And Watch It Burn || Open

[Deleted]

Edmund wasn't exactly sure what it was with him, houses, grandfather clocks, and fire. Actually, he was sure, but he didn't know exactly why he did what he did. Edmund actually hadn't been sure about it since he had started to do it. Which was after he got to Camp and actually had a gigantic fire at his fingertips. He'd find himself making a small scale of his old house, and small scale grandfather clock... and then pitching them straight into the fire when no one was around. If anything, it helped his craftsmanship, fed the forge fire, and improved his throwing aim. The things he would throw into the fire where probably the most detailed things he made, besides Meghan's annual planes. Which reminded him... he still needed to work on that. It still looked like half a regular wood block with incisions and chunks missing. Nothing like a plane yet.

Meghan had loved planes. He thought, with her being a girl and all, that she would of preferred Barbies or whatever girly stuff was out there, but no, she would play with all the different transportation systems that Edmund made. It had cost the Simons a few dining room tables, and after loosing the TV cabinet, they had decided just to get him blocks of wood by the dozen. The basement became his workshop so to speak. With all the small scale trains, planes, bicycles, cars, buildings, and people Ed made, he created a small sized town in their basement as Meg's seventh birthday present. A month or so later, it all got wiped out. Fuel to the fire. Like this unfortunate, completed, grandfather clock was about to become.

Bullseye. The small clock was in the pit no more than a second before it got engulfed in flames. Ed just stood there, watching the fire turn the intricate designs brown, black, and then disintegrated the wood. With all this aim practice, Edmund was thinking about going into target practice with a different weapon. It'd be a nice change in routine, besides offering himself as camp's personal trinket/weapon maker/fixer. He still wasn't sure why he did that. Perhaps camp was becoming a bit too monotonous for him after six years. Even though the routine had been good for him for the first few years, and he was used to it, it had become a bit dry. Follow the camp schedule, sword fight, train, lurk creepily around camp, go back to the forges, make things, sleep, eat, repeat.

Forging, along with fighting were the only things that were keeping him from going insane around here. Using his godly powers and fighting. The only two things that could actually make him happy. Anything else was already dead. The people around him were probably enough to drive even the most saint like, patient person crazy. It didn't help that Edmund was not patient with people to begin with. For inanimate objects, he had infinite patience. For people? Near zero. He sighed, taking out his exacto knife once again, and starting to work on the block of wood that semi resembled a plane. By April 5th, it would look like a plane.

OOC: Idek... I have a lot of muse for him xD
IC: 541

[Deleted]

Felicity was seriously pissed off. She was holding a training session for her cohort and no one would listen! First, they were too lazy. So Felicity summoned up some Civil War Union soldiers to get them motivated. She did not expect what happened next to have happened. All of the members in her cohort got up and rushed to grab their weapons. However the were procrastinating, since they knew Felicity would not actually do them harm. Felicity got mad and made the soldiers charge faster. Soon everything was frantic, but at least her cohort members were fighting back, unfortunately they were losing. Felicity sighed and walked towards the dead Union Army and told them to retreat back into the Underworld. During this one of her cohort members became intrigued in the civil war cannons and accidently lit it causing an explosion and singing every one of the cohort members.

Felicity drew her sword and looked at the Legionnaire. It was a tween boy, and he was laughing at his prank. Felicity made him pick up his sword and they began a duel, one to teach punishment. As she finished her opponent off, in a non-deadly way, although he will be in the infirmary for awhile, she yelled at her Cohort. Of course when she was mad she tended to let her powers slip and while she was yelling a boulder slammed into her sword which was wedged a few yards back into the earth. The boulder caused her sword, which was her most favorite weapon, to become bent to a horrific angle.

Thus, that is how Felicity found herself marching to the forges with the black flames of death sparking in her eyes. Today was horrible. If she ran into anyone that caused her grief she didn't know what to do. Although the though of punching the weasel augur, August in the face made Felicity wan to smile. She walked into the forge, ignoring the intense heat. She looked around and saw a kid working on a wood block. She walked over holding out her sword. "Hey kid! Can you do me a favor and fix this?" Felicity grumbled to the dark haired youth.

She looked at the flame and saw a half-burning clock. She rolled her eyes. Some kids at camp will never make sense to her, of course most of them were in her cohort, minus her friend Clare of course, but she was out for practice today. She tossed the angled sword onto the work bench and looked at it. She was a powerful demigod, daughter of one of the big three. Yet, she couldn't even fix her trusty weapon. She had to, dare she admit it? Depend on others.

outfit: singed camp shirt, jeans, messy hair
words: 498
notes: Felicity is in a bad mood and isn't going to be patient with this at all...

