Titans
Children of the Titans.
Immortal to age, greater power, greater knowledge. Harder to kill.
Akheron Metaxas
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/__9253053.jpg)
Akheron Metaxas
30 (appears 19)
son of Menoitios
titan god of rash anger
Kin: n/a
Friends: Vrykolakas Stavros, Jace Rowlings
Rivals: none
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: none
Akheron is rather opposite of his father, the titan god of rash anger. Akheron is rather calm, if not a bit adventurous and excitable. Still, he works very hard at keeping his temper under control. He was born in Greece where he met Vrykolakas. The two of them met Jace who moved there from England. The three became very close because of what they were, and they are often seen traveling together. He often takes on the fatherly role of the group, seeing as he is the oldest.
Akheron has platinum blonde hair and icy blue eyes with violet tinges to them. He has a large scar over the bridge of his nose and a massive one going down his back.
30 (appears 19)
son of Menoitios
titan god of rash anger
Kin: n/a
Friends: Vrykolakas Stavros, Jace Rowlings
Rivals: none
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: none
Akheron is rather opposite of his father, the titan god of rash anger. Akheron is rather calm, if not a bit adventurous and excitable. Still, he works very hard at keeping his temper under control. He was born in Greece where he met Vrykolakas. The two of them met Jace who moved there from England. The three became very close because of what they were, and they are often seen traveling together. He often takes on the fatherly role of the group, seeing as he is the oldest.
Akheron has platinum blonde hair and icy blue eyes with violet tinges to them. He has a large scar over the bridge of his nose and a massive one going down his back.
Blaise Jenkins
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/___2455445.jpg)
Blaise Jenkins
16
son of Phoebe
titan goddess of intellect and prophecy
Kin: Leroy Jenkins (father), Chester Jenkins (uncle)
Friends: none
Rivals: none
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: none
Blaise isn't just any normal demigod. He is the son of Phoebe; titan goddess of intellect and prophecy. He is very smart and observant of everything. He has a photographic memory and can pick up on skills instantly. He doesn't show off or talk much about his intellectual side, finding it strange and a bit bothersome. When he was only known as a mortal, he was diagnosed with LLI (Low Latent Inhibition) but when he discovered who his mother really was, it was obvious that LLI was not what he had. He never really bonded with people, not easily. His father was always putting him down and making him do things for him. Blaise was never abused, well, not physically. Verbal and emotional abuse ran rampant in his house, mostly from his father. He became very distant from the man after that. His father was also very sick, and eventually died in his sleep when Blaise was ten. He became a ward of the state and was sent to too many foster homes to count since he never really fit in with anyone. There was always something about a certain place that made him leave. Finally he got to a home where the people were nice, an elderly couple who were very charitable. They got along fine until he told them that the man was going to die in a horrible way. They thought he was threatening him and called the police. He was sent to juvenile hall, and two weeks later, the man was killed by a construction machine falling on him, crushing him underneath. It took him hours to die. Now sixteen, Blaise seeks his freedom from the Ward, using his abilities and powers to his advantage. No one will see it coming... or will they? Blaise is young with brown hair and strange purple eyes. He seems distant but observant as said before. He also tends to speak in riddles or with very poetic words. When cranky, he can be sarcastic and somewhat rude, throwing out snide remarks.
16
son of Phoebe
titan goddess of intellect and prophecy
Kin: Leroy Jenkins (father), Chester Jenkins (uncle)
Friends: none
Rivals: none
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: none
Blaise isn't just any normal demigod. He is the son of Phoebe; titan goddess of intellect and prophecy. He is very smart and observant of everything. He has a photographic memory and can pick up on skills instantly. He doesn't show off or talk much about his intellectual side, finding it strange and a bit bothersome. When he was only known as a mortal, he was diagnosed with LLI (Low Latent Inhibition) but when he discovered who his mother really was, it was obvious that LLI was not what he had. He never really bonded with people, not easily. His father was always putting him down and making him do things for him. Blaise was never abused, well, not physically. Verbal and emotional abuse ran rampant in his house, mostly from his father. He became very distant from the man after that. His father was also very sick, and eventually died in his sleep when Blaise was ten. He became a ward of the state and was sent to too many foster homes to count since he never really fit in with anyone. There was always something about a certain place that made him leave. Finally he got to a home where the people were nice, an elderly couple who were very charitable. They got along fine until he told them that the man was going to die in a horrible way. They thought he was threatening him and called the police. He was sent to juvenile hall, and two weeks later, the man was killed by a construction machine falling on him, crushing him underneath. It took him hours to die. Now sixteen, Blaise seeks his freedom from the Ward, using his abilities and powers to his advantage. No one will see it coming... or will they? Blaise is young with brown hair and strange purple eyes. He seems distant but observant as said before. He also tends to speak in riddles or with very poetic words. When cranky, he can be sarcastic and somewhat rude, throwing out snide remarks.
