thecapitol | The Crowning of Tony Stark

Entry tags:

The Crowning of Tony Stark

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

All quips aside, and as soon as Gray offered a water bottle instead of another glass, it'll help and Linden knows it, he got back to his more level tones, especially concerning Stephen.

"What happened to Stephen as of late? Before the Arena, he was fine, he was on the ball. Or at least that's what I saw then. And I wasn't kidding, I'd miss you, don't die."

To see Reagan go from generally put-together to...well, the tabloids will show exactly why Phil has been avoiding going out of the Tower again. For the record, he thought they were going to a normal club, okay?

Linden stares at the water bottle with initial resentment, but he takes it reluctantly, uncapping it and wincing as he refills his shot glass with it and downs the empty-tasted fluid that is incidentally necessary for his survival.

"If you want to know something about 6..." he mumbles, "rainy days are national holidays. Water's rationed. This is a full day," he lies firmly, holding up the empty shot glass. "Therefore, I can definitely do another shot before the hour's over."

He's looking for an Avox, even as two or three people passing him seem to, again, mistake him for one.

"I don't know what is going on with Stephen. I've always been a screw-up, but this isn't like him. Your guess is really as good as mine."

"Nice try, though it gives me even more motivation to try and win the next Arena, or at least get Clementine to win somehow," Phil remarked, "Pace yourself, okay? At least one of us has to be on their best for when the, uh, paparazzi come in." He was hoping there wouldn't be any questions about his outing, just stick to the Arena and prying questions about his past. At this point, Gray felt more comfortable about how he knew things like decomposition rates.

"I just don't want him to burn out. He really seemed to care about District 6 as you do." That was a comment on the level of commitment Gray saw, and by the way Linden spoke. "Though it probably helps he's a Capitolite, he gets a pass with the outfits."

Wait.

"How much of your Tributes do you know about?" Yeah, there might be some inner District mutiny to add to the whole "District 6 is currently a mess" mill. Phil could at least give Linden the head's up that if he ran into Dandy in the Arena.

"Right... you're motivated to win so you can be a Mentor, too, and help pick up some of the slack around this District's staff?" Linden asks, quirking a brow. "I guess it couldn't hurt... honestly, you seem competent and like you wouldn't be a pain to work with."

He pours another shot glass of water, sipping at it and wincing less noticeably at how empty it tastes. For someone who loves rain and is very nearly moved to tears at the sight and sound and feel of it on his skin, Linden really dislikes drinking water, even after countless miserable hangovers.

"Stephen always did care about 6, and its Tributes, and its staff," he says quietly, raising his empty shot glass and peering through the bottom like a kaleidoscope. "He's been at this for years, worked with me for many of them, and I've always known him to be patient and generous with his time and empathy. This is out of left field... but the outfits frankly aren't much worse than what he's always worn."

The final question gets a slow glance. "Some things. I talk to some of my Tributes more, and some not so much... why? Is there something you think I should know?" he asks, gaze shrewd and interested.

"I never said that, I meant that District 6 would get more water supplies and get Clem out of the Arena," The way Phil rubbed the back of his neck showed he was being honest about that. "I wouldn't be that great, trust me. With the whole, uh, failing at my original job." And getting those kids and a few guards killed in his mistakes.

That is enough for Linden to suffer through and Gray simply grabs (and thanks the Avox) a bottle of beer for the man to enjoy. "Maybe he's in trouble with someone, I don't want him to go and be replaced with someone else." A pencil pusher or something like that. "And I figured after that little feathery number."

To Linden's gaze, Phil took another shot, and whispered to his Mentor in a rather cool and unlike his usual self, "If I run into Dandy Mott, I'll pull the same stunt Nick did on Beth. On purpose." So maybe his plan to get Dandy into the Capitol would be delayed. "Especially if he harms a child." That should be hint enough.

