In A World As Cold As Stone || Open

[Deleted]

Graphic Credit to Cori!!

“Germany is wonderful! If only you could have come, my love. I’ll be home soon.”

“We love you Dad!”

“Its no wonder why you are one of the few people to never receive mail. Your family was probably happy to get rid of you!”

"Edmund can you make me one pllllllllllllease? Pretty please? Just this once. You know you want to! You can have all of my deserts for a week! Come on Edddddddddie!"

"When you're fourteen and you promise you won't burn down the house!"

“I want it for my birthday!”

“How about this. You get the flying plane, when I let you get a boyfriend.”

"Why are you so...awkward isn't the right word. Unsociable?"

“Edmund, I’m scared…"

“Ed, the fire…they, they’re—”



“You have a problem!”

“Look at me. I’M FINE!”

“You’re the son of dead parents. FOR GOD SAKE START ACTING LIKE ONE!”

Edmund jolted awake from his five minute cat nap. It could have been longer or shorter, but he had no way of knowing that. He started breathing, trying to calm himself down. Gods he hated going to sleep… His eyes flickered around, trying to take in his surroundings. He was at the forge. In the Legion. With a controlled fire in a fireplace. Okay. I'm okay. I'm fine. Okay... he glanced at the fire again and then got up, feeling sick. Nope. Not okay. He started to involuntarily shake. Can't stay in here. Edmund grabbed his sixth finished biplane and trudged out of the forge. He was probably supposed to be somewhere in accordance to his schedule, but he didn't care. He couldn't deal with people right now.


He slunk through the training grounds, not even acknowledging the people he passed. Blinders. Blank face. Regular, same, old, grumpy Edmund. He was pretty much of a master at this by now. He doubted that any of them cared where he was going, anyway. The longer it stayed that way, the better. He slunk into one of the few places that the Campers in the Legion didn’t go into on a daily basis: the forest. He moved a few feet in, made a couple of turns, and then stopped at a particular to him, but other wise mundane boulder. It was a hard, exact spot to find. It looked like every other inch of the forest. A boulder and then a tree behind it. Nothing special. It was nothing special…except to him.

The sixteen year old carefully lifted up the boulder. On the flip side of the stone, he had engraved his parents’, and his sister’s names, along with their birthdays and day of death. His personal grave site for his family members. He had never gone to his family’s wake, or funeral, or even grave site for that matter. His aunt had put off putting the bodies to rest for the month that Edmund had been in the hospital, but then when he was released, he just couldn’t bring himself to go. After a lot of screaming back and forth with his aunt, he just stayed home. He honest to the gods missed them though. Ed had felt horrible about not going, but he just couldn’t.

After arriving at the Legion, he came to the absolute decision that they deserved to be remembered in some physical way by him. He came up with an easily concealed grave site. It was the best that he could come up with while still keeping it a secret. He rolled the boulder a bit to the side, revealing a hole that was forever getting deeper. After brushing away a layer of dirt, he placed Meg’s sixth completed biplane in with the other 45 that he had made since the fire. Seven for each of her birthdays, one for each of her death days. It wasn’t much: just names and planes, but it worked for him.

He stared down sadly at all the planes for a minute, before moving all the dirt back over them. Ed carefully flipped the stone back to the non-engraved side and pushed it back over the hole. It didn’t look any different from when he had entered the forest. The sixteen year old let out a slight sigh and started walking. He honestly had no idea where he was going, but he just needed to walk.

OOC: There's your explanation of Ed's grave site ^_^
IC: 745

[alistair]

Alistair had a fairly normal routine. He woke up about an hour or so before dawn, went for a swim in the pool in the baths (it wasn’t fresh water but the lake was a bit frosted over today), he toweled off and then went to run the obstacle course. After completing that and lifting weights, he showered and had breakfast. Then he did his normal training. You couldn’t have a great body like his without doing some extra training with the Legion. Alistair had gotten used to legion training, though it was quite a shock for him when he first arrived. Before that, his only home was a single boat and boarding school. Alistair had grown accustomed to this much harsher existence in life, but the feelings of mild neglect were still the same, but at least here he had some friends to fall back on. Or at least he liked to think he did. For now, Alistair had some time to himself, having finished his cohorts training for the day. He figured it would be a great time to go for a run. So with his favorite water bottle in tow, Alistair set off for a run through the forest.

