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

[aintyourdad]

Joel snorted. "Looks like just fancy colorin'. Long as they're not bein' cut with water, I suppose it'll be alright." He grabbed one of the least-garish-looking things. Supposedly something like super speed, it was a dark orange in color.

He sipped at it, a contemplative look on his face.

"I'd still prefer straight bourbon," he complained lightly.

[the_marshal]

Wyatt had a flash, remembering a crowning back, the drinks that had bubbled and boiled, as black as tar, smoking ominously -- but remembering their talk of poisoned chocolate in the arena, he decided it was best maybe not to mention it.

Instead he slanted Joel a look, offering a sharp nod of approval.

"A man after my own heart," he rumbled. "Ya get tired of these--" he gestured to the table in front of them with two fingers, "--ya should go by The Speakeasy."

[aintyourdad]

"Speakeasy?" Joel snorted faintly. "Sounds real old-school. If the liquor's good, though, I might give it a try. Not too touristy, is it?"

He couldn't imagine Wyatt frequenting a tourist trap bar, but you never know.

[the_marshal]

If Wyatt had recognized the term, he might have been a bit insulted, but as it was, he just snorted, low and amused.

"Old enough to make these ol' bones feel right at home," he chuckled, that sound like stones rubbing together in the depths of his throat. "It's a good place for tributes, they don't poke at ya as much. They're decent."

Which, unfortunately, was quite the compliment in this place.

[aintyourdad]

"That's the best you can hope for around here," Joel agreed. Strong booze, and a place where he wouldn't get mobbed with either well-wishers or people who thought he was terrible.

"How have you put up with it for so long? The attention, I mean. I feel like I'm goin' crazy and I've only been in the city for a few weeks."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt considered some licorice, long black strands apparently meant to look like whips of some sort, but passed it up for one of the small sandwiches, cut into shapes like stars and shields.

Chewing, he shrugged helplessly.

"As much as I hate to say it,... ya kind'a get used to it. An' really," he head tipped, mouth twisted wryly. "They ain't all so bad. Some of 'em, they mean well, they jus' don't know any better."

Like kids, never reigned in, never taught their p's and q's.

[aintyourdad]

Joel had to shake his head at that statement. On one hand, he could understand it in theory. Not knowing any better, that is - in the same way Ellie only knew a world of infected, and had no concept of how things were before, so she thought everything that was important to kids back then was stupid or frivolous.

It was, but it had been okay, because life had been better.

On the other hand, the treatment of such wanton brutality like it was just a game was pretty far beyond even Joel's conception of decency - and Joel did not think of himself as a decent man, all things considered.

"You'd think with all the tributes they're bringin' in, complainin' about how shitty the system is, some of 'em would wake up," he muttered.

[the_marshal]

"Some of 'em have," Wyatt said. "But the problem is, even when they do, there ain't much they can do 'bout it either."

Moving down along the table, lest they get boxed in by hungry party-goers, he nodded toward the Victor's court. The area set apart from the rest where Mindy and her closest would sit, where a gaggle of faceless Peacekeepers kept guard over Snow and the other men and women of power.

"Panem ain't so different from any other place. Those in control ain't never particularly keen on givin' it up."

[aintyourdad]

"Even where I come from, I can't imagine the people in charge condoning shit like this," Joel pointed out with a shake of his head. "'Course, there's not really enough people left to do it. The military's corrupt, but they're not total idiots."

[the_marshal]

"As I understand the story, there was a war some seventy-years back 'tween the Capitol and the districts. The districts lost an' the Capitol came up with the Games as their punishment," Wyatt explained, slanting Joel a side-long look that said exactly how much bullshit he thought that to be.

He knowing it, he still didn't see how anyone could decide murdering children was a fair response to a bloody war.

"Once a year, two kids from each district brought in to do what we're doin' now. Only they never brought the kids back."

[aintyourdad]

"Looks a helluva lot more like a circus than a punishment," Joel said with a rueful shake of his head. In a way, though, that did put a little more perspective on things - a little bit more about why some Capitol citizens were so glad they were kidnapping people from other worlds now.

Instead of killing their own, permanently.

"That's definitely sick and twisted," he pointed out after a moment. "There's gotta be a resistance, though. Can't imagine folks'd just roll over and let their kids be killed."

He wouldn't.

[the_marshal]

"Careful, now."

Wyatt's voice dropped sharply, barely audible over the scream of the toy guns, and the crush of the crowd.

"Talk like that in here, you'll end up like them."

