Yet again the demigod world is in imminent peril, and it’s up to the warriors of Rome’s Twelfth Legion to band together and answer the call to arms! But can they truly succeed when their enemy lies within? As the Dominus threatens each and everyone’s safety, it appears that no one is safe. Now— only one question remains. Will our heroes fall to fire? Or rise to glory? Fire and Glory is a Percy Jackson / Heroes of Olympus based roleplay with a focus on chemistry, community and diversity within the roleplay. Open since: October 2nd, 2017 mobile navigation
This message is very difficult to write and even more difficult to post. Over the last few weeks and months the admins have noticed a drop in activity and interest generally in the role play. This includes us as an admin team and with Dylan leaving the roleplay the remaining admins took the time to really think about what we thought was best for the group and for us.
In doing so we realised that we had reached a bit of a block in progressing the group and although we still have lots of story to tell, we also feel that the reception of that story is just as important. As a direct result of that we have decided that now is the best time to shut the RP down.
This role play has been running for a long time (including all the versions of the group almost for five years) and the admin team has loved every moment of it. We’ve had a great run and we don’t necessarily think that this is definitely the end of the group, but for the moment at least we have made the decision to take a break from everything and explore other avenues. All current and former members of the roleplay have made this a magical experience and we are truly blessed to have received all the time and attention that so many of you have invested in us. You’ve all got us on discord and we would love to share our personal blogs with our members so we can stay in touch.
The following characters have not been active in the last seven days, as such they have 48 hours to become active again before we post an unfollow. They have also received an activity strike Please keep in mind that one strike means you have another spare strike, and two means that the next strike received will result in an immediate unfollow upon receiving the strike:
@abbyhmorgan
@piper-mclvvn
@heydeathbreath
@thebolt-unbound
@the-best-brock-star
@spellbindingbeefcake
@fireandseaweed
We really don’t want to lose members or characters as we care about you all, so please become active again! If something’s wrong please get in contact with the main or talk to one of the mods so we can help you out ASAP! ♥ ♥ ♥
Assistants of Faunus is here to tend for your fluffy, scaly, feathery, or ethereal friend’s every need and whim! We tend not only to your pet’s general health, but they also provide baths, general guidance and any trinkets you might need to ensure your pet’s happiness. They have grooming, veterinarian and other pet services, for everything mortal and immortal. So even if you have a monstrous pet that needs a little help, the Assistants of Faunus are here to help.
Assistants of Faunus is also notorious for rescuing strays from the streets to then find a suitable home for them. They have an adoption home where they home stray animals.
WHO OWNS IT / RUNS IT:
Owned and run by Deborah Liao a legacy of Faunus. The Liao family have been running the Assistants of Faunus business for several generations and have quite the reputation.
Heritage: Son of Trivia, Legacy of Mercury, Bellona and Vulcan.
Headcanons:
Marcus Acardi has been practicing mist manipulation since he was young. He found out he had the ability when he had manipulated the mist to hide himself from his trainer when he was 6. Since then he’s learned how to hide objects and locations and reveal them too. He can create other illusions like making multiple of himself appear or even making an apparition of himself and speak through it, even if he is not in that physical space or location.
Marcus has learnt how to create runes that he paints onto his skin with herbs. They act as a magical form of strapping or pain killers. They also sometimes give him small perks like speed or stamina boost.
Marcus is an excellent archer and many considered him to be a legacy of Apollo as well. Being a legacy of Vulcan, he had the ability to easily enchant his arrows (and other weapons and armor) with spells.
Marcus Titus Acardi was born into riches. He is Senator Acardi’s eldest son and was born the heir to the family’s wealth. When Titus saw the baby boy on his bed one night, he did not only see a son to love and care for, but more importantly, he saw a successor.
Marcus grew up under heavy military training and as soon as he turned 13, he was enrolled into the Legion. As a child, Marcus had nobody to play with and felt extremely lonely. This lead to him exploring his own powers and being able to truly get to know himself. It wasn’t until another child’s cries filled the Villa that he found a companion to spend his time with. His younger brother, Valerian. The two would cause mischief for the Villa staff, casting spells and illusions. They would later suffer the wrath of their father when he returned home at night. It wasn’t until Marcus joined the legion that Valerian told him that he felt as if he did not belong in his own body. Marcus accepted what his sibling told him with love and started calling them Valeria as requested. When it was Valeria’s turn to join the legion, Marcus helped her leave New Rome and join Artemis’s hunters. This day was one of rejoicing and sadness. His sister had finally found a place where she belonged, but he had also lost the only person that helped him cope with their fathers continuous commands and every growing expectations to pick up the Acardi mantel.
Titus blamed Marcus for Valeria leaving and Marcus blamed Titus. He threw himself into his training, no longer having his best friend and sister around. He learnt how to emotionally disconnect himself, through spells and through mental training. He was to become the war machine his father wanted. However, no matter what Marcus did, Titus was never pleased. A rift grew between them that was only strengthened when Titus married Eileen and they had a son, Gregorio.
Marcus worked hard to impress the Senate and Praetor in hoped of one day becoming Centurion, but the position was given to Jax Karavadra during the second demigod war with the Greeks. Titus was outraged by his son’s failure and classified Marcus as a disgrace and made Gregorio the heir to the Acardi fortune. Marcus did not hold this against his Centurions or the Karavadra family. Since then Marcus has distanced himself from his father and family and only appeared for social functions, trying to take advantage of the power and connections he still had.
The cult of Romulus had somehow heard of his specialized control over the mist and asked him to join their ranks just after the war. Hesitant at first, he joined the cult and has since then helped hide their locations and secret entrances from the eyes of demigods. He also acts as a spy for the Cult due to his ability to hide himself with the mist. Marcus likes the power that the cult gives him, however, he started craving more. He’d participate in the fights that happened in the pits, training himself and making a name for himself. Obsessed with power and a new vision for New Rome, he climbed as many ladders as he could and waits for the right moment to finally have more power than his father and overthrow Titus Acardi, one way or another.
Marcus currently stays in the 1st Cohort barracks and since the war, has been promoted to Centurion and works alongside Cat.
As per tradition, each December, the weather of New Rome changes. Boreas and Khione come together, blowing freezing winds in from the north. The winds allow a blanket of snow to fall over the city. The cobblestones ice up, tree branches turn silver and the lake freezes over. The snow as usual brings about a time of happiness as festivities fill the air!
The civil war has not stopped the tradition held by the God’s and there are now tons of winter activities for the citizens of New Rome to take part in! Although festivities fill the air and the shops are a bustle with Christmas shopping, many families are still affected by the war and don’t have homes yet. But once again the city bands together. Shelters are hastily erected for the homeless. Soup kitchens fill up. Those fortunate enough to have homes open their doors to families, friends and neighbours who weren’t as lucky. The entire city comes together to keep the city warm. To keep everyone safe.
Welcome to our Holiday Season event! Every year we like to do a holiday weather change to get everyone into the spirit. This weather event will last for the whole of December and may run into January, we’ll decide as things go along.
We encourage everyone to enjoy this event to the fullest! For example; your characters can do stuff like;
Skating on the lake.
Snowball fights.
Holiday shopping in a traditonal Roman Market.
Drinking hot chocolate with friends!
This can of course be done through Chatzys/docs, self-paras and/or threads on the dash! Although it’s normally a time of festivity and cheer, New Rome is still experiencing the effects of the war. If your character is inclined to do so, we’d love to see how they help those in need this holiday season!
As always, if you’ve got any questions, requests or even suggestions then we’d love to hear them.
As the snow blows in and a chill runs up your spine, you stop and shiver, instincts telling you that there’s a monster nearby. However, it’s now the first of December and you know that’s not the case. Your senses are simply telling you that it’s time yet again for another Secret Santa!
Last year’s Secret Santa was a huge success and we’d like to do it again this year! Please ensure you are following our Secret Santa blog!
