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.
"Ah, Gills, this is going to be fun. Let me tell you, I think you and I will be betting again soon, that's how much fun I think you'll have."
Watching the crowd, the horses, the drivers, the aides, the entire big picture... That was the easy part. Sure, Erik didn't have the aid of a talking horse to figure out who was nervous and who was calm, but perhaps he didn't need to. After all, finding the perfect mark is just the flipped side of the coin from finding the hardest target. So Erik scanned, looking for anything that might tip him off.
And that's when he noticed Mila subtly moved her bright blondie hair with three fingers up. No, she was going with the Green Sword Romans? That was Erik's first last choice! But she had a good eye; that sword looked like trouble. Not only that, but considering how close she was with her own steed, and the heritage she claimed, it would make sense she could listen to the horse too...
Fortunately, Erik Flynn wasn't about to flounder out because of a scary looking piece of divine metal, or the opinions of a horse.
Instead, the young man adjusted his glasses, lifted them up for a moment, and scratched his eye... All with just one finger. Should be obvious enough, but sometimes things get lost in translation. The cart chosen by the son of Hermes was... Well...
How do I say this nicely?
It was... really unique.
This cart, decorated in the traditional colors of the Hephaestus cabin of the Greeks, looked like it had been used to trek across the country by pioneers. It was rusty, old, the wheels looked less like wheels and more like squares, and even looking at it caused it to creak with age. The driver, however, had an air of confidence around him, and the horse at the fore was also rather calm on the outside; Orieus might have mentioned to Mila this horse was incredulous that the chariot would even move, let alone compete.
All in all, to the common eye, this chariot seemed destined for failure. But Erik Flynn was a professional gambler, right? Was this a mind game? Or was he rigging his choice so Mila would win?
Suppose time will tell, as the race's beginning drew nearer and nearer... .
Erik Flynn locked eyes with the forge god's daughter, a big, bright smile growing on his face. If Erik Flynn was the legendary thief, then Elise was the marvelous inventor of traps, dangers and (of course) treasures beyond mortal understanding. This box was the product of one of the last heists Erik pulled before Camp Half-Blood was razed, and strangely enough...
That meant something to him.
"Elise Quill, in the flesh! I have to say I am EXTREMELY glad you made it all the way out here, it'll give me something else to do. I MEAN it'll be so nice to see a friendly face in a crowd of strangers."
Erik smirked, and he caught the box in the height of the toss, and placed it gently down on the work-bench. "Gotta say, El, this does take me back to Camp. You remember the giant head you and the Hephaestus cabin made? That was a hard steal, being honest. Or the time Apollo cabin asked you to fix their Karaoke machine, and then I stole it? Hahaha, that one was a good laugh."
Erik grabbed a nearby knife, hanging about, and tossed it, aimlessly. "Tried stealing from the Vulcan kids, it's just not the same. They make weapons, or armor, or both at the same time. How many times does one steal a gold spear before the glamour fades you realize you're just holding something that can be replaced in the blink of an eye?"
Erik pointed at the cube, "But this thing... There's nothing else like it in all of New Rome. I'm lucky to have it!"
"Ah yes! I suppose we can start at the best place to start for all job offers; introductions."
An extended hand, although the young blonde didn't expect the handshake to be returned. After a moment, he would awkwardly (or pretend awkwardly) move his arm back, laughing a bit sheepishly. "Ahem, the name's Erik Flynn! Lucky son of Hermes, Greek Refuge, and your future employer. Potentially. Pleased to meet you, Centurion." A bit of a faux-bow was attempted, albeit with the chair the way it was, it was stiff and cut very short.
"Ah, an interviewee with questions and concerns! Just the initiative I was looking for in my future position. See, Miss, my brothers and sisters here-"
Erik watched as Stella would show off a bit more of her skillset; an orb of darkness, and an orb of light, before they dispersed with little effort. Erik grinned, pointing wildly and muttering, "That's it, that's perfect, oh they'll love that!"
