Yes. You read that right. Greece has fallen...or at least the camp that has catered to Greek demigods for over three millennia has fallen. Camp Half-Blood had a traitor in their midst. A traitor with powerful allies who quickly burned the camp to the ground. Some were lost, some killed, and the rest who remained began the long trek across the country to the only place where they might be safe: Camp Jupiter.
Chiron banded what campers they had left, told them of the other camp and sent word to Camp Jupiter pleading for shelter. Chaos now threatens the camp daily with the arrival of new Greek campers to this foreign camp. This camp with strange customs and rules. While on the Roman end the Praetors are forced to hold up a balancing act of providing sanctuary while also trying to find the traitor before their home suffers the same fate as Camp Half-Blood.
New alliances are forged, new enemies are made, and these two worlds have to find some way to work together for the future of them all. Which side are you on? Which position will you take? It's time to jump in the fray because Greece has fallen.
ANNOUNCEMENT
Welcome to our site! We are so glad you are here my friend. Pull up a seat, set your weapons down and let's chat. We are a non-canon, percy jackson RP site based in Camp Jupiter. Both Greek and Roman demigods allowed. Legacies are limited. We have a very small word requirement for posting and we're pretty relaxed around here. We like drama but not the RL kind so keep this place nice and friendly. If you've got questions don't hesitate to ask!
GHF is the product of the mind of Addi; inspired by the percy jackson and heroes of olympus series by rick riordian. this is a work of fiction. names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. several beautiful remodels (including mini profile, profile) were designed by deltra of gangnam style and edited by Haya to fit the site's concept and needs. most images and gifs used for the skin are taken from assassins creed, the percy jackson movies and various google finds. all contents are copyright to their original owners. all characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. all images are copyright to their original owners. if you see an image/gif which is yours and you would like us to specifically credit you or remove it please do not hesitate to let us know in the cbox with a link.
[attr="class","THREAD1CONTENT"] He couldn’t count the number of times the son of Mars had wanted to slap the hilt of his sword against a Greek’s head for messing up a simple move. They had no formation, no discipline, and the worst was they continued hesitating as they fought against the Romans. They were slashing instead of stabbing, failing in finding an opening in the armor. He snickered at a Graecus before nodding at his Roman opponent to finish it. Show mercy. Maybe. It was a sad thing to watch. And at some point, he couldn’t stand looking at their miserable faces anymore.
Squeezing his calves softly he signaled his horse to move and so it backed away from the group to walk towards another. Dareios was overseeing today’s training, something he hadn’t done in a while, simply because the Greeks brought so much work with them that he just didn’t have the time for his regular schedule. Even though the two Praetors split the work between them it was still a lot. It was easy to blame the Greeks for all of it - or at least most of it. He couldn't wait to be rid of them again but he knew that it was wishful thinking for the time being. There was no getting rid of them until the far future.
As he wandered around the field, golden armor glistening in the sunlight, he watched one sparring match after another but none caught his attention until his cold gaze fell upon a legionnaire of the first cohort, his own cohort before he became Praetor of the legion, and he watched her displaying her abilities and strength. He watched her manipulate the water, shift and shape it, moving it around with little to no effort. Dareios had always been awestruck whenever he watched Morrigan use her powers. He wasn’t jealous or offended that he wasn’t capable of doing so as he had powers of his own. They might be different from those but he could easily match them. As a proud son of Mars, he wouldn't think otherwise even if proven the opposite.
Dareios maneuvered his horse around a group of training legionnaires as he approached the daughter of Neptune. The legionnaires who had gathered around her to watch parted so he could pass through to the front. He looked down from the back of his horse, clapping in approval of her skills to some extent. "Great show but what we need are responsible soldiers, not reckless heroes who don’t know when to stop."