The last day to enter will be the 15th of December! And we will notify everyone who they are giving a gift to on the 16th. This is to allow everyone to have enough time to create grifts with those they were matched with!
Roman’s and Greeks gather together to celebrate their unity. Piper loses her purse and the night has a dramatic ending.
Percy had lived in New Rome for most of his adult life and he had yet to see it in such a beautiful condition. He didn’t know who was responsible for it, but the progress in the cities reconstruction was astounding. Where they hadn’t completed work, delicate decorations such as fairy lights or neon signs had soften the atmosphere around the square where the festivities were taking place. Striding through the crowds of people, he greeted friends left and right. He was wearing one of the few pieces of his wardrobe that he’d managed to salvage after he’d returned to his apartment at the war’s end. A dark navy blue suit with a light pink shirt and blue tie. Brown belt and brown shoes of course. Heading towards the bar, he ordered a drink. This was going to be a good night, at least that was what he hoped.
Wally had left after Z. The pair decided to meet each other at the feast separately. Wally came in a dark purple tux with a dark tie to match. He had added a laurel wreath to his head for the evening, something he felt was a nice addition. Wally was openly nervous, looking around every few minutes, waiting for something to pop up. It felt like nothing could be enjoyed anymore. The smell of food was quick to reduce his fears. Maybe if he ate something he’d feel better. As trays of food passed around, Wally picked up what seemed to be a fried ball of filled with stuffing and mashed potatoes. “Holy shit, has anyone else tried this?!” Wally snuck a few more of the things off a tray and made his way over to the bar to order a drink. He smiled when he saw Percy down a few seats. “Hey! You look good, man.”
As a general rule, Abigail was not a party person. Partially because bumping into other people was inevitable, partially because talking to other people was inevitable, partially because it meant getting all dressed up when she’d much prefer to lounge around in her couch, braless, hair tied up in a bun, wearing an oversized shirt covered in Cheeto dust and with her cat, Shelley, curled up on her lap. Counterpoint: she liked drinking, dancing and eating fancy snacks. So this was kind of a conundrum. In the end, she solved it by giving into peer pressure and going to the friggin’ party. Wearing a full-length light blue gown (with full sleeves and gloves, of course) and with her hair in a neat braid, Abigail was thoroughly enjoying the open bar, ordering the drinks that looked the fanciest and the wackiest. Later, once her legs had rested from the walk over, maybe she’d dance.
Noticing the two children of Hecate that had arrived around him, Percy finished his drink order. “Hey Wally,” he said as he finished ordering a pint of beer, turning to look at Abby and then leaning back and engaging both his friends, “you and Abby definitely know each other right?” he asked with a gentle smile. He’d known both Wally and Abby separately. Both of them were children of Hecate and though he’d spent time in New Rome and Camp Half Blood with them separately, this might’ve been the first time that he’d seen them together. “Is it too early to start really drinking? I’ve been considering when the appropriate time to start doing shots would be.”
While Jason wasn’t the world’s biggest fan of overly formal events, he couldn’t deny that he looked pretty good when he attended them. Anxiously smoothing down the front of his dark gray jacket and adjusting his dark red tie he strode purposefully into the half-finished Senate house, marveling at the beauty of the edifice. As he turned slowly to take in everything around him he caught a familiar bearded face from across the room, and wandered over to his best friend, snagging two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray as he did. “It might be too early for shots. However I think you’re in the clear for some bubbly.” He squeezed Percy’s arm and nodded to the people he was talking to, brushing his hair out of his face. “Evening. You both look lovely.”
While Percy was all fussy about when was the right time to start drinking, Abigail was on her third tequila shot. “Uh. Wally? Never heard of him. Sounds like he got jealous of my nickname, though”, she said, deadpan, before licking off the salt from the back of her hand and downing her shot like a pro. “Evening, Jason. Thank you, I always do. You two look nice, too.” Unable to help herself, she added, teasingly: “For guys, I guess.”
Annabeth had never been one for much dressing up, and she much preferred her shorts and t shirts, but in the spirit of the Unity Feast she was now sporting a long blue gown. Praying to all the gods that she didn’t trip over it somehow in the course of the evening, she headed over to where a cluster of her friends stood. “ Hey, what’d I miss? ”
Wally nodded. “Yes we know each other, sadly.” He smiled at Abigail and thanked the bartender when his drink arrived. “I think we all look pretty sexy, myself included, of course.” When Annabeth came over, he shrugged. “Nothing yet. We’re getting drinks, but it seems Percy is apprehensive. But my guess is: put something blue in front of him and he’ll drink it, no matter what.” Wally took a look around and showed his plate of kind-of-stolen delicacies to the small group. “You guys gotta try these. There is mash potatoes and stuffing mixed in. It’s like . . . I don’t know. It’s the kinda stuff the gods hoard away from us.”
Turning, Percy accepted the glass of champagne off of his best friend and took his place besides Jason. Smiling graciously, he shrugged. “I want to be clear, I’m not the type of person to shy away from a good drink. I definitely don’t think that I’m the type of person to turn down a shot, I was simply musing as to whether or not it was worth considering if there was an appropriate time for shots. Four for shots perhaps?” he smiled gently and looked to Annabeth, winking gently at his friend before taking a sip from his champagne flute as the music filtered through the evening air. The sound of violins singing in the background.
“I never really associated this outfit with pounding shots at the bar,” Jason laughed, straightening his tie and vest, but if we’re lining up at the rail, I’ll do my duty and uphold my collegiate honor.” As Annabeth joined their group he gave her a small wave, sipping from his flute. The entire scene was a little surreal, but he didn’t all together hate it. They had earned this party, with blood sweat and tears and hopefully it would give them all a chance to heal some of the ugly wounds the war had opened. “I hope there are more than canapés at this thing or we’re going to be drunk in a corner in the first five minutes.”
Connor took his time arriving at the party. Sure, he enjoyed them, and all the things that came with parties, such as food and alcohol and pickpocketing, but he just wanted to take it slow tonight. Walking through the crowd, he wore a white button up shirt with floral patterns on, half buttoned down, along with navy pants and matching brown shoes and a belt. Flashing flirty grins at most people he passed, his eyes fell upon his friends at the bar. “I see we’re forming a sub-party over here, is it invite only?” He joked before ordering himself a whiskey and lemonade. “Glad to see we all turned up, everyone looks stunning.” His eyes flickered over everyone before finally landing on his drink. Tonight would have been great, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was terribly missing someone.
Marcus leant against a building on the outside of the square, tapping his ring against his glass. His eyes gently scanned through the crowd making mental notes of everyone he knew. So far, he hadn’t noticed anyone who caught his particular attention, other than a couple of greeks that had started to gather at the bar. Sighing he pushed himself off the wall and moved towards the centre of the square, slipping past people with ease. A smile tugged at the edge of his lips as he spotted his co-centurion and began to move towards her. “Cat, imagine seeing you here.” He joked.
It was strange to think that once upon a time Marcus had been Cat’s subordinate, but now they were partners in leading what was essentially her life’s work. Marcus had been the most suitable choice after Jax had left, however without him here, now, it felt strange. “Marcus,” she drawled, raising a glass of red wine to her equally crimson lips, “a pleasure as always to see you here.” Wearing a sleek black silk dress, Cat reached up and played with the black diamond she wore around her neck. Absently taking everything in. “It has truly turned out well, morale should benefit from the extravagance, don’t you think?”
Brock had been there since before the event started. He offered to act as guard but his higher-ups still felt he was a bit too off balance to be working. They believed it would be better for him to enjoy the event, as if he could. The entire feast, while he was happy to see Romans having a good time, it felt like a joke. Seeing Marcus and Cat, Brock got into stepping. Seeing familiar faces, ones incredibly friendly took a weight off of Brock he hadn’t been aware of before. “Marcus, Cat, how’re you both? You both look nice.” His eyes strayed from Cat but he kept an even smile. Brock had come in a suit lent to him by his friend, tailored of course. A dark green suit with a thin belt around his waist, similar to those of the strings tied around a tunic.
