Just Another Random Thread (Calix)

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Just Another Random Thread (Calix)

Post by Guest on Mon Dec 24, 2012 12:14 am

Griffin awoke drenched in cold sweat. There had been no word from Janelle in several weeks, and Griffin was sure that something horrible had happened to her. She wasn't dead; no, Griffin would have known that. Not due to any strange powers of his, that was just something that he knew he would have felt. Which means that either she had been kidnapped, which was not very likely, or she had left and deserted him. Griffin's heart sank even thinking about that possibility, but he knew that it had to be the case. And that saddened him deeply, far more than anything that had happened at Camp thus far. He was plagued by constant nightmares in his sleep since she had left, each one depicting a more horrifying scenario than the last. Janelle in Spain, being chased by monsters that she only barely managed to avoid. Janelle in South America, being hunted in the jungle by strange beings of unholy origin... and so on and so forth.

He had thrown himself into a rigorous training regime that he'd hoped would take his mind off of the pressing issue pertaining to the whereabouts of his cousin, but that was a fleeting distraction, and the core issue remained that Janelle was gone. His cousin had left him. Griffin wiped some condensed moisture from his eye, and sniffled briefly, before taking a deep breath, and telling himself that he would not break down. He couldn't break down. Not while he was a member of the Roman Legion, for that was what he had become. While his training hadn't distracted him from Janelle's disappearance, it certainly had helped develop him physically, and he had become a more decent soldier than he had been before attending Camp.

Of course, his training was only partially physical. The vast majority of his free time was spent attempting to master the strange gift that his mother, Juturna Pax, had bestowed upon him. Griffin had spent countless hours sitting in front of fountains and aqueducts, simply staring at the water. People passing by would often shoot him looks of derision, but little did they know that that was actually his training. Sitting, listening to the movement of the water, brought him such peace. But that too was fleeting, and after a while, he began to attempt to move the water, until, a little bit at a time, he was able to coax it to move at his command. It was at that point that he would create tiny little waves in the water, and cackle maniacally as the water began to obey his will. Passersby at that point would shoot him a look that suggested he look into psychological counseling, but Griffin did not care, because he was in control of the water, and gosh darn it, he could control it without almost killing himself.

Of course, the novelty eventually faded, and Griffin eventually was spending an equal amount of time training his body as he was his mind. As he awoke from his latest nightmare, he overcame the stress of the terrible dream, took a few deep breaths, and felt a sense of resolve flow through him. It was not particularly strong, but it was incredibly persistent, rather like the water he strove to control. And so Griffin stood from his bunk, stretched, and unintentionally knocked over a book that had been carelessly strewn at the end of his bed. Immediately, irritated grunts rang throughout the cabin as many of Griffin's fellow bunkmates awoke, and, after they realized that it had just been a mistake on Griffin's part, a few of them snarled harsh oaths, and went back to bed. Griffin winced apologetically, and proceeded to get dressed. He strapped on his daggers, and headed out of the barrack, trying not to accidentally trample anyone in his wake. As he exited the cabin, he looked up at the night sky, and gauged the time to be about four in the morning, based on the position of the moon.He yawned and stretched again, and then proceeded at a gentle pace towards the arena, where the practice dummies were kept.

As he arrived, he shot a hasty glance around to make sure that no one was there, not that it would have mattered. It was just a habit left over from Wilhelm's forced time as ruler of New Rome 2.0. Back when guards at night would report and haul in people breaking the curfew, and they would be made examples of. Griffin shuddered, glad that said times were over. He ducked into the arena, and hauled out a couple of practice dummies. Then, he took a few paces back, and unsheathed his two daggers. One of them he kept in a conventional waist sheath, the other he had taken to strapping on the inner forearm of his left arm. Griffin stared at the dummies, daggers now in hand, and, without warning, drew back his right arm, and snapped his wrist foreword, sending the dagger flying smoothly out of his hand. It landed with a thud blade-first in the dummy's abdomen, slightly below where the heart would have been in a real humanoid creature. Griffin sighed, knowing that his aim was still a little bit off, despite his copious amounts of practice. No matter... He told himself. He knew that his aim would get better eventually, if only he applied himself enough. So he stared at the dummy, and drew back his left arm, repeating the same gesture. The second knife flew through the air... and landed almost three inches below the dummy's throat. Griffin cursed briefly, but quickly stopped himself, stomped over to the dummies, and plucked out his daggers.

