The Crowning Of Clara Murphy

[etcircenses]

Who| Everyone.
What| The Crowning of Clara Murphy
Where| A refurbished former-medical building within Capitol. 
When| Starting from late afternoon, going into the evening and late night.
Warnings/Notes| Don't forget, peacekeepers are on high alert and will notice any rebellious activity or odd behaviour. 

The theme of the ceremony is corruption and dystopia, with a distinct nod to futuristic aspects and, of course, robots. The room is stark, clean, and foreboding, all done in metallics, crisp whites, and the occasional bit of robotics set up as art. It speaks as an unholy cross between a medical office, a military base, and an extremely well kept prison.

The ceremony is both a chance for Capitolites to have fun and be grateful for the grand and glorious Panem which in no way exemplifies any attributes of dystopia, while also working as a not so subtle reminder to the troublemakers out there of what can happen when things get out of line. Which they surely won't, with all the peacekeepers around.

Tributes are dressed in all manner of thing incorporating chains, rope, caution tape, muzzles, bars and cages, prison stripes, and uniform orange-- all things reminiscent of imprisonment and restriction. Some tributes may be made to look scuffed up, like cartoon-ish depictions of hardened thugs. There are a few references to robotics, and that of evil and corrupt military men and police officers, but all tributes will be marked by some manner of cuff or chain that clearly denotes them as “criminals”.

They’ll also be given a “prison number” that is actually indicative of their district association and an arbitrary letter next to it, for example, someone from district six will have 06 and the first letter of their name. It will be temporarily tattooed somewhere visible on their skin. It can be washed off but it will take more scrubbing than would be done in a single day, let alone a crowning.

The only exceptions to these rules, are those who have been brought to the winner’s table; all those who can be deemed as cyborgs, scientists, and of course, the victor herself. Her throne sits at the head of the table, a robotic contraption that appears almost as though it might encase her. For a crown, Clara has been given one that seems to bear resemblance to a white picket fence, which, when made into a crown, looks far sharper than the idyllic home setting it’s meant to represent.

Avoxes are all dressed as members of the corrupt Detroit military police. The uniforms are naturally given a more sinister edge. None of them are comfortable. All of them are serving “Detriotto” staple foods.

Around the crowning, flat hologram projections of hockey games can be seen. They show the games of a team called “The Rouge Wings” and alternate that with the less spectacular showings of what appears to be a young boy’s hockey team. Commercials fill the times between promoting the work of Capitol’s peacekeepers, showing appreciation for them on an individual level, encouraging obedience in citizens with pleasant clips of peacekeepers speaking to children, and suggesting recruitment in the truly good and noble of Panem. Capitolites may nod along to these as they giggle at the sight of decorative signs, that are most certainly from Clara’s lesser world, about obeying, consuming, and so on, to a less than favourable government. A few posters feature Clara Murphy’s face in four colour palettes, all humorous jabs at dystopia proclaiming; “MOTHER MURPHY IS WATCHING YOU”.

But hockey games are not the only things that can be seen on the projection screens; if tributes take the time to look, they may see their own face projected above in profile and facing forward views like that of mug shots. Though, how the capitol has managed to get these pictures may be entirely a mystery. Besides these mugshots, criminal records are displayed, listing crimes from “lied to their parents” to petty theft to murder. Whether these records are true or not may be up for much debate.

In the mean time, there are plenty of things for party go-ers to do, such as take part in the David For A Day egg and spoon race, in which tributes will all have a chance to dress up (with wigs and matching clothing of all sizes!) as the mysterious David, compete against others, and should they win, be dubbed David For A Day, winning themselves a banner they can wear and a spot at the victor table.

There is also an obstacle course available dubbed the "Clarence Boddicker Memorial Prison Funhouse" designed to look, you guessed it, like a prison. Fun for all ages and demeanours!

For those looking for retreat, there’s a small section cut away from it all, designed to be a pleasant backyard patio setting opened to a starry night sky and small surrounding garden, in stark contrast to the rest of the place. There’s a small area for dancing in, that can really only accommodate one couple at a time, but is nevertheless perfect for a romantic scene. Only two songs play over speakers here, one perfectly fitting, the other a little more jarring. It’s also here that party go-ers can get their picture taken with a life sized ED-209. Many more much smaller ED-209’s can be seen around and within the crowning party. As well as the occasional roomba, which fans of the last arena will surely get a chuckle out of.

As the crowning nears it’s end, those at the victor’s table will be given paintball guns filled up with red paint. They will be ordered to bring the criminals to justice! The criminals being all the other tributes. Those hit with paint will be made to wait within the Memorial Prison Funhouse until all the criminals are apprehended and forced to do their time! No one will be allowed to go back to the tribute tower until all the criminals are caught.

