thecapitol | The Crowning Of The Signless

The Crowning Of The Signless

Who| Everyone.
What| The Crowning of The Signless.
Where| An alcove in a nearby mountain.
When| From dusk to dawn, on Thursday.
Warnings/Notes| This event is mandatory for all Tributes to attend. Even if you do not tag in, your character will attend this party. Peacekeepers will be on high alert. There will be no chance to runaway.

Tributes are encouraged to sleep all during the day, before the crowning. The reason for this is revealed when they are roused at sundown and brought to the closest mountain to the city, where they are greeted by an alcove within the moutainside that has been carved into a temple to what may be an illicit faith. The stone alcove is dim-lit by candles arranged along walls and by what appears to be altars set before iron cancer signs, some plain, some inlet with intricate carvings. Bright red drapery hangs about the room, tapestries with the cancer sign and cirles of blending color spectrum. There are also some waist high leggings hung upon one wall. In the center of the room, shackles hang, glowing bright from some sort of internal heat and light. A hole in the ceiling is set on each side of it, to allow the smoke to escape from the great bonfire that roars beneath it. If one takes a seat upon any of large stones and logs aranged around it, they can see both the stars twinkling down and the way the smoke looks as though it is coming off the shackles.

The only windows otherwise are made from stained glass depicting images from the Signless's life, such as his rescue by "Alternia's First Mother" (so described on the metal plate below), "The Recording of His Teachings" depicting The Disciple writing the Signless's words into a book, "A New Follower" showing the Psiioniic joining the Signless, a boat deemed "The First Ship", and "The Execution" which features the death of the Signless before thousands of followers, a fifth troll- resembling Terezi- bearing the shackles as a necklace and another with great brown wings, a single window of Karkat and Kankri Vantas, as well as a sinister depiction of six indistinct shadowy figures of cerulean, blue, indigo, violet, tyrian, and maroon. Cave-style paintings cover the stone walls, styles ranging from simple scribbled etching to circles featuring twelve colors in circle, with bright red at the center, and yet more elaborate shadowy depictions of those in the stained glass, esepcially the Signless himself, both prior and following his execution.

But not all is dedicated to the Signless and his old posse of biblical age trolls. A shrine has been set up for redeemed and then so quickly lost victor, Matthew 'Punchy' O'Conner. Punchy has been painted upon a cave wall like he fits right into the theme. Upon his shrine lay all varieties of bling; Bling-jewelery, a bling goblet, bling boxing gloves, a hoodie, a nun habit, and a stone with a memorial rap engraved atop-- with bling, of course, all shimmering by the spotlights placed before the shrine. Refillable 40 oz bottles are lain out so that sorrowful guests, wishing to pay their respect to the boy so cruelly slain by rebels when he had turned from them, can pour one out in his honor.

Marius is also honored there with a tea light and small framed photograph set upon an empty table with an empty chair, along with souvenir versions of his and Cosette's wedding rings that guests can take home. Beneath all these rings is a photoshopped picture of javert with a single tear running down his manly face.

The only seating besides the stones and logs and Marius's single chair, are those that are sat at a table at the end of the room. Each is draped in a different color, six on each side for each district and each blood hue-- presumably of the Victor's choosing. Between these chairs sits yet one more with a tall back like a flogging jut that got the redesigned at the base to make a throne that some trolls might recognize as belonging to the Empress. The arms of the chair feature open shackles. The throne is decorated in chains of gold and jewels of all colors. The victor is given a crown of gilded flowers and thorns on chain.

Food can be found upon the altars or the victor's table, in surplus. Alternian delicacies are served, featuring insects, flavored or plain, and food made from insects. Guests may find a giant beetle being served upon a spit roast. Even the meats appear to be topped with bugs. The cakes, marshmallows (which can be roasted with stick by the fire!), and orange creamsicles may be the only things truly bug-free. Drink options are water, wine, and soda.

Stylists are encouraged to dress their tributes primarily in black, with a single bit of color put into the design matched according to district (with exception to trolls), or any manner of draping fabrics, cloaks, and costumery reminiscent of religious iconagraphy that one might expect of ancient aliens. Waist high pants and leggings are also in high regard, as well as fake horn, fangs, contacts, and anything to make guests look more trollish. The only rule is for the main colors to match to the blood assignment.

The music playing is the sort one might expect from a church, featuring mournful vocals, soft bells and melodies, and of course, organ music. But for one or two jarring differences. Where this music is coming from remains a mystery but since the space is open and clear, guests have plenty of room for dancing.

