People In Glass Houses...

[neclectus]

Who | Timaeus Nadir and guests
What | Timaeus is hosting a picnic get-together/catch-up.
Where | The picnic will be taking place in the Tropical Habitat Dome.
When| We'll be using a bit of wibbly time so that people who want to attend can.
Warnings/Notes| None as of yet.

(This is an opportunity for me to make some new CR as well as catch up with ongoing relationships, but I also want to encourage tagging around between characters! Feel free to do whatever you like in the setting with whoever you like! Also I will be backtagging this so don't feel you've missed the boat if you haven't tagged in immediately <3)

Timaeus certainly knew how to organise a gathering- even if it wasn't an outrageously opulent celebration to be held on one of his own yachts. This one was to be held under the expansive dome of the Tropical Habitat- the entire location rented out for the day to Timaeus and his guests, a loosely private affair- formal invitations as such hadn't been extended, but those welcome knew they were. Naturally, all tributes and victors were included in this group.

The Dome was a beautiful piece of architecture in itself, though antiquated when compared with the technology used for the Arenas. Rather than invisible forcefields, the climate of the interior was separated from the outside by elaborately curving steel and glass. Inside, tropical plants of all types thrived- there was a still, green pond and, deeper inside, a cascading waterfall. Butterflies in hundreds of colours, sizes and shapes flitted about, tropical birds swooped between the trees, brightly coloured fish darted in the water.
Blankets and cushions had been scattered in the main clearing with hampers of food, but there was plenty of space for the guests to break away from the gathering if they so desired- the dome was full of winding paths through the greenery- some even climbing around the trunks of the largest trees and leading to viewing platforms above. In a temporary gazebo in the clearing, a string quartet played music that wasn't quite the classical pieces Tributes were familiar with. 

Timaeus himself seemed in a brighter mood than he had been for months, more than happy to make conversation with anyone who approached him- though he was certainly keeping an eye open for particular individuals. Some that he'd met, some that he'd lost and had returned to him, and others still that he had yet to meet.

Comments

[gluteus]

He had difficulty understanding all of it (the joke about 'glad' simply went straight over his head), but the last questions he was pretty sure he understood, and they caused him to frown.

"I am not sure they see the wisdom in it," He admitted gruffly. "Most place very different significance on death than there was in my time, and so many of the men and women I fought with and against in my first arena here have long since disappeared. But I hope some of them took my words to heard."

[carnagecarnival]

He looks mildly disappointed by that answer. He is, of course, naturally. But not really surprised. He purses his lips.

He says, "A small hope was up and had. GOT TO HAVING A MOTHERFUCKING HOPE TO PERSIST ON. Message rung true off victorious tongue. RUNG TRUE AND HE HAD HOPED WAS HEARD. Let thine teachings be writ, was thought, and so this brother did wonder at what all secrets were held by thee. WHAT ALL SECRETS HE COULD SO FIND IN INSPIRING AFTERS. Ownself was to be a preacher, you see. WOULD MAKE FOR SOMETHING MORE, IT BEING HEARD. But you ain't hiding naught, only another with wizened pan and ears to the word, but again surrounded by none of likeness. A SHAME." He sighs and shakes his head.

"As of yet, given no manner of introductory. NO MOTHERFUCKING MANNER OF IT IN FAIR LIKENESS. He is the Initiate."

[gluteus]

He had no idea whether he was being insulted or not, and he smiled bemusedly.

"I am no oracle," He admitted easily enough. "If the gods have ever spoken to me, they have not said as much. I know only through what I've witnessed, and what I've lived. It is simple."

It came as no surprise, when the trolls said he was meant to be a preacher, though the word took a bit to translate. He had that air about him - not of insanity, quite, but the strangeness necessary for those that could talk to the Gods. No one could do that and not come off a little touched in the head.

"The Initiate," He repeated with a nod. "That sounds more like a title, than a name. Does your temple strip you of your name when you apprentice yourself?"

[carnagecarnival]

He likes this one, he decides. He was smarter. Clearly a soldier, and so, battle-familiar. And respectful. He grins.

"YES," He says with a nod, almost like a bow. When he lifts his head, he chuckles. "And no. ALL TROLLS WHAT ARE TO BECOME ADULT ARE TO TAKE A TITLE. Wrigglerhood names discarded and left behind, except for those what be close and in private still. HAD COUNCIL GATHERED SO AT HE COULD GAIN TITLE OF HIS OWN."

He doesn't tell about the fact he was young for it. It would be evident in his face, or lost in his height, if it even mattered at all.