[Deleted]

It was in a 50/50 chance shot that Edmund could be found in the forge. Then again, no one would ever want to find him on purpose. He was more on the 24/7 grumpy, antisocial scale. Usually, people usually came to the forge only if they wanted something fixed or made. Children of Vulcan were like... the camp's weapon supply closet. Edmund didn't mind much. It gave him something to do, and he liked making/fixing things. Not to sound so cliche and all, but, it was, quite literally, in his blood. That, and he supposed that it just came with the whole "child of the god of the forge" thing. Just because he liked the hot, stuffy forge though, it didn't mean that he didn't enjoy things outside of it. Edmund enjoyed fighting, sparring, and training. His location was usually in either the forge, or the training areas. They had practically become his second and third homes. Mainly the forge as his second. He was easily the most comfortable there... his eyes started to stare right through the block that he was supposed to be forming into a plane. The most comfortable, but it was also a place full of triggers. "Come on Edddddddieeeee. Pllllllease?" He shut his eyes. Her face... He opened his eyes, once again staring at the plane.

Edmund took his gaze off of the wood block, and decided to watch the clock. The edges were on fire, the wood becoming black... The weights were melting. Bong. Bong. Bong. 3 AM. Why is that still ringing? It was covered in fire... that was supposed to warrant the clock useless, right? He exhaled slightly as he watched the flames start to engulf the face of the clock. Fuel to the fire... as usual. Ed's eyes gazed back down to his wood block. He took his exacto knife, about to make a cut-- and bang. Edmund instinctually looked up, half squinting as outside light flooded the dark forge. He saw a silhouette of a female figure in the door way and a rush of cool air entered his refuge. The girl wasted no time in marching up to him and shoving a weapon in his face. From the brief, bright light, he had seen a badly bent sword. Before she got the words out of her mouth, he could imagine her demand: fix it. Her words confirmed it.

"Hi to you too," he said flatly, abandoning his wood block and exacto knife. Ed didn't even try to be nice and gracious. That wasn't him. To her, he was probably just a not well known face. One of many in Camp Jupiter. She was that to him as well. He had probably seen her at one point or other, around Camp, but that was it. Edmund wasn't one for socializing with people. At her actual question, he just nodded his head slightly. "Sure." He took the bent sword by the hilt and stuck it in the fire, trying to heat the metal up so he could bend it back into shape.

IC: 522

[Deleted]

Felicity was stunned that he worked without an arguement or throwing a tantrum. Most people she met on a bad note ended up with sword tips at each others throats. There was something awfully peculiar about this son of Vulcan. "Um...thanks Felicity mumbled, confused when he took the sword and fed it flame. She fidgeted nervously.Standing around in silence, okay so it wasn't entirely quiet with the roar of fire and metal working, but it was still awkward.

She cleared her throat lightly. "Sorry about coming in rudely, rough training session, hence the broken sword. She stared at her deformed, but beloved sword. Could really flames and hammer strokes mend such a deformity in her blade. She glanced around nervously. First came in with anger and then being nervous, Gods, why did she have to be so bi-polar at times?"So my sword...you can fix it right. It is not unrepairable." Felicity asked.

Suddenly she realized she didn't even know the name of the person she trusted her sword to. She cursed at herself in her head. "Who do I have the thinks to fixing my sword. By the way the names Felicity, daughter of Pluto, Centurion to the fourth legion." Felicity stated. Though titles were never important to her she had no idea why she always introduced herself in that manner. The fourth legion was, by far, nothing to be proud. Being the daughter of one of the Big Three was a huge no-no. She wasn't even suppose to exist, maybe thats the reason her father chooses to ignore her. The only title that did do her proud was being a Centurion. She had worked blood and skin for that position, people kept complaining when she finally accomplished it. They didn't want a daughter of Pluto running a cohort, she was too unpredictable, they said.

