#which happens pretty often despite her reputation of being the Goddess of War

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello :D love the thenamesh Doctor au so I would like to make a request. Hope it’s ok :)

Thena hasn’t heard from Gil the whole day and is kinda worried that something happened. She calls him but he doesn’t pick up so she calls Kingo and she can hear the stress in his voice and loud noises in the background. They are helping with a mass crash but 2 towns away and Gil is helping them without a break and because his strength is very useful. Pretty late around 9pm he comes to the ER to visit Thena and bringing her lunch and to apologize to her for not getting in touch with her trough the day, looking very exhausted and looking like he came out from a crash himself.

Some soft and very sweet moment between them? Thena taking care of him this time! With a little kiss? You decide if on his cheek or lips 👀

Gil plunks himself onto the bench seat in the back of the ambulance with a groan/sigh. It's been a hell of a day, and it's not even over yet.

They got the call to help out with a crash outside of town. Massive multi-car pileup on the highway between cities, had multiple casualties, even more injuries. It was chaos, and the ambulances from the town closer to the site already had their hands full, as well as their ER.

Kingo is briefing the nurses on their run, updating their equipment stock and everything. Gil asked for a minute just to catch his breath. He's been dragging people out of cars and pulling doors open and using the jaws of life all afternoon.

He sighs as he pulls out his phone, seeing multiple texts from Thena that have gone unread. At least Kingo managed to communicate to Ajak what had kept them away for so long. But he was sure that she had been worried when she didn't hear from him by lunch.

His eyes drift to the mini-cooler beside him. He packed lunch for him and Thena today. He had been looking forward to enjoying them together.

"Hey."

Gil looks up, and there she is: his Thena. She leans off the door to the ambulance and steps up into the bus with him. Obviously she can read how tired he is. He smiles, "hey."

"Good day, today," she comments lightly as she sits beside him. He's leaning against the wall, slouching, hands in his hoodie pockets and legs stretched out. "Everyone who came in to us made it."

Gil nods. That is a good day, and he shouldn't take that for granted, remembering the panic he and Kingo had arrived to a long thirteen hours ago.

"Kingo was telling us about it," Thena continues to speak in her soft, velvety voice, soothing the aches that are rippling through his whole body. "You pulled more than a dozen people completely by yourself. I'm surprised you could lift your arms enough to drive back."

"Kingo drove the last two runs for us."

Thena smiles, running her hand through his hair. It helps to unwind the tension collecting in his forehead. "Good--you need some rest."

Gil sits up, just to pick up their lunches. Before he unwraps the bentos he looks at her, "tell me you ate something."

"We were busy here too," Thena shrugs, but laughs faintly at Gil's pout. "I'm kidding. We were busy, but I managed to grab a sandwich from the cafeteria between waves."

"Fine," Gil sighs. It's not ideal, but he will have to accept it. He opens up her bento first, "I made your favourites."

Thena lets him set the bento on her lap as he unwraps his own. Her hand runs over his bicep, so tired it practically hurts just to bend his arm. "Have I ever told you that you're too good to me?"

"All the time," Gil answers easily as he stuffs half his katsu into his mouth in one big bite.

Thena rolls her eyes at him, holding back some hair as she much more carefully takes a bite of her katsu sando (he always tries to make her food as handheld as possible).

"I was worried."

She says it between bites, the quiet stretching between them. He digs into his rice, ice cold but at least with a healthy dose of curry sauce on it from sitting under his cutlet all day.

"I know," he sighs, and he knows that she knows he knows. Thena isn't really chatty, and that's no different when it's through text. By the third text gone unread - let alone unanswered - he can imagine she was confused at the very least. "I was worried about you here."

She shrugs and picks up a cherry tomato. "Sometimes you get swamped. I did feel bad for the other boys running around. They have a lot more trouble with the heavy lifting than you do."

Gil chuckles, although his rice is starting to build up in his oesophagus. He's barely put his chopsticks down before a bottle of water appears in his view. "Thanks."

Thena lets him have as much as he wants, watching as he chugs half the bottle. She frowns. "Gil, you were out there way too long, today."

"It's okay," he excuses, and he knows he sounds like a hypocrite given how often he's insisting Thena take more breaks and go home earlier. "They needed me, Thena."

She looks down at her lap, and it's because she doesn't have an argument to that. Her fingers tap the side of the box, "...still."

