Lucky x ● x Olivia x ● x Grace
❝ I hope life isn't a big joke, because I don't get it. ❞
❝ I hope life isn't a big joke, because I don't get it. ❞
───── 〔 Basics 〕────➨ Written on my birth certificate┇ Well, it depends on which birth certificate you're talking about. People at camp know me as Lucky Grace, but if you know me from somewhere else ... well, I'll get to that later.
➨ There's no need to be so formal┇ Oh, I don't know; Nathaniel calls me Lily sometimes, but whatever floats your boat.
➨ Another year older, another year wiser┇ Fifteen
➨ Last I checked I'm a┇ Female. Sorry if you can't tell that much from my chest.
➨ The way I flirt┇ Heterosexual
➨ The parent I never met┇ Hermes - the idiot who thinks he can make up for years of neglect with a snake.
➨ The one who raised me┇ Cecilia Rose Lilac; yeah, haha, two types of flowers in the same name, so very funny~! Get over yourself.
───── 〔 Me as a Person 〕────
⇨ Others describe me as┇ To start off, overall, I'm a pretty friendly, happy-go-lucky kind of girl. I'm always the first to introduce myself to strangers, and usually have a smile on my face. I have a very bubbly personality that can't help but uplift the spirits of those around me. I'm fairly optimistic about situations where most others aren't, but not overly so; if a situation is bad, and I know it's bad, then I'm going to say that it's bad. I'm a free spirit and don't like getting too tied down by anyone or anything; I mean, where would the fun in that be? Although I'm wealthy, it doesn't mean I'm the stereotypical girly snob who obsesses about her looks every second of every day; quite the opposite actually. I'm pretty independent and feel like kicking myself every time I can't get myself out of a problem, especially one I created for myself. I'm also very down-to-earth and have a sense of responsibility that my siblings may not possess as much. I'm perceptive of the thoughts and emotions of those around me and tend to think of the happiness of others before myself. I can be a smart a** if I want to though and don't have a problem with insulting you. I can be pretty ignorant of my own feelings; they can be staring at me butt naked in the face and I'll still need someone to spell it out for me. It's sad, I know. I'm a bit rebellious in nature and tend not to listen to those who think they know what's best for me; *cough* Chiron *cough* Nathaniel *cough*. Anyways, I'm not just made of sugary sweet things either; there's definitely some spice in me. I can be kind to those I feel deserve it, but just try getting on my bad side. I will most likely be cold, unresponsive, and feel the insatiable urge to rip your throat out. Heh. Oh, and one more thing! I'm not too trusting, so I'm not going to become anyone's close friend without time and proof they're not just using me. Mkay?
⇨ Let me tell a little story┇ My life? Oh, it's not quite so simple, but I guess I can try to tell you about it. My mother loved to travel; she was extremely enthusiastic about seeing every beautiful thing life had to offer, but her family wasn't exactly the richest in London. She'd gone on two trips to different parts of the world before and her heart yearned to see more, but money was tight, especially with her older sister, Layla heading off to college in Australia on an attendance-only scholarship. But even so, she was driven enough to take several language classes as well as geography and cultural ones in high school. My mom did well enough, and was given a scholarship to a college in Boston a year after her family found out about her sister's pregnancy with some guy who had already left her. Of course, her heart was broken at the fact that her parents disowned her sister, but promised herself she would transfer to the place Layla settled down to help her with whatever she needed.
My mother had participated in a foreign exchange student program with a college from Tokyo, Japan a month into her schooling. She was ecstatic, and naturally had to roam around Japan and any of the surrounding areas as much as she could. Another male student had obviously taken notice of her, enthusiasm and all, so had offered to act as her tour guide since he knew his way around eastern Asia pretty well. My mother accepted, and honestly? It might have been the worst mistake of her life. Their quick friendship had budded into something a bit more romantic, and wouldn't you know it, several months after they'd met, my mom was pregnant with me. Awesome right? Dead wrong. My mom's exchange program had ended, and she was shipped back to Boston with an unborn baby and her head spinning from a certain Greek god, who hadn't said a word about the reality of things to her.
