Hey Look, You Don't Know Me ((Calix))

Adele found it amazing that the nine months she’d spent away from her arguably crazy morning habits, she only needed two weeks to get back into the habit. In nearly sixteen days, Adele managed to get her body to do what college in the modern day made impossible: rise and fall with the sun. Each of the prior fifteen days had felt like hell with Adele waking up exhausted, struggling through her run, and trying to crawl back to bed for the first two hours before she gave up and did her work until about ten, when sounds of what sounded like injured or severely uncomfortable people feeling their aches again. At that point, the redhead moved to a significantly quieter conference room with a ping-pong table as the main feature - a perfect spot to work spread out, until the weekly group occupied the room. Some of the faces in that group were oddly familiar - Cara, the girl from sophomore PE, Adelaide, the girl Adele had met in the midst of her broken leg experience, the blonde girl that had interrupted her conversation with Russell - and gave Adele odd looks whenever she left, but the noise made it impossible for Adele to stay and keep working.

Afternoons after lunch were just as rough as those first hours of the morning. For the sake of staying awake, Adele moved back into the room next to the “infirmary” (she refused to believe that people were actually seriously injured at this children’s camp that her sister attended!), where the sound of people walking in and out and random intervals kept her awake. Normally, Adele wrapped up work around three due to severe mental exhaustion, but on the sixteenth day, everything finally clicked. Despite her run being two complete laps of the perimeter of the camps (previous days had barely made one), the energy didn’t stop, and instead of the changing out of her running clothes and into something that hid the spiderweb of scars on her leg, Adele merely grabbed her backpack and left the cabin.

Still on her runner’s high, Adele jogged to the Roman portion of the camp, careful not to let her backpack thump too heavily onto her back - such impact was great for neither her back nor the laptop inside. Finally, Adele did not need the noise of the Big House. Instead, she needed somewhere completely quiet, with natural lighting.

One building came to mind, and Adele hoped she could be in and out before it needed to be returned to the rightful “owner.” Russell had said Romans only entered the Principia when they were in need of one of their two leaders, and it sounded like one of the two was always out and about, cutting the number of intrusions in half. Plus, it was still sometime before eight in the morning. Sure, Romans had once been known for their ability to run like clockwork, but given both the camps were run by people nearly exclusively younger than her, the chances that a group of children were awake and functional at the crack of dawn? Adele didn’t give it much serious consideration.

The lock on the door required some fumbling, but once she was inside, the girl found herself highly pleased with its design: large, open space with a window big enough to light the entire room. Wasting no time, Adele found a wall to settle against and immediate pulled out her laptop, notebooks, and headphones and arranged them in an arc that fit comfortably in between her feet. With the ease of long practice, she slid into a V-stretch placing the empty bag between her foot and the wall.

As time normally did with music, it began to fly. Each passing minute brought Adele a deeper stretch, until she was sitting with her elbows firmly planted on the floor, chin in hand and legs nearly directly to her sides. Suddenly, the lighting in the room changed mid-blink, and it took the Coloradan a few seconds to realize she ought to look beyond the distance between her and her screen. Once she did that, a pair of legs made her breath catch in her throat, and the entirety of her right leg twitched - Adele hated displaying the many surgery scars, especially when it was easy to hide them, like putting some sweats in her bag. After a moment, her breathing resumed its normal pattern and Adele allowed herself to look above the person’s knees and into the face of a surprisingly tall guy who had evidently just asked her a question.

Trying hard not to make her customary “I’m getting kicked out face,” Adele slowly removed her headphones and placed them around her neck, struggling also not to place a hand (and hoodie sleeve) over her leg, taking the time it required to do such actions to examine his face. The headphones were both a blessing and a curse: noise cancelling allowed her to study for longer with more focus, but when people tried to get her attention, nothing worked.

”Sorry?”

Romans were known as highly disciplined people. Calix was the prime example of that. It might have helped that he’d been put on a schedule from the moment he could walk and talk. And after all this time, Calix kept to it. It helped him keep order in his life. Even though the Legion was created by order for order, Calix found his life a bit more... chaotic than he was used to. Ironically, everything he had learned as a child, all the theory about leading and what made a successful legacy didn’t apply as much as he thought it would. In fact, this whole ‘leading’ thing was a lot of trial and error. Calix didn’t mind. He’d read up a lot about that too. But sometimes, even those books did little to help him, and Calix found himself wondering why his father had told him to read them in the first place. They definitely didn’t make good stories to tell to his friends. Joshua Kiril had his ways, and Calix trusted his father’s methods and that’s why he never gave up on anything he was taught. Especially the routine he went through every morning.

But lately, Calix had found this daily routine to be completely out of whack. Nothing about his life now was regulated. Nothing about his life now was orderly. Not even in that nice and comforting chaotic way. The Praetor rose at six in the morning, thirty minutes later than he would usually. He was used to that. Calix sat up slowly in his bed, hearing his back creak in the back of his mind. Calix let out a long sigh and felt a brush of fur against his leg. Calix looked down and saw Amroth, all purrs, also stretching, imitating him. Calix's lips quirked for a half second in a semi-smile. And then the headache set in. With a slow sigh, Calix lifted a hand to his temple and pressed. He was used to this. Just a little dehydration that he didn't think about alleviating because that meant leaving his room and seeing other people which ultimately led to those other people seeing him. Like this. He didn't want that to happen... not just to spare himself the embarrassment, but also so he wouldn't worry the Legion. In all honestly, Calix wasn't sure if the other Legionnaires cared about him anymore, he'd been out of action for far too long. If they attacked him in mutiny Calix would accept it with open arms. He deserved it.

But Calix gave himself the benefit of the doubt. Despite his endless weeks of bedrest and slight nibbles of fruit or bread, Calix thought himself to be 'resurfacing'. When Calix woke up thirty minutes later than usual, he was actually rising three hours earlier than he did in weeks past. And the headache from dehydration? Nothing compared to the clawing, snarling pain in his stomach because he didn't eat. Calix felt weak beyond comprehension. He stood from his bed and felt like crawling back in right after... a big improvement from where he was before. Amroth strolled up to Calix and rubbed himself on his pajama pant leg, nearly sending the Praetor toppling over. So weak. Maybe water wasn't such a bad idea right now. Besides, who on earth was up this early?

The Praetor left his room expecting to go about this task with no interruption, passing the street peacefully until he returned to the Principia and his sedentary ways. Then start the process all over again. Some people may approach him.... perhaps resulting in some problems. To solve these problems he’d give a simple one word response and go on his way. But what he saw when he exited the room to head over to the coffee shop for breakfast couldn’t be brushed off with a one word answer. No. Calix found his morning about to get very interesting

The Principia usually had a good amount of natural light so him and Elijah didn’t need desk lamps until the sun actually went down. But in the dawn of the morning, Calix nearly missed the intruder. He saw her out of the corner of his eye and had to double-take to make sure he really saw her. A girl, sitting against the far wall of the Principia with a laptop open in front of her, notebooks around her and headphones in her ear. And from the look of it, they did their job rather well because she didn’t hear his footsteps echoing through the entire place. As each step brought him closer, and she didn’t lift her head from her laptop, Calix found his heartbeat speeding up, his eyebrows coming together and his (weakened) muscles tightening. It was too early in the morning to be dealing with something like this! How did this intruder get into the Principia anyway?! Only he and Elijah had the keys! This was Camp Jupiter! This was New Rome! No one simply WALKS into New Rome and the Principia! On instinct, with his blood boiling, the Praetor tried to clench his fists. He wouldn’t overreact though. He didn't have the strength for a fight.

Calix stepped in front of the intruder, hand still closed. Up close, she didn’t look too dangerous. He didn’t see anything on her other than her supplies to do... whatever it was she was doing. He’d be able to take her at least for a few moments if it came to that. She looked completely at home on his floor... reclined, relaxed, casual... like jogging attire.. Did she just decide to break into the Principia after a workout? As a last minute thing?! This made Calix even more indignant, which worsened his headache and he cleared his throat, forgetting about the headphones for half a second. No reply. More irritation. “Excuse me,” he growled through gritted teeth. That got a reply. The girl looked up, watching Calix carefully. The Praetor tilted his head higher, putting on his high-and-mighty Praetor look, much less impressive with his pale face and sunken cheeks. He crossed his arms with narrowed eyes. ”Name?”

((Hey look, the title makes sense now >.<))

The early morning light caught the concerning pale hue of his skin surprisingly well, almost making him glow. The effect was not entirely new to Adele (as a ginger, she looked about the same in the dead of winter when her summer freckles had truly faded), but it caught her attention all the same. Unlike the color on her, this guy was not meant to be that color. He had the remnants of a summer tan, a detail that was accompanied by her usual amount of eloquent internal dialogue: Shiny. Like every other shiny thing, he held her attention for a bit longer than he should have, giving her face a brief blank look that fortunately disappeared when she looked at his face (as his face, not a shiny and glowing object) again. Contemplating why he looked the way he did and if it was trauma induced (and therefore fixable) would have to wait until later.

Oh, he was angry. That much was obvious. Slowly, Adele sat up, grimacing only slightly when a tendon in her hip popped, examining his face again. As far as Adele was concerned, her rank trumped his - she could address this scarily large teen with as much sass and disrespect as she wished with little to no repercussions, but chances were that Mr. Brunner would sit Adele down for a stern talking. And this guy probably held rank over Bonnie. The two Fryes weren’t exactly the best at communication (primarily Adele’s fault), especially when it came to what happened when the younger left Cabin One, but Adele was still fiercely protective. If she could help it, Adele would do nothing that had the potential to damage Bonnie’s camping experiences, even if this Elijah character, Bonnie’s adoptive brother, was as big of a honcho as Adele had heard.

His arms were crossed, an indication that she couldn’t keep him waiting much longer. Slowly, dragging her time for a response out, Adele exhaled, placing her hands on her hips and adjusting her seat bones slightly, making it a more comfortable version of the nearly-middle splits, a position that had never been, and never would be, painless. “Adele,” she said suddenly, extending her right hand upwards to him equally quickly, keeping her left firmly on that hip. If he thought he was going to yank her upwards and out of the building, he was in for a surprise: not even the bulkiest of the football players could lift Adele from her prefered position with one arm. Of course, there was a chance he wouldn’t shake her hand. Something told her that this one was normally more diplomatic, but her presence had pissed him off, and the fact she was trying to stay exactly where she was probably didn’t help.

Most of the reason why she didn’t want to move was because of all the work that had been accomplished - for the first time, Adele was ahead of schedule on the Delphi Farms paperwork she’d allotted for the day. If she kept this pace - meaning this one didn’t forcefully remove her - there was a strong chance Adele could get a head start on the next day’s work and keep the ball rolling: it’d mean more free time to spend with Bonnie. Hopefully the younger Frye wouldn’t object to Adele’s constant presence after years of absence too badly. Sister bonding time was years overdue. A bird flying past the window in the study (was that what it was?) caught her attention and dragged her back to the moment, staring in the face of a tall and rather angry Roman camper. Was it just her, or did this guy seem genuinely more intimidating than anyone she’d met so far on the Greek side?

