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.
Was it too late to turn back around and ask for a new partner? Probably. Though that didn't stop the thought from resurfacing in his mind. What excuse could he give though? They had personal history? That wasn't worth more than the lives of the campers that they were trying to find. He would have been laughed out of the first cohort at that request. Plus, asking for a new partner would show his hand. There'd be no way to deny that she affected him and he would be dammed before he did that. And he was already dammed to have her forever in his gravitational pull apparently.
Shana adjusted the straps of her pack and Azriel resisted the urge to grab the top loop and hold the bag up properly to tighten it so it'd be sitting higher on her shoulders where it belonged. He knew better though. She'd insist her way was the correct path and he'd insist his own was and they'd be fighting before they even left camp. So instead he simply replied, "Right. So do you want to go over our supply-" The words were barely out of his mouth when Shana began walking away from him, calling him to follow after her like a puppy.
Azriel rolled his eyes, a tension headache beginning to form as he began following her out, exactly as she had demanded. It didn't take long for his long steps to catch up to her again and though he continued to walk beside her he spoke up once more. "We need to take an inventory of our supplies and resources. How long did you plan on being out here?" He had packed three weeks' worth of supplies, though he doubted that it would take that long. There was no telling what, if anything Shana had packed. She tended to act first and think later when it came to her impulses and he wouldn't have been surprised in the least if he was the only one who was actually prepared for this assignment.
He continued to follow her, the gates of camp fading farther and farther behind him. He assumed that she too read the debriefing on where they were supposed to go. It was the last known location of a group of demigods who had been making their way to camp. He was still following Shana when she took a left at Summit Pass, a left that he knew should have been a right. Azriel paused before nodding his head in the other direction, "We need to take a right here. It was up Grizzly Peak not Clairmont Trail." The first part of the mission had been set on a series of commonly followed trails before breaking off. "You did read the brief, right?" He tried to keep his voice neutral, though he doubted it was free from all of the doubt that he had.
The girl collapsed in front of him and Azriel watched her movement without concern, his eyes narrowed. She began to cough and sputter, and he could only muse that she should be thanking her lucky stars that he hadn't done worse. If he had let his temper get the better of him, there was no telling how badly this could have played out for her. She lashed out at him, calling him crazy and he immediately moved to retort back. Unfortunately, her spell was still in his system and any speech that he had been attempting came out in a harsh bray. A donkey. She had given him donkey ears. The animal's sound only stoking the anger inside of him and he felt the heat coursing in his blood.
His patience wore thin as she took her sweet and precious time rising back up on her feet. He wanted to say a thousand things to her. He wanted to set her barrack ablaze and let her siblings deal with the aftermath, though he knew in the back of his mind, he'd come off on the losing side of that fight. Might still be worth it though.
Azriel's hand clenched as she finally stood. No self-respecting Roman would have milked their injuries like the girl before him. No Roman would weakly priss and preen about, taking time to undo something that was a clear mistake. Undo and make right an action that showed just how very over her head she was now swimming.
The girl looked at him and Az could only tilt his chin to the side, his brows expectant. She had one choice. That choice being to remove the spell. If she didn't, the consequence would be to face his wrath. She had threatened him earlier with the spell being stuck for hours if she passed out. He very much doubted that. Trivia had plenty of Roman children running around. The fourth cohort was just a few steps behind him. He could get it removed in a mere matter of moments if he wanted to, but that wasn't the point. She needed to undo it and undo it immediately. She had caused the pain to herself and if she did not remove the ridiculous spell then he would make sure she learned her lesson one way or another.
Azriel was purely thankful that the witch hadn't cursed his entire body to turn into, well, whatever she had cursed him with. He couldn't exactly tell from his current vantage point. There were no mirrors around and it wasn't like he had given her time to mention. His ears now felt massive and long though so perhaps something along the lines of an elephant? That was his closest guess. He mused though that if she had changed more than just his ears, he could have just sat on her and made her change him back. As it was, physical strength was currently his best retort.