Daemon Croft
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/___3200411.jpg)
Daemon Croft
20
son of Erebus
titan god of darkness
Kin: Merrick Croft (brother)
Friends: none
Rivals: none
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: none
The dwellers in the shadows. The wraiths in the night. The dark fliers. Among these various, mysterious children, there is one young man. His name is Daemon Croft. He doesn't play the games of others, but plays many deadly games of his own. Daemon is 20; tall, about 6' 2". His hair is straight but unkempt, a dark brown color like coffee. His eyes are a dark ultramarine, vivid and almost disturbing in how intense they appear. His skin is light, ranging between fair and tan. He has a muscular build, like a swimmer; lean, but condensed and strong. He has incredible stamina and a surprising amount of resilience. If someone looked up "strong and silent type" on Google, Daemon's name would probably be the first search result. He has all the appearance and attitude of a hardcore, living-on-the-edge sort of man. He wears dark clothes, smokes cigarettes, sticks to the shadows, and pretty much tells everyone to mind their own business. But don't think he'll stick to his own. The girls want to kiss him and the guys want to kill him. He's always ticking off one person or another, but he doesn't seem to care. If he has any standards, they're very low. If he has any morals, he has made quite a few exceptions to them. From the aforementioned material, the silent part doesn't seem to fit him. But it does. Sure, he speaks his mind when it doesn't matter, but he doesn't open up about his feelings. He likes to keep that to himself. He also teases others and ruins the mushy-gushy, touchy-feely moments with sarcasm. He isn't the lovey-dovey type either, and any romance with him is probably pointless. Does he love people? Well, yes he does. He just has a different way of showing it. One of the rarer demigods, Daemon has a stranger life than most. After all, he was thought into existence. His father, the titan god Erebus, while watching the doings of mortal women on earth from the safety of his shadow domain, he saw a woman that appeared most intriguing to him. In time, Daemon was created from Erebus' meditative focus. It wasn't lust or love, or anything remotely emotional. Erebus never had thoughts such as those for mortal women. But Daemon was created nonetheless. As is the rule for any gods who are loyal and do not want to commit affairs, Erebus detached himself from Daemon immediately, and took him to the woman's house. Erebus revealed himself to the much frightened mortal and told her everything. She didn't seem pleased or disappointed, just generally concerned for her safety. Erebus told her never to speak of him to others and that the child was hers. So she took Daemon and raised him. About three years later, he gained a brother, Merrick. Same father, same mother. Most mortal woman would be quite put out that two babies were dumped on their doorsteps, but not Daemon's mother. She found it challenging but refreshing. They lived in the City, in a loft apartment that she had restored. Since their mother was busy working most of the time, Daemon looked out for his little brother constantly, though they both tended to get into mischief like any boys. Their mother was always loving and did what she could. It wasn't the prefect life, but they were happy.
20
son of Erebus
titan god of darkness
Kin: Merrick Croft (brother)
Friends: none
Rivals: none
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: none
The dwellers in the shadows. The wraiths in the night. The dark fliers. Among these various, mysterious children, there is one young man. His name is Daemon Croft. He doesn't play the games of others, but plays many deadly games of his own. Daemon is 20; tall, about 6' 2". His hair is straight but unkempt, a dark brown color like coffee. His eyes are a dark ultramarine, vivid and almost disturbing in how intense they appear. His skin is light, ranging between fair and tan. He has a muscular build, like a swimmer; lean, but condensed and strong. He has incredible stamina and a surprising amount of resilience. If someone looked up "strong and silent type" on Google, Daemon's name would probably be the first search result. He has all the appearance and attitude of a hardcore, living-on-the-edge sort of man. He wears dark clothes, smokes cigarettes, sticks to the shadows, and pretty much tells everyone to mind their own business. But don't think he'll stick to his own. The girls want to kiss him and the guys want to kill him. He's always ticking off one person or another, but he doesn't seem to care. If he has any standards, they're very low. If he has any morals, he has made quite a few exceptions to them. From the aforementioned material, the silent part doesn't seem to fit him. But it does. Sure, he speaks his mind when it doesn't matter, but he doesn't open up about his feelings. He likes to keep that to himself. He also teases others and ruins the mushy-gushy, touchy-feely moments with sarcasm. He isn't the lovey-dovey type either, and any romance with him is probably pointless. Does he love people? Well, yes he does. He just has a different way of showing it. One of the rarer demigods, Daemon has a stranger life than most. After all, he was thought into existence. His father, the titan god Erebus, while watching the doings of mortal women on earth from the safety of his shadow domain, he saw a woman that appeared most intriguing to him. In time, Daemon was created from Erebus' meditative focus. It wasn't lust or love, or anything remotely emotional. Erebus never had thoughts such as those for mortal women. But Daemon was created nonetheless. As is the rule for any gods who are loyal and do not want to commit affairs, Erebus detached himself from Daemon immediately, and took him to the woman's house. Erebus revealed himself to the much frightened mortal and told her everything. She didn't seem pleased or disappointed, just generally concerned for her safety. Erebus told her never to speak of him to others and that the child was hers. So she took Daemon and raised him. About three years later, he gained a brother, Merrick. Same father, same mother. Most mortal woman would be quite put out that two babies were dumped on their doorsteps, but not Daemon's mother. She found it challenging but refreshing. They lived in the City, in a loft apartment that she had restored. Since their mother was busy working most of the time, Daemon looked out for his little brother constantly, though they both tended to get into mischief like any boys. Their mother was always loving and did what she could. It wasn't the prefect life, but they were happy.
