Discography | PJO/HOO

Death By (A Thousand) Cuts | W. Solace

Briar Ranes is not the most self-preserving demigod around. She's reckless, slightly violent, and in and out of the med bay so often she has her own personal doctor. 
At least she's not dead.

Will is seventeen (almost eighteen) and Briar, Annabeth, and Percy are all eighteen. This is Post-HOO.

***

"BACK AGAIN, Briar?" Chiron asked the teenage demigod as she walked into the room. 

"Yep," Briar Ranes nodded, her (very) long hair tied up in a messy bun, which was falling apart. "Not too bad, though."

It was pretty bad.

Her white athletic skirt was dyed red from the blood pouring from her back and her pale pink tank top was sliced open. She had a brutal scar spanning from her right shoulder to her left hip, but the girl seemed unfazed. 

Briar was the daughter of Eris, the Greek goddess of discord and strife, and her personality definitely reflected her mother's domain. Briar wasn't an unbearable child of war, but she was pretty hardcore when it came to fighting. She was in and out of Camp Half-Blood's med bay so often that Chiron decided it was best to assign her a doctor. 

Even Percy Jackson wasn't in the med bay this much, which was shocking, actually. But it wasn't that Briar couldn't handle herself in a fight, it was that she worked herself too hard. 

"What happened this time?" Chiron asked.

"Training," the girl answered. "I sparred with a few people - a couple of Ares and an Athena kid - then did some work with the dummies."

"Then what's the injury from?"

"Me," she grinned ironically. "I've been working on a slashing technique so I can protect myself from the back. It's actually pretty interesting -"

"Briar," Chiron interrupted, "just... report to your room. And don't do anything stupid on the way there."

Briar mock-soluted him, her dark green eyes shimmering. "No promises."

She set off down the hallway.

Post-Titan War, Briar had been assigned her own personal doctor's room. After a few too many trips to the med bay, it had been decided that having a room dedicated to Briar's health would be a good idea. It contained all of her medical records, her personal belongings, and even doodles on the walls about how bored she was.

Because, yes, there have been several times that Briar was on bed rest in that room.

"What the Hades were you thinking, Briar?" Will Solace screeched, bursting into the room.

"Hello to you, too," Briar grinned, turning over on the medical bench. "I was improving."

She winced when she rolled onto the gash along her side.

Will pulled on a pair of gloves before quickly helping her up. "Don't lay on your injury, dumbass."

"Hey, no calling patients dumbasses!" Briar protested.

"I speak the truth," Will muttered, making Briar gasp in mock offense. "Take your shirt off."

"Wow, William Solace, I didn't take you to be so straightforward, but sure -"

"I don't - not in that - just do it, Ranes," Will huffed, cheeks blazing. "You're going to be the death of me. And yourself."

"I know," Briar grinned, pulling her Camp shirt off in one motion and wincing, "I'm reckless and stupid and suicidal and blah, blah, blah. I've heard it all, Solace."