“Yours?” Adele asked, returning to a previous train of thought - which number it was, she had lost track. Something about Delphi Farms seemed to reduce the frustrations brought on by her dyslexia and increase her ADHD. The former was appreciated, the latter dreaded. If this Roman got to find out her name and determine where she spent the last few minutes before the hustle and bustle of any other place in the camp made work impossible, she surely got to hear his (along with his title, if her experience with other campers was anything to judge by - the kids here, people who hadn’t yet learned the corporate ladder, had a weirdly mature understanding of where titles placed someone. It freaked Adele out, though she had become fairly competent at blocking out the second portion of their introductions).

The sunlight streaming into the Principia so early in the morning that usually brought comfort and warmth to the Praetor's day only gave him a headache now. His lips, mouth and throat felt dry, his eyes felt puffy and red. Calix didn't want to have to deal with this. He really should have stayed in bed. But he was out, and he couldn't do anything about it now. The temperature in the main room of the Principia differed from the temperature in his quarters. It was colder, and Calix hoped that the stranger wouldn't notice the goosebumps slightly forming on his arms or the way they were crossed just because Calix didn't want to shiver. He didn't want to admit it, but Calix highly doubted he'd be able to fend off any attack the stranger might dish out. Not in this state where he felt woozy and ready to to upchuck the breakfast he didn't have. Calix hoped he put on a good facade though and perhaps, if he didn't open his mouth, he could at least look acceptable.

Calix couldn't help but think that this was part of the gods' plan to punish him for neglecting his duties for so long. They wouldn't allow him to start with a simple task like assisting a new Legionnaire in acquiring a weapon or placing someone in a cohort. Not even starting to catch up on the mountain of paperwork that Elijah probably kept out of sight so as to 'assure' the rest of the Legion that Calix was still participating... just more behind the scenes than usual. No. They had to throw an intruder in his way. An intruder who would most likely judge him, see his state and laugh. Bring into question his ability to lead. Bring into question his place in the Legion, actually something he'd been thinking about himself. Did he deserve his Praetorship after leaving mentally? Was he fit for the chair again? Calix's eyes flickered to the throne for a second and saw that it looked a bit bigger than the last time he'd seen it. It'd overwhelm him. Take him over. Just as the work would. Just as this intruder would.

Adele. The intruder introduced herself as Adele with an amiable offering of her hand. If fighting the intruder was out of the question... what else could Calix do? Not much other than accept the hand. But Calix's hands remained clenched on the opposite arm. Wouldn't shaking Adele's hand mean he accepted her presence there? A consent to her intrusion? A pat on the back for her audacity? All these thoughts shot through Calix's head, amplifying his headache five times. The Praetor blinked but kept his eyes closed for a bit more than what a normal blink required. Just like him... to make something as simple as a handshake into a big deal. But it was a big deal. At least to him... the out-of-whack, rambling, no-sense-making, him. Calix's hands loosensed. He didn't have the energy to yell at someone. He didn't have the patience to throw anyone out. All Calix wanted to do was go to the Mess Hall and get a few bottles of water before the rest of the Camp woke for morning muster. It might have been his imagination, but Calix was already beginning to hear the distant yells of the Centurions rousing their cohorts. Too late.

What did he have to lose anyway? Calix reached down and shook Adele's hand once, firmly before retracting it back into his cross-armed position. Adele became silent for a little. Calix returned the favor. Even in this fuzzy state of mind, Calix wasn't one to start conversation... or carry one on. Especially not with a stranger. Then she spoke once more, asking the customary question that followed an introduction: his name. For half of half a second, Calix forgot his own name. He hadn't heard it spoken.. or spoken it himself in a while. It took maybe three seconds for his mouth to form the word and his tongue and teeth to work together to sound out the single syllable. "Calix." Usually, he'd add more. His last name (an intregal part of his existence) and/or his rank as 'Praetor of the Legion' (ditto). Not this time. Out of doubt that those two things even pertained to him anymore. His first name took a lot of thought and effort. And now he needed more time to recover.

He took his time answering her question and taking her hand, but, eventually, he did both. The handshake, to Adele's surprise and his credit, was a good one - the way Adele tried to shake hands (due to the fact she could never shake her own hand, it was actually quite hard to tell how well she shook hands). Once upon a time, or at least when he didn't look like he had been dragged to hell and back, this guy was probably authoritative and in control - most definitely the person Adele had been trying to avoid when she broke into the building. But he had been dragged to hell and back: he wasn't in shape to remove her from where she sat, physically or verbally. As glad as Adele was not to be thrown out of a place where she had actually been productive for the first time within the camps, the difference between how he looked and how she guessed he ought to look pulled at something in Adele's heart.

He name, of course, was the second thing to catch her attention. What was it with these camps and the names?! Boulder wasn't the stereotypical place to meet people with common names like Amanda and James, but in two weeks in this (relatively) tiny little campus the Farms and the camps resided on, Adele had met more people that would have to explain how to spell their names beyond the difference of "Sara" and "Sarah" than she'd met in Boulder in ten months. What was it with this place? In both places, of course, people had given her weird looks about her name, but Boulder's looks were mostly clarifying that she wasn't the singer, while almost all of the looks here gave Adele the impression that the campers had thought they'd never have to hear such a "normal" name again.

But Calix continued to stand there, half watching her and half not, probably thinking about something that Adele could guess, but didn't want to take the time to figure out. After another few moments of sitting and watching, though, one thing became apparent: Calix had a headache. The light that enabled Adele to work was something Calix seemed to turn away from, even though it was gentle enough that Adele's constantly hungover roommate would have been OK. Every once and a while, Adele heard whispers of activities that were most definitely not Mr. Brunner approved going around, but looking at Calix, Adele guessed he wasn't a drinker. At least not now - who knows what he had done before he had had the chance to stumble into her.

Briefly adjusting her ponytail, Adele reached into her backpack and withdrew the heaviest object, one she someone hadn't needed the contents of somehow, despite running a few more miles than she did at altitude. Something told her that Calix wouldn't actually drink the water inside if she just shoved the bottle at him, so she opened the lid and took a mounthful, snapping a flowguard into the wide mouth before she held it up to him. It wasn't that she expected Calix to spill, but if he did, Adele would appreciate as little water falling on her computer and notes - the information and data would be impossible before her internship was over, and Delphi Farms' records would surely take a hit if Adele managed to wipe out any of them. Sure, Calix's pride might get hurt by the presence of the flowguard, but he still ought to appreciate the control it gave him - Adele used it after her runs when the adrenaline was still going, after all. She shook too much to drink from the nalgene without it.

"Drink it. It's water," Adele commented, raising her eyebrows just enough to give the "I dare you" look. "You should go back to sleep. Looks like you had a rough night..." She continued, thinking back to what she'd ultimately decided to do with her roommate. It would be very pushy of her to just start down that path, but Adele didn't want to deal with Calix staring at her while she tried to get back to work. Oh, he'd certainly hate her for a some amount of time (it depended on how long he held grudges), but if Adele could be productive, that was the path the two of them were going to take. A deep breath, straight back and square eye contact later, Adele gave him her decision, deciding that she could deal with his reaction when it happened. No sense in trying to anticipate it. "In fact, you're going to go back to bed. Sleep at least another hour. If you get too antsy, you're gonna get up and go get some food, then start on your work for the day. If you sleep for more than two hours, I'll wake you up. Then you're gonna go get food and start on your work for the day." A small pause lapsed while Adele took a breath. "Drink the water."

Watching her watching him didn't do much (anything at all, actually) for Calix's headache. If anything, it made it worse. In the silence, Calix heard nothing but the pounding of his heart and the screaming in his ears. It had escalated from a simple ringing a long time ago. So Calix slightly turned his eyes from her and from the light, but this new angle with the light barely seeping in through the corners of his eyes and worming its way to the wayback of his brain, hurt him. Where it sat and stirred and baked and began to bore holes there. Holes that caused the pounding to intensify and the screaming to scream louder. The discomfort could be seen in the Praetor's face, and he was completely over his pride where he would try to hide it to keep up appearances. Clearly Adele didn't know who stood in front of her, and Calix didn't have the heart nor the words to inform her. All he could focus on, all he wanted to focus on was his head and the best way to keep it attached to his spinal cord. So Calix turned back so he fully faced the girl as she started to move again.

For all Calix knew, she could have been rummaging in her pack for a weapon to dispatch him. A spy. One of the Tripartite's. Who had come to finish what the ruler of the underworld had started. Something dull jumped in Calix's mind. He should probably take a defensive stance. He should probably show he wasn't completely defenseless. He should probably this. He should probably that. And yet he stood there, shoulders slumping even more. Well. If this is how it would end. He couldn't do much about it. He had no weapon other than his person. And even the newest of Legionnaires would be able to tell that the Praetor was in no condition at all to get into a physical altercation. Calix blinked and the room, for a split second, went white... edging on a yellow. Calix blinked again quickly, stories of people passing out filling his mind. Funny. Calix accepted whatever death Adele had waiting for him in that bag of hers.... but would not pass out. Calix didn't feel like observing the finer details as to why his mind decided to work in the odd way that it did. In fact, at this point, he only waited for Adele to run him through....

With a water bottle? Because that's what the girl pulled from her bag. Immediately, at the sight of it, Calix's tongue escaped his mouth to run over his dry lips. He swallowed. So this is how she planned to kill him. By taunting him. Watching him thirst to death right in front of her. Rather sadistic yet effective. The thirst had already been barely bearable... seeing the bottle raised to her lips and seeing her take a drink from it nearly killed him. Torture. He was finally experiencing it. At this point, Calix was fighting to keep himself on his feet... steady. It might have been his imagination, but Calix suddenly felt himself swaying. Like on the bow of a ship. A ship with no water surrounding it. A ship stranded in a desert.... with vultures circling. Around. And Around. Like his mind.

He must have been hallucinating, because, before he knew it, the bottle was being offered to him. Calix blinked slowly. First at the bottle then at the suddenly glowing figure offering it to him. Of course, the standard 'what if it's been poisoned' worry crossed his mind. Two things stopped him from accepting this worry as valid. One: he'd seen her drink from it. And, even if seeing her had been an invention of his thirst-driven mind, he'd drink it anyway. Two: Calix didn't care if it'd been poisoned. Desperation outweighed everything else he felt. Fear and suspicion threw him for a loop and, understandably, clouded his judgment. Still, the Praetor shakily accepted the bottle, his hand literally trembling as his fingers closed around it. Calix was half-conscious of the fact that Adele had given him a handicap: a flowguard. If times had been different he would have taken the now-viewed show of kindness as a personal affront. How dare she think he incapable and all that. But he was thankful, because he would not stop shaking. Calix had to hold the bottle with two hands, and it still wasn't enough. With a great effort, Calix lifted the bottle to his lips.... and drank. Finally drank.

