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 Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2012 5:02 pm
❖ ❖ T h e B a s i c s ❖ ❖
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☾ Name ☼ Jolene ○ May ○ Harris ☽
☾ Age ☼ Twenty-Two ☽
☾ Godly Parent ☼ Nyx ☽
☾ Sexuality ☼ Bi-Curious ☽
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Posted: Thu Mar 01, 2012 3:14 pm
❖ ❖ D i g g i n g D e e p e r ❖ ❖
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What does the birth certificate state?
Charlotte Marie Bentley
What should it really say?
Jolene May Harris, or Jo for short
The number of candles that you blew out this year?
22
The day that you get free cake?
April 1st
What do team you play for?
I'd say that I'm relatively normal, but some girls really do strike my attention.
How many beads you have on your necklace?
Eh, this is my second year here, so I guess that means 1 so far, and I'll be getting another one this year.
Where can I find you?
I'm usually holed up in the Nyx cabin, but you can usually find me at Strawberry Fields during the nighttime. The panoramic view of the night sky is simply fantastic.
Which one of your parents did you say that you loved?
That would be the great Malcolm Bentley, aka major Greek Mythology nut. He was a researcher, but he's deceased now.
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Posted: Thu Mar 01, 2012 3:15 pm
 ❖ ❖ T h e O u t e r S h e l l ❖ ❖
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What's that on your head?
A bit blunt, aren't you? Well that happens to be my silky black hair that is somehow natural, despite Dad being a strawberry blonde. I guess She was a raven haired lady.
Why do you keep staring?
Geez, a bit infatuated with the physical side, aren't you? Well, this happens to be my eyes. They're a light and airy blue, but occasionally in the sun they can appear to be a glimpse of teal.
Kind of slim, aren't you? Have you been eating enough?
I guess, I probably went a bit overboard during that one time that I was dieting, but it's not that bad. I've definitely seen way worse, so don't judge that harshly! I'm definitely slim, and some people have called me out for it - saying that I look like a stick figure.
Geez Louise! You're pretty tall for a kid, how tall are you?
Ok, you might need glasses. If you're disillusioned to think that 5'6 is tall - you need to go meet some of the people around here. 5'6 is average, sheesh!
Can you step on the scale again?
I'm 108 pounds, but shame on you. Don't you know that you are never to ask a woman for her weight? Somebody needs to learn some manners, and it definitely isn't me, despite that usually being the case.
To sum it up, what do you look like?
Well, you've got eyes on the top of your head - why don't you look? Whatever. I'm certainly no Aphrodite. I look like your average 5'6 girl with 34C as my bra size. Wait, are we talking about my 3 measurements? No? Whoops, well - that's out in the open for ya, in case you were curious. I was born as a raven-haired beauty, and I'll admit that I've got quite a few little inks scattered across my body. The most prominent one being the 'When you wish upon a star' that's elegantly covered from shoulder to shoulder on my upper chest piece. There's also a full out colored one on my left arm of Snow White and her darling Prince carrying her off, and a cute little Totoro, a character from Miyazaki's movie, on the lower right of my abdomen. If you get to know me well enough, eh - there's one more that you could possibly take a liking too. I supposed that means that I'm not quite 'pure' in all aspects - or any at all. I've also got some piercings as well. Both of my ear lobes are pierced twice, and they both have the helix piercing which is the upper ear part or the 'cartilage'. (Look, I'm even teaching you guys, aren't you grateful?) My right ear has an antihelix piercing or a 'snug' piercing as well. My body isn't that damaged though. I'm proud to say that I've never done any of that strange tanning business where you come out looking like a jar of Nutella, nor has my silky hair ever been bleached or dyed. I'm a pale white girl - to put it simply. I don't give a f*ck about my appearance, so you usually see me in random stuff that I feel like wearing, be it my ex-boyfriend's t-shirt to even his boxers. Some people say it matches though. Is that good enough?
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Posted: Thu Mar 01, 2012 3:16 pm
 ❖ ❖ B e h i n d T h e S m i l e s ❖ ❖
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Just how bitchy are you?
I'm up in that Tier 1 type b***h. I don't give a f*ck about what you say, and I'll say my own opinions freely. Seriously, you people just don't understand - I've been through too much crap to NOT be able to act the way I want, so here's just a warning to ya - if I don't like you, I don't like you.
How can we bribe you?