The Praetor’s head was spinning as he took his place next to Morrigan. Hazel eyes flicked nervously between her face, eyes closed, skin pale, too pale for it to be a good sign, and the scarlet spot on her shirt. The blood seemed to never endingly seep through the fabric, the puddle next to her growing bigger and bigger by the minute despite their joint efforts to keep the wound under control. It didn’t seem to be working yet he continued to keep his hand pressed against it, ignoring the strong metallic scent hovering around him.[break][break]
He knew it wasn’t Kade’s fault… she shouldn’t be blamed for it, but still, he couldn’t help the anger that was threatening to rise up inside of him, forming a tight knot in his throat. It was the hatred against the Greeks that was more overpowering. Dareios had no issues blaming them for everything. If it weren’t for them, these intruders, then Kade might never have had this fatal vision. If it weren’t for them then the healers would be available instead of being out to take care of the mess they made. The messes they continuously keep making. He swallowed hard, glancing over to the Augur, his lips a hard line.[break][break]
His expression was a wild mix of worry, anger, coldness, an ever-changing portrait of emotions. He nodded as she told him that she would try to heal her and moved his hand accordingly when he was told to do so. "Tape?" he repeated, rising to his feet. Dareios brushed his blood-stained hands on his clothes before venturing around the Infirmary to find some tape or anything sticky he could find. Drawer after drawer he pulled open with perhaps a little too much force, however, there was no time to waste by being careful. He didn’t care that he was creating a mess, that drawers weren’t pushed back in and just left open. Noah could take care of this later and scold him as much as he would like… if he dared to.[break][break]
After what felt like way too long he finally found something that looked like medical tape, taking it with him to Kade and handing it to her. The brunet nodded once more, taking the redhead’s orders without complaints, as he stepped back over to Morrigan. He knelt down, not minding the blood that stained his clothes even more, and slid his arms under the motionless body of his co-Praetor before lifting her up and onto the next bed. Careful not to cause the wound to get worse he, as gently as he could, put her down on the clean sheets. "Are you sure you can do this? If not we can call for someone else-" He didn't want to doubt Kade, he certainly shouldn't considering the situation they were in, but seeing how bad it was he couldn't necessarily make peace with a simple try. [break][break]
The scene that unfolded in the small room at the Infirmary almost felt like a dream, an illusion even. To be frank, Dareios was eager to take an illusion created by some gifted demigod rather than the harsh reality he was soon going to be confronted with. As he entered the room he immediately scanned it for threats and danger but the only people he could see were Kade and Morrigan. From what he saw it looked like his co-Praetor had been attacked. He did not like that thought.[break][break]
Kade was having difficulties finding the words, stuttering, and pausing too many times. "Kade, just tell me. If anyone was her-" Dareios instantly stopped mid-sentence when she told him about the dagger. His anger faded partly because he could never be angry at Kade. His eyes flicked to Morrigan on the floor and her wound was inflicted by the aforementioned dagger. It didn’t need a genius to add one plus one. He dropped down to one knee next to Morrigan, eyes narrowing at the blood-soaked shirt. [break][break]
"I know. I know that Kade." he attempted to offer some resemblance of reassurance. He wasn’t sure if it helped because that had always been Morrigan's part of the job. She was the strategist, the mastermind behind everything. Dareios was more like… the brute force, fear, and dread part of the duo. Swallowing, but trying to keep calm and a cool head, he listened to Kade and slipped his hand under hers, applying pressure on the entry wound. [break][break]
"The healers were called out just moments ago. I passed them rushing towards the stables. An accident with two unicorns and a bunch of injured Greeks who didn’t expect the bladed horns." he told her, eyes fixed on Morrigan. In any other situation, he would have laughed at it, at the Graeci, at their stupidity, but there was no time and no reason to laugh now. This situation was more than just plain serious. [break][break]
"What are you planning to do?" he asked her, a hint of nervosity slipping past the calm of his voice. He felt the warmth of Morrigan's blood against his skin, his hand slipping for a moment but within a second he had it secured back in place. "I dare you to leave me, Morrigan."[break][break]
[attr="class","THREAD1CONTENT"] He watched her attentively as she began gathering all the things they needed to cook pasta. Dareios responded to her laugh with a small, close-lipped smile, eyebrows both raised in interest. "Well, if you tell me how one stops being big and scary? I don’t think it’s in my ability to shrink and…-", his face contorted in repulsion at the thought, "-smile all the time." Shrugging it off because he didn’t think there was anything he could or would do about it. Being scary was his trademark. It’s how he earned his respect with most legionnaires and even though it wasn’t the healthiest way to do it he couldn’t care less.
