thecapitol | Kevin's Crowning

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Kevin's Crowning

Who | Everyone.
What | Kevin's Crowning
Where | An outdoor plaza, sectioned off and well guarded.
When | Starting at noon and continuing on until sunset.
Warnings/Notes | This event is mandatory for all Tributes and Victors to attend. Even if you do not tag in, your character will attend this party.

Playful signs began to pop-up all over the Tribute center in the days leading up to the crowning, advertising the mandatory nature of the event itself while also promising an afternoon of delightful festivities. All attendees were loaded onto buses and driven to the location of the picnic, with colorful t-shirts distributed upon their arrival (D1- Navy, D2- Red, D3- Grey, D4- Light blue, D5- Orange, D6- Yellow, D7- Forest green, D8- Royal blue, D9- Purple, D10- Black, D11- Lime green, D12- Hot pink, and White for any Capitol officials in attendance.) Likewise, all the attendees were given name tag stickers and then dispersed out into the plaza. All except guest of honor, Kevin, who was escorted onto the grounds dressed entirely in white and was given a large and ornate golden crown to wear.

Balloons of every color decorated the entire area . Along with picnic tables and benches, a large main stage was erected in the middle of the plaza with a microphone and a DJ, who played the same six songs on repeat. At it's center, Kevin was given a throne to sit on, so that he could preside over the picnic and enjoy his freshly prepared hamburger and french fries.

There were several small tents that ringed the edge of the stage area. Inside a few of them, you might face painters available, but the only design they would do was paint your face to look like Kevin. Anyone who had their face painted was also given an adorable construction paper crown to wear.

In other tents, a few carnival games had been set up for entertainment. There was a shooting range game where the faces of the targets changed to look like you whenever you stepped up to play, as well as skeeball and a rope ladder climb game. All the prizes were stuffed plush dolls reminiscent of famed former victors. All with Kevin's smile.

A bouncy castle that looked a shocking bit like the city hall building found in the last arena was free for anyone to play on. (Complete with fog machine!) And almost directly across the way from the castle, a caged-in area set up to be a ball-pit was also open for all to enjoy. Upon further inspection of the pit filled with thousands of plastic balls, one could clearly see how they had each been painted to look like giant, vacant black eyes.

The only two food options available to attendees were cupcakes and hotdogs. The cupcakes came with sprinkles. The hotdogs also came with sprinkles. The only beverage option was orange juice. And everyone must have a glass of orange juice, otherwise no one can ever leave.

At 2pm, Peacekeepers erected a volleyball net and the Tributes were instructed to play. Anyone who touched the net would get a slight electrical shock. Clearly it was a best to avoid the net.

As the volleyball game came to a close, several officials took the stage with a special announcement. Public polls would be open to all Capitol citizens the following morning to begin casting their votes. Who will be the next tributes to go into the next arena?! Over the next few days, the public will pick their favorites to enter a special bonus arena! Stay tuned for details!

Once the festivities were over and the Tributes were loaded back onto the buses, they would come to notice something new in the lobby of the Tribute Center. On the ceiling above them was a massive crystal chandelier, seven feet across. And it was no ordinary chandelier. It was customized beautifully, in the shape of Kevin's jagged and ever-present smile.

Beneath it, a spread of fine wine and cheeses. A man in a cream yellow suit with cream yellow hair sat at a grand piano in the corner, playing calm and pleasant melodies that might seem almost familiar to some and yet unrecognizable to anyone. Escorts seem to be in no hurry to get tributes back to their towers, and the wine continues to flow late into the night for anyone who lingers around to drink it.

Until next time, tributes. Until next time.

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Thor's approach to everything so far has been.. zen. He's been calm and patient, he's felt anger and let it go. He's attempted to build bridges with the sorceress who killed him, but something about Gannicus really flares up his manly pride.

When he sees him occupying a table, he half wants to declare a rematch, but that is not how things are done here. Instead, he decides to approach and discreetly show off the fact that his shirt is a finer colour. Red. Grudges aside, he doesn't want to carry real hatred here for anyone but the Government and Gamemakers and Kevin for personal reasons, so he does hope to settle some of his irritation by speaking with the man outside of the Arena.

"That colour does you justice." He points out with a smile.

Gannicus himself feels fairly Zen, as well. The unsettling quality of the celebrations - the sprinkles, the music, the creepy facepainting - were so completely lost on him that the only thing he really objected to remained the tightness of his t-shirt. Now, free of that, Gannicus was quite happy to enjoy his sprinkled hot dog in peace.

