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thecapitol2015-01-20 10:58 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thecapitol2015-01-20 10:58 pm
Entry tags:
- aang,
- albert heinrich,
- daryl dixon,
- event: crowning,
- felicity yoshida,
- firo prochainezo,
- haruto soma,
- jason compson iv,
- karkat vantas,
- kousuke nitou,
- linden lockhearst (l),
- phillip gray,
- porrim maryam,
- rick grimes,
- roland deschain,
- sam wilson,
- sigma klim,
- swann honeymead,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- wesker,
- ✘ arya stark,
- ✘ brock samson,
- ✘ bruce banner,
- ✘ dandy mott,
- ✘ dave strider,
- ✘ dorian pavus,
- ✘ eponine thenardier,
- ✘ feferi peixes,
- ✘ gary epps,
- ✘ holly day,
- ✘ jack sparrow,
- ✘ jane,
- ✘ jolie,
- ✘ luke,
- ✘ maxwell trevelyan,
- ✘ milla vodello,
- ✘ nill,
- ✘ piers nivans,
- ✘ tess,
- ✘ the iron bull,
- ✘ thorin oakenshield,
- ✘ venus dee milo
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!]
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!]
no subject
"The type of madness I mean - perhaps there are allowances for one like you, who've been allowed to do what you could. But for one like me, changing the path of your own life has certain consequences." With that he starts to walk, the nature of their conversation making him want to move, let off some energy. "Which is all conjecture, of course - your world may know more about the nature of time and fate, but in mine the idea of someone who can change that at will had never even been dreamt of. I don't think any of us would have considered doing it, even if we could."
no subject
This is something new, and Sigma listens attentively, following at Roland's side. The walk might help keep himself awake. "...You must have been burdened with great responsibility." He can empathize, from the bottom of his heart. "Do you mean to say that one's fate is static, in your world? I have come to learn that a universe like mine is an exception rather than a rule." A world where fate was an immutable concept is difficult for Sigma to fathom, who had spent many lives living and reliving strife until he found a path he was happy with. He supposed he was jealous of a world like that.
no subject
"Not static. Things can go off course." What exactly had happened when his had is a matter Roland doesn't care to go into so he frowns, rubs at his forehead, and turns his thoughts away from it and more toward the generalities he was taught in his youth. "And in that sense, and others, it isn't really fate. We called it k- k-"
He tries, because he always tries, but the time may never come when the 'chips' the gamemakers put in their tribute's heads actually let any of his world's words make it from his brain to his lips. "-fate." He shakes his head, the grey-stained skin around his eyes wrinkling up as he makes a brief face. "We called it something I don't have the vocabulary for right now. And it didn't effect everyone. But to tell the truth, Doctor Klim, if you told me that- that destiny isn't very much a force in your world as well as it is in every other-"
Here his pause is to glance aside at the other man, try to decide whether this is an issue that'll get Klim's hackles up. Not something he wants to do just yet, but he's already started and besides, it'll be interesting to see if this is a concept as close to people's hearts in Klim's world as it is in his own. "-I'm pretty sure I wouldn't believe you."
no subject
Roland tries hard to articulate that word and Sigma is grateful even if he fails. Akane must have known the frustrations of trying to express something in another language in which there was no word, so Sigma can appreciate Roland's difficulty. Sigma nods, understanding somewhat. "To a point, I can still believe in 'Destiny...'" He feels strongly that he has talked far too much about himself, but Roland had wanted to hear it, and perhaps the other man was dually benefited by avoiding details about his own life. "I believe one version of me was fated to fail. " He shrugged. Maybe that made no sense. "...Do you know what I mean? As if my life branches off into two paths: a man who failed and a man who succeeded..." Perhaps Roland wouldn't understand after all, but he could at least try. "But, a sort of 'fate' that doesn't effect everyone... how fascinating." Sigma would love to hear more.
no subject
He eyes the food table as they near it. He's thinking more on ka and how to explain it than on the food, but a part of his mind is wondering vaguely just how many insects are on just that one side of the table. Troll food.