In her defence, Piper hadn’t meant to get so tipsy. She’d only meant to stay for a little while, have a couple of drinks, and then go home. But that wasn’t what happened. She was on her second drink by now, a complete and utter lightweight, swaying in time to the music as she swallowed the sweet taste of cranberry-vodka down her throat. She hadn’t put much effort into her appearance tonight, wearing a tight red dress and pair of heels. She looked great, however, but didn’t feel on her A-game. Nonetheless, she wanted to see everyone. Following after Connor, she said, “Hey, has anyone seen my purse? Pretty — pretty sure I left it somewhere. Don’t know where, but it’s got to be here somewhere.” Even when tipsy, she could talk eloquently.
Eyeing the drinks available, Annabeth was torn between making a conscious decision to stay sober, or throw caution to the wind, because let’s face it, they all deserved a night to get shitfaced after everything that had gone on. “ Cheers to the night? ” She lifted her own glass at the group, raising her eyebrow as Conner and Piper joined them. “ I haven’t, but I could go with you to take a look around if you’d like? ” She offered, noting the slightly slurring girl. There was a voice in the back of her mind telling her that if the beginning of the night was any indication, it might be safer for there to be at least one sober person. God knows what might happen when you mixed a bunch of demigods and legacies who had still unresolved tension and alcohol.
Despite everything that had happened in the last few months, Percy found himself relaxing and enjoying himself. Swallowing a few mouthfuls of champagne, he glanced between Annabeth and Piper wondering whether Piper had even brought a purse with her, “I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Percy replied with a smile as he reached for several more glasses of champagne and passed them around the group, ensuring that anyone who didn’t already have a drink was well provided for. “If I can just take a moment, I’d like to toast us all, Roman and Greek alike, we’ve been through so much and we’ve come out stronger. So a toast to the years to come, with all the friends we’ve made along the way.” He raised his glass towards the small group they’d formed by the bar. Completely oblivious of all the people they were blocking from gaining access to said bar, but in that moment they couldn’t care less.
Despite his love for these events, Aidan was nervous with how things would go. If he’d know anyone there, if he’d be dressed well enough. He fidgeted with his outfit in the storefront windows as he made his way down, feeling over the soft pink lace sewn over his creamy white jacket. Matching pants, and rose gold cufflinks. He stared at the lights of the party before entering, putting on his best smile. His anxiety washed away seeing people he knew. “Hope I’m not too late to join in?” He asked, picking up a glass of his own, knowing to be mindful of how much he had, eyeing Cat. Aidan wasn’t about to embarrass himself further. Everything felt surreal. Calm. Okay for the first time and Aidan felt good about the night. About the future a little bit too.
Jason raised his glass as Percy launched into a toast, nodding along to his friend’s words. “Here here. To the friendships we’ve made along the way and to the peace we now work to construct. May they both last an eternity.” He downed his glass and passed it off to a passing waiter before snagging another full one. He was more than his usual amount of awkward; given that this was the first event he’d been to where he didn’t have a title and job to hide behind, but he was bound and determined to make it work. Which meant acknowledging the presence of the bitch in the black dress across the circle from him. “Ms Karavadra.” He half bowed “you look lovely this evening. Hopefully you’ll save a dance for me later, provided your dance card isn’t already full.”
By the time Abigail came back, she was still a little tipsy and her feet -- foot, her foot hurt. She slid delicately onto the stool, propped her elbows up onto the bar. Her cheeks were flushed with the exercise, her hair only slightly out of place. “I missed the toast?” she asked, then ordered a side of French fries, one of her few guilty pleasures. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Karavadra, promptly deciding to ignore her. It had always been obvious how Karavadra felt about the Greeks, so Abigail felt no obligation to go out of her way to be nice.
Honestly, as Cat, Brock and Marcus made their way past the group of merrymakers toasting and loudly talking about shots, food and the food time that they were having. Cat’s emotional mask slid into place as she gave Jason the most beautiful smile that she could muster. “You look positively ravishing yourself, that suit really brings out your eyes.” She smiled kindly at him as she continued gliding past. “I shall endeavour to save you a dance,” she gestured to Marcus and Brock as if to indicate that she was already inundated with potential prospects, “but as I am sure that you can see Mr. Grace, my dance card is filling up fast, so make sure you get in while stocks last.” She gave him one final sickly sweet smile, a mischievous glitter in her eyes as she imagined what disembowelment would be like for him. She hoped painful. His self righteous smug nature was almost sickening.
Cat had a way with people, she knew what to say and how to seem elegant and hide her true feelings. Marcus however, struggled with it despite his natural gift with the mist and his illusion spells. Instead, he opted to simply showing his true emotions, one of disinterest towards the group. He remembered all the Roman legionnaires they had lost through the war, not to mention their legionnaires on every other day too. He might have seemed old fashioned with his ways, but blood must have blood, just, not now. Leaving Cat’s side, he flashed a chaotic smile at Jason and then the others. “You don’t mind if a join you right? You did make a toast to Romans and Greeks alike, that includes me right?” A tone of mischievousness danced in between his words as he placed his empty glass on the table and ordering a new one, purposely leaning over and Greeks in the way.
“Oh, Zeus”, Abigail said under her breath. She didn’t mind the Romans’ company on grounds of them being Romans, but she didn’t like the atmosphere they’d brought with themselves. Growing up in a hostile environment, she could pick up on the slightest of signs of someone getting angry. Her magic probably had something to do with it, too. Always a hater of physical contact, but too stubborn (too fucked up) to display weakness, Abigail didn’t even twitch as Marcus leaned over her to get a new drink. Her plate of fries arrived, and she used a toothpick to stab at them, eyes flicking between Jason and the Romans.
Connor rolled his eyes as Cat showed up. He recalled their previous conversation and couldn’t help but feel a taste of disgust in his mouth. “Piper, I could also help you look for it if you like? I’d rather be anywhere but in the presence of her.” He felt like spitting her name out of his mouth but held himself back. Besides, it honestly wasn’t worth it. “I haven’t seen anyone steal it, perhaps you left it on a table and a waiter picked it up?” Connor had been drinking but he was sober enough to help look for a purse.
Wally turned himself around when Cat showed up. He prayed to his mom that she was passing by. If he never saw her again, he’d be fine. Wally poured back half of his drink and signaled the bartender. This would be more fun, and a lot easier to get through if he was a lot less sober. “Whiskey shot,” he chimed. Wally vaguely heard the daughter of Aphrodite talking about a missing purse. He knew somewhere in his room there was a locator spell, but that was all the way back in his apartment. ‘Sides, Connor’s already offered, he reasoned. Waiting for Z might just be his best option.
Brock grinned at the Greeks and caught the eye of Annabeth and Jason. Even before the war, after the Greeks had shown up, word of Annabeth’s skill in battle came around quickly. He had imagined a few times what it would be like to fight her, what he could learn from her. Jason on the other hand made him feel agitated and annoyed. It was aggravating to see an unfaithful Roman, but Jason wouldn’t allow himself to get too deep into thought on that. There was mystery on both sides and it was easier to just protect the civilians. “Cat, maybe we should go somewhere less rowdy? You wouldn’t want to get anything spilled on that dress.”
It wasn’t like Z to be so terribly late. He had always been the punctual sort, but times were changing and he had a bit of elephant business to take care of before making his way to the festivities. As he slipped past people with faces he knew and treated, he fiddled with the cuffs on his suit jacket. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had the prior inkling to get anything new tailored and his recent surplus of physical activity was making his clothes fit a little snug. It couldn’t be helped. “Oh; excuse me,” he politely exclaimed as he passed by a couple talking privately amongst themselves. His shorter stature easily snaked beyond them, only for him to come to a complete stop when he nearly bumped into Aidan. “Lace? To an event like this? You’re bolder than I thought you’d be.” The tease came easily as he reached over and wrapped his fingertips around a glass on a tray passing by. He eyed the contents warily. The last thing he wanted was alcohol, but this was clear. The squint he gave the glass was almost threatening.
