Leandra Kershaw, Daughter of Angerona REMAKE

Name: Leandra Kershaw
Age: 15
Gender: Female
God Parent: Angerona, Roman Goddess of Relieving Pain and Anguish of Men, Defender of Rome, Protector of Rome's Sacred Name. Also, incidentally, the namesake of the word “Angina”
Mortal Parent: Edward Kershaw
Date of Birth: July 18th, 2000
Place of Birth: A true Roman, where else? Rome. Well, okay, Rome, Georgia.
Hometown/Last Residence: Athens, Alabama. This doesn’t mean she likes Greeks any better.
Race/ethnicity: African American
Accent:
Leandra was born and raised in Georgia, by Alabamians, and also spent time in Alabama. So while those from anywhere but Alabama and Georgia would say "It's a Southern accent", it's more than that, it's a hybrid between North Alabama and North Georgia. With a little bit of California mixed in. She speaks Latin without an accent, but everything else is tinged with that southern drawl.

Mainly her southern accent comes out in the form of double vowel lilts, a lack of distinction between e and i sounds such as pin and pen(seriously, those words sound the same), and kind of chewing on her consonants. When she’s tired or stressed a little more of her accent comes out and she’ll drop the -o sound off her words for an -er sound. Like a tornader is comin’. The other thing is less of an accent and more that she will use “southernisms.”

Skin Tone: Caramel colored, she tans darker in the summer when they spend more time outside.
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Black
Hair Length: Curly shoulder length hair. If she were to press it straight, it would reach around her midback.
Height: 4’9
Weight: 92 lbs without armor, let’s just say that with armor she weighs about twice as much.
Body Type: Petite and thin, but with lean musculature.
Appearance:

Leandra is a petite African-American teen with a medium skin-tone and curly black hair that she tends to keep natural, in pony tails or a bun, as she isn’t very fond of braids. It takes her at least 30 minutes in the morning to get her hair to cooperate, and after having to wear a helmet for a few hours, it can look like a hot mess.

Over the past year she has gained a little over an inch of height and about 15 lb of body-weight. Almost all of this has been distributed to her hips and breasts, but she still very much has a girl-ish figure. She’s hoping she will develop a little more as time goes on. She is a woman by ancient rites. The girl has a small frame, which looks out of place amongst her strong fellow soldiers, but works well for scouting and as a medic. She smiles a lot, but is quite capable of looking both serious and disapproving. She doesn’t, however, hold the physical capacity to look intimidating.

She tends to stick with the Camp Jupiter t-shirt, but also likes to class it up with different pants and shoes, and the occasional thing of jewelry. She always wears a watch on her right wrist, analog with a sweeping second-hand so she can count pulse rates without difficulty. Outside of camp, on leave, she tends to wear tank-tops in the summer and bundle up in layers of sweaters in the winter. Unfortunately, tank-tops do show off a various number of scars she has gotten from Camp Jupiter and her time in the legion, including the ones on her chest from a hellhound attack and on her back from punishments. She has recently stopped wearing shorts altogether thanks to an injury to her right leg that caused serious scarring. Because of this, she also walks with a limp. At the same time she received the leg scars, she received scars to both sides which has her too self-conscious to wear any bathing suit that isn't a tasteful one-piece.

Starting in the spring of 2015, Leandra started carrying around a backpack. Plain black with purple piping. It doesn’t look like much at all, but it can easily contain all of her armor and her gladius. It was a gift from her mother, Angerona, and Leandra is very happy with it.

Weapon**:
Leandra preferences an imperial gold pugio she named Sting, but also has an imperial gold gladius and a few imperial gold-tipped plumbatas that she can use. She tends to avoid the pilum entirely, but will carry one if insisted by superiors.

Armor:

Leandra wears a small version of the lorica squamata armor, which is big for her, with leather and steel greaves and manica. She carries a standard scutum that stands at 4ft. tall. While this is incredibly large for her, she has become adept at using the scutum for defense, especially since it covers well over 80% of her body. Her helmet is an Imperial Gallic G, made of stainless steel with gold plated trimmings for decoration. These can all fit in backpack so she can pull it out when necessary.

Pets: No pets, just a stuffed Minotaur named Tiny Toby that lives on her bed.


