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Percy Jackson RP!
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Percy Jackson RP!
Percy Jackson RP!
I haven't seen one of these for a while, so I decided to make one.
In this RP, the satyrs have gone missing, so the gods themselves must help the demigods on their way to Camp Half-Blood. However, the gods can't help them directly. So instead, they put all the demigods in the same school, and left a copy of a Percy Jackson book, in hopes that they would come together and realize who they were.
The charrie sheet:
Name:
Age:
Immortal parent:
Any powers/ talents (You can have either 5 small talents, 2 big talents, or 1 talent and 1 power):
Appearance:
Personality:
Favorite weapon:
Background/Other:
Here's mine!
Name: Kalinda Patel (Indian)
Age: 13
Immortal parent: Hecate
Any powers/ talents (You can have either 5 small talents, 2 big talents, or 1 talent and 1 power): She has one talent and one power. Her talent is drawing, and her power is magic.
Appearance: Dark skin, and long, wavy brown hair. Brown-black eyes.
Personality: Very outgoing. She has a lot of friends, and is extremely nice. However, she is also show-offy.
Favorite weapon: Dagger
Background/Other: None
And here's another one!
Name: Sakura Kita (Japanese) (Last name means "north", first name means "cherry blossom")
Age: 12
Immortal parent: Apollo
Any powers/ talents (You can have either 5 small talents, 2 big talents, or 1 talent and 1 power): She has 2 big talents. She is extremely good at writing poetry and has won quite a few singing contests.
Appearance: Short, with straight black hair usually pulled up into pigtails. Her eyes are angled upwards (Unlike my own).
Personality: Very secretive. She doesn't want to be judged by her family. She's also a sad girl. And she does NOT trust anyone.
Favorite weapon: Sword
Background/Other: Her great-grandfather was a general in World War II, and she obviously keeps that secret. Her aunt also died from leukemia, because of an atomic bomb.
It would be cool if someone made a Chinese charrie, one who was killed by her great-grandfather! The conflict would be fun to write about. (Many Chinese were killed in World War II, but we only learn about the Western deaths in school.)
submitted by Mei-xue (May-shreh)
(March 18, 2016 - 9:47 pm)
(March 18, 2016 - 9:47 pm)
(April 22, 2016 - 6:52 pm)
(April 23, 2016 - 9:09 am)
Cloudy and I slept over last night so we're posting together :)
Peter~
"Thanks for the English lesson Mister Diamond," I smiled cordially and shove my books in my backpack.
"You're welcome Peter," He placed a hand on my shoulder. I certainly like Mister Diamond, he'd always been a decently nice guy, which were hard enought to find.
As I walked out I bumped into Jacinth. She was obviously struggling to hide something behind her back.
"Hi," she stuttered uncomfortably.
"Hey," I smirked, cracking my knuckles.
"So," Jacinth tried to slip by but failed once, "how was the lesson?"
"It was great." I moved beside her. "You know, I learned something from reading Shakespeare."
"Really, what?" She forced a decent smile.
"To trust no one." In one quick move I snatched the paper behind her back.
I scanned the people on the list, all names and phone numbers.
"Ianthe? Cool. I like anyone who can successfully smuggle weapons into school. I looked down at her angry fac., 'What's it all for?"
"Heavens to Betsy," she sighed, "I honestly barely know myself. But..."
"Ky said I was in on this!" I'm not really sure what 'this' is, but hey, arrows are cool.
"Okay, okay," Jacinth relented, pointing to the list, "half of these people think we're descendents of Greek gods."
"Oooh! Cool!"
"Not cool. In fact, more like terrifying." Her brows furrowed with disturbance.
"I think it's pretty awesome." My brain was exploding with ideas. "Which Greek gods?"
"Nope, not yet." She genuinely smiled this time, not a fearful one.
"Well I want in." I grabbed a pencil and scratched my name and phone number down.
Suddenly her eyes popped open. "Hey, do you know Kyanite's phone number?"
"Yeah," I looked up nonchalantly.
"How?" Jacith asked incredulously, eyes full of suspicion.
