send 🧐 for your muse to get to know my muse better
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“I got this one –” Meg’s finger trailed up the inside of side of her ankle, where a short, but deep scar was raised – “as a child. My younger sister, Chryssa, was quite the troublemaker. Always daring me into all sorts of… unladylike shenanigans, and I could never pass up a challenge. One day, we decided to go deeper into the woods surrounding our home, because we wanted to hunt, armed with nothing but homemade wooden swords of all things. What we ran into was a wild boar.” A small, nostalgic smile curled up her lips, as her thumb stroked the scar. “It couldn’t have been very big, but it seemed huge to us. We ran, of course. All of courage was gone. We dropped out weapons and climbed up a tree, but the boar would not live us alone. By the time it did, we were both so terrified we still didn’t come down. We stayed there for hours, until we decided to come down. My dress must have snagged on something, and I fell several meters, hitting about every branch on my way down. By the time we got home, the moon had risen, and we were covered in scrapes and scratches and bruises.” Meg shook her head, fondly. “Years later, I would slaughter the Nemeian lion. I like to think Chryssa would have been proud.”
mentee. someone meg can tutor in, be it magic, regular training, sword-fighting, etc. [0/??]
hunters/former hunters, that hunted alongside meg. [0/??]
the one who got away. the hunter of artemis that meg fell in love with, and, for that reason, left the hunters. if the feeling is reciprocated, if you wanna jump straight into a established relationship, we can discuss it! [0/1]
life debt. someone who meg saved when they were younger, ~14 or below. meg saved their life, and now they’re of a closer age at the camp together. [0/??]
friend with benefits. the fact meg spent the last hundreds of years, meg only had the opportunity to explore her sexuality now. this would be someone she’s been making out with/banging. can be of any gender, the only restriction being that they be 18 or over, not from the cabin of Hecate, and single/in an open relationship. NOTE: we absolutely DON’T have to write out explicit scenes! while i am comfortable with them, it is 100% NOT a requirement. [0/1]
“ do you know how to disassemble a bomb ? well, a landmine, to be more specific. i thought we got rid of them all, but i found one of sherman’s leftovers. if i see him any time soon, i’m gonna choke him. ”
“You don’t?” It came out before Meg could help it. A beat too late did she realize that assembling and disassembling bombs was not part of the camp curriculum. What the hell was Chiron teaching these kids?
“That, dearest sister, is why you should never be allowed to speak to the living.” said an annoying, all too familiar voice, reverberating inside of her skull rather than coming in through her hearing aids. The ghost of her dead brother, Alexios, was perched up on top of the Ares cabin, like a weirdo. Meg pointedly ignored him. She hadn’t summoned his ghost, which meant that, if she responded, she’d just look like the crazy lady who spoke to thin air.
“Why don’t you show me those landmines?” she suggested, before she put her foot in her mouth any further. “If I cannot disassemble or deactivate them, I will be able to cast a shield around them, at least.”
Adam had been sitting outside of the Big House for almost an hour, hearing brief conversations and arguments from both Mr. D and Chiron. Being the ‘not great at conflict’ person that he was, he stayed put. Chiron had called him over there, probably to help repair something, but he had yet to figure out what it was, because he was too busy waiting. Glancing over at the other waiting demigod, he gave them a little smile. “Chiron call you too, or…?” he trailed off, amidst the shouting.
Meg was no stranger to fights, or shouting; what she couldn’t ignore, though, was the lack of punctuality. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes were tolerable. An hour? Megaira had better things to do with her time than impatiently tap her foot and check her watch while she waited for Chiron and Dionysius to get their shit together. Of course, they never would, if their… everything was any indication.
(Okay, she didn’t technically have anything on her schedule, but she could find shit to do in under five minutes. Like training.)
The boy who’d been sitting by the steps almost as long as she’d been standing around talked to her – or, she thought he did. His mouth moved, they were making eye contact, he seemed to be waiting an answer.
“I –” she started, stopped, grunted in annoyance. She dug around her pockets, until she revealed her pair of hearing aids, now crushed, wirings stick out. “You’ll have to say that again, I couldn’t hear you.”
There was a half second where Zeke just lay there, and thought ‘yeah this is fitting.’Cause when an avalanche you caused descends upon your shoulders its more of a mood moment than an actual series of events. But when he finally gathered his bearings he moved to stand, he was no longer alone, a voice asking if he was alright, and magically moving the ailments. Sure he was a demigod but sometimes it still took a grace period to get used to that.