Percy winced internally as the Romans moved over to the side of his group and Marcus made it clear that he was welcoming himself to the proverbial party. Reaching into a small bowl of olives, Percy chewed on a thick green one soaked in chilli oil and made sure that it was crushed into nothingness before he even considered opening his mouth. “Yeah can I get two shots of tequila with lime and salt,” he turned to a Jason whom he knew couldn’t stand Catherine Karavadra, especially after what he considered to be her wrongful arrest of former Praetor Reyna and Frank, “down the hatch bud,” he grimaced as the tequila poured down his throat. The tension in the room was near unbearable as Connor and Cat seemed to glower at one another from across the room. However Percy was determined to ease things off, he knew that the easiest way to do so was probably to break the group up. Turning to Piper and Annabeth, he looked at Jason and grinned. “Ladies?” he asked as Boogie Wonderland began to play in the background, “may we have this dance?”
Cat knew that she was the least popular Roman in miles, and considering the high density population of this square that was truly something to say. The Karavadra family hadn’t done itself any favours by funding and leading the war effort. But Cat knew deep in her stomach that she had done the right thing. She’d been protecting her city, protecting her people. “Yes, I think we should move along Brock, are you coming Marcus?” she asked as she strode away and moved towards Aidan and Z. “I agree, lace was certainly a very bold choice, however I am not convinced that Aidan’s got it in him to be anything less than bold, it has always been a trait that he has possessed.” Despite the fact that he’d previously drunk too much on a mission, she had to admit that the guts which that took was impressive to say the least, she didn’t know many Legionnaires that would survive an ordeal or even risk it.
Piper, ever the eloquent one, grinned at Annabeth, giving her an appreciative glance as she did so. About to accept the offer, she was interrupted by Percy. “I wouldn’t worry about it usually,” she replied. “But I’m pretty sure I left a few important items in - in the bag.” A hiccup sounded, soon followed by another giggle. She was about to say more — perhaps launch into a great speech herself — when Percy beat her to it. Honestly, his way of speaking was much better — and more eloquent — than hers was, so she let it slide, lifting her glass in the air and saying, “Hear, hear!” in response to what he had said. Then, noting Connor at her side, the young demigod latched onto him, curling an arm over his shoulders as she said, “The more help the merrier! I really, really need that bag. Seriously.” She’d already forgotten what she’d put in there, beside a pack of gum, but she was sure it was important. And whoever Connor (and Jason) were trying to avoid, Piper would happily help them do so. However, the thought of her bag was soon forgotten upon Percy’s invitation to dance, and with yet another grin in Jason and Percy’s direction (and with a slight stumble), she said, “I’d love to. Annabeth, what do you say?”
On the surface, this was the time for Greeks and Romans to make up, but as the daughter of a strategy goddess, or even someone with a smidge of common sense, Annabeth knew that things would never be that easy. She nodded in acknowledgement, smiling slightly at the ones who recently arrived, feeling the need to set an example, but it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t wary, especially of Catherine. Grateful for Percy, she silently commended him in her mind, knowing that if they continued here any longer it wouldn’t end up well. “ Don’t yell if I step on anyone’s toes, though. The rest of you want to come? ” She grinned, moving in their direction and extending a hand to steady Piper. The responsible part in her, though, couldn’t help but question Piper again. “ Are you sure you don’t want to go look for your bag first? If there’s important things in it … ”
Frowning at the situation, Percy decided that before any dancing was to be done they would have to discover the whereabouts of the bag. “Has anyone asked some of the staff?” he turned around to the bartender behind the bar and turned to look at Piper. After a hurried conversation, Percy turned to the group. “The bartender says he hasn’t seen it but there is apparently an official lost and found across the way,” he turned and strode off, unsure of which way to go, but he led the way all the same, doing everything that he could to indirectly combat the tension growing between them all. “What colour is your purse?” he asked curiously as the music shifted from Earth Wind and Fire to something a bit more modern that he couldn’t place his finger on.
Connor grinned as Piper placed an arm around him but simply slipped away when she left for a dance. He wasn’t in the mood to dance right now, not after the atmosphere that Cat brought with her. He was about to suggest that he go look for the purse whilst they danced, but then Percy set off on a mission. With a skip and sprint, he caught up to Percy’s side. “I can check the square entrances? Perhaps someone picked it up and dropped it off there. I don’t think it was stolen, and if it was, I could find that out too.” Without waiting for a response, he turned to face the others. “Anyone want to join me?” He then turned and made his way to the entrance that he had come through.
Marcus picked up the drink the bartender had whipped up for him but before he could say anything else, the group seemed to split up and Cat somewhat summoned him to follow her. Sipping his drink he grinned and followed behind Cat, free hand in his pocket. He wasn’t exactly impressed with how Aidan acted during the raiding of the Greek party, but it was amusing. He wasn’t there but he had definitely heard about it. It had been brought up at one of the Centurion meetings so that the Centurion of the 5th could deal with it. “Can you handle your alcohol tonight Aidan?” He said with a teasing smile. He then turned to look over the crowd. Frankly, he was rather bored. “Brock, interested in doing some rounds? I wouldn’t mind reprimanding a few legionnaires that have gotten themselves drunk during the festivitie?”
All the Greeks seemed, suddenly, very concerned with Piper’s bag, and Abigail suspected -- no, she was certain -- that, while their concern was real, they were all the more grateful to get away with the least popular demigod in New Rome. It was a pity that Marcus was so heavily associated with her (at her beck and call, in Abby’s opinion), because, as her mother always said: she was always Hecate. That was why she’d been the least affected by the Roman-Greek split. In her opinion, Marcus and the other children of Trivia were almost as much of her siblings as their Greek counterparts... “See you ‘round, brother”, she said, stabbing another fry with her toothpick. Deciding to help out, Abigail stood. “I’ll come with you, Connor.”
Cat gently watched the majority of the Greeks depart from the large part of the bar that they’d been occupying. “Make sure that you don’t pick on too many of them, I’ve got a nice 10 mile run in full gear for any of our Legionnaires returning to the barracks intoxicated underage, and anyone late for duties will be joining them.” It was a tradition she and Jax had formerly run, and one she intended to continue running in her brother’s absence. She didn’t mind her soldiers enjoying themselves, but they had to always put their duty first. Arriving to duty hungover was unacceptable and it was not something she was willing to tolerate. “But do make sure that our soldier’s are minding their manners. I’d hate for anyone to get upset in such a tense time.”
Aidan’s face flushed and he shrugged. The situation had grown increasingly uncomfortable with Cat and Marcus’ presence, and it felt weird to receive what felt like a compliment from her. “Thank you Z, thank you Cat. And don’t worry, Marcus, I will be watching my intake. I’ve learned that lesson. The rather hard way.” He said remembering how hot and heavy that armor had been the full 10 miles. His muscles ached from the memory. “But maybe go easy on my fellow legionnaires? Gods know we could all use tonight as a break. All work and no play, you know.” He watched as the group split, most people going after his sister’s mysteriously lost purse. He wondered if she’d even brought it. “How’ve you been Z? I haven’t seen you in a hot minute.”
