thecapitol | The Crowning of Tony Stark

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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

"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.

Linden watches with interest as Phillip tries not to vomit. He's familiar with the signs, as they are not a particularly unusual sight at Capitol parties.

"You represent a spectrum of experience. You've survived something difficult, and most of them have not. It can't possibly come as a surprise that they see it as very fascinating," he says softly. "Unfortunately, until you become just like them, they'll see you that way, and they'll try to touch it."

The look on Phil's face steeled up when Lockhearst mentioned about becoming like them. Like HELL he'd become like the Capitolites, to let go of all the pain, affections, memories, and one particular case, revenge he had built up over the years just to be comfortable and carefree. To forget. No, he made a promise, he was keeping it, humiliation be damned.

"Then let them try and touch," he outright stated, "I can learn to deal with it. It's part of the job description anyways, right?"

The look on Phil's face calls to mind what Linden would describe as akin to a "proud Districter," one who risks much through defiance but prefers the risk to becoming what they hate most. He respects it even as he recognizes how dangerous it is.

"Even for one accustomed to doing very unpleasant things in his line of work, there are things that shouldn't be expected of any human being. I think your revulsion is, if not popular, at least appropriate."

As dangerous as it was to hold one's head high against the Capitol, Phillip had been through rock bottom back at Freddy Fazbear's. He was done covering up the grisly guard deaths just for the company's name and to keep the bots safe. Lot of good that did. He resisted the call to murder his fellow tributes on that principle alone: there was only one person in the Universe that he would willingly go that low, to get his hands dirty. Linden probably knew this man in passing, as he was thankfully not in Panem, but if Gray ever found the one referred to as the Purple Man…no, this was a time to celebrate Tony Stark's win.

"Thanks for the assurance, Sir." He really was thankful and allowed himself to smile at Linden, "I just…I just hope I don't ever have to use those skills again, you know?" he said almost wistfully. Maybe one day, he'd forget the proper combinations of acids to dissolve bone, or how to wash blood off circuitry. It was always nice to dream.

"You're welcome, of course. If it really helps, I'm glad to have done something in that capacity. And yes; I know, very well."

He rubs at his arm.

"I'm about ready to find something stronger than beer. Let me track down an Avox... do you want something too?"

"Oh! Um, I'll take whiskey or bourbon if they have it," Phillip added, revising tonight's goal from 'slightly buzzed' to 'still standing but not all there'. He knew he wasn't about to last the night completely there, more if the memories flood back.

I'm going to give my liver a break tonight, the man thought and kept an eye on any Capitolite who still made the mistake of confusing the Mentor for an avox.

"Great idea," Linden says, tone flat but far from sarcastic. He means that, wholly and genuinely. "I'll spring for the same, I think. A shot of whiskey and a shot of bourbon for both of us."

So much for drinking responsibly tonight, at least where Linden is concerned.

The idea of sticking to beer went out the window the moment Linden brought up bidding and Phil remembered just how much crap he'd have to take before the night was done.

"What happened to pacing ourselves?" he laughed at the shots but didn't say no, that was a given. Besides, Johnnie Walker used to be a luxury for the guard but here? It flows like water.

Linden glances at Phil as an Avox fills his hands with four carefully-balanced shot glasses.

"Quick is a pace," he offers, shrugging as he tips back his two shots at once.

Phil is almost morally obligated to take his own shots, or Linden is likely to make them disappear, too.

Gray ain't saying no to the beautiful shots, and he put his previous life to good use. He slings them back and grimaces for a moment to let slip, "Quick is definitely a pace. Thank God I hate Jaegerbombs." Phil no.

Yeah, Linden may have just found himself a drinking partner at this day and age: Phone Guy may not have his Mentor's liver but it can keep up on short bursts.

Linden laughs, seeming surprised that he threw both of them back. They're both going down this hole together, it looks like, and even though they're enabling each other worrisomely, it's a lot more comforting than getting drunk "socially" while really being quite alone.

"The drunker I am, the less picky I am about my alcohol. Which... is really a recipe for disaster when you think about it," he says wryly.

That was probably the first time Phil had ever heard Linden laugh as he did just now. It was a surprisingly nice sound considering how wrecked they're going to be. Any other time, enabling was a terrible, terrible idea but if that was a possible outcome? This was an exception.

"You get less picky...I get more expensive," Gray added, "I start with beer and I end up with black label whiskey. Or is it blue?"

This hole is getting deep and they'll be in danger of drowning.

Linden's laughter is rare and usually forced or uncomfortable. The exception is when he's drinking, during that fleeting point when he's just relaxed enough for it without being over the edge, sloppy and nearly out of his mind blackout-drunk. It's a brief window, but he's almost normal in this window; it's easy to see why he'd chase it again and again, that brief moment of flight before the inevitable and violent crash-landing.

"More expensive, for quantity or quality?" Linden asks, still slightly breathless. "Sometimes I wake up and can't believe my bar tabs."

"Both!" the giggle arising from Phil's throat was slurry and almost too giddy to come from the same man that almost stated his loyalties outright for the Capitol to hear. "I tend to try and taste the life I couldn't afford before. By the end of the month, my tab was worth half my monthly salary." In a place that perpetuated the drinking, completing the cycle.

He does sip some water, he wants the hell to not be too unbearable. "At least here, I drink for free, I-I just gotta die a few times."

Linden groans; he's been there, and he's a Victor; his salary as a Mentor and the winnings he still collects are a ridiculous amount of money and he frankly doesn't know what to do with it most of the time. He's poor at handling money, but his tastes are simple and often crude; he doesn't drink for the taste, he drinks to get wasted and forget his own name so he doesn't have to answer when people recognize him and shout it his way.

"When you drink enough, it's the same thing, you know," he slurs thoughtfully. "Blacking out, passing out, here's to all those better deaths..."

To all those deaths, somehow, in that increasingly intoxicated state, Phillip managed to say this, "And don't forget the little death, the best one of all," and took another shot of whiskey while he was at it. He probably didn't plan to let that idea flow in an event that was teeming with gossip magazines, but hey it fit.

"One day, I'm gonna be able to sleep again, without this stuff," he added then shrugged, "But until then, we'll take what we can."

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