Gil collects all of his pickled radish in one bite and crunches it loudly. And just like that, his lunch is done. But that's the job; he wraps his box up again, watching Thena pick up the second half of her sandwich. He tucks her hair back for her as she takes a bite. "How much longer, do you think?"

Thena lets out a long sigh through her nose as she chews. "It depends, but I don't think we'll be done any time soon. Even the batch that came in first is just getting moved upstairs for more serious cases. No one is walking away from this one unscathed."

Gil sighs as well. He also isn't off for another few hours, and that's if they don't have to work a sickening amount of overtime.

Thena holds up the sandwich for him. He shakes his head but she pushes it closer until she's practically pressing it into his lips. "I know you're still hungry."

"So I'll go to the machine," Gil pushes her hand back to her. "I made it for you."

"And it's delicious," she quickly concedes. "That's why me sharing it with you is so generous."

Gil's chest loosens in an instant as he lets out a real laugh from his belly. Thena is actually quite funny, even if she doesn't think she is. It's one of his favourite things - of a long, long list - about her.

Thena smiles as he bends his head down, taking a perfectly reasonable sized bite. "You should get to enjoy your own hard work. Especially because I'll never be able to return the favour."

Gil chuckles again as she holds up a piece of broccoli this time. Every time, he packs something green in hopes Thena will eat it. And every time, she finds a way to avoid it, or pretends she was full, or does what she's doing now: pawns it off on him.

Thena lets him take the entire thing from her hand in one bite, like a dog accepting a treat. She just laughs. "Maybe it's a good thing Kingo went to find his own food. He gets so jealous when you make lunch for me."

Gil shrugs, utterly without remorse for not cooking for his driving partner, "Kingo's a big boy, he can make his own lunch."

"Ajak will just give him some of hers," Thena shakes her head. "She spoils him."

Gil picks up a slice of carrot he cut into a heart, offering her half, "that's why I have to spoil you."

Thena accepts the bite from his hand this time, taking it delicately between her teeth.

Gil gives her a sympathetic look as her pager beeps on her hip. She lets out a sound that he thinks would make him wake out of a dead sleep. "They need you."

"It seems," Thena laments, handing him the last bite of her precious sandwich and brushing her hands off on her scrub pants. She turns to him before tearing herself away for who knows how many more hours. "Take care of yourself. If I don't see you before you're off, just text me when you get home?"

"Yes, dear," he promises with a grin, holding onto her last bite.

Thena hesitates, floating around in the threshold of the ambulance. She turns back to him, leaning over the end of the bench.

Gil blinks as Thena leans over, leaving a quick but unforgivably soft kiss on his cheek. Her lips feel like lying down on a soft pillow.

If she's thinking of saying something else, she tries to get it out, then gives up on it. She turns around and opens the back door, hopping out of the ambulance and trotting back into the ER bay.

Gil can't wipe the dopey smile off his face. He looks at the last little bite of sandwich she gave him, sighing as he replays the moment in his head over, and over, and over again.

No matter how hard any of his days are - or have been - they always seem to fade away as soon as he's with her. Today is no exception, and he's going to be thinking about how cute she looks when she's flustered, all night.

"Gil, will you quit making eyes at your sandwich and help me load this?"

Gil stuffs the sandwich back with one bite, dusting his hands off before standing to help Kingo with reloading a new stretcher.

[anjalsblog]

The Cruel Prince characters and their godly parents

These are my opinions(probably unpopular ones) but I did do additional research.Feel free to disagree,but please respect other people’s opinions.

Madoc-Ares (god of violent war)

I think this is pretty much obvious. Madoc is a redcap,which is a type of fairy that are especially violent and blood thirsty and value their success in battles.Unlike other faeries who avoid war at any cost(they are still fine with murder tho) he craves war and bloodshed.He is,as expected,extremely skilled with a sword and hard to beat in battle.While some may argue that he finds strategy important and that this is a quality of an Athena kid,he is much more famous for his physical fights and bloodshed(which he himself prefers) than for strategic part of battles and that is why he is a member of Cabin 5

Jude Duarte-Athena(goddess of wisdom and strategic war)

I believe Madoc and Jude are two sides of the same coin,just like Ares and Athena are in a way.Both are connected to war and murder,but while one relies more on pure violence and strength, the other prefers strategy and intelligence. Jude is exceptionally skilled with sword,but her true strength lies in her sneakiness and planning.She took down many of her enemies,who were physically stronger than her,simply by using her brain.She also knows how other people think and is quick to pick up their habits and use them for her advantage. That is why I believe she is perfect for Cabin 6

Oriana-Aphrodite (goddess of beauty and love)

This one is also pretty obvious. Oriana is elegant,beautiful and well-mannered,which are all qualities commonly associated with Aphrodite kids. Additionally,she is interested in fashion and dresses and was a courtier,which is an occupation I believe would attract many of Aphrodite children. While these characteristics may make her seem like a stereotype,she is not to be underestimated.She is ready to do anything for people she loves,including going against powerful people.It is undeniable she would fit right in Cabin 10 and she represents their soft and “perfect” side.