Felicity looked around the room and then again at the flame which was burning away the last remains of the clock. "Did it not work, or was the handiwork bad?" Felicity asked. She didn't understand why someone would burn their handiwork, at least they could do was disassemble it then reuse the parts, if anything. Perhaps none of the parts worked anymore, although to her that seemed very unlikely, even dead things have some energy. Or was the only with living things. She was never good with inanimate objects, or the living. She much preferred dead people. She often smirked when she would stare at a newbie dead in the eye and mimic The sixth Sense line of "I see dead people." Gods, how much fun she sometimes had.

outfit: singed camp shirt, jeans, messy hair
words: 488
notes: Felicity is a bit bipolar...I guess

[Deleted]

The greeting could have been a tad more courteous, but he was rarely courteous himself. Asking that of others, especially in a Camp like this, was just hypocritical. Besides, it was his job to fix things like this. What was the point in refusing? It was something to do. After a year or so, he had gotten used to nearly everyone's abrupt, cranky disposition. He probably had one himself, but that had been formed before Camp. This place had probably just enforced it. He gave a slight shrug as she thanked him, some hesitation in her voice. "Whatever, no problem," he grumbled back. Edmund wasn't sure if she was just taken aback that she was thanking him, or taken aback that he had actually agreed. Most of the Camp wasn't the most agreeable type. Heck, he wasn't the most agreeable type... unless it involved fixing/making things.

Edmund carefully watched the metal of the sword, letting the silence of the forge stretch. He didn't exactly count silences as awkward. Silence was silence, and that was it. Odd to some people, but he actually preferred silence to noise. "I can see that," he murmured, carefully looking at the blade's badly bent angle. Ed wondered if everyone around here took fighting so seriously. He supposed it came with being Roman, but still. Did some have to get so riled up if they as so much lost? She wasn't the first to badly bend a blade, Edmund had seen plenty of that, and he 75% certain that someone had landed in the infirmary. At her question he nodded. "Fixable," he confirmed. It was metal... it was pliable after being exposed to fire.

For reasons unknown to him, she had seemingly calmed down since first entering the forge. Maybe she was just happy that the sword could be fixed. He had been getting quite a few "fix my favorite weapon" cases as of late. As odd as it had sounded to him at first, people could get attached to a weapons. At first he thought it was a ridiculous notion... until he got a few of his own. Ed nodded as she introduced herself. He had probably heard the name around camp, had probably seen her face a couple of times, but with this "interactions" around camp, he had probably never met her. "Edmund, and I don't think I have to tell you my immortal half," he said as an introduction. She was probably smart enough to realize who his immortal was. Easy enough to put two and two together. He was in the forge mending her sword (not to purposefully rhyme).

At her question, Edmund took his eyes off the sword and looked over at the clock, seeing the last of his creation turn into ash. "Didn't work," he muttered. Or at least in his head it didn't. It wasn't supposed to work. It was solid wood. The handiwork wasn't bad... but he would still throw it in the fire for only gods knew what reason why. He kinda felt like it was an obligation of sorts and... yeah, he should stop thinking right about there.

OOC: Awww it's okay!!
And sorry his un-talkativeness >.<
IC: 535

[Deleted]

Felicity smiled when she said her sword was fixable, she honestly didn't know. Then if her sword was proclaimed unfixable, she didn't know what to do. It would take her months, maybe even a year to find a sword as balanced as the one she had. It took her two years of looking in the armory to find that one, and ever since it has been sheathed at her side. When the black haired kid said his name was Edmund Felicity ran it through her head a few times. She vaguely remembered the name from somewhere. Being in such a camp you were doomed to at least run into everyone once. "Vulcan, I'm pretty sure. Which makes sense as you are doing such a good job with...um...whatever you are doing." Felicity said as she glanced at it. She had no idea what people did in forges.

"Shame." Felicity said at the mention of the ill-working clock, which was ashes by now. She kept quiet for a short time. She had no idea whether or not it was better for the forgers to work in quiet or not. She didn't even know how long this would take, yet she wasn't going to leave. She had a few trust issues and she didn't need a camper purposely destroying the sword, however unlikely it would be. Besides, this kid, Edmund, seemed much like a loner. That was like Felicity when she first arrived to camp, when she became a centurion that all changed. She was forced with talking to people. She was finding it harder and harder to become an outcast again.

Her eyes examined the forge, again. Finally her eyes landed on the woodblock which looked as if it were in the middle of being worked on. Felicity thought for a moment. She vaguely remembered that when she marched in Edmund was working on something. She examined it with her eyes, to her it was just a wood block, an inanimate object. She pondered on what it could become, but all she could see what attaching wheels to it and maybe adding some paint and ta-duh, it was done. Obviously Felicity lacked a creativity gene.

