DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN STUFF THAT DOESN'T BELONG TO ME LMAO. ALSO NEW SYOC STUFF DOWN BELOW! ALL THE INFO IS DOWNSTAIRS :)
0.4
Unfortunately for James Silas Moretti, anyone vaguely attractive within the prison walls is either a sibling of his or mentally unstable. A guy his age with his looks and his charm confined to this disgusting asylum is just pure torture.
He doesn't even remember the last time he touches a girl or a guy or felt someone's hot lips sliding against his. As a self-proclaimed big flirt and expert at getting any man or girl to spread their legs like a white girl on prom night, James feels as if his talents at seducing is slowly wasting away. There was Carmen, of course, Carmen who's always willing to escape with him into the toilet stall. Carmen is just like him; a boy with pretty smiles that were beautiful but sharp as a knife, a charmer and a danger, heartbreakers, and Carmen understands where James is coming from- one of the very few people who understand that James doesn't massively buy the whole love is forever bullshit. There is Carmen, who is always down to touch, stroke and fuck until their breaths run out. But even now, he could feel Carmen is starting to get bored of him. Players and fuckboys like the both of them usually got bored of people easily so the feeling is mutual.
Nonetheless, James is bored and hot and bothered. He doesn't understand why this is such a problem- he's bisexual so he isn't picky with what gender he sticks it into but then again, the inmates in the prison are the type of people who might accidentally whip out a knife and stab him if he isn't careful.
That changes, of course, during the arrival of the new prisoners. James happens to be carrying a heavy lodge when Nico Di Angelo arrives with a flank of guards and a line of chained demigods being dragged into motion.
When James isn't staring at the four walls of his 6x9 cell, they are forced into working manual labour for Hades's kingdom. It works almost like a forced labour concentration camp; they are pushed by guards out of their cells after breakfast where they spent days digging trenches or building fancy new places for the heroes in the Fields of Elysium. If you're lucky, you were sent off to work as waiters at the restaurants and cafes in Elysium.
If you fail to work at the pace they wanted you to work, the guards are free and allowed to give you forty lashes. That's not the worst part about the whipping. The leather is dipped into the River Styx so the pain stings and lingers beyond physical contact hours after it's over. There were stories and tales of people being worked to exhaustion, similar to how there were numerous cases of Nazis and Japanese soldiers working their prisoners of war to the death. James remembered how a small demigod, no less than six, a son of Apollo who had been recruited by Gaea forces when he was a mere toddler, had literally collapsed onto the floor and James had barely enough time to look away when the guards bashed his head in for the lack of tardiness.
"Everybody, attention!" Nico commands. The prisoners glance up at the recent arrival of Nico Di Angelo. James drops the wooden log he was heaving onto his shoulders and pause to listen. "These are your new prisoners."
Normally, James couldn't give a shit what the Son of Hades is saying but the prospect of new prisoners always interest him. They don't get many additions to the prison often. The most they've always gotten was when the Prison first open due to the fact that it was right after the second Giant War and Gaea was just defeated. They'll get one or two maybe once every four months but from the line behind Nico and the guards flanking around the prisoners, there is quite a reasonable amount- almost ten new prisoners. James frown. That's strange. Gaea has been defeated two years ago and only now these rebels were showing up? Presuming, these are rebels.
He examines their faces- dejected, broken, angry, rebellious, incited; similar expressions of someone being caught for war crimes until a face catches his attention. She's the only girl in the collection of prisoners caught and fuck, she's hot. James has no preference for girl or boy but it's been so long since he actually fucked one, he's starting to feel as if his sexual spectrum leaning towards boys. It's rare to find a hot girl here that isn't an Aphrodite spawn and even though James usually fucks anyone that moves, he draws the line at incest and bestiality.
The girl is skinny and slim so her prison clothes hang loosely over her emaciated frame like a high fashion model. She's beautiful to look at but there is a cruel, cold light in her eyes. He can relate. She's mocha-toned with a long spill of dark hair and her lips are faintly pink with a shadow of stained lipstick.
"You lot will be starting here for your first day," Nico bark harshly at the new prisoners, "Guard, divide them into separate compounds."
