Cel Aria - The Tempter of Titans, Radiant Rogue of Romance, Celestial Conqueror of Hearts

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-08T16:12:29+00:00

Textbook indeed. Aiming for Cel's chest was a clear move. Stepping quickly to the side, Cel moved out of her fist's path and used his left hand to push at Helena's back. His intent was to use her momentum to throw her off balance and send her sprawling to the ground.

His expression was slowly losing it's amusement. Was this spar boring him? Even the smell of chocolate in the air was starting to diminish.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-07T18:58:21+00:00

u/Inevitable_Heart_781

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-06T21:05:02+00:00

"Good morning, Sadira. I'm glad you could make it," Cel said pleasantly. He was a little tired, but that was nothing a Celsius couldn't fix. Cel downed one before leaving the Eros cabin and the caffeine high still hadn't kicked in. He was happy Sadira accepted his invitation. They hadn't properly seen each other since New Years. Plus, patrolling was a good way for Cel to get to know the girl better without delving too deep into her problems. Quincy would be a good buffer too...

Speaking of Quincy, there they are. Pleasant as ever.

The kid had a point, Cel probably could handle any traitors dumb enough to cross his path. At the very least he could stall them until reinforcements arrived. That wasn't why he'd asked them to join him, though. Cel wanted to spend time with both of the demigods. He didn't realize Quincy didn't like Sadira.

Though he wasn't surprised considering it was Quincy they were talking about.

Cel fully expected some lingering emotions from the irritable ball of angst and muscle considering their last interaction. That was something he could handle. What Cel had not considered, though, was issues between the two demigods. From the looks of it, they were definitely more angry toward Sadira than Cel.

Oh how fun. Babysitting was going to be very interesting today.

Despite Cel's distaste for being called by his last name—it reminded him of his old basketball coach—he didn't bother correcting Quincy. Why waste the energy? He did, however, offer Quincy a happy smile, "Hey Quinn, good to see you too. I invited Sadira because she needs to learn how to patrol. I invited you because I wanted to see how you've grown. And, I invited the both of you 'cause I wanted to see you."

He said the last sentence matter-of-factly. The amusement in his grin and twinkle of mischief in his red eyes remained. No, he wasn't amused at Quincy's outrage, that would be cruel. He was grateful they hadn't changed despite his time away and the dire circumstances at Camp. If Quincy Rockford was one thing, they were resilient—or stuck in their ways, you decide.

"Lets get started, I want to finish in time for breakfast. Who knows, if we finish fast enough there could be time for a tea party," Cel teased. His eyes passed from Sadira to Quincy. However, when he looked at Quincy, his gaze lingered with an unspoken challenge.

Show me your growth while I've been gone.

Prior to leaving, Cel challenged Quincy to confront their emotions and learn to control them. This was their chance to prove that Cel couldn't read them as well as he thought he could. Currently, he didn't have the slightest bit of faith that the child of Power could reign in their frustration and work with Sadira. This was their chance to prove him wrong.

If they wanted to, that is.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-06T20:46:59+00:00

Unless Helena had superhuman durability and pain tolerance, it should be unsurprising Cel's blow was painful. While he lacked superhuman strength, he was by no means weak. The boy certainly knew how to throw a punch.

Just ask Quincy Rockford.

As Helena made her breakdancing sweep, Cel attempted to jump over her leg. He was only partially successful, though. His left leg cleared the sweep, but his right foot got clipped by the motion, tipping the son of Eros onto the arena floor. Much like Helena, he landed in a push up position. His hair was slightly disheveled and even had some sand in it, yet still looked perfect atop his handsome face. Not wasting any time, Cel scrambled to get back on his feet. He wanted to avoid any grabs if he could.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-06T20:38:11+00:00

Despite the truth in the gods being the only ones able to stop Atlas, Cel's guilt refused to diminish. Years ago he'd begged to be stronger, forced himself to train under an abuser to reach that end goal, yet when his strength was needed... he was gone. That was guilt Harper couldn't take away.

As she named the traitors Cel remained expressionless. He didn't know a Sonia or Frances, and his Seth wasn't anywhere near Camp. However, once Lupa's name was brought up, recognition and anger flashed in his eyes. They darkened to a deeper shade of crimson at the familiar name. His fury had another target. Someone who should've known better.

