Would you know the real sea if you only knew the picture?

[artemiodes]

Later, she remembers that night only in bits and pieces. When the memories come to her, as they do for the rest of her life, it would only ever be in flashes - of smell (sex, and embers, and autumn), of color (blue-black of night, ice-white of moon, wild orange of fire and Francis’ hair), of taste and touch (rough leaves beneath feet, the

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[mdidiusfalco]

Let it never be said that M. Didius Falco was ever the type to pass up the opportunity to help a lady in distress. Especially when the lady in question looked as though she might just possibly be from somewhere that I knew.

"Juno! What happened to you?" There was an awful lot of blood on her hair, but I wasn't entirely certain whether I wanted it to be hers or not. If it was her own blood then she was injured and I was in no real position to help with that. But if it wasn't her blood then whose was it?

[artemiodes]

The voice that comes to her (for some reason, her hearing is more reliable than her sight, and it is a moment before the man swam into view) has a strangely familiar accent to it, perhaps as a strange residue from the ceremony she had just enacted. Hands trembling slightly at her side, more with exhaustion than fear, Camilla tries to say that she is fine, that she needs a cold shower, maybe, but nothing more extreme than that - but her lips can form no words. Finally, she shakes her head, but more in frustration than in reply.

[mdidiusfalco]

Mute then, but it was recent. No mute I'd ever seen back in Rome ever looked that frustrated at not being able to speak, even the ones who had been silenced on purpose. "Are you hurt? Is that blood yours?"

I crouched down closer to her. There was no wound that I could see, other than the cuts on her feet, and her chiton was oddly free of blood. Even with a head wound, and I had seen plenty of them, there would at least have been more blood on her clothing and face. It was an odd picture, but I was more than a little excited. After months on the island I was beginning to fear my investigative skills were going to seed.

[artemiodes]

Camilla has to bring a hand to her hair, feeling carefully, mouth turned down in a thoughtful frown, before she answers with a shake of her head. Though her heart still beats rapidly and her eyes are over-wide, her senses are returning to normal, and something of her strange predicament slowly occurring to her. Where am I? she wants to ask, for she realizes now what should have been obvious immediately: this is not Vermont. But mute as she is, she can only grip this man's arm and hope that he is trustworthy.

And that he doesn't ask too many questions.

[mdidiusfalco]

I sighed, getting myself up first, then bringing her along with me. Any sort of explaining would probably go over a lot better if done somewhere that she could sit down and get cleaned up. Any sort of questioning could probably wait until later too. Questioning would definitely be taking place though, even if she couldn't speak.

"You aren't where you were," I said conversationally, starting off for the compound and trying to be mindful of the state of her feet. "It's best not to think about it too hard. Some things are too weird and life's too short."

[artemiodes]

I know she wants to say with the knowing superiority of one who has seen gods and lived to tell the tale. I know that better than your small mind could ever realize. But the emotion behind the thought cannot quite make it into words, and Camilla's only reply is a mad sort of giggle. Legs not carrying her with anything close to usual strength, she is leaning heavily against this man she has barely met, though with those careful vowels, and dark hair, and strong jaw, it is easy for her to pretend that he is Henry.

[mdidiusfalco]

It was the giggle that clued me in really. I'd had my suspicions before then of course, but the laugh sealed the deal. There were only three reasons to sound like that: being drugged, insane, or in the throes of an extreme religious fit. At the moment I was sincerely hoping for cultist, if only because it might be easier to handle. If it was a truly worst case scenario she would turn out to be all three at the same time. Trust me to be the one to find these sorts of women.

To distract myself that she could have easily been multiple varieties of crazy, I chattered to myself as we walked. "Now, going by the dress I'd say you were Greek, but the hair's too light. Macedonian? Or dyed? I might even go on a limb and say Celt, but you don't usually find them at your everyday Bacchanalia, do you? Very picky on that point, cultists..."

[artemiodes]

Already barely on the edge of sense thanks to exhaustion and disorientation, her makeshift rescuers monologue sets Camilla off on an uncontrollable burst of half-mad giggles which surely only prove his point. Oh, how right he is, and yet how very wrong! He must be teasing her, she easily assumes, must be some Classics scholar, perhaps a friend of Julian's. What friend of Julian's would be so far from Hampden in the middle of the night, she doesn't know, but in her state, she does not think on it long.

