New Life, New Beginning [open]

[sol]

“Come on Sol!” The sun glistened off her silky brown hair which tickled the young Demigod’s face as she leaned down, putting her hands on her legs and smiling at him. He looked up at her and smiled. They were the best of friends, very close. To some, they might have seemed like more than friends. Course, that was the kind of friendship everyone in their group felt. Sol did love Anna, just not in the way one would think. He loved her like a friend, like a sister. They were nothing more than friends too one another. The smile on his face widened as he took her hand and she pulled him to his feet. The fire had been put out and it was now day time. Erin and Teresa were rolling up sleeping bags as everyone else packed up their backpacks. Chris noticed the two and handed them their weapons. Anna latched the bag of arrows onto her backpack and slung her bow on her shoulder as Sol sheathed his sword and hooked it onto his belt, his shield swinging back to the spiked bracelet it often took the form of. He watched as Anna tied her hair up in a ponytail with a few loose strands outlining her face and her dull hazel eyes actually glimmering in the sunlight.

“Where are we going?” the teen asked as he caught glimpse of William talking with Jake. Slight jealousy boiled in his heart. Wasn’t William his brother, not Jake’s? Wasn’t he supposed to be the one whom William spent most of his time with while traveling? The two Demigods seemed to be more like brothers than Sol and William. To get his mind off it, the blonde looked over at Anna, who held her finger up to her mouth. Basically, their destination was a secret that she wasn’t planning on sharing. A slight smirk slid onto his face. Chris told everyone to start walking and then...the scene changed.

Sol was woken by Chris yelling at everyone. He shook William awake, the young boy groaning and swatting his brother’s hand away. “Wake up!” the snarl was out of his mouth before he could re-think how to say it. William, or Will as he was often called, snapped his eyes open and sent a cold glare at Sol, who recoiled a bit. He couldn’t remember ever seeing that look in his twin’s eyes before. He opened his mouth to say something but Anna’s voice screamed their names. Quickly grabbing his sword, Sol poked his head outside the make-shirt shelter that was made of twigs, branches, and leaves. He couldn’t even name most of the monsters that surrounded them. Fear slithered up and down his back as he glanced at his brother. Despite everything, all their arguments they had been having, he didn’t want his younger twin brother to get hurt. Clicking his shield open, the teenage Demigod ran out of the shelter, William close behind him. The fire had been stomped out. Only the glow of their celestial bronze weapons lit the dark night. Monsters roared and attacked, dust and dirt flying everywhere. Sol could make out the noise of Anna going “HA!” and firing arrows at the monsters; Chris playing his flutes and praying to the gods they won the fight. He looked around. Nothing. He could see absolutely nothing. He couldn’t even see the monsters that were only a few paces away and about to attack him. He felt something pounce on his and the next thing he knew he was falling…

Sol’s eyes flung open as he jolted awake. A dream. It had been nothing more than a dream…but not even that. It was a memory. A memory he hadn’t wanted to remember, but it filled his mind every time he closed his eyes. A groan escaped his lips as he ran his fingers through his hair and sat up, looking around. He had fallen asleep under Thalia’s Tree. He glanced up at the shimmering Golden Fleece. The teen couldn’t help but frown. Ever since he had first met Chris and the others, they had always talked about going to Camp Half-Blood. They had talked about what they would do once they were there and promised each other they would make it there together. Now, he was at the camp, but he was alone and he felt alone. He wanted to wake up every day in the cabin and see William sleeping soundly like he always did. He was a heavy sleeper, and the teenager enjoyed waking his twin up. He would always yawn in a way that made him seem younger than he was. Not to mention he would always try to punch Sol for waking him up. The young Demigod also wanted to see Anna and Erin practicing archery and even attempting to teach him; Teresa trying to steal something from another cabin as a prank and Scoot helping her; Chris earning his horns; Jake, Tammy, and Danny sparing with each other and arguing over whether a girl or boy is better at swordsmanship; Ally and Amber flirting with any cute guy they see; Stephiny quietly reading a book; and Duke and Dren at the property border waiting to say good morning to their satyr and Demigod friends. He wanted to see those sights so bad he would have traded his life for them, but the gods didn’t seem that kind. His brother and friends were dead, he could just feel it. It was tempting to go to Hades and try to see them, but Sol knew he wouldn’t last a single second outside the camp. He was there to train, and train was what he planned on doing. He would train hard and then someday, hopefully, set off to find his missing palls.[/center][/size]

