User:Bird of Winter

Name: Azalea Winter

Gender: Female

God Parent: Ares

Mortal Parent: Elizabeth Winter

Appearance:  I have straight, bouncy, navy blue hair (I dyed it) with a side fringe. I generally pull it back in either a high ponytail or loose bun. I have deep brown eyes and tan skin from working on our farm all day. I'm about 5”8 and quite strong from martial arts and handling our farm animals. I have almond shaped eyes that slant just the slightest bit upward and are often closed in anger management exercises. I'm normally a t-shirt, jeans and boots kind of girl, unless, of course, I'm in my Ninja robes I ordered off the Internet. 

Personality: I'm generally calm, and clear headed. Due to constant anger management lessons since I was six, I am not annoyed easily, but I hold massive grudges, and if my anger builds up, I go into full-on Ares mode, where I see evreything and everyone as a target. I'm also quite perky and will generally approach everyone unless they death glare me or something. I'm straight.

History: 15 years ago, in a downtown New York bar, a fight broke out. It was between a tall, lanky, blond male and a shorter, dark-skinned female. The man lunged at the woman, but she ducked beneath his arm and flipped him onto his back. One foot on the man’s chest in victory, she skulled a shot and asked, in her Australian accent, if there was anyone else who would take her on. Three men stood up in turn, one short, one fat, and one bald. Each of them she defeated with ease, landing a few good punches in between. 

As she stood up to leave, a tall, brawn looking man wearing dark shades who had been sitting in the corner of the bar all night wrapped an arm around her waist and flipped her onto his shoulder. The woman, completely taken by surprise, could only punch at the man’s back as he walked her out of the bar and placed her on his motorcycle.

“Are you going to run away from me?” the man asked in a deep voice.

“No, I’m intrigued. Just take your glasses off”

“Maybe later”

“So where are you taking me?”

The man got out a leather jacket from a compartment on the back of the motorcycle and slid on to the front of the seat in silence. The woman wrapped her arms around his waist and read the stitching on the back of his jacket.

“God of War? Is that your bikie gang or something?”

“Oh that. You’ll find that out later babe.”

“Don’t EVER call me babe.”



They sped through the streets of New York until the man pulled into dark car park underneath an upper class apartment building. He lifted the woman off the bike and carried her into the elevator.

“You can put me down now.”

The man just stared at the woman, his dark shades not revealing his feelings. When they reached the top of the apartment, the elevator stopped and the man carried the woman through an ornately carved marble archway and into the buildings penthouse.



<p class="MsoNormal">The woman was in awe. She had never seen a place so lavishly decorated in her life. The decoration was mainly in hues of red and black, with a sort of Grecian styling.

<p class="MsoNormal">“So”, the man started, “Did you still want to see me without the glasses?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Sure”

<p class="MsoNormal">The man pulled the glasses away from his face and as he did so a small gasp of fear escaped the woman. His eyes were flames. The man explained that he was the Greek god of war, Ares, and that he wanted to have strong children that would represent him well in a place called Camp Half-Blood. When the woman asked why he chose her, he said she was the strongest woman he knew.

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<p class="MsoNormal">One month after that encounter, the now pregnant woman moved back to her home in Australia. There she rebuilt her mother’s farm and began handling cows, goats, sheep and chickens. Just after the renovation was completed, the woman gave birth to a healthy baby girl, whom she named Azalea, after her mother’s (Azalea’s grandmother’s) favourite flower. The woman trained Azalea from a young age on how to handle the farm animals and discipline them. She also enrolled Azalea in martial arts and, when the farm prospered, donated a grant to the martial arts school so they could buy mock weapons for the students to train with.

