thecapitol | I don't like walking around this old and empty house.

Entry tags:

I don't like walking around this old and empty house.

WHO| Wyatt and Semi-OTA (Open physically to anyone with him in District 10, with some preset threads for Howard and Max in the comments.)
WHAT| Bb gets with the times.
WHERE| District 10
WHEN| A day or two after arriving in the Districts.
Warnings/Notes| Some mild swearing perhaps? Edit: Two clueless gents flirting over the skype equivalent below. You are warned. Edit edit: It went a bit beyond flirting. Gird yourself.

Wyatt had made a promise to Howard, and he was determined to keep it. After settling in as best as he could in their temporary housing, he dug out his communicator and set about trying to get the thing to work.

At one of the heavy, thick-cut tables in the dining room, he moved his fingers over the keys just as he remembered watching Howard do -- and somehow set off a bell, a shrill alarm that cut through the quiet of the late morning like a knife through warm butter. Quickly, he clapped his hands over it and stabbed another button, managing to silence it out of sheer luck.

Glancing around, he nodded in apology to those at the nearest tables - trying to ignore the heat threatening to curl around the back of his neck - and tried again.

That time he nearly blinded himself.

Wiping the bright flash from his eyes, cursing lowly to himself, he dropped the device on the table and leaned back in his chair in defeat.

Time to consider a re-approach.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Wyatt chuckled softly, listening to Max's description of it. Could imagine a city, precise and neat, appealing to man's strict military nature.

"Enjoyin' yerself, General?" he teased gently, smiling into the camera as it turned back to Max's face. "Sorry to report it ain't as fancy as all that here... but I think ya'd like it, given a chance."

He moved, camera bouncing slightly as he rounded the corner he'd tucked himself behind, and turned the communicator out toward the street. It was nearly empty, as the sky began to spit snow, a few hardy souls were hustling down the sidewalks, heads down against the cold. The buildings were mismatched, some wood, some stone, but all sturdy and strong.

A horse was led by, hooves clopping sharply against the street as it and its owner headed back for the barn beside the massive lodge - the biggest building in sight.

"All ranchers here, an' farmers." The camera swung back on Wyatt's face. "I wish ya couldn't seen the country we came through. Open land, as far as the eye could see."

Those rolling plains, not so different. Familiar, despite all the years.

"I'd rather be there with you," Maximus said, and he meant it, on more than one level. He bent over the little screen, squinting to get a good look at what he was shown, but in honesty it was as foreign to him as this city was. A part of him resigned himself to never know the hills of his old country again.

"We saw some farmland as we went by," Maximus said, feeling winter's chill despite being in an area significantly warmer than Wyatt's. "I've never been on such a vessel - Rome would have conquered the world with such things. I assume that is how the Capitol did so."

Wyatt's grin softened, turning fond and warm - despite the chill of the air around him. He touched the screen again, a soft brush of his thumb.

He'd have given just about anything to have Max there with him... but with Howard's warning about the everything he said being public echoing in his ears, he forced himself to choke down the words.

"The trains, ya mean?" he asked instead. "We had 'em in my time. A might different, I'll grant ya--" slower, nosier, the ride nowhere as smooth, "-but it's a change I think I can find myself supportin'."

Bound to be one, he supposed.

"Was it a long trip for ya? Took us most of the day to get here."

"Yes, the trains," He said, finally remembering the word. "They had them in your time as well?" Maximus said, honestly surprised.

Sometimes he forgot just how far apart their worlds had been.

He nodded to the question. "A full day. We slept on the train. First proper bed I've had since I came here," he added with a slight smirk.

Wyatt laughed at that, camera shaking gently as the sound rumbled through him. "'Spose it would be easier on the mighty Victor. Couldn't imagine none of yer tributes darin' to breathe sideways, much less fightin' ya for a bed."

Leaning back against the wall, he brushed a small dusting of snow from his mustache.

"When I was younger, my country joined the seas together by rail. One long, unbroken route of steel, runnin' across the whole country, from the Atlantic to the Pacific. It wasn't a quick a ride as these that the Capitol has, er even as nice, but it was easier than anythin' that came before." He said knowingly, remembering well the trip his family had taken as a boy, that long, hot, dusty wagon train to the west.

"Mm, you'd be surprised," Maximus said, thinking of Cuthbert and his pile of blankets.

He listened, though, as Wyatt spoke of home, and he tried to think of Rome with the same power. The ability to travel right from the heart of the empire to the German border in a day, maybe two...?

It was nearly impossible. (And nearly terrifying.)

"If you had told me of such a thing before I had come here, I would have laughed. Now... Now I see just how the might of Rome is dwarfed."

And it saddened him.

Wyatt's smile faded, his brow creasing as Max quite, obviously troubled.

They both mourned the homes they had lost, but the bones of Wyatt's were still here. He could still see the shadow of the United States in the shape of Paneam. ...Max didn't even have that.

Wyatt could only imagine what it felt like, and even that he doubted was sufficient.

"The Empire fell," Wyatt murmured, watching his face, strangely textured in the feed, "but Rome lived on, Max. She was still there, in my time, and to tell ya the truth the United States shaped herself after it in a lot'a ways. We even had the same symbol."

He glanced around him, at the modern slice of the old west. Of the old world.

"We never thought they'd let us come out here to the Districts, but it happened. Maybe one day we'll get a chance to go even further."

To see if Rome was still out there, some version of it. Ariadne had believed France still existed, why not Rome?

