by Morgan Landry 3/1/2015, 6:15 pm
OOC: Ohey :) I'm jumping in with Morgan, my daughter of Hecate, and Sawyer, my daughter of Hephaestus.
BIC: Guard duty was one of the activities I usually least looked forward to, especially when they were at 7 am like today. You just stood there for an hour straight, doing nothing except leaning on your spear and gazing at the horizon. Sure sometimes stuff happened like a monster attacking or demigod making it to camp with their protector satyrs, but that rarely happened on my times.
I sat down on a rock next to Thalia's pine tree and petted Peleus' snout, the Golden Fleece glittering above me in the light of dawn. I was wearing a Muse tee shirt with a pair of denim shorts, my black jacket over my shoulders and combat boots at my feet. My dark hair was pulled up into a ponytail, the tips tickling the base of my spine.
Fortunately, I wasn't alone: Sawyer from the Hephaestus' had been assigned to guard duty with me. The first times I had seen her, I couldn't have stopped myself from staring, which must've been rather rude of me. She was a huge piece of a girl, towering at almost two meters height with a build worthy of Arnold Schwarzenegger, her back and shoulders broadened by layers of muscles, her chunky abs straining the front of her shirts and her huge biceps rolling under her skin. But the worst was her face. It was half-burned so I always had the impression the left side of it was melting, with eyes on two different levels, bushy eyebrows, a nose that looked like she had broken it twice and a crooked mouth formed by a pair of really chapped lips. She was easily the most hideous person I had ever met.
As for who she was, behind all that mass of brawn and muscles, well, I actually really liked her. She was chill and laid-back and had this knack for mechanics all children of Hephaestus have. If she didn't watch out, she could go on and on about rotordynamics and mechatronics. But that was okay with me, I always liked to learn new stuff.
Sawyer was letting her gaze sweep across the treetops, listening for any suspect sound. She had borrowed a spear from the armory for this, as she actually didn't own one -- all she needed for fighting was her shield and her ax.
The daughter of Hephaestus was dressed in a graphic shirt from Corpus-Christi with a pair of camouflage trousers and hiking boots, the wounds and blisters on her rough copper skin glistening up in the sunlight. Her greasy black hair was pulled back by her U.S. Army bandanna though she still had to tuck rebellious streaks behind her ears every few minutes. She would've actually preferred to stay at the forge or in her cabin to tinker on her projects but she understood guard duty had to be done so she hadn't complained.
She was just about to stab her spear into the ground and go sit next to Morgan when movement caught her eye.
"Hey, look at this," the Latino girl said in her Texas accent, walking forward.
A guy, about fourteen or fifteen, was making his way up towards the hill. His blonde hair gleamed up in the early sunlight. His shirt was torn and his wounds looked rather serious -- of course, nothing a reasonable dose of ambrosia or nectar couldn't heal, but still, his scars looked nasty.
"Hey!" I called at him, standing up to jog down the hill, my sword tapping against my leg with each of my steps. There was no satyr with him, which made my heart clench a bit. Satyrs were really brave creatures, they gave everything up and put their lives in danger to help young demigods make it... but sometimes they didn't make it with them. Nonetheless I gave him a welcoming smile before taking in his wounds. "Okay, we gotta get you to the infirmary. How are you feeling?"