Well...Um...Hi? ((Marius; possibly PG-13?))

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Well...Um...Hi? ((Marius; possibly PG-13?))

Post by Calla Torquatus on Wed Jun 05, 2013 3:12 pm

Calla was fully unconscious from two in the morning until ten, when she awoke abruptly. In her dream, the Legacy had experienced something new--she was being chased, instead of the typical third-person view that she had in her dreams. There weren't many times that she had recalled having such a dream--or as much sleep as she had gotten that night...morning. Nonetheless, the Legacy of Mars had jolted awake from her dream after being tackled in dream-land, and at that point Callista knew that the ending of the dream wasn't going to turn into something pleasant. She looked at the glowing clock-radio in the barracks.

10:03AM.

Calla knew that at the current time of day there should be no one left in the Barracks--at least in her Cohort. Usually she would have been up four hours prior, no matter the time she snuck back in the Barracks. The day had already gotten off to a strange start, but to further the weirdness, the Legacy didn't get up, change, and train. She needed something to get her mind off of that dream. There were very few times when she needed to take a bit of time off, but the motivation that she usually had was gone.

Legionnaire Torquatus sluggishly got up from her cot, and plugged her iPod into a set of speakers near the radio on a nightstand. A miniature debate went through her head about which music to listen to, but when push came to shove, Calla ended up with the inevitable Les Mis soundtrack. As the first song had begun to play, Calla hummed along, and eventually got into full on singing. She completely lost track of time. Before she knew it, In My Life had begun to play from the speakers, and Calla took a mental step back. She gazed out of a window to see the sun shining, and to get a realization of something she didn't think would cross her mind anytime soon..."In my life, there is someone who touches my life....waiting--" Calla jumped when she saw a figure out of the corner of her eye. Her head spun in the direction of the figure. A man. Calla wasn't exactly dressed for company--let alone a guy. Her body was skinnier, but her abs were still visible as they had been previously, and her ribs were just starting to reveal themselves again. The Legacy of Mars looked at the unexpected guest for a second before spitting out, "Do you knock?"

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Re: Well...Um...Hi? ((Marius; possibly PG-13?))

Post by Guest on Sun Jun 23, 2013 11:50 pm

((Any spelling mistakes sorry, shortness sorry, run on sentences, also for going into a 32 word speech about his shirt that he's not even wearing and just general suckiness))


Marius woke up latter than the norm. he had late duty the night before and in 36 hours had round 4 hours of sleep. As soon as he hopped of his bunk silently he looked around just making sure no one was around. Not seeing anyone the teen yawned and shed his shirt with ease. Without the resticting material Marius yawned again and stretched his back until he heard his shoulder crack with satisfaction.((is that even a sentence)) He stuffed his shirt into the trunk that was under the bed. He paused only breifly to let his fingers rest on a picture of his mother. she was smiling, it was years before she had gotten sick and it was enough to make Marius feel sick. He shut the trunk and took towards the corner of his bed where his jeans hung. He picked them up and pulled them on with ease that only came with practice. There was a red mark on his face where his watch had dug into his skin. With a groan he pulled at the straps until the watch hit the floor. Rubbing the red mark Marius put his head phones in and pressed shuffle on his ipod.

Since no one else was around he didn't bother putting his favorite tee shirt all the way on. Instead it hung around his neck like a scarf showing off his lean freckled torso. His old friend had gotten the short for him 2 years before he moved to America. The shirt had the 9 students, along with Gavroche their named printed down the shirt(sorry for that sentence)). The shirt it's self was heather grey, the names in blue, except one letter in each name was red. The red letters spelled out REVOLUTION. Deftly the French boy pulled out his toothbrush and toothpaste and began to brush his teeth. One of his ear buds had fallen out and he could hear Les Mis. The voice singing sounded like one of the many actresses he had heard play Cosett before. He glanced around and saw a shadow.

Maris picked up his watch and put the tooth brush back in his mouth. He turned the corner of his bunk before he stopped dead. There was a girl, her voice like an angel. No. More of a bird, a dove or a lark. She was beautiful, but more that just beautiful. She was perfect. He then relaized, she was not completely dressed. And now she was facing him. ["Don'3 you knock?"] she demanded. Blushing Marius quicly turned his back. "Oui, I mean non. i mean, I did not know anyone was here" he stammered. He completely forgot he did not have his shirt on. The teen ruffled his hair nervously, afraid she would not be able to understand him. He had spoken with a toothbrush in his mouth. Quickly he put the watch in is pocket and took the toothbrush out of his moth swalloing . "M'dmoselle" he started "please forgive me"

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Re: Well...Um...Hi? ((Marius; possibly PG-13?))

Post by Calla Torquatus on Tue Jun 25, 2013 9:05 am

Calla instantly tensed when she saw the shirtless intruder.  The Legacy wondered how long he'd been standing there, watching.  It was bad enough that Callista was barely decent (though, under different circumstances with the two years she was away from Camp Jupiter, the clothes, or lack thereof, could have been a tad more common, paired with non-pajama shorts for training purposes), but she hadn't eaten properly, even by her standards, in weeks, and ribs had been revealing themselves again.  If you contemplate telling Sienna... a threat stopped in her mind.

