[Other OPEN] Trials of Olympus [IC]

Three Fates School for Troubled Youth was where the fates currently spent most of their time. Not because they loved the job, or even because they wanted to protect demigods, but because one particular group of demigods was important to a prophecy that could make or break their fate, literally.

An empire crumbles, darkness consumes
as three ancient relics feed on the fumes.
Their power is great, but their price is heavy.
A group of friends must have them ready.
An ancient deity will give rise to a daughter or son
whose fate is entwined with that of another one.
If these children fail to succeed,
all of the world can never be freed.
​

The prophecy was well known by everyone in camp, as well as most gods and monsters. But the fates had a better knowledge of who these children were, as their threads of fate had already been entwined since birth. School was starting today, and the fates needed to help the children as much as they could before their combined presence attracted some less than welcome visitors.

The gates were open, and the only thing left was to wait for the students to enter the school and find their teacher. They had most likely gotten their schedules in the mail, along with a map of the school. They simply needed to get to the room, which was on the second floor, and then the fates could begin their orientation meetings.

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Rules:

1: Follow the general RP rules.
2: This is rated [T] so make sure your posts adhere to that
3: If you have any issues talk to me and I'll try to resolve them as quickly as possible
4: Try to stay active in the roleplay, and if you don't think you're going to continue, let me know. It's easier to know whether I can open up new slots when people tell me whether they're still interested or not.
5: Be respectful to other players and have fun!

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Map of Camp Half-blood:

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Locations:

The Cabins-

A circle of cabins, each one dedicated to a specific god or godess. The children of the god or godess that the cabin is dedicated to will live inside the cabin for their entire stay at camp. Demigods that haven't been claimed by their parent will stay in the Hermes cabin until claimed. (All characters will start out unclaimed, and being claimed will be done in the roleplay)

The Big House-

Contrary to the name, this is not a jail. It is in fact the meeting place of the leaders of camp, as well as a place where quests are planned. Inside the attic the house holds an even more unique secret, as it is home to the Oracle of Delphi who gives prophecies to potential quest candidates.

The Climbing Wall-

Just what you'd think. It's a large wall with climbing holds that helps demigods train. Oh, and it also spews lava if you take too long. But that was pretty obvious, right?

Camp Borders-

The magical barrier that keeps out mortals, monsters, and bad weather. Any of those three things can enter through the barrier with permission from someone inside.

Dining Pavilion-

Basically the mess hall, but fancier and outside. The pavilion has a table for each cabin. Campers are forbidden from sitting at a table that is not their cabin's table.

The Stables-

It's where the horses and pegasi are kept. That's pretty much it.

The Armory-

Where everyone except the Hephaestus cabin gets their weapons.

The Forge-

The Hephaestus cabin makes their own weapons and gadgets here.

The Woods-

Monsters are kept stocked in the woods for practice hunting, and the local dryads help keep the forest growing and healthy. Every Friday the campers host a game of capture the flag, which isn't as innocent as it sounds. They play with actual weapons and aim to incapacitate their enemies and literally capture the enemies flag and bring it back into friendly territory.

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Michael's new home wasn't much more than the attic of an abandoned factory, but his mother seemed to prefer it over their last home so he pretended like he was content. He never understood why she insisted that they never tie themselves down in one place for too long. For once he just wanted to make a friend that he knew he wouldn't have to abandon in a few months.

He lay down what little belongings he had onto his sleeping bag, and then went through them to make sure he hadn't broken anything during the move. He had a few things of little value, but they were the only things he had, so he kept them in good shape. A few small figurines of various nightmarish monsters were the only toys he had as a child, and honestly some of them were more creepy than fun. But his mother told him they were a gift from his dad, which was all she'd really say about him, so he held on to them tight out of fear that he'd lose the only link he had to his father.

It was probably too early in the morning to wake his mother, as she most likely just went to sleep a few hours before after working a night shift at the nearest gas station. He shuffled down to the factory floor, and grabbed the clothes his mother had washed for him before going to sleep. He slid on the clothes, the same black shirt, black pants, and black socks he always wore, slid on his black shes, and then walked out the door, careful to shut it behind him and lock it with a small combination lock.

He strolled down the alleyways, the street vendors slowly opening up shop, and eyed a specific cart that was selling waffles. He was careful not to look too long, as it'd be suspicious when a waffle went missing, and closed in on his target. He watched as two little boys bickered nearby, and timed his walk to match up with the exact moment they were about to crash into the man's cart. 3, 2, 1, the boys smashed into the vendor. Michael ran by and snagged a handful of waffle, and ran as far away as he could. When he reached the corner he ducked into a smaller alleyway, and waited for his partners in crime, literally, to show up for their share.

"I thought you said I was going to get to push you over this time!"

"Of course you thought that, but it was my turn!"