"So, that wood block, what is that going to be." She knew it wasn't her place to be so nosy but what she lacked in creativity genes she made up for with curiosity. She couldn't wrap her mind over how something can be formed from a block of wood, she knew it was possible, yet she didn't understand. Plus she was tired of sitting in silence, it made her think of the one time she peered into the Underworld and her a silence unlike any she had ever heard before. A deathly silence. It even know caused her nightmares. Though she figured one day she will get he courage to go down to the Underworld, visit the old man, heck maybe have lunch, not in the Underworld of course. She smiled slightly at that thought, she was anxious to meet her parent. Though the smile faded when she remembered of her fathers wife and how she even know gets attacked by flowers in Springtime, she hated that season more then anything.

outfit: singed camp shirt, jeans, messy hair
words: 577
notes:

[Deleted]

It was kinda weird when he thought about it: he and the other Vulcan children turned out weapons... and then they eventually found matches to people in Camp. Matches that were, hopefully, for life. Nothing like your first weapon. He knew that now. Even he had to pick out a sword from the armory within the first few weeks of his arrival. He had thought that they were all crazy. Gods and monsters and legions and cohorts and all this stuff. It was like everything that he had never been taught was a lie (which it probably had been, as far as the gods were concerned). But, after a while, he had no choice but to accept it. He gave a slight nod. "Uh, thanks," he grumbled. Since wasn't used to peer praise, his statement was wary, if not suspicious. As he had guessed, she named the right parent. It honestly wasn't too hard. He was either in the forge or in a fighting area. He remembered someone asking him if he was a child of Mars at one point; it had been during the early summer, and Edmund had been having one of his bad days.

Edmund just shrugged slightly, watching the clock fully disappear. A model house was the next thing that was going thrown in. He liked alternating. "Can't all work," he grumbled. Nearly nothing living did, anyway. Inanimate things, he could make work. Living, breathing, not tangible, he couldn't. He wish he could... he wished he could fix things. But that was never going to happen. He let silence lap once again and just carefully watched the metal. Ed liked being alone and solitary; for him, it was easier than being with others. Way, way, way better. Here, he could get away with it too. He could get away with being a loner. That silent kid who lurked around camp, spent all his time in the forges, and just resurfaced to fight and eat.

After a few more moments of carefully babysitting the weapon, he pulled the sword out, placed it on a table near the fire and started to hammer the metal back to it's original shape. That must of been some nasty fight. Either that, or a bolder decided to hit the sword at an awkward angle. He remembered those days that he wouldn't even come into the forge. From the time he stepped into camp, at age ten, to a few months after his thirteenth birthday, he refused go in. If his sword bent, too bad. He went to the armory for a new one. That said, when he finally did semi-face his fear (mostly because it was expected of him to go in there) he had quite a few swords of his to fix. What was wrong with him? Half Vulcan, and afraid of fire. No wonder his immortal half decided to claim him only when he was absolutely forced to on his birthday.

His dark brown gaze looked up from his hammering as she asked about the wood block. "A biplane," he muttered, pausing slightly before going back to hammering the sword back into shape. Making planes wasn't exactly what this Camp would call productive, but it was what he'd call therapeutic. Did it work? Not all the time. 95% of the time it just made him worse, but it was the 5% feeling of closure that kept making him do it. That 5%... and maybe something else. Something he couldn't exactly place a name on.

IC: 595

[Deleted]

After getting only one sentences Felicity was starting to wonder if this guy was okay. It was one thing to be antisocial but when Felicity went through that phrase she took anyone having a conversation with her as a good omen. Now here she was trying to talk to this Vulcan kid and he was basically ignoring her. More like he just wanted to get the darn sword down and get rid of her as soon as possible. Felicity huffed. Even if this guy wasn't in her cohort it was her job as a centurion to make sure the campers were okay. So she might have made that up, but she felt good when campers were happy. Perhaps it was a way of repaying them all after all the trouble she caused them.

She walked over to Edmund, but stopped at enough distance to not get in the way of his work on her sword. "Hey, Edmund. You okay? She asked sincerely. She didn't know her backstory, but it probably wasn't a good one. Only about one percent of the campers here came to camp with a backstory free of pain and suffering. It wasn't her place to ask about someones story, but its not like she was the type of person to go and blabber about it, she wasn't the daughter of that goddess. She kept stuff to herself, unless it was a life or death situation. She wondered how to get this kid to talk more and quit being antisocial.

"We all have bad pasts. Heck, thats what happens to people like us. I'm not saying I know you, but I could help. If this pertains to your case I can summon the dead." Felicity said leaving the last sentence dangling. She wasn't sure if he had a dead relative or not. One thing was for certain and that was that this kid needed some sort of help or closure. Or perhaps she had it all wrong and this kid was really just full of antisocial, negative energy. If so, she still felt bad for the kid. She didn't know him, and it was very unlikely of her to try to work about peoples problems.

