"Be what it is my destiny to be, the savior and the strength of suffering man."  ~Percy Shelly, Prometheus Unbound

Name:  William Peters
Nickname: Will
Age: 25
Weight: 180
Height: 5’10”
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Distinguishing Marks:  Will has a fresh scar along the lower right edge of his ribs and a burn in the palm of his right hand in the shape of a single link of chain.

Physical Description: Will is not the most intimidating figure coming in a good inch or two under 6 feet but what he lacks in height he makes up for in lean mass born of dedication to the virtues, including ἄσκησις, asceticism, and physical training.  His hair is dark and curled, falling to his shoulders and often to one side.  His eyes are dark and soft, observant and aware.  His smile is hard to hold on his lips for long but is frequent enough not to seem caged or reserved and when it plays it plays across his face, into his cheeks, and into his eyes.

He’s come to the island with only the clothes on his back, a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt and the chain in his hand.  He does have his wallet and passport in case he needs anything else to wear.

Lineage: Last Son of Prometheus.  The Children of Prometheus are not demi-gods, they are generations beyond their ‘grandfather’ Prometheus or the elder brothers Dorus, Xuthus, Aeolus.  To the best of his knowledge, William is the last child to be born to a Promethean, though Promethean reproduction is a complicated endeavor, so it may not be anything so dramatic.

INTROSPECTION

Personality:  William was unaware of what it meant to be descendent of Hellen growing up but was brought up in the ideals all the same.  Like many of his kin he was taught the virtues from an early age, none more consequential than εὐδαιμονία or eudaimonia, the welfare and flourishing of humanity and ᾰ̓ρετή or arete, the pursuit of excellence, potential and goodness in all things.  He was never a perfect example but took his lessons to heart, like he took his responsibilities as a Child of Prometheus once he was initiated into the mysteries.

He is sincere in his belief that humanity is worth serving and rejects the notion that they are meant to serve or sacrifice.  He believes in the Χάριτες, the Charities though he’s never been particularly good at calling them forth and sides more closely with Themis, the personification of fairness and natural law and Mnemosyne, the personification of memory and history.  Quiet and questioning, he’s less interested in telling his story than he is eliciting stories from others.  When good he believes those stories will help inspire others to good action, when bad, he believes exposing them may help them heal like bringing forth a Promethean’s wounds to the light of dawn.

Strengths:  He does not need to sleep (and in fact cannot sleep) and must periodically meditate to maintain a calm and focused mind.  Otherwise, he tends to be a slave to the primordial and personified rather than a servant.  Even without the gift of the chain, he’s empathetic, understanding and sensitive to emotions (or the lack thereof).  He takes a genuine interest in the lives of others and pays a lot of attention to things that are said (with words and actions).  To a lesser degree, he understands omens and signs but is no seer and only knows traditional interpretations.

Weaknesses:  When push comes to shove, William is effectively mortal, long-lived and enduring to be sure but not immortal in the same way as a demi-god might be.  He has no exceptional strength beyond his ability to lift the chain.  He is deeply drawn to the wishes of Gaia and easily swayed by those of her children, the primordial and personified deities.  He’s taken several vows, a vow of never piercing the flesh of a living thing (i.e. he won’t use edged or pointed weapons, is a vegetarian and doesn’t wear leather), he’s sworn not to “let evil pass” his lips, meaning he won’t say anything bad about someone and to never turn away from the suffering of others (though sometimes that means simply serving as a witness).

Fears:  That misery will make neither Titan nor Olympian wise.  That they will misunderstand his intentions.  That he will be unable to balance his duties of both aiding the resolution of the conflict but also reporting back to his kin so they can mitigate the consequences.  That his brothers and sisters will attempt to get directly involved rather than wait for word from him.

Hopes: To see balance restored to the world, ideally one in which neither Titan nor Olympian is bound.  To come to understand the Titans and Olympians better.  To tell their stories.  To not be the Last Promethean

TALENTS AND ABILITIES

Inherited Godly Powers:

ὑπομένω (hupomenó)  - Enduring, not immortal, the Children (who sometimes refer to themselves as Eudaemon) live exceptionally long lives and are exceptional difficult to kill.  The Children heal at dawn like their grandfather before them.  In the interim, though they may be pained, they will likely survive even the gravest wound though the severest of wounds may take several dawns to restore.  Some have been known to reattach severed limbs but cutting off their heads or piercing their hearts will likely result in an instant death.

το δώρο του φωτιά (The Gift of Fire) – Eternally tied to the gift of fire, most Children of Prometheus can will it to life.  While some can do so to a remarkable degree, William is capable of little more than warming a bed or bath, lighting a candle and making the flames dance.

Ἄλγεα αλυσίδα (Algea’s Chain) – William possesses the chain used to bind Prometheus to stone.  The chain is of indeterminate length, though currently about five feet.  Intensely heavy the chain can only be moved by a Child of Prometheus (or perhaps a Child of Hercules) and cannot be lifted (though William is somehow managing to carry it).  The chain is painful to touch bringing Ἄλγεα or pain in all its form, Λυπη (lupe or physical pain), Αχος (achos or grief) and Ανια (ania or sorrow).  The pain enhances his empathy and could theoretically be used to bind even an exceptionally strong Olympian or Titan, though that’s only a theory.  Its pain could be used against another to illicit truth but again only in theory, one which he would be unlikely to ever willingly try.