Taryn Duarte-Aphrodite(but with a twist)

This might seem obvious at first,considering Taryn also really cares about her looks and reputation and wants to fit in through marriage,but she is one character no one should underestimate.While obviously embodying all classical Aphrodite kid characteristics,I would say she is also extremely connected to Aphrodite Areia. This is the “original” version of Aphrodite,where she was,besides her most known attributes,also a goddess of war.I believe this is perfect for Taryn because it truly shows both of her sides.She is extremely sneaky and cunning,perhaps even more than her sister,but she is often underestimated because of her appearance(just like many other members of this cabin).To connect her to Aphrodite Areia,she is also very likely to use violence,just not as much as her family(she did,after all,murder her husband for disrespecting her).She is also very good at fighting,she can hold her own in sword fight against Jude despite being much less trained.She is also ambitious and always gets what she wants despite the consequences,which are both prominent characteristics of Aphrodite in myths.I believe Cabin 10 is absolutely right for her and that she shows all of often overlooked sides of her potential godly parent.

Vivi Duarte-Dionysus(god of wine)

This might seem odd at first,but it fits Vivi perfectly.She loves to party,has a wild side and is really cunning and stubborn,which can also be said for Dionysus from the myths.She also has a mischievous side and easily attracts people. We can also say that she is a caring sister to her siblings,but she is definitely not responsible.She also often uses her powers (gease) to mind control people (twins and her own girlfriend) which parallels Dionysus who is connected to insanity.I can see her feeling at home in Cabin 12.

Locke-Dionysus

He loves drama and making stories happen (aka manipulating people).He is also master of revels in Cardan’s court,which can be paralleled to Dionysus being patron of theater.He also indulges himself in wine and pleasure and even puts those things above his wife.While it might be weird to think of him and Vivi as siblings,they both fit in Cabin 12.

Nicassia-Poseidon(god of sea)

Is this cliche? Yes

Does it also make sense? Very much

Nicassia can literally control water since she does originate from merfolk kingdom and therefore she is connected to the sea.She also becomes this universe’s equivalent of sea queen at the end of book three.Tell me that doesn’t scream Poseidon.Now,to compare her to our favourite camper Percy,she would do anything for those she cares about and can often be quite impulsive.  Everyone form Cabin 3,say hi to your new half sister.

Cardan-Dionysus

Cardan is last because I had most trouble figuring out his godly parent.While it might seem obvious,I didn’t want to only “sort” him based on his love for wine. After some thinking,I realized they have many other things in common. Both have very powerful fathers but were very much underrated growing up.They also both had extremely traumatic childhood/teenage years and had to die at one point in their story and then be revived.They are both also not skilled at fighting but have their ways in tricking people.So,I think that Cabin 12 is right place for him after all.

[armsdealing]

/ NUEVA RELIGIÓN.

there is always something left to love. when people ask, that is what they say. there’s always something left to love, and it’s because of that love that they do the things they do. what makes them kill. what makes them punish and desecrate the holy alongside the mundane. it is not hatred, not revulsion, not fear, but something else, much purer than all those things combined, what turns the gears of this barbarity: a conviction that cuts through diamond. a deeper knowledge about the world and the beings that live in it, than could be found anywhere else. a willingness, stripped of all pride, to use this knowledge crucially against transgressors, against liars, against evil itself -- without any kind of differentiation between men and gods.

                                                                   ***

nueva religión is a verse subservient to elements already established in the otherworld verse and the nulliverse. it’s basically an au of an au with strong magical realism and urban fantasy influences, as well as a background in mythopoeia and crime. theology and mythology are central themes of the verse, so talks about religion are bound to show up frequently. naturally, there will be general, verse-wise trigger and content warnings regarding: blasphemy, sacrilege, and violence. there will be mentions of unsavory topics in this post like gang violence/crime, abuse and drugs, so it is best to stop reading from this point onward if mere mentions of these topics trigger you. mental health comes first, always. of course, all specific disturbances will be tagged in a post by post basis.

continue if you wish to read more about this verse, and the characters involved in it.