Word count: 968
character: Sol Jefferson
feeling right now: omg my first post xD

[Ryan Simons]

Demigod dreams stink, a fifteen year old boy thought bitterly as he stalked away from Camp and up towards the hill. Hopefully no one would be there, but knowing how large this Hades was, there was bound to be. He rolled his eyes. He seriously couldn't get one moment, in the day time, to himself? The boy growled and kicked the grass, glaring at his objective. Oh well, he had made a commitment to going up that hill. He'd stick to it, people up there or not. If they were there, he'd either ignore them or start a fight. His path usually led to a fight anyway, with a lot of older people. Now that he thought about it, there weren't many kids that were his age or younger around his stupid Hades hole. Sure, the coward kid who had ducked under the table could be defiantly pinned as young, but other than that, he didn't know. Besides, age didn't matter; neither did parentage. He hated that they were all split up in Cabin and table by a friggin parent that would never give a dang drachma about them. Well, at least his parent didn't care. To be frank, neither did Ryan. He didn't' care, never would, and now, in his head, he was a son of No One. He contributed his weapon knowledge to his aunt, the only good thing that had ever come out of her; and contributed his attitude to his surroundings. That was basically Ryan in a nutshell: he was the product of his environment. That much was fairly predictable.

For the moment, Ryan was getting away from the arena. He had spent most of his morning there. He was almost always there, but had left since it had gotten way to crowded for his liking. His definition of crowded? Two other people. Pretty sad? Yeah, to other people; not to him. He hated being around any other demigods in this Hades; if he was ever around them and they started something, it was almost always his tendency to start a fight. For a few moments, he debated about going into the forest, but decided not to. He passed the armory on the way to the hill and a few people were in there as well. See? There was always someone somewhere around this Camp. It seemed like the only time he could be alone was early in the morning or in the dead of night. As he continued walking, he kept remembering the dream he had early this morning and for the past few nights. That was odd, usually his dreams changed. When he was little he had dreamed of a monster coming after him, and that was before he knew he was a demifreak. Usually he dreamed something different ever night. Some dreams included: getting shoved in an oven, getting killed by Kath, getting stabbed in the back, drowning in a lake, all really pleasant things. One other dream he couldn't stand? Well, he couldn't really stand anything, but he had this dream that had actually been his reality. Those dreams were always worse than the others.

The one he kept having was coming close to making him snap. Ever since he had continued having it, he hadn't gotten much sleep, on top of the fact he had never stayed in his Cabin for much sleep in the first place. The dream that he continued to have was half in reality, half not. Reality part? The gun shot. Not realistic? Kath setting the place on fire and Edmund falling off a tree. To an extent, it was unrealistic that Ryan was running and the fire was giving him a wide berth. What sort of fire moved away from a person? Okay, so more unrealistic than realistic, but the very realistic part was the one that was haunting him. He was sure that the dream was meant to tell him something. That thought was in accordance to the demigod dreams rule.

That rule? No demigods dreams were normal. Ever. They either were hinting the dreamer towards their doom, or reminding them of their past and things that freaked them out to the break down point. Or that was what his dreams were about, anyway. More the freaking out and past than the doom. Another thing he learned while here? Astounding as it may sound, but he had actually learned one or two things around this heck hole. What he learned was never pleasant though; nothing in demigod world was. Ryan learned that dreams of the demigods weren't normal and that demigods didn't live long. What pleasant aspects! Sense the sarcasm, a whole lot of it. He guessed that most demigods died because of monsters and combat. It was sort of odd now that Ryan thought about it. Even though he seemed like he was always ignorant and all, he still had ears. He could listen to people. If he cared or not was a completely different matter. He didn't care about personal stuff, not in the slightest, but the information people gave helped Ryan understand the demigod world a bit better. All it did was make him hate it more. True, when he came here, he actually could stand to listen to Fish Face and Owl Brian lecture him about the greek world. That information he retained, everything else everyone said to him went out the window after a week. What he heard was that some people had gotten attacked by monsters here. Odd thing was, Ryan hadn't been. Not that he could remember, anyway.