Skills/Talents:
- She is pretty talented with first aid and field medicine. She doesn’t use anything that can require a prescription, but after years of study and obsession with anatomy and physiology, as well as pre-modern and survival medicine, she can rival or beat the Apollo kids with field medicine. She keeps a fully stocked bag with her when she’s in armor, which holds bandages, nectar, unicorn draught, alcohol, and a few other things that could be necessary for field medicine. Also OTC medicines able to be purchased at any neighborhood pharmacy. However, this means that most of her patience have to do without the benefit of pain medicine.
- Very stealthy, quiet. She can move like a deer in the woods, quietly without much noise at all. When she’s not wearing her armor. Then it’s harder. She can move deftly, but not very quickly, she can’t run while being quiet, but she can walk quickly. It’s a talent that has taken years to build up, but it also means sometimes she’ll accidentally do it without thinking about it and sneak up on someone without meaning to. She has to watch that or some paranoid Roman is going to end up chopping her head off.
- Fast sprinter. Unladen, she can sprint at about 11mph, which is about average for track runners. In full gear, she is considerably slower, at about 8. She is not a marathoner. She doesn’t run more than a mile at a time unless something is chasing her or she’s on assignment to sneak up to something. She will happily walk for miles, though. Or march.
- Sarcasm. Is sarcasm a talent? Sarcasm is definitely a talent. And a defensive wall for if she doesn’t want to answer questions. Unfortunately, it can also be a flaw as shown below.
- She is decent enough at giving advice. On most things. Definitely medical things. Pretty decent with interpersonal issues. Not so good on the dating. She hasn’t figure that part out on her own yet. She’s still waiting on a hero.
- Figuring people out by observation. That is to say picking up on body language, voice inflection and conversational clues. She can be very attentive to that when she wants to be. Sometimes she doesn’t pay any attention at all, but she does like to do it. Especially if she’s people watching. She likes to people watch and gauge what is going on by what people are reacting to.

Flaws:
- Cannot tell people's secrets. Really. She gets violently nauseated, with symptoms similar to a hypoglycemic with the flu. Sweating, body aches, nausea, headache, feeling of impending doom, that kind of stuff. She also loses her voice. The affects are directly proportional to how important the secret is. Unfortunately, she also hates the affects so much that she gets very anxious at even telling her own secrets and has been known to hyperventilate into unconsciousness rather than tell a secret of her own.
- Can be sarcastic at the wrong times. Leandra has been known to get all sorts of punishment for her smart mouth, because she is prone to popping out sarcastic comments when they aren’t needed.
- Too small to effectively use the armor and shield Roman-style, also really, she's just short by any means. Can't reach a lot of things. Being short can really suck. 4’9 isn’t tall enough to do anything. She’s barely tall enough to ride the rides at Disney World. She has to use a booster seat. When she becomes old enough to drive, she’s going to have a hard time finding a car that will fit her. It’s not fun at all. Also, people tend to think she’s a lot younger than she is because she’s so small. She could, if she wanted to, still eat off the kid’s menu at most diners. And people use her as an armrest.
- Can be easily distracted from her mission by compassion. Or distracted by anything from compassion. She could be distracted from killing someone by compassion. That’s the worst thing. Unless they’re against Rome, in which case, DIE. But anyway, she’s very compassionate, even if she hates someone, she doesn’t want to see them in anguish or despair. She’ll blame her mother for that one.
- Distrusting of outsiders, she'll blame her mother for that one too. Unless you’re Roman, there will always be a little bit of distrust by Leandra. She will be quiet and guarded with her information. She would never show even a Greek where the camp was. Mortals will never hear of it’s existence from her. She doesn’t even like giving mortals her full name. It’s really paranoia to a degree, but she’ll blame her mother for that one.
- Arrogant about Roman superiority. Oooh, she’s going to blame her mother for this one too. She thinks Roman ways are the bomb-diggity-dog. And who could blame her? They are highly efficient and organized. Maybe a little prone to violence. Actually, she tends to be a little concerned about the violence. Still she thinks the Romans did it the best and she will fight anyone who says otherwise.
- All her flaws she is happily willing to blame on her mother, Angerona. And she’ll blame that one on Angerona as well. The absent mother who gave her so much to live up to, and such a strong burden is someone she both loves and hates. She sees a lot of herself in her mother, and therefore blames those qualities on her.
- Left shoulder is prone to dislocation. This is secondary to a unicorn stampede, wherein she was nearly drowned. Tiberia, at the time a fellow Probatio, rescued her from the water, but given how she was trapped, her shoulder was dislocated in the rescue. A few eagle falls after that and her left shoulder will pop out if she’s not careful. It doesn’t hurt her when it does, but it leave the arm completely useless. And going back into place DOES hurt.
- She is hiding a moderate case of PTSD, and it can affect her judgement on things and prevents her from sleeping. It makes her have nightmares, specifically about the hellhound she encountered in the Caldecott tunnel. It has been known to wake her up from her sleep. She has, surprisingly, actually slept better since she won Toby at the faire.

