Katie's bunk

Katie looked at her allocated bunk and found herself unimpressed. A simple bed and storage, it was certainly nothing to her bedroom at home in New Rome and she would have to make it more her. Setting her bag down, she took out a few of her things, slipping her gold hairclip-shield into her hair, taking a photo of her, her parents and a few of the cats and setting it on top of the beside storage; she'd have to go to the armory for a proper weapon later. It wasn't much, but with a little more work it could feel more like home.

Sitting down on the bed, she glanced across at her fellow legionnaires. She recognized a few from seeing their faces around in New Rome, but there were many she didn't, including those right next to her. Hopefully she'd know them soon; she was, after all, going to be fighting with them.

Smoothing down her rebellious light brown curls and purple Camp Jupiter t-shirt, she wondered what exactly she was meant to do next.

Tiberia walked over to Katie. Being from New Rome herself, she had known the girl here and there, seen her at school, etc. Since Tiberia and her siblings were known for being descendants of Neptune (who wasn't necessarily the best godly ancestor to have around), they had often been teased by the other kids but that hadn't stopped their competitive mindset. Fortunately, her father's side of the family was known under a better light, which had helped her get into the Third Cohort and not end up in the Filthy Fifth.

"Hey Katie," she said. "Welcome to the legion, I'm your optio. You got your probatio tablet yet?"

OOC: She has an Arabic complexion with deep blue eyes, a rather muscular body and black curls swept up in a ponytail. She's wearing a purple camp tee, camouflage trousers and combat boots.

Katie glanced up at - Arabic, blue eyes, muscular, black curly hair - Tiberia, a girl she knew from New Rome, and smiled. "Yeah," she said, pulling the tablet from her bag and waving it slightly. "I need to grab a good sword from the armory at some point, but that's it."

She used to have a sword, her father's old one, but it wasn't a particularly good one nor was it quite the right size for her. She still had her mother's hairclip-shield, though.

"You should hang it around your neck," Tiberia said, talking about the probatio tablet. "As for your sword, that can be arranged. Stand up. How tall are you?"

"Oh, right," she said, doing so with the tablet. "I was getting annoyed at some woodpeckers, I forgot." At Tiberia's second request, she stood. "5'5" at the last measurement."

"Mm. Size five should do. Come with me."

Leading her out of the barracks, she went towards the armory, where two lares were having a heated argument. Politely nodding at them, she went over to the holders and selected a gladius. "How does this one feel?"

Glancing briefly at the lares, she took the sword offered to her and made a few practise cuts with it, elegant strokes that neatly dodged the surrounding people, weapons and armour. "It would do, but if there was a slightly longer one it would have better reach."

Tiberia browsed through the size 6 swords before handing her one. It was a standard gladius, the blade made of glowing imperial gold, the handle polished wood.

"What about this?"

Katie gave it a few experimental moves, light glinting off the Imperial gold, and grinned, her Mars blood coming through. "I like this one."

OOC: Ares?

BIC: Tiberia nodded with a smile. "Then it's yours. Just sign it up: you see this little number on the pommel? Write it down on the register over there next to your name and Cohort," she said, pointing over to a booklet sitting on a desk.

OOC: Sorry, got my Greeks and Romans mixed up. Now edited.

Walking over to the booklet, she picked up the pen and wrote. While she still had dyslexia like most with godly blood, it was mild because she was a legacy and she had had the not often seen opportunity for a full education. Katie Rider, Third Cohort.

She looked to Tiberia expectantly. "I'm not exactly sure what I should be doing day to day?" She knew roughly from her parents' stories but not for sure, as she had never really left New Rome to visit the military camp; the fault was in her mother's overprotectiveness.