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Name
Dallas Brett Relo

Age
21. 18th June.

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Interstellar Pansexual Pervert

Ethnicity
50% Greek, 50% American (45% Spanish-American, .001% - 5% Native American)

Years at Olympus Academy
Fifth Year

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Appearance
The internationally recognized guidelines for successful Tinder accounts, updated for 2019, rate the new cutoff for ‘short guys’ at a respectable 6’2. Dal, blessedly, still clears that benchmark, but only by a few quarters of an inch. He’s a fairly muscular young man, weighing in at 180 pounds, although it’s the sort of lean muscle, built by low weights and high reps, that makes it easier for him to fit into good-looking clothes instead of just sporting his gym gear all the time LIKE A FUCKING LUNKHEAD, JOEY. Such clothes tend to just range from t-shirts to sweaters to bomber jackets, chinos to tight jeans to athletic pants, Nike high tops to boots to running shoes. A usual staple of his appearance is the pair of Prada sunglasses that either disguise his sky blue eyes from the world or lay nestled in his mop of curly golden hair. He is very open and expressive with his body language, often bouncing on his tiptoes as though he's ready to dance or jump out of the way of something - a telltale sign that he's bored or restless. Other such signs include his habit of blinking with one eye, then the other, back and forth, in a series of lightning-quick winks instead of the blinks of a normal human, or tousling his hair back before shaking it back down into his eyes, over and over again.

He has a tattoo of a trail of shooting stars arcing behind his left ear, stretching down to the top of his neck. Dana and Marcy also pierced his left nostril and navel while he was stoned once in the previous year of school, those evil sluts, but right now he only has the nose piercing inserted.

Personality


It's easy to see how Dallas could become the centerpiece - or centerfold - of a group of demigods. Talkative and silver-tongued, he seems to never stop chattering about something or somebody, or preferably multiple suspects in a mind-meltingly complicated spiel. This inability to shut up can knit together a friendship or tear a person down, depending on his mercurial, even bipolar temperament. No matter what his intention is, his speeches are always used as a way to tease and prod at the other person, whether good-naturedly or mockingly. The best way to survive his onslaughts are to stay thick-skinned and let the backhanded compliments or playful barbs about your clothes, friends, or parentage bounce off of you with a laugh. Returning fire could either cause him to laugh loudly or glower and grow coarse, depending on what mood he's in or how close he is to you - the closer you are to him, or the more he likes you, the less patient he's prepared to be with you, paradoxically.

His hot temper isn't often utilized in defense of his friends - fuck them, they can handle themselves - but more often just weaponized against anyone who vexes them in any way. His loyalty manifests through vengeful acts, not protectiveness, and many a time someone in a parking lot has wound up with a sneaker-sized dent in a car door or a baseball bat into a headlight for provoking Dallas while out at the club or a restaurant. He's tried to temper such behaviors over the course of his five years at Olympus, but it's easy to look at Dallas and see shades of his father, who once tricked his aunt into trickshotting her first boyfriend out of spite. The most protective he ever gets is towards the handful of students he likes in the lower years, who can sometimes goad him into taking a surprisingly proactive mentorship role. His own sister has received the most training from him by far; he enjoys teaching her the basic methods of free running, striking, and even advice in social situations, and he finds time to make conversation with her all hours of the day or night - usually without her permission. A long text thread at 2 AM prefaced with a repeated "Hey nerd" is par for the course in their relationship.

It should also be noted here that Dallas is an incorrigible flirt and heartbreaker, often cutting off girls for various reasons that stem, simply, from his own boredom. He doesn't have an inability to commit to a relationship, or even a lack of readiness, he just prefers casual relationships and hasn't found anyone who makes him want to change his mind. Sex is fairly meaningless in terms of emotional attachment, although he does seem to enjoy making breakfast, coffee, and conversation for more successful flings.

He can generally be found at the vanguard of "the squad," who can get away with riling up the bipolar son of the sun slightly more than most people.