"No it wasn't!"

"Was too!"

Michael laughed. Sometimes he wondered if he even needed to bribe the boys to help him, they'd probably end up crashing into a cart anyway if he let them be. But if he didn't help them they probably wouldn't get fed until dinner, and eating one meal a day is definately not healthy for two boys their age.

"Michael!" The older one yelled when he came into view. "How much did you get?"

"Oh, one or two of em."

"Far out!"

He handed the two boys each a half of waffle, and stuffed the last piece in his mouth. Then, he waved goodbye and went on his way. Off to school, the first day was always the hardest.

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Michael wandered lazily down the street. No matter what he did he couldn't stop thinking about how this new school would react to him. Would they be closer to his personality considering it was a school built for troublemakers like him? Or would it be full of idiotic brutes that would undoubtedly try to bash his head in? He noticed the cool fall breeze had started to pick up a bit, wind whipping through his jet black hair. He stopped for a moment, sure that he had seen something move in the corner of his eye. He felt a chill, and then continued walking forward. Another movement.

"Hello? Show yourself!" he demanded

The response was a loud growl and the sound of claws on cement. One second he was on his way to school, the next he was surrounded by a pack of stray dogs.

"Why does this always happen? I hate dogs."

He took a step forward, holding the handle of a kitchen knife he had hidden in the side of his bag, and readied for the dogs to attack. This happened to him more than he'd like to admit, and he was growing pretty tired of it. The odd thing is that it seemed to be the same dogs every time, even though he killed them multiple times before. Each attack was a few weeks apart, but always the same.

The lead dog lunged at him, which he was ready for and dodged easily, however the second dog's attack was new. It's teeth dug into his heel, and he fell backwards. He kicked his feet, slamming them into the dog's muzzle, and spun around to face the lead dog again. The others closed in, but the leader barked at them and they backed away. He wanted the kill all to himself. Unfortunately for him, Michael wasn't going down so easy. He swung the knife at the dog, slicing at his face, and when the dog reeled back in pain, he quickly dispatched it, and then watched as the rest of the dogs scattered.

He sat down, exhausted and injured. He pried his shoe off, and stared at the blood dripping from his foot. "What do I do now?" he mumbled under his breath. He had a pretty bad bite to his heel, and the pain of walking on it was excruciating. He stood up on one foot, and limped down the street to the school entrance.

When he reached the entrance, he pushed open the doors, shuffled over to a bench, and then sat down and pulled out his map of the school, tears dripping down his face. He really hoped the school nurse was close by, and good at their job.
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The map wasn't exactly the most detailed thing in the world. Well, part of that may have been due to the slight spinning of Michael's vision due to loss of blood. But no matter how difficult it was he needed to get to the nurse's office and get help. Out of the corner of his eye, or maybe the middle, he wasn't entirely sure, someone ran up to him. At first he was relieved that he'd have help, then he noticed that the guy helping him was one of those pretty-boy jocks who always teased him at his other schools. He wasn't going to be friendly to someone like that. Last time one of them tried to be friends with him it ended up just being a dare and they ditched him the next day, obviously this one was probably the same case.

"Are you okay?" the boy asked.

"Hmph" he grunted.

"Do you need help? Do you need me to take you to the nurse?" the boy asked again.

He responded with another grunt before the boy sat down next to him and then helped him up. Maybe this one wasn't that bad. They started walking down the hall, and a crowd of people started to gather around them. Michael wasn't exactly completely awake and functioning properly, but he still noticed that some of the kids were pointing behind them and yelling something about going the wrong way. Apparently this jerk was trying to let him bleed out all over the floor.

He didn't remember much after that. All he could really recall was being swept off his feet onto a gurney and being sent on his way, back in the other direction, to the nurse's office. As the world faded to black all he could think about was that stupid jock's face. He was probably gloating now. "I helped kill the weirdo before he could funk up our school!" He really hated jocks. They always got what they wanted and nobody ever questioned them. Most of them also came from rich parents that gave them whatever they wanted on a whim while Michael's mother worked her butt of and still can't bring in enough money for them to live legally in a building.

His thoughts were interrupted when he finally lost consciousness.

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"I'm never going to get rid of you am I?" Sirus grunted as he opened his bedroom door and there was the ever familiar face of his ghostly best friend and bodygaurd Artemis Perceus Heracu Les, the third of his name and slayer of the Minotaur, or Arty as Sirus preffered to call him.

"Nope. You got your bag all packed? Made sure the knife is hidden in the secret pocket?" Arty called, his ghostly form causing the temperture in the room to drop several degrees.

The knife, a gift from Sirus' father that his mother had been instructed to give him on his tenth birthday, was a small dagger with a black metal blade with a crimson trim, the guard and pommel made of the bones of what Sirus hoped were an animal.

