I'm sadly one of those who have followed the movieverse of this saga. I did read the first and second book though, maybe the third. I remember the whole junkyard bit, I think. Something like that that had to do with Hades kids, but that's it. Sad face. :(

[hider=Dover Kit Lindholm][center][img=http://37.media.tumblr.com/d0215b2098f85e807b5082c05848da67/tumblr_mumcsgGOqP1rtnihco1_1280.jpg][/center]

[center][i]Standing at roughly 6'0" and weighing about 178 lbs, Dover is solid in stature and poise, if not a little drawn back. He's developed a good amount of musculature and believes thoroughly that being healthy and fit is the best way to go. Of course, Dover isn't the most confident of individuals and it shows in the way he carries himself and even talks. A soft-spoken individual with a gravely tone, often depicted as a low hum of an engine or smooth caramel. His tone is often quieter, though, and he usually chooses not to speak, preferring to use body language most of the time. It's easier and often takes less effort to push through social barriers if people can tell how he feels just by looking at him. His hair's a solid black, with blue eyes akin to the multiple shades of a coastline and rather sharp, defined features. Often smiling his perfect row of pearly white teeth, it's obvious Dover is usually swayed into positive moods and can be generally cheery, though he isn't vocal about it; energetic hops, ever moving body, and the same smile he always flashes is often the showcase of a very happy individual.

Dover has been often likened to a painting, in that he shows the world the emotion, the passion, the mood of what is currently enthralling him. Often vibrant and full of color when positive, or somber and ridden with dull grays and blacks when stricken by negativity. It's the heart on a sleeve concept, but to a degree that Dover pushes beyond its limits. Though, there's an enigma about him and a mystery shrouding his thoughts—those of which aren't visible on the surface—as if there's always a deeper meaning behind the actions he makes or the expressions he paints onto his canvas. It's visible in the swirling blue orbs, but so thoroughly locked that it's only a multitude of guesses that may or may not even be true. Only the artist knows of the true motives behind his or her painting and that's what often gets to people, to the point where they make no move to hide their need to know Dover beyond what he shows. It's led more to him retreating back to his shell than him indulging the masses.[/i][/center]

[center][b]Name:[/center][/b]
[center]Dover Kit Lindholm[/center]
[center][b]Gender:[/center][/b]
[center]Male[/center]
[center][b]Age:[/center][/b]
[center]18[/center]
[center][b]Personality: [/center][/b]
[center]Not at all what one would expect of a son of the God of love. Dover isn't charming, isn't mischievous, won't knock the socks off of the nearest man or women in an attempt to woo them. In a sense, he's a victim of circumstance, a man who seeks love, but cannot get it. Torn in a rift between helping others fall and helping himself—either way, his love, the love he can get for himself, would never be the real thing. And thus, Dover doesn't try his best to fall into the teenage dating realm and simply does what he does best: help. It produced a very introverted individual, with the propensity to observe rather than participate. Quiet, preferring the company of maybe just one other person or a good book, Dover wasn't keen on socialization and, therefore, didn't make many friends who didn't just use him for what he was known for. This, Dover didn't mind as he was helping people regardless of their nature. In fact, it was really all he could ask for in the situations he put himself in. He didn't hide the fact that he knew what people wanted from him and that favors weren't really favors and more like commissions in exchange for money, or something.

So, life for Dover wasn't all that bad. He was a relatively happy individual, preferring a smile on his face rather than the frown of someone who wasn't enjoying their life. Dover enjoyed what he did because he, in a sense, thrived off of other's happiness—their love even. He's very much a creature prone to the whims of the environment surrounding him, and so he does his best to make that environment as pleasant as possible. As well, his mood is often matched by the weather and how it affects others around him. Dover's got a propensity for meddling with the best intentions, often butting into arguments and fights just to make it all better. Though, the outcome may not be entirely what he wanted and can sometimes get a little too graphic for himself... and the public eye. He's learned to tone that down a lot, a lot.

Then there's the vindictive side of Dover. No one's the son of the God or Goddess of love without inheriting their vicious, jealous nature along with all the other stuff. Dover's angrier, more envious side is a lot subtler than most of his half-siblings, often resorting to simply twisting the world around him to suit his moods and his needs. He can't turn on the charm, but he can vent by forcing people to fight over him, or fight over someone else. It can get vicious, if he was particularly scorned harshly. People who find themselves on the wrong end of Dover, often find themselves not only on the rocks, but positioned just so to see the apple of their eye cooing over someone else. Depending on the person, and Dover's mood, this can send them into an envious melancholia or a jealous rage. The latter of which can cause quite a scene, of which usually satisfies Dover enough to let it continue unfolding to its untimely end, where the individual is either getting beaten to a pulp, beating someone to a pulp, or making such a fool of themselves it'd be hard to return without risking being ridiculed even more.[/center]
[center][b]History: [/center][/b]
[center]Brought up in Chicago, Illinois, Dover wasn't much of a problem child... or a normal child, really. But, then again, he didn't much know his normal parents. He was shipped off to an all-boys boarding school half the nation away. Apparently, his parents had enough money to afford the best of the best, but he'd not know of that for who knew how long. Of course, he didn't figure he was quite an unwanted child, seeing as he didn't find much of a problem with himself and neither did the other kids. It was probably just out of love and genuine concern that he get the best education money could buy. Though, in reality, that wasn't the case.

