my former friend. Knowing what comes next, it hurt. “I. . . I thought the prank would be more convincing if he showed up. I never intended for him to get caught in it, but he ended up pulling her chair for her and drenching both of them with feathers and eggs.”

“I see,” Miss Naya said. “I understand why you decided to prank her, but it seems like, as you said, it resulted in you hurting yourself more than her. And that, in the end, it didn’t accomplish what you really wanted.”

Alkis had said the same thing to me. How revenge was never worth pursuing. Hearing Miss Naya say it there as I was looking back on the past it made his point all the more poignant. Dad warned me, too. How I shouldn’t let my anger get the better of me. I balled my fists at my side. Yeah, I was angry. But there was something else, something deeper and so much more powerful than the anger; sadness. I lost a friend. I lost the trust of my peers. I lost my position as mediator. And yeah, I didn’t get what I wanted in the end. I stumbled back and sat on the bench of one of the tables in the dining pavilion.

Miss Naya shuffled over to me and sat beside me as I buried my face in my hands. “I’m so stupid,” I said through my palms. “Everyone kept telling me the same thing. . . but. . .” I looked up again at my past self. “I just. . . I wasn’t able to learn from them. I don’t get it. I don’t understand how I’m supposed to be okay with people hurting me.”

“You’re not,” Miss Naya said, offering me her hand. I took it, of course. “I don’t know exactly what they said, but I’d bet money none of them wanted to see you hurt.”

“What should I have done?” I asked her, looking at her hand.

“Anger comes easily to us. Our mistakes are our greatest teacher, Lupa. You might not know it by looking at me, but I’ve made many, many mistakes over my lifetime. I was a teenager once. I know what it feels like to be slighted. I know how hard it can feel to deal with the anger. But, whenever I’m feeling angry, I try to take a step back. I remind myself that doing something rash likely will not get me what I want. And then I think about the ways I can get what I want. If Chanel gives you problems, try talking with Chiron. Or the Aphrodite counselor. Or your counselor. I know it sucks to hand your problems over to someone else, but trust me, it’s worth it. You’ll save yourself a lot of grief and hurt. I know it might be hard to have faith in other people, but trust me, Chiron, the counselors, none of them want to see you hurting.” Miss Naya paused for a moment and I looked up at her. She was smiling again. “Have faith,” she whispered.

Faith was one of the hardest things to have. Hope, too. “I’ll try,” I managed, nodding. I wiped my eyes.

“That’s all any of us can do,” Miss Naya said, standing. “I think that’ll do for tonight’s session.”

“You’re gonna leave?” I asked, fear creeping in. I didn’t know what was going to happen when she left. If I was going to have a nightmare.

“Yes, but not before I leave you with a pleasant dream,” she waved her hand as the dreamscape seemed to shimmer and reshape itself. Things got brighter. Chanel and Alkis vanished, and in their place, all of my friends from camp were drawn into reality around me. They smiled, beaming at me. Music blared, the smell of barbeque wafted through the air. It looked like we were going to have a party. Miss Naya smiled. “Have fun, and dream well.” Then she clapped her hands and vanished.

NEXT

Juliet was a big chocolates fan. There was a lot you could do with it, such as the s’mores she had become increasingly fond of at camp, along with many flavors to try. There was the classic milk chocolate, dark chocolate, caramel, raspberry… there was a lot to love about them.

Of course, when Juliet saw a chocolate gift themed job on the board, she had to take it immediately. She didn't quite plan for now, stood in the aisle with several flavors of chocolate to choose from. Juliet was usually an overthinker. This would be no exception. She zoned out individually on each chocolate, weighing the good and bad of each. There was also the matter of these chocolates being a gift for Lady A. Giving gifts was hard. What if they didn't like it? Juliet didn't want to come off as unthoughtful. That was very not true. She was full of thoughts. She didn't want to give a gift that had nothing the person receiving it liked.

Juliet figured the solution to this was simply going for a pack with a few flavors to cover all the bases. After looking over a few of the available flavors, she grabbed what seemed like a pretty good fancy box of chocolates by her tastes. After decorating it with a bow and a neatly written note reading “For Lady A :)”, Juliet dropped the box off.

(OOC: This took place before the New Argos Battle.)

+++++

It is much easier to find the cyclops than the sphinx. As soon as she steps off the bus, all Harper has to do is follow the counting. It is no wonder that Chiron received word about the monster’s presence so quickly. He is young enough or big enough that he does not care about hiding.

