thecapitol | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who| Everyone, pretty much. Particularly Secret Santa people and those Creuntus is fucking with.
What| Holiday times!
Where| The Tribute Training center
When| The whole week, but Creuntus' gifts arrive today.
Warnings/Notes| none atm. Please add any in thread headers. Also, for secret santa, if you are the giver start a thread with your giftee's name (unless you two have worked something else out between you). You can use the District threads below, or choose a different setting of your own.

Every floor public space is dripping with holiday decorations.

The decorations are themed, ridiculously so. Every surface is covered, and a table sits proudly full of holiday treats and spirits, kept stocked constantly by the avoxes. Cheerful music plays softly throughout the whole building, though luckily for everyone the Capitol doesn't really know what Christmas carols are.

Those with secret santa's have a cheery, passive-aggressive note reminding them not to disappoint anyone and ruin their holiday.

Those that have expressed a want for some object from home will find a box on their bed sometime during the day, with a merry holiday greeting from Cruentus. Inside they will find the object of their desire, or something similar, crafted from their words.

In blown glass. Pretty, decorative, utterly useless.

Bert's guns, Punchy's goggles, Sigma's music box, Maximus' leg, Mindy's knife, Terezi's dragon cane...on and on, as many gifts as Creuntus could find out. Those that were with them when they were pulled are more perfect replicas, those that they have just described obviously have an artistic touch to them.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Jus' a little," Wyatt promised, turning to head across the lobby, leading the way through the doors and out into the evening cold. "An' it'll be worth it."

He hoped.

In the face of Max's gift, he could admit a little worry - to himself if not aloud.

It was snowing outside, light drifting flakes that dotted the brim of his hat and dusted across his shoulders. The streets were quiet, nearly empty as they headed away from the Tower.

Maximus was content to walk beside Wyatt in silence, and for once, in the capitol, it was nearly silent - the snow helping to dull any far off sounds and the streets so barren. He carefully kept his hands to himself lest they start wandering in Wyatt's direction again, and he mused thoughtfully to himself over just what the man was giving him, to require this journey.

He didn't care break the silence, however, content to listen to the gentle pad and crinkle of their feet against newly fallen snow, and the steady beat of his blood in his veins.

As Wyatt had promised, it really wasn't far, the Capitol perhaps seeing the wisdom in keeping them close at hand as often as they were used.

After a few blocks, Wyatt slowed, and began to lead them down an avenue toward a grand building. A big place, amidst a field of what would be green, if it weren't currently hidden beneath the snow. Just visible behind one distant corner was a white wooden fence stretching off along the property.

"Inside," he told Max, looking over at the man with a small, mischievous grin.

Maximus arched an eyebrow, having never been to this place before and having not given it any thought what-so-ever in passing.

"Are you going to tell me what it is?" Maximus asked as he pushed open the doors and stepped inside. "Or am I just going to have to see for myself?"

Wyatt tsked, tongue clucking softly.

"An' spoil the surprise when yer nearly there?" he asked, following him inside, knocking his boots against the jam to shake off the worst of the snow. "What's the fun in that?"

Inside, the entrance was small, a desk, a few chairs - this was was a place of business first, rarely seen by anyone but those whose services were required. One of the many unseen hands that greased the wheels of the Capitol's great machine.

In the air was a faint, sweet smell, grain and hay. Somewhere behind one of the doors off to the side was a muffled sound, a soft whinny.

Behind the desk, a bored looking man eyed them as they entered, narrowing his eyes at Max and then blowing out a breath as Wyatt appeared behind him.

Apparently he'd been waiting for their arrival.

"About time, clock's ticking, you know."

Maximus knew that sound.

He knew it as well as he knew the sound of his own voice. His head turned sharply towards the sound but he saw nothing but the dreary hall and the sturdy doors. Even if he swore he could smell...

"Is this a stable?" He asked, incredulously.

Before Wyatt could answer, the man was speaking up again.

"Through the door, straight down to number 8, gear's all there. Ring's at the end of the hall on the left."