Basic Skills:

εὐσέβεια (eusebeia) – To some, eusebeia or piety is about how to worship the Gods, to others, it is simply understanding one’s relationship to them.  William is pious, he understands the Gods all play their part though he’s not sure they all remember that especially when they forget their responsibilities to their own domains.  That’s why he’s most closely in tune with the primordial forces and the personifications, who don’t require sacrifice or worship so much as recognition and respect.  This he gives more than he seeks reward.   In fact, he hasn’t yet asked for their reward, though he is following their word and listens for it with a keen ear.

καλὸς κἀγαθός (kalos kagathos) Once recognized the Children of Prometheus are given παιδεία, paideia, rearing and education in the καλὸς κἀγαθός ideal of all that is good, virtuous and beautiful.  This includes martial skill (boxing, wrestling, gymnastics, stick and chain), the liberal pursuits (philosophy and rhetoric) and the arts (poetry and music).  In the physical arts, William most excelled in gymnastics and wrestling.  In the liberal arts, he excelled most in philosophy and history.  In the arts, he excelled in music (specifically the piano) and poetry (its appreciation).

Professionally William has an eye for photography (though he lacks a camera at the moment), an ear for stories and a hand for writing them down.

THE JUICY BITS

Behold with sleepless eyes!
Regard this Earth of broken hearts and barren hope.
Sleep unsheltered.
We do not pity the slaves of Olympus.
But we should.
And pity the furies their pain unleashes.
We must have open eyes, sleep unsheltered.
Eyeless in Hate.
Tearless to see more clear.
Who shall it be?
Grandfather will decide.
Call the children.

~O~

Many of them longed for a chance to try the chain again.  There was no ranking among the Children of Prometheus and their initiation was a private matter, never to be spoken of even with brother or sister.  Still, most wondered how many links others had lifted, how long others had held the pain of their grandfather’s prison.

All mankind shares our breath and blood, the elders would be quick to point out to those who felt special for raising a few links off the stone.

He listened as his brothers and sisters chattered, imagining that their decades of experience had prepared them for another try, that they were somehow different from the 15-year-old they were when they first learned who they truly were.

“Are we finally to join the fight?” One would ask.
“We’re already in the fight,” another would reply.
“Let them destroy each other,” a third would suggest, all three mirroring their forefathers without even realizing it.

He was surprised that none of them mentioned the dream.

~O~

Are you coming?  You missed the lottery and Mother is asking about you.

I know.  I’ve gotten her messages.  I’m on my way.  Just had to finish something important.
Catching a redeye tonight.

More important than this?!?
It’s crazy here.  Elanor dislocated her shoulder and I thought the vein in Caleb’s forehead was going to burst!
I’m up tomorrow.  You need to be here.

I will be.  I promise.

~O~

He hadn’t slept and it was beginning to show in shadowed eyes.  Unlike the Pantheons, the Prometheans had no place of importance, they were κοσμοπολίτης, cosmopolitan, citizens of the world as Diogenes had put it.  They had offices in most of the major cities and capitals of the world, though they were gathering in New York, where they kept the stone.  It had come from the mountainside where their grandfather had been chained.  It was nothing like the portraits showed, no rough-hewn sides, a perfect slab, as flat as a sheet of ice and just as cold.  He’d seen it many times growing up and touched it once, recalling the searing pain, the skin of his fingertips burning blue with frost.  It was a great joke, he supposed, to make his grandfather suffer such cold as punishment for the gift of fire.  Like his brothers and sisters throughout the ages, he’d touched the chain as well.  It was draped over the stone like a necklace, almost delicate in appearance, certainly nothing that could hold a Titan, and yet hold him it had.  It was another great joke, that it was not bound to the stone but simply wrapped like a silk ribbon around a bedpost.

Zeus was cruel, that was for sure, though as the poem went, his grandfather was made reign and triumph to the scorn and his children likewise.

Pain is my element, as hate is thine.  Ye rend me now, I care not, the poet voiced Prometheus and again his children likewise.  That had been their third trial, to feel their grandfather’s pain, to feel a mortal’s pain, to give heart to the vow they themselves would take to never pierce flesh.  The scar was gone now where knife pierced liver when he’d let go of the chain.  It had healed swiftly as all their wounds did.  It was the proof of their heritage.  While all mankind shared their breath and blood, only the true Children of Prometheus still bore his curse, though ever the trickster, the ability to heal at dawn now a boon.

It would be dawn soon and his kin would wake to give their thanks to Hemera and her herald Eos.  Though they did not sacrifice to either Titan or Olympian, they had not forgotten either and had especially not forgotten the primordials who were above all.  For now, he gave respect to Erebus and Nyx, whose time it was and Ourea, whose stone called to him in the dark of night.

~O~

Anake and Moirai, Pontus and Thalassa, Nesoi.  They did not speak but he listened all the same.

His brothers and sisters would be furious.  His mother would be concerned.  The elders would be pleased.  He was wet and the chain felt heavy as he emerged from the sea.

Alignment: Mankind