FUNDAMENTALS.

as prev. mentioned, this is an au of an au. it centers around the well-known (as far as my blog is concerned, at least) reyes family and their efforts running a gang that also happens to have unorthodox religious beliefs. in this verse, the reyes never went to new york between 1970 and 1990. instead, they decided to settle completely in florida in a neighborhood of miami-dade county called carrion. there, they would gain a foothold by waging war on neighborhood gangs until they achieved complete control of carrion. now the area is the base of operations for everything they do.

the characterizations in this verse are drastically different due to: 1. the different setting 2. the different background 3. the different tone -- and while characters like marcelo still retain several core characteristics, it’s best to assume the characters will not behave in the exact same way as they do in their canon verses, and they will not respond the same. it might be jarring. it’s meant to be jarring, as this verse intends to explore a ‘what if’ type of scenario for the reyes family if they still decided to be active in the criminal world.

as it’s been hinted, the reyes have an alternative religion, complete with a central deity and minor gods. this religion is completely fictional, as are their ritual practices, and they are not meant to be similar to any real life religion or belief system.  

the neighborhood of carrion is fictional too, and while certain historical elements might be taken directly from real life, i don’t mean to make accurate depictions of them (this especially concerns the cocaine boom of the 80s and colombia’s la violencia between the 40s and 50s). i also don’t plan to use any real life gangs/criminals in this verse, and i won’t acknowledge their existence. 

the verse sways between urban fantasy and magical realism. while the magic is very much real, the extent of it will be unfamiliar to most people, and a lot of things will be deliberately vague. things in carrion work a particular way, people work a certain way, and it’s not the same for other parts of miami. 

LOS DISCÍPULOS.

known by a variety of names (los dorados, los reales, la justicia, la realeza, or the kings of miami) los discipulos de la nueva religión is the gang the reyes run. consisting primarily of werecats and humans of magical predisposition, they’re infamous in miami for their extremely violent ways and their vicious grip on carrion. 

though during the first decade they were focused on drug distribution (and were, for several years, in full control of the colombia-caribbean islands-usa cocaine pipeline), over time they have downsized their drug operation.

nowadays, the kings manage protection rackets for businesses outside of carrion, simultaneously protecting their home neighborhood from the influence of other gangs -- completely for free. they also perform armed robbery and theft outside of miami and hijack trucks. 

perhaps the thing they are most known for, however, is their vigilantism. notably anti-cop, the kings have taken it upon themselves to impart justice in their neighborhood and surrounding areas. this effort, unlike the protection rackets, is completely free of cost. essentially, they will go after those they consider to have evaded justice: murderers, abusers, p*dophiles, and rapists. they will also make a point to go after corrupted authority figures in particular: police officers, priests, and the occasional politician. as a result, they have been linked to various assassinations, but nothing has ever been proven as of right now.

the kings also pump a lot of money into carrion and surrounding areas. their businesses include, but are not limited to: a tattoo parlor, a hair salon, a barbershop, and a bar. they also run a private shelter and organize many activities for the benefit of carrion’s citizens. because of this, they’re pretty beloved within their community and outside of it. the popular consensus seems to be that if you need help and ask the kings for it, you’re guaranteed to receive it. 

EL CULTO / THE BELIEFS.

though the gang came to be around the 80s officially, el culto has been going on for much longer, evolving steadily into what it is today. originally started in colombia, it centers around one main figure: la Justicia, a goddess thought to be responsible for keeping balance in the universe by killing what needs to be killed and subsequently consuming it -- something for which she was given the title of Divine Devorer (or Divina Devoradora). 

la justicia is the guiding figure of their lives, and believers kill for her (human sacrifices and offering dead bodies being quite common). she’s considered the agent of retribution, above all other gods and above all other things.

the worship maintains that all other gods might as well exist, but they too have to follow the laws of the universe, and if they break them, then they too will be consumed by la Justicia. in that way, the goddess acts as a check/balance for other pantheons. and they don’t necessarily have to like that (many, in fact, hate her) but there’s nothing they can do about it. 

the culto is notably anti-catholic/anti-christian god, and in a certain way started as a direct response to the forced christianization of south america that happened during colonial times. missionaries were often killed around this time, and many churches were destroyed. because of this tightly knit history with catholicism, it’s not rare to see worshippers of La Justicia “appropiating” catholic imagery in blatant and mocking ways. 

el culto’s other deities are La Muerte and La Locura, representing respectively the two other laws of the universe. if la Justicia is the agent of order, La Locura is the agent of disorder, and La Muerte (death) is the only certainty in the whole universe. despite their massive power, the are considered minor in the cult -- they’re seen as two natural influences that prefer not to directly involve themselves in the world, unlike La Justicia, which must be constantly pursued and taken care of.