"Yes yes yes, its hidden and even if they search the bag I doubt they'll find it. Mums an excellent tailor, her stitching is almost magical." Sirus laughed as he slung the leather satchel over his shoulder.

"Good. Last thing I want is you getting attacked while you're at what these strange people call a school. I don't understand how they don't even train you to use a weapon, how is a man supposed to protect himself?" Arty groaned, once again complaining about the modern worlds lack of what he perceived as practicality.

Sirus didn't bother trying to explain things to the ghostly young man, he simply slid down the stairs, quite litterally, and caught the piece of toast that his mother tossed him.

"Have a good day honey!" The blonde woman in a waitress outfit with the beehive hair style called from the kitchen.

"You too mum, don't forget to tell that greasy pig to give you a raise already." Sirus replied through a mouthful of toast, grinning as he heard his mother howl with laughter in the other room.

As he opened the front door, he saw several ghostly forms standing around in their lawn. "Good luck Sirus" They all cried and cheered as he walked by.

"They're acting like I'm not coming back or something." The boy laughed as he and Arty walked past the crowd of ghosts gathered to see him off.

Arty didn't respond, which was unusual for him, however the young boy didn't bother pestering the ghost for answers. Arty had been around since Sirus was a baby, he was actually the first ghost Sirus remembered seeing.

"Hold." Arty growled, putting a hand out, accidentally sticking it through the young mans abdomen. Sirus quickly stepped back and looked around to try and figure out what had his ghostly companion spooked. "There." Arty said, pointing his finger towards an absurdly large bird soaring overhead. "I'll distract it, you just get yourself to the school." Arty whispered as he slowly crept up a nearby fire escape.

"Arty!" Sirus hissed as he followed his ghostly friend onto the roof of the building. The ghostly boy grunted in protest but was quickly silenced as he watched the dark haired boy throw himself onto the roof. The metallic bird cawwed as it saw its prey, and it spread its wings wide revealing the set of razor sharp feathers.

"I hope those hours of sparring with you actually payed off. Your dad is going to kill me if you die." Arty muttered, pulling a ghostly bow off of his back.

"Wait what?" Sirus asked, surprised to suddenly hear his friend mention his father, however he didn't have time to question him, because as they spoke the metal bird dived down and tore through the concrete roof of the building like it was butter.

As the bird neared them, Sirus readied his dagger and sliced at the bird, the blade easily carving a chunk of the metal away from the birds head.

Arty had notched an arrow and by the time Sirus dagger left the birds face, a strangely solid ghost arrow was embedded in the creatures wing. The creature roared in pain as a thick oily liquid seeped from its wounds as it flapped its metallic wings and took to the sky, circling the building.

"Watch out its going to-" Arty attempted to shout.

The bird flapped its wings once more, this time launching several metal feathers at Sirus who was impaled by two of them through his arm.

"Son of a-" Sirus cried as he almost dropped his knife from the unearthly amount of pain that the two razor sharp feathers were causing.

"They're coated in a poison that caused the nerves to react more fiercly, you have to tough it out untill we kill this thing!" Arty called, firing another arrow into the creature, this one penetrating somewhere in its chest.

"Easy for you to say." Sirus grunted as he swapped his knife into his left hand. He had been tempted to pull the razor feathers out, but they would have likely torn apart his one good hand, and with no way apply pressure to the wound while fighting it was wiser to leave them be, despite how much the pain was driving him insane.

Another cry from the bird signaled another flurry of feathers raining down upon them, but this time Sirus was preppared and he dove behind an air conditioning unit as the feathers tore into the spot where he had been standing. Twang! Another ghostly arrow penetrated into the bird.

"Its coming down for another flyby! Nows your chance!" Arty cried out.

The bird soared past Sirus' hiding spot and took a large chunk of the air conditioner with it. It landed on the roof and raised its wings and cried out wildly and thats when Sirus took his shot. Reacting on pure instinct his arm flew forward, sending the dagger hurtling through the air and implanting itself in the metal birds neck. Thick black oil spilled from the wound as the bird dissolved into a golden mist that seemed to be absorbed into the blade, which fell to the ground harmlessly.

It was at that point that Sirus blacked out from the pain.

---

Sirus awoke to Arty leaning over him. Well it looked like Arty, but significantly less... ghostly. The ghost had somehow gained a body. He wasn't alive, Sirus could tell that much just by looking at him. He lacked a certain aura that the living had, but other than that he appeared rather normal. He was even wearing some of Sirus clothes and not his usual greek toga.

"What happened?" Sirus mumbled groggily. His arm brushed against the leather seat of the cab he was in and he whinced in pain as pressure pressed onto the wound.

"I pulled them out and bandaged the wound, got you a spare hoody to cover the wounds but you'll have to be careful not to aggrivate them. If anybody asks, just tell them it was a knife fight. Anyway, you're almost late, you better get going!" Arty said, ignoring the boys questions.