James resumes back to his work, lifting the log back on his shoulders but his eyes remain on the newcomers as they disperse amongst the field of newly plotted underground land.
"Oi!" The guard flicks him on the wrist with a quick slash of the whip; James hisses as the Styx-dipped whip burned into his flesh. "Get back to work!"
James snaps back into concentration and proceeds to lift the log towards a skeletal structure of an apartment complex, where a flurry of prisoners was busy nailing woods together and constructing the house for new heroes of Elysium. Steel rods, panels of wood and stacked bricks are rising up from Elysium's manicured lawns like a metal monster about to swallow someone up. Hideous, grinding screeches of drills and power drills, as of some monstrous machine running without oil, echoed through the din of the fields. Measuring tapes and rulers, along with blueprints and maps are scattered across the field in messy formation as he avoids stepping on them while carrying the heavy log on his shoulders.
In contrast to the ugly wasteland of vistas of apartment complexes being built across the land, behind them is the beautiful Metropolitan city that occupies the rest of the Fields of Elysium. The city resembles a utopian ideal of New York city, where the buildings seemed to be a vertical sail, scintillating and very light, a luxurious backdrop of the Underworld, suspended in the dark sky to dazzle, distract and hypnotise. But he's not allowed to enjoy any of that.
Sweat drips down his forehead, not from the heat but from the strain on his muscles. The heat he feels is superficial anyway, generated from the warmth of Tartarus not too far away from them. After about a year of being a prisoner at Katadiki, James couldn't even remember what real sunshine feels like and how the world above looks like. Days of blue skies and yellow sunshine peeking above fluffy white clouds are a mere, hazy memory, like an ancient faded polaroid that was taken with shaky hands.
"Faster, you piece of filth," a guard snarls, shoving the girl he previously eyed forward. She stumbles and catches herself. She grit her teeth and her eyes flash but she keeps her cool and stays quiet.
"You!" The guard is jabbing his finger at James. James raises his head at the voice and meets the guard's gaze- two empty socket holes of a skull. "Tell her what to do."
He nods briskly as the guard resume back to his post. He turns to the girl. "So you can help me grab some of the wood over there-" he points over to the carriage of building materials; a heap of freshly chopped wood, along with buckets of nails and types of equipment. The only thing missing are safety hats and appropriate clothes meant for construction. Hades has clearly neglected this part of their punishment, just purely for the full effect of the term 'punishment', "-and bring it over here so the others can put it together. Follow me."
The girl is silent as she ambles slowly behind him. He is annoyed at the lack of speed in her pace and the sluggish way she seems to move and finds himself impatiently tapping his foot, waiting for her to arrive at where he is.
"What's all this for?" she gestures towards the construction site.
"We're building new houses for Elysium," James smile bitterly, and then add for the effect: "Someone has to do the legwork, right?"
"That's fair," the girl snorts and he wonders who her godly parent is. Her appearance doesn't seem indicative of any parental god or goddess. As a child of Aphrodite, he is blessed with the inherent ability to judge a person's background through their physical appearance. Say what you want about how first impressions doesn't necessitate a good judgement of character but he could easily make out a kid of Athena with their eyes- grey colour, calculative, stormy, wise, intimidating. He could judge a child of Ares with the way they carry themselves- brutish, masculine and warlike, no-nonsense expression, frown lines and scowls and children of Demeter with their fair skin and natural, plain but pretty features- ski-slope noses, small lips, delicate lashes and their likes natural fabrics and eastern-inspired designs. But Lyra is sharp and all angles; almost Russian but her dark, mocha-toned skin indicated otherwise…so who is her parent?
"Come, I'll help you lift this one," he says, looking at the log that's nuzzled in between the carriage's legs. It's the size of a tree trunk.
"Thanks," she replies, bending down to grab the right side as he makes his way to the left. Together, they heave the trunk and head down back towards the construction site.
After they dispose the log down close to the heap of wood collecting near the skeletal figure of a house being built, James wipes the sweaty sheen off his forehead and glanced at the girl, who is equally breathless, panting and hunching over. James imagines her looking like that after he's done with her- her oxygen robbed off her body, the sweat dripping off he as he pins her to a door, mannequin satisfaction written over her face. It's been way too long since he fucked a girl. Too long. "I've never got your name by the way."
