Midas Touch (Mattie)

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Michael was getting back in the swing of things here and it felt good. Now just to check on the place. First stop had been the barracks, which were actually a touch nicer than they had been in his day. Then the baths. Oh to be able to go there again, but alas, he could only watch. Then the obstacle course. They'd added a new branch to it. Looked good and challenging. Though he was disappointed to see that fifth cohort, which was there at the time, was not doing splendidly. If only he was still in charge. He just might have to change that. But first things first.

Now the armory. He had nearly emptied it when he had gone on his quest. Looking around, it would seem they had done well restocking. Either they'd gotten it back or gotten more. Gods knew it was hard to come by. Naturally, it was not his fault it was gone to begin with. Between his weak cohort and the giant Alcyoneus, naturally it could not have come back. With the cowards behind him in battle, he had been done in. They had ruined it for him. He would have taken down that giant if it weren't for them tripping him up. Not literally of course, but may as well habe been literal. They'd gotten off well, though, from what he'd heard, in the underworld. He had taken the responsibility. Not by choice, but still.

He drew his ice caked gladius and held it up to the new ones. They looked the same, minus the ice. True to Roman form, not a single change in tradition. They couldn't use a new style, heavens no. Break the tradition? Yeah right. They wouldn't be proper Romans. He ran his hand along the length of the broad side of his gladius, though he could no longer feel the coolness of the metal. His trusty blade. Had never let him down. So to speak.

Tag: Mattie
Word Count: 329

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The young short haired brunette has accidentally broke someones gladius at the hilt during the latest training exercise for the fourth. It was the other kids fault for not getting it fixed up in the first place. Some stupid son of Venus who didn't even know how to hold a sword right. It was no excuse, it was his third year in the cohort, he should have known better. Yet, here Mattie was, going to dispose of the stupid thing because the other kid had a mental breakdown about it or something. Ugh, she hated people at times.

Mattie entered in the armory and tossed the broken sword into the scrap pile that would eventually go to the forge to be reworked on. She looked up and thats when she saw him. It wasn't her first time seeing a lar, but it washer first time being this close to one. She didn't know if it was because he was dead or if it had to do with the way he died that caused his gladius to be covered with ice. "Are you allowed to be in here?" Mattie said crossing her arms. Dead or not she didn't need him messing with the weapons that the legionnaires who were alive needed. Plus if he messed up the armory no doubt it would go up to the principia and probably stress out her older brother even more. Seriously, her brother needed less things stressing him out. He should go to an amusement park for a day or something to blow off some stress. Still, he handled himself well as a Praetor and he was someone MAttie looked up to. She wanted to follow in his shoes, even if she wasn't lucky enough to go into the first cohort and was stuck in fourth.

No matter how many times people have told her to be happy because she was a young centurion she still over analyzed anything she did during probatio to see what she did wrong during that time to end up with her in fourth. Seriously, she has stayed up some nights just wondering that. It made it worst when newcomers to the legion would question why a demigod with two war gods in her blood wasn't in first. Well gee, once she figured that out herself she'll let them know. And now, not only was she dealing with just that but ever since she had come back from being held captive she has had these weird feelings of wanting to be with someone. Probably something that was done to her. She hated it and didn't believe it when people told her it was just part of growing up.

words: 458
notes: there, she finally replied to him XD

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He heard the clatter of metal on metal first, but didn’t turn. He was dead. What could he have to fear? A smirk came to his face as he pretended not to have noticed, still examining his own gladius. Then the intruder spoke and he wiped the smirk from his face. Not because he felt less cruel, but perhaps the opposite actually. He turned, his phantom praetor’s cape and pin glittering with the ice that coated his armor too. The voice was confirmed: it was just a little girl. He almost ignored her, until he saw the pin she was wearing. A centurion. Well, he’d been wanting to know more about the current leadership of this place, so perhaps this was a good place to start. He couldn’t fault the child for her rank, since he too had been young when he was a centurion. So he smiled kindly, or at least as kindly as was possible for him. “I am, actually, though admittedly, I haven’t sought permission. I should think a harmless ghost should be allowed in his former home though. Besides, not like I can do any damage.” He reached for one of the gladiuses and his hand went straight through the hilt. He looked back to her and shrugged. “See? I couldn’t if I wanted to. All I have is the one I died with.” Speaking of that one, he decided if he was going for the harmless ghost gig, he best be rid of it, or at least make it look like less of a threat, so he resheathed it.