* NOTE: Leandra was attacked by an Automaton Hellhound in early July of 2015, and her PTSD symptoms have gotten much more significant and difficult to hide. Only time can tell if she'll ever be the same again.

Strengths:
- Intelligence and intuition come naturally to her, she also augments them with diligent study and hard work.
- She is loyal, perhaps to a fault. Once you have her loyalty, she may disagree with you, but she will never betray you. Loyal to Rome to the death.
- She has a fairly logical mind and can work through things quickly using a number of different methods. She is best with medical decisions, but can make other decisions too. And she sticks with them.

Weaknesses:
Looking at the decisions that she makes and being able to make them quickly, she does have one major weakness with it. Wrong or right, she sticks with the decisions she makes, and doesn’t often change them. This can be a considerable weakness if she makes the wrong decision.
Not a good leader. Seriously, she doesn’t have the ability to lead. She is a follower and content at that. When it comes to leading, she just kind of hopes to win by making people think she has the most logical decision. And when people do things to undermine her authority, she has to deal with it herself, because she can’t tell anyone else, but she’s a total push-over. So she’s not a good leader at all. Doesn’t want to be.
Leandra is terrified of Hellhounds. Like literally terrified of them. She will instantly fly into flight or fight mode when she sees hellhounds. Or very large black dogs, which she may mistake as hellhounds.
Fight or flight mode naturally leans towards flight, but fight has been ingrained into her so hard that when she’s afraid or anxious, even in a social situation, there’s a possibility of someone getting stabbed. Or she’ll waffle between the two and just kind of hyperventilate.
She is a little paranoid at times and doesn’t like to be unarmed, except in New Rome.
Cannot hold her alcohol, pretty much at all. Seriously, a couple of shots and she’s out for the count. Gets bad hang-overs. Also vodka tastes nasty.

Likes:
- Okay, Leandra is a little bit of a nerd. She loves science-fiction and fantasy, of all different time periods. She’ll happily watch anything from Twilight Zone to the new Battlestar Galactica. She has Tolkien’s The Hobbit all but memorized. She loves it. And she likes historical novels as well. She loves to read.
- Don’t tell her mother, but Leandra loves listening to music loud enough to give her permanent hearing damage. Like hear it across the room and she has headphones in type loud. Mainly going for metal when it’s that loud, but she really enjoys most musical styles. She doesn’t sing much, but she has been known to totally rock out while listening to music and make a fool of herself.
- Medicine. Like that wasn’t obvious enough. She’s kind of obsessed with it. She loves it. She hopes to work in it as an adult. She has a fascination for pre-modern medicine and survival medicine, things that can be done without a prescription for anything. This is part of what makes her an excellent healer, she doesn’t have to rely on magical powers to do things.
- Discipline and order. While she can be a little bit disorganized at times, Leandra would go completely insane if it weren’t for the discipline and order at Camp Jupiter. She doesn’t keep lists or anything like that, but she keeps everything neat and tidy and well organized. Anyone could find things in her medical bag or backpack.

Dislikes:
- Flying. Mainly because of flying on eagles. Julius, the eagle she’s always assigned to, is an old ornery bird who likes to bite. She and Julius do not really get along. However, he’s used to her being a bad flyer and will catch her if she falls. So she doesn’t really truly dislike him, but she still hates flying. Also she will swear up and down she hates Julius...even though she brings him snacks.
- Hellhounds. And big black dogs. Seriously has nightmares about hellhounds. Can’t stand them. Terrified of them. Irrationally so. This has only gotten worse recently.
- Monsters in general. I mean, she’s trained to kill them all. Except the good ones. And apparently for the Graecus the Centaurs, Cyclopes and Fawns, ‘scuse me, Satyrs, are good? Eh, well, she doesn’t like the Graecus scum either.
- Okay, truth time, for a while, Leandra actually supported the idea of wiping the Greek off the map and killing them completely. She doesn’t like them, she doesn’t trust them. She will admit that supporting Octavian was not exactly the smartest thing she had ever done, and that it was necessary to let the Greeks live. Still, she doesn’t like the Greeks. She’s trying to work on it, slowly, and now she’s less of a “Let’s kill all the Greeks” and more of a “Ugh, a Greek?” There are a few she likes, and Tiberia will always drag her to Greek functions to try to get her to socialize with Greeks a little more. But more than likely, Leandra will always be a little biased toward Greeks.
- Her lack of cool powers. There’s nothing wrong with her powers, she just really thinks she got the short end of the stick by not really getting anything cool. All her powers are good for are for helping other people. Nothing fancy, nothing that will make anyone go “Wow, that’s a powerful demi-god there.” No, it’s helping people. How lame is that? Couldn’t she have at least gotten something where she could talk to dogs? Or something. Seriously resentful there.
- People who don’t like sarcasm. Because she is nothing but sarcastic.
- Polyamory. It is wrong, wrong, wrong. Awful. An abomination of all things pure and holy. How can anyone condone polyamory? Seriously, that should not happen. Mixing Latin and Greek to make a word? NO! It should be polyeros or multiamory.
- Eggplant. Seriously. Who likes eggplant?



