Ella O'Brady
Demigod
Daughter of Hermes
/nothing's ever built to last.
Posts: 9
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Post by Ella O'Brady on May 11, 2011 21:33:00 GMT -7
This was it. This was the first class Ella was ever going to teach, as an art teacher. Out of all the places it could be held, she chose the amphitheater. Anyone was welcome to the class, and all she could hope for was that people would come. Earlier in the morning, she had set up three giant canvases, all with art that she had done herself that night. It was of her side of Brooklyn. Except, more apocalyptic, more… hopeless. Standing in front of it, wearing a worn down leather jacket, jeans, tank top and a pair of the rattest converse, all splattered with paint, long black hair pulled back, she couldn’t help but feel like she was standing on that pavement in the paintings.
And that she was alone on those empty streets.
She was new to this. There was going to be so many people there. Teenagers. Some who would like nothing more than to beat kids up, and others who’d rather not get beaten up. Back when she was their age, Ella could easily hurt someone without a second thought. Now… she had gotten wiser. If anyone was going to survive, it was the demigods who could get along, and cooperate. That was why, when she was at camp, Hermes cabin was always the one that lasted longest in competition. They all got along.
But unlike these demigods, she had seen more injustice. She was wiser. Looking around, she waited for her class to fill up. Ella had no roster; she hadn’t bothered to even check the sign-up sheet. Her face was an emotionless mask, and her icy blue eyes left no trace of any fear that she had felt. It was a gift she had, hiding the emotion. Sometimes, when she had this mask on, she felt like a super hero. Hiding her identity, but unlike those heroes, she had done bad stuff. Bank robberies, vandalism, and more. Looking up at where the students would enter, at the top of the stands, she jammed her hands into her pockets, a challenging look to her face.
Ella felt like a legend. A demigod who had gotten into her twenties, and had made her mark at camp. Certainly, some Hermes kids had heard of her, and in all honesty, she could care less if any of these kids had heard of her. Unlike them, she rose above herself, and got things done. Sure, college wasn’t on her agenda, butspank me hard, it wasn’t like she was going to need it. After all, what would a twenty three year old daughter of Hermes have to major in? Obviously there was no school for thievery. And yet, there she stood in front of her canvases, waiting for her class to file in. Somehow, she was going to teach these guys what art really was, and hopefully, that they should never fight unless they absolutely had to. After all, it wasn’t like they needed to fight here.
Plus… she was a bit anxious to see if any Romans came. When she had gone to camp, they hadn’t even known of the Romans. It’d be interesting to see a Roman demigod. Hopefully.
Words: 530 Muse: Excellent Music: Rise Above from Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark
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Post by zoken2 on May 12, 2011 13:10:41 GMT -7
‘Eurgh,’ thought Jack as he Pulled on a ratty t-shirt he’d stolen from somewhere a long time ago. He liked the Irony of it. “I have Kidnapped myself, if you ever want to see me again, give me $1,000,000.00”. No one was going to pay to see him. Even his father wasn’t too worried about him leaving. He pulled on a pair of hiking boots. These his father had bought him. His jeans were well worn, these he’d gotten from some friendly Cyclopes. He left the strange dorms that belonged to his mother. And walked out to the class he’d been assigned. He didn’t want to go, but he was required as part of being here. He wished it was like it used to be a camp where you just had to practice fighting. Now they were making him take classes and stuff. He grimaced a little.
He made his way to the amphitheater. Okay, he had to admit, the pictures were interesting. Probably something his mother would have happen. He didn’t see them as the end of the world, just a lot of destruction. He was okay with destruction. In general he was okay with violence of most kinds. “Jack Sandovski,” he said to the teacher as he plopped himself down on one of the rows that were used for seating. He immediately rotated and lay down. “Wake me when it’s over,” he requested, like it was room service.
He was generally of the opinion that even if it were interesting, he wouldn’t be able to read the books or understand it anyway. And did it really matter if he learned it anyway? Who was going to employ the son of Eris; sower of discord, bringer of strife, and flag bearer for the Titans? Even the Titans didn’t like him, Eris was considered a goddess. And it didn’t really help being friendly with monsters, they were so rarely gainfully employed. Nope, He’d attend like they asked, parrot back the names and dates they asked for if he could. Like it would do him much good.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Count: 346 Muse: Deep down, bad boys are supposed to be troubled right? N/A: I need to score the soundtrack to that.
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