#xdexter

At least one demigod inherited a special touch for cooking. Snow had to assume it was Dexter’s fire manipulation skills that made the difference. No char, just a happy group of salivating and then nourished demigods. Dex’s camp became sort of a boom town, due to his generosity.

“Oh...” Jude gently exclaimed upon noticing Dexter entering Pali house. ... Slightly teetering with a stack of boxes in his grip. They appeared to be his personal belongings. “here, let me help you.”

Watching Dexter fall like that kind of made Ender feel bad. He really didn’t want to make his housemate so scared, he was still trying to figure out what his new tricks did that’s all. Crossing the training ground, Ender gently poked Dexter with the tip of his boot trying to get the man to wake up. It wasn’t a kick or really that hard at all. Just a little tap. “Come on, Dex. You never answered my question. I need to know how you feel about red or if I need to change my cocktail I am making just for you.”

“Thanks for helping me out... being my eyes.” Or should he be thanking Dexter’s familiar? “If we didn’t get the jump on Jules and the other two--who knows what would’ve happened? I heard there was another party crossing over at the same time from the other side.”

After having his fill of food, drink, and distracting discussion with Dexter, Snow came to realize that whole ordeal around the campfire had quite stressed and worn him down a bit. The enclosed, warm, walls of banquet hall, murmuring of so many energized voices, and the company of this friendly demigod put him at ease again gently. Like a house cat curled up by a fire after escaping a rainstorm.

Once the sun set, the bonfire at camp center would be lit by local townsfolk. Centaurs and satyrs alike beckoned nymphs to join in casual merriment. Snow often found himself drawn to the impromptu festivities as a distraction while the company was always guaranteed to be friendly. It had been at least an hour, and Snow was still sitting upon the log bench watching the mythical creatures dance exotically. Wind and string instruments sent the group swirling while hand held drums occasionally tempted them to strike their heels across the dusty ground.

“’parents are real sweet.” Snow considered out loud when he took in the vision of this stranger upon his arrival at the forge. It had been a difficult decision; picking one weapon out of so many. He did like to work with his hands though... and guns, naturally, weren’t an option. Adjusting the leather braces around his hands that would fit within the gauntlets--should he ever try them on--the tall blond just shook his head. “Taking no interest in our actual lives. Now they expect us to fight their battles?” He didn’t sound spiteful, more humored by the notion.

“Oh, hey.” Morgan greets upon finding Dexter approaching him near the dining table. The Yule Ball was one of the tiefling’s favorite celebrations. The food was plentiful, decorations warm and inviting, but the overall vibe itself encouraged introspection. He hadn’t felt the need to self improve for the new year, but still grew grateful day-by-day to have received a ward like Dexter. The demigod who’d easily surpased previous sons of Hades. Who’d gone to hell and back twice. Survived and victorious. “How’s it going? ... ‘catch up on your rest?”