"You didn't hear it from me." I wrote down his name and number quickly. "But I just may have been snooping through school records to find Julia's number, you know Julia? And so anyway, I just might have added like everyone at school to my contacts."
Jacinth rolled her eyes, she didn't get the whole boy girl thing.
"Thanks anyway." She took the list back.
"No thank YOU." I patted her on the shoulder. She winced. "And when you figure out who my mythological dad is, totally text me. Do you think girls dig demigods?"
She shrugged, "Yeah whatever. See you at school."
"Bye!" I waved, even though she was already in her house.
I opened the door to find Mom on the couch.
"Hey Mom." As my eyes adjusted to the dim evening light, I could make out her face as the television light flickered on it. Her steel green eyes tensed as the scenes changed. Her thick black hair fell in her face. I'd always wondered where my sandy hair came from.
"Hey Petey Petey." It always satisfied her to see me cringe at her favorite nicknam for me.
"Really?" I threw my backpack down.
"How was school?" She laughed, turning her tired face away from the televison. There was always a glint of determination in her eyes.
"It was pretty good." I sat down beside her. "I'm making D's instead of F's this semester"
"That's a start." She wrapped her arm around me in that motherly sort of way, that way that reminded that you belong somewhere with someone. It's a rare feeling, but always undeniably special.
Jacinth~
Heavens to Betsey! Peter can be sooo immature.
After supper, I watch videos of Nadia Comaneci on the uneven bars, then end up moping around the kitchen until about 8:00. I know that I need to call Kyanite and ask what the parakeet is going on, but I really don't want to. It's just...weird. I'll make someone else do it. At about 8:15, however, I relent and pick up the phone, dialing Kyanite's number. Maybe I'll get some answers...
"Hello, Ms. Palmer's home for children, how may I help you?"
"Uh..." I stutter. Leave it to Peter to get the wrong number. Or maybe it isn't...I might as well take my chances.
"Hello, I'm looking for Kyanite..." Ug. What's his last name? Never mind. The first name is weird enough to ring a bell.
"One moment...." Ms. Palmer says. Maybe Kyanite is her son or something? Suddenly, there is a crackling sound on the line.
"Who is this and how did you get this number?" Kyanite growls. Well, Peter came through, although it would have been better if I had Ky's cell.
(April 23, 2016 - 2:20 pm)
Hey, guys?
I'm sorry, I feel like you completely disregarded my post. I was reading up on the RP, and so, yes, I do know everyone met up. I was hoping someone would acknowledge the fact that Justice texted Ianthe, if Owlgirl didn't do it herself, because my intention, quite obviously, was to get the sisters with the rest of the group so that I wasn't stuck in a rut. But Owlgirl... I don't think she posted at all, and no one else thought of just making Ianthe say, "Hey, I think Justice figured it out, can she come over too?" or something like that. So could we please make something like that happen? Because I can't contribute right now.
And, on an entirely unrelated note, I know the song, Mei! I played it a few years ago for piano. It was translated, but still really nice! I should find it. (although it's very basic in the form I played it in.)
(April 23, 2016 - 3:53 pm)
Oh, you play piano too? Do you do the National Piano Evaluations thingy? If so, which level are you? It should be on your certificate.
(April 23, 2016 - 7:17 pm)
Justice was there! I don't know if I mentioned her or not, but I couldn't mention everyone. The meeting is over now.
(April 23, 2016 - 8:02 pm)
… Wait, it's the National Piano Auditions, not Evaluations. You probably do take it. Almost everyone who plays piano does. It's when a person comes to your piano teacher's house and you play something, then they give you a score, whether you passed or failed, and such and such.
This look familiar to you?
(April 23, 2016 - 7:24 pm)
(April 23, 2016 - 9:05 pm)
(April 23, 2016 - 9:06 pm)
Ianthe-
I don't blink an eye when Sakura asks what my parents' names are. Then she asks about my grandparents on my mother's side. (I know she said "father's side" but I changed it because it is on her mother's side, it couldn't be on her father's, since her father is Apollo) I take a step back, staring at her. Mother's side. She must know about my grandfather. But how? She's Japanese.
