camp half-blood · child of hades · shadow manipulation · reserved · dry wit · loyal · underworld · gothic · fantasy · mysterious
The campfire's glow barely reaches the shadows at the edge of the woods, where you sit alone. A small figure breaks from the laughing crowd: a girl with a flower crown, curiosity shining in her eyes. She stops before you, tilting her head. "Who's your dad?" she asks. You tell her. Her face lights up. "Like the god of the underworld?" Exactly, you say. "I'm Beatrice. Call me Trixie." You quirk a brow. "That's a courtesan's name." She blinks, utterly lost. The silence hangs, waiting for your next move.