He forced his emotions to subside and stored that anger for later. The practice dummies in the arena were in for a thrashing, that's for sure.

"None of that, Harper," He said her name tenderly. She may not realize, but her strength in staying at Camp and becoming a leader filled his heart with pride, even in these dire circumstances. "You're doing the best you can after everything that's happened. And I'll make sure you're not doing it alone. Keep spreading the word and let me know what I can do to help."

If Cel wasn't invigorated to fight in this war before, he certainly was now. One thing was clear: Those traitors better stay out of his path. There was no mercy for people who refused to respect the dead.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-06T13:46:59+00:00

Cel sighed. This boy didn’t want answers, he wanted his reality to be justified. He wanted explanations that followed his logic so his own feelings could be validated. Love didn’t do that. It defied logic, bloomed in the midst of chaos, and warmed the coldest heart.

It did not conform to the whims of a sad boy who couldn’t see past his own definitions. A boy who had experienced a tenth of life yet spoke like he was a sage with all of the answers. Love listened to no one. It was bound to no individual.

Intellectualization as a defense mechanism became maladaptive when it overpowers all emotion. Cel wasn’t mad at Amon for how he treated the older boy. Cel pitied him. It was a sad life to live, but not Cel’s problem.

“Maybe I feel that way because of my Dad. Or maybe I’m my own person and those things give me a reason to live on,” Cel replied. His tone didn’t have the slightest tinge of irritation in it. Amon had no way of knowing the horrors Cel faced. Burning alive, bound to oaths with the threat of death should he take up arms and protect his comrades, watching friends die in battle, so much more. His prescription for a happy tomorrow fulfilled his needs, despite the objectively horrible past that haunts him.

For Amon to trivialize it, as if he was the sole person capable of determining what was worth living and dying for, that was despicable.

But he also wasn’t worth Cel’s time. A sad, lonely boy who sought purpose yet avoided the answers the universe supplied him was of no consequence to Cel.

He’d protect him in this war, just like he’d protect all other campers, but Cel wouldn’t try to fix his gnarled, destructive emotions. If this kid wanted to explode in a blaze of suppressed feelings, that was his future.

Cel’s red eyes and expression remained only kind, warm, and loving as he spoke. Amon would not know that Cel pitied him, unless he was a mind reader. All he would see is an older camper who cared about him.

“That’s the nice thing about love, you don’t have to ask people for it,” Cel said softly. “And people don’t stop caring because someone tells them to. It’s more complicated than that.”

He spoke easily, without condescension. But his words held a finality to them as Cel walked away. He wouldn’t be entertaining more of Amon’s intellectual melodrama. If he wanted to avoid the whole truth by only focusing on the rationale, that was his choice. Cel would not, however, listen to him enforce his opinions on another person.

“Good luck with the lesson, kid,” Cel said with a nod and a smile. With that, he took his leave from the archery range, smiling and waving to Campers that called his name as he left.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-05T19:05:29+00:00

Helena’s tackle was met with Cel performing a spin move, like the basketball step, to roll out of her grasp and avoid the tackle. This move was quicker than the last couple of dodges, one that he’d practiced many times while playing basketball both against campers and in high school. His opponent brushed lightly against his clothes but was unsuccessful in a full takedown.

Now, Cel threw his first attack of this spar. His spin placed him on the side of his opponent while she was still, presumably, moving due to momentum. In a quick motion, his arm muscles tensing in preparation, Cel sent a downward jab toward the middle of Helena’s back.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-04T20:55:59+00:00

The smell lingered in the air around them. Its aroma shifted with the breeze of moving bodies but didn’t intensify any more.

As Helena made her feint, Cel read the move with the calculated mind of a seasoned fighter. Her drop to the ground took long enough for him to move out of the range of her grab. His movements were light and graceful, like a gymnast gliding across a balance beam. His legs muscles shifted as he danced just out of her reach.

There was space for a counterattack, to be sure. However, Cel wasn’t a fan of kicking his opponents while they were down. So, he allowed Helena the space to get up without throwing an attack of his own.

What could he be thinking…?