The gloriously cold water streamed down his throat and with each drop, Calix found his senses beginning to return. Not fully. Not even half-way, Calix still felt the dizzying effects of his dehydration once the flowguard left his lips. But the Praetor's hands were steadier, his breath more even, his ears less inept so he actually heard what Adele said. Or, rather, what she commanded. For him to go the bed. Sleep more. The Praetor visibly cringed. That's all he'd been doing and, evidently, it wasn't enough. Calix took another small sip of the water, not finding himself quenched enough to speak just yet. But the initial indignant thoughts concerning Adele's presence in the Principia rose in him. She enter HIS home? That crossed the line. But entering his home then issuing demands?! Preposterous. Then again, in all honesty, what could Calix do about it? Stand there and drink her water? No. Calix leaned down and placed the water bottle as carefully as he could on the ground. He swallowed, the thirst returning. It would take a lot for him to be properly hydrated once more. But no one would need to know that for now. "You," he croaked and took a breath to get the rest out. "Are not allowed here."

Shaking, shaking ridiculously, he finally took the nalgene and drank. He drank for a while, but before he was ready, he put the bottle down. Before he'd taken the bottle, or even realized that she was going to offer it to him, Calix had nearly been swaying. It was a deep-seeded fear of Adele's that she would be crushed by unstable tall people - Lord knew how little confidence Adele had in her upper body strength - and her chest tightened notably as she watched him. But, thankfully, as he drank, he became more steady. His eyes were more focused (not entirely there, but there was less wandering and the vague face of not understanding was slipping), and his movements didn't seem to be as awkward. Calix took his time drinking (which was a good thing - drinking too quickly would result in water on her laptop), and Adele slowly relaxed, drawing her hands back from her keyboard, where they had been forming a shield.

Apparently, her words had registered with him (which was impressive, given how close he had been to fainting (probably) such a short time ago), and he wasn't happy. Thankfully, he continued to drink, and Adele continued relaxing, her hands drifting slowly but surely from her keyboard. He stopped drinking and Adele halted, watching him as intently as she had been working on Delphi paperwork. Calix inexplicably leaned down, and Adele felt the first bit of annoyance rise in her chest. The nalgene was barely half-empty, and that was including the damage she had done just briefly in her cabin and right before she handed the bottle to him. It was clear that he needed the rest of that water, and Adele would feel greatly relieved if he ate something with the other sixteen ounces sitting in that plastic purple container. The swaying and unfocused eyes would have a better chance at being made to go away.

Eventually, when he stood again, Calix managed to speak a few words that caused Adele's eyebrows to twitch in annoyance. You are so like Michelle, Adele thought, straightening her back even though her elbows remained on her knees (somewhere in the conversation, Adele had gone from middle splits to criss-cross applesauce). How long had it taken him to come to that realization, or if the thought had crossed his mind, why did he wait until she had extended him the curtesy of a health-saving provision? Michelle at her worst had merely been grumpy - the kind of person that crawled up in a ball and just sulked the day away, moaning for Adele to bring her various things like food and water. It was because of Michelle that Adele had learned to sit back, give a death glare of disappointment and say "no." (Granted, Adele had always been good at those things separately, but never when someone actually needed her help.) Michelle had been Adele's warm up for Calix, evidently.

"Evidently not," Adele began, her ice surprisingly chilly for her not truly threatening or threatened posture. Slowly and pointedly, she looked at the nalgene and then at Calix again, hands moving to her headphones with a display of urgency unseen by the day so far. Half and hour ago, Adele would have been regretfully happy to move out of the Roman building and begin the day's pattern of wandering about the farm's campus, looking to more productive quiet places that couldn't be spoiled by campers with similar desires or the need to talk to Adele about non-Delphi Farm things. But in the time she'd met Calix, something had changed in Adele, and the ginger had decided that she'd live up to her hair color's stubbornness and potentially temper stereotypes. "You're not done drinking. I'm not moving. Now finish that nalgene, fill it, finish it again, go back to bed, wake up in a better mood, drink more water, eat something and get a start on that mountain of paperwork you're hiding and ignoring."

With a cold smile, Adele put her headphones back over her ears, made a show of turning up the volume so she definitely couldn't hear him and focusing on what was on the screen. "Sweet dreams, Calix."

Calix regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth and even more at the look Adele gave him afterward. Ungrateful. He was ungrateful. He'd taken the water, the water that kept his face from meeting the ground, and he didn't offer so much as a thank-you. No. Instead, he demanded she leave. After helping him. If she'd killed him then, there'd be no doubt in his mind if he deserved it or not. Part of him would have preferred that over keeping eye contact with the girl. She had a cold fire in her eyes that penetrated past his words and stuck him in a fairly uncomfortable and rather painful way. A way that made him squirm. That almost made him listen to her, just to get her to stop looking at him like that. If he didn't obey... what would become of him? She did this out of the kindness of her heart... and maybe more than a pinch of pure stubbornness and desire to get her way. Well. Calix had his own hard head and would not back down from what he said either. Even though it would have been the right thing to do. Not just to get her to stop looking at him like that either. She was right. Calix was in no condition whatsoever to be making demands like he did. If she wanted to, Adele could use force and Calix would stand no chance. But he didn't admit this.

It might have been ridiculous, Calix's inner battle. To be stubborn and stand his ground even though he knew that if he did for too long, his vision would go blank, or give up easily. Either way, the outcome would be the same: with Adele's victory. Calix's pride put him in such situations often, but never before in one with stakes this high. You would think that would change the Praetor's outlook on how to treat his pride. To put it aside for once and admit defeat. But even in the face of death (almost literally), he refused to. 'Idiotic' The side of Calix that was just too tired to continue fighting sighed. If the Praetor suddenly collapsed, knocking over the nalgene and destroying Adele's work space, he'd be in for a lot more hell than now. Might as well give her what she wants now, and once he had followed her instructions up till the point where he ate something, he can come back and properly give her a piece of his mind. But by then, the stupidly stubborn side of him shot back, Calix would have already demonstrated his defeat and entrance into a place much lower than what he had worked to build up for himself. If he gave in this easily, he'd be throwing away his pride! Not just putting it away for a brief second. Like this went his inner battle and hopefully didn't show in his eyes, the resolve then the resignation and the resign once more. Calix himself didn't take a side in the battle... just waited until someone won....

The resignation overwhelmed him. But not completely. Calix swayed on his feet and picked up the water bottle. He took another drink but didn't turn on his heel to retreat back to his room. Instead, Calix lowered himself to the floor, across from Adele. His head throbbed, and he hit the ground hard. Calix cringed, the bottle still clutched tightly in his hand. The Praetor lowered it slowly to keep it by his side and once he let go, clenched his fingers to keep them from trembling. This side effect, he guessed, was the result of his lack of solid sustenance. Maybe Calix should have skipped to the part of Adele's suggestion about the food. But the thought of standing sent Calix's mind spinning so he remained seated. The water would have to do for now. And, honestly, it was all he needed at this point. Calix rubbed his hands together and clenched his jaw. If Adele insisted on turning the Principia into her own personal work space, she'd do it under his supervision. His weak and more than probably insignificant supervision. But at least he was doing something. His duty, finally. For the first time in a long time. Calix imitated Adele's position, crossing his legs but placing his hands on his knees. "I will not."

Carefully he watched her return her headphones to where they belonged, giving him some last sickeningly sweet words before drifting back into her own world filled with, what he now saw to be, paperwork. This detail, in its own significant way, sort of changed the way the Praetor saw her. A quiet place, he realized. That's all she looked for. And, like Calix himself, found the Principia to be ideal. Intrusion for the sake of productivity. Something Calix could oddly respect. Funny the things you could see when getting at somebody's level.... figuratively and literally. He took another drink out of the bottle. He thought about interrupting her... then thought about how he reacted when someone did that to him. If she really was here innocently looking for a place to work, she shouldn't be bothered. But she shouldn't be left alone either. So Calix sat there, keeping watch, taking an occasional swig of water and slowly, ever so slowly, beginning to feel the weight of his eyes increase. But he couldn't fall asleep. He just couldn't. He wouldn't. He refused....

Almost surprisingly, he stooped and picked up the water bottle again. Yes, she had given him a series of tall orders in one of her most threatening tones (third most threatening, to be exact), but Adele knew how much authority her height cost her. The number of times she'd been pissed off over the past year and had snapped at her peers only to be laughed at or told (patronizingly) to calm down was shamefully high. Sure, there were times the person she was yelling at backed down and everyone else left her alone (as she wished to be then and now), but those were almost always when she was standing up, when Adele could show that she was truly not terrified of getting close to someone so much taller than her. This tactic, it ought to be noted, did not work nearly as well with girls - they, unlike guys, weren't afraid to get in Adele's personal space, though they preferred to do so with liquids and knuckles. Not many of them expected Adele to reciprocate the gesture, though.

Carefully and passively, Adele continued to watch as Calix took a drink, though her face fell as he began to sink towards the ground. Apparently, he was the sort that took her words into consideration, though he seemed to ultimately ignore them anyway - oddly similar to what Adele did when she was on the receiving end of a rant or threat. His words did not receive any audible response, though Adele was careful to give him a level glare - his company was not appreciated. But with the headphones on and her eyes on the screen and various papers, Calix soon faded into the background - the paperwork seemed to tell her the answers of what information should be put where, though Adele suspected her annoyance was simply making her work faster, or make work fly by. All in all, the place, even with its dehydrated watch dog, wasn't a bad spot to work, and Adele planned on returning.

--

The next day, Adele woke slightly earlier, ignoring the early pains and grimaces she gave that morning. Normally, Adele woke in the early half of 5:00 and relied on her runner's high to get her through classes until she could shower the sweat away and drink her own coffe (not the stuff the dining hall gave out), but the previous day's annoyance of Calix had both prevented Adele from being able to fall asleep, and then from being able to stay asleep. In response, Adele had given into her body's stubbornness, gotten up nearly half an hour earlier in the pitch-black of predawn and stumbled around the cabin until she was properly clothed for her run that day - by that point, nearly half of her early start had been eaten away. With a sigh of resignation and the determination of someone who merely wanted to crawl back into bed, Adele set out to run her predetermined two perimeters of the campus at a pace that would preserve her fifteen minute lead - it was the same distance she'd run the day before, afterall.

The run, per usual, went faster when Adele had something to chew on, though the first couple of minutes were rough, given that the white glow of dawn hadn't even started yet, and her feet liked to find each and every hole and exposed root. But once the path was lit well enough, Adele's mind worked almost ceaselessly on the party that had welcomed her to the camps and her cabin, though Calix had a way of sneaking in on her attempt at distracting herself from her nightmares. By the midpoint of the first lap, her thoughts had almost completely given way to Calix's treatment and tolerance of her the morning before. Sure, Russell, Bonnie and Bonnie's new BFF, Elijah, wormed their way in every once and a while (they were all "Roman," and thusly linked in the Coloradan's mind), but within the next few strides, Adele found her mind back on her impressions of Calix and the wonderful building that he seemed to have an unfortunate monopoly on. Well, he and Elijah - at least Calix didn't seem to have quite the same opinion of Adele as his fellow Praetor did.