He noted the surprise and shock in her eyes the minute he made contact. A pleased feeling washed over him as she tried and failed to get out of his grasp. There were a hundred things he wanted to say to her, but knew no words could actually come out so instead he allowed himself the pleasure of watching her struggle against the weight of the consequences that she was now bearing.
The witch fought against his grasp and he almost began tightening his hold on her. Thankfully, for her sake, he caught the words that came out of her mouth before he did so. Azriel released his hold, letting her go immediately. He didn't try to soften her fall nor catch her if she stumbled. He only watched in pure heated anger, his eyes taking immediate notice of the skin around her neck.
The marks were clear that he had burned her and he felt half a moment of sympathy for her. He had thought, because of her little candle trick earlier, that she was immune to flame. Now, it was clear that she was not. Perhaps if he had known that he might have tried harder to keep his anger in control. He might have tried just a bit more to keep the flames at bay. Then again, if she hadn't acted like a child none of this would have happened in the first place. Turnabout was fair play afterall.
Azriel grasped his hands at his side to keep from immediately grabbing her up again. Though he had just let her go, if she refused to make good on her promise, he'd happily return them to her neck. Anger was coursing through his blood and he couldn't tell what was godly gift and what was purely reactional from her stunt anymore. He didn't look away from her, refusing to take his eyes off of her. It would only take a second for her to enact another spell on him or try to run away and he didn't plan on allowing either of those to happen.
Had Azriel not been on the verge of a very violent explosion, he might have found her words hilarious. The girl tilted her chin and stood up as if she actually had a fighting chance against him. As if she hadn't just gotten knocked down by the barest collision against him. He amassed that of course she didn't know to be scared of him. Their camp clearly didn't value training and strength. She might not be afraid of any Greeks but it showed just how ignorant she was that she spoke out loud of not fearing Romans. She uttered that everyone crumbles and though he didn’t reply, he did roll his eyes at the sentiment. She was so utterly wrong he found himself wondering if he was being pranked. If perhaps one of his siblings had paid the girl to annoy the Hades out of him for fun.
The girl moved to him and spoke something he couldn't quite catch. He knew it didn't matter though, not as he felt his features begin to change. His ears growing warm before feeling foreign. He had been on the receiving end of this before. Magic. She was a dammed witch. Azriel felt the anger surging. He had no problem with the children who descended from witch goddesses. He had no issues with them using their magic to their defense. To strike when it wasn't warranted, to attack with a magic force thinking that consequences were above you however, made him want to burn her to the ground. Thankfully, for this girl, she was immune to flame. That didn't exactly mean he was powerless though. Azriel clenched his fist, the anger making his skin hot to the touch.
Then she struck him, her fist colliding with his face. She glanced his nose, the brunt hitting him on the cheek but it barely registered. Azriel struck immediately, grabbing her by the throat and pushing her backwards, hard against the barrack wall. It wasn't enough to satisfy the rage though, not by far.
He opened his mouth to say something but he couldn't form words, that small fact not boding well for the girl. He instead slowly began to raise his arm, her throat still in his grip as he began to move so her feet weren't touching the ground. A trace of flame was coming off his skin and had she not been immune to fire, the tender flesh around her neck would be seared. He kept his eyes laser focused on her. The witch would either remove the spell or take an involuntary nap, the choice was hers.
Azriel watched in utter annoyance as the girl who he shoved fell. If that didn't sum up the whole mass of Greeks then he didn't know what would. All talk and no substance. All mouth and no muscle to back it up. It was pitiful. No Roman girl would keel over from a simple shove. He had been ready to meet fire with fire, but with the Greeks it was more like fire with fizzling flame. He knew he should probably leave the situation entirely. He knew his mother had made his favorite meal and it all was waiting just outside of camp's border's but he couldn't walk away. He had a terrible week that only surmounted to him being cast off and throw away like yesterday's garbage. He couldn't find it in himself to just walk away and leave the rude Greek to her own company.