She smiles, wicked like the devil. "It's Lyra."
He was sleeping on his single bed, his body cocooned in a dirty white spread on a hard mattress until he hears sirens screaming and ripping him out of the swells of unconsciousness. He sits upright, blinking rapidly once, twice, three times before his feet touch the ground. He puts his hands onto his ears as they shrivel up into his body at the sheer sound the speakers are making- like a tortured wails from a wounded animal, or a girl when someone is forcing salt on a bullet wound. It's a noise that set one's teeth on edge and bristles the hair at the back of one's neck.
His eyes flicker towards the door and almost gape at what he sees: pure unadulterated chaos; prisoners running amuck, shrieking, destroying whatever they can as the guards are standing by the door side, remaining their posts with a duped expression on their faces. What the actual fuck?
He runs out of his cell and assimilates with the chaos- his fellow cellmates tearing things apart, breaking cell doors and bars with their bare hands like a bunch of savage gorillas, uncontrollable exclamations of rage accompanying their terror, people are leaping up and down in their places and shouting at the tops of their voices in an effort to drown the maddening sirens of alarm breakout that blare from the speakers overhead while some are more focused on getting the hell out, creating a bottleneck at the entrance as people are clambering on top of each other.
This time he spits it out loud: "What the actual-"
He stops himself. His eyes widen, large as saucers. The wall right next to his cell is spray-painted bold red, messily scrawled in hurried writing:
It's Time For A Reckoning.
-The Celestials.
His heart turns cold. What is happening? What is actually happening?
But before he can process any further, a dart pierce him in the neck and he crumbles into darkness.
"There's an emergency meeting."
Juliana Greer's strong features reminiscent of Ares descent twists itself into a frown. Juliana, a bold-looking girl of eighteen with green eyes, thick hair and swift, athletic movements can be quite intimidating when she wants to be but the shorter girl barely quivers when Juliana narrows her eyes. She examines the messenger's expression, which happens to be a girl in her Ancient Greek class- Abigale Saunders, a daughter of Khione. "Are you sure?"
Abigale nods curtly. As a daughter of Khione, Abigale is as warm as Siberia during December but Juliana doesn't take the cold indifference of Abigale's nature to heart. She's like that with everyone. "Dead serious. Chiron wants everybody at the amphitheatre now."
Juliana swears softly under her breath and runs a hand through her curled brown hair. "Alright, tell him I'll have everybody out soon."
"Sure," Abigail answer and dash away, leaving Juliana on her own. Juliana looks back at the group of seven-year-old and eight-year-old kids she's teaching how to fight. She has paired them off with each other and gave them plastic swords to practice their movements with and she was hoping to be able to teach them how to disarm each other- the first time they ever did a proper move out of the sword fighting textbook but she'll have to do that next.
"Hey kids," she calls out through the commotion of excited toddler chatter with a clap of her hands to indicate it's time to shut up and listen, "We have an emergency meeting at the amphitheatre right now so can you please put your swords in the basket and line up according to your cabins."
Of course, when it comes to controlling little kids or demons- whatever term is applicable, no instruction ever gets carried without blood being shed. It's even worse when it comes to little kids, who happen to be demigods with no control over their abilities and diagnosed with ADHD.
She sighs as they start to scream and squabble amongst themselves, throwing and chucking their plastic swords at each other. Children, Juliana wants to tear her hair out, this is why I will never ever fucking reproduce. Why did she volunteer herself for this again? Oh yeah, to prove to Clarisse I have leadership skills. Clarisse, the current head counsellor, was on the verge of finishing her degree in New Rome, which meant she'll be off to finding a full-time job soon. Besides, Clarisse was also engaged now so she's too old and mature to deal with any of the ongoing affairs of their cabin in camp.
In Juliana's mind, this equates to the power vacuum Clarisse's absence will leave. She can just imagine the havoc that will be wreaked across the Ares siblings, fighting and maiming over who gets to be the new camp counsellor. Due to the low number of quests after the defeat of Gaea, Juliana doubts she'll be able to go on a quest to prove she's worthy of the position. Which means she can show her worth through other methods, like teaching some of the toddler classes and volunteering on exchange expeditions with Camp Jupiter and making connections with her distant Roman relatives. Hopefully, Clarisse will notice her efforts and grant her that position she rightfully deserves.