CARRION, MIAMI.

bordered with allapattah to the west, wynwood to the east, and liberty city to the north, carrion is a neighborhood in miami with a large latino population that represents about 70% of its makeup. predominated by dominicans, puerto ricans and cubans as well as colombians and venezuelans, it’s primarily a low to working class neighborhood with a big textiles market. it’s also well known for it’s food distribution centers and mercados, which a wide variety of tropical fruits.

apart from all this, it happens to be the homebase of the kings, and where much of the action takes place. carrion has a reputation for being a strange neighborhood, where weird things often take place and “nobody notices”. despite being somewhat quiet, it boasts an alarmingly high number of unsolved disappearance cases, only rivalled by the number of unsolved murder cases. it was pretty active during the cocaine boon of the 80s and it’s rumored there’s 20 tons of cocaine hidden somewhere from those times in the neighborhood. as far fetched as that sounds, in 2016 someone found 100k worth of jewelry hidden inside their kitchen wall during a house renovation, so -- let’s just say nothing is out of the question when it comes to carrion. 

CHARACTERS INVOLVED WITH THE VERSE.

MARCELO REYES

ALBA REYES

SAUL BAUTISTA

ELIÁN VALENCIANO

CAMILA VALENCIANO

JOAQUÍN

LEON ROMERO

[argorpg-blog]

CONGRATULATIONS and welcome to the crew of the Argo II, ROSE! The Gods have spoken: welcome aboard AMARUS, known as KIT ALEXANDER, with a faceclaim of AVAN JOGIA. Please take a look at our checklist, and send in your account in the next 24 hours.

ADMIN NOTES: Rose! The amount of detail and thought you put into your app was just astounding. Those little bits of color and extra thought (”plum carpet”!!) managed to make Kit a three dimensional, complex character to fall in love with. We were both absolutely blown away by the way you managed to convey his bitterness and complication with the gods without making it seem too overdone. We love Kit, and we’re excited to see him here!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME/ALIAS: Rose AGE, TIMEZONE, PRONOUNS: 20, GMT, she/her ACTIVITY  & EXTRAS: I’m a university student who also works part-time, so I’m a busy bee lol. But I always find time to write so I should be around lurking pretty much always, and if not here for replies everyday, then every other day or so. Also I’ve kinda fallen in love with this rp, you’ve done a fantastic job.

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED SKELETON: Amarus CHARACTER NAME: Kit Alexander AGE & GENDER: 25, cismale, he/him FACECLAIM: Avan Jogia, Matthew Daddario, Ezra Miller

BIOGRAPHY:

Fortune favored the bold. Your father might have been bold once- must have been to have endeared himself to a deathless goddess who walked the world with wind in her hair, dispensing luck with a brush of her fingers and a heady smile. But you knew him in the aftermath of that intoxication. Luck left your father, but he’d already fallen headfirst into her thrall. Your earliest memories are of sitting at your father’s feet, halfway under the table, tiny fists clenched around a toy car as men who seemed larger than life roared at a television across the room, money changing hands. The plum colored carpeting of your living room caught the wheels of your car, but the tile of the place where your father leaned over the counter and wrote checks in his tightly looping script was better, even though you were told off when the toy’s tiny plastic wheels left marks on the walls. Your father would strap you into the car, pressing a kiss on the top of your head and whispering that you were his lucky charm.

School was when you first discovered other children. Before then it had been you and your father, the men who came to the little home you shared to yell as if the horses, or dogs, or baseball players who flickered on the tv could hear, and grumble as bills were passed across the table, the men who looked over their counters to smile down at you, asking you questions as you slipped to safety behind your father’s legs. You didn’t know how other kids worked, didn’t know the right things to say or do. It didn’t help that your father’s luck, a fickle, nebulous thing, swung your lives between poverty and excess with seemingly no rhyme or reason. Children weren’t kind to silent little boys who came to school in threadbare clothes but with the newest gameboy tucked in their bags, more inclined to speak in whispers to adults than learn the latest skipping game than dominated the playground. Teachers were at a loss as to what to do with little boys who seemed to take innately to math- reeling off probability as if was second nature- but hardly spoke to anyone.