He nodded toward an Avox, silent and still, staring ahead as if it couldn't see anything.

He leaned a step closer.

"They listen, even when ya can't see 'em. Here, in your rooms, on the street. Remember that."

[aintyourdad]

Well, in a way, that answered the unspoken question. If rebellion wasn't something the government was concerned with, it wouldn't be a big deal to talk about it. Clearly, that wasn't the case.

Joel suspected as much.

But he wasn't about to nose his way into any of that shit. Because that's what it was - a great big pile of shit, that sucked people in and killed them. Permanently. And he had Ellie to look after.

"Tough to imagine,, that. Creepy as hell, too," he muttered with a shake of his head. "Ah well. I'm just feelin' proud I convinced the stylist not to mess with my beard."

Good change of subject. facial hair. Wyatt could appreciate how a man's facial hair was sacred.

[the_marshal]

To his credit, Wyatt didn't stumble over the sudden change of direction. He merely took another bite of his sandwich and nodded as he chewed.

"It's a give an' take, with that lot," he replied after he swallowed, following the new conversation as easily as if they'd been talking about stylists the whole time. "Give 'em a little room somewhere else--" he gestured with his free hand to the jacket, "--and they'll do the same for you where it really matters."

That's how he'd kept them from shaving him now like a newborn babe.

[aintyourdad]

Joel nodded, pointing to his ridiculously-styled hair with all the gel in it. "This was the compromise," he said with a shrug. "I still don't get it, but it don't hurt nothin'. Except maybe my pride, a little."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt gave his hair a second look, snorting in amusement.

"Ya got lucky there, friend. That's downright tame. This one time, after my third, er four, arena, there was this party where they wanted me to parade around all but buck-naked, in front'a God an' everybody an' they wanted to shave me down smooth as baby's bottom."

He gave himself a shake at the mere memory.

"The best I could do was to agree to the outfit so long as they left all my bits were they were."

He was man damnit. Men had hair on their chests. Whatever the stylist had seemed to think.

[aintyourdad]

Joel gave Wyatt a horrified look. "They wanted to shave you everywhere?" Yeah, that was just unnatural. And the thought of being almost naked in a crowd of people like this was enough to make him shudder slightly.

[the_marshal]

"'Esthetically displeasin','" he said, words obviously drawn from a sharp, crystal clear memory. "They said, as if I could give a flyin' buffalo chip."

As if it didn't actually find that a bit comforting.

He got attention enough as it was.

"They wouldn't lasted a day back home, the flowers."

[aintyourdad]

Joel snorted. "They don't know what they're talkin' about, anyway. Not like I ever had much trouble..."

Well, to be fair, he never tried much. It was just Tess, for a long, long time. He could imagine her face when presented with the prospect of Joel being shaved down from head to toe, and it made him simultaneously want to laugh and cry.

[the_marshal]

Wyatt shook his head, commiserating, but then he sighed.

"'Spose we shouldn't complain too much, we might be exactly what they wanted an' then we'd never hear the end of it."

[aintyourdad]

"I'm pretty sure either way we'll never hear the end of it. They just gotta have their say no matter what," Joel said with a humorless bark of laughter. "When we're not up to their standards, they gotta complain about us, and when we are, they gotta fawn over us. Either way, it's attention I don't really want."

[the_marshal]

Snorting, Wyatt gave Joel a clap on the back with his free hand, tucking a mouthful of roast beef and soft bread into his cheek.

"Welcome to the club, friend. I wish I could tell ya it stops, but it don't. Some of the shine wears a bit, the longer yer here an' new, excitin' tributes arrive, but nobody ever forgets an' you'll always have folks comin' up on ya 'bout somethin' er other."

Best Joel could likely hope for was for a district-mate who enjoyed the dress-up and kept the teams busy enough to let Joel slide by.

[aintyourdad]

"Just what I always wanted," he said sarcastically. "Folks all up in my business. Can't say I've ever had the experience of talkin' to a stranger who already knows my name, before comin' here."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt was silent for a moment, chewing quietly.

"That's a bit double-edged," he mused after he swallowed. "No, ain't especially pleasant, but it could be worse. If didn't talk 'bout ya at all, they might decide ya weren't worth keepin' around."

He looked at Joel, a serious edge coming into his eyes, hardening his gaze.

"They never bring everybody back. Every arena, there's always a few, nobody ever sees again."

[aintyourdad]

"So we're all playin' a popularity contest, is what you're sayin?" Joel asked, raising his eyebrows.

He thought he'd probably already lost that, but he supposed there was no accounting for taste.