- Location
- California,USA
No idea, I don't know the choices beyond a name idea.
AU Percy Jackson Post Apocalypse Quest
- Thread starter Tjakari
- Start date
lol. I thought you had some idea what we could choose in the character creation since you said you had a plan. Now I am curious, whats the name?
- Location
- California,USA
Alan Joseph Federov. AJ to his friends and Federov to his Neighbors.
- Location
- The Colored Room
- Pronouns
- TheOne
Making me blush over here.
It's less about choosing and more about who's in focus. The main character will be an OC and depending on the background chosen, they might not even know any of the main characters, so certain names might not come up. (Or I've forgotten about them, so please refresh my memory on your beloveds, I promise I won't kill them)
I don't have a list of who's dead or alive, but there are definitely some people who might be considered complete goners that I'd be open to canonizing a survival or alternate life path potentially in an omake, or if I want to do something to them.
Ethan Nakamura for example, Thalia, Silena Beauregard etc.
Embrace the extent of the changes. This isn't What If The Last Olympian went wrong, it's what if the Gods fell in PJO universe. Much more broad.
The only assurance I will give is that everyone with a name has been born, at some point. The circumstances could be entirely different.
Age of Fear, by a wide margin. It's basically a Titanomachy Cold War. There's a chance for a happy ending there, there's structure, blessings, lot of room for good traits, artifacts and bonuses. It's also the one that I find most boring, compared to the others. Bittersweet is more my speed. But it would have been the most stable choice.
I was always going to roll for the fate of the Gods, but this scenario and Age of Death are built around being the least charitable to the gods as possible.
Age of Gold would be the most uncharitable to Humans. That is all I will say.
Age of Death is pretty self explanatory, everything is fucked up in that one, reality is fucked up in that one. And even worse, it's widespread and partially inescapable. There are upsides to the breakdown, but that only comes into play if you can survive long enough. If the world is coherent for long enough.
Whether you guys know it or not, New York rolling so low is a tragedy for the short term, but the medium term gives a lot of breathing room. The Titans stepped basically stepped on a rake.
This is the middle of the road path. But it still has the capacity to get worse depending on how the dice go. The how's and why's are the difference, but the severity of other paths is always possible.
This sounds like the trigger phrase for a Manchurian candidate.`
- Location
- California,USA
Well, the idea is that Alan's well...his parents liked the film...and he's half Ukrainian (On one side of his family) in my head.
What, AJ Federov sounds like a terrifying in the right context and who knows? I'm just excited to see this journey begin.
I guess Hecate, the Titan Goddess would be the one of most well faring of the gods in this scenario. ( Tho we still have the dice)
- Location
- The Colored Room
- Pronouns
- TheOne
Am I Kronos here?
They are very much welcome, some may be canonized, and there will be bonuses.
Thank you my friend.
I like it.
- Location
- California,USA
I mean if you want? It could have been Luke's idea, or whats left of him?
OH BOY! Here I go writing again!
Good luck!
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- Location
- Somewhere
0? This is QM fiat right? Far as I know 0 is not possible on a 1d100.
- Location
- The Z-Cave
I gotta give Kronos props here, after all the shit Zeus got away with in Percy Jackson and the original myths him being taken down so thoroughly is extremely cathartic.
Vive La Revolution! La Ancièn Regime has finally shown its Oppressive Shackles removed by the Perfidious Lukian-Titan Coalition, now to quickly fracture with their focus of their anger gone and into infighting (Luke would push for a more Equalist Approach against Cold-Blooded Kronos who seeks to bring forth the Titan's Status Quo.)
The Olympian Approach has fallen, with Percy Jackson's fate unknown and likely on the Wanted List of the Coalition forces.
The Only Way to Continue, is to adapt and promote a new change away from the Stagnating Olympians. A War of Survival. The Reliance on Grand Heroes cannot continue, for every Demi a Hero.
While Camp Halfblood and the Olympians has fallen, The Demi Liberation Front has started anew..a New Leader must be chosen in replacement of Zeus and even the Charismatic Parker Jonah Jameson.
However, what must be dealt with..is the likely Defeatism of the Demigods and Demigodesses and other Allies.
Zeus in this senerio was always going to lose
- Location
- California,USA
The End?
(Alan Joseph Federov)
Opening Social Security File…
Name: Alan Joseph Federov
Social Security Number: *****1259
Birthplace: Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
---------------------------------------------------------
We're all going to die here.
It wasn't a falsehood, it was a response to the overwhelming sense of fear in your heart. No war tricks…or cleverness would get anyone out of this now…only blind fear and cowardness. Everyone knew going into this… it would be unpleasant.
Get them out…get anyone out!
The Olympians had abandoned their children to doom, as all desperation had forced them to think only of themselves.
It was disgraceful…but very human of them.
When you visited your Grandmother in Greenburg, she often told stories of your grandfather and his father before him; how they were fighters in the World Wars; and how despite everything, they never truly gave into despair, even when imprisoned.
Of course, it took a special type of man to keep a fighting spirit in a world where you could not achieve victory, but survive in one's own way with his soul intact. You hoped that you were cut from the same cloth.
We're all going to die…
"Die…" You said to the voice of terror in your head. "To die without doing anything is the greatest shame one can have."
Rear Guard Duty…all the campers were now…was a glorified evacuation corridor.
We go to death, with a smile…knowing that we did not stand by and let the darkness swallow our loved ones…The innocent…the UNBORN and the rest.
It was the only duty left for them…
Heroes…every one of them deserved the monikors, more than the gods and the traitors who continue to.
The ground shook…in agony cutting off your train of thought; the powers of unspeakable forces clashing could be felt even now.
Even this far away?
In times of terror, in times of the greatest uncertainty, you never turned to the Gods of Olympus, not truly…while they were family-. You shook your head.
You never could bring yourself to pray with the same fervor as some of the others.
After today…you doubted you ever will.
"Alan." One of the others said as you looked at her, you think she was a daughter of Ares, one of them at least, you couldn't remember her name at this moment. "Are we going to die?"
I want to say no…to say we'll make it, I want to lie to them…I want them to have hope.
But then I'd be no better than the liars above. The Ones who sat on their mountain brought this upon us all.
You had to give Ethan and the rest some credit, they weren't wrong about their grievances.
"There are two quotes on death to bring you comfort, we can't always choose when it happens. Only how we act when it happens." You said.
"Death smiles at all of us, but all man can do is smile back." You said, quoting Meditations, it was an old comfort. You wondered what Marcus Aurelius would have done in their shoes.
Fight and Die like a Roman.
"That doesn't make me feel better Alan." She said.
Shite…time to change strategies! If old wisdom can't work…then we'll just have to steal from something more recent.
"Don't fear death, Death is always by our side. When we show fear, it jumps at us faster than light, but if we do not show fear, it casts its eye upon us gently and then guides us into infinity…" You said.
"You stole that from Cowboy Bebop." She said, the feeling of life and emotion returning as if she was distracted from the fear of death.
"I can't believe someone else watched that on Toonami!" You said. "I thought I was literally the only one that watched late-night cartoons at home."