She wasn't going to lie if someone would have asked her if Calla thought the guy was attractive.  He was taller than her (which wasn't a challenge for most of the male population above the age of thirteen), lean (but not skinny as she was), warm eyes, freckles...and a glimpse of a red tint to his cheeks as he turned away from her.  Frantically, the Legacy searched for a top of some sort as the guy was saying mostly incomprehensible words.  She found an old hoodie, and quickly slipped it on.  Calla walked towards him, and stopped just three feet or so behind him.  With music continuing to play in the background, she understood what the intruder was saying, at last.  "M'dmoselle,  please forgive me."

Calla smirked, "Forgiveness is the last stage."  Her tone changed from darkly honest to a more dominant sound.  "One, you may turn.  Two, I have questions, and if you don't answer them to the best of your ability and honestly, be sure to know that I am not afraid to send you to the infirmary.  Got it?"  Looking up at the guy, Calla felt like she wouldn't be able to do anything more than her absolute bare minimum.  Not because of a threat of challenge, but because she was certain that she would beat the crap out of him if he tried to win, but because he looked too fragile for anything more.  "First off, who are you, and how long were you standing there?" she demanded.

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Re: Well...Um...Hi? ((Marius; possibly PG-13?))

Post by Guest on Thu Jun 27, 2013 12:10 am

Marius stood as close to perfectly still as he could. Well as close to perfectly still as someone with ADHD could stand. He heard rustling behind him followed by  some foot steps and the sound of fabric being pulled over hair. The deep red blush that stained his face did not fade, if anything it deepened at the thought  of her being without a shirt in the first place. And now he could hear her walking closer to him. Now he prided himself on not caring for looks or gender. Not caring for looks was partly personal and partly raising. The not caring for gender that was part of his genetic code, just like his freckles.  Not going away anytime ever, and just as much a part of him. Sure he had been bullied for it, more times than he'd like to admit. Never in his home town. But the high school in America wasn't the kindest place to be pansexual, French and a demigod.  Though it got better once he found the wolves and camp.

The point! a little voice in his mind screamed. Gods having ADHD sucked, not more than a moment had past and he went from thinking of the girl to thinking about his not so happy past. Oh and the blush was back, again. She was beautiful, not just her body (though if Marius HAD seen her body he would have thought she was very beautiful). Her face, her voice and the way her hair looked and even her scowl was beautiful. The poor Frenchmen would have been bright red if he had any blood left to go to his face

The girl was uncomfortably close, he could feel her soft breath as she spoke.  Not on his neck but his bare back. This was the first moment Marius remembered that he had never finished putting his shirt on. His ear were hot with embarrassment. Calm his mind willed him to relax. He turned on command, he listened as the girl spoke with purpose and power. He nodded when as she spoke. The words ended in a sentence, a fact that escaped Marius for a few moments "Oui, je comprends" . no, idiot, English the voice came again. "I mean um, Yes I understand completely". The way the girl was looking at him reminded him of the way he studied a dog for hunting. His eyes flitted around for his weapon of choice. Not because he was planning on fighting the girl, because as soon as she allowed he wanted to leave as soon as possible. Finally his eyes found his cross bow, modified only with a scope.

(I'm thinking in Greek but I THINK they can keep their weapons if I'm wrong please inform me)

The girl asked who he was and how long he had been standing there. Marius nodded "My name is Marius Marquis, unclaimed roman demigod of the second cohort, though I mean, I guess you knew that because um here I am." the poor teen started out confident and then began to stumble around his words. "Um can I put my shirt on now?" he asked as he sliped his long limbs through the arm holes and shoving the grey shirt down.

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Re: Well...Um...Hi? ((Marius; possibly PG-13?))

Post by Guest on Thu Jun 27, 2013 12:21 am

Somnia Proelia, Militant God of Dreams

The great thing about dreams, as Somnia was often caught saying the few times he was truly awake, was that they could happen any time, any where. The traditional dream, of course, happened at night, when one was asleep and in his father’s territory, but, oh! day dreams - how Somnia loved them. Of course, it could be added that the god was rather selfish. No Roman, when on duty, had the privilege of enjoying such a pleasant destraction. Following Somnus’ footsteps in punishing those on duty had never really been a line of action Somnia took extreme interest in, but due to the distinct overlapping between dreams and sleep, the god hadn’t entirely minded when his father whacked off a few people that were misbehaving with their dreams more so than sleep. As it were, an passer-by would be hard-pressed to tell if the leader of the Oneiroi was conscious or lost to his own world.

Suddenly, the god’s eyes snapped open, and his hand strayed from his cup of coffee, reaching for a small, black, leather-bound book that lay alone on an end-table. The cover bore a worn image of a single, closed eye, and Somnia deftly flipped the book open to where the ribbon bookmark lay, eyes skimming over the words inside, a small frown appearing on his face. Very, very few gods knew about the existence of the book, and Somnia greatly appreciated that. It was the original dream journal, though it functioned far more like a GoogleDoc in the modern day - the Oneiroi no longer had to appear over the god’s shoulder and report their exploits, the Journal updated such adventures automatically, assuming the spirit recorded its activity in a timely manner. In the privacy of his home, Somnia had no problem using and looking at the Journal, but when company was over, including Somnus, the Journal disappeared quite quicky. A god with a dream journal? Never mind it was effective or that he was the creator with it - it was a distinctly Morpheus creation, and Somnia didn’t appreciate the association being quite so close to home.