Those who don't wish to dance can talk and regale tales around the bonfire, or may instead seek out the book of "scripture" at one of the altars that features nothing more than various parables- with names that Tributes might recognize! Each Tribute has one parable contained within, telling a tale in flourished manner of a part of their life, featuring a pro-capitol moral at the end.

Elsewhere, are models of the flogging just, where guests can put their hands through the oversized cuffs and pretend to writhe in agony, an Alternian bioware helm where guests too can pretend to have their lifeforce and power used a battery for the sake of the Alternian empire, a dress-up station where guests can customize their appearance to match trolls sold into gruelling slavery to seadwellwers, and an area designed to look like a cave with extensive "Alternian" (gibberish) writings of the Signless's words, where guests too can pretend they've lost everyone they love and are carrying on their legacy by writing upon the walls and leaving their own messages of love and mourning. Not to mention, a life-sized drone with realistic piercing claws, for all your picture posing needs.

A sandpit lies just around a corner for children to make castles, dig trenches, and act out games of pretending they've trekked thousands of miles through zombie infested desert just to speak to a couple of people! Guests can also meet a "mutantblood lusus" a four-eyed crab creature with lizardlike structure-- only sized no bigger than the average dog and perhaps about as intelligent. Guests are warned not to put their hand too close, lest the claw pincers manage to pinch them.

Late into the crowning, everyone is brought out to the dark mountainside, well monitored by peacekeepers, and divided into teams. Everyone is given belts with velcro flags attached, colored according to the "blood" they were matched with by district. Those in the eighth, ninth, twelfth, third, tenth, and eleventh districts are deemed the "lowbloods. Those in the first, fourth, second, fifth, sixth, and seventh districts, are deemed the "highbloods". Each team is given a velcro board to attach the flags to. The first team to lose all their flags loses, winners getting tiny necklace copies of the shackles. The last one standing with a flag wins a larger necklace copy and the option to get it redesigned into a symbol of their choosing.

If you failed not to be "culled", fear not! All tributes receive a participation sticker at the end. This sticker features a number. It is not indicative of districts or of age, as will be announced shortly, but of the new scoring. These will be announced for everyone to hear- and pick out targets from.

The crowning officially ends with the coming dawn. And so begins, to everyone's surprise, preparation for the arena. Tributes will be going right from the crowning off to the Tribute launch tubes. Happy Hunger Games!

[Note: This is ICly on Thursday! Just before the arena on Friday!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Signless squeezes the Initiate's hand tight, rings leaving marks in his skin from the pressure. This is everything he was steeling himself for but seeing it -- the drone, the jut, the shackles -- has settled a heavy weight in his heart, but it isn't one of fear or panic. This isn't anything worse than he's seen before here in terms of his culture being mocked, and he can deal with that mockery so long as no one he cares for is in danger. All the Capitol wants is a party. If they play along then tonight will be, if not painless, at least not fatal.

"Shh. We can do this. It's just one night."

"KANKRI.." He starts, trailing off with not knowing what to say. With wanting to say all the fuck too much. Where does he even begin with the this all?

"It's threat," He says hushed all he can. "KANKRI--" He stops when shushed. Kankri is calm. He's settled all motherfucking finelike as it ain't being a thing. Just one night. Okay. O-motherfucking-kay. "You'll stay by me, right? FOR A WHILE?"

He takes in the throne. They probably are needing at to go there, just to get him settled up in it to start. As so he can be crowned properlike. "Think we can maybe just sit you up at one of them regular chairbits?"

"I'll stay with you for as long as I can," he promises, and then adds under his breath: "It's a threat, but that's all. If we do nothing to displease them, nothing bad will happen."

He can't display fear or anger, not tonight, not when every eye is on him and waiting for him to mess up. He has to act like all of this is fine, both for himself and to give strength to his loved ones who are just as worried as he is.

"I'll have to sit on the throne eventually. But until then, and after, I don't think it could hurt to... not."

Signless is keeping so composed. All where he ain't. His mind is of wonder- how'd it really feel bearing witness to this execution. What was it like being up on that side of it all? Was Signless just as sure of self all then?

But he knows Signless can't be sure as what he pretends to be. The Initiate knows fear, all too well.

He nods along and goes on to the chair furthest possible from the motherfucking throne. He pulls it out but he doesn't sit in it. He instead waits for Signless, looking expectant.

It takes him just a moment to realize what the Initiate is waiting for, and then he smiles and takes the offered chair. Focusing on Capitol niceties keeps his mind off of what might happen if he fails to perform. The Initiate is right, as he always is in matters of fear.

"Thank you."

