The Crowning of Tony Stark

[etcircenses]

Who| Everyone.
What| The Crowning of Tony Stark.
Where| The New Capitol Stark Expo!
When| Friday, late afternoon into the evening.
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, so no funny business.
WARNINGS| Alcoholism / References to Alcoholism.  

The Capitol might be known for its extravagance, but Stark Expos have never skimped on a show. Combining the two together could only be a recipe for the most wild indulgences. The center theater takes styling after a arc reactor, with glass ceiling and glowing blue lights set right within the metal and putting a glow to the sky. Lightshows go off on the main stage, the stark logo overhead and a massive screen displaying the Panem flag and Tony Stark's image just behind the dancing Ironettes. A circle plattform going off from the stage, clearly reserved for the guest of honor, features a design Panem's bird in red, gold, and glowing blue.

A globe is featured in the outside gardens, showing off a map of Panem, and the park is filled with artistic statues of destroyed Iron Man amror. But there's no quiet here, not with the fireworks going off all night and the consistent playing of music that is not but sounds an awful lot like that of Daft Punk, Eifel 65, ACDC, and one other song that breaks them up.

Various shows can be found about the gardens, including display models of some of Tony Stark's old weapons and Iron Man suits. Further along guests may find the Avengers display, featuring large portraits of the Avengers and their allies, large red x's going over greyed out portraits of those deemed dead, including Phill Coulson, Natasha Romanoff, and Thor. Along with these portraits can be found the Stark family tree, featuring the Victor Tony Stark and all his relations including apparent son Dave Strider, and Arya Stark, Ancestor of the Stark family, not to mention the great Howard Stark who's accomplishments (and tragic lack of care for Anthony) are lovingly illustrated. One such accomplishment being a "flying car" just a short walk over.

There's plenty for guests to do besides just ogle the brilliant sights however! A bar has been set up with a whole variety of drinking games available from Sink The Battleship and Drink Roulette to an extravagent variation of the classic game, Beer Pong, and an ongoing run of the Games with rules of drinking for each emotional scene, funny incident, or death. Those under the age of eighteen will be served fizzing juice or soda instead and can participate in junior versions of the very same games. All the cups are made from the finest glass with Tony Stark images over them. Avoxes are on scene to clean every spill and break of glass that might come.

A cave has been crafted of artificial and real material, designed to look like the Cave in which Tony Stark became a real hero, but with a twist; it's been made into a fun-for-all maze! Guests can attempt to navigate their way to the labyrinth and reach the core, avoiding those nasty pop-out rebels along the way. Those who make it to the fire-lit center may receive a limited edition "Tony Stark Heart" miniature arc reactor in a beautiful glass case.

An indoor sky diving station is also available, large enough that many guests may enter at once and still find it spacious. Here, guests can don Iron Man themed sky-diving suits and experience the sensation of flight, just as Tony Stark once did. Of course, the party doesn't start until the Victor comes in; he'll be appearing by Capitol-controlled suit to make his entrance at center stage. It is here that his Throne shall be raised up through the stage and his crown gifted to him. Following the official Crowning Ceremony will also come a speech from the Capitol's very own, Cyrus Reagan.

Tributes are dressed in formal wear with robotic accents. Such as a full mask or metal armor. Capitolites can be seen with Tony stark styled hair, bearing tattoos in his image, and even with surgically implanted lights, in honor of the new Victor. Available for purchase are handcrafted Tony Stark dolls, Iron Man action figures, and models of beloved robot-pet "Dum-E" in both small and life-sized. The Iron Man light gloves come completely free for all guests.

The Crowning ends off with a bang, as in the center of the sky, a massive "wormhole" opens up showing a vast darkness full of sinister creatures just on the other side, sure to inspire some screams from fans. Guests near to the Iron Man suit displays are asked by peacekeepers to step back-- far back-- but may be the first to witness the incredible scene of all those suits launching into the sky and exploding around and "in" the wormhole. The wormhole shifts to a message stating the show to have been brought to you by the Hunger Game's skilled Sky-Display Designers before going into advertising for the rest of the night as the party dies down.