He straightened up to how he usually carried himself, which was more than a little pompously. “I assure you, Centurion, that I mean no ill will here. Actually, you quite remind me of myself. Young – no offense – yet already on a path to success. A true Roman.” While he didn’t always agree that leadership in the military was a place for women, he saw potential in this young lady. Not potential for good leadership, though. Just potential to be used to Michael’s own ends. If he were still alive, he would have taken a nice deep breath right about now, for dramatic effect, but he was far too used to not breathing. And let’s face it, there were some who were unnerved by someone who did not breathe. Win-win. “Forgive me, how rude I am. Michael Varus, son of Janus, fifth cohort, praetor of the Legion in the mid-1980s. I’d shake your hand, but for obvious reasons…”

Tag: Mattie
Word Count: 421
Notes: short, sorry

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Mattie rolled her eyes as the ghost drowned on. Not that it wasn't interesting, he just seemed a tad bit haughty for her taste. But at least she knew he wasn't here to totally wreck havoc in the armory. That was good, if he had been well she supposed she would have had to unfortunately find one of those blasted descendants of Pluto to send him back to wherever the ghost belong. How did they manage to get out from the Underworld anyway? Did they have to ask permission or did they all just escape? If it was the latter than she was seriously concerned over their security in the land of the dead.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm just hoping to make praetor one day." Mattie said with a shrug. Then what he said next surprised her. No, the name didn't bring any recollection to her. It was the fact he had been from the fifth cohort and managed to make it to praetor. She thought that was near impossible. After all, the past couple praetors they have had had been from the first or second cohort. She thought that was some hidden rule to pass in order to even become a praetor. But here, right in front of her in his transparent glory was a praetor from the fifth. "Sorry, did you saw you were from the fifth? But... I thought only the higher ups became a praetor. I'm in the fourth and thought I would never get the chance. Though everyone tells me not to worry about it too much I can't help it. All my family members are in higher cohorts too. My brother, he was in first, he is the praetor now. He' the scarier looking one." Mattie rambled.

Realizing she was rambling she stopped talking and waited to see his reaction. He probably knew of the recent praetors. Heck is she had just come back from the dead she would want to see who was in charge now. See if they were doing a better job than she was capable or if she was still the best they had managed to give that title too. Then again, people were all different. He could care less about those in charge and just decided to ignore their existence completely. Who knew, maybe since she finally stopped talking to give him a chance she'll find out.

words: 411
notes: I AM SO SORRY!!! I couldn't find this thread >_<

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Michael watched her closely as he spoke, even though he tried not to make his observation obvious. Corner of his eye, that sort of thing. She was an interesting one. He had meant his words when he said she reminded him of himself. She could go far, this one. She just needed a little… guidance. Good thing he was here to help. Now he’d just have to convince her of that. Now that might be interesting. So far she seemed hardly at all interested in him besides the fact of whether or not he meant any harm here. Boring. “You strike me as the sort whom it would be foolish not to promote.” A little ego-building for the shrimp couldn’t hurt, right?

Then, when he kept talking, he noticed her mood shift abruptly. She didn’t hide it very well. He could practically see the gears in her head switching to overkill mode. He held back a smirk. Perfect. Instead, he smiled pleasantly and nodded. “You heard me right. I was in fifth. There’s nothing saying someone in the lower cohorts can’t rise. And you’re in fourth, which is even better than where I was coming from.” He chuckled. “Scarier looking one, eh? I’ll keep my eyes peeled. But back to current matters. I see no reason you should worry. You have a lot of promise in you, and that coming from someone who only just met you.” He looked her over as if assessing her for leadership qualities, and nodded. “Ignore what the others say about you. Ignore where your siblings are. You need to focus on yourself and getting to where you want to be. There, I can help you. I’ve climbed that ladder before and I know where the key steps are. Though before I go any further into this offer, I should probably ask your name. I hardly know anything about you besides that you are centurion of fourth and understandably protective of the weapons stash.” He smiled as if sharing a slight joke in this and his dead eyes sparkled. Yes, he had much practice in pretend. He liked to think he could make people believe whatever he liked. He could in life, so why couldn’t he in death?