The son of Mars lifted his glass once again in cheer for her helping him with the cooking. "True. I hope. My simple presence might cause the noodles to catch fire and burn." He took another sip of the soda before putting the glass back down, curious eyes watching her put the salt into the water while getting ready to cut up anything she would give him. Did he once mistake sugar for salt? Absolutely. Did he make that mistake again? Yes.
Curling his fingers around the handle of the kitchen knife he instantly got a feel for it, its weight, how it could be moved, and most importantly how to cut the vegetables with it. He twirled it between his fingers once before placing the tip against the wooden cutting board, spinning it as he waited. His gaze rested on her, following her every movement as she walked around the kitchen to find ingredients, her bright red hair almost working like a beacon in the dimly lit room. When she asked him if she really looked that bad he squinted at her, tilting his head slightly to the side. His hand moved forward, catching a red curl that hung in her face and pushed the lock behind her ear. "Much better," he said, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as if that one strand of hair had changed her whole outer appearance. "I didn't mean to say you look horrible horrible. And I don't think these days anyone would care. Also, the Greeks look much worse after their travels."
He turned back to the counter, the knife back in his hands in an instant as he tossed it up and caught it with ease. He looked over all the stuff she managed to somehow find in the various places the kitchen had to offer and took a deep breath. Dareios watched her showing him how small to cut the vegetables, mimicking her gesture with his own free hand that wasn’t holding the knife, nodding to tell her he understood. Pondering over the option of meat or no meat she had given him he shrugged once again. "I don’t really care. Food is food. Pasta is pasta I suppose. Whichever is easier and quicker."
Dareios winced inaudibly at the mention of another vision involving him, his lips pulling back at the corners in a grimace. Although it shouldn’t surprise him, being Praetor and all, it still wasn’t the greatest feeling knowing he was being part of yet another vision given by the gods. It made him feel like he was a puppet and Camp Jupiter was the god’s dollhouse or as if their children were merely pawns in a game of chess. He would at least prefer to be a knight or a bishop. A rook even, as their rank is above pointwise, but their movements were too restricted for his taste. He didn’t dare to assume himself as a queen but if he could he would.
Several visions prior to this one ran through his mind and he forgot Kade had asked him something about little kicks and tangy tastes. The brunet shook his head softly, eyes focusing back on the daughter of Apollo as he shifted his attention back to her entirely. "What? Oh, a little kick would be great. I still have a lot of work to get to after this," he said quickly once he realized his mistake of forgetting about it.
Looking down at the onion he had placed on the cutting board earlier he gave the knife a quick glance before getting to the task she assigned him. Cutting the vegetables. He certainly wasn’t a good cook but he was skilled at using a knife like a pro. Chopping up onions wouldn’t be that different from chopping up legionnaires monsters. He swiftly cut both ends of the onion, wrinkling his nose at the sharp scent that was emitted from it the moment the knife cut through the onion. "Was there anything disturbing in this vision? If it’s me dying again then that’s nothing to worry about at all," he told her, a derisive chuckle following his announcement.
He honestly wasn’t worried about it. Of course, he couldn’t speak for others. Surely, Morrigan would disapprove but there was nothing they could do. Death was a part of life and a young death was something every demigod should be contempt with since it was nothing unusual for their kind. Dareios cleared his throat, literally cutting through the silence with the knife as he chopped the onion in pieces as big as Kade had shown him. He wriggled his nose once again, sniffling quietly as the odor went up to his nostrils like toxic gas.
Blinking in an attempt to clear his vision which was blocked by tears summoned by the onion he rubbed his arm over his eyes, slightly moving aside and accidentally bumping shoulders with Kade. "Sorry. Ugh, I forget how awful onions are. Worse than the Greeks despite their similarities. Smelly and hard to deal with." He sniffled, his nose and eyes burning ever so slightly. Mental note to use dried onion powder in the future should he ever try his hand at cooking again.