"Oh god…now I have to die near a weirdo…Alan, I thought you were cool with this whole "I'm afraid of death and terror its duty shit… you're just a weirdo!" She said.
"Oh shut up we have a high chance of dying, we all cope in our own way, I don't wanna die embarrassed, Lifes hard enough!" You said.
"Yeah, it's over now…the whole damn thing. What are we gonna do now?" She asked.
"I don't rightfully know. All we can do is, get these people out, and watch the sunrise tomorrow, after that, who knows." You said. "Maybe find a good movie theater that has something good on. Did promise Grandma I'd take her to the movies with my friends."
"You're not thinking about you know anything bigger?" She asked.
You shrugged. "Once we reach somewhere safe-."
And then far away in the south the crackle of lightning and energy.
He almost froze in fear…
All GONE!
And then all he could say as the wave of energy from New York fell over them…the aftershock of the finale of an epoch crescendoed.
"The End." You said as the entire world went silent, the group fell silent, and the passengers shuddered in unease as something told them inside that something had changed forever.
It was over.
The Light was gone.
And after this...
"Nightfall." You said as you finally let yourself collapse under the weight of your fears.
AN: I deliberately kept his Godly Parent ambiguous, but I've got a hint or two in here if you squint hard enough.
This shows his personality a bit.
He's bitter, but not a fatalist, he's wise but not perfect.
The Right man, in a world gone to hell.
Enjoy.
(Alan Joseph Federov)
Opening Social Security File…
Name: Alan Joseph Federov
Social Security Number: *****1259
Birthplace: Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
---------------------------------------------------------
We're all going to die here.
It wasn't a falsehood, it was a response to the overwhelming sense of fear in your heart. No war tricks…or cleverness would get anyone out of this now…only blind fear and cowardness. Everyone knew going into this… it would be unpleasant.
Get them out…get anyone out!
The Olympians had abandoned their children to doom, as all desperation had forced them to think only of themselves.
It was disgraceful…but very human of them.
When you visited your Grandmother in Greenburg, she often told stories of your grandfather and his father before him; how they were fighters in the World Wars; and how despite everything, they never truly gave into despair, even when imprisoned.
Of course, it took a special type of man to keep a fighting spirit in a world where you could not achieve victory, but survive in one's own way with his soul intact. You hoped that you were cut from the same cloth.
We're all going to die…
"Die…" You said to the voice of terror in your head. "To die without doing anything is the greatest shame one can have."
Rear Guard Duty…all the campers were now…was a glorified evacuation corridor.
We go to death, with a smile…knowing that we did not stand by and let the darkness swallow our loved ones…The innocent…the UNBORN and the rest.
It was the only duty left for them…
Heroes…every one of them deserved the monikors, more than the gods and the traitors who continue to.
The ground shook…in agony cutting off your train of thought; the powers of unspeakable forces clashing could be felt even now.
Even this far away?
In times of terror, in times of the greatest uncertainty, you never turned to the Gods of Olympus, not truly…while they were family-. You shook your head.
You never could bring yourself to pray with the same fervor as some of the others.
After today…you doubted you ever will.
"Alan." One of the others said as you looked at her, you think she was a daughter of Ares, one of them at least, you couldn't remember her name at this moment. "Are we going to die?"
I want to say no…to say we'll make it, I want to lie to them…I want them to have hope.
But then I'd be no better than the liars above. The Ones who sat on their mountain brought this upon us all.
You had to give Ethan and the rest some credit, they weren't wrong about their grievances.
"There are two quotes on death to bring you comfort, we can't always choose when it happens. Only how we act when it happens." You said.
"Death smiles at all of us, but all man can do is smile back." You said, quoting Meditations, it was an old comfort. You wondered what Marcus Aurelius would have done in their shoes.
Fight and Die like a Roman.
"That doesn't make me feel better Alan." She said.
Shite…time to change strategies! If old wisdom can't work…then we'll just have to steal from something more recent.
"Don't fear death, Death is always by our side. When we show fear, it jumps at us faster than light, but if we do not show fear, it casts its eye upon us gently and then guides us into infinity…" You said.
"You stole that from Cowboy Bebop." She said, the feeling of life and emotion returning as if she was distracted from the fear of death.
"I can't believe someone else watched that on Toonami!" You said. "I thought I was literally the only one that watched late-night cartoons at home."
"Oh god…now I have to die near a weirdo…Alan, I thought you were cool with this whole "I'm afraid of death and terror its duty shit… you're just a weirdo!" She said.
"Oh shut up we have a high chance of dying, we all cope in our own way, I don't wanna die embarrassed, Lifes hard enough!" You said.
"Yeah, it's over now…the whole damn thing. What are we gonna do now?" She asked.
"I don't rightfully know. All we can do is, get these people out, and watch the sunrise tomorrow, after that, who knows." You said. "Maybe find a good movie theater that has something good on. Did promise Grandma I'd take her to the movies with my friends."
"You're not thinking about you know anything bigger?" She asked.
You shrugged. "Once we reach somewhere safe-."
And then far away in the south the crackle of lightning and energy.
He almost froze in fear…
All GONE!
And then all he could say as the wave of energy from New York fell over them…the aftershock of the finale of an epoch crescendoed.
"The End." You said as the entire world went silent, the group fell silent, and the passengers shuddered in unease as something told them inside that something had changed forever.
It was over.
The Light was gone.
And after this...
"Nightfall." You said as you finally let yourself collapse under the weight of your fears.
AN: I deliberately kept his Godly Parent ambiguous, but I've got a hint or two in here if you squint hard enough.
This shows his personality a bit.
He's bitter, but not a fatalist, he's wise but not perfect.
The Right man, in a world gone to hell.
Enjoy.
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Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
That was fast.
I thought that would take you an hour at least
It has been unknown how many millennia or centuries ago the Olympians faced a war since the Great War against the Giants that have invaded them. Ever since then, the Gods and Goddesses of Olympus only become entrenched as the World went onwards. Now – A War occurs – with the destruction of New York by the Titans, bringing untold casualties ranging from the Mortals to the seemingly missing Leader of the Olympians, Zeus. The Survivors are unknown, for many have perished from the attack. What is known, however, to everyone else, is the start of a Titanomachy –
The Second Titanomachy.
Quote Of The Day: "I am time, the cause of world-destruction, mighty; come here to annihilate the worlds." – The Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 11 Verse 32 (A Translation of It).
The Olympians have fallen, The Romans are Next.
N/A: Based on the Kaiserredux 2nd Weltkreig Super Event.
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- Location
- Norway
That start was brutal. This is going to be great.
Zeus must have had a moment when Hestia threw water into the fireplace and left.
Its been years since I read the books, so I don't remember how the Greek/Roman separation worked.
I would assume gods like Ares will permanently retire his Ares persona and continue on as Mars, while Athena and Poseidon will not do that.
Zeus must have had a moment when Hestia threw water into the fireplace and left.
Its been years since I read the books, so I don't remember how the Greek/Roman separation worked.
I would assume gods like Ares will permanently retire his Ares persona and continue on as Mars, while Athena and Poseidon will not do that.
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Kufufu
Adequate at best
- Location
- What's it to ya?
@Ghost in the sun
Surprise! I liked your first posts so much I went and made a four thousand word omake for them.
