Posts by ALIAS MCARTHUR

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  • *✧·˚. WE ARE L E G E N D S | PRIVATE OH PLOTS

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    legitimately, everyone on this thread is such a qt
    it's not even funny
    and i feel like they're all in a friend group
    save for the ones who kind of hate everyone
    but i mean rob is still apart of the gang bc rob is also such a qt and auri loves him
    we need like a whole other rival group guys

  • ADD IT ALL UP / private / I CAN FIND IT

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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:440px; background: #f0f0f0; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; color: #1f1f1f; text-align: justify; padding: 50px;]ALIAS MCARTHUR . SON OF ZEUS . POWERS .


    // i wrote this as if they were both crouched by the rival team’s base, in sight of the flag. sorry, it's a bit shorter than i wanted, but i'm at school and wanted to get it to you a.s.a.p.


    Silence. It pressed heavily onto the back of his broad shoulders like a weight, and carried an air of suspense close behind. On any other occasion, the sounds of nature would soothe any ominous premonitions, but even the trees seemed to hold their breaths and cease their gentle whispers. There was no echo of rustling of leaves, no soft trickle of water flowing along a shallow brooke, the only sound that filled his ears was the far-away rhythm of his patient heart beating.


    Something was about to happen. He could feel it, and his body anticipated it with chords of muscle tensed and wound, waiting to react to whatever was coming. The ache of keeping such a stressed stance for a handful of prolonged minutes was overshadowed by the adrenaline that pumped in thick doses through a synapses of blue veins. A stone mask of concentration was pulled over his sweat slicked forehead, and stretched across the pointed angles of his cheekbones. The son of Zeus was ready for anything. His eyes, however, were trained unfailingly on a single destination. It was marked clearly, blood red fabric draping regally against the sturdy metal pole that held the flag upwards with pride. There, that was where his internal navigating system was directing him over and over again, without the irritating, monotonous voice that often accompanied modern technology. No, it was a real voice urging him forwards with clever strategies and reverberating within the depths of his mind; a voice that he recognized but could not put a face to. They were going to get that flag.


    A flash of color blurred in the periphery of his vision, it was a bright red streak, as if the desired flag had suddenly come to life with a sudden start. Crystalline eyes, as haunting as the stark color of his hair, were dragged towards the hasty movement with the hunger of an awaiting predator. But the flag was still there, planted firmly in the dirt of a jutting, rocky alcove at the base of a short precipice. The stripe of moving color, he discerned with ease, was a competitor hoping the guard their banner, the other male's shirt the same shade of scarlet. Alias could see them, but they could not see Alias or his nearby companion.


    A smile curved the edges of his peach lips upwards in a satisfied fashion, and Alias leaned towards her, his partner, with an easy precision. Cerulean oculars were kept trained on the rival standing a ways before them despite his movement, and his shift made no sound as he crouched on the earthy forest ground. ”At least he’s wearing red,” a low voice breathed almost as quiet as the air around them, ”won’t be able to see any blood.” There was a hint of morbid humor buried within his words, and Alias did not try to hide it in the least. It was an arrogant foretelling of how he thought the events to come would go down. The silver haired boy had no doubt that he and Brooke would be able to claim what they had come for; the crimson flag that contrasted sharply with their own blue team shades.


    "We should move while we have one of them in sight, but there's undoubtedly more hiding nearby."


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  • CHAPTER ONE: DIVE IN DEEP // PRIVATE FOR OLYMPIAN HILL

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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:440px; background: #f0f0f0; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; color: #1f1f1f; text-align: justify; padding: 50px;]ALIAS MCARTHUR . SON OF ZEUS . POWERS .


    "Just stop right here."


    Alias ducks his head down, chin tilted towards his chest as he narrows his cerulean eyes, combating the tint of the stretched, limousine window he gazes out of. He can hear someone shift in the row of perpendicular seats before him, and when the son of Zeus glances towards the source of the sound, he meets the confused expression of his driver. The man looks to be barely forty years old, but his eyes are already coated with a glaze that says he has no ambition, and Alias can feel himself starting to judge the man that just lugged him from the busy city airport to what looks like a useless parking lot. He stops himself as soon as he starts though, as thoughts of his mother flash in the depths of his mind in response to the parallels of their personality traits.