Exhaustion was prodding him, lulling him into the realm of sleep. His lids were heavy as they draped over dry eyes for just a brief moment. Sleep had yet to embrace him fully but as he relaxed, despite unwillingly, he found himself standing in the Fields of Mars. The sun had risen, shining down on him in all its might. He could feel the heat on his skin, pearls of sweat forming on his forehead. His breath was shaky as if he had just run, his legs slightly wobbling beneath him. As he looked down on himself he noticed that he was smaller and skinnier than his present self. In this daydream, he was younger… happier. [break][break]
A smaller hand, its skin softer and less calloused than his own, curled around his arm, sliding down until their hands were interlaced. She pulled him forward, stepping over the soft grass that glimmered with morning dew. Dareios couldn’t see her face, her dark curls hiding it from him, but he heard her laugh. A sound he used to be able to recognize anywhere and anytime. But now it was a sound he had almost forgotten… After all these years he wondered if he could precisely remember her features, the exact color of her eyes, the feel of her hair when he curled it around his finger, the look of her dimples on her cheeks when she smiled… [break][break]
The faintest hint of a smile played on his lips before closeby rustling forced his attention to shift towards the source. He kept still, part of him hoping - not for himself but for whoever was approaching him - to just keep going. Of course, they didn’t. The sound of hooves on the ground coming closer and closer had him sigh in utter disappointment. There it went… his chance to relax. Do yourself a favor and just keep walking. the brunet thought, mentally rolling his eyes when they didn’t and instead bent over him.[break][break]
Cold eyes flicked at the blonde, although his heavy lids made it quite hard to keep them open. His hand was itching to pull out one of the knives strapped to his leather bracer around his forearm. She was shaking his shoulders, as if he was unconscious, and proceeded to ask him if he was alright. Without a warning, he pushed himself up into a sitting position with an even more annoyed sigh. He looked at her, giving her a habitual quick once over before letting out a scoff. It wasn’t a face he recognized as one of their legionnaires. At least this one had enough brain to address him with his correct title.[break][break]
"Yes, I can hear you just fine," he said, softly rolling his left wrist in front of him as if meaning to warm it up before a punch. "What is it with you Greeks frolicking around like this is a playground for children? Seems like you don’t possess the ability to respect discipline or curfews. No surprise your survival rate is down to Tartarus." Dareios commented gruffly, running a hand through his wet curls before standing, carelessly kicking up mud as he did so. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he added, "Please, take your deficient self back to your barracks before I change my mind and escort you right back."[break][break]
Dareios watched him carefully, narrowing those cold hazel eyes at the boy for a second when the smirk appeared on his features. He would very much like to not just wipe it off his face but cut it off. There was a limit of what he could let slip as a mere mistake made by a Greek demigod because they didn’t know any better, but that limit was clearly reached as the boy had the audacity to roll his eyes at the Praetor. "Caesar si viveret, ad remum dareris."[break][break]
The reckless behavior continued and Dareios wasn’t sure if he had heard right. Pencil pusher? Turtle necks? Delivery boy? His warriors? Was this Graecus sick? Delusional perhaps? The brunet raised his eyebrows, adjusting his grip on the folders he was holding. It was strenuous to keep himself from smacking it right across his arrogant face. "Mhm. As far as I know, your warriors are scattered all over Long Island in piles of ash. You better wear a mask to not accidentally swallow some of their remains." As the words left his lips he mirrored the tilt of his head, the silhouette of a sneer looming on his features. [break][break]
Dareios wasn’t known to be the understanding kind, not in the least. He didn’t care if that kid was going through some sort of post-traumatic stress syndrome, therefore saying things that would just get him killed. If only Terminus hadn’t claimed his weapons before he was allowed to cross the border into New Rome. [break][break]
To say the least, he was not amused. Not at all. It had been quite some time since anyone had dared to utter such words towards the son of Mars Ultor, the Praetor of the twelfth legion fulminata, one of the two leaders of Camp Jupiter. “If I were you I would start learning how to keep my mouth shut in front of authority. Otherwise, someone might accidentally cut off that loose tongue of yours.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off of the boy, but in his peripheral vision he could spot heads turning towards them, some gawking, some hurridly ushering their partners away from the scene. And oh, what a scene this was going to become. [break][break]
