My name is Azrael "Diablo" Blair and I am a demigod.
I have seen a lot in my 17 years.
My Mortal Parent, Alexander Blair , raised me from birth.
Though it turns out I am descended from (Godly parent - leave this blank!)
What led to my discovery of all this? Well you see...
Guess it's time to spill my guts in telling you my life story well my life isn't for the lighthearted as there is no happy endings for someone like me never will be. I was born and left in the care of my father I don't remember much about my early years besides I was raised by a woman who I thought to be my mother while my father tried his best to involve himself with me. But as the years went on he became more and more distant often choosing work over spending time with his only son at that point in my life it hurt to think my father didn't care for me. It was even worse to realize that the woman in my life that had raised me since birth was not my mother nor did she truly care about me it was just the "perks" to being a rich man's son I guess. I was five at the time when I witnessed my father's drunk rage even for a rich business man my father had quite the temper I always chalked it up to being a war veteran but I didn't understand really what that meant. I mean I didn't know what war was just knew that anything with battle seemed to thrill me to know end as if the thought of charging into the ranks of my enemies was worth everything to me. I often played war games whether my father was home or not though when he was he often got angry at me for playing such horrible games and scold me as well as my nanny for allowing me to do so.
As much of a great soldier my father was he afraid of me becoming like he was a man driven for battle as well as a man willing to protect his comrades but my father was the shell of that man all he cared for was money. By the time I was eight I got fed up with my father ignoring me because I reminded him of better times in his life so I packed a few things mainly clothes, food, my favorite toy, and a few things of his that he cherished then ran away. No point in living in a house where no one cared for me and the only one that pretended to be seemed more occupied by flirting with my father whenever he was around. School never seemed to help this empty feeling to go away which is probably why I felt no shame in leaving everything behind beside my few cherished things as well as my father's Alexander the Great coin I knew he'd be furious about that missing but I just didn't. I didn't understand much at the age of eight but what I did understand was that there were things after me which made me curious was this why father never let me go out without someone else. Not a question I would get an answer to anytime soon but hey I was eight I asked myself many more questions like why did I have attention problems and why was reading so darn hard sometimes.
While on the run from my crazy father thing I ran into this crazy two-headed dog thing with a freaking serpent for a tail but hey why the heck don't I an eight year old fight this thing. I did battle with the thing nearly killing myself in the process of fighting I had the thing on it's last leg and I mean literally I don't know how but the thing had like one leg left before I was saved by someone not sure who. I awoke in this strange place where I would call home for the next nine years where I grew into a fighter that became one of the most ,well, capable fighters in camp. I could only assume because of this I went on a mission with a few of my other comrades to get rid of a hydra nest which I remember little of the battle leading up to it then again bloodlust causes such but what I do remember is everything going wrong and the burning pain as shrapnel ripped through my armor and Greek flame briefly met flesh. From that I only can remember flashes but praising the gods for my armor or I would be missing a lot more then a few layers of skin and a few more pints of blood though I have lost count by now. Also as a side note Romans are not always the nicest people to meet when I'm in pain I happen to be very sarcastic when I'm injured which that probably does not really help much...
And that's when I arrived at Camp Jupiter.
Since then, I have been at camp for 2 years. hours
And I have the rank of "Prisoner of War"
In the (cohort - leave this blank!) Cohort.
I usually am told I act like a warrior or soldier often he is seen as a cold distant person within the company of his peers though he has been seen smiling it is usually small outside of the battlefield. Azrael lives for the fight he has been this way all of his life even in games like chess his strategy is that of full on attacks no relenting much like a Spartan. Azrael knows how to be playful and even kind among his fellow demigods but it is only within certain moments that he will even break a smile though people have caught him smirking it is not often that he shows emotion. Azrael is a cocky but stubborn guy he will push people's buttons until they break just to figure them out he is the kind of guy to keep doing something until the person sticks to their word. He is very judgmental of people and if one doesn't pass his standards he will not willingly be around them as he finds that if one can not stick to what they say then how can he trust them with his back. To say the least Azrael doesn't trust easily his main concerns in life is fighting as much as he can for as long as he can and maybe enjoy a few of life's other wonders while he's at it. He finds enjoyment in the chase when in a fight or just pursing something like an animal the hunt isn't his main concern as when he hunts it is usually the enemy not some poor defenseless animal though monsters are not above his pay grade.
He finds enjoyment in battle not like the children of Ares but he is close as he has a current amount of bloodlust pumping through him even more so in the heat of battle. Azrael can be sarcastic at times though his sarcasm makes him seem playful to his peers because it is moments like that when he is actually expressing himself though it never lasts long he is far too serious for that. Much to his peers disappointment he is very awkward around women when it is just him and them it is something to do with his lack of a mother in his life that makes him so or maybe it was his father's womanizing ways no one is really sure why he acts that way but he does. Azrael is fearless for the most part his true fears are that of never getting the death he wants because he is the type of man to stare death in the face and merely smile back like seeing an old friend he hadn't seen for sometime. Despite his cold exterior, Azrael does really care for his comrades as with his latest mission he has come to care for those he has been stuck with as they have gained his respect and lightly to say his trust it is only when those two are gained do you see a much more light-hearted man instead of the battle-ready warrior.
I really like
- Weapons, any kind will do
- Sparring, give him a good fight and hey he may be friendly towards ya
- The chase, run from him and you really just make his day
- Thrill of battle, makes his blood sing as the thought of the onslaught and bloodshed is amazing
- His armor, makes him feel comfortable and alive as well as safe
But I hate
- Getting into more trouble than he can handle, not that it happens often
- Being stuck anywhere with just women, not that he is shy around women he is just not social with the gender
- Having his masculinity questioned, not that it happens often but when it does man watch out
- Being without his weapons, it is just as bad as being defenseless on the battlefield
- The color pink, he would rather see the blasted color burned then stare at it for long unless it is his enemies innards are spilled out before him
And Please don't bring in
- Being denied the Glorious Death
- Living a Peaceful Life
But no matter what one day I want
- To die gloriously in a battle that means something to me
- Getting the heck out of this place as well
In case I have to fight I have
- A crossbow, that hides a normal rubber-like bracelet
- A slightly curved sword, that hides as his belt
- A shield, that hides as the ring on his left hand
I'm really good at
- Close combat, whether hand to hand or sword and shield
- Being an a**, it's a talent I swear
- Endurance/High Pain tolerance, I just keep coming back for more
But I'm horrible at
- Opening up to people, too many fall in battle to allow myself wounds that won't heal
- Being civilized, I don't compromise easily so dealing with other people's rules bug me
- Controlling my bloodlust when in battle and even directly afterwards