Yet, she felt he needed something off his chest. She could almost sense. What, she didn't know. If he totally blocked her out she could always try to convince Remus for his file, or maybe send a lare into the archives and get it. Someone must know something about this black haired kid of Vulcan.

outfit: singed camp shirt, jeans, messy hair
words: 458
notes: Felicity is just a curious prying person

[Deleted]

Edmund's whole plan of becoming a functional mute had been ruined by this Camp. It was kind of unfair how one summer, heck, one hour, could wreck a life. In the end, it was the fact that he was in a camp with lots and lots of people. Edmund didn't like mass amounts of people. It reminded him of school way too much, and he had hated school. So, in the face of many people, he had given up becoming a mute. Instead, he settled for abrupt, semi to non courteous, flat, and short. Kind of cold, but at least it was some form of communication. It was true that they were all "the same" here. They were all of half godly blood and all that good stuff, but they weren't the same at all at the same time. Splendid little Roman Camp. Why the hell was he still here again? Then again, he probably had no right to complain. Someone around this gods forsaken camp probably had it worse off.

By the light of the fire, he saw her figure rise and walk closer to him. She stopped a respectable distance away, so he didn't say anything. He carefully turned the sword and gave it another hit; the metal was slowly, but surely starting to get back into it's original shape. Then all he'd do is reinforce it, sharpen it, and hand it back. Simple. He didn't even stop working on the sword. "I'm fine," he muttered. What they said was true: if you repeated something enough... it became true. This was his new normal. Not the best normal, but it had been working fine for six years. He inhaled slightly and semi looked up. "You?" he asked, his voice slipping from it's usual emotionless to semi-courteous. He may be Negative Nancy, emotionless, and a jerk for 24/7.99% (and this camp did nothing to help it) but the other .01% still remembered what manners were.

People like us... Half immortal. Born to die before the age of 21. Little treats for monsters and the gods' little puppets. And that, class, is the life of a demigod. It was kind of good that she said she didn't know him. That's the way he was aiming for... for, well, forever. No one would ever know. That's what he had hated when his aunt forced him into therapy. The guy thought he knew. Edmund was fine in asking for help with weapons, with fighting, and with forging. Well, it was more like he made the mistakes and then absorbed/applied their advice to help him fix what he had done wrong. That was one thing. Asking for help on a personal level was a big no no in the life book of Edmund. Compiled at age nine. Although, he couldn't deny that his usually dark, emotionless brown eyes kind of had a slight interest when she said she could summon the dead.

Well duh, she's a child of Pluto, of course she can summon dead people, Edmund internally kicked himself. "Oh..." he said, letting himself nod very slightly. "Almost forgot you guys could do that." He tapped the sword again, finally hitting it back into a straight position. Ed laid it on a very thin, elevated piece of metal and started to smooth out the imperfections that the hammer had made.

OOC: Ed suddenly muse rushed me >.<
IC: 576

[Deleted]

Felicity raised an eyebrow when Edmund replied that he was fine. More then likely he was just lying to himself and not wanting anyone to get involved. Which begged the questions as to why Felicity was being very nosy about this individual. Could it be lack of conversation or could it be some greater destiny that she has to help him, though that seems very unlikely, even for a demi-god. When Edmund continued to ask her the common questions followed by the before statement she couldn't help but hear a sincerity in his normal monotone voice. She was almost taken aback by the change in tone. She smiled, she felt as if her constant prodding might actually open up this anti social kid. "Me? Well for me it's been a very bipolar day, if that helps explain my attitude." Felicity replied with a smirk.

She watched Edmund after her statement and noticed a flicker in his eyes. She smirked, perhaps she had gotten him. Though when he replied in his causal monotone voice and only gave a simple nod in response Felicity became confused. This kid was harder to understand then any of the Apollo kids rhymes. He keeps getting her confused, one second she feels like he could get the boy to talk and then the next she gets a door slammed in her face. Though she was determined. She would keep trying to open that door, even if the knob falls off. She was going to make Edmund her socializing project. Could it be because she was also once very anti-social and felt the need to not talk to anyone? Maybe. Felicity felt good about coming up with the idea of being a molder to help strengthen Edmund social life, though she will be sure to keep him away from some campers. Not everyone here was people you would want to be friends with, dear Gods. Also, Gods, if Edmund met one he would probably be vaporized to his lack of social conduct.

"Well yeah, every child or descendant of the Olympians have some special talent. You must have one too, besides being a great forger." Felicity spoke as Edmund hammered the sword. Each stroke undoing the imperfections that were originally embedded in the sword. Even though it seemed normal to some demi-gods Felicity was always impressed with others talents. She could stand there all day watching Vulcans descendants fix and make thinks, Apollos descendants do archery, and so on. People just tended to be scared of her powers, though if they absolutely needed some closure with a dead relative, Felicity was willing to comply. However her other abilities just caused grief. Raising hellfire, moving geo-related objects, dominion over the dead, raising the dead, and others. Most people just ran in tower. "But if you do ever need my...abilities. Just let me know okay." Felicity said as she picked up a straw hammer looking object and examined it.

outfit:
word count: 517
notes: Muse attack!!