✓ Night
✓ Constellations
✓ Dad
✓ Pierce
✓ Tattoos
✓ Piercings
Those are only a few, of course, there's still other random bad sh*t that I happen to do like smoking a few and sex. If I'm doing it, then obviously - I like it, duh. Oh, but the one thing that I really like would be the night sky. It's a gem, especially if you notice all the constellations, wait, I already listed that, didn't I?
What should we stay away from to avoid getting murdered?
✗ Sunlight
✗ Wannabes
✗ Thunderstorms
✗ School
✗ Monsters
✗ Mr. D
What really ticks me off though, that's probably my precious 'Mother' who didn't even bother to show up at all in my 22 years of shitty life. I mean seriously, 22 years! Not even once, isn't that a bit too much? She just aggravates me. I think that I'll enjoy punching her face in when I meet her, but nooooo. She's a goddess. At least claim me, so I can figure out who I'm going to pick a fight with.
What really gets under your skin?
☂ Mummy Dearest.
☂ Bimbos who think that they're the sh*t.
☂ People who try to smartass my comments and turn them against me.
☂ Not being able to use my iPod without being chased down by a monster.
☂ Ares' campers who think that everything I say is a provocation for a fight.
You're not afraid, are you?
❂ Being along is probably the scariest thing.
❂ I don't trust anybody. Everybody is a possible threat.
❂ Love and commitment seem like words that can never be fulfilled. I don't want a heart break.
❂ I really wish that Pierce was here.
❂ I hate this life.
Any unique things? Maybe you're ambidextrous!
☄ I know all of the lyrics to all Panic! At the Disco songs.
☄ I can put my foot behind my head. You know what they say, flexible people are better in bed.
☄ I'm an excellent kisser.
☄ I know more curse words that you'd ever imagine.
☄ I'm fluent in sarcasm.
Please don't swing that pointy object in my face!
Aren't you a bit too rude? He has a name! Erastus is my trusty buddy too. Dad gave him to me when I was younger. Pierce, when he was around, was my first 'weapon'/'shield' type thing, and after that, Erastus - my trusty dagger that's coated in black paint, but underneath is celestial bronze - yeah that one? Mhm, he's real handy. Do you wanna give it a try? We can see how sharp Erastus really is.
Are you up for a little fun?
Yeah, I guess. Flings are better cool with me, and I think that I'm better suited for being single.
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Posted: Thu Mar 01, 2012 3:18 pm
 ❖ ❖ T h e F o r g o t t e n M e m o r i e s ❖ ❖
░░░░ ☆ ░░░░░░░ ☆ ░░░░
Please, enlighten us with your tragic past.
If you insist...
I've never been normal. Ever. My whole life, I've been fleeing from normality to be honest. Mainstream was not what I enjoyed, nor were the people of crowded towns and loud urban areas, but on the other hand - I wasn't a country hick who grew up mashing potatoes with my bare hands or anything like that. I’m actually quite the opposite; some would call me the antagonist. Stealing government secrets, fleeing halfway across the country, abandoning my poor father, being stalked by half-goat creatures, and the target of most mad men. You should know by now, I’m a demigod. That classifies me under ‘Freak’. My name is Jolene May Harris, and people call me Jo. Ok, not really ‘people’, but rather one person. I mean, if he was still around that is - I'm sure he would have called me Jo... We’ll get to him in a bit. If you try calling me Jo, I’ll poke you with my best friend, and when I say poke – I mean stab. You’re definitely not my best friend either, that’s by far not your status. Friend would be the lovely blade that I’m holding in my hand. You see this black beauty? It’s perfect for the quick slash. A black coated dagger that was gently dipped in celestial bronze before being bestowed upon me from him.
I suppose that I should correct some things before we continue with this dumb dialogue between you and I. Jolene May Harris is definitely not the name that you would find on my birth certificate; that is – if you can even locate that. My father originally named me Charlotte Marie Bentley, and he loved calling me Lottie. My current name, I chose it myself, and I don’t think it’s too shabby. If you plan to disagree, talk it out with Erastus, my good dagger. Hm, what else? Let’s see. I’m 22 years of age, and I think that it’s a decent one at that, only 22 shitty years. On the bright side, I lived past my own expectations. I honestly didn’t think that I’d make it past high school. What a crappy memory. It really sucked, but then again – as a demigod, nothing is really ‘easy’. Especially when you have monsters trailing you with malicious intentions to do some weird crap with your body. Woo-hoo.