"Mei-in Wang and Zheng-Hui Li. Sound familiar?" I ask, my voice steady and cold, trying to hide the fact that I'm trying so hard not to sound as shaky as I feel. My eyes are still trained on her face. The face with small eyes such a deep brown they seem black. The face with all the same features as the face of Hachiro Kita, the face that had haunted my dreams for months.
Her hand flies to her mouth, her eyes widen.
A thousand details hit me at once, both of past and present. The wind tossing a few strands of Sakura's hair that hadn't been pulled back in pigtails. The feeling of my own hair against my face, smooth and thick like a waterfall. The Wikipedia entries fly at me, each word pounding at me like s fist: World War....invasion...China...killed...villages...Japan...general...Kita...Kita...Kita... And then Ms. Lisle's voice, "Alright, I am doing attendance. Say 'here' if your name is called....Sakura Kita..." Kita. Kita. A little purple flower growing out of a crack in the sidewalk. My grandfather's picture hanging on the wall. Then back to Sakura standing before me now, looking like she's seen a ghost. And those eyes...I can't stop thinking about those eyes.
"So it is you," I whisper, though more to myself then to her. "An ancestor of yours anyway."
She doesn't say anything, just stands there, frozen, her hand still at her mouth. But her eyes seem more intense now, as if a black fire is raging inside of them. She knows. She definitely knows.
"How many people--" I start to ask.
"Ten thousand," she interrupts, her tone almost angry, although for some reason, I feel that her anger isn't directed towards me.
There's a long silence, nothing to be heard but the wind in my ears. We stare at each other. I have no idea what's going on in her mind.
Will continue this later. Have to go to choir now.
(April 24, 2016 - 1:35 pm)
Owlgirl, Sakura was mad at Ianthe! I mean, she wasn't justified, but yeah…
(April 24, 2016 - 7:17 pm)
Oh okay sorry....well, in moments of confusion, Ianthe tends to think he bet of people, or at least what will make her feel better......even if SHE is not justified.
(April 25, 2016 - 4:08 pm)
@Mei-xue:
Hmm, I've never heard of this song. *starts
listening*
OH
MY GOSH! I play this song on the violin, in my string orchestra at school.
"Sakura, Sakura"!!! I just didn't recognize it because my version
doesn't have lyrics...I play second violin by the way.
Ianthe~
(continued)
"I-I-"
I struggle to find the words. "I...I have to go." Without another
word, I reach for my bike, snap on my helmet, and pedal away. I can hear the
sound of Sakura peddling away too, in the opposite direction.
I
struggle to process all the information going through my head. I can't believe
it, after all these years...Hachiro Kita has a descendant, a demigod descendant
at that.
Tears
spring to my eyes. This whole ordeal might not have affected me as much as it
does if it weren't for the way my grandmother first told the story. I remember
her caressing his portrait with her long, slender, fingers. Her face, how it
looked so old and tired. Normally Chinese women her age looked very young, but
not Wàipo. She had aged so much, not because she didn't take care of herself,
but because the war and the loss of her husband and son.
I
remember her closing her eyes as she began to tell her story in a voice steady
and unwavering, but dripping in sadness. Multiple times I told her it was okay,
if she wanted to stop telling the story, that I didn't want to bring her
pain. Multiple times, she replied, "No, no, Ianthe, I tell this story. I
must. You learn this story. You must. You learn our struggles. You must."
I remember her telling about her ten-year-old son who died of starvation. Even before the Japanese got to the village, the people there already felt the effects of the invasion. The crops had not been very productive that year. The villagers would have been able to manage with that if the war hadn't come in as well. They were cut off from trade. They could not go out to get supplies and food. It got so bad that her son starved.
She said that part in English:
"Little Lok," I remember her sadly saying. Her eyes began to water. "Lok Li. When he little, he say his name wrong. He say 'Loky! Loky!' So we call him Lucky. Someone say it mean good fortune in English. Indeed he lucky. Poison snake crawl into crib, snake go away, he okay. He fall out of tree, he break no bones. Until his luck run out. And Zheng-hui..." Her voice cracked, and she immediately switched back to Chinese, her words flowing more easily.