And then I, Evaline Olivia Lilac was finally born.
My mom struggled to keep up with her studies while she tried to care for me after my birth. Not exactly the easiest job, I'm sure. After about a month, she pretty much just handed me over to various babysitters when she had to study, which was about half of her college life. I can't exactly blame her for leaving me in the care of strangers when I was so young; what would you do if your future depended on whether or not you got a college degree? Thought so. My mother was better at keeping secrets hidden than her older sister, so her parents sent her money and support when she needed it without knowing she had done the exact same thing as her sister before her, so her lifestyle was decent.
News of my aunt's settlement in grand old New York City reached my mom's ears a few months after my birth, and so naturally, she transferred to a college there so she could be with her. Both were pretty happy about the advantages of living with the other presented; Cecilia's sister could take care of me and she could help her sister make a life for herself there. It seems their lifestyles improved from then on, and my cousin, Nathaniel and I were familiar with each other from a young age, so I had a playmate. My mom graduated college when I turned four. It took a few years, but Layla was finally settled for the most part and my mom had found a nice house to live in at Boston, the city she loved and had always wanted to move back to. So teary goodbyes were exchanged, punches were thrown by Nathaniel and me (mainly me; I was a very violent child), and my mother and I caught a plane to Boston when I was five.
I was born and bred a Bostonian, forever rooting for the Red Sox and accustomed to watching reenactments of Paul Revere's ride on a yearly basis. Though, that was after I earned the nickname "Lucky" by my mother. You see, I was six and my mother and I were having a stroll around the park. The day was pretty windy and cloudy, but those are my favorite kind of days to be outside. My hat had fallen off my head, and when I went to chase after it, there was a lottery ticket right next to it on the ground. I gave it to my mother who had shrugged, smiled, and said, "Why not? It might be a winner! Let's go check." She was a very hopeful lady and though her income wasn't very much at the time, she always said things would get better if I was just patient. My mother took me to a local store to check for the winning numbers and guess what?
We turned into millionaires that same day.
Needless to say, our lives changed drastically afterwards. Money seemed to be no longer an issue and my mother could finally fulfill her dreams that had been so limited before. From then on, traveling was purely my life. We went everywhere, saw everything, did everything, and we never got tired of it. We were ignorant of the sorrows and grief that surrounded us, content in our own little bubble of happiness. I still went to school in Boston in between, and I found out early on that people were capable of using anyone and everyone else for their own greedy desires. I was taken advantage of a lot in elementary and middle school, so forgive me if I don't trust anyone right off the bat anymore. I did, however, manage to find two friends out of that mess: Charles and Katherine. They were ... strange people, I suppose, but they were still the only ones who stuck by me during my childhood, and I loved them with every ounce of my heart.
I've always thought I was just a tiny bit crazy. Ever since I was eight, I started seeing things. Weird things. Like a mammoth cat with metal spikes for a tail and a huge, slobbery black dog dripping poisonous saliva. They always seemed to be watching me, but they hardly ever struck. At one point, I did tell my mom about these incidents, but when she said she saw nothing and it was only my imagination run wild, I promptly shut up about it. For my twelfth birthday, my mother gave me a sapphire blue ring that fit my finger despite the small size and a golden heart-shaped locket as gifts. She said they had been left by my father before he had "died in a gruesome plane crash" and that she wanted me to have them now that I was older. The funny thing about my mom regarding my dad though; no pictures, no thrilling tales, not even a name was ever told to me, and I'm pretty sure she was puzzled at her sister's request never to say anything about him. Hell, I was puzzled too when I found out. But that's another story.
Anyways, you know how I said life couldn't get any better for me before? I was right; it only got worse. My thirteenth birthday was supposed to be blast; just a day out with my mom and my friends in good old Boston. Then everything changed. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but my house was set on fire that day. And I don't mean one of those puny fires that burn real slowly; it was a raging bonfire. All I can say is that I had seen some creepy shadows around the windows during breakfast, but had kept silent about it like I had done for years. It was when I was getting ready for the day out when I smelled the smoke, felt the heat, and heard the scream.
