Yes. You read that right. Greece has fallen...or at least the camp that has catered to Greek demigods for over three millennia has fallen. Camp Half-Blood had a traitor in their midst. A traitor with powerful allies who quickly burned the camp to the ground. Some were lost, some killed, and the rest who remained began the long trek across the country to the only place where they might be safe: Camp Jupiter.
Chiron banded what campers they had left, told them of the other camp and sent word to Camp Jupiter pleading for shelter. Chaos now threatens the camp daily with the arrival of new Greek campers to this foreign camp. This camp with strange customs and rules. While on the Roman end the Praetors are forced to hold up a balancing act of providing sanctuary while also trying to find the traitor before their home suffers the same fate as Camp Half-Blood.
New alliances are forged, new enemies are made, and these two worlds have to find some way to work together for the future of them all. Which side are you on? Which position will you take? It's time to jump in the fray because Greece has fallen.
ANNOUNCEMENT
Welcome to our site! We are so glad you are here my friend. Pull up a seat, set your weapons down and let's chat. We are a non-canon, percy jackson RP site based in Camp Jupiter. Both Greek and Roman demigods allowed. Legacies are limited. We have a very small word requirement for posting and we're pretty relaxed around here. We like drama but not the RL kind so keep this place nice and friendly. If you've got questions don't hesitate to ask!
GHF is the product of the mind of Addi; inspired by the percy jackson and heroes of olympus series by rick riordian. this is a work of fiction. names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. several beautiful remodels (including mini profile, profile) were designed by deltra of gangnam style and edited by Haya to fit the site's concept and needs. most images and gifs used for the skin are taken from assassins creed, the percy jackson movies and various google finds. all contents are copyright to their original owners. all characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. all images are copyright to their original owners. if you see an image/gif which is yours and you would like us to specifically credit you or remove it please do not hesitate to let us know in the cbox with a link.
Nadja had just left the most amazing bathing experience in her entire life. She would always have Greek bias, but she had to give it to the Romans: they perfected the art of the bath. There were private areas filled with frothy and steamy water that remarkably stayed at the perfect temperature throughout the whole bath. The walls allowed the most exemplary acoustics so she could sing as if she was on a stage. Then the baths themselves held jars upon jars of fragrances and perfumes to add to the water as well as plush bath towels when one was finished.
She had spent well over an hour in the calming waters, scrubbing and pampering herself from head to toe. She had changed into her softest pajamas that revealed perhaps a little too much to be walking around freely in camp with. Tugging on a silk robe to add a bit of modesty to her clothes she finally exited the tepidarium well past time for bed.
The Romans tended to stick to a schedule as if it was gospel and she wasn't surprised to see that everything around her was dark. There were no lights on in the Mess Hall. Nor was there anyone hanging around the Praetoria except for two guards who didn't pay her any mind. Unfortunately, that also meant that there were also no lights alighting the way to her barrack. Nadja hadn't minded though, the camp was quiet and peaceful this late at night. The stars were the only lights shining down and she had a pleased smile on her lips as she made it into the barracks.
She walked along the pathway between bunks, heading towards the one she knew was hers. There were soft snores here and there as she stopped at her bunk. Only, there was a body already inside of her covers. She glanced around, assuming that perhaps she had counted wrong but no. This bed should have been hers. Nadja moved to the next bunk to ask the girl who slept across from her what was going on when she realized it was not her, but a boy. Nadja then quickly realized that she was not in her bunk at all, but instead in one of the Roman ones.
She muttered a very unfeminine word before slowly making her way back out the way she came. She silently prayed that none of the Romans would wake up before she could make her exit. Three more bunks to go and she saw the door stand before her. As her eyes moved back to the path though, they landed upon a sleeping form. Nadja came to an abrupt halt as she saw him, his name coming out of her lips in the barest of a whisper, "Mikhael". The demigod who she had been prepared to die for. The boy who had sulked into her life and stole every inch of her heart.
Her eyes softened, she found a soft smile on her lips. He made it. He fought his way out of the casino. She should have known of course. She should have bet on him, but it had seemed impossible. It had seemed insurmountable. Yet here he was. Laying in a bed, asleep and safe right before her very eyes. She gently laid her hand against his cheek. Her thumb softly caressing him.
[attr="class","THREAD1CONTENT"] I’ll be right behind you.
