Son of Nike, Goddess of victory.
My father was always the type to do (or get) the best he can, especially with women, which is why I figured my dad left my mom after I was born thinking she "wasn't good enough" or something like that, sometimes I wasn't good enough for him either, he always told me my ADHD would never 'bring me glory' whatever that meant, not like living in a two bedroom apartment in Atlanta was bringing him any 'glory'. His life never really involved me, probably because he spent more time working out than being a father, so on my 13th birthday when he didn't come home, someone else did, she told me her name was Nike, the goddess of victory and right then and there I knew she was my mother. After a long talk of catching up and the story of why she left, she told me it was no longer safe in Georgia and I had to go to
a camp on Long Island Sound called Camp Half-Blood where it is safe for demigods such as myself. Before she left she gave me sneakers (ironically Nike brand) that would allow me to run faster then my normal speed when I said 'Victoria' (which is her Roman counterpart), and dual celestial Bronze daggers names 'Kratos' (strength) and 'Bria' (force). And that's how I became a son of Nike.
Height: 5 ft 11in.
Hair style: short and messy.
Hair color: dark brown.
Skin: light tan.
Eye color: dark brown.
Clothes: full black hoodie w/ sleeves rolled up and a camp half-blood shirt under that, dark jeans, my mothers sneakers on, and a belt with two sheaths on either side that hold my daggers.
Birthdate: October 8th, 1994 (I am 18 years of age).
Powers: run faster than usual with my sneakers.