History
Born in Mill Valley, Dallas spent most of his time moving between Marin County and Oakland with his mother, a fitness model in Northern California. Learning at an early age that he wasn't going to get much out of her beyond the fact that he was "[his] dad's spitting image," Dallas fell into the oldest and noblest of traps for charismatic only children - he built himself a large group early in middle school that, gradually, metamorphosed from less of a group of class clowns into more of a group of wild, reckless teens with too much pent up energy. Eventually, as high school wore on, Dallas was getting himself into fights in school bathrooms, by lockers, even in the parking lots at athletic events. He lost his valued spot as a pitcher on the school baseball team, and by the end of his tenure in California he could be found with a black eye and a burst-lipped smirk on his face more often than not.

Though his future seemed in jeopardy as his future at school grew more fractured, his mother finally deciding to reveal the truth about his parentage seemed to temper his resolve. At the age of 15, Dallas ran away from home on a quest to find his father, god or not, and figure out what the hell he was supposed to do about it. He ended up being picked up ten miles outside of Reno by his own spitting image, driving a Tesla Roadster (nerd) and rolling his eyes behind a pair of Prada shades. The resemblance was too uncanny to be bullshit, and Dallas hopped in the car to see where it would lead him. The Maserati ended up leading all the way to Olympus Academy, where Apollo left Dallas with the sunglasses and a final challenge, a shot across the bow:

"Take these. Prove to me you're worthy of that," he said, pointing up towards the sun, "and I'll make it up to you and then some."

Over the next five years, Dallas has tried applying himself to that ideal (like, what hot-blooded young man doesn't want to be the fucking sun on Earth?) and started trying to temper his bad boy behavior as best he can. Now that his tenure at Olympus is halfway over, he's certainly made progress, though he clearly still has a loooong way to go.

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Godly Parent
Apollo, God of the Sun, Music, and Poetry

Relationship With Godly Parent
Douchebags do generally grow close with one another. Dallas and Apollo have met up a few times over the course of the past few years, usually for days spent fucking around on a baseball diamond - Apollo, as the god of archery, is a better pitcher, even if Dal suspects that some of his pitches dip out of the strike zone and then veer in - grabbing a burger or pie at Nation's in his home state of California, or racing each other up the Pacific Coast Highway or Arizona desert, keeping contact over speakerphone in their cars. It's not the paternal ideal; rather, their relationship is more similar to that of a freshman in college and his favorite professor, or at best a watchful frat boy out to guide the guy fresh from his hazing ritual. They're good friends, but not a comfortable father/son dynamic.

Demigod Abilities

Heaven, Let Your Light Shine Down - Though all demigods are naturally stronger, quicker, and sturdier than their human relatives, Dallas' physical advantages are only amplified when in the light of his father's sun. He uses this to hit harder and faster in fistfights, his preferred state of combat, but the effect can also be utilized for things as mundane as waking him up in the morning with a jolt of energy or racing to a class he decided to attend at the last minute. Outside of sunlight, these effects begin to fade after around two minutes.

If Young Metro Don't Trust You... - Apollo is the god of music and poetry, so it only makes sense that his son would inherit natural ability in turn. When listening to music, Dallas' strength, speed, and durability stack to double that of his heightened capabilities, leaving him stacked with up to quadruple the physical prowess of a normal human. Whatever you do, if you're intent on pissing off, don't fight him in sunlight with his iPhone on. Seriously. Blot out the sun with locusts, break his iPhone, do something before he turns your face into a bloody mask.

This power also has a gentler side effect. When Dallas hears someone sing, he gains an empathetic bond with that person temporarily. The longer they sing, the longer the bond goes on and strengthens, giving Dallas insight into their emotions and, to a more limited extent, their thoughts, allowing for some limited forms of gentle psychic persuasion, insight, and even the faintest hints of communication. After it stops, the bond will stay solid for around five minutes before starting to fizzle. By ten, it will be gone entirely.

