Crime and Punishment [open

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Charlie was in a horrible mood. To say that her cohort was paying for it was an understatement. Right now, there were three people, a few who had dared to harass her while they were training, not only did they end up doing push ups till their arms were sore, but now they were going to keep with the punishment. The large armory of the Roman Legion stood there before her, she narrowed her eyes as the three miscreants, a legacy of Mercury, a Legacy of Jupiter and a legacy of Mars (nephew?) who had thought to try to challenge her. If they thought she was just going to lay down and take that disrespect laying down, they had another thing coming. Discipline, that was what these idiots needed. She'd let Lilith know and spring another forty-eight hour drill on the cohort for more punishment. If they could police each other, then there wasn't going to be a problem any more with discipline. Most of the people that were in her cohort were good, strong, but with Fifth coming up closely behind, with Ronan and Josh, she couldn't afford to let her guard down. They had to keep on their toes.

So as to the disrespectful lot that was standing in front of her, she crossed her arms as she surveyed the bruised faces, split lips and nursing bloody noses, she gave the trio a death glare. "You will sharpen, polish and maintain every single piece of weapon and armour in this Armory till I am satisfied. Then you'll have to make sure that Ronan is satisfied with your own work." She stated with a venemous tone of voice. She meant business. No one was going to talk to her like that, not even her idiot of a brother Remus talked to her like that and he was a praetor for crying out loud. So as the group set to work, she started to service her own weapons. She wouldn't trust anyone else with her special weapons, not that they were inheriantly magical, one was a gift from her dad for becoming centurion. The sword was black as night, the one side sharp for cutting, slashing, the other edge was serrated to make it more painful when she pulled her sword out. She serviced it herself, a piece of weaponary that needed to be taken care of as it was precious to her. "I don't hear the whetstones...." She called out as she glared at them, watching them scramble to get to work.

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i'm a  g h o s t  with a beating heart (i don't even have one of those) Edmund had returned to the forge. Not a huge surprise; he only stayed out for three weeks, which could be considered an improvement compared to how long he had been out the previous time. This time it had only been three weeks: while he and Josh got used to life without Rhia. Well, of course they'd never get used to it persay... they'd just... keep on living, kinda. If only just for Art. Edmund had just convinced himself he was fine (shocker); he had to keep it together for Josh and Art... and himself. Because deep down he knew, if he let himself fell apart now, he had zero chance of getting it together again. And quite frankly, he was exhausted of everything. Of losing family members, of fighting, of living... So he convinced himself to run on autopilot. No emotions. No pain. He was vaguely surprised when it worked; when he felt nothing after Rhia's death. Still, he didn't want to think on it too long, less he think too hard about it and reverse any effects. It wasn't that hard to do, he had things to keep him busy 24/7: taking care of Art during the day, self training and forging during the night. What was sleep and eating anyway? Not that he had slept or ate a lot to begin with... Cinny whirred to life beside him, making Ed look up from the toy car he had been fixing. Gods only knew how it started, but New Rome kids had started coming to the Rogers's door months ago, asking him to fix their broken toys. He couldn't imagine the parents had been happy about it... they probably thought Ed had corrupted it or placed explosives in them. No matter how much Ed had tried to shoo them away though... no avail. The small shredder clicked to him and rolled towards the door connecting the forge and armory. "Fine... fine..." Ed muttered rising from his seat and walking towards the door. As he approached, he heard a voice: one that could never be so easily erased from his memory... He had lived with it shouting at him for seven years: Jolly. He exhaled slightly and opened the connecting door. The sight that met his eyes was quite reminiscent: bruises, cuts, split lips, and some of the cohort doing punishment. "Who's replaced me as largest dissenter?" he asked dryly, ignoring the glares and stares that the newer people of the cohort gave him. Those who back talked Jolly were few and far between. They were cruising for a bruising and a glutton for punishment. He knew. He had been one of them. They were either brave, crazy, or stupid. He had considered himself part of the latter two groups. COMMENTARIUM: haha we haven't had these two in a looong time xD how things have changed lol VERBA: 461

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She felt as if she could just sleep that day away. That maybe if she kept going, she'd be able to push the feelings away so she wouldn't feel anything. There was a good deal of emotions going on in her mind, each one of them she hated, but Charlie reckoned that she felt the negative emotions so much more strongly because that's what her father was associated with. Fear, Anger, Hatred, that was what fueled the wars that were fought. Don't get her wrong, she understood the value of love, friendship, caring, things of that nature, but at the same time, she didn't understand them as easy as she did the others. Mors was gone. That was the end of it. And apparently he had taken Tessa, Rhiannon, people that meant a good deal to people around here. It wasn't so much that the accumulation of the amount of sudden deaths that did it, no, it was the fact that he vanished, never came back, not so much as a word.

