It's an annual thing ((Sarpedon))

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It's an annual thing ((Sarpedon))

Post by Guest on Wed Mar 11, 2015 10:01 pm

Life at Camp Jupiter could get monotonous from time to time. It was always the same schedule every day, usually with little to no variation for Cicero. He’d perfected his daily schedule over years of slight tweaks and adjustments at the Camp Jupiter in California, and one he’d found his rhythm he’d stuck to it consistently. Why mess with the perfect balance? His schedule, while heavily focused on different forms of training, also allowed for other activities, including guard duty and time set aside for non-training activities (otherwise he’d just burn out). It had been less intensive when he’d had training partners and such, but he’d adjusted accordingly so as to make the most out of his day. He could be described as a productive person, or at the very least the kind that doesn’t waste their time.

All this in mind, when a special day interjected amongst the average ones, it was worth paying attention to. On the camp-wide level, Romans definitely knew how to party and make the most of festival days. On a more individual level, Cero found his own ways to take time off and celebrate said special days. In this particular occasion, although he hadn’t meant to seen, Cicero had noticed it was a certain person’s birthday recently. Although it was hard to have privacy when one lived in the barracks, he had always done his best to give people their shreds of privacy. But when it came to locating Sarpedon, Cicero often found himself consulting the calendar by the legacy’s bunk bed for clues to his location.

The two boys had different training schedules, so Cero didn’t see much of Sarpedon, but from the interactions they’d had Cero had enjoyed the departure from his somewhat monotonous life. It was nice to have found another guy amongst the apparent sea of women in Camp Jupiter, so Cicero took advantage of that and the fact that they shared a cohort. This particular occasion in checking the calendar, Cero had noticed Sarpedon’s birthday marked a couple days earlier to this day. It was the first he’d heard of a birthday, so he imagined not much had been celebrated. And in the spirit of friendship, Cero had decided to find some time to congratulate Sarpedon on surviving another year.

It had been the morning then, so the Roman had gone through his daily schedule, cutting it off a bit short so he could prepare some measly thing for Sarpedon. It basically consisted of a blueberry muffin in lieu of a birthday cake (because as Romans they really couldn’t indulge in an overly lavish diet), and Cicero waiting on his bunk in the First cohort barracks for Sarpedon to come around. Cero wasn’t expecting the other boy for some time, but he really wasn’t in the mood to start some long activity in the meantime (because between training with weapons and preparing to do so and showering afterwards, it was just too much time). The boy instead turned his attention to polishing his armor as he waited. The activity, while also taking time to complete, could be easily set aside and continued another time. Cicero was mostly just worried about leaving the muffin unattended. It wasn’t as big a problem as it was in California, but things tended to go missing in the barracks, especially food. Breakfast and dinner were the main meals of the day, but young Romans who spend all day training do get hungry easily.

So, with one eye on the blueberry muffin and the other focused on his task, Cicero patiently waited for Sarpedon to return to the barracks.

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Re: It's an annual thing ((Sarpedon))

Post by Sarpedon Illicon on Wed Mar 11, 2015 10:48 pm

Dedication. Loyalty. Devotion. Those were the three most vital aspects of one's life.

Dedication: It was vital for functioning in society, and as a Demigod, functioning and contributing to Camp Jupiter. Pure effort could count for a lot, and if one burned all their energy on self improvement and the improvement of their cause, then they wouldn't have any energy or time to waste on other meaningless things.

Loyalty: A passion, a mission, a place to call home, a group of people to call family. The ties that bonded Demigods together was their most powerful asset, their most important strength. The willingness to do whatever it takes for those around you had to always be in your heart.

Devotion: Honouring the Gods. Honouring each other. Honouring yourself. All of these must be done, and in that order. The Gods came first; without them, none of the Demigods would have life. The Gods had the power to support or destroy their home. The tradition went back thousands of years, and tradition had power. Ritual had power. There were great cycles of history, and the Gods had no small hand in them.