Honestly, I really don't know what happened next. My only focus was trying to get out of there alive, and hope my mother would too. Eventually, I made it out mostly unscathed, but the awful things is, my mother didn't. Her remains had been burned beyond recognition, or so I've been told. That first day was pretty heart wrenching, and so most of what I noticed were nothing more than comforting hugs, soothing words, and the sensation of slamming against a wall and burning my side during my escape from the burning home. The next day was worse; much, much worse. I was being accused of arson and of murdering my mother, was stuffed in a juvenile detention center, and a trial date had already been set. Well, I sure as hell didn't do anything like that, and was pretty angry they'd accuse of me something of that degree.
Naturally, I escaped easily, and if I hadn't been a criminal already, I was now. I knew I had a few hours max before my escape reached the ears of the guards and the police would be on my tail so had to be quick about whatever I planned to do. I was only thirteen and being a fugitive forever was really the last thing I wanted at that point. That was when I came up with the brilliant idea to fake my death. It was a bit unorthodox, not to mention difficult, but I managed with a cleverly written suicide note, throwing some of my belongings in a river (I don't even know which one it was ...), and speeding up the process with a nicely forged death certificate. And in a matter of a day, Evaline Lilac had died from grief concerning her mother's death. I almost went through with killing myself too, but some creepy voice in the back of my head told me to hang in there for just a little longer ... Whatever. I listen to odd voices from my subconscious; deal with it.
Anyhow, with that nuisance done and over with, another question remained. Where would I go? Of course, Nathaniel and his mother were still living in New York and it would have been cake to go there, but I didn't. I'm pretty sure they were cursing my name because they thought I really had murdered my mom, and if they didn't, I knew danger was following my everywhere I went, and I couldn't stand the thought of them dying because of me too.
So essentially, I ran away from home.
Not a fun two years at all, let me tell you. The night I ran away from Boston, the monsters could already smell fresh meat, and I was chased all the way to Maryland. My first encounter with a mythical monster was pretty bloody (most of the blood supplied by me), but that same voice that told me not to go off and kill myself told me how to make the ring and locket into a shield and sword. From then on, it was simple; the sword was made for me and only me, and we kicked a** pretty well together, if I do say so myself. After Maryland, I was chased all across the country by various monsters and whenever I saw someone I knew from Boston (as rare an event as it was), I was out of there faster than the blink of an eye. I was now stealing food from grocery stores and whenever I was injured - which happened quite a lot - I learned how to treat myself. If it was really serious, I stole money and bribed the doctors to take me in for a few days. It's sad, really; all that money I could have used was pretty much just rotting away in a bank account I had put it in before faking my death, just waiting for me to open it. But I couldn't; I lost all the necessary information written down on scrap paper somewhere in Virginia.
Moreover, I got a closer look at the US then I ever really wanted to and reality pretty much came tumbling down on me. I was no longer that peppy little Bostonian girl who had cash to burn; I was a fugitive, a runaway, and monsters seemed to like me a lot. I didn't really have much of an explanation for their constant appearance; I just got used to it, I guess. You don't tend to question things when doing so means getting eaten. Anyways, I ended up in an amusement park in South Carolina, chased by an empousa. I was beyond exhausted that day. So when some teenage guy with furry hindquarters came to save the day, I didn't bat an eyelash; I merely curled up somewhere in the corner and took a short nap while I let the goat man save the day. Not your classic heroics, but hey, I'm not not your classic heroine either.
So the goat dude woke me up an hour or so later, having killed the damn thing, and told me it was time I got settled at Camp Half-Blood. He explained everything to me over a nice hot meal in a small cafe later; my father was a Greek god, I was his child, and apparently every Greek monster in the vicinity wanted to have me for their next breakfast. It was definitely not the explanation I had been looking for regarding my past, but I suppose it worked. Finally, he asked for my name, and I said the first two words that popped into my head: Lucky Grace. "Lucky", as in the nickname my mother gave me, and "Grace" as my grandmother's maiden name. The satyr bought it without a hitch and the next day I was headed to camp, my brand new home.
