Panem Events (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
etcircenses) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-10-10 08:11 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thecapitol2014-10-10 08:11 pm
Entry tags:
- aang,
- albert heinrich,
- black tom cassidy,
- cassandra marko,
- clara murphy,
- commander shepard,
- event: crowning,
- harley quinn,
- jet link,
- molotov cocktease,
- roland deschain,
- sam wilson,
- sigma klim,
- terezi pyrope,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- ✘ alex murphy,
- ✘ aragorn,
- ✘ azula,
- ✘ bro strider,
- ✘ brock samson,
- ✘ bruce banner,
- ✘ bucky barnes (mcu),
- ✘ carlos the scientist,
- ✘ clementine,
- ✘ cyrus reagan,
- ✘ dale "barbie" barbara,
- ✘ dave strider,
- ✘ davesprite,
- ✘ gary epps,
- ✘ homura akemi,
- ✘ joel,
- ✘ jolie,
- ✘ justine 'locusta' florbelle,
- ✘ kankri vantas,
- ✘ kenny mccormick,
- ✘ korra,
- ✘ lyle norg,
- ✘ mindy macready,
- ✘ nasir,
- ✘ natasha romanoff (mcu),
- ✘ nico di angelo,
- ✘ nill,
- ✘ oswald mandus,
- ✘ pruna,
- ✘ raphael,
- ✘ ringabel,
- ✘ ruffnut thorston,
- ✘ sif,
- ✘ skye,
- ✘ sollux captor,
- ✘ stephanie rogers,
- ✘ stephen reagan,
- ✘ steve rogers,
- ✘ tess,
- ✘ thor odinson,
- ✘ tony stark,
- ✘ venus dee milo,
- ✘ zuko
The Crowning Of Clara Murphy
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.
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.
no subject
He leads in the dance, and she follows. Her thoughts are a little more occupied than his, despite her efforts not to think about her feelings or his avoxing or any number of other troubles they might have. But the silence hangs between them as they dance, and it's rather difficult not to think.
At least until he twirls her. She spins much more gracefully than she used to, but when she returns, there's a smile on his lips that she hadn't noticed before. It's the same smile that she caught before across the network; the same smile with the same softness to it. Having it directed at her is disarming, making her stomach drop in a way that is confusingly pleasant and terrifying at the same time.
Rather than confront him about it, she ducks her head and bumps it against his chest. "Did you know I'm going to be a flower girl?" she asks, making small talk to distract them both.
no subject
It doesn't matter that she's an atheist. It don't matter that they're literally a millenia apart in sweeps of their respective times. It doesn't matter that she's got a whole life and future miraculous, doing such good on things he knows she'll make come, what was never supposed to have him part of it.
She's precious to him. And he can't forgive himself for that mark on her.
When she bumps her head against his chest, he worries she might hear the strain on his pusher. She doesn't it. He blinks, head tilting.
"FLOWER GIRL?" He repeats. "Thought you was a tree girl."
no subject
"It's actually a human tradition. Albert and his matesprit are going to get human married. It's a thing that they do to make their romance official, and there is a huge party involved. Albert wants me to be part of the ceremony. I get to dress up and throw flower petals on everything."
"It is a very important part," she adds with solemn pride. She is going to be the best flower girl ever, so help her.
no subject
"DON'T FIGURE THEY'D LET THIS MOTHERFUCKER GET ON APPEARANCE TO SUCH THINGS?" He asks. "Watch a tree go to bloom. IF SHE'D NOT MIND ALSO."
He really shouldn't ask. Things won't stay quiet long. She'll find out and everything will be as to fall the fuck apart.
"He's sure she'll do miraculous up all either motherfucking way."
no subject
"I'm sure they'd let you come!" She grips his hand a little tighter. "It's a party, after all. I don't think they would mind. And I would mind if you weren't there." She pauses, just long enough to flash him a silly grin. "Who else would I have to dance with, right?"
no subject
He wants to keep like this all night. He wants to step a little closer.
He sighs and stops, staying where he is. The hand he holds to dance with, he lifts. Just the softest peck, ain't have to mean no thing. Except what it does. But she ain't gotta know.
She does need to know other business. He lowers her hand, smile slipping away, and says, "OUGHT TO TELL... I did something, sister..."
no subject
Just like she enjoys the kiss he plants on her hand. Another thing that she's forced to keep to herself.
And then that smile is fading from his lips, and it pulls hers away as well. A worried frown replaces it as she tries to sort out what he might mean. "Did something? Like what?"
no subject
He trails off. He's sure she can imagine how the Signless might respond. But how can he word this so it ain't treacherous. So he ain't a traitor utmost, a liar, a deceiver, a disgusting motherfucking...
"There was peacekeepers up everywhere. WAS GOING TO SNAP HE WAS. I didn't..."
He lets go of her. He steps back and draws his hands all to himself.
"I PAPPED HIM," He says at last. It's a miserable note. Defeated where all he tried so hard to move on and, apparently, just couldn't. "I went all to shush him and talk the fuck down. IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN, I'M SORRY. I'm sorry..." Perhaps it'd be wrong to say he sounds like an avox considering avoxes ain't supposed to make sound. But that's what it sounds of to him, in his ears and in his head. A traitor. Deserving of scorn. he hunches, awaiting it.
no subject
She nods a little when he mentions the shackles, affirming that she knows what he's talking about. Signless's shackles, the ones that they punished him with. She's not at all surprised that they put Kankri into them. That would be the sort of thing that they would do. Honestly, she's surprised that Signless didn't have a pair to match.
