Post by Aaron Lovecraft on Jun 12, 2011 11:16:03 GMT -8
Dr. Lovecraft, Aaron Simon
DEMIGOD
7th Year at Camp
Age: 18
Son Athena
Alliance: Undecided
DEMIGOD
7th Year at Camp
Age: 18
Son Athena
Alliance: Undecided
Appearance:
Eye(s): Hazel, varying between emerald green and coffee brown with different degrees of light.
Hair: Chin-length and slightly curly. Dark brown and often kept tucked behind his ears.
Height: 5”10
Build Type: Very thin and lanky, much more of a thinker than a fighter, and it definitely shows.
Brief Description: Aaron is a man of many talents, expressions, ideas and thoughts, but working out at the gym is obviously not one of them. He has little muscle in his body, but enough to get him through. He ran track in school so he has decent stamina and alright leg muscles, but nothing to be said for upper body. His eyes are sharp and his jawline is strong, but has a smile that can light up a room, or light up the lightbulb of his thoughts. With pale-ish skin from being inside on the books for too long, and slightly sunken eyes from late nights in thought, Aaron looks like someone who gets told “You need to get out more,” so often its irritating.
He’s a sharp dresser, often seen in button-up shirts (sleeves rolled up or down), polo shirts and blazers, and (VERY) nice jeans, khakis or dress slacks. He wears a silver watch that automatically double-checks every single equation and hypothesis that goes through his head, and the hands will spin around if he has something wrong. The watch was a gift from his mother, but let’s just say those hands don’t do much spinning.
Background:
Mortal Parent(s): Dr. Simon Lovecraft
Other Family:
Pets: A tabby cat named Phyllis who lives in the Athena cabin with him.
Brief History: ] Aaron Lovecraft was born to a strong and brilliant, but lonely man named Simon Lovecraft, who was a professor at Harvard Med., and the leading scientist on Embryology and Developmental Biology. He worked hard, drank hard, smoked hard and studied hard, doing his best to further stem cell research and study exactly what happens inside the mind of a child as it nears birth, what determines exactly what kind of person that child is going to be, etc. It was working very late one night, that Simon became infuriated as his test subject collapsed in on itself, costing him another two thousand dollars. The man roared in fury and tossed his chair, smashing an entire bookself full of jars with organs and various things in them. The man went over to the bar he kept in his office and poured another one, slamming it back hard with all the regret being washed down.
Hearing footsteps on the shattered glass, Simon reeled around to see an incredibly gorgeous woman with long raven hair and eyes that looked like they knew the answers to all the world approaching him. She was dressed in nothing but a long Greek-style robe, and had an olive branch in her hair. “Simon, your mind is brilliant, but you drown your sorrow in liquor and are destroying your life. I see potential that you could save countless lives with your research, but you need something to pull you away. I have been watching you for awhile, and I will gift you with this, so that you may rest once and a while and distract yourself from work. Even the best of us can’t work forever,” Athena said to the man, tilting her head forward and, with wisps of pure thought coming out of her scalp and a flash of light, the cry of a young baby was heard in the lonely office. Athena handed the baby to the star struck man and disappeared.
As Athena predicted, gifting Simon a child gave the man a reprieve from the work that was killing him slowly. Simon raised his child by himself, building an extra room onto his office for the baby that he named Aaron Simon. Aaron grew up in the college, learning from the students, the professors, and reading everything in the library he could get his hands on. As predictable of a child of Athena, Aaron developed an eidetic memory, was constructing full cities with Lincoln logs and matchbox cars by the time he was two, was reading Mark Twain before he was five, and was on to studying college-level courses by his eighth birthday, achieving his first Ph.D at the age of twelve, being one of the youngest people in history to achieve the title “Doctor”. But such a high-education at such a young age hindered Aaron, and he began to become lonely and detached from the world. Simon loved his son, and did his best to cheer the boy up, nudging some of the Harvard students to take Aaron along to parties and get him socialized. Simon also bribed the coach of the college track team to take Simon on, just to help him get some exercise and get him healthier. It sort of worked, but then Aaron became completely inept at communicating with people his own age. A kind of cynicism took him over, and he became bitter and irritable, impatient with people younger than him. Finally, at one such Harvard party, a fight broke out. Not just any fight, but a brutal, and vicious fight as a previously disguised student grew fangs, scales and a tail, lunging for Aaron. The boy struggled and kicked out hard at the monster, escaping the room and fleeing into the library. The dracanae followed him, and was instantly pulverized as Aaron, with the aid of two more students, toppled a bookshelf onto the monster.