There was a lot to unpack at once. Z recalled, during the final declaration in front of the senate, that there was some sort of tension between Cat and Aidan, but the wording tonight from the centurion and also the man following her alluded to something more. The child of Hypnos would’ve given why a bit more thought, only the voices of a few familiar people caused his head to tilt away from those closest to him to garner a glance at the slight commotion. His ears could faintly pick up on them deciding to split up to look for Piper’s purse. He thought it was best to join them, since it would give him a chance to avoid whatever was about to happen before him with the Romans, but their talking drew him back in and his honey eyes snapped back to them quickly. “Never a dull moment for the Legion, I suppose,” he mused over the rim of his glass. Wagering a sip told him it was very much not water and he hated how smoothly the small bit of clear liquor went down without causing him to wince. “I’ve been as alright as I could be. It’s hard not falling victim to the ‘all work and no play’ sort of thing nowadays. I take it that it’s been fairly similar with people on your end as well?” His words were in the addressing of all the parties before him, not simply to Aidan. He didn’t want to be rude, no matter how much his skin crawled and itched at the thought of what sort of snap could possibly come from Cat or the, frankly, curt man with her.
Brock laughed and shrugged, picking his head up to look around at all that was going on. “Sure, though I think Aidan’s right, Marcus, go easy on them tonight. It’s not everyday that we get to go to a feast.” Roman life was hard and as understatements go, that was certainly one of them. But it made their parties, the times when they did relax all the better and everyone was more grateful for it. If he couldn’t relax tonight, on day when everyone was suppose to be thankful for things, maybe his superiors were right and he was too rigid. “Maybe have a drink first, Marcus.”
Wally watched the group of Greeks leave as he stayed at the bar, deciding to wait on Z. It was a few more minutes until he heard the sound of his boyfriends voice. Turning around, he saw him talking to the kid who Wally had looked after children with. He smiled, happy to see that Z was making friends. He looked back and realized his shot had been sitting there, waiting for him. He threw it back and grabbed his other drink, and went to join Z by putting an arm around his waist and saying hello to both him and Aidan. “Nice night for a party. How’re you boys?”
“Definitely.” Aidan replied. “Reconstruction efforts, civilian complaints…” He sighed, shaking his head and grinned. “And children watching. Wally here sure knows his way around the kids.” He greeted the man as he appeared. Aidan felt like gushing over how cute the pair were, but he held himself together for his current superiors. “I’m pretty good, and how are you? Did you get called back to the daycare since last time? I’m sure the kids wondered why you haven’t been back yet.”
Nico was never huge on social gatherings. The whole idea had his anxiety skyrocketing, but given the general atmosphere of New Rome following the full blown war he'd completely missed out on, he figured making an appearance would be a good thing, especially considering his history of attempting to maintain peace between the Romans and the Greeks. He arrived in an all black three piece suit, despite the fact that he absolutely hated dressing up, but a dress code was a dress code. The decor was breathtaking, and the reconstruction seemed to be heading in the right direction. Deciding against immediately seeking out human interaction, he made his way over to the bar and, after a millisecond long internal discussion about just how old he was (sometimes he forgot his exact age, given the fact that he was technically almost a century old), he ordered himself a Guinness and took a few small sips from the glass.
Percy had checked three bars across the square, doing his best to find Piper’s lost property. He had been enjoying the night well enough, and it only improved as he spotted the black three piece suit of Nico di Angelo. Drinking his typical pint of Guinness, Percy wondered if his friend drank Guinness for the aesthetic or whether he genuinely enjoyed the taste. Either way there was something striking about his appearance. “Nico!” Percy beamed, “I was wondering if you would show up.” Turning to the bartender he ordered himself another drink. The waiters that were moving around the room with Champagne seemed to have disappeared for the moment and Percy wanted to try reconnect with his friend, if he possibly could. “Isn’t the party going well?” he asked as the bartender passed him a pint of Blue Moon. Sadly the drink itself wasn’t actually blue, but the name at least made up for it a little bit.
Nico had no intention of moving from his spot at the bar just yet. Social interaction was draining, something he had to work himself towards. He’d blown through a quarter of his Guinness before he made out a familiar face moving through the crowd and towards him, a small smile forming on his lips. “Figured I'd at least make an appearance.” he responded, turning his body toward his friend. “I think so, yeah. Part of me forgets you guys were at each other's throats not too long ago, but then I spotted a couple Legionnaires giving me the stink eye.” he added with a light laugh. “I think things are going in the right direction for the most part, though.”
Percy had to admit that he was pleased to see his friend. Slipping his hand into his jacket pocket, he reassured himself by patting the pen which would transform into Riptide on the inside pocket of his jacket. Sipping at the hoppy larger he’d been given, Percy shrugged. “We were all manipulated into fighting one another, that’s something that’s going to take time to adjust to that,” sighing gently he took another long drink and sat silently. “The tension seems undeniable.” He sighed gently and shrugged. “But these things are the best worked out in social situations with a shit tonne of booze and food, right?”
Connor accepted the company and began checking the entrances. “No luck, this is really strange. I’m sure it’ll show up sometime though. He shrugged and dug his hands into his pockets, slowly heading over to a bar and ordering shots. “I suppose we should reward ourselves for the effort.” He states as 5 shots per person were poured. They were called sours and weren’t potent but 5 of them were surely to get the party going. He took all 5 swiftly and tilted his head back to enjoy the head rush. Spinning, he turned to locate everyone. He noted Percy’s location, watched as Marcus seemed to leave the party and finally his eyes fell on Cat. He stared as anger boiled. He couldn’t believe how stubborn and selfish someone could be. Not offering help to refugees simply because she’s helped the Romans already and was busy rebuilding. Perhaps it was the alcohol crowding his judgement but he spat on the floor and pulled a subtle middle finger at the Roman before turning and ordering his favorite drink. “I hate her.” He said to whomever was still with him after the shots and the purse hunt.
Cat hadn’t seen Connor’s less than subtle attempt at swearing at her. Mainly because as she had been crossing the square, she had noticed a small bag. Squatting down delicately, she scooped it up and returned to her less than lofty heights. Although the heels she wore allowed her to stand above her usual stature. Opening the purse, she flicked through it to find an ID. Piper Mclean. Interesting. Cat hadn’t exactly ever talked to Jason Grace’s former flame, and though she was sure that Piper was as insufferable as the rest of the heroes of the prophecy who had earned their fame through a few lucky quests, unlike her prestigious career through the Legion, leading and fighting for her people as it should be done. She was aware that a purse had been lost, and set out to return it to its owner. They had to at least pretend to play at peace right?
Connor turned and leaned his back against the bar, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes scanned the crowd again. It was a habit of his, searching the crowd for potential targets even if he had no plans of stealing anything. That’s when his eyes landed on Cat yet again. Seeing the purse that clearly did not match her outfit, he squinted and pieced things together. He launched himself off the bar and stormed off towards her. “I see you’ve found a purse, how convenient after Piper’s had just gone missing. I don’t suppose that’s hers is it?” He stood in her path, arms folded across his chest. “If you’re done doing who knows what with her belongings, I’ll return it to her thanks.” He held his hand out for her to hand the purse over.
Cat had no intention of speaking to impudent Greek that was angrily crossing the square across from her. However it soon became clear to her that Connor had every intention of speaking to her. Not even bothering to suppress the roll of her eyes she tutted at him. “Are you always this arrogant and rude?” she asked with a sneer quickly dancing across her face before she composed herself. “For your information, I only just picked this up, unlike you children of Hermes I have no intention or desire to steal. If I wanted this purse then I’d simply purchase it. However as this is hardly my sort of taste,” she looked somewhat disdainfully at the purse and frowned gently, “now if you’ll excuse me then I shall return this myself, I don’t need your interference, please step aside and next time remember who you’re speaking to. I’m not one of your cabin mates from Camp Half Blood. I’m a centurion of the twelfth Legion, I don’t owe you any explanation.”
“Actually, yeah I am.” Connor spat. “Especially to people that have given me a clear reason for me to be rude to them.” He spoke with confidence and met her gaze. “It’s not the purse you wanted, it was the information. Like you said, you’re a Centurion of the twelfth Legion, it’s your job to collect information on people who could be a threat, maybe you’re just collecting knowledge of the Greeks so that next time you declare war against us, you’ll have a better fighting chance.” He laughed dryly. “Yeah, so you get your henchmen to do everything else for you, but this you’d like to do yourself? To paint yourself as a hero when you stole it in the first place? That’s the thing with Hermes kids like myself, we don’t just steal things, we know other criminals moves as well.”