Dragur Vicious
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/___2749816.jpg)
Dragur Viscous
16
Son of Styx
the titan-goddess of hate and the River Styx
Kin: Alec and Bane (brothers)
Friends: none
Rivals: Alec Viscous
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: Apollo
A demi-titan: more powerful than any ordinary demigod. Being one of power can be so intriguing, so amazing, but not for Dragur. For Dragur it has been a terrible burden to bear. Born of hatred, born of Styx within her accursed river, he knew the meaning of suffering from an early age. When he was finally released from the Underworld at age ten, he was probably the most helpless and forlorn child on the earth. He had never seen anything except the dark abyss of Styx's corrosive waters. He had never known anything save the feel of liquid fire and acid consuming his very soul. Now he has been tossed into a world that cares as much for him as he cared for the pains of his birthworld: that is to say, not at all. Since he was born and lived in the river for ten years, he is immune and impervious to any physical attacks. His own hatred is directed fully at his mother though he buries it all inside himself. He looks down on demigods, and some gods, as completely inferior beings, and couldn't give a damn about humans. He's mostly a quiet, reserved loner, but very, outstandingly observant and intelligent. He notices minute details and the most obscure of things. Exceptionally bright, most talents come to him rather effortlessly. He's a bit reckless since he does see himself as a superior being, even going so far as to challenge certain gods to duels. He has a brother, Alec Viscous, whom he considers his eternal enemy. The reason for this is all covered up in clever conspiracy and lies. Dragur doesn't talk about himself at all really, and always directs attention away from himself. Since demi-titans are the rarest breed, it is very hard to discern what he is as the thought of such beings doesn't even pass through many peoples' minds. Dragur cares for very few people, so if he does care for someone, it is a huge and very serious commitment he is making and should not be taken lightly. He is rather ruthless, cruel, and inconsiderate. He prefers working others to his advantage and is an incredible liar. Dragur travels around a lot and has picked up on a lot of things. He can speak twelve languages: English, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Hebrew, Arabic, Turkish, Russian, Mandarin Chinese, Mongolian and Irish Gaelic. He can play the violin, duduk, and kaito drums. He can paint very well but doesn't care to, though his preferred mediums are water colors and inks. He has a knack for history, chemistry, and english. He has marvelous stamina, speed, and agility with a fiar amount of strength. Dragur has a thin body with light tanned, near flawless skin. Since he ages slower than mortals, he always appears young. He has lifeless, white eyes that are nearly pupil-less, an after affect of spending ten years in pitch black water. His eyes are ringed in black. His hair comes down to his shoulders. It is is soft as velvet and the color of deathly night. In certain lighting, red highlights shine amidst the black. He can control hatred. He can also summon black waters from the river Styx and consume things with it. He can also bind others to sacred oath by shedding his black blood. He may also teleport at will, but he will always wind up in the River Styx when he does.