But Fraysong keeps going, and there's a point where Terezi starts putting the pieces together. A point where he says that there were peacekeepers everywhere and that Signless was about to snap, and her eyes widen just a little--her jaw drops just a bit.
He didn't, she thinks. He wouldn't. There's no way... But the confession comes regardless of her disbelief. And she stands there stunned, trying to sort out what and how she's supposed to feel about this. This is a betrayal. It should be a betrayal, and he's cringing like he expects her to be mad.
In a way, she is. There's a part of her that's hurt that he would step so far outside of their quadrant. For humans it might not seem so strange, but for them it's a violation of trust and commitment. And then there's a much larger part of her that simply feels foolish for not realizing how close they had become. As if it wasn't obvious where this whole thing was headed? The writing had been on the wall from day one, when she had first asked them what this was all about. A matter of time, really.
But still another part of her is hopeful. Some filthy, selfish part of her is almost happy that this might be the end of her role as their auspictice. Because if that were true, then maybe... just maybe, she could finally tell him how she really felt. If she ever found the words to say it, that is.
But in this moment, Terezi shoves all of that aside. She is still his auspictice for now, and right now she has to make him understand what she intended for all of this. Gently, she reaches out to his withdrawn hands, pulling them back towards her again. Her fingers cup around his, clasping them tight.
"Kurloz," she says quietly, trying to tuck away those myriad of feelings into something more controlled and understanding. "It's okay. You did what you had to. You kept him safe."
"He's important to you. That is important to us. This quadrant was never meant to last forever. It's just something makeshift to help you and him, and..." She hesitates, feeling strangely like she's on the edge of a cliff and about to step off. She squeezes his hands tighter.
"I've been thinking that we might be near the end. You've both been doing so well. I was going to ask what you thought, if you think you're ready to do this without me."
no subject
She takes his hand and he just barely keeps from flinching. He watches wide-eyed, searching her face for any sign to-- what? He doesn't know.
It doesn't feel okay. This doesn't feel safe. What does she mean this wasn't meant all to motherfucking last?
"NO!" He says without thinking. "I need you." Don't go. "YOU'RE BREAKING UP? I didn't mean to motherfucking pap him. I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN DO THIS! Terezi..."
He trails. He sounds like a wriggler. A plaintive wriggler whining for their lusus. She's not like that. She's his friend.
"I AIN'T KNOW. Are you sure?"
no subject
"This is not because you papped him, Kurloz. I am not punishing you. I just want you to think, hard... When was the last time you've fought with him? I mean, really fought. It's not perfect, not by a long shot, but the whole purpose of being your auspictice was to help you both through your problems. And now... Here we are." With him papping the Signles, the same troll who's mere presence used to send him into fits of rage. They've both come a long way from the people they used to be. She wishes in that moment that she could better explain how proud of them she is.
"This isn't a break-up. Not yet. I just want you to know that it might be soon. But I will stay here as long as you need me. You know that." For this, and for everything else.
no subject
He hangs on tight to her all the while as he pulls up that fight. It had hurt. It had been as to a hundred old wounds torn all the fuck open.
Or like trying to cauterize a greater one, only instead of just killing like he'd done to Disciple, maybe he'd actually made himself a closed scar. Maybe she was right.
But she can't be. He still needs her. He doesn't want them to come apart. She's important to him too.
Soon, she says. He holds her hands a little tighter. He feels that weight upon his neck, where the three colored rings are held together-- next to a golden goat's skull.
"STILL NEED YOU." Won't ever not need her. And he ain't even so afraid of it no more. At least, not for what it might do so long as she's around. He's weak and with no armor-- and no more real fang to protect himself anymore. It's just her. A trade what he's more than willing to accept.
He finds himself thankful, suddenly, that he wasn't made an avox again. He can look her in the eye, even though it don't matter. He can stand by her because he wants to. That's all a miracle what he could wish for.
no subject
But he says he still needs her, and a little part of her hurts. That little part of her that doesn't want him to need her like this. That part that wants him to understand that being his ashmate is not where her feelings lie. That part that is a little scared that he doesn't feel the same way. Maybe this quadrant is as close as she'll ever get to him... But she knows herself well enough. And she would rather have that distance and know it's real, than keep pretending that being his auspictice is where she wants to be.
For now, though... For now, she can be what he needs her to be.
"No matter what happens, I am not going to stop being your friend. Even when I'm no longer you ashmate, I will still be here. Nothing is going to change." She smiles as encouraging as she can, her lips quirking into a smirk when she adds: "You haven't gotten rid of me after this long. Why stop now?"
no subject
Truthfully, it ain't even that he's desperate for this all so much as he just... doesn't want to let her go. It's cowardly. Perhaps even cruel.
But she brings a smile to his face even where all it aches.
"Stuck the fuck on like seabits in hairknots," He says. "AIN'T NEVER GETTING RID. Ain't never going at to be able."
no subject
It's just a hug, she tells herself, but it's not just anything when her chest hurts like this.
"It's a promise then. Okay?"
no subject
He just... squeezes back.
"PROMISE."