Taking a couple of steps towards the boy, whose name he had not revealed yet, Dareios lowered his chin slightly to sneer down at him. "Apparently you weren’t present during our welcome instructions. So let me show you my utmost hospitality and help you out." His lips twitched, the boy’s behavior being both frustrating and amusing. If the majority of Greeks acted like him, then he wasn’t surprised their camp was attacked – by one of their own. Dareios, admittedly, wasn’t the most popular with his legionnaires but still… if anything were to threaten their home, they would all work together to prevent anything from happening.[break][break]
He definitely wasn’t going to be lenient about the audacity that the boy spat out, but he didn’t mind offering to show him his place. "One, I am not a boy. Two, instead you will address me as Praetor. And three, I am the one who grants you refuge here. I can change that real quick. As far as I know, there is a group of Hyperborean Cyclopes lurking right outside the wards and they are starving."[break][break]
Dareios leaned over one of the tables inside the infirmary, multiple books lay open on the wooden surface. Only a few of them were about modern medicine, while the rest were written in Latin, containing information about diverse ancient healing rituals and quite a lot of dark stuff that made even the Praetor of Camp Jupiter shudder a little bit. He had personally scurried through the camp library, the one place that was rarely used by the two of them, to see if he could find anything useful.[break][break]
He was impatiently flipping through the pages before closing the most recent book a little harder than he was supposed to. Some of these were so old, they were threatening to fall apart in his hands. Knowing better, and knowing the children of Trivia, he tried to keep the damage to the minimum. For a moment he fidgeted with a piece of lavender when Noah appeared with a cup of tea. He begrudgingly accepted the mug, fingers curling around the warm ceramic. Dareios didn’t even like tea but he needed to keep his hands busy, and holding on to a mug was smarter than holding on to a sword which he might end up running through someone. Hazel eyes squinted at the brown-green liquid, the strong scent of herbs intruding his nose. [break][break]
Unsure whether or not he actually wanted to take a sip from it he moved away from the table, giving his eyes a break from the words and letters that seemed to slowly start swimming in his vision. A short break was all he could afford or wanted to at least because as long as Morrigan was still in this peculiar state he wouldn’t pause looking for something to help. The Praetor was in the middle of a conversation with the healer when he heard voices from the other room. He had seen Kade go inside but no one else was in there, still, he heard two sets of voices leaking through the curtains… and there was only one other person in there – Morrigan.[break][break]
The brunet dropped the mug as he hurried towards the voices, pulling the thin fabric aside upon entering. His eyes first found Kade, her red hair as vibrant as ever, and then they found Morrigan… sitting up on her bed. A heavy sigh of relief escaped his lips, hazel eyes slightly wide in surprise and shock. “You’re awake…” he breathed, unable to keep the surprise out of his tone. He strode over to the bed, running a hand through his hair. “Gods, Morrigan. You really scared us... me. You know how hard it is to achieve that.” [break][break]
[break][break] Meetings here, meetings there. In his years being Praetor for the Legion he never had to attend that many meetings. It was slowly starting to become really tiresome as the main topic mostly revolved around the Greeks. If there was one thing he would like not to talk about it was them, those filthy weaklings. He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his chestnut curls down to his neck where it rested for a moment. [break][break]
The other hand was holding on to various folders, filled to the max with lists, lists, and more lists. The Senate had started playing with the idea to send a group of legionnaires to Long Island, to check out the state of destruction, to investigate, to look for possible survivors, and perhaps for those who did not… survive.[break][break]
The Greeks had managed to steadily trickle into Camp Jupiter, one demigod after another, but the amount of question marks behind a lot of names was still abundant. It was a sad sight indeed, although Dareios was the last person in camp or even the entire planet earth, to feel sorry for them. Heck, he didn’t even feel the slightest of emotion outside of anger and frustration when it came to the Greeks. Whatever it was they had brought with them, be it misfortune or stupidity, had taken a toll on his legion. He wasn't a fan of that. [break][break]
The Praetor gave those folders a little shake, the hand that had rested on his neck now slipping into the pocket of his jacket. Grim eyes looked down at himself, at his clothes, having donned his uniform for more civilian attire. He was still proudly wearing the purple camp shirt underneath the black bomber jacket, but the fit and weight of the clothes threw him off slightly as he was used to the golden and purple glory of his Praetor robes. [break][break]
