nothing left to say (open)

Branwen was approached by an uncharacteristically serious looking Flynn when her Cohort took a break for lunch. The daughter of Venus was always the last one out of the training arena and the first one in. It made it easier for her cohort members to approach her for help or just idle chatter and as Centurion, Branwen felt it her responsibility to be available to her Cohort at all hours of the day. Today, no one was willing to linger in the training arena after a particularly grueling training session. Never let it be said that Bran ever went easy on her soldiers. Even she herself was slightly winded and eager to spend a quick minute or two in the baths before training resumed. The whole of Camp Jupiter had picked up its pace in training in the last week since the threat of the other pantheons loomed over all their heads. Branwen in particular was pushing her Cohort to their limits, as was expected of the First Cohort. Still, they were only demigods and deserved a break every once in a while.

The Centurion was taking time to clean up the training equipment when Flynn walked into the arena. Flynn and Branwen were friends to a certain extent. The boy was older than her and always busy with his Praetor duties but that never fazed Flynn. He always made time for his old Cohort and was personally interested in the training regime Branwen had implemented upon being promoted to Centurion. So when she straightened up to give him a welcoming smile, she was slightly startled to see the dead serious look on Flynn’s face. “Branwen,” He said; his voice rough like gravel. “There’s been a breach in the defenses. Kyle’s been hurt and has been taken to the infirmary. We think there’s an intruder in camp. Gather the first Cohort to patrol the borders of the camp and choose a team of three demigods to guard the entrance to camp.” Here he hesitated and got a distant look in his eyes and swallowed audibly. “I’ll gather several demigods to patrol New Rome.”

“But what about Kyle?” Branwen blurted out and instantly regretted it. She knew the relationship between the two brothers was strained at best. She also knew how it pained Flynn to be so separated from his little brother and that he was too stubborn in his beliefs to apologize. Predictably, Flynn flinched at his little brother’s name and clenched his jaw.
“You go to him.” He stated simply. Like it was ever that simple when it came to Kyle and Flynn damn well knew it. Branwen instantly scowled at the older West brother before smoothing out her expression. “He’s in the infirmary with Erin. Make sure he’s okay and find out what he can remember then report back to me.” His voice was steely and Branwen knew it was in her best interest not to argue with Flynn when he was in such a mood, but Bran was never one to back down. She wasn’t the First Cohort Centurion for nothing.

“Shouldn’t you be the one to check in on him? I can handle the troops. I mean he is you brot-“ She appealed but was abruptly cut off. “No!” Flynn snapped with real anger in his voice. He took several breaths to calm himself before he turned back to the cowed looking Branwen. “No. You go. He’d rather see you than me anyways. I would only make things worse.” I always do. She heard the unsaid words and felt her heart ache. The fissure between Flynn and Kyle was deeper than she had originally thought it had been.

Either way, it was not a can of worms she wanted to open right at that moment. Branwen made a mental note to corner Flynn in the distant future before nodding in acceptance. She gracefully strode out of the arena without another word. It took mere seconds to summon the First Cohort demigods once again and deal out her orders. Within minutes the Cohort had split into several different groups and began their search for the intruder. Branwen watched them go for a moment before turning her back and heading towards the infirmary. On her way she ran into the chatty little demigod named Sorin. She could remember several different cases where she had chased off bullies for the boy and trusted him enough to obey her orders when she asked.

The pair of them made their way quickly towards the infirmary. More accurately, Branwen strode like the Devil was on her heels while Sorin stumbled and tried to keep up. Bursting into the infirmary was a little more dramatic than she had anticipated mostly due to the awkward silence that she had walked in on than anything. Sorin shut the door quietly behind them as Branwen assessed the scene she had walked in on. Her eyes immediately went to Kyle lying on the bed bloody and bruised. Her breath caught in her throat and she took a step forward before quickly stopping herself. She schooled her features into polite indifference and determination. “Praetor Kyle,” She said. “Praetor Flynn sends me in his stead. He wishes to know if you have any more information on the intruder.” As much as she wanted to tell Kyle that his brother was concerned for him, but too pig headed and emotionally constipated to say so himself, Branwen knew that it would do no good. Still, she made a personal pledge to try and repair the relationship between the West brothers.

Behind the fierce Centurion Branwen, Sorin cowered at the tense atmosphere in the room. Bran did nothing to soothe it with her strict words but it certainly alleviated the attention from the frustrated-looking Kyle on the bed. His eyes predictably wandered to Jaymes at Kyle’s bedside and gave the other demigod a hesitant smile in greeting.