Comments

OPEN

[crabmunicator]

Thank god it's not troll-themed is Karkat's first and primary thought about this party. Last time was awful to endure, the whole setup varying from insulting to openly mocking depending on what decoration he was enduring at the time. The only good things were the food and the miniature copy of his lusus, and they didn't remotely make up for the rest. This, bright and fancy and distinctly human, is much more welcome.

Of course he hasn't escaped the whims of his stylist, having been stuck in a mix of white leather jacket, black shirt with a grey Cancer symbol, and highwaisted, loose-fitting, khaki breeches with a red waist sash. The last tuck snugly below the knee into a pair of armored boots, accented by red swirls that reference his sign. A bit of jewelry has been stuck on as well in the form of a plain silver necklace and a pair of dangling ruby earrings his stylist insisted on. (At least it's not the tattoos from last time.)

He sternly avoids the drinking games, partaking only a little of the juice on offer while avoiding the soda. (At the equivalent of 16, he's too young for the alcohol.) More out in the open he may be find milling around or else looking over the various suits of armor on display. At one point he stops to squint and stare at the family tree. Why the hell is Dave on there?

At another time, indoors, one might find him eying up the sky diving station. He always did want to fly, and while it's not the real thing, the idea is tempting...

And sooner or later curiosity (and the boredom of just standing around looking at stuff) leads him into the cave-turned-maze. He's not necessarily good at mazes, but with a swear for every dead end and wrong turn, it may not be as hard to find him as it is to find the center of the attraction.

keep it kinda general for the time being until we finish other thread

[pythianjudgment]

Terezi has been through enough crowning, that when her Stylist dolls her up in a suit jacket and a skirt, she feels almost normal. Not quite normal are the bright metallic leggings or the flashy LED lined vest, but the visor is pretty stellar. She might ask if she can keep this after the crowning is over.

The maze draws her attention as only a puzzle can, offering her not only a challenge but also a bit of solitude away from the rest of the party. Not to mention, she's wants to find out what silly treasure is at the center of this cheesy bullshit. She expects that she'll eventually run into others also traversing the maze, but it can't be that bad, right?

Well... she hadn't exactly meant that literally. She bumps into Karkat while rounding a corner, stumbling back a step. It's abundantly clear the moment that she realizes who this is, the way that her expression falls. Her head turns and ducks a little, like she's trying to avert her attention in the same way someone might avert their gaze.

"Sorry," she mutters, a little under her breath as she tries to maneuver around him and keep going--the quicker the better.

SLAMS INTO THIS

[crabmunicator]

The thing about this stupid maze, about being lost, is that the longer he stays stuck the more focused on his frustration he gets. Just keep going, try this way, no that--did he just go down the same useless dead end again? It has him not even thinking about the other people around, until one literally smacks into him.

"Agh! Jegus, watch where you're going, would--" And in righting himself, he sees her. "--you..."

It hits him all at once. The last place he saw her was on LOFAF, fighting with Gamzee, covered with her and his blood. And it's been ages since he's spoken to her. The Signless had suggested writing a letter to get his thoughts out all at once, but he'd just kept writing and rewriting until the Crowning happened, and the arena after meant never got the chance. Then had come his trip back to LOFAF, and then Dave's, and what feels like a hundred other distractions.

He turns to try and catch her wrist if he can. It's light, though, easy enough to break out of if she wants.

"Terezi, wait. I want to talk." There is guilt in his voice and on his face alike. "Please."

[pythianjudgment]

The hand catching her wrist slows her, but the plea in his voice stops her completely. Part of her knows that she should just keep moving. Past experience has taught her that this can't lead anywhere but more heartache, but even so, she can't ignore Karkat like that.

Terezi turns back around slowly, and there's a tension against his hand, like she wants to pull away but she's not quite able to. So she lingers instead, a frown on her lips and a furrow to her brow. She doesn't miss the guilty look on his face, but even that isn't enough to budge the feeling of apprehension in her stomach.

"I didn't think there was anything left to say." Her tone is quiet, but not accusatory. Just a simple statement of fact, and an admittance of sorts. Her impression had been that they were Done with talking... and virtually everything else.

[crabmunicator]

Karkat's shoulders are tense as Terezi turns to him, and it's there in his face too alongside the guilt. He's nervous, is the thing, and scared that she might not give him the chance - or that even that might not be enough.