He recognised Thor - of course he did, how could he not? - but Gannicus's reaction was a wide, beaming grin as he leapt to his feet.

"Thor!" He boomed, stretching out a tanned palm to slap the bigger man on one large shoulder. "You have returned to life for further beating, I see!"

Thor isn't precisely sure what he had in mind for Gannicus and their inevitable reuniting, but it wasn't this. In his mind, it would have been difficult to control his temper, given the way the other man ruffled his feathers so thoroughly in the Arena. This? This is a reaction he can get behind. He doesn't agree with people who fight to kill in the Arena, but he can appreciate some sportsmanship and playful jeering.

His smile becomes a wide grin and he doesn't budge at the smack, he just reciprocates it by putting a large hand on Gannicus' shoulder, glancing around before he replies. "Your friend is nowhere to be seen. Shall we hold off until he arrives?" He lets out a loud laugh, content with getting his own jab in so he can put it behind him all the better.

"For your sake, we had better," Gannicus countered with a laugh, before moving back to resume his seat at the picnic table and boyishly pushing at Thor to take the seat opposite him.

"Come! Sit, share with me -- they offer us piss in place of wine, but eat!" He pushed his plate of sprinkled hot dogs towards the bigger man, nodding at the encouragingly. Gannicus had clearly enjoyed them, largely because he was still entirely ignorant of the fact that it was the food that had slowly poisoned him in the arena.

He's happily easing into the play now that he's decided Gannicus may not resemble the impression he'd formed of him from a brief meeting. Of course, it's difficult not to think poorly of someone who cracked you over the head with a pipe, but these are trying times.

"It is not the feast we rightly deserve for our hard work." He had so hoped there would be feasting, the talk of a crowning had gotten his hopes up. He had reservations over the food himself, but inevitably justified eating one and then the others came quickly after. He happily partakes in the other and takes one to bite it almost aggressively, talking around it.

"How did you fair? I did not see you after our conversation."

"I was but one of handful remaining - " Gannicus smile faded as he remembered what he would have to admit next - the ignominy and shame of having been manipulated by the gamemakers in to becoming such a disgusting creature. " - Until I joined Nasir in monstrous shape and appetite, and fell prey to deadly storm."

Which was to say he was blown up in an explosion, not that Gannicus had the words for it.

"I hope you fared better." Gannicus allowed himself a smirk. "Or did our 'conversation' prove too painful an exchange of words?"

"You make me thankful for my quick end." His fight with Rose had been unpleasant enough, to see himself turn into such a creature would shake him more than his death had managed to. There's no shame to him in admitting he went down trying to help someone, at the very least.

"It hindered me somewhat, but they granted me the power to heal myself and I felt it no longer." He'll smirk right back for that jab. "But I did not keep for as long as you. Perhaps a short time before the infection spread." That's the best word he can find to describe it.

"Then you were spared a most unfortunate end," Gannicus replied ruefully; it was a good thing, that Thor had escaped the horrifying condition that had been inflicted on the Tributes. He feels a little cheated, in truth. He shook his head as he bitterly lamented:

"Such a death holds little fucking glory."

There is a glimmer of something interesting there that Thor hopes to use. He had been confused by the readiness Gannicus expressed when it came to cutting other tributes down, but he knew little of his world. If this is an objectionable difference to him then perhaps Thor can help him see what stops him from fighting.

"There is no glory here." His voice is pointedly low. "There is no honor, either. They would have us stripped down to our lowest and weakest if it would entertain them for a moment."

"It is but a dim reflection of true arena's honour," Gannicus admits, his own voice matching Thor's in volume and tone. "It is but for those with skill to give a glorious passing to those we call friend..."

His mouth goes dry. Explaining this had never really been something Gannicus had had to do; it was too much tied up with instinct and survival and every barbaric fibre of his being that Gannicus simultaneously hated and relied upon. With an expression of acute frustration he glances about them quickly, as if to check that somehow an amphora of wine hadn't miraculously appeared to put him out of his sober misery.

"Why is there no fucking wine?"

"I did not understand when I arrived, why they would call it a game of all things. Now? It is more than clear to me." He just barely grimaces, brows furrowed in concern. "Perhaps we could show them what true warriors are." There's a faint hinting tone in his voice, he's implying everything and absolutely nothing.

"There will be our share of it soon, I have no doubt." He lightens some, reaching across the table to grip Gannicus' shoulder in a manly display of comfort. "And then I shall drink you under the table."

