[open]

[gluteus]

Who| Maximus and OPEN
What| Maximus just wandering around, basically this is for new CR and ongoing CR and whatever else happens to fall in here. Not really plot specific, just a needed space for some threads.
Where| District 3 suites, Training Centre, the Park, or the Speakeasy
When| Post Wesker's win
Warnings/Notes| Nothing planned that way! Will edit if it comes up.


Maximus did not enjoy the downtime in the Capitol.

It wasn't that he particularly enjoyed the Arenas, either, but being in the Arena was at least vaguely familiar. Survival. Death. It was a cycle he knew and understood.

Unlike the politics. Unlike the gossip and the glamour and the giggling behind hands. Unlike the Avoxes that found their way into his rooms, unlike the women that threw themselves upon him in the street.

He spent almost all of his time either in his suites, training, meandering the park, or looking for Wyatt in the speakeasy. He actively wanted to learn more about his fellow tributes, but did that more by listening and observing than by approaching. He wanted to learn their strength of character. Wanted to know how, deep inside themselves, they felt about their adoptive city and the games that they were forced to compete in.

And the best way to learn that, however slowly it took, was to watch. And to wait.

Eventually everyone laid themselves open.

Comments

[polyturtle]

Donatello Hamato was where he usually was when he wasn't at the spa, taking advantage of the cheap weekday rates: he was training. Still trying to get a handle on those throwing knives. He was getting slightly better at them with each passing day - now, he was actually hitting the targets all the time.

He wasn't sure whether to feel good or horrible about it. It was one more weapon he knew how to kill with. One more way someone could die by his hand. He hated it. But Don knew he couldn't not continue to train, lest the Capitol become suspicious him and his strategy. If they weren't already.

Finally, he took a break, sheathing his knives and sitting down near a set of dumbbells. He began to drink water, letting the coolness quench his thirst.

[gluteus]

He stepped over to Donatello almost as soon as he saw him. He remembered the knife, remembered Donatello going off to his death. He hadn't watched. But he'd seen heard the canon and seen the light in the sky and he'd known it was done.

He hadn't gone back for the knife.

"Donatello." Half to say hello, half to announce his presence.

[polyturtle]

"...Maximus." Don smiled as he looked up to see his ally. "Have you come to train? as well?"

And, perhaps, to talk. He didn't mind it.

[gluteus]

"Of course." He walked over, glancing at the array of weaponry on the table. He wasn't much one for conversation, but there was something oddly comforting about the fact that Donatello was still here, when Morrigan and Javert weren't.

"Preparing for the next arena?"

[polyturtle]

"I am." Don nodded. "Its...most of what I can do at the moment. Can't tinker too much without causing problems, so I've got training to fall back on for a focus."

He'd prefer tinkering any day over this. Even Master Splinter would probably tell him to cool it - he'd been in the Training Center nearly every day since the end of this Arena.

[gluteus]

"Tinker?" He asks, an eyebrow raised, unfamiliar with the word.

He leans over to pick up a throwing knife.

[polyturtle]

"Yeah." Though it took him a second to realize that maybe the gladiator from ancient Rome might not know what that means. "Building and fixing machines and infrastructure. Conducting experiments. Things like that."

[gluteus]

"Is that what you do, when you are home?" Maximus asks, the smile sliding onto his face. When he thought of machines he thought of war machines - giant trebuchets and catapults and scorpions. Rome was a world of machinery, and most of it for war. "I would have thought such talents could still be used, here."

[polyturtle]

"Yeah, though they seem not to care much at all about it." Don shrugged, though upon looking close Maximus could see the troubled furrow of the brow. "They only really focus on my ability to fight."

[gluteus]

Maximus looked thoughtful for a moment, crossing his arms and leaning back as he watched Don. After a moment, he spoke.

"Is there not a way you could petition? I was told that they were sometimes interested in taking gladiators and placing them in other positions in the capitol." Not that he'd heard of anyone actually managing it, and not that he would ever be eligible for it himself. One of his stylists had mentioned it offhandedly as a joke.

You're so suited for this, Maximus, it's the only thing you know, isn't it?

It wasn't a fact he had much recourse to argue.

[polyturtle]

"I have heard of it," Don clasped his hands with a sigh. "Draco tried to petition for a release, but he somehow died before his petition went through."

[gluteus]

Maximus frowned, his brows knitting. "He didn't return from the Arena? Or did he die another way?"

[polyturtle]

"He didn't return from the Arena," Don replied. "No one's entirely sure why."