H-haha...
My hands just started moving and they didn't stop until I was finished, hope you don't mind?
# The Siege of Olympus: Day 1-7
The sky was ablaze with the fury of the gods as I, Felix, a child of Hecate, stood on the once-bustling streets of New York. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and fear. Around me, my fellow demigods readied their weapons, their faces set with grim determination. We were the first line of defense, the barrier between the monsters of old and the mortal world.
The vanguard crashed upon us with the ferocity of a tsunami, a horde of nightmares ripped straight from the depths of Tartarus. Their teeth bared, claws extended, and weapons at the ready, they surged forward in a wave of destruction. Amidst the chaos, I swung my flail with precision, the hollow metal ball at its end trailing plumes of silver smoke that solidified into shields and spears under the command of the Mist.
"Stay close!" I bellowed to Lena, my comrade-in-arms and daughter of Hermes. She weaved through the fray, her twin daggers a whirlwind of celestial Bronze. She acknowledged my call with a swift nod, her gaze locked onto the next monstrosity. We were a storm of our own making, a tempest that answered the dark with light and fury.
As I dispatched a Dracaenae, its serpentine form dissolving into dust, a shadow loomed over me—a cyclops, its solitary eye burning with malevolence. It charged, the ground trembling beneath its colossal weight, its trident aimed to impale. With a defiant roar, I met its advance, swinging my flail in a wide arc. The metal ball struck true, clashing against the trident with a resounding clang that echoed through the battlefield. From the point of impact, a burst of silver smoke billowed forth, coalescing into an impenetrable shield that thwarted the creature's strike.
Seizing the moment, Lena sprang into action, her blades dancing across the cyclops's tendons with lethal grace. It howled, a sound of agony that pierced the din of battle, and crumpled to its knees, a ploom of bronze dust marking each of its wounds.
With the beast now vulnerable, I raised my flail high, the symbols of Hecate etched upon its handle glowing with otherworldly energy. I brought it down with all the force of my lineage, the metal ball smashing into the cyclops's skull. There was a moment of resistance, a split second where the world held its breath, and then the creature's form crumbled, exploding into a cloud of bronze dust that glittered in the air like a macabre confetti.
We stood back-to-back, Lena and I, as the dust settled around us and the sky rained lighting. Our victory was but a brief respite in the relentless tide of battle, yet it was a testament to our resolve. The Seige of Olympus had only begone.
The days blurred together, each one a relentless onslaught of battle. We fought back-to-back, our weapons singing a deadly chorus against the monstrous horde. Every clash of bronze, every spell cast, was a testament to our will to survive.
It was on the seventh day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, that we felt it—the slightest shift in the tide. The monsters hesitated, their snarls turning to whimpers. We pressed our advantage, driving them back with renewed vigor.
As night fell, we gathered our wounded and counted the dead. There were more no Demigod corpses pulled aside, but the monsters were indiscriminate in their hunt, more often going for defenseless mortals over the armed children of the gods. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the sudden understanding that for all that we were trained for this, we were few. Too horrendously few, and we were already a little less capable of saving anyone than when we came here. We were demigods, children of the gods, but at that moment, we were also just kids, far too young to carry the burden of the world.
But carry it we would. Because if not us, then who? Silent gods? Absent Hunters?
There was only one god in New York that didn't fight with Kronos, and for all that he fought against the hoard of monsters, he didn't fight with the Demigods.
It had to be us. There was simply no one else.
# The Siege of Olympus: Day 8
The eighth day dawned with a grim promise, the sky painted in hues of despair. We had barely a moment's respite before the next wave of Tartarus's minions bore down upon us. Lena and I stood shoulder to shoulder, our breaths coming in ragged gasps, our bodies aching from the relentless combat.
More cyclops, probably the bigger and more emotional brothers of the one from the day before if their annoying bellowing was anything to go by, emerged from the smog of war, their eyes fixed on us with murderous intent. I tightened my grip on my flail, feeling the familiar thrum of magic coursing through the weapon. Lena readied her daggers, sliding into a more energy-efficient stance that told me she was more tired than she looked. I slipped out a sigh in between my panting and rolled my shoulders. By Hecate, if I ever see another Cyclopse after this I'll lose it.
A cyclops roared (shocking), a sound that vibrated through the very stones street, and charged. I swung my flail, invoking the power of the Mist. Silver smoke billowed forth, shaping into a javelin that soared through the air and struck the cyclops squarely in the chest. It stumbled, the impact slowing its advance but not stopping it.
Lena leaped into action, her daggers flashing as she danced around the cyclops, striking at its legs, trying to bring it down. I joined her, my flail a blur as I targeted the creature's head, each strike coinciding with a prayer to Hecate for help, prayers I had almost deluded myself into thinking were being answered.
But then, tragedy struck. Zoe, the daughter of Nemesis and a fellow resident of the Hermies cabin, had been fighting nearby, her chakrams slicing through the air with deadly grace. She had set a trap for another cyclops, a patch of Hephestus approved ever stick glue (100% assured to molecularly bond two objects on your drachma back!). But in it's fury, the creature had simply ran over the trap (getting more and more asphalt stuck to its soles as it ran), and Zoe found herself in the path of its thunderous charge with nowhere to run.
I watched in horror as the cyclops barreled into her, the force of the impact sending her flying. She crashed to the ground with a sickening thud, her chakrams clattering beside her. The cyclops loomed over her, raising its mostly asphalt foot to deliver a crushing blow.
"No!" I screamed, my voice lost in the cacophony of battle. Time seemed to slow as I tried to work the mist to alter the monster's perceptions, have him strike the earth beside Zoe, and give her a chance to escape, my heart pounding in my chest. I was too late. Zoe screamed out a desperate "Ten Fold!" and the cyclops's foot came down, and Zoe was paste.
The beast turned its attention back to us, a guttural laugh rumbling from its throat. A horrified rage filled me, but burning fury eclipsed all fear. I raised my flail, the symbols of Hecate glowing with a fierce light.
"You won't take another," I snarled, and with all the force of my grief and anger, I moved to attack it, when suddenly a massive cement foot fell from the heavens and crushed the cyclops beneath it. For a moment I was stunned, but recalling both Zoe's parentage and her last words forced an unthinking laugh from me when I processed how she had avenged herself.
The fight wound down from there, with the monsters failing to do more than wound any of us.
We had won the skirmish, but the cost was high. Zoe, who had worked for fairness with her every action, who was one of the first to stand with the idea that we go to New York and evacuate not only our mortal families, but any mortals we could, was also the first of us to fall. We had lost one of our best, and the victory tasted like ash in our mouths.
The battle for New York raged on, but for a moment, we mourned. We mourned for Zoe, for the innocence we had lost, and for the uncertain future that lay ahead.
# The Siege of Olympus: Day 15
The fifteenth day broke with a heavy heart, the sky above Olympus a canvas of brooding storm clouds. The air was thick with the scent of impending doom, and the silence that hung over us was more terrifying than the cacophony of battle that had become our constant companion.
