Post by pary on Jul 1, 2010 11:54:17 GMT -5
ready to fight, a knife held close by your side
* * * *
PARIS MICHAEL SWEET
broken mirror, a million shades of light
* * * *
Name:: Paris Michael Sweet
Nickname:: they just call him Paris or Pary
Age:: Seventeen
Gender:: Male
we can run to the end of the world
* * * *
Species:: Demi-God
Olympian Parent:: Aphrodite
Years at Camp:: First year
Claimed:: They’ve never met personally
the songs of the season are her only crown
* * * *
Celebrity Claim: Mitch Hewer
Looks:: As the son of the goddess of love and beauty it goes without saying that Paris possesses striking looks. He stands at about 5’6” with fair blonde hair, light olive skin, and a pouty expression that could melt the heart of almost any man or woman. He is not terribly conceted about his looks though he spends alot of time making sure they're upheld. Aphrodite's sons are alleged to be irresistable... Guess he hasn't grown into that one yet.
Personality:: Well, Pary is a flirt and a half that’s for sure. He can’t help that about himself though. He has a tendency to be a bit airheaded from time to time but this only betrays how wise and kind he truly is. Pary’s the kind of person who will take anyone’s pain into consideration and try to help. He’s viewed as nosy sometimes by how much he gets into people’s business but it’s out of his general desire to make sure the people in his life are happy. It’s something he’s always been compelled to do.
Pary is a very wise young man. Granted he acts, most of the time, like an airheaded marshmallow peep, he is the farthest thing from stupid. He tends to see the situation for what it is and often finds ways to turn it for the better. He, unfortunately, can never keep a level head. His emotions are the dominant force in his body at most times and they clouds his thinking. It’s one of his bigger flaws. He doesn’t get too down about stuff like that though, he’s an optimist and he is who he is.
Family:: Aphrodite; Marcus Sweet
History::
Paris was born out of the union between Marcus Sweet, a human doctor, and Aphrodite, the goddess of love. Aphrodite’s stay on earth was brief, to say the least. Two weeks of rapture with Marcus in Paris, France, where he was attending conferences, were all it took to produce a son. See, when the goddess had had her fun she departed, into the water of the Seine and was gone in a rush of foam. A few months following that, she returned to Marcus in his home of Apple Valley, California where she bore a son. In light of the laws she was bound by, Aphrodite disappeared after that, leaving her son to be raised by Marcus who named the child after the city of his conception, the city of love. Upon the realization that his mother was Aphrodite, Paris began going by Pary more frequently to avoid the irony of his name.
Anyway, Pary grew up normally, pretty much, in Apple Valley. He had a lot of friends from an early age, people were always drawn to him really, and he had little want for much because he was the most persuasive child for whatever reason. Life, however, was not without its struggles. Not knowing your own mother is a rough one, your father always working and nearly crying every time he actually does see you? How is that an enriching homelife? Apparently a love goddess is hard to get over and Pary constantly reminded his father of Aphrodite. Because of his father’s natural aversion to Paris’ company, the two are not very close. Pary, because of this, drowned his life in his fun and his friends.
What is his fun though? Anything. As soon as the ninth grade rolled around and Pary changed from adorable to mouthwatering he was off like a rocket. In this time, Pary was untamable. He was out almost every night, he was sleeping at friend’s houses more than he was ever at home, and he and his father hardly spoke. This rebelliousness went on ‘til the winter of his junior year, because around December of that year of high school, Pary learned who his mother was. Needless to say that was a shocker. He’s been residing at the camp ever since. Not out of necessity, of course, but out of desire. He and his father had no real relationships and his friends were easy enough to remain in touch with. He had no need to remain in California and so he left. He’s been here for a few months, it’s goin’ pretty well…
broken sword and shield and tears that never fall
* * * *
Name/Nickname:: Maty
Roleplaying Experience:: like 2 years?
Sample RP::
FROM THIS ONE SUPERNATURAL-ISH SITE I’M ON :]
Deliloh sauntered aimlessly through a derelict portion of the cemetery, sighing slowly as his eyes wandered upwards to looking at the waxing moon, a night or two away from being full. Not that Deliloh ever kept track of the lunar cycles, you could tell by looking that it would be full tomorrow or the next night and, more so, Del could feel it in his bones. He knew when the animal stirred and the more restless it became the closer to the full moon it was and he'd been itching about in his own skin for days now. Not that he couldn't wolf out at any time, obviously, but the full moon is when werewolves felt truly alive. No time was sweeter and no hunt more fulfilling. Deliloh found himself looking forward to it.
Drawing his attention from the lunar goddess that illuminated the mountainous night sky, Deliloh drew his eyes ahead of him once more and pressed onward in his waltz through the graveyard. Something about graveyard's soothed him, it was quiet enough to think but at the same time he knew he had the ever-present company of long since lost families, friends, and strangers of this town. That, for some odd reason, was comforting to the juvenile lycanthrope. After all, what had he to fear from the dead? His steps halted and the blonde's hand dipped down into the rear pocket of his tattered, whitewash jeans and removed a pack of cigarettes. It was a soft pack, annoyingly, the guy at the store hadn't asked if he'd prefer a hardtop and the young monster just went along with it, wanting his nicotine fix more than anything at the time.
The blonde lifted the cancerous stick to his lips and pressed it between them, sparking it to life with a novelty, yellow, Gemini lighter he'd found at a gas station in Vancouver a few weeks ago. Deliloh drew in the smoke and exhaled the poisonous cloud, sending a small part of his various stresses and worries with it. He continued to move after this, his gold converse stamping down the rain-wet grass. The whole area had been swamped with summer showers today, it made the scents and smells to be found outdoors much stronger and every few seconds a new one tickled Deliloh's nose. He'd learned as a pup though to ignore those scents that aren't your pray or someone or something that you're looking for. After all, he's not a house dog, what need had he to aimlessly sniff out each intriguing whiff he received? Just thinking about how Dahlia, his dane, did the things he'd been raised not to made him laugh. "Thin line between animal and human." He said aloud to himself, vocalizing the conclusion of his thoughts in his, what some might see as hokey, southern accent as he found a crypt to crawl on top of.
Deliloh bound on top of the grave with no difficulty, sitting down and hanging his feet of the edge of the mausoleum roof as soon as he had his footing. He took another drag and exhaled, laying back onto the roof and staring up at the sky and the moon once again. Drag, exhale... Deliloh was really calm here, he let his eyes shut for a moment but remained alert. It was close to dawn so hunters were scarce but not uncommon at this hour and vampires would still be wandering about. A cemetery is as safe a place as any in this town, hunters and vamps shy away from them out of a distaste for cliche. Del still felt it prudent to be ever vigilant when he was out alone. Drag, exhale... Deliloh's calm was disrupted by an unfamiliar smell, that of another person. The blonde sat up. "Anyone out there?" He called aloud. On top of vamps or hunters, Deliloh didn't exactly want the cemetery grounds keeper to find him out here either