"Mm, one day," Maximus said, with no real urge to continue that particular conversation.

He was not sure he would like to gaze upon the bones of Rome's corpse.

He cleared his throat and forced a smile. "Well. No matter. Tell me, have you had a lavish welcome?"

Wyatt frowned as Max's face twisted into some play of a smile, but he wasn't sure how ease his upset. Wasn't certain if apologizing for bringing it up to begin with wouldn't just make it worse.

So he let Max change the subject, shrugging noncommittally at the question.

"Storm's brewin' so I understand that's kept a lot of folks away, but the one's I've met seem decent enough lot. ...One of 'em brought some jerky for us, I saved ya some."

Edited 2014-01-12 22:15 (UTC)

"Jerky?" Maximus said, the word not translating into Latin for him, but all too happy to be allowed to change the subject.

"I've had no similar gifts - they seem happy enough to have us here but have their own complicated lives, I think. Too busy to really concern themselves with our presence."

"It's meat," Wyatt explained with a small smile. "Small bits of it, seasoned an' dried."

He'd made doubly sure now that he saved some to give to Max once they were back in the Capitol.

His brow furrowed slightly.

"Ya had to a chance to speak to any of 'em?"

Maximus nodded. "A few have thanked me, for keeping their honour in the games. But if I ask what they do here, they mostly tell me that I wouldn't understand - and I can't entirely disagree. I doubt I would, if they build machines."

He gave a small bemused look. "Unless, for some reason, they are still building trebuchets. That, I would understand."

Trebuchets. Wyatt's mouth twitched. While he'd never seen one himself, he knew of them.

A big brother of sorts to the cannon.

"I expect if they do, they're wise enough to keep 'em out'a yer sight," he teased gently. "It'd be askin' for a lickin'."

Maximus chuckled. "Somehow I think they might find them old fashioned, but I could show them a thing or too, certainly."

He smiled fondly at the screen, wiping it clear as a snowflake fell on it.

"They'd be wise to avoid it, in truth. I've no doubt a trebuchet could take down one of their flying contraptions, if aimed true."

He could see it, an image in his mind as clear as crystal - Max at the head of the charge, his armor returned, the steel of his sword flashing....

His heart thumped, the muscles low in his gut tightening fast as heat curled through him despite the chill of the air around him.

"If anyone could, I've no doubts it'd be you, Max," he smiled back, coughing slightly as he tried to clear his voice of the sudden rough turn it'd taken.

He raised an eyebrow - recognized (and adored) that little rough turn of Wyatt's voice, no matter how well the man tried to hide it.

"Have that much faith in my ballistics, do you?" He teased quietly.

He didn't color. The slight flush creeping up from under his collar was a trick of the camera - a shift in the clouds overhead.

The flash of warmth in his eyes was nothing more than snow, blowing across the skin.

(How he lived for that smile, for that gentle shift in Max's voice as he joked and laughed and loved.)

"Always, General." His mouth worked, wrestling with his grin. "I've seen ya in action. I'm well aware what yer capable of."

(He still dreamed of it. Max riding at his side on the endless, wild plains. The man at his back - their faith complete - as a faceless enemy closed in.)

Maximus chuckled lowly, still looking incredibly fond, and with a pang realised just how much he missed the man. He gently rubbed his thumb against the screen again.

"You have yet to see my limits," Maximus said, still teasing, though it was impossible to remove the fondness from his voice. "Perhaps I will have to demonstrate more thoroughly back in the Capitol."

Wyatt's eyebrows jumped, teeth flashing handsomely as he laughed - a warm, rumbling chuckle. His thumb touched the screen in turn, chasing the stroke of the other man's - lingering when they met.

"That sounds an awful lot like a challenge," he murmured. "Ya best be careful what ya wish for."

"I know exactly what I'm wishing for," Maximus said, the smile turning rueful, and he wished for a moment that he was inside, in his room, instead of out here in the open. He quietly started making his way back to his lodging.

"Have you ever known me to back down from a challenge?"

His mind turned over the possibilities of Max's wishes, wondered heatedly if they were the same as his own. (Thoughts of miles crossed, of warm skin, a low rumbling laugh in his ear....)

His Adam's Apple lurched, a noticeable bob in his throat as he swallowed.

"Big talk for a man a few thousand miles away," he teased, the drawl rough and thick. "I bet you'll be singin' a different tune once we're back."

His smile only widened, slowly becoming a grin, even as the biting wind whipped around him.

"Are you doubting my patience? Or my consistency?" Maximus asked, an eyebrow arched high even as a snowflake caught in it.

"I can wait a very long time to prove it, Wyatt. But prove it I will."

Wyatt's head ducked, but the dark brim of his hat wasn't quite enough to hide the way he grinned. The way he locked his lower lip before looking back up into the camera.

"Not too long, I hope," he admitted, eyes glinting playfully down at the lens.

"Well, for that I'm afraid you'll have to appeal to the gods," Maximus teased.

He finally reached the building in which they were housed, pushed open the doors and stepped into the lobby, still grinning down at his screen.

"Pleas of that nature usually require sacrifice."

He watched the scenery change behind Max, the image bopping slightly as the man moved and unconsciously, he began to drift. Slipping around the corner and back out on the street, bracing against the wind as he walked.

"Yer the expert," he replied. "Ya got somethin' in mind?"

Truth told, there was very little that he wouldn't be willing to give in Max's name.

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