[Deleted]

Edmund's blank eyes flickered up to Felicity. She was looking skeptical, with her eyebrows raised. He pretended not to notice and put his attention back to the sword, letting his mind wander in the very slightest. He felt like he didn't even know himself sometimes. Was he fine? Honestly? He didn't even know. Her being skeptical wasn't helping him figure it out. Was this normal of demigods? Maybe it came with the deja vu, dyslexia, and ADHD. Or it was completely separate and he was actually loosing his mind. Or maybe it was just him being him. He'd place his money (if he had any) on the latter. He had turned cold... but still had some leftover remembrances of actually being pleasant. And those remembrances sometimes flashed quite randomly. "Oh," Ed gave a very slight nod. Would explain her storming in and demanding a sword fix one moment then being pleasant and asking how he was the next. "It helps a tad," he murmured, still smoothing out the sword.

He wondered if Felicity would be bothered away by him like so many others had. Ed honestly didn't care at any rate. Sometimes, he wondered what he looked like to some people. Just a quiet, somewhat crazed, emotionless, antisocial Vulcan boy that showed flashes of a somewhat nice disposition? Probably. Either he'd bother them away with his jerk like personality, or just confuse the heck out of them. Well good. That was the way he wanted it to be. He wanted people to just stay away from him. It was just easier that way. He did it to everyone, so hopefully individuals wouldn't take it too personally, but hopefully they did so they'd stay away. It had worked for six years, so there was no evidence that it would all of the sudden fail.

"True," Ed agreed, nodding his head slightly, still kicking himself for the moment where he forgot to put together her Pluto blood with being able to raise spirits. All demigods had something from their immortal half. He had...forging, mechanical skills, and craftsmanship. He was still interested in all the different powers that different demigods possessed. In a way, it was almost still amazing to him. It was almost like in the comic books he had read: all those people with super powers. He gave a slight shrug at her second comment. He was still wary of peer praise. Besides, to him, his powers really didn't seem like much. He had grown up with them; he more had fascination with other people's. Besides, making a sword or plane couldn't really compare to how Neptune's could move water, how Ceres' could create plants, and Pluto certainly had it's pros as well... "Not really," he grumbled. "I forge, fix... wood work, and that's pretty much it," he said with a shrug.

Ed took the hilt of the sword and gently, but firmly slid it from underneath the hammer so the entire sword length was further straightened from the force of the hammer. After the first run through, Ed looked at the metal carefully, checking for any more nicks or bumps. At the sound of Felicity's voice, he looked up and at her face. She looked pretty serious... He paused a moment, just thinking about what she said, before nodding and running the blade under the hammer again. "Sure," he said, his voice dangling between sarcastic and serious.

IC: 584

[Deleted]

Felicity had to admit that this was on tough nut to crack. Seriously, what was she doing still trying to talk to the guy who obviously wanted nothing more then to enjoy his solitude. Yet, as crazy and nosy Felicity was she was also equally stubborn. She didn't care if she spent years visiting the forge in her free time she will crack this black haired antisocial son of Vulcan.

Felicity raised an eyebrow at the lack of interest Edmund had towards his own powers. He must've been proud of something involving it. Without Vulcan kids all of the Legion would be without swords. Without swords they would all have to rely on their powers, needless to say some would never make it. Heck, even Felicity was grateful for a Vulcan kid for crafting the sword and now, mending it. They always felt under appreciated but Felicity was certainly glad that they were around. "Pretty much it? Edmund, you have only cracked the surface! Imagine what wonders you could construct! Anything you can think of you can concoct! You think you have nothing but you are probably even more powerful then me." Felicity stated with truth in her voice.

Felicity laughed as she grabbed a spare piece of bent metal and tried hammering it back to an unbent shape. However, it only made matters worse. She let out a giggle. "See? I have no idea what I'm doing and am probably making it worse. However, your brain is hardwired to automatically fix this, make it reach its full perfection and potential. Heck, with these one sheet of bent metal you could probably mold it into a bird that would sing you to sleep. That's how special Vulcans kids are. Never think any less of your birthright." Felicity said at the end of her monologue. She had no idea what came upon her and made her suddenly bust out a speech, but heck she hoped it maybe made a kink in Edmunds armor. If not, then the Gods must have cursed this boy at birth to never socialize.