He sits in the alleyway, a plastic Halloween bucket of loose change beside him, right next to a dirtied sign that reads NO LOITERING. He pulls coins from the bucket, stacking them in a palm the size of a dinner plate. "Twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five. Four thirty five. And... tax. Tax is a lot too. Ugghhh."

He stares at his bucket of coins and folds his head into his hands and groans.

"Hi." Harper interrupts.

The cyclop's head twists in her direction. With a grunt, he lumbers to his feet, broad shoulders wide enough to take up the width of the narrow alleyway. He wears frayed jeans, a Montauk t-shirt, and a giant pair of flip-flops. As he steps out of the shadow of the buildings, Harper is able to see the tear that threatens to fall out of his giant eye.

"I'm not doing anything wrong." His voice is higher than Harper expects it to be. And shakier. His lip quivers, and Harper can tell he is seconds away from sobbing.

"I know." Harper says quickly. "I can pay, if you want. The prices confuse me too."

His eye narrows, and Harper does her best to maintain her smile. She gets it. It is stupid to think that trust is something you can buy. Eventually, he grumbles a reply. "Okay."

After they leave the coffee shop, Harper follows the cyclops as he walks towards the beach, extra-large cup of hot chocolate in hand. The name “CLAY” is scrawled across the cup sleeve in giant block letters. Harper watches as Clay pulls the lid off of his cup and drains it in a single swallow.

“You are watching me.” Clay says.

“Yeah,” Harper admits. She takes a sip from her cup of green tea. “Chiron- my mentor, he always keeps track of the monsters around the city. But he just wanted to make sure you are safe.”

“He wanted to make sure that you are safe.” Clay repeats, and there is something familiar about the irritation in his voice. He crumples the cup in his hand, flattening it into a disk. “He wanted to make sure that you are safe.”

“I know.” Harper sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“I am safe. I am okay. You don’t have to watch me…” He trails off, staring at Harper like her name might be written on her forehead. “Demigod.”

“Harper.”

“Harper,” Clay corrects himself. “I am okay, Harper. You can go.”

His voice wobbles again, and Harper speaks quickly, “I was done with the job earlier. I have a question for you.”

Clay tilts his head, confused.

She continues, “I write this newspaper, and we have this column where we ask these questions. They’re kind of silly, but it’s really fun. We’re writing about cyclops this time. And if you wink or blink.” She points to one of her eyes. “Sorry. I hope it isn’t rude.”

Clay narrows his eye at her again. “Okay. What is a wink?”

Harper explains. “So it’s like closing one of your eyes. But you just have one. Which is why people argue about it. Because a lot of the time, people only wink in certain cases. Like when there’s a hidden meaning, or they’re telling a joke to a friend.”

“Like this?” Clay closes his eye, slow and exaggerated and Harper nods.

“Yes. Exactly!”

The cyclops lets out a booming laugh. “That is so weird.”

Harper laughs along, and he tells her that cyclops don’t have a lot of friends, except when they get to work together at the forge. And he’s going to head there soon, after he goes trick-or-treating for Halloween. He just goes by himself, but sometimes people come up to him and say his costume is really cool, which makes him happy. Harper listens, and she takes notes sometimes, but mostly it is nice to talk to someone who wants to be normal as badly as she does.

“Are you going to dress up?” Clay asks, walking with her back to the bus stop.

“No. I have to travel right before Halloween. I’m going to another city. “ Clay looks disappointed, and Harper adds quickly. “Maybe I’ll dress up there.”

“Yay,” Clay cheers. “When will I be in the newspaper?”

“In December. Maybe I can send you a copy.”

“Okay,” Clay says, “I hope it has lots of pictures.”

“I’ll try to make sure it does.”

They reach the bus stop, and Harper gets on the bus. When she leaves, she looks out the window. Clay waves goodbye, eye closed in a slow exaggerated blink.

Hi everybody! We haven't had an AU in a while, and I thought it might be fun to set our characters aside for a moment, and try and play as some kind of version of ourselves in CHBRP.

General Rules:

• This is just a one-shot CHBRP OC that you can play as, only in this post. If you want to keep playing as this character outside of it, you would have to go through the usual Claiming, Naming, Intro, etc.
• This is all for funsies, but please make sure you still follow all sub rules #1-9.
• Let's practice internet safety! Please do not doxx yourself, or reveal any private or identifying information such as your name, location, or photographs of yourself.
• You are definitely welcome to start threads with your character in any of the locations below. But I also encourage you to reply to others' threads and RP with each other!
• I suggest linking to your mini intro or giving some kind of TLDR to who you are in your replies, since your user flair won't be accurate to who you are playing.

