The Gym, Wednesday Morning

[endsthegame]

A week of roaming had left Ender wanting for the relative comfort of routine, and so on Wednesday morning, he found himself back at the gym. He remembered his previous exercise programs, had adapted them the previous day to fit his current situation.

'Fit' really was the word. He took to his stretches before he started anything heavier.

[ open like a gym, kids ]

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[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

Cal himself had a bit of a routine. Others might call it an obsession, but he would casually disagree. He gave that other kid a lift of his chin in greeting before setting to his warm up of stretching.

[endsthegame]

That was a face he recognised; slowly, Ender was building up some sense of familiarity. A visual sense, at least, and it would help. "Morning," he greeted, without pausing his routine, and said nothing else.

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

"Morning," Cal greeted back, loosening his muscles with his deep, flexible stretches. While his attention was in the movements, a part of his brain was busy trying to remember the other guy's name. He knew he had heard it, but it had been a while, it felt, and there'd been a lot of other names in between them.

"Sorry," he finally said, giving into the failure of his recollection. "I know we've met, but I can't remember your name."

[endsthegame]

"Ender," Ender provided, with some ease. The name didn't have any power here, and he was gladly adapting to the idea. He didn't stop his movements, carefully loosening muscles he'd be putting to good use later. "And you're Cal."

That was easy. He hadn't spoken to a lot of people.

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

Cal's sideways grin was a little embarrassed, a little regretful. "Yeah," he said, reaching up and dropping an arm behind his head, reaching toward his back. "Cal."

So much for maintaining a low profile. Or maybe Ender just had a decent memory. He pressed lightly on his elbow, deepening the arm stretch, and then released it, shaking it out, switching to the other arm before he asked, "Settling in okay?"

[endsthegame]

"Just in case you'd forgotten," Ender added, with a hint of dry humor to his tone. He stretched his arm up, then pressed it against his body with the other before he answered the question. "I'm settling in fine," he said, "It's not a big school."

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

Cal rolled his eyes at the joke; har-har, real funny, kid. Any sort of embarrassment he might have felt for not remember Ender's name evaporated pretty soundly, and he shook his head slightly. He wasn't really offended, anyway, and had a bit of his own joke to respond back with, sharpening his grin.

"The size," he said, "isn't the issue."

And if Ender thought it was, then Cal wondered what sort of rock he had been hiding under, but at least that finally settled his issue on why all the older kids felt it necessary to constantly remind newbies of the weirdness.

[endsthegame]

He didn't feel smug for his quick disarming of the tension-- Ender felt a mild kind of apathetic relief, because it didn't matter, but at least Cal felt no animosity towards him. Embarrassment could turn to hatred too quickly, and Ender didn't feel like arguing.

"I thought singing rats, moving islands and talking parrots were normal everywhere," he said, disconnectedly at ease with the humor that seemed to be a part of this island's culture, "Small schools are more of a shock."

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

"Talking parrots," Cal said, swinging his arms down to his side and shaking them out before drifting over to the treadmill, "sure. Moving island? Okay, yeah. Plate tectonics, so true on a technicality. But singing rats?"

He turned the treadmill on, a slow pace with the moving trail whining as it started up, and shot Ender a very dubious look. Then he hopped on, right into the slow jog.

[endsthegame]

Loosening some of the muscles in his shoulders, Ender's attention skipped past the treadmill to the bikes, as it usually did: a good start to his training, and so he made a beeline for it.

"Singing rats," he confirmed, "dressed like pirates."

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

"Never a dull day," Cal said with a grin. "If it feels that way, obviously you haven't gone outside."

[endsthegame]

"I've gone outside," Ender shot back, as he made his usual adjustments to the exercise bike before settling in the seat. "It's duller there."

But dull was fine with him. For the time being.

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

Cal snorted a little, shaking his head. He wondered if he was this obnoxious set on apathy when he first got here, too. The temptation to regale Ender with stories of ponies and fluttery wings was strong, but, at the same time, he remembered being in Ender's spot and only being driven to annoyance by all the constant ascertains of oddity around here, so he, amused, just shook his head and kept jogging, amd just left it at the same observation he'd gotten so often.

"You'll do fine here." Not that he figured he'd need or want the assurance.

[endsthegame]

Ender wasn't sure why he was setting himself up to be arrogant, haughty and aloof; people would be waiting to see him fall, and he didn't want to deal with that right now. "Thanks," was what he said, and it was as honest as he was. "I'm finding my way around."