Even more so when someone called over, addressing him in a casual manner that immediately screamed Greek at him, as none of his legionnaires or even the residents of New Rome, would dare to insult him and his rank like this. He knew his people, thus he knew this one wasn’t one of them.[break][break]
Apathetic eyes wandered towards the source of this insolence, landing on a brunet boy. Dareios gave him a thorough look-over but nothing in this boy’s appearance sparked the smallest of interest in the son of Mars. "Indeed, Graecus. Your observation skills appear to be exceptional," he scoffed, his voice oozing with sarcasm, albeit his facial expression not wavering at all. He could have been made out of stone, like a statue, the way he looked at him. "You Greeks really have nothing better to do than to frolic around," he uttered, mentally rolling his eyes at just the mere thought of them and their attitude towards life. His attention snapped back to the brunette in front of him. "Don’t you have a lesson to partake in? Or did my warriors scare you away?"[break][break]
[attr="class","THREAD2CONTENT"] He hadn’t noticed that his hand was balled into a fist, crumbling the corner of the papers. He took a deep breath and as he breathed out slowly he released the grip on the documents. The list appeared to be endless. One name after another popping up on the sheet of crinkled paper and ink. Considering their mortality rate was rumored to be lower than that of the Roman demigods there were still a great amount left. Fascinating, really. From what he had seen so far they didn’t appear to be the… brightest bunch out there. Surely, his Greek sisters and brothers were, no doubt on them, but the others?
Expecting requests for weapons and armor so they could march right back and find out what or who had caused their camp to burn down he was baffled, dumbfounded even, that instead, they requested art supplies and campfires to roast marshmallows at and have karaoke nights. As if they didn't have more serious issues to tend to. Scoffing, he shook his head in disbelief. Dareios could feel a headache forming already. He certainly wasn’t the type for headaches or migraines but the Greeks brought all sorts of trouble with them – including being the reason for headaches.
Smoothing out the edges as best as he could before he glanced over at his co-Praetor. “If by red carpet you mean one stained with the blood of my enemies then yes. Absolutely.” The brunet turned, his glare softening a little as he looked at Morrigan picking leaves and twigs out of her hair. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. “You look like you got on a Dryad’s bad side,” he commented on her unintentional hair accessories.
However, all signs of joking around faded the moment she started talking about the barrier. Nodding, he glimpsed over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at the small group outside before they finally departed and scattered around camp with senior legionnaires leading them away. Dareios was silent for a brief moment, thinking and pondering over the malfunctioning barrier. “It never happened before,” he finally said, letting out a groan and rubbing his forehead in annoyance. Too bad. Too bad nothing got through because oh, the pleasure and joy of seeing those intruders in their orange camp t-shirts getting mauled away by a monster. Of course, he wouldn’t voice this thought out loud, at least not with company nearby.
“There was never an issue before the Greeks arrived. Why is there one now? Maybe next time there’s a hole in the barrier we can station guards around it, keep an eye on it while the children of Trivia take a closer look. There needs to be a reason why this is happening all of a sudden.” He shook his head once again as if that would help to loosen the strings that could lead to an answer. “I say it’s the Greeks. It’s their fault. It has to be,” Dareios added, spitting Greeks out with all the loathing and hatred he could grasp from within. He hasn’t met many of them yet but that didn’t stop the son of Mars from declaring war against the lot.
Crossing his arms, documents held onto between his thumb and index finger, he strode over to where Morrigan was sitting and struggling with her armor. He put them down on the bench next to her, glancing over the cuirass and her shoulder he assisted her out of it. “The news? You mean the unfortunate arrival of more enemies in orange asking for arts and craft supplies, not even to paint a fortress crimson to mimic blood but merely for fun?” Once she was free of the armor he put it down, leaning it against the bench, before pointing his finger towards someplace outside where he assumed were Greeks running around… somewhere. “I’d rather have a flock of Harpies invade us than whatever they are. Hippies? One thing is for sure… they aren’t soldiers. It's a miracle they made it to our camp.” Grunting, he resumed his position with arms crossed over his chest, expression dark and brooding.