"Zheng hui, he never wanted to fight. No, he was a peaceful man, and strong as a mountain from years of doing hard work on the farm. Yes, he was a mountain, strong but peaceful. Even when food got short, even when fear was in the air, fear of the Japanese soldiers, he remained calm. He kept assuring me that the war would be over soon. Japan would lose. The Japanese wouldn't harm our village or our family. Oh, he didn't believe that they would go as far as destroying the village or attacking civilians. Nobody did. How could they? Why would they?" Wàito paused.
"'Look around,' he would laugh. 'Do you see a single weapon around here? A single man or boy who wishes to fight in the war? Surely the Japanese do not find farmers threatening.' that was true. Nobody wanted to fight. I remember often replying, 'But the pigs are a bit menacing.' And he would laugh and put his arm around me. 'My flower. My beautiful flower.' He would always call me that. Oh, those were the good days." my grandmother chuckled slightly, a wistful smile on her face. Then her smile fell.
"Then one day one of the men came rushing into the square. 'They are coming! They are coming!' he yelled. He had been on his way to see if a neighboring village, kilometers away, had supplies or news of the war. Halfway there, he met an old man who told him not to continue, to turn around. Apparently the village had been destroyed by the Japanese." Wàito shuddered.
"We were shocked and horrified. Everyone made preparations to evacuate. But...it was too late. We didn't know they were so fast. They came so fast."
That's when Wàito's voice wavered. She continued, her breath shaky, tears streaming down her face.
"The screams, the chaos, the gunshots, the fire...Zheng-hui told me to take the children and run...he walked up to the general, hands in the air, and tried to reason with him. And the general...he...he..." My grandmother broke down, her sobs louder.
"He shot him. Just like that. And I ran...I ran with your mother in my arms, I ran beside my son, your aunt...I ran so fast and hard. I ran without looking back, though I could hear the screams and I could smell the smoke of the burning village. I ran even when my heart was pounding, even when my throat and legs were on fire, even when I thought I couldn't go on. I ran and ran and ran." Then my grandmother said no more.
I remember holding her hand for what seemed like forever. She was still crying, but not loudly like before. They were silent tears. Somehow that was more heartbreaking.
The memory fades. I pedal faster.
I hold no hate for Japanese people. My mother always tells me that holding grudges is a terrible thing, especially when the grudges are directed towards people who are not at fault. So I didn't hold a grudge against Sakura when I first met her. She was just one of the millions of Japanese people in the world. She had nothing to do with my past.
At least, that's what I used to think.
Despite me not holding a grudge against a race of people in general, nothing could stop me from hating Hachiro Kita. The man who had destroyed my grandmother's life. It was fine to hate him; he was long dead, only a face from an online photograph. Then I realized today that there was still a trace of him. And for a moment, I hated that individual. Now...I wasn't so sure. My emotions were all mixed up.
I groan. Sakura was his granddaughter. I know it. She knows it. Her grandfather killed my grandfather. I know it. And...from the look on her face, she knows it too.
I know I shouldn't be angry at her. It wasn't like she killed anyone. Once again, from the look of her face, she seemed to feel sorry about it.
And yet...
I can't be around her. I just can't. I'm not sure if I'm mad at her...but it's just too much to handle. I need time. Maybe one day I'll be able to loom her in the face again, but as of now, I'll just try to avoid her. Or, if we must be together, like in choir or at another meeting with the other demigods, I won't go out of my way to talk to her. If I have to say something, I will. But I won't go out of my way to talk to her. I won't go out of my way to my mean, rude, or hateful to her either.
As I wheel onto my street, I sigh, but not of relief. Change is coming. For me, for Sakura, for everyone.
Change is coming.
************************************************
My gosh. That is probably the saddest thing I have ever written. I have no idea how that poured out- sometimes I get really into the character. I am rather pleased with myself.
(April 24, 2016 - 8:40 pm)
@Owlgirl- I love singing; I do, like, 3 activities related to singing in a week.
Can I not be a charrie that is in their general group, canI just be a regular at Camp Half-Blood, who shows them around and tells them stuff? Sorta like Annabeth?
Side note: I have a habit of joining RPs and stuff really late.
(April 24, 2016 - 7:59 pm)
Sure! You can join!
(April 25, 2016 - 6:30 am)