He knew that they were not really throwing knives, but he had hoped that they would have been slightly more... accurate. Nonetheless, he kept on practicing with the knives, until he had worked up a sweat, and his aim slowly started to improve. He hit his intended target more and more often, and by the end of it, the repetition had started to pay off. Griffin no longer felt emotion as he flung the knives, no longer let fear or anger or sadness cloud his judgement. He simply looked at the target, gauged the distance, and let fly. And that helped his accuracy tremendously. Eventually, he moved on to practicing hand-on-hand combat, performing take-downs on the dummies with his daggers, and going through the finer points of stealth assassinations from behind and such. After a while, he took a short break, panting and sweaty. He stripped off his shirt to relieve himself of the excess heat, and kept right on going, running through various frontal assaults that targeted various essential organs. He was about to execute one that would have skewered the dummy through both the heart and pierced the stomach as well, when a sudden movement caught the corner of his eye, and he whirled around, daggers at the ready. "Hello?" He gasped between breaths. "Is anyone there?"

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Re: Just Another Random Thread (Calix)

Post by Guest on Wed Dec 26, 2012 7:24 pm

Calix blinked hard at the report sitting in front of him. He rubbed his eyes and strained a little more, but the letters continued to move about the page. Dyslexia and late night paper sorting definitely didn't go well together. After two more minutes or so of continuing struggle with the paper, Calix leaned back in his chair and closed the folder with a sigh. He rubbed at the side of his head and turned the desk lamp away from his work area so that long shadows appeared on the Principia walls. Except for that one desk lamp, the large common room of the Principia was deathly dark and quiet. Elijah had gone to bed long before, but Calix had insisted staying up a little bit longer to catch up on his beloved paperwork. Calix enjoyed the fact that he had something close to a life outside of the Principia with Lúthien and all, but it took quite a lot of time away from work. Of course, Calix being Calix he was always ahead in paperwork, never behind, but he wasn't as ahead as he would have liked.

The Praetor stretched and stood from his chair, taking in the silence around him. He had half a mind to follow Elijah and head off to sleep when, as he began to walk around the table, a metal object near bruised him. With a grunt, Calix looked down. His second gladius, Victrix had bumped him. Calix placed his hand on the beautifully crafted sheath and made a move to shift the weapon away, but once his hand came in contact with it, Calix found himself lifting the gladius and fastening it to his side. The Praetor knew it was more than pass the curfew set for all Legionnaires, and leaving his quarters now would be in violation of his OWN rule, but he found himself not really caring. Calix stopped before he could move further and rethought that thought. He.... didn't... care. Calix made a curious face at the air in front of him. He found 'not caring' to be the case much more frequently. Calix shrugged and walked out of Principia, making sure to keep his face void of anything but purpose. Besides, no one had the nerve to question the actions of the Legion's Praetor.

Calix's theory proved correct when no one gave him more than two looks in his walk toward the Arena. The guards pacing the streets of Camp Jupiter looked taken aback at first by the golden presence of the Praetor but didn't stop to ask him questions. They just nodded and carried on with their duties. These guards didn't have the same function as they did back in the Augur, Wilhelm's time. They didn't take rule-breakers and report them to the Praetors with the intention of punishment. They just patrolled. As a part of their training. What Roman was truly Roman who didn't know how to patrol? Honestly, now that Calix thought about it, if the patrollers had seen anyone ELSE wandering about the Camp at night they wouldn't do much to stop them. Ever since Wilhelm had fallen out of power, the Legionnaires did whatever they could to make up for their lost privileges. Calix didn't blame them. He would do the same.

Calix was heading over to the Arena because he hadn't lifted his gladius in the longest time. A bit ironic for a son of Victorious War. But being Praetor didn't leave much time for training. A part of Calix snorted at that excuse for being just that. He didn't make excuses. Calix shook his head absently. Since when did he make excuses? Calix put a hand on Victrix's pommel. Already the blade felt a bit heavy. This brought a nervous lump to his throat. His great (times five) grandmother told him that Victrix would only work if his heart was pure. Did that count with little white lies too? Calix pulled the gladius from its sheath. It fit perfectly in his palm. He made an experimental swing and found that he didn't fall to its weight. The heaviness must have been nothing more than a dream. He kept Victrix in his hand and kept walking, slowly becoming accustomed to feeling the blade in his hand once more. Even after a long time away from training, it didn't take much for him to begin swinging with ease, turning Victrix over in his hands until he reached the doors.