To start, write a little introduction for you self-insert in the Introduction thread. It can be as brief or as detailed as you want, but I suggest including name, age, godly parent (roster here), how long "you've" been at camp, and optionally personality and power descriptions. Since this is unofficial CHBRP, picking modmail powers is fair game, but please be reasonable, and keep in mind Rule #5.

If you aren't sure what your godly parent would be, head over to the Claiming Corner! You can fill out the full, traditional questionnaire, but I've also whipped up an express quiz if you're short on time. I'll do my best to give you a godly parent based on your answers, as the mods are currently busy with the New Argos battle (though mods are always welcome to sweep in whenever). But I was a mod myself once, you know...

After you've got "yourself" introduced, drop yourself into one of the locations below and go meet some other folks. I didn't post every location, so you can also start your own location thread (choose from here), with the header, body text, and source format you see below.

As always, there is 0 pressure to have perfect characterization, writing, etc. This is just a fun way to imagine us writers in CHBRP interacting with each other! Have at it!!

Format

Name Activity | Day Activity | Day

You can only reserve up to two slots per character. If you have multiple characters, make one comment for all of them instead of one each.

There can only be one Meal per day, at any time! Any camper can host them.

Campfires happen twice a week. Campers coordinate these with the camp directors, so anyone can host them!

Open Slots happen every day and can include Lessons, QOTDs, Cabin Inspections, Cabin Meetings, Games, movie nights, social gatherings, etc. Lessons, Cabin Inspections and Meetings can only be hosted by a Camp Leader.

Counsellor Meetings are hosted once a month by a moderator and can only be joined by a Camp Leader.

Once a week, a camp-wide activity such as a party, Trip to the City, Beach Day, etc. Each week the event will be different. While they're normally hosted by the mods, a regular camper can host them.

Comment below what you'd like to host!

NOTE: Failure to meet your own slot three times in a row will lock you out of commenting on the Schedule for a month. (You can still post activities outside of the schedule, just not meals or campfires.)

Monday

Meal -

Open Slot -

Tuesday

Campfire -

Open Slot -

Wednesday

Meal -

Open Slot -

Thursday

Meal -

Open Slot - Matthew Knight

Friday

Meal -

Open Slot - Dorian Seymour

Saturday

Campfire -

Meal -

Open Slot - Sophie Bennet

Sunday

Meal -

Open Slot - Sadira Andersen

_______________________________________________

Leave your name below in the shown format to sign up for an activity!

View the rest of the month in our Character Log in the Calendar sheet.

You can reserve slots in advance!

If you are new welcome! You can check out this post to get started. If you aren't new, please answer this form to be featured on the character log and visit the Link Hub.

When New Argos was invaded admist the beginning of the second round of the games, the daughter of dreams had dubbed it one of the worst experiences in her life. And even after it all ended, she still abides by that. It had been one of the worst days of her life. One that she knew would haunt her for a long time, possibly forever. One that she would rather forget, but likely wouldn't.

Honestly, she had thought about delaying her duties because of everything that happened. Sure, she was the Mediator, her job was hearing people out and advising them. But she just couldn't do it. Not yet, at least. Her mental headspace was still a mess and she was, like many people, still recovering from the battle. Even if she tried, she knew that she would probably end up making things worse.

Still, she wanted to do something. Anything that would make people feel better. So she decided to host a campfire. If nothing else, it would at least make some people feel a bit safer and at home.

As usual, thd daughter of dreams found herself gathering all the material she would need to prepare the campfire: the wood for the fire, a few chairs, blankets and pillows, and of course, the snack table with every snack she could get her hands on: Marshmallows, chocolate, and biscuits (for people who wanted to do smores), M&Ms, cookies, chips, popcorn, etc. And for the drinks, she was able to make the ingredients for tea, hot chocolate, coffee and fruit juice available, as well as water.

With the campfire finally set up, Sadira sat by the fire, warping her a blanket around her, her gaze lost in the flames. It was as if she was looking for any kind of coziness, warmth and safety she could.

And she was.

