Archived:Kieran Patterson

Personality
Reserved, driven, sarcastic. At first, Kieran appears quiet. He's not known as being particularly friendly, because he's moved around so much. But, people who actually know him know that he has a great sense of humour, quick wit and creative mind. These personality traits mean he usually ends up with a small but loyal group of friends if he is in town long enough. When he's happy, he smiles and laughs etc, but when he is listening or is upset about something, he will go very quiet and keep his distance from all those who care for him. He also has rather low self-esteem, and feels lonely a lot of the time, until he met his brother. Kieran is a very keen writer and will most often be seen sitting under a tree or in his room writing when he isn't running or training. He loves creating stories and different worlds and has always used writing as an escape whenever the world gets too much to handle.

History
Benjamin Patterson worked at an old Manhattan book store that was situated in a little side street and hardly ever got customers. The book store, Ben's Books, didn't gather much revenue and always seemed to have way too much dust within it to be healthy, no matter how often he cleaned. Nevertheless, Ben loved the bookstore and spent much of his life behind the counter or browsing its shelves. One day, a beautiful woman entered the store and began looking through the shelves.

"Excuse me, miss. Are you looking for something in particular?" Ben asked. The woman smiled and shook her head. Ben smiled too and said, "Well let me know if you need anything." No other customers came into Ben's Books that day, but the mystery woman didn't leave until closing. By midday, Ben was sitting in the armchair opposite the woman, talking to her about Charles Dickens.

When Ben checked his watch to see it was past closing time and he should be heading home, he gasped.

"What is it?" the woman asked. Ben realised he didn't know her name.

"I... Uh, didn't realise it was so late. I should've closed up the shop ten minutes ago," Ben said sheepishly. The woman stood, a soft smile on her face.

"Until the next time, Benjamin," the woman smiled, offering her hand.

"Why... Yes, uh, I didn't get your name," Ben said. The woman was almost at the door. She stopped on the threshold and turned, smirking, as if in on some secret joke.

"Charlie. My name is Charlie," she said and left. Only many weeks later would Ben realise that perhaps the the name Charlie was more of a reference to their conversation than her actual name.

"Charlie" returned to the bookstore every day for the next week. Ben found himself opening the bookstore early just so he knew he'd be ready for her visit. Every time she vistited, they found themselves talking about a different author. Shakespeare on Tuesday, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on Wednesday, Mark Twain on Thursday, F. Scott Fitzgerald on Friday.

After a megre two weeks, Ben had to admit he was in love. It took him another week to gather the courage to ask Charlie to go out for coffee across the street. Coffee turned into dinner, and eventually, dinner turned into staying the night. Then, after a month, she just didn't turn up at the bookstore anymore. She didn't have a phone and Ben realised he'd been stupid not to ask for her phone number. Somehow every time he thought of doing so, he had forgotten.

It was ten months later and Ben was closing up Ben's Books for the night. He was just locking up the back room when the bell at the front door tinkled.

"I'm sorry, we're closed," Ben called to the shop.

"You said Ben's Books would always be open to me, Benjamin."

Ben turned around. Standing at the counter was Charlie.

"No. You left me. Without a word. You have no place here anymore," Ben growled. Charlie smiled.

"My dearest Benjamin. My lovely, kind, brilliant Benjamin. I will always have a place here. If it weren't for me, this place would not exist," Charlie looked sad, tears lining her eyes even as she smiled.

"I don't understand."

"Of course you do not," she said sadly. "And, alas, I can not tell you. Nor will you see me again. The King has forbidden it. However, I have one last gift to you." Charlie turned around and a light flashed. When she returned, she was dressed in a pure white dress and had tiny bundles of white cloth nestled in each arm.

"What is it? I want nothing from you!" Ben protested, even as his heart soared.

"Our boys," Charlie said, looking down at one of the bundles. Kieran's tiny hand reached up from the folds and tried to grab at her chin. "Look after them, please? Make sure they are safe. Whatever wrongs I have done towards you, these boys are innocent and they will have no easy life. Do what you can for them, and remember me with fondness. Maybe then they will not be as bitter as some of my nieces and nephews."

"I will," Ben vowed, but he knew that he couldn't. Not when every day they would be a reminder of the love that had left him. Charlie nodded and placed Kieran and Adam in his arms. The boys looked up at him with emerald eyes. He looked up, hoping to say one last thing to Charlie, but she had dissappeared. Ben never saw her again, never knew her true identity as Mnemosyne. Kieran and Adam were put up for adoption the next day.

Kieran grew up moving from foster family to foster family. He never made many friends and kept moving schools as he moved families. Because of this, he grew to resent his parents for giving him up. By the age of ten, Kieran was getting into fights at school and coming home bloody or bruised. He never took his anger out on innocents though, just the kids who baited him by telling him he was unloved and confirming what Kieran already knew. Eventually, his foster parents would be unable to handle the fights and bad grades and would send him away, back into the foster system. The only peace Kieran ever felt was in his writing. When he was eleven, he was given a notebook for Christmas. Kieran immediately began to write stories about troubled kids like him who became heroes. He dreamed of becoming his characters and would often write late into the night under his sheets with a torch and a pen, concocting stories to keep the world at bay. After he began writing, Kieran got into fights less, and spent more time by himself, writing about some kid's adventures he didn't believe he'd ever have.

