etcircenses: (Default)
Panem Events ([personal profile] etcircenses) wrote in [community profile] thecapitol2015-01-20 10:58 pm

The Crowning Of The Signless

Who| Everyone.
What| The Crowning of The Signless.
Where| An alcove in a nearby mountain.
When| From dusk to dawn, on Thursday.
Warnings/Notes| This event is mandatory for all Tributes to attend. Even if you do not tag in, your character will attend this party. Peacekeepers will be on high alert. There will be no chance to runaway.

Tributes are encouraged to sleep all during the day, before the crowning. The reason for this is revealed when they are roused at sundown and brought to the closest mountain to the city, where they are greeted by an alcove within the moutainside that has been carved into a temple to what may be an illicit faith. The stone alcove is dim-lit by candles arranged along walls and by what appears to be altars set before iron cancer signs, some plain, some inlet with intricate carvings. Bright red drapery hangs about the room, tapestries with the cancer sign and cirles of blending color spectrum. There are also some waist high leggings hung upon one wall. In the center of the room, shackles hang, glowing bright from some sort of internal heat and light. A hole in the ceiling is set on each side of it, to allow the smoke to escape from the great bonfire that roars beneath it. If one takes a seat upon any of large stones and logs aranged around it, they can see both the stars twinkling down and the way the smoke looks as though it is coming off the shackles.

The only windows otherwise are made from stained glass depicting images from the Signless's life, such as his rescue by "Alternia's First Mother" (so described on the metal plate below), "The Recording of His Teachings" depicting The Disciple writing the Signless's words into a book, "A New Follower" showing the Psiioniic joining the Signless, a boat deemed "The First Ship", and "The Execution" which features the death of the Signless before thousands of followers, a fifth troll- resembling Terezi- bearing the shackles as a necklace and another with great brown wings, a single window of Karkat and Kankri Vantas, as well as a sinister depiction of six indistinct shadowy figures of cerulean, blue, indigo, violet, tyrian, and maroon. Cave-style paintings cover the stone walls, styles ranging from simple scribbled etching to circles featuring twelve colors in circle, with bright red at the center, and yet more elaborate shadowy depictions of those in the stained glass, esepcially the Signless himself, both prior and following his execution.

But not all is dedicated to the Signless and his old posse of biblical age trolls. A shrine has been set up for redeemed and then so quickly lost victor, Matthew 'Punchy' O'Conner. Punchy has been painted upon a cave wall like he fits right into the theme. Upon his shrine lay all varieties of bling; Bling-jewelery, a bling goblet, bling boxing gloves, a hoodie, a nun habit, and a stone with a memorial rap engraved atop-- with bling, of course, all shimmering by the spotlights placed before the shrine. Refillable 40 oz bottles are lain out so that sorrowful guests, wishing to pay their respect to the boy so cruelly slain by rebels when he had turned from them, can pour one out in his honor.

Marius is also honored there with a tea light and small framed photograph set upon an empty table with an empty chair, along with souvenir versions of his and Cosette's wedding rings that guests can take home. Beneath all these rings is a photoshopped picture of javert with a single tear running down his manly face.

The only seating besides the stones and logs and Marius's single chair, are those that are sat at a table at the end of the room. Each is draped in a different color, six on each side for each district and each blood hue-- presumably of the Victor's choosing. Between these chairs sits yet one more with a tall back like a flogging jut that got the redesigned at the base to make a throne that some trolls might recognize as belonging to the Empress. The arms of the chair feature open shackles. The throne is decorated in chains of gold and jewels of all colors. The victor is given a crown of gilded flowers and thorns on chain.

Food can be found upon the altars or the victor's table, in surplus. Alternian delicacies are served, featuring insects, flavored or plain, and food made from insects. Guests may find a giant beetle being served upon a spit roast. Even the meats appear to be topped with bugs. The cakes, marshmallows (which can be roasted with stick by the fire!), and orange creamsicles may be the only things truly bug-free. Drink options are water, wine, and soda.

