Like once every week, the campers of the Minor War Gods cabin had their lesson in the forge with the Hephaestus cabin. Falko was not very good at forging, she always burned or bruised herself somehow and the heat was just unsustainable there -- in short: she didn't like it, but was forced to whole herself to that place whether she wanted to or not.
There were not a lot of Campers in the Minor War Gods cabin -- well, not when compared to the Apollo, Ares, Athena or Aphrodite -- and they were clearly outnumbered by the Hephaestus guys.
Falko hoped that today's work would not damage her clothes too much: she was wearing a red punk shirt with a snarling demon skull, a white pair of designer trousers, a slim, cappuccino-colored belt with a golden buckle, combat boots and a delicate yellow gauze shawl that she took from her shoulders to wrap around her waist. She had some fashionable bracelets around her wrists and punk rings on her fingers, whilst a red-and-black make-up retraced and defined her Asian eyes.
The moment she stepped into the Armory, the wave of heat hit her like a backhand blow. She had the impression of being right in front of an oven, if not inside.
There were not a lot of Campers in the Minor War Gods cabin -- well, not when compared to the Apollo, Ares, Athena or Aphrodite -- and they were clearly outnumbered by the Hephaestus guys.
Falko hoped that today's work would not damage her clothes too much: she was wearing a red punk shirt with a snarling demon skull, a white pair of designer trousers, a slim, cappuccino-colored belt with a golden buckle, combat boots and a delicate yellow gauze shawl that she took from her shoulders to wrap around her waist. She had some fashionable bracelets around her wrists and punk rings on her fingers, whilst a red-and-black make-up retraced and defined her Asian eyes.
The moment she stepped into the Armory, the wave of heat hit her like a backhand blow. She had the impression of being right in front of an oven, if not inside.