The cream of the crop, the first cohort is the pride and joy of the legion. These campers consist of the strongest fighters, the most powerful legionnaires, and the best families. They're at the top of the Roman social ladder and have a tendency to get a big head because of it.
The interior of the barracks are organized with five beds on each wall; one side for the boys and the other for the girls. The legion isn't big on comfort, but the beds are fair and there is room enough for each legionnaire to personalize and utilize to feel more at home.
xxErase this monster•••I've become xxxFORGIVE ME FOR▲▲ALL THE DAMAGE DONE xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx××It's not over❝Say it's not over —— xxxxxxxxxxI'm begging for mercyx xxxI'M ONLY⊱⋮THE MONSTER YOU'VE MADE ME xxxxxxxxxxxxxAnd who I am isn't`♛who I used to be xxxxxxxxxxI'm not invincible↷ I'm not indestructible xxxxxxxxbut I'm far fromh u m a n(↯) ████████████████████████████████ xxCAN'TxxYOUxxSEExxTHExxBEAUTYxxINxxME xxCAN'TxxYOUxxSEExxTHExxBEAUTYxxINxxME
The evening was cool, Chrysanthe and her father sitting next to each other on a park bench. Chrysanthe had a book in her lap, open to the page she was currently reading, and Pluto texting on his phone with one hand as he usually did, tapping the smart phone with rapid, stunning accuracy as his free arm folded across his chest, hand tucked under his elbow in a somewhat casual position. At first, his supposed lack of attention had bothered her, but she had come to understand that he could divide his focus well, listening to every word that she said while he dealt with matters of the Underworld - both trivial and complex - from his cell phone. The man was always busy, though he somehow found the time for her, so she rarely complained like she did early on in their reconnected relationship. Through processes similar to compromise - though it was more her accepting than him changing, because he was simply impossible to change in a timely manner - she found her relationship with him tolerable and refreshing.
Finishing the chapter, she turned the page in her book, her eyes traveling to her father to see if he was finished with his task yet, when she found that everything had changed in the past twenty seconds. His arms had spread across the back of the bench, bending at the elbows so that his hands hung in a relaxedly limp position next to him as he leaned back, head tilted back as he stared at the sky, but that wasn't all. Not only was his cell phone nowhere to be seen, but neither was his dress shirt. There he sat in the jeans that he wore on casual occasions, well-built form absolutely alluring, despite him being her father. She felt her pale cheeks color easily, and her father's eyes turned to her. He arched an eyebrow, then smirked. "Come, let's get dinner," he said, but his smirk led her to believe that he was simply messing with her in one of the easiest forms. Chrysanthe stared at him, trying to find words, her mouth opening and closing in frustrating attempts.
Chrysanthe, I think it's time for you to wake up...I don't think I can take much more of your "shirtless father" dreams tonight.
Chrysanthe opened her silver eyes, taking in a hasty breath, a silent gasp. She closed her silver eyes again, allowing herself to exhale slowly to calm herself. It wasn't that the image of her father had affected her in an erotic manner, simply that she was frustrated at the recurring images of her father's body. She partially blamed the man for that - the previous summer, before Proserpina and Pluto had reconciled, the god had been changing when she had walked in and taken her out to lunch shirtless once he'd noticed how flustered she was. She had been exposed to his body for a little too long.
I'm freakin' engaged, too... she thought, running a finger along the ring that she had been given a few weeks prior to her supposed mission. Finally, she opened her eyes to look at the ceiling of the barrack she had been told she would be staying in. She didn't post up any pictures or anything, unlike most of the people staying here. She was working under the alias of Christina Felix, and if she had pictures, it would simply be a dead giveaway. She sighed internally; she would love to have pictures of her three children right now to put up. Maria, Aleksander, and Storm. She would be calling them daily, yes, but that didn't feel like enough. And her fiancé...she wanted to see him more than anything, but a break didn't seem to be anywhere in the near future. She wasn't usually an emotional person, but the previous day, when she had left, she had felt herself in tears when she closed the large door to the place she now called home.
All because her father was paranoid. And she loved her father.
Of course, that didn't stop the goddess from being angry at the discovery of his demigod children. She refused to associate with them, more because she had no reason to and she resented that her father had children other than her and the ones born before her time. Hell, she even resented the one boy that had left because of her. Granted, she was acting almost exactly like him, but at least it was just demigods here. Not that it was much better, considering they were still the spawn of her father.
Looking around, Chrysanthe noticed that there was no one in the barrack at the moment, so she set about getting ready for her day, looking around one more time before she pulled a wallet-sized picture from her bag, one she had taken of her fiancé with her three children, all of them sitting on the couch in her fiancé's plush home. She smiled just a bit, returning the picture to her bag. At least he hadn't been upset over it. He'd shrugged it off mostly - and besides, it wasn't like they wouldn't be able to speak while she was in Camp. It would just require a trip to New Rome, which she was preparing for at the moment, a cell phone placed in the inner pocket of her jacket. "And so, day two begins," Chrysanthe murmured to herself, setting a frown on her face as she looked around again, getting into her act for the moment.