He barely gives her words time to settle before he says, "I'm sorry." He wanted to anyway, and it's not what she said that prompted him. "I should have talked to you sooner, and I'm just going to sound stupid if I give excuses for why I didn't."

He wouldn't even know she felt like that. He'd been done at the time for sure, angry and worked up and wanting to be away from her, but he hadn't meant it to be permanent.

"I talked to Signless after things, and I meant to write things down in a letter to get them all out neatly..." His hand motions, empty and inadequate. "But it's pretty fucking late for that. Can we just--talk, here? I know it's not ideal, but I don't want to let it sit and sit and get forgotten."

Somewhere among things he's let go of her wrist, and he doesn't take it back. He won't stop her if she does try to leave again.

[pythianjudgment]

Terezi pulls her hand back when he lets go of her wrist. She rubs the skin absently with her other hand, listening as he goes on about how he had talked to Signless and he wants to talk. She's still apprehensive, and it shows a little on her face, but she shrugs her shoulders in acquiescence.

"We can talk, if you want to talk." She's never been against talking... Just everything else that seems to happen afterwards. She doesn't know how private it is in this place--the Capitol probably has cameras stationed throughout the maze, but it can't be any worse than trying to find a quiet spot out in the midst of the party.

"Do you want to start?"

[crabmunicator]

He breathes. Okay--okay. That's a chance. He can work with that.

At first, his mind flits over his trip back to LOFAF, wondering if he should go into that... But if it does, it can wait. It's one thing to dump something serious on her, but it's another to do it without even fixing the problems here. Besides, having something dumped on him out of nowhere was pretty much what led to this mess.

"I'm going to just go through this all together, alright? It's been sitting around long enough that I might as well spit it out," he warns. And after a breath, he starts. "Like I said, I talked to him. He pretty much agreed with you--he said he's forgiven you by now, and that you were probably right about how him winning wouldn't have been good. And I think I can move past that."

He lets that sit, just a little.

"But the problem was that it felt like you were just expecting me to pick up after everything past me did. And it was a me, technically, but when I knew literally nothing of things until that happened, and have all these different experiences from you and him, I can't just step in and give you closure for his mistakes. And that's not me trying to avoid responsibility, because I can't take it for things I have no memory whatsoever of doing. It would be as empty as saying sorry for there only being one moon on this planet. It's beyond my control."

He holds his hand up. "But," he says, firm and clear, "I'm not telling you that you can't be upset about it. And I don't think I was wrong for being upset in the moment that you killed the Signless, though I could have been less of a spittle-flecked jerklord about how I presented it. I'm owning up to that--I messed up there, and I messed up in not talking to you sooner. And past me fucked up by putting you through that, but I still can't say sorry for him when I'm not the me who actually did it. I just... don't want to have that weight put on me."

The hand comes back to scrub through his hair, something his stylist will surely scold him for later. "I think we just kept talking past each other, because you were upset about your side, and I was upset about mine, but neither of us were really listening to each other. Obviously that didn't help."

Finally he lets his hand drop, and he looks back at her face. "You can talk now. Say what you want, however much you want--I won't interrupt. I give you free reign to tell me to shut up if I try."

[shenunigans]

Despite being distracted by various endeavors, Dave is still actively seeking Karkat out through the evening. He's not a hard troll to find, even if his height makes it easy for him to be consumed in the crowds. Dave trails up behind him when he catches him eying his portrait, knowing damn well why it's catching his attention and using it to his own gain.

His approach is quiet, up until he starts muttering to himself as he pans the camera up Karkat's body. "It's often you'll find a troll studiously courting his mate, however a large portion of their time is spent pining from afar." He slinks in a little closer, so he's audible even with his stage whisper and terrible British accent. "This male in particular is fondly regarding the handsome visage of his big, gay crush, thinking intently about his next move. Let's watch."

[crabmunicator]

Karkat rounds and swings his hand at the camera. "Trolls don't have a concept of gay, you stupendous disgrace to cultural exchange!"

He didn't hear his approach with all the care put into it, but Dave's muttering is familiar and homey after three years on the meteor, and that always stands out here. His swing isn't a strong one, and it's probably obvious.

