Post by Deleted on Oct 12, 2013 19:50:03 GMT -8
Uriel understood that he may not be in the best state of mind, he wasn't at his prime. He wasn't the former Crime Lord, Hitman and Trafficker everyone used to know him as. He was just a simple Warlock, with a temper as long as Ariadne's String, yet as volatile and explosive as Greek fire. He understood that he may have softened, but that didn't make him a complete fool. It was clear by the way everybody acted that they all had their own beliefs in who he was and how he was supposed to behave. When he didn't fit into their preconceived notions it was as if she disappointed them. Like they expected him to torch them alive, or perhaps zap them to ashes.
It wasn't an uncommon occurrence to hear mutterings and laughter outside his cabin ; comments about how he was as harmless as a kitten or no where near as scary as the papers portrayed him. Was it bad that he wasn't a raving murderous lunatic? Was that really what everybody wanted? Hades, he remembered his first few days at Camp Half blood, when he arrived with a hellhound as a guide. They recognized him as the Heist man doing several jobs, and immediately restrained and strapped him to the Big House. He recalled the faces staring at him with pure disgust and hate, some even fright. Yet as the days gone by, the straps slowly loosened, and people just grinned at him. As if mocking him. Is this Uriel, the one seen in the news? As helpless as a child in bondage? And his mistake was accepting that, and grinning back.
Enough disrespect was made to him, to the point that he had to overstep his boundaries and make a few...experiments. It was fascinating how a small fireball and home brewed flammable explosives could make an enemy of you in the mess hall. Everyone glared at him when he set the entire Athena and Ares cabin on fire and blamed it on each other. Even more so when collateral damage insisted and even set Dionysus' Pants on fire. It almost landed him certain death. But instead of getting choked by grapevines or being fed to the two bloodthirsty cabins, Dionysus gave him a "chance" to "Redeem himself" And to "Contemplate his actions and apology." But Uriel knew it was the sugar coated version of basically telling him to Get lost and go on guard duty by the tree.
And so, Uriel sat by the foot of Thalia's tree, with his ceremonial Dagger on his left hand, and his demonic hell hound resting on his lap and growing. Uriel traced his hand and ran it through the black fur of his little pet, all the while he traced symbols in the air with his dagger.As he finished, a purple light glowed briefly, right before disappearing. The symbols etched on the air was actually meant for defense against invaders.
The inscriptions were used to stop the individuals from crossing the borders. Lately, just shielding the mortals using the mist proved unsatisfactory, with most of them actually being eaten by Peleus...even if it pained the Drakon. Because most mortals who could see through the mist were either Hobos, or Conspiracy Theorists that smelled really bad. So Uriel tried to make it less painful for the dragons by putting up shields and barriers that was sure to send mortals stunned and put to sleep for more than a whole day. Enough to put them back. The barrier as well was to keep stronger monsters away.
Uriel just kept on working with the barrier, the shimmering lights kept disappearing, till it formed a suitable wall for the camp. Uriel stretched, and sheathed his knife. He stood, the hellhound stretching and purring. It almost looked like he was a normal dog. Only able to consume people slowly. Uriel twisted on his heels, before he heard his hound bark and growl. It's tail standing straight. As if ready to attack. Uriel was certain that it found someone near. A small smile cracked at his lips, and he spoke "And who might be spying on this little delinquent son of Hecate?" Uriel mused and turned to the direction of which his hound was facing,
It wasn't an uncommon occurrence to hear mutterings and laughter outside his cabin ; comments about how he was as harmless as a kitten or no where near as scary as the papers portrayed him. Was it bad that he wasn't a raving murderous lunatic? Was that really what everybody wanted? Hades, he remembered his first few days at Camp Half blood, when he arrived with a hellhound as a guide. They recognized him as the Heist man doing several jobs, and immediately restrained and strapped him to the Big House. He recalled the faces staring at him with pure disgust and hate, some even fright. Yet as the days gone by, the straps slowly loosened, and people just grinned at him. As if mocking him. Is this Uriel, the one seen in the news? As helpless as a child in bondage? And his mistake was accepting that, and grinning back.
Enough disrespect was made to him, to the point that he had to overstep his boundaries and make a few...experiments. It was fascinating how a small fireball and home brewed flammable explosives could make an enemy of you in the mess hall. Everyone glared at him when he set the entire Athena and Ares cabin on fire and blamed it on each other. Even more so when collateral damage insisted and even set Dionysus' Pants on fire. It almost landed him certain death. But instead of getting choked by grapevines or being fed to the two bloodthirsty cabins, Dionysus gave him a "chance" to "Redeem himself" And to "Contemplate his actions and apology." But Uriel knew it was the sugar coated version of basically telling him to Get lost and go on guard duty by the tree.
And so, Uriel sat by the foot of Thalia's tree, with his ceremonial Dagger on his left hand, and his demonic hell hound resting on his lap and growing. Uriel traced his hand and ran it through the black fur of his little pet, all the while he traced symbols in the air with his dagger.As he finished, a purple light glowed briefly, right before disappearing. The symbols etched on the air was actually meant for defense against invaders.
The inscriptions were used to stop the individuals from crossing the borders. Lately, just shielding the mortals using the mist proved unsatisfactory, with most of them actually being eaten by Peleus...even if it pained the Drakon. Because most mortals who could see through the mist were either Hobos, or Conspiracy Theorists that smelled really bad. So Uriel tried to make it less painful for the dragons by putting up shields and barriers that was sure to send mortals stunned and put to sleep for more than a whole day. Enough to put them back. The barrier as well was to keep stronger monsters away.
Uriel just kept on working with the barrier, the shimmering lights kept disappearing, till it formed a suitable wall for the camp. Uriel stretched, and sheathed his knife. He stood, the hellhound stretching and purring. It almost looked like he was a normal dog. Only able to consume people slowly. Uriel twisted on his heels, before he heard his hound bark and growl. It's tail standing straight. As if ready to attack. Uriel was certain that it found someone near. A small smile cracked at his lips, and he spoke "And who might be spying on this little delinquent son of Hecate?" Uriel mused and turned to the direction of which his hound was facing,
