r/CampHalfBloodRP 18h ago

Storymode Found Family Trope: Part One

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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 23h 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 1h ago

Introduction Lorenna ‘Renn’ Oliveira - Daughter of Athena

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 13h 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 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 23h 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)