Laughing quietly and mirthlessly at Connor, Cat actually had to place a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from really shrieking with laughter. “Ah, you’re truly a fool, I am more committed to the peace process than any of us, if you don’t remember it was my orders that had the senators taken into custody.” She would’ve liked to say that she hadn’t collected information on what she considered to the main strengths and weaknesses of all of the most powerful demigods who could be seen as a threat to her or to the Cult. “However, just because you’ve developed a vendetta against me and my people, like so many of your people is not of interest to me. I have nothing to benefit from painting myself as the hero over something so petty. You’re drunk and making a fool of yourself. Now I’ll ask you one more time step away from me and allow me to continue on my path. This is none of your concern. Go back to your drinks.”
“Connor.” Abigail said, resting her hand over his chest to stop him from possibly advancing over Cat. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was firm, commanding respect. In another life, she would’ve made a good commander. “Stop. It’s not worth it to pick a fight. Actually, it’s downright a bad idea. Peace is fragile right now. Don’t. Blow it.”
Past experiences had trained Annabeth to sense trouble brewing pretty quickly, though she was too far away to stop the confrontation between Connor and Catherine. She’d never been much of a peacekeeper herself, one much more likely to fall victim to her own pride, but even then her analytical mind knew that de-escalation would be the correct path here. Noting that there was already someone attempting to hold Connor back, she caught his eye for a moment, hand slightly tapping his back as she passed, hoping that he would take the hint to back down. Instead, she turned her attention to Cat, smile on her face. “ Thanks for finding it, but Piper’s a little tipsy at the moment, and would probably end up losing it again if you gave it to her now. We’ll take care of it for now, but I’ll let her know that you found it. ”
Raising an eyebrow at the situation, Cat dipped her head gently and nodded. Handing the purse gently and carefully over to Annabeth before taking a step away. She had no intention to further the conflict with Connor, she wasn’t nearly childish enough to do so, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true but she had airs to keep up. Her professionalism was meant to be the core of her personality. “Hopefully she doesn’t lose it again,” she turned and strode away, moving towards Marcus with a slight smirk. That had been somewhat satisfying.
The Legionnaires had a lot on their plates, but this was certainly not a concept localized for just them. Z couldn’t quantify the amount of work the Greeks were also busy with. His own workload was enough to make him dizzy sometimes. “That does seem like quite a bit—Oh!” he gasped out softly as an arm snaked around his form. He looked over, and then subsequently upward, to see his boyfriend’s face, and his heart skipped a beat. Thank the gods it wasn’t someone random. “Aidan was the one you were working with at the daycare? What a coincidence. We met while I was keeping some children company in a game of hide and seek.” The universe worked in mysterious ways, it seemed. It was basically fate that they meet, just as it seemed to be fate that some sort of loud conversation broke out at an event for peace. As short as he was, he couldn’t quite see over the heads of other partygoers, but he did catch the faintest of sights of Connor and what sounded to be Cat’s voice as well over the cacophony of others. A frown graced his face as he fiddled with the glass between his hands.
Aidan sighed, thinking about how cute Wally and Z were, wishing he too would someday find something like they had. Or at least had thought to bring a date to dance with. It felt like a middle school dance, as tensions kept most the groups to the bar and food areas. Chatting quietly. At least it was passive until he heard the commotion, and felt a vague sense of dejavú watching Connor drunkenly yell at Cat. He just felt glad it wasn’t himself, not having even finished the glass in hand. Aidan downed it and trying to keep a smile on his face as he began to feel suffocated from the ensuing silence cleared his throat. “Brock- would you uh, would you care to dance?” He asked, trying to change the subject. “I love the-the cha cha slide, everyone… knows it…” He trailed off, hoping someone would jump to his aid. Surely he wasn’t the only uncomfortable one.
The Dominus has watched eagerly as the party had progressed. Tension burning bright after all the chaos they’d caused for them lingered in the back of their minds. Placing their empty palm on a sphere of crystal they stepped forward and cleared their throat before exerting their will on the magical artefact in their possession. Across the city, in the unity feast a shimmering apparition appeared before darkening into a silhouette made of pure shadow. With a voice like nails being dragged across slate, the Dominus began their first address. “Demigods. I hope you have enjoyed tonight’s festivities as it may be one of your last.” They pause for dramatic effect, drinking in the silence that had fallen on the crowd. “I appear before you tonight with some information for all if you. An omen, a warning. By now, you are aware that there is a cult that has burrowed and wormed its way into the city’s roots and corrupted almost every aspect of this society. The members of this cult are among us as I speak, yet in the shadows, they hide. The cult is one of the most powerful forces in New Rome, and it obeys my bidding now. I have poisoned this city, and used the cult to do so. Watch in despair as your hopes rot away, leaving nothing behind, you are witnesses of the end of New Rome. Your city will soon collapse in terror and despair. You may be asking yourself who I am, well that’s easy. I, am simply known, as the Dominus. A name that will be on your tongues as you die in the rubble of this fallen city. Enjoy tonight, as soon the time of reckoning will be upon you.” The Dominus stepped away from his artefact and the vision cut off, a moment later the unity feast exploded into a chaotic roar of questions and shouts, confusion and concern enveloping the whole group.
As you make your way through New Rome you notice many things. The night is cool and crisp, music fills the air and the spirit of thanksgiving makes you feel optimistic for the upcoming party. Everyone knows that thanksgiving is a time for family, friendship and love. So it is no surprise that the whole of Camp Jupiter, New Rome and the Legion have all come in to join the festivities. Bright fairy lights decorate the trees and many of the ruined buildings, around a large square filled with people. Everyone seems to be milling around talking to friends, greeting their loved ones and nursing a drink in the chilly night air.
Past the square is a huge building otherwise half constructed, known as the senate house. The facades of the building are complete with pure white marble pillars, plinths for vases and statues of famous heroes that have been raised in and amongst the Legion. As you enter the square you see huge crowds of people. A violin quartet fills the air with music, their is dancing all around, the drinks flow like white water rapids and the food covers the table in mountainous piles. Tonight will be a night to remember.
Everyone is dressed to the nines. Dark tuxedos and suits, bright ball gowns and jewels, and a general atmosphere of extravagance decorates the hall. Tonight will be a night to remember. Are you ready for it?
Welcome back to our first event since the end of the war! We hope that you’re all looking forward to the Unity Feast!
IC Information:
The unity feast is a new event set on Thanksgiving, taking the traditional American holiday it aims to bring together Romans and Greeks alike and rebuild bridges that have been burned during the war.
However this is easier said than done and though the atmosphere is pleasant, at the back of everyone’s minds there is a tension in the air. This is something we’d love to see explored!
There is bountiful amounts of food and drink for your characters to enjoy.
The dress code is black tie!
Everyone is invited!
OOC Information:
The event will take place primarily as a chatzy (we’ll distribute the links through the discord server).
The event will take place from the 19th to the 22nd of November. The chatzy will be posted on the 23rd of November.
Congratulations DYLAN and welcome! We’re so happy to accept your application to play MARCUS ACARDI with the faceclaim of MATTHEW DADDARIO in Fire & Glory RPG! We can’t wait to begin roleplaying with you so please remember to look over our checklist!
Original Character Application:
Name: Marcus Titus Acardi
Age and Birthday: 25. 24th July 1992
Faceclaim: Matthew Daddario or Landon Liboiron
Heritage: Son of Trivia, Legacy of Mercury, Bellona and Vulcan.
Abilities:
Mystiokinesis: Marcus has the ability to manipulate energy from the world around him or from inside him to perform magic. It is strongest at night.
Mist Control: Marcus has the ability to manipulate the mist. He can create illusions, he can hide locations or reveal them
Natural gift for combat
Affiliation: 1st Cohort. Member of the Cult of Romulus.