16
Son of Styx
the titan-goddess of hate and the River Styx
Kin: Alec and Bane (brothers)
Friends: none
Rivals: Alec Viscous
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: Apollo
A demi-titan: more powerful than any ordinary demigod. Being one of power can be so intriguing, so amazing, but not for Dragur. For Dragur it has been a terrible burden to bear. Born of hatred, born of Styx within her accursed river, he knew the meaning of suffering from an early age. When he was finally released from the Underworld at age ten, he was probably the most helpless and forlorn child on the earth. He had never seen anything except the dark abyss of Styx's corrosive waters. He had never known anything save the feel of liquid fire and acid consuming his very soul. Now he has been tossed into a world that cares as much for him as he cared for the pains of his birthworld: that is to say, not at all. Since he was born and lived in the river for ten years, he is immune and impervious to any physical attacks. His own hatred is directed fully at his mother though he buries it all inside himself. He looks down on demigods, and some gods, as completely inferior beings, and couldn't give a damn about humans. He's mostly a quiet, reserved loner, but very, outstandingly observant and intelligent. He notices minute details and the most obscure of things. Exceptionally bright, most talents come to him rather effortlessly. He's a bit reckless since he does see himself as a superior being, even going so far as to challenge certain gods to duels. He has a brother, Alec Viscous, whom he considers his eternal enemy. The reason for this is all covered up in clever conspiracy and lies. Dragur doesn't talk about himself at all really, and always directs attention away from himself. Since demi-titans are the rarest breed, it is very hard to discern what he is as the thought of such beings doesn't even pass through many peoples' minds. Dragur cares for very few people, so if he does care for someone, it is a huge and very serious commitment he is making and should not be taken lightly. He is rather ruthless, cruel, and inconsiderate. He prefers working others to his advantage and is an incredible liar. Dragur travels around a lot and has picked up on a lot of things. He can speak twelve languages: English, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Hebrew, Arabic, Turkish, Russian, Mandarin Chinese, Mongolian and Irish Gaelic. He can play the violin, duduk, and kaito drums. He can paint very well but doesn't care to, though his preferred mediums are water colors and inks. He has a knack for history, chemistry, and english. He has marvelous stamina, speed, and agility with a fiar amount of strength. Dragur has a thin body with light tanned, near flawless skin. Since he ages slower than mortals, he always appears young. He has lifeless, white eyes that are nearly pupil-less, an after affect of spending ten years in pitch black water. His eyes are ringed in black. His hair comes down to his shoulders. It is is soft as velvet and the color of deathly night. In certain lighting, red highlights shine amidst the black. He can control hatred. He can also summon black waters from the river Styx and consume things with it. He can also bind others to sacred oath by shedding his black blood. He may also teleport at will, but he will always wind up in the River Styx when he does.
Emiliano Raneri
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/___6039036.jpg)
Emiliano Raneri
Appears 16, True age is somewhere near 30,000
a titan, son of Eros
primordial god of procreation, sexual desire, and the brotherhood of men
Kin: Cleo (mother)
Friends: none
Rivals: none
God-Friends: Eros (father), Eros, Cupid, Aphrodite, Gaia, Thesis, Physis, Hera
God-Rivals: none
Emiliano is a Titan son born to the primordial, self-created god Eros: god of procreation, sexual desire, and the brotherhood of men by one of the first mortal women, Cleo. When the other primordial gods learned of his birth, they became worried. They knew of the tendencies of men and their inborn wickedness, so they used their power to diminish Emiliano's abilities. Over the past eras, his powers have drastically decreased, now existing on the level of a demi-titan where he is expected to stay for the remainder of his life. He was born on the land that would one day become Italy. At the time, the world was formless and under the reign of Kronos. When he was seven, he was entered into battle training. In those days, the Golden Age of Greece, it was the time for heroes and power. As a Titan, Emiliano was feared, revered, worshipped even. As he grew and strengthened, he became more and more loved by the people, and he loved them just as fiercely. He served, guarded, and taught them. He emulated Eros greatly and sought to be the same, wise man his father was. Having been raised in such an era, it was only natural that his loyalty lay with Kronos. And when the time came, he did indeed fight in the Titanochamy. At Kronos' side. When the war ended and his powerful king sent to his knees, Emiliano surrendered to Zeus, begging the god to take him and let his warriors go. Zeus complied, but also found in his heart, compassion for the warrior. He had Emiliano imprisoned within Tartarus, true to Emiliano's request, but after a few thousand years, he had him released. Emiliano never thought evil of Zeus, and as he found his footing in the world once more, he returned to his role of guardian and councilor. He assisted many kings and taught many children. never in one place for too long, he was always disappearing and reappearing, using his power of disguise to keep his identity concealed. Thus he avoided recognition, but also remained out of any and all stories. A side effect. In the Trojan War, he chose Achilles as his favored hero. When the boy Patroclus, and eventually Achilles himself was struck down in battle, it was perhaps the first time Emiliano had ever truly grieved for anyone. He bore the two kin to the Elysian fields himself. He then proceeded to follow Aeneas to Italy and they built Rome together. Emiliano