I found Marco, my cousin, the son of Hephaestus, checking the straps on his armor, his war hammer resting against his shoulder. He looked up and gave me a grim smile. "Ready to take another bite out of the big apple, Felix?" he joked, though the weariness in his eyes betrayed his jovial tone.
I punched him on the shoulder, feeling the solid weight of his armor I had stupidly forgotten he was wearing and lightly hurting my hand in the process (ouch!). "Let's send those bastards home!" I replied, trying to infuse some confidence into my voice even as I shook the pain out of my hand.
We took our positions at the front lines, the familiar weight of my flail a reassuring presence in my hand. Lena, the daughter of Hermes, was stationed somewhere in the backlines, out of my sight. Not far from us, another group of Half Bloods were working to evacuate some mortals, including Marco's own family, from an apartment building. Our job was to hold the line and make sure they didn't have to worry about monsters from this direction, their job was to ensure we didn't have to do our job for too long.
It's a great system when it works, but there was really only so much we could do here. The more time we spent above ground directly increased the number of monsters that broke off from attacking Olympus or feasting on the mortals in favor of trying for some sweet, sweet demigod blood.
The enemy came at us like a flood from three directions, a mass of fur, feathers, and scales, seeking to overwhelm us with savagery and numbers, just as they had every time before.
Marco was already in the thick of it, swinging his war hammer like he was born with it in his hand—which, knowing our godly parents, might not be too far from the truth, every swing sent at least one ploom of bronze dust into the air and the monsters seemed tourn from trying to pile onto him for vengeance or scurrying away from him out of fear. I was doing my best to keep up, my flail leaving trails of silver smoke as I wove spells into existence, ticking Harpies into dive-bombing their own allies, and reminding monsters why humans made helmets as every swing of my flail ended with a satisfying Bonk and some Bronze dust for my trouble.
Then, as if the universe decided we weren't having enough fun fighting for our lives, the ground beneath an old apartment complex began to shake. Before we could say 'Mother, why?,' a drakon the size of a subway train burst out, its scales shimmering like a disco ball from Hades. The building groaned, clearly unhappy about being used as a monster jack-in-the-box.
The drakon roared, and I swear I felt my hair stand on end—not a great look for me. It charged, barreling through the battlefield and turning our already messy fight into a full-blown disaster. We were already dealing with a flight of harpies, a pack of hellhounds, and a squad of Dracaenae, let's just add a Drakon in as well, because why not?
Marco caught my eye, and I could see the gears turning in his head. He was always the one to jump into the forge first, so to speak. "Fallback!" he yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Get to safety!"
I wanted to argue, to tell him he was being an idiot, but the look on his face stopped me. He was serious, and he was scared—not for himself, but for everyone else. With a heavy heart, I started moving away with the others, trusting Marco to do whatever crazy thing he had planned.
With a battle cry that would've made both Pan and Aries proud, Marco swung his hammer at the building's last standing support. The cracks shot through the structure like the lightning that was even now shooting through the sky, and with a rumble that I felt in my bones, the building came crashing down. The drakon and the rest of the monsters were buried under a mountain of rubble and dust.
But so was Marco.
The dust settled, and for a moment I thought the silence that followed was the worst sound I'd ever heard. Marco had saved us, saved his family, but the cost was too high. He was another hero, the kind that didn't get a shroud or a pure. He was the kind that just did what he could while he could do it. He was the kind like Zoe.
Looking at that rubble a part of me realized that the deaths so far hadn't just been flooks, they were the natural results of our lives and actions, and there were going to be more of them, probably before we made camp that night. Not long after that realization, Marco's mother, being among the last of the mortals to leave the building we were evacuating, had a lovely view of her son sacrificing himself for others (because of course she did, fucking fates.) and she promptly let loose what was actually the worst sound I ever heard.
# The Siege of Olympus: Day 29 - Helios Takes the Wheel
8:00 pm
Day 29 of our "We're Not Dead Yet" tour started with a sky so gloomy it made Eeyore look like a motivational speaker. The night of day that makes you wish you'd stayed in bed—if, you know, your bed wasn't a pile of rubble and your blanket wasn't consistently getting torn to make bandages for wounds that our dwindling supply of Nector and Abrosia couldn't heal.
The air was buzzing, and not in the "I just had six cups of coffee" kind of way, but more like "the big bad sun god is coming to fry us like eggs" kind of way. Word on the wind was that Helios, the original sun chariot driver, had been ordered to leave his retirement and to turn us into demigod toast. And let me tell you, the thought of facing a god who used to light up the whole world every morning was about as comforting as a hug from a Python.
Lena and I were on monster watch at Central Park, which had gone from "place to feed the pigeons" to "place for the Hermes cabin and friends to fend off the legions of darkness" real quick. The other demigods were doing their best warrior impressions, but you could tell everyone was thinking how were were probably going to die before we finished the evacuation. Night had fallen hours ago, and just as Lena and I were commiserating about having been worried for nothing, the night turned to day.
Then, out of nowhere, the earth started dancing the cupid shuffle. In the distance, there he was—Helios, looking like part of the sun has just fallen into the earth so it could make terrible, violent love with our slowly searing irises. The guy was glowing so bright, I bet he could be seen from the moon.
"Brace yourselves!" Someone yelled, but honestly, while well intended, it seemed like telling a squirrel to brace itself for an oncoming truck.
Helios let out a roar that could've woken up Hypnos himself (Good, maybe the fucker will come and help us!), and he charged at us like we were the last Black Friday sale on earth. The clash was epic—like, special effects budget through the roof epic. We had swords clashing, spells flying, and one very angry sun god turning the battlefield into his personal barbecue pit.
But then, something amazing happened. One of our brainiacs, a child of Athena, must've had a serious lightbulb moment. They woke up the statues around New York, and suddenly we had an army of marble and bronze buddies joining the party. These stony soldiers started helping with the evacuation, throwing punches like they were auditioning for Rocky.
The statues of New York had come to life, and let me tell you, it was like watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, if the balloons were armed and really ticked off. They were throwing punches, swinging lampposts, and doing a pretty good job at keeping the monsters at bay while the rest of us worked on getting the mortals to safety.
In the midst of the chaos, Chloe, the daughter of Nemesis, found herself face-to-face with Helios. It was the ultimate showdown, a battle of vengeance versus the sun itself. Chloe's skin burned from being too close to the Titan of the sun, but she fought with a ferocity that matched his own, each strike ringing with a desire for vengeance against Kronos and his forces. With the name "Zoe" as her war cry for every strike, she took her revenge on the Sun. For a moment, just a heartbeat really, it looked like Chloe might pull off the impossible. But fate, as it often does, had other plans. Her spear snapped like a twig on his sheild, and Helios, with all the compassion of a beast, struck her down. Chloe's last words were a curse, the kind that would have made her sister proud. "Repaid tenfold," she spat, and then she was gone, a hero to the end.
With Chloe's fall, our steady withdrawal turned into a full-on sprint. The statues were doing their best Rocky impressions, but we were outnumbered, outflanked, and out of options. That's when Nora stepped up to the plate.