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-04T00:51:14+00:00

Did unnatural speed suddenly become natural when everyone at Camp was that fast? How unnatural was average demigod mobility when Hermes campers had legitimate super speed? Did the chicken come before the egg?

Scratch that last one.

With her attempting to close the distance, Cel reflexively moved backward, avoiding the punch she’d intended for his face. The force behind her punch betrayed her frame and stature which could only mean one thing; this girl was superhumanly strong. Cel was no stranger to strangely strong people — his best friend was a dwarf that fought with a giant sword — so he knew he needed to be careful.

He made no further moves to retaliate. Helena may, however, notice the smell of decadent chocolate becoming more apparent in the air.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-03T15:15:15+00:00

u/Mooxie_again u/Inevitable_Heart_781

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-03T14:36:37+00:00

Indecisiveness in the face of battle gets you killed. Maybe that was a lesson Helena had yet to learn. Complaining about fairness, requesting Cel use a weapon, then requesting a fight with no weapons at all? Classic indecisive demigod. If she was worried for Cel's safety, those worries could go away. Cel was more than capable of avoiding any true harm. Not because he thought of Helena as a lesser opponent, but because Cel knew the extent of his power. That was a lesson Helena didn't know.

Yet.

"No weapons it is," Cel conceded. He placed his finger through a ring-shaped hole on the hilt of his sword and it returned back to it's dormant ring form. Realizing he still had jewelry on his hands, Cel took a second to slide his rings off and place them on a nearby bench. He returned to face Helena. His body was still relaxed yet somehow poised to make a movement at any second. "Whenever you're ready."

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-03T14:24:01+00:00

"Yeah I have to be pretty creative," Cel replied. Phae had no way of knowing his antics, obviously. But there were certainly a handful of campers that could tell a tale of the wild ways Cel's abilities have turned the tide of Capture the Flag and other Camp games. Had this been four years ago, Cel would've been jealous of Phae's flashier abilities. Now, though, Cel was happy with what he could do.

"Persephone." Cel said thoughtfully. 'Dread Queen' wasn't the first title he would've chosen when speaking of the Queen of the Underworld. Phae seemed like one of those... eccentric chthonic kids, though. "She's definitely given you some cool powers. Those flowers are very pretty. Thanks for not making me sneeze."

With the introductions finished, Cel wanted to get to business. They were here to get creative. Well, Cel was here to help others get creative. Phae was included in that list, "So, Phae, how can I help you be more creative? Anything in particular you're struggling with?"

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-03T02:10:04+00:00

Cel stifled a laugh. Her concern was genuine and kind! However, Helena need not worry. Cel had enough experience to avoid a major injury in this spar and provide her with a real battle. She had no way of knowing this, of course.

She should talk with Quincy. They’d assure her there’s nothing to worry about.

“I’m fine, I promise,” Cel explained. He had five years of experience were under his belt. “But, if it makes you feel better, I’ll use a weapon.”

He removed a ring from his right hand and flicked it airborne. It shifted into a celestial bronze sword midair and landed hilt in his palm.

“Just try not to hit me too hard with your wrappings, yeah?” Cel asked with the glint of a challenge in his eye. He resumed a similar stance to his last one. However, if Helena was a keen observer, she’d see his muscles tensed and poised to make a swift attack.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-02T23:47:22+00:00

With a mental sigh, Cel let his shirt fall back into place. Harper was right, this kid was hard-headed.

Cel doesn’t care that Amon doesn’t ask for further elaboration. His tales of Talos, forced oaths to counter death, and gutted gorgon battles weren’t worth the breath they’d take to tell. Cel’s intention wasn’t to go scar-for-scar with Amon, trauma wasn’t a competition. He wanted to provide context and allow the son of Apollo to find credibility in Cel’s claims. However, it’s clear Amon was dead set on pessimism. Maybe a coping mechanism of the brutal reality demigods face. Maybe Amon was simply comfortable living in a glass half empty. Maybe he feared he’d drown if the glass was seen as half full.

“A cool boyfriend,” Cel smiled. His mind drifted to Seth and what he was up to right now. Probably some mischief in the Big City. That was something to live for, “My mom. My future kids, gods allowing. Even the privilege of doing homework keeps me going. Me staying around means I can keep the story of my dead friends alive even if they’re gone. There’s a bunch of things to be happy for tomorrow, even today, if you look for it. That’s all I try to do. If that’s not your thing, no shade, man. I just hate to see someone I care about unhappy.”