As he reached the hill, he saw a figure on it. The teenager gritted his teeth. Gods, here it was again! So many people, at least one person was somewhere. Whatever. A stubborn surge shot up within the boy and he continued up the hill. He glared at the tree and the fleece. Of all things, a stupid pine cone tree and a woolen flee bag kept them safe. He rolled his grey eyes. Of all the things that didn't make sense in this stupid Camp!

OOC: I hope that's okay. o.O Sry about that length... I always try to post around the same number of the person I'm posting too plus I have a lot of pent up Ryan muse. Nice beginning post, btw! ^^
Character Name: Ryan Simons
Mood: Angry, Stubborn
To: Sol Jefferson, Open
IC Word Count: 1,032
Made By: Ellie Brigid at Olympian Prophecy

Legend:
"Ryan Speaking"
Ryan Thinking
Ryan's Story Thinking

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[sol]

What am I ever doing here? Sol thought as he lay down on the grass, putting his hands behind his head and staring up at the sky. He thought about the question. What was he doing here? Had he truly come here thinking his friends were gonna be here? The most confusing part was how he had gotten here. He had actually fought off monsters. He was no hero; he couldn’t fight to save his life! Those monsters should have devoured him, yet they didn’t. Had his father actually been looking out for him? Tsk, yeah right. Why would the gods ever give a damn about their “normal” demigod children? In Sol’s mind, the “normal” kids were the ones that didn’t go off and save the world, that didn’t go and fight against a Titan. The ones that weren’t children of the Big Three. The ones that had to fight their way to camp, that had to make several sacrifices which included their lives and the ones they loved. The ones that did heroics and never got cheered for by the gods. Those were the “normal” demigods, the true heroes. True heroes remained in the shadows, in his opinion. Well his opinion and his friends’ opinions too. They shared a lot of opinions that had mostly started out as Anna’s and then had rubbed off on them. They believed that true heroes didn’t step out into the light and reveal themselves. They didn’t need people cheering their names, cause the hope they gave them and the happiness they gave them were enough. Everyone paid attention to a demigod when they got a quest or when they were chosen to go on a quest with someone, but what about the ones that weren’t chosen by the oh-so-great-Oracle? Were they just left in the dark? Were they supposed to cheer the “heroes” as they come back to camp? That didn’t make sense in his mind. The system at the camp was flawed to him. Jeez, one would have thought that Percy could have asked for more than just a few more cabins.

