Claiming:Camp/Susana Caro

Name: Susana Caro

Godly Parent: Melinoe

Species: Demigod (Half human, Half god)

Current Age: 14 and change.

Mortal Family: Personality: Quiet, sweet, but with a determined edge.
 * Rafael Caro ( Father, Deceased)
 * Rosa Caro (Step Mother)
 * Juan Caro (Half Brother)
 * Lupe Caro (Half sister)
 * Jennifer Caro (Half sister)
 * Mario Caro (Half Brother)

Equipment: Stygian Iron Scythe (Can be worn as a ring when not in use.) Violin.

History:

The story of the Caros’ is the the story of quite a few families. The patriarch, Rafael Caro, was the third son of a poor family who lived near Tampico Mexico, dreaming of a better life. He, through a long and difficult process, immigrated to San Antonio. Through hard work, perseverance, and just a little luck, he made a home for himself; He got a series of menial jobs to push himself through college, received his degree, and began to make a living through tile, grout and bathroom fixtures. He met his wife, Rosa, and together they had 5 children, two boys, three beautiful daughters. But every family has a black sheep, and for the Caros, that black sheep was their fourth child, Susana.

Rafael loved Susana very much, like he did all his children, Rosa, however, never really cared for her in the same way she did her siblings. Her siblings took their mother’s lead and Susana grew up bullied by her older three siblings. By all accounts Susana was a quiet girl, very shy, but sweet and harmless, but everyone always commented that there was something not quite right about her. She was too quiet, too sweet, as if she were trying to hide something. Susana could say with all honest that she had no idea what they were talking about. Not at first anyway. It wasn’t until her favorite holiday rolled around, when she was eight years old, that she got her first inclination of how weird she really was. It was on that day that she met her first ghost.

The Day of the Dead had always been a big deal for her family. Her mother always hated the holiday, for as long as Susana could remember she locked herself in her room on the night of the celebrations, but that only made things better for the young girl. That was the one day out of the year she felt normal, her family laughed, and sang, she even learned how to play the violin just so she could play it on that one day a year, and everyone loved it! During her eight Day of the Dead, however, Susana caught sight of something in the midst of their celebrations. While she played, she could see more figures around her and her family, indistinct, barely visible, clapping along with the melody, swaying, dancing and swirling around them. Susana hesitated in the middle of the song, but quickly found her rhythm again, having the good sense not to react further. When the song ended she made an excuse to leave, hopping out to the patio to try to get some fresh air.

“You play very well mija.” A voice whispered next to her. Susana stiffened, shooting a glance to one side. Standing there was a man she had only ever seen in black and white pictures. A man with a bushy black mustache, work boots, blue jeans, a stained tank top and a wide brimmed hat… “...U-uncle...Roberto?” she squeaks, all too aware that she was looking straight through her uncle’s head while she spoke to him. The shade grinned a wide grin. “Of course, mija! Who else would it be? Do you know anyone else with such devilish good looks as your poor Uncle Roberto?” Susana gulped a few times. “But...but didn’t you...you know…?”

“Die?” Her uncle finished for her “Yup” He took off his hat and placed it against his chest, staring off into space. “Struck down in my prime by one angry Ford.” Susana took a few minutes to process that “But...But i’m talking to you.” He grins “Sure are!” She stared at him, he stared right back...finally when the silence stretched on for so long she couldn’t stand it, she asked the question. “How?” His smile faded slightly. “Ah, mija, I’m afraid I can’t answer that. Not right now...just you wait, one day I’ll tell you. Just not today. Now come on, our living familia will be wondering where you went. How about another song, eh?”

That was Susana’s first experience with the dead, but it was far from her last. The dead liked her, every day from that point onward her Uncle Roberto would walk her home from school, and every night she had another spirit waiting for her at home just to check on her. The spirits talked, helped her with her homework, taught her new things. One day, however, the biggest upset of her life arrived in the most under dramatic way possible. The guidance counselor popped into her english class, and hurriedly whispered in her teacher’s ear. The 14 year old was quietly escorted out of class and to the principal’s office where her mother was waiting...stone faced, eyes filled with tears, her youngest brother’s hand clutched tight to her own, and her older siblings all gathered around her. It was then that her mother told them all that their father had had an accident on the job. While refurbishing the bathroom in an old house, the water heater had malfunctioned. It had blasted a hole through the house, shooting up through the ground and top floor like a ballistic missile. Their father hadn’t made it out.