At the end of two, long laps, Adele realized that she had failed to gain her normal endorphin rush. The lack of that wonderful feeling was something that did happen occasionally, but Adele never liked it. At college, the issue was easily enough fixed: all she had to do was get a cup or two of coffee at breakfast, or rinse out her travel mug and fill it with her own brew. But here, things were tricky, especially now that she considered herself in a race with Calix to claim her floorspace in the Principia. If she had more time, Adele would have simply run to the Big House and raided the cabinets until she found a suitable form of caffeine, but as time was short, she merely grabbed her bag and a power bar from her supply in the cabin. The nalgene, Adele knew, was not in the cabin. Chances were that she had left it with Calix, probably because she thought it would do him good to be carrying around a large water bottle. He'd drink from it until it was gone, and hopefully refill it and restart the process - the Adele that hadn't asked for the bottle back forgot how much she sweated in the morning.

Like the morning before, Adele knelt and convinced the lock to open before she entered the gently-lit room. Again, she closed the door behind her quietly, and again, she treaded lightly to the spot she'd selected the morning before. Like then, Adele sat down, set ehr bag down, pulled out her laptop, files and jacket, and put the extra clothing on as she waited for her computer to boot up. Like before, Adele settled into the middle splits, though today she moved between positions that ought to have been her touching her chest to her thighs every once in a while, rather than remaining static in the middle of her legs - another attempt at keeping herself awake. But, as time passed, Adele found herself drifting towards the middle, her face dipping lower and lower to the floor. Oh sure, now that I'm out of bed, you're happy to sleep, Adele grumbled at herself, though she didn't mind too much at that moment. Her dyslexia was notably worse when she was tired, and it had made her work slow all morning - in an attempt to look busy while she napped, Adele dragged the nearest open file under her arms, where she proceeded to place her forehead.

If Calix walked in on her napping like that, at least she could argue that she was recalling filing protocol, trying to remember what her professor had said about such-and-such, or studying the words from a new angle - the Greek gave her a headache sometimes. And if she did hear him and did manage to wake up, such excuses wouldn't be necessary. But it never hurt to be prepared.

When Calix had fought back from the depths of sleep which his mind had traitorously thrown him down, he found himself alone on the ground, the space in front of him empty. Calix would have brushed his encounter with Adele off as a dream, a product of his dehydration if not for the nalgene he still held in his hand. Calix sat up and shook the large bottle. Less than half-full just as he remembered it before he'd knocked out. The Praetor thought about going out to find the girl and return the bottle. It was her property she'd been kind enough to lend to him. And maybe that was her intention, that he have it until he didn't need it anymore. Briefly, the image of a child with its sippy cup passed Calix's mind. And perhaps that's how he'd look. But only because that's how he acted. Calix had only napped for maybe an hour or so. nobody interrupted him. Maybe Elijah did see him, but decided not to bother. What did his partner think, he wondered, seeing the older boy passed out on the floor? At any rate. Calix picked himself up, noting that his vision remained steady as he rose, and trudged back to his room, the water bottle being held firmly in his hands. Amroth, as usual, leapt up and ran toward the Praetor, rubbing himself on the boy's legs before nudging him toward his bed as if he knew the destination in the Praetor's mind. Well, it shouldn't have been too hard to guess, that's where Calix spent most of his time other than the desk where he'd been keeping a diary. The Praetor made a mental note to write one of those again.... And this was the last thought... as Calix went to sleep.

----

The Praetor didn't know how long he slept, just that he woke up a few times in the middle of the night to drink from the nalgene or to feel his way toward the bathroom. Despite these disturbances, Calix felt that he had had a decent night's rest. When the Praetor's eyes snapped open at exactly the same time they had the day previous, he felt the familiar ticking of his inner alarm clock. This filled him with something close to hope. Slowly getting into some sort of routine again. Definitely not as precise and effective to his work as before, but, considering that Calix barely did any work, a great improvement from when he used to wake at all odd hours. Slowly, as to not disturb the headache made dormant from the water, Calix sat up and lifted the bottle to his lips. To his surprise, the Praetor found it almost completely full. Hm. He must have refilled the water bottle sometime during the night as well. Calix swirled the water around the bottle since no one and their mother liked the taste of stagnant water as he stood from the bed. It occurred to him briefly that he still wore the same clothes from the day before. Calix lifted the sleeve to his nose, gauging the freshness. When one barely left the room, it was a bit hard to schedule laundry days and such. But Calix vaguely remembered wearing the same solid black tee for the past three days, so he switched it out for a solid white one.

It didn't take much for Calix to get ready for the day. He took his time, considering that he had absolutely nothing to do... but perhaps keep on drinking to get himself in shape to do something useful. Baby steps. Baby steps. He teetered across the room to enter the bathroom where he washed his face, keeping his eyes cast down at the sink so he didn't have to see how much more sunken his face looked. Calix remembered making the trip to the vanity just to check. See his digression. Perhaps make a little timeline in his mind: how long he had until he'd need to sneak out in the middle of the night to get food. After the first ten times, the Praetor just found it too... frightening. Either way, the low rumbling (too weak to grumble any louder) in his stomach told him that the time was slowly approaching. Calix, still with eyes down, pressed a hand to his abdomen. He felt the remainder of whatever muscle under the skin along with just... thinness. He moved his hand up... he didn't feel his ribs quite yet. But it had only been a month. Give it another or two and surely they'd show next. Calix trudged out, now only slightly more awake, still keeping his eyes down.

Now this wasn't because he didn't want to see himself. Calix had gotten rid of the one mirror in his room (thrown it in the bathroom more like). In his actual quarters, Calix found it hard to find his way around. Mostly because he, like with the mirror, had strewn everything around his floor. Absently, Calix picked up some things to throw them on the desk, like papers of journal entries he tried to write along with the pens and pencils. Shirts and shorts he threw on the bed, nearly burying Amroth under the cloth. Just to clear a path for himself. Then Calix came across Victrix. The Praetor stopped for a second and narrowed his eyes. Of course this wasn't the first time Calix had come across his own weapon.... it being his and all. It was the last thing in his path... and he couldn't move it. He couldn't move Victrix. He couldn't lift Victrix. Because Victrix refused. Like a stubborn child, Victrix crossed its nonexistent arms and blatantly refused to obey its superior. This insolence served as a frustrating but still equally painful memory of what that night did to him. Caused his own weapon, blessed by Bellona, to disobey him. The goddess told Calix when she claimed him that Victrix would only work for him if his mind was clear. If he was true. It sort of baffled the Praetor that the sword would choose to mutiny when Calix was being true to his girlfriend. But evidently his loyalty to the Legion was more important. A part of Calix understood that.... but another part of him questioned why they didn't fall under the same category of importance.

Lifting his eyes a tad so he didn't have to stare at the traitorous weapon, Calix stepped over the gladius and made his way to the door. Only when his hand came in contact with the doorknob did he stop and wait. What was he going out there for? Why didn't he just crawl under his blankets? He could definitely go another few days without food. Calix pushed the questions his submerged consciousness threw at him. Baby steps. Baby steps out of his door. In no way was Calix fully ready to emerge completely from his room and start to integrate with the other Legionnaires. Just a little peek. Get an eyeful of something else other than his room. Get fresher air, stretch his legs out a bit more. As finally some form of exercise. Another thing Calix needed to do. Get back into the training habit... maybe after he ate something. Baby steps. Calix exited his room and closed the door barely just in case the cat needed out for some reason and turned. All of a sudden, a wave of Deja Vu hit Calix like a truck. Because sitting in the same well-lit corner of the Principia, with her head over some papers.... Adele. The intruder from yesterday. Calix wiped at his eyes just to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Pinched himself to make sure it wasn't a dream. So she'd returned after all. Calix had been right about the Principia. A perfect place to work.

The Praetor found his plans (whatever they were) altered seeing the girl there again. Calix shook the water bottle slightly again. Maybe he should give it back. Maybe he should actually thank her this time. Calix walked toward Adele's work space (did he really just call it 'her' work space?) and sat across from her, the same position as before. But something was off. Something different. Calix thought back to the day prior, coming in, seeing Adele hard at work. Already he saw a difference. Calix didn't see a pen or pencil moving under her red hair, or her fingers busy typing on the keyboard. Completely still. That meant one out of two things: and Calix guessed the second because he still saw the girl's back heaving with breath. So. Sleeping. The roles have been switched. Calix didn't think to wake her though. Calix stood once more and walked over to his desk where another small pile of paperwork had started. Soon enough, that pile would disappear, maybe taken by Elijah or thrown into a secret stash where no one would see it... the file on top however would be lucky enough to actually receive attention. Calix plucked the folder from his desk and returned to his spot on the floor across from Adele. He took a sip from the water bottle and opened the file. Armory inventory. Simple enough...

There was a dog - big and black - standing over Adele. It was terrifying.
In all of her life, even when she attended the Highland Festival when she was little more than three feet high and played with the Irish wolfhounds - no dog over the height of her knees terrified that much. Not even when she had been chased down the street by the German Shepard when she was twelve. In the part of her mind that recognized features, a voice shouted that it was a hound, of the hellish variety, and the conscious part of Adele couldn't agree more, though she recognized it still as a larger-than-normal mastiff, which were quite large to begin with. Its eyes were red and Adele blamed that on her blood loss, a detail that clicked into place just as an intense stab of pain made its way from her shoulder through her back. A glimmer of hope said that she'd just rolled onto an ungodly sharp rock, but Adele knew better - she knew the feeling of blood loss from when she'd been hit by the car. A killer dog stood over, presumably the reason why her shoulder was so wounded, and Adele was terrified.

Her hand found a new grip on the thing just outside of her sleeping bag, and Adele took the hardest swing she could muster at the dog - and then the avalanche woke her. With a start and twitch of her left hand, Adele opened her eyes and picked up her head to see that a new stack of papers (in a folder) had appeared just beyond her makeshift pillow. Needing comfort, Adele put her head back on her papers and felt the back of her right shoulder, running her fingers over the scars left from Adele and Bonnie's misadventures with an old and sharp rake. No, those three lines where not from a hellhound. Just from when Adele didn't duck fast enough and Bonnie was falling out of a spin when they were cleaning their yard the last fall they had together in Aspen. Somewhat more relaxed, though her heart still raced in her chest, Adele took a deep breath and looked up again, confirming that the new papers belonged to Calix - the guy she was supposed to be awake for.