⇨ Others describe me as┇ To start off, overall, I'm a pretty friendly, happy-go-lucky kind of girl. I'm always the first to introduce myself to strangers, and usually have a smile on my face. I have a very bubbly personality that can't help but uplift the spirits of those around me. I'm fairly optimistic about situations where most others aren't, but not overly so; if a situation is bad, and I know it's bad, then I'm going to say that it's bad. I'm a free spirit and don't like getting too tied down by anyone or anything; I mean, where would the fun in that be? Although I'm wealthy, it doesn't mean I'm the stereotypical girly snob who obsesses about her looks every second of every day; quite the opposite actually. I'm pretty independent and feel like kicking myself every time I can't get myself out of a problem, especially one I created for myself. I'm also very down-to-earth and have a sense of responsibility that my siblings may not possess as much. I'm perceptive of the thoughts and emotions of those around me and tend to think of the happiness of others before myself. I can be a smart a** if I want to though and don't have a problem with insulting you. I can be pretty ignorant of my own feelings; they can be staring at me butt naked in the face and I'll still need someone to spell it out for me. It's sad, I know. I'm a bit rebellious in nature and tend not to listen to those who think they know what's best for me; *cough* Chiron *cough* Nathaniel *cough*. Anyways, I'm not just made of sugary sweet things either; there's definitely some spice in me. I can be kind to those I feel deserve it, but just try getting on my bad side. I will most likely be cold, unresponsive, and feel the insatiable urge to rip your throat out. Heh. Oh, and one more thing! I'm not too trusting, so I'm not going to become anyone's close friend without time and proof they're not just using me. Mkay?
⇨ Let me tell a little story┇ My life? Oh, it's not quite so simple, but I guess I can try to tell you about it. My mother loved to travel; she was extremely enthusiastic about seeing every beautiful thing life had to offer, but her family wasn't exactly the richest in London. She'd gone on two trips to different parts of the world before and her heart yearned to see more, but money was tight, especially with her older sister, Layla heading off to college in Australia on an attendance-only scholarship. But even so, she was driven enough to take several language classes as well as geography and cultural ones in high school. My mom did well enough, and was given a scholarship to a college in Boston a year after her family found out about her sister's pregnancy with some guy who had already left her. Of course, her heart was broken at the fact that her parents disowned her sister, but promised herself she would transfer to the place Layla settled down to help her with whatever she needed.
My mother had participated in a foreign exchange student program with a college from Tokyo, Japan a month into her schooling. She was ecstatic, and naturally had to roam around Japan and any of the surrounding areas as much as she could. Another male student had obviously taken notice of her, enthusiasm and all, so had offered to act as her tour guide since he knew his way around eastern Asia pretty well. My mother accepted, and honestly? It might have been the worst mistake of her life. Their quick friendship had budded into something a bit more romantic, and wouldn't you know it, several months after they'd met, my mom was pregnant with me. Awesome right? Dead wrong. My mom's exchange program had ended, and she was shipped back to Boston with an unborn baby and her head spinning from a certain Greek god, who hadn't said a word about the reality of things to her.
And then I, Evaline Olivia Lilac was finally born.
My mom struggled to keep up with her studies while she tried to care for me after my birth. Not exactly the easiest job, I'm sure. After about a month, she pretty much just handed me over to various babysitters when she had to study, which was about half of her college life. I can't exactly blame her for leaving me in the care of strangers when I was so young; what would you do if your future depended on whether or not you got a college degree? Thought so. My mother was better at keeping secrets hidden than her older sister, so her parents sent her money and support when she needed it without knowing she had done the exact same thing as her sister before her, so her lifestyle was decent.
News of my aunt's settlement in grand old New York City reached my mom's ears a few months after my birth, and so naturally, she transferred to a college there so she could be with her. Both were pretty happy about the advantages of living with the other presented; Cecilia's sister could take care of me and she could help her sister make a life for herself there. It seems their lifestyles improved from then on, and my cousin, Nathaniel and I were familiar with each other from a young age, so I had a playmate. My mom graduated college when I turned four. It took a few years, but Layla was finally settled for the most part and my mom had found a nice house to live in at Boston, the city she loved and had always wanted to move back to. So teary goodbyes were exchanged, punches were thrown by Nathaniel and me (mainly me; I was a very violent child), and my mother and I caught a plane to Boston when I was five.