Stylists are encouraged to dress their tributes primarily in black, with a single bit of color put into the design matched according to district (with exception to trolls), or any manner of draping fabrics, cloaks, and costumery reminiscent of religious iconagraphy that one might expect of ancient aliens. Waist high pants and leggings are also in high regard, as well as fake horn, fangs, contacts, and anything to make guests look more trollish. The only rule is for the main colors to match to the blood assignment.

The music playing is the sort one might expect from a church, featuring mournful vocals, soft bells and melodies, and of course, organ music. But for one or two jarring differences. Where this music is coming from remains a mystery but since the space is open and clear, guests have plenty of room for dancing.

Those who don't wish to dance can talk and regale tales around the bonfire, or may instead seek out the book of "scripture" at one of the altars that features nothing more than various parables- with names that Tributes might recognize! Each Tribute has one parable contained within, telling a tale in flourished manner of a part of their life, featuring a pro-capitol moral at the end.

Elsewhere, are models of the flogging just, where guests can put their hands through the oversized cuffs and pretend to writhe in agony, an Alternian bioware helm where guests too can pretend to have their lifeforce and power used a battery for the sake of the Alternian empire, a dress-up station where guests can customize their appearance to match trolls sold into gruelling slavery to seadwellwers, and an area designed to look like a cave with extensive "Alternian" (gibberish) writings of the Signless's words, where guests too can pretend they've lost everyone they love and are carrying on their legacy by writing upon the walls and leaving their own messages of love and mourning. Not to mention, a life-sized drone with realistic piercing claws, for all your picture posing needs.

A sandpit lies just around a corner for children to make castles, dig trenches, and act out games of pretending they've trekked thousands of miles through zombie infested desert just to speak to a couple of people! Guests can also meet a "mutantblood lusus" a four-eyed crab creature with lizardlike structure-- only sized no bigger than the average dog and perhaps about as intelligent. Guests are warned not to put their hand too close, lest the claw pincers manage to pinch them.

Late into the crowning, everyone is brought out to the dark mountainside, well monitored by peacekeepers, and divided into teams. Everyone is given belts with velcro flags attached, colored according to the "blood" they were matched with by district. Those in the eighth, ninth, twelfth, third, tenth, and eleventh districts are deemed the "lowbloods. Those in the first, fourth, second, fifth, sixth, and seventh districts, are deemed the "highbloods". Each team is given a velcro board to attach the flags to. The first team to lose all their flags loses, winners getting tiny necklace copies of the shackles. The last one standing with a flag wins a larger necklace copy and the option to get it redesigned into a symbol of their choosing.

If you failed not to be "culled", fear not! All tributes receive a participation sticker at the end. This sticker features a number. It is not indicative of districts or of age, as will be announced shortly, but of the new scoring. These will be announced for everyone to hear- and pick out targets from.

The crowning officially ends with the coming dawn. And so begins, to everyone's surprise, preparation for the arena. Tributes will be going right from the crowning off to the Tribute launch tubes. Happy Hunger Games!

[Note: This is ICly on Thursday! Just before the arena on Friday!]
carnagecarnival: (I saw bright open common sense.)

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2015-01-24 12:23 am (UTC)(link)
The blue helps, he thinks, through the thick fog of illness what has come upon him for this crowning. Blue, being far from Jade, keeps the comparison just that little bit away. He's... truth said, he's afraid to face her here. This is the celebration of the execution of her charge in an alternate world. It could either be so distant as to not matter so much, or so close as she could turn on him with fangs bared and he'd deserve--

He walks up slow to her and the window. He holds one arm and keeps his eyes down. He tries all to make enough noise as not to alarm, while still keeping otherwise quiet. The cloak they've throne over his shoulders, around that decorative indigo garb, sways where it hangs near his feet.

He looks up at the stained glass meaning to say something reassuring or apologetic.

"She was motherfucking terrifying, she up and was."