"Put that thing down and stop blabbering when there's reporters around. They speculate enough without you turning my media life into a blazing inferno," he huffs, not bothering to argue the claims. Blithering denial is more his recourse when they're true, and right now his only crush is of a different color on a different person of a different gender.

A flourish of his hand indicates the portrait behind. "Why are you up there? And why are they claiming you're related to that Stark asshole?"

[shenunigans]

"Then why are you so offended, Vantas? Why are you dodging the hard hitting questions." Dave moves with the hand, because it perfectly mirrors a scenario involving a celebrity and a desperate, hard-hitting reporter. Speaking of reporters...

"Oh please, Karkat. That ship sailed long ago. We exchange a look, our hands brush against one another and we have that romantic air of casual greeting that makes all the girls swoon." He shrugs, beyond caring about who the Capitol staples him onto at this point. "Next thing you know they won't even care about real evidence, they'll just photoshop us into increasingly affectionate circumstances until it seems like the truth is undeniable."

He reaches out, stroking the air around Karkat's face and whispers: "Don't fight it." But the conversation is moving on, so he turns to the portraits like nothing happened. "I want to give you a sarcastic answer, but frankly I have no fucking idea. Back home I used to read about him and now he's a real person." He shrugs, spreading his hands like that alleviates any confusion.

[crabmunicator]

Karkat's expression turns from aggravation to a more subdued, knowing frustration. He's had fans bug him about enough things and squeal for autographs and ask prying questions - questions he generally turns away - that he can imagine there likely already are photoshopped images of him and other tributes. Dave's just making it easy. Case in point: the hand near his face, and Karkat aborts a move to pinch the bridge of his nose in order to swat the gesture away instead.

"What do you mean, read about him?" he asks, grateful at least that Dave takes the new subject. "Was he famous or something?"

Was, not is - of course he is now. The bit about a 'real person' flits right over him. For as much as he could take it as literal, it's easier to write off as Dave's creative language use, and there's always something removed and distant about celebrities when you've never met them in person.

[shenunigans]

The swat is all Dave needs to bring his hands back to himself so he can brush imaginary dust off the front of his suit. The part that isn't open and exposing his chest yet again, anyway.

"Sort of." He answers vaguely, hands now spreading as he searches for a way to phrase this. "You know those comics I used to pour my life into? Well, it's not exactly an original concept. Lots of humans do it, they're usually about superheroes with powers and stuff. The most famous production companies are called Marvel and DC and basically whoever did the casting for this place shook a big box of merchandise and dropped some main characters in. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers are big names. Big, big names. Also comic characters- but here they aren't? So it's like an Alternate Universe again, probably one where we're in a comic and realistically it's probably awful and impossible to summarise."

[crabmunicator]

Is this going where he thinks it is--

It is going where he thinks it is.

"Mother Grub's chafed taint." He puts his hand to his face. "I am sick up to my glance nuggets of yet more universal bullshit. You know Porrim? Kanaya's ancestor? There's a human version running around here too, a Capitolite, who says Kanaya is her sister's name. I give up on understanding anything. I'm fighting a losing battle by trying."

The hand drops, but only to motion at him.

"And why is your chest showing again? Look, I have a jacket, and yet my stylist understands the basic value of shirts. Look at my shirt. It is magnificent and my chest is entirely covered, like it should be, like a decent person who's not a disgrace to society."

Re: OPEN

[carnagecarnival]

Funny enough, it's pretty damn close to the Intiate's first thought too. this is a damn relief. He just hopes they're not swept immediate into the arena again (though he has to admire what a tactic that would be save the cost. Wear out all the enemies and ain't none shall rise).

From his dreads all lit up up with color, to the outfit his stylists have shoved him in, if he weren't so used to it all by this point, he might be envious of Karkat's getting shoved into something more sensible. It's got near a militaristic flare. Fuck his life that he can be noting such things now.

But all that's going at to be shoved aside because he's stepping around Vantas to walk backwards into the sky diving station, calling, "GONNA SIT BY AND MOTHERFUCKING OGGLE THEM FUCKERS OR IS YOU GETTING IN AS IN, VANTAS?"

Cause he sure as fuck is. It's not grief trapeze, but it's got enough of that same vibe to pull him on in.

