Jupiter's temple is the largest one standing on Temple Hill, which is only fitting since it represents the temple of the king of the Roman gods and goddesses. It is a marble white pavilion ringed with white columns that supports a domed roof, where clouds are usually seen swirling around.. The temple's ceiling reaches approximately sixty feet in height and is also open so that the winds may come and go. The marble floor is etched with mosaics and Latin inscriptions of prophecies. In the middle of the floor is a large marble altar and golden status of Jupiter himself holding the Master Bolt. The augur is often found here, and this is one of two places where Imperial Gold can be made.
Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 7:52 pm
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The morning was cool, and so he had worn a leather jacket. Now, it lay beside him on the piano bench, the piano having been brought early in the morning by a few Ares and Apollo campers, simply because it was one of his few passions since the incident years ago. He could still write music, even if he couldn't dance to it. His fingers pressed lightly, delicately on the keys before him, nimbly causing sweet chords and harmonies. His face was neutral, content, as he listened to the chords coming from his own design, not even looking at the sheet music that he had written on what he had so far as he played note after note perfectly. Finally, though, he played a rather sour chord and frowned in frustration. "Always right there," he murmured in annoyance, tapping on the ledge where he would usually clip his sheet music lightly. He didn't know where to proceed from this point. The lyrics were done, as well as the melody. It was simply the fact that he couldn't find a chord that he liked with the tune there. He shook his head, leaning back a bit before he started to sing the melody with it, hoping something would come if he sang the lyrics. The same sour note caused him to throw his sheet music to the air in frustration, hands slamming on the keys angrily. It was the way he released his frustration and anger, considering he couldn't get anything out physically. Sighing, he looked around, finding no one nearby, and shook his head.
He was a generally calm person when he had company, and the way he kept calm was holding everything in to release in a limited physical manner. He rolled his shoulders, hand grasping the simple cane that was hanging over the side of the piano, and using it to push himself up and steady himself as pain erupted in his leg. A hoarse choke escaped him as the pain resumed after a few hours, and he closed his eyes to get a handle on himself. A few years prior, he had been trampled on by an elephant, his right leg completely shattered. His little brother had healed him to where he could still walk, but it was very painful, as the bones had finished fusing together wrong, and his muscles were constantly shifting against jagged edges. Well, so he had been told by a very experienced healer. Even he couldn't manage to heal him up, and it made Damian rather depressed.
Slowly, he hobbled over to paper after paper. His muscles adjusted to the pain and he was soon able to hide any pain. This process happened every morning. He collected his sheet music, sliding it into his folder and pushing it back into the brown canvas backpack he had brought with him today. He sat down again, leaning back on the piano, since he was intent on taking a break. In truth, he was off his game.
How could he not be? He'd gotten a new set of visions, and they disturbed him greatly. Everyone believed that being the Augur was great, that flashes of prophecy were the most amazing gift because you could see the future. No one was willing to understand that the flashes that you saw were involuntary, uncontrolled. What he had seen the previous day chilled him to the bone, and he still felt ill to his stomach. A shudder escaped him, and he looked up to the sky. I know I don't ask much, and I don't offer much, but I just want to know what that meant. It was like a nightmare... He knew he wouldn't get an answer, even from his grandfather. Seeing these flashes didn't make them any clearer, though, so as the sun started to climb into the sky, Damian looked at it directly. At this distance, it was impossible to make out the shape of the chariot. His grandfather, Apollo, was driving it, though. That was for certain.
His eyes finally turned down to the ground and he leaned forward, both hands poised on the cane, resting his chin on his knuckles as he almost doubled over, closing his eyes and just waiting for someone to come see him today. "I feel like playing, but I don't know what to play. I feel like dancing, but I obviously can't. Maybe I should just go to Ledo's today..." He shook his head. He was horrid at plans; he'd probably just sit at the piano all day, like every day.
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