"Fair enough... I can definitely get behind that," Linden murmurs. If Clementine was out of the Arena, it would also mean that Nill wouldn't be so preoccupied trying to take care of her, meaning that maybe, just maybe the young woman would be able to last a little bit longer in the following Arena.

Fat chance... as long as there are children, or people she perceives as needing her care, she'll sacrifice herself for them again and again. You know that.

"You sell yourself short. Sometimes just knowing how to fail goes a long way toward succeeding in the future, so..."

He accepts the beer gratefully. It's not his favorite drink, it's barely enough to contribute to a light buzz even with Linden's reed-thin frame, but it's something alcoholic and certainly some calories. "I don't deal well with change," he says flatly. "I like Stephen. We have rapport, we know each other and how to work with and around our respective tendencies. If they bring in someone else now, well... let's just say you'll get to see 6 when it's actually a hot mess. So I don't want him to be replaced, either."

He drains the beer bottle past the neck as Phil makes his opinion on Dandy known, very blatantly. His eyes widen slightly, eyebrows traveling toward his dark hairline.

"I know you don't get along, but..." he seems like he's grappling with whether or not to call the kettle black or simply let it slide. "For the sake of getting sponsorships, at least try to get along with your Districtmates outside of the Arena, OK? I know you're from places and backgrounds that couldn't be more different, but your fans still associate the two of you. You belong to 6 as long as you're a part of this."

"I'd rather sell myself short and-" Phil remembered someone very dear to him say that. It hurt to consider that person gone, and the Phone Guy missed him terribly, "Keep my expectations low as sin. Th-that way, it won't be so bad when I screw up. And not everyone's equipped to deal with sudden mix-ups. You've been handling it so far."

And there were went a long and loaded gulp from his drink.

"I can try but I won't hold my tongue if he starts giving me trouble," He knows he's being immature, bratty even, and yet, Phillip can't find a shit to give when it comes to Dandy. "I don't mind working for the better of the District, it gives me a goal and people to focus on, but I..." He truly believed in this, in every inquiry he'd made to both his mentor and his escort, that he could do more here than he ever could at home.

But how can he tell Linden of Dandy's threat to those he cared about? About the true nature of the man? For the District and for his own sanity, Gray put up a front and nodded, if tensely, "I'll do my best, Linden."

Linden would be lying if he claimed that he couldn't commiserate. Expectations are a bitch, and living up to them is even harder; as the guy who has spent over a decade getting systematically wasted to deal with difficult realities, he can attest to the fact that giving others no reason to rely on you is a gentler and kinder way to fail.

"'Handling it' is kind of the bare minimum," he mumbles against the mouth of his bottle. "Unfortunately, more tends to be expected of Mentors. Certainly of Escorts, since they got their jobs through politics and personality and not because they won a reality TV competition."

He thinks he was trying to make a point, and wonders if it's slipped away from him as he tilts the bottle back again. A couple passing people look interested; Avoxes don't drink, but ah-- a closer look reveals that he's not one, just dressed unnervingly similarly.

"I've seen a lot of Games," Linden says in an undertone. "I mean, a lot. I think I've become pretty decent at learning to tell when a person does what he has to in order to survive in the Arena, and when the Games just give him an opportunity to be who is really is with immunity. What I'm saying is... I truly understand your frustration with this man. If he gives you trouble, any trouble, come to me with it and I'll sort it out. That's part of my job. Your job is just to look as viable and as good to sponsors as possible, so even if you're sure you're coming up short, do your very best."

Phil struggled internally for a moment to even consider the Hunger Games as anything similar to the still infant genre of reality television back in his home world. Last he checked, The Real World wasn't built on the deaths of their participants or on politics (even if he did root for some of the more creative fights then). Hell, even those so-called documentaries weren't striving to be the most shocking. But the seeds were there, as it turned out, Panem just took it to the logical extreme and he was merely living the spectacle.

"Where I come from, all reality shows were nothing more but glimpses into the lives of the rich and famous, or pseudo-famous," the guard began, "Celebrities were chosen to see which ones would make the most drama." Those were innocent times.

