Looking for Answers | Open
Mar 8, 2018 11:52:19 GMT -5
Post by Brett Laughlen on Mar 8, 2018 11:52:19 GMT -5
Brett was a sweaty, tired mess, just getting back from his mandatory training session with his cohort for the week, and he was unsatisfied with his performance. While the demigod had again excelled in his long range skills with the use of his bow and throwing knives, he had become completely useless when it came to close combat. Sure, Brett had always been good at boxing/wrestling due to having a twin brother, but not enough to fight someone off. He needed something to enhance the skills he already had, so he headed down to the armory. Brett hadn’t been there yet, since he’d gotten his current weapons from Axel, who’d must have gone there for him since the demigod was still getting used to the layout of camp.
Storming into the armory, Brett looked around, shocked at how many deadly and pointy things could be held in one small place. If someone were to break into here, they’d have everything to take out Camp Jupiter. It was a good thing most people couldn’t see the entrance and that these entrances were heavily guarded. He was surprised every camper had access to this building, as he walked up and down the rows of weapons, shields, what looked like bombs? Although with the weirdness of this place, he figured that they definitely weren’t normal bombs. Brett slung his bow around his back so he could touch the various items, trying to see if there was anything to help his dilemma. With a frustrated look on his face, his focus was just going through the items on the shelves, similar to how he’d go through racks of clothing, pulling out items here and there that could be a possibility.
By the time the demigod was done, he had no idea where to start with his scattered weapons. Brett only knew about the basic ones: swords, bow and arrow, and knives. He looked down at the mess he made, and frustratedly sat down on the cold floor with them. It felt good on his hot skin, and it began to calm his mind from his immediate frustration. Well, there was nothing better to do, so he began tinkering with the items.
Storming into the armory, Brett looked around, shocked at how many deadly and pointy things could be held in one small place. If someone were to break into here, they’d have everything to take out Camp Jupiter. It was a good thing most people couldn’t see the entrance and that these entrances were heavily guarded. He was surprised every camper had access to this building, as he walked up and down the rows of weapons, shields, what looked like bombs? Although with the weirdness of this place, he figured that they definitely weren’t normal bombs. Brett slung his bow around his back so he could touch the various items, trying to see if there was anything to help his dilemma. With a frustrated look on his face, his focus was just going through the items on the shelves, similar to how he’d go through racks of clothing, pulling out items here and there that could be a possibility.
By the time the demigod was done, he had no idea where to start with his scattered weapons. Brett only knew about the basic ones: swords, bow and arrow, and knives. He looked down at the mess he made, and frustratedly sat down on the cold floor with them. It felt good on his hot skin, and it began to calm his mind from his immediate frustration. Well, there was nothing better to do, so he began tinkering with the items.