In a life dictated by your father’s fortune, the infectious joy of his successes buoyed you between the dark periods when a gamble didn’t go his way. Being someone’s lucky charm only earns you praise until their luck fails. Betting evolved from a hobby, a diversion, to an occupation by the time you were old enough to compare your life to those of your classmates and find it lacking. Maybe that was why your father’s fortune took a sharp turn for the worse when you were eight, and watching mothers pick up their children as you sat in front of school, heart leaping every time you thought you saw your father’s car. A string of losses led to the loss of the house with the plum carpet, the loss of the comforting weight of your father’s hand on your head, the whispered assertion that you were his joy, his happiness, his lucky charm.

But fortune hadn’t forsaken all those around you. A girl who shared her snack with you did a perfect cartwheel at recess. The cat who lived in the apartment next to the one you and you father had eventually left the back of the car for narrowly avoided the wheels of a speeding truck as it sauntered off, leaving you wide-eyed from where you had been crouched in the gutter, petting it. While you sat, swinging your legs, at the kitchen table of the old lady who lived downstairs and tutted until you agreed to come in for a slice of cake, she found her wedding ring down the back of a chair. It had been lost for years. She’d cried, pulled you into a hug, called you lucky. You’d smiled, shoveled the rest of the cake into your mouth, turned tail and ran.

When you were fourteen, limbs made to look even ganglier by clothing that was inevitably too short, you decided that the universe demanded balance and you were its scapegoat. A turn of good luck for those around you was more often than not your misfortune. Even when you saw the first monster, your voice breaking around a scream at the eyes and the teeth and the smile, sprinting down the road, weaving around obstacles, you pushed against a man, who stumbled away and out of the path of a bucket of paint falling from a window a level above the sidewalk. He was saved a nasty concussion, at the very least, but you were slowed by the collision. Within the block the thing had you in it’s claws, fingers boring punctures into your arm, bruises blooming almost immediately. You’d wiggled free, loosing your jacket as you kicked and writhed, and when you fell hard back to the ground it might have been luck that put a brick within arm’s reach. Might have been luck that saw the brick’s arching trajectory straight into the creature’s yellow eye. But it just as easily could’ve been coincidence, and the good aim that had you picked early in P.E. despite your reputation as a pariah. You didn’t put much stock in luck, anyway.

Your father noticed the loss of the jacket more than the blood that stained your sleeve, and the bruises that steadily turned purple, then green, then yellow. You grew even warier than you had been, keeping your back to walls and keeping to yourself. It didn’t help. The next monster chased you for further than you had ever run, pushed you out into the edges of the city where you passed empty storefronts without really seeing them. By the time you stopped running, when you couldn’t have run any more, the monster was gone- where and since when you couldn’t have guessed. It was there, slumped against the wall of an abandoned strip mall full of shattered glass and trash trapped in dying weeds, that your mother came to you for the first time.

Fortuna smiled, and you were caught between laughing and crying, between confusion and anger, dark humor and utter exhaustion.

Going to Lupa was a better alternative than continuing to try your luck with your father, who had increasingly begun to pretend you didn’t exist. Camp Jupiter, where you weren’t chased by monsters and disappointment, was better than peeling linoleum and empty stares. The Romans welcomed you with open arms- a son of Fortuna was a good sign, a good addition to any legion, a source from which to take good favor as if it were nothing. When war came knocking, and the demigods stormed Mount Othrys like so many child soldiers, you were there. You’d thrown yourself into training, trying to dig out a place for yourself by your own merit, but you’d never be as gifted with a sword as a child of Mars, as tactically minded as one of Minerva. When you were there at the defeat of Krios, watching people you’d known for years be wounded, die, you were there as a lucky charm.

Your mother was beloved, feasts were held for her, and yet when you looked at the tattoo that held her symbol it was with a resentment that was unshakable. As the lines under your tattoo signifying your years in the legion multiplied, you surrounded them with art snaking up and down your arms that had nothing to do with your mother or the other gods and goddesses whose children were nothing but pawns in a greater game. You smothered the implication of your loyalty with flowers and vines, animals and symbols. But you didn’t bother to smother your cynicism. And all people saw was the outstretched, kind hand of luck regardless.