He tapped a box on the desktop and the time appeared, floating in the air in cool green numbers.

"Two hours, then it needs to be back where you found it."

Wyatt lifted a hand, nodding in understanding, and moved toward the door, pulling it open and gesturing for Max to move through to the stable first.

"After you, Max," he offered with a smile.

It didn't look anything like any stable he'd ever known but he wasn't about to complain - giving Wyatt a slightly questioning look before following the directions through the doors.

It was a stable - a large stable - where they kept all the horses for the tribute parades... He drew in a breath and made straight for number eight, where a large, sturdy horse stood, snorting gently. It was a rich, deep brown - nearly black - and Maximus stepped up to the beast, sure and careful, and reached out to stroke its nose.

Wyatt slowed, smiling to himself, as he led Max take the lead.

The idea had come to him from a number of places: Ellie, lamenting that the horses at the zoo weren't rideable; Max himself, asking for a quiet afternoon; and Wyatt's escort, pulling the strings after Wyatt had gone to him, asking after stables in the City.

An odd request, for sure, and it had cost him a promise to attend the birthday party for the son of the man they'd just met. Apparently the boy was quite the fan.

Wyatt would hate every minute of it, but to be able to give this gift to Max, entirely worth it.

"I know it ain't an afternoon," he mused, coming up beside Max at the stall door. "But for the next two hours, he's all yers. Merry Christmas, Max."

A few steps away, a saddle sat on the back of a saddle-horse. On the wall a bridle hung from a shining metal hook. On the next hook was a bag, brushes and combs and a shoepick.

Ready and waiting.

Maximus smiled warmly, obviously pleased and not trying to hide it.

"Thank you, Wyatt," he said, utterly earnest, as he turned from the horse. He glanced down through the stable, but they were alone. Or, as alone as they could get, here in the capitol. So he didn't keep himself from expressing just how much the gift meant to him.

Placing a hand on either of Wyatt's shoulders, he drew him into a deep kiss.

"Are you to ride with me?" He murmured lowly.

He lingered for as long as he dared, happy to pretend just a moment that it was just them, that there wasn't another world waiting for them just outside the doors, then, touching his forehead to Max's, he leaned back.

"There's nobody else I'd rather ride with," Wyatt told him, reaching up to rub his rough fingers along the vee of short hair at the back of Max's neck. He grinned, wide and fond. "Now go on, two hours are all ya got an' they'll be gone before ya know it."

Maximus smiled back but was keen not to waste the precious gift.

A lifetime in the army and as a calvary man was made very apparent as he brushed the horse down and prepared for the ride. He was efficient but thorough, and murmured to the creature in a low voice - inaudible, and in Latin. He threw the blanket carefully over it's back, saw to the reins with detailed attention. When he turned to the saddle, however, he paused - fingers lingering over the stirrups with a slightly confused look.

"What are these?" He asked, looking back at Wyatt, for stirrups had yet to be invented.

Wyatt was content to watch, leaning against the outside of the stall, giving Max his time and space, a fond, distant smile on his face as the man worked. Pleased, in every sense of the word.

It wasn't until Max spoke to him that he did, pushing off the wood to join him in the stall.

"Stirrups," he said, reaching out, fingers brushing Max's as he rubbed the leather ring between his fore-finger and thumb. "Ya put yer boots in here, helps with the mount, an' the ride. It keeps ya stable an' it's easier to control the animal."

Letting go of the stirrup, he reached past Max to check the cinch, making sure it was firm under the animal's barrel. Then he stepped back, nodding for Max to climb on.

"Mount up, an' I'll show ya."

"I think I can manage," Maximus mused, looking a little incredulous at their necessity, but he let Wyatt check over the saddle before he did as asked and mounted the horse with one fluid, well-practiced movement. His feet found the stirrups, easy enough, and he was vaguely surprised at how natural the placement was.

He didn't need them, of course, but it was interesting that they'd been developed between his time and Wyatt.

He leaned down, grazing a rough palm over the the horse's thick neck, and breathed in deeply as he smiled.

