midnightfeathered

[midnightfeathered]

ARMS ARMS ARMS ARMS ARMS

[midnightfeathered]

[NOTES] How does your muse track their ideas and thoughts, or things they need to remember? Do they keep written or voice notes, or do they just think/hope that they’ll be able to recall what they need later?

big no on the voice notes. silas doesn't actually like hearing himself. it's .. a little complicated, given that he's started singing (for fun) when he was little & kept picking it up over the years when low on mental stability. it always was his pick-up activity, the one thing he could do to drag himself out of that hole of i'm giving up now, goodbye. but after the case involving his own family & the heavy burden & loss on his shoulders, it became his outlet for the pain & grief.

he never expected it to be picked up by media. sure, he wrote an album & all that, but it was .. for his own sake, mostly. he never expected to it to sell. he never expected to be able to live on music..as a profession after he turned thirty. anyway, he doesn't have voice notes because, yes. no.

a habit he's kept from work it post-its all around. he has a pen & a stack of sticky notes in his bag for when he needs it, his room in the nike cabin is cluttered in notes, for sure. about song ideas, research he plans to do, notes about languages he's trying to learn - so he won't forget & many more, but the majority of them will be stuck on a white pinboard he brought with him. habit from work.. before.. he gave it up. he fully believes in read to remember so he re-reads everything every day in the hopes of being able to recall to them at will later.

[midnightfeathered]

Pedro Pascal / Strange Way of Life (2023)

[midnightfeathered]

@conquerstarters open to: all, come at me bbies <3

somewhat ..unhappy his divine mother seemingly punished him with silence despite the victory he brought home after their last mission, silas was wandering camp. it was strange being back after such a long time & yet, he felt like he was home once again. sure, it would never be the home he lost, but it could make a worthy replacement. with time. what better way to gauge the general mood in camp than to sit by the bonfire. waiting, watching, wondering. when he came to it, someone else was already sitting there, the sun slowly setting & bathing camp in a beautiful shade of red. his guitar was set down against one of the logs as eyes went to find a different pair. "mind me joinin' ya? promise i ain't gonna sing." yet.

[midnightfeathered]

[midnightfeathered]

[midnightfeathered]

[midnightfeathered]

[midnightfeathered]

tag dump.

[midnightfeathered]

silas. • bodyclaim. • headcanons. • isms. 

BASIC INFO

full name — Silas Rivera age — forty-four (december 7th) gender — cis male, (he/ him/ his pronouns) orientation — homosexual occupation — musician mma fighter cop musician hero ;) deity connection — nike  sparrow name — dante the beloved dumbass weapon — longbow + shortswords clothing style / armor — jeans + flannel & layers, so many layers / studded leather armor

PHYSICAL INFO

face claim — Pedro Pascal hair — brown / eyes — brown height — five foot & eleven inches build — kinda like a T, broad af shoulders, semi-muscled torso, slutty waist (it be thin ok), everything else is yum scars — a faint one across the bridge of his nose, underneath his right eye, bullet wound scar right next to his heart tattoos — notes in the back of his neck (he was grounded forever for getting it) like so, sparrow on the inside of his left arm like so, front right thigh like so piercings — ears special characteristics — generally quiet, comes off a little distracted sometimes, will snark without reason, some dare calling him grumpy sexual preference — bottom sub (he thinks he's a switch but he's really not)

PERSONALITY

alignment — chaotic good positive traits — protective, caring, calm, strong-willed negative traits — indecisive, short-tempered, stubborn hobbies — music, kyudo (japanese archery), cooking, enjoying the quiet, seething

MEDICAL INFO

mental — ptsd physical — when he was younger, he got his shoulder dislocated and his sister thought she could pop it back in. she didn’t and broke his shoulder. he couldn't work for months, nor could he use the bow for even longer, now he can’t lift his right arm as high as the left one still, but only few know phobias — claustrophobia, pisantrophia eyesight — 20/20 although avrae tends to disagree dominant hand — left hand drug use — nop alcohol use — social drinker diet — healthy, but balanced. like, he will sin every now and then, or drink etc. he's not a strict bean.

BACKGROUND

birthplace — austin, TX parents — Marin Rivera (step-mother) & Diego Muños (father) & Nike (biological parent). siblings — younger sister, Luisa Rivera (she be mortal) pets — floof, stray cat coming by the gym, died in a car crash education — high school drop-out notable skills — krav maga, can wear cowboy hats with anything, can sing, has a mean left hook

BIO

Being born a man's bastard son shouldn't be a heavy burden to carry anymore in the twenty-first century, should it? And yet, Silas was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, though he was never meant to taste it himself. One bright, sunny morning Diego Muños found himself the father of a little boy he didn't know he had signed up for. He didn't and he wouldn't, because Diego Muños had a beautiful wife and a beautiful three year old son, but neither of them would take too kindly to being introduced to an affair's child. Neither would be another affair, surely, but he was out of options.

Marin Rivera was young and madly in love with a man she knew was no good for her and yet, while knowing deep down he would never give up his privileged life for her, she hoped. He didn't. Instead, he left her with a boy that wasn't even hers to fend for herself in a world that knows no mercy for the unfortunate, but regardless of that, Marin never faltered - not for long anyway. She raised that little boy, claiming him to be hers like there'd never been any doubt he was. Diego came by a few times over the years, usually only to pick up where he and Marin left off, but she wouldn't have it anymore. She took her son and left the state to start fresh in a new environment, away from past memories and sins.