As the usual demigod stories go, Simon was forced to tell his son of his parentage, and told Aaron that he only kept it from him so that it wouldn’t go to his head. Understanding, but still bitter at his father, Simon agreed it was necessary for him to attend Camp Half-Blood to better see these attacks coming, slightly shocked at this new life he was to lead. He would always be chased by monsters, always penalized for being what he was. But Aaron deep down was extremely excited for Camp, hoping to finally piece his life together.
Personality:
Likes:
- Books
- Computers
- Fine art
- Stars and space
- Writing
- Ancient history
Dislikes:
- Filth and grime
- Ignorance and stupidity
- Dogs
- Children
- Cold weather
Skills:
- Medicine and health
- Math and Science
- Battle strategy and tactics
- Rapid complicated analysis of almost any situation.
- Chess
Weaknesses:
- Fighting
- Tobacco
- Affection
- Impatience
- Slight arrogance ;P
Passions:
- Astronomical studies
- Theoretical physics
Fears:
- Spiders
- Failure
Hobbies:
- Chess and strategy games
- Running and jogging, it clears his mind.
Fighting Specialty: Tactician. Aaron is awful at direct combat, but shines his brightest when placed behind the frontlines, directing the troops. If ever in a one-on-one fight, Aaron would completely analyze his opponent, looking for any weak spots at all (maybe a loose chain in the armor, an exposed piece of skin, or watching his opponent hold a limp awkwardly or limp) and strike it hard and fast with blades that stick out of his shoes whenever he presses the button with his toe.
Describe the extent of your powers/abilities: As a son of Athena, Aaron has an eidetic memory (photographic), an IQ of 210, can read an average of fifteen thousand words per minute with perfect comprehension, is fluent in eleven languages, and has three Ph.Ds, in Medical Science, Neuro-biology and Aerospace Engineering
Fatal Flaw:: Over calculation. Aaron hates getting anything wrong, and almost cannot act on instinct or impulse alone, which maybe cost him the few seconds extra that could end his life or that of others.
Please describe why you think you can stabilize a powerful character. Minimum of two well-developed paragraphs **Big Three Only**:
Please give a brief background on your minor god**Minor Gods Only**:
Theme Song: The Big Bang Theory – Barenaked Ladies
Our whole universe was in a hot dense state,
Then nearly fourteen billion years ago expansion started. Wait...
The Earth began to cool,
The autotrophs began to drool,
Neanderthals developed tools,
We built a wall (we built the pyramids),
Math, science, history, unraveling the mysteries,
That all started with the big bang!
"Since the dawn of man" is really not that long,
As every galaxy was formed in less time than it takes to sing this song.
A fraction of a second and the elements were made.
The bipeds stood up straight,
The dinosaurs all met their fate,
They tried to leap but they were late
And they all died (they froze their asses off)
The oceans and Pangea
See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya
Set in motion by the same big bang!
It all started with the big BANG!
It's expanding ever outward but one day
It will cause the stars to go the other way,
Collapsing ever inward, we won't be here, it wont be hurt
Our best and brightest figure that it'll make an even bigger bang!
Australopithecus would really have been sick of us
Debating out while here they're catching deer (we're catching viruses)
Religion or astronomy, Encarta, Deuteronomy
It all started with the big bang!
Music and mythology, Einstein and astrology
It all started with the big bang!
It all started with the big BANG!
...