And definitely not that.
Edited 2015-01-24 00:24 (UTC)
fusshionable: (14)

[personal profile] fusshionable 2015-01-24 07:36 am (UTC)(link)
Porrim becomes aware of a presence at her side for the fourth time this evening, this one careful to make enough noise that she hears him coming. She looks up and over her shoulder to find Initiate standing there, looking oddly contrite. She makes sure to give him a smile--she finds that things like smiles tend to set her Tributes at ease.

"I can imagine, from the way you've described her to me." She gestures up at the image. "And yet, they make her look so lovely and peaceful there. Two sides to every story, aren't there?"
carnagecarnival: (fade to the background)

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2015-01-24 07:52 am (UTC)(link)
He nods. Yes, of course that was true. It had been true for all of them, hadn't it been?

"SHE CARED A LOT ON FOR HIM. For Signless. WE TROLLS AIN'T DO THIS NOISE AS YOUR KIND DOES. But he called her mother. WAS MAYBE HALF HER SIZE WHEN AT I MET HER." He remembers drawing his clubs, staring up at her wide-eyed, as Kankri assured, no, it was okay, it was fine, it's just his mother, and his small self hadn't known at all what the fuck that meant. "She was always looking out on for him. GOT PROTECTING HIM EVERYWHERE, EVEN UP IN THE DESERTS."

Finally, he admits, "Mostly was just afraid at I'd hurt him." And it hadn't been at all unfounded.

He points to a stained glass image of the cat troll. "THERE'S THE DISCIPLE. She was part of that group they got making." He points to the yellowblod with blue and red eyes. "THE PSIIONIIC. All four of them got making a family. THE DISCIPLE SPOKE EVER FOND WHEN SHE WAS BEING HERE." He frowns. "I don't know why I'm telling you this none. I AIN'T NEVER KNOW WHAT THE FUCK AT TO SAY TO YOU. You're not her, but you is, and I ain't think I ought to be near either way, but such all as districts be."
fusshionable: (06)

[personal profile] fusshionable 2015-01-25 03:56 pm (UTC)(link)
She doesn't say much. At this juncture, it's not really her place to say anything at all. She's the interloper, here; like a case of stolen identity, except for the fact that she didn't do anything wrong except be born under the right sign at the right time. So she listens to him tell her about all these people--some of them she recognizes from here in the Capitol, but that's irrelevant at this juncture. So when Initiate expresses his own lack of surety about this whole situation, Porrim just shrugs, a little helplessly.

"I...don't know. I can understand your discomfort around me. I promise you, I bear you no ill will. Whatever you and my alternate-self had going on between you, well, that was between the two of you." She gives Initiate a brief smile. "My job here is to make sure you're well-taken care of."
carnagecarnival: (Dualscar was in this season)

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2015-01-25 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
And there's the thing. The little motherfucking hitch up in it all. For all he can express fear, it ain't her what's the scary one. He looks at her, trying to see through the dark shades. Dark where once she shone bright.

"...EVEN KNOWING I WOULD BURN ALL WHAT YOU'D GOTTEN TO CARE FOR, MARYAM?"

She could spot the double edge there. She could hear it in his preach and make all to stop him. It would be the one damn life in which she could. That's fair, isn't it? If she only guessed what he intended to do to the Capitol, she could halt it.

Or not.
Edited 2015-01-25 17:48 (UTC)
fusshionable: (09)

[personal profile] fusshionable 2015-01-25 06:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Porrim exhales slow through her nostrils, because Initiate's words send a slow thrill down her spine. It's the first time any Tribute has said anything remotely anarchic in her presence, and she needs to respond appropriately. She needs to say something that won't arouse suspicion--preferably in a way that hints subtly toward the fact that she's beginning to find her own feelings are in accordance with the sentiment. So she gives him a brief smile, looking at Initiate over the rim of her sunglasses.

"Even so," she says simply.
carnagecarnival: (In the Kingdom of rust.)

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2015-01-25 06:21 pm (UTC)(link)
She's human all over. There's no horns, there's not a trace of Alternian to her. The sclera of her eyes are white as bone. But she's still got that air of being jade.

