thecapitol | [OPEN] WEDDINGS!

[OPEN] WEDDINGS!

On that breezy and festive night, the Aphrodisia Garden blazes radiantly enough to blot out the light of the crescent moon and the stars.

The wedding ceremony itself progresses without a hiccup; first is the procession, and then Maximus escorts the bride down the aisle in her blue-and-floral wedding gown; Marius ends up crying a little; vows are exchanged; a kiss is made; a union in love promised never to be broken. And soon, the reception begins.

Yellow-white fairy lights curl and twinkle around the trunk of every tree in sight, while bright bulbs encased in glass jars hang from their branches. To one side is the plentiful buffet table, the succulent aroma of meats and fruit wafting through its surrounding area. Crystal chandeliers spaced at about a meter apart shedding their light onto the meticulously-plated food and intricately-designed dessert towers interspersed in-between white-gold candelabrums. Any empty space on the white-clothed table has been covered with the same glass jars that hang above the guest's heads, a solitary candle burning brightly inside each.

The circular guest tables seat eight persons each, the tablecloth woven with dark-green moss. A thin trunk wrapped in twinkle lights protruding from the center of the table and ending with a bouquet of flowers, fruit, and leaves serves as the centerpiece. More flowers of varied colors and sizes are scattered underneath the table, giving off a mild, floral scent that carries throughout the rest of the garden.

On the opposite end of the garden is a small, man-made river with a bridge arching over it. The lights of the festivities reflect on its rippled surface, seemingly transforming it into a river of gold.

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The buffet table is filled with delectable looking dishes, spanning several eras but all with a Capitol flair of some sort. Decadence is the number one theme when it comes to all of the dishes, some in colors that look far too unnatural to be... well... natural. Avoxes are stationed along the line, serving whatever one could ask for, while others bring drinks to the guests at their tables.

The tables themselves are on a first come, first seated basis. Seeing as the couple, nor their escorts, had any idea just how many people would actually attend the wedding, they had not bothered with seating charts. However, there’s ample room for all, with even extra seats that will likely remain empty all evening.

Each seat has a gift for the attendee at it. A charm attached to a fresh pink rose with a ribbon tied around, a love quote written on the ribbon.

The happily wedded couple sits at a master table at the head of it all, not even having to get up for their own food-- but also like being put on display for the rest of the party to see.

In this place, Cosette found it hard to wrap her mind around why exactly they’d be wanting to do a bouquet toss. However, her escort insisted that she continue the tradition and so, she made her way to the spot designated, waiting for the crowd to form around her. It all seemed rather silly, but she tried her best not to concern herself too much with it all.

It’s what the Capitol wanted, after all, and with their generosity, she couldn’t deny them the silly things they insisted upon. So, waiting for her cue, she readied the bouquet and as soon as she got the go ahead, she was tossing it behind her into the throng of women that had gathered.

When Marius's escort explains to them, at his own request, the nuances of the garter toss, he immediately turns a bright shade of red and says, in a firm and scornful tone, "I refuse."

Cosette has, perhaps, turned the same shade of red, turning her gaze to her escort, then back to his. It doesn’t sound at all appealing to her either, seeing as she thinks those sorts of things should be left for the bedroom and hardly at all appropriate for the public eye. She looks back at her own escort pleadingly. “Is there any way we could avoid this? It’s a little too much…”

"Nonsense! It will be fun." Marius's escort answers for both of them, flashing gold teeth at the couple, seemingly ignorant of their distress. "Besides, it's Capitol tradition! You don't want to disappoint your fans and sponsors, do you?"

A chill runs up Marius's spine at that. He's fairly certain his escort did not mean it as a threat, but that is how he takes it, nonetheless; there will always be the danger of losing Cosette. He loathes how the Capitol controls him, but for his love's safety there is little he will not endure.

He glances at Cosette then, a little helplessly, his eyes communicating, What must we do?

Cosette seems a little distressed at that comment, but her own escort is nodding eagerly along with Marius’s. Sponsors and fans, everything revolves around them in this place and she’s learned this in her short time here. Squeezing his hand, she nods slightly. “Ah… If it’s Capitol tradition, my love… I would hate to offend them after they’ve been so-- generous.”

