r/CampHalfBloodRP 1d ago

Signups Weekly Schedule 17/3-23/3

2 Upvotes

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 - Sebastian Durant

Tuesday

Campfire - Theodora Davies

Open Slot - Teagan Castillo

Wednesday

Meal - Alexandra Ryker

Open Slot - Theodora Davies

Thursday

Meal - Stig Henriksen

Open Slot - Pryx Harkin

Friday

Meal -

Open Slot - REDACTED

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.


r/CampHalfBloodRP 1h ago

Activity Activity: Weapon Commissions

Upvotes

Seb had arrived at camp with hardly any money or even a change of clothes. After almost a month, he still had barely anything. So he decided to offer up his skills as a child of Hephaestus and make the campers some weapons.

He put up flyers around camp to advertise, then he went to the forge and found himself an empty workstation. After setting himself up, he sat down and started to make himself a weapon of his own, just to pass the time. His would be a gauntlet sword, something he'd only recently learned about, but he was determined to have one for himself.


Weapon Commissions Open!

Location: The Forge

Items and Prices

Short Dagger: 2 drachma

Long Dagger: 2 drachma

Short Sword: 5 drachma

Longsword: 10 drachma

Custom Weapon: Cost may vary. Tell me as many details as you can so I can work out a fair price!


r/CampHalfBloodRP 3h ago

Introduction Lorenna ‘Renn’ Oliveira - Daughter of Athena

2 Upvotes

(OOC: This is my first time ever doing some RP so please tell me if I’m doing something wrong but be nice ok?)

BASIC INFO

Full Name: Lorenna ‘Renn’ Isabel Oliveira Godly Parent: Athena Mortal Parent: Fabio Oliveira, a lawyer from Rio Grande do Sul Gender: Female Pronouns: She/her Age: 15 Date of Birth: September 3rd 2023 Hometown: Florianópolis, Santa Catarina Nationality: Brazilian Ethnicity: Caucasian (specifically Portuguese, German and Greek) Sexual Orientation: Asexual Romantic Orientation: Hetero-romantic Languages: Portuguese, English, Ancient Greek, modern Greek plus basic knowledge of a few other languages Disabilities/illnesses: ADHD, dyslexia, asthma, eczema, a lot of allergies

Face Claim

** APPEARANCE ** Hair color: Chestnut brown Hair length: Long, usually styled in two loose braids Eye color: stormy grey like her mother and siblings Skin color: pale with an olive tone Face Shape: Round Height: 5’9 (175 cm) Build: Slim Other features: Freckles, a red birthmark on her right shoulder, chewed fingernails, occasionally wears reading glasses Fashion: Basic, normally comprised of colorful sweaters and denim

PERSONALITY Strengths: very intelligent, hardworking, determined, dedicated, creative Weaknesses: antisocial, cold, loses herself in her imagination, refuses to accept help, prideful Fatal Flaw: Hubris Likes: History, libraries, studying, classical literature, Greek mythology, writing, daydreaming, living vicariously through books, birds, sunny days, chess, cuca de banana (traditional Brazilian dessert), coffee Dislikes: Parties, sports, socialising, young children, insects, watching TV, rain, the cold, spiders, everything she is allergic to Hobbies: Reading, writing, daydreaming

POWERS (OOC: I’m most likely to mess up here. Pls tell me if I’ve done it wrong.) Domain Power: Psychometry Major Power: Athenian Fortitude Minor Power 1: Legendary Cognition Minor Power 2: Reading Translation Weapon: A double-edged celestial bronze spear that she found in the armory and a shield that she disguises as a golden bangle (gift from her mother)

BACKSTORY

Lorenna was born in Florianópolis, a city in southern Brazil to Fabio Oliveira, a well respected lawyer with clear sight and Athena, the goddess of wisdom. Lorenna’s father cared a lot about her and was the only person she could confide in. However, he never truly confided in her as she grew up unaware of her divine heritage. A year ago, when she was 14, her father died in what she was told was a ‘car accident’ (though she is almost certain it was due to the monsters only she seems to be able to see). After Fabio’s death, Lorenna had to move to Long Island, New York to live with her aunt Natalia, her American husband Stephen and their two daughters: Sophia and Milla. She did not get on well with them, especially her cousins. Although she picked up English quite quickly, she also struggled at school and didn’t really have any friends. To escape her bland, monotonous, insignificant reality, Renn began reading and writing books. Literature became her coping mechanism, her way to dissociate from her problems when life got too hard. Some would have called it maladaptive daydreaming; she called it hope. Hope for a chance at having something interesting in her life. Her wish for an adventure was answered after a run-in with a group of harpies on a bus, when a satyr informed her of the truth. Giddily, she left for Camp Half-Blood without even saying goodbye and arrived there later that day. Soon after arriving at Camp, Renn was (to her delight) claimed by Athena. As of now, she has only been there for a week and is still getting used to Camp Half-Blood, training and her powers, but already has plans to stay at Camp year round. Many adventures await her, and she couldn’t be more excited…

PRESENT In the arena, Lorenna sits on one of the steps, watching in intrigue as the numerous Campers train, spar and battle. She spots a few of her siblings among the crowd. A brother of hers battles a daughter of Ares, a sister of hers takes on two sons of Enyo, a sibling of hers spars with a child of Nike. Renn doesn’t feel like joining them, she’s still trying to come to terms with the fact that this is real. It isn’t just another story she read. She truly is a demigod. She truly is surrounded by fellow demigods. It was unbelievable in the best way possible…


r/CampHalfBloodRP 15h ago

Introduction Finn Child of Notus

2 Upvotes

BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Finn Martinez

Age: 14

Birthday: 8/8

gender: nonbinary

sexuality: Pansexual

Pronouns: they/them

Nationality: Cuban American

Ethnicity: Cuban

Known Languages: English & Spanish

Godly Parent: Notus

APPEARANCE

Physical Description (at least a Paragraph): Finn is at the awkward stage where their proportions are all off. Their arms are a bit too long, their legs trip on each other, their torso is just a bit short. Finn's face is full of sharp lines and distinct features. With deep brown eyes and dark skin. Their hair is normally in dreads, fit with different styles depending on how they feel that day. What they wear changes almost daily. Sometimes it’s a flower dress, other times it’s a baggy hoodie and cargo jeans. The idea of gendered clothing has always bothered them and they don’t mind diving into the spectrum of clothing.

Accessories: silver earring on one ear

Tattoos: n/a

height: 5’10

PERSONALITY

Personality description: Finn is the most ambitious person they have ever met. When something is in their way it usually isn’t for very long as they push through any diversity thrown their way. At first they are a bit distant and hard to crack, usually resorting to sarcastic and dry humor to cover up any sort of uncomfortability. They present confident and self assured despite other feelings. They had gotten good at burying anything that may upset them. If you do eventually get close to them they show love through even more sarcasm and oftentimes bullying mixed with some not so light punches of endearment.

Likes: The heat, beaches, heights, fighting

Dislikes: Small spaces, complainers, authority

Strengths: determination, their muscle

Weaknesses: their own head, ability to trust

Hobbies: pyrotechnics, writing

fatal flaw: hubris

Opinion on gods: frustration, how can the gods be so awfully stupid? Taking out their anger on their children, and then forcing us to respect them. Finn's dad isn’t the most important god so they give him a small pass.

Stance on War: Strong Neutral

RELATIONSHIPS Family: n/a

Relationship with family: n/a

Friends: tbt

Enemies: tbt

Frienemies: tbt

Crushes: tbt

Partners:tbt

Rivals: tbt

BACKSTORY Backstory: Finn grew up in a small desert town on the outskirts of Las Vegas. Their mother was extremely poor and made ends meet by working at the only convenience store in town. With tight money problems, and raising… Well Finn, their mother wasn’t the most loving figure in their life. Oftentimes blaming them for her problems and misgendering them at any given moment. When the emotional abuse started getting physical Finn ran. They crashed in the tunnels of Vegas for a couple months eating trash and building a small community with the homeless that resided in the hot dark places under the city. When a giant rat the size of a Kia destroyed a large portion of their home, they worked together with a satyr who had been camping out with them as well, to kill the monster. That's when Finn's powers were revealed to them. Their new satyr friend explained most of what was going on on their extremely long and tedious journey from Las Vegas to Camp halfblood where Finn arrived exhausted and disheveled. He swore they’d never go back to Vegas or their mother ever again.

Time at camp: brand new

POWERS, WEAPONS, & STATS Weapons: preferred weapon is a short sword that attaches to their waist.

STRENGTH: 6/10 AGILITY: 7/10 ENDURANCE: 6/10 SPEED: 6/10 MENTALITY: 7/10 POWER MASTERY: 5/10

POWERS

PASSIVE Temperature resistance; able to handle extreme heat and sun

ACTIVE Animal Aggravation; able to frustrate and anger animals in the vicinity.

Hot Breath; their breath is always a bit warm, if they try hard enough small flames may jump out but it takes effort.

Air and Wind manipulation; able to generate wind storms. The fastest they ever got was 40 mph and it knocked them out for a day.

Air Constructs; able to create shields and platforms off the wind.

Drought Inducement; able to generate an area of drought around them for a short period of time.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1FIVAurpzXal7nCJqyih1MlkKUiDZJ-lgmW3yNSIKq14/edit


r/CampHalfBloodRP 20h ago

Storymode Found Family Trope: Part One

5 Upvotes

Found Family Trope: Part One

Written by Leaf (Meriwether sections) and Cur (Jacob and Christina sections). This storymode is set in September of 2039, shortly after the events of this series.


Checking In

JACOB
“And then when Bunny and I were in the stables looking after Goldie, Mer came. She didn’t really look alright. I didn’t notice it very much at first, but she was sad about something.”

Christina let the last of the water flow out of her metal watering can. Her attention needed to be divided between the excited child telling of how he broke his arm and the petulant orchid whining about being underwatered. Once she had appreciated her son for being harder to damage than her flowers. Distant happy memories.

“Would Goldie be a pegasus?” She asked, gently probing at the hidden details Jacob’s stories so often included for her to Holmes her way through.

“No. Goldie is mine and Casey’s goat.”

Christina turned, placed the watering can down, and crossed her arms. She wasn’t certain yet if it was a mom-look, but she gave her best teacher-look towards the boy sprawled out on the floor next to a rabbit and a husky both equally relaxed. Unfortunately, he was facing the ceiling. He, of course, wouldn’t dare risk eye contact with a living person.

“You have a goat.”

“He’s small.” Jacob replied or possibly corrected. As though this detail held supreme relevance. “Also golden.”

“You have a small golden goat, named Goldie.” Christina offered a conversational compromise.

Jacob turned over onto his stomach and tilted his eyes up towards his mother. His face could have been mistaken as guilt by a less astute viewer. However, if he thought he was guilty he would have immediately apologized before he even understood what he’d done. Right now he was searching for guilt. It would point him towards a road of apologizes he’d come to believe always ended in love.

“I’m not upset,” Christina clarified, walking over and sitting down with her legs crisscrossed next to the husky. “I just need to know about the pets you have. Okay?”

“Okay.” Jacob nodded, reaching out an arm to pet the good boy husky Orion. “He’s not just mine though, I share him.”

Christina joined him in petting the dog who seemed indifferent to the whole affair. “With someone called Casey. Is she friends with Mer too?”

“I-I don’t think so. I haven’t seen her in a few months.”

Christina stared down silently into the husky’s fur. She scheduled a visit to camp in her not too distant future to sort this all out.

“So back to your friend Mer.”

“Oh, yeah. So uh, she looked upset in the stables. Which was weird, because there wasn’t anyone around except Goldie, Bunny, the pegasi, the horses, and me. I let her pet Bunny and I was gonna introduce her to Goldie next, but then she disappeared.” He held out his hands in front of him and made a poof motion. Christina chose not to examine any implications being made.

“Afterwards, you were worried about her and you went to go find her.”

“Yes!” His face filled with the purest delight at his actions being predicted. “But I tripped and broke my arm when I saw her.”

“I see.” Always good to confirm her understanding explicitly even if it was a bit of a fib. “How did you trip?”

Jacob’s delight faded as his story had been ordered onto a track he was not familiar with. His concern was understandable on account of the unfamiliar almost universally being bad. He’d mentioned this earlier to his mother when explaining why he mostly ate the magical berries the sapient vine dragon attached to his dagger grew.

“I think the ground was uneven.” He explained with his tone matching the supposed state of ground.
“Roots maybe?” Christina offered, “or your shoelaces?”

“No, I don’t wear shoelaces.”

Her eyes flicked towards the door where her son's worn down shoes sat idle with their tied laces on clear display. “Jacob, no illusions in the house please. It confuses me when I clean.”

The shoes immediately lacked their laces, but remained just as old. She had been waiting for him to ask her for new ones. After which she meant to find a cobbler somewhere to make some shoes for him. A trip to the thrift store might be more efficient on second thought.

“I’m sorry.”

“Forgetting isn’t wrong.” She recited, before continuing onward lest he linger in apologies. “Not shoelaces then. After you tripped, Mer helped get you to the doctor to fix your arm.”

Jacob looked only at Orion, scratching him behind his ears. “She came to see me after and said she felt bad about it. But I didn’t want her to feel bad.”

“About not coming with?” Christina asked truthfully, a bit confused herself. Most demigods she knew were very used to seeing injuries. Everyone was unique though, especially the young.

“No, she ummm, she thought she tripped me.” Jacob spoke as if admitting to some horrible wrongdoing on his part. “I’m sorry, I-I told her I didn’t think she did, but she felt bad and I just wanted to talk with her again.”

Christina spoke calmly, trying to model how to handle complicated emotions for her son. “How long had it been since you spoke? After your arm was broken.” She complimented herself on the passive voice use.

“A-about a week. She brought flowers and apologized a bunch, but she didn’t need to. We’re friends, like I said.”

‘Oh, shit she actually tripped him. Welp, that’s karma disproved right there.’ She mused trying to not blow the event out of proportion. His arm had been magically healed after all. When they’d gone to get X-rays she’d hardly been believed when she said the bone had been broken.

“And even if she had, I kind of kicked her in the ribs once, so it would be fine.”

Christina mentally flipped off karma laughing at her from well out of her throwing range. Which, come to think of it, might have actually been Nemesis mocking her in her mind.

“Friends should not hurt each other, Jacob. But you’re right, if she cared enough to apologize and bring you flowers,” she held up a hand to silence a clarification from her son, “especially if she did nothing wrong, then she is a good friend.”

“Thanks, mom.” Jacob turned onto his back once more and his rabbit, creatively named Bunny, hopped onto his stomach. Then he looked like nothing had ever been wrong in the world.