I was born and bred a Bostonian, forever rooting for the Red Sox and accustomed to watching reenactments of Paul Revere's ride on a yearly basis. Though, that was after I earned the nickname "Lucky" by my mother. You see, I was six and my mother and I were having a stroll around the park. The day was pretty windy and cloudy, but those are my favorite kind of days to be outside. My hat had fallen off my head, and when I went to chase after it, there was a lottery ticket right next to it on the ground. I gave it to my mother who had shrugged, smiled, and said, "Why not? It might be a winner! Let's go check." She was a very hopeful lady and though her income wasn't very much at the time, she always said things would get better if I was just patient. My mother took me to a local store to check for the winning numbers and guess what?
We turned into millionaires that same day.
Needless to say, our lives changed drastically afterwards. Money seemed to be no longer an issue and my mother could finally fulfill her dreams that had been so limited before. From then on, traveling was purely my life. We went everywhere, saw everything, did everything, and we never got tired of it. We were ignorant of the sorrows and grief that surrounded us, content in our own little bubble of happiness. I still went to school in Boston in between, and I found out early on that people were capable of using anyone and everyone else for their own greedy desires. I was taken advantage of a lot in elementary and middle school, so forgive me if I don't trust anyone right off the bat anymore. I did, however, manage to find two friends out of that mess: Charles and Katherine. They were ... strange people, I suppose, but they were still the only ones who stuck by me during my childhood, and I loved them with every ounce of my heart.
I've always thought I was just a tiny bit crazy. Ever since I was eight, I started seeing things. Weird things. Like a mammoth cat with metal spikes for a tail and a huge, slobbery black dog dripping poisonous saliva. They always seemed to be watching me, but they hardly ever struck. At one point, I did tell my mom about these incidents, but when she said she saw nothing and it was only my imagination run wild, I promptly shut up about it. For my twelfth birthday, my mother gave me a sapphire blue ring that fit my finger despite the small size and a golden heart-shaped locket as gifts. She said they had been left by my father before he had "died in a gruesome plane crash" and that she wanted me to have them now that I was older. The funny thing about my mom regarding my dad though; no pictures, no thrilling tales, not even a name was ever told to me, and I'm pretty sure she was puzzled at her sister's request never to say anything about him. Hell, I was puzzled too when I found out. But that's another story.
Anyways, you know how I said life couldn't get any better for me before? I was right; it only got worse. My thirteenth birthday was supposed to be blast; just a day out with my mom and my friends in good old Boston. Then everything changed. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but my house was set on fire that day. And I don't mean one of those puny fires that burn real slowly; it was a raging bonfire. All I can say is that I had seen some creepy shadows around the windows during breakfast, but had kept silent about it like I had done for years. It was when I was getting ready for the day out when I smelled the smoke, felt the heat, and heard the scream.
Honestly, I really don't know what happened next. My only focus was trying to get out of there alive, and hope my mother would too. Eventually, I made it out mostly unscathed, but the awful things is, my mother didn't. Her remains had been burned beyond recognition, or so I've been told. That first day was pretty heart wrenching, and so most of what I noticed were nothing more than comforting hugs, soothing words, and the sensation of slamming against a wall and burning my side during my escape from the burning home. The next day was worse; much, much worse. I was being accused of arson and of murdering my mother, was stuffed in a juvenile detention center, and a trial date had already been set. Well, I sure as hell didn't do anything like that, and was pretty angry they'd accuse of me something of that degree.