Ah, my personality? Let’s see. I’m what people like to classify under ‘b***h’. Yes, with a capital B. I appear to many as a wild party animal, but hey – that was just me living my life out as a stereotypical teen. We’re supposed to get drunk and laid, right? Or maybe I wasn’t on the same page as everybody else during Health class. This just gives you a feel of how weird I am right? Probably ‘freaky’ is the better word. You know how most little girls liked Barbie dolls? And how they fan-gasmed over the ‘Happy Ever After’ type endings? Well, let’s just say that I didn’t for a lack of a better clarification. I drooled over drawings of the Underworld and dark, creepy, and crawly things, but for the majority of that – I have my dad to blame. Dad’s not quite normal either. He’s a bit eccentric, and quite the oddball as well. After all, he was the one who read me mythology stories to lull me to sleep, but not the yay-yay-Disney ending types, but the bloody and gruesome ones, which are probably attributes to my slight sadistic side. No worries, I’m a bit masochistic as well – so technically, it evens out, right?
I’m blunt and straightforward. If I don’t like the way that you’re sassing me, I’ll tell it to your face. I don’t care if you go crying to your mom, honestly. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I’m conceited, but I guess that we can go with ‘rebellious’. I don’t like rules. They put me down and cage me. That’s not how the world is supposed to work. My world is run by me, and me only. It may seem like I’m being egocentric, but that’s the truth. Our world is filled with pretty girls and bitchy attitudes, but it’s also drenched in blood and greed. The world loves the pretty girls, and the rest are quietly shoved to the side until they pop up again. If the world loves pretty girls, then naturally – as a result of cause-effect, I am loved by the world, but I don’t love myself. People compliment my natural beauty that is mostly accentuated with eyeliner and mascara. My eyes are a light and airy blue, but despite how many strokes that I apply around it – the mirror laughs in my face. I’m ugly, but so is everybody else – be it the personality or the face, that’s just the damned truth. People adorn themselves with pretty things because they want the compliments. They want the attention, and I’ll admit right now – I am the same. I crack jokes that I think are going to make others laugh, I act cutesy around guys to get their attention, and I’m just the same as the person next to me. I bet you’re trying to deny it, right? Don’t bother. The voice inside the back of your mind is telling the truth, the lies that you spread to yourself as protection aren’t. You’re ugly. I’m ugly. We’re all ugly.
People are complete opposites, and they say that opposites attract. I won’t state my opinion on the matter because I find it dumb. People gravitate towards others because they “complete each other as a whole?” Not a single chance in Tartarus. Everything is predestined by fate. The 3 old hags that we talked about in Shakespeare? That’s them. They’re the Fates. They cut the strings and connect one with another. The red string of love – it’s not a string of love, but rather a string of blood. Deaths occur daily, and so do births. In fact, everything happens for a reason. A man dies after he was hit by a train; that same second, a brown eyed baby is born as the mother coos at him happily. I don’t know. This topic’s confusing, so let’s move on.
I suppose that I should talk about my dad a bit. After all, he is my sole family. The Bentleys are notorious for having only child’s. My dad grew up alone, and so did his mother. They even carried on this trait as far as to marry those who were the only child, so I’m not different. The past is quite simple for me. Grandma was gone before I even knew her – diagnosed with cancer and unable to be saved, however harsh that sounds, it was reality. Grandpa wasn’t much better. Grandma Marianne died, and he just followed suit. They say that he died peacefully in his sleep in the autopsies, but I’m convinced that it was suicide. After all, Grandma Marianne was all he talked about when I went over to visit as a little 5 year old.
Oh yeah, I see things that most people don’t. Perhaps it’s a hint at my genius, but I doubt it. I’m not out of the ordinary with intelligence, seeing how I rarely attend school, but I do note that I’m quite astute. Lots of rather things quickly catch my attention, like my neighbor who I noticed to be the same as me. I saw things in the world that were exactly the same as my dad’s descriptions of those Greek myths. When I told my dad, he didn’t send me to a psychologist or anything. He would smile as the corners of his eyes wrinkled up as he told me the same thing, “I wish I could see them too,” he said before his low chuckle rang in my ears. I often spent time explaining in detail the things that I saw, and one day – something changed. I was actually chased by one. Pursued by a vicious beast that I could immediately recognize as a Cyclopes, I didn’t know what to do. This was my dear neighbor for crying out loud! Only 3 blocks away, and on my daily walk, she decided that she wanted my head. I froze up before it all clicked. Run.