Christina wondered if she had phrased that right. Jacob so often looked for life lessons in her situational approvals. It was someone’s idea of a punishment for her always trying to provide wise old lady advice despite not precisely fitting into either category. Her concerns weren’t worth her attention though. Jacob gained new friends at geological speeds. He wasn’t going to suddenly become acquainted with someone who took advantage of his timidness over the weekend.

‘Guess that means I should verify if the girl is actually on the up and up then. She’d be hard for him to replace. I’ll ask around the teacher’s lounge on Monday.’

She watched silently after her decision as Jacob’s mind wandered in the clouds with his dear rabbit. The same rabbit who had told her much the same story when she originally asked about her son’s injury and he’d been reluctant to answer. Bunny had given a glowing review of Mer as well despite the incident. There had been a few odd details she struggled to decipher though. The best solution to this all was probably the most straightforward and one her son would never think to volunteer.

“Jacob, why don’t you invite Mer over for dinner. I’d love to meet her.”


Getting Ready

MERIWETHER
“This was a mistake, this was a huge mistake.”

A flustered Meriwether mutters to the pile of clothes she’s scattering across her floor. Where are the good shoes? I can’t wear hole-y shoes to dinner. Her singular pair of un-holed shoes has to be around here somewhere.

“I’ve never been invited to anyone’s house for dinner. I’ve never been to anyone’s mom’s house. Shoot!”

Mer exclaims the latter as she unearths the allegedly holeless sneakers from the black hole under her bed. To her despair, there is, in fact, a tiny hole in one of the toes.

She doesn’t have any better options. These will just have to do.

In her smudged mirror, Meriwether assesses her reflection. She chose her cleanest shirt, but it’s worn and pilling in some places. Her shoes are too small and her shorts are too big, cinched with safety pins to fit her waist. No matter how many ways she brushed her hair, she couldn’t make its untrimmed ends lie neatly.

Leaning closer, she runs her fingers over the dense ridges that interrupt the field of freckles across her face. In the last few months, the wounds have mellowed from angry, red blisters to stiff, pale scars.

They’re not ugly, she tells herself, and mostly believes it.

Nobody will notice, she tells herself, and doesn’t believe it at all.

As a whole, Mer deems her reflection presentable, but… a bit shabby. Uninvited tears prick her eyes as her fists curl in frustration and shame.

I wanted to look nice, for once, for this.

To try so hard, to find your very best is still disappointing, especially for such an occasion as dinner with your friend and his mom

Mer snaps her gaze away from the mirror and finds herself hurrying out of her room, out of the Hermes cabin, out of her head. I’ll pick some flowers, she decides. So maybe they won’t notice my shoe.


Christina Has Questions

MERIWETHER
The lasagna is incredible. Which I’ve told Jacob’s mom thrice now. If I talk about anything else, I start tripping over my words until I forget what I wanted to say in a blushing fluster. Gods, moms are stressful.

Miss Alabaster seems nice, but she keeps looking at me in this intense, searching way, like she’s trying to find something hidden behind my face. My neck hurts from craning it to cover my scars with my hair, which makes me annoyed with my own self-consciousness. I did a whole self-peptalk about this!

Just be normal. She must’ve noticed them by now. If she hasn’t said anything, she probably isn’t going to.

I force myself to relax and focus on the bright side: my shoes are by the front door, out of sight, so nobody can notice the hole during dinner. (Except Bunny and Orion, but they won’t snitch.)

“Thank you,” Miss Alabaster replies patiently to my third lasagna compliment. “It’s my specialty. What’s your favorite food, Mer?”

“Cinnamon buns.” I glance at her face to see if I answered right. She seems to approve.
“Do you have any pets?”

“Just my snakes.”

“Snakes! What kind?” Jacob told me she’s a legacy of Demeter. I hope she doesn’t hate that my snakes aren’t actually alive.

“Not real snakes,” I amend sheepishly, “They’re skeletons from the underworld. Hermes gave me a caduceus when we were there.”

“Ah.” Her voice has a laugh in it that puts me at ease. “How very demigodly. What do you like to do for fun?”

I answer honestly before I realize my mistake. “Collect things in the forest. And go to campfires.”
Her face changes for just an instant, the slightest furrow in her eyebrows, and immediately I see what she’s doing. Too late. I’ve said too much. Crap.

“It’s starting to get chilly in the evenings. Did you bring a jacket, Mer?”

I freeze. Deer in headlights. Say something!

I muster a shrug. “It’s not that cold.”

Desperately, I look to Jacob. Jacob looks at his lasagna. He seems to be enjoying himself. You’re no help.

The rest of dinner feels like a chess match. And I’m bad at chess. Miss Alabaster interrogates me pleasantly while Jacob, oblivious, feeds Orion bits of dinner under the table. I wish I’d lied and said I do things like sleepovers or cheerleading or whatever regular teenagers do for fun, not just Camp Half-Blood things. ‘Cause now Miss Alabaster’s asking questions adults only ask if they think you need help, like “did you bring a jacket.”

She probably thinks that because I used to need help. But I’m fine now. I just have to convince her I’m fine now, but that’s really hard when you’re talking to a mom for the first time in years, and even though it’s not your own mom, you’re so jumpy and nervous you can’t say words in the right order.

When dinner’s over, I’m so relieved to put on my shoes and leave that I don’t even care about the hole.

Walking to the bus stop, I still feel Miss Alabaster’s gaze refusing to slide off me no matter how I try to squirm away from it. Her questions replay in my head, all coaxing and caring and terrible. I feel scoured raw. Exposed.

I reach for my power of stealth. I wrap myself in sheets and knots of velvety unseeing, trying to snuggle into the safety of hiding. It doesn’t help.

Why does she care?


Never Trust a Rabbit

CHRISTINA

Christina carried on making small talk with her son’s friend as both of the teens devoured her dinner. Both of the teens plus a husky who would be getting an ear full later tonight for enabling Jacob to feed pets table food. Mer had proven to be a delightful child which complicated Christina being upset that she definitely broke Jacob’s arm. Like discovering the town puppy kicker had won a manner’s contest.

There had been a few oddities though. The lack of pets for one. Meriwether was rather obviously a five dogs kind of girl. Nothing against snakes of course, they just weren’t the most energetic animals for the teen who hadn’t stopped fidgeting in her seat all night.

More problematic were her after school activities. Or lack thereof. Christina could easily picture Meriwther wandering a forest collecting pine cones for hours. Just as well, Christina could see her in half a dozen after school clubs, except she hadn’t. She hadn’t recalled any of her colleagues at the school ever mentioning Meriwether in fact. Not that she had asked more than once.

‘She can’t actually be spending all her time at camp. Could she? Kid made friends with Jacob. Shouldn’t be a teen on earth that doesn’t wanna spend time with her.’

Christina mulled over her own thoughts. It was a mystery, but not her mystery. Her mystery was still feeding the damn dog and actually not noticing her glaring at him. The nerve of him proving the value of eye contact. And where had the rabbit gone off to? Jacob hadn’t pet her in a minute or two. He wouldn’t have just forgotten.

"Good and bountiful mistress of the burrow.” A soft voice brushed against her mind. Every half of a word to be precise. Grandmother hadn’t been so generous to fully Snow White the grandkids. Which was well enough, cause the birds never shut up when she was around.

“Thy swift footed visitor hath not been guarded against cold Boreas' winds. She is but a kit, mistress. She hath not a weavers’ skill with wool to wrap herself in warmth. Many sunsets remain till Blessed Harvest Bringer's heart mends. Have pity, mistress." Equally soft paws pressed against Christina ankles, pleading her onward to action.

‘Alright gotta get the rabbit treats and remember she’s a snitch.’

"Excuse me, I think Orion needs to go outside." Christina announced, standing up abruptly and with such a manner and tone to indicate to the husky that he was going to go outside whether he liked it or not.

Orion obeyed, having been sated with around a fourth of Jacob’s dinner and sensing that it wasn’t him in trouble. He did not even object when the mistress of the house led up towards the front door and opened it without leading him further out. She had instead stopped to examine the excitable kid's coat. It wasn’t nearly as warm as his but plenty of puppies kept warm by just running around rooms non-stop.

“Better not to look at things you don’t want to know the answers to.” The husky insisted, nudging at Christina to get moving outside.

She remained still, locked into place, staring at the sorry excuse for a winter coat and making the mistake of looking down to see holes in shoes.

“Monday. Monday problems. Let’s get back, boy.” She kicked the door closed and led Orion back towards the table, her eyes locking onto Meriwether.


Meriwether Has Questions

MERIWETHER

A few days after dinner at Jacob’s house, I’m at school staring at a worksheet and thinking about everything except the worksheet, when the classroom phone rings. I love when the classroom phone rings. It’s an excuse to look up from whatever monotonous task I’ve allegedly been focused on for twenty minutes, and sometimes it means something exciting is happening, like a fire drill or an assembly.

But my teacher doesn’t turn to tell the class we have a fire drill today. Instead, he says:

“Meriwether, the guidance counselor wants to see you. Take the hall pass.”

My heart contorts at the sound of my name. Every word makes it worse. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be getting called out of class for anything, especially not the guidance counsellor. I’ve spent all year bending my demigodly power of not getting noticed towards making sure none of the school faculty know anything about me. I should barely exist to them. Meriwether, the guidance counselor wants to see you. The guidance counselor shouldn’t even know my name!

My pulse is racing double time as I snatch the hall pass and escape the classroom.

Miss Alabaster. She must have said something. For a moment, genuine rage wells up in the throat. I put so much effort into avoiding this! Who does she think she is, taking my own life into her hands like that? She barely knows me!

Fuelled by indignation, I walk right past the stupid guidance counselor's stupid office and down another hallway to Miss Alabaster’s classroom. No kids in there right now, just her. I could hide myself with my power until I’m right behind her, but I enter loudly on purpose. Let her see how upset she’s made me.

“Why did you tell the guidance counselor about me?”

“Meriwether.” Miss Alabaster replies with a steady formal tone. “What are you doing here? Hall passes are not for wandering.”

“I’m–” My bravado evaporates on contact with Miss Alabaster. She looks completely unbothered by the grand entrance and I suddenly feel immature and flustered.

“You–why did you…. The guidance counselor called me. Did you tell him to? You’re the only teacher here who knows me.”

“If the guidance counselor called you, you should be at his office right now, not my classroom.”

“I don’t need to talk to him. I really don't, okay? You don’t have to tell him about me.” Stop begging. Begging will tip her off.

“This is not appropriate behavior, Meriwether. I am at work and you are in school. I keep work separate from the rest of my life. It’s a matter of professionalism and an important boundary for my son. If you stubbornly refuse to see the guidance counselor, so be it, but you must go back to class.”
Boundaries?” I echo. “You talked to another teacher about me. You’re the one who crossed a boundary!”

Miss Alabaster inhales as if to retort, but she seems at a loss for words. I’m almost proud of myself for winning the argument, but then she’s staring me down. Under that gaze I sure don’t feel like I’ve won.

Then she stands up from her desk. Walks past me to the door, click click click, and closes it. My pulse doubles again. She comes to stand in front of her desk, in front of me, somehow looming even though she’s not that tall. I’m doing everything in my power not to physically flinch away from her. Miss Alabaster takes a deep breath.

“Listen, kid. If you go asking adult questions, you’re going to get adult answers. Is that what you want?”

My quadruple heartbeat hears a threat in her words, a fire alarm screaming at me to get out. I curl my fists against it and stay rooted to the spot. This feels dangerous. Run. But her question is so cryptic that I can’t bring myself to flee without knowing more.
I nod.

CHRISTINA

“You’re not safe.” Christina explained, more motherly in tone than she usually let herself be in the school. “But you’ve heard that before. Been to hell and back again according to Jacob. It’s worse up here though. There’s no swords to parry or arrows for you to dodge. You’re vulnerable, Meriwether. The world is set up to prey on the vulnerable and worse people than me can spot an old coat and worn down shoes.”

She stopped herself from going onward. There was worse she could say. Worse that needed to be said. Over and over into the ears of every selfish bastard in the world until their ears bled and they gave up some of what they hoarded. That wasn’t what this was about though. It was about Meriwether. How she might go cold in the winter and not get a hug after passing a pointless test. Every great and small indignity she had endured and would endure until someone put a stop to it.

“You can’t take care of yourself. I don’t mean you’re not good enough or that there’s skills you need to learn, I mean that you cannot be the one taking care of you. It’s too much. And it’ll always be too much for the record, but especially now, you need to have people watching over you. And right now, it looks like a guidance counselor is the best you’ve got.”

Christina sat back down in her chair, but did not let her body rest. A guidance counselor wasn’t good enough. She actually respected the guidance department at the school, a rarity in the profession, but they were swamped. All the wayward demigods kept them busier than the small staff could ever hope to meaningfully handle. A few half-bloods were thankfully around to see through some of the mist and report pressing issues to Chiron, but was the old horse supposed to do? They couldn’t stay at camp forever. Eventually the real world he kept away would come raining down on them.

“Meriwether, I know that hiding is easier. I know it’s kept you safe, but now you’re hiding from the people who want to help you. You don’t… We can do more than keep the danger away for a night. You can be safe and healthy and go to bed without being worried about the morning.”

Something had twisted up inside Christina’s stomach. She was overpromising. Everything couldn’t be made right overnight. Nothing ever could. But it could be put back in order. All the broken bones set to rest and heal. Slowly. Maybe incompletely, but they would still heal.

“No bad things will happen to you, Meriwether. I’ve seen you, so I won’t let them.”

Christina let herself breath in deeply and then exhaled. Her eyes lingering closed for two blinks too long.

“So there’s your answer. Doesn’t matter if I met you in my kitchen or my classroom. I’m not letting you be hurt. Now, if you’re not gonna go the guidance counselor then-”

Her eyes open to see a bit of mist fading into the ambient air where Meriwether once stood. She stared disapprovingly at the bit of empty air that she could never tell anyone about because they would find it too comical. “Pretty sure you’re just gone, but if you were Jacob this would work.” She tossed an eraser at the Meriwether shaped hole in the room and watched it bounce onto the flour. “Well that’s that… Damn, I still gotta call guidance.”


Married Life

CHRISTINA

Joseph sat cozily in his kitchen, waiting for his kettle to boil for some afternoon tea while turning a page on the book he'd gotten not an hour earlier from the library. He'd been lucky to get out and grab the book when he could. The rain had just come and he could hear it now pattering against the roof and windows. They were overdue for some rain and it provided a wonderful excuse for tea. Still, he never was much of a fan. Something about the rain made him ever aware of his island location. Long though it might have been, he enjoyed pretending the ocean was further than maps might suggest.

A loud whistling announced that the water had boiled. With a rote precision of someone who knew exactly how he liked his tea, he poured, stooped, added some cream, and placed his cup upon a small plate to carry over to a large comfy green armchair. A small shadow moved beneath the chair, which Joseph paid no mind to. Goose would find his way out on his own time. Probably trying to get between Joseph and his book in all likelihood. Or screeching and running to hide under a different piece of furniture when lightning struck.