...I'm Gon' Shoot You - Similar to his other two powers, this can only be activated when Dallas is standing in the sun for energy purposes - this power, however, is a different bent. As long as he is standing within the sunlight and feels comfortable enough with the open space he's standing in, Dallas can reflect the light source of the sun towards a target using his body as a conduit, in effect creating a 6'2 tall laser or solar panel. This will eventually drive his body temperature up into a feverish state, though, so prolonged use of this ability will prove incredibly hazardous to his health.

Staring at the Sun - Dallas has a natural illusionary power, creating up to four illusionary copies of himself at a time to throw off opponents. They will perform the most basic of functions and fighting maneuvers to keep an enemy guessing, and can even talk shit like the normal Dallas through a mimicry of his speech, but as time goes on the copies will start to skip and "buffer," almost. Additionally, their surfaces go crystalline, sleek and shiny when struck. Hitting all of them will inevitably point out which is the true son of the sun, so it's often a temporary solution to trick an opponent long enough to get a good strike in and scramble his opponent's brains.

Though he's not averse to using this trick on his sister or his friends to grate on their nerves once in a while. Every so often. ...Very often.

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Name
Harada Danaye (Dana Harada)
Age
19. 1st April.
Gender
Female
Sexual Orientation
Bisexual
Ethnicity
50% Greek, 50% Japanese
Years at Olympus Academy
Fourth Year

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Appearance
Dana would not strike anyone as the fearsome princess of war that her friends and the families of her late enemies are acquainted with. She is a tall, gracile girl, standing at 5’10 and weighing only 115 lbs. Even casually, she walks as though she is picturing herself on a runway, forcefully and purposefully. This intense focus is the truest hint of her parentage and of her own determination. Removed of that, she could easily be mistaken for a silent, playful girl; her high cheekbones, sienna-colored doe-eyed stare, and arched eyebrows often give people the impression that she’s a polite girl who just can’t understand them. She can.

Dana takes pride in keeping her appearance composed and professional, and she is often Marcy’s cohort in their extravagant shopping trips. A black coat is a staple of her wardrobe, as they leave her feeling v snug and cozy and protected from the mountain weather. Furthermore, however, she likes the protection of being able to hide one of her knives, handguns, or phones on her person at all times, and the coat hides all. Beyond that, Dana’s arsenal is comprised of anything from pencil skirts to leggings, usually paired with boots and accessories such as a flowing red scarf. Heels aren’t out of the question, but if she finds herself in a fight – as she often will – she will kick them off at the start of a duel and may even attempt to use them as weapons in the bloodbath to come.

Personality


Dana tries her best to embody a personal code of honor. She strikes most people as a quiet, unassuming girl, silent where most of her friends are brash and talkative. She is very quiet, as a matter of fact, so much so that much of the time she spends hanging out with her best friend is sent with the two of them curled up silently together, immersed in each other’s projects or social media feeds. Though not particularly eager to volunteer for things, she will graciously agree to help if anyone were to ask for her assistance on such a project, or even if someone would like to just go and hang out. She does her best to stay quiet and drift through life.

This lowkey, agreeable nature belies the true ferocity that forges the bones and heats the heart of Dana Harada. She is a bombastic and proud young woman, quick to fight and hard to placate when her honor is slighted or those around her are aggrieved. She enjoys the brutality of a fight and doesn’t mind roughing up her own pretty face or hairdo in the name of turning somebody into a pulp; she’s both more lowkey and more violent than her older brother, which means that she relies on him to be a good role model and balancing point for the two extremes of her nature.

History
Believe it or not, even Olympians sometimes find themselves in a legal bind. Hermes' early bouts of thievery aside, not one god was taken to task for his or her sphere of influence quite so often as Ares, God of War. The bloodthirsty immortal would often find himself fighting a war with particular zeal and go too far in the eyes of man; in most instances, Zeus would allow Ares to spirit himself away, but once every few centuries the God of War was left to stew in his own hell. It was during one such situation in the last decade of the 20th century when Ares found himself on the wrong side of failed Yakuza interests in Japan, and a Yamaguchi-gumi retained lawyer was tasked to defend him from the investigation that followed. As absurd as it was, Ares followed the trial to completion, and was so impressed by the poise and cool under fire that his attorney displayed - not at all dissimilar to that of a trained elite - that the two soon fathered a child together.