She stood, straightening herself in front of him, as if something like that was supposed to make him feel afraid. As if he hadn't already demonstrated how utterly easy it would be to send her to the infirmary. She spoke of him regretting his actions if he touched her again and he laughed, "Are all Greeks this stupid or is it just you? Let me give you a piece of advice." He had crossed his arms in front of his chest, and was now leaning over to her as if he was actually giving her something to take heed by. "If you don't run around acting like a petulant child ruling the playground perhaps you won't have to worry about the real adults in charge knocking you down a peg." There was no humor to his words. There wasn't anything to joke about in his advice. There was only honesty. She had been the one to strike like a viper with her words. If she was upset at the result of those actions she needed to take it up with herself, not him.
And as for fire. He and fire got along just fine. The girl summoned flame and Azriel made sure his face was as bored as the rest of him. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?" The flame was pathetic, just as small and useless as the female before him. All show and no substance. "I bet you're a real hit at birthday parties." Because the only thing that pathetic flame would intimidate would be a birthday cake candle, at least in the son of Vulcan's eyes. "Now, are we done here?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting on her to say something to him.
Azriel had never felt so constricted before. Like a pressure valve that was hellbent on blowing apart that was being held together by string and tape. The passages were filled with orange-clad graecus. Unwanted strangers who filled the mess hall, the training facilities, and even once on the rare occasion, his own barracks. There was no safe place of refuge. There was nowhere he could out-run or shelter himself from them. He had tried. Gods knew he had tried. Since the blow that Shana dealt, he had volunteered for everything that he could sign his name on. Chariot racing? Absolutely. Extra guard duty? No problem. Forge work volunteers? Sure thing. Yet none of it helped.
No matter how many Roman-centered things he signed his name upon, they were always there. The Greeks with their orange-clad outfits and ridiculous smiles. As if they were vacationing in his home on holiday. His patience was non-existent. Since he had let Shana go, since he had made peace with never having her in the way that he had hoped, the way that he had wanted, his days had felt hollow. He had set it upon his mind to forget her. To pretend that she had joined the Hunters and that she was off somewhere being who she wanted to be. Living her life and not looking back. Giving him exactly what she had promised. Unfortunately, since making that demand of himself, his traitorous mind had only thought of her more. He found himself unwillingly snagging on her face in a crowd. Following her with his eyes as she walked across campus. It was almost as if his body had a sensor for her. A radar for her and her alone that his blood demanded he acknowledge. It was maddening.
So he had volunteered once more. This time, somewhere that guaranteed she wouldn't be there. A quest, though he supposed it was really more of a mission, to find demigods and bring them back to camp. It was time away from his beloved home, but time that he knew he needed. He needed to get away, to give himself time to think and breathe without the swaths of graecus scum squeezing in. So he had packed and made his way out of the tunnel. He was told that a Greek would be joining him in the quest, which he hadn't enjoyed the thought of but begrudgingly accepted. He knew it made sense, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
As he neared the exit, he noticed that a figure was already there, waiting for him. A small frown appeared as he had checked his watch. He had purposefully left early to be here when the other demigod appeared. It seemed punctuality was something they could both agree on. That was a good first step he mused. Az spoke up, "I guess we can go ahead, if you're ready?" He was still a bit far away, the shadows in the night rendering it impossible to see who it was that was waiting on him. His long gait closed the distance and he spoke up once more, "I'm Azr-" The words died on his lips as he halted. Shana. The gods had to be playing a trick on him surely. He stood, regarding her, a bit unsure of what to do. His voice remained level, if not a bit unsure, "You volunteered for this quest?"