A moment of awkward silence.
"...Ahem."
Erik adjusted his suit jacket and continued. "See, I've been assigned to deal with a difficult... issue, we'll say. And while my skills can normally more than handle it on my own, this year it needs a bit less... subtlety. It needs panache, a bit of excitement, a dash of danger!"
A gentle point at Stella. "That's why I need you, magic maestro! Your skill with flames, orbs of dark and light, they fit in perfect with my master scheme, I mean plan! It'll solve the issue handily and the Greeks will owe you Romans another major favor... Which might be something your Praetors may want to cash in on at some point."
"Elise, the thing I stole from you broke. Meet at Armory, fix it please."
This was the note that the daughter of Hephaestus would find on her bunk in Camp Jupiter one fine afternoon. It was clear that, despite the lack of a name at the end, there could only be one man bold enough to proclaim he stole an item, and then request the person he stole it from to fix it after it stopped working. Only one, and he was infamous amongst all of Camp Half-Blood for crap like this.
The one and only, Erik Flynn, son of Hermes and living, breathing proof that the God of Messengers and Roads was also the God of thieves.
And so Erik waited, tossing a strange cube like contraption up and down in the air, catching it seamlessly every time. Was Elise late? Would she be early? Hades if Erik knew, he just wanted the funny object he swiped under heavy guard to work again. What good's a trophy if it's supposed to work and doesn't? .
"Well you see, Aves, here the thing, I'm sure you'll understand since you're my sister and you've got a good wit; Legionaries... are not smart. At all. They're like their big old bull buddy; really slow to think and really quick to bash your face in."
Erik scoffed at the Legionaries would quickly leave, underwear still adorned on their heads for the world to see. The young child of Hermes was very, VERY vocal about his distaste for the Jupiter folk; it didn't stop his taking their coin for betting (coin is coin, whether it's drachma or the vastly inferior denarii) or being semi-grateful for their taking the Greek refugees in (even though a liar like him could tell the smiles were forced). Still, the Romans did not impress Erik with their discipline; Hades below, it may have left the opposite impression.
"Well, Aves, looks like I've got to make sure I don't pass out for a week when I go super speed, and you... figure out the whole swords thing, then we can start my master plan." A moment's pause before a slight groan from the "younger" brother. "You don't remember the master plan? OK, it's the one where we'll rally the Hermes cabin, kill the traitor, you get the date, I get the gold, we fix the Camp and show off to the Romans. Y'know, typical Tuesday night quest." Erik would flash his sister a wide smile as he slipped out a notebook in an instant. "That would make the scoreboard Half-Blood 59, Camp Jupiter -17."
Ah, yes. What's not to love.
Erik would open his mouth to continue when he stopped, almost mid word. Suddenly, an idea seemed to spark in Erik's eyes; a no good, evil little brother sort of idea, the ones siblings tend to fear. "Avery, speaking of winning, aren't you dating someone? Is it someone we know? When are you gonna introduce them to the Cabin, Aves? We all wanna meet the lucky charmer who swooped you off your feet."
OH NO, YOUR FAMILY IS ASKING ABOUT YOUR DATING LIFE!!! RUN AVERY RUN!!!!!! .
Another night, another prowl across the massive Camp Jupiter. After all, this was way bigger than the grounds for Half Blood back east, and Erik Flynn needed an opportunity to figure out the best holes, secret entrances, side alleys and much, much more if he was gonna compete with those Mercury kids. In fact, this early evening walk had him investigating an area around the Fourth Cohort's barracks; perhaps not the safest place for a child of the god of thieves to be...
But what's a little risk to a demigod?
Peeking through a nearby window, Erik found himself watching a girl, roughly his age or a bit younger, attempting to control a flame... with her hand. No matches, no torch, just pure hand skills. Or was it magic? Could be either, with the Cohorts being all mixed, you never really know who's the kid of who. Erik watched her gently move the fire to both of her hands, staring deeply into it. Wait, was this kind of creepy? It definitely was suspicious. Well...