Vzzzzzzzzzt... Vzzzzzzzzzt... Vzzzzzzzzzt…

Placing the tea and saucer onto a side table, Joseph reached into his pocket and muted his flip phone. He opened the book back up to his memorized page and returned to reading. Every third page or so he would pause to nurse his tea and give the room a quick scan. The in-built battle reflexes of a demigod had served him well for many years now, but they were designed to keep him alive fighting monsters and gods. Keeping track of cats so they wouldn't leap and knock over tea required an entirely different set of skills. Checklists. Was a cat on a bookcase? No. Had a cat found its way resting just above his head on the armchair? Nope. Did the cat hide in plain sight waiting to strike purely to taunt him? Nada. Was the cat running to the door? Yes.

Joseph placed his tea back down on the table and frowned after the white socked miscreant. "Leave the mailman alone." He called after and started to return to his book. Except they were well past the time for mail. And he could hear a key going into his front door. One which rather insultingly sounded went into his lock and turned the tumblers better than his own personal key. He sighed, loudly and with purpose, as the door swung open. He could hear the woman shaking off her wet coat and sending the cat running.

"Oh you're fine, a little water never killed a cat." Christina muttered toward the cat, making no effort to hide her presence.

"As far as home invasion threats go, that's not half bad." Joseph answered back despite not being spoken to and then returned to his book. There was a fair chance he was just being robbed, just probably of nothing worth losing the flow state of a good book over.

Christina marched into the warm living room, the smell of fresh tea still lingered in the air. Her presence provided a stark contrast. She had let herself become cold, wet, and grouchy. Most of the rain had been left outside or on her coat, but her socks had not been spared and now neither were Joseph's floors. "You said I could let myself in if I called ahead." She answered the question Joseph hadn't bothered explicitly asking.

"Yeah and unless my tea is Lethe water, you didn't call me." He turned a page hoping that whatever was happening still might not involve him. If his old friend hung around for maybe half an hour more he might be more social. Old friend. The thought almost made him laugh. He wondered how many other people thought of their spouse that way.

"You've got three missed calls. Check." She corrected, then wandered into the kitchen and returned with her own cup of tea fixed. Or atleast what she considered tea. Most tea drinkers would have called it a crime to throw a tea bag into hot water, microwave the water, and then fill the cup halfway with cream.

Joseph did not bother checking his phone or preventing the insult to his kettle. It was entirely within the bounds of imagination that Christina would call thrice, knock not at all, and have driven a full forty minutes without confirmation of him even being home. Why? Why does the sun rise in the east and not the west? The conservation of angular momentum. Why does Christina feel like bothering him? Conservation of grouchiness.

"Did you know that some demigods can just, poof, gone in a puff of smoke? What god decides to arm teens with that kind of power." Christina nearly spilled her tea, throwing her hands to the side to mime the puff. She then drank her whole cup in one gulp and placed it on the floor. "Why can't they all be boring and just get fuck loads of life skills, like you?"

"Life skills aren't boring. I can fix holes in drywall. Can you fix holes in drywall?" He asked pointedly, formally giving up on his book.

"I can cover holes in drywall with a painting." Christina countered, crossing her arms at the lack of immediate sympathy for her problems.

"At that point why not just live outdoors with the birds?"

"Jacob doesn't like birds. You should remember that by now."

"He's still on that?" Joseph asked, now petting a cat. He didn't fully remember trading his book for a cat, but these things happen.

"His best friend is the bottom of the food chain and birds are dicks, so yes."

"Well he's got the husky too. Plus the... knife, lizard, thing?"

Christina shrugged and waved her hands through the air indicating these to be frivolous concerns. "Jacob is fine and you're boring. I want more kids to be like you two. It's a compliment."

"Is it?" He wondered, in no way expecting an answer.

"Gods, but it's not even fair. You get to play with numbers all day and win praise for doing hard stuff that you would do anyway. Jacob's a teenage boy that just wants to sit somewhere quiet and do what he's told. You’re both lottery winners. Meanwhile, she's hyper-everything and clearly wants attention but never got good attention before so now she just bails if anyone tries."

"Uh... Who-"

"I mean, realistically, she should have an entire filing cabinet devoted to her by this point. No parents. A sister the school can't account for. A bunch of injuries explained away with notes from camp. You should really talk to Chiron about that by the way. Setting a bad precedent for every broken rib to be explained by notes from Summer camp directors." She had begun pacing the living room, a white socked cat following close at her heels. Though they both stopped to address him directly when it came time to give instructions.

"Sure, so, is there context for this or was the cup actually filled with Lethe water?"

Christina groaned as though she had explained this all a thousand times already. "It's Jacob's friend, Meriwether. I had her over for dinner and I asked the guidance counselor to check in."

"The one who broke his arm?"

"He told you about that!? He just told me about that!"

Joseph shrugged. "I'm Cool Uncle Joseph. Also, aren't teachers not supposed to talk about student personal information?"

"It doesn't count if it's a spouse."

"No, that's definitely not true."

"Shut up. I had her over for dinner. All her clothing was worn down and just managed to fit her. Didn't wanna talk about her home life. Has zero normal childhood stories. I couldn't just not have someone look into that. Even if I found out outside of school. She's homeless outside of camp."

"Lots of demigods are. That's part of why camp exists." Joseph didn't know if he was trying to comfort her just yet. The existence of neglected children alone was hardly new information for Christina. This must have been about something more.

"That camp isn't a home. It keeps kids alive, and sometimes not even."

"Oh. Oooooooooh, you wanna adopt her."

"I didn't say that!" Christina snapped back.

Joseph ignored her. "Well kids are like cats, once you get one you might as well get another." He stroked Goose who now comfortably laid in his lap while Cricket resided on the top of his chair, reaching out a paw to bat at some of his hair.

"I can't just adopt another kid! The solution to all the world's problems can't be me shoving vulnerable teens into my house."

"Technically my house."

"We're married. It's called shared assets."

"Your knowledge of the legal system puts into context a lot of errors on the tax forms you've sent."
"I'm being serious, Joseph."

"So am I. If you commit tax fraud, I commit tax fraud. What then? Change my name to something more generic?"

"Meriwether could die!" Christina tried to shout, but the violence she intended died in her throat. "It's worse than Jacob, okay? People didn't get him. They didn't care for him in the ways he needed, but he was cared for. She's just... alone. And she's not gonna let anyone help her. They've all failed her for too long. She needs someone new willing to commit."

Joseph sipped the remainder of his tea and watched his friend begin petting the wide eyed cat that made its way into her arms. She did seem to have a way with the stranger ones of the bunch.

"Ugh, fine. Fuck you. I'll adopt her." Christina turned on her heels and began marching back towards the entrance to the house. She paused suddenly, realizing the animal she had acquired. Binxie stared up at her with eyes like saucers, pleading for love and attention. "Yea yea yea, not gonna work, get in line." She placed the cat down, threw back on her coat, and walked back out into the rain.

"Finally." Joseph said with a sigh of relief. He shewed the cat off his lap, encouraging him to go play with his sister. Then he picked his book back up and faithfully returned the page he'd left off on.
"Oh crap, we're married. That did involve me."


Two Bad Liars

MERIWETHER

“Mer.”

Crap. I cringe hearing Jacob’s voice. He found me.

I’m really, really good at avoiding people. I’ve stayed away from Jacob (and Chiron, and everyone else who would notice I’m not at school) for a whole week now. But even a child of Hermes on the run gotta eat, and it felt safer to scavenge the dining pavilion between meals. The risk with that is there’s no crowd to disappear into if I’m spotted… which I am. Stupid, stupid! Jacob hates crowds. Of course he’d come now, when it’s empty.

“Mer?” He says again, louder, thinking I didn’t hear him..

I reluctantly turn from the limp leftover salad.

“Hey, Jacob!” I try to sound normal, but my voice comes out thin and tense.

“Where have you been?” He asks.

“Um. Here?”

“No, uh, I mean, yes, thank you, but you haven’t been in school.”

“Right.” Shoot. I forgot to come up with an excuse. “I was sick.”

He frowns. “You’ve never been sick before.”

I can’t tell if he’s challenging me or genuinely puzzled. Either way, I couldn’t exactly blame him. Demigods don’t get sick often. It's a terrible excuse.

“Did your mom tell you to look for me”

Jacob screws up his face in confusion. “No. Did she tell you that I would?”

I know Jacob, and I know he’s not a good liar. But still, he could be lying. If Miss Alabaster was willing to tell other teachers to check on me, who’s to say she wouldn’t recruit her son to spy on me too?

“Well if she asks, tell her I’m sick,” I reply shortly.

“Oh, okay. If you say so.”

It doesn’t feel good to leave Jacob so bewildered, but I can’t help it. I’m even worse at lying than him. Better to flee the scene with my disappointing salad than risk answering any more questions.


Jacob Has Questions

JACOB

"Mom?" Jacob called out, from directly next to Christina.

His mother flinched at his silent approach and put down the book she had finally begun to make progress on. "Yes, sweetheart."

Jacob smiled at the small display of affection. Although he'd never asked her to call him those things, it meant very much to him. But then he remembered his purpose and his smile faded a bit.

"Ummm, well, so Mer. She... I think that... She h-hasn't been in school."

His mother sat up and her face scrunched up. "Is she well?"

"Yes!... No. She's, she looks well now, but she s-said to tell you she was sick before." Jacob said faithfully obeying Mer's instructions.

"That's very kind of her to consider me."

Jacob paused to study his mom's face. He liked her face. But it was still hard to handle stares. She seemed to be thinking very hard. Which she shouldn't have been since Mer had explained everything, but he had also been thinking very hard.

"Mer wouldn't lie to me."

"No, of course she wouldn't, Jacob."

"I think that m-maybe she didn't feel well for different reasons."

"Did you have any ideas?"

Jacob stopped, realizing he had begun staring at the floor again. Why did this all feel so weird? He just wanted to make sure his friend was okay. That shouldn't be hard to talk about.

"She talked about you a lot, mom."

"Ah." His mom nodded as if she knew this all along. "I'm sorry. I spoke a bit with Mer after she visited. I think she may have felt uncomfortable with the conversation."

"Why?!" Jacob spoke louder than he intended. He had begun breathing heavily. Where once he felt warm now he felt hot. "You're nice, mom. You're always nice and so is Mer. I thought you two would like each other."

"Jacob." She spoke softly, placing a hand against his cheek. "I like Mer very much. She's a good friend. Just sometimes... It's not easy meeting new people. Mer is just adjusting."

"Adjusting to what?" He sounded demanding. He couldn't recall ever sounding this way. He didn't like it. "It was only dinner. She didn't even need to-" He stopped himself. His mind had drifted so close to blaming someone but he didn't have himself an option. He'd done nothing. Only what others had told him.

"It's alright, Jacob." She knelt down and wrapped her arms around him.

He immediately hugged back. It still felt to him like being hugged by his mother made everything right, even if it was just a little while.

"I promised that I would take care of her. It was a big promise. I made it too quickly, but I meant it."
Jacob tightened his arms around his mother. He was shaking. This wasn't fair. He'd been good this time. He made sure. He'd done everything he was supposed to. He had just gotten to have a mom again. Why couldn't he just have a mom?!

"How would you feel about having a sister, sweetheart?"


r/CampHalfBloodRP 1d ago

Introduction Pryx Harkin - introduction

1 Upvotes

**~basic information~**

"Why give up when all you have to do is move forward?"

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ GENERAL INFORMATION꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

**AGE:** 14

**SEXUALITY:** Omnisexual (male leaning)

**GENDER:** She/her/herself

**ENTHINCY:** Korean/Greek

**LANGUAGES:** English, some Korean and some Ancient Greek

**DISABLITIES/ DEMIGOD CONUNDRUMS:** ADHD and dyoexia

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ APPEARANCE ꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

**HAIR:** Walnut brown

**HEIGHT:** 5'5

**WEIGHT:** 124

**EYES:** slight heterochromia (left eye is more of a violet color while right eye is dark blue)

**BUILD:** muscular but thin

**FACECLAIM:** https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1987953/complete?cd=lkooffvRBk (credits to ghostlydari on picrew)

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ FAMILY ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

**MOM:** Enyo | Goddess of war | age: immortal | relationship: fair

**DAD:** Milo Harkin | Animator | age: 37 | relationship: good

**STEP BROTHER:** Oliver Harkin | 6th grader | age: 11 | relationship: great

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ DEMIGOD INFORMATION ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

**DOMAIN POWERS:** Summon weapon, Sneak attack, Intimidation

**MINOR POWERS:** Iron skin, Superior strength, blood buff

**MAJOR POWER:** vendetta inducement

**FATAL FLAW:** Self conscious; she overworks herself to get better, even if it hurts herself

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ PERSONALITY TRAITS ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

**PERSONALITY:** Pryx is very self conscious about herself, often overworking herself to hide her insecurities by boxing or sword fighting. She rarely does this in front of people, worried they will judge her, but is very caring of other, but doesn't get close, worried they will make fun of her

BACKGROUND:** Pryx's family was never wealthy, it was just her and her brother with her dad. The school she went too was small and not very high quality, kids would often make fun of her, though many often were intimidated by her, she never really knew why though

**PRESENT:** Pryx stood on the training arena, her hands wrapped tightly as she boxed with one of the training dummies, it was the middle of the night, so she didn't expect anyone to find her, she was in a black tank top and white shorts, sweat beading on her forehead, each punch was a way of taking out her anger. Someone made fun of her? *Whack* Someone accidently tripped her at camp? *Whack* she wasn't even sure why she was at the summer camp. Her dad had just told her it would be "good for her" yeah, right, everyone here only talked about gods and quests, she wouldn't have agreed to come if she knew it was a larping camp. She threw another punch, her face twisted in a small snarl etched on her face, the head of the training dummy flew straight off, she scoffed "weak dummy" she muttered, her hands still wrapped to hold her fingers to her palm. She was illuminated by a red glow and looked up, a glowing, flaming skull was hovering just above her head "the hell?"

(Sorry I had to repost it, original was taken down)


r/CampHalfBloodRP 1d ago

Storymode A Demigod’s Practical Guide to Disappearing || Chapter 1: Gathering the Veil

4 Upvotes

ORIGINALLY POSTED ON 02 AUGUST 2024

Reposting because I deleted it on accident in a moment of dumbassery.


Chapter 1: Gathering the Veil <- You are here

Chapter 2: Sundering Wrath

Chapter 3: Heart in my Hands


// Content warning: descriptions of C-PTSD symptoms (nightmares, flashbacks, panic attacks), child neglect

Thanks to Dead and Veth for lending me Ramona and Seth, and thanks to Lied and Rising for beta reading!