Azriel had to usher not just one but two children from the Greek camp out of the forge. They had been looking for firewood or something else of the sort to keep a camp fire burning for hours. As in a true, gather around the fire and roast marshmallows camp fire. As if this place was a joke. He had tossed them out, quite literally onto their rear ends before making his way through the sea of orange to his barrack, changing out of his work shirt. Not only were the Greeks a complete and utter messy intrusion but they had also brought along Shana. An old unrequited love that had waltzed into his life only to break his heart all over again. Needless to say, Azriel had not been in a good mood as of late.
He wasn't what anyone would call a people-person before the Greeks had come into camp. Since their arrival, however, he had been a nightmare to get along with and he knew it. He was snapping at probatios, losing his patience when it came to working with others. He found the irritation and the urge to incinerate things coming much too quickly for his liking. So he had set aside the rest of the day to leave Camp Jupiter's borders and take some time to see his family. Spend a little time in New Rome. A freedom only allotted to him because of his years of service and lineage. A small perk that he knew he needed to take advantage of.
So he changed out of his dirty work clothes and into a clean set. A simple purple camp shirt and pair of jeans. He had barely stepped outside of the barracks when someone bumped into him. He caught the orange shirt a fraction of a second before the offender spat out a warning to him to watch out. Without giving much thought to anything at all, he leaned into the anger that was set off like a burning fuse to a bomb. He shoved the female. Not nearly as hard as his instincts wanted to, but enough to hopefully cause her to fall or at the very least stumble. "Watch where you're walking Graecus."
Even as she stood in enemy territory, his home territory. Obviously outnumbered and hopelessly at a disadvantage, she continued to threaten him. A smile that he couldn’t control pulled at his lips. Not in mockery exactly, but at the sheer audacity that was Shana. He almost spoke up then. The words were on the very tip of his tongue. To say something to goad her into a further argument. To say something that would cause her to make good on that threat, a fact to which he had no doubt that she would attempt to make good on.
She would launch herself at him, in the most unproductive way possible, unless she had miraculously gotten better at fighting since they had last seen one another. She would throw a punch, something that he could easily deflect and her body would be near his. Intent on giving him Hades but too small to accomplish much. He could see the scene play out in his mind. A very uncomfortable thought bubbling up and asking if that was why he was so intent on angering her. If that was simply the only guaranteed way to get her close to him again and if that was the case, how very pathetic it was.
So he promptly shut his mouth and dropped the smile. He needed to leave. He needed to exit the situation and forget that she was here. Force his mind to focus on anything else in the world outside of her eyes. Outside of the dam gravitational pull that she seemed to always suck him into. Like two black holes pulling towards one another in mutual destruction. But then he had to get self-righteous and chastise her. Something he might have felt better about had she not promptly retorted. The words turning the anger that he had been feeling into ice.
Azriel's eyebrows raised. Demigod. She wasn't just a blessed mortal. She wasn't just some sort of huntress in training adopted by the disorderly Greeks. She was a demigod. She was a disorderly Greek. It made sense of course. Looking back, he supposed it all made sense but gods he had never considered that a possible outcome.
She had made a choice, a very long time ago, that he had never been able to understand but he had hoped. Somewhere deep down inside of himself, somewhere with all of those other emotions that he hadn't allowed himself to make peace with. He had hoped that one day she would stride into camp. Silver-blessed and beaming, illuminating his dam life just like she had when she had saved his rear end all those years ago. And he would make his case again. Hoping she had her fill of that by then. Hoping that enough time had passed for her to sew whatever wild oats she had needed to. That maybe he'd be enough.
That had been a fool's hope and he knew that but hearing the words, the confession of her lineage spoken out loud, it was like a death blow to whatever fantasies he had ever had. Even if she did change her mind on the hunters, even if Artemis herself said that she wasn't fit and could never be one of her own, their differences were astronomical. His life was Rome. Period. His family was here, his whole life was within the borders, his future was here. There was nowhere that a Greek could fit. There was no version of a future that he could ever offer her. His spiraling thoughts were running rampant and saved only by her voice speaking up again.