Nora, daughter of Eris, was chaos personified. She laughed in the face of danger—literally. Her cackle echoed over the battlefield as she danced through the enemy, leaving confusion in her wake. But as we fled, Nora stayed behind, facing down Helios and his minions. She fought like a whirlwind, a blur of blades, and bronze dust and mischief, until the very chaos she loved swallowed her whole. Struck by an erent Lighting bolt, She went down grinning, as if in dying she'd told the grandest joke in the world.
Then there was Isabel, our ray of hope in a world gone dark. Daughter of Hebe, she had healing hands that could make the worst boo-boo feel like a scratch. But without ambrosia, the mortals were out of luck. So Isabel did what any self-respecting demigod would—she took one for the team. She ate the ambrosia herself, channeling its power to heal many who would have otherwise died, but it was too much, too fast. She burned out, a candle snuffed by the very wind it sought to warm.
The retreat continued, the statues holding the line as we fell back. The losses were heavy, the pain of each fallen Hero a weight upon our hearts. But we carried on, because that's what heroes do. We fight, we fall, we get up again. For Zoe, for Marco, Chloe, for Isabel, for Nora—for all those who had given everything so we might lose less, we would keep fighting.
As we clashed with Helios's forces, I thought about how this was the kind of story that would make Homer toss his lyre into the sea. Helios was tough, sure, but we were better than just Olympian material, and we don't roll over for anyone.
The siege raged on, each of us fighting with the kind of gusto that would have Hercules lining up for autographs. While we ran, we found ourselves linking up with the other groups of campers, who were usually also being changed by monsters of their own, but we seem to have been the only group unlucky enough to get a Titan. The common theme so far was that everyone was standing as tall as we could manage with tired muscles and aching bones, for our families, for Earth, and for every campfire song yet to be sung. We were the day's last stand, the final line between dusk and the darkness.
**Day 30: The Final Stand**
12:00 am
The last day of the siege wasn't the stuff of victory parades or triumphant cheers. It was the kind of day that would make even the most optimistic oracle throw in the towel. Grace, daughter of Demiter, who could make a dandelion feel like a redwood, summoned the last of her energy to conjure a barrier of thorns. It sprang up like a porcupine on a bad hair day, giving us just enough time to catch our breath and not much else.
That's when we noticed it—the lightning from Zeus's Master Bolt, which had been our own personal rave party in the sky, was fizzling out. The once-electric blue began to fade, and the clouds started to look more like dirty laundry than divine wrath. Olympus was on the dead, and if we didn't finish up and flee the city with whoever we had saved already, we'd be going down with the ship.
We huddled up, all of the demigods left in the city, with more scars than a scrimshaw map of the underworld, and cooked up a plan. We'd make a break for the bridges, using the Mist like a magician's cloak to vanish into thin air. Leaving the city and the people in it to Kronos's nonexistent mercy felt like signing the death warrant for everyone there, but we had already done everything we could.
We ran from the city with our tails between our legs, those who could use the mist to cloak our movements did so while all the Titans and most of the monsters rushed the Empire State Building, I couldn't help but sneak a peek over my shoulder. The city, my city, was now just a giant feeding pen for monsters. I sent up a silent, mostly ironic, Hail Mary—or in my case, a Hail Hecate—hoping my mom had her ear to the ground.
We could have won if you had tried. All of this could have been avoided. Will you look back on this month and regret your choice someday in the future? Do you regret it already?"
The only reply was the echo of our own footsteps, a staccato beat to the rhythm of retreat.
So there we were, hoofing it with everything we could carry, while behind us, some of the kindest, bravest souls I've ever known stayed back to buy us time. Another few dozen heroes, another few dozen shrouds to burn with no bodies, standing their ground so the wounded, the mortals, and the ankle-biters could make a run for it. I half wish I had stayed with them, but they insisted that the evacuees needed to be guarded by somebody, if those people happened to be a few years younger than everyone who signed on as a distraction that was simply a coincidence.
Something died in us when we made it out of the city, and not long after that, the city itself along with the Heroes inside of it died as well, when Kronos announced his victory over the West by leveling the city to the ground. I suppose I'm not too surprised that he had an "everything must go" kinda mentality when it came to sweeping aside the old regime. I suppose that means it's only a matter of time before he goes for the rest of the gods, and then the Demigods, and then the Mortals.
I suppose that means we lost the battle.
I suppose that means he thinks he won the War.
I suppose we will just have to prove him wrong.
Surprise! I liked your first posts so much I went and made a four thousand word omake for them.
H-haha...
My hands just started moving and they didn't stop until I was finished, hope you don't mind?
# The Siege of Olympus: Day 1-7
The sky was ablaze with the fury of the gods as I, Felix, a child of Hecate, stood on the once-bustling streets of New York. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and fear. Around me, my fellow demigods readied their weapons, their faces set with grim determination. We were the first line of defense, the barrier between the monsters of old and the mortal world.
The vanguard crashed upon us with the ferocity of a tsunami, a horde of nightmares ripped straight from the depths of Tartarus. Their teeth bared, claws extended, and weapons at the ready, they surged forward in a wave of destruction. Amidst the chaos, I swung my flail with precision, the hollow metal ball at its end trailing plumes of silver smoke that solidified into shields and spears under the command of the Mist.
"Stay close!" I bellowed to Lena, my comrade-in-arms and daughter of Hermes. She weaved through the fray, her twin daggers a whirlwind of celestial Bronze. She acknowledged my call with a swift nod, her gaze locked onto the next monstrosity. We were a storm of our own making, a tempest that answered the dark with light and fury.
As I dispatched a Dracaenae, its serpentine form dissolving into dust, a shadow loomed over me—a cyclops, its solitary eye burning with malevolence. It charged, the ground trembling beneath its colossal weight, its trident aimed to impale. With a defiant roar, I met its advance, swinging my flail in a wide arc. The metal ball struck true, clashing against the trident with a resounding clang that echoed through the battlefield. From the point of impact, a burst of silver smoke billowed forth, coalescing into an impenetrable shield that thwarted the creature's strike.
Seizing the moment, Lena sprang into action, her blades dancing across the cyclops's tendons with lethal grace. It howled, a sound of agony that pierced the din of battle, and crumpled to its knees, a ploom of bronze dust marking each of its wounds.
With the beast now vulnerable, I raised my flail high, the symbols of Hecate etched upon its handle glowing with otherworldly energy. I brought it down with all the force of my lineage, the metal ball smashing into the cyclops's skull. There was a moment of resistance, a split second where the world held its breath, and then the creature's form crumbled, exploding into a cloud of bronze dust that glittered in the air like a macabre confetti.
We stood back-to-back, Lena and I, as the dust settled around us and the sky rained lighting. Our victory was but a brief respite in the relentless tide of battle, yet it was a testament to our resolve. The Seige of Olympus had only begone.
The days blurred together, each one a relentless onslaught of battle. We fought back-to-back, our weapons singing a deadly chorus against the monstrous horde. Every clash of bronze, every spell cast, was a testament to our will to survive.
It was on the seventh day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, that we felt it—the slightest shift in the tide. The monsters hesitated, their snarls turning to whimpers. We pressed our advantage, driving them back with renewed vigor.