Felicity noted that Edmunds "sure" seemed a little sarcastic. What was it going to be to tempt this boy into being in a full fledged conversation? Suddenly she had an idea, she concentrated on the gut feeling demi-gods get when they summon their power. Suddenly purple smoke enveloped around the forge showing lares of past sons and daughters of Vulcan working. Some making majestic creations that received praise.They scene only lasted two minutes before Felicity made it disperse. She sat down on a stoll before falling over. "Even though most of you go unnoticed I believe that you, Edmund, will one day go in the record books of New Rome for something memorable." Felicity said with a smile before curling her arms on the table and laying her head on top of them staring at Edmund while he worked.

"What is it that you are doing anyway? It might come in handy in case I find the forge empty one day in the middle of an emergency." Felicity asked. Though it was probably just her curiosity getting the best of her again. Gods, she had to get that checked.

outfit:
word count: 592
notes: IDK why she is trying to be a morale booster, or why I suddenly made her bring dead kids XD

[Deleted]

Edmund seriously wanted to know why she was still here and trying to talk to him. It kind of confused him to no end. What the heck did she see here that warranted him being under her interrogation? Why didn't she do what nearly everyone else did at this gods forsaken camp? Roll her eyes, shut up, and leave it alone. That was much easier (for him), and he had gotten so used to it by now, it wouldn't bother him at all. In fact, he would have welcomed a physical attack. He was easily much more used to that. But this... almost friendly talking? Here? No. Not all. Here they were supposed to be rough, tough, suck it up. He had got that down pat at age.... he didn't even know.

He and his powers had somewhat of a love/hate relationship. Much like what he had with fire. Now that he was semi over his fire phobia, he could stand the forge. He could learn all of the skills that had probably been already running through his veins. Then again, on the opposite end, he was still terrified of it. His powers could get pretty interesting at times. He blindly fixed his dad's laptop once, and no one in the family, including him, could explain why. Ed just supposed that since he was the one who had the powers, it wasn't exactly as such a big deal as someone who didn't. He found everyone else's powers fascinating. He looked up as she started talking and just blinked every few seconds. Okay, what the heck brought this on?

His eyes tracked her as she took up a piece of metal and attempted shaping it... and then continued talking. Bird that sang someone to sleep... didn't think of that. Wish he had... seven years ago. At the end of her little speech he just nodded mildly. "You finished with your diagnosis, Dr. Phil?" he asked, eyebrows raised slightly. "Besides, by definition of immortal half and status, you are and always will be more powerful than me," he said matter of factly with a shrug. Good thing too. He didn't want a lot of power. Suddenly he saw purple. Everywhere. And then spirits. Everywhere. Edmund tensed very slightly and bit his tongue, but ordered himself to stay put, despite his increasing heart rate. He watched them for the short duration and then they all vaporized. Good thing he didn't spot anyone he knew there, but he couldn't deny, that spirit mirage thing was amazing.

A stool scraped the forge floor. Ed looked over and saw Felicity going to fall forward. He automatically went to grab her arm to keep her from falling, but it was too late. She ended up topping over. Right... that probably must have drained her. It didn't take her that long to recover enough strength to prop herself on the table though. Ed looked at the daughter of Pluto, his face softening in the slightest. "You alright?" he asked, his voice once again slipping into semi-courteous and even a little concerned. At her comment he looked down, once again and started to work on her sword. His averted face trying to hide the small smirk that had flashed across his face. "Sure, memorable. For potentially being one of the most antisocial, grumpy person the legion has seen in years," he scoffed, once again back to carefully smoothing out the metal.

At her question, he gave a slight shrug. "Heated it first so I could hammer it back into it's original shape. Then straighten it out from all the hammering. It gets sharpened last... just as a bonus."

OOC: LOL it's all good
IC: 624

[Deleted]

Felicity couldn't help but laugh when he called her Doctor Phil. She will admit that she had gone on an unexpected tangent that resulted in her sounding much more like a moral booster, which she wasn't entirely sorry for, the kid needs one. She grinned. "Sometimes powers doesn't signify actual power. I think your pretty powerful because you can make a life outside of New Rome. You can actually leave, some of us are going to be stuck in this barren place until we die." Felicity stated with a little venom. Not that she hated it here, okay that was a lie. Though she wasn't being attacked every three seconds by a monster so that was a plus to being here, right?