That last one was the reason Saar had spent some extra time after dinner at the Temple to Mars; he sat silent for most of that time, but had brought an offering. Saar brought his favourite food to be burned at the altar's flames, and he brought his time - his most precious commodity. There never seemed to be enough time in the day to get everything done, and the blonde demigod didn't waste any idly. He'd survived to eighteen, and that was worth thanks in itself. He promised if he'd make it, he'd pray for an hour extra every night for each year he survived. Hear that Mars? Let me reach three hundred and sixty five, and I'll be praying every day!

The days were long, sure, but they were certainly worth it; Saar hadn't felt so healthy in... well, ever. Things were simple here. You trained all day, and if you wanted to better yourself academically, you did it in the evening. Then you slept. Done. Studying in the lamp light of the library was a great way to wind down as well; you got to release your imagination and let it run wild, reading Ovid, Livy, Cicero, the list went on! How could anyone tire of the options available? Saar could spend a whole lifetime in that library, pouring over ancient manuscripts and copies of famous works.

Plus, Ronnie was often there.

Heading back to the first Cohort, he rolled a few of his muscles out, making sure they wouldn't sneak up on him and cramp out. The most important part of an intense and continuous training regimen was the ability to keep going, day in, day out. Going eighty percent for a month was far better than going full out for a week; you had to play the long term. Saar could feel the day's accumulated grime coating his skin, coating his clothes, coating his gear. He had about an hour and a half to clean everything back up to parade standard before heading over to the library. Pushing the door open, he paused in the entrance way, waiting for his eyes to adjust; it was an old habit of his, one that had one purpose: survival.

The barracks were pretty empty; by his count, the only other demigod present was Cicero. The descendant of Torquatas was cleaning his armour, and Saar had to approve. If there was any other Roman here he respected, it would be that man. He ticked all three boxes, dedicated, loyal and devoted. Stepping inside, he pushed the door closed with his foot, and greeted the seated demigod with a wave and a yawn. Well - yawn - met. Long day?
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Re: It's an annual thing ((Sarpedon))

Post by Guest on Thu Mar 12, 2015 6:20 pm

Cicero was kept waiting for some time, longer than he’d originally expected to wait but not long enough for him to lose the determination to see this task through. It had unfortunately been raining the last time Cero had been on guard duty, and in order to prevent the armor from rusting the Roman was forced to scrub heavily and wish he had something better to clean with than an old rag. In California, proper armor maintenance had been a very important priority for the legion, and there were always sufficient materials to do it properly. If there was something like that here, Cero had yet to find it. In the meanwhile, he had simply used somewhat acceptable substitutes, which were enough to keep the armor clean but not to make it shine like it used to.

It was very easy to get distracted while doing tasks like this, but Cero forced himself to never let his mind wander. At times, he could be a very single-task-oriented person, and it was hard for him to focus on completing other tasks until the current one was done. It wasn’t the fact that he couldn’t do more than one thing; the boy had simply found that he could deliver better quality things if he spent more time on them individually. This was also his strategy when it came to cleaning armor. There were quite a few pieces to a complete suit, and to clean properly would mean investing a lot of time. So, the solution? Taking the job on one piece at a time, from one end of the suit to the other.

This was another monotonous task Cicero was faced with, but thankfully not something he took on every day. Cero could track the time spent on this project by the amount of sunlight (or lack of) streaming through the windows. It had begun to get dark, and the boy was wondering whether he should simply try again another day. He wasn’t ordinarily the type to give up, at anything, but in terms of practicality he would like to maximize how he spent his time. Spending the evening in the barracks didn’t exactly qualify as such. Setting aside his gauntlets, Cero bent over the calendar to see if he’d mixed up the dates, or gotten some times wrong. After a few moments examining the paper, he let out a slow exhale and moved back to his bunk. Maybe he could stay a little longer before he caved and left the barracks to do something else.