    "You want me to stop right here?" The driver inquires, translating the confusing displayed on his features and tilting his head to look past his passenger and out the window behind him. The nearly empty parking lot that he scrutinizes must look extremely suspicious, like the sort of place that ordinary people would assume drug cartels and mafias meet up to deal with business, Alias realizes. He suppresses the smirk curving his lips at the notion, and contorts it into a charming, cordial smile.


    "Yes." He answers simply, already opening the limousine door and stretching out his leg, and then the rest of his body, a grey duffel bag slung across his shoulder. Alias shuts the door with an easy push, digging his wallet out of his pocket as he walks the short distance to the driver's side door. The window is already rolled down, the driver looking at him, and then back at the lonely car in the even lonelier parking lot with a sort of cautious expression. He almost flinches when Alias hands him a one hundred dollar bill, before, of course, he realizes the considerably larger amount he was payed than that which he was actually owed. The driver takes the money hastily, smiles hastily (as if he is in on some kind of secret), mumbles a "thank you" and "good bye" hastily, and then drives away hastily. Alias can't help but raise a hand in au revoir as dust swirls behind the departing vehicle, an amused chuckle rumbling in the base of his throat at the situation he had caused.


    After the limousine is out of sight, Alias permits himself to turn around, to gaze at the scene before him. It's not much, it really isn't, the almost-empty parking lot; but it holds wonderful omens of what's to come and what has been. The demigod wastes no time walking through the parking lot, his silver hair stirring ever so slightly in the wind, as if someone close had breathed gently upon it. The cracked pavement below his feet gets rough and fades away into a rocky terrain, one that he grows accustomed to almost immediately before he realizes that he's starting to walk along the rackety old bridge that leads into Olympian Hill. His body doesn't lurch in fear as it did his first time walking into this safe haven, when he thought the bridge was going to crumble beneath him five years ago. Now, he smiles to himself as the wood turns to stone, looking down at the different shades of the rock.


    The sudden burst of excited sounds pierces his ears, drawing his attention upwards- people mill about with chattering voices and easy smiles. And there's someone standing there, someone so familiar in the crowd of otherwise newer faces, that he's instantly drawn towards her. "Looking for someone?" He asks, coming up next to Jo as if it was a casual meeting. He gazes at the other campers, just as she had been doing, before turning towards her and leaning in slightly. "Someone who has a name that starts with an 'O', perhaps?" Alias asks, his smile, this time, transitioning into a playful smirk.


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  • CHAPTER ONE: DIVE IN DEEP // PRIVATE FOR OLYMPIAN HILL

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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:440px; background: #f0f0f0; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; color: #1f1f1f; text-align: justify; padding: 50px;]ALIAS MCARTHUR . SON OF ZEUS . POWERS .


    His eyebrows rose at Jo's response to his mocking question, the smirk still etched firmly onto his lips. Alias parted them, words of a retort on the tip of his tongue, but the Zeus demigod was cut off before he could even start. The excited shout echoed firmly across camp, reverberating a tone that he recognized instantly. When the owner of the voice crashed into Jo with a fierce hug, Alias didn't even have to look to know that it was Aurelia. The male's eyebrows stayed raised at the very forceful 'hello', but he waited his turn.


    Soon enough, a pair of thin arms wrapped themselves around his torso, tightening him in her embrace. He was a bit caught off guard at the force of the hug, he was used to the embrace of human girls, having spent the year leading up to this in their company only. Alias hugged her back, a sarcastic laugh echoing from his mouth at her question; "have you been working out?'


    "This is just all in my genes, baby." He gestured to his entire body as an arrogant response to her question, welcoming the banter that he had missed between the two. Slight movement pulled his eyes towards Micha, someone friends with many of his friends, but not necessarily friends with him- which was fine, there was no bad blood between the two, they just weren't close. He was holding up a piece of paper with a cordial welcome written upon it, and Alias responded with a nod of his head and an equally welcoming smile, "long time no see, Micha." Yes, the son of Zeus could be very lovely company, when he wanted to be, or of course, when he wanted something.