"Even so," He repeats. He never would have understood, way back then. He looks back to the stand glass of the Dolorosa. He's still having to look up at her. The smallest trace of smile shows at the corner of his mouth.

"DETERMINATION. Kindness up in spite. USUALLY AS TO BE A RAINBOWDRINKER, SOMETHING TRIES TO MAKE DEAD OF YOU FIRST. Then begins the rise of dayglow like dawning sun." He smirks at her. "YOUR OTHER SELF RUBBED OFF THE SIGNLESS. Can see at where the motherfuck he got it from."

Edited 2015-01-25 18:32 (UTC)
fusshionable: (05)

[personal profile] fusshionable 2015-01-25 06:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Porrim catches that tiniest bit of a smile and she can feel her heart thundering in her bones, like the beat of a war drum in her rib cage. And it only gets stronger as he goes on talking, the hair on her neck standing on end when he mentions something of a rebirth. Ever since she took this job, ever since she found out all these essential truths about herself--she's been trying to hide it. To push it back down, smooth it over. Pretend it doesn't matter. But this Crowning, talking to these trolls who knew who she was in a time when her skin glowed bright as day and her teeth were sharp as knives--it makes her want to embrace it, instead. To use it for good, to use it as a reason to act on all these crazy thoughts she's been having.

But not here. Not now. So she simply fixes her sunglasses back over her eyes, lets the smile smooth away into something less conspiratorial.

"Well, then," she murmurs. "Perhaps I'll have to strive to be a bit more like her, in that case."
carnagecarnival: (heh)

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2015-01-25 07:06 pm (UTC)(link)
For lifetimes, they've danced around. Making all to work towards a purpose, but ultimately never making to be on the same side. Not rivals, hardly enemies penultimate when each would find and face bigger. Simply forces that went ways aversive.

Perhaps, for the first time, they might truly wind up on the same side.

"FIRST," He says, "YOU'LL NEED A SAW."
fusshionable: (14)

[personal profile] fusshionable 2015-01-25 08:08 pm (UTC)(link)
The escort laughs lightly, like he's said something amusing. All in keeping up appearances. Can't be too conspiratorial.

"I could be down with that," she remarks, wishing the hammering of her heart would stop. She's amped up all of a sudden, itching to do...something. She doesn't really know what. But something.
carnagecarnival: (And I'll kick you down.)

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2015-01-25 10:37 pm (UTC)(link)
He can almost sense it on her, the hardest of fears to hold, adrenaline. Training with fear was typically done by ones own. All still, he hadn't known many others to proper grasp that particular edge of fear. Even more so when he can't proper feel it.

He turns to proper look down at her. His face changes from its joking smirk to something serious. All at once he bows his head and horns to her, slow and small, so as not to catch her in his tines.

"Thank you, Sister Maryam. FOR OFFERING THIS BROTHER THE GRACE AND FORGIVENESS WHAT ALL WOULD HAVE BEEN DENIED AT ALL ELSEWHERE BUT PANEM." It sounds of pro-capitol tripe, but he means every word. He doesn't imagine this conversation would happen otherwise. Perhaps this can repay.

He lifts his head, holding her eyes yet again and stepping foward so that, into her ear, he can whisper; "Count the colors."

And with that, he turns to go, hand brushing over one of the chairs marked by bloodcolor. For each district.
fusshionable: (02)

[personal profile] fusshionable 2015-01-25 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
In return, Porrim bows her head politely, careful not to undo her elaborate, knotted hairstyle, and gives him a polite smile. Very careful to keep any tone of warning out of her voice, she delivers the classic Capitol line. "My pleasure, Initiate. May the odds be ever in your favor."

And that would be that, except he's leaning in to whisper in her ear, and behind her sunglasses, her eyes go wide.

Thirteen colors. Twelve districts...plus one. There's some cosmic balance here that she hadn't previously considered. Intiate turns and leaves, and she remains there for a moment, stunned, feeling like someone's poured water down her neck.

She needs a stiff drink.
Edited (fucking limebloods) 2015-01-25 23:12 (UTC)