FATAL FLAW/DEFINING CHARACTERISTIC:

Amarus- bitter

Kit has never been shy about his distrust of the gods. As far as he’s concerned, the entire pantheon is full of dysfunctional and manipulative egotists, and the Romans are tragically deluded in their devotion. Even before he discovered the truth of his parentage and all that that meant, he was already skeptical of luck- the thing that just so happened to be his birthright, and utterly inescapable. That his childhood was so consumed by the fickleness of fortune made him bitter from the start- when he arrived at Camp Jupiter as a long-legged fourteen year old it was with tired eyes and a prematurely jaded attitude.

His bitterness made him ambivalent for years, but since he’s gotten older it’s morphed into something harder. To let himself be buffeted around by the whims of his mother and the rest of the gods and goddesses is to let them win. Kit is no optimist, but he’s fighting for something better regardless of the fact that losing seems inevitable. He’s driven by resentment, and it could very easily be his downfall.

Entwined as his future is with the gods and goddesses as well as his fellow demigods, it’s only a matter of time that his derision of the divine sparks with someone’s quick temper. His distrust is so invasive that he’s wary of any help the gods try to extend to anyone, regardless of the situation. In terms of character growth and development, this could definitely change, but his reasons for accepting the call to arms in this quest are decidedly not born of any loyalty to his mother.  

EXTRAS:

cultivated contention: I’d like to explore Kit’s interactions with the Greek demigods relating to the feud and separation that the gods created between the two groups. For him, it’s just another in a string of manipulations and lies coming from the careless pantheon, it’ll be interesting to see how he responds to this once his knee-jerk reaction to be friendly with the Greeks just to spite the gods wanes.

fundamental differences: In a world so concentrated in the godly, Kit defines himself through his distrust of the gods. I’d like to see him befriending someone who’s on this quest for all the right reasons despite this completely different worldview.

in the end, all there is is luck: Exploring Kit’s response to any sort of intervention or aid from his mother would be very interesting. Depending on the situation it could be philosophy-shifting.

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6 royal weddings from history that blow Harry and Meghan's out of the water

Sure, Harry and Meghan's wedding looks fun, but when you compare it to what came before it's basically just tea and biscuits in a rec-centre.

SEE ALSO: The acting roles of Meghan Markle before her royal engagement

History is littered with royal weddings full of violence, opulence, drunkenness and the occasional naked dude. Here for your enjoyment are just a few examples.

1. Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou, "the original Harry and Meg" (1445)

Medieval royal weddings really pulled out all the stops, and historian Dr James Clark described the marriage of Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou to Mashable as "the original medieval Harry and Meg." This is because Clark thinks Margaret was the first royal bride to be the subject of public discussion, which — while commonplace today — was unusual 500 years ago.

"She was described in almost tabloid terms," said Clark. Apparently she was called "a good-looking and well-developed girl," and "mature and ripe" despite being 23, and "a most handsome woman, although somewhat dark." Clark reads "somewhat dark" as code for "foreign-looking."

Like Meghan, Margaret was a foreign bride, but in 1445 this had much more significance. To the people of medieval Britain, the French princess was a symbol of peace after "100 years of on-off wars with the French" according to Clark. So it was a pretty big deal.

A royal wedding was a way more public affair back in the day. The public were able to mingle with the royal retinue, and were even allowed to touch them — clapping the couple on the back to wish them all the best. 

To top it off, red and white wine replaced the city's drinking water to celebrate the occasion, actually spurting out of public fountains. A stark contrast from Harry and Meghan's wedding where guests were told to bring their own lunch.

2. Attila the Hun dies of a nosebleed at his own wedding (453 AD)

Attila the Hun, a.k.a. "The Scourge of God," a.k.a. the guy who makes Khal Drogo look like a member of Greenpeace, was a pretty fearsome guy. Leader of the nomadic Hun armies, he razed whole cities to the ground. But in the end he was taken down not in battle or by a Drogo-style duel, but by a simple nosebleed.

Attila's death, like a lot of history, is shrouded in a healthy dose of mystery. There are a few different versions of it, but they all agree that the warlord died on his wedding night. Some accounts say he died of a nosebleed and choked on his own blood, others that he was murdered, or that his bout of heavy drinking led to internal bleeding.

Remind you of anyone?

3. Catherine of Aragon and Prince Arthur go full extra (1501)

Catherine of Aragon was famous for being the first wife of Henry "Commitmentphobe" Tudor, but first she was married to Henry's older brother, Prince Arthur. 

