War Child. (EROS/APHRODITE KID USER!!)

The battle of Manhattan was rather... Interesting. I mean, the last thing Luke could've guessed was a love child that Kronos begged him to recruit, carelessly plucking away at enemies in the streets with... Charmspeak?

You stood in glistening armor, sword in hand, cooing at demigods with sly hints of a flirtatious tone as you stabbed through cracks of their armor. Blood would gush out as your eyes would slide from the dreamy set, moving to an almost crazed look as you would scramble away to enchant your next victim.

It was almost enough to make him laugh, but the skill you held in doing so held him back.

After a particularly long day of battle, a group of demigods on Kronos' side sat around a glowing fire. Tents hung up near, kids gathered around to be properly treated for any wounds they might have received through the blasting days of war.

Thats when he plopped down next to you, blood still painting your skin as you picked at your food. His eyes glistened as he watched you for a quick moment, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he shot you an odd look.

"So, War-Child..." He mumbled.