Time to introduce himself, he supposed.
Stella, in a matter of seconds, would feel a sudden gust of wind come by from nowhere, and now suddenly there was a decently dressed young man (as in, dress coat over the orange t-shirt), sitting in a backwards chair, resting his arms on the top, breathing rather heavily. He panted for a few moments, raising a finger before he could get his breath back.
"...Ah, much... better. Now, excuse me, miss, but I couldn't help but see your incredible pyrokinesis from a window as I passed by, and I was wondering if you'd be interested in a... sort of job offer? You'd be rolling in denarii and drachma should you accept."
"Nah, I got the wonderful ability to perceive where I go when I go fast. Downside is that if I go fast for too long, I pass out for several days. Not healthy in the long run, Gills. Not healthy at all."
Erik did laugh a bit at the idea though; he'd seen some of his siblings run head first into a wall and need a day or two in the medical tent. Man was Erik glad good old Dad gave him a slightly different power set. Then again, did Dad give it to his kids? Oooor was it random chance upon birth, like a game of roulette or dice?
The second thought sounded more appealing, not gonna lie.
"Ha! You assume I'd have the capital to make sure you don't lose your wagering money. Which I do, you guessed correctly. Flynn Family policy to make sure first time betters get their money back; makes them want to come back for mo- I mean, enjoy the experience!" Erik followed up his very witty change of words with a small laugh, in between chewing.
Lowering his voice a bit, Erik's grin was nearly falling off his face, and his voice lowered considerably. "Well I suppose I'll make sure to fleece the Romans a good bit less so we can stick around for next years games. And trust me, a good chariot race with you at the helm? We'd win, fair and square. We wouldn't even need any of the special tricks we had installed in the RoadMaster 2000!"
Erik shuffled in a bag hanging off his shoulder and produced a small pouch, making sounds of metal hitting metal. Perhaps coins? "Actually... How about a wager now, Ref Gills? Pick a chariot, I'll pick another, winner gets this bag of denarii/drachma and bragging rights. No interference, obviously. What do you say?"
"After all, would be a very impressive claim to say you beat a Son of Hermes in a fair gamble."
"Whaaaaaat? No, Aves, I'm pretty sure you're at least 3 months older than me, which 100% makes you the big sister I never knew I wanted."
Erik pointed at some of the other Hermes cabin, and motioned with his head at the whiteboard. "I'm taking 5, don't steal the bets." A chorus of "Yes!" mingled with "Oh come on!" rang out from the young demigods as they continued their betting ring. Erik, smiling wide, fought the urge to pretend-wipe a fake tear from his eye; it was beautiful.
"No, Aves, that's why I asked you; if anyone knew outside money exchange it should be yo- Ah, don't worry about it, I'll do some math later." Erik waved a hand nonchalantly before turning, an amused look on his face, back to his half-sister. She thought this was illegal?"Avery (I don't remember your last name), I must say, your lack of trust really hurts! I specifically asked permission before arranging this wonderful aspect of the Olympics. Besides, pretty sure our brave and noble Cabin Leader would love to see the younger kids thriving in this new, decidedly more hostile, and decidedly less fun environment."
Erik motioned subtly towards a group of Legionaries surrounding one of the Hermes kids collecting funds. grinning with dark intent. Within a blink of an eye, however, most of the Legionaries were on the ground with underwear over their eyes, the Hermes kid had a bigger stash of coin in his hands, and Erik was now sitting on the ground, breathing significantly heavier. "Whoo, that never gets easier. Where were we?"
Ah, the chariot racing. Noble sport of both Greek and Roman pastimes, but the Latin-creators seemed to take it a bit more... what's the word? Oh, yes, violently. "Oh we most certainly could! Sadly, after the loss of our beloved (and award-winning) RoadMaster 2000 back East, most of us weren't keen on building a new one, only to watch it get smashed by some burly Roman. But next year, Roadmaster 3000 will crush the competition." .