He stood still, facing the corridor in front of him. There was the sound of laughter and chatter coming from the door further down the hall but her voice would always be the loudest in the room. He heard her say the same phrase over and over again. … right behind you. Yet, he knew, once he turned around she would not be there. She would not be right behind him. Her voice, no matter how innocent and sweet and oh so full of love would always betray him. Every time he would turn, holding on to that last string of hope to see her again… and every time that string was cut shorter and shorter. Now, barely a thread, he still held on to it.
Every dream was the same. It would always be about her. He would always dream of her. But what once started as dreams filled with hope and love, desire and worry, was now a nightmare fueled by hatred and bitterness. First, he dreamed of holding her close to him as they did when they needed to survive the cold. There was a time, even if it was brief, where he had to rely on her wicked powers to make it through the night. He hated it. He hated all about it. He hated her.
Now, he couldn’t even fathom what it would be like to embrace her with his love. If he could… if only he could get a second chance to meet Nadja again, he would run to her as fast as his long limbs would carry him. The scene was scripted to perfection in his head, playing over and over again until he was satisfied with the ending. He imagined wrapping his arms around her, around the curves of her body, absorbing the warmth radiating from her skin. He would hold her, closely, with no intentions of ever letting her go again… and then he would crush her.
I’ll be right behind you.
Lies.
He turned, icy eyes wide open, only to see darkness. Mikhael had lost count of the nights he would have the same dream. He knew what was next, what came after the darkness. Emptiness. His eyes closed involuntarily. He had no control over the events of the dream or his body. The sound of laughter faded, her voice faded, and the only thing that remained was silence. Then he fell.
Mikhael had experienced this often enough to not wake with a start. Something else surprised him instead - the warm skin against his cheek. A touch so soft and gentle… and familiar. It couldn’t be. Surely, it was remains of the dream. The laughing was replaced by snoring and breathing. He slowly opened his eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the darkness inside the barracks, thinking the feel of her hand against his skin would fade alongside the noises. It didn’t.
He sat up, staring in disbelief at the face he had just dreamed about a second ago. Fascinated, calm, in trance. His eyes wandered over her face, taking in the sight of it… of her. Perhaps the dream never ended. Perhaps he was still stuck. Maybe he just needed to turn around once more. Lifting his hand, he brushed his calloused palm against the soft skin of her temple. And then he realized… this wasn’t a dream.
In a second, he caught the wrist that belonged to Nadja and yanked her towards him with a snarl. Like a wild animal, like a wolf, he growled at her, baring his teeth as his features distorted in disgust at the sight of her. He grabbed a handful of the fabric of her gown, the other hand closing around her throat. "You..." he snapped, scrunching the cloth in his hand.
His second chance was finally here. This was the moment he had always dreamed about. Finally, he was given the opportunity to take revenge. Finally… he was holding her again.
Nadja's eyes ran over his face. Gods, he had gotten more handsome. It seemed entirely unfair yet here he was. She could smell his scent and she let herself breathe it in deeply. It was the same scent that she had clung to after waking up in Camp Half-Blood. She hadn't wanted to wash her shirt, it had been saturated with the only remnants she had of him. The product of snuggling close for far too little of a time than what she would have liked with him. His arm had been draped over hers, for purely survival reasons of course, at least that's what he had insisted it be called. She missed it. She missed him.
His eyes met hers and she smiled. He seemed to still be waking from his slumber, his body sitting up slowly. She resisted the urge to throw her arms around him, perhaps hop inside of his bed and let her body do what her words couldn't relay. She knew him better than that though. The big, burly Roman with his just as large sense of propriety might have passed out if she attempted something like that.
Mikhael slowly raised his hand, his skin touching hers and Nadja could only close her eyes as he made contact. She moved her head gently into his touch, missing the feel of his hands on her. Gods, she had died and gone to Elysium. Nadja had never felt such joy. Then it had all gone to Hades.
He grabbed her wrist sharply, forcing her body to jump, her eyes to widen slightly. "Mikhael? Mikhael it's me…" He emitted a sound that made a shiver run down her spine and she tried to pull her hand back from his grip. "Please…Mikahael you're…hurting me." She hadn't had the chance to do much more as he moved his grip from her wrist to her gown. She barely uttered a whimper before his other hand closed around her throat.
Nadja struggled, her mouth forming a perfect O as panic began seizing her. Her mind tried to make sense of what was going on. He would quit. He would stop. He would see it was her and relent. Her thoughts screaming that none of this made sense. The pressure on her throat increased. He was going to kill her, the thought chilling her to her bones.