Comments

Kankri Vantas

[privilegecheck]

A. First half of the Crowning

Kankri slumps self-consciously around the party, incredibly aware of how awful he looks and how exposed he is. Originally Claudia, D5's Stylist, had planned to put him in something nice that would match the Initiate, since they were friends and two trolls in the same District besides. They'd even had fittings for it. Claudia had been quite proud of herself for her work on it.

And then orders had come from higher up to put him in something very, very... different. And Claudia had apologized the whole time she'd put it on him, but he knew there wasn't much she could do about it.

His hands are shackled together in cuffs modeled on Karkat's sign, and the metal has been made to look red hot. He's also shirtless, which would be bad enough because everyone can see his grubscars and he feels so incredibly self-conscious - but worse, bright red stripes have been painted on his back to make it look as though he's been whipped. His tattoo of "005K" is set into the small of his back, clearly visible under the livid crimson marks. He wasn't even allowed shoes; all he has on are a pair of artistically shabby pants. Overall, it's humiliating in the highest degree, and he's basically slouching around the party attempting not to be noticed.

And of course it's incredibly uncomfortable trying to pick things up to eat and drink with his hands bound together. He can already tell that tonight is going to be pure discomfort in all ways possible, and mostly he just stares around glumly.


B. Later in the evening

After a few hours, when it starts to get chilly, Kankri is finally given some reprieve from his outfit in the form of an enormous and fluffy red scarf, which he has looped around his shoulders and upper arms several times (with some assistance, since his hands are still bound). It doesn't do a great job of covering him up, but it's at least something, and it makes him a little more willing to make a showing of himself like he's supposed to. Some people he even goes up to to say hello!

Re: Kankri Vantas

[dingadong]

"Please tell me those irons around your wrists are not as red-hot as they look," the human man in the thief's costume with the pale blond pompadour says, frowning. "I'm personally willing to go through some degree of pain for the sake of fashionable--" He pronounces it more as 'fashionabluh' "--but this is ridiculous."

[privilegecheck]

"They aren't," Kankri replies with a little shrug. "It's just the usual sort of uncomfortable. They wouldn't want to harm us at a very public party." At least, not so far. With the current political climate, who knows.

[dingadong]

The man with the pompadour nods. "I suppose they wouldn't," he agrees quietly. "It was spoil the festivities. Still, it does seem inconvenient. Is there anything I can help you with?"

[privilegecheck]

Kankri shrugs. "I'm managing." He already hates having to ask anyone else to help him take care of himself, after being raised as a cull. With a stranger, it's unthinkable. "You seem to have made out well."

A

[burnedbrighter]

Azula appears almost out of nothing in a red and black outfit that looks more like constricting armor then a prisoners uniform. Chains and locks decorate her ankles and wrists as she studies him with an appraising eye.

"I don't care for it." she decided on his outfit. "I don't care for it and I don't care for how much interference the higher ups are having with our district."

She hadn't given Kankri as much time as the other tributes due to his more timid nature, but it was time to rectify that situation. He needed the support.

[privilegecheck]

Kankri looks down. He doesn't mind Azula; she's harsh, but fair, and she's never seemed to notice him much past when he first arrived. It's a surprise to have her come over and address him, but not an unpleasant one.

"I don't much like it either," he says quietly. He can't imagine that the people who ordered this don't know the significance of it, the implied threat behind it. It makes his skin crawl. "Poor Claudia was very upset."

He looks back up at her, a touch shyly. "You look very nice, though, despite the unfortunate theme they're using for tonight. Er...did you want something, Azula?" He can't imagine what, but he knows Azula doesn't do much without reason by now.

[burnedbrighter]

Poor Claudia indeed. Azula would have to give her a visit after the party, probably with some wine.

"Just checking up with you. I must confess you tend to slip below my radar and that is a failure on my part as your mentor. So lets hear how things have been going?"

It's not so much guilt as it is her realizing her quest to be the best mentor will never be complete if she continues to leave him to fend for himself all the time.

[privilegecheck]

Kankri shrugs. "As well as they can, I suppose. You know I'm not Victor material, but apparently the Capitol finds me worth keeping around anyway. I've been making an effort to at least learn some self-defense." Because while he's a pacifist, Kankri's time here has taught him that he'd really rather not be a martyr.

"...How have things been for you?"

A

[69problems]

No. No, no no. How could anyone -- anyone -- think that what Kankri's wearing is acceptable?