A series of muttered curses escaped Adele's lips as she pushed off the floor, only to freeze when she'd moved all of an inch - something in her back had popped, and not in a good way. The chiropractor had told Adele quite sternly that sleeping on her stomach was not something her body could tolerate much more of - that lecture had been at least a full year prior, going on eighteen months. His words, apparently, had been true, and Adele regretted not taking him more seriously - she really appreciated being able to lay down for a couple of hours and not have to roll her back out completely. Through a crazy stroke of luck, Adele had stopped before she really threw her back out - if she sat up slowly enough, she ought to be fine. She could get through her new allotment of work (and stay well ahead of schedule), and still have enough time and privacy to raid the infirmary for drugs. And if that didn't work, the girl could always try some of the gold liquid her mom had sent her in her old nalgene, one that had been in her dream.

Shaking again (Adele not realizing more details about that dream that didn't fit with reality), she sat up slowly, taking the time to push through every vertebrae in an attempt to stop more from sliding out of place. Once her back was straight again, Adele carefully pulled select items closer to her, praying in vain that her hands would stop shaking. It was bad enough the owner of her workspace had wandered in on Adele sleeping; it was worse that she'd woken with a start from the middle of a nightmare that shook her more than it ought to have. The only way she could save face now was if she went back to work and showed Calix that she wasn't a mooch, that she still had a right to be there - in her nap, Adele knew that she had been quiet. Chances were that Calix had simply sat in front of her, the same position as the day before, because he thought she required watching, not because she'd been twitching or squeaking, two things that Adele did very rarely. Her roommates had told her several times that she slept like a log - they'd even thought she was dead a couple of times when they found the girl bunched in a circle, a position they couldn't see if she was breathing in.

And so, Adele resigned herself to working, aware that she didn't quite have the drive that pushed her to work so hard or fast the day before. Part of that, of course, was the lack of music, but while an upbeat song might put Adele in a good mood and increase the tempo of pages being cranked out, she had no tolerance for "fighting" with the computer and dealing with the songs she didn't want to hear. But time passed, and eventually, Adele found herself reaching the end of that day's workload (which bore a done-by date sometime in the next week). Neither teen had spoken during that time, and Adele was mostly glad. He hadn't given her crap for falling asleep, but human conversation was nice some times. Then again, the two were working, and what she remembered of that first glance of the day (when her back felt like breaking) showed that he looked a bit better.

And then the piece of paper Adele was holding was suddenly in Greek, not English. Slowly, Adele sat back and leaned her head against the wall, drawing her legs together - feet on the floor and together, knees in the air - holding the paper in front of her face and watching it with an exasperated look, as if waiting for it to change back to English. Adele had known and mostly accepted the fact the two camps were unusually gung-ho about their nationalities, but writing in Greek or Lating was going a bit far. She'd have to talkt o Mr. Brunner about this.

Evidently it seemed that Calix still wasn't up for doing his most simple task, a chore he actually found a bit relaxing. After a day at the Arena, Calix could always look forward to returning to the Principia and immersing himself in work in which only his fingers and eyes had to move. But as Calix skimmed down the list of weapons the Vulcan campers and other Armory officers compiled for him, the differences of the handwriting made Calix's Dyslexia act up more than usual. Calix sighed and took a drink from the water bottle, hoping that, once it got rid of the headache, it'd help him focus. It did little to do that. The Praetor pressed on the bridge of his nose and sighed quietly. He closed that file. Maybe he could come back to that. Maybe it was too early for him to try to decipher handwriting. Calix usually did his paperwork late at night when, for some reason, his mind worked at a much faster rate. His Dyslexia acted up in the morning and his ADHD in the night, he supposed. Calix put that file to the side and picked up another. Only one person did the writing here. Hopefully it wasn't as horrid as the first file, and he could actually read it without a struggle...

Adele woke at that second with a jolt. Calix started as well at the sudden movement. He took his eyes away from the file and trained them on the girl. Even though she looked in such a deep sleep not a minute before, the movements she made were more exhausted than anything else. He noticed a slight twitch in her left hand before she settled back down on her papers which evidently had become a pillow. Hm. Calix knew what that felt like. To wake up from a dream like that... correction, a nightmare. Calix regarded her carefully, not saying a word. She might have gone back to sleep.... and then he saw more movement. Adele reached up and ran a hand across her back. Part of her nightmare, he assumed? In Calix's nightmare, he always woke up after he drowned, and his hand would immediately go to his neck and he'd be taking deep breaths just to make sure that he was alive and it hadn't really happened. It looked as if Adele was doing the same but with an injury to her back. How interesting. Briefly, Calix wondered what kind of nightmare Adele had. He knew that demigods had many dreams, sometimes recounting the past or foretelling the future.... which one had it been for her?

Calix didn't try to hide his staring, and Adele, having lifted her head once more, caught his eye. Well no. Caught the paperwork he had set next to him. For some reason, this made Calix a bit conscious. So what? Calix wanted something to do while he made sure she didn't destroy the sanctity of the Principia. Absently, Calix took another drink from the water bottle. And then she tried to push herself completely off of the ground with a few curses leaving her mouth. Didn't like to be watched it seemed. Or something else. Something related to her apparent nightmare. Not even halfway to a proper sitting position, she stopped. Calix continued to watch. That definitely didn't look like a comfortable position. But then again, the way she sat yesterday or the way she slept today didn't look quite normal either. And she'd been fine after those, so he really didn't have that much cause for concern. Until she started shaking that was. Calix knew from yesterday that Adele wasn't a person to shiver even in the coldest of temperatures but a person who would stand completely still, completely unfazed. So the fact that she trembled... struggled to sit up was very new.

But she got there eventually, once again dispelling any concern Calix had for her position. Adele didn't even acknowledge his presence and picked up some papers of her own. Probably a sort of 'you-didn't-see-anything' approach to the situation. Calix didn't say anything, lest she snap at him. He took his eyes away from her and focused on the paper in his hands. He was right, a lot simpler to read than the last one. And like that, Calix fell into a similar routine as Adele. Today, though, Calix noticed a few different things, Adele didn't have her headphones on, listening to music. So the silence was prominent for the both of them. And the rate in which she worked. It almost matched Calix, kind of a worrying thing since Calix hadn't done paperwork in weeks while, to his knowledge, Adele did paperwork every day. It must have been the nightmare. Taking a toll on the girl. But once again, Calix didn't budge, didn't speak, didn't look. If she wanted to talk, she would. Calix wasn't exactly one to start conversation. But Adele acted much differently from yesterday. She looked more angry and confused than annoyed. Ok, so maybe Calix stole a glance every now and again to make sure she was ok. She didn't seem so from the looks of it. A bit far from ok. Calix stole a look again, and she was scrutinizing a file with intense concentration... maybe with a bit of frustration.

Calix set down the paper he himself was reading to properly look at her. He swirled the water bottle and took a sip. Then, he passed it over to Adele. Maybe she needed a drink now. A headahce like his perhaps? Calix blinked a few times, still thinking about whether to initiate a conversation. It sort of looked like she needed it. The silence, as much as Calix liked it, and as much as it helped him work, was sort of stifling with two people filling it with nothing. So Calix took a slight breath and spoke quietly. "Are you ok?" A simple sentence which she could answer with one word. Or not answer at all with a glare in his direction. Calix wouldn't care either way. But she had shown concern (kind of) for him yesterday and given him the nalgene. He thought he'd return the favor....

Exactly how much time had passed while Adele stared at the symbols, she didn't know. With other pieces of paper, the occasional sigma and phi had turned out to be Adele's eyes playing tricks on her, but this? This was different. Instead of one letter in every line four or five being in a foreign language on first glance, the entire page was most definitely not in English, and it was not a trick of of light or her sleep-deprived state. It was an absolutely awful situation, and there was no way Adele could both preserve her pride and keep a handle on her temper and frustration while still functioning at a level close to sane. Mr. Brunner would certainly have a difficult time explaining why the paper was in Greek, and Adele would certainly have a difficult time not exploding and asking why he'd legitimately given her the impossible task of translating a language she barely knew the roots of.

Latin, despite Adele's pre-law track in college, was hardly any better. Lawyers weren't fluent in Latin - no, they memorized maybe 50 or so phrases that held more of a romantic ring in the dead language than they did in English, and managed to get the point across in fewer words. Freshmen only knew they phrases they did if they had sat in on numerous hearings and trials, and Adele hadn't been one of those children. Yes, Adele had spent many days watching her father work on cases, but as she had grown older, Donald's position in his firm changed so that he rarely went to court, and when he finally had the chance to bring a case in front of a judge in New York, Adele had been moved out for some time and busy keeping herself afloat - no time for her former day dreams when nine classes' worth of homework was due. And besides, Don didn't share his daughter's ambition of becoming a Supreme Court Justice.

Vaguely wishing her dad could be there right now for her to hug and vent at (he took her stroming and raging surprisingly well), Adele dragged her focus back from wishing the words would turn into Latin next. Dad wasn't there, and he still wouldn't be there if the letters magically changed again. The only person that could help her, in all reality, was Mr. Brunner or the elusive Mr. D, given that those two men had been in charge of paperwork before Adele arrived. Mr. Brunner looked far too pale to be a Grecian native, and "D" was probably short for something - Adele hoped it was a Greek name, and that Mr. D would be as fluent in that language as she was in English. Until she found either man to talk to (the Big House was aptly named - it was an excellent place to play accidental hide-and-seek), it eventually dawned on Adele that she still had more work to do.

A quick glance at the next paper in the pile revealed that it was also in Greek, and if Adele hadn't heard Calix's voice at that moment, she might have simply broke down and started sobbing. Instead, Adele leaned forward, took a deep breath and started thumbing through the pages in her pile, deciding to count the ones in English under her breath. In disbelief, Adele sat back, leaned against the wall again and stared at the ceiling, almost regretting accepting the internship offer. She absolutely hated it when her work load kicked her butt, and it was thoroughly owning her right now - if only Adele hadn't said she was up for any challenge in her first meeting with Mr. Brunner. Physically, Adele was happy to take on any challenge, as long as it wasn't impossible, like her reaching the top shelf with her feet on the ground in a regularly sized home. Mentally, it was a different story - tedium was something Adele could deal with for years on end, but learning a new language that wasn't offered in any public school Adele had heard of? That was over the top.

As soon as her emotions were decently under control again (Adele got more than a bit frazzled when work overwhelmed her) and she trusted herself enough to speak with a level voice, her thought returned to what Calix had asked. No, definitely not OK, Adele thought, but was careful not to say it. If it could be helped, Adele did her best to appear in control at all times, even though the past twenty minutes had been full of her attempting not to break down. No, Calix would get a better answer, one that didn't involve a sarcastic tone or ironic smile. Adele wasn't in college where she could afford to be less professional more often than not - she was in a professional setting (for her, at least), and couldn't treat Calix like she did those in her study group. "You don't happen speak Greek, do you? Or read it, at least?" Adele turned the page that had first started the breakdown so Calix could see it, recognizing that this had to be the low point of the day. Hopefully the day wouldn't flatline at a point that was this depressing.