First attack: Hellhound (Aged 13)

Kieran and his foster family were walking in the park. Kieran was playing by the river with his foster brother when he heard a growl.

"Look!" Kieran's foster brother, James clapped. Kieran screamed. The dog towered over him and James. Kieran scrambled to his feet and nearly fell into the lake.

"Bad dog!" he cried. Jamed climbed to his feet to and took a step towards the giant dog. The huge hound charged at Kieran. James screamed louder than it should be for a five year old and his parents came running. A goat man leaped in front of the huge hound and Kieran ran for his life. When the police found him, he was halfway home and still running. His foster parents claimed he pushed James into the path of the dog ("God knows what would have happened if that man hadn't intervened!") and he was moved on into a home for boys.

Second attack: Harpy (Aged 14)

Kieran had liked his old social worker. She had given him chocolate and smelled like cookies. This new one didn't seem so nice. Kieran suspected she was a witch, the way she kept looking at him as if he was her next meal. He'd read Hansel and Gretel. He knew that witches ate children.

The social worker had been called after his third fight that week. This time, Billy Jonston had told him the reason he was in foster care was because his parents hadn't wanted him. After kid had been hounding him all week, Kieran had snapped and punched the kid in the nose. He had punched him so hard, Kieran had gotten blood on his shirt from the spatter.

"I'm sorry, Mr and Mrs Roache. I know you said you were prepared for his antics when you took him in last spring," the new Social Worker had said. "But I apologise. I will talk to him. Impress on him how important good behaviour is. Come here, Kieran," she lead him into a vacant room at the school office and sat him down. She gave a savage grin.

"I know the mist does wonders for hiding my true appearance, but I'm afraid that if I ate you in public, even the Mist wouldn't be able to hide the bloodstains." She laughed and began to change. Her fingers grew into talons. her hair turned blue and feathery and her clothes melted into her, revealing blue plumage and long flight feathers on her arms. The Harpy screeched and lunged for Kieran, who screamed and ran for the door. He managed to open it, but not before the Harpy took off and tried to attack him with her talons, reaching for him like a bird of prey. Kieran darted out, but one of her claws scratched his arm, rippin his sleeve and drawing blood. He wanted to cry, but kept running and was out of the office building before the adults seemed to register what was going on. The Harpy was still chasing him so, without even planning it, he changed direction, heading towards the school gates and the street outside. The Harpy circled over head, emitting sounds that seemed to be halfway between a screech and a cackle. Kieran turned right and sprinted down the street, heading for the park, the idea seeming safer than the street somehow.

As he entered the park, he heard the clippity-clop of hoofs on the ashphalt and turned to see the Headmaster's assistant racing after him. Except... From the waist down he was a goat. Like the goat man he'd seen when his old foster brother James was bitten by that huge dog.

Caught by surprise, Kieran slowed.

"Hey, kid," the goat-man-assistant said. "Stop here for a minute, I gotta have a few words with your social worker." Kieran complied and stopped, chest heaving from his long, all-out sprint. There was a triumphant screech and the Harpy/social worker flew down, aiming for Kieran. "Not so fast," the goat man said, and leaped higher than would be natural for a human, arms out, and pulled the harpy from the air, speeding up her descent. The goat man wrestled with the bird woman and pulled out a bronze dagger from seemingly nowhere and cut the Harpy in half. Instead of blood spilling everywhere, the Harpy crumbled into gold dust and was blown away in the wind.

"Hey, kid," the goat man said. "Are you okay?" Kieran nodded, going into shock. "Thats okay. Listen. You need to pay attention, okay? Its not safe for you here anymore. I gotta get you somewhere safe. So this is what we're going to do. You and I are going on an adventure. I'm going to take you home."

"But my house is just down the street," Kieran said, finding his voice. the goat man laughed.

"Nah, not that house. Your real home. With your real family," the goat man said. "Come with me." He took Kieran's hand and lead him out of the park and down the road to the bus station. There, they both got on a bus to Long Island.

"Who are you?" Kieran asked.

"I'm Giles. I'm a satyr," Kieran's new friend replied.

"A Satyr?"

"Yep. I'm Giles the Goat Man."

"Hi, Giles the Goat Man. I'm Kieran Patterson."

"Hiya, Kieran. Look. We're almost home," Giles pointed out of the window. Trees were now the only thing passing by the windows. It was getting dark.

Kieran realised there were no other people on the bus. Soon, the bus pulled to a stop. Giles grinned.

"I paid the bus driver to take us a little further," he said, winking. But we're going to have to walk to the top of that hill, okay? And quick. Cause we don't want any more bird ladies or worse catching up to us."

"No," Kieran agreed.

"So lets go." Kieran nodded and ran to the top of the hill. He stood at the top and gasped. Over the hill was a huge camp! Kieran could see lots of cabins and kids fighting with swords. He looked up at Giles curiously.

"Is this my home? Is my family here?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure is, kid. This is Camp Half-Blood." Giles handed Kieran a bronze dagger. "You're gonna need this."

Powers
Powers of a Child of Mnemosyne