Sol closed his eyes, even though he knew scenes would play in his head. He saw his father handing him his sword and shield, and for once he noticed the jealous look on his brother’s face. William had actually been…jealous of him? But why? The scene changed before he could think more of it. Flames surrounded him and suddenly he was standing up, in his old home in Roseville. He looked around, almost scared as the flames danced around him. He saw himself, ten years old, screaming for his mother. William was by his side, calling out to her too. Where was she? He saw her, but the ten-year-old him and William didn’t. He opened his mouth to say “There she is! Save her!” but no noise came out. Chris broke down the door and ran in with Jake by his side. Jake grabbed Sol’s wrist and tugged him out as Chris picked William out and carried him out too. The house was burning down. Jake and the others quickly fought off the Hellhounds, but the twin boys stood there in a daze. William was screaming their mother’s name and even attempted to run back inside, but Chris grabbed him and stopped him. Sol just stood there, his eyes glazed over and the flames reflected off them. William crumpled to the floor screaming at his brother “Brother do something! I can feel her pain!! She’s burning! Please! Can’t you smell it?! Brother!!” But Sol just stood there, staring at the flames as if entranced by them. The house fell down in a ball of flames. “Mother!!” Sol heard William screech. He saw his brother get out of Chris’s grasp and dash toward the burning wood. The young demigod snapped out of his daze and grabbed Will, wrapping his arms around his brother’s waist and holding him put. Chris and Jake started to put the fire out and soon everyone joined in. Soon Anna, Teresa, and Scoot joined in. Eventually the fire disappeared, leaving behind nothing but charred objects that had once been their home. Somewhere inside there, was there mother. Sol slowly released his brother, who dropped to his knees on the sidewalk crying. He ran over to the once home of theirs and started digging through it. Everything was still hot, and whenever he touched something it burned his hands, but he ignored the pain. His mind started to register what had happened. Dear gods, his mom was dead! She had been burned alive! He could have saved her! Maybe she still was alive. Mom? Mom? Mom where are you?! Those thoughts echoed through his mind as he searched, trying to find something that belonged to his mother. He found nothing. Right when he was about to give up, his hands touched something…cold. Cold, smooth, metal-like. He pulled them out. It was his shield and sword. The eye of the owl on the shield stared back at him. It seemed to pierce his soul. He grabbed it and hooked it to his wrist, swinging it closed. He then grabbed the hilt of his sword and stood up, walking over to his new found friends and his brother, his back toward the house.

Sol’s eyes opened. Why had he closed them in the first place? Maybe he had one of those stupid moments Anna used to say he had a lot. He stood up and twisted the middle spike on his bracelet. His shield sprung open, swinging to full size. He slid it off his wrist and looked at the front of it, the owl eye staring back at him. Staring at it sent chills through his body. The fifteen-year-old quickly put it back on his wrist and unsheathed his sword. Unlike his shield, his sword didn’t change into anything. It was a sword one-hundred percent of the time, twenty-four seven. Engraved on the hilt was Alala. After seeing that name he had had Chris tell him about this Alala. She had been the spirit of the war cry, and an attendant to Ares. He couldn’t remember if she still existed or not, or if she had perished long ago.

Snapping back to reality as he heard someone walking up the hill, Sol sheathed his sword and sat down on the ground, laying it down next to him and clicking his shield closed. As far as he could remember, this would be his first time meeting a fellow demigod since he first arrived. That was, if the person was a demigod. The teen debated on which personality to use. Hell no would he use his own. No one would like his own original personality. The young demigod decided to see what the person was like before choosing a personality.

Word count: 1,139
Character: Sol Jefferson
By: Tiger Geme
To: Ryan Simons, open
OOC comment: heh wow another long one ^^”” I think my posts are long cause of his flashbacks only ^^”””””

[Ryan Simons]

Ryan kicked the grass while he continued up the hill. Why the hades was he still flipping here? It was a darn hades hole and that was it! It was an overpopulated Hades hole and that was all it was ever going to be. He guessed he just stayed here for the training, if he could even hand the Camp that. Ryan knew he still had a lot of time for improvement; any fighting he could do, he credited to his aunt. That was probably the only good thing that he could give her credit for. Teaching him how to fight. He could fight well because of her, not because he was a son of the god of War. Ares meant nothing to him. None of the gods did. They were just conceited crazy immortals who never gave a dang about all their kids that they had. What he hated about the Camp is that they gave the demigods association with the parent to much. Cabins and tables were according to the parents. Even worse, the fire in the Pavilion, where the demigods had to give food to the gods.

No, he was not doing that. Ever. He was not going to give food to the friggin gods who didn't give a care. He wasn't going to stay around long in his Cabin to associated himself with his so called 'siblings'. And, he was not going to sit according to a darn stupid table! Ryan would sit down for food where ever and whenever he darn well wanted. He was no body's kid and never would be; that in mind, he'd never associate himself by the useless tables or cabins. Besides, no one would ever want him as a son, anyway. Kath didn't even want him. She dumped him at Camp at the first chance she could and he never saw her again. He didn't care; he was better off without that crazy woman anyway. At camp, he just continued to do what he had always done. What he had grown up with, training and fighting. Ryan came to Camp and after observing for just a day, he realized that he was, to an extent, a bit better off than some of the other kids around here. Some of them looked like they had never picked up a weapon of any sort in their entire life. All he knew with fighting, he credited it to that he had a good teacher and that was it.