"He is a beautiful creature, Wyatt." He leaned over and held out an arm. "Join me?"

He checked the stirrups, making sure Max was set properly, before looking up. Taking Max's arm and swinging up behind him, the horse's wide rump providing seat enough.

"Down the hall," he murmured, a soft rumbling reminder from behind Max's ear as a hand found his hip. "On the left."

The horse whinnied a complaint at the extra burden, but it was obviously a horse accustomed to a good deal of weight so Maximus did not put any stock into it. He waited until Wyatt was secure before clicking under his breath and nudging the horse forward, taking it in an even walk down to the end of the hall.

He was unsure what to expect - and certainly was not expecting the doors to open into a very large enclosed riding area - with a dirt floor and high vaulted ceiling.

He moved with the horse as if it was an extension of himself, and grinned back at Wyatt.

"Hold on," He said, before nudging the horse into a trot.

It smelled of freshly turned earth and sweat, animal and human. The horse's head tossed and Wyatt met Max's grin with a wide one of his own. His hand moving from the man's hip to hook his fingers in the wide, leather belt, a sturdy handhold, as the horse's pace picked up.

"Show 'em how it's done, Max."

He rode.

He rode hard.

It had been so long that he nearly lost himself in the feeling - the horse's hooves digging hard into the earth with each foot fall, the thunder around them as it took from trot to canter to a gallop. He lost all sense of time and space, melding with the ride and throwing himself into it fully, Wyatt's hands gripping at his sides.

He'd missed it, more than he'd realized. It a simple thing, a man and a horse, but it had been such a big part of his life, and of Max's. This didn't fix anything, didn't replace anything the Capitol had taken from them, but for a while, for those few short hours, it was a little easier.

He might have forgotten the deal completely, been happy to let them stay there until someone came to drag them out, but there was a clock on the wall and eventually, one of the times they passed it, he patted at Max's chest and tugged firmly on his tunic to get him to slow.

"Sorry, Max," he told him as the thunder of hooves softened enough for him to be heard over. "But time's jus' 'bout up."

Maximus let out a long sigh but slowly eased the horse down into a trot, then to a stop.

"Then we'd best let him relax and clean up," He murmured lowly as he turned the creature's head back around and headed into the stables. He let Wyatt dismount first, before slipping to the ground alongside him.

"Thank you, Wyatt. I'm afraid your gift far outstrips mine - I did not think deeply enough, I believe."

"Max, don't."

Wyatt reached out as Max slipped down beside him, a hand slipping around the back of Max's neck to pull him close.

"Don't say that. You've given me more than ya know." His thumb stroked over Max's jaw, rubbing across the rough dark hair. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Max's. A lingering kiss there in the relative privacy of the stall. "There's nothin' more that I want for than when I've got right here, right now."

He let out a low sound but took the kiss gladly, turning his head to do do so.

"Still." He said after their lips had parted. "Thank you."

He slowly set to work, removing the saddle and the blanket, brushing down the horse and giving it something to drink and a small snack. He was just finishing up when the voice came down the hall to yell at them that their time was up.

Wyatt gave the horse a pat goodbye, one last brush of his palm over the furred neck, then turned out of the stall, waiting for Max before he closed the gate and latched it once more.

He shook it once, to make it sure it had closed properly, then fell in beside Max as they started back down the hall.

"Back to the Tower then?" he asked softly, slanting Max a look, mustache twitching. "We can probably find some place on the way to get those candles'a yers."

Maximus looked back a little longingly into the stable as they left, and braced himself for the cold air as they stepped outside.

"No need, Wyatt. I will be warm enough, I think, somehow," he said with a small smile. "What need of candles could this place ever have?"

"Them, not at all," he chuckled, "but us? I can think of a use er two."

He looked back when Max did, guessing easily what Max was thinking.

"...We can see 'bout comin' back, Max. I don't expect they're goin' anywhere."

Not so long as they were there, not so long as the games continued.

Edited 2013-12-26 20:00 (UTC)