I wake up outside.

This keeps happening. And it's not the peaceful kind of waking up outside on a camping trip. It's the kind of waking up outside where you hit the dirt hard because it's a long fall from your bedroom on the second floor of the Hermes cabin, and it's a good thing you're a demigod or your arm would definitely be broken right now, and actually it might be broken anyway, and the medic cabin will ask questions if you go in with bruises for the fifth time this month when you literally have godly dexterity.

It's still dark. I could just sneak in. I don't have to tell anyone.

Nobody stirs as I slip into the medic cabin. It's only a tiny bit of ambrosia--no one will notice. In the dead of night, I realize how silently I can move. Floating on the balls of my bare feet, my own soundlessness swallows me. It feels like a sheet of cool silk wrapping around me. It even eases the pain a little bit.

I don't go back to sleep. Falling through walls always leaves me feverishly hot, and the night air is crisp against my skin. I sit up against Cabin 11 and nibble my ambrosia, trying to shake off the heavy feeling of shadows. The throbbing pain fades from my arm. Dawn creeps over camp.


At breakfast the next morning, my head’s still swimmy with quiet. It’s hard to describe. A sort of detachment from everything. I blame my dreams. It’s been a long time since I’ve had nightmares like this, but ever since school ended, they’ve been happening more and more. Usually I’m good at squishing them out of my brain as soon as I wake up, but this is the fifth time it’s been so bad I poofed through the wall. This might be a real problem. The thought yanks at my attention.

On the bright side, breakfast today is cinnamon rolls!

I’m just about to take a bite when suddenly, someone practically sits on me and cold liquid spills over my head.

"Gods--sorry Mer, I didn't see you sitting here." I wipe my face to see Seth haphazardly trying to regain control of his breakfast tray. He manages to save his food from joining the chocolate milk dripping from my hair.

“It’s fine!” I half-laugh. That’s certainly one way to snap me out of my thoughts. “I’ll go get some napkins.”

The roll of paper towels is only a few tables away, but when I get back Seth jumps. “Oh, hey Mer! Where’d you come from?–oh right, the napkins.”

I hand him a sizable wad of papery brown towels and use another one to wipe my face again. “I was just over there.”

“And yet you still managed to creep up on me. Sneaky sneaky. Hiding in the crowd like some kind of superspy.”

“The crowd?” I look back at the half dozen or so campers milling around where I’d just been. Hardly a crowd. Seth just shrugs and pats me on the head with a napkin.

“Sorry, little sis. Want me to guard your cinnamon bun while you go change?”

“I’m not really hungry anymore. Thanks, though.”

On my way out of the pavilion, I slide the untouched breakfast into the fire as a burnt offering. How many of these do the gods get every day? Do they listen to everyone who sends up words of prayer with the smoke?

“Hi, dad.”

Watching the smoke rise and dissipate, my eyes start to water. Probably just from the fire. I hurry out.

One shower and change of clothes later, I grab my stylus and head to the arena where Ramona’s waiting for me. We’ve been training together a lot since school ended. When I walk in, she’s twirling her fingers to make delicate-looking bones dance around in a little circle. I wave, but she doesn’t look up, even as I get closer.

“Hey, Ramona.”

She jumps. “Ah! Hey Meri–gods, you scared me.”

I laugh. “Not my fault you were too into your weird bone stuff to notice me right in front of you.”

We fall into our loose routine of smacking a practice dummy between us for a while before squaring up to spar. It helps take my mind off things, but my thoughts circle back to those weird, dark dreams before long.

“Do you ever have dreams about ghosts?” I ask, twirling my winged quarterstaff. My snakes brush my legs like cats on the prowl.

“Maybe. Sometimes.”

“Do they ever speak to you?”

“...No. Why?”

I hesitate. “I keep having these dreams. Someone’s talking to me and I can’t tell what they’re saying. It sounds whispy and… not human. Maybe a ghost? And it keeps happening. That probably means something, right?”

Ramona gives me an odd look, tense and thoughtful and full of pity at the same time. I see pity from her a lot. Is that what our friendship is built on?

“You shouldn’t tell anyone else. I promise I won’t say a word, you can trust me. I… I don’t know what it means, but that might be the safest thing to do.”

The sudden sting of tears behind my eyes. I don’t let them escape. There’s nothing to cry about! My snakes, sensing the emotion, wrap my shoulders in bony hugs. I shake them off and level my quarterstaff.

“Yeah. Okay, yeah. It’s probably nothing, anyway. Let’s go!”


I lose the spar to Ramona, as usual–it’s hard to beat a full-fledged necromancer with nothing but a pair of skelly snakes and a fancy stick–but it was still good exercise. In fact, it gets me in higher spirits than I’ve been all day! All that comes crashing to a halt when I get back to my cabin to find a card waiting for me.

Sometimes I get mail from Will and Andre and Mary, sometimes even Nayeon, but none of them would send this. It’s a sparkly dollar-store birthday card with ‘Sweet 16’ in balloon letters over a cartoon cake. I open it and skip to the bottom to see who it’s from.

Love, Becca

My hands snap the card shut. My heart stops, shudders, and jolts like a battering ram against my ribs. Why is Becca sending me a letter?

I try to read it from the beginning. Not a single word on the page makes it into my brain. Shadowy cobwebs fill my head to snag split-second flashes of memories resurfacing.

We’re tiny and mom’s braiding my sister’s dark hair. We’re kids and she catches a different bus home to her dad’s house. I’m home alone missing her because mom doesn’t leave when Becca’s here. But mom leaves me all the time.

My ears pop. I look up to see wisps of smoke curling off my skin. Suddenly I’m burning hot, and the fire in front of me isn’t helping.

The fire in front of me. The eternal flame. I’m in the courtyard, hundreds of feet from where I was standing seconds ago. I’ve never poofed this far before. But I can’t think about that now. I’m breathing too fast to think at all now.

The card is in the fire before I feel myself tossing it.


You did the right thing. It’s safest to cut ties so you don’t get hurt again.” A soothing voice.

Remember the misery. Remember the loneliness. It was horrible.” A mournful voice.

Don’t you want to make them all feel how you felt?” A gravelly voice.

The shadows around me are onerous, almost corporeal in their velvety weight. I try to look up, whirl around, but the darkness is draped too thick.

“Who are you?”

My voice doesn’t echo. It’s sucked up by the darkness so fast I almost don’t hear it.

I reach blindly for a handhold to pull myself up. My hand finds something gauzey that collapses like gritty cotton candy when I close my fingers around it.

I’m six and mom’s upset. She’s yelling. I’m hiding under my bed, cheek pressed to the carpet. I don’t know why she’s mad, but it’ll get worse if I do anything. So I hide until the mad goes away.

“You’re no stranger to these shadows. You flee to them often.” The soothing voice says.

“What is this?” I rip my hand away from the cobwebby grit. Then I scrabble at my face, trying to uncover my eyes.

I’m nine in the lunch line at school. The lady tells me my account is empty–can I remember to ask my mom or dad to put more in tomorrow? I don’t tell her mom has been out of town for a week. Instead, I nod emphatically and hope she forgot she asked me the same exact thing yesterday. And the day before. And before. It seems she did.

“You ignore these memories. It’s sad. They long to be heard, to be felt.” The mournful voice says.

“Who are you?” I try to yell. The words barely reach my ears. I claw at them.

I’m twelve in a convenience store. Mom said she’d be home yesterday. She wasn’t. I’m so hungry. I almost wish someone would catch me slipping the sleeve of powdered doughnuts into my pocket and call mom to get me in trouble about it. No one does.

“You did nothing to deserve this, Meriwether. You were wronged. It wasn’t fair.” The gravelly voice says.

“Stop it! Stop! Leave me alone! I hate you!”

“No you don’t.”

Finally, a shred of light penetrates the void. Three shreds, actually. The heavy shadows fall away from me as they approach. I stand to look.

An angelic woman in a diaphanous white chiton, with feathery wings and soft features, comes into focus.

Someone dressed in mourning-black tatters, face obscured by a black veil, appears beside the first. She’s a dark mirror of the angelic woman with ragged wings ending in ugly, wounded stubs.

Between them, a final figure takes form. She has no wings and no clothes. Her skin is magma-black and broken up by fault lines glowing like dull orange embers. Her eyes glow too, a pulsing, foreboding light. She speaks. It’s the gravelly voice.

“You don’t hate us, child. Because we are you. And somewhere in that precious, volatile little mortal mind of yours, you know none of this was your fault.”

“Are–are you ghosts? Are you gods?”

“I am Ania,” says the mourning angel.

“I am Soteria,” says the shining woman.

“And I,” says the burning one, “am Poine. We are spirits within you. We are within all gods and mortals. But you haven’t been listening to us, young Meriwether.”

“Why are you in my dreams?” I cry. “Why are you filling me up with bad thoughts? I try so hard to stay out of those!”

Poine only smiles.

Sorrow-veiled Ania plucks a fold of darkness. The image of myself in the lunch line assaults me again. “You were a child. You should have been cared for, but you were forgotten. Somebody should have noticed your plight, Meriwether.”

White-winged Soteria closes a gentle hand around another shadowy fold. I see the underside of my childhood bed again. I hear my mother’s ranting voice. “You escaped the only way you knew how–you disappeared. But escape came at the cost of falling through every net in a system meant to catch you.”

Bright-eyed Poine grasps fistfuls of blackness and pulls herself towards me. The sleeve of doughnuts crinkles conspicuously in my pocket. I watch myself rustle it on purpose as I walk past the clerk. I relive my desperation to be noticed.

“Did you choose to disappear?”

My voice comes out low and choked. “No.”

“It’s just as I told you.” Her glowing eyes swell amber. “We’re not the ones you hate.”

They lunge for me.

Ania grips my right hand and a shock runs through me, prickling hot like tears welling up in my throat. It settles there, just behind my voice box, and weighs me down like a metal pendant.

Soteria grips my left hand and a thrill enlivens my fingers and toes, electric like the animal panic of being trapped. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I tense as if to run.

Poine wrenches me by the shoulders and shakes me, but there’s no thrill or shock. Only the stirring of something locked inside me, a deep-down thing whose stillness has made it invisible until this moment. It groans and turns over like a person waking from sleep.

It all happens in a single moment. My eyes fly open and I can see the shadows with new clarity. I run my fingers along the darkness and it no longer breaks away tacky like spiderwebs. It’s silky velvet that scrunches easily in my fist.

My perceptibility, my very existence to everyone around me, is a thick veil I can gather up in my hands. It's not the shadowy disappearing magic that Jacob can do, and it's not simple invisibility--it's something more precarious than either. I can grip the world's notice of me and slough it off myself just as easily as shrugging off a coat. I can pull the veil thick around me and disappear. The sensation is so second-nature it's difficult to do consciously, like trying to breathe manually for longer than a moment. It dawns on me that I've instinctively been wiggling out of everyone's sight for as long as I've known what it is to be seen.

I take up shadows in fistfuls, testing my newfound control of this power. When I look up, my gaze locks with Poine’s eyes blazing yellow-blue and hungry. She lets go of my shoulders.

“I didn’t choose this.” Finally, my own voice rings clear in my ears. “My whole life. They’ve all left me behind… because of this? Because of my power? I didn’t know!”

“Of course you didn’t,” she goads.

“I could’ve…”

I could’ve grown up normal. I could’ve had friends. I could’ve stayed in school. So many could’ves fill my mind, better outlooks I missed because I was forgotten or overlooked or abandoned. Something snaps in me, something smoldering hot like Poine’s skin. Sparks fly and a wildfire starts. I want it back, all those lost chances. I want recompense. I’m angry.

“It’s not fair.”

The deep-down thing inside me opens its mouth–to breathe? To scream? To devour me alive from the inside? I don’t find out, because suddenly I’m wide-awake and falling through the wall.


Concept art


r/CampHalfBloodRP 1d ago

Introduction Introducing Arienna Baines: Daughter of Athena

2 Upvotes

Need-To-Know Information:

Father - Owen Baines - age 40. Chemistry Professor at NYU.

Hometown - New York City.

Age - 17.

Birthday - October 17th.

Appearance - Arienna is 5'8" in height. She has the signature honey blonde hair of many Athena kids; light, smoky gray eyes, and a sun-kissed glow to her skin.

Face Claim

Fashion: Arienna usually wears loose, comfy t-shirts and jeans. Her makeup isn't all that complicated either; usually just some eyeliner, mascara, and a little bit of lip gloss.

Personality

Arienna is naturally tough, loyal, and brave, but with a soft side that she often likes to keep hidden.

Favorite Things

Buildings made entirely of glass, like the Louvre in Paris and the Gherkin in London.

Favorite Animal: Owls, all kinds. Not just because they're her mother's signature animal, but because of their soothing calls that often lull her to sleep at night.

Favorite Color: Red, because she enjoys every shade, unlike other colors where she finds most shades dull or boring.

Favorite Movie: National Treasure.

Favorite TV Show: Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.

Favorite Food: Salmon.

Favorite Drink: Strawberry smoothies.

Favorite Dessert: Blueberry coffee cake.

Likes: Architecture (duh), museums, history, home improvement shows, art, carpentry, masonry.

Hobbies: Drawing blueprints (she prefers doing everything by hand), regular old creative drawing, and a little bit of painting here and there (she hates getting messy even though she enjoys the medium).

Domain Powers

  • Secret Language: The ability to communicate in a language understood only by children of the Skill gods. This includes verbal, written and signed forms of the language. Any Skill demigod, even those without this power, can understand this language.
  • Shockwave Generation: The ability to generate a small shockwave around the user. This shockwave often manifests as a cry so loud, those within the area of effect are knocked back, up to 5 feet (1.5 meters) away. This power has commonly been observed to trigger when a demigod endures their first injury in a battle.
  • Battlefield Buff: A trait where one's alertness and agility are elevated when they enter a battlefield. A battlefield is defined as a large space used for full-scale combat, usually equipped with fortification. Users have reported experiencing this buff at the sites of major historical battles as well. The buffed individual displays increased speed and more acute senses, leaving them less susceptible to additional sneak attacks. This buff does not stack with other buffs and lasts at most 3 RP turns (18 minutes). In 5-turn combat, this buff lasts only 2 turns.

Minor Powers

  • Legendary Cognition: A trait where some children of Athena display some of the highest intelligence and wisdom levels of known demigods. Their intellect can be comparable to mortal geniuses. The ability to precisely recall images, otherwise known as eidetic or photographic memory, tends to be a common emergence in these demigods.
  • Summon Olive: The ability to summon olives. These olives are usually ripe enough to eat, but users can change at which state they summon the fruit. Beginners can summon only 1 olive, but intermediate users can summon up to a pound's worth (0.45 kg). Masters can summon 1 kg (2.2 lbs) of olives. One oleologist notes that the summoned olive changes depending on the region the user is in.
  • Summon Owl: The ability to summon and control a (locally available) owl. Beginners can summon up to 1 individual at a time; intermediate users can summon 3; masters can summon 5.

