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Marilyn Tsinajinnie

"Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions."

0 · 754 views · located in Eupheus Academy

a character in “Eupheus”, as played by fivehours



“I used to worry about the labels others placed on me… until I realized my limitations weren’t coming from their labels, but from my own.”



Marilyn Chooli Tsinajinnie

Mari ; Often utilized by close friends and family.
Lyn ; Secondary to 'Mari', it is also used by loved ones.
Jinnie ; A less common nickname, based on her surname.


Seventeen | Eleventh



Bisexual ; Biromantic

Native American/Aboriginal American ; Navajo




Adventurous | Forthright | Challenging | Kind | Elegant
Spontaneous | Individualistic | Earthy | Moralistic | Energetic
Whimsical | Self-indulgent | Strong-willed | Transparent
Indecisive | Big-thinking | Vivacious | Self-sufficent | Playful

Upon first impression, Marilyn portrays all of the characteristics in which a child of Apollo is expected to have. She’s all too ready to be friendly and accommodating, almost as if it were her personal mission to befriend others, and for some the proposition is alluring due to the amount of genuinity and brightness she seems to carry herself with. Her liveliness is what makes her lovely, her non-biological father had used to tell her, and she was as enrapturing as the sun with her big smile and heart as big as the whole world. It’s these traits, the liveliness, friendliness, that make her the daughter of Apollo. However, Marilyn isn’t completely defined by such aspects.

For example, Marilyn is completely moralistic; This most likely sprouted from the fact that her father was their reservation’s local sheriff and Marilyn has a penchant for realistic police and detective shows such as Cops. The Navajo girl believes there’s a defined line that separates the good and the bad, even when it comes to the little things like bullying. She almost always roots for the underdog and takes a stance against any sort of injustice. If Marilyn had never discovered her status as a demi-god, she’s convinced she may have become a police officer or even lawyer herself.

Being Navajo has also played a huge part in defining who Marilyn is. The values of the Navajo peoples have been deeply ingrained inside of her. She believes that in all of the complexity of the earth, everything is somehow connected. She values the relationship that humans have with animals, land, and each other and tries to apply her beliefs towards making this relationship the best it could possibly be. When disorder happens in her life, such as illness, she turns to the Navajo way of herbs, medicinemen, prayers, songs and ceremonies. Some can see her as this freak nature lover who’s a little bit coo-coo with her strange spirituality.

From the days of her childhood in the desert of Arizona to the current withstanding time, Marilyn was and still is an adventurer at heart. She loves being able to explore and she has a level of spontaneity that aids this trait. She supposes that it’s why she’s some to be so brave and playful, but also rather reckless. Her self-indulgent ways are a negative side effect; Marilyn enjoys being able to do whatever she wants, whenever she wants. Also, Marilyn is very transparent being, as she can’t lie worth squat and doesn’t try to have many secrets.

Marilyn, in many ways, is her own person.


Heat Sand Music Singing Dancing Cop Shows Justice Adventure Trying New Things Being Outdoors Strenuous Exercise Geodes Ice Cream Rain Sleeping Wall Climbing Playing the Guitar Old Westerns Black and White Movies Playing the Drums Bright Colors The Beatles Light Reading Rice and Beans Giving People Petnames Indiana Jones Movies

The Cold Winter Coffee New Age Music Racists Sexists Vast Bodies of Water Snakes Criminals Hospitals Uptight Individuals Advanced Technology Right-Wings Destruction of Nature Dark Colors Ignorance Sweets Staying in One Spot Feeling Constrained Cities Large Crowds Animal Haters

Drowning ; Don't get her wrong, she's fine with rain and beaches, but large bodies of water themselves really intimidate her. She's no daughter of Poseidon and she's not a very strong swimmer. You'd never find her willingly swimming or boating.
Ophidiophobia ; She and Indiana Jones have a shared disdain for snakes.
Losing a family member ; Generic, yes. But unrealistic and unreasonable? No.


If you think that Marilyn has always looked the way she does, think again. She was actually quite the ugly duckling in her earlier days; she was all sharp edges with her gangly, boney limbs, and had sunken in eyes too big for her face and big buck teeth that stuck out cartoonishly. She can remember a time where she chipped a tooth while she was out playing and was teased for days by her siblings until her parents had time to bring her in to the dentist. A few of her most embarrassing photos were taken by her older sister, Audrey, and she still has them for blackmail today. Miracles do happen, fortunately for Marilyn, as she was able to leave behind her ugly duckling days.