[break][break] If he was being honest Dareios would have thought he was used to losing friends, losing those he was actually close to, the ones he had at least partly opened up to. He was proven wrong when Morrigan, his co-praetor and one of the few people who understood him and knew him, fell into a strange mythical coma with seemingly no cure available to them at the moment. Not even the healers and children of Apollo and Trivia knew how to resolve it, how to get her back. It's been quite a few distraught days.[break][break]
The son of Mars, now acting alone as the sole leader of Camp Jupiter, although of course he still had the help of the Centurions. But everyone was busy and had assignments to deal with. And if there was one thing Dareios never wanted it was a new co-praetor. No one could replace Morrigan. He would rather give up his position and retire to New Rome than work with someone else, someone less worthy in his eyes.[break][break]
And without Morrigan, the work for the Praetor was piling up with no end. He still had to deal with the new groups of Greek demigods arriving at camp, manage their lodgings, have his legionnaires built more barracks, organize patrols to make sure the wards are safe, and and and. Needless to say, sleep was another friend long gone. His eyelids were heavy, barely having the strength to keep open as he trotted back through the woods on his horse whose coat color was a mix of deep dark scarlet and brown. Fitting for the son of the god of war. [break][break]
Night had already fallen over camp, tired eyes spotting the lights of the stables in the distance through the sea of trees. Both he and his horse were soaked after a hole in the wards was discovered by an earlier patrol and heavy rain tore through the opening. It was finally fixed by the children of Trivia and one of the Greek Hecate kids but by the time they made their way through the woods to find it every single demigod at the scene was dripping wet.[break][break]
Dareios replayed the scene over and over again in his mind as he headed back, leaving a couple of guards behind to make sure someone was watching it in case the hole decided to return. He was alone now, which he didn't mind. In fact, not having to deal with anyone - especially the Greeks - sounded like such a good idea. But the idea of a nap, right there on the cold dirt sounded just as fabulous. [break][break]
Before he could stop himself he leaned sideways, only the whine of his horse interrupting his thoughts. Exhaustion seemed to welcome him with open arms and thus he let himself fall, landing on the ground with a loud thud. He was sure it should have hurt but even the pain was being soothed by exhaustion. Tired, that's what he was. Hazel eyes looked up towards the sky which was as black as always, no, even darker now, hidden by branches and leaves. This is what he needed - to rest.[break][break]
Dareios was running as fast as he could, his black combat boots stomping against the ground. He was in the middle of a training lesson but as soon as a messenger delivered the note to him he dropped everything and just ran. Beads of sweat collected on his forehead, dashing from one side of the camp to the other.[break][break]
He burst through the entrance of the infirmary about to ask where they were when he heard the sobbing and gasping from the area where the cots were. His eyes first found the red curls of Kade, following her gaze down to the still body of Morrigan, his co-praetor, laying on the floor. [break][break]
He started looking around for a healer but to his surprise - or rather shock - there was no one around. Where did they all go? Wasn't it a rule to always have at least one healer stationed at the infirmary in case something like this happens? He made a mental note to have a bit of a talk to whoever was on duty.[break][break]
The scene he stumbled into didn't make any sense to him. Morrigan down? Never would he have thought to see that. From his viewpoint, she looked alright until he moved around to stand next to Kade and he finally spotted the blotch of scarlet that tinted her camp t-shirt, marking the wound. [break][break]
"What happened?" he asked Kade, not taking his gaze off of the blonde. His voice was calm, demanding but calm. "What happened?" he repeated, feeling impatient. "Did someone attack you?" He couldn't make sense of what he was seeing, of what could have happened. An intruder or someone else who could be held responsible for this mess was the only way, the only explanation he wanted to hear. Because he would hunt that person down and make sure they were never going to see the light of the day again.[break][break]
[attr="class","THREAD1CONTENT"] After studying the cooking instructions for what felt like forever the son of Mars was fairly confident this time that he could do it and not burn down the Mess Hall and probably get banned forever - if that wasn't already the case. He heard a set of feet approaching, soft steps coming closer to the kitchen where he was but he didn't mind it too much. Giving the row of kitchen knives on the magnetic holder on the wall a quick glance he set down the box of uncooked pasta on the counter. Surprising or even scaring Dareios was a very difficult and hard task. If anyone ever accomplished it they would have to pull all the drastic measures.
