Name: Jared Marr
Gender: Male
God Parent: Nemesis, Nyx, Eris
Current Age: 18 years of age
Mortal Parent: Drake Marr
Appearance: Striking black hair with lifeless gray eyes, 5'10, 133 lbs.
Personality: I have learned to control all my emotions except for anger, of which I quickly fall into. I only speak when spoken to, when something is needed to be said, or if I have allowed my anger to consume me. I try to avoid girls, as I think them tiresome. My trust is hard to come by, but when it is earned it becomes unfailing.
History: Dear Reader,
If you are reading this it either means you are in my room without asking or I'm dead. No matter the way you found this, you shouldn't be reading it. I truly feel cursed having this journal as I've never written in it, yet there are words. My damn mother, forgive me Mother, gave me this when she left, along with the necklace around my neck. Before I get to those, though, I should probably tell the meeting of my parents.
My father would always say it was a dark night, a night without stars, in Vancouver, WA. A woman approached him, a woman of awestruck beauty. He had began to speak but stumbled over his own tongue. She chuckled more to herself than at him and said, "I've been watching you Drake, ever since you left that drink behind." My father was puzzled by this, but yet, didn't fight back as she dragged him away that night.
The morning after my birth, only this journal and my necklace remained of her. What confused Father more was the name "Jared" scrolled across the inside cover, with the inscription, "For his soon to pass fourteenth birthday..." My father always kept these under lock and key, counting the years to my fourteenth birthday.
Father collected ancient weaponry, but those especially dealing Greek warriors. It wasn't a rare sight to see a spear beside the couch, or a helmet next to my dinner plate. Father said that this was one of reasons Mother fell in love with him. Oh, if he had only known...
School was hard for me, seeing as how I had not only dyslexia but also ADHD. At age ten Father pulled me out of public-school, and taught me from home. The cool thing was that he was an instructor for sword-fighting. Hmm... Father's lessons always began with "You fight from the heart, not the body, and your mind can become an even greater weapon than your sword." I was a quick learn with the blade, my favorite being the short, curved one-sided blade called a kopis. The kopis was a secondary weapon for Hoplites. Before everything, I used to wonder why that blade, now it all makes sense...
It's the morning of my fourteenth birthday. Father woke me up at exactly 6:30 in the morning, and told me we were going to the "place where it all began." Today Father seemed really nervous or antsy. Before we left he gave the items my mother left behind, telling me to always keep them close. We both got into the car and drove literally five blocks down, when the front end of the car crumpled inwardly. The clock read fifty-six after the hour.
When I looked outside no other cars were on the road... Just a... a... Was that a Manticore?! I felt fear begin to bubble to the top, but I quickly suppressed it, and cleared my head. Then an aura passed over me, causing me to temporarily pass out. When i came to the car was now upside down, the low growl of the Manticore could be heard outside. In my head I heard my mother's voice. I don't know how, but I knew it was her's.
"Jared... The necklace... Jared... Use the necklace..."
"Oh, yeah a lot of help, Mom!" I yelled back, my anger getting the best of me. The guttural growls became louder in response. I quickly took off my necklace and noticed the circular pattern wasn't completely inline. Turning it to match the other framework, I nearly took off my head... with a bronze kopis.
I crawled out from beneath the vehicle, not quite getting out of the way of a clawed paw. My right arm dripped blood on the blackened tar. On that day I was actually glad I was left-handed. The beast swiped at my left side. I tucked myself below the swing. Another attack, now from the tale. Again I dodged, but once again it got me. The right arm went numb and I lost all control of it. The Manticore continued its relentless assault, now trying to get me underneath its paw. I raised my sword hand, slicing the underside of its paw. But instead of pressure bearing down on me, it rained dust, covering my hair and the asphalt upon which it had stood. I then collapsed... hearing hooves in the background...
When I came to once again, my necklace was around my neck, and I was in a bed. I could tell from the rooms I wasn't in any hospital; it was too clean inside. Cubes of something that resembled Jell-o sat next to me on a bedstand. I tried to force myself up but my right arm gave out. A female walked in, her hair tied back out of her face.
"Hey, don't try to move. You know, you are lucky to be alive; most would have died from the Manticore sting."
"Where am I?" I said plainly, getting annoyed at this talking.
"Well, Camp Half-Blood, of course!"
Possesions: Enchanted diary that writes my thoughts, and a necklace that turns into a kopis blade that always returns to my neck.
--Drace556 (talk) 16:30, April 6, 2013 (UTC)
How did he manage to get to 14 without any prior monster attack or without having signs pointing to his true identity. Also, kindly add more on his childhood. What happened to his father? A demigod with no prior training would be unable to kill a manticore without much injury. Am I correct to believe that the "here" which he talks of is Camp Half-Blood? Take your time. I've got forever to wait -Demi ღ
I'd like to repeat a previous question: What happened to his father? How did he get to camp and at what age? A satyr alone could not have carried him all the way to camp. Take your time. I've got forever to wait -Demi ღ