Marius looks like he's about to protest; instead, he returns the squeeze, a little more tightly perhaps than intended, takes a deep, long breath, releases it, and gets on one knee. He's still bright red in the face when he says, without looking up at Cosette, "Ah... My love... I think you might need to l-lift... lift your skirts... a little..."

The crowd that had started to gather around after their escorts so kindly announced the toss was enough to make her flush down her neck. She nods, just a little, gathering her skirts into her hands as she lifts it so he can even find her leg in the whole mess of fabric.

Marius swallows the lump forming in his throat and raises trembling hands to reach for the garter, trying to make as little contact as possible with Cosette's stockinged leg. After what seems for him to be aeons, the lacy fabric brushes against his fingers, and he breathes out a small sigh of relief as he pulls it downwards, taking care to be as gentle as he could be.

His hands are still shaking as he leads the garter lower against her thigh, and amidst the embarrassment and horror that he feels is his abhorrence towards the Capitol growing tenfold. Marius has never even thought himself capable of detesting anyone or anything so strongly, and yet, in this very moment, he swears that he loathes the Capitol as much as he loves the lady before him.

Cosette hadn’t realized it was possible to blush quite this much, going as far as hiding her face in her hands as soon as his were under her skirt. Was it possible that they could have made this worse? She couldn’t imagine such a thing, truly. There’s actually a small squeak as he lowers the garter further.

Marius immediately tenses when he hears the squeak, and he glances up, through the white lace and pink-and-red flower prints and blue fabric, at Cosette, brows worried and appearing mildly panicked. “A-Am I hurting you?”

“No!” Her answer is quick and in a very high pitched tone, though still soft enough so that not many would hear. She peeks at him through her fingers, not daring to lower her hands at all. “No, do not worry-- I am alright.”

He nods once, catching her gaze through her fingers, then holds his breath and pulls the garter the rest of the way down. It snags on her shoe, much to his horror, but he manages to untangle it after some fussing.

The crimson has spread to his ears and the back of his neck, and he finds it near-impossible to meet Cosette's eye after that, as if he is at fault for causing her much embarrassment in front of the guests. He does reach out for her hand, however, and entwines his fingers in hers, holding onto her as if he would fall apart if she let go.

Oh, but she could die of embarrassment as the garter snags on her shoe. She patiently waits for him to get it off and as soon as he grabs her hand? She squeezes back, holding his hand just as tightly. After a moment, she mentions quietly: “I believe you’re meant to throw it now, my love.”

His eyes widen at that, as if he had just realized that they are still in the middle of a customary practice. He flashes her a trembling smile of gratitude, his hand still in hers as he tosses the garter into the air.

He hopes it does not fall straight into anyone’s eye.

Marius gets white icing on his nose.

It is not Cosette's fault; rather, it is his own, for turning his head slightly to one side in a pitiful attempt to supposedly make it easier for his bride to get the cake into his mouth. He laughs nervously in embarrassment, then raises his own fork—the piece of cake is almost non-existent in it, for he desires not to smear icing on Cosette's face and he has always been rather clumsy—and raises it to her lips.

After the applause from the Capitol guests—and perhaps some Tributes too, Marius cannot tell from the glare of the light above them—slices of vanilla-flavored wedding cake is passed on to the tables for consumption.

The first dance opens with a waltz instrumental, which is obviously a Capitol wedding planner's attempts at incorporating the Paris of Marius and Cosette's days into the overall theme, given that neither of them has heard of the song until now.

In the middle of the newly-wed's dance, it begins to rain strips of paper, yellow-orange against the light. One of them slaps against Marius's face, and when he peels it off to read it, it says, in elegant script written in dark pen ink, "To be fond of dancing is a certain step towards falling in love."

The words of love on paper strips continue to rain even as the dance floor opens for the rest of the guests and the music takes on a more modern Capitol flavor, each strip presenting them with quotes spanning from relatively-recent years ("Love is the kind of thing you see if you sit in the darkness with open eyes, not knowing the future,") to eras of long, long ago. ("If you wish to be loved, love.")