Susana was in shock, as were the rest of the children. The funeral took place two days later and her mother all but accused Susana of murder. Grief, bitterness and venom spilled out of Rosa during that moment of weakness, and she told Susana everything...along with the entire rest of the service. Susana, as it turned out, wasn’t her daughter at all. Her father had had an affair 14 years ago, on the Day of the Dead. Nine months later, Susana had arrived on their doorstep with a note and that woman (Rosa had used far more colorful words to describe Susana’s birth mother) just expected to dump her problem off on them as if they didn’t have any more mouths to feed!

Distraught, confused, and lacking the only parental figure in her life that really mattered, Susana ran. She took just enough time to change her clothes and gather up some supplies, then she ran, and left town. She ran and ran until she couldn’t run anymore, curling up in an old grave yard just outside San Antonio. When night fell, her Uncle once again appeared. “I-i want to see my dad! Bring my dad here! I want to see him!” She cried, grasping at the air where her Uncle’s spirit stood. “I...can’t do that mija, he has to find his way back on his own.” she sobbed “Then bring my mother here! My real mother! Where is she!” Her uncle grimaced. “Susana...I can’t do that either. Your mother is...is very important, I can’t just drag her here...but I think it’s time I told you what your father couldn’t...your mother’s name is Melinoe, and...she’s a goddess.” Most demigods have a hard time believing statements like that, but given she had spent the last year talking to ghosts, and after all she had been through that day, Susana found herself much more receptive.

Her uncle told her told her everything that he knew about her mother, and he told her that the dead like to share secrets, and there was a place far to the north where demigods like her could go to be safe, and grow. Lacking any other prospects, Susana began to walk. She slept during the early morning, she played her violin for the spare change of strangers when every they were in a town, spending any money she made on bus tickets and maybe a meal or two. When she couldn’t afford the bus, she’d walk. Every night, she and her uncle would find refuge anywhere they could and discuss their next move. As they were passing through West Virginia, Uncle Roberto insisted on a detour through a tiny little town called Thurmond. When she asked about it, all he said was “It just...feels right.” She couldn’t really tell what he meant until they actually got in the town of Thurmond. There was next to no one living there...but that didn’t mean there weren’t people. The town was home to hundreds of spirits, and she soon found out exactly why. Her mother herself had been there at one point in time. She liked to visit a couple of dozen towns in the US; Goldfield in Arizona, Dudleytown in Connecticut, Beeville in Indiana, these were all ghost towns, and in these ghost towns there was always something hidden for her and the children of the underworld to find. The spirits lead her to the bridge, and from it down to the banks of the nearby river.

There, in the clay, after digging and rooting around for a bit, she found a long wooden box. With trembling hands she opened it and found it contained, of all things, a scythe, six feet long, with a shining black blade as long as her forearm, a handle halfway down the shaft for her to grip, and a ruby set in near where the blade and the shaft met. She blinks at it. “I…” It was kinda pretty, in a stuff of nightmares kind of way. She smiles and looks at the nearest ghost. “Tell her...thanks from me…” She began to walk again, the scythe somehow shrinking and wrapping around her finger, now a ring with a brilliant ruby. She didn’t even question it. It was a long walk to the nearest bus station.

Eventually, her uncle lead her to New York City, after just one night sleeping in Central Park, he told her “Alright mija, tomorrow’s the day we’ll be there!” Susana felt her heart leap. The next day, one subway ticket, and one bus ticket later, she found herself on an old road near Montauk. She had briefly wondered if this was some long and needlessly complicated way to get her off in the woods by herself for a moment, when her Uncle suddenly pointed to a hill with a lone pine tree. “There! That’s the place!” He zoomed forward in the twilight before dawn and Susana ran up after him. As she crested the hill, she looked down into the valley beyond, down at the strawberry fields, the kids in orange just waking up, the big blue house, and the sound off in the distance and for the first time in a long time she felt like she was home.

​​​​​​​Wolfy778 (talk) 02:50, March 29, 2018 (UTC)