As night fell, we gathered our wounded and counted the dead. There were more no Demigod corpses pulled aside, but the monsters were indiscriminate in their hunt, more often going for defenseless mortals over the armed children of the gods. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the sudden understanding that for all that we were trained for this, we were few. Too horrendously few, and we were already a little less capable of saving anyone than when we came here. We were demigods, children of the gods, but at that moment, we were also just kids, far too young to carry the burden of the world.
But carry it we would. Because if not us, then who? Silent gods? Absent Hunters?
There was only one god in New York that didn't fight with Kronos, and for all that he fought against the hoard of monsters, he didn't fight with the Demigods.
It had to be us. There was simply no one else.
# The Siege of Olympus: Day 8
The eighth day dawned with a grim promise, the sky painted in hues of despair. We had barely a moment's respite before the next wave of Tartarus's minions bore down upon us. Lena and I stood shoulder to shoulder, our breaths coming in ragged gasps, our bodies aching from the relentless combat.
More cyclops, probably the bigger and more emotional brothers of the one from the day before if their annoying bellowing was anything to go by, emerged from the smog of war, their eyes fixed on us with murderous intent. I tightened my grip on my flail, feeling the familiar thrum of magic coursing through the weapon. Lena readied her daggers, sliding into a more energy-efficient stance that told me she was more tired than she looked. I slipped out a sigh in between my panting and rolled my shoulders. By Hecate, if I ever see another Cyclopse after this I'll lose it.
A cyclops roared (shocking), a sound that vibrated through the very stones street, and charged. I swung my flail, invoking the power of the Mist. Silver smoke billowed forth, shaping into a javelin that soared through the air and struck the cyclops squarely in the chest. It stumbled, the impact slowing its advance but not stopping it.
Lena leaped into action, her daggers flashing as she danced around the cyclops, striking at its legs, trying to bring it down. I joined her, my flail a blur as I targeted the creature's head, each strike coinciding with a prayer to Hecate for help, prayers I had almost deluded myself into thinking were being answered.
But then, tragedy struck. Zoe, the daughter of Nemesis and a fellow resident of the Hermies cabin, had been fighting nearby, her chakrams slicing through the air with deadly grace. She had set a trap for another cyclops, a patch of Hephestus approved ever stick glue (100% assured to molecularly bond two objects on your drachma back!). But in it's fury, the creature had simply ran over the trap (getting more and more asphalt stuck to its soles as it ran), and Zoe found herself in the path of its thunderous charge with nowhere to run.
I watched in horror as the cyclops barreled into her, the force of the impact sending her flying. She crashed to the ground with a sickening thud, her chakrams clattering beside her. The cyclops loomed over her, raising its mostly asphalt foot to deliver a crushing blow.
"No!" I screamed, my voice lost in the cacophony of battle. Time seemed to slow as I tried to work the mist to alter the monster's perceptions, have him strike the earth beside Zoe, and give her a chance to escape, my heart pounding in my chest. I was too late. Zoe screamed out a desperate "Ten Fold!" and the cyclops's foot came down, and Zoe was paste.
The beast turned its attention back to us, a guttural laugh rumbling from its throat. A horrified rage filled me, but burning fury eclipsed all fear. I raised my flail, the symbols of Hecate glowing with a fierce light.
"You won't take another," I snarled, and with all the force of my grief and anger, I moved to attack it, when suddenly a massive cement foot fell from the heavens and crushed the cyclops beneath it. For a moment I was stunned, but recalling both Zoe's parentage and her last words forced an unthinking laugh from me when I processed how she had avenged herself.
The fight wound down from there, with the monsters failing to do more than wound any of us.
We had won the skirmish, but the cost was high. Zoe, who had worked for fairness with her every action, who was one of the first to stand with the idea that we go to New York and evacuate not only our mortal families, but any mortals we could, was also the first of us to fall. We had lost one of our best, and the victory tasted like ash in our mouths.
The battle for New York raged on, but for a moment, we mourned. We mourned for Zoe, for the innocence we had lost, and for the uncertain future that lay ahead.
# The Siege of Olympus: Day 15
The fifteenth day broke with a heavy heart, the sky above Olympus a canvas of brooding storm clouds. The air was thick with the scent of impending doom, and the silence that hung over us was more terrifying than the cacophony of battle that had become our constant companion.
I found Marco, my cousin, the son of Hephaestus, checking the straps on his armor, his war hammer resting against his shoulder. He looked up and gave me a grim smile. "Ready to take another bite out of the big apple, Felix?" he joked, though the weariness in his eyes betrayed his jovial tone.
I punched him on the shoulder, feeling the solid weight of his armor I had stupidly forgotten he was wearing and lightly hurting my hand in the process (ouch!). "Let's send those bastards home!" I replied, trying to infuse some confidence into my voice even as I shook the pain out of my hand.
We took our positions at the front lines, the familiar weight of my flail a reassuring presence in my hand. Lena, the daughter of Hermes, was stationed somewhere in the backlines, out of my sight. Not far from us, another group of Half Bloods were working to evacuate some mortals, including Marco's own family, from an apartment building. Our job was to hold the line and make sure they didn't have to worry about monsters from this direction, their job was to ensure we didn't have to do our job for too long.
It's a great system when it works, but there was really only so much we could do here. The more time we spent above ground directly increased the number of monsters that broke off from attacking Olympus or feasting on the mortals in favor of trying for some sweet, sweet demigod blood.
The enemy came at us like a flood from three directions, a mass of fur, feathers, and scales, seeking to overwhelm us with savagery and numbers, just as they had every time before.
Marco was already in the thick of it, swinging his war hammer like he was born with it in his hand—which, knowing our godly parents, might not be too far from the truth, every swing sent at least one ploom of bronze dust into the air and the monsters seemed tourn from trying to pile onto him for vengeance or scurrying away from him out of fear. I was doing my best to keep up, my flail leaving trails of silver smoke as I wove spells into existence, ticking Harpies into dive-bombing their own allies, and reminding monsters why humans made helmets as every swing of my flail ended with a satisfying Bonk and some Bronze dust for my trouble.
Then, as if the universe decided we weren't having enough fun fighting for our lives, the ground beneath an old apartment complex began to shake. Before we could say 'Mother, why?,' a drakon the size of a subway train burst out, its scales shimmering like a disco ball from Hades. The building groaned, clearly unhappy about being used as a monster jack-in-the-box.
The drakon roared, and I swear I felt my hair stand on end—not a great look for me. It charged, barreling through the battlefield and turning our already messy fight into a full-blown disaster. We were already dealing with a flight of harpies, a pack of hellhounds, and a squad of Dracaenae, let's just add a Drakon in as well, because why not?
Marco caught my eye, and I could see the gears turning in his head. He was always the one to jump into the forge first, so to speak. "Fallback!" he yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Get to safety!"
I wanted to argue, to tell him he was being an idiot, but the look on his face stopped me. He was serious, and he was scared—not for himself, but for everyone else. With a heavy heart, I started moving away with the others, trusting Marco to do whatever crazy thing he had planned.
With a battle cry that would've made both Pan and Aries proud, Marco swung his hammer at the building's last standing support. The cracks shot through the structure like the lightning that was even now shooting through the sky, and with a rumble that I felt in my bones, the building came crashing down. The drakon and the rest of the monsters were buried under a mountain of rubble and dust.
