BIRTH CERTIFICATE = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = NAME ║ Daisy May-Anne Kuzlos.
NICKNAMES ║ You can call me Daisy. The other kids call me "Dazing", but I'm not entirely sure whether it's a compliment or an insult. So, Daisy.
AGE ║ I'm seventeen at the moment.
DATE OF BIRTH ║ December Twenty First. Winter Solstice. Easy to remember, easy to forget, if that makes any sense...
GENDER ║ I know I'm not that feminine, but I should hope it would be obvious I'm a female...
MORTAL PARENT ║ My mother, Julianne Kuzlos.
GODLY PARENT ║ Some b*****d named Hypnos.
ORIENTATION ║ Heterosexual.
xxxAS THEY GROW = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = PERSONALITY ║ I live in my head. Or, as my mother says, I live in a world above the clouds, and refuse to put down the ladder. She thinks I'm the most indecipherable being on the planet. It's just that prefer being alone most of the time, absorbed in my own thoughts, because that's where I'm most comfortable. When I can think to myself, I can work problems out at my own pace, and I'm calmer that way. Because, as much as I hate to admit it, I have a foul temper. A literal I-will-chop-off-your-head crazy temper. Which, luckily, is masked by a high tolerance for other people's stupidity, grown after years of having to deal with it. As you can probably tell from my language, I'm kind of snarky to myself, though nobody would ever know since I hardly talk. And I try to be kind to others at first glance - I'm not one of those people that thinks everybody's the same because of a few bad experiences. I won't make unfounded assumations. Despite those that are made about me. To my peers I'm described as gloomy, odd, gothic, introverted, etcetera, onto infinity. Without them every really walking up or getting a chance to know me. But I prefer to think of myself as detached. Objective, I guess. I'm a loner by nature, not just by force, and look at everything from an outsider's view. It helps me see things a lot clearer.
LIKES ║ ║ Cloudy Days.
║ "Me" time.
║ Writing in my journal.
║ Fencing.
║ Strangely enough, since most campers have a contradicting opinion, school. If only there weren't so many people in it...
║ Shady Forests.
║ Comfortable clothes and sweaters.
DISLIKES ║ ║ Wide, open spaces.
║ Beaches, places near the equator, or anywhere else it's hot, sticky, and sunny.
║ My unruly and unfathomably annoying hair.
║ Those who judge before knowing.
║ The difficulty I have in school. I want to be good, really. I just can't seem to do it right.
║ "Jocks", though I hate to use the label. Basically anyone buff and brawny that thinks muscle and displays of brute strength are intimidating.
TALENTS ║ I write as a hobby, though I'm not sure whether or not I'm good enough for this to be considered a talent. The only person besides me and my literacy teachers whose actually read my writings is my mother, and she's a mom - she's supposed to praise everything. I basically write whatever comes to my head, lyrics, poems, stories, anything. Most of the time I just make stuff up. It's fun, and it helps me express my thoughts, and sometimes, calm myself down after a bad day. Besides that, I love to fence, and I've been into it since I was little. I'm definitely confident in my fencing skill - who wouldn't be after all that practice. Though I'm not as strong as some, even with my training, I'm nible and quick, and can knock a lesser experienced opponent off their feet with ease.
WEAKNESSES ║ Well, first of all, I do NOT do well in heat. I really hate summer, and feel so sluggish around that time of year I can barely even move. I'm also not a big fan of open spaces, fields and the like. All that room makes me feel really small. I'm more the kind of girl to snuggle up in the smallest place possible with a good book, despite my dyslexia. Ah, yes, there's that too. I'm dyslexic; reeeally bad. Which sucks hard, considering I like to write and actually WANT to succeed in school. But it's what I got. I can conquer it for a bit if I concentrate hard enough, though that's a problem in itself with my ADHD.
xxxTHE STORY AS WRIT = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = BIOGRAPHY ║ Well, no story really starts at the beginning, right? There's always the prologue. My prologue - my birth. More like my conception. My mom was working the night shift at a convenience store (glamorous, right?) and she noticed a customer would come in every so often. Sure enough, she started chatting to him, seeing as there wasn't much else to do working so late at night. She was smitten - I've noticed she gets that way very easily. And, inevitably, stuff happened, and I was conceived. Unluckily for my mom. As soon as she told him, he stopped coming around - Wam, Bam, Thank you Ma'am, keep the kid. That was the last she heard of her mystery lover until after I was born. Then, every year on my birthday, she got some form of check or something. Scum bag he was wouldn't even show up, just leave the cash at the door or something. "Always in a black envelope, sealed in red wax", my mother tells me with a wistful look in her eyes. "So he must have put some care into it." She says. Whatever. I still think he's a scumbag for ditching her, whether or not he's a god.
You can probably tell we weren't the wealthiest of families. One parent household with only a yearly support check and my mother's earnings from the convenience store which had to stretch between the two of us in a crappy apartment. Not that I don't appreciate it - I love my mom, and she's one of the most hard working and consistently optimistic people I know. The crappiness is just a fact. Even she says so. But moving on.
That was partially why I was teased so much at school, the kid in second hand clothes. It only helped fuel the fire that I was "dark and gloomy", plus a loner. But screw kids, I didn't care about them. I just focused on my home life. Still do. Whatever I could do to help out, paper route, lemonade stands, writing contests, I did. Didn't have time to focus on social stuff, as if it mattered. And with me and my mom, and the collection of envelopes kept on my mother's nightstand, we were pretty happy. We got along okay.
It was only around my thirteenth birthday things started taking a turn for the worst. Attempts on my life and all that jazz. Of course, none of them appeared intentional. But I'm just paranoid. Dangerous situations kept presenting themselves to me, and they were unavoidable. Luckily, I managed to escape them all, but each day I could feel myself being watched, stalked, and I kept getting more and more on edge until I would barely even talk to my mom, the one person I had opened up to my whole life. When she noticed this, she told me a little tidbit about my dad she'd always forgotten to mention - that is, him being a god. I was less than ecstatic. Especially after traveling all the way from my home town in Illinois to New York, being attacked left and right by monsters that seemed to come in hordes now that I new I was part God. Took me almost a frigging year.
So... here I am. Camp Half-Blood. Claimed by Hypnos, whoever the
Hell Tartarus he is. Honestly, I don't know, and I don't want to know. Keep him away from me, and keep me away from him.