Maximus Decimus Meridius (
gluteus) wrote in
thecapitol2013-05-18 01:22 pm
Entry tags:
[open]
Who| Maximus and OPEN
What| Maximus just wandering around, basically this is for new CR and ongoing CR and whatever else happens to fall in here. Not really plot specific, just a needed space for some threads.
Where| District 3 suites, Training Centre, the Park, or the Speakeasy
When| Post Wesker's win
Warnings/Notes| Nothing planned that way! Will edit if it comes up.
Maximus did not enjoy the downtime in the Capitol.
It wasn't that he particularly enjoyed the Arenas, either, but being in the Arena was at least vaguely familiar. Survival. Death. It was a cycle he knew and understood.
Unlike the politics. Unlike the gossip and the glamour and the giggling behind hands. Unlike the Avoxes that found their way into his rooms, unlike the women that threw themselves upon him in the street.
He spent almost all of his time either in his suites, training, meandering the park, or looking for Wyatt in the speakeasy. He actively wanted to learn more about his fellow tributes, but did that more by listening and observing than by approaching. He wanted to learn their strength of character. Wanted to know how, deep inside themselves, they felt about their adoptive city and the games that they were forced to compete in.
And the best way to learn that, however slowly it took, was to watch. And to wait.
Eventually everyone laid themselves open.
What| Maximus just wandering around, basically this is for new CR and ongoing CR and whatever else happens to fall in here. Not really plot specific, just a needed space for some threads.
Where| District 3 suites, Training Centre, the Park, or the Speakeasy
When| Post Wesker's win
Warnings/Notes| Nothing planned that way! Will edit if it comes up.
Maximus did not enjoy the downtime in the Capitol.
It wasn't that he particularly enjoyed the Arenas, either, but being in the Arena was at least vaguely familiar. Survival. Death. It was a cycle he knew and understood.
Unlike the politics. Unlike the gossip and the glamour and the giggling behind hands. Unlike the Avoxes that found their way into his rooms, unlike the women that threw themselves upon him in the street.
He spent almost all of his time either in his suites, training, meandering the park, or looking for Wyatt in the speakeasy. He actively wanted to learn more about his fellow tributes, but did that more by listening and observing than by approaching. He wanted to learn their strength of character. Wanted to know how, deep inside themselves, they felt about their adoptive city and the games that they were forced to compete in.
And the best way to learn that, however slowly it took, was to watch. And to wait.
Eventually everyone laid themselves open.

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"Their government must be truly afraid. Killing someone silences them just as easily. This is about sending a message, rather in the same way as the Games. Do not rebel, we will not even grant you the dignity of death."
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He paused, looking back at the Avox as it fled the room.
"Though even in Rome, we had nothing like them."
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"These people will make a fool of me and my belief that they are capable of more."
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He did, however, glance back at the retreating Avox. "I wouldn't be surprised if they had depths we haven't seen, but communication with them is a fool's errand."
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At Maximus' comment, he glances back toward the Avox as well. "I had to try, and I will continue trying. I should like to know what each of them did to deserve such a fate."
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"Laws... Yes, I suppose there were, though I'm not sure how good a treatment I had. There's a good amount of difference between the ideal and the reality."
He sighed, still half laughing, and looked back towards the avoxes. "I imagine they did as much as was necessary to appear to deserve it."
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"I beg your pardon, Monsieur, but may I ask where you are from?" Surely they were the trick of some odd bit of phrasing with which he was unfamiliar. Then again, Little Rock insisted that he too belonged to his history books.
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"As a slave, of course. If an armed one."
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"That is incredible," he finally blurted out, less than satisfied with the eloquence of the response he'd settled on. "I should like to know your opinion of this place. Yours must truly be a unique perspective."
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"What do you want to know?" Maximus asked, careful and polite.
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He paused, glanced toward the window. "Rome itself was... corrupted. Tainted, when I left. The ideal that Marcus Aurelius had tried to uphold - the ideal that I fought and killed for - it had disappeared with his death. It would not be a flattering comparison."
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"I am sorry to know that, Monsieur," came the quiet reply. His lips pursed and brow furrowed, he turned back to Maximus with an increasingly pensive expression. "You knew Marcus Aurelius?"