[crabmunicator]

A painted face passes by and it's moving back, back, away from him. A voice is in his ears: it teases, mocks, sharp, the words less important than the feel. Back and back, tall, face lit by colors. He sees purple, teal, red and orange, so bright against angles all familiar and alighting against skin and fabric in a way that just seems so much like...

He can hear himself snarling above the hiss of breath he suddenly can't catch. This isn't right; he's at a party, at Crowning for Mother Grub's sake, but he can all but feel the pierce of a dragon-headed cane through his chest, and any moment the lava's going to catch up and burn him alive.

"Fuck," he chokes out. It's not him. It's not real. His hand presses under his jacket and across his shirt, feeling to press in (make sure) there's no blood and blade stuck through him. A necklace he didn't have then brushes his hand. "Initiate--"

It's him and not Gamzee, and he won't even say Makara right now for just that, but words are hard and he can't manage much else. He wants to sit down, but where are the goddamn chairs, so he stands there gulping breath with a hand that would shake otherwise pressed still firm to his chest.

[carnagecarnival]

He knows fear inside and out. He's felt and manipulated all kinds and flavors of it. Even without his powers, it's impossible for him not to recognize.

He slows down to a stop. His expression shifts from that mischievous glee to a whole big mix of confusion, concern, and surprise. The grin has slipped right off his face. He wishes for his voodoo. If he had it he would know what the fuck was being the haps. He wouldn't feel so much like he's missing the obvious.

"Vantas?" He starts. There was snarling there at him, then the motherfucker's pressing as his chest like he's have a pusher attack. He moves closer.

"MOTHERFUCKER, HEY. Listen. JUST GET YOUR BREATHE REAL MOTHERFUCKING DEEP, AIGHT? Hold it a while, breathe out for longer." 'You got a moirail?' goes on through his head but last he knew about that... naw, that definitely ain't being to come up. "CAN GET YOUR ASS WHAT YOU'RE NEEDING. Then maybe you can tell me what the fuck I up and did."

[crabmunicator]

At least the Initiate doesn't react badly: a turnaround entirely from the slam to the wall he got at their first meeting. He's actually trying to help, a fact Karkat can recognize but can't say much to while he tries to get a hold of himself. He manages a bit of a nod and tries for the breathing, though it's not quite easy to get a hold of himself.

He's going to need to tell him, and it probably would have come up anyway, but this situation demands it. First, though, he needs to calm back down. "Chair," he manages between breaths. It should be clear enough.

He'll know soon enough why the moirail question is best left unsaid.

[carnagecarnival]

He nods and takes off. It's a bit of a distance and a fair few peacekeepers through side-glances at him, but he figures if he puts on that blank avoxed expression well enough they'll leave him be regardless of how he looks otherwise.

He's got some hope in him that shit won't be so bad by the time he gets his return on, but there's not really a way for him to know. His wishing for his voodoo continues on as a buzz in the back of his mind, all while he's setting a chair down firm just behind the fucker.

After that, he's just got all to step back. Standby and wait. He fidgets with his dreads all lit up in the meantime.

[crabmunicator]

Having Initiate away from him, for all he at least means well, does help in the short term. Not having to engage with someone, just focusing on his breathing--and there, soon enough, is the chair for him to sit in. He sinks down without a word, and while Initiate fidgets with his dreads, Karkat takes his time to get a hold of himself again.

"... Thanks," he manages eventually, because he figures he owes him that. A nervous tension lingers in his limbs and he feels strangely wrung out, but his heart rate has slowed and his breathing is somewhere more in the range of normal. He looks back at him to take in all the details of his costume to cement the differences.

"I don't know why I freaked out so much. You don't look that alike. You just... Something reminded me and..." He shakes his head. It makes no sense without context, does it? So he sighs and says, "I went back after the last arena. To Paradox Space."

[reassures]

Though Nill has been with Linden for a good chunk of the night, and actively avoiding what certainly seemed like a never-ending supply of alcohol courtesy of and for their alcoholic victor, this Crowning has still been much kinder to her than the last one. That may be because she knows so little about Tony and what here was a cruelty to him, or she just didn't think it comparable to the malice displayed with the setup for the last one. Either way, when Nill spots Karkat she wanders over to him with a small smile.