I ran for my life, and somehow my unathletic feet brought me home to my dad as I frantically explained in my scared 11 year old voice. That night, we left as quickly as possible. He explained to me that we were going to Florida and calmed my nerves. This was the one time that I was curious about my origins. Why was I so different? I asked my dad, and all he did was smile before closing his eyes and going to sleep. I didn’t get anything, but that night – I did gain something important. Trust. Beside me was a boy who was 12. His name was Pierce, Pierce Waters. As Dad slept, he started a conversation. We had similar likes, and I realized that he did the same things that I did. He understood my worries about the society falling into darkness. He was perfect. I learned from him that he was an orphan, well – that was the story that we sold to Dad. He actually ran away from home. His mother was abusive, and he said that his father had left the house before he even knew him – leaving him all alone with his alcoholic mom. Maybe it was destined that he was a fellow ‘only child’. We exchanged stories and giggled as I looked out of the airplane window. The most beautiful sight that I had ever seen. The sun rising in the horizon as we glided over a beach. It was fantastic, and perhaps – it was even better than the night sky, but that was hard to say.
When my dad finally awoke, I introduced him to Pierce, and my dad – being the nicest guy on Earth, quickly offered him shelter at our home as he completely bought the orphanage sob story. In Florida, it seemed relatively quiet. No random monsters. Pierce was great as well. I finally had a friend. We talked all night and grew up together until I was 16. The biggest attack yet. Pierce was talking on his phone while I watched TV. We were waiting for my dad to come back with the pizza, and then the house shook. Pierce immediately hung up as I walked casually to his side. We were used to these, and despite never telling Pierce about my ‘skills’ of seeing monsters, I was sure that he knew. My heart stopped pounding loudly when I saw dad at the door as we both erupted into smiles. I stopped mid-step as I was about to run over and greet him. I couldn’t – no way, this was a doppelganger. I couldn’t move as I felt a numbness fall through my spine. “P-Pierce!” I shouted as my mouth moved, but nothing came out. Too late. My best friend ran over to ‘Dad’ and wrapped him into a hug before he spoke, “So where’s the piz—” Gush. A blood bath. My ‘Dad’ was now drenched in red as he grinned at me, “I’m home,” he said in a sing-song tone as I felt my feet plastered to the ground, incapable of movement. I knew what had happened. They were dead.
I ran. Never stopped running either. I just kept going without looking back. Boarding the first plane, I had my dad’s cash and a small black box with unknown contents from the bank in one hand and a balled up fist in the other. “Where to?” asked the cashier. I just gave a light shrug before randomly pointing at one destination. I walked onto the plane, and for the first time – I honestly felt fear. The fear of death.
After that suspenseful night, nothing could ever compare. I walked on the plane, taking a seat by the window as I stared in the black and murky dark sky. Twinkle twinkle little star. A glimmer of light shined as I stared, completely apathetic. I lost them. My family – my only family. As we drifted in the night sky, a tear trickled down the side of my cheek. The last time that I showed any sort of actual emotion that could indicate that I was human. I finally stopped looking at the mesmerizing night sky and glanced down at the black box that was in my hand. My cash was shoved in my pocket, and this was all that I had time to do after I was a good 15 miles away from our home. I lifted the box, leveling it with my eye – feeling like Pandora as I could only imagine the despair that awaited me. I saw a small lock and frowned. Wait. This was familiar. As my eyebrows knitted together, my hands clasped around my necklace that my father gave me when I was born. He told me that it had a name too. Erastus. Unclasping the necklace, I shivered slightly before bringing the key to my lips, whispering its name in hopes that it would guide me, “Erastus,” I murmured as I kissed the key, holding it by the edge while I inserted it in the lock. Taking a deep breath, I turned as a light click was heard. The box was open. My hands fumbled with it for a cursory moment before I finally opened it. Two slips of paper were in it, along with an engraving on the top of the box.
[ My dearest daughter, Charlotte Bentley ]
I felt my fists tighten as I put the necklace on one more, taking out one of the slips. With my dad’s familiar cursive, it was addressed to me. I read it as I could hear his voice behind me, narrating. He told me that if I was reading this letter – then most likely, he was either in some sort of trouble or dead. He went on and praised me for making it so far. My emotions were welling up. He was really gone. Dad went on though, telling me that the necklace around my neck wasn’t a normal necklace. It was a dagger, and all that I had to do to use the dagger in my time of need was to press it to my lips gently and say, ‘Erastus, awaken!’ I was doubtful, but then I realized that he had no reason to lie to me in his last letter. A sigh escaped as I put it away, back in the box. I took out the other sheet that was in an unfamiliar loopy handwriting with the following note scribbled on it.