Perhaps we could show them what true warriors are.

Gannicus lifts his gaze sharply at that, shooting Thor a look that was wary and tense. Since returning to the Capitol he had been reminded only too many times to watch his mouth and guard himself from the ever-open ears and eyes of the Peacekeepers, but had never truly understood how it was exactly that anyone was meant to hear their whispers. Thankfully, Gannicus knew that Thor's words were open enough to be interpreted a million different ways. The wary expression melts away in to an easy, open laugh.

"And I will happily let you attempt to prove your words true, friend!" He leans back and spreads his hands in mock apology. "Alas, the gods themselves do not possess table great enough..."

Thor meets the other man's eyes with an even expression, hiding any tension behind a proud smile. He's learned to keep his statements vague, but he wants to test Gannicus' mettle in a sense that has little to do with the battle in the Arena. He's a tenacious sort, he could prove useful. But for now, Thor finds him to be good company.

"Those are the words of a man who has not feasted in Asgard." He gives him a sly grin. "It is any wonder the warriors of my realm have not drunk us dry from the celebrations of victory."

Gannicus laughs broadly at that - surely it's a joke, a metaphor, something. Gannicus is used to talking in lofty, blase terms about the gods - from the size of their genitals to their seemingly endless capacity to rain down misfortune on them from Olympus itself.

The laugh turns uncertain; Gannicus leans across the table to squint appraisingly at the big man opposite him.

"And what realm would that be?"

Thor laughs with him, because it's hilarious, clearly. He doesn't know why they're laughing, but the conversation is jovial and he's enjoying himself. He seems perplexed at the question, so much so that he would chuckle at it.

"Asgard." He repeats. "Did my name not reveal as much to you?"

Well, that's just a terribly amusing joke, isn't it? Gannicus continues to laugh, eyebrows uplifted in an is that so? expression, but doesn't comment. Merely laughs and waits expectantly for Thor's real answer.

He's sure it will come in a moment. Any time now.

Now that it has become very clear that Gannicus doesn't believe him, his chuckles come to a stop and there's a long, awkward silence before he takes initiative and speaks again.

"I speak true, Gannicus. I've no reason to jest you, Asgard is my homeland." He gives him a wry smile. "Surely you don't find it beyond belief when there are men among us who are grey and horned."

"Fuck, you stand more mad than I!" Gannicus is still laughing, but this time it has turned sharp and incredulous. He shakes his head loftily.

"The foreign men you speak of - they have proof, in being grey of skin and sharply horned. You --" He pointed a finger at Thor, grinning, "--Have supplied no fucking proof of word."

"I hardly see what is so incomprehensible about it." He can't help sounding a little indignant, if only because this isn't the first time he's had the same reaction.

"And what proof can I provide? They take our powers and possessions, I cannot summon my hammer to conjure a storm for your appraisal." He gives him a bland look. "There are many here who would confirm, should you remain in disbelief."

Gannicus leans back in his seat - a dangerous thing, when the seat is a picnic bench - and spreads his arms wide in theatrical invitation.

"Bring them!" He said loudly, raising his voice and causing a few heads to turn. "Bring them to me, and I shall stand judge of word!"

Dropping his arms with a grin he twisted in his seat, offering Thor a look at a certain tattoo etched in to his shoulder amidst thin white laces of scars scattered across his skin.

"Do you know of this mark?"

"I shall give you names, you may make your judgements in your own time. Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers have fought alongside me." He can't help letting a small smirk form. "Of course, you could always ask Loki. He was always the more convincing of the two."

He lets out a low chuckle before he leans in to inspect the markings on his arm. "It is a talisman for protection." He observes. "You are Norse? A viking?" His curiousity is piqued now.

Steve Rogers - at least that name is familiar. The man stood beside him for District Nine, and Gannicus makes a mental note to ask about the giant blond guy with delusions of godhood. And a Loki, too? It would hopefully make for an entertaining conversation.

"Celt," He returns promptly with a deft shake of his head. "I travelled to the lands of the North, in the years after freedom was won. The mark you see stands testimony to an ill-fated night of drink and poor choices made..." Gannicus winces, darkly remembering the strength of the ale the Norse men had served up.

"Those men - they understood what it meant to drink..."

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Kevin's Crowning

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ftr it's this http://spartacus-andywhitfield.tumblr.com/post/60487032866/

what a hottie

worst blue steel ever tho