Just swinging the blade and actually using it were two completely different ends of the spectrum, and Calix planned the sharpen both ends before the sun rose again. He didn't expect this impromptu training session, however, to be in the presence of someone else. He opened the doors to the Arena in sight of a few more guards who also didn't question his presence and strolled in, still twirling Victrix. In front of him, in the middle of the Arena, stood another legionnaire. He wielded two daggers and mercilessly attacked a practice dummy with much skill. Calix raised an eyebrow and dropped his gladius to his side, watching for a second. He looked completely engrossed in his training, and Calix didn't want to disturb that. He got a chance to move when the other boy stopped in his practice to breathe and take off his shirt. Calix hefted Victrix and skirted around the training dummies the other boy had set up. Calix picked out a few dummies of his own and planned to take them to another corner so they wouldn't get in the way of each other. Calix heard the start of battle once again and took that chance to steal away to his corner. That is, until the second legionnaire called out.

Calix, not one to hide, stepped out from behind the dummy he was hauling. Calix had to blink twice before he spoke. "Griffin?"

((After losing my first post, I think this is pretty ok! XD))

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Re: Just Another Random Thread (Calix)

Post by Guest on Wed Dec 26, 2012 8:31 pm

Griffin lowered his daggers immediately when he realized that Calix Kiril, Praetor of the Imperial Legion and a Legacy of Bellona Victrix, was standing before him. The two of them had quite the history, reaching far back to the founding of New Rome 2.0 after the destruction of the old camp, when Janelle had been... cavorting with him in the woods. Of course, Griffin's opinion of Calix had improved since then, and the other guy had proven to him over time that he was not as bad as he'd initially seemed. Still, the last time Griffin had really seen Calix was when the latter had thought that Griffin was attempting to steal a dagger from the armory. That had not gone well... Griffin had at that point not been nearly as proficient with his powers, and had caused a water main to rupture directly under the then brand-new Armory. He had been knocked out for a few minutes by the force of a piece of marble shrapnel that had hit him on the head. That had been rather painful, and Griffin shuddered at the memory. Since then, of course, much had changed. Calix had gone on to become the Praetor of the Legion, and Wilhelm had been toppled from his throne. And now, Calix was here. In the Arena. At five in the morning. Had he not slept? What would have brought him, of all people, to the Arena at this time of day?

Griffin's brow furrowed in worry for a moment, wondering if perhaps he was doing rounds to make sure no one was breaking curfew. It wasn't as bad as it had been under Wilhelm's rule, but it was still frowned upon to be caught out of the Barracks at night. Legionnaires needed to get their sleep, after all. Then, Griffin noticed the dummy that Calix seemed to be hauling over to the opposite corner of the Arena, and he blinked for a minute. Is he training now? Griffin wondered. Surely not... being outside of his room would have technically been breaking his own rule, although as Praetor it didn't particularly matter. Of course, no good ruler would set rules and break them himself... Griffin opened his mouth, almost pointing out that fact, but then he decided against it; Calix no doubt would not appreciate being told by an inferior that he was breaking his own rules. That was a slap in the face that no doubt would not go ignored, and the last thing that Griffin wanted at this point was to have the Praetor mad at him. So instead of saying anything, he just shut his mouth, and simply nodded at Calix.

"Hello." He said. "I was just... training..." He gestured to the dummies that he had been slashing up, as if to prove it to Calix that he had indeed been training, but he knew that Calix must have seen him train as he'd entered the Armory. He looked down, averting his gaze from the piercing eyes that were directed towards him, and then suddenly realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt. That made things... awkward. But that couldn't be helped, and if Griffin scrambled for his discarded shirt, that would just have made things more awkward. So he forced himself to calm down, took a couple deep breaths, and then looked back up at Calix with a feigned sense of casualness. "So..." He began. "What brings you to the Arena at this time of night?" Of course, Griffin knew that Calix was probably there to train, what with his weapons and the dummies so obviously present, but still, Griffin felt as though it was a viable question, and a good conversation starter.

He then noticed that Calix looked surprised to see him. No, that wasn't it... The look on Calix's face suggested more so that he had been surprised to find Griffin training in the Arena, and there was a slight hint that perhaps Calix had been impressed with what he'd seen. That in and of itself was almost a backhanded compliment. On the one hand, Calix had apparently been impressed by Griffin's improved skill. On the other, he had been surprised that Griffin was even capable of such things... or so Griffin assumed. He had never been good at reading people, and it was entirely possible that he was seeing things that weren't there. He decided to test his theory, and before Calix had an opportunity to respond to his earlier query, Griffin plowed ahead, moving the conversation to a completely different area of discussion.

"I was just working myself on my knife-throwing technique." He said airily, as if it were no big deal. "Oh, and also assassination techniques as well. You know, stealth kills and such. How to target vital organs... stuff like that." Griffin wondered how Calix would react to his feigned arrogance. The last time they had really seen each other, Griffin had been kind of a mess, had lost his temper and almost killed them both, and then had proceeded to practically break down in front of the other Legionnaire. How then, would Calix see Griffin now? He fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment, wondering if he was trying to hard to impress the Praetor with his skill and bravado. He grinned half-heartedly, and, for lack of anything better to do, sheathed his daggers, one in the hip sheath, and the other in the leather-strapped forearm sheath. Having fastened them both in securely, he looked up at Calix expectantly, waiting for some form of reply.

