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

[the_marshal]

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.

Comments

[the_marshal]

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."

[gluteus]

"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."

[the_marshal]

"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?"

[gluteus]

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."

[the_marshal]

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'."

[gluteus]

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."

[the_marshal]

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.

[gluteus]

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.

[the_marshal]

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.)

[gluteus]

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."

[the_marshal]

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."

[gluteus]

"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?"

[the_marshal]

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."

[gluteus]

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."

[the_marshal]

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.

[gluteus]

"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."

[the_marshal]

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.

[gluteus]

His grin widened into something mischievous as he walked towards the stairs.

"I'm no priest. But from what I understand, they generally prefer a sacrifice of flesh."

[the_marshal]

He nearly tripped, minding Max's face (his mouth), more than the uneven cobblestones beneath his feet. He saved himself, boot scuffing over the stone, but could do nothing to stop the heat in his chest, licking up around his collar.

"...That sounds like somethin' the good folks here might frown upon," he said, coughing roughly to clear his throat of gravel. "'Spose I aught to attempt it somewhere more private like."

[gluteus]

Maximus couldn't help himself, chuckling lowly. "Perhaps," He allowed. He hadn't really thought these contraptions particularly useful until now.

Not until he suddenly could see very clear uses for it.

"I find that the quarters they've afforded us give a good deal of privacy."

He was half way up the stairs to his now.

[the_marshal]

"I have got my own room," Wyatt murmured in agreement, thoughtfully as the possibilities tumbled around in his head. He hadn't given the little devices a whole lot of credit before, but here they were, a country apart, speaking as if they were in the same room.

Maybe he aught to edit his list of things the Capitol had gotten right.

"Ain't nobody there to see but you an' me."

He slipped inbetween a pair of wooden pillars, supporting the second floor balcony of a restaurant, and moved down the sidewalk, returning to the massive building the District had provided for their quarters.

I feel so sorry for whoever is assigned to listen in on them in the capitol

[gluteus]

"Nobody but us and the gods," Maximus murmured, unable to keep the grin from his lips as he reached the top of the stairs. He really wasn't a religious man, but if they were going to keep up the ruse of sacrifices...

"I'll have to take to my own to watch, I think, if you don't mind my prying eyes."

He really couldn't help but tease.

[the_marshal]

The heavy door creaked and groaned as he pulled it open, and slammed shut behind him on a hard gust, snow dancing around him before settling and disappearing - little spots of wet on his coat and hat as it melted.

"Seems fair 'nough," Wyatt replied, catching the inside of his cheek between his teeth, trying to fight a grin as he slipped around a gaggle loitering just inside the door and headed for the stairs. "I do want'a get it right."

[gluteus]

"It's a simple enough ritual," Maximus said casually, though he was still grinning, unable to fight it with nearly Wyatt's efficiency.

"Ancient, and intuitive. I've no doubt you'll get a handle on it easily enough."

[the_marshal]

The background turned to wood, dark and paneled, the camera bouncing slightly as Wyatt moved up the stairs - at a clip faster than he'd normally take them.

"We might have to take it slow there for a bit..." He should have felt like a, a grown man, behaving like some boy barely into his peachfuzz. But Lord help him, he didn't care. "But with yer help, I should get there."