The forest was quiet and peaceful, though not as peaceful as the lake first thing before sunrise. The birds chirped happily and the forest critters chittered as Alistair ran past. He was focused on his task at hand. It was rather nice out here, no one was looking down on him and no kids or legacies of Jupiter were out to get him. He was used to the treatment, feeling like a stray or unwanted guest. Alistair had even gotten it at home once his mother married that guy and they had a kid. Alistair didn’t fault them; he wasn’t exactly the best child in the world. His uncle was the cool one. He always spent time with Alistair, regaling stories of the Celtic gods, Morrigan and Rhiannon, the goddesses of magic and horses. It was strange to think that, he Alistair Owain O’connor was a Roman. His ancestors fought against the Romans, so to be a Roman was a betrayal of his heritage. His family was that of fisherman, before that, they were fisherman. Going back generations, they were fisherman. His family wasn’t fighters, they weren’t warlike.

As he ran, Alistair heard the sound of shifting earth, like a massive rock had been put out of place. Alistair paused and frowned. Looking around he didn’t see anyone, but he could hear the sound once again after a pause. But he shrugged it off. No one seemed to be screaming out in pain, no one seemed to be around. Alistair kept his gladius around his waist; it was always a good idea to stay armed unless you were going into New Rome. Then Terminus kept all weapons out. That god of boundaries and lines was just insufferable sometimes. Terminus didn’t like Alistair at all, the feeling was mutual. Alistair picked up his run once more, this time not five minutes later, Alistair stopped short. There was someone up ahead of him. From behind, the guy looked like any other legionnaire. That was always something that could get you into trouble. It could be a Venus kid, ready to jump on you and catch you off guard with their charmspeak. It could be one of those Jupiter kids/legacies that were always out to get him. But Alistair didn’t think it was the latter one.

Alistair approached the figure. It was Edmund, son of Vulcan. He had seen the kid around many times before and maybe spoken to him once or twice. The guy was a social misanthrope. He was a jerk from what Alistair had heard from a few other people, but Alistair himself had once been like that. He pushed other people away and didn’t want to share anything with them about his past. Not that it was tragic or anything, it was sad in a depressing sort of way. Not that he would willingly tell tales on how his mother would rather dive with the fishes than deal with her own infant, leaving his care to his uncle. Alistair never the less thought that he could probably save this guy from himself, no probably not, but he would at least try to. “Hey Edmund right?” Alistair asked as he jogged up and set to keep pace with the younger male.

[Deleted]

It had honestly taken Ed a while to settle into the Legion. He hadn't exactly been used to such rigidness. His parents could be strict, but he was usually good with them, so their harshness was rarely needed. When he moved in with Emalia, he was short of a blob of nothingness. She didn't exactly have to do anything with him nor did she really want to. Em gave one not even half hearted attempt at therapists, and when that was a bust, she just gave up and left Edmund to his own devices (quite literally). They talked little to none: Edmund would eat and then disappear into his room for the rest of the time. He lived most of the year with Em in in silence. The only thing that made Legion life tolerable was because it was close to predictable. It gave structure to his life. Mostly the hyped training schedule. When in training, he didn't get to think about anything else. All he thought about was his opponent and his weapon. That was good. Thinking was bad. However, Edmund wasn't exactly sure where he was in his schedule. The little doze session in the forge had thrown him off. If he was missing his training, whatever. Petty and Molly Jolly could whack him around later.

Edmund exhaled slightly just walking blindly into the forest. He would probably get lost this way, but as of now, he really didn't care. If he went in and never came out, it was doubtful that anyone would care. His attitude and usual solidarity made sure of that. He half shut his dark brown eyes and just listened to the wind in the trees. His parents had taken him camping once... the forest behind their camp site had been so peaceful. Then he came here... and had remembered the forest. One of his last vacations. It was almost amazing to think in here was so quiet and peaceful, while only a half mile or so away, children were fighting and centurions were yelling. At least here he could attempt to get away from it all, just for a few minutes if nothing else. Of course, he'd probably have his centurions in his face with a blade on his throat later, but he'd worry about that when he decided to come out. If he decided to come out. He swayed slightly, just letting the slight feeling of peace settle onto him: alone once again.

