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

He watches her. He knows her, of course. He knows her face. He watched as she presided over Ariadne's death.

But he is not afraid of her, and he does not falter as she steps forward.

"I think putting a leash on a beast more effectively caged otherwise is a reckless decision," He said bluntly. "Especially if you ever mean to use its teeth."

And he'd proved those teeth could be used, when he'd lost his leg.

"I think you make the mistake of believing that I'm the one calling the shots here," she says. It's a purr and a snarl all at once. "I'm not the one foolish enough to leash you. I'm the spikes in the collar."

She disables the forcefield enough to walk through it. "I don't need your teeth."

He didn't flinch, or even move, as she walked towards him. His back stayed straight and firm, his face stone.

"I don't differentiate the pieces," He said firmly. "The Capitol is the Capitol, and to the Capitol I do my duty."

"Oh, so noble." She reaches forward to touch his chin, to invade his personal space just to prove she can. "Your 'duty'. Your first and foremost duty?"

She runs her thumb over the stubble of his beard.

Maximus is used, by now, to his position as a slave. To the fact that he does not own his own body. To the fact that he can be touched, without permission, but anyone who owns him. He is used to it. He is calm and still, despite the thumb making the skin of his cheek tingle.

But that doesn't keep the fire from blazing in his eyes.

"What other duty could I possibly have," He murmured lowly, his eyes fixed on hers.

She moves her thumb up to his lower lip, rubbing it there in a gesture too cold to be sensual.

Her own eyes are a direct opposite to Max's, black and oily and loveless for anyone but herself. She lacks the respect for the world to view it as an enemy, and as such there's no fear, only disdain.

"I imagine that your lover wouldn't agree that your lot have a very strong duty to the Capitol. Unless he's not the sort of man that he makes himself out to be." She drops her hand, a cruel smile warping her face. "Or is that a threat?"

At the mention of Wyatt, Maximus's rage flared, flickering across his face for the briefest of moments before it returned to stone.

"Wyatt respects what I consider my duty," Maximus said stiffly. "When he is a mentor, I have no doubt he will feel the same."

"Well, Mr. Decimus Meridius." She reaches over and ghosts her hand over the back of his, like a chill. "I hope that your confidence in him does a good job keeping you warm at night."

And with a laugh like icicles falling, she turns and heads off, the train of her dress flapping a little with the wind as she opens the door and leaves.