She seemed to have been just as emotionally drained as he was and as he listened to her words, heartbreakingly soft, his eyes met hers once more. Az nodded, the words equally quiet and every bit as empty, "I know. I know you didn't." He obliged the thoughts for just a moment more. The thoughts that wanted to burn the whole dam camp down because the girl who had always been barely out of his grasp, had now become wholly unobtainable. A future that was dreamt and then taken away in the shadow of mere minutes.
Then he pushed it all down. Threw away the lock and the key. Swallowing hard, he looked away just for a second before meeting her eyes once more, "I guess you really could make good on that threat then?" His lips pulled just a fraction to the side in a hollow half-smile.
He looked past her, nodding ahead to the large columned mess hall. "Yeah. It's straight ahead, to the left." He paused, collecting his thoughts before speaking. Reminding himself that she was no longer, nor would she ever be, anything more to him than a friend. "Shana. I won't apologize for wanting to keep you safe." with me. "But I am glad that you found your family. I'm glad it all worked out for you." And he was. "I have a class to teach but I'll catch you around alright?" He gave her as sincere and faultless of a smile as he could manage before moving back, pulling out of her grip and out of her life.
Azriel had half expected her to apologize immediately. Or perhaps to begin her explanation and then launch into a flurry of apologies following directly after. Of course that would have been the natural and expected thing for a normal girl to do in this situation. A normal anyone, male or female. Basically anyone who was not Shana. Instead of apologizing and explaining though, she launched into threatening him.
She was at least a foot shorter than he was and he had a good minimum sixty pounds on her, yet he didn’t doubt for one second that she would, at least attempt, to follow through on her threat. Azriel made a point to look her up and down slowly as he assessed her. "Yeah, you look like the picture of health and strength." The words came out bitterly sarcastic, as many before that had. She was always quick to bring out the worst parts of him.
The parts of himself that he didn't like acknowledging. He could handle anger issues. That hardly made him stand out in the Roman camp. What he could not handle were the feelings of protectiveness. The pain of being a jilted lover. The way his eyes snagged on bruises that looked fresh, forcing his blood to feel warmer. The way he had to stop himself from removing debris from her hair. Emotions like that were the ones that he preferred to keep locked deep down and away. Where he could pretend they didn't exist.
Az could feel his body begin to get warmer. He had stayed too long in her presence. In her Greek, non-hunter, presence. He could feel a small rivulet of sweat run down his back. It was time to go. He moved to walk past her, but of course things could never be that easy around her.
He felt her tug strongly on the sleeve of his shirt. Had it been anyone else, male or female alike, he would have shoved them without hesitation or regard as to how or where they landed. With her, his traitorous body relented to her command. He stopped immediately and she was already speaking, as if she knew there would be no question that he would stop for her. Another thought that made him want to punch something.
She spoke about him treating her like a kid and he gave a humorless laugh, "No, you're right. You're much worse than a child actually. At least children tend to learn their lessons." The words were said quickly as he inched in between her verbal assault. He knew from experience that when she had something to say, he might has well bide his time because she was very well going to say it. No matter how long it would take. He listened silently. He had tried keeping his face clear of any emotions but as she brought up that Artemis herself told her that she wasn't ready, he raised his eyebrows.
Azriel would never, ever, apologize for being defensive about her not being a huntress. Ever. That had been the golden ticket that she had waived over and over in front of his face as he had offered her security and safety. As he had offered her a home with him. No Az, I'm going to be a hunter. The words still clear as a bell in his memory.
She continued speaking, throwing every accusation back at him as she sounded off on the camp and dealing with him. As she finished up her rant, his words picked up following immediately after hers. "Me? Do you really think dealing with you is a joy?" His face made sure that she was certain of his opinion on the matter before he continued on. "And spare me the sad story of you having to fight by yourself out in the mortal world. I was the one who offered you a home here first remember? I was the one who offered you safety. Or was that one too many frivolous hiking trips ago for you to remember?"
