BROOKLYN 'ROOK' WEST

Brooklyn West

the basics

full name • Brooklyn Teresa West
nicknames • Rook
age • 25
birthday • October 19
species • Demi-god
occupation • Tattoo Artist/Drug Dealer/Street Fighter
godly parent • Ares
claimed • yes
gender • female
sexuality • bisexual
face claim • marie avgeropolous

the Personality

likes • coffee, alcohol, sex, fireplaces, sunrsets, thick covers, men, women, physical activity, fighting, drawing, dogs, sleeping, dancing,
dislikes • cold, idiots, the kind of rain that soaks you to the bone and leaves you cold as fuck, needy men/women, pushy people, spiders, impatience, the nicknames 'Brook' or 'Brooksie'
strengths • incredibly patient, smart, quick
weaknesses • immoral, lazy
dreams • wants that heart-stopping, breath-taking, all consuming romance (though she never will admit it)
fears • failing the one person that matters
overall personality • the first thing you notice about brooklyn is that she has an easy smile that is usually quirked up in a smirk or a full blown grin. mostly because rook isn't a silent kinda person and most of the things that come out of her mouth amuse her greatly. she's very much her own source of entertainment and while that can get annoying to other people she doesn't much care. unlike the people who run their mouths and think they are the shit, she knows when to back off and cool down, she knows there is a line and she doesn't cross it. however, that doesn't mean she won't be blunt and upfront about things. the truth is something that rook always tells, no matter what the situation is, she doesn't like lying and she won't do it, not for anyone. while she's not adamant about others telling the truth nor will she go around preaching about telling the truth and all that bullshit, she won't do it herself. which may be quite the problem given that she's an illegal weapons dealer. she's just good with evading that sort of conversation. she's blunt, she's honest, and she doesn't have a filter.

she tends to stick to the simple things in life, she appreciates the morning sunrise, when the rays touch freshly wet plants, lighting up the world for all to see. she enjoys doing simple activities, walking through forests, or jungles, or mountain ranges. she loves to see things, whether they be old or new to her, and she enjoys the freedom that working under the law gives her. being that she likes the simple things in life she doesn't really have much that riles her up. then again her way of releasing her irritation and anger is through her sharp wit and rather harsh sarcasm. she also tends to ignore the problem, instead she'll redirect the conversation, if that is what is irritating her, so that she doesn't have to deal with it. while she isn't exactly the easiest to get along with, she's very observant and could potentially get along with everyone. she reads people well, noticing the smallest facial twitch, the smallest gesture, and can identify the tone of voice in many situations.

rook doesn't like to have others opinions pressed upon her. she likes to draw her own conclusions, see things for herself and make up her own mind. she doesn't sway easily and she does not conform with the rest of society just because the rest of the society believes in one certain things. she reserves her judgement until she's positive that her judgement is needed. rook is blunt, brutally blunt, and she is not afraid to state what she thinks. she also will tell you if your a dick, or if you have issues, regardless of your status or power. she fears death, but she fears losing herself more, losing herself to become just a statistic, just another one who conforms to the general census. rook tends to come off as rude and distant, because she sometimes forgets that it isn't very nice to point out someones faults, to be so blunt.

brooklyn just sees herself as being honest and truthful, no matter what. rook may come off as opinionated, and she does have her opinions, strong ones that she considers carefully, they are thought out and processed. she does not believe in rumors, she believes more in what she sees than what she hears. so it is safe to say that rook is not judgmental, not all the time at least. if she is judgmental it's only after she's considered all her 'evidence' after she's thought out everything and seen things herself. then she allows herself to judge. and she will judge. if she doesn't like you, she'll let you know just how bad you really are. she's stubborn and determined in many aspects of her life.

the History

father • Ares, 2700+, God of War
mother • Alana West (deceased)
siblings • Any Ares children
important people • none
hometown • New York, New York
overall history • Whatever it was that drew Ares to Alana surely disappeared shortly after the birth of their daughter. She wasn't quite responsible enough to be a parent, spending her money at bars while leaving Brooklyn at home with an inadequate babysitter. It wasn't long that the financial stress of raising a child on her own, with no actual degree of her own and barely a high school diploma, put so much pressure on her that she started to get into drugs. Brooklyn was three when she was taken from her mother, distant 'Brooke' in an unfamiliar voice all that she had of her mother. 

From there Brooklyn (yes, named after the borough) went into a foster home. She stayed there for a few years before the two foster parents decided that they couldn't afford and handle five children running throughout the home. By then Brooklyn was old enough that being put into a different home was unsettling for her. She was seven when she moved next, having spent so many years with her foster parents that it was an adjustment. There wasn't four other children running around the household, just two boys who weren't exactly happy that they had to share a home with a small, annoying little girl. They started calling her names, 'Brooksie' said in a baby voice was the one she grew to hate. Brooklyn had to spend another four years with the boys, being picked on and pushed around by them until she realized that if she just didn't react that they soon lost interest. 