"AIN'T A THING, BROTHER BEST."

He walks around from behind the chair out in front of it. He reaches out, taking Signless's hand up in his hand, and all the while he start to kneel, right before his old friend. The crowned victor.

He lifts Kankri's hand up to kiss, head bowed just enough to signify without tangling horns up in anything. "Thank you Messiahs, for this blessing," He says before lifting his head. Then, "THANK YOU, BROTHER BEST, FOR YOUR FORGIVENESS, KINDNESS, AND DIRECTION. May you remain ever prosperous of here the fuck out. ALL OF GOOD WHAT HATH BEEN BESTOWED." His lips pull up at one corner, for just a moment. "My miracleblooded brother."

Edited 2015-02-05 05:59 (UTC)

It's the first time that all of the ceremony and fawning he's had to put up with thus-far has felt right rather than deeply unsettling. It's still a little overwhelming, too close to worshipful to be entirely comfortable, but he knows it comes only from a place of care.

"Thank you, Kurloz," he says. And then, because he isn't sure quite how else to phrase it: "You don't need to bow to me."

"I KNOW," He says, without looking at him. He doesn't say it was a long time due, or that of course he'd not think Signless no sort of king nor god.

"But I wanted to."

He shuffles back moving so he's sitting down beside Signless's legs, upon the floor. He brings his arms up upon the Signless's knees, then lays his head head down there, his horns sticking out opposite to him safe.

"WE SHOULD SEE ON SHORES AGAIN, BROTHER. Some day."

Without really thinking Signless begins to run a hand through the Initiate's hair. It curls around his fingers and catches on his rings, grounding him. The calming thoughtless motion is one that's better than twisting one of his many rings, which would be his automatic go-to otherwise.

"I'd like that. Maybe some time in the future, when we have less to worry about." It's the closest he can get to saying 'when the war is over, if we win'.

"I wonder if the tidepools of Panem's beaches are anything like yours were."

His eyes close and sure enough the Signless is running fingers through his hair. It puts a buzz up in his mind, but one what soothes the edges of his pan, where they press the skull or got being all made of holes.

He starts up a purr, not loud enough to be heard, but enough Signless might feel it. He laughs a little, but's it's just as quiet.

"PROBABLY BEING LESS SO FUCKIN TERRIFYING," He says. "Hope they got the shells still. HEAR THEM CRUSTACEANS GOT BEING MINIATURE. And the water can get to be all motherfucking warm by the sun... MISS THE COLOR THOUGH. With the moons. BUT SOMETIME IN FUTURE, YEAH."

That purr, muted though it is, turns his smile genuine. It really is a miracle that something so simple could make him feel so happy, so sure that there's still hope for something good in this place.

"I've heard that the human ocean is colorful at sunsets and sunrises," he offers. "All red and pink and purple. It would just be a matter of being there at the right time, but we'd be able to watch it."

A thought occurs to him and he glances to the back of the hand petting through the other troll's hair. The tattoos are still there and still jarring to see where unmarked skin was not too long ago, but the shapes are familiar ones.

"They drew the moons onto me. We won't lose them entirely."

He thinks idle thoughts, like how it might feel if he'd kept his hair long, or if he'd cut it even short. Would it be a blasphemy to his pusher, letting Signless braid his hair, or would it feel all just and right? Could he offer the same in turn?

All simple thoughts. All felt under the gentlest fog.

Signless's words melt right into his pan, the touch spreading warmth through his cold bones, making him shiver a little. "We'll have to sleep by shift. WAKE FOR THE WATCHING OF EACH. Stay there all day, just me and motherfucking you." His words are all rumbling. Mirth does he want it. But it's not a hurry. He feels no need to move.

At least not until Signless's last words. He grunts and lifts his head and horns, blinking a little at what moons he makes to speak on for. He smiles, and lifts a hand to trace them over, all the pretty designs, the motherfucking work of art what's been made of his brother. This is fitting somehow, what's been done on him. "MY MOON BROTHER," He teases. "You remember that old myth? ONE WHAT'S ON ABOUT THE BLOOD OF THE FIRST EMPRESS AND DEMONESS ALSO, MAKING FOR MOONS? Been thinking at that on this human's moon. WHITE LIKE CARE. White like bone. NOT MOTHERFUCKING MATTERING OF BLOOD AND BEING. S'got means what like to being getting fitting of righteousness passed, yeah? YOU FIT THE PALE MOON BETTER."

"Do you think so?" he asks, and there's genuine surprise in his voice.

