(no subject)

[gluteus]

WHO| Maximus is OPEN
WHAT| The new Victor / Mentor is adjusting to life in the Capitol again, and meeting his 'wards' leading up to the crowning. And, of course, he keeps being recognized by people he doesn't know...
WHERE| District 3 Suites, and anywhere else (he gets around, feel free to see him wherever)
WHEN| Spanning from the Date Auction to the Crowning
Notes/Warnings| None yet.

It was different, this time.

He'd returned to the Capitol before - recovering from death, adjusting to the city and the future so far from his own. He'd been in the city for months, now, but he still wasn't used to it. And now random strangers would greet him on the street. Women, throwing themselves at him. (And a few men, thinking, after seeing the footage of him and Wyatt, that they might have a chance.)

He ignored it, his face always held stern, extracting himself politely if stiffly from any situation he found himself in.

One situation he could not ignore. He was a Mentor, now, which meant he had a debt of responsibility for the other tributes in District 3. So he made it a mission to seek each of them out if he hadn't before. To learn something about them, and see if he could help them.

For all appearances a good, dutiful Mentor.

While he waited, and laid the seeds of future plot.

Comments

[the_marshal]

[Continuing from this.]

Wyatt woke to the familiar scent of earth in his nose, and for a moment he thought he was back in the arena, but then he felt the dew, cool and wet on his cheeks, the tickle of the grass against his lips, and he knew he wasn't in the cave. Wasn't still wrapped in their dirty, shared bedroll.

Prying his eyes open, he rolled onto his back with a low groan, blinking up into the leaves, and reaching for Max, without even looking. Trusting without reservation that he would be there.

"Max..." His tongue felt thick, clumsy and his voice was rough, husky with sleep. His chuckle was a low rumble as his knuckles tapped Max's shoulders. "Ya still alive over there?"

[gluteus]

He woke up instantly as Wyatt's fingers touched his shoulder and jerked - hand half moving to a knife that wasn't there, but he caught himself doing it mid-stride. He dropped his hand with a slightly embarrassed chuckle, rubbing his face instead.

"... Wyatt. Alive, yes. Unfortunately." He could feel the head ache pounding away behind his eyes.

[the_marshal]

"Unfortunately," Wyatt echoed, hand falling tiredly again Max's shoulder, then down to the grass, as if that had sapped all the energy he had. "Fair choice'a words."

The sun shifted out from behind a cloud and bright, golden rays slipped in through the leaves. He groaned again, cursing low under his breath, head turning away, eyes squeezed to mere slits. Blue eyes peering blurrily across at Max.

"Can't say dead wouldn't have its perks right about now."

[gluteus]

With a great force of will, Maximus pulled himself upright with a groan, rubbing his eyes ever harder.

"I can think of a few myself," He muttered as he slowly blinked them open and looked around. The park. Odd. How did--

Oh, yes. He groaned, again, this time mostly in embarrassment, and looked down at Wyatt sheepishly. "... I dragged us out here last night." He said, as if he had just realised it. "You are alright?"

[the_marshal]

Head turning to watch him, he snorted, rough, but amused.

"As if this was my first night on the ground." He found the strength to reach again, enough to wrap his fingers in the back of Max's robe and haul himself up. "Besides, dragged is'a bit strong."

He let go, rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, a couple circles before turning a small smile on Max.

"I wanted to come."

[shambler]

R gets to the Training Center sometime in the early morning.

He set out last night.

He doesn't think he's ever shambled that fast in his life for a non-food related reason (or Julie. Julie's an impossible exception). It's like a new world record for a zombie. R wants to share it with the world but when he almost ate some of his friends, killed two, and burned his bridges with the last one, suddenly he thinks he better keep it to himself. Go moan in a corner. Feel sorry for himself. It's tempting, he has to admit. The pathetic thing is it wouldn't even be the first time.

R waits hours for Maximus, the time blurring together as he shuffles his way toward the training racks and ogles the shiny bow and arrows set out. It's as good as TV. "HBO", Julie said once. "Don't ask me what HBO is - it was gone before I was even born", she'd added. R takes her word for it. He stands there swaying, watching the light play off the steel.

[gluteus]

Maximus spent a good deal of the morning turning over R's predicament in his brain and turning up very little. In truth, he had no idea how he was supposed to help him, but he had to try.

So he went a little early, just clear his head, and found R already there - staring dully at the bow and arrows.

He has his work cut out for him.

"R?"

typos - adding a little bit more

[shambler]

The zombie's head came up as he slouched toward that voice cutting through the room, echoing off the walls. R forgot all about the archery set as he shuffled over, his feet dragging, his shoes squeaking because he was a lost cause about picking them up. His Escort would've been grinding her teeth at him ruining his shoes this fast if she was here - especially in front of a Victor! Considering Maximus saw him eat a girl alive, R thinks squeaky shoes and crappy posture are the least of his problems.

R squeaked over to Maximus. What time was it anyway? He thought it was morning but he hadn't bothered to look for windows. Tomorrow, at least. Humans did still needed their beauty sleep. (He couldn't remember if he ever saw Maximus sleep - maybe not all humans).

"Hi," R groaned. "Ready...to go."

[gluteus]

"... I can see that. You're early."

He glanced over the zombie, taking him in. He looked better, if that could be said about a walking corpse. He'd noticed at the party, of course, but he was really looking now. No more sand-blasted eyes. No longer covered in blood.