“ only my pride. “ He joked, pushing himself up and off the floor to survey the damage. Yikes. When he’d volunteered to help, he didn’t really consider that his natural affinity for tripping on air might come into play. He realized after a few seconds had passed that he was being entirely rude while caught up in his embarrassment spiral.
“ Thank you, by the way. Clearly my new organization plan needs—– “ He looks around at the splatter of miscellaneous goods strewn around them, “—–work. “
Once the demigod was up, Meg carefully lowered the items onto the floor. He claimed to be okay, and didn’t seem to be lying. A careless wave of her hand dismissed his gratitude – there was an opportunity to help someone, so she did. “Just be glad you were lucky. Had one of those objects been heavier, it could have cracked open your skull.” Those were nasty-looking deaths, with definitely no chance of an open casket. Meg would know: she’d killed plenty of people and monsters that way.
At the mention of his “organization skills”, as he put it, Meg gazed around the room, unimpressed, and, yeah, a little judge-y. Still, never let it be said she wasn’t a kind soul: “I get the feeling a good chunk of this mess wasn’t your doing – which is why we’re both here in the first place.” Meeting his eyes again, Meg cocked an eyebrow. No one wanted to organize the storage shed for fun; then again, no one who would be forced to do this would look so… cheery. Ah, maybe Megaira was just old.
God, was she old.
“Are you here as punishment as well?” she asked, legitimately curious.
okay so this isn’t a regular announcement but i realized i’d never made a task graphic and photoshop is currently out of commission so … this is what we’re working with !! anyway, i’ve made an interaction-y ask meme for our members to send to each other !! i guess it’s not really a task, but i don’t know what else to call it. we’re thriving here. as always, it’s not mandatory but highly recommended. reblog this if you want your fellow members to send you memes, and please send to everyone who has reblogged it !!
Ezekiel Hernandez was not a product of the god of order. In fact, he’s not even sure if there is a god delegated specifically to keeping things tidy because, no offence dad & extended family, but Olympus is constantly in disarray. Family issues aside, zeke believes that some of that good ole fashioned greek disaster-ness translated directly into his dna, and while he looks into the storage closest for the camp store, he can’t help but let a little pessimism slide into his thoughts. He’d volunteered at the camp store to be nice, and possibly to get his mind off some very pertinent & confusing current issues but being delegated the impossible role of organizing the storage shed felt like a punishment rather than a reward. If he didn’t physically lose himself in here, then maybe he’d just lose his mind.
Regardless, he’d signed up for this, so he pushed back his imaginary sleeves and figured he’d start with the thing collecting so much dust it looked like it belonged in Mr. D’s ‘non-alcoholic liquors cabinet’. It was sticking out and just far up enough that Zeke had to stand on his tippy toes, like it was taunting him. He had one hand on the stack of miscellaneous items on top of the book, and one hand on the book itself, and when he finally gave one great pull, his foot slid slightly and suddenly he was losing his grip. He fell backwards, and due to the fact the gods clearly hated him, so did all the contents of the shelf. He landed on his back, with at least twenty items covering his body from head to foot, and while he didn’t feel any major injuries, he had to wonder if the gods were watching this because their cable was out.
“ Ouch. ” He said simply, and perhaps a bit sarcastically as if to only emphasize his point to the gods. He shuffled and things fell to the floor comically, and Zeke had half a mind to renounce the greek way right then and there. “ Maybe a warning next time, dad ? “ he spoke into the empty air. But then again, nothing about camp half blood was ever empty, and Zeke picked up the sound of feet just before someone entered the storage shack to what must have looked like Zeke throwing a one man rave.
This was far from the first time Megaira had been banned from training her fellow demigods. Something about her being too strict or too violent or too demanding, or whatever the bullshit criticism from the time was. This one, however, she had to admit, was on her. This is just practice, Chiron had told her, exasperated, you didn’t have to injure his knee so badly. Everything would have probably ended with a one-day banishment from training, but Meg had to open her mouth and, rising her voice above the irritating weeping of her adversary, accuse Chiron of coddling these half-bloods, monsters will not spare you over a few pathetic tears. Stand and fight!
So. Week-long banishment plus storage room cleaning it was. Meg fumed her way to the storage, people (smartly) getting out of her way. It was… it was rough, truth be told. She’d been raised in a time period where nobody was spared, not pregnant women nor children, not from suffering nor from death. Then the Hunters came, and Meg had always stood out like a sore thumb among them, too rough, too savage for the kindness from their leader. Except in battle. There, Meg thrived, fighting for her life day in, day out. Her stay at the Amazons wasn’t doing anything to soothe any of her violent instincts.