Her patience was rather amazing for someone so young, but she was a quick learner and when she realized her laid-back, nonchalant demeanor tended to ward away the teasing, she adopted it as personality. It quickly became who she was. Brooklyn's foster home was in a poorer part of town, where hoodlums ran rampant and most kids became hardened individuals. She was no different. Between being picked on, and the fact that it was a dog eat dog world out there, Brooklyn developed a thick skin. Most things started to not bother her, she saw people being beat up, shot, killed, murdered right before her eyes. Women harassed and kids harmed. 

Things that no young child should really have to see. Violence and darkness in a place that promoted freedom and safety. Brooklyn got into her first scrap when she was eleven, small fists swinging though she got her ass beat pretty good. 'Rookie!' She'd been called after, a young boy that was all crooked smiles came and helped her up. His name was Derrick. He ended up being her constant companion, he taught her the basics of fighting and he gave her her forever nickname. It started with Rookie, before slowly becoming Rook. She never knew she could cherish a name so much. 

Back then she didn't know there was anything different about Derrick, he was just another boy that she was growing up with, albeit one that understood her. Rook never cared more about a person than she did Derrick. But a few short years later she found herself parted from someone she might have loved had they the chance to grow together. He and his family moved out of the hellhole neighborhood that they lived in, and Rook was left alone. Her heart ached for him, and she hated the feeling so she decided to tuck the feelings away and pretend that they never happened. 

Perhaps it was lucky that Derrick had left, because several months after he left Rook was visited by someone who claimed to know who she was, what she was. The truth was revealed to her then, the girl was a satyr, sent to escort her to Camp Half-blood where she'd learn all about her father. Rook took it pretty well, learning she was the daughter of a god. Rook fell into place in the Camp, being claimed eventually by Ares and settling into his cabin. She learned to really fight there, becoming quite the force to be reckoned with. She wasn't afraid to fight dirty. She was fierce, the things that Derrick taught her only having her excel in the things she learned at Camp Half-blood.

And then she decided to leave. She was fifteen when she got into Camp Halfblood, but she only spent a few years there. Enough to grow bored and yearn for the busy, violent streets of New York City. So on her twentieth birthday she decided to skip out and go back to that concrete jungle. She found herself in the same little hole her mother was in, a small crappy apartment with no money, little education, and hardly a job to support herself. Unlike her mother, Rook thrived like this. She didn't need much and she found herself easily occupied with many of life's pleasures. She started to fight in the underground rings, earning money and a reputation there. She sold drugs, because she was damn good at it and it brought in an income. She started to tattoo because the woman had a peculiar talent and it was a damn good way to make income. She survived and Rook loved the life she lived.

the Sample

The water lapped easily at the edge of the concrete, the waves small and calm in the heat of the summer night. Everything appeared calm, untouched and deserted, however the truth was far from that. Keen eyes could easily spot the low lights of an abandoned warehouse, if a person would stop for a moment you could hear the faint sounds of frenzied yelling. The closer you got, the clearer it became, until you were inside the building where heavy bass was echoing off the bare walls and the screams of the on-lookers nearly eclipsed any other sound. Not loud enough to hide the words of the man in front of her. He was scrawny, she noted, but his muscles corded thickly to his arms and the look on his face betrayed the fact that he was dangerous. C'mon little girl, lemme show you what a real man is like. He was a newcomer to this particular set of fighting rings. He'd won several of his previous fights, shown by the already beaten and bloody face.

Rook thought that the tooth near her foot was from him, but she couldn't be sure. She didn't watch the contenders often because she didn't particularly care. Her expression remained slightly bemused with his words as she flipped the hood of her sweater off of her face and flicked her long braid behind her. Aw look at that pretty face, too bad Imma fuck it up. His arrogance was amusing, that was for sure, but he didn't know exactly who he was dealing with. Most of the crowd did, because they had seen her fight before, but this was the first time that Rook would step into the ring while this guy was here. Sharp blue eyes scoured over the man, noting the way he bounced eagerly from foot to foot, the way his muscles contracted in an eagerness she could definitely appreciate. His lips were quirked into a crooked grin as he stared nearly hungrily at her. Her replying stare was partially amused, and partially uninterested. Her hands tucked into her pockets as the announcer called for last bets and she waited patiently for her to be introduced.