There were still things to be seen, as the Capitol seemed to believe that the happy couple as the main attraction wouldn’t be nearly enough. A string quartet was notable as they played off in the corner and even more notable would be the firebreather that was intent on putting on an exciting show for anyone that would stop to watch him, interested or not.

There was plenty for the guests to entertain themselves with, much to their delight.

No wedding is complete without speeches and well-wishers, and for those who wish to toast the newlyweds, an Avox carrying a mic wrapped in dark-green vines and tiny, lily-white flowers is making rounds at the tables. The couple would appreciate a speech without scandalous implications, but honestly, whoever keeps their hopes up about that kind of thing are fools.

Other than speeches, the rest of the garden is open for most anything. Fancy a dip in the river? Or perhaps a bit of drunken chaos? Guests are free to explore, so long as they don't mind the potential gossip that may spread about them, oftentimes inflated and rarely accurate.

The stylists have done what they could with the limited time they had... and the style constraints. Formal wear still means suits, and so they could not -- in their minds, anyway -- play up the Creature's monstrousness or allude too much to what they see as his savagery.

If they couldn't cover his scars and sutures, they have at least covered up his red spots and bruises, and removed the patchy hair from his scalp, giving him a cleaner appearance. And he is wearing a suit, stylistically more in line with Marius and Cosette's time than modern day, with a high collar and a top hat. But the pièce de résistance, according to the stylists, is the cane they had fashioned for him: black and silver, and topped with a crystal skull. That, along with his cravat pin, hints at the color of his eyes.

For the Creature's part, he would not even be here if it hadn't been forced on him, and he is content to be left alone, which is how most of the Capitol citizens seem content to leave him. Still, he can't help noticing just how wide of a berth they give him when they notice him, or how they whisper to one another while still in earshot.

He chooses a seat at one of the few remaining empty tables, and examines the rose. Undoes the ribbon and smoothes it out in his hands to read the quote.

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.

He wants to fling the table over and set fire to the centerpieces.

Despite his own sudden and newfound anger at the Capitol, Jack still knew better than to refuse to come and pretend he was happy. Plus, it was a wedding, a social event, and he knew that his Tributes could use all the help they could get. If this included being a social butterfly, well, so be it.

So he's among the men in the garter line, all of them (well, some of them) looking ready to participate in catching that which had been around the fair Cosette's thigh. Looking at some of them, it was very clear some of them just wanted it for a souvenir. Fans, as it were.

Jack frowned. If he caught it, he would make sure it would be returned to Cosette expeditiously.

Wyatt didn't know the couple - recognized their faces only dimly from the Crowning, sitting beside the newest victor - and attending a stranger's wedding would have been low on his priority list even without... everything else. With it, it was at the very bottom.

Watching someone else be happy and in love.... But, of course, it was mandatory, so he sat through his stylists primping without a word, nodding along when it seemed appropriate to keep them happy. Figuring, at the very least, the sooner it started, the sooner it would end.

His escort cried at the ceremony, handsome stylish tears that sparkled down his cheeks - picking up the glitter he'd dusted himself with. Wyatt was silent and, but for the small jerk when Max appeared at the end of the aisle with the blushing, be-flowered bride on his arm, still. A hard cap on the sadness and hurt as the wedding dragged on.

By the time the reception started he'd been holding so tight to his thoughts and emotions, he was actually beginning to feel a bit numb. Like he'd cut off all the blood to his limbs and they responded now only out of habit. His hand taking a glass of champagne (between that and wine, the choice was equally unappealing) and his legs carrying him away from the tables and the chatter.

The gentle rush and splash of the water moving under the bridge wasn't quite enough to drown out the party, but he felt removed enough to breathe again. To sulk quietly by his lonesome, without fear of ruining anyone else's swell time.

(He had nothing against the couple. He just had no business being there.)

Edited 2013-12-28 18:57 (UTC)

Every time she has been upset in the Capitol, Eponine has delared to herself that that is it. That that is the worst she could possibly ever feel. That she was at rock bottom and things could only get better.

It seemed to her as if the Capitol were determined to prove her wrong.