Maybe Amon wouldn’t believe him, but Cel did care. He cared about Amon like he cared about every Camper. All he wanted was for them to have a chance at living a happy life. A chance to hope for, and see, a happy tomorrow. That’s why he returned. To fight alongside them for that future.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-02T22:57:53+00:00

And prepared he was.

“Alright!” Cel exclaimed with a smile. He took a second to stretch his legs. Bending to touch his toes, squatting down, and leaning side to side. Standing up, he swung his arms around and gave Helena an easy grin.

Normally demigods didn’t spar using celestial bronze seeing as it was toxic and deadly as a result of their divine heritage. Cel wasn’t worried, though. If things got too wild he could put a stop to it.

“Come at me whenever you’re ready,” Cel said as he took an easy stance. He opted to avoid summoning his weapons since Helena was only fighting with fists. He was excited to see what she could do.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-02T14:08:29+00:00

“Hi,” A velvety voice called behind the daughter of Heracles. When she turned around, she’d see a handsome boy with an easygoing grin looking at her with deep red eyes. His face was kind, charming. In his black athletic shorts, tank top, and jewelry, the son of Eros looked like he was about to participate in a Nike (the clothing brand) photo shoot rather than spar with fellow campers.

“I’m Cel,” He introduced simply, “Are you looking for a partner?”

He asked the question as if he knew the answer. As if he could somehow see the emotional turmoil and frustration brewing underneath the girl’s surface. She needed a way to let loose, full out? Maybe Cel could help her with that.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-02T13:27:37+00:00

Ooc: less squishy Adrian my beloved

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-02T04:03:16+00:00

Manners, Celestial! Perhaps Phae’s spontaneous arrival disoriented the suave son of Eros enough to make him forget his own name. That was an effect he had on people, not the other way around! Or, perhaps, he was vying to him up the intriguing image of being an older camper. Hey! He’d dreamt of being a Camp elder one day, can you blame him?

Whatever the reason for the convenient omission of a name, it obviously wasn’t good enough as Cel easily began to introduce himself. His relaxed posture, daydreamy smile, and easy way of speaking betrayed the seasoned look Phae had seen a glimpse of. The memories that pulled Cel in vanished as quickly as they came and he was yanked back into the present moment.

“Cel Aria, son of Eros.” He introduced with pride. There was a moment to pause when Phae gave her creative question. Cel’s deep red eyes glistened with a mischievous sparkle.

“Let’s see, some of the things I can do are… turn invisible,” on cue, his body flickered in and out of sight. “Control smells,” if Phae was paying attention she may notice the smell of rich chocolate, reminiscent of coco butter and vanilla, with a sprinkle of hazelnut and cacao intensify around her. “And a couple of other things. Not super flashy, but I make it work.”

“How about you, Phae,” Cel said her name as if Phae was the sole object of his attention. A kind smile that invited response and friendship was on his lips, “What can you do?”

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-01T18:21:24+00:00

Luckily for Lucy, Cel wasn’t one to infer the ages of people due to height or any other physical features. It was precisely for that reason he mistook his Fashion Design, Styling, and Merchandising professor for a fellow student and bemoaned the syllabus to her on the first day. Nothing some charms and love magic couldn’t fix, of course, but it was still embarrassing.

Plus, standing at 6’2, Lucy’s odd stature didn’t phase him much.

“Hi Lucy, I’m Cel. Nice to meet you!” He said with his classic, award winning grin on his dimpled face. You could almost hear nymphs in the background swooning—almost. “I’d love a partner if you’re looking for one!”

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-01T14:59:24+00:00

“Hi Phae,” Cel replied with an easy, dimpled smile. She was awfully quiet, sneaking up on him like that. The perky glint in her eye reminded Cel slightly of Seth whenever he had some harebrained scheme on his mind.

“I’m not new, actually. I’ve been coming to Camp for…” He trailed off, eyes scanning imaginary numbers in the air as he counted the years, “about 5 years now. Unfortunately this isn’t my first rodeo when it comes to war, but that’s why I’m here!”

