Chapter Text
They had been given just five minutes to get into more outdoor-appropriate clothing, much to the chagrin of some of her classmates who had left everything but their schoolbags in their locker or dorm room, prompting a mad dash across campus and into the halls. Selena however, had developed the habit early-on of always keeping a sweater or cardigan on her at all times, regardless of the weather. There was no telling when Jupiter decided to have a temperament- or when you were made to go outside in the cold autumn evening, to run laps.
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been outside before for fitness- she’d spent parts of her summers as a part-time Probatio along with Ethan for two years, and even before then her entire family had the tendency to both rise with Apollo and rise before him, and she had gotten used to joining her Uncles Jason and Percy on their morning run long before she’d been given armour.
The difference was that here, it was actually cold, prompting her to run faster to stop the chill from extending past her elbows.
The neatly trimmed, surprisingly real grass was lit only by the stadium lights that dotted around the wire fence, making the middle of the field almost pitch-black; the only thing that broke through the darkness there was the leadership team standing around on their phones, and Mr. Watrbury with a flashlight.
By the time the whistle was blown, Selena had made her way around at least 5 times, and was huffing a little as she jogged into the middle. Mr. Watrbury shined the flashlight down, and Alistor stepped up, shoving his phone into his jacket.
“Everyone, start forming lines over where Emily and Kieran are standing,” he pointed over to two silhouettes she could barely make out in the darkness. “They’ll show you how to form a factory block, and we’ll start going over fundamentals,”
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The ringing of Alistor’s phone signalled that it was now the end of rehearsal, and Selena startled, instinctively jumping into a battle stance before remembering where she was. Not that the people around her were much better.
They had been running what Kyrie, the Assistant Drum Major, called ‘Snake Drill’; a winding, boxy zig-zag path from the 30 yard line on Side 2 (or was that Side 1?) to the 40 yard line on Side 1 (Side 2?), and she and the rest of the group had been so focused on not falling over doing the backwards portion of it that the sound of the alarm cut through their concentration like a sword, prompting several people mid-march to wobble and fall over.
The whistle was blown again, this time in two short tweets, and she hurried over to stand in the shabbily-formed block, spacing and positions notwithstanding.
TWEE-EET! “Band ten hut!”
“Set!” was the response (with some delayed), and out of the corner of her eye she saw Mr. Watrbury nod approvingly.
“A reminder that Guard members have rehearsal tomorrow morning at 6am! All guard rehearsals will take place in Auxiliary Gym A, and doors will be closing on the dot! All members are expected to show up in accordance to the rehearsal clothing guidelines outlined in the manual,”