Naturally, I escaped easily, and if I hadn't been a criminal already, I was now. I knew I had a few hours max before my escape reached the ears of the guards and the police would be on my tail so had to be quick about whatever I planned to do. I was only thirteen and being a fugitive forever was really the last thing I wanted at that point. That was when I came up with the brilliant idea to fake my death. It was a bit unorthodox, not to mention difficult, but I managed with a cleverly written suicide note, throwing some of my belongings in a river (I don't even know which one it was ...), and speeding up the process with a nicely forged death certificate. And in a matter of a day, Evaline Lilac had died from grief concerning her mother's death. I almost went through with killing myself too, but some creepy voice in the back of my head told me to hang in there for just a little longer ... Whatever. I listen to odd voices from my subconscious; deal with it.
Anyhow, with that nuisance done and over with, another question remained. Where would I go? Of course, Nathaniel and his mother were still living in New York and it would have been cake to go there, but I didn't. I'm pretty sure they were cursing my name because they thought I really had murdered my mom, and if they didn't, I knew danger was following my everywhere I went, and I couldn't stand the thought of them dying because of me too.
So essentially, I ran away from home.
Not a fun two years at all, let me tell you. The night I ran away from Boston, the monsters could already smell fresh meat, and I was chased all the way to Maryland. My first encounter with a mythical monster was pretty bloody (most of the blood supplied by me), but that same voice that told me not to go off and kill myself told me how to make the ring and locket into a shield and sword. From then on, it was simple; the sword was made for me and only me, and we kicked a** pretty well together, if I do say so myself. After Maryland, I was chased all across the country by various monsters and whenever I saw someone I knew from Boston (as rare an event as it was), I was out of there faster than the blink of an eye. I was now stealing food from grocery stores and whenever I was injured - which happened quite a lot - I learned how to treat myself. If it was really serious, I stole money and bribed the doctors to take me in for a few days. It's sad, really; all that money I could have used was pretty much just rotting away in a bank account I had put it in before faking my death, just waiting for me to open it. But I couldn't; I lost all the necessary information written down on scrap paper somewhere in Virginia.
Moreover, I got a closer look at the US then I ever really wanted to and reality pretty much came tumbling down on me. I was no longer that peppy little Bostonian girl who had cash to burn; I was a fugitive, a runaway, and monsters seemed to like me a lot. I didn't really have much of an explanation for their constant appearance; I just got used to it, I guess. You don't tend to question things when doing so means getting eaten. Anyways, I ended up in an amusement park in South Carolina, chased by an empousa. I was beyond exhausted that day. So when some teenage guy with furry hindquarters came to save the day, I didn't bat an eyelash; I merely curled up somewhere in the corner and took a short nap while I let the goat man save the day. Not your classic heroics, but hey, I'm not not your classic heroine either.
So the goat dude woke me up an hour or so later, having killed the damn thing, and told me it was time I got settled at Camp Half-Blood. He explained everything to me over a nice hot meal in a small cafe later; my father was a Greek god, I was his child, and apparently every Greek monster in the vicinity wanted to have me for their next breakfast. It was definitely not the explanation I had been looking for regarding my past, but I suppose it worked. Finally, he asked for my name, and I said the first two words that popped into my head: Lucky Grace. "Lucky", as in the nickname my mother gave me, and "Grace" as my grandmother's maiden name. The satyr bought it without a hitch and the next day I was headed to camp, my brand new home.
───── 〔 Little Details 〕────
➲ This makes me Special┇ Skills? Well, to start off, I'm quick. My family has always consisted of good runners, but when I run, all you see is a blur of color. I've been in several marathons before and won first place for every single one of them. I can knit too (surprise!). My mom loved to knit in her spare time and I was interested enough to ask her to teach me. I can make real pretty designs and what I knit doesn't even look that dorky. Usually. I'm a quick learner, especially when it comes to new languages and mathematics. From my travels around the world, I've learned a lot about different countries and cultures, so I'm pretty educated in that area. Not many people know this, but I can sing pretty darn well. Not that I'm going to show it off very much to anyone. Pickpocketing, bribery, and I go hand in hand. Also, I'm an excellent photographer and can dance fairly well.
➲ My Weapons of choice┇ My father left me a couple items for me to use when I learned just who he was. I have a golden locket that when opened has two pictures; one is taken of my mother with the background being the Great Pyramid and the other is one of Nathaniel at age 13 with his mother in New York. It can also turn into a beautiful hand-and-a-half sword with an intricate golden hilt. I was given a sapphire ring as well that can transform into a buckler shield.