Said resultant seed, Harada Danaye, grew into a quietly independent girl with a penchant for laissez-faire leadership, but leadership nonetheless, of most group activities within the school. This, coupled with increasingly frequent visits from Ares as she sprouted into adolescence, nurtured the belief in the God of War that perhaps his daughter wasn't cut out to languish alone amongst humans in Japan for the rest of her life, and she found herself directed to Olympus Academy in a new country across the world. Thus far, the experience has proved a healthy one for Dana, even if it has reinforced some of her more prickly traits. She has grown particularly close to her older brother and his cohort of friends, often tagging along with them and taking advantage of their wellspring of shopping money. She also independently made a best friend of her own in Rebekah Cross, who she has dormed with every year of her she’s stayed at Olympus.

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Godly Parent
Ares, God of War, Father of Rome, Yamaguchi-gumi

Relationship With Godly Parent
Dana enjoys her father's company, and though their visits are fleeting she has inherited his love of a fight, and a belief that no fight is meaningless when it comes to your personal reputation and honor - or even just for fun. Ares, for his part, finds an endless source of amusement in his daughter's seriousness and antics. She believes that Niichan shares some of her outbursts out of context so they can laugh about it together. She would gladly fight both of them for their insolence.

Demigod Abilities

Kiss Kiss! – Dana is no stranger to brutal fights, and relishes the opportunity to overcome the strongest blows her enemy can strike. Such blows, she believes, only strengthen her mentally and are proof of the things that her indomitable strength and will can overcome. As such, in fights, landing blows on her will only toughen her; she will bleed and ache in due time from the wounds, but in the heat of battle she will never fall to her knees.

Bang Bang! – Similarly, the weapons that Dana-chan is armed with should rightly consider themselves blessed to be wielded by the yakuza princess. In her hands, a butter knife could carve like a sword; a slingshot hits with the force of a beanbag launcher; a shotgun would hit like an atomic blast at point blank.

Fog of War – Dana's unique mix of pride and hot temper makes for an interesting personality dichotomy. In battle and in her academics, her focus is imperative, and she has honed that focus to a knife's edge. Any attempts at mental or psychic interference from another demigod will backfire heavily on someone trying to interfere with Dana. Attempts to read her mind or emotions, charm, intimidate, or influence her with one's powers will only result in upsetting her. It's not worth upsetting her.

Isten kardja – The sword of Mars has been the symbol of the god of war since time immemorial, a weapon that defies classification under Ares, Mars, or any of his other facets; its wielders have long since passed into legend, too, from heroes to Huns. Dana wields the reforged blade - emphasis on reforged. Her father's blade now comes with an eight round magazine, and it's a pain getting it through airport security.

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Name
Jonas Alexander Highwind

Age
20

Gender
Male

Sexual Orientation
Straight as an arrow.

Ethnicity
Half Greek, Half-Welsh, 100% AMERICAN.

Years at Olympus Academy
Fifth

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"I was born under a bad sign with a blue moon in my eyes" — Alabama 3

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Appearance
Jonas is a tall and powerful young man, standing at an athletic, muscular six foot three. His dark hair is cropped close, and what might be a thick, full beard upon his strong jaw is usually kept clean shaven, grown out to stubble at most. His eyes are a sharp and lively green, like the deep forests of his mother’s ancestral home, and his face is free of scarring. His body, however, is not quite so spotless— a story of small mistakes and painful lessons. Nothing major has gotten him yet, but it is a worthy collection of reminders that he is not invincible. After all, even his mighty father was brought low by Diomedes. He’ll often have the corners of his mouth turned upwards in a small, relaxed grin, which could just as easily be read as a smirk. Carries himself with a surety of movement granted by near-mastery of the body, and a full knowledge of one's own skill. He tends towards casual or athletic wear most of the time, favoring pragmatism over style when it comes to shopping for 225 pounds of meat. However, the recent purchase of some dress shirts and and proper pants that are neither athletic nor jeans indicates that he's listening TO YOUR FUCKING NAGGING, DAL.