Ka, though. "Let's see," he murmurs. "This isn't as I'd've explained it to a child, but I was never in a position to teach any child of- of fate back in Gilead, anyway. My own son, when we met, was too ol-"
It isn't that Roland doesn't want to go into these matters. His son, his particular experience with changing his own path that he'd mentioned and managed not to explain. But the confusion and disorientation that memories from that period of his life inevitably bring - it's long habit to cut off thoughts of that time before they get too far. And here? Evidence of mental weakness in the very eye of Panem's elite, or even in the best case scenario, in front of someone he's only just decided might be worthy of some trust, is unthinkable.
So he cuts himself off before finishing the sentence, automatic, and then realizes that if Klim did not know he was avoiding certain matters before, he certainly does now. "-too old. I, uh-" He tries and fails at not sounding like he's hurrying past the thought and then promptly realizes, with something a little like horror, that in the effort to escape the hazy pull of those memories he has completely lost the thread of this previous thought. His own thought, and any certain memory of whatever it was Klim had been saying before it.
This is not something that happens to Roland Deschain. At least, not in public.
Somewhere in that he's stopped his step, turned off his course a little. He corrects it and starts walking again. "If you have any questions I'll answer them," he manages, trying at once to decide how much his expression just gave away and to scrape his thoughts together. "It's only that it's a complex topic, always was."
no subject
Though Sigma had seen his fair share of unusual and disgusting foods in post-apocalyptic life, the sight of the insects makes his stomach churn and Sigma decides to concentrate on Roland. He wonders how far he would have gotten if he hadn't been whisked off the face of the earth, or if he were back to starving in the jungle Arena - he'd probably have thought those bugs were appetizing by now. He chases the thoughts away by following the movement of Roland's eyes.
And so he is put in the position of being unable to avert his gaze when Roland is visibly confused. Sigma never knows what to do in these sorts of situations, and bows his head awkwardly, but without looking away. 'My own son.' Sigma's heart is squeezed tight, he must shut down his empathy before it overpowers him. Perhaps Roland's relationship with his boy was just as tumultuous as Sigma's was- or, perhaps it wasn't, but paternal pain manifested itself in many ways. Even dear memories could sour after enough time has passed - Sigma could not reflect on the memories of his son growing up without remembering how he had died in the Arena. He banished all thoughts save for a precious few.
And so even if Sigma does not understand, he knows that whatever memory Roland had of his son must have affected him deeply, one way or another. He follows after him almost urgently. "...No, it's alright," he begins tentatively. He is almost... soft, an expression that did not come easily for him. "I would rather not force you into a discussion that is difficult for you." It's a bit of an extension of the olive branch- I understand that life is not easy. That there is some pain that must go unspoken. "...Perhaps another time? I would not mind having some time to grapple with the idea. And with good fortune, this will not be the last opportunity we have a chance to speak." It's a way out: of course Roland does not have to return to the subject if he does not want to.
no subject
Klim has been fairly kind through this whole conversation. Part of the act, if it is one. If it isn't - well then, he's gotten very lucky with his slip just now. Either way, by the time the man finishes Roland has mostly recovered himself, and he isn't going to argue with the apparent sympathy. Much. "That particular force isn't one that ought to be difficult to speak on. It'd be like... Like holding a grudge against gravity for keeping you from flying with the birds."
But it is a difficult subject, more than. And isn't it a relief, to have a reason not to touch the pain of that time? Isn't it good?
No. No it absolutely isn't, but a cowardly part of Roland - his heart or his mind, he isn't sure - is very definitely telling him otherwise.
Nevermind. As things are he can not speak of certain matters, and debating with himself is not going to change any part of that. The offer's a convenient one, and one it might be dangerous just now not to take. "But if you'd like time to take it in-"
He's interrupted by a voice from another part of the room. Not shouting, but announcing. Waving all the tributes toward him so they can gather for a game. Roland frowns, instantly wary of that word from that source, but so far as he's aware tributes have never been killed at a crowning. "Suppose we'll have to let it wait, anyway." He tilts his head toward the man who made the announcement, raising his eyebrows at Sigma. Whether or not the other man's behavior is genuine, there is one area in which they are linked without a doubt.
Their gaolers beckon. It's time to go.