"Everybody, shut up!" she yells at the children, who began to talk to her until she mentions the special word: "If you do, I'll give you chocolate!"
And just like that, everybody fell silent. Juliana exhales loudly and murmurs: "Thank fucking god!"
The kid must have had a supersonic hearing because a seven-year-old child of Hermes had caught her and gasp: "Juliana just swore!"
They start screaming at her again.
Kill me now.
Funnily, once Juliana broke out the chocolate and bribe them with extra lollipops, the kids become sweet little angels and stay beautifully silent as they march out of the sword fighting arena towards the amphitheatre and dissolve into their respective cabins. Tired with a migraine threatening to explode her head, Juliana return to where the Ares cabin is congregating. Like always, the Ares siblings are fighting amongst themselves.
Again.
Her day never ends, does it? Think about it, Jules. When you become the counsellor, you'll have to deal with this every day.
Automatically, she slips into mother hen mode and rushes in to figure out the situation. It turns out someone has stolen someone's spear as a joke and now they're threatening to murder that person's entire family and their cat, blah, blah, blah, the usual. Do the fights between the Ares kids ever deter from its usual route? She steps in the middle of her two brothers, force both of them to apologise to each other, then set them apart and let them cool off until they forget the situation and find someone else to hate.
"So how are you?" Samantha Tamaguchi, her fellow Japanese Canadian sister, quips sarcastically when Juliana finally gets the chance to relax and occupy a seat beside her.
"Shut up," grumbles Juliana. "I don't understand why everybody in this fucking cabin always wants to kill each other."
Samantha shrug. "I don't know. Maybe it's because we're offsprings of the God of War?"
"Still, you think they have some strategic restraint," Juliana snorts, though her disdain is well-placed, she does actually care for her siblings a lot. Despite their flaws, they're good people. Sort of. "I honestly need a break. I just dealt with a bunch of seven-year-olds for sword-fighting, I don't need another."
"Hey, you volunteered," Samantha points out and sends her a wry grin:"And after this meeting, you also have to look after the cleaning duty washing station and make sure those Hermes kids actually do what they're doing."
"Please don't remind me. I just hope all this is worth it."
"Hey if it was a democracy, I'll vote for you."
Juliana laughs, letting the stress that was tightly knotted inside her chest unfold and pour out. Sometimes Juliana wonders if she should let the counsellor role go. After all, she'll be doing online classes from New Rome University pretty soon as the term starts this following September so she'll have all the free time in the world in Camp Half-Blood. If she didn't have the counsellor role, she'll be able to travel as much as she likes to, go to the classes as she usually does, maybe even take an internship with her father in one of his battles in the Middle East?
That actually sounds really good. But being the counsellor sounds great too. So what should I do? Should I go for the-
"Attention everybody!" Chiron thumps his hoofs on the floor and the world lost its voice. Despite his middle-aged appearance of thinning brown hair and a scruffy five-o-clock shadow that is slowly encroaching across Chiron's face, Chiron still appears somewhat intimidating in his white centaur form and intense brown eyes. Behind him is Rachel Dare, the camp's oracle. Her dark red hair is strung up in a messily in a pin with locks of curly wayward hair hanging out while she sports one of those Forever 21 lace-up tops and a pair of denim shorts and John Lennon sunglasses perched on her forehead.
"I have grave news."
Juliana's eyebrows stitch together and lean in anticipation. Needless to say, she isn't the only one. Samantha straightens up at the prospect of 'grave news'. What could it possibly be?
"There's been a break-in at Katadiki."
Immediately, interests stir amongst the campers. The Athena Cabin is the only one who seems to take this news to heart, their eyes widening as they are the only people who know what Katadiki is. Juliana has heard the word thrown around before in cultural books and a few Ancient Greek texts but not in the sense that it is a place. Katadiki's literal translation in Greek is 'conviction'. She is not the only one confused. Chatter dominates the amphitheatre, rising up in a frenzy. Juliana can hear snippets of conversation flying back and forth:
"A break in-?"