Personality
Considering the reputation of his father within myth and amongst the Gods, Jonas is surprisingly... normal in temperament. He is not a smouldering pile of anger or resentment, there exists no chip on his shoulder, and he is no ruthless antagonist towards the weak. Much to the contrary, he tends to be quite cordial and polite with non-threatening strangers, at most engaging in very tame banter until he better understands them and their limits. Amongst his friends, he’ll loosen up like anyone else, needling and getting needled in equally good fun. Only those he truly trusts or truly can’t stand are shown his the full sharpness of his tongue. He enjoys a healthy dose of competition as much as any young, red-blooded man, and considers it disrespectful to go easy on anyone not a novice or child, but he’ll always encourage the pursuit of self-improvement in others.

Respects strength in any form, of body, of character, of will, you name it, if it's strong, he likes it. Admires great warriors, and is absolutely enthralled whenever given the opportunity to learn of them and their methods. While neither being Athenian nor particularly displaying an extreme aptitude for strategics, what he is is a thinking fighter, a veritable sponge when it comes to techniques and the tactics of their implementation. He may not be the best general in the world even amongst his brethren, but he does a hell of a job at getting his hands dirty. Once a fight begins, he won’t back down from it, and if he decides there’s merit to a challenge, he will spiritedly accept. Revelrous in the heat of battle, living on the knife’s edge of putting skill against skill, flirting with death while clinging hold of life—it feels like home, and it’s where he feels the most alive, and the most real.

And yet, on the other side of the coin, nothing would feel more hollow than to fight pointlessly. He knows it all too well.

During his time alone, Highwind often thinks about what he wants to do with the powers he holds, and finds the openness of his future daunting. Sure, keeping everyone he knows safe is fine for the interim, but they’ve only a few years left together in the Academy before being tossed into the world, and from there, what will he do? He cannot go everywhere. He cannot keep an eye on everyone. He knows this, but beyond what he is now… what can he be? The names of heroes long past were those he aspired to as a boy.

But could anyone stand amongst those titans in this age?

History
Raised by a single mother, Jonas was stuck from a very young age into a nearby martial arts program, just as much to give him something to do while she worked her hardest to find the cure for cancer as it was to teach him discipline and keep him out of trouble. While throwing you kid at a karate school is always a crapshoot at best given the variety of factors involved, the young Highwind boy took to the martial arts like a fish does to water, always looking forward to his mom getting off of work and being able to take him to the studio after school each day. Especially since, while the discipline did come after a time (along with healthy doses of age and experience), the trouble at school was much, much harder to shake. Despite being a decent enough kid, Jonas always found himself getting into brawls in the classroom, at lunch, behind the playground; anywhere was free game. It wasn't that he started them or sought them out, either. It was like fighting was drawn to him much as he was to the art involved in it. Never one to start a scuffle, he tried to keep to himself, but 99 times out of a 100, he did find himself ending them.

Such was life.

While school and such was hell in a handbasket, he often found refuge in the community of the martial arts studio, growing from a competent, studious little kid into a respected, knowledgeable young man, becoming a mentor as well as a student to those that came after him. Life had begun to turn around: he had more confidence, he was helping his mother tremendously with the new source of income, he even was starting to pick his grades back up--

And then Dad showed up, and everything got flipped-turned upside down.

He’d always appreciated mythology. Since he was a kid, he loved to read or watch stories about Gods, Dragons, Demons, and most importantly, Heroes. Those shining examples of Humanity, those who had etched their names into the halls of greatness with their gallantry, courage, and strength of will— tales of these people, whether they existed or not, were dear to him. He’d always felt particularly drawn to the tales of Olympians and Greece, but had no idea that one of the most infamous of Gods would be knocking on his door and calling himself "Dad".