The Puppeteer:
Name/ Alias: Jameson / Joe
Age: 18
How long have you been role playing?: Almost eight years
Rate Your RPing 1-5 Stars according to our Star Rule (1 = beginner. 5= most advanced): 4
How did you find us?: Been here for a while ;D
Role Playing Sample:
No. How could he have let this happen? Forrest swore and, ignoring the scolding from his mother, told her to stop the car. The pair were on their way back to camp, Forrest had been away for the beginning of the summer, finishing out his last month of working so he could give his check to his mother, helping her with bills and whatnot. The call of camp was irresistible though, and his mother agreed to take him back for another summer. The son of Poseidon had felt his fighting skills might've gotten a little rusty, Levi would never let him hear the end of it. But a few miles short of the gate, Forrest looked up to see smoke pluming up over the horizon. Something bad had happened, and he wasn't going to let his family get anywhere near it. "Go home. I love you mom, tell the girls I love them too," was the goodbye he gave his mother. And with a kiss on the cheek, the athletic boy pulled his lucky halberd out of the back seat and slipped his gladius into its sheath on his hip.
On foot, the boy jogged, not wanting to tire himself out before he even got to the fight. His loose baby blue button-up shirt flapped in the wind over top of his tanned leather breastplate. Forrest never wore the really heavy armor, his Minotaur leather did the job just fine. The breastplate, elbow pads, greaves and shin guards had saved his life plenty of times, and relied on them now as he continued towards the camp. What on Earth could have happened? Had the labrynth re-opened? Had the shield fallen and the camp was being flooded with monsters? Forrest swore again that he wasn't there, and felt awful for the damage that was being sewn without him there to help. He worried for his friends, and worried for his home away from home. Putting his fingers together at his lips as he got closer, Forrest blew hard, the whistle ringing out over the trees, echoing softly.
Not even a minute later, with the woosh of wings and the thundering of hooves, Forrest's loyal black and white pegasus Marilyn was running at his side. The fish kid hooked his hand around her neck and pulled himself onto her back, rocketing into the air. "Its about time you showed up," the mare scolded him. "The entire camp has broken out into civil war," she added, bitterness lacing the voice that Forrest heard in his head. Nodding, the son of Poseidon ducked his head down and they continued to soar forward, shooting through the gate like a bullet. Campers, swords, violence was rampant. "I'm jumping off here, you leave. Get out of the reach of arrows and javelins, but stay close enough to hear me whistle," Forrest told the pegasus, giving her a kiss on the back of her head and leaping off the side, rolling as he hit the dirt to throw off the force of the hit.
As he stood up, halberd in hands, a camper approached him with a heavily bandaged face, possibly at loss for one of their eyes. Forrest recognized the boy, a son of Hermes. "Theres a rebellion attacking the camp, thank Hermes you're hear. Head to the volleyball courts, the resistance is losing there, badly. We've already lost the forge and they burnt down the Big House!," the camper spilled at Forrest, desperation and fear blatant on his wounded face. Listening carefully, the Son of Poseidon took off, blood and dust already flecked on his black dress slacks. His boots gave him very decent traction, and Forrest was feeling the sand of the courts under his footsteps in no time.
It didn't look good, and the boy scooped a handfull of sand, rubbing it on his palms and bringing the halberd up into attack mode. Almost at once a camper spotted him, a rebel presumably, and charged Forrest. "Big mistake, kid!," the swimmer said, and just like swinging the oars of his boat, hooked the attacker under the breastplate with the spearpoint of his halberd and ducked under, flipping the kid onto his back, winding him. Forrest really didn't want to kill his fellow campers, but the more he fought, trying to be non-lethal, the more apparent it became that fire would have to be fought with fire. Careful and practiced, Forrest stabbed, swung, tripped and hooked attacking rebels with his halberd, the spear and axe heads doing their jobs wonderfully. But the rebel force was like a hydra, and the volleyball courts were being overrun. It was suicide for the resistance to stay here."Resistance, retreat! No more campers need to die here!," Forrest England screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice powerful and commanding. He hoped enough Resistance fighters heard him, and sweat trickled down his skin, his heartbeat pounding hard in his ears.