Headcanons:
Marcus Acardi has been practicing mist manipulation since he was young. He found out he had the ability when he had manipulated the mist to hide himself from his trainer when he was 6. Since then he’s learned how to hide objects and locations and reveal them too. He can create other illusions like making multiple of himself appear or even making an apparition of himself and speak through it, even if he is not in that physical space or location.
Marcus has learnt how to create runes that he paints onto his skin with herbs. They act as a magical form of strapping or pain killers. They also sometimes give him small perks like speed or stamina boost.
Marcus is an excellent archer and many considered him to be a legacy of Apollo as well. Being a legacy of Vulcan, he had the ability to easily enchant his arrows (and other weapons and armor) with spells.
Biography:
Marcus Titus Acardi was born into riches. He is Senator Acardi’s eldest son and was born the heir to the family’s wealth. When Titus saw the baby boy on his bed one night, he did not only see a son to love and care for, but more importantly, he saw a successor.
Marcus grew up under heavy military training and as soon as he turned 13, he was enrolled into the Legion. As a child, Marcus had nobody to play with and felt extremely lonely. This lead to him exploring his own powers and being able to truly get to know himself. It wasn’t until another child’s cries filled the Villa that he found a companion to spend his time with. His younger brother, Valerian. The two would cause mischief for the Villa staff, casting spells and illusions. They would later suffer the wrath of their father when he returned home at night. It wasn’t until Marcus joined the legion that Valerian told him that he felt as if he did not belong in his own body. Marcus accepted what his sibling told him with love and started calling them Valeria as requested. When it was Valeria’s turn to join the legion, Marcus helped her leave New Rome and join Artemis’s hunters. This day was one of rejoice and sadness. His sister had finally found a place where she belonged, but he had also lost the only person that helped him cope with their fathers continuous commands and every growing expectations to pick up the Acardi mantel.
Titus blamed Marcus for Valeria leaving and Marcus blamed Titus. He threw himself into his training, no longer having his best friend and sister around. He learnt how to emotionally disconnect himself, through spells and through mental training. He was to become the war machine his father wanted. However, no matter what Marcus did, Titus was never pleased. A rift grew between them that was only strengthened when Titus married Eileen and they had a son, Gregorio.
Marcus worked hard to impress the Senate and Praetor in hoped of one day becoming Centurion, but the position was given to Jax Karavadra during the second demigod war with the Greeks. Titus was outraged by his son’s failure and classified Marcus as a disgrace and made Gregorio the heir to the Acardi fortune. Marcus did not hold this against his Centurions or the Karavadra family. Since then Marcus has distanced himself from his father and family and only appeared for social functions, trying to take advantage of the power and connections he still had.
The cult of Romulus had somehow heard of his specialized control over the mist and asked him to join their ranks just after the war. Hesitant at first, he joined the cult and has since then helped hide their locations and secret entrances from the eyes of demigods. He also acts as a spy for the Cult due to his ability to hide himself with the mist. Marcus likes the power that the cult gives him, however, he started craving more. He’d participate in the fights that happened in the pits, training himself and making a name for himself. Obsessed with power and a new vision for New Rome, he climbed as many ladders as he could and waits for the right moment to finally have more power than his father and overthrow Titus Acardi, one way or another.
Marcus currently stays in the 1st Cohort barracks and since the war, has been promoted to Centurion and works alongside Cat.
Congratulations Evie and welcome! We’re so happy to accept your application to play Abigail Morgan with the faceclaim of Kat McNamara in Fire & Glory RPG! We can’t wait to begin roleplaying with you so please remember to look over our checklist!
Out of Character Information:
Name: Evie
Pronouns: she/her
Age: 19
Timezone: GMT - 4
Original Character Application:
Name: Abigail Hermione Morgan
Age and Birthday: 24 (November 21st)
Faceclaim: Kat McNamara, Madeleine Petsch
Heritage: Child of Hecate and an unknown mortal.
ABILITIES: Cast magic, control of the Mist. She can also receive overwhelming amounts of information through touch (anywhere on her body, but most noticeably through her hands)
Affiliation: None, standard New Rome citizen.
Headcanons:
- Because Abigail’s magic is mostly touch and intuition based, she often gets an overwhelming amount of information from whatever she touches. For this reason, she’s always wearing gloves.
- Her name, Abigail, was given to her by the orphanage, originally paired with the last name Smith. However, once she found out about her godly heritage, she decided to choose her own name: Abigail remained, but she’d recently gotten really into Harry Potter and chose Hermione as her middle name, and Morgan as her surname after Morgan Le Fay.
Personality:
- Independent. Well, that is, if you decide to put it nicely. As a result of fending for herself during her formative years, Abigail is almost violently independent. It is very rare for her to accept, let alone ask for help. This can be a good thing, because she’s absolutely self-sufficient (or so she tells herself), but it also means she frequently only realizes she can’t handle something on her own when it’s too late. This isn’t born out of arrogance, but out of genuine fear of having to rely on other people.
- Nerd Extraordinaire. If there’s one thing that Abigail enjoys, is a good sci-fi, RPG, game, TV show, comic or movie. The more horror-bound the story is, the better. The quickest way to get her to like you is start a conversation about any of those topics. She’s also a huge bookworm, is an extremely dedicated student and truly enjoys knowledge in any and every form.
- Skeptic. Abigail is always in search of proof, why, how, when, who, and if something feels off, she will insist on figuring out exactly what. Unfortunately, when it comes to people, this exacerbates into paranoia, and she will assume the worst until repeatedly proven otherwise.
- Dedicated. When Abby sets her mind to something, she will stop at nothing to achieve it. This makes her lethal and ruthless in a fight, and absolutely unbearable when it’s finals week and she’s running on coffee, despair and adrenaline because she needs those good grades.
- Generous. Abby knows what it’s like to be the outcast, someone who desperately needs a helping hand. She will never turn down someone in need, even if she particularly dislikes them.
- Resourceful. This is something Abby’s not sure if innate, or acquired by necessity. Regardless, the result is that she can find a use to anything, which led to her apartment being a clashing mess of salvaged couches with mismatching cushions.
Biography:
- Abigail was found on the steps of an orphanage as a newborn baby, frozen halfway to death. There was nothing with her except a key necklace and the filthy blanket she’d been wrapped up in.
- Her childhood was mostly a cycle of the orphanage and foster homes. The latter were, overall, one disappointment after another. Her ADHD made her “a problem child”, how tiny she was made her an easy target (the runt of the litter, so to speak), and her magic, something which no one was aware of at the time, seemed to always get into trouble: windows exploding when she was angry, previously locked doors unlocking for her, “guesses” about people’s pasts that were disturbingly accurate. The fact she was a natural troublemaker didn’t help, either.
- Her last foster parents were a seemingly nice couple, Mr and Mrs Jones. Abby stayed with them from ages 9 to 11, and, during that period, while she wasn’t outright mistreated, she wasn’t gifted a whole lot of love and attention. It all stopped when Hecate appeared before 11-year-old Abigail, and gave her two gifts: two double-bladed karambits, made of Stygian iron. Abigail was told about a place for people like her, but, as the goddess of crossroads, she didn’t force Abigail’s hand: she could run to the safe haven with the karambits, or she could keep trying in the system. A week later, Abby packed her things and left in the dead of night.
- For the next year, Abigail lived on the streets. She only survived through extensive usage of her magical, the weird liking dogs seemed to take to her, and lock-picking skills, something which came naturally easily to her. One night, she had a dream about Camp Half-Blood, and made it there practically on her own.
- Upon arrival, she was very closed off, but she got accustomed to camp life very quickly. Simply put, Abigail flourished. The double karambits are her signature weapons, but she makes heavy use of magic mid-combat.