Ladies and gentleman! The announcer's (though he was just a loud-mouth crackhead that bought cocaine from her) voice cut through the frenzied voices and harsh bass. We've got our next fight! Ready to defend her title, we've got Rook over in the left corner, and the challenger, Double D in the right! She unfolded her hands from her pockets then, unzipping the grey hoodie and shrugging it off as she stepped forward. Her shoulder's rolled briefly before she rolled her weight onto the heels of her feet. Lil girl, you think you can handle me? His taunting voice finally found a reaction as her lips quirked into a grin and her head tilted to the side. Perhaps, in another setting, her little smirk could be considered flirty, but here it just seemed condescending. She threw the man a wink and lifted a hand to crook a finger at him.

He moved forward, muscles in his arms bunching as he closed the distance between the two with ease. The man, dubbed Double D, thought he was going to land a square punch across her pretty face and take her out with one hit. Unfortunately for him, she fought things much scarier than a scrawny, hyped up arrogant asshole. She almost could see his fist coming in slow motion, making it so much easier for her to adjust herself. Her foot slid backwards, weight shifting to bring her slightly back as his fist just barely missed her cheek. The woman used his momentum, hands snapping up to grip behind his neck and pull viciously downward to meet her extended knee. She could feel his nose breaking against the hard cap of her knee bone before he was stumbling backwards. Not far enough, however, as she shifted her weight lightening quick and gave him a solid kick just below his chest and sent him crashing to the other side of the ring. Her lips threatened to curl as the crowd burst into nearly wild rapture at the spartan kick. It always got them going.

The man scrambled back to his feet, the joking arrogance gone from his face as he touched his broken nose and spit out a wad of blood. Her head tilted to the side just slightly in a 'is that it?' motion before he was charging forward again, that easy arrogance gone now that he'd been suitably humiliated by a woman. He threw a right hook and Rook found herself anticipating it. He was telegraphing everything he was doing, so much so that Rook almost thought this was just too damn easy. Must be a new fighter. Confident in his abilities yet not all that great enough to really pose a threat. He swung his fist at her and she raised her arm to block it, shock crossing his face when she stopped him dead. Sometimes she didn't like using her superior strength, but in truth she didn't much care for the likes of him. He thought that he'd get away with a single punch and lay her flat on her ass.

Over-confidence was annoying. Her replies were in quick succession, planting a fist into his gut and then returning to let her slim fingers smash into his jaw. He managed to step far enough back that her next punch barely grazed his chin, giving him enough time to charge at her, his arm's wrapping around her torso and sending them both crashing to the ground. Immediately her legs wrapped around the man, muscles contracting to keep him from pinning him beneath her completely. Her right leg slipped up, forcing his arm to be caught between himself and her leg. Her legs contracted and she squeezed further, cutting off the man's air supply as he struggled vainly to get out of her hold. She grabbed his free arm, pulling tightly as he tried to land a punch into her side. She waited patiently then, knowing he wasn't going to get out of her hold and as soon as he settled she shifted to roll the man off of her and easily found her way to her feet.

Her eyes remained on the man as he rolled over to his knees, out of breath and nearly passed out. "Next time, I suggest you ask yourself 'can I handle her?. Might make your night a little less painful." She told him easily, voice low but heard over the crowd. In return she earned a glob of blood soaked spit coating her bare calf. Blue eyes flitted down to where he'd spit on her, eyes lingering there for a moment before her lips curled into a smile and she laughed. The crowd had hushed while the man spit at her, waiting for the explosion that happened with so many other fighters. Most of them were incredible hot heads. Rook? She had come to do what she intended, and that was it. "Do it again." She told him, even going so far as pushing her leg further towards the man to make it easier for him. He hesitated a moment before spitting at her again.

Her reaction was lightening quick as she shifted her weight to her extended foot and drew her leg from behind her. She had reigned in the strength behind the kick slightly, but there was still a resounding crack as her foot connected with the man's jaw. His pained cry echoed through the empty building and immediately the crowd roared. Because they lived for that violent shit. Rook was sure she'd broken his jaw as she peered down at where he was holding tightly onto his jaw and crying out in pain. "Someone take him to the hospital. It's broken." She called out, where someone immediately scurried out to help the man up and surely out. She had already turned away to grab her sweater and move towards the crack-head announcer to grab the money she'd earned. He also offered her a rag and she wiped away the spit that lined her calf.

And then she immersed herself into the crowd, making her way towards someone very much familiar who had been lingering in the crowd. "Hey pops. Enjoy the show." She asked him lazily, shrugging the sweater on before making her way towards the exit of the building. It'd be quieter to talk over there, plus she wanted to count how much she made. She had to pay rent tomorrow.

alias • Tawny
age • 22
pronouns • she/her
other characters • Laurel Elswood Persephone