War Games [Ransom & Athena PJO AU]
Jan 6, 2024 2:21:42 GMT -5
Post by Tom on Jan 6, 2024 2:21:42 GMT -5
R A N S O M
V O C L A I N
V O C L A I N
War thrums through his veins; nothing but skin set into a strong form. Blade spun in his hand as there's a silence on the beach he's found himself pushing through. Ransom Voclain; Son of Ares. Titles are meant to be worn with pride. Battles meant to be won. Only in Camp Halfblood, there's only capture the flag. A war game built to train them in their own ways, but also blow off all the steam that a bunch of halfbloods carry around. Always stuck in the rhythm of day to day; Ransom's always looked forward to the days where he can fight his way through a number of different cabins. The Hermes kids always run. The Apollo kids always are flashy. It's always the same. The only real competition was her cabin. A rivalry burned through myth until it lands onto his own shoulders.
It's how his father recognized him. Strong, complex, and filled with so much rage at the world. Ransom had taken down one of Athena's kids in Capture the Flag, set aflame their plan with pure destructive as her hurled a weapon out of their hands at the young age of fourteen. Now, he's alone in this game. Split up by the squad of kids he's been working with as if he would let them follow him as anything more than fodder. The beach's sand feels soft as the water laps up at the edge. On guard, he steps through the sand ever so calmly. The blade he's spinning is nothing more than a distraction. There's plenty of people who find his mere presence terrifying; a puff of smoke between his lips as he walks.
Somewhere he can feel his senses burn just slightly as if he can smell the grime he'd grown up with, always a warning of something terrible coming. Just like his dead mother's vices, he knew when there was a problem. Instead of spinning the blade, he lets the blade rest downwards as he speaks calmly to the empty air. "Come on out. Let's make this a fun fight, asshole."