Something about Linden's advice stuck to Gray. He'd made the mistake of trying to do everything by himself after Jeremy was attacked, holding off the night shift then searching for the killer. He was about to do the same here, biting a lot more than he could chew. Sure he handled the murderer then but the man slipped away into obscurity. Phillip had to see Dandy every day as long as both were in District 6. As resilient as he was, he was still human. What his Mentor was offering, the old Phone Guy would've kindly rejected and carried himself to an early grave again.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it, sir, " more than Linden will ever know, as it finally allowed Phil to rest easy and genuinely smile for the first time during the Crowning. "If you can, please keep an eye on Julian."

They might be on opposite ends of a very extreme spectrum, but the Hunger Games are absolutely a reality TV show, albeit with young, unknown faces and oftentimes unwilling participation. Maybe seeing what the genre's become has irreversibly soured some of the new Tributes on what they once found entertaining.

"Glimpses into the lives of the rich and famous...?" Linden asks. "I can see how those things are linked, but none of us are celebrities before the Games... only after."

And it is so overrated.

Despite his years of substance abuse and the toll they've taken on his mind and body, Linden's pretty sharp, good at understanding motivation and character and piecing together aspects to form a complete picture. His childhood desire to find lost things still lives on that way, looking for the truth even if it means digging through a lot of broken glass, but more invaluable by far than a knack is the experience and skill that's come with over a decade mentoring.

"Thanks aren't necessary," he's quick to assure the man. "As I said, it's part of my job, and if a District suite can't get along it hurts all of us. It's in everyone's best interest to have a harmonious dynamic... even if it's just the appearance of one. And of course I'll keep an eye on Julian, but... can I ask why? Do you have reason to be concerned in particular about him?"

The Games and the culture of celebrity worship had become more than just soured for Phillip; it had turned a slowly toxic cloud over what had once been an innocent if voyeuristic hobby. Something to pass the time while waiting for the next shift and foray into Freddy Fazbear's. Now? Now he just wanted to sleep and be able to wake up without death watching over him like a guardian who never left his side along with the soulless electronic eyes that stared from the edge of his eyesight. Twelve pairs, never relenting.

"And everyone with a pulse after the Arena is invited to the parties. Somehow, I'd rather go back to obscurity, maybe open a bar, a restaurant, or something." The irony of a recovering alcoholic running a bar or anything related to booze made the Phone Guy chuckle self-deprecatingly.

For this, Phil decided to go in a more subtle route, "Because out of all the people I care about, Julian's the one with the least amount of combat experience." The hints were there: Dandy has threatened those I care about, but Julian is the nearest target. "I will do my best to show as much support on camera, smile and talk sweet about my fellow Tributes."

Edited 2015-04-03 02:39 (UTC)

"They are popular that way," Linden says dryly as he takes another swig of beer, chuckling darkly at the suggestion of opening a bar. He knows for a fact that were he in such a position, he'd put himself out of business before the grand opening, and probably have to be scraped off the floor to boot. Obscurity, though... that idea gets a smile that softens the Mentor's sharp, harsh features momentarily.

He remembers being a child in 6, struggling to find books to read, sneaking glances at the pages between factory machines. No one noticed him then, and no one cared, but the moment his name was read by the attending escort, suddenly he was thrown into a new world where there weren't any dark corners to hide.

The hints about Julian and Dandy aren't perhaps as subtle as Phillip might believe, but either way, Linden picks up on them swiftly, nodding in comprehension. "You do that for me... talk sweet, smile, all of those things, and I'll be sure to see that nothing happens to Julian in our suite."

To the best of his ability, anyway; that's implied. While Linden is protected by laws that guard Mentors and other staff members from violent actions, Linden is one of the frailer individuals in the tower, and if altercations get physical, he's unlikely to last long.

