Wildfires, Heroes of Olympus ₂

007, mama four freaks behind you

CHAPTER SEVEN
FINLEY    BRIGGS

₊࿐࿔✸⋆｡° ⚘༉ . ⊹

Finn actually enjoyed war games, if that shocked you or not. It was an excuse to go crazy, and she didn't have to be serious, because the Fifth Cohort never seriously accomplished anything. They even let her use her gun, with the only restriction being she couldn't make any fatal hits. So, yeah. War games could be entertaining.

Although, Finn didn't always think that.

There was one time when—

I don't like war games, Jace. They're no fun.

Most things here aren't. But, hey—at least we have each other.

Yeah! Each other.

Finn pressed the heels of her hands against her temples as hard as she could. She couldn't drink to forget right now, but maybe if she shook her head enough, the effect would be the same.

It never was, of course.

Finn ignored the thoughts that were deeper than she wanted to go, the memories. She just told herself that war games were awesome and she always thought they were awesome and there was never a time where she thought they were anything less than awesome so she never needed to be comforted on the fact she thought they were less than awesome.

"Are you good?" Percy suddenly asked.

Finn stumbled a little bit in shock of being addressed—or maybe intoxication. Her hands returned back to her sides as she stared suspiciously at Percy.

"Or do you just always... hit yourself in the head?" he clarified, at Finn's seeming confusion.

Finn couldn't help but laugh. The more settled Percy seemed to get here, the more of his natural humor seemed to poke through. And Finn loved humor. She immediately latched onto anyone who could even slightly match her energy—She hoped Percy was prepared for that.

"Oh, yeah, don't mind me, dude," Finn elbowed him playfully. "Natural routine for me."

"Pre-war games head bash?" Percy's eyes lit up in amusement.

Finn grinned at Hazel and Frank. "See, he gets it." Then to Percy, "You should try it some time. Or, I could bash it in for you."

"Funny," he snorted.

"Yeah, hilarious," Hazel interjected, though her voice was a lot more sarcastic. "Come on guys, keep walking."

Once they got out of camp, the Fifth Cohort formed two lines behind their centurions, Dakota and Gwen. They marched north, skirting the edge of the city, and headed to the Field of Mars—the largest, flattest part of the valley. The grass was cropped short by all the unicorns, bulls, and homeless fauns that grazed here. The earth was pitted with explosion craters and scarred with trenches from past games. At the north end of the field stood their target. The engineers had built a stone fortress with an iron portcullis, guard towers, scorpion ballistae, water cannons, and no doubt many other nasty surprises for the defenders to use.