remained in Rome until its fall, influencing and taking part in many famous, historical events. After Rome fell, he ventured around the world. It was around the time of the Renaissance that he truly felt his powers diminish. It was the first time he felt fear. He returned to Olympus, among the gods his friends, and sought out the audience of the primordials, begging them not to take his life. They assured him they would not, but even still, he is far more prone to death than he ever had been. Around the late 1900s, his powers ceased fading, and since then, he has remained at the power level of a demi-titan. More powerful than any demigod but not as powerful as a god. He does have far more advantages than other demi-titans. He is immortal to age and disease, has a decreased aging process, impressive regeneration capabilities, bleeds ichor, has extremely heightened reflexes, higher influence and some control over lesser creatures, higher intelligence and comprehension, and more dominating skills in battle. Emiliano is something special it seems, being extremely old and the first of his kind, possibly the only one of his kind. He is on good terms with many of the gods. His knowledge and memories have made him very wise, even seeming to be a mystical guru at times with the things he says. He roams the world, acting as an ordinary demigod of sorts. Despite the seriousness of his life, Emiliano has always retained a light-hearted, playful personality. Emiliano seems strangely carefree and childlike for an ancient titan. He is gentle, tender, and rather delicate. Some might even say he’s a bit feminine, always speaking softly of beauty and love and other things. But there’s a strong, regal air to him that surpasses it. He’s light. He’s the air, the wind, the breezes. He’s free and sweet and soft. He's always happy, positive, with such a silver and gold outlook to all. But his sympathy, compassion, and his understanding reach deep beyond the surface of the heart. He comforts those who have nothing but harsh cruelty. He tames the tormented souls of those who know only savagery. He soothes the pain of those who slumber and wake in pain. He’s very romantic. His words, his gestures, his ways with women. Being playfellows of Cupid, Eros, Himerus, and Hedone, he knows very well the art of love and seduction. Centuries of practice and lovers have made him quite knowledgeable in the art. He can be either something of a playboy or true hearted. It can be a bit hard to tell the difference. He’s very loyal and self-sacrificial. Though in recent years he has become a bit more careful and cautious, he will still do whatever it takes to save the innocent and uphold justice. He is always striving for unity and peace. He absolutely despises fighting these days though he still has an unspoken prowess on the battlefield. Naturally. He hates to fight not simply because he finds the act immoral, but it’s also become an irrational fear of his. He is most definitely paranoid of death. It never was a problem for him when he was in his prime. Gods and titans never fear death for death has no power over them. But now he can feel the cloying grip and the metallic taste of mortality. He can feel himself rotting. Exaggeration? Not truly. All mortals are rotting away slowly unto death. Mortals always feel it, so they are unaware that they even do. But Emiliano feels it because he has never felt it before. He feels himself aging, slowly, but aging still. He feels every fiber of his being withering and dying. At times, when he is most aware of it, it sickens him. He can become rather delusional in his paranoia which also makes him dangerous yet vulnerable. He might have all the appearance of being open and carefree, but his worries, his fears, his nightmares are hidden inside. Only Demius could wrench them out. Emiliano enjoys many pleasures of the human world. To say the least, his procreation and influence from other gods has only enhanced the loving nature of him. At times he seems more a son of the minor god Eros than the primordial deity of the same name. He flirts, he serenades, he loves. He plays and impresses but he never manipulates, no. Even in the days of tyranny and war he was never dark. It is simply not his nature to do anything so evil as manipulate or toy with others. He has a severe loyalty streak to the extreme of suicide and is terribly honest. It’s almost a problem, since he also tends to state what’s exactly on his mind. He thinks perhaps his brain is deteriorating, among other silly mortality notions, but he finds his brutal honesty and ridiculously outspoken side to be decrementing to himself and his noble self-pride, so naturally it must be because of this mortality business. Emiliano is also very wealthy. Extravagantly. He enjoys every comfort and leisure that the earth’s finest have to offer. He has always spent his life treated as royalty, for he was very royal, and even now he sees no reason to change that. When not relaxing on his magnificent cruise ship or in one of his ridiculously breathtaking villas, he’s in the fanciest hotels eating the most exquisite of foods while bedding the most exotic of women. There is a difference to his mere trysts and mortal love. He would never betray a women he loves, but in between his loves he seeks the company of women as any man or god naturally would. He seems to acquire everything he wants, nothing seems unattainable to him. It is speculated that he acquired this extravagance from Hades, and that is very likely. He is on Hades’ good side after all, as he is with nearly all the gods. He doesn’t seem to get along all that keenly with Ares, since he did woo Aphrodite for a few decades, but the matter is mostly forgotten and not something to go to war over. In appearance, Emiliano is often portrayed young, between the ages of sixteen and twenty. His height lands more on the line of an average eighteen year old. His skin is rather light, a dull coppery color, hinting on brown. Sleek and supple, without traces of blemish or any scars. Since he is very particular about beauty, he takes good care