Personality:

Leandra is a talkative person with a quiet voice, which can't get very loud even when she tries. She is a patient ambivert who fluctuates between needing companionship to recharge and being alone to recharge. She is energetic, and likes to exercise, but she also likes to read and learn things. She is as fiend for playing games.

Leandra is a very compassionate person who cannot stand to see someone in pain, or under stress. She finds ways to relieve suffering, even if it means taking the suffering on herself. She loves medicine, she likes reading about it and practicing with it. Perhaps when she's older she'll become a doctor or a nurse. An anesthesiologist maybe. She does already have that medical humor and propensity for sarcasm in the face of anything.

Secrets are something that Leandra both loves and hates. She doesn't mind being everyone's secret-keeper, but it can put an emotional strain on her if she feels it shouldn't be a secret. She's terrified that one day she will have a secret so important that she would die if she tried to tell, or go permanently mute. Also, you know, it can suck knowing people’s secrets.

Leandra would be a pacifist if she could, but she isn't exactly allowed to be. Sic vis pacem parabellum If you wish for peace, prepare for war. She knows violence and suffering is sometimes necessary, so she is capable with weapons. Despite not being a fantastic Roman-style fighter, Leandra is dangerous. She's very quiet naturally, and can move like a cat. She tends to fight dirty when not doing drills, going for the bifircum and other sensitive places. Her fighting styles change based on the need, and she tends to rely heavily on her scutum when fighting Roman style. Without her armor and gear, she doesn’t look imposing, but is a lot faster with a knife or gladius, and tends to do both slashes and the typical Roman thrusting.

She protects her friends and is fiercely protective of Rome. She is willing to die for Rome, but more than that, she is willing to kill for Rome. That being said, she is blindly loyal to Rome and only Rome, and while she will protect her friends with her life, Rome comes before her friends. Rome comes before anything. She’ll break rules for Rome if she feels she has to, but more often she will follow orders she disagrees with because discipline is the foundation of Rome.

On the issue of Rome, Leandra is biased. Very biased. She sees Roman gods as superior, Roman discipline and techniques as superior. Insulting Rome will not endear you to her, it will in fact make you her enemy. She sometimes has doubts about the superiority of Roman-ness, but she rarely speaks of them.

Leandra tends to be the more level-headed non-violent voice of a group(Unless hellhounds are involved). If she were a witch, she would be a Hufflepuff. Or she could be the designated driver of the group. Despite being the younger of her friends in the 3rd, Leandra is one that people can go to for advice on things, despite needing it on her own as well. When with other legionaries not of the 3rd, she tends to be quiet and tries to act as a mentor to the younger ones, though she does have a bad habit of feeling smugly superior to those on probatio.

On the subject matter of her godly mother, and her powers, Leandra is highly torn. She thinks that Angerona has placed a horrible burden on her to always be the confessor. She resents that, but at the same time, she understands it. And at the same time she hates it. It’s kind of a love hate relationship with it. The taking of men’s anguish? Well, that she doesn’t hate as much, except when she uses it it accidentally. Or right after she uses it. It affects her for a while, and it makes her feel not quite herself. Usually that’s when she is most negative about that power. She feels like her mom put a lot on her without giving anything back in return, and she’s spent years harboring some resentment over that, especially since she never had any sign of anything except her claiming. On the other hand, when Leandra got her backpack from her mother, she was sobbing with happiness at being recognized and having a sign shown to her that she was loved. She goes to pray at the shrine of Angerona, now feeling a mixture of both love and resentment. Maybe some day she will talk to her mother and things will be sorted out, but right now, she feels like she is wholly disconnected from her mother and hates her but wants her affection. So a normal teenager, really.

Abilities:

- As much a power as a flaw, she has the most amazing ability to keep secrets. She will die before she gives up a secret unwillingly. She cannot be broken to betray a trust, she can only give it up willingly, and even then at a price. When she betrays secrets willingly, she feels very ill and loses her voice. When someone tries to get information out of her unwillingly, she will clam up and not speak. No one has ever tortured her severely, so she doesn’t what would happen if she were tortured to near insanity. She has a feeling, though, that she would simply lose the ability to speak or possibly even write in order to protect her secrets. This makes her an excellent courier, but she will kill anyone who suggests that as a job.