- In the Second Titan War, Abigail not only lost so many of her siblings, but also ended up pinned underneath a pillar. Amidst all the blood, chaos and burning rubble, it took too long to realize she wasn’t another corpse. By the time she was recovered, one of her legs had begun to rot. It ended up being amputated below the knee, and the other, while it did make a full recovery, still aggravates her with chronic pain. She wears a prosthetic specifically for fighting most of the time, but she also has a pair of crutches she mostly uses for quick errands, and a wheelchair for days when both her stump and her remaining leg ache too badly. While the loss of her limb, at first, made her feel like her life was over (how am I supposed to fight? had been her main concern) and embarrassed her, by now, she has adjusted to it. Every now and then, Abby will once again become enraged, run a thousand what-ifs in her mind, but she’s accepted that her life doesn’t have to follow a different path just because she needs some extra help from technology every now and then. She doesn’t hide the prosthetic anymore, either, and it’s great for stepping on people’s toes.
- After the discovery of Camp Jupiter, Abigail moved to New Rome. She attends college there, and is majoring in Robotic Engineering with a minor in Literature. Her main goal is to make improved prosthetics and other accessibility-related tech, especially to demigods.
Para Sample:
“How have you been, Abigail?”
That was how the sessions always started. How are you doing, Doctor Moseley’s ever-watchful eyes on her face, Abigail’s staring at her own pants. Fingernail scratching into a spot on her knee. Light bouncing off her watch.
At least, today, the rain hitting the window made for a nice background noise. Not that it was enough to fill the silence between them. In it, Abigail felt the pressure inside her increase. In it, she was forced to feel the rot festering inside of her. Always festering.
Like pulling teeth, she finally replied, “Fine.”
As if her client hadn’t taken forever to answer, Doc just continued: “How was your week?”
“Fine.”
“What about your classes?”
“Great.” Abigail heard the scratch of pen on paper, and she automatically lifted her gaze to the notepad – uselessly, of course. After she’d learnt she could read Doc’s handwriting upside down, she began taking off her glasses during sessions. The short distance between them was enough for all of the lines on the notepad to blur together, so she couldn’t even hazard a guess on how many had been filled.
Being in the dark sucked. It was also necessary.
“And your sleep?” Doc was watching her again, but, this time, Abigail held it. In silence, probably for longer than needed. This time, it was Doc who broke the silence. “I see.”
“I didn’t say anything”, Abby spat out.
“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed”, Doc’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Unwelcomed, a smile tugged at the corner of Abigail’s lips. “Ah”, Doc observed, satisfied, “there it is.”
This was what made Doc the ideal therapist for Abigail: she didn’t let her get away with anything. Well, that, and the diploma. Diplomas, plural. Only after meeting her did it strike Abigail that children of Apollo would, naturally, make the best mental health professionals, with their charisma and medicine skills combined.
“Now, let’s try again”, she announced. “How are you doing–”
“The nightmares are back”, came out of Abigail’s mouth before she could stop it. Doc was unfazed by the interruption, and only watched, only listened. And, most importantly, believed her. Once the trickle started, the entire dam broke down, and the words didn’t pour out of her as much as they erupted. “But, I mean, they never really stopped, did they? And they never will. I get breaks, every now and then, which is nice. Thank the gods for those breaks, or I don’t know what I’d do. But it’s… it’s pointless. You know when… when you see something… a porcelain, or a, a glass or something, about to fall? When it’s, like, teetering over the edge cause you bumped against the table?”
Long used to the weird metaphors Abigail seemingly pulled out of her ass, Doc nodded. Abby continued, “It’s like that. During the breaks. Nothing bad’s happening, but I know it will. It’s a matter of time before I wake up crying again. I can see the glass is about to hit the floor and shatter, and there’s nothing I can do about it, so it just – it just means that I’m constantly waiting for the worst and it’s almost as bad as when it actually arrives.”
Another addition to the notepad. “Alright, Abigail. Let’s go back to the last time you caught a ‘break’, as you put it, between the nightmares.”
Oh, boy, she thought.
Fifty minutes later, she had recomposed herself, and hugged Doc goodbye. Her hands were shaking, and she definitely needed a huge-ass smoothie, and she hadn’t really hit any massive insights, but, today, the tears were a little less. Her heart felt just the tiniest bit lighter. Which, she supposed, meant improvement.
For now, there was no glass threatening to shatter.
Because Abigail’s magic is mostly touch and intuition based, she often gets an overwhelming amount of information from whatever she touches. For this reason, she’s always wearing gloves.
Her name, Abigail, was given to her by the orphanage, originally paired with the last name Smith. However, once she found out about her godly heritage, she decided to choose her own name: Abigail remained, but she’d recently gotten really into Harry Potter and chose Hermione as her middle name, and Morgan as her surname after Morgan Le Fay.
Abigail was found on the steps of an orphanage as a newborn baby, frozen halfway to death. There was nothing with her except a key necklace and the filthy blanket she’d been wrapped up in.
Her childhood was mostly a cycle of the orphanage and foster homes. The latter were, overall, one disappointment after another. Her ADHD made her “a problem child”, how tiny she was made her an easy target (the runt of the litter, so to speak), and her magic, something which no one was aware of at the time, seemed to always get into trouble: windows exploding when she was angry, previously locked doors unlocking for her, “guesses” about people’s pasts that were disturbingly accurate. The fact she was a natural troublemaker didn’t help, either.
Her last foster parents were a seemingly nice couple, Mr and Mrs Jones. Abby stayed with them from ages 9 to 11, and, during that period, while she wasn’t outright mistreated, she wasn’t gifted a whole lot of love and attention. It all stopped when Hecate appeared before 11-year-old Abigail, and gave her two gifts: two double-bladed karambits, made of Stygian iron. Abigail was told about a place for people like her, but, as the goddess of crossroads, she didn’t force Abigail’s hand: she could run to the safe haven with the karambits, or she could keep trying in the system. A week later, Abby packed her things and left in the dead of night.
For the next year, Abigail lived on the streets. She only survived through extensive usage of her magical, the weird liking dogs seemed to take to her, and lock-picking skills, something which came naturally easily to her. One night, she had a dream about Camp Half-Blood, and made it there practically on her own.
Upon arrival, she was very closed off, but she got accustomed to camp life very quickly. Simply put, Abigail flourished. The double karambits are her signature weapons, but she makes heavy use of magic mid-combat.
In the Second Titan War, Abigail not only lost so many of her siblings, but also ended up pinned underneath a pillar. Amidst all the blood, chaos and burning rubble, it took too long to realize she wasn’t another corpse. By the time she was recovered, one of her legs had begun to rot. It ended up being amputated below the knee, and the other, while it did make a full recovery, still aggravates her with chronic pain. She wears a prosthetic specifically for fighting most of the time, but she also has a pair of crutches she mostly uses for quick errands, and a wheelchair for days when both her stump and her remaining leg ache too badly. While the loss of her limb, at first, made her feel like her life was over (how am I supposed to fight? had been her main concern) and embarrassed her, by now, she has adjusted to it. Every now and then, Abby will once again become enraged, run a thousand what-ifs in her mind, but she’s accepted that her life doesn’t have to follow a different path just because she needs some extra help from technology every now and then. She doesn’t hide the prosthetic anymore, either, and it’s great for stepping on people’s toes.
After the discovery of Camp Jupiter, Abigail moved to New Rome. She attends college there, and is majoring in Robotic Engineering with a minor in Literature. Her main goal is to make improved prosthetics and other accessibility-related tech, especially to demigods.
Generally the age range is late teens to late thirties, however we’re more than happy to accept older characters then this! If you want to play an older character or use an older faceclaim then this is something we’d definitely encourage and we’d be more than happy to help in anyway that we can.
We have a member of the group that has had an unpleasant roleplaying experience with this specific faceclaim and they requested that we not accept this specific faceclaim as they struggle with it.
All things considered we want everyone to be able to enjoy a safe space in this RP, as such we’re more than happy to oblige and avoid using Kaya despite all of this.