She definitely didn't look alright. First whatever caused her to jerk up from her sleep and, now it seemed, something in her work. Adele stared at the paper in her hands for longer than Calix ever saw anyone stare at anything. Just stared. Her eyes didn't even skim the document other than a quick two-second once-over. She just stared. Rather different way of doing paperwork than Calix was used to, that was for sure. He signed off on a report carefully, still keeping his eyes on her. He picked up another one. And still she stared. Did the person who penned it have horrible handwriting or something like that? Calix looked down at his own stack of paperwork, remembering the first one that he had picked up then returned to the pile because of that one thing. When Calix lifted his head once more, he saw Adele do the same thing. Calix thought he felt the tension in the room heighten because of that one look. Apparently, what she had been looking for with that one glance didn't reveal itself and whatever negative feeling Adele had remained. In fact, it may have gotten worse. Calix lowered his pen and the paper. A significant change from the calm and collected intruder yesterday.

Then, slowly, it seemed that Calix's message was beginning to make sense to her. Adele's question as a response to his question didn't do much to answer Calix's question, but it did enough. Half of the reason she was bothered: a paper written in Greek. That she just asked him if he could read. The corner of Calix's mouth twitched at the thought. He found it highly amusing. Did Adele forget the building she was currently working in? What part of Camp she was in? Sons/daughters/Legacies of ROMAN demigods made their home in Camp Jupiter. Finding someone who spoke or wrote Greek here was like trying to find a lizard in Antartica. Exceptionally difficult, but with that one odd exception. Calix was not that exception. In the back of his head, he hoped that that exception didn't exist. There would be no Greek-speakers in his Legion. Who used Ancient Greek anyway? Calix picked up his pen and settled the file in the crook of his elbow. "I am Roman," Calix said simply, scribbling something down on the piece of paper before lifting his head.{color=brown]"I do not-"[/color] Calix found Adele holding the file up near his face. Did she assume that seeing it up close would trigger some sort of ability to read Greek? No, Calix didn't read Greek nor did he have the interest in learning... the only problem was....

The file wasn't in Greek. Calix blinked and tilted his head back just a little, just in case he was starting to hallucinate again. But no. He didn't see any odd shapes or symbols on the paper. Just zeroes and ones. A's and B's. Completely normal... English. Was she testing him? Seeing if the water really had helped him return to his senses? He blinked. The letters were still English. Calix quickly glanced over the paper at Adele, trying to see the lie in her face, but he found none. Completely stoic. A good actress perhaps? Calix shook his head. "English. That's English." Calix raised an eyebrow at Adele. What in the world could have happened in the span on twenty-four hours that changed someone so much?... As soon as Calix thought that, he regretted it. Calix's eyes moved down to stare at a spot on the ground, shamed as if she had heard his thoughts. He was definitely one to talk, wasn't he?

But no. Calix had gotten far enough with the water bottle helping his headaches caused by those nightmares. He couldn't afford to take a step back. Whatever small amount of energy he had, Calix needed to focus it on keeping it. And building on it until he could fully function again. Enough to actually sit at his desk and do this for hours. But right now, the few minutes or hours with Adele on the floor was good enough stimulation for the day. His first day actually on the job and something already going awry. Definitely not a good way to test the Praetor with the oncomings of another headache. How would he have handled a situation like this before he had confined himself to his room? That answer came simply: as soon as Calix heard there was a Greek in his Principia, he'd kick them out immediately. Even if that meant calling in guards to 'escort' the intruder out. Obviously that didn't happen and wouldn't. Calix found that, with this new way of looking at things, he couldn't exactly apply any old scenarios to new ones. They simply wouldn't match up. At all. So Calix played everything by ear. It had gone well for a while... until that night. That could account for why Calix shut down so harshly and easily. This is what he got for thinking with his heart rather than his head. Doing something out of the ordinary than he was taught. Death and disappointment. So he had stopped... using his heart. But in this situation, using one's head wasn't any better. Because how in the world could Calix see English and Adele Greek?

((Pretty short, my muse sorta died on me D;))

Adele frankly didn't care about his nationality - goddamit, he could tell just as well as she could that the letters weren't Roman! He was probably proud that English had never found another alphabet they preferred over the one that birthed the lost language of Latin, but right then was not the moment to rub that historic victory and bit of trivia-knowledge in her face. Had he done so, Adele would have continued to behave badly, but instead burst her bubble. The contradiction was simple, and Adele sat back in shock, firstly surprised that such a small answer could burst her bubble, and secondly that her bubble had so easily been burst. Hadn't the past years of bickering with her parents and the life time of small squabbles with her sister prepared her for such killer three-word answers? Apparently not, and Adele didn't take it easily. College had softened her up a great deal - the change wasn't appreciated.

In an effort to show that she was right and Calix was just trying to get her out of his place, she flipped the paper over and examined it again, her heart sinking through her stomach as she was the very Roman letters in the very English words. Great, the bitterness in her internal voice was impossible to miss. Now he thinks you're a nutcase, it continued. Too ashamed to look Calix in the face or even steal a glance to see if she could guess what he was thinking, Adele gathered her stuff and replaced each item in her backpack, thoroughly beating herself up for ruining such a good, productive area. On the bright side, she was now at least a week ahead (the condescending internal voice added), but it was unlikely she would be able to keep such a drastic lead, not when she was fighting for a spot at the ping pong table.

A small "Oh," followed Adele's realization, accompanied shortly by an equally quiet choice word. And without another word, Adele stood, slung her bag over her shoulder and forced muscles stiff from rest to work as she walked out the door, not bothering to lock it that time.

--

More than a day passed before Adele convinced herself to get back up uncomfortably early, run, and return to the Roman Room, as she called it. Latin just didn't stick with her, it seemed. Given the circumstances, Adele didn't entirely expect to be welcomed back with open arms, even if that hadn't been the opening attitude. Calix, in the most likely circumstance, would order her out. If he was particularly unhappy, then there was a chance Adele would be carried out. But if everything was in Adele's favor, Calix would merely great her with what she assumed was his natural level of obliviousness, and they'd continue work as they had the past two times. Perhaps neither would fall asleep that time, but that was yet to be seen. Adele had skipped her morning work outs that morning and the morning before, and she felt unusually rested, though not quite energized. She could hope filing would increase the adrenaline currently in her system, but a five-year-old could point out quite accurately that filing never energized anyone. Oh please, let stuff happen, Adele offered vainly to whatever deity might be listening, and half-hoping that none were - "let stuff happen" was an uncomfortably vague phrase to put in the hands of those that just like to play with humans.

Despite the later hour, Adele knelt to unlock the Principia door, not really trusting herself to try to open the stupid thing quietly, especially if it was locked. Calix and Elijah would probably love the chance to ban her from New Rome, the former for being related to Bonnie, the latter for interrupting his work. Again, not a win-win for Adele, so she picked a door that was probably already unlocked. Only once during the process did Adele's mind stray to her water bottle, an object she'd missed more in the days she hadn't run over the day she had run. Presumably, Calix had it, and a part of her mind wanted to say he had been offering her it the last time they'd been together. As it turned out later, the bottle was most definitely not in Adele's possession. It was a good bottle, and as long as Calix continued to hydrate himself appropriately, the two would have no quarrel over the possession or use of the BPA-free plastic. The only argument would arise if he made it impossible for her to get it back (like banning her from Camp Jupiter that very second), or if he withheld it while she was packing for her trip back to college, back to Colorado, at the end of the summer.

Realizing with a start that the door was unlocked, Adele stood and tucked her lock kit into her pocket, realizing with a slight twinge of disappointment that she wouldn't be able to straddle her work the entire time, as she had seemed to like doing: jeans were a far more restrictive fabric than her cotton shorts. On the bright side, however, the ginger had more than enough fabric to keep her warm and her mind off the temperature. Despite her lack of noticeable goosebumps or shivers, the building really was uncomfortably cold for work, and Adele didn't appreciate it. Ice-cold floors and walls were handy for her skipping ice baths and packs, but after her muscles had cooled, the benefits quickly became negative. Getting up was painful, and it was a small miracle that Adele hadn't waddled out of the building last time - or maybe she had, and just hadn't noticed in her rush to get her head on straight. Walking bowlegged wasn't a new experience for Adele: she had weak knees, and skiing had been hard on them - it was the reason why she'd gotten surgery more than once, the first of the smattering of scars on her legs.

Contrary to form, Adele didn't rush off to her quiet spot against the wall, and instead let the door close behind her, catching it only before it slammed shut. If luck was on her side, Elijah would be out and about (so any possible sound the door made wouldn't catch the Roman's attention), and Calix would still be in his room. If Calix was in his room, then there was no reason to let him know she was late. Granted, her run had been tiny, allowing her plenty of time to change into some jeans and a collard shirt - a green version of the orange and purple ones she saw floating around the camps every-so often. The orange ones Adele absolutely refused to wear (orange on a ginger never ended well), but it had been a small miracle Argus had found the XS cool-wick fabric Delphi Farms shirt. It gave Adele just enough confidence at that moment to walk calmly to her normal spot, even though she didn't look at her destination. If Calix was there, giving a supremely disappointed glare, she'd deal with it while she was setting up for the day. If he wasn't, then luck was on her side.

Calix was sure he had taken on the appearance of a fish while trying to find words to deter Adele from leaving the Principia. But he couldn't exactly find any. Maybe he had been wrong, and the paper had been in Ancient Greek after all? It would have made more sense for Calix to be mistaken, considering he was the one who could barely stand during their first meeting. But the words wouldn't leave his mouth... because he had already convinced himself of his validity (kind of annoying, but it showed that slowly but surely Calix was beginning to be like himself again). Calix even tried to stand when she began to walk to the door, but a sudden throbbing in his head prevented him from doing so, and he only got a squeak of, "Your bottle..." before the door closed behind her.

---

The next day, Calix left his room with the nalgene, expecting to see Adele in her usual place, bent over some papers or her laptop. But when he exited the room... he saw no one there. Calix glanced at the clock on the wall. It should have been around this time. Maybe she was running a little late. So Calix settled himself on the ground, across from where the girl usually sat and waited. And waited. And waited. An hour passed and still no one walked through the doors. Calix found himself casting glances at the front of the Principia more often than not, and it horribly threw off his working rhythm. After another thirty minutes and half a report (he couldn't bring himself to finish the other half), Calix gave up. He stood up and closed the file, throwing it on Elijah's desk before retiring to his room... a lot earlier than usual. The morning after that, Calix didn't expect much. He obviously discouraged her from coming to the Principia any longer. Adele probably found another, more comfortable nook to work in. So Calix didn't have to bother getting up. He could sleep in again. He could, once again, submerge. When he woke, Calix nearly rolled back over and pulled the covers tighter, but his inner alarm clock wouldn't stop ringing. He needed to get up. He needed to do something... to continue working, and helping Elijah out paperwork-wise as much as possible. So Calix got up and went out.