... or not. A few moments later, Edmund heard footsteps approaching. Ah well, there went his nice few moments of peaceful solitude. Yes. As opposed to popular belief, Edmund could feel some peace. Albeit a tiny fraction of a millimeter, but some peace none the less. He turned around and saw another male jogging up towards him. Spectacular. Edmund's blank expression flickered over the approaching male's face, his brain semi wandering for a name. None came to mind, although, with this being the Legion and all, Ed probably saw him around daily. Maybe even talked to him once. Then again, it was common for Ed not to know many of the Campers, even those he had spent his six years with here. Call it his hopelessness at socialization. His unwillingness to socialize. His antisocialness. Whatever people were calling it. He really didn't know and he really didn't care. What people said about him was none of his business, but he probably knew the general consensus because he (more than likely) agreed with it: an antisocial jerk who had little to no social skills. Accurate.

The sixteen year old's face barely changed as Alistair surprisingly got his name right. He half wondered how his name was getting around Camp. Probably as the boy who was as before described. Ed offered a slight nod to affirm that Edmund was indeed his name. Edmund, Ed, Simons, Jerk, Boy, Twerp, Probie... yup. Any of the above, and any other insulting nicknames, he would probably answer to. "Yes, Edmund," he said in his usual monotone. "And you are?" he asked in turn, his eyes looking over the older boy's face again. Yes, jerk. Yes, antisocial. However, he still knew some social cues, even if his voice was emotionless. Ed knew that the older male had given him no specific reason to warrant such coldness. Then again, the other male hadn't done anything to warrant Ed to being semi nice or exactly polite either.

IC: 752

[alistair]

Alistair was starting to feel his muscles ache. The constant pounding of his feet on the dirt sent a shockwaves through his calves, the left one more painful that the right. Of course it had to be his scarred leg. He was going to have to do a hot water soak in the baths to soothe his aching muscles. It would be well worth it when all the girls were swooning over his body. Usually Alistair preferred to run alone. Most of the Mars kids would take it into an all-out competition. He didn’t want to deal with all of the competition. Sometimes he wondered why everything had to be about being better than someone else. What was wrong with doing your own thing and just trying to be better than what you were? This place was always nice and quiet; the solitude could almost be akin to being on a boat in the ocean on a nice spring day. Not too hot and not too cold. Those were always the best days in Alistair’s opinion, or a nice hangout on the beach with a picnic while he surfed. That was fun.

Alistair’s attention turned to the kid in front of him. He affirmed his name to be Edmund. Good, now he didn’t look like a moron by calling the kid by a different name. He had heard quite a few things about this kid. Alistair wasn’t one to judge, but for sure he didn’t take all of the stuff that he heard to heart. Most of the things he had heard were from girls and Alistair knew they loved to talk. Alistair couldn’t even begin to tell you how much yacking he heard when he was working in the infirmary. Some of the venus girls would come in gabbing about who was hot, which rockstar they would marry, all of it made Alistair roll his eyes. There was no cure for raging hormones in the female body. But to be fair, the male raging hormones could be just as bad if not worse. Some of those Mars boys were completely dimwitted and were more apt to swing their lower sword than one attached to their hip by their sword belt. “The name’s Alistair O’connor.” Alistair introduced himself to the younger male. He had heard Jason gripe about this guy in the infirmary to no end. Jason was fairly insufferable most of the time, but the son of Apollo knew his stuff.

“So Edmund, what brings you out to the forest? I thought I heard your two prim donna centurions were looking for you.” The daughter of Mars that headed the first cohort with Maddi, they were quite the pair. If you like an evil and blood thirsty pair, that is. “I don’t think I’ve heard so much swearing before in my life.” Alistair shook his head side to side. “It’s a wonder anyone would kiss such a foul mouth like that.”

[Deleted]

Most of the campers had scars here from fight training and just from plain old fighting. Him? He got burn scars along his legs from his house fire. He didn't even remember how he got them. It wasn't like he exactly wanted to remember either. All he remembered was the ceiling collapsing and then being behind bushes, looking for the rest of his family: never to come out of the house alive. He tried not to think of the burns too much, it was too painful. Then again, what else could he think about when left to his own devices? It was kind of karma and at the same time hate for himself and resentment towards Vulcan when he learned that there were some of his children that could control and have resistance to fire. That could of come in useful seven years ago. Then again, it was no one else's fault but his own. His nightmare. His out of control emotions. His fire. Even if he could have had resistance and control, he wouldn't have known how to use it. If anything, him being him, he would have probably, unintentionally made it worse if possible.