God's, what she would give to be able to be home right now

Bailey sat in the Dioscuri cabin, a clipboard sitting in their lap, after a moment, they stand up, brushing themself off and striding out to meet the rest of the camp. It's been a fair few months since the last cabin inspection, so they felt that they should take it upon themself to make sure everything was in tip-top shape. As they strode around the cabins, they tapped their pen against the clipboard, considering their (in their opinion) fairly modest requirements for an up-to-snuff cabin.

1. Is the cabin intact? (No broken windows, holes in the roof, broken floorboards, etc.)
2. Are all the beds furnished? (Everyone has blankets, pillows, the works)
3. Is there any trash lying around?
4. Are the bathrooms clean?
5. Is there anything anyone thinks could be improved in their cabin?

General info:

Name: Amédée Xander Saenz (goes by Xander)

Godrent: Aphrodite, Goddess of Love

Age: 16, bday is February 2nd

Nationality: French-American

Sexuality and pronouns: Bi, any pronouns but sticks with he/him mostly

Conditions: ADHD, dyslexia

Appearance:

Faceclaim. He is 5'8". Xander experiments a lot with what clothing he wears, so you'll never see him wear the same outfit twice, but he generally leans more towards feminine clothing. He has quite a few ear piercings. He has longer hair for a guy, and likes to keep it in a half-up-half-down style of some sort. However, he also likes to kill said hair with bleach every once in a while, but it's normally just its natural dark brown. He has heterochromia, and in his case, one eye is brown and the other is pale green. Xander has his fair share of scars as well; he has a prominent scar on his back and neck, and claw marks on his shoulders.

Personality:

Very kind and warmhearted. Open to making new friends, but won't tolerate those who chose to be unkind to others. He's very charismatic, being a child of Aphrodite, and he's always conscious to make sure he doesn't jeopardize anyone's feelings; he likes to have as few enemies as possible. To his friends, he's just a giant teddy bear.

Xander is quite aloof, but it comes off as just procrastinating because he's a lazy perfectionist, otherwise described as, "an individual who aspires to perfection, and sets high standards but lacks the drive to take the necessary steps to attain them." Now, while often in need of a reason to do something, when Xander actually finds said motivation, he will get everything done and make sure all is set to perfection. He most definitely does not get stressed out about waiting too long to get piles of work done, and most certainly gets enough sleep(said with an unholy amount of sarcasm).

Fears:

Drowning. Xander tried learning how to swim when he was little, but then he fell into a pool and nearly drowned, so that became a lost cause. He was also shoved into a pool once at a party, nearly drowned then, too- did not help with his fear. It is a rare sight to see him anywhere near a lake or beach.

Interests/Hobbies, pets:

Xander owns a loyal, gray mare named Fleur, whom he competes with in eventing(dressage, cross country, and show jumping). Fleur is his bestie. He spends most of his time with her, just going on trail rides. When he's not doing that, he's probably writing poems under a tree, with a 99% chance that Fleur is with him. He writes a lot of poems about love, whether it be about family, friend, or romantic love. Xander tends to spend his time outside, and has lately been attempting to keep some flowers alive(he's failing miserably because he doesn't remember to water them).

Other than that, he always worries about his appearance, and makes sure he looks as good as possible(aka he's just really self-conscious), but it can sometimes be his downfall if he gets too in over his head about it. On the upside of that, he dabbles in fashion and clothing design, because with the tacky, orange CHB t-shirts everyone is given, he needs a way to stand out. He's been working on embroidery for his clothes as well, making intricate designs. Now, despite the amount of glitter and bedazzlement he uses when making clothes, his living area is spotless. He feels like it's the least he can do to be productive when he doesn't have any other motivation. In addition, his space feels cluttered and dirty if it's not sparkling from the cleanliness.

Backstory:

Xander was born in Toulouse, France, so he talks with a faint accent. His dad died when Xander was ten, and since he didn't have any other near family by, Xander moved from France to live with his grandmother on her farm out in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania. Despite hating everything around him for about a year afterward, Xander managed to look on the bright side of things and keep a smile on his face, for both himself and others. But to move beyond his lowest point in life, Xander started using his middle name rather than Amédée.

He never did that well in school. His dyslexia was so bad, he couldn't spell his own name correctly until he was almost eight, and his ADHD made it hard for him to pay any mind to most of his classes. He tried hard, and always manages to pass his classes, but it's only by a few points.

Now, oddly enough, he didn't have a lot of trouble with monsters when he was younger, as his powers weren't very strong. Plus, he was in the middle of nowhere most of the time, or in a crowded classroom of students, so it was enough to mask his scent. But as he grew older, he began noticing things following him.