"Late for wha-" Sirus suddenly noticed the sound of people talking outside of the car. He leaned up and looked outside the window to see a large sign with the words "Three fates school for troubled youth." Written on it in large letters.

"But how- why-" Sirus asked more confused than ever.

"Just get out already before you're late, I need to get this car back before somebody notices its gone." Arty sighed turning the keys in the engine.

"You stole a car?! More importantly when did you learn to drive?!" Sirus groaned as he opened his door.

"Oh, I watched your mum do it, and you were bleeding and unconscious and I needed to get you to school, YES I STOLE A CAR." Arty said as he shoved Sirus out of the car and closed the door before pulling away leaving the dumbfounded boy standing in the parket lot with his bandaged arm and an orange hoody half hanging out of his bag.

"What a way to start the day..." Sirus grunted in bewilderment.
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Michael's shoes squeaked on the slick floors as he barreled through the halls, knocking against kids walking casually to class. He had to find his stuff before someone decides to steal it. He passed by classroom upon classroom until he passed by a window. Wait a minute, he thought, I'm on the second floor now! As soon as he realized his mistake, he ran down the nearest staircase, and then proceeded to sprint through the first floor hallways. He almost missed it, but spotted his stuff just in time, skidding to a stop.

He walked over to the bench he had been sitting on to rest his injured foot. His bag was still flung over to the side, and he happily picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. He then noticed that he wasn't wearing one shoe, and quickly noticed the bloody object on the floor. He picked it up and flung it into a trash can, and then pulled out his map. Now, which way to class?

After a while he finally gave up with the map and asked one of the teachers in a nearby classroom where the room was. It took him a little while to get there, but he finally made it, only to find that the teacher wasn't there yet. It turns out Michael wasn't late, although if the teacher didn't get here soon, he would be.

Just as he was about to go sit down he heard a loud and almost angry voice behind him. "Are you gonna take a seat, or stand there on yer feet all day?" He turned, and then immediately regretted it. The teacher was a large man with an abnormal amount of body hair and breath that smelled like rotting meat. Michael instinctively gagged at the smell, earning a snarl from the teacher. "Sit. Down. Now." the man growled. Michael decided not to test this man's temper. He was scary enough as he was. He quickly stumbled into a seat, and the man took a seat at his desk in the front of the room. He then had to stand back up when the phone rang. As soon as the person on the other end finished speaking he hung up and then sat back down. "Mitchel Wade to the principals' office." he stated before plopping his bare, hairy feet on the top of his desk.

"Michael Wayne?"

"That's what I said. Mitchel Wade." he replied, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.

I wonder what they want. he thought. He was about to ask where the office was, when he noticed it was right across the hall. He walked over to the door, turned the knob, and pushed the door open. He was instantly greeted by a short, plump lady's friendly voice. "Hello! Greetings! Welcome!"

"Stop being so excited! You'll be worn out by the time we get through the whole class!" a thin, frail hunchbacked woman scolded the one who welcomed him. It was then that he noticed that the two arguing had grey eyes that were glassed over, and neither of them looked at each other while talking. They were blind. The one in the center, an average looking old woman, looked at him and motioned to a chair. "Please, sit. We have many questions for you." He obeyed, sitting in a chair that was uncomfortably stiff to say the least. "We have records of you attacking you neighbors' dogs on numerous occasions, as well as the events continuing to happen after multiple moves to new homes." the way she said it implied that she expected a response.

"Well, first of all the dogs attacked me, and second of all those records were sealed by the police department last time a nosy school official tried to blackmail me with them."

The woman continued. "We here at Three Fates strive for the best learning environment for our students, and you seem to have a streak for breaking that kind of atmosphere." Before he could say anything she began to speak again. "However, we understand that many of these issues were out of your control. Tell me, have you ever experienced anything else strange?"

"Other than nosy principals who seem to know more about my life than they should? Can't say I have." he lied.

"Nothing like terrible nightmares or," she paused, "any mysterious appendages sprouting out of your back?"

"Did you just ask me if I have wings? What kind of funky creature do you think I am? I'm leaving!"

"I see. Mark down that he was uncooperative, and then check the 'undeveloped' box on the bottom" she instructed one of the blind ladies, who began to complain about not being able to see where the box was.

"What do you mean 'undeveloped?'" he questioned.

"Well, we might have been able to be more transparent had you cooperated. Next time, then." she waved him out of the room.

"Send one of your wonderfully 'groovy' friends in when you return!" the plump lady said enthusiastically.

When he returned to the room he told anyone who was listening, "They said they wanted someone else to go, apparently they want to talk to everyone in the class." Then he sat down in his seat, and waited for class to start.

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