Edmund wasn't exactly sure what people were learning about him from sources A, B, C, or D. If they wanted to listen to it, that was their decision. Edmund rarely listened to any of it himself, be it about him or another person. He knew all too well about gossip and rumor spreading from grammar school. Even at a young age, he saw what destruction it had caused; mostly because he was a favorite target. All the kids would talk about him: the school to school, ADHD, dyslexic freak who couldn't get above a D and who needed an attitude adjustment. After a few years of putting up with it nicely, he snapped, and gave up caring about what people thought about him. Why couldn't they just man up and ask him to his face? Edmund gave a slight nod as the older boy gave his name. Alistair O'Connor. He had heard it around camp before, but had never really matched a face or personality to it, until now.

The sixteen year old shrugged as Alistair asked what he was doing in the forest. it wasn't like he was going to tell the truth about his true whereabouts. He always lied about those. "Nothing specific," he stated in his usual monotone, slightly shrugging his shoulders. One other art besides wood/metal crafting that he had become good at? Lying. He had it down to a science by now. He could have even passed Toph's lying test. He gave his eyes a slight roll when O'Connor informed him that his Centurions were looking for him. He'd come out when he felt like it. They were probably just hunting him down for training, or hunting him down period. "Let them look as long as they want," he stated with an emotionless shrug. Ah, Petty and Jolly-Molly had mastered the art of cursing. He had known that for a while. At the mention of romance, Ed's face semi scrunched up in disgust. "I doubt washing their mouth out with soap would yield improvement," the sixteen year old shrugged, his face still straight. Although, that would be amusing to watch... he had to admit.

OOC: Sorry he's not that talkative :/
IC: 570

[alistair]

Alistair raised an eyebrow at the younger male’s lack of emotion. That couldn’t be good for a person psyche. This kid made him wonder if some of the rumors were true. Alistair took a long drink from his water bottle, trying to quell his parched throat. The run had done him some good that was true. He was just grateful that he had some time off. At least his centurions weren’t complete and utter jerks like Edmunds were. “Do your centurions even schedule you guys any sort of relaxation or rest periods?” Alistair was curious and really wondered what it was like for the poor kid. “Is it true that you guys once drilled for nearly forty-eight hours strait without sleep? That must have been so horrible.” Alistair commented. “Hey do you know if there’s like a creek or something nearby?” Alistair was pretty horrible at knowing exactly where he was when he on land. In the water or on a boat, his homing pigeon senses kicked in like nothing else. But on dry land he as useless as a broken hammer, extremely useless. Alistair shook his head at the thought of being so very useless.

“Yeah someone really should mummify her head, Jolly at least.” Alistair mumbled. Maybe he could do that the next time that she came into the infirmary when she was working. It probably didn’t help that Jason was chasing after her like some sort of depressing puppy. That wouldn’t last for a week before Charlie killed him. Though to be quite honest Alistair didn’t want to do the paperwork if something were to happen to someone while he was on watch in the infirmary. That was a mountain of paperwork that Alistair didn’t want to even think about looking at that stupid folder. “So you’re hiding out huh? Sounds like it would be a ton of fun. I can’t say I blame you.” Alistair admitted. “I probably should be doing something constructive with my time. I just can’t figure out what.” Alistair thought out loud. There was a loud chirping sound and Alistair peered upwards to watch a robin hop along the branches and chirp happily. Then it started to chase after a squirrel that had gotten a bit too close to its nest. Alistair shook his head.

“So what do you do for fun around here Edmund?” Alistair asked in a curious manner. HE wasn’t quite sure how exactly to talk to this kid. He understood how it was to be socially awkward and strange. He also understood well what it felt like to be the source of neglect.