She had been sick to the stomach since her escort had handed her her invitation, and glared at her with steely eyes and told her that she was going. She hadn't eaten. She had thrown up. She had cried and cried till there were no tears left and she was dry-sobbing noise into her pillow. And then she had run. She couldn't go. She couldn't... but Marius found her and asked her. So she had to come.

Numbly, she allowed her escort to dress her in black velvet number that accentuated her skinny waist and belled out over her hips, and she allowed her prep team to scrape back her lank, patchy hair and spray it till it shone. She allowed them to polish the cuff on her arm until it shone. And she allowed herself to be taken by the hand and led to the gardens.

Eponine had stood at the back, half hidden in the shadows as she watched Marius marry her. Her own eyes were red with tears: they burned, and they burned more as mascara got into them with her tears. With a heavy heart, she stood obediently to catch the bouquet and to watch him touch her leg - oh - her heart nearly broke! And she listened to speeches and saw the quartet and finally, finally sloped off to sit beneath a tree and simply sob the night away.

Among the girls corralled into the banquet toss was Homura. She didn't seem excited; rather, she decided that she wasn't going to catch the bouquet. She probably could have, if she felt like it, but in her mind, the wedding was little more than a means of keeping the populace's mind off of more important matters. Bread and circuses and sappy, romantic weddings.

So when the bouquet was tossed, she made a brisk trot towards it - slow enough to not actually catch it, but fast enough to make it look like she was trying. She also brought her hands up to heighten the illusion.

Wyatt wasn't the only one who was by the water.

Don, as usual, was thankful that his stylists couldn't fix him up the way that they could others, though in terms of clothing, even he couldn't escape being dressed up. He was slowly - very slowly - managing to at least look like he was feeling better, which guests picked up on (He's getting better! His melancholy is at last lifting!). And - much as he didn't know much about Marius, much less Cosette - he could tell that they were in love, or cared about each other deeply.

Your objective is to endure.

He had a glass of champagne as well for the toast, which - for the occasion - he did drink, as there wasn't much. He'd just managed to discretely give the glass to someone else before he could be given another glass (he refused to get drunk), when he spotted Wyatt. One of the few who'd been around as long as he had been. Who remembered nearly everything.

Quietly, he stood a few feet away on the same side of the bridge. It was a long silence before Don finally felt words come to him.

"Hi."

Edited 2013-12-28 19:13 (UTC)

He heard the footsteps coming and, fingers tightening on his glass, wished, for one selfish moment that they'd keep going. He just wanted to be left be.

Silly thing to hope for, here.

The footsteps slowed and stopped, and Wyatt took a deep breath, waiting as the silence stretched. Sighing, when it finally broke.

He supposed it could have been worse. Might have been a sponsor, or a fan, or....

"Evenin', Don."

Sigma had been enjoying himself as much as one could during a wedding of two complete strangers, until he decided to take a walk as the night was wearing thin and came across Eponine crying beneath the tree. Sighing hard, Sigma watched her a moment... he had never heard Eponine speak of Marius to him directly, but it did not take much thought to put together that the one she had been pining for had been the groom. The Doctor approached her hiding place tentatively, watching for her reaction. He was no good at comforting others, but at the very least, he would try for the girl.

Sigma bent down and squatted next to her in the dirt. "I once had a girlfriend dump me on Christmas..." he began uncertainly, rubbing his good eye. "She was the first girl I had ever been serious about. I'd never thought about getting married until we had started dating... and then, one night, she left me a message that she never wanted to see me again and that was that."

He folded his hands on his lap and looked down to the roots that spread beneath them. "It seems sad, but if she hadn't left me, I would have never met Diana. It is hard for a little while, but perhaps if you were not the one he loved, it was for the best... Try not to cry yourself sick, my dear." He reached out to put a hand on her back, to rub her and calm her until her tears died down.

"DON'T!" She flinched away when he tried to touch her. She looked up at Sigma, and fiercely wiped her cheeks of tears, leaving smears of mud behind.

"Sir, forgive me, but I do not care. I do not care about any of it. Please. Do not let me spoil your party. Go. Enjoy yourself."

She swallowed and shook her head even as her tears began again. "They destroy my dreams, this place. Not a single hope do I have left. I have nothing. Not even in my mind. And they make me watch as they take it away from me. Please, Sir. I just want to cry for a while. Please."