"A shame gods ain't spoke for he! HE'D BE A WORTHY VESSEL, THIS MOTHERFUCKER THINKS. But he ain't apt to up and imagine he's been without notice," He muses aloud. "AN ASIDE IT UP AND IS. You are called Maximus, that motherfucking correct, brother?"

[gluteus]

He'd never known much about trolls, but it wasn't that surprising to him. After all, Maximus itself was a title more than a name - 'The Great'. He'd earned it, and he kept it.

Maximus bowed his head stiffly. "Apologies, for not introducing myself properly. I am Maximus Decimus Meridius, once Commander of the Armies of the North." He raised his head again. "Now, Mentor for District 3."

[carnagecarnival]

Maximus Decimus Meridius. That is a rude set of syllables strung together to something that simultaneously means nothing to him and sounds like something real damn impressive. Like it should mean something. The North can't possibly even be a place, it's a motherfucking direction but, despite that, he believes it.

What he doesn't believe is that clap-trap mentor hoofbeastshit. He's believed it from very few, even those he knew were from here. But maybe this one believes it, who is he to know. But even if he's just seeing nothing where there's a thing-- an actual belief and support of this as well as understanding-- after all, he's sceptical, and he wants to ask, despite the danger in asking aloud if someone thinks the capitol is worth anything other than kindling.

Instead, he says, "COMMANDER. Impressive, brother. IMPRESSIVE AND NOT A THING WHAT ALL DEEMS FIT FOR APOLOGY. No apology needed up with this. BUT HE WONDERS IF COMPARISON UP WITH WHAT ALL THAT MENTORING NOISE GETS ON CONSISTING UP FOR IT."

[gluteus]

He assumed it was a question, though he wasn't entirely certain what he was asked, he could guess.

"Everything I knew is dust and ash." He said, firmly and without question. There was no comparison to be made - he may as well be dead. "I do my duty as is given."

So of course, he hates it.

[carnagecarnival]

That stops him short. That gets everything to braking real fast. He thinks of the Helmsman, a thousand sweeps old and nothing to go back to but torture, then death, whose attitudes toward him seemed like duty at first, for what felt like the longest time. He turns his head away.

"...Understood, sir," He says, dropping rare honorific. Then he thinks, fuck it, why the motherfuck not, capitol already named him their enemy long ago. It isn't like it's not obvious he hates them. "WERE IT HIM, HE'D CAST SUCH TO HAVE THEIR TICKETS REVOKED AND DEMANDING DIGITS REMOVED. If a motherfucker had nothing but ash... he'd make for more ash." He's not this man's moirail, he's got his own. He can do as he wants, and if serving these heathens set him right, that's his choice it all is. He's pretty sure his words could be construed either as admiration or simple disagreement. He's not quite sure which he really means.

[gluteus]

Maximus gives him a tight smile. He isn't sure what tickets or digits are, but... He'd make for more ash. That, he understood.

That he understood very, very well.

(And the truth of it burned deep in his soul.)

But even now, even still, he was conscious of where he was, and of who could be listening. So even though he wished for nothing more than to burn the capitol down where it stood, he offered a low chuckle, as if to laugh off Initiate's words and the truth that lay in them. But the smile didn't reach his eyes, and he didn't blink.

"And then a man would have only more nothing. At some point he must build himself a house, too."

Before he burned it down.

[carnagecarnival]

He holds the look that Maximus gives, chin tilted up. Maybe he's imagining it, only seeing what he wants to see. It could be a mistake in the future, to trust this one. The point is, he can't tell, and that means there's something worth betting on here.

"YES, SUPPOSE TRUE. And what a... house it could make like to be. WHAT AN INTERSTING MOTHERFUCKING HIVE MIGHT IT BECOME."

He takes the gamble.

"Never was too good up on hive building, himself," He admits with a wry smile. "COULD ALL HAVE MADE AT FOR A CASTLE UP ON THE CLIFFS SOMEWHERE SURELY. Got to making shanty up on the shoreways the fuck instead. THING WAS A SHIT HIVE, GOOD FOR MOTHERFUCKING NOTHING." Except the leaving of it. He snorts, shaking his head. "And yet, it was mine."

[gluteus]

"That is what matters above all things," Maximus said, his tone quiet, and perhaps a little dark. "That the house we build is ours."

Which is why the palace of the Capitol would never be home.

[carnagecarnival]

"A CHEERS AND RIGHTEOUS MOTHERFUCKING WHOOP TO THAT, MY BROTHER," He says. He lifts his hand in mock of the gesture without a drink to do it properly with.

He decides for certain; keep note of this one. Ally potential.