"-wait, what?"
"What the Hades is that?'
"QUIET!" Chiron roar, his hoofs slamming onto the floor once more, ensuring a hushed silence that swallows the din of people's voices. Somewhere in Algeria, a neutrino sneezes, and everybody hears it perfectly fine.
Rachel Dare voluntarily steps in at the blank space of silence, emerging from the blended background. Though the redheaded oracle is quite short and marginal as compared to Chiron's centaur stature, she still maintains a strong presence. Everybody shifts their attention to her. She has changed so much since she first came. Now she's confident and eloquent, speaking without inflexion: "Katadiki is a prison...for demigods. It was built two years ago right after the Second Giant War when there's been an aftermath of paramilitary groups from Gaea's demigod forces. They were easily put down, of course, but there was no solution to what do we do with them. So, therefore, the Gods devised a plan- a prison for the worst demigods out there, from the criminal, for the dangerous, for the insane. And just last night, there's been a break-in by a group who call themselves The Celestials. This is not a surprise. For the last few months, there's been a…" Rachel pauses hesitantly, "...a disturbance. Something is going on."
Before even ten seconds after Rachel has finished her speech, uncontrollable exclamations break out from half the people in the amphitheatre. The news itself is too much to be borne: besides, the sight or even the thought of another apocalypse produce fear and anger automatically. Juliana freezes in her seat, congealed in her spot as the thought of another war looming toss and turn itself in her mind.
Though she isn't largely involved, she remembers those wars- the carnage, the death, the number of siblings she lost, the depression, fear and paranoia that seized the whole population of the camp. She doesn't know if she wants to see it again. Her brother, Alex, a son of Hermes, doesn't take much of those wars. He was only thirteen when it happened and as 'mature' as he claims himself to be when it happened, Alex didn't digest vividly what's going on around him during those wars. He was just part of a large shuffle of kids being packed into a bomb shelter underneath. Now he's fifteen and Juliana has hoped he could live out his teenage years in peace without dealing with any major spectacle but now…
"Everybody, relax," Rachel says, as her voice carries audibly through space. "It's just a bit of trouble here and there; so far, it's being managed. There's not even a prophecy-"
Midway through a sentence, Rachel stop herself. Her face is a tableau set in stone, her expression stretching in an almost comical way, mouth largely open and jaw muscles stretched. Then her green eyes glow completely emerald green, boring ultraviolets of neon green light into the horrified gaze of other teenagers. Like a string on a marionette, her body's limbs collapses under her weight only to be caught by Chiron, who gruffly order the trained Apollo campers to rush forward with a stool. They adjust Oracle-possessed Rachel onto the stool and mist ebbs out of Rachel's parted lips, words slithering out in a raspy, harsh voice that sounds like it's been having a throat infection for the last thousand years or so:
Born beneath the new moon on the night of the shadowed death,
Comes the child, born of time, to be blown away in fate's breath,
Parted in unison with the Triple Goddess Magi Prodigy,
Comes a partnership that will doom the mortal world for eternity;
Thus a new brethren of unlikely half-bloods are needed to rise,
Along with other campers from Greece and Rome united side by side.
Juliana's throat closed up. Something definitely bigger than just a disturbance is coming along.
HEY GUYS so I'm opening up the SYOC again to recruit some 'enemy' demigods to make Isaiah's group a little more formidable. As I don't want to create all of the people in Isaiah's group, I decided it'd be better to open up the SYOC again and let people submit characters! Below are the rules and info to apply.
RULES
1. Review before submitting. I want to see what you think of my writing style and the setting of the story. Make sure you read the story to get an understanding of Isaiah, Lyra and the organisation.
2. Send OCs through PM only. The reason for this is because if I have an enquiry on your character and being a Guest makes it difficult to reach to you,
3. Detail is appreciated. Please put some love into those characters.
4. No carbon copies of the original cast. You can have similarities; for example: So and so is broody and mysterious, like Nico but I also want different characters. Make sure you make them INTERESTING. Racial diversity is also extremely important. Don't be afraid to be very liberal to your characters- make them gay, transgender, I don't care. Actually, a transgender character sounds pretty lit.