Words;; 1000
Tagged;; Kyle West, Erin Davis, Dylan Jameson, Jaymes Austin
Outfits;; Sorin, Branwen
Notes;; None

Branwen physically deflated as the smile left Kyle’s face. Her shoulders slumped down and she curled in on herself as much as possible. Something along the lines of ‘don’t shoot the messenger’ crosses her mind but she stayed quiet. She had half a mind to turn right around and punch Flynn right across the face for making Kyle act like this. It was only the fact that it would solve nothing that stayed her hand.

For a moment, Branwen opened and closed her mouth silently, trying to come up with a response to Kyle’s words. She knew he shouldn’t be so harsh on his brother and she felt the urge to protect Flynn but the look on Kyle’s face made her hesitate. Kyle was in no frame of mind to listen to reason right now. Instead, the centurion just swallowed thickly and turned her eyes resolutely to the wall. She knew that Kyle was furious at Flynn not her, but it didn’t stop her from flinching at his harsh tone. A tone she knew all too well for all the times Kyle used it when talking about Flynn. So much so that Branwen had dubbed it the ‘Flynn voice’ in her head.

She felt more than saw Sorin shift uncomfortably behind her. He must have been biting his tongue to keep quiet at this point. All of them knew not to argue with Kyle when it came to Flynn. But for usual talkative Sorin it must be something akin to torture to keep his mouth shut. The two of them jumped minutely at the loud sound of Erin’s voice through the silence, Bran more so than Sorin. She stifled the urge to lunge forward and wipe away the blood running down Kyle’s chin and make false promises about their safety. “Kyle-“ Branwen gasped out before she could stop herself. Gods, Branwen could not remember the last time she had ever felt as useless in a situation as she did right in that moment. She could recall acutely the feeling of missing her older brothers. Her first few years at camp were pure torture because of how homesick she was and how deeply she missed her older brothers. She could recall watching Flynn with little Kyle and the green envy she felt for the relationship the two of them had. It made her ache all the more but it also made her have hope for something more. Flynn had tried to step in the position of Branwen’s new older brother but she stamped out that belief very quickly. She already had more than enough brothers she could handle. That didn’t stop Flynn in recent years making jokes about becoming her ‘brother-in-law’.

The sound of Kyle’s voice brought Branwen out of her thoughts and back to the matter at hand. By now, Branwen and Sorin were still standing uneasily by the door and watching the scene in front of them like spectators than anything. Bran’s eyes briefly meet Dylan’s before they quickly looked away again. She stuffed her hands into the pocket of her jeans and became very self-conscious of the fact that she was still wearing her training clothes she had been wearing in the arena. Glancing downward, she saw her boots were still covered in sand and mud from the arena and scuffed her boots against the infirmary floor in some vein hope of getting some of the dirt off them. Sorin and Branwen quickly moved out of Dylan’s way as he strode towards the door; Branwen still resolutely avoiding his gaze. Instead her eyes were fixed on Kyle’s shaking form on the other side of the room.

Before she realized what she was doing, Branwen crossed to the other side of the room and picked up the wet cloth Jaymes had abandoned while following Erin’s orders. She sat down gingerly on Kyle’s other side from the other two demigods and hesitantly began to dab gently at the blood still trickling from Kyle’s split lip. For a few moments she tried to search for some words to say to him, anything of comfort but eventually said nothing. There was nothing she could possibly think of saying in front of an audience.

Thankfully, this was the moment Sorin stepped up to his usually chatty self. “Well now that we have that figured out, we should have this intruder caught in no time! Flynn has the whole camp in an uproar to catch this guy. And with Bran’s First Cohort out there looking, this infidel should be caught before he causes any damage. Speaking of which, why would he come to camp in the first place? Do you think he’s one of the Greeks on a scouting mission? If so, he’s kind of terrible on the whole stealth front. I mean really, who just attacks the guard and doesn’t kill them?” Sorin stopped abruptly at the sudden movement from Branwen. The girl at straightened her back and set a fierce glare in his direction. Sorin quickly back peddled. “No-not that I’m complaining! Thank the Gods for his incompetence or Kyle would be dead right now.” Her glare doubled in strength and Branwen seemed to be restraining herself from throttling Sorin. He retreated to a spot of safety which happened to be at Jaymes’ side. He totally wasn’t using Jaymes as a human shield. No, he just wanted to be close to the other man. Wait. That wasn’t what he was going for either…


