Ninja's little *cough*evil*cough* friends.

Everett Loki Kanate
Age:
16
Gender:
Male
Sexuality:
bisexual
Birthday:
16 / 09
Country of Origin:
America
God Parent:
Apollo
Mortal Family:
"Who knows? 'Cause I sure don't."
Biography:
When Everett was claimed at the age of fourteen, he was lying alone in one of the backstreets of New York, the place where he had spent the last five years of his life fighting to get to, completely stoned out of his mind. The only thing making him recognisable as alive was the steady heave of his skinny ribs as they struggled to fill with enough air to sustain the life of the young boy. As he lay there on the stony ground, he thought to himself How the hell did I get here? I used to have a family, friends, meat on my bones and on my plate... What the hell happened? And then he remembered. He remembered everything...
Born in Berlin, Germany on the nineteenth of May, Everett was the second child of Karen Kirf and her husband of two years Vladimir. Their first child was only four minutes old at the time, Everett's almost identical twin brother Gratian. Both of the children looked nothing like either of their parents, but that was because only one of them was their parent- they were demi-gods, children of Apollo. Surprisingly, Vladimir stuck with Karen all through her pregnancy with the twins, even though they were concieved through an affair. And so, for the next eight years things went smoothly. Both Everett and Gratian were well-loved boys, although Gratian was a bit of an attention hog, and both of them were kind boys too, always helping out when they could, being exceptionally kind to whoever they met. But then things changed. Everett's mental set changed. He was no longer the confident boy he had been for most of his life, no longer willing to pull out his guitar and play in front of their parents friends. Instead, he kept himself to himself, becoming the shadow of Gratian and all of his doings. There was one reason for this occurance. Gratian - power-obsessed Gratian - had been shattering Oscar's mindframe piece by piece for several years by the slow process of both physical, verbal and emotional abuse. At first, Oscar thought he was joking, just being an annoying big brother. But then... Then Everett started to take these things to heart. He started to find fault with everything from the way he looked to the way he played his guitar. It took Everett two years to realise he had a problem, and by then it was too late. He had already stopped eating as much, cutting down his food portions by too much, and hadn't touched his pride and joy (his guitar) for months. He couldn't bear telling his parents what was wrong. He couldn't bear to spread the tale of his suffering. So he sorted it out himself the only way he knew how to. He ran away. After his parents had announced that the holiday of 2004 would be a visit to America to go see Aunt Therrissé, Everett knew that this was his chance. When they reached the busy airport they had travelled to in America, Everett took his chance and gave them all the slip, escaping at the mere age of 10. A young boy of that age left in the big city is not expected to survive, but Everett defeated the odds, even if by the age of thirteen he was not only a mentally troubled young boy, but a drug addict too. There was one thing that Everett refused to become, and that was an alchoholic, refusing every single drink offered. Eventually, he had given up on this lifestyle. And that's where he was now. Lying down in the backstreets of New York, stoned out of his mind, and struggling to breathe. Now was 2009, and after waking up from the sick-stained nightmare that he had been living in for the past four years, he slung his old guitar onto his back (the only reminder of his old home), stuffed a few spliffs into his pocket (which were never to be smoked) and walked out of the dingy bedsit he had called home for far too long. It took him two more years to figure out what to do next, when he was found by a satyr whom led him to Camp Half-Blood. Fast forward a few fights and years later, and you're slap bang where you are now.

Appearance:
Everett has large green eyes, always looking out for someone who can mug him, as he was tought to on the streets. He might have no possesions, but the few he had needed to be guarded with his heart and soul. His face is pale with sharp points where the bones meet, as he does not often desire the luxury that is food. In fact, the rest of his body is the same, with bones jutting out all over the place. Not liking to admit to being a part of Camp Half-Blood, he usually dresses himself in the only clothes he owns; a plain black t-shirt, black jeans and black plimsoles.

Personality:
Everett is an extremely quiet boy, not liking to talk to many people. He is most happy when surrounded by only a couple of close friends, even though he has none. Not many people want to be friends with the ex-druggie. Even if he isn't that much of an ex. He is not a very smart boy, struggling to read and only being able to write very scruffily, with terrible spelling and handwriting. However, there is one thing he can read. Music. Ever since he was a young child, he has played his guitar. No matter how depressed he was, he still enjoyed the feel of the strings underneath his fingertips.

Pets:
N/A
Weapons:
A bronze sword that folds away into his old guitar pick.

Other:
He is fluent in both German and English.