Good teacher. Then again, it depended on the person's view of a good teacher. Kath made him learn. Perhaps not by the 'good teacher' standards others would see. For him, it was adapt or die; he was just a product of his environment. Just like it was for any demigod. Living with Kath was like living in an army/torture camp. Sure, out of one Hades and into another. Her teaching methods included: Catch the Dagger (which was how he got all the scars on his hands), learning on the spar moment (which was how he got all of his other scars everywhere else) and Jump the Pikes. They were basically training games. Games; sure, games that had high risk of getting killed. At least it was effective. After months and months of getting his hand cut open, Ryan finally managed to learn how to catch a dagger by the hilt and without a staff to help him.

He knew that even with all of his intensive training, that he still was far from the best fighter. That had been one of Kath's rules. There was always someone out there who was better, and there was always room for improvement. Ryan knew that way to well. He had been here three darn long years, Kath had never come back for him, so he had become an all rounder. He had gotten into a lot of fights, mostly provoked by himself, and lost a lot of them. He didn't mind at all; a fight was just another way to train, and sometimes it worked. He would learn what he had to work on and all he could do was keep practicing. He knew he was far off from the best fighter and he knew that he was far away from a hero. Ryan wasn't a hero. He was an antisocial, negative, outcast, loner, clueless, crazy demigod. He had been pinned as many of those things and more, he didn't care at all. Ryan had learned to take what people threw at him, be it words or objects. Ryan learned not to stand down, he learned not to be intimidated, how to just deflect punishments and criticism; make them just bounce off him like a rubber ball. Yes, he learned a lot of things at Kath's. Some people would say it was all the wrong things, but he didn't think so. What he had learned, had made him who he was, and, for the most part, he was fine with it.

For the most part. Aside from his thing with killing Edmund he was fine with who he was. He had accepted it, but it still haunted him. Maybe he just convinced himself that he had accepted it and he really hadn't. He didn't know. All he knew, was that it drove him crazy most of the time. He killed his best friend and lost another one in less than twelve hours. Two months later and he had most of his present day scars. He had been so dazed and distracted those two months after that only half of him was ever paying attention to Kath shooting things at him. The things she was shooting were things that he didn't really want to get hit with, but he did. The lesson was trying to learn how to catch them with bare hands, he caught them alright, but in his skin. Not the exact way Kath wanted him to catch them. He was a compete fail for those two months, then finally managed to just pull himself together. He exhaled, remembering that night; it was just a horrible nightmare. Their voices arguing, the sound the gun made, the birds, the darkness, the last conversation... and then the next day. Ryan went into the forest, buried Edmund and went to find Alex. He walked to the house, he had been that desperate. Ryan knew where the house was, but just had never been there nor walked there. The past eight year old went up to the door an opened it. It was completely empty. That was when it hit him; both of his friends were gone and he doubted that they'd ever come back.

All of the sudden he felt dizzy and sick. Maybe he shouldn't of remembered that much. He heard a sheathing sword and his grey eyes narrowed, springing back to his usual self. The fifteen year old put his hand on his dagger on his belt, just in case. Ryan came up to the hill and gave the pine tree a disgusted look, as well as the boy underneath it. He just ignored the boy sitting under the tree and just walked a bit farther, just looking, from a distance, at the property line and trying not to think. As always, he was tense and on guard, fully aware that there was a potential enemy behind him. His hand was still resting on his dagger hilt.

OOC: Lol, no problem; flash backs are cool ^^. Made mine a bit long too.
Character Name: Ryan Simons
Mood: Angry, Slightly Sad, Guilty, Stubborn
To: Sol Jefferson, Open
IC Word Count: 1,258
Made By: Ellie Brigid at Olympian Prophecy

Legend:
"Ryan Speaking"
Ryan Thinking
Ryan's Story Thinking

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