[Deleted]

Edmund would be Edmund to the ends of the earth and back. A boy who showed no emotion. Who'd rather be alone, carve, and train rather than hang out with people. It was just easier that way. Good thing too, he was almost half grateful for his rough training schedule. Less time to think and be social, but at the same time also less time to forge. He took the older male's question into consideration. "Every now and again, yeah," he said with a slight nod. Then again, he skipped out a few of the training sessions. He'd usually suffer their wrath later, but there was only so much he could take of those two. "That's true," he nodded. Edmund had pulled a two forty-eight hour days before the training session. Albeit he was nine, lost weight and looked like hell when the third day came around, but he had done it. It had been when he was with Emalia. He didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to dream. Both times he had been in the hospital. Both times, the doctors had to knock him out themselves. Someone really had to invent a drug that induced dreamless sleep. The first cohort forty-eight hour drill had been crazy, but the adrenaline had kept him awake, much like it had when he was in the hospital, albeit for different reasons. Ed gave a slight shrug. It had been two rough days and that's what he got for being in the first cohort, but whatever. It was the Legion. It had been something that prevented him from thinking.

At his next question, Edmund's dark brown eyes automatically scanned the forest. River. Creek. Water source. Where was one? He was pretty sure there was one around here some place... it was probably for his water bottle. "A bit further in and to the left, I think," he said, nodding to the left, finally remembering. A smirk flickered across his face. Mummifying Jolly's head; gods she would kill whoever did that to her. He had to inwardly admit, it would have been a sight to see. However, even though Charlie was a pain to Ed, she was still his centurion; he probably wouldn't do that to her, even if she did try to kill him. The sixteen year old gave a slight shrug. "You could say that," he murmured in his flat voice. He had to get away from the yelling and strictness and crazy camp at sometime or another. His escapes became the forge and the forest. They were hectic too sometimes, but it was the best he could do. Ed slightly nodded. He usually had some feelings like that too, usually when he was building planes. He could have been making weapons and repairing things in the armory, but his plane making was a must for him. His gaze followed Alistair's. A robin and a squirrel seemed to have gotten into a bit of an argument. The robin was probably just trying to protect it's nest...

The demigod's gaze switched back to Alistair and blinked. Fun. Here? There was fun at the Legion? What was fun at the Legion...? He gave a slight shrug. The only things he liked doing were forging and fighting... so did that equate to fun? "Forging," he finally decided on. "And training with Petty and Jolly aren't breathing down my neck," he added, giving his eyes a slight roll. After scanning the older boy's face for a moment, Edmund decided to be semi civil. Yes, he still knew some socialization skills. "What about you?"

IC: 614

[alistair]

“Geeze a forty-eight hour training session? Seems a bit harsh. But I guess that’s Maddi and Charlie for you.” Alistair rolled his eyes at the thought. He would have killed someone if they tried to make him train for two days without sleep. “Well at least it was only two days long and not a week long training session. I heard back in the day a Mars centurion led one session for a week and a half. Glad I wasn’t in that cohort back then. It’s probably best to not mention something like that to Jolly; she’d probably try to match that record.” The thought of doing something like that for so long was painful enough to make the scar on his leg twinge. Alistair did his best to shove the thought aside in his mind. The terror and fear that welled up in Alistair’s mind as he plummeted from the plane to the water below, it was something that was still a nightmare in his mind. He always freaked out when he had the nightmares of him falling. Maybe he should go see some Bacchus kid and get some therapy. The Bacchus kids were always good for therapy but not so much when they were sober.

“Okay thanks for the directions. I need to hop in for a little bit to re-energize before I completely lose my energy.” Alistair nodded in thanks. He would hop in the creek after he was done talking to Edmund. Or more specifically, when Edmund got tired of looking at Alistair. The latter was the more probable. Alistair had only truly dealt with Edmund a handful of times, but most of them were around other people. Never had it been one on one like this in a fairly secluded place, it had always been in that common area in between the barracks. Alistair had come to grow fond of the interactions that had taken place in the common area. There was his kiss with Lilith the other day, but kissing her had been a mistake and left Alistair more confused than ever. Then he also thought about Cassie. He liked the spunky daughter of Jupiter and she was quite amazing. But Lilith was too. Maybe he would ask Cupid for some advice when and if he saw him ever again. Love was confusing and Alistair had the worst luck. So being confused on top of unlucky, that was a recipe for disaster.

“I might have to ask you to fix my armor sometime; my helmet has been so dented I can’t even get it on my head anymore.” Alistair had taken some massive blows to the head. The first two weren’t so bad, but that the third one left his helmet to be more akin to a crumpled up piece of tinfoil. His chest piece fared better since it was mostly hardened leather intertwined with pieces of steel. It worked and he could still have some maneuverability. “I don’t really do anything for fun. If I don’t work in the infirmary I’m training or being harassed by the Lare Titus. He’s an older son of Neptune who died back in ancient roman times.” Alistair shrugged his shoulders.