Powers:
- Leandra can share the pain of others to help relieve their suffering. She can take on mental anguish, but she can only take up to one third of someone’s mental anguish. She feels the pain blunted by about 10%, and it will affect her for the length of the thread. She can only do this for one post out of every twenty, but the results are permanent for that particular episode of anguish, she has to eat afterwards as it tends to make her feel very hungry and tired. When she takes someone's anxiety or anguish, she doesn't get details on why they are feeling it or the thoughts running through their head. She just feels the emotions.
- Leandra is growing the ability to silence things at her command. Currently this only works for inanimate objects(things which are not alive) within 1 meter of her. The silence lasts for 4 posts and she has a cooldown period of 6 posts. She is still learning how to use this power, and hopes to grow it in the future.


Life Before Camp*:

Life is a funny thing, isn't it? Truth be told, Leandra never wanted to be a demigod, she just wanted to be normal. That couldn't happen, though. You see, her dad, Edward Kershaw, was a paramedic in Georgia, and a good one at that. He was on the job for years, and enjoyed helping people. He was known as being a generally caring guy who couldn’t stand to see someone who needed help. The type of person who would give his own shirt off his back. He and his wife, Dedre, were also polyamorous.

A few years into their marriage, Edward and Dedre met Angerona, and Edward was hooked. It was love, perhaps, more than lust. That was strange for Edward, since he truly loved Dedre, and didn’t want to cheat on her emotionally. She was alright with the relationship, as long as he knew when to come back to her. Angerona didn’t speak much, but loved to listen to his stories about compassion and helping people. The two had a whirlwind relationship, that after a year, just stopped. She left without another word, never really explaining why. Edward was disappointed, but not devastated. During that time, Dedre had bore him a son, Reginald. A few months after Angerona left, a baby girl was delivered to his front porch with a letter explaining some things, but not everything. This letter detailed that their daughter might be different, because of Roman mythology, and that she herself was the goddess of soothing men’s anguish. It left detailed instructions for what was to be done with Leandra should her powers manifest or monsters attack.

Life was normal-ish for Leandra, who was named after Edward's mother. She was raised thinking that Dedre and Reggie were her family, and she still views them as such. That was until her brother started telling her secrets. She couldn't tell them without losing her voice and feeling very ill, in fact her parents thought she was a rather sickly child, and she was checked for laryngitis and ear infections constantly. Soon she learned not to tell people's secrets. This wasn't really a problem, though, no one likes a tattle-tale. Then she started learning the secrets of schoolmates. One secret, she needed to tell, but she was terrified, not of the consequence of her friendship, but the consequence of her telling, since she knew that she constantly got sick from telling secrets.

Leandra told her parents that her friend Darren was being hit by his parents, and she was afraid for him. It was the first time she had ever told a major secret, at the tender age of five, and she instantly regretted it. Initially her parents suspected an appendicitis, and rushed her to the hospital. Except she had also lost her voice, so they did more tests. She was sick as a dog for three days. Unfortunately, even when she felt better a few days later, she still had no voice for several days. Every test imaginable was run on her. MRI, CT scan, with and without contrast for both. EEG. CBC, BMP and a bunch more letter soup. Nothing was able to explain why she was unable to use her voice. They did everything but take her tonsils out.

So, Leandra was introduced to a psychologist. The psychologist initially believed some sort of trauma related to Darren’s parents. Then some sort of trauma relating to her parents. Then it was anyone’s best guess on why the girl couldn’t talk. However, she did regain her voice and try to explain that it just always happened when she told a secret. For some reason, no one believed her. Weird, not believing children. Anyway, she ended up staying in therapy for a few months, but it didn’t go very far because Leandra didn’t want to tell her own secrets anymore for fear that she would end up sick, and she certainly didn’t want to tell anyone else’s. This all but brought CPS down on the Kershaw family, though they were able to prove they were loving and caring and they had plenty of character witnesses.


The family moved after that incident to Athens, Alabama, under the pretenses of being closer to family. There weren't any more incidents for a while. Leandra kept mainly to herself in school, being known as the quiet teacher’s pet, but never a tattle-tale. She did well in school, and enjoyed it, but did get in a few fights with people over them being tattle-tales. Mainly calling them things like “poopy-head” and things that six and seven year olds do.