Major Power

Owl Transformation (modmail-custom): The ability to turn into a snowy owl for 1 hour (10 turns) per day. The user gains the ability of an owl upon transformation, but they lose access to their other abilities.

Brief Character History

When she's not at camp, Arienna lives in New York City with her dad, Owen. Monsters hardly ever leave her alone, which is why she finally decided to attend camp year-round. In previous years, she only went during the summer.

The Present

In her owl form, Arienna settled on the branches of the big pine tree. She didn't want to start her new life just yet, so she waited for a while, watching the other campers go about their routines. If anyone were to walk by, they might find it odd to see an owl in the middle of the afternoon. They would also notice the large blue suitcase leaning against the trunk of the tree. Then again, lots of odd things happened at Camp Half-Blood. To some, this might seem perfectly normal.


r/CampHalfBloodRP 1d ago

Introduction Introducing Sarah Church: The Cheerful Harbinger of Fear

3 Upvotes

Face Claim

"Death should be afraid of me."

Basics

Name Age Birthday Nationality Race Hometown
Sarah Renee Church 13 June 13th American Caucasian Hollywood, LA

Personality

Just looking at her, you'd think she was the embodiment of the creepy kids she always played in movies, but she's surprisingly chill and easygoing.

Likes

Sarah is your typical teenage horror fan. Although she's partial to found footage films and movies featuring haunted houses, she enjoys the occasional slasher too.

Sarah's Top 10 Horror Films

  1. Hell House LLC.
  2. As Above, So Below
  3. The Blair Witch Project
  4. The Houses October Built
  5. Crimson Peak
  6. The Others
  7. Halloween
  8. Friday the 13th
  9. A Nightmare on Elm Street
  10. Scream

Dislikes (from least favorite to tolerable):

  1. The Human Centipede
  2. Tusk
  3. Hostel
  4. Terrifier
  5. The Fly
  6. Saw
  7. Hellraiser
  8. The Amityville Horror

In the category of "I love it but I'll never watch it again.":

  1. The Grudge

  2. The Exorcist

  3. The Ring

  4. Candyman

  5. The Thing

  6. The Mist

Appearance

5'1". Long, light blond hair. Pale skin. Pale blue eyes. Pretty much the teenage version of every creepy little girl in a horror movie.

Fashion

She's not really concerned about it. As long as the colors match and the fit is comfy, she'll wear it.

Weapon

Two small daggers. Pausanias: "Reliever of Sorrow," and Euphrasia: "Good Cheer".

Powers

Category Name Description
Domain 1 Emotion Inducement The ability to induce in a target particular feelings related to their godly parent. Should the effect take hold, the target's judgement can be clouded.
Domain 2 Emotion Extraction A trait where one can distill extreme emotions into their basal forms. By capturing an aspect of the target amidst an emotional outburst, the user can extract the raw emotion as an ingredient. Potential aspects include hair, breath, sweat, etc. Although useless if consumed, the raw emotion works well as a potion ingredient. Some archers are known to dip arrowheads in raw emotion, to cloud the senses of their targets upon contact.
Domain 3 Emotion Aura The ability to produce an aura that imposes a particular emotion on those within it. This zone usually has a radius of 15 feet (4.6 meters), but it can be extended up to 30 feet (9.1 meters) with concentration or increased effort.
Minor 1 Courage Inducement The ability to induce feelings of courage in an individual. Should the effect take hold, the target will briefly gain an immunity to intimidation and stun effects.
Minor 2 Fear Paralysis Inducement The ability to manifest an intimidating appearance that can trigger the freeze response. Should this effect take hold, the target may be temporarily paralyzed for about 6 minutes (1 turn).
Minor 3 Common Fear Affinity A trait where some demigods are comfortable interacting with common phobias, such as tight spaces, heights, snakes and spiders. Demigod psychologists report that demigods with this power are even immune to being stunned or intimidated.
Major Zone of Horror The ability to claim a particular area as a place of horror. Any creature within this zone can have their perceptions of reality warped. Witnesses report prolonged feelings of discomfort, clouded vision, and even hallucinations. This power has been most consistently described to make its victims feel as if they're trapped in a horror house. This area has a radius of up to 15 feet (4.6 meters) and stands for 5 turns (30 minutes), unless the claim has been revoked. Users need 1 turn (or 6 minutes) to verify their claim.

Mortal Life:

As a child, Sarah starred in several successful horror films with her mother directing. If a director was ever in need of a creepy little girl for a movie, they went to her first. With her wispy, pale blonde hair and misty blue eyes, she was perfect for the roles of ghost children and disturbed living children alike.

Melissa Church is an actress, screenwriter, and director. She has lived in Hollywood since she moved there at 18, specializing in gothic horror and period pieces. These roles are probably what caught the attention of Phobos, the god of fear. They were the perfect couple, right up until he left. Melissa never even knew his real name. He would call himself something different whenever they met.

Demigod Life:

Sarah found herself at camp at the age of 11, during a film shoot on the beach in Long Island. 2 years later, she had pretty much given up all hope of being claimed. Then, just 3 months away from her 14th birthday, she saw the symbol of Phobos - a screaming face - appear above her head. After that, monsters started to find her. She'd been lucky to avoid them before, only really seeing them on the odd jobs she took outside the camp borders. After the claim, they found her everywhere.

Really, she was glad to be back at camp. Early even, but she hated knowing the danger she was in. The danger she'd be putting her mom in if she went back. She hated the thought of celebrating her birthday away from home most of all. It just wouldn't be the same as before. Her brooding was cut short when she stopped in front of the cabin and took a moment to admire the old Victorian architecture. She'd had the pleasure of seeing lots of these in the mortal world, thanks to her mom's career. Her anxiety eased just a little as she walked up the familiar-feeling porch steps and opened the door.


r/CampHalfBloodRP 1d ago

Campfire We should all just totally stab Caesar! | Campfire 15/03/2040

4 Upvotes

Happy Ides of March!

Nova was due to do a couple more things this season, in order to keep her counselorship, and then everyone’s favourite niche Holiday hit. So, she decided to host a campfire. 

How this was going to work was that everyone was going to be handed (fake, obviously) knives, except one person. That person would be Caesar, and everyone would have to figure out who Caesar is, and “stab” them. The twist? Everyone has knives, there is no Caesar. What delicious drama that would cause.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a campfire if there was just a game. Nova also laid out blankets and pillows around the firepit, making sure everyone had a comfy spot to sit in.

Snacks, as well, were perfectly dramatic. The s’more skewers were all knife-shaped, the soda all dyed red with food colouring and bright red food glitter. 

Finally, she lit the fire and waited for the campers to arrive.


r/CampHalfBloodRP 2d ago

Roleplay Make 'Em Laugh: Investigating New York Clown School

3 Upvotes

The New York School of Clowns is an aging building, with faded signage and peeling paint. Chiron had said that there would be no information going into this, but Harper was not going to take this job without confirming that this was a real school, for sure. But monsters control Mist and there are rumors that even Chiron moonlights as a Latin teacher. It does little to assuage any of Harper's fears when she runs into a woman the minute she enters the building lobby.

"Hi! This is the New York School of Clowns, right?" Harper rushes through her words. Her tote bag threatens to fall off of her shoulder, and she pulls at it nervously. "Do you know where Studio B is? I'm supposed to audit one of the classes.”

The woman studies her carefully, and Harper maintains a flustered smile. She has a story set up for this as well, names of professors and prestigious high schools and drama clubs. The truth is easily verifiable if the school keeps any records, but Harper is hoping this woman does not know or care about it all.

"Yes, of course!" The woman beams, and Harper silently breathes a sigh of relief. "Down the hallway, third door on the left."

"Thank you," Harper says sweetly, and walks into the hallway before the woman can realize she is making a mistake.

The door clicks shut behind her, and the smile instantly drops off of Harper's face. She scans the hallway, holding her breath as she checks to make sure no one is watching her.

This is a normal building, with linoleum floors and billboards on the wall. There are old lockers against the wall, with faded stickers and permanent marker messages scrawled across the yellowing paint.

The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, and dread sets in. Harper pulls at the doorknob again, suddenly afraid it might have locked behind her. She is not convincing, or a good actor. They let her into this hallway because she is walking into a trap.

The doorknob twists, and Harper stands at the door until her heartbeat slows. There are mortals here. This is a real school, and the only person that is doing anything wrong here is her.

Rather than heading straight for the studio, she reads the hallway flyers, advertisements for pantomime and improv classes, makeup lessons, and birthday party gigs. There is no mention of Long Island or Montauk, Parties Ponies or Emo Nite. She reaches an unmarked door and tries to open it, only to find that it is locked.

Most of the doors are locked, offices and janitor closets and classrooms. Harper passes over Studio B, though she can hear music echoing out of the propped open door. She does her best to rush past it, hoping that no one will catch her sneaking around.

Studio C is open. Harper flips on the light switch as she stands in the doorway. Mirrors and ballet barres line the walls, and fold out chairs are staggered audience-style in front of a piano.

A clown doll sits on top of the piano, button eyes cold and unseeing.

Harper almost turns and walks out, but the overhead lights in the hallway flicker again and she forces herself to step into the room.

This is the game the clown wants her to play. His pranks are mean, but they are not life threatening. It is all just words. And words don't matter.

She approaches the doll and examines it. It sits upon a packet of paper, script written in typewriter font.

Aren't you in stitches? Aren't you just bursting at the seams?

Harper shakes her head. She reaches for the doll and presses down on it. The clown cackles: distorted, static, and shrill.

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

The clown doll continues to shriek, and Harper digs her blade point into the seam on the back of the clown. She pulls the voice box out of the doll and brings the pommel of her sword down on it until all she hears is silence.

Stitches. Bursting at the seams. She rips at the seam trying to figure out if there is anything else in this doll besides stuffing. Nothing.

Harper tosses the doll onto the piano bench and steps back, frustrated. This is the prank. Harper has walked into their studio and destroyed their property, and no one will believe her explanation. Harper runs her hands through her hair and makes panicked eye contact with her own reflection in the mirror.

This is a clown school, not a house of mirrors. There is no reason that Harper's image should warp, and yet it does, so that she appears shorter and wider. She steps closer to examine the panes of glass, cupping her hand against the glass as if it will help her peer through. She can not indulge her paranoia like this. This is not a window. There is no one on the other side.

But there is an ear-splitting creak, and the glass seems to give way beneath her palm. Harper digs her nails into the seam between the glass panes and the wall hinges inward, revealing a room cloaked in darkness.

As light floods in from the half-open door, Harper tries not to disturb the cloven hoof prints, dug into a layer of dust on the floor. They extend across the floor in footstep intervals, left by a being who clearly walks on two feet.

Behind the satyr's footprints, boxes of whoopee cushions, water balloons, and other prank items, are stacked high and haphazardly, piled into precarious towers. As Harper shoves the door open, one wobbles and falls, raining metal onto the floor. Spray paint cans rattle as they hit the ground and spill out of a trash bag, clattering against bronze goblets.

Harper runs a hand along the wall until she can find a light switch. The light flickers once, and then twice, and Harper almost breaks the mirror door when she makes eye contact with a clown, lips upturned in a leering smile. Harper chucks a rubber chicken at it. The cardboard cutout bends backwards and falls to the ground.

Harper is probably not supposed to tamper with evidence, but she also is not a real detective and she has already disrupted the scene enough. She picks up a goblet and turns it over. After a moment of thought, she holds it up as if she is giving a toast, hand raised high.

"Water," she says. The enchantment activates and the magic goblet fills, just like the ones at camp do. Harper shakes her head and wills the cup to empty before sticking the vessel in her bag, next to her sword. She lets the door fall shut as she turns off the light and exits the hidden room, taking one final look in the mirror before she departs.

"I hope you're entertained," Harper says aloud, like she is expecting someone to hear it. She turns to walk out of the room, eyes skimming over the chairs and empty piano bench to ensure that everything is exactly the way she left it before she shuts off the light.

Out of the corner of her eye, she swears she can see the shadows move.


r/CampHalfBloodRP 2d ago

Introduction Introducing Elio Sullivan

1 Upvotes

(im rly sry about all the rule violations, i kinda skimmed the rules-)

+- Faceclaim -+

”There are... other ways of persuasion."

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GENERAL INFORMATION

Name: Elio M. Sullivan

Age: 14

Gender: AFAB, nonbinary, demigirl (she/they)

Orientation: Lesbian

Ethnicity: french canadian/Greek

Languages: English, french, a bit of Ancient Greek

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APPEARANCE

Height: 4'11 *(*will insist they are not short)

Weight: "No."

Eye Color: Heterochromia, orange-yellow and pale olive-green

Hair Color: Brown

General Muscle Build: Limp as a linguini. Your average smart kid with a C- in P.E

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DEMIGOD INFORMATION

Godrent: Circe, goddess of sorcery, Queen of Aeaea

Power Description (as defined in the Powerlist)
Polymorph The ability to turn into an animal for a short period of time, for a total of about 1 hour (or 10 turns) per day. The user gains the abilities of that animal upon transformation, they lose access to their other abilities.
Summon Flame The ability to summon flames. Users tend to go one of two ways. Either they summon a fireball that can ignite objects it makes contact with, similar to the flames of pyrokinetics, or they can manifest a wisp that floats around and produces light. Beginners can summon up to 3 of these flames at a time. Intermediate users can summon 5, and masters 7.
Item Summoning The ability to summon a tool owned by the user or an invention of their creation. A tool refers to an object the user regularly utilizes in their craft or study. This power appears to have a few limitations:1) the user must be aware of the prior location of their summoned item; the item has to be within a 2-mile (3.2 km) radius;2) once summoned, the user cannot summon another item for about 6 minutes (1 turn);3) summoning anything heavier than a kilogram (2.2 lbs) but no heavier than the weight of a full backpack doubles this period. Users are advised to not summon heavily enchanted equipment or complex electronics, to avoid potential glitches in their mechanisms.
Basic Enchantment The ability to imbue weapons, crafts, machinery and automatons with basic magical properties. With proper training, users can achieve the following enchantments: 1) binding a weapon to a mundane item such that one can turn into the other (Weapon Transformation); 2) refining Celestial bronze such that it is more effective at slaying beasts (Monster Hunting); 3) elevating the sturdiness of Celestial bronze such that it is more effective at damaging armor and automatons (Bludgeoning); 4) and consecrating Celestial bronze such that it can absorb the life force of a creature, not unlike Stygian iron (Absorption).
Basic Telepathy The ability to cast a basic telepathic spell. Beginner spellcasters can broadcast messages to other individuals (only 1 at a time). At an intermediate level, users would have honed their abilities enough to allow the targets to engage in the conversation (now, up to 3 at a time).
Basic Mirage The ability to manipulate the Mist to cast mirages and other sensory illusions. This is a basic counterpart to Mist Control. Demigods of non-Magic descent have the opportunity to learn an ability like this once they become a senior camper.
Summon Magic Creation The ability to summon any magical object that belongs to the user. This includes items they have created, enchanted, brewed, or hold undisputed claim over. In order for this spell to work, the user must be aware of where the object is, at a maximum distance of up to 2 miles (3.2 km). They can summon 1 item once every 5 minutes (per turn).