Nadja closed her eyes, her oxygen deprived brain slowly beginning to shut down. She reached out with her powers, sensing the innerworkings of his body. She carefully drew the blood from his brain, not enough to knock him out, but enough to slow him. She urged the melatonin to flood his system, making him feel as if he was in a fog. Her powers begging his body to relent and obey her command.
[attr="class","THREAD1CONTENT"] Nadja. Nadja. Nadja Mikhael had dreamed about this very moment so often. He still wasn’t sure whether or not he was still dreaming but it felt so real. As his hand closed around her throat, rough fingertips pressed against the soft skin of her tender neck, he could feel the warmth of her body. In his dreams, she had always been cold as ice. Something had always been off about the whole picture of her, his memories failing him ever so often as the confusion brought by the stay inside the casino manipulated his mind.
Upon hearing his name his gaze locked on hers once more, stormy eyes never leaving hers. The corners of his lips were curled up into a violent, almost animal-like snarl as he bared his teeth at her. It had almost sounded like a joke to him. Her words. Hurting her? Ha. All he could think of was that Nadja deserved to get hurt just like she hurt him. "Graecus…" Mikhael growled, his voice deep and slightly husky from just waking up. But he was wide awake, taking in the image of her in the poorly lit room. His vision had turned entirely tunnel and Nadja was the only person he was seeing at that moment.
As he looked at her, stared… glared, the blond wondered if he had ever really been in love with this woman. Was it true? Or was it just one of her tricks? Had she deliberately bewitched him with her magic? The more he thought about it the angrier he became, applying more pressure on his grip around her throat. It was a satisfying feeling, that feeling of revenge. Perhaps the goddess had influenced him but he couldn’t stop. Finally, after all these months.
Suddenly he felt tired, the strength from him draining, his arms starting to feel a little numb. He let go of Nadja, dropping his arms and flopping back against the headrest of his bunk. The brunette on the side of his bed started swaying, her image shifting from one side to the other. Mikhael blinked a few times, pressing his eyelids together hard. He was feeling dizzy, a little nauseous, everything appeared to slightly move under him and around him.
"Traitor…" he muttered under his breath, swallowing and shaking his head before dragging his gaze back towards Nadja. His lips contorted into a grim smile when he looked at her. He couldn’t help himself but think that even in this state of mind she was enchantingly beautiful. And, oh, how he would like to dig his nails into that beautiful face of hers. His hands were buried in his short, blond hair. He hated thinking of her like this... still thinking of her like this. He hated himself almost as much as he hated her for just these thoughts.
When he finally managed to regain a clear head, the dizziness slowly coming to an end, he swung his long legs over the edge of his bed and stood. He held out his arm, his hand closing into a fist in front of her as if to gesture that he wanted to get her throat once more. Mikhael glances around the barracks, the other legionnaires keeping unusually quiet. He figured they were either ignoring it or didn’t notice the intruder.
His attention went back to Nadja. "I’ve waited a long time for you," he grunted, spitting out the words with pure hatred.
Had it not been for the searing pain that tore at her throat, Nadja would have wondered if she had passed out. Perhaps hit her head on a metal bunk in the barrack and was now having some sort of horrific nightmare. This was no dream though. He was so near, his body so close to hers that all she wanted to do was throw her arms around him and bury her face into him, into that scent that had haunted her thoughts for utterly too long. His body was so near, but he felt so far away. Because this man who had her throat in his grip was not her Mikhael.
Her eyes pleaded with his as the tears came. His features were unrelenting, cruelness and rage burning behind his eyes. No, this vengeful creature of hatred was not her Mikhael. She wasn't even sure he was human as he snarled at her. Was this some sort of test? Was this a Roman apparition or illusion? This could not be the same boy who had saved her. This could not be the same boy who she had laughed and fallen in love with. That word that she loathed came from his lips, Greacus. His strong hands squeezed harder and she realized with absolute clarity that he was going to kill her. This thing. This shell of the person who she had known.
Dots danced in front of her vision, like fireworks to a show that she would never get to see. Her head swam as she tried desperately to push his hands from her throat. Her hand pressed against his chest, feebly trying to push him away but her strength had left her. So she had lashed out with her powers. Pulling every ounce of strength and focus she had left to make him tired and dizzy. She would not die like this. Nadja found herself praying, begging and pleading silently as she adjusted the chemicals in his brain, her hand making contact with his body, forcing his to relent to hers.