Hearing an anguished grunt, Forrest spun on his heel to see Heaven, a daughter of Ares and someone he had known for a long time, stomp in the ribs of another camper, scooping her sword up from the dirt. So this is what civil war was like..."Heaven, you and I both know this is wrong. You're a cabin leader...help me clear this field. You rebels have won, but nobody wants more blood spilt," the athlete pleaded with the girl, still holding onto his halberd firm, and making sure nobody snuck up behind him with quick glances to his sides, ducking quickly as a javelin streaked overhead.
On foot, the boy jogged, not wanting to tire himself out before he even got to the fight. His loose baby blue button-up shirt flapped in the wind over top of his tanned leather breastplate. Forrest never wore the really heavy armor, his Minotaur leather did the job just fine. The breastplate, elbow pads, greaves and shin guards had saved his life plenty of times, and relied on them now as he continued towards the camp. What on Earth could have happened? Had the labrynth re-opened? Had the shield fallen and the camp was being flooded with monsters? Forrest swore again that he wasn't there, and felt awful for the damage that was being sewn without him there to help. He worried for his friends, and worried for his home away from home. Putting his fingers together at his lips as he got closer, Forrest blew hard, the whistle ringing out over the trees, echoing softly.
Not even a minute later, with the woosh of wings and the thundering of hooves, Forrest's loyal black and white pegasus Marilyn was running at his side. The fish kid hooked his hand around her neck and pulled himself onto her back, rocketing into the air. "Its about time you showed up," the mare scolded him. "The entire camp has broken out into civil war," she added, bitterness lacing the voice that Forrest heard in his head. Nodding, the son of Poseidon ducked his head down and they continued to soar forward, shooting through the gate like a bullet. Campers, swords, violence was rampant. "I'm jumping off here, you leave. Get out of the reach of arrows and javelins, but stay close enough to hear me whistle," Forrest told the pegasus, giving her a kiss on the back of her head and leaping off the side, rolling as he hit the dirt to throw off the force of the hit.
As he stood up, halberd in hands, a camper approached him with a heavily bandaged face, possibly at loss for one of their eyes. Forrest recognized the boy, a son of Hermes. "Theres a rebellion attacking the camp, thank Hermes you're hear. Head to the volleyball courts, the resistance is losing there, badly. We've already lost the forge and they burnt down the Big House!," the camper spilled at Forrest, desperation and fear blatant on his wounded face. Listening carefully, the Son of Poseidon took off, blood and dust already flecked on his black dress slacks. His boots gave him very decent traction, and Forrest was feeling the sand of the courts under his footsteps in no time.
It didn't look good, and the boy scooped a handfull of sand, rubbing it on his palms and bringing the halberd up into attack mode. Almost at once a camper spotted him, a rebel presumably, and charged Forrest. "Big mistake, kid!," the swimmer said, and just like swinging the oars of his boat, hooked the attacker under the breastplate with the spearpoint of his halberd and ducked under, flipping the kid onto his back, winding him. Forrest really didn't want to kill his fellow campers, but the more he fought, trying to be non-lethal, the more apparent it became that fire would have to be fought with fire. Careful and practiced, Forrest stabbed, swung, tripped and hooked attacking rebels with his halberd, the spear and axe heads doing their jobs wonderfully. But the rebel force was like a hydra, and the volleyball courts were being overrun. It was suicide for the resistance to stay here."Resistance, retreat! No more campers need to die here!," Forrest England screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice powerful and commanding. He hoped enough Resistance fighters heard him, and sweat trickled down his skin, his heartbeat pounding hard in his ears.
Hearing an anguished grunt, Forrest spun on his heel to see Heaven, a daughter of Ares and someone he had known for a long time, stomp in the ribs of another camper, scooping her sword up from the dirt. So this is what civil war was like..."Heaven, you and I both know this is wrong. You're a cabin leader...help me clear this field. You rebels have won, but nobody wants more blood spilt," the athlete pleaded with the girl, still holding onto his halberd firm, and making sure nobody snuck up behind him with quick glances to his sides, ducking quickly as a javelin streaked overhead.