Weapon:

• A Celestial Bronze dagger that can be disguised as a gold arm band(it was a gift from his mother)

Powers:

Domain: Summon Treats, Scent Manipulation, Emotional Fortitude

Minor: Appearance Manipulation, Summon Make-up, Glitter Generation

Major: Animation

Arrival to Camp:

Xander was on the ground; Fleur had bucked him off in fear when the ground started shaking, though she didn't stray far from him. Even with a helmet, it hadn't done much to protect him. His head spun as he tried to sit up. He glanced back at what his eyes thought looked like a cyclops running towards them. He needed to get his eyes checked, apparently. Or maybe being thrown off of a 16 hand horse at a gallop had something to do with his hallucinations. But it never felt like hallucinations. Monsters had been following him for years, like they were trying to hunt him. It all felt too real to be his imagination.

That's because it was real, his mind was just trying to keep him in denial.

He knew his dad wouldn't lie, he never had. The letter his dad had wrote for him had literally spelt everything out for Xander: His mom was a goddess. Not like in the way to complement or treat a woman, but like an actual, Greek goddess. Which explained his looks, but it was not ideal to be hunted by monsters because of it.

His eyes widened when his brain caught up to his vision. Then his body's adrenalin caught up with his brain and he stood up all too quickly, his vision looking like tv static for a moment. He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled as he started limping up a hill towards a sign that read Camp Half-Blood. After a few seconds, Fleur came cantering back to him, skidding to a halt at his side, clearly having gotten over her fear. Xander, with his limited consciousness and through-the-roof adrenalin, hopped into the saddle, turned Fleur around, and, while muttering an unusual amount of swears, steered them to their destination. Thankfully, the giant, one-eyed monster wasn't very fast.

Bright shades of color hit Xander's eyes, before his lack of sleep caught up to him and he started to tilt to one side. Maybe he should have slept sometime in the last week. But he couldn't sleep with these- these things following him. The paranoia and the nightmares had kept him awake. Yet this place felt safe to him. A bright light in the shape of a bird formed above him, but Xander didn’t have the energy to pay it any mind.

“This is gonna be an awful first impression…” Xander said to himself, falling lopsided off his horse, his eyelids closing against his will. Just... a few… seconds…

The season is well on its way and the twins hadn’t really gotten to their counselor duties. They had done a counselor meeting a month ago, but that was before shit went down in New Argos. The brothers weren’t in the city when the attack happened, but at camp, where everything was safe and sound. Something they were thankful for because they were way too rusty to brawl with bad guys.

Now, after the attack, they were struggling to come up with ideas for what to do. Until it hit them; they hadn’t done their seasonal cabin meeting. Normally these meetings weren’t too juicy, because let’s be honest, they didn’t always have something to discuss with Harry, but with the return of one of their half-siblings there were some things they could talk about. One thing led to another, and Austin and Jason announced the meeting at breakfast.

The brothers waited for Harry and Seth to join them in the cabin’s common room. There was a red velvet cake on the coffee table for Harry’s birthday - the twins had already given him a gift - and a ‘welcome back’-banner on the wall for Seth. Jason had almost vetoed the banner, but Austin had convinced him to still put it up. A cabin meeting wasn’t the right place to express petty teenage angst. 

‘’Hey, all.’’ Austin said once the meeting began. ‘’Another season, another cabin meeting as I always say. First of all, happy birthday to you Harry, again. And welcome back Seth. Have you two met already? This might be a good moment to do that.’’ He said as he vaguely gestured to his two siblings.

‘’A couple of topics to discuss at this meeting. First, how have you all been? We know some awful stuff happened in New Argos and were wondering how you feel about that. Maybe friends of yours got hurt and you want to talk about it. Let us know.’’ Jason said as he sat on the armrest of his chair. ‘’Second, we’re curious if we want to do something for Christmas as a cabin. Family after all you know?’’ He said, turning to his siblings for answers. 

Dorian would be the first to admit that this... activity of his was, most likely, a stupid idea and a waste of time. The entirety of New Argos, including himself and everyone from Camp Half-Blood, had gone through an invasion and fought for their lives as much as they could, and unfortunately didn't always succeed. He highly doubted that anyone would be in the mood for games. Considering what everyone has been through, he didn't blame them. He would not be forgetting what happened anytime soon.

