Post by hades on Mar 29, 2013 23:12:17 GMT -5
Hades
the basics
[/color] Hades
name ,,
nicknames ,,[/color] None
gender ,,[/color] Male
species ,,[/color] God
immortal parent ,,[/color] N/A
age ,,[/color] Immortal
time at camp ,,[/color] N/A
face claim ,,[/color] Rufus Sewell[/blockquote][/blockquote]
freeform!
I was the first of six children born to the mighty Kronos and Rhea, making me the eldest of all the Olympians. Though I spent my childhood in my father’s stomach, patience won out when Zeus freed us all, starting a war against the Titans. The Olympians won, claiming Mount Olympus as our home and locking away the Titans for eternity. As the eldest sibling, it was my birthright to rule Olympus, though my brothers did not entertain such an idea. Both wanted power, and so we split it. Poseidon took all the Earth’s waters with his trident, while Zeus with his lightning bolt took the world’s skies. I was left with the Underworld, where my new home would be, no longer welcome on Mount Olympus by my younger siblings, nor the rest of my kin.
For many years I lived below the Earth’s crust, ruling my kingdom with absolute authority. The humans on Earth like to paint me as the bad guy, the evil god, though I am neither. Of all the gods on Olympus, I am the most unbiased, the one who judges the fairest. It is my job to judge the souls that come to my kingdom, and choose for them an afterlife filled with peace, or one in the depths of Tartarus. I live a very busy life, as opposed to my kin, who get to spend their time doing as they please, while they neglect their duties.
The life of a god is a long one, and one that can become very lonely down in the Underworld. It was from this feeling that I ventured above ground only to spot a young woman, Persephone, in a field. In a rash action, I stole her from the Earth and brought her to my kingdom, to be my queen. Her mother, my stubborn sister Demeter, howled at me, demanding I return the girl at once. Unknown to her though, I had received the blessing of Zeus, the ruler of all gods, and Persephone’s father. When Demeter learned of his blessing, she struck the Earth barren of all crops and starved the humans until Zeus demanded I return her as well. By this time, I had won the heart of my queen and would not give her up altogether. Urging Persephone to eat the fruit from the Underworld, she ate six pomegranate seeds, which bound her to my kingdom for six months of the year. Every year, my wife returns home for six short months, taking her place beside me and sharing in my power as ruler of the Underworld.
When my wife is gone, I admit that I may not be the most loyal of all husbands. Though I am far removed from my brothers, I am not so different from them. I have strayed to the world of the living, stripped of my godly attire and donned the clothing of man, only to convince women to my bedside. Unlike my brothers though, I am not so guaranteed to father a child with any woman, mortal or immortal. As the God of the dead, it is just unnatural to bring life into the world, so most people just assume that I am sterile. It is not quite that drastic either, but my travels do result in much fewer children than other gods, so there Is something to the myth.
Speaking of power, I may have received the unwanted housing, but I did not receive useless powers. I control the souls of the Underworld, and can call upon them to fight beside me as I see fit. Along with my three-headed guard dog, and other hounds of Hell, I can amass full armies in mere moments. Armed with all the knowledge of their living lives, the soldiers are always the best option when going to battle above ground. I can condemn the living immediately to the Underworld, though I choose to allow Fate to make the decision for me. In all my years, I have only tried to kill a human one time.
I can control all manner of Earth and stone, bending it to my will as I see fit. I also have control over precious gems, being that I am also the god of wealth. I control all shadows, often using them as my transportation, or to bring someone to my palace. With my will, I can create and manipulate hellfire, liquifying anything it touches. I also cause terror in the hearts of all beings, able to kill them simply from freight.
Often locked below Earth in my kingdom, I have built a large palace to resemble the one that my brothers and sisters live in. Hidden from the world, only those I deem worthy of my presence can find my residence, all others simply walk on forever, never truly going anywhere. Even the gods themselves cannot find me, as I have restricted them from even entering the Underworld. However, Hermes is granted special permission; so long as he does not abuse this privilege I have given him. Though my time is often demanded in the Underworld, I do have a habit of venturing above ground. Should you see me, I would recommend you stay focused on your own business. I almost always have good reason to be above ground, and many times it is ‘business’ for me.
about you!
[/color] Lish
alias ,,
experience ,,[/color] ~12 Years
roleplay sample ,,[/color] A dark corner held a cloaked figure, shrouded in obscurity with two impossibly green eyes watching from beneath the fabric. It had been like this for nearly five hours now, Mordred sitting by himself, never moving. He had ordered a drink, and once in a while the tavern girls would glide by and replace his ale, though he never spoke a word to them. Their demeanor showed fear, as they hesitated each time they came near the table, unsure of the new patron in their midst.
Two tables over, knights and landowners alike partook in a game of dice, betting on the cubes of bone as they thudded against the thick wooden table. At each win or loss, the men let out a holler, loud enough to disturb the entire tavern. Clearly, it was a normal reaction within the walls.
Mordred had found the tavern by accident, walking through Camelot for the first time in nearly ten years, the young man had slipped into every alley, passed through every shadow, taking in the kingdom once again. It had not changed, not at all in ten years. The merchants still stood in the same places they had been the day Mordred was chased through the market, the butcher lived in the same room in the back of his shop, as evidenced by the laundry basket his wife held when leaving the store. In Camelot, it almost seemed as though time stood still, like it was not allowed to exist within the walls.
It did not take long to find himself in the more lavish part of the kingdom, where his worn boots and dirtied trousers weren't as accepted as down in the lower city. The green cloak, with it's frayed edges on the bottom where it dragged along the dirt, told the city's elite all they wanted to know. When Mordred happened upon the inn, the keeper seemed to be of the same mind, until Mordred produced the bag of golden coins. Stolen of course, picked from the very pockets of those who cast such harsh judgement on the bandit.
A room rented for the night, Mordred whittled away the evening watching the local patrons, studying them, attempting to learn how to blend in. Camelot was nothing like the Druid camps, or even the Bandit camps. So unaware of all the dangers around them, those in Camelot seemed to live blissful lives, without thought to what might happen to them. That is, until something goes wrong.
The shriek was fast and terrifying, as the woman from behind the bar looked on one of the patrons with fear. What he had done, Mordred didn't notice, his attention focused on the men gambling. To Mordred, it didn't really matter. Pushing the chair back, Mordred's legs crossed the gap without issue, his hand drawing the long blade in the process, swiping it through the air, stopping as it touched skin. The soft skin of a human, blood dripped along the polished steel as Mordred's hand held steady, the tip of the sword touching the offender's neck. Most watched with trepidation, while others waited for the fight to really start, hanging on each second. "You will behave yourself." From the mouth of a very young man, Mordred's tone held no hint of negotiation.
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