Thicker Than Blood Start

[gamemakers]

For Tributes with keen eyes, they'll notice that Peacekeeper presence seems increased and yet infinitely more ineffective in the last few weeks. Peacekeepers seem harried, as do the Stylists, and most of the Escorts titter and plot without alerting the Tributes as to what, exactly, is so exciting. They simply say that this weekend they'll know.

And so it happens that on the weekend in question, the Tributes are woken by their Escorts early and brought to a restaurant for a hearty breakfast. The restaurant is nothing spectacular, although they seem to be trying to make an impression on the television cameras that float around. The sleepy, cranky meal goes by and then the Tributes are led back to their Suites for a mandatory meeting.

Sitting on couches and the floor, in chairs and on windowsills, standing off to the side - people from the Tributes' homes are waiting to greet them in each District Suite. Some are confused, some accepting, some frightened and some elated to see their beloved. Either way, it should be an eventful reunion.

Comments

[notyet]

For the first time, Juba's handsome smile slipped. Teeth disappearing again behind his lines as his dark eyes moved over Maximus' face.

Did he not know? How could he not?

...But, then, Juba had never died. Perhaps that was part of the mystery of the process.

"They did not have to tell me anything, my friend. I saw it." With the others, held behind the bars, watching, helpless to do anything. "I helped carry you from the arena."

[gluteus]

Maximus' face fell, the confusion obviously apparent - Juba was one of the few men from whom he would never conceal his honest emotions.

"You saw it?" He asked. "You carried..." He trailed off. Juba talked about him like he was dead, but he had never had to be carried off in an arena.

"... How did I come to fall?" He asked, his voice oddly tight.

[notyet]

Juba paused a moment. The Roman's gods were not his, but even so, if they had gone through such trouble to keep the memory from the man, was it his place to undo their magic?

What if they meant to spare him the weight of memory?

But Maximus was his friend and Juba would not lie to him. Gods or no.

"You found your vengeance. Commodus fell first, but your wounds were too great. By the time we reached you, your gods had taken you."

[gluteus]

Maximus was so stunned he lost the ability to speak, first. Then after a moment he shook his head.

"... No. No, I-- After our first Arena in Rome, I was brought here. I disappeared, Juba. I came to fight in another world, and my vengeance was left unfulfilled." He believed it, but there was a waver in his voice. He had never considered that perhaps he had continued on just as Rome had...

[notyet]

"Maximus, if anyone would know of you disappearing, it would be the man that shared your cell," Juba told him, in his slow, deep voice. An unintentional, but effective, emphasis. "I watched you fight The Tiger and best him. I helped in your escape."

Had been punished, beaten, after his capture.

"And then watched you defeat Commondus in the arena, and saw you fall. Whatever your gods have done to your memory, it is not truly what happened."

[gluteus]

Maximus had no idea what to say. He had no outward expression - his entire body stilling with the surprise and shock, his brows knitted fiercely between his eyes as he tried to process what Juba had told him.

"My escape. Commodus--" Finally his brain caught up to what was important. "Then he is dead?"

[notyet]

"Yes." Was the steady, unhesitating reply.

A promise.

"He thought to challenge you in the arena, and there he died, at your hand." Juba smiled again then, fond and proud. "Justice was served."

[gluteus]

"So they were avenged." The sentence came as if from far away, as if he could barely believe it.

"... All this time, Juba, I thought-- I thought I had failed--"

[notyet]

"No. No, my friend."

Juba's hands found Maximus' shoulders in a steadying grip, his dark eyes square on the Roman's.

"You can rest at ease; your work is done."

[gluteus]

He let out a hard breath, the firm grip of Juba's hand on his shoulder somehow grounding him.

"Then I am free," He said, something lodging in his throat. My honour no longer bound to the dead. I... I went to join them."

[notyet]

"You are free," Juba echoed.

His teeth flashed again. The strangeness of the circumstances were finally starting to settle over him, though he was less troubled, as bemused by them.

"Though it is strange that the gods would keep the truth from you."

He tapped the old scar on Maximus' shoulder.

"I knew you would anger them."

[gluteus]

"There are no gods here, friend," Maximus said, heavily. "Or at least, they do not hear my prayers. This place is made by man and man alone - if it were Elysium, there would be no where left to suffer." He breathed out, heavily, glancing to the window.

"... I will show you, if you wish it. You will have to come to see the truth yourself."

[notyet]

Juba's head tipped, and he looked around at the strange scene again.

"I did think it strange," he admitted, "that I would dream of a place such as this."

But still, he smiled gently as he turned back to Maximus, setting aside the disheartening he felt thinking about what the man's words might otherwise mean. He knew it would do him no good to despair. Captors would do as they wished, and whatever that might turn out to be, it would not change his fate.

He believed.

He knew what waited for him.

"Come, Maximus. Show me where you have disappeared to."