Charlie had moved on in her own way. She pushed herself to the brink of exhaustion, only falling into a dreamless sleep for maybe an hour or few minutes, then getting up. One couldn't tell that the daughter of Mars was near exhaustion. She hid it well. Putting up a wall and running on autopilot, that was something befitting that annoying son of Vulcan. Speaking of said annoying son of Vulcan, he was here in the flesh, though Charlie deeply thought he wouldn't be able to walk through a metal detector without being stopped. She always thought he was some sort of android or AI program that had been sent to take over their world. Stupid, yes, but Simmons... there was something that Charlie couldn't place about him. She hadn't had a chance to check up on Josh yet after Rhiannon's death. But Josh knew of the standing offer for her to take Art any time he wanted.

She eyed the son of Vulcan up and down for a moment as he spoke. The relationship between them was of the 'love/hate' variety. He spoke in that familiar voice that she had gotten used to after so many years. "I'm not sure...." She said, her voice drawing out. "between these three, they are obviously trying to give you a run for your money." She stated. Her glares were enough to quell the looks and glares that were being given to the former first cohort member. She moved over to where Edmund was standing. "You doing okay? How's Art doing? Josh's been trying to run fifth into the ground, I'm worried about him." Even though the two never really got along, they could at least come together over people that mattered between them. Or so Charlie hoped.

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if the monster always dies at the end of the book why am i still a l i v e  ? There is a certain type of tired that even sleep cannot fix. Ed supposed that was his sort of tired. He had felt it after joining Orthys, after the war and the dungeons, during and after his imprisonment, and now. There were small breaks where he felt at peace and well rested... breaks where, if he dared say it, he felt a bit of happiness. But those breaks, small and fleeting, presented themselves out of the blue and then disappeared as fast as they came. He had never turned to drinking to resolve his problems; he had only done so once in his memory, shortly after Felicity "died", and it had been horrible. Besides, he had a child to look after and when he wasn't there, he was around sharp objects and fire. Instead, he hoped that working and not sleeping himself to death would help numb out the pain. To an extent, it had worked. He detached after Rhia died: no emotional connection. But it was taking its toll, he could feel it. Numb and in denial, there would be random, stupid, little instances that jogged his mind; instances where he'd crack and start to feel something. He hated those instances. It wasn't even one identifiable emotion. Maybe that was his problem: he couldn't identify emotions so he pretended he didn't have them and never addressed them. Okay, that, and the fact that he didn't want to douse himself in obliterating pain. As if he wasn't already doing that to himself. For Edmund there wasn't really any "moving on" in the traditional "reconcile and accept" manner. Edmund had never been a traditionalist anyway. No, for him it was shove all emotions under the rug, detach, get emotionally numb; go in to denial and anger, maybe depression, but never acceptance; don't think about it, go on automation mode, and keep trying to keep a body alive when all his mind wanted to do was die. He supposed his mind won sometimes: as shown by his loss of appetite and insomnia. The ex-cohort member could feel her sizing him up; his eyes didn't meet hers though, he was more interested in who had joined first since he had left. Not that he recognized anyone (did he ever?) but just more out of curiosity than anything. He gave a slight nod as she gave him the run down; a small smirk flickered over his face. A new generation of dissenters. It wasn't until she was nearly right next to him that he looked over a little, and even then it wasn't in the eye. "He's doing well, growing a lot," he continued in his usual voice, ignoring the first question. At her mention of Josh, Ed nodded. Detach like a balloon but keep a tether. "I've heard. I suppose his route is work himself and others into the ground." VERBA: 473