thecapitol | (no subject)

Who| Maximus and YOU, OPEN for Mingling - All District 3 will be 'Asked' to attend, but everyone else is welcome
What| Come get Combat Training from the Cyborg Gladiator
Where| The Training Center
When| Two days after the Motorcycle Races
Warnings/Notes| Nothing so far! Maybe violence, but nothing with gore since it's just training weapons.

Maximus was a regular in the training center, but today was different. Today he had set up a good portion of the hall exactly as he wanted it - a large training mat (one of the better inventions in the last few millenia), a large rack of swords, shields, and spears. He couldn't find pilla, but spears would do well enough. The day before, he'd gone around to each of the rooms in district 3 and told them to report to the training center the next day, or face consequences. He also, however, asked Wyatt to attend, and mentioned it to anyone else he thought could use some training.

It didn't really matter who showed up, he would treat them all the same.

It took more than a day to make a soldier, but perhaps at least he could begin to get some of the tributes thinking like one.

Or maybe they would start seeing the benefit of working together.

His Sabertooth Tiger, Ferox, prowled around the edge of the training mat, watching the tributes as if one of them might make a good dinner, and occasionally coming up to rub its large head against Maximus' prosthetic leg.

[OOC note: Each tribute will be greeted, have a rough assessment of their skills taken, and then given a series of instructions for training. Trainees of a similar level will be grouped together, for team activities. Feel free to either tag in for the greeting/assessment, or create an open post for other people to tag you for mutual training.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ian wasn't terribly enthusiastic about coming to the training session. He wasn't planning on doing anything in the arenas, but he couldn't say that, and it wasn't as if he had anything better to do.

So he'd come along, cooperated, and ended up on a mat holding a spear and wondering if it was anything like a dart to throw.

He didn't have to be enthusiastic about it, he simply had to come, and once he did Maximus set him up. He wandered over when he saw that Ian looked particularly lost, an amused smile coming to his lips.

"I would be on you in seconds, if I saw you looking so lost on the battlefield," He teased lowly.

"If I was on a battlefield I'd have just thrown it and hoped for the best by now. I'd prefer to look stupid than dead," Ian said, grinning.

But he turned serious as he said, "I know how to throw darts, we used to play in the pub. But a spear is a bit bigger."

Maximus had no idea what a dart was, even if he at least aware of what a pub might be. But he took the meaning from the context easily enough. A game played near alcohol was unlikely to use spears.

At least in this day and age.

"I am sure it is the same concept. You aim to hit."

"All right." He gave it a go, holding the spear up. Which he definitely couldn't hold in the same way as a dart, given that it was much longer and heavier.

He was finding it was best not to hold it up there for too long, so he gave a throw. It landed short of the target, and quite a long way short at that.

"This is heavier than I'm used to," Ian admitted. He didn't think that doing the same thing again, but aiming further would make much difference.

He did his best not to chuckle, though the smile flickered on his lips.

"Mm, not exactly a pub sport," He agreed. "You'll grow accustomed to it. You must feel the weight, find the balance, and throw up. The weight of the spear will drag it down - you must account for the arc of its flight."

"Would have to be a very big pub if it was," Ian said, smiling. He retrieved the spear and walked back to throw it again.

"So it's just physics." He hefted the spear and threw it higher. This time it arced across the room and landed further away. Not that much further, but at least it was further than he could run at someone and spear them without throwing.

Maximus had no idea what the term physics meant - the concept not being a concrete one until over a thousand years after his death. So he looked vaguely confused for a moment, trying to parse it.

"It is just sense," He said finally, giving up.

"That's pretty much what physics is," he said, smiling over at Maximus. "And practise." Also known as considering angles and gravity. He picked up another spear and when he threw it it landed a little further than the previous one had. "I'll get the hang of it in the end."

"I'm sure you will," Maximus agreed, smiling back warmly.

"It is all of it practice. No man is born knowing how to throw a spear."

"No," he agreed. "Thank you for showing me. At least I won't be quite so terrible if I ever have to use one."

"Keep up the practice and you may even be better than 'quite so terrible'," Maximus teased him with a wry smile.

"I'll leave you to your training. If you have any further need of me, do not hesitate to ask."