Description

Personality

To be the son of Hades... That was the terrible thing that had been revealed to him two years ago, and had ultimatly caused this. Although, it was also his and his mother's fault. Their unwillingness to leave each other had attracted this hell hound to him. Although, it's odd. He could have sworn he had divine right to command creatures of the Underworld... unless the command had come from someone higher up on the chain... That didn't make sense, Hades had just seen him and given him a sword of his own. Hades could be cruel and demanding of his children, but David didn't think that he could be this cruel.

He had come home from school to find a strange man sitting in the kitchen. He was laughing and talking animatedly with his mother. He was immediatly filled with apprehension; there was something strange about this man, something that set him on edge. "David! Come in here dear, come meet your father." The words had hit him like a load of bricks. All his exagerated toughness that he had displayed to his friends, the feigned attitude of, "I don't care about my good-for-nothing-father", disapeared instantly, because secretly he had always wanted to meet the man that had sired him. He wanted to get to know him, to find out more about him, to have him in his life. It had been a rough road for his mother. Raising a kid with AD/HD and dyslexia would be difficult for any parent, and she did it alone for the first five years of his life while going to school and working nights at the strip club.

It had been a rough road and that had affected who he was now. Sure, he was human, sort of. He had emotions, dreams and desires and aspirations. Unfortunatly, he hides them under a nigh unbreakable tough exterior. He is honorable and loyal to the few friends he has. He never let the world get the best of him, and cultivated a drive to succeed that is only checked by his dyslexia. In that way, he mirrors his father more than he knows.

It was that same drive that drove him to continue on despite hunger, cold, and sleep depravity. He didn't know if he had lost the monster that killed his mother in the subway. He kept looking over his shoulder, waiting to see it bounding down the road after him. He looked forward and jogged in silence for a few more minutes. Then, he heard a noise behind him, still far off, but it was certainly the snarling of that damned hound. He forced the fear down as it fought to let out a cry of despair. He picked up the pace, well aware of the fact that there was no way he would be able to out run the damn thing. His mind raced as he tried to think of something to do once it caught up with him.

Minutes passed, and the sun was just coming up as the snarls and hungry snaps of the fiery beast grew louder. It was gaining speed now, taking huge leaps that set the forrest ablaze. At last, David took a look back at the creature. It was about a hundred yards from him, and was closing that distance in ten yard leaps. His mind races as he looks for an out. He turns up nothing on the first three trys, even given his knowledge and limited practice with the sword that hung at his side. But then he sees the long shadows of the trees. His mind stops cold for just miliseconds, then considers it. He doesn't even know if he can do it or not, but it's the only way out. Hades had only mentioned it, but he would have to try.

He comes to an immediate halt, and turns to face the creature, his face set in lines of determination. He waits, taking over-eager nervous steps forward, waiting till the beast takes a final lunge and dives into a roll under it that sends him tumbling across the asphault and the hound beast into a painful face plant. David takes a quick second to press his hand to the new wound that opened up on his stomach and then staggers up, the heat from the flaming beast unbearable, the stench of rotting flesh sickening. He has to move now, and he does. It feels like he sprained his ankle, but it doesn't matter. He dashes forward and leaps into a shadow, only the idea of the place he wants to go in his mind.

Suddenly, the world goes very dark, and the speed it feels he is moving is painfully fast. He emerges on the other side, falling out of a shadow made by a tree inside of Camp Half-Blood. He is tired, more tired than he has ever been in his life. The pain in his body is distant and detatched; right now he knows only one sensation, that of victory. He won, the hell hound lost. He is alive, and it's eating asphault somewhere down the road. He passes out, the gasps and exclamations of the startled campers around him not even registering to him.

Equipment

Stygian Iron Sword, given to him by his father a week ago on his thirteenth birthday, a set of stygian iron armor: a breast plate, plate skirt, helmet arm bracers, given him on his fourteenth(Now left at the ruined appartment), and just recently, on his fifteenth he had been shown how to use his abilities, including the mist. Unfortunatly he lacks the training for most of these weapons. Oh, and Hades did bring him a set of books written in ancient greek, a history of the gods and previous heros.

History

To be revealed as people come to know more about him.