[Deleted]

Ed nodded giving his eyes a slight roll. "Yeah... fitting of them." Even though he hadn't exactly minded it, persay, he wasn't exactly going to sign up for another round of 48 hours straight. He wasn't exactly into complaining much though: he sucked it up and just went along. He'd kick and rebel at times, but not exactly complain. The adrenaline and semi fear of getting slashed open kept him going, but it had still been tiring. It would have been a monumental lie if he said he hadn't been tired out. After they finished, Edmund had kind of crashed. It had to be one of the only times he didn't care if he got nightmares; one of the only times he had slept for solid hours with no dreams that he could remember. He had been dead beat tired. Ed raised his eyebrows. "A week...? I'd call that child abuse," he muttered, slightly shaking his head. A week of nonstop fighting. Dear gods. A slight smirk flickered across his face; that sounded like Jolly alright. "My lips are sealed," he agreed. People like Petty and Jolly would do it too; if not to best another Centurion, to make his life miserable since they probably hated him by now.

It was weird, Edmund usually didn't like males, but so far Alistair hadn't really done anything to push his buttons the wrong way. The fact that he was male was probably the only thing he had going against him right now. Alistair hadn't done anything to make Edmund explicitly dislike him.... yet. He'd only talked to him a couple of times in the common area, and even then Ed was more listening than talking. Sure, jumping to heal people even if it was minor was kind of annoying, but it wasn't enough to warrant Ed's hateful side. The sixteen year old nodded slightly. "No problem," he said with a slight shrug. Drinking around here was important. Not exactly the kind Bacchus kids did to intoxicate themselves, but the healthy water kind. If the training didn't kill you, the next on the list was dehydration. Three days without water and you were dead. Actually, no, never mind, this was the Legion with constant training: it was more like... a day. Suddenly Ed's curiosity was tugging at him. "Energize... on water?" he asked, looking at him. Okay. So common sense and putting things together mentally wasn't his thing...

He nodded slightly. "Sure," he agreed. "You can bring it over to the forge whenever." It was a 50-50% chance that he was in there. Even though he acted like he hated everyone, he wouldn't deny someone a fix or a make. Besides, it was kind of his job, as a child of the forge. Dented helmets especially were usually nasty; they were usually made with a person seeing stars and occasionally not being able to get the helmet back off. Like water, helmets around here were semi essential; just to make sure the Camp didn't loose too many brain cells. Ed nodded slightly; if not for forging (which wasn't exactly fun, but was as close as Ed could get) he would have said nothing either. At the older boy's last sentence, he tilted his head slightly. "You can see spirits?" he asked.

IC: 569

[alistair]

Alistair just couldn’t really understand why the centurions needed to play the one up game. It always irked him to watch them try to outdo one another. It was the legionnaires that suffered. Alistair had always seen server cases of exhaustion, dehydration, and stress fractures after the marathon training events. Not only was it specifically harmful to the legionnaires physical wellbeing, but it could also be a problem for their mental health. Alistair always advocated having scheduled recreation time in the training schedule. It was good to have this down time to allow and promote good mental and physical health. “I hate how much of a pain in the arse training can be sometimes. If you don’t have a little bit of free time then you can’t let things heal that need to be healed. Saw a kid in the first cohort the other day, some legacy kid who had a bad stress fracture, it went from being a stress fracture to being a full blow bone breakage.” Alistair said with a nod of his head. Alistair always hated having to deal with bone breaks; those were something he had a hard time working with. He left those mostly to the other workers in the infirmary.

Alistair ran a hand through his hair before looking in the direction of where Edmund said the creek was. Edmund seemed curious about Alistair and his perpetual need for water. “Well you know being the son of the sea god, we fish kids get a lot of healing energy from the water. I’ve found that fresh water from like lakes and creeks works all well and good, but if you want the top notch energy and healing from water, it’s got to be ocean water.” Alistair did a bunch of studying in the past summer about the healing properties. Of course he wasn’t going to say anything to his patients, but he had reached the conclusion in a matter of two months. It also included him getting the hell stomped out of him for days on end before having a chance to fully heal him. Alistair wiped his forehead before taking another sip of the water. “Some of the other kids around here have things that heal them, I know there’s an Apollo kid or two that have healing factors, but other than that I can’t think of anything else off of the top of my head.”

