show me a hero... |demigod rp| semi-lit

[abel.]

Username: HarryPotter<3
Name: Amelia Marie Pond.
Nickname: 'Melia or Amy.
Gender: She is a Female.
Godly Parent: Zeus is her dad.
Age: 16 years old.

Looks: And from the top, her hair drapes
her shoulders, with a natural wave or curl to
it. Her soft jawline defines her face and her
cheeks are thin. Her sloped, rounded shoulders
give her a soft appearance. Her stomach is
framed by her rib cage, though no individual
bones are visible them selves.

Personality: Amelia isn't always the gloomiest
person nor is she a ball of sunshine. Her attitude
is usually positive and always accepting of others,
seeing as she's felt what it's like to be an outcast.
That didn't stand in her way for long, so she is
always striving to prove people wrong about her.
But with good naturedness comes a firey attitude
when you cross her. Being on Amelia's good side is
your best option at this point.

History: Amelia happened out of a...fling?
with Zeus and her mother. She knew from
about the age of six that she wasn't the same,
and at about nine she got a pretty good idea of
what she was. Amelia came to Camp Half-Blood
when she just turned eleven after things became
to risky at home. And within a few weeks of
being here, she was claimed by the king of the
skies.

Favored Weapon: Her lightning bolt sword
and her shield.

How Long Have You Lived In Camp Half Blood?:
Five Years.

Crush: None currently.

Sexuality: Pansexual.

BF | GF: None currently.

Pet: Aloof a male Pegasus.
And Sinna, a female Angora cat.

Other: Nope.

Username: HarryPotter<3
Name: Reed James Crater.
Nickname: Reedles.
Gender: He is a male.
Godly Parent: His mother is Athena.
Age: 17 years old.

Looks: Starting at the top, his dark
brown hair has a slight curve to it, but at times
will do what ever it wants. He has slightly
prominent cheek bones and a rounded chin.
His collar bone sticks out like a sore thumb.
He has very little muscle definition, but that
doesn't mean he isn't strong. His stomach is
thin, and his ribs are faintly visible.

Personality: Reed is usually a humble guy,
but isn't afraid to shine in what he does
best. He often doesn't care what others
thinks and is just himself: A goofball.
Sarcasm and joking around are high up
on his priority list. But discourage him,
you will just be shut out. He doesn't need
the negativity. Reed is rather shy around
new people, but is quick to make friends
with most people, but if you tend to act a
bit "dull", he'll quickly get annoyed. To put
it short, he appreciates intelligence.

History: His dad and his mom we together
for a while, but when the law was passed
that the gods and godess's couldn't have
contact with their children, his mother had
to leave. He was about three years old at
the time, but when he was eight, his father
sat him down and explained to Reed why he
was diffrent. And it wasn't until he was
thirteen that his powers were too much to
handle in the public, so off to camp he
went.

Favored Weapon: His silver bow and arrows
and silver arm plates.

How Long Have You Lived In Camp Half Blood?:
Almost 5 years.

Crush: None currently.

Sexuality: Heterosexual.

BF | GF: None currently.

Pets: Socratees, the Arctic Wolfdog
and Lady the Snowy Owl.

Other: Nope.

[aergia]

A small young girl, around 5, sits at a campfire with her eyes closed. All around her is flame. Part of the crowd gasps as they realise what’s happening, they burn into dust. The girl opens her eyes; they are a bright orange colour, just like her hair. Everyone nearby that wasn’t burnt takes a few steps back, then the fire dies away and the girl is sitting there, energy drained.

Ʋƨɛяиαмɛ
Alycia.

Иαмɛ
Scarlet Bonnie Lyons

Δɢɛ
16

Ǥɛи∂ɛя
Female

Ǥσ∂ℓʏ Ƥαяɛит
Hephaestus

Ƥσƨιтισи
Year rounder

My mother never quite looked at me the same after that night at the fire, she said to her friends with her that the were drunk and hallucinating things. The people that I had killed with fire were also supposedly 'drunk'.

Ƥɛяƨσиαℓιтʏ
Scarlet is a cheerful person, she doesn’t let her mothers horrible attitude towards demi-gods put her down. She is often known to laugh at random times because of something that happened yesterday. In a group she will always be the one to help, though she can lead if needed. She doesn’t like making choices and is happy enough for someone else to lead her. She learnt struck life lessons as a child, but 'don't play with fire' is something she never understood.