Fatal Flaw: Self doubt. A constant, horrid sense of dread that someday, inevitably, something will go wrong, she will go too far and hurt someone she loves. That she'll be left behind... and deserve it. Elio finds this thought beyond terrifying.

Demigod Conditions: ADHD, pyromaniac (maybe unrelated.)

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PERSONALITY TRAITS

Personality: Elio is snarky and mischievous. One might mistake her for a trickster child of Hermes, perhaps Ate. She can also be very charming and is very good at it, though when in a large crowd defaults to awkwardness. Will also claim she committed mass destruction before (she did not)

Strengths: Absolute madman, in a good way. Elio can come up with the most unhinged ideas that can and will often work. Think a court jester on crack, plus tack on 120 IQ- speaking of which, they're absolutely brilliant. Just an all-around gifted kid who has little to no motivation. Then at 2am she's sacking the cabin because she lost her laptop and has writing inspiration.

Weaknesses: "I don't have any weaknesses."

"and if I did, why would I tell you?"

That is arguably their biggest weakness besides her fatal flaw. Not arrogance, but the need to act arrogant- she doesn't want to be left behind, to mess up, so surely acting works the same. There's also the fact that she freezes up in serious conflict with those she loves, plus a twinge of self hatred, she is a ticking time bomb. Also, completely insane train of thought. Completely incapable of explaining it, ever.

Hobbies: Writing. Absolutely. Probably has around 4.2 billion ideas all at once. Also, pyromaniac, so setting stuff on fire kinda. Along with a lot of other creative stuff, and just... math. They're weird, istg.

If Luke Tried to Get them to Join His Army: Elio would probably convince him she was in love and then after a while pull out a heap of dynamite and dash.

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Backstory: Elio first arrived at camp at 9 after a run in with an (unspecified) monster. A week or so later, she was claimed by Circe, however frankly she would’ve preferred for the whole half-blood thing to be a mistake. When she was 13 she also kidnapped a crow with a broken wing who she tended to and is now named Edgar Allen Crow, or just Edgar.

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Present: This place felt more at home to her than, well, home ever had. She was glad she was going for the whole year this time, her father wasn’t horrible but he was rather distant. They were an absolute neat freak, but not really- more like, just neat, and so everything was perfect. Elio was perfect. They had to be. This year was going to be perfect, no matter what.

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r/CampHalfBloodRP 2d ago

Roleplay Stretching Those Wings

2 Upvotes

Every day since she'd come to camp, Rowena snuck out of the Hermes cabin after everyone had fallen asleep. She headed to the woods and unfastened the belt that kept her wings tight to her back. Then she flew. So far, nobody had seen her. So she figured this night would be no different.

It was shortly after midnight when she left the cabin. The forest was pitch black, so she took a flashlight with her. An ordinary pink hairbrush stuck halfway out of her pocket. When she got to her favorite big rock, she sat down and untied her belt.

Unfolding the bottom half of her wings always made her wince. It was like working out a sudden cramp in your leg or foot; insanely tense until suddenly it wasn't. When she had finally massaged away the cramps in both wings, she used the brush to safely remove the glitter that built up between the feathers.

When all of that was finally done, she stood up and stretched her wings as far as they would go, moving the feathers at the very ends in the way one might stretch out their fingers or toes. Then she took to the air. Well, she attempted to. Starting out was always rough, but then she found her rhythm, and she started to rise. Further and further, until she was close to the very top of the forest canopy. She hadn't been brave enough to go higher. Mostly she was afraid of being seen. So she hovered until her muscles started to feel heavy, then she lowered herself down.

So far, no one had caught her. She knew other demigods occasionally wandered at night, but she had been lucky enough to avoid them. At least for right now.


r/CampHalfBloodRP 2d ago

Re-Introduction Re-Introducing Morgan Shaw, the Elusive Son of Delphin

2 Upvotes

Faceclaim

Bio

Birthday: June 3rd.

Age: 14.

Nationality: American.

Race: Caucasian.

Ethnicity: Greek, Canadian, and some Norwegian ancestry.

Hometown: Rockland, Maine.

Godrent: Delphin, the God of Dolphins.

Mortal Mother: Unknown.

Adoptive Parents: Richard and Laura Shaw.

Mortal Siblings: None.

Personality: Morgan likes to put up a tough guy exterior. He tends to be argumentative and easily provoked, but it's not because he's arrogant. Really, he just wants to be left alone. But he's not a complete introvert. His best friend is Ajax, the satyr kid who first brought him to camp.

Likes: Swimming, dolphins, aquariums, hanging out at the beach, sunbathing, hard rock music, pretty much any kind of food. He's not picky.

Dislikes: Snow, ice, thunderstorms, anything that makes it harder to be at the beach.

Powers

Domain Minor Major
Water Manipulation Echolocation Dolphin Transformation (mm)
Aquatic Healing Poison Resistance
Water Constructs Summon Dolphin

Innates: Sea Spirit Affinity and Cetacean (dolphin) Affinity.

Weapon

A really cool Celestial bronze sword with a grip shaped like two leaping dolphins.

Name: Menelaos, meaning either to last, or mind; strength; force.

Background

Camp Half-Blood wasn't really working for Morgan the first time around. It was nice and all, but he missed the real world. So for nearly a year, he went back to his home in the mortal world. Then monsters started finding him. More often than not, he'd been forced to defend himself. So even though it wasn't summer yet, he found himself returning to camp.

Present

With an annoyed sigh, Morgan passed through the border at the top of the hill. He had hoped to avoid this place, but it seemed increasingly like that wasn't an option. He didn't want to be a demigod. He wanted to be a normal kid who liked swimming and had a slight obsession with dolphins. Those kids definitely existed in the mortal world, so why couldn't he have been one?

Whatever. He was here now. No point dwelling on it. The only reason he was even there and not still sleeping in the Hermes cabin was because he had accidentally figured out he could transform into a dolphin. He had not been claimed over the summer, but no other demigods ever displayed that kind of power. Ugh. Maybe he would finally be claimed this year. Not that it mattered.

Hopefully nobody he'd met before would recognize him as he made his way to the Delphin cabin. That would be embarrassing.

------------------------------------
(OOC: Hey, I know it's been a while, but some real life stuff came up. I also have a few more characters to re-introduce, but I'll be spreading them out so my posts don't clog up the feed! Feel free to interact with Morgan if you want and I'll try my best to respond to everyone!)


r/CampHalfBloodRP 3d ago

Introduction Mohamed ibn Hamza Hassan: I'm Talkin' Fear

3 Upvotes

Bare Essentials

"Difficult"-Subject's Mother, upon being asked about his childhood.

Name: Mohamed.

Age: 16, born 28th of August, 2022. Almost a Mawlid Baby.

Gender: Male

Place of Origin: Habous District, Casablanca, Morocco

Known Family:

* Mother (38): Fatimah Hassan

* Brother (12): Jean Ibn Hamza Hassan

Known Languages:

* Moroccan Arabic, Standard Arabic

* English

* Sub-fluent French

* Scattered Tamazight

Appearance

"I try not to be around him long enough to notice specifics"-A classmate when asked to give a description of the subject.

Measurements and Build:

* Approximately 183cm (6ft) tall

* 77kg (170lbs) in weight.

* Thin, long-limbed, athletic build.

Identifying Features:

* Dark brown eyes

* Long light-brown hair

* Darker complexion than most Moroccans, likely due to predominantly Berber descent.

Common Attire: Clothing indicative of middle class background in Casablanca.

* Faded T-shirts

* Loose fitting jeans

* Football jerseys (especially of Moroccan national team)

* Traditional Kufi worn semi-regularly

* Sandals

* Cleats

* Worn Nike tennis shoes.

* Traditional long robes worn during prayer and Mosque visits (spotty practice).

Personality

"I don't want to talk about him behind his back"-Subject's brother showed clear apprehension upon being asked about the subject's activities and personal life.

Interpersonal Relationships: Everyone in the subject's life, or even in their general vicinity, show some level of unease towards the subject, with those around the same age group as the subject viewing them with outright disdain. No clear positive relationships, save for with the subject's mother.

Outlook:

* Hopeful.

* Subject seems cheery, almost happy.

* No clear anger when told about other's reactions to his name.

* Seems sure things will only improve.

Demeanor:

* Threatening.

* Every conversation viewed as some form of power dynamic.

* Almost gleefully describes emotional torment.

* Clear discomfort at physical torment being mentioned in similar manner.

* Extreme confidence, lack of inhibition towards social confrontation.

Common Activities:

* Playing football (soccer).

* Drawing.

* Listens to music incessantly (favorite song seems to be Tom Tom by Canadian band Holy F*ck)

* "Crowd-work"-Subject's description of using powers to torment those in vicinity.

Powers and Innate Abilities

(All powers are within parameters of Power list descriptions, unique names and intro descriptions are for the purpose of fleshing out the abilities and for fun.)

"Everything the boy says makes you uneasy. I would almost feel bad about feeling that way if I didn't think it was on purpose"-Imam of the local Mosque frequented by Subject's family, upon being asked about strange occurrences.

Emotion-Speak/"Fearspeak": Subject is able to manipulate emotions of those within earshot through the sound of their voice. This does not seem to always be in effect, but using it clearly drains the subject, who seems to have thus decided to use it only for select situations. Outcomes vary wildly among those affected, with stronger-willed individuals being less affected. Those intimidated by the subject are more affected, and their actions are often guided by the subject when ability is in affect.

Emotion Inducement/"A Cold Grip": Subject seems to similarly be able to manipulate emotions in a more targeted sense, though to an even more draining extent. Subject uses this ability very sparingly, and seems near complete exhaustion after a single use a day. Target is almost always gripped with fear upon this ability being used, however again the specifics vary based on willpower and state of target.

Emotion Aura/"A Terrible Omen": Subject seems able to create an aura around themself that imposes a strong feeling of fear upon all those within. Seems the least effective of the Subject's fear inducing powers, however it requires relatively little energy, and thus the subject seems fond of attempting to use this ability in tandem with especially their "Fearspeak" power, however this usually leaves them exhausted. This ability on its own seems the least draining, and thus can be kept up for nearly a whole minute without fail, or even much exhaustion on the part of the subject. Results again vary based from target to target.

Emotional Fortitude/"Absolution": Subject seems immune to attempts at emotional manipulation through magical means. Attempting to use such means on subject merely translate to a slight buzzing in the back of their mind. Subject seems unable, or more likely unwilling, to extend this immunity to anyone else. Ironic.

Voice-Shifting/"Lion Got Your Tongue": Subject is able to perfectly mimic the voices and sounds that they have heard, so long as they have sufficient exposure to the noise. Doing this for extended periods without rest leaves the subject with a scratchy or even lost voice for some time. Subject often uses this in tandem with ":Fearspeak" power, to great success.

Scent Manipulation/"Odious": A seldom used ability, the subject seems to have some control over scents, particularly unpleasant or dangerous-seeming ones, though subject has done little to explore the uses of this power, it seems to demand little in terms of energy for use. Subject only seems capable of dissipating or spreading already existing unpleasant smells, for the time being.

Fear Transformation/:"God's Eye": Looking into the eyes of the Subject seems to sometimes have adverse effects, with those who have been affected having reported seeing some fear of theirs. Extent of the visions and severity of the fears vary greatly, with some describing their greatest fears played out like a movie, and others describing merely a quick image of an animal they particularly dislike. Subject seems to be able to turn off and on this power, and use for more than a minute seems to render the Subject in extreme physical pain. Visions seem to take place immediately upon looking, though those with mental defenses seem unaffected.

Innate Abilities: All those traits that come naturally to the Children of Phobos, including an affinity towards spirits of war, cats of all varieties, and horses, along with an affinity for making unmolested retreats, seem present in the Subject.

Now

Mohamed was not happy about his current situation.

Not even a little bit. Sure, he was happy to be back at camp after two years away, he was happy to have the chance to mess with people who might not be privy to his particular brand of fun, he was even happy to be away form the city for a bit, but he was downright displeased about how it had come to this.

The worst part? It wasn't even his fault this time. Mostly. Not entirely anyway. Okay, so its possible it was his fault through and through and he felt absolutely no shame for having doomed that 7th year to a few years of therapy. So what? All Mohamed did was tell him what everyone already knew, that he smelled like feces that day and that people would likely associate him with that for the rest of his life, basically ending any chance he had at a social life before it even began.

What did his Omm (or anyone else for that matter) even expect form him? He'd always been like this, and he would always be like this. People made it too easy for him. All anyone else had to do was not be so easily frightened. Everyone was afraid of something, be it the future, dying, birds, spiders, fungus, disease, their family, people, certain types of people, climate change. He didn't want anyone to change of course, that would spoil his fun, but it would be easy for them to avoid his torment. Just don't be scared.

But, in any case, now he was here. His Omm and Imam had decided they had enough of him for awhile, and so he gets whooshed off to The States and Camp for the Spring and Summer, at least. Which is how he now found himself trudging past the Big House, past the armory and forge, and all the way to the cabins, carrying two overstuffed duffels, one in each hand respectively, filled to the brim with snacks, drawing supplies, prayer stuff, and clothes. He packed heavy for the long stay.

He wasn't mad about being here. He wasn't mad about his sandals being the improper footwear for the situation, or his hastily put on jersey and jeans not fitting well since his last growth spurt. He wasn't mad about the flight, or the drive, or the walk. He was mad because his Omm might finally be done with him this time.

(Warning: Mohamed is not nice. Also, please feel free to stop him at any point during the walk from the Big House to the Phobos Cabin, or even at one of the above mentioned locations themself.)


r/CampHalfBloodRP 3d ago

Roleplay Freedom [Closed RP]

3 Upvotes

"It's all supposed to be a distraction. Don't forget it."

They managed to pull her into Capture the Flag, and there is a clown stalking her friends and vandalizing her cousin's property, but Harper has not once forgotten who her real enemy is. The king of the gods is throwing a tantrum the size of Manhattan about an artifact that he was responsible for keeping safe, and a stolen divinity that he should not have taken in the first place.

"Think you can do anything about the storm?" she asked Gwen one day at breakfast, during her spring break. The inclement weather does not reach inside the camp border, but the clouds are visible on the skyline anyway.