In an instant, he loosened his hands from her, his body falling back onto his bed. Nadja inhaled oxygen, her throat burning as a cough racked its way out. She instinctively moved away from her attacker, her legs giving out as she slipped off the bed and fell to the floor. Her body was trembling as adrenaline ran rampant through system. She sat back on her knees, trying to pull herself together. She never was very good at tailoring herself. She should run, she knew that. She should perhaps find someone who could help, who could apprehend this imposter, this vile monster who had attacked her. His voice broke through her thoughts as he called her a traitor.
Confusion filled her features as she glanced at him. "Traitor? What are you talking about?" Her voice was soft, almost pleading, a feeling that was utterly foreign to her but none of this was making any sense. He stood up then, his arm reaching forward before he clenched his fist. Nadja had backed up from him as he continued to address her. She didn't dare take her eyes off of his. It truly was him. This was no trick, at least not an illusion. He was truly here and he had actually attacked her. Nadja felt a burning wave of indignation flare in her.
She stood carefully, wobbling only slightly as she did, leveling her gaze at him. "How dare you call me a traitor. I saved your life and your only thanks is to attempt to end mine?" Her words were laced with fire as she stood before him. She was well aware that her robe was somewhere near or under the other side of his bed, and that she stood in the middle of his barrack in nothing more than lace and sheer fabric but she could not manage a care for any of that.
He towered over her, but there was no fear anymore in her eyes. "Is it them? Is that why you're acting like a psychopath?" She motioned towards the sleeping forms that were nearby without daring to take her eyes off of his. "You get back to your precious Romans and suddenly I'm the enemy once more? You really do have more brawn than brain." The humor was nowhere on her face as she regarded him, unrelenting against his wall of fury that threatened to burn here where she stood.
[attr="class","THREAD1CONTENT"] Mikhael’s head lolled to the side as he looked at her drop to the floor onto her knees. It was a scene he had seen in his dreams before. She would be on her knees, begging him for forgiveness, pleading and pleading for him to accept it. In his dreams, he would laugh at her futile attempts to regain his favor but in his nightmares… it was in his nightmares where he would drop to his knees himself, so he could hold her hands, pull her closer, tell her it was alright. He was alright. Clearly, he was not. He would never be.
Letting out a groan as he pushed himself over the bed, head still slightly feeling too heavy for his shoulders to hold. But he knew it would go away, this feeling, this curse she had laid upon him. No matter how much she wanted to doubt it… she was a witch after all. His eyes were filled with anger and hatred as he looked at her, down there on the floor, playing and pretending to be the victim in all of this. "Playacting!" he spat out, his voice stoic and cold.
He shook his head at the brunette, feeling the urge to laugh at her and the situation itself but he kept quiet, only a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Saved my life?" he repeated after her in utter disbelief, the words like acid on his tongue. It was then that he did laugh out loud, his head falling into his hands. How dare she act as if she was the one saving his life when all she did was the opposite. "You put me into Hades! Is that what you Greeks consider saving a life?" For a year he was stuck, trapped, inside a monster’s hotel. Perhaps she needed to go there herself to see, to know that it certainly was not a pleasant vacation spot.
A pillow came flying through the air, hitting him on his back. A clear sign to tell him to take his business elsewhere and out of the barracks filled with sleeping demigods. For a long moment he stared at her, blue eyes searching for something in her face… or maybe they just wanted to take in the image of her. His gaze wandered down and even in the dim-lit room, he could see her body curving under these flimsy, thin robes of hers. Immediately, he pulled his gaze away, thoughts he did not wish to think creeping into his head.
One year ago he might have wanted… her. Maybe, just maybe, he still did but he couldn’t. She sputtered something about him being a psychopath and his train of thoughts was cut off the rails. Mikhael stood, rising to his feet in front of her. He jabbed a finger at the entrance of the barracks. "Out. Now," he demanded, words sharp and short. He pulled on his purple camp t-shirt before stomping outside barefoot.
He didn’t glance back to see if she followed. His arms were at his sides, muscles strained as he balled his hands into fists. He then turned, glaring at her. "You have always been the enemy," he snarled at her, crossing his arms over his chest to keep them from doing anything else. "You lied to me, tricked me into this prison. Without those precious Romans I would still be trapped in there. And yet you say you saved my life? You’re nothing more than an imposter. You’re a witch. A Graecus." Still, he was foolish enough to have fallen for her anyway.