Scarlet has never liked swimming and hates the swimming pool she has at her mothers place, which is why she normally is a year rounder. Water always seems to find a way to annoy her, whether it be a flash flood while walking home or she finds out a tidal wave destroyed her holiday house the day after her mother and her left, water is out there to kill her.

Ħιƨтσяʏ
Scarlet grew up with her mortal parent like all other demi-gods. She can barely remember that night at the campfire, but everyone else, including her mother, remembers as if it was yesterday. As a school student she got kicked out of her first school within a few days. A strict letter was sent home saying that she burnt down half of the gym. Things like this kept happening to her all her life, though when she incinerated the poor campfire people. There was once a fire at school that her mother instantly blamed on her, but in truth, it was a random student from a higher grade, not even a half-blood.

Ɯɛαρσи
Braise, Imperial Gold

Ɯɛαρσи ∂ιƨɢʋιƨɛ
Braise turns into a Choker chain, Twist the jewel in the middle to turn into sword

I'm not like the other kids in my cabin, I can't make swords or arrows, fire is my thing.

˩σʌɛ ˩ιғɛ
No-one, she prefers it this way.

Ƨтяɛиɢтнƨ
She is a fast thinker and has never been caught out. She likes to think of herself like a cat, quick and cunning.

Ғℓαωƨ
Strength. Where Scarlet is very agile and flexible, she lacks great strength. Sword fights aren't her favourite thing but she could shoot an arrow strait if her life depended on it.

Ғɛαяƨ
Scarlet has never really liked the cold, her dad being the god of heat and all. Cold drinks and ice-cream tends to melt very fast around her and is always making a mess of her cloths. Confined spaces is another thing she hates, they tend to be cold too.

[charmey]

☥ ｈ ａ ｖ ｏ ｋ ☥
__________________________________________________________
{ ｎｉｎｅｔｅｅｎ } - { ｓｏｎ ｏｆ ｈａｄｅｓ } - { ｍａｌｅ }
__________________________________________________________




“ sometimes i wonder what death looks like →



" My name is Havok. Havok Braxton Reid. have-oak brr-acks-ton read. Why? Because that's what I decided I wanted to be called. I mean its got a nice ring to it, no? Even better, its got no dumb, cry-me-a-river back-story. Its just a name, a stamp, a title- no more no less.
On a cold December 26th morning, 6:06:06 AM to be exact, I was brought into this unforgiving world by Lindsay Anne Reid, and as my demi-god blood points to, Hades. Yes, Hades. God of the Underworld. Hmph, now that I think about my father, I wonder if he has a last name at all. Or if its just Hades. Ack, my ADHD is kicking in. *focuses back on subject* Anyways, I was born and raised in the wonderful Manhattan, New York up to the age of twelve. ( I'm nineteen now. ) That's whenever my mother confided into me my true heritage. Up until then, it had been believed my mother and father's relationship was a one night stand type of thing, and I was just the accidental baggage that followed. But now that I knew the truth... everything about my life suddenly made sense. How I never fit in, how school never made sense to me, how death seemed to follow me everywhere I went. I could never keep a pet more than a couple days you know. Something would happen, whether my exact doing or not, that lead it to it's death. Hell, even people just dropped like flies around me. Or so it seemed. Well there was that one kid with the stapler... and then that teacher at the zoo field trip...
Nonetheless, it goes to say I was brought to Camp Half-Blood very soon after I learned I was the son of Hades. Here I've lived for seven years old my life, which makes me wonder if its where I'll always stay. Or if I'll ever be able to fit in anywhere else. Not like I really fit in here in all honesty. My most favored weapon is my double-bladed ax, which's metal has been melted in with poison from the Underworld- make it even more than deadly. And of course, my good ol' trusty arm bracers. "




