What just happened? (Calla)

Narissa laid on her bunk, flipping through one of the fashion magazines she had smuggled into camp when the New Yorkers came home. Seeing the stick-thin models in designer dresses made her miss the old days when she had been on her own. She had booked a few modeling jobs herself when she was staying at that hotel in New York, and now she longed for the feel of expensive fabric and the sound of a camera shutter snapping closed. She looked down at her Camp Half-Blood T-shirt and athletic shorts in disgust. She never would've been caught dead in this outfit a few months ago. Sadly, all of her half-way decent clothes were dirty, and Narissa would rather lie around in T-shirts and athletic shorts than do laundry.

Speaking of chores, Narissa had some to do. She knew if she got caught here, she would be in deep trouble. She should be doing training or something useful, but she felt like being useless today (like most days). She contemplated what would happen to her if she was found here, decided that it would be nothing that she couldn't handle with a smile and some quick-talking, and went back to her magazine.

She stayed there, uncaught, for a few hours. Everyone else was out, contributing to society. Narissa sighed, kicking her foot lazily as it dangled over the side of her bed. She got up, and did some laundry, feeling disgusted with herself for wearing athletic shorts for more than two days in a row. She quickly changed into a pair of jean short-shorts and an eyelet tank-top before returning to her magazines. 

Narissa hadn't been lying there for more than ten minutes when she heard someone coming into the barrack. She jumped, flinging the magazine under a pile of freshly cleaned clothes, and tried to make herself look busy by folding the clothes. She hoped that it was a good enough rouse.

((A little short, but I'm a bit rusty. Hope this will do! ))

Calla had stopped in her cohort for a brief time to change out of her clothes into something more suitable for training than jean shorts and a tank top.  When she entered, the Legacy noticed a younger girl, no more than seventeen (as Calla assumed).  Out of courtesy, Calla smiled and gave a quick nod to her before grabbing a pair of athletic shorts, and an old Camp Jupiter, and heading towards the bathroom. to change.  As she came out, Callista got a better look at the girl, an orange T-Shirt--the same ones that the Graeci wore.  "You are Roman, correct?" she asked, to simply clarify confusion, as she folded up her jean shorts, a little too neatly, perhaps, and returned them to the trunk.  Replacing a pair of sneakers and socks with the flip flops she had on, Calla pushed the trunk back underneath her bed.  She gave just  enough time for the girl to answer, or decline (it was the girl's choice in the end), as Calla laced up her sneakers, grabbed her helmet from the underside of her bed, and jogged out the door.

Out the door, and straight to the Arena within the walls of Camp Jupiter the sleep-deprived Legacy ran.  Calla was running just a bit late as she checked her watch when she reached her destination. The nineteen-year-old slipped on her helmet and grabbed a gladius off of the rack, and began whacking a training dummy that once belonged to the Graeci.  This knowledge fueled some of her energy for training, for what they did.

Calla trained for what felt like an hour, but reality set in when her watch claimed that it was double of what she though.  And Sienna is going to kill me if I'm caught here at this time of day...again... she thought, taking a drink of water.  Miss Torquatus bent over, grabbed her helmet once again, though it had never left her sight, and began walking at a decent speed.  About half way between the Arena and barracks, Calla slowed her pace to a stroll, though most others would consider it too fast to be a stroll, but that was the slowest the young woman would walk in public.

Upon returning to the Second Cohort within the barracs, Calla took another gulp of water, and wiped her brow with a towel that she kept with her helmet (to ensure that she would not forget it).  Calla opened the door of the cohort, and took her sweet time getting to her bunk.  The Legacy grew confused when she saw the same girl as before.  "Excuse me, but did you do anything productive in the past two and a half hours?" she rudely asked. There were quite a few things that had changed since the Legacy had been at Camp, but being a couch potato, for any amount of time that one could spend making, of helping Rome was one thing she did not tolerate.  She believed that once you earn your vacation, you can break.  She did also realize that being MIA from the army for two years of reconstruction wasn't the best thing to do for Rome, but she had paid her time prior to the attack, and she had plans to continue to be loyal.  Plus, it was being plagued with Roman pride that truly made her go AWOL for two years...

"You are Roman, correct?" a girl's voice said, rudely interrupting Narissa's magazine reading. She snorted, not bothering to look up from her magazine. Anyone who would question her right to be in the barracks wasn't worth the effort to actually make eye-contact with. "Of course I am," she said with an air of, 'Are you sure you're in the right place to be asking such questions?' Narissa laughed a little and then asked, "What would make you ask that?" Because the girl hadn't bothered to look up at the voice's owner, she hadn't realized that the other girl had left, probably to do something productive, like the rest of the members in their cohort.

Narissa pondered what on Earth would make the other girl consider her a to be a Greek, and then realized that it was the orange camp shirt. She'd stolen it from the laundry a few months ago when she ruined her only t-shirt--one that she'd bought in New York--and now had nothing to, well, lay around and do nothing in. Narissa quickly threw the shirt off an changed to go do her laundry. Once she'd washed the orange shirt, she left it in the dryer where she'd found it, thinking that it would be ironic if its real owner were to find it.

Narissa was hurrying to put away her clothes when the door to the sleeping-area opened--not that she cared what the person thought about her. It wasn't until the intruder spoke that Narissa realized that it was the same girl as earlier. Great, Narissa thought. Now I've got to deal with the proud Roman. Of course Narissa was proud to be a Roman (who wouldn't be?), but she wasn't about to go around with her nose in the air because of it. There were many other reasons for Narissa to do that, like her hair, her clothes, her tan...