Alistair grinned. He had gotten that ‘you can see spirits’ thing a lot. “Actually anyone can talk to the spirits of New Rome, but the thing is, most people just don’t notice them.” He laughed. “It’s only the outside spirits that kids of Pluto or Mors can talk to. But they are everywhere; you just have to know where to look. Like Titus is a son of Neptune who tends to keep to himself but he thinks it’s cool to harass other sons of Neptune. He was killed way way way back in the day. Captain of the Roman navy and what not.” Alistair shrugged his shoulders. He just couldn’t figure out why the spirit was so interested in him. “Sometimes it’s annoying, but other times he’s got a good bit of advice to give.” Most of the lares were great to talk to if you just knew where to look and took the time to notice them.

[Deleted]

With the intense training, especially in the first cohort, Edmund thought that mental health days would be nice. His mom had taught him about those when he had been at school. Ed had even taken one or two when the bullying got really bad. But here, mental health days could be where you wouldn't do any training. Where the legionaries could just relax and do... whatever they wanted really. Hang out in the baths, sleep, pig out at the mess hall (they'd probably get all the weight burned off in a single training session), get a little recreational. There wasn't much recreational things to do at Camp anyway. Campers would probably need to visit New Rome for that. He knew that he'd probably spend all his mental health days locked up in the forge. Even though he tried to do it every day, and it was kind of his job, it was one that he actually enjoyed doing. The sixteen year old nodded slightly. Even though training kept his mind off things and it was enjoyable, he had to agree with Alistair: it could get annoying at times. That was exactly why he chose to ditch training sometimes to just hang around the forge or forest. Find a place where he could just rest and kinda heal over.

He looked at Alistair, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Close to bone breakage huh..." he muttered, shaking his head. He could see it happening too: an easy to fix stress fracture one training session. To fix it, just keep it rested for a week or so, but no, this was the Legion. Keep fighting and fighting, putting more and more pressure on it, making it weaker and weaker. Eventually (quite soon because of the rate and intensity of first cohort training) it comes close to snapping. Luckily, Ed's injuries had never gone that far. He had been able to avoid the terror that was the infirmary. The sixteen year old listened to Alistair's explanation of water, nodding. "Neptune. Right." Son of one of the Big Three. The sea god to get more specific. Now that would make a ton of sense. Probably one of the reasons that children of the big three were so powerful: powerful powers. Okay. Maybe that sounded a little dumb, but it was true. They could move air, raise dead people, move water, and heal (in Alistair's case) for gods sakes. Ed had nothing about him that he could use to heal himself. Those healing properties were given to Apollo and Neptune kids.

"Really..." he muttered. He had never thought about that. Ed had always thought that seeing spirits was reserved for like... Pluto and Mors. "Well I've certainly looked in all the wrong places then," he said with a shrug. Not that he'd been looking for spirits at New Rome; he just never saw any of them. He nodded slightly Titus. "So any of the Legion dead we can see, even if they left the Legion...?" To him, outside spirits were people of non Roman blood. He wondered if any of the lost demigods (say demigods that didn't know they were demigods) could be seen here if they ever chanced to spirit into Camp. He nodded. Ed wasn't surprised, dead Legionnaire that had probably seen it all throughout the years, had been to camp himself, and had been in the Navy? He must of had some good war (and life) advice to spare.

IC: 586

[alistair]

Most of the time Alistair just hung out around the lake or at the aqueduct or he spent his time working at the infirmary. Mostly his hobby was working on his craft as a water healer. Alistair was quick to learn that there was water in a good deal of living things and it was everywhere, so it was very few and far between that he was left without something to defend himself with. There were some who looked down on his choice to use that ability to heal people. He was never much one for fighting. Even in primary school he was picked on because he was a pacifist. Alistair never really fought back against bullies. Even here there were people who had picked on him for not wanting to fight against the others. But he trained to keep those he loved protected. Alistair wanted to keep people safe, to fight for Rome and to keep it from falling. Alistair wiped the sweat from his brow as he then took another drink of water. Damn that persistent case of cotton mouth. “I’m probably going to end up taking a personal day or something later on. Between the legion and the infirmary, I’m constantly doing something.” Alistair said with a nod.