When Leandra was eight, she came across another secret she couldn't tell. This time the anxiety of not telling was almost as bad as the pain of telling. See, even as a child, Leandra never slept well. And she was constantly up when she wasn’t suppose to be. So she heard things her parents would say when they thought the kids were asleep. It wasn’t usually anything important. A lot of times it was things she didn’t understand. Then it started to be fights, about money and reckless decisions. Fights about divorce. Then serious discussions about divorce. Her parents were likely going to split up. She wanted to tell her brother, she was so torn up. Finally, she told Reggie, and she thought she was going to die. She was floored, puking everywhere, too weak to move, she was taken to the ER by ambulance, and once again unable to talk for days. There were a few psychologist and psychiatrists that visited this time. It was attributed to the anxiety from her parent’s impending divorce, which almost makes sense in the mortal world. Almost, but Edward seemed to put two and two together this time.

When Leandra was able to talk again, her father took her to California, telling her that she had to go to a special camp her birth mother had sent him a letter about. Leandra was hurt and confused by this sudden move. She didn’t have a real chance to say good-bye to her family. She didn’t even know that Dedre hadn’t been her real mother. It hurt more than she could express at the time. And then there was the whole who her mother was thing. She was clueless about Roman mythology and anything involving her mother's history, not even her mother's name. It was a final devastating blow when her father left her in the woods to be found by a wolf, instead of taking her to a camp.

The burned house, Lupa and the wolves life and death decisions, no weakness. It was a lot for a 8 year old to take in. Seriously, it is not easy to deal with as an adult going through armed forces boot-camp, and this was not as easy as boot-camp. This was learning to survive with a teacher who spoke only through body language and growls, and having to fight monsters and learn to stalk and stare. It is tough to make a pacifist 8 year old go through this. She didn’t have an aggressive bone in her body. Despite this, she was able succeed in training with Lupa and the pack. During the almost year she was with the wolves, she didn't speak aloud hardly at all. When she passed Lula's training and made her way to Camp Jupiter, that proved to be a nearly fatal error.

It would have been a lot nicer if she had maybe had a cup of hot tea to sooth her unused vocal cords before she made the journey. After what felt like eternity and a half she managed to find the Caldecott tunnel, which was what she felt using her wolfish instincts was the entrance to the tunnel. She was almost to the tunnel when she was saw a large dog, as large as a small car, trying to stalk the sentries. She yelled, but her voice was hoarse and quiet. It didn’t make enough noise to get the attention of the two sentries.  What was she suppose to do? Something stupid. Something very, very stupid.

For the record, no, rocks are not efficient weapons against your average seething hellhound. All it does is annoy them, and bring their attention to you. This is what Leandra had hoped would happen, before she realized she had no other weapons and she was much slower than even a hellhound pup, much less a fully grown one. The resulting attack from the hellhound still gives Leandra nightmares. She spent four days in the infirmary afterwards as she healed from several claw marks, a concussion, and half a dozen broken ribs.

A fellow member of her Cohort told her that the sentries managed to attack the hellhound as it started to claw into her. The monster landed on her, knocking her into ground and partially crushing her, before it turned it's attention back to the other Romans. The beast was killed shortly by the sentries who had managed to figure out something was happening about the same time that the giant creature had landed on Leandra. Leandra was carried inside and treated, an Auger giving his blessing before she even woke up. It was a long recovery for her, at least as far as she was concerned. Being injured sucks more than being sick.

When she was finally able to stand, Leandra was placed in the Third Cohort. She had not been claimed by her immortal mother, and was a very small probatio. The kid caught all the hell you can imagine. She felt as if she couldn't do anything right. Certainly looked stupid in armor, the Romans did not carry XXXS armor. Most people assumed she was a child of Venus. This lasted for months, where she was outshone in everything she did by Tiberia Scipio, a probatio who was a few years older, and a legacy of Neptune. Seriously, it was embarrassing.

So Tiberia and Leandra were not great friends for several months. Leandra hated being outdone in everything, and Tiberia swore she knew everything, because her family had been in New Rome for centuries. Of course, the fact is Tiberia did know a lot more about New Rome than Leandra did. And also a better soldier. Also, there was the whole fact that Tiberia saved Leandra’s life. Okay, that’s actually the part where Leandra ended up becoming friends with Tiberia. It’s hard to hate someone who saves you from drowning in the Little Tiber when you’re pinned by a ornery white demon unicorn named Gaius. Tiberia at least was promoted from probatio, though Leandra wasn’t.

There's always been a nagging doubt in Leandra's mind on whether or not she would have been claimed by now, if it weren't for War Games. Not all War Games are created equally, and while most are predictable, not all are. Leandra was suppose to be a scout, get information and get out, report to the Centurion. She was the smallest, and the quietest. Sometimes things go wrong, sometimes people go wrong. So when Leandra scouted to find a different Cohort's legionnaire having fallen in a trap and bleeding profusely from an open femur fracture, she couldn't take it. She couldn't bear to see the other person in pain, and fear, so much fear and terror. There was a wrenching feeling in her gut as she tried to splint the fracture, and staunch the bleeding. The wrenching feeling was nothing compared to the terror and anxiety she now felt. It was hard to describe the feeling, like it wasn't her own, because it wasn't.