But it was effective and highly organized - any Roman deity would be happy to have something like it, especially if they had hundreds of dream-giving spirits to control and keep tabs on. All the same, it was still a “dream diary” - opinionated and presence-oriented Romans frowned on the thing. Somnia’s eyes paused on a line that showed a particular dream being checked out to his father - curious. So Somnia would be getting a new sibling? That would be interesting, very interesting, especially since it seemed that the next person that particular spirit (and dream) was destined for was himself. With a pen in hand, Somnia scratched out that order of business, displeased that the Fates and his workers thought he needed a reminder of that. Never mind that he actually needed such a reminder! This was an insult to his integrity, and Somnia was mad enough to slam the book shut (bookmark back in place) and forcefully place it back on the table.

Simply unacceptable and highly insulting, Somnia grumbled, settling himself back in his chair and taking another sip of his coffee before his mind wandered off again, half-focusing on how mad he was about the insulting gesture, half developing a fantasy world in which Percy Jackson had never been cocky enough to declare each and every demigod be claimed. Life had been a lot more pleasurable before the god had to focus on every child he’d conceived and actually measure up to a certain standard of parenting, and now? It felt like Somnia could barely sit down and hammer out new dreams for the masses to enjoy, especially now that the vast majority of the world dreamt in color again - black and white TV had been an unintended blessing for the god. All these interruptions about “Oh, you have a child to claim!” or “Your child is an upset and has offended me deeply” were deeply upsetting - but at least the spirits had more than enough to do, handing out nightmares and night terrors to those that bothered Somnia the most.

When the god jerked out of his delusional reverie, the window he looked out of displayed a drastically different scene, indicating a great deal of time had flown by. A shy spirit hid in the corner, gripping a dream in its claws, watching its King eagerly. When it was noticed, Somnia ordered it out in a cold voice, perfectly aware of the dream it was holding. It was the claiming dream, the one he’d managed to postpone for who knows how long - time worked differently for the gods, and the spirits had only a fleeting grasp on time, having had the most experience flitting down to earth to deliver and collect their nightly (and sometimes daily) gifts to the humans below. In a heartbeat, the god vanished from his small bit of home in Olympus and reappeared in the midst of the barracks, taking a sudden step towards the Second.

The scene playing before the god was entirely shameful. “Pull yourself together, son,” Somnia grunted, the “son” sticking in his throat. Swiftly, the god took the watch out of Marius’ pocket and covered the back with a hand, replacing it in his son’s pocket with the emblem of a closed eye engraved in the metal. “Don’t chew him up just yet, darling,” Somnia winked at the daughter of Mars - there was something to be said for daughters of War when it came to war-like gods like Somnia Proelia. Maybe Marius had that preference too - but Somnia didn’t care to find out. He, instead, turned on his heel and walked out, vanishing back to Olympus as soon as both feet crossed the threshold.

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Re: Well...Um...Hi? ((Marius; possibly PG-13?))

Post by Calla Torquatus on Sat Jun 29, 2013 12:15 am

Calla approved as the boy stood seemingly still.  Manners are at least in check, or the guy is frightened, the Legacy thought and mentally approved both options.  Calla tensed as she got closer to him.  she made up her mind that if he laid a finger on her in any way, shape, or form, there would be no mercy.  Each time she thought like that, it was for one external factor:  her sister.  The feelings she had about her sister's death did not help the rage Calla was regularly experiencing.

"Oui, je comprends," the guy said, leaving Calla baffled.

"English or Latin" Calla demanded.

"I mean, um, yes, I understand completely," the boy replied.

"Good," Calla said, walking back to her cot.  She noticed the guy's eyes land on something, and Calla looked over to see what.  She saw nothing of use apart from a cross bow, which Calla wasn't phased by because of the threat that she was certain got through his head.

"My name is Marius Marquis, unclaimed Roman demigod of the second Cohort though I mean, I guess you already know that because um here I am," he answered only part of her question.

"You did not fully answer the question, Legionnaire Marquis," Calla snapped, walking back to her previous spot.

As she spoke, the door of the cohort opened and another intruder appeared, as Marius slipped on his shirt.  "Pull yourself together, son," the god did not sound pleased.  Calla remained silent as the god did his whole claiming spiel.  She tensed when he winked at her, as she said, "Don't chew him up just yet, darling."

"Yes, sir," Calla gave a single nod, respecting his wishes.  She remained quiet until the god left.  "What did he do to your watch?" she requested, simply out of curiosity, fully understanding if he didn't want to share.  "That one is optional.  But the second part of the first question is not.  How long were you standing there?" she demanded again.  Just because she was ordered not to chew him up did not mean that he was going to get off easily...

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