what death feels like →



" Wow. Me? Giving an accurate description of my physical features? Trust me to not make myself look like some kind of prince? *smirks* Well to start with, I have pitch black hair. It's a little on the longish side, but not too long. Come on now, do I really look like something related to a quire? I used to dye the tips of it blue and sometimes red. Emphasis on used to. Don't ask why, I just did. And if you could keep yourself from it, don't call me "goth" or "emo". I hate labels. Hate them. So don't label me, or you'll regret it.
My eyes are deep stony grey that can sometimes have this... affect on people. I'm not sure what it is. Sometimes I catch people just staring. Like their burning straight through me, but then again not. I don't know, see'em for yourself. Make your own conclusion. I stand just above most of the rest at 6'3. I'm tall, but I'm not creepily thin. I actually have a pretty decent muscular build. I wouldn't say its super prominent, but its defiantly there if you just take a glance. Though I do have some weight added due to my stocky build, it takes away none of my speed or agility. My skin is white, Caucasion- whatever you want to call it- with somewhat of a light summers tan. As of body modifications, I regret to inform you I don't own any tattoos. I kind of wish I did, but I don't. I have snakebites, but I don't wear the bars in as much as I used to. "




and only when i look into the mirror, through the looking glass, →



" History will go here once I get around to writing it. c; So for now...
words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. words. "




am i able to remember. ” →



" You want me to describe myself? My personality? Two simple words ought a do it. Strong and silent. I don't have to say a word for my presence to be known. My silence comes with an extra dose of confidence and control, something I've had to fight hard to find within myself. I don't feel the need to put on a show, stand out in a crowd, or be chatty when I'm out and about. Talking is something I hardly do, let alone spill out my heart and talk about my feelings like some wussy girl. Rather, I just sit back and observe. So when I say something you better listen and listen carefully. In consequence, when my mouth usually only negative things come out. Hey, I just speak the brutal truth is all. Nonetheless, don't you dare confuse my silence as a sign of weakness or disinterest; consider instead that I feel most comfortable analyzing a situation instead of putting up a big fuss.
I'm naturally intoxicating and able to catch attention without doing much at all- a blessing and a curse. In a warped way, I seemed to be fairly well-respected. But my strong demeanor comes with a price. I always keep a steel wall of defense up. I haven't let it down for years. Me equals no trust. At all. Trusting someone is just setting yourself up for disappointment. They all end up leaving you in the end. Fear? I know the feeling. I know it down to the dirt and grime. But I don't express it anymore. I think its been permanently beaten out of me. I am pretty unreadable anyways. You won't be able to tell my emotions unless I want you to. The only other emotion you'll never ever get to see besides fear is sadness. You don't need to know what I look like when I'm sad. Why? Because I think sadness, remorse, or even a tear reveals weakness. That's something I can't have. Other than that, I don't care what others think of me in any way whatsoever. I don't need another's assurance to be happy with myself. People seem to be intimidated by me so much that they fear any sort of communication with me at all. And that's just how I like it.
I am quite easily considered antisocial and quite frankly a jerk. But if you actually get to know me, I'd say I'm an alright kind of guy. I'm cocky and blunt, yes, but I am also a jokster and I can be somewhat related to a flirt. But my jokes tend to blend with sarcasm and brute honesty, making them sometimes not so funny. I have a twisted sense of humor. I laugh at the dead and those in pain, so I'd imagine I count as a sadistic person. I'm quick-tempered and stubborn. Stubborn like a mule. I absolutely can't stand being told what to do. If you tell me to do something, I'd rather question why I should do it that get around to fulfilling out the order. Then again, I act before I think. But is that really so bad?
There's something else about me you should probably be aware of. I... have some serious anger issues. Unlike normal people who's anger is limited due to laws, social norms, and common sense, mine isn't. I have no limits when it comes to anger. I have a long reputation of lashing out at nearly every person or object that irritates or annoys me, whether it be verbally or physically. More often than not, its physical. Once I broke a kid's nose because he looked at me funny. Some say I'm bipolar because I'll be fine on minute, and the next I may be trying to kill you.
All-in-all, just don't mess with me. Like, seriously. My bad temper and sharp tongue can only be held back for so long. "


© havok braxton reid belongs to me/charmey. DO NOT STEAL
© format inspired by that of flare ♥
© all images to to their rightful owners
© face-claim is unknown

[yuki,]

(Accepted. ^-^)

[change;]

{ bump :3 }