Her dress is a light grey color with an almost entirely open back. The beads glow and shine, and an odd luminous light comes from the material and beads. Karkat might not be able to tell that it matches the beat of her heart thanks to a sensor on a pulse point; even if he's familiar with how fast a human heart is, Nill's is a little faster than other humans. Bird traits.

She lifts a hand to wave at him slightly, and pulls out the tinier notepad she uses for Crownings. Oceana won't let her use the bigger one, something about large purses and bags not fitting the dresses she makes.

how are you doing?

[crabmunicator]

Oh, fuck.

The light draws his eyes, which is stupid when near everything here is putting on a light show, but something about the rhythmic pulse gets him and her personal features do the rest. Nill. He hasn't been around her as much since that week when Dave was gone, since that awkward moment with his nightmare, and he's still not sure that he didn't end up biting her.

But in that time since, he also had the chance to talk to his Mentor: Linden, who told him she has so little regard for herself, how she's so kind because she puts others above herself. He ran into him earlier, too, when at some point Nill was apart from him. He told him of people whose cracks are hard to see, and how humans drink to fill them.

His heart hurts all over again. He's not ready, but now that she's here he never wants her to leave.

"Fine," he says, and his voice sounds tight enough to his own ears that he swallows and repeats it more normally. "Fine. It's not even half as bad as last time."

He looks away, out at the party around them. He has a glass of juice, replaced after Linden begged an earlier once off him; he's too young for alcohol and he refuses to touch soda.

His gaze flits her way for a bare half second. "You?"

[reassures]

The lack of time spent with Karkat hadn't exactly go unnoticed, but at the time Nill mostly thought it was either that she got used to him being around so much, or he was spending more time with Dave now that he was back. The idea that it might have been partially caused by his nightmare had crossed her mind, but at the time it had seemed like one of the more unlikely reasons.

Now, though, she's not certain. It sounds like he's having trouble actually managing words, and Nill frowns slightly, but it doesn't linger. He's also barely looking at her, and she knows at least that part she's not imagining.

fine. I know some of the games here.

Mind you, she's actually terrible at all of them, but she's at least seen other people playing them before. The Crownings seem to go by a little more quickly when you know what's actually going on around you.

is something wrong?

[crabmunicator]

"No," he says, a little too sharp, a little too soon.

God, he sounds like an idiot. It's been forever since he's had a crush on anyone, and the last (on Terezi) was its own complicated mess, held for a good year before it ended with an explosion of idiocy on his part. He was used to it by then, is the thing. He might have been stupid, but he knew how to handle having feelings, and now that it's fresh again he feels as inept as he was at six sweeps. At least he plans no sweeping speech to woo her; he learned that lesson well with John.

The bit she wrote about games is gone from his mind so quick he might as well have never read it. He sips his juice and tries to think, but the only place his mind settles is back on their last meeting.

"Hey, did..." His mouth twists, frowning at himself. "This is going to sound stupid if I'm wrong. Did I--" Then softer, not wanting to be overheard, "Did I bite you, that time?"

He's still not looking at her.

[reassures]

Maybe he's trying to sound like there's nothing wrong, but if he is then he's failing at it so completely that there probably isn't much point to it. Unless he doesn't want anyone else to know about it, but he's probably not going to succeed at that like this.

At least it doesn't last when he starts talking again, and though Nill hadn't thought he remembered that whole thing very well she doesn't exactly look surprised at the question. It doesn't exactly help to make the whole thing less uncomfortable, and her wings flutter a little, but she's not going to try to talk him out of that suspicion when it's true.

yes.
it didn't really hurt.

She was fine, and she believes that - a bruise is nothing to her at this point, but she's not sure Karkat will believe it.

[crabmunicator]

He's more nervous than he should be as her writing utensil scratches across the paper, but once she shows it all it takes is the first word to get him turning toward her. His eyes are open, but his brow pinched with worry, and he meets her gaze properly for the first time yet.

"Shit, how hard? Let me see your arm," he asks, barely thinking, reaching toward her without touching. He bit her, he really bit her; and he remembers the dream itself, how it had been her throat he was trying to close down on.

It doesn't even matter that she said it didn't hurt. He wants to see, and after everything from the arenas to Linden he doesn't trust her word about herself.