One long, weird talk later, and he was the son of the Greek God of War, going to be sent off to Olympus Academy, and was a demigod walking amongst mortals. And hey, Dad's really, truly is sorry he can't be there for you or your sister, but those shits in the middle east have been keeping him so damn busy these days.

So, that was new.

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"I don't often get the chance to say it, but remember this: you will never meet a fiercer opponent than yourself, son. Remember who you are, and remember who he is. It will take you further than any spear's throw or sword's reach. Trust me. If you can keep that steady, I know you'll always be able to move forward." — Ares

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Godly Parent
Ares, The God of War, Father of Rome, minor guardian of agriculture and the wilderness. Patron of military virtue, the soldier, aggression, courage, physical might, Scyth, Thrace, Tylos, Rome, and Sparta. Symbolized by the dog, the chariot, the spear, the helm, the boar, and the vulture.

Relationship With Godly Parent
Rather hands-off, and out of necessity as opposed to any real lack of willingness. Turns out, with all the conflicts the world's constantly going through, Ares is a busy son of a bitch. The two are amicable enough, but there's a definite air of awkwardness between them whenever put in the same room, a byproduct of the unfortunate distance between them. Nonetheless, Ares has always found a way to, if nothing else, at least keep an eye on the boy, even if he can't always be there for him, and he is proud of him for sticking to his guns in the face of life. It's a rough world out there.

He, of all the Gods, would know.

"Also, I'll kick your ass if you don't take care of your sister, kid. If that girl's staying up and watching RIZIN then so are you."

Demigod Abilities

Make Savage the Body: Already notably physically gifted and tirelessly trained even amongst his half-god peers, in battle Jonas's athleticism skyrockets even further beyond human capability. Every parameter imaginably useful in man-to-man combat: strength, agility, senses, speed, toughness, even reaction time, all are further augmented into a being that becomes an ideal soldier. This may be outdone in one area by a specialist, such as an out-and-out speedster outpacing him, but he'd be the king of all trades to their ace of one.

Glorious Eidolon: The crystallization of a legend. No War can be fought without weapons, and thus, no demigod of War can truly exist without a weapon. Jonas can call forth replicant images, much like the shadow on Plato’s proverbial cave, of historical, current, or indeed mythological weapons. These are thought to come from the Armory of Ares himself, with the selecting factor being Jonas’s own understanding of the weapon he calls for. The more completely he understands it’s legend— wielders, blessed or cursed properties, construction, and so forth, the more “accurate” the replica he is given. Should he ever be blessed enough to see, or better yet, wield a legendary item like that, then an ideal replica is almost a sure thing.

Courage of the Front Line: "Drive away bitter cowardice from my head and crush down the deceitful impulses of my soul."—(Homeric Hymn to Ares). The ability to retain one's fighting skill and experience no matter the situation. Even in a terrible, heart-rending predicament, even under the influence of a berserker's rage, or other affectation of the mind, no sense for battle analysis and action is dulled. It is the strength of will to fight out a hundred-to-one comeback without being routed, to stand against titans while quelling great fear, and maintaining awareness under any outside duress. Even a grievous injury, should it not be immediately fatal, is something you can draw a win out of with the correct course of action. This is an ability honed by his natural experience in fighting, years of accumulated spars, street altercations, and true life-or-death combat that have granted him an active presence of mind even in conditions most dire.

Black Hawk Down: More a boon than an outright ability, a daily collection of the stray molt from the Ornithes Areioi, the birds of Ares that drop arrow-like feathers and guard the Amazon shrine to Ares on an island off the coast of the Black Sea. They appear by his bedside when he wakes each morning, and with a little work, they can be fashioned into proper arrows. Due to their inherent tie with Ares and his domain, however, they have changed in the face of modern warfare. In response to the will of Jonas, Ornithes Arrows can optionally explode upon impact, at the natural cost of utterly destroying the projectile. Depending on the molt of the flock, daily restock yield ranges from two to five dozen arrow-worthy feathers.