Narissa snapped out of it. The other girl had spoken, hadn't she? What was it? Oh, yeah. "Excuse me, but did you do anything productive in the past two and a half hours?" Narissa turned around, her temper heating up a little. The other girl was standing at a bunk a few feet away from Narissa's own, chugging down a water bottle like it was the last bit of liquid she would ever get. The other girl was sweaty, and had probably been training while Narissa was doing her laundry. Hm, training... A voice in the back of her head said, I should do that sometime. Narissa almost laughed at the thought, but quickly recovered her angry-face in order to reply to the girl.

"Actually, yes. I did a month's work of laundry," Narissa said it with way more attitude than the statement required. To make up for her previous failure, Narissa came up with a comeback that she hoped was witty and biting. "I see you've been drowning the arena with your sweat." For effect, Narissa gestured to the other girl's blonde helmet-hair that was plastered to her head with moisture. The blonde's shirt was soaked through in sweat, and just the thought of how that must feel was almost enough to cause Narissa to gag. Thinking she had thrown a good blow, Narissa smirked and crossed her arms, waiting for the counterattack.

((I felt mean writing this o.o))

((Whoops, wrong account... just imagine it like it had been posted as Narissa ))

((Don't feel mean, Sophie XD but this was weird writing like this O.o))

The brunette used a tone.  Calla didn't like tones coming from anyone directed at her.  The girl sounded proud, and a bit snarky, to Calla.  "Just making sure," the Legacy justified emotionlessly.  As she was leaving, the brunette said something again, and Calla responded with, "You are wearing orange, not purple," before exiting the cohort.

"You did a month's worth of laundry?" the other girl said, as if she couldn't believe that Narissa had just wasted two hours on laundry. Narissa was suddenly embarrassed for having done nothing all day, but the snarky little voice in her head said, Don't feel guilty. Today was perfect. In actuality, Narissa had been pretty bored until this little argument. The girl willed her cheeks not to turned red, and didn't reply, not that it was a big deal. The other girl was quick with a second jab.

"Be a dear, and enlighten me on how you managed to get the rank you did, will you?" the blonde said before pausing, as if considering what to say next. Narissa didn't give her the chance. "Ask the auger," Narissa said, not bothering to hide her amused snort. It was a question she considered sometimes herself, but she guessed it probably had something to do with her extreme amount of confidence or the fact that she was very good at being bossy. She had always meant to ask the Auger herself, but she hadn't seen him around camp in ages, and it probably wasn't appropriate for her to talk to someone of such high rank.

Seeming not to hear Narissa's remark, the blonde asked Narissa to rate herself on how self-centered she was. Narissa smirked. Her father had always joked that 'Narissa' and 'narcissist' sounded alike whenever she found herself in moods like today's. She let the happy memory simmer for a few short moments before conjuring her comeback. "Hm..." Narissa said, tapping her chin and glancing toward the ceiling in mock consideration. "I think I'd give myself about an eight. What would you say?" She stuck her hands on her hips and leaned toward where the other girl said, as if she cared for her answer.

The blonde was quick to reply to Narissa's jab at the girl's sweat-soaked t-shirt. Hm, Narissa thought, maybe she's actually worth arguing with after all. Anyone who could come up with quick come-backs was respected by Narissa, in a twisted sort of way: she wouldn't stop with the jabs, but she did appreciate their wit. Narissa considered what her response would be, and then it came to her. It probably wasn't the best, but it sent a sly smile across her face. "Are you insinuating that you're a guy?" The statement would probably go without reply, but Narissa didn't care much.

The blonde quickly traded her t-shirt for a tank top, but not fast enough for Narissa not to notice the way her skin stretched over her ribs, as if there was no fat there at all. It was comparable to the starving models she had seen walking the runway. Narissa wondered if her thinness was from all the training the other girl apparently did, or from something worse. Narissa decided not to comment on that. It was a touchy subject for all girls, and was not to be made fun of. Even Narissa knew that.


((I agree, it's so weird XD I'm having way too much fun with this))

One point--Calla, zero points--new girl, Calla mentally scored.  There was a hint of satisfaction in the atmosphere around the Legacy.  A smirk tried to peel its way onto her face, but she didn't let her satisfaction be known.  No response clearly meant a sore defeat.  A win Calla was happy to obtain.  This girl might have been quick to insult, or target even, bu t to reply with something that Calla has had years of experience with...Well, Calla was still waiting to see if arguing with the girl would be a good waste of time.

"Ask the Augur," the brunette responded to Calla's crude demand.  Calla found the reply a valid one, and she didn't question, until one formed in her mind.  Why was the girl here, in the Second cohort, if she didn't even know?  Calla knew why she deserved her rank, at least.  She had potential, where all of the potential she had didn't resonate during the resorting, after her return, or simply the unknown-to-her praetor knew nothing of his position.  Either of which could have been applicable.  "If anything I'd get more information on my inquiry by asking a Praetor," the Legacy replied curtly, she wasn't going to spend more  time on the matter, even if the girl tried to continue.

"An eight?" Calla echoed.  "I pegged you more eleven than eight.  But that is from what little I've seen."  A moment passed, before the Legacy added, "People say a total stranger knowns you better than yourself."  This subject Calla would also drop, unless given something more to comment about.

"Are you insinuating you're a guy?"

Nope.  She didn't just cross that line.  The sly grin was still there, taunting Calla.  The Legionnaire exhaled, and mirrored the girl's grin.  "Oh, yes, completely.  Don't you know that all men have swollen mammary  glands?" she gestured at the girl, "It appears that you also have the male misfortune."

((>.> Sorry this is so late -hides- please forgive me?))