➲ Gimme┇ Running, racing, shopping, collecting souvenirs, eating foreign cuisines, learning new languages, music, pulling pranks, being in the rain, friends and family
➲ Take them away┇ My father, arrogance, snobs, players, my father, being used, being helpless, depending too much on others, my father, war, killjoys, patriarchy, and did I mention my father?
➲ My kryptonite┇ Pfft, do you really think I would know? Though if you figure it out, feel free to drop by and tell me what may lead to my eventual demise.
➲ Want to know more┇ I'm often told my most distinct physical feature is my eyes; they're a stunning sapphire blue with gray specks. But when I get mad, those gray specks seem to darken and gather so that it looks like a storm is rolling in on a clear blue sky. Also, I have a large leather bound photo album with pictures collected from my travels; it was one of the few things I managed to save from the fire. It's always with me hidden in my backpack and I often look through it at least once before I go to bed for the night. In recent times, I attended a quest with Vincent Nevio, the Gems of Cosmos, and got a pet familiar out of it. Lucifer is a black mamba who Hermes sent to protect me when I was thirteen but came just a little too late; he's deadly, overprotective, and seriously old-fashioned. Oh! And I told you about Nathaniel right? He's my cousin, though I haven't seen him in over two years. Apparently, he's some great son of Poseidon here at camp. When he figures out I'm alive, I am going to be in so much trouble ....
➲ This makes me Special┇ Skills? Well, to start off, I'm quick. My family has always consisted of good runners, but when I run, all you see is a blur of color. I've been in several marathons before and won first place for every single one of them. I can knit too (surprise!). My mom loved to knit in her spare time and I was interested enough to ask her to teach me. I can make real pretty designs and what I knit doesn't even look that dorky. Usually. I'm a quick learner, especially when it comes to new languages and mathematics. From my travels around the world, I've learned a lot about different countries and cultures, so I'm pretty educated in that area. Not many people know this, but I can sing pretty darn well. Not that I'm going to show it off very much to anyone. Pickpocketing, bribery, and I go hand in hand. Also, I'm an excellent photographer and can dance fairly well.
➲ My Weapons of choice┇ My father left me a couple items for me to use when I learned just who he was. I have a golden locket that when opened has two pictures; one is taken of my mother with the background being the Great Pyramid and the other is one of Nathaniel at age 13 with his mother in New York. It can also turn into a beautiful hand-and-a-half sword with an intricate golden hilt. I was given a sapphire ring as well that can transform into a buckler shield.
➲ Gimme┇ Running, racing, shopping, collecting souvenirs, eating foreign cuisines, learning new languages, music, pulling pranks, being in the rain, friends and family
➲ Take them away┇ My father, arrogance, snobs, players, my father, being used, being helpless, depending too much on others, my father, war, killjoys, patriarchy, and did I mention my father?
➲ My kryptonite┇ Pfft, do you really think I would know? Though if you figure it out, feel free to drop by and tell me what may lead to my eventual demise.
➲ Want to know more┇ I'm often told my most distinct physical feature is my eyes; they're a stunning sapphire blue with gray specks. But when I get mad, those gray specks seem to darken and gather so that it looks like a storm is rolling in on a clear blue sky. Also, I have a large leather bound photo album with pictures collected from my travels; it was one of the few things I managed to save from the fire. It's always with me hidden in my backpack and I often look through it at least once before I go to bed for the night. In recent times, I attended a quest with Vincent Nevio, the Gems of Cosmos, and got a pet familiar out of it. Lucifer is a black mamba who Hermes sent to protect me when I was thirteen but came just a little too late; he's deadly, overprotective, and seriously old-fashioned. Oh! And I told you about Nathaniel right? He's my cousin, though I haven't seen him in over two years. Apparently, he's some great son of Poseidon here at camp. When he figures out I'm alive, I am going to be in so much trouble ....
───── 〔 Behind the Mask 〕────
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