Thankfully, after that decision Cero wasn’t kept waiting much longer. After some time, heavy footsteps suggested someone was approaching the barracks door. It wasn’t uncommon for people to come and go from the barracks, so he didn’t have high hopes that these footsteps belonged to the person he was waiting for. Still, he was relieved when Sarpedon entered, obviously fresh from training. If the disheveled clothes didn’t say anything, the smell did (although Cero couldn’t really complain, he was probably just as bad after his training). At Sarpedon’s greeting, Cicero raised a hand in return, setting aside the armor. “Tedious,” he responded to Sarpedon’s question. The boy didn’t have much to say on an ordinary day. He was usually forced to say more as the conversation continued, but for now he’d enjoy being able to give short, efficient answers.

His eyes glanced over Sarpedon’s appearance, and Cero gave a mental nod at that. So many demigods in this new Camp Jupiter spent the day doing gods-know-what, so it was nice to see someone taking their training seriously. Sometimes it felt like Cicero was alone in that endeavor. He picked up the muffin so Sarpedon could see its outline. “Noticed it was your birthday recently. Had a good one?”

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Re: It's an annual thing ((Sarpedon))

Post by Sarpedon Illicon on Thu Apr 02, 2015 12:03 pm

(( o.O Sorry I took so long; final papers, then couch hopping then flying, but I'm settled in now!))

Saar's eyes glazed over as he crossed the courtyard in front of the barracks, remembering the week he'd spent in Rome. Rome senior, the original, the city whose ancient bones dated back past the Etruscan kings of old. He'd walked through ancient tunnels, eaten in battered cellars of once great buildings and bathed in the history that battered down at his soul. It was saddening though to see what once had been great reduced to the state it was in. The mighty Theatre of Pompey, now a street of cheap houses and cheaper hotels. The Forum, once the centre of the world, a broken ruin where the leeches of the world would come to ogle. There are very few times in his life where Saar had broken the law, but he'd broken into a temple to Mithras and had sat there the whole night, feeling the weight of the past crash down on his shoulders.

What had once been great, can become so again. He'd made that oath to the Gods that night, swearing that he would restore some of the glory of Rome. To do that though, he'd needed to study up, he'd needed to learn more about what had made Rome such a force, about their values, their customs, their traditions, about their beliefs, their hopes, their dreams, about their fears, their history and their culture. Only once one knew where they'd come from, could they know where they were going. Especially if they were trying to return there.

Some people understood that, others didn't. There was so much more to the Ancient World than most could possibly imagine; so many little factors, so many little details that nudge things oh so slightly. If one could understand the effect that they all had, understand how they shaped the course of history, then one could try to guide the world back to that place, knowing the steps it had taken. First thing's first though. He pushed open the door to the barracks, pausing;it was certainly time to clean the armour; one has to take things one at a time, lest they overstep themselves and go beyond what is capable at the moment, ruining the potential opportunity from ever coming to be.

Cero had a good head on his shoulders; he didn't waste words and he knew where the wind was blowing. Sensible. Level-headed. Roman. A hint of a smile touched Saar's lips; any complaining the descendant of Torquatas did was well earned and not done with any malice or bitterness. It was more a detached sort of review than a demigod unhappy with their lot.

A little surprised by his Cohort mate's observation, Saar gave the question a moments thought. He hadn't thought anyone would care; he'd only marked it on the calender to remind himself about the promise he'd made to Mars. Back at home, birthdays hadn't really been a thing people got worked up about, but Saar did have to acknowledge the ritual that came with the big milestones. Aye, well enough. I made it after all. Catching a glimpse of a baked good in Cero's hand, the Legacy of Mars didn't give it another thought while he headed over to his bunk and dropped his bag by the bedside table. Laying his helmet down carefully by his treasured candle, he turned back to the son of Bacchus. Up to anything interesting?
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