My name is Aida DeCristoforo and I am a demigod.
I have seen a lot in my sixteen and a half years.
My Mortal Parent, Daniella DeCristoforo , raised me from birth.
Though it turns out I am descended from Hephaestus
What led to my discovery of all this? Well you see...
My mother raised me with the help of pretty much our entire extended family. See, that's how things work in Italy. The whole family shares this monstrous house and the monstrous responsibility of raising each others children. It's a wonderful way to grow up really. Until, of course, your mother's job gets transferred to another country where you not only have to learn a new language, but are exchanging a life of intimacy and family for one of lonely solitude.
Being just five, I don't remember much about the move over to the U.S. but I remember it was cold; cold and hard. Italy was forever a picture of warmth and family where as New York seemed to be fully of strangers and a chill that I couldn't seem to shake. By the time I was enrolled in Elementary school, I was labeled a "problem child" never able to sit still, always rearranging classroom materials or making shapes out of my homework assignments. ADD, ADHD, OCD, the list went on for what seemed like forever. But the thing was, I was smart. throughout grade school I either spent my time with special ed. kids or with the "gifted" students.
My reading comprehension at the end of sixth grade was near the level of a third-grader, but my grammar likened itself to those in highschool, simple addition took forever, but I had my times tables down pat up to 21. The school system didn't know what to do. So I remained in mostly lower-level classes until my eighth grade year. Finally, at that point I was able to join others my age in more specialized classes classes, engineering-tech was my favorite. Of course, the imbalance never really went away, but I was thrilled to be with "smart" people. I knew that what made me so polar was not a defect and it felt nice for everyone else to join in as well.
My primary boost of confidence, however, came the summer following my 13th birthday. Mom always talked about how wonderful my father was, but whenever I tried to press details from her, she clammed up and simply told me that I was a lot like him. So when someone showed up at our door offering answers, I jumped at the chance to hear them. Mom was a little hesitant in sending me to this "camp" but after a private discussion with the man and then one with myself, she agreed. Camp Halfblood was everything I could ever hope for, finally everything made sense and I actually felt like I belonged. In some ways, it filled the void that Italy had left in my heart.
Everything was great until six months ago. Mom was killed in a car crash, a "freak blizzard" they called it and suddenly the only home I had left was Camp Halfblood. The transition from mortal to full-time camp life was a little odd, but it most certainly made the grieving process easier. I even started to fall for a guy at Camp and spent more time with other people rather than my projects. You can imagine my ecstasy when we were given a quest together, along with two other demigods. All we had to do was find and eradicate a Hydra den located somewhere in the Southwest. Things went smoothly until we got inside. Not only was there a full-sized hydra, but two younglings as well. Our plan went to scraps as we scrambled to get out before the bomb we had set (greek fire included) went off.
All I can think of since waking up in this place is whether any of the others made it out. I can't shake the feeling that I was the only "lucky one" (ironic because I seem to have passed out on the doorstep a camp of extremely militaristic teenagers who hate me with severe burns and one less arm than I was born with). Due to my current predicament, I think I'll skip over the usual "cry for three days straight and blame myself for everything" phase and worry about how to get back home.
And that's when I arrived at Camp Jupiter.
Since then, I have been at camp for two years days.
And I have the rank of "prisoner of war"
In the (cohort - leave this blank!) Cohort.
I usually am told I act like a stubborn scatterbrain.
Because my thinking mind operates in an "outside of the box" fashion, I am often misunderstood and judged to be socially inept. This would be quite the inaccuracy as I am extremely observant, detail oriented and project-oriented. While I may not be a social butterfly, I excel in the realm of patterns, projects and problem solving. I love to figure things out and pursue answers with an unstoppable determination -even if that means locking myself up in my room for days on end.
As such, I've become acquainted quite well over the years with the idea and reality of failure and so have become thick-skinned both to criticism and failure. Sure, I still get frustrated and may express such in a quick outburst, but then I move on and try again until my goal is met. I've been known to spend hours, if not days, on end working on a problem or project until its fruition. It probably isn't healthy, but I'm the kind of person who doesn't cope well with unanswered questions and to whom, new ideas are constantly revealing themselves.
Unfortunately, these habits often lead to a lack of social interaction. Truth be told, I don't really mind. I've never really had great social skills anyway, so why bother going out of my way to announce that to the world? Really, it was surprise to me how quickly I made friends at camp - it had never really happened before. Somehow they could see past my scatterbrain and almost awkward exterior to the real person inside. I know it sounds cheesy, but sometimes I feel like I'm trapped inside of myself, like my brain is moving too fast for the rest of me to catch up. So I've sort of given up on the idea of having lots of friends and mostly stick to my projects.
But don't worry, I wouldn't admit this to anyone so you don't have to worry about me getting all sappy on you. In fact, I rarely ever express such things, I guess in my efforts to become callus to the disappointments of my projects I also built up a stubborn and tough set of emotions. I mean it only took me a month to go through the full cycle of grieving and come to perfect terms with my mother's death - the loss of the one person in the entire world who has always been there for me. I suppose I also grew up a lot in that month as well, though that might have been because I had to re-build half of the camp amphitheater after blowing it up with one of my "projects" during my "anger" phase. Did I mention that most of my projects are explosive in nature? No? Well, they are. The hydra bomb? That was mine. That's right ladies and gentlemen, I probably killed the three people to whom I was the closest. Who wants to be friends?
I really like Puzzles, eating, finding obscure ways to do things, blowing things up
But I hate When one of my projects goes haywire, long-distance running, burns, talking about my mom.
And Please don't bring in the ocean (aka 10,000 ways to drown), going crazy.
But no matter what one day I want to get out of this hell-hole people to recognize my brilliance
In case I have to fight I have A.I. arm with crossbow & sword attachments (not yet acquired)
I'm really good at creating mechanical things & explosives, noticing patterns, pushing people away....
But I'm horrible at talking to people I don't know, extensive amounts of physical activity, feelings (especially other people's)..
My life at camp is interesting...
I meet a few people, who are my friends
Lucien Nights @CHB
Azrael Blair
and a few people who are my enemies literally everyone here .
Though I kind of like Jordan Reno - deceased