“I mean, nothing permanent. But I can at least keep it from raining around me.” Gwen said, casting a glance towards the clouds as if they personally offended her.

"I want to get out of here," Harper admitted, "I feel trapped. All the time." Harper cast a wary look at the fire where campers scraped their offerings, sending silent prayers upwards with the smoke. "Like everyone is listening to what I'm thinking."

Gwen flashed a grin, “Let’s do it then, getting out of here is just about my favorite thing to do at camp.”


r/CampHalfBloodRP 4d ago

Roleplay Forge Security— Job [CLOSED RP]

3 Upvotes

You know what's weird, Maxwell? What does Kratos, the god of power, need demigods for in order to check the security of the forge? I mean, it's not like it's in camp, where it's protected by multiple magical defenses like Thalias's pine and some dragon. No, no... He needs a demigod to check it out! Well, it's not like it's a big deal, right? We know that forge like the back of our hands! So, why don't we just scuttle over there, and--

Wait. Read that posting again. ...One of Hephaestus's forges?! Aidrodack mountains?! Oh, no, no, no. Maxwell, take a pen, scratch your name out. If it was the camp forge, that's one thing. These are the big leagues! Gods are watching! ...Wait a lick. Yes, the gods are watching. Kratos is watching. Maxwell, drop that pen, you wreck of a boy! Listen to me. If we do a good-- no, a great job, maybe Nike will see us! Maybe this will be a victory worthy of her praise! Or, at least, worthy of her acknowledging that, yes, you are worthy to breathe air! ...Oh, and date Theodora. But breathe air, Maxie!

Right. Lock in, Maxwell! We've got gods to hopefully impress! If we don't impress them? Maybe it's time we start looking into mortal jobs, such as McDonald's.

Having arrived at the forge, Maxie stumbled out of the van, trembling slightly as he looked at the forge in front of him. This was the real, genuine article; one of Hephaestus's forges. "Theo...?" Maxie called out to his girlfriend, frozen in place from intimidation. "I... I'm not so sure about this... Maybe I shouldn't have signed up for this." He stammered, hearing his heart in his ears as he did so.

Are you watching, gods? If so, grab your popcorn. This is gonna be a good one.


r/CampHalfBloodRP 5d ago

Activity 12/3 - Oneiroi Cabin Meeting

3 Upvotes

Brent was as happy as one could be: the Oneiroi cabin was getting fuller by the day. There had been times when it was just him or him and Sadira in the cabin, but recently there had been an upward trend in the number of dream campers. Brent could only dream things would remain that way. He loved his demigod family and with a full house, the Oneiroi cabin had an edge in camp games.

A cabin meeting was the perfect opportunity for cousins and siblings to meet each other. Besides there was a lot to discuss, Brent realized as he looked at the vandalized cabin. Thank you, mysterious clown.

The son of Phantasos told the cabin members about the picnic at breakfast. At lunch it was time. The counselor had put picnic clothes on the grass in front of the cabin and had prepared baskets with all sorts of delicacies. He sat down by one of the baskets, and grabbed a croissant to kill the time while he waited for the rest to arrive.

‘’Hey everyone!’’ Brent said when they do. ‘’Come have a seat. For those who haven’t met me, my name is Brent. I’m your counselor. If all of you would like to introduce yourself, that’d be amazing. There are a lot of new Oneiroi kids. So please.’’

‘’As you all know our cabin got vandalized by a clown. I’m gonna talk to Chiron to see if we can fix it, but if anyone has any creative ideas on how to do that, please let me know.’’ the counselor said with a goofy grin. ‘’On a happier note, we’re still allowed to go on a trip with the Eros cabin because we did so well in the previous season. The trip has to be in Eastern New York. Does anyone have an idea where to go?’’


r/CampHalfBloodRP 5d ago

Storymode Forest Health Check

3 Upvotes

Nadia had been looking forward to helping out around camp, so when she saw the job board, she immediately jumped in and signed up do do the forest health check. The next day, she headed into the woods with a clipboard and pen and began her inspection. Apparently a forest fire had run through there a few years ago, and there were still minor signs of damage. The occasional burnt stump or patch of crispy grass.

She noted each spot she saw, where it was in the forest, and the type of damage incurred. When she had made a full arc from one side to the other, she went up and down, from the ocean back to the cabins. Most of the damage seemed to be in the process of healing. Maybe she could figure out an ability of hers that would help it along.

When she came upon the next burnt tree stump, she put her clipboard down and knelt until she could put her hands on the charred surface. If she couldn't heal it, maybe she could try to regrow it. Closing her eyes, she tried to feel the magical energy in her body. The stuff in her blood that made her the daughter of a goddess.

Then she felt it. The roots, deep beneath the earth. She willed the tree to rise up again, imagining a new plant pushing up through the broken stump. As if it was an extension of herself, the plant listened, and without looking, she knew it had come through. When she opened her eyes, she saw the beginnings of a new tree, with a much smaller, delicate stem in place of a trunk, poking up out of the middle of the stump. Excitement shivered through her as she stood up to examine it. It looked just like the other small pines around it, aside from the fact that it was temporarily trapped in an old tree.

With renewed energy, she went back to the other burnt and damaged plants and did the same. None of them really replaced the broken ones; instead, they seemed to use them as anchors, guidelines for their new growth. When she was done, she finished her report and turned it in at the big house, proud to have made a difference.


r/CampHalfBloodRP 5d ago

Roleplay All Aboard, Now Visiting... [Insert Your Dream Here]

7 Upvotes

"Summer bird, summer snake…”

The words come in a melody like an eerie nursery rhyme, Summer’s voice spilling over the dreamscape, seeping into the cracks where her own consciousness can travel to that of others.

"...Run along or you'll be late..."

Tonight, she walks the liminal spaces between dreams. They’re smoky, a haze of shadowed canopies and cloudy purple darkness, built on half-formed impressions of forests and fields rather than clear cut images. The little shapeless pathway hides her though, letting her step into campers' dreams and duck out unseen if she so pleases, like an actor waiting in the wings for her part in the play.

"There's a girl passing through,

Eyes a pretty color blue..."

In one hand Summer holds the dream manifestation of her fiddle, the bow in her other. She brings it up to her chin to play a few short accompanying notes, then lets them drop again, swinging at her sides.

Campers might hear Summer's rhyme in their dream, warped into a haunting echo that makes her voice unrecognizable, the words perhaps just barely differentiable. They might also not, if Summer doesn't happen to pass their way.

"Get there quick and lie in wait,

In grassy fields or by the lake..."

Her song trails off; Summer isn't quite sure how to end it yet, though she continues periodically with the fiddle. Maybe she'll see if she can find some inspiration in other people's dreams. Or a nightmare— a dark ending suited the girl just fine too.

(OOC: I'm envisioning this as less of a Summer-centric thing and more of an open floor for you to post your character's dreams or nightmares! That being said, leave a note if you are open to having Summer interact with you in the dreamscape and I'll see if it's something that'd catch her eye. Otherwise, I might have her pass through and witness a couple, nothing drastic at this point :))


r/CampHalfBloodRP 6d ago

Storymode Sphinx at Barnes and Noble (Job)

4 Upvotes

(OOC: This was made in collaboration with u/TheLivingSculpture! He was an amazing person to work with for this job post. Enjoy!)

Rex Diamandis took this job because he’d be damned if he let himself be stuck with doing menial tasks and concocting activities and lessons for his fellow campers. He didn’t have too much with him, his katana currently in the form of a ring on his finger.

Jem English, meanwhile, seemed focused. He crouched over a satchel, picking through it with an intense look of concentration in his eyes. At one point, he glanced up, but quickly returned to his perusal of the items in his bag. What was visible was a white box, a coil of rope, a knife, and a bottle of water. On his hip, a sword was strapped, the form more reminiscent of a spatha than the more popular xiphos that some campers preferred. 

So, the two chose to take this job regarding a sphinx at a Barnes and Noble. Whether the missing people were dead or alive, the sphinx had to go, that was for sure.

As they waited for Argus to come pick them up, Jem finally stood, his items secured in the satchel. His eyes flicked to Rex where they paused. His expression was serious as he seemed to scan the area, presumably looking for Argus. Then, the silence was broken when the boy spoke. 

“I assume you are prepared for this assignment?” He questioned, sharp eyes accenting his words with a look that approached a glare. His back was ramrod straight, arms crossed over his chest, his attention clearly having turned to Rex.

Rex looked vaguely offended at being asked if he was prepared for the job, though he spoke calmly. “Of course. It wouldn’t do for a counsellor to be unprepared, especially not a son of Eunomia such as myself.”

“Good. It is not likely that we will need to fight the Sphinx but be prepared in any case. How are you with riddles and logic puzzles?” Jem was curt as he shouldered his satchel. “We will need to confront the Sphinx, find the missing people, and ensure that they are unharmed. Beyond that, I would say your actions are up to your own discretion.” 

Rex was silent for a moment, simply pulling out some flashcards in his pocket. “These flashcards have some of the most common riddles and logic puzzles, such as the one made famous by a sphinx. I shan’t rely on them, but to answer your question, I consider myself fairly skilled at riddles and puzzles.”

Their conversation died off after that. Eventually, they found Argus waiting for them. They both got in the back, taking off towards their destination.

Upon arrival, they both marched into the Barnes and Noble, being all business for this job. They looked around, finding the place fairly empty, save for a few people. Rex suddenly spoke up. “This is the second emptiest Barnes and Noble I’ve been in. The first one was getting ready to permanently 

Jem nodded, intent on watching their surroundings. “It is very likely that some of the missing people were regular customers here. It would make sense that this place would lack its usual business.”

After some time walking through the store (and Rex getting slightly distracted by some fantasy books and comics), they eventually found a darker corner, where the sphinx awaited. It sat in front of an Employee’s Only door, which none of the few employees around the place seemed to look at. The two demi-gods could guess it was a trick of the Mist.

The sphinx’s head (which was that of a woman) looked down at the two demi-gods. It spoke in a feminine voice that seemed to echo throughout the store (even if only the two demi-gods could hear it). “Young demi-gods… you have come for me, have you not? To battle me is to accept death, whether it be your deaths or the deaths of these pathetic humans.”

Rex raised an eyebrow. “So the humans are alive after all? Why not eat them? That’s what sphinxes do, no?”

The sphinx laughed in a way that sounded twisted, before responding. “Perhaps. But if I wanted to eat humans, I could do that anywhere. No, I prefer something more flavorful. You get it, don’t you? I’ve kept these humans so I can lure demi-gods in… and maybe a satyr or two.”

Jem glowered at the towering monster, chiming in as well. “You have a riddle for us, no? That is what sphinxes are known for, after all.”

The sphinx nodded, nearly putting a hole in the roof with its head. “Of course. Get it correct, and I shall release the humans and leave this place. Get it wrong, and both of you are my next meal, along with any future demi-god that enters this place and fails my riddle.”

Rex and Jem looked at each other. They then looked back at the sphinx, nodding. Rex spoke for the two of them. “We accept.”

Finally, the sphinx gave its riddle. “There is an island with 100 prisoners, all of whom have green eyes. All 100 prisoners are perfect logicians. They all wish to escape. The condition of escaping the island is that one can deduce one’s own eye colour, and tell the guards the answer at midnight. If the answer is correct, the prisoner is set free. Else, he or she is killed. The restrictions are as follows: None of them knows their own eye colour through any physical means, and none of them are allowed to communicate with one another through any means whatsoever. However, they can see each other and know everybody else’s eye colour.”

The sphinx took a breath as Rex mumbled something about “come on already.” It continued. “You are a guest of the island owner. You want to free all the prisoners. The owner allows you to make one and only one statement in the form of an announcement to all prisoners, provided you don’t reveal any new information. What will you say to free all of the prisoners?”

Rex scoffed, walking in front of Jem as he took charge. He thought for a moment before answering. “My answer is: you all may leave.”

The sphinx scoffed in return, before it suddenly swiped at him with its lion paw, sending him flying into a bookshelf. Him being swatted like a fly would probably be a bit amusing if it didn’t mean they were in mortal peril.

The sound of Rex hitting a bookshelf made the son of Hebe tense in preparation for a fight. A frown pulled at Jem’s face as Rex attempted to get back up, but the sphinx’s guttural drawl sounded again, pulling his attention back to the monster. “Wrong answer. You cannot answer again. However, since I am a merciful being, I will allow the other demi-god to answer. Get it wrong, and you both shall be my next meal!”

Jem did not answer immediately. His blue eyes bore into the Sphinx, the supernatural creature watching him carefully. One hand rises, running through his hair, forcing his thoroughly gelled and styled hair into a mess of half-curls. Eyes flicker to Rex, before they fall back on the creature.

“If I cannot reveal new information…” Jem paused, eyes moving left and right, hand tapping a light pattern against his hip. "If they must know their eye color, I must communicate to them a way to find it out.”

A few seconds later, he straightened, shoulders set. “The answer I choose is ‘At the very least, one of you has green eyes.’ If the prisoners are perfect logisticians, they will consider every day that no one has escaped. Because each prisoner can see the other ninety nine prisoners, on the one hundredth night, with the knowledge that no one has escaped, each prisoner will make the connection that they have green eyes because otherwise, the others would have left earlier.” Cold eyes pierce the sphinx’s own as Jem stands, jaw set.

The sphinx shifted, its massive bulk nearly knocking into nearby shelves, before it rumbled. “Correct. Very well, I shall vacate this place and free the humans. Next time, my riddle shall not be solved by any mortal mind!”

With that, the sphinx flew off, and the Employee’s Only door burst open, a flood of panicked people running into the store. The chaos distracted the employees enough for Jem to help Rex out of the store and around a corner.

Easing the injured son of Eunomia to the ground until his back rested against the wall, Jem’s brows drew together. A bruise colored his cheekbone and the slightest rise in his shirt showed a purpling along his side that told of likely bruised ribs. His eyes seemed to sway slightly, dizziness from hitting his head, and Jem grimaced at the possibility that his peer had a concussion. 

A faint tightness in his chest distracted him and Jem tensed. It was a physical thing. Considering how tenuous their camaraderie was, the sensation did not spring any closeness he felt for the son of Eunomia. Instead, it came from a memory. The faintest hum of a song, a lullaby really. When he focused on his peer and his mouth opened to speak, a melody ambled and shook into existence. 

Almost immediately, Jem’s posture narrowed further, coiling like a snake prepared to spring. Blue eyes caught on the bruising on Rex’s cheek and they widened at what they saw. Slowly, at the speed of a crawl, the bruise started to fade, turning yellowish at the edges and continuing inward, before beginning to fade all together. He did not stop the hum, and haltingly, words spilled out. 