Dearest Malcolm,
The baby girl in the cradle – she’s your daughter.
I’m sorry for running off without saying anything, but you need to hear the following.
It’s crucial for both your and her future.
I’m not human, as you may have guessed already, and it sounds like a stretch, but I’m an immortal.
You probably already know my true identity, but that’s not important.
This girl is our child, and she will accomplish great things.
She will be different.
She is a demigod.
When she matures or when strange things begin to happen, please send her to the following address.
Camp Half-Blood
Half-Blood Hill, Farm Road 3.141
Long Island, New York 11954
Love Always,
Mallory
I tensed after reading the letter. What in the world? I was a demigod? Oh, that’s nice. "Psych – by the way, you’re the eternal target for monsters! Congrats! Here’s a few million dollars!" I was waiting for the punch line, but none came. Well, there was the creepy guy next to me who was leaning in and staring at me a bit too often. From what I could see, he wasn’t a monster though – so no immediate harm. This was a messed up world, and that moment – I decided to re-innovate myself. I would be Jolene May Harris, and the only parts of my past would be sealed away in that little black box. With that in mind, I put away the note and locked the box.
After the plane ride, I did all sorts of things. I was now in California. Jolene May Harris was the new name, and I was definitely not going to go to that camp thing that ‘Mallory’ or whatever the hell her real identity was told me to. Those few years, I played around. Finding random odd jobs, educating people in mythology, sleeping around, dating, drinking, stealing s**t, whatever it was – I did it – even got into some risqué business with some ex-spy. Had to move to a different city after that whole ‘government officials following my tail’, but I got the fun out of life, despite my most important people having passed away. I did the fun stuff for Pierce. I lived my life, C'est la vie. Anyways, some time passed, and my ‘scent’ as a demigod, or whatever I was began to rub off. Location change again. I realized something fishy though. The male who I described as creepy in the previous paragraph, yeah – he appeared. Not the normal appeared, but he was everywhere. All the time, I could feel his gaze on me. I was 21, and I decided to open the box again. It had been a long time since that had happened, but I felt this other worldly sense telling me to do so, and that’s what I did. For some reason, I felt the need to visit – at least once, this so-called ‘Half-Blood Hill’, and when I boarded the plane. Mr. Creep was right behind me. It wasn’t until after the plane and taxi ride to the location when I learned that he was being a stalker for a reason. He was a satyr, assigned to protect me apparently. His name? Augustus. I’ve been at this dinky camp ever since that introduction. I just turned 22, and well – Augustus has the same vibe as Dad. He’s always so hyper about Greek gods and stuff, and the crooked little grin is similar too. Sometimes, I really miss him, and other times – I’m missing Pierce.
How's camp been so far?
Eh, camp's been alright I guess. I haven't met that many people, and the one girl I met seems to be a bit too cheerful for me. And, there hasn't been anyone in my cabin who shares my interest in astronomy. Life's really boring. I bet if Pierce was ....
Edit :: A few days ago, dearest Mother finally remembered her daughter and claimed me. Joy, I'm a daughter of Nyx. I guess that'd explain the whole astronomy love, but the view in the cabin by myself is really fantastic.
What's your Achilles' Heel?
Oh right, apparently all of us demigods have a 'fatal' flaw. Mine's probably the fact that I can't trust anybody. Hate to break it to ya, but if you come within 5 inches close to my face and we are not about to make out - Erastus won't be very kind. It's kind of embarrassing, but I refuse to ever let my guard down. People are dangerous. Nobody can be trusted in such a filthy society. Well, it's also possible that my 'fatal flaw' could be my assholery comments, but I guess that's for you to decide.
Did you leave anything out?
I have an odd obsession with fairy tales - hence the reasoning of my tattoos, but the real reason behind it is actually much more complex. If I have the time, maybe I'll explain it to ya.
I heard that you had a clone?
Tiffany Mays
Behind the Strings
ChibiKira13
|| color 1 :: ☆ d a r k r e d ☆ || color 2 :: ☆ g r a y ☆ || color 3 :: ☆ t e a l ☆ ||
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Posted: Thu Mar 01, 2012 3:45 pm
❖ ❖ P o s t i n g L a y o u t ❖ ❖
░░░░ ☆ ░░░░░░░ ☆ ░░░░ Will be put here when finished
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Posted: Thu Mar 01, 2012 4:33 pm
Jolene has been claimed by Nyx, goddess of night.
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