To be forgotten, to be just someone else in the crowd, made the Phone Guy wish he wouldn't have to fight so hard at it. That one day, people like his Mentor could retire and get the help they needed while he just worked a honest's day's work. "I'm...jealous of them," he whispered to Linden, watching the Capitolites giggling and dancing along with the music. "E-Even before I went to the Arena. They have no care in the world." They didn't have to deal with everything the world threw at them, or survive.

He then realized what he was saying, "N-Not to say they don't have worries, that's a given. It's just...I'll stop now."

Phillip wasn't one to bullshit when something went wrong, but to keep the apparent harmony, he chose his words. Not perfect and if he wasn't that focused on survival, he'd be a little less direct. The assurance alone was enough to have him relax again.

"Don't be jealous," Linden says quietly, rather than agreeing that it would be better for Phillip to just stop speaking. "Mental invalids, Morphling addicts and Avoxes don't have a care in the world, either; think of it in those terms and count yourself lucky to be aware and present."

Someone barks at him to get them a drink, and then notably shrivels when he turns an icy stare on them.

"My stylists meant well, but this can't go on."

That may have been blunt but Phil catches the hint, and nodded at the line of thinking Linden was aiming for. It was better to be aware of your surroundings rather than float on by without ever knowing the dangers ahead.

Though the orders seemed to have snapped the Phone Guy out of his thoughts and merely gave the Capitolite a quick look of confusion. They can all see that this man isn't an Avox, right?

Without much ado, Phillip took off his gloves and offered to Linden, "Will these help? I dunno if they'll fit but, it'll make you stand out more from the Avoxes."

Much better, and anyone who had ever survived an Arena could say as much with full certainty. Being unaware, even blissfully so, could cost a person dearly. That's actually how Linden got the scar slicing across his throat, because that was what happened when a person succumbed to the pleasure of trust and companionship in dangerous places.

The removal of Phillip's gloves causes Linden's eyes to widen in surprise, but he doesn't hesitate to take them when they're offered. They don't fit; Linden seems shrimpy and stunted in a lot of ways, giving him dimensions that are more typical of an adolescent who's not gotten broader shoulders or a strong, masculine jawline courtesy of a final growth spurt. Though his fingers are very long, his hands are thin and spindly, and the gloves almost look silly on him... but they'll solve his problem.

"Yeah, thanks... that helps a lot, Phillip. I owe you one. The next time someone tries to make a passive-aggressive point and it involves you, I'll be quite sure to lend you some of my clothes."

"I have a feeling you're joking," Phil quipped and drank the rest of his serving in one swoop. "I can't exactly, uh, take off anything else. I'm basically wearing a corset at the moment." The Stylist may have gone a subtle route with Linden but not so much the others. "Never thought I'd say that and mean it."

The Stylist warned him not to eat anything but screw that noise.

"Besides, passive-aggressive insults will probably become a sport at this point," Gray remarked grabbing another drink and thanked the Avox for it. Not that it'd make his life easier but hey, you only live as long at the Capitol lets you.

"No, I'm being at least half-serious," Linden says, glancing his Tribute briefly up and down and registering the corset he's indeed wearing. It looks tight and uncomfortable, and Linden's grateful that he's never been forced to wear one, even if that probably means his stylists thought he wasn't vital enough to pull one off for any meaningful amount of time.

"You're right, it is a sport," he agrees. "A very rewarding one if you're adept at it... it's one way to say what you feel so that you don't go crazy, and it also keeps you out of trouble. I've slipped up lately, but I'll be in top form again soon, mark my words."

"Well I know I can count on a spare change of clothes if I get myself in a pickle," Phil smiled with a hint of hope to see his Mentor in full health, or at least to see Linden sober and off Morphling. From what he was seeing, Lockhearst had a wit to slip that insult into the apology letter and still get away with it.

"I'll hold you to it then. You and Stephen, I know you'll keep us all safe," the man agreed and did his best to not shift too often or-

Or catch the eye of anyone who was looking for a Tribute to play with. A gaudy young Capitolite, almost drawing close to a clearly stiff Phillip. It wasn't until she recognized Linden that she was dissuaded from beckoning the man into her group of friends.

