First Day in Hell ((Sarpedon))

Saar rolled his shoulders, scanning the undergrowth in the distance for any signs of a disturbance. Raising his gaze to the sky, a small smile touched his lips as he realised it was almost noon and the end of his shift. Sure, he was more than happy to do his share, but he hadn't slept very well the night before, and his shoulders were feeling pretty tight; there wasn't very much he could do about it while he was armoured up and on duty though. The midday heat didn't really bother him though, even in full battle attire; he'd spent most of his life growing up in a desert, and the puny New York sun merely tickled the back of his neck.

A demigod climbed his way up to the battlements; Saar didn't really recognise him so he merely nodded his thanks and descended from his post. The blonde teen had gotten pretty good at completing his report while actually on duty, and all he had to do now was turn it in. Jogging over to the building, Saar trundled straight past a girl overburdened with suitcases. Tempted to help her, he almost paused, before shaking off the feeling and continuing on towards the Praetors' office. He felt pretty bad for bypassing the girl, but it was his duty to get the report in as soon as possible, and neglecting it was pretty unthinkable to the blonde demigod. Shoving the door open, he swept through the room swiftly, placing his report in Kirill's box, before heading back out. A hot shower certainly was in order to loosen the muscles. Stepping back into the sunlight, Saar grinned as the warmth washed over him. In the distance, the girl was still struggling, well, more than struggling now. As he watched, she went crashing down to her knees. Well, no excuses this time.

Saar's boots crunched into the ground, the sound carrying forward as he strode over. Closing the distance between the pair gave him time to examine the newcomer; the sunlight was really highlighting her grey eyes and red hair. Trying to make sure he didn't look too closely at the contents of her cases, he wondered why she had so much stuff. Saar had backpacked across the states with one extra pair of clothes, a torch, a broken hockey stick, a sleeping bag and the last remnants of his savings. It had always been a mystery to him as to why girls owned so many pairs of shoes and dresses and stuff. Who knew? Saar crouched down a few feet away, the height difference between them seemed a little too much otherwise. His speech was characteristically slow, and also calm and precisely picked. Need a hand? Which Cohort are you in?

Saar wasn't great with awkward pauses, but he had a lot of experience with them; the blonde demigod spoke with absolute precision in mind, as if he had an intense life-time word limit restriction, thus hoarding his words like gold. It did mean that he often paused to ensure that the words leaving his mouth were the ones he wanted to be heard, and not the ones that managed to escape without foresight guiding their departure. The girl seemed suspicious of him though, a pretty understandable line of reasoning to be honest, so Saar flashed her a quick smile. Sadly, it was as calculated as his words, so it probably didn't come off very well.

The Second Cohort was one of the more experienced ones, so the Praetor's seemed to be spreading out the newcomers pretty evenly. Each Cohort had to be able to stand toe to toe with the others, and as it was, the first two Cohorts were more powerful. However, the strength of a unit was as vulnerable as its weakest link, and if this girl couldn't match up to the intense training of her cohort, then the group as a whole would suffer. But that was the risk Camp Jupiter had to take every time they accepted a new recruit. It was an investment of sorts; the Cohort in question would be weakened until the newcomer had settled in and worked out how to be the best soldier they could be. After that, the group as a whole would reach a new level of potential with the greater numbers. Saar could safely say that he'd settled in pretty quickly, but everyone's adjustment period was different. A lot of the training exercises were similar to the one's Saar had practiced growing up playing rugby, but not everyone would have that wealth of experience to fall back upon.

Waiting patiently while she gathered her fallen belongings, Saar eyed her other suitcases for a moment. The blonde demigod was at an impasse with himself, trying to decide whether he should showoff and carry all her bags one handed or not. Perhaps it was the way he'd been examining the bags, but the girl was pretty defensive about her belongings. I'm sure you do. It wasn't what he'd meant to suggest, but every now and then he'd forget about one of his favourite quotes: " Even silence can speak volumes." Had his reply come off as sarcastic? Meh, he was probably over-thinking things; nothing was new on that front then. I am Sarpedon Legionnaire Illicon. Most people call me Saar. Deciding against the show of strength, Saar grabbed the straps of both suitcase separately, and straightened back up in one smooth motion making sure he lifted with his legs. People often underestimated the power of the thigh, but every Rugby player knew it was the most important one in the body. Using the momentum of the lift, Saar swung the heavier bag up and onto his shoulder, balancing it with his arm. The blonde demigod slid the straps of the other one over his neck before turning to look back at the girl. (( I assumed that since she was carrying both, that they were kinds of duffel bags? Or ones without wheels and perhaps larger handles/straps? I hope you don't mind too much.))

This way to the barracks. Saar would like to see he'd been able to navigate the layout of camp perfectly the moment he arrived, but sadly he hadn't. It was pretty weird, but the blue eyed demigod had a perfect sense of direction, but he could never remember the layout of anything. Give him a map though and he could lead you through Hades and out again. He'd been heading over to the barracks anyway, and the weight of the bags weren't really slowing him down at all. All in all, the detour wasn't that far out of the way; the Second Cohort's living quarters was pretty close to his own. Welcome to Camp Jupiter.

(Don't worry about it =P ))