At seventeen, Marilyn stands at about five foot seven inches or approximately one hundred and seventy centimeters. Her body has lost it's gangly quality and is now of the slender, willowy sort. She's build quite a bit of muscle from all of the exercise she does in her spare time and doesn't have any of the little scars and bruises to prove this (Apollo's healing abilities come in handy when it comes to this.) She's not really all that curvaceous, but she holds her own.

It was no surprise when Marilyn ended up inheriting characteristics of what generations of women in her family possessed, identified by russet tinted skin, wild ebony hair, and certain exotic, cat-like features. Her raven locks are lengthy, coming to rest just below the lumps of her chest, and compliment the heart shape of her tanned face. The almond shape of her chocolate brown eyes, paired with the winged nature of her eyelashes add to her exotic appeal, but are common among Navajo women.


Hastiin Tsinajinnie | Stepfather | He and Marilyn are as close as a regular father-daughter pair.
Ooljee Tsinajinnie | Mother | The two love each other. She's always seemed like an older sister more than a mother to Mari.
Audrey Tsinajinnie | Older Half-Sister | The duo are almost always arguing and bickering.
Bing Tsinajinnie | Younger Half-Brother | Marilyn loves him to bits and pieces. He was her best friend growing up.
Elizabeth Tsinajinnie | Younger Half-Sister | Marilyn loves her, but the youngest of the Tsinajinnie clan has always seemed a world apart.

Marilyn isn’t particularly close with Apollo, but she’s never really cared. He’s visited her a few times over the years due to important matters (although he visited her once to give her an earful after she said she liked this certain band) and other than that, they have no paternal bond other than what they have in blood.

Marilyn Tsinajinnie, according to her mother, was born amongst the gold of the wind-scattered sand on the hottest day of the whole year. In the deserts of Arizona, the sun beat down ruthlessly and at around mid-day, when that burning ball of fire was at it's highest, Marilyn decided that that was the time to make her appearance. Her mother later teased her saying that she could have at least waited till they got to the hospital, where air conditioning and ice water were readily available, to which Marilyn replied that she waits for no man! Still, her parents had been over joyed- her mother Ooljee and her father Hastiin- for the tiny, pink, squirmy thing known as their second daughter, who didn't at all seem to be bothered by the heat of that day which ended up giving many severe heat cramps and others even heat stroke.

Life in the desert, for many, is extremely unkind. Not just anyone can bare the blazing heat of the relentless sun or the distinct feeling of isolation due to the loneliness of the vast sand. The Navajo people, on the other hand, were made for it; they lived and breathed the very dust of the desert air and their way of life was founded upon the dryness of the land. For Marilyn, the desert is her home. The days growing up in her little Navajo reservation were her happiest.

Marilyn was a little desert fox, playing outside in the Arizona heat with the lizards and cacti known as her friends. She loved it, coming home after a day of exploration with a fresh tan and a big beaming smile which contrasted the orange of the dust on her face. She'd often take her younger brother, Bing, a boy only two years younger than her, out with her and together they'd fill their pockets full of shiny rocks that they found on their adventures, some of which they claimed were old Indian arrowheads. Their mother would simply smile and put all of their rocks in jars, then sow back up the new-made holes in their pockets.

However, there weren’t a lot of kids Marilyn’s age on their reservation other than her siblings and there wasn’t a whole lot for her to do in a small town in the middle of nowhere. When she wasn’t adventuring outside with her younger brother or riding her bike around the reservation with her big sister, Marilyn found solace in music. Their neighbour, a silver haired, leather faced old man, taught Marilyn old Navajo folk songs and how to play an acoustic guitar. He had been completely amazed by her immediate ability to play the six string, stunned by how a boney-kneed kid like her could pluck at a guitar like a pro. In the end, it was music that brought Marilyn and her biological father together.