He knows the answer of course. It's textbook Capitol to take a personal trauma and treat it like a fashion statement. It still makes his blood boil, makes all that anger he's been carefully managing and holding back suddenly surge up in his throat and burn behind his eyes. Kankri lived the memories of the execution when he got his Seer powers back in the museum arena and it nearly broke him, he shouldn't need to wear it now like it's a costume.

"How dare they," he hisses, and then he surges forward and gets his hands on those damned shackles. "How dare they. These are coming off. Now."

[privilegecheck]

As Signless tugs, the shackles stay solidly in place. "They won't come off," Kankri says gloomily. "They're locked until the Crowning is over. I'm sorry."

He looks up at the other troll, a plaintive expression in his eyes. "I'm- I'm quite all right. It's just a costume." A costume that doubles as a veiled threat.

[69problems]

"It isn't, you know it isn't," he says through clenched fangs, making absolutely no motions toward letting go of the shackles -- at least entirely. He does reach up with one hand to remove one of the pins keeping his scarf Just So. There must be a lock on these that he can pick. There must be something.

"It's a disgusting display of just how little respect they have for any of us."

[privilegecheck]

"Signless, please, it's okay, I'm okay," Kankri pleads. "I'll get in trouble if I manage to get remove them anyway, this wasn't even my Stylist's choice - I'll be fine. You needn't worry about me."

He really doesn't want Signless getting in trouble on his behalf. That would be the topping to the shit sundae that is this Crowning. As much as he'd like to have those cuffs off, he can bear it if he doesn't get his friends in trouble.

B

[onedirectiony]

Loki remembers him, though. He was the face of someone he had killed in the arena. He considered not approaching him, but then decided that maybe it would be a good idea to attempt to make some sort of amends. After all, he seemed to be a friend of Dave's, and if Loki wanted to continue working towards doing well in this game, he needed to make sure that he got along well with Dave's friends.

He approached him, making sure that he was not making any attempt to sneak, and he was the one to lift up his hand (a chain hanging from the shackles) in a hello.

"So, about the arena..."

[privilegecheck]

Kankri recognizes the boy approaching him, and of course he feels some trepidation. Loki was the one who killed him this time, after all. But he's not nearly as tense as he would be around Justin - Loki didn't draw it out, kill off those close to him, make his death a grisly affair. It was what it was, and that was all. A means to an end. Kankri doesn't resent him for it, though he knows that perhaps he should.

"Yes?" He almost mirrors the gesture, but when both his hands move he remembers the shackles and lowers them again.

[onedirectiony]

"It isn't personal. And I didn't know you were Dave's friend." Or friendly with Dave. He wasn't actually completely sure "Or I would have stopped." This is the worst part, really. And now he almost felt like he had to somehow make amends because if he wanted to fit in with Dave's friends (or whatever they were).

"And those shackles look like they suck."

a!

[reassures]

Nill got off a lot luckier than Kankri had, honestly; though her heels are locked and impossible for her to get off on her own, and part of her dress is an over-glorified collar, the shackles around her wrists aren't attached to anything, only having a few chain links dangling from each. The only thing she's really had to deal with that's particularly binding is the metal band around her chest, keeping her wings pinned uncomfortably against her back, a padlock holding it all in place, her hair braided and to the side so her back is more visible. It could be so much worse.

That's why when she walks over to Kankri her expression is of the utmost empathy, which might look a little odd, considering the lines drawn on her lips meant to look like stitches, and the black 09H on her left cheek. But when she gets close enough she holds up a notepad for him to look at, something already written on it.

Can I get anything for you?

Trying to do much of anything on his own here with his hands like that had to be incredibly difficult. she might even be able to get him a tablecloth or something if he wanted.

[privilegecheck]

Normally, Kankri would refuse. He doesn't like being taken care of without his say-so, by people who don't know him, people who think he's their responsibility whether he likes it or not. But something in Nill's expression and manner tells him that she understands - that she wants to help just to help, not because she thinks he can't do anything himself.

"I...maybe something to eat," he mumbles, staring down at his hands. "It's a bit difficult to hold a plate like this, let alone put anything on one. If you wouldn't mind, I'd...I'd appreciate it."

He scuffs his bare foot against the floor, then looks back up at her again. Since he knows Kurloz, whose mouth is actually stitched together, he can recognize that Nill's "stitches" were painted on. Still, her method of communication makes him wonder. "Can you not speak?" he asks, tilting his head slightly as he regards her. "It's all right if you can't. I just...all of that," he gestures abortively in the direction of her face, "seems a bit redundant if you already can't talkk. Not that the Capitol isn't all about pointless, meaningless gestures," he sighs. "I'm sorry, I'm babbling. Er, are you new?"