Alan Jouban | ed1c24

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Name
Kelsey Claire Marston

Nicknames
Shooter - Only really known to Pemiscot County folks, it hasn't caught on outside the area.
Katniss - Call her this, and find out how accurate she can be when she aims for your eye.

Age
21. Party on.

Gender
Female

Sexual Orientation
Bisexual.

Ethnicity
50% Greek, 50% American (English/Scottish)

Years at Olympus Academy
Fifth Year

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Appearance
Kelsey was raised to be proud of her rural roots, and she looks like it. She stands 5'11 in flats, and weighs 140 pounds. Her body looks lean, but she does carry some muscle from her athletic days and her efforts hauling firewood and forest kills into the house. Her long auburn-brown hair is usually tied back in a messy ponytail, but some of her bangs usually sneak out of the hair elastic. Her eyes are brown, but they glimmer just the same as those blonde bimbos with the blue eyes do. Folks just have to look deeper. She's not one to care too much about appearances, and as such will generally avoid makeup unless its time to hit the Rocky Mountain club scene. Her arms and legs are covered in nicks and scars from tree branches that caught her unaware, or in a couple instances, animals that didn't know when they were beaten. Her earlobes are pierced and she has one tattoo, a dark black circle with a sliver of silver on the right side, symbolizing a lunar eclipse, on her right shoulder blade.

She usually wears clothes for comfort, not classiness. She has a collection of jeans, shorts and a couple pairs of overalls, usually paired with a rotation of t-shirts, tank tops and jackets. Basically things that don't get in the way of her shooting. She has one main accessory, a pendant tied with black rope and baring a polished piece of Mozarkite, a gift from her father so she would always have a connection to where she came from.

Personality


Kelsey is proud of where she grew up and embodies a lot of the morals her dad emphasized as she was progressing through her life. Take care of your own. Give what you can. Make do with what you get. Values that steered their actions. Course, having a beer or two never hurt anyone either. Gotta be able to socialize with the best of them. Her father swears he could shoot better with a drink in him, and he never got questioned on that ability. Not in the hunting group and not by his flesh and blood. Kelsey carries that same kind of confidence in her everyday life, be it on the target range or in a group of her peers, she will assert herself quickly and defend her ideas and compatriots with gusto.

Some would say too much gusto. As with many Marstons, Kelsey will stubbornly defend her idea to the death if she thinks its the right way to do. If it turns out she was right and was ignored, it will often get the offending party on her "shitlist" and they will remain there for a good while unless something miraculous happens. Marstons don't forget. Growing up in a rural town, she can be a little too trusting at times, believing that most people are good from the get go. However, if they betray that initial trust, they too will end up on the shitlist.

When out in a group of friends, she usually tries to be at the head of the party but can be persuaded to acquiesce to other ideas with a drink or two. Dionysius kids are very good at hitting that weak spot. She supports the Grizzlies and Blues, but baseball is boring and the Rams left, so that's it.

History
Kelsey grew up in a small homestead her father built outside of Steele, Missouri, a place where Kyle Marston was free to do whatever he pleased whenever he wasn't working as a mechanic in town. Her mother left shortly after she was born, and Kyle was left to try and learn how to be a parent on the fly. Guns weren't going to raise a young girl, but he was going to try and make it work.

There weren't many toys making their way into the household, so Kyle encouraged his daughter to embrace the outdoors and make her own fun. He encouraged athletics, as sports often filled the void when it grew too dark to hunt or fish. He built a basketball hoop on the side of his garage and encouraged young Kelsey to practice shooting at it, claiming she would be the first woman to play in the NBA if she got good enough. The way she shot, with accuracy uncanny for a girl her age at a regulation hoop, Kyle believed it for a bit. He put a gun in Kelsey's hands when she was 11, and she handled it well too, although she was more interested in the bow and arrow that Rick Sikes liked to use when he came out hunting. Kelsey showed a natural aptitude for that as well. The basketball and archery skills combined to give her the unofficial nickname "Shooter" in local circles.