"Um...did you get that when you were in the Victory Circle?" he blurted out, not aware of the Capitolites' sense of entitlement was probably worse.

Linden has a sharp and biting wit, at least when it's not wholly obfuscated by drugs and alcohol. The more sober he is, the angrier and more effective he becomes, which is a great incentive for President Snow to ensure that he remains in the thrall of his vices.

The young woman's eyes widen when they make contact with Linden's, and then she's hastily averting them and retreating back to her circle of friends. Linden turns back to Phillip at the question, quirking a brow.

"That's right," he confirms dully. "She's not great in bed, by the way. I was her 18th birthday present, and she tries way too hard."

"Wait, what? You were her...okay, uh, oh..." Linden would be able to see the dawning horror in Phillip's face as he realized what that sentence meant, "Not even a thank you for being at her birthday. G-good to know about her sleeping habits, making note of that." He really had to rein in his rambling whenever he was this nervous.

Watching the Capitolites strut off caused a chill to go down the man's stomach and caused him to finish his drink in a few gulps. He had no power of choice if the Capitol intervene, just conveniently placed questions that meant nothing to them.

Edited 2015-04-13 05:11 (UTC)

Linden raises his own drink in a half-hearted toast before taking a deep drink of it.

"There's not much humans can't get used to," he offers. "The indignity of it is unpleasant, of course, but when you win, even when you just compete, people want your company. You get used to it, and then new Victors appear and your looks start going and that kind of request starts to taper off. Mine are rare these days."

He pauses.

"I know that a lot of you off-worlders are very uncomfortable with the institution, so... as your Mentor, I can see if Stephen and I can pull some strings and keep you out of it as much as possible."

Phillip closed his eyes and did his best to center himself, that this was the norm. If he could do what he did to cover up the truth for his employer's company and keep the animatronics safe, what was a bit of…that? Surely they'd treat their guests with some sort of respect? That notion flew out the window and crashed as soon as he remembered that Linden had been the girl's gift not a guest. Not even worth the title, an object.

"Thanks," he breathed out and allowed himself to indulge in another glass, yep, getting into that buzzed limits he'd set out to keep. "I appreciate it and I'm sure that other Tributes would thank you as well. Does bidding happen…often? Or is it like a f-flavor of the week sorta deal?" He could at least prepare if there was no way to avoid. "Hell I can't even wish that on Dandy, no offense."

If Linden notices the way this is all affecting Phillip, practically making him dizzy with the barrage of blase and disturbing information, he gives no indication. Just continues to sip, with the occasional gulp.

"No problem," he agrees languidly, even though, in all likelihood, it would be, just a little. "And bidding isn't really... it's more like a secret everyone knows than some kind of... I don't know, auction, or something along those lines." He laughs, seeming to find the thought of that highly entertaining. "If a Capitolite fancies a Tribute, they go through the proper channels... back channels... and they work out a deal with Snow or those he's delegated the responsibility to. Money changes hands and then so does whatever they ask for. Sex isn't all people want, though it's certainly popular, especially if the Victors won recently or are especially attractive. It could be anything from babysitting a child to playing a game of chess, or maybe..." he turns his drink in his hands. "Playing out a fantasy, usually one involving power, the... idea is that Victors are the strongest in Panem, so if you can best them, you're strong, too. I understand the allure."

He rattles this all off more or less automatically, then says, pretty bluntly, "If I had to guess, your bidders might want to wear suits. Of the kind you don't like. Maybe even foxes."

That last answer made Gray sufficiently nauseous that he has to cover his mouth to stop himself from losing the contents of the stomach in public. Man up, Phil, his conscience berated, You faced them for years, now you're scared to see them again? The answer was a resounding yes. Of course he was, because the people inside the suits were worse in every way. The bots still had the decency to end it quick.

"I figured they'd...go there. I wouldn't be that surprised," he admitted, as if facing his fear head on.

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