"I could have asked, true. But where's the fun in that, Gills? 'Sides, it's just denarii. Think the drachma's worth more on the global market right now."
Pissing off a bunch of legionaries is never high on Erik's list of things to do (it's there, just not high), but making Mila laugh even a little bit was worth the increased risk. Like it or not, she was one of the leaders of the refuges, and a Big Three Cabin Leader has a lot of weight to throw. So someone like her, with all the burdens and responsibilities on her shoulders... Well, it's nice to know she can still find a reason to smile.
And if she can, why shouldn't the rest of us mighty Greeks?
Even if it means those Legionaries might beat him up later.
"Y'know, I thought I missed the sign-ups for the footrace, but that's perfectly fine. I'm still working on my, ah, stamina with the whole running-faster-than-normal thing. Plus I'm running the betting, Gills. I can't trust a Mercury kid (as much I respect them) to run it for me, and heavens forbid I let one of my kid brothers or sisters take over."
Flipping through a notebook that somehow just appeared in his hands, Erik shook his head and whistled. "Still, that Hawke girl's going to take it all for foot-racing. Super speed and game manipulation? That's a fair set of loaded dice if I've ever seen it."
Erik lowered the sunglasses a bit and winked. "I'd still give myself 4-to-7 odds. Not high, but a decent cash out if I won."
Ah, but here was something interesting! Did she just... make a bet? "Wait, are you saying you'd sign up for this year if I did? Or next year if I did? Because either way, Gills, I'd gladly sign up to see you kick some Roman 'rearius' at any game. And not being competitive enough?" Erik smirked and shook his head. "Please, I bet you agree we need to show Camp Jupiter we're not just Greek Daycare, we're capable athletes and combatants and... Well, demigods. Competitiveness pales in comparison to Half-Blood Pride, right?"
Erik blew a bubble of his gum, turning away from Mila slightly before popping and beginning to chew again.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, let's start the betting."
A crowd of people now surrounded the young demigod, and he was receiving cash with one hand and scribbling down the odds on a whiteboard he "borrowed" for the occasion. Several others of his younger half-siblings were also helping, taking down bets and delivering the money (well, most of the money in some cases) to Erik as he marked down names for winners of the foot races, chariot racing, combat by arms and combat by just arms...
You name the Game happening this Olympics, Erik Flynn not only had someone betting on it, but was poised to make some serious cash off of it.
Course, all the Romans were paying in Denarii, and some of the Greek Campers (read: Exiles) only had drachma, and then some people were paying in mortal money as well. What was the exchange rate from Drachma to American dollars and denarii to English pounds?
Ah, here comes Avery! If anyone knows, it's gotta be her.
"Averrrryyyyyy, Big Sissssssss! We were wondering, do you know the exchange rate of drachma to American dollars? Or denarii to pounds? A lot of people are placing bets and your little siblings don't know. I'm pretty sure little Tim over there is pretty torn up about it."
True, Little Timmy was holding back tears. Or, maybe he was congested. It was hard to tell.
The seemingly disappointed voice of the notorious Hermes camper sounded loud and and clear from the sidelines. Leaning over the railing, sunglasses gleaming and chewing on what seemed to be gum, Erik Flynn shook his head. "You just lost me a LOT of money, Gills. One Roman chick bet me 100 denarii you'd smoke the competition. Suppose there's nothing to do about it now... Do you think the Bank of New Rome takes checks?"
The scoundrel produced a pen and a checkbook seemingly out of thin air, starting to scribble in it while still bothering Mila. "And I thought YOU, out of all of us, would want to show those Romans a thing or two about excellence. You're the most significant councilor we have here, who are all the little kiddies gonna look up to if not you?"
The young man smirked as he adjusted his sunglasses and shook his head at the daughter of Poseidon. "I guess you can compete next year. IF we survive that long, or if these upstanding models of civilization don't kick us out first."
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.