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<p class="MsoNormal">This woman, Elizabeth Winter, was trying her hardest to prepare Azalea for life as a daughter of Ares.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Azalea started school and soon became frustrated and angry when she couldn’t understand what the teacher was writing on the board or what she had to read in her books. Elizabeth took her to a doctors and Azalea was diagnosed with dyslexia and ADHD. Elizabeth started taking Azalea to a learning impediments tutor. But still, everyday after school, Azalea would come home in fits of rage because she couldn’t understand anything. Fed up with the complaining, and having not seen Ares for seven years, Elizabeth gave in and began taking her child to anger management classes.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Azalea became calmer over the years, and she was angry less and less frequently. When she asked her mother if she would pay for lessons in a specialized martial arts centre that trained students to be as ninjas, and her mother refused, Azalea’s pent up anger and frustration exploded inside. Her eyes transformed from dark brown to burning red, and in her rage, she smashed every plate, crushed every pan, and twisted every utensil in the kitchen. When she calmed down, Azalea gasped at the carnage she had made and burst into tears. Elizabeth was still staring, mouth agape at the kitchen when she reached the conclusion that, if her daughter began raging one more time, she would take her on a trip to America, and drop off Azalea at the place Ares had mentioned that first night, Camp Half-Blood. In preparation for this day, she went upstairs and packed a bag with minimal clothes and a package Ares had left for Azalea, to be opened, “When she was ready”.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Azalea started the training to become a ninja, and was found to be a fast learner. At the age of 13, she had saved up enough money to buy herself a Ninja Kama, the weapon she was most skilled in using, and had been training with for the past five years. At fourteen she saved enough to have ninja robes bespoke tailored for her and sent to her without her mother knowing.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Elizabeth grew softer with age, and generally let her daughter get what she wanted. But when Azalea failed all her school classes and was expelled, Elizabeth decided it was time to talk to her daughter. An opportunity arose when mother and daughter were out herding the sheep on their horses. As Elizabeth began talking to her daughter, it was apparent that Azalea wasn’t taking it well. Just as Elizabeth finished talking, Azalea snapped. Flames danced in her red-hot eyes and she charged her horse into the flock of cattle. One bull stood still in the middle of the chaos, and Azalea charged for it. Elizabeth gasped as she noticed something that had previously slipped her attention. The bull Azalea was charging at had glowing red lines running down its stomach and unusually long black horns. A demon bull.

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<p class="MsoNormal">Meanwhile, Azalea was handling her horse with great fury and it through her off before she reached the bull. Her martial arts training reminded her to flip in midair so she would land on her feet, and so she did. She landed, feet first, with a thud as dust gathered around her from impact. The bull bayed its head towards Azalea then charged. Azalea charged as well. Elizabeth ran her horse in between the two of them and the bull’s horns pierced the horse’s side and killed it. Somehow Elizabeth had managed to jump off the horse in time to not be impaled.

<p class="MsoNormal">The bull shook the dead horse off its horns and stared again towards Azalea. This time she was ready. She had unsheathed the small dagger she carried around when she was on the farm and slid under the bull as charged at her. With a cry of war, she dragged the dagger along the underside of the bull and it turned to dust.

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<p class="MsoNormal">As the dust floated down onto her, Azalea’s eyes changed back to brown and her war-like tendencies disappeared. Her mother was so relieved in the change that she almost forgot about the promise she had made to herself. She knelt down next to her daughter and whispered,

<p class="MsoNormal">“Azalea, we’re going to America.”

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<p class="MsoNormal">And that’s the story of my life. What happened when we got to America you ask? Well, we arrived at the airport, my mum sprayed me with horrid smelling body spray and we drove to some forest where my mum dropped me off with my suitcase and a package she told me to open when I got in safely. I didn’t know what she meant at the time. As I wondered through the forest, I reached a marble arch with ancient Greek lettering on top. “Camp Half-Blood”, it read. Don’t ask me how I could read it, but it just happened. Beyond the arch I could see the roof of a huge red farmhouse. I stepped through the arch, put down my suitcase, and carefully opened the package. Inside, there was a red velvet box and a letter written on a scroll. The letter read;

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<p class="MsoNormal">''“Daughter, ''

<p class="MsoNormal">''Hopefully your mother told you about me. I’m you’re father, the Greek God of War, Ares. Hopefully you’ve also developed a sound set of fighting skills and have managed to utilize your anger as a weapon. Your mother decided to move to Australia to protect you, as the bulk of monsters are currently resided in America and are busy enough here. They can’t be bothered with one little demigod on another continent. I guess the point of this letter was to identify myself, ‘cuz there are laws preventing me from seeing you. There’s a gift from me in the box. It’s sharp. Be strong kid. ''

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<p class="MsoNormal">''Dad” ''

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<p class="MsoNormal">I smiled a little, and opened the box. Inside was a silver armband with a small double-edged dagger pointed length-ways. The dagger jutted out a bit, and as I touched it, it turned into life size copy. Except now it wasn’t silver, it was bronze. I waved the dagger around a bit, testing it out, until someone found me, brandishing a sharp object near the entrance to what seemed to be a safe place. I waved the dagger near the armband, and it attached itself and shrunk back to its original size. The person led me towards the farmhouse, and I, with suitcase and package in hand, followed them to my new life.

Weapons: Enchanted double-sided dagger (my armband) and my ninja kama (it's like a scythe with a chain).