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

[shieldofrohan]

Éowyn's sniff is ladylike, but no less transparently contemptuous for that. "Native? I should sooner be native to a dunghill than to this place."

She takes the cigarette with some caution, examines it for a moment, then takes a drag - she's not much of a smoker, but what harm can it do? It tastes more or less like the pipeweed the Halflings favour, and any difference is too subtle for her inexperienced palate. Mostly, she's curious about the thing itself, which is certainly not a pipe. But that's the least strange thing about this place, so she doesn't comment on it as she hands it back. Probably it's something from his own world.

"My thanks." Putting her shoes down beside her, she settles her back against the tree and gives him a little smile and a nod. "Éowyn is my name, by the way. Éowyn, Éomund's daughter. And you?"

[ka_sera_sera]

Roland's eyebrows rise. He's had a few occasions in his time in Panem when introducing himself in that way felt appropriate. Never has it felt quite this appropriate, though. Good to hear something that reminds him so of his own home. Strange, but good. "Roland, son of Steven. Well met, Éowyn."

He nods at her, then takes a moment to carefully fit his two newest fingers once again around the cigarette and continues, slowly. "And I'd take care with my words, were I you. You're a newer tribute, then?" Definitely not a Capitolite, despite the outfit, and he's fairly sure he'd have heard about a tribute this openly contemptuous of their hosts. "Shared that sentiment with anyone since you arrived?"

[shieldofrohan]

"With enough to find it unpopular," she admits after a moment, tucking a loose strand of hair back behind her ear and looking up at the sky. No stars, she notes, with a pang; they are drowned out by the lights. "I should regret my loose tongue, I know. Yet all I find it in me to regret is that I had not the time to break that arrogant maggot's jaw for his rotten words, ere they pulled me away."

She looks at him with a smile that's almost sly, but mostly just bitter, and sighs. "And now you will counsel me to hold my tongue and choose my battles, in a place so fraught with enemies. This song, I know well enough; you may spare me the singing of it. Only tell me, Roland son of Steven, is it truly worth the perjury to live life as chattel, and never see the stars?"

[ka_sera_sera]

He thinks about that. Tilts his head back, studies that same lack of stars. "Yes." Need to be careful, here, so he takes a moment. Takes another drag from the cigarette and thinks through his phrasing. "Let your first little rebellions run their course. You're new. They'll think it's cute. Then settle in. Play your part here, so long as you need to. You'll see the stars again."

"But of course you knew all that." He tilts his head at her, expression dry. "Tell me, where're you planning on making your noble last stand? Here? In the shopping districts? Make it in the tribute tower, if you would, district four. I haven't gotten to see any of our guards really use their weapons yet."

[shieldofrohan]

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," she says, but it's a lie, one she doesn't bother to keep up. With a harsh little laugh, she shakes her head and admits, "If I availed myself of shield and spear, I could beat them back for a few minutes on the stairwell. Seven, not Four, for I've a score to settle with the slime that calls himself Escort there. It would last perhaps five minutes, if fortune favoured me, but I would at least leave them with a thorough mess."

There's a sharp kind of humour in her own expression, and she shakes her head. "If I still had any true intent to do so, of course, I should hardly tell you so. I am not yet fool enough for that."

[ka_sera_sera]

He snorts. "And generous too." His expression's wry, because he's certain she's given no thought to what he's about to say. Her caution seems all for herself. "Don't tell any of us, Éowyn. Not a one. Not unless you mean to make enemies of them or see them brought down with you. Any one of us who knows of something like that must either give the rebel away or be brought down as rebel themselves. I have people here, Éowyn, and I do not mean to leave them for the sake of a prisoner who can not control her own pride."

Roland lets his hard, flat tone sit in the air a moment, watching his hand turn over and the sets of gears on the end of it slowly, carefully, maneuver the cigarette until it's being held out. He offers it to her. "But of course, you knew that too. You've heard this song before."

[shieldofrohan]

He's judged her rightly, and she takes his words in quietly, her eyes downcast. She is, to her credit, ashamed. Ashamed to have forgotten, in all this madness, that she is not alone here; ashamed to have let herself be swept up so thoroughly in her own anger and grief that she was blinded to the truth around her. Ashamed that, on some level, she has not quite managed to divorce herself from being who she is in Ithilien or Edoras - someone whose acts and responsibilities are her own, and no-one else's. It should have been clear to her that she cannot be that person here.

She bites down on her lip, frowning, and is quiet for a long moment before taking the cigarette from him. "The song I know, but not that stanza," she says at last, taking a deep breath. "I forgot myself. And I thank you for recalling me." Her smile is small and taut, and more than a little apologetic; it looks rather out of place on her stern features. Taking another little breath of smoke, she looks down at the cigarette thoughtfully, her expression harder now.

[ka_sera_sera]

He judged her then, and is judging her still; watching her face, her posture. Watching her hear what he's said, and work to accept it. He judges her reaction, and finds it acceptable. If she's willing to put in the work to overcome her pride and even thank him for it, she may turn out to be better company than he'd expected. Most men wouldn't have handled his words half as well.

"Hm," he nods, acknowledging the thanks. It's hard, hearing something like that, and she likely needs some time without talk to distract her. He gives it for a few moments, looking over the garden, before he continues. "You wouldn't have made it to the stairwell, anyway. Shield and sword's too big to sneak out of the training rooms." His tone isn't teasing, but it is lighter. She heard what he said, obviously. There's no need to press the point.

[shieldofrohan]

"Doubtless." She half-smiles, breaking out of her reverie to pass back the cigarette, which has been burning down slowly towards her fingers. "Not to mention my leg is still stiff from bruising and my shield-arm aching and weak. In a song, it might be a worthy battle, but I fear there is enough left of the girl I once was that I sometimes forget that life is no song." The war should have taught her that, but it hadn't - perhaps because half her recollection of it was now told to others in verse, sung at the high tables of half of Gondor. When you had lived life as a song, and won the day, it became even harder to hold onto grim reality.

Well, she was going to have to learn to do it anyway. Once, in Edoras, she had found the strength to carry on without the hope of an ending or a victory. She knew it was in her. She just had to find it again now, without her uncle to bind her there.

[ka_sera_sera]

"Perhaps not." He watches the cigarette in his fingers for a second, then studies the look of one of the sets of red and gold armor standing nearby. "But there'll be glory to be had, daughter of Éomund. You only need to be patient."

[shieldofrohan]

"I have spent too long being patient. Standing in the shadows, watching things fall apart for want of the power to hold them together. And I have tasted glory, and it is not worth the waiting." She's talking to herself more than to him, though, and looking back up at the lights reflected in the sky. It's only after a moment more that she looks back at him, with a sad little smile. "People, though, are worthy of it. And at least I am practiced in patience, after all that."

[ka_sera_sera]

He grunts, nods. It's nothing to him, really, whether she is or isn't willing to play the part that's demanded of them, so long as she keeps others out of it. But it's good. They need every tribute they can get, especially those with a little self control and sense.

They. That nebulous they, whose move against the Capitol may be made now, or tomorrow, or next year. Or in the next ten years.

Never mind that. Worry about tonight.

"Good." He straightens from the tree, takes a last drag from the shitty little Capitol cigarette and dropping it. The little gear-spurs on the backs of his shoes jingle as he rubs it out. "Take your quiet where you can, s-" He shakes his head. Last he'd tried the capitol-run machine in his brain had been taking the sai in his mind and pushing it out from his lips as sir, and he doesn't want to deal with that particular social fumble right now. "-miss Éowyn. I'm sure it won't last."

And with that he turns and starts the walk back toward the crowning proper. Break's over.