'Gods Dareios, you scared me.'
Dareios turned halfway, leaning against the kitchen counter with his back, his hands had already taken hold of the pasta box again. His mind was fixated on food and eating at this moment. Looking at Kadence one side of his mouth twitched into a silhouette of a smirk. "Ah, I keep hearing that a lot," he replied, giving it a small fake apologetic shrug. His gaze moved back to the pasta box when she mentioned it would be a safe choice for him. "I hope so but given the multiple accidents that happened right here every time I tried to make my own food I wouldn't be too sure about it," he said, giving it a little shake.
Putting the pasta on the counter and pushing it into her direction he exchanged it for the glass of soda she poured for him. Hazel eyes watched the ice cubes dance around in the glass, clinking as they jiggled against the glass before he took a sip of the cold beverage. He looked at her over the brim of the glass, eyebrows slowly drawing together. "Sleep is for the weak. And asking me to share food is like asking the Minotaur not to skewer you like a kebob." He drew in a breath through his teeth, putting down the drink.
"But I might make an exception for the augur. She needs her energy more than me." Dareios gave her a quick once over before crouching to get a cutting board from one of the cupboards under the sink. He set it on the counter next to her and grabbed one of the knives on the wall, the ones he had looked at earlier. "You look worse than me," he told her, his voice rather cold as usual. He wasn't the most emotional guy around, to begin with, and being nice was already another difficult task for him. He was all for yelling and shouting at people, being angry and raging like a madman. Charming wasn't in his repertoire. "Well, I'm good at chopping stuff. Give me something to stab."
[attr="class","THREAD1CONTENT"] The son of Mars had returned his horse to the stables, enjoyed a quick bath in the deserted bathhouse, and changed into ordinary clothes, ditching his armor and uniform for once. His hair was still slightly wet, drops of water dripping down his chestnut curls in irregular intervals, leaving dark spots on his purple camp shirt here and there. If it wasn‘t for his reputation and rank he could almost get mistaken for an ordinary legionnaire. He caught his reflection in one of the mirrors on his way out of the Principia. He looked so normal, even younger if it wasn‘t for the dark shadows under his eyes indicating nights and nights of restless sleep.
Despite the hour his feet carried him over to the Mess Hall. Dareios spent a few minutes tossing and turning, trying to ignore the grumbling of his stomach but in the end, he gave up and decided to grab a quick bite to eat. The food available at the Praetor quarters was plenty but it was mostly fruits and snacks. He was craving something hot and filling.
Pushing open the doors of the Mess he walked inside, not caring if anyone was to see him. He was pretty sure no one would dare to bother or even stop him, curfew or not. Perks of being Praetor and perhaps feared by most - not all but most. Upon entering he could smell the dinner he had missed, making his lips arch downward because whatever it was it smelled delicious and he couldn‘t help but feel a little disappointed that he didn‘t get a chance to even taste it. fracking those Greeks.
He let out a sigh as he marched towards the kitchen area, hazel eyes scanning the unfamiliar territory. Dareios was good at a lot of things… unfortunately, cooking wasn‘t one of them. In fact, the number of times any attempts in the past have resulted in an accidental fire was just too… too many to count. The memory of being banned from the kitchen area lingered in his mind but he just shrugged it off. Couldn‘t deny him a meal, could they?
Dareios opened one cupboard after another, observing the contents to see if there was anything instant or just something that was easy to cook. He reached for a box of bowtie pasta and started reading the instructions on the back. It couldn‘t be too hard to cook noodles, right? … Right? His focus was entirely on the cooking instructions and a random sauce recipe printed right below.
Ave, demigod! Over the next month, all new threads created may be attacked by the Fates at any time, unless specified in the subheader. All random events will be based on prompts from the randomizer. Please refer to the event guide #2 for further and more detailed information about your character's possible fate.
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