    Alias readjusted the duffle bag strap slung across his shoulder blade, and saluted the small group that had gathered in a casual goodbye. He could see the towering oak trunks that signified the entrance to the Zeus cabin, and was soon at the front doors. Alias swiftly headed towards his room to but down his belongings, which were solely held within the one bag that he had brought. Sure, he had many possessions at his home (which he rarely visited for very personal reasons), but only a few that he actually needed.


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  • CHAPTER ONE: DIVE IN DEEP // PRIVATE FOR OLYMPIAN HILL

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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:440px; background: #f0f0f0; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; color: #1f1f1f; text-align: justify; padding: 50px;]ALIAS MCARTHUR . SON OF ZEUS . POWERS .


    The matte marron walls cast a familiar glow upon his face as Alias stepped into his room. There was a large bed, made and folded with thick, navy sheets, as if awaiting his presence. He breathed in the air of the room, the faint scent of charred maple wafting through his senses as he set his duffel bag onto the bed. Alias did a three-sixty turn, taking in the familiarity of the room that he had missed, and wondering why he hadn't opted to stay here year-round. After all, he had nobody in New York, just a too big, too fancy town house, with too much money that he didn't know what to do with. He had tried to go home last year, he really did, but just ended up traveling within the months leading up to summer again.


    And now here he was. Home.


    The door to his room had been thrown open wide, and as the shadow of someone walking by was cast onto the wooden floor before him, Alias glanced at the hallway with his cerulean blue eyes. He caught a glimpse of his half-brother, Jackson, but didn't look long, not bothering to say even a quick 'hello'. The two Zeus demigods seemed to like to pretend that they weren't actually related in any way, which was just fine with Alias.


    The phone only had to ring a moment before Alias was fishing it out of his pocket and pressing it to his ear, not even bothering to look at who was calling. He was about to voice a greeting, but Auriella's voice swiftly intercepted him; "hey, wanna meet up for lunch?" Alias was already shutting the oak-planed door to his room behind him, switching the phone from his right ear to his left as he walked out of the Zeus cabin.


    "Yeah," he answered her, "i'll meet you outside the Hades cabin and you can pick the place." Alias was already nearing the front entrance to her cabin, and was soon leaning on the dark, contemporary posts that supported the structure, waiting for Auriella. Olympian Hill was certainly a big place, it had to be to contain the ever-growing number of demigods, but the cabins never seemed very far apart for him.


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  • CHAPTER ONE: DIVE IN DEEP // PRIVATE FOR OLYMPIAN HILL

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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:440px; background: #f0f0f0; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; color: #1f1f1f; text-align: justify; padding: 50px;]ALIAS MCARTHUR . SON OF ZEUS . POWERS .


    The pace at which Auriella was walking was easily matched by Alias’ long strides. He fell into step beside her with familiarity, despite the amount of time he had spent away from Olympian Hill. Still, it was always easy for him to feel at ease with those that he had formed a bond with- something that the demigod took very seriously.


    A blue gaze lazily took in the familiar surroundings before him, clocking in on old faces and deciphering new ones to preserve within his memory. Sharp sounds of laughter and other noises occasionally turned Alias’ head this way and that as he searched for the cause of the ruckus in an instinctually calculating manner. So, when Auriella spoke, he flicked his eyes in her direction before they shifted with movement elsewhere again. But, of course, Alias heard her and gave nod, ”mhmm, i’ll try to find us one in the shade, it’s f.cking hot out here.”


    The zeus demigod easily split from her side as they entered the periphery of the lunch destination they often frequented with a few others. One light hand casually scratched through the thick, silver mess that was his hair as his sight roamed the tables available. There was only one desirable one, nestled in a spacious corner, underneath a shaded awning; but, a group of four were already sitting there, chatting among themselves as they split a plate of some sort of small meal. He stood at the entrance of the place for a moment, but it didn’t take much pondering for him to decide that he really wanted that table. So, he sauntered over to it.