Austin in Texas was.. fine. It was a decent home for them and Marin loved her little boy regardless of the troubles that came with his birth. One might think she blamed him for Diego leaving her, for ending their secret little tryst once and for all, but .. she didn't. If she did, she never once let the little boy know. She raised him a good boy, a momma's boy who'd move mountains to keep her from harm. Silas found his love for music early on in life, his mother always supportive and trying to allow him the best possible life. She worked day and night, but never failed to be there for Silas - even when she wasn't home. Guitar lessons, singing lessons, archery lessons. Anything he wanted, he got.

Silas grew up a happy little boy, with his spanish roots never quite forgotten even if they didn't settle in as prominently as Marin had hoped. She taught him how to cook and take care of himself, they spent most of their time together, because despite the joy the boy felt every day at home, school ... was different. Silas was not the social flower he appeared to be around the person he loved more than his life. So, around other kids, he struggled, but that never quite mattered to him. He didn't care what they thought of him, not in the slightest. He focused on himself, his own growth, his own ... strength. Or well, his own interests. Like music.

The first time his wings popped out was in school no less. He'd always felt out of place and that just ..confirmed it, in a way. Nobody else seemed to mind, or even notice, so for a long while he thought he imagined it. And then it happened again during PE. Too lost in a race across the obstacle course, he didn't even notice until after. To the outside world, he simply and very, very swiftly leapt over every single one. Again, he thought he'd imagined it as nobody else seemed to notice, but the next time it happened was at home. Thirteen and quite angry at his mother over a small dispute, he suddenly sprouted pitch-black and yet, incredibly soft feathers from his back. But she didn't ...notice. Not until half a year later.

She noticed her son growing .. restless. More impatient, more irritable, more ... something she didn't recognize. The constant need to trump over others, even his own mother was showing and he had only little resistance to it. He...had edges that didn't go unnoticed in school, so he drew attention to himself - unwanted, mostly. Fights broke out and at first it quickly showed Silas had no idea what he was doing, but his mother - hopeful to grant her angry little boy an outlet for his anger, signed him up for boxing lessons. Six times a week. And it turned out he wasn't half bad, really - eager to train, eager to grow, eager to be the best.

Silas did calm down somewhat, but defeat was never acceptable. All the way through school, highschool and even afterwards. It took the Satyr two years to find him and introduce him to Camp Halfblood, but when he did, everything made sense. Son of Nike. Did have a nice ring to it and explained the urges Silas hadn't quite been able to categorize. His mother ... understood, too, as much as she was able. Silas dropped out of highschool when recruited by an MMA coach who promised him the world on a silver platter.

He didn't lie ..per se. Music was never quite abandoned, but his training sessions after signing with the coach were inhuman. A normal young man probably wouldn't have even been able to attempt that schedule, but Silas rocking it only impressed the coach further. Three years later, he made it into the UFC, but ... missed the title by just a few points. Loss never quite sat well with him, so Silas quit fighting that night.

Next step, police academy, officer, detective. Silas never half-assed anything. When he signed up, he did so whole-heartedly with no remorse and no prisoners taken. Well, not quite literally, but .. it would take a lot to stop him this time. Due to him quitting school early, he ran into some issues, but nothing effort and puppy eyes couldn't fix. He rose up the ranks quickly, p1 ... p2... nothing could stop him. Even losing his heart to a fellow officer didn't stop him. Not that they needed any stopping, because sure - it was somewhat frowned upon because officers involved with another could pose potential risks or weaknesses, but they stood strong.

Up to the point where they felt ready to adopt a child. A cute, beautiful little girl. His partner put his own career on the back burner for it and Silas made the best of it. Detective in six years. New record. Life was good, life was fulfilling and sweet and he enjoyed every second of it, but he made a great mistake that would cost him everything he held dear. He took work home with him.

And it was that kind of work that pulled in all the dark, rotten souls that only had one thing in mind. Destroy. He came home late on a Friday night, his apologies via text had gone unnoticed and Silas assumed that was due to his husband being ...unhappy, so on the way home he picked up flowers and chocolates, only he didn't expect to find his life in literal shambles in the living room.

It wasn't even anything special they wanted. Money and revenge. It was always either of the two, though sometimes both. Silas found them and brought them to justice, but ... would it ever be that? Just? A life behind bars in exchange for two beautiful souls? Nah. And yet, loss never quite sat well with him, so Silas quit the police that night. Unsure where to go from there, especially now that grief hit him twice as hard after suppressing it for months during his chase, he retreated from.. everything.

Locked up at home with only himself, his thoughts and his guitar... he found a new, old outlet. He'd played for his family sometimes, but other than that he didn't touch it in quite a while. Three weeks later he had a contract and a published album and it would be a lie to claim his story didn't speed up his walk of shame fame. The next years were ... a blur. Music, concerts, albums, solitude... and recurring dreams he chose to ignore. The urge to take over the music industry overnight still there, but over the years of Silas just ... existing in a life he felt was no longer his, he'd grown somewhat calmer.

But these dreams refused to leave him alone. His mother's chants in his ears even during the way when he tried to make music. So loud, almost blinding... so he gave in.

Back to fricken' Camp Halfblood.