of every detail of himself, including the skin. He uses rare products, most of them natural or ancient. Scented oils, gentle soaps, purified water: only the finest and most perfect of things may refine his body. He remains lean but strong, keeping to a regulated and efficient program of rigor that keeps him in perfect physical shape. It shows in the lusciously proportioned, toned, and defined musculature that wraps itself about his sturdy yet gentle structure. Like something carved by masons, he is as serpentine and fluid as smoothed marble, but not nearly so cold and unrelenting. He is catlike; tensing and releasing, gliding and pausing, feeling and dancing through the world with steps light as feathers. His hair is black. Dark as ravens’ wings in the night. Spiky at the edges, with a tousled look in the curls and long, flowing tresses. He always preferred his hair long. As soft to the touch as cashmere and it flows as gently over the hands as running water. His eyes are pools of molten ruby starlight. Expressive, alight, vibrant: filled with emotion and they speak volumes of the depthless ecstasy found in dreams. He can capture the world and hold it prisoner with those unfathomable optics. They burn as the stars and sun in the heavens, melting the coldest of hearts, even the frozen rock that was Khione’s. Yes, even hers. They loved each other for many years before parting ways; a passionate, unspoken romance that ended dramatically. When they were together, he froze in her arms and she burned in his eyes. It was as violent as fire meeting ice, and it ended much the same. All the eyes. It was all from his eyes. He has soft facial features, somewhat feminine in appearance. Definitely not boyish in any respect, but feminine. A gently sloping nose perfectly centered, a little upturned. He has full, baby soft lips that curve upwards into a most tantalizing smile. A teasing, playful, inviting grin that brightens up an entire room. He has a slightly angular jaw that helps define his otherwise soft proportions, and a strong jaw. Strong but not prominent or heavyset, but strong. Strong enough to make him appear as noble as he is without drawing to much attention. His face amplifies the delicate figure he strikes, and he only amplifies that with his carriage and ability. He dances, he sings, he plays instruments, he dresses fashionably: he does it all. The definitive line between man and woman seems oddly blended with him as he is both feminine of touch and taste yet imposing and severe when need be. He has all the compassion and sense of a mother, yet the proud and harsh decisiveness of a father. He is both mother and father bear, both lover and warrior. Some may find it odd, but he sees no reason to. It is his nature and shall remain to be so. This is Emiliano. The lover, the fighter, the councilor, the conqueror, the lord, the Titan. Someday his time will run out. The thread of his fate shall be cut. And until then, he shall live. He shall live and teach and give all he has to those he shall leave behind. And perhaps, in his final days, he shall find someone who will look to him and know of the Titan lord he once was. Perhaps someone, somewhere, will find it in their hearts to remember him and never forget. Or maybe he too shall fade into eternity, lost, forevermore.
Appears 16, True age is somewhere near 30,000
a titan, son of Eros
primordial god of procreation, sexual desire, and the brotherhood of men
Kin: Cleo (mother)
Friends: none
Rivals: none
God-Friends: Eros (father), Eros, Cupid, Aphrodite, Gaia, Thesis, Physis, Hera
God-Rivals: none
Emiliano is a Titan son born to the primordial, self-created god Eros: god of procreation, sexual desire, and the brotherhood of men by one of the first mortal women, Cleo. When the other primordial gods learned of his birth, they became worried. They knew of the tendencies of men and their inborn wickedness, so they used their power to diminish Emiliano's abilities. Over the past eras, his powers have drastically decreased, now existing on the level of a demi-titan where he is expected to stay for the remainder of his life. He was born on the land that would one day become Italy. At the time, the world was formless and under the reign of Kronos. When he was seven, he was entered into battle training. In those days, the Golden Age of Greece, it was the time for heroes and power. As a Titan, Emiliano was feared, revered, worshipped even. As he grew and strengthened, he became more and more loved by the people, and he loved them just as fiercely. He served, guarded, and taught them. He emulated Eros greatly and sought to be the same, wise man his father was. Having been raised in such an era, it was only natural that his loyalty lay with Kronos. And when the time came, he did indeed fight in the Titanochamy. At Kronos' side. When the war ended and his powerful king sent to his knees, Emiliano surrendered to Zeus, begging the god to take him and let his warriors go. Zeus complied, but also found in his heart, compassion for the warrior. He had Emiliano imprisoned within Tartarus, true to Emiliano's request, but after a few thousand years, he had him released. Emiliano never thought evil of Zeus, and as he found his footing in the world once more, he returned to his role of guardian and councilor. He assisted many kings and taught many children. never in one place for too long, he was always disappearing and reappearing, using his power of disguise to keep his identity concealed. Thus he avoided recognition, but also remained out of any and all stories. A side effect. In the Trojan War, he chose Achilles as his favored hero. When the boy Patroclus, and eventually Achilles himself was struck down in battle, it was perhaps the first time Emiliano had ever truly grieved for anyone. He bore the two kin to the Elysian fields himself. He then proceeded to follow Aeneas to Italy and they built Rome together. Emiliano remained in Rome until its fall, influencing and taking part in many famous, historical events. After Rome fell, he ventured around the world. It was around the time of the Renaissance