    ”Hey,” he leaned his forearms casually along the front of the wooden plane, an easy smile tilting his lips with a charming air as he looked at them each in turn, ”Alias Mcarthur. Wow, I feel so bad asking this-” he didn’t ”-but my friends and I, well, it’s tradition for us to sit at this exact table every time we see each other again at camp,” it wasn’t, ”and I know i’ve been coming to this place for five years, and my father is Zeus and all, but I really don’t like to use that against some of the newer members here, so you don’t have to move if you don’t want to, it’s fine, really.” No, not really. ”But it would mean so much to me, and, well, you’d definitely be in my favor for capture the flag or some other event.” The manipulation dripped off of his tongue like sweet honey, and if that didn’t win them over, then the tilted smirk he gave them as he straightened up did. The foursome were gone in a minute, with the reluctance of only one of the group, whom Alias chose to ignore out of his good graces. Soon, he was leaning back against his chair in the cool shade of the awning.


    Leaning his head to the side, Alias lifted his chin to see where Auriella was in line. He easily recognized her among the crowd, and Calla was with her, speaking something with what he assumed would be her usual sass. He raised his hand up into the air with a wave, knowing that he’d greet her eventually, anyways.


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  • VARIOUS STORMS & SAINTS — OLYMPIAN HILL

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    [glow=black,2,300]ALIAS MCARTHUR[/glow]
    MOUTH FULL OF WHITE LIES
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    [justify][fancypost bgcolor= white; border: 1px solid white; color: black; width: 444px; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px;]
    FULL NAME&& Alias Mcarthur
    NICKNAME(S)&& The most frequent nickname he hears is 'Ali', which is used in a mostly affectionate manner. He doesn't mind nicknames, and will answer to them either way.
    GENDER/GENDER IDENTITY&& male ; he/him pronouns
    SEXUAL/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION&& heterosexual
    DATE OF BIRTH&& April seventeenth
    AGE&& eighteen years old
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    RANK/BRANCH&& hunter
    PARENTS&& His father is Zeus, and his mother is a mere mortal.
    CABIN&& The Zeus cabin.
    WEAPON&& His weapon of choice is a basic, long, light sword.
    POWERS/ABILITIES&& Alias is very skilled at ELECTROKINESIS. The ability to control and manipulate electricity and lightening. He is partially skilled at ATMOKINESIS. The ability to control and manipulate the weather, which contains different sub-powers, including Electrokinesis. He is somewhat skilled at AEROKINESIS. The ability to manipulate the air and wind.
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    APPEARANCE&&
    —BODY MODIFICATION&& Alias has no body modifications.
    —CLOTHING STYLE&& Growing up as a wealthy boy in Manhattan, New York, Alias has always been given and worn nicer clothes. Of course, coming to Olympian Hill, he has toned it down considerably, but his everyday clothes still consist of expensive brands and he still keeps a rather fashionable look.
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    PERSONALITY&& Sure, he's CHARMING when you first meet him, just as STRATEGIC WITH HIS WORDS as he's STRATEGIC ON THE BATTLEFIELD, he's CALCULATING, and you should be too when you talk to him, because he's A MASTER AT MANIPULATION. Of course, if you want to align yourself with someone, it'll be him. He's extremely LOYAL to his friends, and will pull any strings to get you out of a rut. Of course, if anyone breaks his loyalty, he'll bit back with poisonous REVENGE. If you're ever looking for him, stop by the TRAINING FIELD or a POPULAR SOCIALIZING LOCATION.
    —TRAITS&& charming, manipulative, charismatic, sarcastic, arrogant, proud, conflicted, greif-filled, masked, sociable
    —STRENGTHS&& He is an amazing strategist, and has a way of thinking about the battlefield that allows him to come up with complex and efficient plans within his head. The son of Zeus is also rather in tune with his powers, and they fascinate him. Therefore, he is quite skilled with a few of them. Alias is superb at wielding a sword and his endurance and speed makes up for his lack of packed muscle.
    —WEAKNESSES&& Alias is rather proud, and if his pride is hurt he'll want revenge or will make himself extremely difficult to work with. He is also stubborn, and when he comes up with a plan, he wants everyone to follow it, believing it to be the best.
    —FEARS&& failure, facing his past & mistakes
    —LIKES&& answer here
    —DISLIKES&& answer here