Hastiin isn't really Marilyn's father- according to biology – and Marilyn has always known that. She knows the whole story. Marilyn's mother was only twenty-two when she briefly fell in love with a mysterious man who was passing through and this led to a night of heat and passion. However, life wasn't a romance movie in which tall, dark, and handsome marries the woman and they all live happily ever after. No, he was gone the next day, vanished to god knows where. In the end, she was on her own, heartbroken, young, and terrified of the burden of pregnancy. Hastiin was an old friend and local cop who, her mother decided, would be able to help her with it all. Neither of them realized in the beginning that they would fall in love as they did and Ooljee found that what was once a curse brought upon her from that one stranger was now a blessing. It ended in love and a baby girl named Marilyn.

Marilyn has always been extremely proud of two things: her musical ability and her Navajo heritage. The ceremonies and festivals held around the area allowed Marilyn to experience both factors to the fullest. She’d sing and dance to traditional Navajo songs, the beating of the drums resonating in her very core. She never would have expected to meet a Greek god at one of these festivities.

Being the adventurous, daring girl that she is, the ability to heal injuries or diseases has come in handy.

The Tsinajinnie children were all named after 50s movie stars, as their parents loved them so. Audrey is named after Audrey Hepburn, Bing is named after Bing Crosby, Elizabeth is named after Elizabeth Taylor, and Marilyn is named after Marilyn Monroe.
Marilyn learned how to shoot a gun at the age of nine, but had never picked up a bow and arrow until she came to the academy.
Marilyn is almost always humming a song or singing it under her breath.
She loves playing instruments, but her favorite is the acoustic guitar.
FC: Shay Mitchell


So begins...

Marilyn Tsinajinnie's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Marilyn Tsinajinnie Character Portrait: Priya Aiken Character Portrait: Hugo Rojas Character Portrait: Beau Kindle Character Portrait: Isabel Nolan Character Portrait: Abilene Beasley Character Portrait: Theodore Fawkes Character Portrait: Morgan Dufresne Character Portrait: Scott Darrow Character Portrait: Colin MacCormack Character Portrait: Chihiro Sasaki Character Portrait: Dmitri Volkov
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#, as written by Cloud




These rumours are nothing but rumblings from malcontent lesser deities.” The voice is masculine, deep, and unquestionably authoritative. Though there are many impressive figures seated in the airy chamber, there is only one who radiates such imposing power; Zeus, King of the Gods and Ruler of Olympus. Seated in majesty, he has full command of the room and his audience, his piercing eyes meeting the steady gaze of one of his daughters as he continues his strong protest, “It is idle gossip, spread no doubt by some trickster with no better use for their time.” A flap of his hand conveys his disdain for the topic and his desire to see it ended, yet his wish is unlikely to be heard. Though Zeus reigns supreme, eleven other voices may offer their own thoughts of such matters.

Father, I do not think it is wise to ignore the omens.” The steady voice of Athena advises, her arresting grey eyes displaying a clear intelligence that should warn any not to take her cautions lightly. “There are more than rumours to act as evidence. We must be cautious with how quickly we dismiss them

Zeus looks rebellious, as if he might still refuse to heed the Goddess of Wisdom’s words. Yet, before he can voice his disapproval another figure steps forward. Light catches on his golden hair, creating a halo around the god’s head, and leaving none questioning what aspect this deity holds sway. “My prophets have been making strange predictions of late.” Apollo announces, glancing from his father to the other Olympians gathered, “They speak of chaos shifting in the shadows and dark times to come.

When do they not speak of such tidings?” Came Zeus’ reply, his tone glib as he waves away Apollo’s warning. Small bolts of lightning can be seen playing around the god’s hands, proof that his irritation is mounting. Yet, that does not stop others from voicing their dissent at his attitude. Artemis, resplendent in a personalised hunting chlamys, steps forward after her brother.

My hunts have been off. Something is making the animals flighty.” She says, determined eyes on her father. “The nature spirits too can feel that something is wrong, though they know not what.” Across from the Goddess of the Hunt, Dionysus, lounging on his throne with a goblet of wine in his hands grunts his agreement, though he merely takes a sip of his drink rather than add his voice to the growing crowd.

Despite the evidence piled at his feet, Zeus still seems hesitant to accept that there might be trouble brewing. He has ruled from Olympus for centuries, content in the certainty that none could challenge him. To entertain such rumours would undermine the power he holds. His famous stubbornness, inherited by many of his illegitimate children, flares as he contemplates accepting what has so plainly been lain at his feet. Yet, he is not stupid either, and it is the weight of the next speaker that finally sees Zeus relent.