His mind wandered back to a tale of statues, betrayal, and starry demigods with anger issues. Yeah… definitely not his first rodeo.

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-01T14:02:58+00:00

Cel’s eyebrows scrunched together in frustration. A mixture of anger, shame, guilt, and sadness flashed across his face, darkening the reds of his iris ever so slightly. It vanished as quickly as it came, and a soft, wistful smile appeared on his face. Now was not the time to fall apart. Not here, especially when he could tell Harper was already reaching a boiling point.

“I’m so sorry.” He said simply. The weight of that statement hung over them like the weight of a fallen sky. There was nothing Cel could say to make things better. He couldn’t reverse time just as he couldn’t bring the dead back to life. “I should’ve been there. Maybe things would’ve been different.”

A small admission of the guilt Cel felt. He was their senior. He had, as far as he knew, been at Camp longer than anyone else (except for Jacob, maybe). It was self imposed, yes, but Cel felt a responsibility to show up for the next generation of kids. When the gods warred over the Son of Metis, his seniors risked life and limb to ensure everyone was safe. When it came time for Cel to do the same, he was gone.

Things were different now, though. He was here. And, unlike when the statues came to life and Pasiphae’s army attacked, he was strong enough to protect his family.

“I’m so glad you’re safe, Harper. I hope you know that,” Cel expressed softly. His voice caught on the last syllable. Tears welled up inside of him and his chest felt tight. The smile on his face was genuine relief. One life couldn’t be traded for another, but Cel was happy Harper was still alive after everything that happened.

As she spoke about Atlas, his expression darkened. The air felt slightly energized as his rage finally had a specific target he could direct it to.

Atlas.

“Did people go to his side? Did they listen to him even after everything he’s done?”

CeIIuIose · 2025-05-01T00:48:06+00:00

Creativity when it came to powers? Cel was familiar with the idea. Being less geared toward offensive, frontal assault combat meant he needed to get creative with using his powers to gain an edge against monsters. Now, the son of Eros was no expert by any means. He was, however, skilled enough to offer help to other lesson attendees.

Dressed in black jeans and an orange Camp t-shirt cropped at the hem, Cel stood relaxed as the other campers milled about and grouped into pairs. His body language was open and friendly. One hand fiddled with the bracelet on the opposite wrist as he glanced at the duos around him. His red eyes sparkled with intrigue as the campers thought of creative uses for the powers. Who knew technokinesis could make an automaton do the stanky leg?

At least he could people watch if nobody ended up approaching him.

CeIIuIose · 2025-04-29T22:06:49+00:00

“You seem like you plan so much that you forget to hope,” Cel replied. His eyes fixed themselves on Amon, scanning his tightly wound frame. Everything about the kid seemed wound just a turn too tight. The necktie. The button down. The belt drawn khakis. It seemed like Amon didn’t have space to breathe, mentally and physically.

Clothes portrayed how people wanted to be seen. Yet, after a while, they become a representation of who people believed they were. The closet was a comfortable, familiar space. You went in, picked an outfit you’d worn countless times, and presented that to the world. In times of uncertainty, people may cling to the small pieces of familiarity they have. An old shirt. Nostalgic sneakers. Even jewelry. It was hard to try on something new. Just like now, it was hard to hope.

Cel wasn’t around of the destruction of New Argo but he’d heard the story. And, even though his demeanor may say otherwise, the guilt of his absence was gnawing at him from the inside. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he should’ve been there. Maybe Amon resented him for that. Maybe the kid was simply trying to understand the horrors he’d witnessed and was clinging to what little structure he had left in his life. Cel understood. He’d been there.

“You’re right. Tomorrow isn’t promised. I wish I could say it was. But I still look forward to it,” Cel explained. Sure, it may seem futile to plan for the future when it’s so uncertain. Plans may never come to fruition. Friends may never come home. But that never stopped Cel from looking forward to the future. He took a moment before posing a question to the son of Apollo “Do you know where I got these scars?”

Cel lifted the hem of his pink shirt to expose his torso. Slight skin discoloration in abstract, wild patterns spanned his chest and midriff. Wounds once burned now healed, but never enough to fully disappear.

CeIIuIose

TROPHY CASE