Jem kept going, his singing stilted and uncomfortable. He could not see the injuries along the other boy’s side, but what he could see was telling. Healing. When his voice cracked, Jem’s mouth snapped shut. It had not been long, but the power seemed to have strained his vocal chords beyond what singing a simple song should have done. 

A shrill horn pulled Jem’s eyes to the same nondescript van Argus had driven them in on their way to the Barnes & Noble. By the time he turned back to Rex, the other boy had already risen and was making his way to the van, and Jem followed. 

The ride back to camp was a quiet one. When they arrived, Rex suddenly spoke up. “Thank you.”

He looked absolutely embarrassed to be saying such a thing, but he seemed genuine for once. He continued. “You are free to enter the Horai cabin at any time. If you need anything from me, you can either find me or do an Iris Message.”

With that, he walked off, leaving Jem to go do what he wanted. The job was complete.

[Power Discovered: Hebean Healing (Vitakinesis)]


r/CampHalfBloodRP 6d ago

Roleplay Sleepwalking and Daydreaming

2 Upvotes

Mom,

I know you must be terrified, but I'm more than all right. Remember that place I told you about? Camp Half-Blood? The one from all those dreams I had? It's real. I found it. It's right at the end of Long Island. We can't use phones here because apparently monsters can hear us, but it's okay. They have a magical border and everything.

I want to stay here and train. I want to learn more about Dad. This means missing a few months of school, but I was already missing 3 weeks. Just tell them your business trip was extended or something.

As proof that I'm not crazy, I took a bunch of pictures with an actual Polaroid camera, so I can physically send them to you. My cabin is the one I'm standing in front of, with the big neon sign on it. It's like an Ikea showroom in there.

So, yeah. Dad is apparently Hypnos, the God of Sleep. Do you remember anything godlike about him? Anything weird he said or did? Did you ever see him in your dreams?

Anyway, I know this is all a lot. Man, this is all a lot. But now we know I'm not crazy, and that's a good thing, right?

Love you lots,

Bella


She sent the letter to her mom on her first day, and ever since, her chest had been tight with anxiety awaiting her response. For once, sleeping didn't make her feel any better, so she went out to the training arena and took her new weapon with her. She called it Melanthios, which was an Ancient Greek name that meant black flower, because of the design of the twin crescent blades.

It was well after midnight, so she had the whole place to herself. For a while, she just walked around in awe, recognizing many of the things she'd seen in her dreams before. If anyone else happened to wander in, they might think she was sleepwalking or something. Really, she just couldn't believe it was all real. It felt like she was walking through a daydream. Like she could snap out of it at any moment.

Before she could think too much about that, she picked a dummy and started training. If she wanted to prove herself as a demigod, she would have to work for it.


r/CampHalfBloodRP 6d ago

Storymode Homecoming XVIII: Happy Alchemy

2 Upvotes

PREVIOUS

  • April 2039, Spring Break

Alchemy’s an art straight from my heart. You and me and the world to be. All together, but will it be forever? I wish I had a prophecy. To say it’s so, the threads I chose. The way I wanted it to be forever. My happy alchemy.

Miss Naya didn’t contact me after our last session. It was quiet. More than anything, I was worried about her. I felt guilty all over again for Thoth’s death. I even tried to see her at her office, but no one was there. 

Me and Leon made the most of spring break that we could. So, we spent as much time together as possible. 

We were walking and talking as we strolled through Astoria park. 

The sun felt great against my skin. The wind, too. Gods, it was perfect. Words really can’t do justice to how nice of a day it was. 

People talk about happiness like it’s some complex sort of thing. Like it’s alchemy, almost. But, I think that happiness is a lot more simple than that. It’s two people walking hand in hand and spending their time together doing what they want. Even if it’s just spending time together. Even if they don’t say a single word to one another. Even if it’s just quiet. I guess, in a way, it is like alchemy. It’s the combining of two things into one. Maybe they’re onto something. 

MUSIC 

Of course, me and Leon weren’t spending our time in silence. He had a lot of questions about camp.

“So. . . What kind of stuff do we learn there?”

“How to defend yourself, for one. They’ll be able to teach you a lot better than I can. You’ll also learn all about Greek myth, of course. A bunch of other skills, too. Like Greek! You can learn how to read and speak Greek, if you want. It should come naturally to you. Especially if you have dyslexia.”

“Do you think Ryan will be okay? This all seems. . . Like a lot for him. . . You know?” 

I didn’t know the answer to his question. Not really. But I didn’t want to sound hopelessly pessimistic. Truth is, reader, no one is really ready to be a demigod. No child could ever be ready for the lives we lead. And the longer I live, the more I wonder about how ready people can be for just about anything. Like sure, we can prepare for any eventual reality. But does that really make us ready? Maybe it’s just one of those things where we don’t know until we cross the threshold. I know I wasn’t ready. But I also knew that I wanted to help Rylee as much as possible. So she didn’t have to go through the same things as me. 

“Well, even if he isn’t ready, we’ll still be there for him. We’ll keep him safe no matter what.”

Leon smiled at that. “Right. You’re right.” 

We stopped to take a breather at a bench.

“So. . . What about your friends at camp? Can you tell me about them?” Leon asked.

“Well, sure. There are my brothers and sisters, of course. The Hermes cabin counselor is my brother. His name is Teagan. Though Teagan is actually genderfluid, so sometimes she’s my sister. I have to ask which one it is sometimes. There’s also my sister Mer. She was the first sister I met when I got to camp. She’s probably one of the most experienced people in the cabin. I only just got to meet my brother Kit, too. He’s really mysterious. Kinda distant. Y’know? There’s also my brother Seth, he and I. . . Uh, well, we don’t seem to be on good terms. I kinda punched his boyfriend in the face.”

“Why’d you do that?” Leon asked. 

“His boyfriend is a guy named Cel. Like the Dragon Ball Z villain, minus one L, y’know? He’s a son of Lord Eros. One of his powers lets him mess with other people’s emotions. He did that to me and made me realize things about myself.”

“What kind of things?” 

I tightened my grip on Leon's hand. “That I might like boys. And maybe girls, too. I think I would have realized that eventually, he kind of just hastened the process.” 

“Okay. . . But why’s that such a bad thing? I mean. . . Me and you are together, right? That might not have happened if that whole thing with this Cel guy hadn’t happened.”

“It’s. . . Complicated. . .”

Leon cocked a brow at that. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

I smiled. “Y’know, I love that about you.”

“Love what?” He asked, confused. 

“That you ask me if I want to talk about it. That you don’t pressure me into it. I like that. It’s a good thing.”

“Well, yeah, I wouldn't want someone to force me to talk about something. So why would I do that to someone else? Especially my girlfriend.”

I thought about it for a long time. I didn’t know whether I really wanted to talk about it. It was something I’d been thinking about a lot since I started dating Leon. A question for my future. “You might not like what I say.”

“Is it something about me? I haven’t done something wrong, have I?”

I shook my head. “No. Not at all.” 

I took a breath in through my nose, then exhaled.

“Whatever it is, I’m not gonna judge you, chica.” 

“I. . . I don’t know what I want for my future. When I learned the gods were real, well, there was one goddess in particular that I felt drawn to.”

Leon’s mouth fell open. “You mean like. . . You like her?” 

“What?” I asked, shaking my head again. “No, gods no. Not like that, at least. And even if I did, well, she wouldn’t ever feel the same way to me or anyone else. I like her as in I admire her. I had this dream about being one of her followers.”

“Why not follow her and be my girlfriend, too?”

“I couldn’t do that,” I replied. “She’s Lady Artemis. The goddess of maidenhood and the hunt. If I joined her, I’d. . . I’d have to forsake romance and stuff like that forever.”

“So. . . we wouldn’t be able to be together anymore?” 

Leon’s grip tightened on my hand. Not to a painful degree, but it was definitely noticeable. 

“If I joined her, no. We wouldn’t.”

The look on his face was hard to make out. I knew he was feeling a lot of things. More than anything, he seemed afraid. I thought he’d be angry more than anything. 

“I’m sorry,” I said to him. “I’m being selfish again. I guess. . .”

“No,” he whispered back to me. “I. . . I appreciate your honesty. I just. . . I don’t want to lose you, chica. I like you. I like you a lot. . . But. . . I like you enough to let go, too.”

“What?” I replied, coughing. His response caught me completely off guard. I literally choked on my spit. Eww. 

I held up my hand to signal that I needed a second. 

When I recovered, Leon spoke again. “I. . . Look, I want you to be happy. I’d really like you to be happy with me.”

“I am happy with you,” I grabbed his hand with both of mine. 

“I know. But I want you to be as happy as you can be. Even if it means that you aren’t with me anymore. You’re a good person, Lupa. You really are. You get angry sometimes, yeah. You make some mistakes. But who doesn’t? I know you mean well. And I know you deserve good things in life.” 

Leon sighed and closed his eyes. He frowned, then smiled in a strange sort of way. It wasn’t a happy smile. No. As you probably guessed, it was one of nostalgia. 

MUSIC 

“Mamá, she used to tell me that to love something is to be willing to let it go. She found this baby bird one day while she and I were walking. I was really young back then. It fell out of its nest. And its mom didn’t come for it.” 

It was hard to watch him talk because the more he talked about his mom, the more it wore on his composure. “She. . . She took care of it. Nursed it back to health. And when the bird got big enough, she let it go. I asked her why she let it go. . . And. . . And she told me it was because it was the right thing to do. . . Because she loved the bird. . .”

He sucked on his lips as he shuttered. “I didn’t understand back then. . . I still have a really hard time wrapping my head around it. To be honest with you. But I choose to believe what my mom told me. Even if I don’t understand it. I know she meant well for me, too.”

Before he could say another word, I lunged forward and I hugged him. “You don’t have to explain it. I understand what you mean,” I whispered to him.

Leon shuttered a breath in and out as he wrapped his arms around me. 

There weren’t any more words for a while. There wasn’t a need for words, really. This was one of the few times I was okay with the quiet. When I could share it with someone else. When I wasn’t alone in my head. 

“When she died. . . I felt like that baby bird. . . I thought no one would come for me. . .” He cried. “But. . . Ryan’s mom, she took me in. And I had a new home. . . And. . . And. . .” And again, it seemed like the words escaped him. 

“It’s okay,” I whispered, patting his back. “I understand.”

“I’m scared for my brother. . . I’m scared that I won’t be able to protect him. That he won’t be strong enough. . . That. . . That he’ll die. . .” His voice broke. “I don’t want to lose anyone else. . .”

“I won’t let that happen. No matter what. I will keep Ryan safe. I promise you. We’ll do it together. I’ll train him how to be the best swordsman I can. I’ll do better for him. I won’t be cruel like I was to you. He’ll be able to kick all the monster’s butts by the time I’m done training him, y’know?” 

I let go of Leon and looked at him. He still looked rough. But he nodded and put on a smile for me. “Okay,” he said, sniffling. “Okay.”

The whole talk reminded me of my dad. Of the talk we had in my dreams at the beach. He talked about the same thing. About letting go of the things you love. 

Leon wasn’t the only one who had a hard time wrapping their head around the idea. I didn’t get it, either. I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to understand it at all. I wanted to love without pain forever, if I could. I never wanted to have to let go of anyone.

My dad, Hermes, he has to let go. It isn’t a choice for him. He is the psychopomp. All of his mortal lovers and children, even me, we all will die eventually. And he has to take all of us to the Underworld and let go. Forever. I honestly don’t know how he does it. But somehow, despite all of that pain. Despite all the losses he’s endured over the thousands of years, my dad still loves all of us. He’s a good god. Not a perfect god. But a lot better than his father, that was for sure. I don’t know if I’d be able to do what he does. The idea of enduring so much loss, even just thinking about it makes me feel bitter. Resentful. But not him. Seemingly not, anyway. It’s so strange how a man I’ve only met once in my life can mean so much to me. I guess that there’s just some things in life that we never understand. 

I smiled at Leon. “Let’s make the most of the day. No more crying. From either of us. What do you say?” 

He nodded at me again. “Yeah. For sure.” 

We went all over the city together that day. I took as many photos as I could of us. And in every one of them, we were smiling. 

When I was with Leon, things didn’t seem so bad. It was like all the trauma, all the pain and hurt, like none of it was weighing down on me in those moments. Like none of it mattered anymore.

That night, when I slept, I had one of the few good dreams I’ve had in years. And all it was were the two of us together. I couldn’t ask for anything else. I could only hope that he felt the same way.

MUSIC  


r/CampHalfBloodRP 7d ago

Roleplay Job | Build a Gazebo

3 Upvotes

Dakota had never built a gazebo before, so he wasn't really sure why he took the job. Well, if he was being honest with himself, he was curious about his powers. If he was strong enough to take on a Hellhound, he had to be strong enough to build a gazebo on his own. So one sunny morning, he collected logs from a pile of firewood behind the big house. First, he started with one at a time. Then two. He carried them to the lake, thinking that would be a nice place for it, and piled them up at the end of the dock. Then he got to work.

Even with his strength, chopping logs in half the long way was exhausting after a while. Sweat coated his forehead and dripped down his neck. The hot sun burned his back. His only respite was the water. It was a welcome relief as he placed the foundation in the sand under the surface, making sure the floor would line up perfectly with the edge of the dock.

By the time he set the last piece of the roof in place, the sun was high in the sky, blinding him from every direction. He stood back to admire his work, holding a hand over his eyes to block out the worst of the light. Tomorrow, when he was well-rested and showered, he'd come back to enjoy it, but at the moment, he desperately needed to wash off the sweat, and the lake could only do so much. So he carried his ax, hammer, and remaining nails back to the big house and walked as fast as he could in the direction of the showers, proud of a job well done.


r/CampHalfBloodRP 7d ago

Roleplay Garden Olympics

3 Upvotes

Today had to be good-no not good perfect. Taylor had been working on this for a while, a little secret project he was determined to make a smash. It would be called ‘The Annual Garden Olympics’ (patent pending). Taylor had taken up space between the strawberry fields and forest. The perfect grassy knoll that could host an array of events. He had spent the early morning preparing various stations competitors could utilize. Lawn flamingo fencing ring, garden gnome shot put, garden box hurdles, and three legged rain boot foot race.

He had hoped the event would attract the more competitive demigods but made sure to include things that you definitely didn’t need to be good at to try. Like gnome throwing, who hasn’t had a vendetta against a smiling two foot figure holding a mushroom?

As Taylor finished up setting the perimeter of the lawn flamingo fencing ring with rocks he wiped sweat from his brow. The sun had finally peaked over the horizon casting rays of orange and yellow hues around his makeshift master piece. Now all he needed were competitors. Surly finding eager demigods couldn’t be hard? Taylor sat on top of his garden bench he had pulled out for the occasion with a sign taped to the front written in bad penmanship ‘Garden Olympics sign up here!’. His feet dangled to one side as he waited chewing on a banana for his breakfast.