He paused at the sight of someone walking past the armory a ways off. Well out of earshot, but that was besides the point. “Oh, and I might add… if you don’t mind, not mentioning my name to others too much. I’m, how would you say, on probationary stay here, so trying to keep something of a low profile. It would seem my name has been tarnished since my days here, so I’m doing what I can to bring it back, but it’s slow going.” Did he mention he was fluent in lying? Though the best lies had a hint of truth. He was keeping a somewhat lower profile in the interest of Pluto of Mors not finding him. And he did believe that his tarnished reputation was not his fault, though the rational part of him that worked to justify that had died in Tartarus and left just the maniacal denial.

Tag: Mattie
Word Count: 525
Notes: Sorry this is so late!

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Having your ego raised was definitely a good feeling. She couldn't help but hold a proud smile on her face. He was right, of course, even if she never admitted it due to her siblings, but hearing someone say it was definitely a good feeling. Honestly, he could keep at this all day. She wouldn't complain. Just keep telling her how awesome and amazing she was. People thought Remus had a Caesar complex, they obviously haven't met Matilda Blair.

Then he brought up a good point. She hadn't exactly introduced herself. More like she just kind of told him to get lost or she'd impale him with her sword. Yes yes, she knew that since he was a ghost he couldn't technically be impaled but the thought was still there regardless. "Since it is such an enticing offer that I must absolutely accept. I suppose I can let you know my name. Matilda Blair, centurion of the fourth cohort of the Roman legion, daughter of Mars and legacy of Bellona. Though, call me Mattie, Matilda doesn't sound threatening, too girly." Mattie said with a slight wrinkle of her nose. Not that she absolutely loathed her name. It was just easier to take the tomboy route and go with a short nickname that didn't sound too girly. She loved her name, her mom would tell her how it meant warrior and how she was her little warrior. Those were on her moms good days, before things got really bad. Luckily that was all in the past now. She liked to think her mom went for rebirth so that she could go to Elysium after the number of rebirths she had left.

She knit her eyebrows at his request though. It was odd. But, she was desperate for help so she would gladly keep his name a secret. Not like she gossiped about her life with anyone. Her closest friends were her cousin and brother. Sure she also talked to Clare and Eve from time to time, less Eve now, but she wanted to give her a second chance anyway. "That's fine. I don't gossip about stuff anyway. I wouldn't recommend becoming friends with any Venus kids then. All they do is talk. I have a good handful in the fourth and they never want to train. Too worried about messing up their hair or clothes." Mattie stated with an annoyed huff. She doubt that has changed though since the ghost had been in camp. Venus kids all seemed to be the same. Using their mothers gift to climb up the ladder and get the easy way out. Much like that girl from third. She got knocked up by Jupiter and probably expected incentives from him later on while still leading on the son of Pluto. Oh well, she wasn't a huge fan of Venus of Pluto kids so in her opinion she was happy if they all ended up depressed.

words: 496
notes: insert a billion apologies

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Michael smiled, half to himself, as she took up his offer. Excellent. Little runt who didn’t know her history would be perfect. Mixture of ambition and actual talent. She’d be wonderful. For him. He inclined his head. “Pleasure, Miss Blair. That’s quite an impressive heritage you have there. No wonder leadership suits you so well. In my humble opinion, it’s the lesser-appreciated gods and their descendants who should be honored. This place owes its debt more to your immortal family than to the one it’s actually named after.” He waved a hand. “But I digress. So you don’t mind my calling you Mattie? Well then, you may call me Michael. I’m afraid I never was one for nicknames. For much the same reason as you are for them. Mike seems too… Greek.”

He could see the confusion play across her face at his request, but thankfully she seemed to think nothing of it really. Some would think that cause for concern, but not her, bless her naïve heart. He was never a great liar, just a good riddler really, what with his father’s own crazy obsession with it. But lying? No. That was why he inserted truth in his words. His name was tarnished since he’d been there last? Very true. Considering the action that had given him the horrible name had happened in Alaska and he never made it back to Camp Jupiter. To technically, the last time he was here, he was not a monster. Yet. He nodded at her words. “So things have not changed, have they? Venus’ spawn were worth nothing in my day either. Little thorns with big egos, them. The only thing they ever amounted to was entertainment with how awful they were in the war games.” Which was so true. He remembered watching an eighteen year old male Venus spawn actually cry from a bit of mud on his face. So Michael took it upon himself to shove him into a bigger mud puddle and give him a week of dish duty for being a pansy. Ah, those were the days.

Words: 348
Tag: @matilda
Notes: SO LATE…and short