He knew he should leave. He knew that he was wasting time but he couldn't. For one, she still had his shirt firmly in her grasp, but more importantly he knew that even if he did leave her, she wouldn't leave him. At least not in his mind. He would find himself still thinking of things he wanted to say. He would find himself wondering what kind of trouble she was getting into because she was clearly going to at some point. He took a deep breath in, a good and solid breath back out. He needed to clear his head and calm his mind. He should have known by now that he would never get anything through that thick skull of hers.
He looked away from her glare, one hand running through his short hair before replying once more, trying to keep his voice calm and low. "Look, you're right. You don't owe me sht. I just thought…" Gods he knew he shouldn't have left the forge today. He kept his gaze firmly onto the ground in front of him. "I just thought that I would have heard something from you. It's been years." The last word causing his voice to waver. He wasn't sure if it was the anger, the pain or both but gods he hated this. He told himself that he hated her, though he knew better than that.
Azriel had watched as her dark hair had turned towards him. Her dark eyes that he knew held a unfathomable storm behind them, meeting his own. Her words silently mouthed a very uncouth sentiment which truly was utterly Shana. When other girls pasted a smile, she gave a scowl. When they frowned, she smirked. He hadn't been able to shake her out of his head. Shana and her wild ways. He had swallowed her dismissal, her sheer rejection of everything that he had offered to give her. He had tucked it away and locked it down firmly into a box that he had been content to live with. That was all pending on her joining the Hunters though. He had been able to overlook her rejection because of her desire to join a cause that he would never understand. It had seemed to make her happy though and he hadn't been able to get anything through her thick skull otherwise. So he had lived with it. Assuming she had as well.
As he came closer to her though, it became increasingly obvious that she had never gone through with her plans. Azriel continued frowning as she sarcastically commented on his lack of manners. As if he gave a single care about what was demanded of him socially. He was in no mood for those games or mock niceties.
His eyes scanned over her face as she stood before him. She looked rough, perhaps she had been on the road or recently back from hiking. Either of those possibilities were well within in her realm. His eyes snagged on the blaringly obvious orange shirt and he felt as if a shovel had smacked him upside of his head. Greek. Could it truly be possible? Perhaps she had gotten herself kicked out of the Hunters and taken in by the Camp.
Azriel crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Oh, I'm just wonderful. My home has been overrun by orange-clad children. Now answer the question Shana." He didn't let his eyes move from hers. Say it. He needed to hear her say it. He needed to hear the words leaving her lips that she hadn't gone through with her plans. That she had lied to him. That she hadn't been honorable enough to be honest with him. Or perhaps too cowardly to not join the group nor seek him out. Either way he wouldn't give her sympathy.
She had made her choices and he wanted to hear the confirmation in her words out-loud. "Tell me, was any of it true? Or do you and your kind just enjoy preying on the hospitality of Romans?" He let his eyes move from her. He made himself focus on the groups of orange and purple conversing. He hated how easily she could get to him.
He hated that each movement she made forced his eyes, unwillingly, to her. He hated that she was standing in his home, wearing the colors of Greece. He hated that she had no sympathy or remorse over what she did, all of the lies she had told him. He sighed in irritated, his hand running through his hair, "You know what, as lovely as this has been, I have places to be." He couldn't muster a goodbye or a see you around, his chest tight with anger. Az moved to step around her, to leave her where she stood.
Az had been spending more and more time at the forge. He wasn't a person who enjoyed being around people to begin with. That had been true even while camp had solely been occupied by his fellow Romans. Now that the Greeks were flooding their camp by the droves, his avoidance had reached new heights. They were unbearable in his own humble opinion. They were all very loud, very emotional, and very lazy. They valued all of the wrong things and they had no respect for weaponry. At least none of the few who he had the misfortune to come across. So he had spent as much time as possible in his sanctuary of heat and flame. He had a small cot set up in case he needed to bunk there for the night while waiting for a weapon to cure. There were books scattered about that he could read if he got bored. What it didn't have though, was proper food.