Words;; 911
Tagged;; Kyle West, Jaymes Austin, Erin Davis, Dylan Jameson
Outfits;; Branwen, Sorin
Notes;; Poor Bran is so tense and confused on what to do. And Sorin isn't helping matters whatso ever xD

Branwen stared resolutely at Kyle’s chin as she whipped away the blood with minimal success. She was acutely away of how close she was to him and her hand was separated from his skin by own a thin cloth. She swallowed thickly as she concentrated on pulling the cloth away from Kyle and folding it over once before returning to the task at hand. Her stomach clenched uncomfortably at the amount of blood on Kyle’s face and could only imagine how much pain the boy was in. As much faith as she had in Erin and his healing abilities, Branwen had to restrain herself from snapping at the boy to hurry and take away Kyle’s pain. The hand that was clutching the cloth was shaking noticeably and Branwen quickly lowered her hands before anyone noticed. If there wasn’t an audience at her back she would have wrapped her arms around Kyle and held him tight until he stopped shaking. But she could do that right now.

Still, the smile that quirked at Kyle’s lips made her feel infinitely better and she returned it tenfold. With renewed purpose, Branwen returned to her task and continued to gently wipe at the crusted trails of blood on Kyle’s skin.

On the other side of the room, Sorin sent a grateful look Jaymes’ way. He leaned into the other demigod’s hand as it ran through his hair and the tension from his shoulders completely melted away. Jaymes had that effect on him. His eyes closed as bumped his forehead against the side of Jaymes’ jaw like a cat seeking attention and happily sank into his shoulder. He breathed in the smell of Jaymes as he wrapped one arm around his back and his other hand curled into one of his belt loops, tugging gently to drag Jaymes impossibly closer to him. The two of them were completely oblivious or completely ignoring the other people in the room.

Branwen took the momentary distraction of Galen walking into the room to brush the back of her hand against the soft skin of Kyle’s cheek. It was immensely reassuring to her, like now that she had touched him she was assured that he wouldn’t suddenly disappear. She had come so close to losing Kyle it was enough to want her wrap him up in her hold and never let go. Branwen had a sudden moment of clarity as she understood how Flynn must be feeling at that moment. The need to kill, rip apart, maim the person that had almost taken Kyle from this world was nearly over powering.

Instead, Bran tore her eyes away from Kyle to look at Galen and let her hand fall limply back to the bed. She nodded in greeting to her legionnaire and scooted over to make room for him. "Not what. Who. An intruder." Branwen said fiercely.

Then turning her attention to Lucas at her quarterback comment, she could help but snort. She quickly covered her mouth with her unoccupied hand to muffle her laughter. The image of Kyle in a American football uniform was far too amusing not to giggle at. In all honesty, Kyle always had the ability to look attractive in any uniform it would not surprise her if he could pull it off some way or another. “Thank you, Lucas.” Branwen said steadily, having removed her hand from her mouth once she got her laughter under control. “We will inform you if you are needed.”

Flynn was walking around New Rome like a crackling storm cloud was hanging over his head. Quite literally. Black, low hanging clouds had gather overhead and were rumbling like a hungry lion. His reign of terror was abruptly ended when he was approached by Dylan. He nodded his head jerkily, like he was a badly rusted doll and resisted the urge to brush off the other demigod and continue on his search (read: manhunt) for the intruder. But then his stomach plummeted. Oh Gods, what if Dylan had come to tell him Kyle was dead? How would he ever cope without Kyle? As much as it pained him to admit it, his brother was his other half. There was no way in Pluto was he going to be able to rule camp without him. Heck, he wouldn’t be able to live without his little brother, much less rule camp without him. Who would he badger about training schedules? Who would he banter back and forth with about traditions? Who would he shove off all his paper work onto?

Before his thoughts could turn any more panicked, Dylan spoke. “Kyle.” Flynn said, the distress clear in his voice and the thunder crackled warningly overhead. “Kyle. Is he okay? He’s not-“ He chocked momentarily. “He’s not dead, is he?”


Words;; 798
Tagged;; Kyle West, Dylan Jameson, @galen, Jaymes Austin
Outfit;;
Notes;; NO FLYNN BABY. DON'T CRY. KYLE IS FINE. Also, Dylan could have been a little more clear on Kyle's condition so Flynn didn't have to panic.