"First things first. How do they keep you lucid here? Do they feed you?"

[retrieverchef]

It was late night when Eliot walked out of the elevator into the District Three common room. He didn't really expected to see anyone still up. No one usually was. He stalked off to get a shower and then settled down on a couch, flipping through the TV channels. Surely there had to be something besides Games footage on somewhere.

[gluteus]

Ironically, Maximus was having a harder time sleeping here than he had in the arena. The night and day had never been the same, there, but he had still slept, easily. Here... Here half of him waited for a knife in his spine.

For cuffs, and chains, and a public execution. So when he heard the TV on he stopped staring at the screen that could almost be a window in his room and stepped out into the common room instead.

He watched the light flicker for a moment before he noticed the man sitting in front of it.

"And here I thought everyone was a'bed," He said gruffly.

[retrieverchef]

Eliot spun around at the unexpected voice. "Maximus?"

He frowned internally, wondering what the other man was doing up. His words were benign but Eliot's blood was still churning restlessly from earlier. "Just got in."

[gluteus]

"It is nearer dawn than dusk," He pointed out lowly as he walked over, settling himself in one of the arm chairs. "But then, I suppose this city never truly sleeps."

[splendid_roman]

"Congratulations on your victory," Ian said, when he saw Maximus in the District 3 common room after the date auction. Ian was eating, trying to fatten himself up for the next arena, and was starting to look a little plump already, if you looked closely. "If congratulations is the right word." Maximus would be spared the arena now, but he wasn't sure things would be much better here necessarily.

[gluteus]

"I'm not certain it is, but I've none to replace it," Maximus said, stepping over as he glanced at the mass of food that Ian was delving into. He gave him a nod in appreciation.

"Are you prepared for the next?"

[splendid_roman]

"I'm working on it." Although Ian put down his knife and fork, taking a break from eating in order to fit more in because he got too uncomfortably full.

"Any ideas what you intend to do with your free time now?" Ian asked.

[gluteus]

He did, and most of them involved assassination and murder, but that was hardly conversation material.

"Train," he said instead. "There are enough of those in this district that have no chance of survival in the arena, that I will have plenty of work." He paused, and then offered a small smile. "You are more prepared, but my arm is yours should you need to practice."

[leavewiththegame]

AndrAIa was in the Training Center, practicing the disabling moves Tim had taught her on training dummies. He'd encouraged her to do that over and over, so it would become something he called "muscle memory". She wasn't sure what that meant, but she wasn't having to remember not to flick her nails out and was placing punches more confidently now.

She glanced away when someone else entered, turned back to the dummy when the face wasn't immediately familiar, then stopped. No, the newcomer wasn't a friend, but he she thought she'd seen him before.

"Excuse me," she addressed him. "Are you the latest winner?"

[gluteus]

He glanced over at the voice, not recognizing it, and found he didn't recognize the face either.

Or the hair colour.

Though the latter he'd grown more used to, in the capitol. He offered her a slow nod.

"I am. You may call me Maximus. You are a tribute?" With her hair, she could be a Capitol resident, but then why be here.

[leavewiththegame]

AndrAIa gave a small smile. "I thought so. I knew I had seen your face, but not in the game or in the city since. I am AndrAIa, another player in the games- I guess they are called tributes here. I have not been here long, and I am still adjusting."

She tilted her head, considering. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"

[gluteus]

Maximus shook his head, and slowly took a seat, watching her.

"I do not. What do you wish to know?"

[saisamour]

Marius had heard that the victor was from the same district as he—it had grown rather impossible to ignore all the gossip on the streets and announced in the strange box that Capitol citizens call the television—but unfortunately paid little attention to all else.

Such as how he remained inattentive to surroundings at the moment. He was, however, actually engaged in an activity that wasn't daydreaming, for once, being currently hunched over a table in the District 3 suite. He chewed on his lower lip while scribbling down rows and rows of words in neat script on loose paper.

You wished for my death and yet it is one I cannot give you. It appears now a greater possibility, had you wished for the bright and distant stars instead. I would have found a way to catch them all for you.

Having reached the end of the page he made an attempt to re-shuffle his papers, only for the top leaf to escape the bundle and flutter onto the ground despite his rather clumsy attempts to save it, right before Maximus's feet.

[gluteus]

He had meant to introduce himself anyway, as part of his new duties, but he was stopped from doing so by the gentle brush of paper against his sandaled toes. He leaned down to pick it up, eyes scrubbing over the words.

His English literacy, however, was still in progress, and he could only really make out the bit about being wished dead, and how it was a greater possibility. He raised an eyebrow.

"Seems a fairly morbid letter," He mused as he handed it back to Marius.

[saisamour]

Oh. Marius's face paled considerably when he discovered that Maximus had picked it up and read it, then turned a faint shade of red at the man's comment. He bowed in a silent thank-you as he accepted it back, and hastily tucked it behind the rest of his papers.

"I apologize," he muttered, staring at a spot on the floor, not daring to meet Maximus's eyes, what with the horror and embarrassment coursing through his veins at having someone else glimpse one of his letters to Cosette. "I did... I did not mean for you to see it."

[gluteus]

"Do not trouble yourself, my literacy in this place leaves much to be desired." He shifted onto his back leg, head tilting slightly so he could look on Marius with a careful and discerning eye.

"But as my charge, I must ask if your thoughts are turning to self-slaughter."