Claiming:Camp/Malcolm Bowman

Name: Malcolm Bowman

Gender: Male

Age: 17

God Parent: Deimos Nike Ares

Mortal Parent: Jeff Bowman

Personality: He doesn't believe in taking life too seriously but when he needs too he can be serious.

History: Malcolm's father was an alcoholic, and,while drunk(which was most of the time)he would punish Malcolm for doing almost anything. At the age of seven Malcolm ran away. He didn't spend long on the street, after a little he entered a warehouse but the inside of it was different to what he expected: Inside the warehouse was divided by walls. Sitting in the room were men, thugs by their look. They looked up as he entered “Oi! Look what we got here” the man sneered “we gonna have a little fun boys”. The men had gotten up and advanced on him, clubs, chains and other such things at the ready. Before they reached him a rough voice had barked “STOP! Anyone lays so much as a finger on the boy ends up like Jimmy!” a man had said, confused “Whose Jimmy?” A new man had entered, his brown hair a mess and one eye missing, he'd said with a grin “Exactly.”

The man had looked down at Malcolm “Th-thank you” Malcolm had stammered “Don't thank me, you're going to return the favorer.” The man had taken him to a small room “We'll start training tomorrow.”

The next day he had begun training as a pickpocket and he continued to train for the next four years, then at the age of eleven he'd started working for the gang, and he did so for another six years. He was never found by the monsters because the gang moved often and the occasional monster had been gotten rid of by luck.

Then it had all ended, he was walking though the street picking the pockets of the other pedestrians when he'd tried to pick the pocket of a large man, dressed in a trench coat. The man had grabbed him by the arm and yell “Why you try steal from me?” he had lifted him into the air and started swinging him around. Someone else had spoken then, though Malcolm didn't catch the words. A conversation had stared while the man still held Malcolm he wasn't swinging him anymore, but he was too disoriented to listen to the conversation. The conversation ended with Malcolm being swung into the other speaker and them both rolling down a hill. The man had explained how Malcolm was a demi-god, how the man who had swung him had been a cyclops, about the camp. At first Malcolm thought this guy was a loon, but then he saw how, unbelievably it made some sense. After Malcolm agreed to come with, the satyr had given him a sword

The trip to camp had been short, mainly because the caught the gray sisters taxi.

Weapons: Longsword

 A wise man speaks because he has something to say, a fool speaks because he has to say something.. 07:14, April 11, 2012 (UTC)