Wyatt Earp (
the_marshal) wrote in
thecapitol2014-01-11 12:00 pm
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.
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?
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.

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"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."
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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."
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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?"
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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."
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"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."
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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?"
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He gave a small bemused look. "Unless, for some reason, they are still building trebuchets. That, I would understand."
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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'."
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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."
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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.
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"Have that much faith in my ballistics, do you?" He teased quietly.
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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.)
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"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."
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"That sounds an awful lot like a challenge," he murmured. "Ya best be careful what ya wish for."
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"Have you ever known me to back down from a challenge?"
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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."
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"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."
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"Not too long, I hope," he admitted, eyes glinting playfully down at the lens.
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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."
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"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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"I'm no priest. But from what I understand, they generally prefer a sacrifice of flesh."
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I feel so sorry for whoever is assigned to listen in on them in the capitol
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