Legion Building

[gluteus]

Who| Maximus and OPEN
What| Maximus wants to build an army
Where| around the capitol
When| across the week before the arena
Warnings/Notes| None so far!


Maximus had been formulating a plan.

Perhaps plan was too strong a word. Commanding was in his blood, it was what his entire career, his entire life had been based on. So he didn't even realize it when he had started to work out the logistics in his head. It wasn't until that he was devising particular strategies for the arena - strategies that weren't just for him, but for a team, for an army that he knew what he had to do.

The best way to ensure survival, and to silently rebel against the capitol, was to stick together. Was to find men and women that he could count on, that he could trust with his life, and that could trust him with theirs. Keep them all alive as long as possible. And last out the Arena together, and refuse to take each other down.

He even  had an idea of who could fit that bill.

All it took was finding them.

Comments

The Speakeasy

[the_marshal]

Wyatt was, in many ways, a creature of habit - especially as the new arena neared.

He wanted nothing to do with the speculation, with the tension, and uncertainty. He didn't want to think about what might be waiting, what they might all be focused to endure, to do, this time.

He wanted to enjoy, as best he could, the short time he had left.

The Speakeasy a refuge, now even more than ever. Even if they didn't really understand here, they at least knew enough to let him be as he sat at his table, shuffled his cards and dealt himself into endless patience games.

[gluteus]

He knew where to find Wyatt, of course. They'd spent many a long evening in almost near silence, and more than a few in hushed voices.

He was one of the first people that Maximus thought of when he began to formulate his plan, and so he made his way almost immediately to the speakeasy once he began to consciously think about it.

So it was that he found Wyatt, exactly where he was expecting him, and slid into the chair opposite with a very small but personable smile.

"Creature of habit," he pointed out amiably.

[the_marshal]

Glancing up from his cards, Wyatt shot him a smile, before looking back down.

"What can I say, I like the company here."

[gluteus]

"Can't understand why," He murmured with humour. He motioned to the waitress for a drink - by this point she knew exactly what to get him - before taking his seat and looking over at Wyatt. He was quiet for a thoughtful moment before speaking.

"I must be honest. I didn't come for cards. Or a drink."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt paused, mid-card turn, an eyebrow raised.

"And I'll hazard a guess ya ain't here for my good looks neither." He settled the card on the table (the nine of spades) and leaned back in his seat.

"So what can I do ya for?"

[gluteus]

"I've been thinking." He leaned his elbow on the table, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he considered how best to explain what he had been thinking about, and have Wyatt understand completely, without worrying about eavesdropping. He glanced at the card deck, frowned, and put out a hand.

"May I?"

[the_marshal]

Bemused, Wyatt passed the deck over.

"By all means," his mustached twitched, "help yerself."