The Praetor was starting to have a small sense of accomplishment, going out almost every day and doing some bit of work to ease the load of his partner. That sense, however, would not grow. He wouldn't allow it to. Not until he fully ingratiated himself in his work once more. Stood face to face with Elijah in his armor, reporting for duty once more. It had crossed Calix's mind many times. Why didn't he just sit at his desk at the end of the day and begin to work? Throw himself back into the life? Because Calix had some explaining to do. He had a feeling that Elijah would not allow Calix to simply go on with his life without talking to him. And Calix didn't think that he could handle something like that right now. He wanted to be, he really did. It hurt Calix that Elijah had to do all this work by himself. But Calix was beginning to feel ok again... any day now he'd be ready. He just feared that, if their loss were to be mentioned, Calix would fold into himself again. And this time, who knew when (or if) he'd get out of it. So Calix settled for this for now, helping in the tiniest way he could. It was better than not helping at all. He sat at the same old spot... no one there to greet him. Calix sighed inwardly and opened the file on his lap. Might as well get something started... he'd try not to look at the door too often this time.

And Calix didn't need to for long. About fifteen minutes in, he heard the click of the door opening. Calix tensed. What if it was Elijah instead? And he bombarded Calix with accusations? Calix definitely deserved them. Fingers shaking, Calix closed the file and turned to look. Ah. So she had decided to show up after all. Adele had sneaked into the Principia (which Calix generously left unlocked just in case she did decide to join him that morning) but didn't immediately go to her spot. Calix turned away and opened the file once more. He thumbed through the papers silently and patiently, waiting for her to settle. It didn't quite show in his face, but the Praetor was almost relieved that Adele decided to come back. She was starting to become a part in his resurfacing. That much was evident in the fact that Calix nearly didn't get out of bed at the thought that she might not be stopping by that day. Someone needed to keep an eye on her. It gave Calix a sense of responsibility again... that would slowly ease him back into the regular life of being Praetor. Vaguely, Calix wondered if Elijah was aware that a Greek was making herself at home in the Principia every morning.

Calix heard footsteps coming closer to his position, and he straightened his posture. He needed to look a little presentable. Calix's fingers closed around the water bottle, which he had brought out with him (like he did the day before) and he took a little sip. Calix thought of what to say. If he should say something at all or just keep quiet and focus on the report. If he were to say something, he'd ask Adele how she was holding up. Skipping a day of work must have been something of an abnormality with her. He guessed that she was like him in a way... always working. And kind of liking it. Calix could have said that he couldn't imagine one day without work... but then he had gone weeks and even a month or two without it. Acquiring the habit of not working was just as easy as acquiring the habit of working in the first place. And once you stopped it became increasingly harder to start again. Calix decided not to speak. Bringing up what happened two days ago might not be the brightest idea. So he turned his attention to the paper, scribbling something down and turning another page.

It wasn't until Adele found her feet at the wall, turning to sit in her normal place did she realize - actually realize - that Calix was already there, perfectly awake, working. Three, four days ago, he had been a mess that could not be put to work; two days ago, the roles had switched with Adele struggling to keep up, and now, Adele felt like that switch had become permanent. She felt mentally restored, and, well, rested. Apparently her natural state of worrying about work and stressing about the undone work on her plate had degraded her quality of sleep, a fact that most definitely had gone unnoticed until then, when she had briefly and unconsciously compared herself and Calix. Thank God one of us getting some quality sleep, Addy thought dryly, her knees bending until she hit the floor, when she lifted her bag off of her shoulder and onto the ground next to her. Within minutes, the usual stacks of papers were in their normal positions, her computer open, earbuds in, and files being examined. After a few minutes of such activity (about fifteen), Adele found herself glancing at Calix every few pages, and removing one of the earbuds, though the cord still rested on the back of her neck.

As far as Adele could tell, Calix worked diligently, writing something on one piece of paper, then turning to the next, one hand straying to a water bottle (that she didn't immediately recognize as hers, despite having thought about it when she was opening the door) when it wasn't needed. A small frown appeared on her face when she did realize that the nalgene was, indeed, hers, but the discomfort she felt was diminished when she realized he was continuing to put it to good use - at least some part of her lecture from that first day was something he could follow. How much more of it he'd taken to heart, Adele couldn't be sure, but there was an easy-enough way of finding that out: talking. Ever since the beginning, three long days ago, one of the two had made it feel like talking was the greatest taboo, and each day for somebody, it had been. Yesterday... Addy decided to call that a neutral day. She had "socialized" most of the afternoon away (if you could call sitting in on one of the many ping-pong table meetings being social) before wandering the many rows of the strawberry fields, shamelessly helping herself to her favorite fruit growing up, and only barely managing to keep a straight face whenever someone asked her what she was doing, harming the crops? No, sampling what I'm supposed to be selling this weekend at the market, Adele responded, nonchalantly placing another strawberry in her mouth. A good salesman knows her wares, doesn't she? That normally shut them up, and if it didn't, Adele asked them to take it up with Argus, her partner in distributing the fruit to the various farmers markets and groceries on the weekends.

Their next trip wasn't scheduled for another two days (painfully early in the morning), and Adele found herself nearly done with the growing season's accounts and digitalization, and the prep work for the weekend's business wouldn't take much more than an hour. (And then, in Adele's little fantasy, she'd be caught up entirely with her work after Monday, and free to celebrate and skip around, and maybe even spend some time with family - but she was an intern, and there were always more degrading chores to be done that Mr. Brunner would assign with some reluctance.) Hopefully breaking the silence with more than her music (which was still very private to Adele) wouldn't be too terrible of a crime in Calix's book. And asking what activities he'd been up to would be a pleasant-ish way to kill some time, and to boost her favor with at least one Praetor, the scheming part of her mind added. Between the two men, Calix was by far the least interested in helping Adele salvage and preserve her relationship with Bonnie, but Elijah seemed to be trying to make up for something more than sibling-like when she watched him from afar. Though she couldn't be sure - Adele was careful not to ask too many questions about the Romans, for the Greeks liked the Romans as little as the Romans liked the Greeks - there was a decent chance that Calix had been at this a good deal longer than Elijah. Hopefully some sort of seniority thing would give Adele a boost.

A few more minutes ticked by as Adele finished one of two rows in her spreadsheet, giving her ample-enough time to think of some conversation starter that didn't completely suck. Given Adele's natural lack of eloquence, it was an unusually hard process, especially since she wanted Calix to respond rather than just being an object to talk at, as he'd proved to be the very first time around: an object that talked back and didn't take advice easily. Carefully, the Greek typed in a few more characters, taking extraordinary care to make sure each letter or number was correct, and not in any other language. And, as luck would have it, Adele finished inputting data long before her mind had settled on words. Awesome. Freakin' awesome, Sarcastic Adele thought, extremely unhappy with the timing of those two tings, but forcing herself to take a deep breath in, sit up (straighten her back, mostly) and look his face over again, searching for inspiration. "You look better," she finally commented, kicking herself for not thinking of that simple greeting earlier.

As she spoke, Calix lengthened his back and pulled his shoulders down, a trained reflex of someone who either instinctually or had been trained to care about his appearance. Adele had been trained into such behavior, and her own experience of sitting with her mother for miniature and sharply curtailed etiquette lessons didn't help her with attempting to sort Calix into one of the two scenarios. If she had to trust her gut, Adele would say Calix was the instinctual: it had been easy to pick up on the fact he wasn't right the first time they met, though she couldn't pinpoint which aspects had made her sure that he missed being so high on the totem pole, very subtle clues that Adele believed she wouldn't give off. No, if the ginger had been so off in her own land, she would have acted drastically differently - there would have been no confrontational impulse that would result in her threatening someone occupying her space outside of her room.

With stiff grace (Probably out of practice, the dry part of her humor thought), Calix accepted the compliment as a compliment, though he seemed to put his work aside for a second and focus on her. It was a brief struggle, but Adele squirmed only slightly, moving just enough that she was no longer sitting in a deeper-than-expected crack between the tiles and instead bridging it, providing a slightly more comfortable sitting arrangement, though the initial relief gave way to a dull pulse. Hopefully he hadn't read the gesture correctly and noted that she was uncomfortable under scrutiny, hopefully she'd managed to downplay her natural awkwardness and appear as unawakward as possible. Well, that was an awkward thought, her dry side said again, making Adele even more painfully aware of the irony of the situation that had just happened, only for her mind to continue down its self-loathing path and point out that she, a 19-year-old, successful college student, was seeking a decent amount of approval from someone a few years her junior.

Adele felt nothing at the arrival of that thought besides shock and disappointment.

"Oh, um, thanks," Adele's mouth ran automatically as her mind slowly dragged itself back from making the bottom of her stomach drop down its usual path of intestines, then the floor. The nurse part of her, the bit that was moth definitely Kathleen and not Donald, wanted to know if he'd taken any of her other kindly-meant orders, but the Donald, future-lawyer part, had the sense to intervene and stop the ginger from blurting out "Have you eaten anything yet?" From the small and highly limited interactions the two had had, Adele could tell Calix would be the sort to be immediately offended, and there would go Adele's haven of productivity - not a good plan. Instead, the pause allowed the Coloradan to notice the smile on Calix's face. Adele was fairly certain that he'd never allowed himself any emotion besides anger and annoyance around her before, and he wasn't sure if she'd allowed anything other than those same things around him, assuming her embarrassment at passing out and proceeding to have a nightmare didn't actually show: Adele was certain that it had. But all the same, he'd seemed to forgive her for that moment of weakness, and God knew Adele appreciated that, and she hoped that, through some complex series of connections, Calix would be appreciated for that, either by Argus, Mr. Brunner or the mysterious Mr. D.

But, even with the brief, tactful distraction, it turned out that barely a second had passed. Her thoughts had been amorphous and conceptual, rather than a logical order of words that formed an idea. The nurse-side, the side that had earned her the nickname "Mom" more than once through out the years, won out and the lawyer and businesswoman within her sat down with the nurse and had an equally brief discussion about the words that were about to come out of her mouth. There was a visual that went along with that, of three small, ginger redheads, dressed in their profession's clothing (white lab coat, conservative suit, couture suit), and the voice in the back of her head made a rude comment, inquiring on what she was doing. Shut it, was Adele's reply before her mouth opened and the final product of her three selves spilled out, the inner voice choosing to make unnecessary commentary. "Look, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, and I'm sorry if you do, but my mother's in medicine, so it's kinda just how I think-" Smooth, came the voice, sarcastic, per usual. "But I know you look a lot better than you did at the beginning of the week-" Still smooth! You should get a nobel peace prize!, followed by Not helping, Voice, "And I just have to ask - have you actually eaten anything, or has it just been the water?"

