Application post.

Name: Mal
Email: karmaschild [at] gmail [dot] com
AIM: KarmasChild

Character name: Aaron Richard Carbone
Character journal: forgeandflames
Physical description:
Age: 15
DOB: August 12
PB: Skandar Keynes

God parent: Hephaesteus
Mortal parent: Valerie Isabella Carbone
# of summers at camp: 2
Summer camper or year-rounder: Summer camper.
Additional skills/abilities: Skilled at forging weapons, especially swords and armor. A bit of a pyromaniac. He is immune to burns from fire and flames never injure him. He can also control an already burning fire, though he can't create fire from nothing. He is unaware of his ability to control fire at this time.


Backstory: Valerie Carbone met the man who would be Aaron's father when she was twenty and working as a jeweler. Valerie was gifted with shaping precious metals into tiny, delicate pieces which seemed to take on life in her hands. Her work was so exquisite that it caught many an eye... including the eye of a man with a deep, gravelly voice and several unfortunate burn scars. Coming off a string of unfortunate relationships, a few cosmetic imperfections were hardly a blip on her radar and she found herself spending a lot of time with the man she came to know as Richard.

Her work being what it was, Valerie made good money for herself and when she discovered she was pregnant - even though her relationship with Richard was in the off again stage of 'on again, off again' - she determined she would keep the baby and raise it herself, with or without the father's assistance. When she made her condition and her decision known to him, Richard revealed himself to be Hephaestus, God of fire and the forge. The life of a demi-god was not easy, he warned her, nor was the life of the mortal parent of said demi-god, but Valerie wasn't swayed. His revelation merely cemented her belief that her child was special. She told him that she would see the pregnancy through.

Just about nine months later, Aaron Richard Carbone made his debut into the world.

Aaron's early life was marked by the usual demi-god troubles. He was diagnosed with ADD early on and the diagnosis followed him through school like a scarlet letter. Every year, a new teacher would take one look at the rambunctious boy's school record and promptly give up on him. Weeks later, he or she would find themselves baffled when - in spite of a complete lack of attention and participation in class - Aaron made straight A's on all his tests. More often than not, it was chalked up to cheating or luck, or both.

Due to his mother's affluence and his occasionally odd behavior, he found himself with a reputation among his peers as a spoiled brat and as a result, he had few friends growing up. Though he received a great deal of support at home from his mother, he still found himself to be lonely. Occasional visits from his father - known to him as Richard - helped a little in the moment, but made him even lonelier when the visit was over. His only comfort was the one friend he'd managed to make and keep. More than anything, he longed for a normal life with a normal family.

Normal was not meant to be. In his first few weeks of eighth grade, Aaron was involved in what would later be reported as a heinous act of school vandalism. The entire school gym building burned to the ground amid an altercation between Aaron and two school bullies. Aaron would later swear that the bullies took shapes that were not human and attacked him with claws, sharp teeth, fire breath, and generally just trying to kill him. Only his mother believed him. The school had him expelled and charges were pressed, though later dropped thanks to pressure from an unknown benefactor.

That incident would make the beginning of a new life for Aaron. His mother and father actually sat down and had a meal together, with him. His parents revealed to him his incredible parentage and explained just what it meant to be a demi-god. That monsters would follow him all his life and that he would have to learn to defend himself or he would be killed. Thus, Aaron found himself spending his very first summer at Camp Half Blood.

Since the gym incident, Aaron has survived two summers at Camp Half Blood and, more importantly, two more years in the mortal world. This will mark his third summer at the camp.


Sample post:

"Art! Hey, Art!"

Aaron didn't respond to the shout except to sigh heavily and lean further in to the chassis of the '83 Ford Ranger in front of him. How the school's shop class managed to consistently land such crappy vehicles each year for the students to work on was beyond him. You'd think that one day, they would run out of garbage and have to move onto the decent pieces. Eh, motors weren't his first love, anyway, but a period of shop got him out of a period of gym. It was well worth it.

"I was talking to you, Arty. Didn't you hear me?" A red-haired boy with the most irritatingly geometric freckle design across his nose was leaning way in to sneer at Aaron. Aaron looked up reluctantly, aware of the grease smudge on his face that nearly mirrored the other boy's freckle field.

"I didn't hear my name, so I didn't respond," he answered calmly. Deep down, he was already aggravated to the point of near violence, but as per his mother's request, he was going to try to make it through this year without being expelled. Ten more days... only ten.

"That's what your best buddy calls you, isn't it?" Freckles steeped his voice in mock dismay.

Aaron sighed again and mentally counted backward from ten. "No. It isn't. He calls me Arc."

"What, like the boat?" Aaron could hear snickering from across the shop, but he didn't look up to see which morons were joining in the fun this time. Freckles was grinning like he'd just made the best joke ever.

"No, idiot. Like my initials." Yeah, so much for pretending to be nice. Aaron's fingers twitched on the greasy, rusty metal he leaned against. The tips of his fingers brushed against the cool, reassuring steel of a large wrench. It might become a fight, but it would be a short one. Freckles was a garden variety bully. Nothing special.

"Is there a problem here, Mister Carbone?" The shop teacher, Ms. Feelds, was looming over the two boys like some buff, middle-aged gargoyle.

"No, ma'am," he answered instantly. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Freckles snag a screwdriver off of the bumped of his car and smile at the teacher.

"Just a tool, Ms. Feelds." More snickering from across the room. Muscles bunched under Aaron's shirt as he struggled not to give in to the urge to leap onto the other boy and throttle him.

"Move along then, Mister Mason." She watched Freckles with her beady little eyes until he had returned to his work station. Then she turned them back on Aaron. "That transmission isn't going to fix itself, Mister Carbone."

"Yes, ma'am," he repeated before he bent his head back under the hood and returned to work. All the while he muttered to himself, under his breath: Ten more days... ten more days...