The use of her power and the distraction of pain left her drained, but she was able to stabilize her fellow Legionnaire before a giant eagle came to take him to the healers. She was fatigued for the the rest of the War Games, where she tried to stay out of the way and do as little as possible. She was quickly taken out by an opposing cohort’s water canon which slammed her into a wall and knocked her unconscious, and she was taken off the field herself by a flying eagle named Julius.

The next day, she was claimed by Angerona. It was strange being the daughter of a minor goddess, but having a name to put to her godly side made sense. It answered so many questions about her. She was also given training as a healer, with the kids and legacies of Apollo, though her biggest gift drained her fast. At that point, she became obsessed with learning about the art of medicine. Unfortunately, a lot of medicine required prescriptions, so she focused mainly on pre-modern and survivalist medicine. Over the years she has become fairly adept at it, being one of the few people who doesn’t need magical abilities to heal someone.

It was one full year without any spectacular acts of valor, and Leandra made her full status as a Legionnaire. She has been in the Legion for six years and has six lines on her tattoo. She has specialized more on the healer side, becoming the most well known healer for the third cohort, rather than the scout, though she keeps her scout training up to date.

Leandra is a practiced and hardened veteran of many battles, including the war against the Titans, and the war against Gaea. She fought in the battle for Mount Othros, the Battle for Camp Jupiter and the Battle for Camp Half-Blood. She was wounded in the first battle, and in the final battle. Despite having intended to help destroy the Greeks, she was healed from the final battle by a Greek child of Apollo. And she doesn’t like to mention that to anyone, because it’s kind of embarrassing, having been on the wrong side.

Outside of the battles, Leandra has lately been having worse issues with post-traumatic-stress symptoms. She’s starting to realize that all of these battles are taking a heavy toll on her, and she’s not very comfortable with that. Or maybe it’s also the hormones, because she’s smack dab in the middle of puberty, with growing breasts and an infatuation with men’s buttocks.


RP Example*:

When light started to shine through the window of the barracks, Leandra was already awake. Reville had not been called, but the small Roman demigod hadn’t slept well. She really needed to find a way to silence the snoring of one of her cohort-mates. It was horrible. She stood up and stretched, throwing Tiny Toby back onto her bed. Then she padded down to the bathroom and brushed her teeth, counting out how many strokes on each side and on her tongue. It was down to a ritual almost.

Bleary-eyed, the girl showered, which helped her feel a little more rejuvenated. The hot water relaxed her as she worked a moisturizer through her dark kinky hair and washed herself. Once out of the shower, she dried off and dressed in her purple camp t-shirt and a pair of demin pants. Were her bra and shirt getting tighter? She felt her t-shirt, looking as it stretched just a little more than it had. Great. She was going to have to see about getting a larger shirt. At least her pants still fit her properly after getting new ones a few months earlier.

Leandra then got to work on her hair. First running a conditioner through it from the scalp all the way to moisturizing the ends. Then she gently combed it with a wide toothed comb, focusing on keeping it as detangled as possible. With all the time she spent wearing a helmet, it was a pain to get everything right and have it look horrible by evening formation. Seriously, she was starting to think she spent half her paycheck on moisturizer for her hair. That and it took her twenty to thirty minutes to get her hair ready and five minutes to get showered and put deodorant on.

As she focused on her hair, she thought about the dreams that had kept her awake. The hellhound. Tonight it had been accompanied by the fierce fight to take Mount Othrys. The stream of raging telkines and dracanae that she had faced. The looks of those she knew were dying as she took on some of their fear and despair. The memory of that fear amped up in her still didn’t match the initial fear she felt of the hellhound, but many things she did in the Legion came close. She was a little under two months away from turning 15, and she had seen more things than your average 20 year armed forces veteran would. It was a wonder she ever slept at all.

Sighing, Leandra pulled herself out of her thoughts, or perhaps it was the sound of one of the stalls flushing that did it. How long had she been staring off into space? She wasn’t sure. People were now starting to get up and move around, which was good. It would give her something to distract herself with. The girl sighed again and finished up with her hair, putting a towel around it to help it dry as she headed into the main barracks again. Yeah, people were up and moving around. Noise was being made as people shouted at each other and joked. Too many natural morning people. That was disgusting. How could people be morning people?