Calix feared the way he sounded and appeared. It had been a long time since he’d been part of a formal affair or even been in a situation where he’d had to communicate with someone he didn’t know all that well and had to be polite. It should have been easy for him. It usually was. But that and the fact that he had virtually disappeared from the entire world, not just his duties, had horribly impaired his ability to do so, and he feared that he had said something wrong or looked at Adele in an incorrect way. Calix didn’t exactly know what that something he said or the way that he looked was but whatever it might have been, it didn’t seem to be all that bad. Adele didn’t stand up and storm out of the Principia or give him a look and return to her work. She accepted his compliment as he accepted hers if not in a more reserved way. Throughout this entire mental panic, Calix kept his lips pressed together and he breathed in and out through his nose. He hoped his hands were relaxed and not clenched and his face didn’t look like a child who had been dared to hold his breath. When Adele replied, Calix breathed a little easier. How ridiculous. Wanting the approval of a Greek. Some part of Calix yelled, used words like ‘pride’ and ‘treason’. Calix didn’t know what kept those thoughts from rising to the surface, being tired of fighting with himself or just simply being tired, but they didn’t get that far before being taken over by a mad dash of an attempt to answer Adele’s next question: if he’d eaten anything.

Like how he was supposed to talk, Calix was usually very good at keeping his feelings away from his face, maintaining a composed expression and posture. Just… not right now. Calix was only now realizing the extent of the consequences that came with keeping himself locked in his room. The fact that he feared what he looked like, what his eyes might give away, showed how badly the lack of sunlight, water and proper nutrition affected him. And somehow it had been more noticeable than he had first anticipated. Adele seemed not to notice the change in his posture; how it looked less regal than it usually did or those weird expressions he thought he was making. Instead she saw the weakness in his muscles (the reason he tended to slump nowadays), the paleness of his skin, his cheeks and neck a bit thinner than before. Adele wouldn’t have been able to tell something was wrong right off the bat; they hadn’t met before that first morning. But no human being who had been near deadly dehydrated ever looked like this if they had taken care of solid sustenance as well and anyone in their right mind knew that. So it was a no-brainer that the girl decided to ask that next. Foolishly, Calix fought again, trying to make himself seem less weak, but he found that the effort he put into the façade wasn’t worth it. Calix looked down at the papers, thinking about shrugging off the question and returning to work. No. He crossed that off as an option right away. He didn’t want to seem rude and disregard a question that she asked for his well-being. Calix ran a hand through his hair.

“What Elijah brings for me,” he said. Did Adele know Elijah? She might have run into him walking out of the Principia or passed him in the streets. Did the Legionnaires talk about their Praetors by their names? At any rate, Calix didn’t know how Adele would take that new tidbit of information. Would she think that Elijah brought him only one meal a day? A bowl of cold soup every two? Calix’s face did look like either one of those options. But both of them weren’t true. He made sure that Calix had something to eat every day for every meal. Calix just… didn’t touch most of it. He ate enough that he didn’t die of starvation but not enough so he felt a kind of chronic rumbling in his stomach that he kept at bay by eating a tiny bit more. But Amroth, the cat, ended up eating more than he did usually… and sleeping more than he did. Calix didn’t think he had been as jealous of a cat as he was at that moment. Calix, a lot more aware, tried to make himself look less sorry than he actually was. He felt a rebuttal coming up from her, so he continued on, talking a lot more than he was used to at that point. “It’s enough.” So maybe not all that much. Calix hoped that she dropped it after that but what happened after assured the Praetor that she’d be asking a lot more questions soon. Calix’s body betrayed him. His stomach decided to purr in discontent at that moment. Calix never remembered something like that ever happening before.  And at such horrid timing.

He bent his head over his work and started writing again. It had been a quiet sound, perhaps masked by the whirr of the air-conditioning around them. Calix didn’t quite look at the report and, instead, wrote very generic comments that were neither exceptionally amazing or would tear the person who wrote it apart. Calix didn’t exactly think as he wrote. Once he finished with this pile, he could go get a little more sleep before he went to train again that night. Adele once left with no explanation, Calix could do the same. But that’s not how Calix worked. He didn’t place generic answers and comments on reports. He read them thoroughly and made his responses the same. So Calix slowed down, half pleased that his work ethic hadn’t suffered along with… well, almost everything else about him and half annoyed at the same thing. Calix hoped that the silence lasted long enough for the grumbling to go on forgotten or long enough for Calix to think of something else to say. But since the Praetor was absolutely no good at the latter….

((So bad, so sorry XD))

Adele was normally the sort of person that read up on tricks to tell if someone was lying, but she was of the group that never remembered any bits of that advice, even when whoever was directly in front of displayed every single one. That was why Adele's eyes opened slightly wider when she realized exactly what it was that Calix was doing - looking down, silent so far. There was, of course, the chance that he was dealing with a very ugly truth, but it was far more likely that he was going to lie, at least in part, to her. The small part of herself that wasn't rocking head-over-heels in her excitement that she recognized a tell prepared itself to take what he said with a grain of salt - he could, of course, avoid the question entirely, and that would take a little bit more tact than she had pulled together so far to handle. But then his answer caught her off guard, entirely. That's not a grain of salt, that's a ship's worth, her inner voice mused.

Reflexively, Adele's eyes narrowed and her shoulder blades drew themselves together, shallow breaths now coming as Adele did her best to hold in her surprise and anger at the mention of his name, though she hid it poorly. The small portion of her that was partial to reason and forgiveness seized the opportunity to point out that if Bonnie was so deeply infatuated by the smaller, gothier Paetor, Elijah couldn't be all that bad. He'd been a good brother to Bonnie, Adele had to face that fact, so the possibility of him being just as loving to another human wasn't entirely strange and unpredictable, but Adele still didn't like it. The very first time she and Elijah had met, he'd challenged her on her actions of sibling responsibilities. The second time they'd met, Adele had lost her head, and she had little to no interest in being around him ever again, even if Bonnie begged her to - the two together was too much like fighting fire with fire.

The look of distain must have been noticed, given that Calix tacked on an answer quietly. There was a growling of some digestion organ, most likely a stomach, but Adele didn't care to figure out whose it was. Again, he bent over his work, clearly intent on avoiding any more questions, but Adele sat back, her shoulders finally relaxing from their Elijah-induced position. After a few seconds, her back found the wall, and she stopped to process what had just happened - besides admitting that the office of praetor seemed to communicate well and freely, especially when both ends were well, nothing too surprising had really happened. She had expected Calix to not be eating enough, though she saw he had been getting enough water. That much was a relief. But still, the issue of solid substance needed to be addressed, and becoming passive aggressive would not help her case, and most definitely put her closer to being kicked out. Maybe he hadn't felt strong enough to call her out on trespassing before, but the more he drank and ate, the stronger he became.

"Of course," Adele said softly after a pause, leaning forward again to resume her work, mimicking Calix. Of course it's enough, the thought finished in her head, the tone of disbelief loud and present in her mind, making up for its complete removal in its spoken form.

((I'm suuuuuuper sorry for the delay. Sorry.))

Another reason why Calix turned back to the file as quickly as he did was the answer to his internalized question about Adele knowing about Elijah. He’d seen the way she reacted. The way she retracted and tried to hold in whatever fierce feeling he saw very briefly in her expression. Somehow Calix always found a way to say something wrong without even trying. Just when the Praetor thought he was getting somewhere with the girl other than sitting there in silence and trying to find a way to apologize for taking her water bottle but thank her for it at the same time, he’d run into a wall. Calix kicked himself mentally. He might as well have kept his mouth shut. And he didn’t see it getting better anytime soon. Even though it appeared as if Calix had once again submerged himself completely in his paperwork, he kept an ear out for the inevitable scoff of disbelief he knew Adele would give him. Had he permanently put himself on her bad side? She spoke as curtly as he did and even more sparingly. The Praetor shifted a little and turned a page. He didn’t want to respond in a slight fear that whatever came out of his mouth would dig him into a deeper hole. Of course she didn’t believe him. Calix would have been more of a fool to think that she would believe him right away. The betrayal of his stomach assured him of that. So Calix only took a breath and flicked up his eyes to look at her once more before returning his full attention to the work.
 
---
 
With less difficulty than the last few days, Calix sat up in his bed. It didn’t take all of his power to keep his eyes open and he stood without having to keep his balance on the bed frame. He actually walked and didn’t trudge to the bathroom and found the shower to be refreshing instead of a hassle. He actually looked himself in the mirror that day and, even though he didn’t exactly like what he saw, he thought it tolerable and took the time and effort to rid himself of the small amount of stubble on his chin. Calix walked back into his room and changed instead of going out to work right away. He wore jeans instead of sweatpants and a crisp purple Camp Jupiter shirt instead of the worn and nearly threadbare one he had since he was fifteen. He looked at himself again in the full-length mirror but not out of vanity like he would have done a time ago. He did look better, he decided. His cheeks looked fuller and his skin healthier. He could have done with a few more sessions in the Arena, but he was working on that currently. Soon, Calix would be back in physical shape. This made his expression curl into something close to a smile. On a face that hadn’t taken on such a look in the longest time, the smile looked a little twisted, definitely out of place. Maybe he should stick with scowling for now. Until he found an actual reason to smile.
 
Calix looked at his table where his set of armor sat. The golden surface had a small layer of dust on it. Three months’ worth. Calix sighed. He’d have to find time to clean it up sooner rather than later. So he exited his room without his Praetor wear like he did everyday but not with the same mindset. Over the course of the last few days, as getting up and going out to do some paperwork had become a sort of habit, Calix found the process of getting there easier. He didn’t wonder if the work would be worth it. He knew it was if it helped Elijah even a little bit. And when one habit started, others began. He sneaked out of his room in the middle of the night much more often to steal to the Arena and get some actual training in. Then he would sleep once more until his inner alarm clock woke him for the morning. That hour or two of slashing at dummies had increased his appetite and he’d been eating much more of the food that Elijah left at his door. Once he had to remind himself to leave some bits for Amroth who’d also began to notice this change. The cat became more energetic as Calix did, asking for more affection which he gave without a second thought. Presently, Amroth ran up to him and purred, nuzzling his leg for a second before bounding back up to the bed. Maybe that was why. He had the entire bed to himself. Calix shook his head and exited the room.
 

Calix picked up a stack of files from Elijah’s side of the table and made a move to walk toward the corner where he usually sat and started working. Eventually he would hear the door unlock and lift his head to see Adele. She would join him and they’d work until she left. Calix would hole himself up in his room once more and, on normal days, sleep until dinner came or sleep until he woke at two to go work out once more. Maybe today he’d have something else to do. Calix’s demeanor had been changing slowly but surely over the past few days and changing for the better. And as if he hadn’t changed everything about himself drastically, Calix decided to sit in his Praetor’s chair instead of the floor. He noticed how the top of the chair had also accumulated a little bit of dust, and he wiped it away quickly. Sitting there felt so familiar yet so foreign. His side of the desk looked as immaculate as always if not a bit empty. He cured that quickly by filling the space with his papers, leaving the far half a bit clear for Adele. Calix assumed that she’d appreciate a cushion instead of the floor. He settled into the regular rhythm, fresh and ready to take on the day… unlike he’d been the first day.

((Told you I'd be apologizing too ^^"))