After he little exhaustion stumble she grinned at the concern in Edmunds voice. "Yeah, thanks. And wow! Did I catch an emotion in your voice?" Felicity asked with a teasing grin on her face. She meant it only in a smile jest and prayed to the Gods he didn't take it too seriously. For Petes sake she finally got the kid to start saying more then five words at at time. She should be given a metal or something! Felicity laughed at his comment. True, he probably would be memorialized for that but it was him admitting that which caused it to be humorous.

She swore she got him even smirk. Though it could have been a flicker in the flames casting shadows. "Well, you know what they say. Admission is the first sign of a cure. Who knows, maybe if I could request the real doctor Phil to speak with you, you could come back a whole new person. Or you would end up causing the guy to commit suicide at your unresponsive nature. " Felicity said with a smirk. She could just see it now. The old man asking about Ed and Ed just glancing off into who knows where as the audience is silent. Everything is silent, except for the elderly man getting frustrated at the anti-social kid. The thought of that made Felicity grin.

Felicity nodded as he explained what he was doing but honestly he made it sound so simple it caused Felicity to knit her eyebrows. It had to be more complex then that. She shrugged and gave up trying to figure out the basics of forging. She was a graveyard person, or so she was told, not a forger. Though she couldn't help but wonder how to do the sharpening. She had seen movies where you just ran a stone against it and then it magically became sharp. Felicity tensed before asking her question, she wasn't sure how Edmund would take to it. "Can I help." Felicity squeaked out. "With sharpening I mean." Felicity said as she swallowed causing her dry throat to become moist again. It was so out of her element to try to forge but she was a curious critter and well, if a mistake is made at least she could learn from it.

outfit:
word count: 564
notes:

[Deleted]

Graphic Credit to Cori!

Despite his usual serious, angry demeanor, Edmund still semi had a sense of humor. Albeit it was dry, sarcastic, and could be taken all wrong, but it was there. Whether the the receiving end found it funny or not, was entirely up to them. Then again, everything about him was perception. His idea of humor usually included movie/TV show/book references. He wasn't entirely sure why Felicity started to be all happy, be the morale booster, cheer leading type. Maybe it was the bipolar thing she had been talking about. Edmund just have a slight shrug. "Haven't really thought about life after service," he grumbled. Did he ever? Two things that Ed tried to avoid thinking about (but would think of them anyway): life before the Legion, and life after the Legion. True, he could leave... but he had no where to go. Who would take a twenty year old, antisocial with no education? Maybe he would just stay here... the mortal world had nothing for him except bad memories, anyway.

Edmund really hadn't exactly meant for his voice to slip, but even under all his angry-emotionless exterior, he actually didn't really enjoy seeing people get hurt outside of training. He had seen enough of that. Fight training he understood, and he had no problem whacking someone silly. Outside of the arena though, he was slightly more sensitive to pain. He gave a semi nod as she said she was alright, and let his face slip back into its usual emotionless state. "No, I think you may have started imagining things," he said, very light sarcasm edging his voice. At her laughing, he gave a slight shrug. Yes, Edmund knew he was antisocial, cold, and a jerk. All too well. He wasn't above pointing it out, either. Apparently it settled as some sort of amusement to Felicity.

The sixteen year old firmly ran the hammer across the sword again, listening as Felicity spoke. His dark eyes concentrated on the metal, but didn't exactly see it. You have a problem! Admit. Get rational. Learn how to cope. Identify danger zones. He felt like he was back in the shrink's office. Of course you're grieving! Denial. Anger. Depression. Hope. Edmund hated that office. The demigod boy blinked, finally coming back into reality. Getting him on Dr. Phil? Funny. "I'd hope for the latter," Ed grumbled with his usual monotone voice and straight face. He hated counseling. He hated shrinks/therapists, but above all he hated opening up/talking. If pulled on Dr. Phil, Edmund would probably just sit there, stoned face silent. That wouldn't make much for a show. Especially when audiences these days wanted big time drama. They'd just get Edmund's silent, cold calm treatment.

He couldn't honestly say that he had always been good at forging. After staying so far away from his elements until being pushed in, it had kind of taken his toll. Besides, at first, he didn't even want to have any part of it, especially since it involved fire. Talk about mind over matter. Edmund was more content with wood blocks and exacto knives than with flames and metal. Then again, it was part of his responsibilities to Camp, besides being in it's service. Besides being a solider, he was also a repairman/weapon maker. It had grown on him over the three years he had been doing it, and he had gotten good rather fast, although that was probably contributed to being half Vulcan. He looked up as Felicity said that she could help with the sharpening. Ed nodded, inspected the blade one last time to make sure he had completely smoothed out the bumps and then handed it back to her.

OOC: ^_^ <333
IC: 634