And the campers were grinding on her battle-hardened nerves.
Still mentally cussing Chiron out, she threw open the door to the storage, only to stop in her tracks. Her eyes darted around the small room, searching for something that could have caused this mess, until she put the pieces together: dumbass demigod fell.
“Are you injured?” she asked, clipped and short, striding to the fallen guy. There was no blood, no wailing, no pained gasping. Everything looked in order, but it was polite to ask, anyway, and to, with a flick of her hand, levitate the objects from above him, so they hovered in the air, out of the way.
body type: muscular, but lean. definitely has the best abs in the camp.
hair: red, wavy, a few inches past her shoulders.
eye color: hazel
DETAILS
personality: Despite being quick to anger and impatient, Meg is surprisingly cool-headed and a true tactician, the right person to have around when the pressure is on. She’s definitely an adrenaline junkie, someone who loves a challenge and high stakes. It’s no wonder she rarely stays at the Camp for long, always leaving to chase one monster or another, going away for a mission with a less than ideal probability of her coming back in one piece. She’s battle-hardened in more than one way, all the things she’s seen and everything that she’s lost definitely taking its toll. For that reason, she’s closed off, someone who does their best not to get attached, who’s spent centuries telling herself, don’t get close, don’t get close, don’t get close, they’ll wither and die and you’ll remain like this. Even though she’s no longer immortal, she still holds on to that mentality, building up wall after wall. This is not to say she’s cruel, or uncaring – on the contrary, she cares so much for the people around her, but she knows how to keep herself at a distance, and has gotten used to loss.
pet: Meg has a semi-dead cat who’s younger than her by only a few years. She accidentally brought her back from the brink of death when she was still young and inexperienced. Her name is Moira, she’s a bit weird and has no pulse, but does all cat-like things and is always following Meg around.
disability: Meg was deafened while hunting in the late 1800s. She wears hearing aids now, but she’ll often forget them or get fed up with listening to people. Sometimes, she uses a speak-to-text spell that creates hovering words in the air above the speaker’s head for her to read. However, she does not need any of those when speaking to the dead.
biography:
1. origins: Meg was born in Greece, in the early 1300s. As a daughter of Hecate, Meg was born with a natural aptitude for magic, but, at a young age, poor control over it. The time period was hardly welcoming of magic, and so, Meg and her family had to keep her abilities hidden. It worked, somewhat, even when monsters attacked. However, as she grew up and her magic increased in power, it was only a matter of time before things went south. One day, at age 10, Meg threw a fit – over something childish that she cannot remember to this day, and next thing she knew, her home was up in flames. The only reason she survived, she suspects, was magic and a whole lot of luck. Her family wasn’t as lucky. The neighbors gossiped about an unnatural fire, and the way that Meg’s wailing caused all the plants around her to dry up. A neighbor took her in that day, but, at night, she heard him whispering with his wife about how odd she was. She knew, then, that she was in danger.
2. camp life: Hecate appeared to her in a dream, telling her she had powers beyond her comprehension, that she needed to believe in herself, and that there was somewhere safe for people like her. In the middle of the night, Meg packed her few belongings, and ran. Hecate made few appearances during Meg’s lonesome journey to Camp Half-Blood, but she did give her daughter a book of spells and a pair of Stygian iron daggers, which was more than enough. By the time Meg arrived at the camp, she could hold her own and had fended off monsters by herself – mostly. Turns out, she had inherited her mother’s magical abilities, mild umbrakinesis and a particularly strong necromancy. Often, she sees and talks with the ghosts of her parents and siblings.
3. the hunters of artemis: When she was 17, the Hunters of Artemis stopped by the Camp, asking for help. Meg was among the campers who helped him, and ended up bonding with the goddess and her hunters alike. They offered her a position among them, and Meg accepted. They were together for centuries, until Meg developed feelings for a fellow hunter. For some time, she tried to deny it, but eventually came to terms that she could not ignore her feelings, and had to come clean to Artemis. She did, and because she had not broken her vow, she left the Hunters with no bad blood between them, and was even allowed to keep her bow. She joined the Amazons, and has been with them ever since.
4. current events: Meg cannot stay out of trouble. She fought in the two great wars, and has been staying at the Camp to help train the younger demigods (especially her siblings) and help things run smoothly. She’s still getting used to her new reality as a mortal, but things are going better than expected.