And yet, knowing all that, the son of Clio had still decided to organise a game night. Why? Well... because it's the only thing he felt like he could do at the moment. As a Game Master, there's only so much he was allowed to do, and most of them would probably involve more battle, which he suspected people didn't want to deal with it.

The least he could do is organise a game night. If nothing else, at least people would have the option to distract themselves, he figured.

So, as day was turning to evening, Dorian took it set up tables at the Camp Half-Blood Pavilion, organising boardgames like Chess (his personal favourite), Checkers and Risk; cardgames like Magic: The Gathering, Pokemon TCG, Yu-Gi-Oh Mythomahic and the good old deck of cards for anyone who wanted to play poker or the like for some reason; and puzzles. Aa always, even though he suspected nobody was coming, he still did his best to have as many options as camp would allow him so that everyone would feel welcome to join in on the fun.

And of course, Dorian is nothing if not prepared to enforce his own rules ensure a fun as possible night: No fighting; Respect the rules of the games; Be nice to each other. Pretty simple stuff.

Hopefully, this would end up cheering people up a little bit.

Icarus just finished another book, while Atticus just woke up with an amazing nap. It was one of those naps where you woke up not knowing what time it is, or how you got here. Along with those marks on your arm and face. Teriyaki was laying on his chest, everything was great at Camp Half-Blood.

Icarus walked out of the cabin and Odin flew right behind him. Odin did flips in the air, happy to spread his wings. He flew straight towards the Reading Willow. As Icarus ran behind him.

Atticus rolled his eyes at the two nerds. He tiredly walks towards the arena. He needed to train his powers, he hasn’t done it in one week. Which isn’t normal since he got here.

Icarus notices that he hasn’t beaten Jasper to the Willow. However they are still waiting for Novella. They are the other kids in his reading group, Jasper is a son of Phobos, and Novella is a daughter of Aphrodite. After 5 minutes of awkward silence Icarus finally saw Novella running towards the Willow. Of course Jasper had his silly little grin when he saw Novella.

They all swapped books in their usual clockwise direction. This was their tradition, every two weeks they would meet up and swap, and once everyone got to read the three books they would meet up and discuss them. It may seem boring, but they loved it! Icarus would often count down the days until they got to have their swap again.

All the kids went their separate ways and Icarus started to make his way back to his cabin, clutching the book so hard his knuckles were white.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the camp as Tyler made his way toward the clearing near the beach. His arms were full—one hand clutching a bundle of firewood, the other balancing a couple of large sacks of supplies. It was a perfect evening for a bonfire, and that was exactly what Tyler intended to deliver.

He’d volunteered to help set up the camp’s first bonfire night of the season. There was always something about the idea of gathering around a roaring fire with the whole camp that made it feel like home, even more than usual. The stars would be out tonight, the night would be warm, and for once, there would be a break from training and quests. Just a chance to kick back, relax, and enjoy the camaraderie of his fellow campers.

Tyler had been planning this for a while. He’d gathered a bunch of wood from the nearby forest, making sure there was plenty for a long burn. Now he was setting up a ring of stones around the clearing to create a safe boundary for the fire. His fingers worked quickly, carefully placing each stone into place. He’d done this many times before, and though it wasn’t the most glamorous job, he took pride in it. A good bonfire was all about the details.

Once the stones were set, he unpacked the sacks, spreading blankets and pillows out on the ground. Some of the campers would probably bring their own snacks, but Tyler made sure there was a stack of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars ready for s'mores. He even managed to sneak in a few bottles of soda, a luxury at camp.

He stood back for a moment, admiring the setup. The fire pit was centered just right, the stones forming a solid circle, and the snacks were spread out enticingly. All that was left was the fire itself.

Tyler turned and began gathering the kindling. He thought for a moment, then smirked to himself. He could easily use his powers to start the fire, but this time, he decided to go old-school. He grabbed a flint and steel from his pack, striking it against the stone to create a spark. The first few tries were failures, but Tyler wasn’t discouraged. He had patience—this was about more than just getting the job done. It was about the experience, about showing the campers that there was more to life than fighting monsters.

Finally, a small spark caught. He blew gently on it until it turned into a steady flame, and soon enough, the fire was roaring to life in the pit, casting a warm glow over the clearing.

“Perfect,” he muttered to himself, stepping back. He could already hear the excited voices of the other campers gathering nearby.

As the first few campers wandered over, Tyler threw a casual salute their way. “Bonfire’s ready! Grab some s'mores before the fire dies down.”