-Sues and Gary-Stus. This is pretty self-explanatory. I mean, you're in Fanfiction and you have no idea what a Mary Sue is?
6. There are going to be 5 Inner Circle Characters accepted and 5 Coven of Hecate. The rest will be qualified as Celestials and be treated as supporting characters. Pertaining to my third and fourth rule, the more detail and the more interesting your character is the most likely chance you'll get a spot. This won't be a first-come-first-serve basis.
7. Speaking of characters, you can make them relate to the original cast but not directly. For example, your character could be a cousin of Leo from his mother's side or something like that but you can't be a sister or a brother as that complicates things.
9. In order to make sure you've the rules, please put 'i like pizza' at the end of your form. And the form will also be on my profile. :)
ISAIAH'S ORGANISATION: The Celestials.
The Celestials was formed by Isaiah Wallace, a son of Kronos, who formed an organisation based on the beliefs that those of godly descent are proven to be a far superior race than the mortals. He doesn't understand why mortals are allowed to control the world while the demigods are forced to hide in camps and forced to shield their abilities under the Mist. He started this organisation on the basis of rescuing demigods from their abusive mortal parents but as they expand over the recent years, their motives have moved from innocent and uplifting to becoming supremacist and discriminatory to those of mortal heritage, who they view as 'unworthy' and slaves. Therefore, they are an organisation hell-bent on ensuring that demigods have the chance to become on top of the world and rule mortals as well as making sure that polytheists religions become the norm once more.
Inner Circle is the small group of people that surrounds Isaiah. Similar to how Goebbels, Himmler and Bormann are the inner circle to Hitler in Nazi Germany, these people are the inner circle who surround Isaiah and act as his trusted advisors. They are the people who are in leadership positions, such as the recruiting faculty, the army division, paramilitary group general, so on and so forth. Erika Freeman [Isaiah's childhood friend who helped him discover his abilities] is known to be one of these members.
Coven of Hecate is a faction within The Celestials led by Lyra Burke, a prodigal daughter of Hecate who is a master at the magic of illusion and manipulating the Mist in order to force you to believe whatever version of reality she wants you to believe. The Coven of Hecate is a group of demigods and legacies from Hecate, specially designed in helping the Celestial stay off the grid through magical assistance. People who are favoured by Hecate and therefore given special magical abilities are also accepted into the coven. The Coven's magic are not only limited through Greek magic; they are woven within Egyptian magic, Wiccan rituals, Nordic witchcraft, so on and so forth.
ENEMY FORM.
General
Name:
Full Name (First, Middle, & Last):
Nickname:
Age:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Appearance
Weight:
Height:
Skintone:
Race:
Hair (Length, style and anything else you want to put):
Eye (Color, shape anything you want):
Clothes:
Facial Structure:
Tattoos/Scars/Birthmarks:
Anything Else:
Any celebrity look alike?:
Mental/Emotional
Personality (Be descriptive- a paragraph MINIMUM):
Quirks:
Likes:
Dislikes:
Fears:
Hobbies:
Secrets:
Dreams for the future:
Introvert/Extrovert:
Optimist/Pessimist/Realist:
Fatal Flaw:
Background
Coven of Hecate: [yes or no, if yes please also include their relationship with Lyra and their affiliation with the group]
Inner Circle: [Yes or No, please also include their relationship with Isaiah and affiliation with the group]
History (how did they become in contact with the Celestials or rise up to join Isaiah's Inner Circle or Lyra's Coven of Hecate?)
Homelife:
Mortal Parent:
Divine Parent:
Roman/Greek:
Other Family:
Hometown:
Relationship with mortal parent:
Relationship with divine parent:
Battle
Weapon/s:
Powers: [if coven of Hecate, please specify their specialised abilities]
Armor:
Magical Items:
Skills:
Fighting Style:
How they act in battle (Both strategically and mentally):
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Misc
Anything you want to see in the plot involving your character:
Theme Song?:
Thoughts on Gods:
Thoughts on Demigods:
Thoughts on Mortals:
Thoughts on the Celestials:
Thoughts on Isaiah:
Thoughts on Lyra:
Quotes:
Anything Else: