The Crowning of Mindy McReady

[etcircenses]

Who| Everyone who's anyone.
What| The Crowning.
Where| A warehouse on the edge of town.
When| Starting from early evening till late into the night.
Warnings/Notes| Be sure to check the linked thread for plot purposes, even if you don't tag into it.

The party is brightly colored.

The theme, subtly, is super heroes. Boldly paints city scapes are splattered across the walls, and hallways are made to look like dingy, potentially crime ridden alleys. From the upper walkways of the warehouse, party goers can get hooked into harnesses and swing out over the dance floor. Above them, tributes and VIPS can find themselves on a clear plastic dance floor levitated above everything, looking like they're hanging in air.

Masks are passed out in plenty, and capes are easy to find, while brightly colored drinks themed around super powers are plentiful. None of them actually work, but many of the Capitol people are happy to pretend, mocking super strength or invisibility with each new beverage.

Under the dance floor a catacomb of tunnels and rooms full of obstacles is splashed with black light receptive colors. Party goers are given vests and laser guns, marked green for villains and red for heros, and set loose to hunt each other in the laser tags playground. The screens in the dance floor keep a running tally of which side is winning, displaying the players on the screens around the room, along with clips from the arenas.

About half way through the night, everyone is gathered to the main stage for a special announcement.

Comments

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[hanssome]

This place really enjoys having Hans hit the ground running with his improv acting, doesn't it? At the very least, it's not hard to act surprised under these sort of circumstances. Hans watches carefully, eyes filled with confusion, almost holding his breath until the Hostess reads up to District 5. There's a momentary eye twitch and thinly veiled annoyance before his expression turns to something more like a princely deer in the headlights.

His arms are folded tightly over his chest and he worries his bottom lip, giving the perfect outward appearance of being in shock. In his mind, he's almost glad to have been chosen. This Arena is far more intimate. There are more chances for him to shine and maybe, just maybe, he'll finally achieve something his brothers wouldn't have dreamed of accomplishing.

With his mind so heavily focused on preening himself, he barely hears Elsa's name called. It's only looking to Anna that has him realising just what that entails. He'll cast a worried glance toward the Queen before looking amongst the crowd bitterly, as if looking to share how annoyed and disappointed the majority of them are.

[sithcretapprentice]

Starkiller doesn't know exactly what to think as the announcement begins. Annoyed, angry. Maybe a little thrilled at the distinct possibility to recover from the embarrassment that was the last arena. But then the list of tributes is listed one by one, and he isn't one of them.

But Hans is.

That much has him angry. He's worked so hard with the other man, banked entirely on having him on his side, that... Separation isn't something he accounted for. Starkiller knows he's very much the strength of the two of them, so he isn't sure how Hans is going to fair alone, without him. But at the same time, he's helped him. They've helped each other. He knows Hans has a shot at this, but. It's just not ideal.

However he feels, though, he's quick to find the other man in the crowds, stopping in front of him. He can tell the other man doesn't look particularly pleased, which matches Starkiller's own less than happy expression.

"The odds aren't in our favor again," he says, unable to stop himself from mocking this place's idiotic slogan thing. "Are... you alright?" He's not used to asking of other people's feelings, but considering how this was thrown on everyone, he figures he might as well try and be nice. Even if he isn't particularly good at it. It feels weird, considering they're dressed in such ridiculous outfits. He would rather not be having this when he's dressed in a skintight outfit that makes him feel extremely exposed. But what can you do?

[hanssome]

At first, Hans hadn't even considered their alliance. He'd thought about every tribute in the Arena, who he thought he might have a chance against, but it wasn't for a while that he realised his most valuable alliance will be meaningless here. He hasn't had as much experience as many others have with Arenas, he hadn't realised how much he'd been banking on Starkiller's assistance. Without his help, he isn't sure how long he'll last against the more talented tributes.

As if he knows he's being talked about, Starkiller seemingly appears out of nowhere. He's stealthy for someone as big as he is, surprisingly subtle for a man head to toe in red spandex. When he turns to face the other man, he's worrying his bottom lip, making his nerves obvious as he steps toward him.

"Stark.." That isn't an answer. He doesn't want to answer the question, really. He'll just exhale loudly, dramatically and in utter exasperation as he slumps his head forward so it bumps against the broad chest of the other man. "I have a bad feeling about this."