that he truly felt his powers diminish. It was the first time he felt fear. He returned to Olympus, among the gods his friends, and sought out the audience of the primordials, begging them not to take his life. They assured him they would not, but even still, he is far more prone to death than he ever had been. Around the late 1900s, his powers ceased fading, and since then, he has remained at the power level of a demi-titan. More powerful than any demigod but not as powerful as a god. He does have far more advantages than other demi-titans. He is immortal to age and disease, has a decreased aging process, impressive regeneration capabilities, bleeds ichor, has extremely heightened reflexes, higher influence and some control over lesser creatures, higher intelligence and comprehension, and more dominating skills in battle. Emiliano is something special it seems, being extremely old and the first of his kind, possibly the only one of his kind. He is on good terms with many of the gods. His knowledge and memories have made him very wise, even seeming to be a mystical guru at times with the things he says. He roams the world, acting as an ordinary demigod of sorts. Despite the seriousness of his life, Emiliano has always retained a light-hearted, playful personality. Emiliano seems strangely carefree and childlike for an ancient titan. He is gentle, tender, and rather delicate. Some might even say he’s a bit feminine, always speaking softly of beauty and love and other things. But there’s a strong, regal air to him that surpasses it. He’s light. He’s the air, the wind, the breezes. He’s free and sweet and soft. He's always happy, positive, with such a silver and gold outlook to all. But his sympathy, compassion, and his understanding reach deep beyond the surface of the heart. He comforts those who have nothing but harsh cruelty. He tames the tormented souls of those who know only savagery. He soothes the pain of those who slumber and wake in pain. He’s very romantic. His words, his gestures, his ways with women. Being playfellows of Cupid, Eros, Himerus, and Hedone, he knows very well the art of love and seduction. Centuries of practice and lovers have made him quite knowledgeable in the art. He can be either something of a playboy or true hearted. It can be a bit hard to tell the difference. He’s very loyal and self-sacrificial. Though in recent years he has become a bit more careful and cautious, he will still do whatever it takes to save the innocent and uphold justice. He is always striving for unity and peace. He absolutely despises fighting these days though he still has an unspoken prowess on the battlefield. Naturally. He hates to fight not simply because he finds the act immoral, but it’s also become an irrational fear of his. He is most definitely paranoid of death. It never was a problem for him when he was in his prime. Gods and titans never fear death for death has no power over them. But now he can feel the cloying grip and the metallic taste of mortality. He can feel himself rotting. Exaggeration? Not truly. All mortals are rotting away slowly unto death. Mortals always feel it, so they are unaware that they even do. But Emiliano feels it because he has never felt it before. He feels himself aging, slowly, but aging still. He feels every fiber of his being withering and dying. At times, when he is most aware of it, it sickens him. He can become rather delusional in his paranoia which also makes him dangerous yet vulnerable. He might have all the appearance of being open and carefree, but his worries, his fears, his nightmares are hidden inside. Only Demius could wrench them out. Emiliano enjoys many pleasures of the human world. To say the least, his procreation and influence from other gods has only enhanced the loving nature of him. At times he seems more a son of the minor god Eros than the primordial deity of the same name. He flirts, he serenades, he loves. He plays and impresses but he never manipulates, no. Even in the days of tyranny and war he was never dark. It is simply not his nature to do anything so evil as manipulate or toy with others. He has a severe loyalty streak to the extreme of suicide and is terribly honest. It’s almost a problem, since he also tends to state what’s exactly on his mind. He thinks perhaps his brain is deteriorating, among other silly mortality notions, but he finds his brutal honesty and ridiculously outspoken side to be decrementing to himself and his noble self-pride, so naturally it must be because of this mortality business. Emiliano is also very wealthy. Extravagantly. He enjoys every comfort and leisure that the earth’s finest have to offer. He has always spent his life treated as royalty, for he was very royal, and even now he sees no reason to change that. When not relaxing on his magnificent cruise ship or in one of his ridiculously breathtaking villas, he’s in the fanciest hotels eating the most exquisite of foods while bedding the most exotic of women. There is a difference to his mere trysts and mortal love. He would never betray a women he loves, but in between his loves he seeks the company of women as any man or god naturally would. He seems to acquire everything he wants, nothing seems unattainable to him. It is speculated that he acquired this extravagance from Hades, and that is very likely. He is on Hades’ good side after all, as he is with nearly all the gods. He doesn’t seem to get along all that keenly with Ares, since he did woo Aphrodite for a few decades, but the matter is mostly forgotten and not something to go to war over. In appearance, Emiliano is often portrayed young, between the ages of sixteen and twenty. His height lands more on the line of an average eighteen year old. His skin is rather light, a dull coppery color, hinting on brown. Sleek and supple, without traces of blemish or any scars. Since he is very particular about beauty, he takes good care of every detail of himself, including the skin. He uses rare products, most of them natural or ancient. Scented oils, gentle soaps, purified water: only the finest and most perfect of things