Maximus Decimus Meridius (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gluteus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-07-27 01:49 pm
gluteus) wrote in thecapitol2014-07-27 01:49 pm
Entry tags:
I could feel myself growing colder
Who| Maximus and OPEN
What| Maximus is a ball of fury and vengeance
Where| Around the tribute center, mostly in the training center
When| During and after the mini-arena
Warnings/Notes| rage, lots of rage
His metal leg clicked under him, whining with the strain. His tunic was folded down his waist, his chest bare, slick with sweat as he thrust his sword hard into the target, piercing its chest and coming out the other side. He'd been at this for hours - no, for days, in and out of the training center with barely a pause. His muscles were taut under his tanned skin, even more well defined than they'd been when he'd won his arena. He had, after all, been training nearly constantly since District 3 was destroyed.
For the most part, he kept to himself. He was still rooming with Wyatt, but they spent less and less time together, so instead when he wasn't in the training center he was either in the District 3 suites, or in the common room, where he mostly (these days) took his meals alone.
What| Maximus is a ball of fury and vengeance
Where| Around the tribute center, mostly in the training center
When| During and after the mini-arena
Warnings/Notes| rage, lots of rage
His metal leg clicked under him, whining with the strain. His tunic was folded down his waist, his chest bare, slick with sweat as he thrust his sword hard into the target, piercing its chest and coming out the other side. He'd been at this for hours - no, for days, in and out of the training center with barely a pause. His muscles were taut under his tanned skin, even more well defined than they'd been when he'd won his arena. He had, after all, been training nearly constantly since District 3 was destroyed.
For the most part, he kept to himself. He was still rooming with Wyatt, but they spent less and less time together, so instead when he wasn't in the training center he was either in the District 3 suites, or in the common room, where he mostly (these days) took his meals alone.
Whenever he saw another member of the District 3 suites, he invited them (or perhaps threatened them) to join him for training. He was absolutely determined to be in top form, and anyone he knew or had any regard for he was determined to see them in it too.
He was quieter, sterner, the easy smiles that had come when he'd regularly been seen with Wyatt had now completely disappeared.
no subject
Wyatt couldn’t point to a defining moment, could think of nothing said or done that had been the start, but he knew it had been sometime after his victory. Somewhere around the opening of the new arena, something had changed.
It had started slowly - restlessness in the night, Max pulling away in his sleep – with little worries easily soothed, but it had built steadily.
Worsened as time had gone on. It crept into every part of their lives, a quiet tension, a distance that Wyatt tried desperately to cross… only to find the way blocked at every turn.
Jokes met with vague nods, smiles with strained twitches, touches with distant responses.
He knew part of it was on the Capitol - he’d certainly seen a dramatic increase in their troubles after the destruction of Three - but he knew just as well that part of it was him. He knew he wasn’t what Max wanted him to be. What Max needed him to be.
He wasn’t a soldier, ready to follow orders. He wasn’t a gladiator, unblinking in the face of blood and death.
He wasn’t a wife, dutifully waving goodbye.
He tried to make up for it, dared to hope they might be able to overcome his shortcomings, but it only got worse. The distance only widened, Max pulling away more and more until they only time they saw each other was when the man forced himself into Wyatt’s bed at night for a few strained hours of them lying like slabs next to each other. All but strangers, sharing the same space.
Wyatt was little more than a whore, and a bad one at that.
He was little more than a shadow, slipping into the training center because he knew that was where he could find the man he still loved against everything. Slipping in, watching him for several long minutes, knowing it should have been him there with him—
And knowing he couldn’t.
Turning, he left. Left the training center, the Tower.
Left Max to those who could actually help him.