<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/74/Vincent1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Vincent Guerrero (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=207204.msg10163218#msg10163218)<br/><strong>Cabin:</strong>Hephaestus<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Forge<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>September 24, 6:45<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Abbey<br/><strong>Notes:</strong><hr/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Music playing</div><div class="spoiler_body">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xSNYaZXQud8</div></div><br/>Vincent had grown up in a Mexican household. Loud music and work tended to run side by side, it reminded him days when his aunts took care of him while mom was at work. They would dance with their brooms or just in general, singing and having a good time. Vincent picked up some of those habits unknowingly, moving to the music  as he worked. His old man seemed to have a thing for Latinas, more than half of his siblings were one form of Hispanic or another.<br/><br/>He was lost in his own little world, his hips swaying to the music as he worked. Most of the songs he knew by heart, singing along to them. Off course he was no child of Apollo but that didn't matter to him. He was unaware he was being watched the entire time. Only until a break came in between songs, he heard the cat calls. What time was it? Had he worked late into the morning? He checked the time and saw it was a quarter to seven.<br/><br/>Spinning to face his audience, Vincent simply bowed and turned back to his work. The next song came on and he went right back to what he was doing, engrossed in his little world. He might have exaggerated a little sway into his step, a pretty graceful one considering one leg was a prosthetic, now that he had an audience. Vincent didn't care, he would make his swords, build his cabins and listen to James Brown or Tigres del Norte, all day, every day!