Son/Daughter of Hephaestus
Eye(s): Murky green.
Build Type: Athletic.
Brief Description: Aiden’s not what you’d call a ‘pretty boy’. His face is always smudged with dirt and grease, his hands are calloused with the tinkering he does, his clothes are forever dirty. Which girl would find him attractive, right? However, there’s this aura about him that makes girls flock to him easily. Not that he wants them too, he’d rather sit in the forges working on a sword that go out on a date.
Mortal Parent(s): Alice Evans.
Other Family: Wendy Evans- younger half-sister.
Pets: An Australian Mist named Zorro.
Brief History: Alice Evans wasn’t an extraordinary mortal. She was your average Californian girl, who hated the sun and hated to get herself dirty. She was an excellent software engineer, though, and caught the eye of a tall and brooding man. He wasn’t very handsome, but there was such warmth and compassion radiating from him, that Alice Evans had to approach him. They clicked instantly, and within a month, Alice was pregnant, with the father nowhere to be seen.
Alice was angry, but she didn’t take it out on the kid. She loved babies and children, so you’d expect her to be very much in love with the baby boy. Aiden wasn’t a difficult child. He was shy and quiet, but loved his mother to bits. He was very fidgety, and if depressed, he’d sit by his balcony, toying around with scraps of metal. He wasn’t a very sociable or intelligent boy. He’d get pathetic marks, and come home straight from school at 3.14pm sharp.
One day, on Aiden’s thirteenth birthday to be precise, Aiden was walking back home, passing the gully he always walked through. Suddenly, a tall and monstrous creature appeared before him, and Aiden screamed, and removed the USB cord from his bag. He whipped it at the Cyclopes, but the monster didn’t falter, unnerved at the least. He ran, and the Cyclopes followed him. Suddenly, at a turning, he turned back to get a glimpse of the Cyclopes, but he saw a deserted street. He slowed down, and gulped. He walked back home, and demanded an explanation from his mother. Alice, confused, didn’t know what to do, when the form of Hephaestus flickered before them, explaining everything to Aiden. Alice was hesitant at first, but she knew that was the best for her son, and on that day itself, Aiden was shipped off to Half-Blood Hill.
Personality: Aiden’s very reserved, and eccentric. You might spot him sitting outside his cabin, tinkering around with scraps of metal, giggling oddly to himself. He doesn’t talk much, and only speaks when spoken to. He believes that credit should be given when credit is due, and praises others when he feels praise is needed. He doesn’t make quick decisions, and over-thinks almost everything. He’s very shy, and therefore, hasn’t really had a girlfriend before. Girls make him nervous and fidgety, which isn’t good when you’ve got a hammer in your back-pocket.
Aiden’s a good friend. He’s loyal, and very possessive. He’s very forgiving of others, and doesn’t get angry very often. This makes him very vulnerable, and others tend to take advantage of him occasionally, without him realizing it. Although he doesn’t have many friends, he is prone to smother the few he does have. He isn’t one to do things out of the norm, and follows the rules to the dot.
Chemistry [the subject!]
Concentration when it’s needed.
Girls- they talk too much.
Inept when it comes to ‘fashion’.
Making aircraft models.
Listening to the sound of soft music.
Attack on camp.
Rogues, especially half the Ares kids.
Watching animated shows and movies
Fighting Specialty: Although Aiden is the one that usually supplies the ones fighting, if forced to, he can be very good with a knife.
Describe the extent of your powers/abilities: Aiden may be a very skilled artisan and blacksmith, but fire can affect him fatally. Although he uses it with caution, fire doesn’t favor Aiden well, in spite of Aiden being a son of Hephaestus. He’s given up hope on his one-to-one close combat fights, and is trying to improve his mediocre shooting skills.
Fatal Flaw: His inability to make quite decisions.
Please describe why you think you can stabilize a powerful character. Minimum of two well-developed paragraphs **Big Three Only**:
Please give a brief background on your minor god**Minor Gods Only**:
Theme Song: Across the Universe- The Beatles.
Name/ Alias: Wednesday.
Age: (Optional) 14. Unfortunately.
How long have you been role playing?: Online, not long- 4 months, probably? However, I’ve been roleplaying with my friends since I was eight, if that counts. I don’t think it does…but whatever.
Rate Your RPing 1-5 Stars according to our Star Rule (1 = beginner. 5= most advanced): 3-4, perhaps? It’s subjective, really.
How did you find us?: Through an advert on my other roleplaying site, via Leon Santiago.
Role Playing Sample: [This is not in Aiden’s character. Just thought I’d let you know.]
It was pretty uneventful for a day at Camp Half-Blood. Satyrs weren’t very enthusiastic while chasing the dryads; the Hephaestus kids were cooped up in the forges along with a couple of other demigods who had taken an interest in Arts and Crafts. The half-bloods from Ares were unusually calm today, and as Michael sat in the Arena, he realized no one wanted to visit the Arena today, either. Maybe due to the unpleasant weather…who knew.
Michael had occupied a seat in the auditorium, the corner seat in the third last row to be precise, his elbows were resting on his thighs, his shoulders slumped. He ignored the oppressive weather and the rumbling sounds his stomach was making. He was in the dumps, to put it quite frankly.
He heard something buzzing near his ear, and swatted the fly angrily. He was pleased no one was in the Arena as of yet. He could think properly without anyone bothering him. Although his cabin was appropriate for that, it was claustrophobic in there. He needed some breeze.
‘’Not that I’m getting any here,’’ he muttered with a sigh, his hand traveling through his blonde hair.
He looked over at the knife that lay by him- the same knife a Barn Owl had literally dropped by his feet before he could take on a Hellhound. Its pommel was of a metallic blue shade, with Greek letters carved into it. Its grip and cross-guard was quite basic, and both were black. The blade was the size of a handspan, not too big, not too small.
‘’Really creative…’’ he muttered with a wry laugh, but clutched onto the grip protectively. How much ever Michael disliked the appearance of the knife, it had saved his life. It was like a part of him now, and took it everywhere. It was helpful if you were bad with a bow and arrow, too.
Michael continued staring at the knife as he twirled it in his hand, and he suddenly jumped with surprise, when a voice broke his reverie.
‘’What are you up to?’'
Read more: http://campolympians.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=studentfiles&action=display&thread=1392#ixzz1M4cKsuHX