After the colorful moons of Alternia, the way they'd leave the desert sands or the ocean water glimmering in crystalline tones, Panem's moon has always seemed lackluster. It doesn't add colors, it bleaches them away and leaves everything cold and dead.

"I've never thought of it that way." He looks down at the Initiate's fingers as they trace over the black lines on his skin. "White like care. Not beholden to caste. If I'm staying here, and I do plan to stay here, then I suppose it's good this moon suits me better."

He'd never thought of it like that in the reverse. Funny, though they both aimed for optimism, it had always been he was more the pessimist of the both of them. Maybe it just depended on the motherfucking view.

He doesn't say much a word up in response to that though. Instead, he beams at Signless, a child's smile upon him.

But he does request, with his hands on the tattoos; "Tell me what these mean?"

"I think they're meant to remind me of home. What used to be home," he corrects, because Alternia isn't his home anymore. "So, the double moons on one hand and the sun on the other. The flowers are for my family: lily, honeysuckle, forget-me-not. If I had had a say in the designs I would have asked for one for you, but I wasn't really given a choice."

He isn't sure what flower he would ask for anyway, and he still isn't sure these tattoos are permanent. If they are maybe he'll get something added in later.

"And then the shackles, one on each wrist. Those are self-explanatory."

The moons and sun. Those are nice. He likes the implication of balance with them both. The flowers, well, he ain't really know what all they mean but he assumes each is for someone. Honey-suckle, well that would be Mituna. Forget-me-not, he's less sure, but it sounds as it would've fit the Disciple-- he misses her a bit, he realises. That leaves the lilies for the Dolorosa.

He's not surprised to have been left out. It would've been hard to look at, having his ownself symbolically mixed in with his lot where he ain't deserve to be.

The shackles being why.

He ain't know if these will be permanent neither. Capitol had their way with things. But he decides if they are; "SHOULD GO OVER THEM. The shackles. They ain't nothing none relevent to you. SHOULD LET THAT FOLIAGE ON OVER, LIKE THE GREEN OVER RUINS NOT YET GONE, YOU DIG? Growth and nicety." Or he can keep them as is. He could understand that too. "SOMETHING WHAT TO MAKE THEM YOURS." Reclaim it all.

The thought seems to light him up from within. One of the best ways to deal with the pain of living in Panem is to make small parts of it his. His room, his clothing which he's been having more and more of a say over. These markings on his arms that he didn't ask for but doesn't entirely dislike, if they stay.

"I'll need a flower for you, then. And one for Terezi, and Roland. Three more should be enough to cover the shackles if they put in enough of them."

He looks up at Signless saying that. At the idea of getting inclusion with all them familial things good. He looks all touched, even if doesn't comment so much as he lays his head back down upon Signless's knees.

"Don't really know nothing all about flowers," He says. He knew they were pretty and colorful and generally nice. He knew there wasn't being many since all they bloomed by sun hours and not so much near where his hive was at. "DO YOU?"

"Not really. But I'll have time now to learn." Now that he won't be in the arenas he'll need to fill up his time somehow. What better way could there possibly be than taking steps toward making living in Panem even in some small way more bearable?

"I'll find books. I'll ask the stylists -- they chose these flowers, they may have some ideas for others."

Time to learn. Brother's already gone planning as ways to spend his time. All on about figuring the fuck out what he wants to be at to do now that he's safe. His head is upon Signless's knees and he can't do much for looking up at him, but he smiles soft anyway.

"Sounds real good that," He purrs. "SHOULD LOOK UP STARS TOO. Some nice things as is in there, brother." He laughs to himself. "GONNA GET ALL COLOR COATED IN THE PERMANENCE BEAUTEOUS. Like a rainbow. YOUR GAURDIAN WAS JADE, YEAH? She ever see a rainbow true legit? HUMANS SAY LIKE THEY GET ON ALL ACROSS THE MOTHERFUCKING SKY."

He knows if he lets himself get bored he'll fall back into doing nothing but watching the arenas -- and while he has to, as a mentor, doing nothing but will drive him insane. Learning about flowers seems vastly preferable.

"She may very well have, though if she did she never told me. If I have them add color I'll have a few put in. Many hues coming together to make something beautiful seems fitting, for some reason."

Some incredibly obvious reason.

He snorts and rolls his eyes, though it's all teasing. Even when he echoes, "For some reason."

But Signless knows him too. Even for all he used to scoff at the uniting of trolls as of being remotely realistic...

Well, he always did find rainbows to be a beautiful miracle.

[Yep, I'd say that's a wrap!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Crowning Of The Signless

A

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

wrap?

no subject