About a few years after being born to a rather wealthy and high-up couple in the windy city, a thought occurred to the mother. Of course, she knew the child wasn't just a mere human being, as she could recount exactly the illegitimate tryst she had with a supposedly normal man. Turned out to be a God. Chalk that up to affairs gone south. What more, she was to bear his child, something her husband would suspect was his. But, that would be backing it up rather far. On numerous occasions and increasing in frequency as he got older, Dover was incapable of controlling his own powers, and thus attracted a many things that would seek to harm him. Three years old and wandering downtown Chicago with his mother, he'd set off a chain of events which unfolded into the car wrecks to end all car wrecks. There were a lot of injured, but no one had seemed to perish—a lot of 'em got married a month or two later. However, that wasn't quite the trouble that caused her mother to ponder the safety of her child; it was the pair of malicious looking empousai in their true forms. They'd both smelled the blood of the child in her arms and the were drawn by the powers he'd previously used. The pair chased both mother and son through the labyrinth of alleyways in Chicago, before apparently losing them a few miles away, unable to hear their piercing screams as they succumbed to death.

It was then, she determined that Dover would be better raised and protected if he'd had his powers unknowingly suppressed. And if it meant getting him away from his other father's prying eyes, then all the better. That wasn't quite the case, though. In fact, they flourished as they would have anywhere else. And with it, they attracted a multitude of beings who wanted nothing more than to taste his half-blood meat. But, it did start out quiet, with Dover finding a lone seat in the back of the bus that took him to the only place he'd call home. To make certain that her son wouldn't have any thoughts of home, she set out to find the nearest child of Hecate, guided in kind by Dover's actual father. The woman she found, old and somehow safe from the creatures that roamed the world, clouded Dover's mind and memories so that his mother would just be a fleeting memory and home would be wherever he currently resided.

He spent years there, an all-boys school, studying harder than most—being afflicted with dyslexia tended to make schoolwork a lot harder. Dover found he, a child of Eros, wanted nothing more than the comfort of another person. And he found that, as he grew older, but soon found it was too forced, to... fake. Charming other people, making them fall head over heels for him, just wasn't the same as finding that right person or anyone who actually, autonomously liked him. It was then he simply set out to make other people's lives a little better. He could see the desire in others, the need and want that he had but for other people. Teacher bent under his suggestions, students finally built up the courage, and he just watched, happily smiling in his little corner. People did notice, though, but they didn't think he had some kind of magical power bestowed upon him by a father who was of the Godly status. No, to them he just had a knack for finding that certain something or noticing the attraction between two people. And he was more than happy to help, though it pained him to see his work so alive around him, but nothing he could participate in, no love to give to himself. For some reason it was real for other people, it was authentic because he just gave them a push. He, on the other hand, needed to fully force someone to even find a small attraction in himself. That's not to say he didn't, on occasion persuade someone into maybe just a nice, quiet night. Dover was a romantic at heart and found starry nights and the warmth of a fire and a body o be better than the carnal, sexual desires pent up in people. He'd not take advantage of a person simply because he had his needs and wants; that was wrong to him.

But, of course, it didn't quite last as he expected. Being a half-blood and using one's powers so liberally meant it was a lot easier be detected, found, and exterminated. Of course, he himself had a few friends who were, more or less, looking out for him. A sticky situation with a few harpies and a chimera finally got him to see who he really was and a satyr guide's quick explanation before whisking him away to the sanctuary of his kind. Of course, it was a lot to digest, of which the long road trip served as enough time. Demigod, son of Eros, what a thrill, though it didn't quite look that way the whole ride through. In fact, the satyr often asked if he was alright, to which he'd shakily replied that he was fine and proceed to barrel a bunch of questions his way. Apparently a small group of satyrs had unknowingly been drawn to the school he'd been holed up in most of his life and kind of got caught up in the meddling he'd been doing. After profusely apologizing, the satyr stopped the car and escorted him out and into the camp where things further perplexed and awed him at the same time. He'd been thoroughly introduced to his new home.[/center]
[center][b]Godly Parent:[/center][/b]
[center]Eros, God of Love[/center]
[center][b]Signature Weapon:[/center][/b]
[center][i]Syneparménos Kentó̱n[/i], or [i]Besotted Stinger[/i], a celestial bronze rapier of a more golden hue, with a curved hilt laced in gold, covered by a golden, dove shaped handguard. It's lethality depends on Dover's own powers, absorbing whatever sexual desires are pent up in the surrounding area, and releasing it in thrusts and slashes. In a non-combatant state it can transform into a small pin needle; it's touch can influence even the most stoic of individuals to fall prey to their carnal desires. When not in use it retracts into a dove or bee shaped locket depending on his overall mood.[/center]

[center][img=https://31.media.tumblr.com/fa7dcab02bf7622f96463187de2bde64/tumblr_n3dta7CF8H1t5b491o3_r1_500.gif][/center][/hider]