may refine his body. He remains lean but strong, keeping to a regulated and efficient program of rigor that keeps him in perfect physical shape. It shows in the lusciously proportioned, toned, and defined musculature that wraps itself about his sturdy yet gentle structure. Like something carved by masons, he is as serpentine and fluid as smoothed marble, but not nearly so cold and unrelenting. He is catlike; tensing and releasing, gliding and pausing, feeling and dancing through the world with steps light as feathers. His hair is black. Dark as ravens’ wings in the night. Spiky at the edges, with a tousled look in the curls and long, flowing tresses. He always preferred his hair long. As soft to the touch as cashmere and it flows as gently over the hands as running water. His eyes are pools of molten ruby starlight. Expressive, alight, vibrant: filled with emotion and they speak volumes of the depthless ecstasy found in dreams. He can capture the world and hold it prisoner with those unfathomable optics. They burn as the stars and sun in the heavens, melting the coldest of hearts, even the frozen rock that was Khione’s. Yes, even hers. They loved each other for many years before parting ways; a passionate, unspoken romance that ended dramatically. When they were together, he froze in her arms and she burned in his eyes. It was as violent as fire meeting ice, and it ended much the same. All the eyes. It was all from his eyes. He has soft facial features, somewhat feminine in appearance. Definitely not boyish in any respect, but feminine. A gently sloping nose perfectly centered, a little upturned. He has full, baby soft lips that curve upwards into a most tantalizing smile. A teasing, playful, inviting grin that brightens up an entire room. He has a slightly angular jaw that helps define his otherwise soft proportions, and a strong jaw. Strong but not prominent or heavyset, but strong. Strong enough to make him appear as noble as he is without drawing to much attention. His face amplifies the delicate figure he strikes, and he only amplifies that with his carriage and ability. He dances, he sings, he plays instruments, he dresses fashionably: he does it all. The definitive line between man and woman seems oddly blended with him as he is both feminine of touch and taste yet imposing and severe when need be. He has all the compassion and sense of a mother, yet the proud and harsh decisiveness of a father. He is both mother and father bear, both lover and warrior. Some may find it odd, but he sees no reason to. It is his nature and shall remain to be so. This is Emiliano. The lover, the fighter, the councilor, the conqueror, the lord, the Titan. Someday his time will run out. The thread of his fate shall be cut. And until then, he shall live. He shall live and teach and give all he has to those he shall leave behind. And perhaps, in his final days, he shall find someone who will look to him and know of the Titan lord he once was. Perhaps someone, somewhere, will find it in their hearts to remember him and never forget. Or maybe he too shall fade into eternity, lost, forevermore.
Indigo Summers
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/___9469280.jpg)
Indigo Summers
8
son of Erebus
titan god of darkness
Kin: Winter Summers (brother)
Friends: none
Rivals: none
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: none
Indigo is timid. He floats in the background because he doesn't want you to know he's there. He fades from view only to reappear elsewhere. If anything, he got a hold of his abilities for the simple sake of wanting to be left alone. Maybe permanently. He is only eight, so caring for himself is very difficult. But even so, he hates it when others pity him and try to baby him. He'd rather they taught him how to be stronger. The only one he will let watch over him and guard him fully is his older brother, Winter. But after Winter was taken and forced to do terrible things, the two brothers have been rather separate, as if a massive wedge was driven between them. Indigo won't really talk about his brother with others, nor will he talk about himself. He was taught a long time ago that self pity would only cause him harm. So he focuses on the positives and ignores the rest so as not to bog himself down. It could either be admirable or foolish, it depends on how one looks at it.
8
son of Erebus
titan god of darkness
Kin: Winter Summers (brother)
Friends: none
Rivals: none
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: none
Indigo is timid. He floats in the background because he doesn't want you to know he's there. He fades from view only to reappear elsewhere. If anything, he got a hold of his abilities for the simple sake of wanting to be left alone. Maybe permanently. He is only eight, so caring for himself is very difficult. But even so, he hates it when others pity him and try to baby him. He'd rather they taught him how to be stronger. The only one he will let watch over him and guard him fully is his older brother, Winter. But after Winter was taken and forced to do terrible things, the two brothers have been rather separate, as if a massive wedge was driven between them. Indigo won't really talk about his brother with others, nor will he talk about himself. He was taught a long time ago that self pity would only cause him harm. So he focuses on the positives and ignores the rest so as not to bog himself down. It could either be admirable or foolish, it depends on how one looks at it.
Merrick Croft
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/___2101003.jpg)
Merrick Croft
17
son of Erebus
titan god of darkness
Kin: Daemon Croft (brother)
Friends: none
Rivals: none
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: none
Winter Summers
![Picture](/uploads/1/4/5/9/14590338/___5987253.jpg)
Winter Summers
16
son of Erebus
titan god of darkness
Kin: Indigo Summers (brother)
Friends: none
Rivals: none
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: none
16
son of Erebus
titan god of darkness
Kin: Indigo Summers (brother)
Friends: none
Rivals: none
God-Friends: none
God-Rivals: none