I would not disregard these warnings, brother. There have been whispers in the seas, and I fear more than one ancient beast stirs in their confines.” Poseidon’s gruff voice speaks truthfully, and with such counsels Zeus sees no other option but to give in to the demands of his divine family.

Fine, check the chains. Check that the lesser gods are not questioning their loyalty, but do so quietly. I would not wish to create more trouble should these whispers turn out to be nothing but lies.” Zeus’ eyes sweep across the hall, taking in the other Olympians gathered. Hades is the only one absent, yet it is to the deepest pits of Hell that all their minds turned, “Tartarus has never been breached before, yet should its bars be weakened, Apollo’s prophets might finally have their doom and destruction.

Zeus words reverberate in the columned chamber, the only noise in the room as a temporary shadow descends on those gathered at the very mention of ‘Tartarus’. Seconds pass as minutes, time in the Halls of the Gods taking on a life of its own as the thought of what might come hangs over them all. The first to break the silence is not Zeus, but the kind voice of Demeter.

What of Eupheus?” She asks while a sprouting vine curls slowly up her arm.

Yes, yes. Send someone down there with word. They should know if this nonsense comes to fruition.” Zeus sighs with a casual wave of his hand, obviously done with the conversation. All eyes turn to Hermes, who gives a bright smile as he pushes himself to his feet.

I guess that’s my cue.” He says with a smirk, golden wings sprouting from the leather sandals that decorate his feet. “As the Mortals say these days, don’t wait up.” Hermes adds with a teasing salute, before he’s gone in the blink of an eye.




Far below, mountains, plains, and seas pass by in the blink of an eye. Hermes, the Messenger of the Gods, deity of travellers, sports, trade, and thieves (to name a few), should be fast, it is what he was born to do. Faster than the wind, faster than any fictional superhero, and faster than the quickest man-made airplane, Hermes zips across the skies at a break neck speed. He crosses the English Channel mere seconds after giving his farewells to his brethren, flying over bustling cities, lush, green countryside, and twisting roads that begin to disappear as he reaches the isolated corner of Wales where the children of the Gods learn.

The closest village is a twenty minute drive through winding roads and overhanging trees. Argoed is small, yet it is the frequent destination of the older Eupheus students when they wish to take a day trip out of the boarding school, a privilege given only to the older students provided they stay in the teachers’ good books. All the basic amenities can be found within the town’s small limits; a café, intimate restaurant, post shop, small supermarket, and even a tiny cinema that runs on weekends. More than the basic shops, the town plays home to a large community of mature demi-gods, ex-students of Eupheus who wish to live amongst their own where they aren't forced to hide their inherited powers from prying neighbours. The town itself is pretty, with an odd combination of Ancient Greek architecture and quaint thatched rooves. At first glance it looks very much like any other village one might drive through in the United Kingdom, until you notice the town square boarded by Greek Doric columns or the modest temple set off the main road which houses statues of the Greek gods.

But it is not the village which holds Hermes’ interest this day, instead it is the school. Sitting on the edge of a pristine lake, Eupheus gleams in the early morning sun. Its grounds are extensive and dotted with facilities that one would both expect and not expect to find at a private boarding school. A boat shed stands on the banks of the lake beside a small jetty, further around and up on a small cliff stand the stables, which house Pegasi rather than normal horses. The main body of the school stands in a large clearing just back from the lake, with dormitories to one side and the classrooms to the other. A dining hall and large kitchen, open-air amphitheatre, indoor pool and training facilities for physical and powers training can be found just behind these buildings, their architecture a mixture of modern sleek, Victorian grandeur, and ancient Greek openness. Many of the buildings are connected by stoas, covered walkways with Doric columns lining the sides. Statues large and small can be found around the school grounds of the gods and goddesses that rule from Olympus, as well as plaques bearing the names of famous demi-gods whose stories are still told today by mortals and demi-gods alike.

As Hermes rushes towards the school he’s aware as always of the presence of his own children, though for now he does not deviate from his mission. Rather than stop to see what pranks his offspring have dreamed up for the start of the year, he directs his flight towards the council room where he senses he will find the recipients for his message. A large room welcomes him, a circular table taking pride of place in the middle while the dozen teachers who make up the ruling board of the school gather around its edge. They stand as he comes to a stop by the door, his appearance to their eyes no doubt looking as if he stepped out of mid-air.