It had taken Ian a while to find Eponine. He had seen her plenty of times during the ceremony. Eyes red and black with tears. It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

He wondered if she had come to torture herself, or if the escorts had forced her to. Either way Ian felt for her.

When he finally tracked her down under the tree he handed her a glass of brandy as he slumped next to her. "Why are you still sober 'ponine?"

Edited 2013-12-29 01:28 (UTC)

Yeah. It could have been worse. Another long silence.

"...The couple looks happy."

As happy as they could be in this place.

Kevin really didn't get the point of this thing about throwing the garter. But apparently he was supposed to try to catch it. He tried to remember if Dad had done this when he married Yvette but came up blank. Maybe it was just a Capitol thing.

"What's a garter, anyway?"

It was not generally a thing when a new creature came to the Arena. By "creature", the Capitol of course meant "not human". It was even rarer when citizens of the Capitol looked at one of their "creatures" in an eye different from other Tributes.

For Don, even at his worst, when he practically snapped on national television he'd been nothing but adored by these people.

Now, he could actually feel a twinge of fear from the citizens as they passed by one table, something he can honestly not recall them exuding before. Not towards him. Not towards Some. Not even towards R or Wesker. This man scared them somehow.

Don didn't blame them. He felt the same that he'd felt towards Wesker, that interminable, base, gut instinct, that dread and worry. It was very clear also that the man exuded an aura of leave me the shell alone, and Don turned to do so. Unfortunately, it was at that time that one of his Escorts quietly elbowed his side, pointing to some photographers.

They wanted him to sit with--

He looked at his Escorts, who smiled back at him even when their eyes showed they wouldn't touch the man with a ten foot pole. And so, with a sigh, he quietly sat at the table, two seats away.

Even if he had to sit there, he knew better than to get much closer. It was the best compromise he could offer.

"Its a..." Jack suddenly realized that he didn't entirely know either. "...Its...a thing they put on brides' thighs! So they can throw it! Just like right now!"

There was a twitch at that, a quick jerk there in Wyatt's jaw, a muscle flexing as his back teeth ground together. Biting back the low stab he felt in his gut.

(In his chest.)

"A fine weddin', all things considered. Capitol knows how to throw themselves a party."

"But... Why?" If they did this at his dad's wedding, he was pretty sure now he hadn't been in the room.

Eponine's words stung, and Sigma realized his comfort had been more for his own sake than for hers. He drew his hand back as if she had bit him and he looked away from her with disappointment heavy in his eyes. He could not do much for anyone, after all; not for Howard or for Eponine when she was at her lowest, and he had forgotten how deeply she despised pity.

"I... I see," he said at last, expression hard, practiced from years of shutting others out. "Forgive me. I shall leave you, then." He stood to leave, hesitating a moment, hoping selfishly she would say something else to keep the two of them in conversation.

After being chased away by Eponine, Sigma stood dejectedly by the river with a glass of champagne, watching the water. The wedding had made him nostalgic for his own youth, the could-have-beens, and finding Eponine crying alone had only made things worse. He spied his own reflection and smiled wryly, turning away from the bank and downing the rest of his glass. As fun as it had been to pretend in the dream that he was still a young man, if Diana someday came here, there was no way she would recognize him nor want to be with him the way the newly wedded couple would spend the rest of their days.

He admitted to himself that he was jealous there could be love even during the Hunger Games, as there hadn't been much to treasure in his. The Doctor had done what he could to stave off loneliness and had ultimately failed. Awkwardly Sigma tried to catch the eye of whomever passed by, lifting his gaze to meet theirs long enough to invite conversation before looking away shyly. If he were honest with himself, he would know how pathetic he seemed, but worse than when Kyle pretended he didn't exist, worse than when there was only Akane to fill the void, worse than the years he'd spent locked away, Sigma felt alone.

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Page 1 of 14

[OPEN] WEDDINGS!

DINNER

BOUQUET TOSS

GARTER TOSS

CAKE CUTTING

FIRST DANCE/DANCING

RANDOM ENTERTAINMENT

TOASTING/OTHER

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