    HISTORY&& When he was younger, Alias grew up in Manhattan, New York. He wasn't granted the fortune of running the streets, and was instead nearly suffocated (figuratively, of course) by his very protective mother. He would spend his days going to a prestigious Manhattan private school, which was a solace for the social young boy who wasn't chained down by his controlling mother during the school day. Afterwards, he would be charted off to piano lessons, then a preparatory class to push him ahead of the game in studies, and finally Alias would be driven home to study and finish his homework. Weekends would entail a whole block of activities intended to groom him for greatness, at least that's what Aileen, his mother, planned. There's no doubt that her continual manipulation was where Alias got the trait.
    When Alias reached middle school, he was quick to sign up for football and rugby, now able to use his own personality to convince his mother that it would look good on his resume. In reality, he wanted more time away from her, more time to actually make friends. And it worked. Academics didn't seem to be the only thing Alias had an aptitude for, and sports came naturally for him. It was a place to relieve himself of all the emotions he was told that a "proper young boy" didn't portray to the world.
    A few days after his fifteenth birthday, Alias started high school. He assumed that this milestone would ensure that his mother would grant him more freedom, but that was not the case. They began to argue constantly, and Alias decided to make his own decisions, lashing out against Aileen's rules. On the night of Halloween, when he was supposed to be at home with his mother, the boy decided that he would go out with his friends. After all, who wants to spend Halloween indoors? Alias came home in the hazy hours of the early morning, fatigued and looking for the comfort of his awaiting bed. Not wanting to turn on any lights, he crept through the shadowed parlor, only to stop as a liquid substance oozed underneath his feet. With knitted eyebrows, he stepped back instinctually, running his hand along the wall to switch on the lights. As illumination flooded the room, his breath hitched in the hollow of his throat, body tensing with coiled muscle. His mother was sitting in the smooth armchair that she could often be found in, book lain upon her lap and head lolled to the side as if she had just dozed off. But the red line of blood spilling from the slash against her throat promised that she would never wake up again.
    Alias just stood there. And stood there. And stood there. He stood there as a banging erupted from his door; he stood there as police filed into his home, speaking about an unknown caller; he stood there as he was gently escorted to an ambulance and checked over by a medic; and he stood there as they labeled his mother murdered, deciding that she died about three hours after Alias had left her. They never found the killer, and he never stopped looking after inheriting a fortune that most would only dream about at the age of fifteen years old. A few months after, however, Alias was relieved of his loneliness, relieved of the home that haunted him when he was told of Olympian Hill. There he could start over, and he did. He never spoke of his mother, never thought of her unless he was training or fighting, which was still away for him to purge the pain that he felt.
    Alias is now a rather known figure at Olympus Hill, having been there for almost three years. Other habitants know him as a charming, charismatic fellow, who can be prideful and arrogant in the manner of his speaking. Of course, he was groomed to speak that way by his mother, who taught him to be prideful of what he has and what others don't. Alias has tried to step away from this ideology, but still bites his tongue at times… hard. Of course, you can't really change to deeper personality of a person. He has noticed over the years that he, as well, has inherited the manipulation of his mother, and has decided to accept this. After all, is is a tool that can come in handy when need be. Contrary to Aileen, however, Alias does not try to change people. He either likes them or he doesn't, and if he does, then he stays by them, and if he doesn't.. well, he either tolerates them or disregards them. Of course, with a strong personality like his, he's bound to have enemies. But Alias likes to think that they make things more interesting.
    —PARENTS&& Zeus is his father, as he just found out ; his mother, Aileen, is deceased.
    —SIBLINGS&& Alias has a half brother that he never knew about, his name is Jackson and their relationship is rather complicated.
    —RELATIVES&& Alias does not keep touch with his mother's relatives, and tends to brush off his half-brother.
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    RELATIONSHIP STATUS&& Alias is single, though he has been known to mingle. (@me, why?)
    LOVE INTEREST&& will plot
    BOYFRIEND/GIRLFRIEND&& none at the moment
    FRIENDS/RIVALS&& will plot
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    [color=black]OTHER&& answer here
    FACE&& answer here
    PLOT IDEAS&& answer here
    PRONOUNS answer here
    USERNAME answer here
    NICKNAMES answer here
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