[sithcretapprentice]

Starkiller isn't one for being close to people most days, but when he catches sight of Hans' expression, he doesn't particularly mind when the other man steps close. He figures it's the least he can do, to let Hans closer if that's what makes this easier for him.

He doesn't take into consideration that Hans might do something like that. His mouth falls open a little, unsure what to do as Hans bumps his forehead against his chest. It's with slight hesitation that he brings his hand up and places it on Hans' shoulder, giving him what he hopes it a comforting pat.

"I do too," he admits. "But you've trained hard." There's a twinge of bitterness in his voice. They've trained together, the entire motivation had been to work together to try and get as far as possible and now that isn't possible. "You'll be fine, Hans. If you look too upset, they're going to think you're an easy kill."

Before he can stop himself, "And you're not," he adds. "Far from it."

[hanssome]

It's in baby steps that Hans has seen Starkiller break out of the shell he'd readily established. He doesn't know if it's his influence specifically or if that awkward, gentle-natured man was always lurking under the surface of someone posturing so much intimidation and acting so unimpressed despite himself. Whatever the answer, he's satisfied by the hand on his shoulder more than he's comforted by it.

His hum doesn't indicate anything but quiet appreciation of the contact, wanting Starkiller to feel encouraged to reach out like that. If he were dismissive, he may never do it again. "It must be bad if you're comforting me." He pulls back so he can give him a sly smile, trying to put his worries behind him as he does. "I guess this means I won't be sleeping in anymore."

[sithcretapprentice]

While Starkiller probably doesn't realize it, the truth is that Hans really is the reason he's come out of his shell. It's hard not to, when Hans constantly pushes him in that regard. He does it subtly enough that it's sort of been a natural progression, with a few hesitations along the way.

He lets out a small chuckle at the reply, though it's not as amused as it could be. He doesn't let Hans' shoulder go, keeping his hand there in a light grip as they talk. "Ideally, no, you'll be up early as ever every day."

With his other hand, he takes Hans by the other shoulder and pushes him back, keeping him at arms length with both hands on his shoulders as he keeps his gaze on him. "Don't worry too much, Hans. Regardless of what happens, our alliance won't end. Maybe I can find some way to help you from outside. Find you sponsors, at least get you food sent. Anything but a pastry."

Is he being comforting? God, he doesn't know. He's trying. This is hard.

[hanssome]

The fact that he's maintaining contact for so long is promising. It's behaviour he's never really seen from Starkiller, so he can only imagine it's a product of the circumstances, perhaps just slightly influenced by Hans introducing friendly arm pats to him as often as he can.

"Well if this doesn't warrant a sleep in, nothing will." He scoffs, watching Starkiller's hands as they grab his shoulders and trying not to look surprised. No time for that, too busy looking doe eyed and worried, right? That's how anyone would look at a time like this. Anyone but Starkiller, probably.

"I'm not worried." He'll follow that with a faint laugh, knowing it's as unbelievable as he's presenting it to be. "With your guidance, I can defend myself better than I ever hoped to. Even without projectiles, this time." There's a wry smile as he returns the joke. He raises a hand to rest on one of Starkillers, as if he's the one who needs the assurance right now. "I'm a favourite, Stark. I'm sure I'll be fine as far as sponsors go. But if we're going to be realistic, I'm not sure you're the best man for making approaches on my behalf." He arches a brow, only half joking.

[sithcretapprentice]

The last thing Starkiller would look is doe-eyed and worried. The idea of going into an arena doesn't scare him. Going head-first into assured death hasn't ever been something he's feared. But in this case? He's slightly worried, for Hans' sake. The other man doesn't have nearly the experience he has. He can only hope their training actually does pay off.

He chooses to ignore the sleeping comment. At this point, he has the feeling that this is going to be one of those things they bicker about for the distant future and he isn't quite sure how to feel about it. Wake one guy up and steal his blanket and suddenly he has the biggest grudge on you. If Hans were Japanese it would lead to a very intense horror movie. Thankfully he's vaguely Danish and Starkiller doesn't have to worry about anything like that.

Any other time, he might get offended at what Hans says next, but given the circumstances it only rubs him slightly the wrong way. "I think you're underestimating me," he says, finally letting his hands fall away from the other man's shoulders. "But fine, I won't try and get you sponsors. I think given the consequences of their favor towards you, you might consider being a little more unlikable though. Just a thought."