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Re: Just Another Random Thread (Calix)

Post by Guest on Thu Dec 27, 2012 10:56 pm

So Calix's eyes didn't deceive him after all. For a moment he thought that the lack of sleep had been catching up to him, and the glaring lights of the Arena had been playing a trick on him, he hadn't seen the boy in so long. And the last time he saw Griffin, the... powerful lackey, he recalled referring to him as, attacked him with a pipe. Griffin didn't come raging after him with a pipe, no that would have been too easy to defend against. Griffin turned out to be the son of Juturna and his connection to the water turned out to be triggered by intense anger which Calix foolishly caused him. The pipes under the Armory burst and sent Calix reeling backwards, but it also knocked Griffin out. After a few words were exchanged after that incident, they left each other in agreeable terms. That is, Calix didn't turn him in to Wilhelm, and no one knew that the then-Centurion was beaten by a common soldier. Calix felt Victrix grow heavier in his hands, and he knew this time he didn't imagine it.

Back then, Calix didn't care about anything other than absolute power and rising the ranks. He didn't care how he did it. The only reason Calix really let Griffin go with a slap on the wrist had been to keep his reputation in check. True enough, near the end of their meeting Calix started to feel a little bit of respect for the other boy. But more of a grudging respect. He wondered how far he had come since then. Calix now knew where he had strayed in rising within the Legion and became more peaceful, a lot more measured and patient. Of course, if Calix saw any direct violations of important rules, he'd show no mercy. He had patience but not enough to watch other Legionnaires making absolutely no use of their time. He could handle some jokes, some playing around but when business was to be done, Calix expected it done and expected it to be done quickly. The severity of his Centurion days still remained but hid under a more understanding Praetor. He took Griffin's silence as a sort of shock, and Calix stayed in his spot waiting for some sort of response. He looked ready to speak and Calix raised an eyebrow, ready to listen, but he just settled for nodding. Calix almost smiled.

Griffin made an attempt to start a conversation, and Calix imitated him by nodding. Training. Obviously. Calix actually thought Griffin was baking some cookies for the Greeks. The inner sarcasm wasn't exactly rare when people made obvious statements such as that. Griffin didn't last long under Calix's expecting eyes and looked away. Evidently, Calix had the same effect on Griffin as before. He intimidated him. Calix didn't give him a reason to think anything different, so he understood. And really, around most people, Calix tended to keep everything professional with the smallest amount of chitter-chatter as possible. But Griffin didn't have the same motive. Calix couldn't blame him. Standing there, shirtless in front of the Praetor WAY PAST curfew was a rather bad light to be put in. Even his question had a hint of hesitation in it. Calix took a breath himself. He motioned to the dummy standing to his right. "Same," he answered, trying for the same casual tone.

Griffin continued, going into detail about his training, specifically his assassination skill. Calix raised his eyebrow again. Assassination? He gauged Griffin's expression when he admitted to this. It didn't sound like a confession. No, he seemed a bit too proud of himself for it to be a confession. Calix stretched his fingers still wrapped around the hilt of Victrix. "I wasn't aware that the Legion had a place for assassins or spies." He glanced over to the dummy Griffin had mutilated and took in the damage done. From his description, it looked like Griffin did his job rather well. From his standpoint, if the dummy had been a real person, Griffin would have won their bout hands down. It looked like he had gone far with that dagger Calix caught him stealing that one night.

The results shown in the dummy obviously didn't come from one night of training, personal experience tipped him off to that. As did Griffin's form. Calix saw that he had packed on quite a bit of muscle since their last meeting. So these late night training sessions must have been a norm for him. Calix vaguely wondered how he had enough energy for his other duties around the camp. The change in physicality however seemed to be the only change. Griffin remained the same bumbling fool as he had once been. Calix, feeling the awkward silence starting to settle in the room again, lifted his sword and pulled his dummy so that it faced him. The Legacy took a wide stance and struck with his gladius. The blade sunk in the shoulder of the dummy. With and underhand flick, the blade dislodged itself and created an equally gruesome gash in its neck. Calix pulled Victrix back and looked pointedly at Griffin before turning back and going in for a jab.

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Re: Just Another Random Thread (Calix)

Post by Guest on Sat Dec 29, 2012 12:34 pm

((GAAAAAH! I had a post, and then I lost it... I'll have something up by tonight!))

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Re: Just Another Random Thread (Calix)

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