“You probably wouldn’t be surprised at how many stress fractures I see on any given day.” Alistair shook his head. Even in the people that didn’t come in for something like fractures or bone breakages had them. He seen them especially in the legs, around the feet, ankle joints, knees, and the shins were the most painful places to have them, they were also the most common places to find them. And of course on the shoulders for a few of the legionnaires, that was another common place to find them. Alistair had taken to doing a few routine x-rays if he suspected there was a stress fracture. He expressly grouched at the centurions to make sure their legionnaires would take it easy so they wouldn’t make their fractures any worse. He would always see the kids back in a few days with a full blown fracture. No one ever listened to him. No, Alistair Fish-face didn’t know what he was talking about. Sure an Apollo kid could say something and everyone took it at face value. Jason could tell a centurion that a kid has a broken leg at a right angle and it looks just fine and they would believe him as if he was the god of truth himself. Alistair explained the whole Neptune thing to Edmund. It was nice to explain something to someone who wasn’t running off like Alistair was going to pull a knife on them or try to strangle them with a surfboard. He had thought about it once or twice, but he never acted on it.

“Well most of the spirits were members of the twelfth legion. Most of them keep to themselves, but Titus has taken it upon himself to make sure the other children of Neptune are living up to their high expectations or whatever.” Alistair shook his head. “Not like anyone expects anything of us anyways, but I think most of the legion ghosts are pretty cool. They have some good stories to share.” He thought about the story Titus told him of slaying a few sea monsters before being killed as one of them roped its scaly body around his ship and crushed it like it was some child’s play thing. “If you want I can introduce to Titus some time.”

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Edmund couldn't exactly be called a healer anymore. He was more of an antagonizer/instigator nowadays. He tried to stray away from outright bully (since he knew how it felt to be bullied) but he had his share of Camp fights. Ed participated in them, but couldn't sit still to heal from it for his life. Thank you ADHD; at least how he'd have wood carving to preoccupy him, but still. Ed could only put up with so much repetition. It hadn't always been like that though; there had been a time where he would have just been content to try to heal people; be one of those odd Roman pacifists: to not fight and to just go unnoticed. That time was long gone, though. What the Legion got was the reformed him. Even though he hated the infirmary (and perhaps even a choice person in it) he couldn't help but be kind of amazed on how they could heal people in the godly way. Their healing properties/powers were pretty cool, no needles required (as a matter of fact, anything was better than needles). No, unlike mortals, they could heal with ambrosia, nectar, some with water, and others with singing. Edmund nodded slightly as Alistair said that he was going to take a day. "Knowing your limits is key, I suppose," he said in his usual voice, semi nodding. So for Alistair it was Legion and infirmary. Fair. For Edmund it was Legion and forge. Guess they all had their little niches in Camp life.

"Double digits?" he asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. Alistair was probably right though. Edmund could easily believe such high numbers of stress fractures since he had seen them happen to people day in and day out. He probably even had them at various points. It was really easy to get them here too with all the rigorous training. Between cohort training, the obstacle course, and then camp wide tournaments, Edmund wouldn't be surprised if everyone was hurt at least twice every day. No wonder the infirmary wouldn't tend to "minor" cuts from sword fights: if they did, they'd be full of campers all the time. Besides, knowing a little first aid yourself never hurt anyone. It was sort of essential, anyways, especially to him. Because of his aversion to the infirmary, Edmund had taught himself first aid rather fast after being at the legion for a day. One of the first things he had heard when coming into Camp, and one of the sounds that he could never forget hearing: a bone crack. WELCOME TO THE LEGION SIMONS!

It was safe to say that Edmund didn't exactly care who anyone's godly blood was around here. Someone could say their parent was Timor and they'd still have a fair shot of either neutral to tolerable or enemy. He disregarded his so called "godly parentage" anyway, so why would he take anyone else's into account? So what if Alistair was Neptune. He knew from just general Camp vibe it was "unlucky" to be children of certain parentage, but screw luck. Didn't mean that Ed couldn't talk to them if he so wished. He had nothing to loose except his neck. He nodded slightly. Most of them sounded like him: keeping to themselves. However, he could also see a dedicated, past Legionary coming back to watch over the newer generations of soldiers. "I'm sure they do..." he murmured. Surely they had probably seen more battle than those currently here. He tilted his head slightly at Alistair's offer. "That'd be interesting," he said, nodding slowly.

IC: 614