But so was Marco.
The dust settled, and for a moment I thought the silence that followed was the worst sound I'd ever heard. Marco had saved us, saved his family, but the cost was too high. He was another hero, the kind that didn't get a shroud or a pure. He was the kind that just did what he could while he could do it. He was the kind like Zoe.
Looking at that rubble a part of me realized that the deaths so far hadn't just been flooks, they were the natural results of our lives and actions, and there were going to be more of them, probably before we made camp that night. Not long after that realization, Marco's mother, being among the last of the mortals to leave the building we were evacuating, had a lovely view of her son sacrificing himself for others (because of course she did, fucking fates.) and she promptly let loose what was actually the worst sound I ever heard.
# The Siege of Olympus: Day 29 - Helios Takes the Wheel
8:00 pm
Day 29 of our "We're Not Dead Yet" tour started with a sky so gloomy it made Eeyore look like a motivational speaker. The night of day that makes you wish you'd stayed in bed—if, you know, your bed wasn't a pile of rubble and your blanket wasn't consistently getting torn to make bandages for wounds that our dwindling supply of Nector and Abrosia couldn't heal.
The air was buzzing, and not in the "I just had six cups of coffee" kind of way, but more like "the big bad sun god is coming to fry us like eggs" kind of way. Word on the wind was that Helios, the original sun chariot driver, had been ordered to leave his retirement and to turn us into demigod toast. And let me tell you, the thought of facing a god who used to light up the whole world every morning was about as comforting as a hug from a Python.
Lena and I were on monster watch at Central Park, which had gone from "place to feed the pigeons" to "place for the Hermes cabin and friends to fend off the legions of darkness" real quick. The other demigods were doing their best warrior impressions, but you could tell everyone was thinking how were were probably going to die before we finished the evacuation. Night had fallen hours ago, and just as Lena and I were commiserating about having been worried for nothing, the night turned to day.
Then, out of nowhere, the earth started dancing the cupid shuffle. In the distance, there he was—Helios, looking like part of the sun has just fallen into the earth so it could make terrible, violent love with our slowly searing irises. The guy was glowing so bright, I bet he could be seen from the moon.
"Brace yourselves!" Someone yelled, but honestly, while well intended, it seemed like telling a squirrel to brace itself for an oncoming truck.
Helios let out a roar that could've woken up Hypnos himself (Good, maybe the fucker will come and help us!), and he charged at us like we were the last Black Friday sale on earth. The clash was epic—like, special effects budget through the roof epic. We had swords clashing, spells flying, and one very angry sun god turning the battlefield into his personal barbecue pit.
But then, something amazing happened. One of our brainiacs, a child of Athena, must've had a serious lightbulb moment. They woke up the statues around New York, and suddenly we had an army of marble and bronze buddies joining the party. These stony soldiers started helping with the evacuation, throwing punches like they were auditioning for Rocky.
The statues of New York had come to life, and let me tell you, it was like watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, if the balloons were armed and really ticked off. They were throwing punches, swinging lampposts, and doing a pretty good job at keeping the monsters at bay while the rest of us worked on getting the mortals to safety.
In the midst of the chaos, Chloe, the daughter of Nemesis, found herself face-to-face with Helios. It was the ultimate showdown, a battle of vengeance versus the sun itself. Chloe's skin burned from being too close to the Titan of the sun, but she fought with a ferocity that matched his own, each strike ringing with a desire for vengeance against Kronos and his forces. With the name "Zoe" as her war cry for every strike, she took her revenge on the Sun. For a moment, just a heartbeat really, it looked like Chloe might pull off the impossible. But fate, as it often does, had other plans. Her spear snapped like a twig on his sheild, and Helios, with all the compassion of a beast, struck her down. Chloe's last words were a curse, the kind that would have made her sister proud. "Repaid tenfold," she spat, and then she was gone, a hero to the end.
With Chloe's fall, our steady withdrawal turned into a full-on sprint. The statues were doing their best Rocky impressions, but we were outnumbered, outflanked, and out of options. That's when Nora stepped up to the plate.
Nora, daughter of Eris, was chaos personified. She laughed in the face of danger—literally. Her cackle echoed over the battlefield as she danced through the enemy, leaving confusion in her wake. But as we fled, Nora stayed behind, facing down Helios and his minions. She fought like a whirlwind, a blur of blades, and bronze dust and mischief, until the very chaos she loved swallowed her whole. Struck by an erent Lighting bolt, She went down grinning, as if in dying she'd told the grandest joke in the world.
Then there was Isabel, our ray of hope in a world gone dark. Daughter of Hebe, she had healing hands that could make the worst boo-boo feel like a scratch. But without ambrosia, the mortals were out of luck. So Isabel did what any self-respecting demigod would—she took one for the team. She ate the ambrosia herself, channeling its power to heal many who would have otherwise died, but it was too much, too fast. She burned out, a candle snuffed by the very wind it sought to warm.
The retreat continued, the statues holding the line as we fell back. The losses were heavy, the pain of each fallen Hero a weight upon our hearts. But we carried on, because that's what heroes do. We fight, we fall, we get up again. For Zoe, for Marco, Chloe, for Isabel, for Nora—for all those who had given everything so we might lose less, we would keep fighting.
As we clashed with Helios's forces, I thought about how this was the kind of story that would make Homer toss his lyre into the sea. Helios was tough, sure, but we were better than just Olympian material, and we don't roll over for anyone.
The siege raged on, each of us fighting with the kind of gusto that would have Hercules lining up for autographs. While we ran, we found ourselves linking up with the other groups of campers, who were usually also being changed by monsters of their own, but we seem to have been the only group unlucky enough to get a Titan. The common theme so far was that everyone was standing as tall as we could manage with tired muscles and aching bones, for our families, for Earth, and for every campfire song yet to be sung. We were the day's last stand, the final line between dusk and the darkness.
**Day 30: The Final Stand**
12:00 am
The last day of the siege wasn't the stuff of victory parades or triumphant cheers. It was the kind of day that would make even the most optimistic oracle throw in the towel. Grace, daughter of Demiter, who could make a dandelion feel like a redwood, summoned the last of her energy to conjure a barrier of thorns. It sprang up like a porcupine on a bad hair day, giving us just enough time to catch our breath and not much else.
That's when we noticed it—the lightning from Zeus's Master Bolt, which had been our own personal rave party in the sky, was fizzling out. The once-electric blue began to fade, and the clouds started to look more like dirty laundry than divine wrath. Olympus was on the dead, and if we didn't finish up and flee the city with whoever we had saved already, we'd be going down with the ship.
We huddled up, all of the demigods left in the city, with more scars than a scrimshaw map of the underworld, and cooked up a plan. We'd make a break for the bridges, using the Mist like a magician's cloak to vanish into thin air. Leaving the city and the people in it to Kronos's nonexistent mercy felt like signing the death warrant for everyone there, but we had already done everything we could.
We ran from the city with our tails between our legs, those who could use the mist to cloak our movements did so while all the Titans and most of the monsters rushed the Empire State Building, I couldn't help but sneak a peek over my shoulder. The city, my city, was now just a giant feeding pen for monsters. I sent up a silent, mostly ironic, Hail Mary—or in my case, a Hail Hecate—hoping my mom had her ear to the ground.