The veteran walked to her bunk and moved Toby out of the way as she started to make it. Her hands flew across the bed with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times. Straighten, fold, smooth, tuck, fold, smooth, tuck, fold, smooth, tuck. Place pillow. Add the dust cover. She pulled a denarii from her foot locker and threw it onto the bed, watching it bounce twice before putting it back in the locker. Then she placed Toby squarely on the pillow. Regulations be as they were, she wasn’t going to leave Toby in the footlocker all day. That was just rude.

Finishing up with that, she grabbed her socks and shoes. She gave the shoes a once-over to make sure that everything was clean and tidy. Combat boots. Today was a regular day, nothing ceremonial, so she was going to wear her rough-outs. They kinda looked rough, and to be honest, they were getting a little small on her. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to end up having to get new boots, and that was a chore. Last time she had to special order them from a company because “We don’t make child sized combat boots.” For some reason black polish ones weren’t as difficult to find, and she had two pairs of those which she used one for kicking around in, and one shined so brightly one could shave using them as a mirror.

She put her shoes on, lacing them up as she listened to people talking in the background. No one had said hi to her yet, but after years of living with them, they all knew she wasn’t really a morning person and didn’t like to speak until after morning muster. It was just a time where she needed to be quiet. She would prefer having silence, but being quiet worked too. Maybe that was a trait of Angerona that she inherited, but she also remembered her father being quiet for long periods of time in the mornings before his coffee.

She finished lacing her boots and stood up, going back to her footlocker. Inside, her backpack rested snugly on the top, beside a stash of RC colas and a moonpies. She grabbed the backpack and closed the footlocker, locking it back. Leandra let her hands glide over the backpack for a second. The only concrete proof she had that Angerona cared about her at all. It was actually proof that she listened to her prayers, and random mutterings at her mother’s shrine. She still resented a lot of things about Angerona, but now she was torn on that issue. It was a lot easier to hate someone that seemed uncaring and distant, that never showed any affection. It was much more difficult to despise someone and resent them when they have made an effort. It wasn’t a visit, she didn’t get to talk with her mother, but that wasn’t the Roman way. Gods didn’t visit Romans. It was the best she was going to get as a Roman, and she knew it. It was in that so hard to resent her for the horrible powers she had been given.

Leandra focused on the contents of the backpack now, reaching her hand in and pulling out the shin greaves. They weren’t quite polished even, a mistake from when she had told Tiberia about her crush on Romulus. She had been so focused on telling her best friend about how she had a crush on Mr. Unobtainable that she had kept polishing the same one until it shined much more than the other. She strapped them on, so far the only one who ever commented on it was Tibby giving her a friendly rousing over it. Then there was her belt, which helped carry her scrotum, pugio and other things. Her lorica squamata armor was next, jangling as she pulled it on. While it wasn’t the best armor for a scout, given the noise, it was more than suitable as a healer, and it was the smallest they had. It weighed her down, though, and she groaned slightly. It was always hard to get used to it first thing in the morning.

She pulled on her manica, then pulled the scutum out of her bag and groaned. Great. It weighed enough to make her feel like there was a second her with the rest of her armor. A little while and she’d be okay with it. Or at least used to it again. Finally, she pulled out her helmet and gladius, setting them on the bed. She flipped the backpack onto her back and slipped her gladius onto her belt. Then she picked up her helmet, and old gallic g and put it under her arm. She was ready for her day now. Especially since she had an early shift of guard duty at the Caldecott tunnel entrance.

The girl looked herself over, straightening her armor a little. She was only missing one thing, but she wasn’t going to use it today. Not for guard duty. Her “jump bag”, which contained all of the things she needed as a healer. A few bandages, a few ABDs, some gauze wrap, some coban, a couple of SAM splints, a pocket knife, some nectar, some unicorn draught, some vodka. Was she missing anything? Oh yes, over the counter medications to be given to anyone in need. That was going to stay here in the barracks until she was at least done with guard duty. By then she hoped to be able to come back and change clothes, because ever since she started puberty she seemed to sweat profusely under the armor. Especially under her breasts. Whoever designed the armor was obviously not thinking of women when they did it. Of course, why would they think of women? And small women at that? The people who designed the armor lived thousands of years ago. And Rome? It was thousands of years of tradition completely unhampered by technology or advancement. At least they didn’t decimate cohorts anymore.

Picking up her scutum one more time, Leandra headed out of the door of the barracks, on to face the day and whatever may come. First she was going to eat a giant breakfast, and for some reason she had a craving for rare meat.



Any notes about your characters:

The symbol on her tattoo is lips with a finger against them to indicate silence. She is currently in the 3rd Cohort.

WORD COUNT 8031

Approved Until Stated Otherwise

Awarded 3,000 drachmas