For that, he would have to travel outside the confines of the Forge and head to the mess hall. Azriel shut down the few things he had been working on, taking off his leather apron and hanging it up before leaving. He didn't nod or wave politely at the people he passed. Most wore those awful orange colors that he would never understand the practicality of so he didn't mind appearing rude. The other legionnaire members in camp knew well enough that he wasn't the friendliest guy here. He saw only one legionnaire from his cohort and he did manage to give a small nod as he passed. That would certainly be enough socializing for the day.
Az had almost made it to the mess hall without incident. Just one building away and he saw her. Shana. The girl who he hadn't seen in years who had still refused to give up space in his head. She was standing in the middle of the walkway, looking completely lost. Azriel found himself smiling in utter disbelief as he began to walk over to her, "Shana?" His voice called out over the gaggle of people. He was still in shock that she was here. Actually here, in his home. Something he had tried to convince her to do years ago. Apparently she had done just what she had vowed she would always do and join The Hunters. As he closed the distance though, it became increasingly obvious that there was no silver aura about her. Confusion quickly filled his features, stopping short as his brain tried to process exactly how she was here. "You're not a Hunter?"
[LOYAL] It sounds like a bit of a roman cliché, but he's loyal to a possible fault. He has strong ties to New Rome and the legion and doesn't easily trust outsiders. He has plans of spending his future in New Rome just like his mother and father before him and has no interest in the world outside of camp's borders. [break][break] [HOT-TEMPERED] Like godly father, like son. The boy has a temper. He isn't a sensitive sort but when people push his buttons, there's not much patience in the tank. He tries his best to keep the fire at bay, sometimes literally, but when it comes to idiocy or disrespect there's simply not enough deep breathing exercises in the world to cool his temper. [break][break] [SOFTY] To the rare, occasional, person who he finds himself tolerating, he can be very sweet. It's usually people who take the weapons that he creates and actually uses and cares for them the way he intended. It's not all of them though and gods help you if you try flattery. Sometimes he just tolerates a person much more than the rest and he has been known to be quite protective of those rare few. Sometimes creating special things for them or working with them one-on-one to perfect a weapon he designed. [break][break] [FOCUSED] When he finds something that interests him he tends to get tunnel vision until his curiosity is satisfied. It can be anything from a new weapon or challenge he needs to work around or why Ancient Romans did this versus that, etc. He likes following his interest. He's intelligent when it comes to things that he knows well and has an interest in, but ask him to study latin or the works of Emily small thingenson and he's lost [break][break] [FOODIE] He enjoys cooking. His father was always in the kitchen baking or cooking this and that and from a very young age he taught the boy how to cook as well. One of the fastest ways to his heart is a sweet cupcake or cookie. [break][break]
[attr="class","hopelovetitle"]BIOGRAPHY
[attr="class","hopelovetop"]
Mother: Charlotte (Warren) Quinn | Daughter of Bellona[break] Adoptive Father: Brandon Quinn | Mortal with the sight[break] Father: Vulcan[break] Claimed | At camp for nine years [break][break] Charlotte Warren was perfectly content to live her life in New Rome. She had been there since she was a child. She had never even considered a life outside of its borders. One day, however, curiosity struck and the woman found herself leaving the safety of the mini city and finding out how mortals lived, just for a day. At least that had been the plan. She had found the normal mundane humans interesting though and one day turned into one week, and then one week into three. She allowed herself to let go, to be daring and adventurous. She had been at a car race, of all things, one day when she was drawn to one of the engines. She herself had never worked with engines, but it called to her in some odd way similar to the pull she sometimes felt when she used her telumkinesis powers. The owner of the car was handsome and the two ended up spending an evening together after the track had been emptied. The next morning she woke to find a small note of thanks with the symbol of Vulcan on it, as if she had been nothing more than a plaything for his service. She had felt taken advantage of but more than that she was terrified. [break][break] She had