Kelsey continued to work the land with her father, preparing meals out of their kills and keeping the homestead tidy. Her father even started splitting beers with her when she was 13, just happy for the company more than anything on those lonely nights in the shade of the Ozarks. She would continue to hone her shooting. Even in the dead of night, she would either have a basketball or her composite bow, and she would be just as successful as she was in the day. Kyle couldn't understand how Kelsey could shoot without the lights on, but rumor said that it just showed how unconscious a shot the Marston girl was. SEC schools were already sniffing around Bulldogs games to get a look at the 3-point specialist. It looked like she was set to make a run at that dream she was promised long ago.

Then came the date of Kelsey's 16th birthday. Long after the girls from her team had left for the evening, there was a knock on the Marstons' door as the two were sharing a birthday nip. A woman came in, uninvited, and explained that as her daughter, Kelsey had a destiny to fulfill. There was a lot of shouting that night, half of it in a British accent that almost sounded fake, and the sound of broken bottles could be heard. Eventually, both parents emerged and Kelsey got the news that she was heading to Pac-12 country instead, bundled off to Colorado.

Being denied a chance to follow her dreams put Kelsey in a sour mood when she set foot on Olympus Academy grounds, but her time at the campus has been spent as well as she could muster, despite a lack of game to hunt in the enchanted forests. Admins caught her threatening an impish faerie with a taste of her arrow and that got her reprimanded pretty good. She's settled into a groove during her time here where she will go through the motions in class and spend her off-time in the gymnasium, in the forest or out with some of the other demigods enjoying some libations, especially Dustyn, one of her best friends on campus. But she still remembers what her mother did. It's permanently on her body, and in her mind, and one day, she will get some answers.

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Godly Parent
Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, Forest and Hills, the Moon and Archery

Relationship With Godly Parent
Basically non-existent. Artemis didn't stick around very long after giving birth to Kelsey, buggering off to Gods-only-know where for 16 years until she showed up that fateful day, and explained in a Madonna-esque British accent that Kyle's only daughter needed to be sent off to Colorado to learn how to handle her abilities as a demigod. The Marstons have never trusted Artemis considering how quickly she abandoned the two of them, and as such, Kelsey has no desire to develop that relationship. Artemis got herself a new family, with a boy she could mold as she pleased. Good for her. She was number one on the shitlist.

Demigod Abilities

Boom Goes the Dynamite - Kelsey has the eyes of a hunter, and as such, she is deadly accurate with anything that she can get her hands on, be it a bow, a basketball or a bottle that needs flingin'. If it's one of the first two, she will put it on target 95% of the time, and she's working on that pesky last 5%. Guns are a bit lower on the scale, having fallen out of practice with them as she adapted to the bow and arrow, but she's still a good shot.

As Clear in Night as Day - Being the daughter of the Moon Goddess, Kelsey is very in tune with the benefits the heavenly body offers. She can see as clearly in the moonlight as in the daylight, allowing her to perfectly move around and hit her shots while her opponents may be fumbling around in the dark. She thinks she might have gravitational powers as well, but that's only based on Jackie Chan Adventures, and Saturday morning cartoons aren't the best to base ideas off of.

I Will Hunt You Down - Once Kelsey gets a whiff of a target, be it a deer, a rabbit or that snoop from the IRS, she will be able to follow it to the bitter end no matter what. She doesn't enjoy some of the methods necessary to get that scent, but once she has it, doom follows. She guarantees.

Meet You Under the Table - While not the beneficiary of her mother's hands-on parenting, meaning there's no control over nature or anything like that, Kelsey does share a trait with another set of demigod kids. Her training in the game of drink began young, and as such she has developed a strong tolerance for alcohol. She's no match for a Dionysius kid, but she can hold her own against almost anyone on campus. And don't mess with her at beer pong. She is the reigning champion.