NAME: Lucian Doyle
GODLY PARENT (IF APPLICABLE): Tyche
AFFILIATION: Alumni (2010-2016) Alumni chair 2022 - current
SPECIES: Demigod
ABILITIES: Tychokinesis
BIOGRAPHY:
(CW: war, death, PTSD)
The universe always had a funny sense of humor when it came to Lucian, which he never found particularly funny at all.
He felt a bit like an outsider from the start, his half siblings never made it a big deal but everybody else did. Everybody around town always had a word or two about his dad's stepping out on his momma. Strangers didn't just show up one day, baby in hand, then disappear again without it being just what it seemed like. Funny thing was, it wasn't even the only time it'd happened. Lucky still felt awfully guilty about it anyway, as he got a little older.
Wasn't much point in arguing after his first run in with a big ugly something he didn't have a name for and maybe it really was dumb luck that got him out of that one. But it was common sense that told him he had to leave with the one who came seeking him, even being just a kid he still knew. Pepper had left too, hadn't she? Not too long before him.
Camp at least put him on even footing, sorta. Lesser gods weren't as important but he got by fine. Didn't bother him much anyway, Lucian didn't depend on other people anymore. But damn if they didn't depend on him when the cards weren't turning in their favor. He couldn't say no, didn't seem right to.
But people, they never suck around. They left, they lost their lives, and when the war happened a lot of them never came back. Lucky did, his mother was looking after him, just like always. But he shouldn't have been there, not so young.
Fortune favors the bold.
The universe tilted in his favor, it was never his doing, was it? But it helped a few people who might not have come back otherwise. He took the stupid risk to go because children, even teenagers, believe they are invincible, and sometimes they believe that it is their job to save, if not the world, the people in it they can.
Why worry about himself? His mother wouldn't let him fail. He believed that with the devotion of the child he still was.
Lucian went home after the war, after a few years at camp to heal the wounds burned into him. Aching, haunted and too young still for the life he'd seen. He worked in his uncle's repair shop, felt a little better using his own hands to fix things for a while. Dreamed of bigger things but left the dreams alone because when they came so easily they didn't feel like dreams at all, put them off until later, later and later. Then the monsters came nosing around again and he didn't have enough of his mother's gift to risk staying and thinking it wouldn't end badly for people around him.
So he didn't stay. He was fine on his own anyway.
Fortune favors fools.
Lucian always got by. Never one place too long though, the higher powers didn't care much about him but sooner or later something with teeth and claws always came lurking around. Lucian was tough, the scales tipped, he always got away and counted his scars after.
Just one more lonely year to add to the stack of em.
He'd be around long after most people, he figured, and he certainly doesn't want for much. Life is easier for him than most, and he isn't responsible for anything but himself. Everything is just in reach; money, distraction, all those shiny things, but reaching isn't much fun these days. He makes friends as easy as breathing, wonders in the next breath if those friends even remember his name when their good fortune takes them to bigger places because Lucian always looks after his friends, always tips the scales when he can, for them.
He gets his answer most of the time, a lot quicker than he wished.
He's made a game of stupid choices, reckless chances, let's see how long his mother will lend her gifts before she grows tired of her wayward son. But she never does, and Lucian shrugs and laughs, time and time again. One day the house of cards will fall, but he hasn't seen that day yet; he's still coming out on top, somehow.
Returning to Camp Swynlake he doesn't see that much has changed, he laughs about that too, because why not? What ever really changes? The universe’s plans sometimes glimmer before his eyes, pretty and perfect, he can guess the odds. Sometimes that's the worst thing in the world to know, when you know someone's luck has run out.
He was made to be a fool anyway, no point in being upset about it anymore. It's a hell of a thing feeling like chance can't get too much of a grip on you. Wanting too much is the biggest joke when you could have just about anything.
Except when what you want money or luck can't get you, at least not for very long.