My lord Hermes,” one teacher says, his tone respectful as ever. The dark skinned man isn’t one of Hermes’ children, though the God recognises him as Hephaestus’ spawn and the teacher of the Rustic powers, Ciao Kywaku. “To what do we owe this hon-…” He begins to say, before Hermes waves away the formalities.

No time for that. I have to run.” Hermes interrupts as he pulls an old scroll from a bag that magically appears at his side, “Message from the top.

The twelve shift as they watch Hermes handing the message to Ciao, their interest piqued instantly. Though the gods' own children attend Eupheus, it’s not always common to receive such messages from Olympus. As Hermes is handing over the missive more scrolls magically appear in his bag, glowing a warm golden hue as each new scroll joins the collection already there. At least five have appeared in such a fashion in the time that Hermes has been with them and the god responds to the extra work with a light, “Never a moment’s rest.” Rather than staying to expand on whatever might or might not be contained in the message, Hermes takes his leave, duty calling him away. With a wink at his son, Lawrence, Hermes departs, leaving as abruptly as he arrived and causing more than a few papers to flutter in his wake.

Only after the god has left does the council return to their seats, all eyes on Ciao as he breaks the seal on the scroll and carefully unrolls it. In his deep, South African accent he conveys the message sent from the gods, his tone growing worried as words such as ‘Tartarus’ and ‘titans’ appear. Finally Ciao reaches the end of the message and places the scroll tentatively on the table, his intelligent eyes looking up to meet the gazes of his colleagues. There is a moment of silence as around the table the teachers shift, absorbing all the implications of what this could mean for the school. Lawrence Stone gives a sigh, sitting back in his chair and racing both hands through his hair, while Dale Cooper, son of Zeus and the sky instructor breaks the silence by giving a nervous whistle. Leda Cooper, Dale’s wife and daughter of Asclepius takes his hand and addresses the rest of the council,

If these warnings prove truthful we will need to protect the children somehow.

Across the table heads nod, though voices join Leda’s to raise concern over how to protect their charges against whatever enemies the titans may conjure up. They all realise that should these rumours turn out to be truths, the children they’re to teach could very well be the pivotal pieces of the war, or sadly the pawns with which the gods move and sacrifice as they see fit. The last option is not one any of them likes to contemplate, but there is no avoiding what may likely happen.

If it comes to war they will have to fight.” Alkippe remarks. The Centauride is wise, her advice and insight valued by everyone on the council.

Many of the children can’t fight.” August, half satyr and half wood nymph, protests.

They will all have to contribute to the effort.” Alkippe responds before turning to the Amazon beside her as Andronika leans forward to speak,

August is correct though, many of the children would be unprepared for a battle.” She says as her strong gaze glides around the table, “We will need to begin preparing them properly, increasing their power and physical training, working on defences, and so forth.

Hold on, hold on.” Dale protests in his distinctive southern drawl, “We don’t even know if the titans are waking and we’re already planning on putting the kids through military boot camp? They’re kids, damnit, not marines.

Silent thus far and sitting quietly to the side, Lysandros has merely been watching the debate. As the son of a titan his loyalty has been questioned more than once, though his connections also make him a valuable source of information regarding the primal immortals. It is now that he speaks up, his soft voice carrying easily. “If the titans break from Tartarus, it will take everything the gods have to put them back. That includes their children fighting for them.” His words hang heavily in the air and there as a pause as he lets them sink in before directing his next words at Dale, “Would you rather prepare the children and give them a fighting chance, or have them outmatched should war break out?

The logic of the statement is not lost on any of them and it is decided that training will increase, though, before the council is dismissed Ciao rises his voice again, “Do we tell the students of what might come?

No, we do not want to cause panic.” Comes his answer from Alkippe, “We will keep them safe in ignorance for as long as possible, and hope that our worries will come to nothing.

With subdued minds the council is closed, and the teachers head towards the dining hall where the students are due to gather. Orientation day, the first day back at Eupheus, is meant to be a happy time; a day to look forward to the year to come. Yet, with such ominous tidings to start the year, many teachers are already questioning just what there is to look forward to.