decided to leave immediately for New Rome and pray that there would be no lasting consequences for her endeavors. Along the way she stopped at a small restaurant where she had been the sole person there. The chef and owner had apologized for the lack of staff and she had waved it off. As she waited for her food the realization of what had happened overwhelmed her and she found herself crying. The man had given her company, a sympathetic ear to listen, and at the end of it all, had made her forget about her problems. She had stayed another day in the mortal world. Then a month. It was at the end of that month that she found out she was pregnant. The mortal, Brandon, had known it wasn't his but hadn't cared. They were in love and Charlotte knew she couldn't leave him. The idea of lying to him had never crossed her mind, so she told him the truth of what she was and what the child could be. He had been astonished, but hadn't left. So they got married and nine months later, Azriel was born. [break][break] Their life had been a good one, but hadn't been very long. At least not their life out in the real world. When Azriel was just seven months old, a monster attacked the family. Charlotte had handled it quickly and efficiently, but the amazing part of it all was that Brandon had seen it all. He was a blessed mortal with the sight, which allowed him safe entry into New Rome with her and their child. The family immediately left the mortal world, never to look back. So Azriel grew up, surrounded by others like him. He led a safe and wonderful life with other young demigods who were also legacies. He trained from the moment he could hold a sword and dreamed of the days when he could finally go to Camp Jupiter. When he was fourteen, almost fifteen, his mother sent him away to the Wolf House where he excelled. He only stayed there a short four months before being approved ready for Camp Jupiter. With his reference letters in hand he was claimed immediately by Vulcan and put into the first co-hort. [break][break] After his first year was under his belt, he and a group of friends decided to celebrate by taking a camping trip in the mountains outside of Camp's protected borders. They had gotten permission and set out. Unfortunately that many demigods packed into one area was a monster beacon and as they had made camp for the night, something deadly found them. The boys had fought as well as they could but it took out four before Az and one other boy knew they had to run. So run they did. The other boy hadn't made it, but thankfully for Azriel he had stumbled upon a mortal with a very fast car. The girl had screamed in panic, clearly seeing what he was seeing and Azriel realized that she had the sight, like his father did. The two spend the next few weeks together in survival mode as they tried to lose the creature. [break][break] Azriel had never met a girl like her before. She was brave, almost as much as any of the Roman girls who he had met before. She was also funny and sweet. She had been all that he, at the age of fifteen, could think about. He had tried convincing her to go with him to New Rome. To accept the safety that it offered but she had been stubborn and refused. Before he could protest too much she had told him about the Hunters and that she was going to join them. He had listened quietly before making his case. Did she not care about the possibility of love? Did she not want a family? They were all valid questions, at least he had thought so, but she hadn't. The girl had left in irritation and whatever small magic they had between them was shattered into oblivion. [break][break] So he had made his own way back home. He ran into a search party from Camp, an hour away from the border. They had found the other boys and had almost given up on finding him. His mother had been relieved but furious, making him promise to never leave the camp's borders again. He had agreed, not caring to see the mortal world ever again. Eventually, time passed on. He has put 9 years into serving the legion and is on his last year of duty. He plans on going to college in New Rome and eventually settling down there. Though he's never met anyone who he could ever see himself with. [break][break]
Pyrokinesis: He has control over fire and flame. He can summon a flame at will and has worked with his powers long enough that he's quite accurate with it. Summoning a small flame while working or creating doesn't take much out of him. Anything large and that demands his concentration will begin to take its toll on him though. If he gets very angry or upset, occasionally he will create a flame that he did not intend to create. He is also immune to the effects of fire and flame.
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.
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