Nadja heard a groan leave his lips, knowing the effect of her powers were taking a toll on his system. The push against him had been strong, but it had to be. The monster who looked like her romaïkós, her Mikhael, had been hades-bent upon taking her life. She had to do what she did out of reflex not fun. He accused her of playacting and a humorless laugh left her lips before she retorted back, anger filling every word. "And what of the bruises? Are they pretend as well?" She didn't want to think of what her neck looked like. The pain was a constant throbbing ache that ebbed and flowed along with her pulse. She was terrible at tailoring herself, but even if she could she wouldn't dare. Not at the moment. Not when she might still need to defend herself against this monster creature that wore her Mikhael's face.
Nadja had stood up, bracing herself against another attack, but he seemed to be restraining himself. She feared that perhaps he didn't remember. That maybe he had forgotten her or worse, that something horribly nefarious was wrong. Perhaps this was a twin? But no. It was him. It was her Mikhael, laughing bitterly as if it was an insinuation that she had saved his life.
Nadja was thoroughly bewildered as she watched him then heartily laugh, as if she had told the world's most hilarious joke. She took a step forward, her hand hovering in the air, intending to touch him, "Gods, I think you might be concussed." Genuine concern filled her features as her hand remained aloft. Then he spoke. Causing her to freeze.
Hades? She felt that was a bit extreme. Sure, it wasn't ideal, but it wasn't as if she had her pick of where to stow him to keep him safe from the retribution of the literal goddess of retribution. She hadn't thought that she was going to make it out alive, she had wanted him to at least have a fighting chance though. He was strong. He was a Roman, her romaïkós for gods sakes, if anyone could make it out of the Lotus, it would be her Mikhael. She hadn't done it maliciously, it had been to save his life. To give him what she knew he would have given her if he had seen the goddess first. "No, it wasn't ideal, but-"
The solid form of a pillow landed on his back, interrupting her speech and Nadja paused, like a deer caught in headlights as his eyes caught hers before traveling the length of her. Did he not remember? All of the laughter next to the fire. The countless times they saved one another. The feel of her hand in his. Could he truly not care? Gods she hadn't thought that she had been sending him on holiday, but surely it wasn't worth erasing all of what they shared. He ordered her out and she followed, not bothering to grab the ruined robe that lay next to his bed.
The moment they made it outside of the barrack he turned to her, fist balled and she instinctively flinched, her hand coming up to shield another attack. Thankfully, it was only a verbal assault he was after and Nadja listened, her hands dropping as she shook her head, protesting the moment he called her the enemy. "I'm not. I've never been your enemy Mikhael." Nadja crossed her arms in front of her, irritation seeping in just the slightest, "Have you forgotten that it was your people who chained me up for no reason? Your people who would have gladly let me die simply because I wasn't one of you."
He crossed his arms as well and she was sure that they looked like the picture definition of stubbornness and iron-will as they regarded one another. He spoke up then, the words causing her heart to break. He couldn't say her name. He could utter nothing more than calling her that terrible slur that she loathed so very much. She hurt him, that was obviously clear, but surely he had to know that wasn't her intention. Nadja's face filled with solace and as she spoke, the words were soft and pleading. "I'm sorry you were trapped. I'm sorry that you were alone in that place. It wasn't my intention to hurt you. Please Mikael…" Her eyes pleaded with his.
"I saw her. Nemesis. She appeared between the two large buildings, near the breakfast place that we stopped at. Do you remember?" The barest hint of a smile came to her lips as she thought about that meal. As she remembered his laugh and how she had mercilessly made fun of him because he had never had a waffle before. "She appeared and I knew that if you saw her, you would fight her. I knew that you wouldn't let her harm me. I knew that you would have fought until you died and I couldn't let that happen." A tear ran down her cheek as she continued. "I couldn't see you hurt or killed and so yes, I tricked you. I knew that you would be safe inside. I knew that you'd live and I'm sorry that it happened to you, but I would make that choice again and again if it meant that you were safe and alive."
Ave, demigod! Over the next month, all new threads created may be attacked by the Fates at any time, unless specified in the subheader. All random events will be based on prompts from the randomizer. Please refer to the event guide #2 for further and more detailed information about your character's possible fate.
GHF is the product of the mind of addi; inspired by the percy jackson and heroes of olympus series by rick riordian.
this is a work of fiction. names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
several beautiful remodels (including mini profile, profile) were designed by deltra of gangnam style and edited by haya to fit the site's concept and needs.
most images and gifs used for the skin are taken from assassins creed, the percy jackson movies and various google finds.
all contents are copyright to their original owners. all characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. all images are copyright to their original owners.
if you see an image/gif which is yours and you would like us to specifically credit you or remove it please do not hesitate to let us know in the cbox with a link.