[reassures]

A small smile spreads across her face, and she nods, glad that he doesn't mind the offer, that he's even accepting. She doesn't know him, obviously, but she's known a lot of people who constantly and consistently refused help of any kind whenever offered, so much so that it's the first reaction she expects from people.

It's a little obvious that she gets the question a lot, because her expression doesn't change at all, and she doesn't seem particularly bothered by it. She starts writing a reply immediately, but when he keeps talking she stops and giggles, which is obvious more by the way it looks than the way it sounds.

I can't speak. it's a little silly.

Next to the word 'silly' there is a little doodle of a curved line and the stitches, a smile.

I don't mind.
I've been here for a week.
What kind of food do you like?

A

[beastlybeauty]

"Well, that doesn't look very practical."

Justine is carrying around a (virgin, because of the injuries) cocktail and taking a sip when she sees poor Kankri trying to hold a glass with his bound hands. And fumbling.

"Did your stylist bind your hands up like that on purpose?" She frowns and reaches out (as if instinctively, but it's perfectly calculated) to steady his glass in his hands before he drops it. "You will freeze out here.

[privilegecheck]

"She was asked to. She was quite unhappy about it," Kankri replies with a little shrug. "She already had another outfit mostly fitted for me. You know how Stylists dislike having their artistic license infringed upon."

He's not sure how to take Justine steadying the glass for him; he's grateful, but having his space infringed upon is still something he's very conscious of. He decides not to mention it, beyond a quietly murmured thanks.

"She did at least promise me that when it gets cooler she has a scarf to put on me, but I'm meant to do some time for the cameras first." He gives Justine a small smile. "I hope you're finding your evening a bit less inconvenient than mine?" He speaks lightly, as if being dressed for an execution isn't intensely disturbing for him.

[beastlybeauty]

"Well, you know how it is in the Capitol. Another day, another party. I find that they become tedious after a while."

Which is a weird thing for a Capitolite to say. Usually, they like parties, or at least don't verbalize their dislike. Justine doesn't mind being a little off. She's always been a little off.

She touches her arm, gesturing for him to walk with her. "Here, there's a nice quiet spot in the back where people aren't milling around. Maybe we can warm up a little there while the cameras have their fun with everyone else, hm?"

A - here we go finally they can meet

[onthelii2p]

When Sollux sees Kankri, it's not the outfit he reacts to. He's met the Signless by now, sure, but what interactions they've shared have decidedly not covered the manner of his death. No one else has told him, either. Instead, it's the horns. He knows there's a third Vantas running around. He knows about Beforus. He's met another dancestor before. He knows, too, that Karkat didn't come back after the start of the arena. But still, a part of him wants to hope in spite of logic and his own tendency to pessimism. He just hates the thought that he might never see Karkat again.

With that in mind he approaches, clad in a much more covering outfit of his own (with chains rather than strings of beads, and the obligatory tattoo on the back of his right wrist). But what he says is, "Are you... the third Vantath? The one from Beforuth?"

He's heard his name before, but doesn't remember it. Maybe in asking this way it will mitigate the inevitable disappointment.

[privilegecheck]

Kankri thinks along very similar lines, when he turns to see Sollux looking at him. It's Mituna, but not so scruffy and disheveled. And yet it's not - none of the gleeful exuberance, and he sounds so reserved where Mituna would be brash and self-assured.

"Kankri," he replies after an awkward moment. "I'm Kankri, yes. You would be the Alternian Captor, I assume? Karkat's friend?"

At least it's kind of nice to have someone not staring at him in horror for the outfit. The sympathy was nice at first, but now it makes him feel like an object, and of course all the Capitolites cooing over what a poor little thing he is only makes it feel worse. Being dressed for an execution is bad enough without everyone seeing only that.

[onthelii2p]

Now that Kankri turns, he sees the differences more clearly. Something in the posture and certain things of physique, but though he looks older that is not a factor he counts. There are similarities aplenty, enough that it's uncanny as he looks at him head-on. It takes him a moment even after his reply to find his words again.

"Yeah, both." What hope was on his face dies out. He can't hide it; he's disappointed. "Thollukth."

Now what?

Really, now what? He didn't think past this stage, and he feels stupid for not doing so. He knows next to nothing of this guy save that he's from a failed session that spawned Alternia, and that he's another version of the Signless, with whom he doesn't really get along. They had a short, civil conversation on the Lonestar post and that was the only one of three so far. He doesn't sound a lick like Karkat either - something different without all the yelling, and the wording, and the tone, and the attitude. He doesn't know what to make of him.

He scuffs his boot on the floor. "Shitty party, huh?"