Her laughter is soon cut short when the sharp pain in her feet becomes too unbearable. She is gasping soon, and with a pained shake of her head she has to stop. How is it that she had run so far that very evening without noticing the way the ground cut her bare feet to ribbons?

[mdidiusfalco]

The sudden stop in our progress halted my ramblings as well. I sighed. There was nothing else for it. With a series of muttered apologies (including a few in Greek, just in case)I lifted her up as gently as I could. Luckily the lady was slight and I was quite a bit stronger than I looked, otherwise my gallant gesture might have ended in disaster. As it was our progress after that was fine... as long as I remembered not to take any peeks down the girl's rather revealing drapery.

"You know, this is exactly what I wanted to be doing today. I woke up and I said to myself, 'Marcus, what you need in your life is more damsels in distress. When was the last time you pulled off a good old-fashioned rescue? Probably that bit with the would be Vestal down the well, but that doesn't quite count, does it?' Damn plants." I narrowly avoided an entanglement with some undergrowth and continued trudging. "'After all, if we want to get into technicalities I'm sure there must be age limits on damsels.'"

[artemiodes]

Camilla automatically wraps her around around this kind stranger's neck, clinging to him to stop from falling. Her heartbeat is slowing, her senses returning to normal, and the gravity of her situation is beginning to sink in. She has no idea where she is or how she got there, she has only the faintest understanding of what happened over the last few hours, and she is covered in blood that is growing sticky and unyielding. But Falco cradles her kindly, and his words are wry, and most of all, there is nothing she can do for the time being. She is alert now, but relaxed, and she giggles a little in a sleepy sort of way at the man's joke about damsels.

[mdidiusfalco]

I smiled. It's always nice when your attempts at humour are recognized, no matter the mental state of the audience. I only wished there was something I could do other than chatter. The situation made me wish more than ever that Helena was there, or even, dare I say it, my mother. While the idea of her being on the island was slightly terrifying there was no doubt that Ma would have known exactly what to do with something like this. Most likely wash, clothe and bandage the girl, then proceed to feeding her for the next few hours straight. I would have to see what I could do in her absence as soon as I got to the compound.

"Normally I don't much go in for the whole rescuing bit, especially not since I got here. Come to think of it, you now have the dubious honour of being my island first. We'll have to get someone to strike a medal to commemorate the occasion. Something suitably heroic, with me in profile and perhaps some laurels, some stirring words on the edges."

[artemiodes]

That makes Camilla snort softly with amused disdain. She wishes again that language hadn't so inexplicably deserted her - not this time because of the questions still teeming in her head, but because she would have liked the opportunity to offer a wry quip to this clever man. She grins lopsidedly instead and holds onto him a little tighter.

[mdidiusfalco]

It was surprisingly easy to keep up the one-sided conversation as I walked. Every now and then I amaze myself when some previously unknown talent comes to the fore, in this case it was the ability to talk inanely for long periods of time without any sort of verbal response. However, all good things must come to an end and the more senseless babbling came to an end once the compound came into view.

"Don't get too excited now. This is about as sophisticated as it gets here, which really isn't saying much. But there is food and medicine and -most importantly- plumbing inside. Even clothing. Sort of."

[artemiodes]

She twists her head around to take a look at the building that rises out of the jungle. Heavy blocks of pitted concrete greet her gaze, a monstrosity of the modern that makes her think of the way Richard likes to talk about him home in California. What dreadful place are they? She looks back at Falco and offers an unimpressed raised eyebrow.

[mdidiusfalco]

I knew that look and knew it well. I'd had one very much like it when I first arrived and I was fairly sure I had it again as we began to go inside. "I know, I know. It's no architectural masterpiece. But just wait 'til you see what the rest of this place looks like. It's either this or barbarian huts, take your pick."

[artemiodes]

Camilla makes a sound cross between an annoyed hmph and a wry hmm - in any case, she is still unimpressed. She still has no idea where they are, though they are clearly nowhere near Vermont, and she half-wishes that her rescuer, for all his humor, would say something useful instead of rambling on. She looks at him with a question in her expression, hoping he'll divulge what answers he might have.