They married when Arthur was just 15, but he died shortly after. After Arthur's death she was wed to Henry. Imagine if William died and Harry just swooped in and married Kate. Scandalous stuff, but in the 16th century it was just the practical thing to do.

For the actual ceremony Catherine's route to the church was paved with blue carpet, and she and young Henry wore matching outfits of silver embroidered with gold roses, while Prince Arthur wore pure white satin. The west door of the church also sported a good old fashioned wine fountain. Because why fix what ain't broke?

Catherine of Aragon, queen of the party.

Image: National Portrait Gallery London/wikimedia commons

Young Henry even led the wedding procession unaccompanied through London, aged only ten-years-old. You certainly wouldn't catch Prince George doing that today, but to be fair he is only four.

Catherine's wedding to Arthur was a spectacle to put the Met Gala to shame. Catherine arrived at the gates of the city riding a mule, and large swathes of London were transformed into an allegorical procession in which Catherine was cast as a star ascending into the heavens. 

4. Napoleon and Josephine's ridiculously low-key wedding (1796)

Napoleon Bonaparte and his wife Josephine may have been regular citizens when they got married, but they ended up being Emperor and Empress of France, so they're getting a name-check.

According to Professor Martyn Bennett, Napoleon's wedding to Josephine was actually set up by Josephine's lover Paul Barras who wanted to get rid of her.

"Josephine had been [Barras'] mistress and effectively he was passing her on," Bennett told Mashable. While Bonaparte was besotted with her, for Josephine it was very much a marriage of convenience. The pair both lied about their age in the run up, both claiming to be 28 even though Napoleon was actually 26 and Josephine 32.

"Sorry babe, I was busy planning the invasion of Italy."

Image: national gallery of art/wikimedia commons

Being infatuated with his bride didn't stop Napoleon turning up a whole three hours late and shabbily dressed to his own wedding. "The wedding was supposed to happen at 7PM," said Bennett, "but he turned up at about ten." Apparently he'd been planning the invasion of Italy and lost track of the time. 

The two were (eventually) married in a candle-lit room on the Rue D'Antin, with a just few witnesses and the mayor present. Least glam imperial wedding ever.

Being infatuated with his bride didn't stop Napoleon turning up a whole three hours late and shabbily dressed to his own wedding. "The wedding was supposed to happen at 7PM," said Bennett, "but he turned up at about ten." Apparently he'd been planning the invasion of Italy and lost track of the time.  

The two were (eventually) married in a candle-lit room on the Rue D'Antin, with a just few witnesses and the mayor present. Least glam imperial wedding ever.

5. The Emperor Augustus and Livia a.k.a. the ultimate power couple (36 BC)

The first emperor of Rome Augustus (born Octavian) had a few marriages before settling down with Livia.

The pair were both married when they met, and Livia was heavily pregnant. This didn't stop them, however. Augustus promptly ditched his wife Scribonia, and Livia's husband was persuaded (or perhaps forced) to divorce her. The same husband-turned-baby-daddy gave her away at her wedding to Augustus. Super amicable break-up, right? Or maybe just a super awkward wedding ceremony...

Not much more is known about the celebrations themselves, but it seems they featured naked dudes just hanging out, because according to Roman chronicler Cassius Dio, "one of the prattling boys, such as the women keep about them for their amusement, naked as a rule," made an ill-judged joke about Livia's previous husband being in attendance. Learn to read the room, naked guy.

Livia has often been portrayed as political force of nature, not to mention a poisoner. Famous historian Robert Graves depicted her as having poisoned her husband Augustus after 52 years of marriage to ensure her son Tiberius became Emperor, but historians like Matthew Dennison dismiss this view of her as the result of sexist propaganda. 

While we will never know for certain whether she poisoned people, what is certain is that Livia's descendents — not Augustus' — became Emperors, and was turned into an actual goddess after her death. There's little denying, she was one powerful lady.

6. George IV gets married while totally wasted (1795)

Prince George was the son of King George III, who you may remember from such hits as the American War of Independence, or more recently the musical Hamilton.

Prince George went on to become King George IV, and he had a reputation as a hedonist and a tearaway. This is perhaps epitomised by his wedding to his cousin Princess Caroline of Brunswick. 

"On the day itself, George turned up to the wedding extremely drunk," Dr Kate Lister, curator of the Whores of Yore Twitter account, told Mashable. "He spent most of his wedding night passed out on the floor."

Classy. Here's hoping our own Prince George doesn't get any ideas. Once again, he is only four.

WATCH: The acting roles of Meghan Markle before her royal engagement