We could have won if you had tried. All of this could have been avoided. Will you look back on this month and regret your choice someday in the future? Do you regret it already?"
The only reply was the echo of our own footsteps, a staccato beat to the rhythm of retreat.
So there we were, hoofing it with everything we could carry, while behind us, some of the kindest, bravest souls I've ever known stayed back to buy us time. Another few dozen heroes, another few dozen shrouds to burn with no bodies, standing their ground so the wounded, the mortals, and the ankle-biters could make a run for it. I half wish I had stayed with them, but they insisted that the evacuees needed to be guarded by somebody, if those people happened to be a few years younger than everyone who signed on as a distraction that was simply a coincidence.
Something died in us when we made it out of the city, and not long after that, the city itself along with the Heroes inside of it died as well, when Kronos announced his victory over the West by leveling the city to the ground. I suppose I'm not too surprised that he had an "everything must go" kinda mentality when it came to sweeping aside the old regime. I suppose that means it's only a matter of time before he goes for the rest of the gods, and then the Demigods, and then the Mortals.
I suppose that means we lost the battle.
I suppose that means he thinks he won the War.
I suppose we will just have to prove him wrong.
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Thanks! I loved It.
Age of Confusion II: Character Creation
- Location
- The Colored Room
- Pronouns
- TheOne
The Old World is dying, you know that. Everyone and every thing can feel the passing of the age in their bones.
Now is a time of monsters and transition, dis-ease and trembling. Morbid symptoms abound and nothing is quite right, not even the air.
There is nothing that cannot be questioned now, that is certain. So you must gather yourself before the coming storm. The world is not ready for what is to come and the Gods have abandoned us all to it.
What cowardice inspired them to abandon their children, you do not know and you doubt you will receive answers. You stand here, mulling over your life, sorting out the who's and the why's of it because you believe knowledge of self will help you move forward.
That's the only option you really have.
So, you ask yourself...
What Is Your name?
[X] Cyrus Masters
Your Gender?
[X] Male
How Old Are You?
[X] Fifteen
What are you?
[] A Mortal
[] A Mage
-[] Specialization And/Or Patron If You have One
[X]A Child of a Divine
-[X] Elpis
[] Write In (Any being distinct from the above is permissible)
What Drives You?
[] The Will to Survive
[] The Will to Power
[] The Will to Love
[] The Will to Endure
[] The Will to Understand
[X] The Will to Live
What Were You Loyal To?
[X] Camp Half Blood
[] Camp Jupiter
[] Mount Othrys
[] Mount Olympus
[] The House of Life
[] To Yourself
[] Write In
And now that you think of it... What Year is this?
[] 2012
[X] 2009
[] 1991
[] 1968
[] Write In
A/N: All Votes are by plan and voting is open for either 48 Hours or Consensus. And as always, I reserve the right to extend this deadline.
And of course, please field questions.
The character stats are going to be a loose CK2-esque system. It makes it easier to structure actions and rolls. All rolls will be based on a D100, characters' raw stats, and any traits, general maluses, or status effects.
There's a lot of freedom with this vote. Please notice it, even if you don't use it.
-BTW, I have read the omakes, I just want to explain the rewards system before I acknowledge them. They make my day, truly.
Now is a time of monsters and transition, dis-ease and trembling. Morbid symptoms abound and nothing is quite right, not even the air.
There is nothing that cannot be questioned now, that is certain. So you must gather yourself before the coming storm. The world is not ready for what is to come and the Gods have abandoned us all to it.
What cowardice inspired them to abandon their children, you do not know and you doubt you will receive answers. You stand here, mulling over your life, sorting out the who's and the why's of it because you believe knowledge of self will help you move forward.
That's the only option you really have.
So, you ask yourself...
Is This Your First Life?
-[X] Of Course
-[] No
-[X] Of Course
-
What Is Your name?
[X] Cyrus Masters
Your Gender?
[X] Male
How Old Are You?
[X] Fifteen
What are you?
[] A Mage
-[] Specialization And/Or Patron If You have One
[X]A Child of a Divine
-[X] Elpis
What Drives You?
[] The Will to Power
[] The Will to Love
[] The Will to Endure
[] The Will to Understand
[X] The Will to Live
What Were You Loyal To?
[X] Camp Half Blood
[] Mount Othrys
[] Mount Olympus
[] The House of Life
[] To Yourself
[] Write In
And now that you think of it... What Year is this?
[] 2012
[X] 2009
[] 1968
[] Write In
A/N: All Votes are by plan and voting is open for either 48 Hours or Consensus. And as always, I reserve the right to extend this deadline.
And of course, please field questions.
The character stats are going to be a loose CK2-esque system. It makes it easier to structure actions and rolls. All rolls will be based on a D100, characters' raw stats, and any traits, general maluses, or status effects.
There's a lot of freedom with this vote. Please notice it, even if you don't use it.
-BTW, I have read the omakes, I just want to explain the rewards system before I acknowledge them. They make my day, truly.
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Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
[X]Plan: We Have Hope, It's All We Have Left:
-[X]Yes
-[X]Cyrus Masters
-[X]Male
-[X]15
-[X]A Child of a Divine
--[X]Elpis
-[X] The Will to Live
-[X] Camp Half Blood
-[X]2009
@Tjakari can I post an image here as well for what our MC can look like?
I decided to make it his first life because honestly, making him a reincarnation seems kinda cheap. Have it be his first life.
As for my reasonings for the vote: It's a Percy Jackson quest, might as well make the Divine option, and decided that, instead of the usual bullshit of major gods and goddesses, I decided to go for one of the lesser-known, but no less important ones for this world.
Elpis, Greek Goddess of Hope. No less fitting for a hero that will want to live, and probably save the world eventually.
Decided to make him a contemporary of Percy and company, just to see if we can save lives and stuff.
As for Loyalty: Camp Half Blood all the way. that book series was my childhood, and I will not give in to following something else.
-[X]Yes
-[X]Cyrus Masters
-[X]Male
-[X]15
-[X]A Child of a Divine
--[X]Elpis
-[X] The Will to Live
-[X] Camp Half Blood
-[X]2009
@Tjakari can I post an image here as well for what our MC can look like?
I decided to make it his first life because honestly, making him a reincarnation seems kinda cheap. Have it be his first life.
As for my reasonings for the vote: It's a Percy Jackson quest, might as well make the Divine option, and decided that, instead of the usual bullshit of major gods and goddesses, I decided to go for one of the lesser-known, but no less important ones for this world.
Elpis, Greek Goddess of Hope. No less fitting for a hero that will want to live, and probably save the world eventually.
Decided to make him a contemporary of Percy and company, just to see if we can save lives and stuff.
As for Loyalty: Camp Half Blood all the way. that book series was my childhood, and I will not give in to following something else.
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- Location
- The Colored Room
- Pronouns
- TheOne
Of course, I just didn't want it to be a requirement.
Wait let's make this like years before Percy by making this the Cold War period then we can make the canon characters exist somewhat