The Victor is...

[gamemakers]

Who| EVERYONE. IC participation is mandatory (OOC is not, you may handwave)
What| Momoko's victory crowning
Where| The ball room
When| The Wednesday before the next arena.
Warnings/Notes| None atm.

The party was styled for Momoko.

The tables were covered in lace, delicate dishes and silverware, flowers that fell from vases covered in Victorian paintings. It was the most extravagant tea party to ever be thrown, with tiny, thin china cups and a too many tiny little finger foods being passed around to count. The ballroom has been styled in extravagant Baroque, as the Capitol was fairly liberal with their adaption of historical time periods.

The costumes were just as liberally chosen, from tall, powdered wigs holding birdcages with live birds, clearly hailing in the style of Marie Antoinette to regency gowns gathered under daringly (and occasionally outright) exposed busts to tight corsets and the skeletons of skirts exposed and decorated. A quarter played live music at one end of the room, before a wide dance floor.

At the head of the room there was a long table with a throne for Momoko, as elaborate as anything else in the room. And along the long table, group close to those who they seemed to enjoy, was a place for many of the Tributes, with a small place card that said "Special guest of The Capitol." This table was fed first, received drinks first, and was clearly favored.

Any Tributes not seated at the long table with their peers were dispersed among the the smaller table spread about the room, left to rub elbows with the guests invited from the Capitol, and the reporters covering the event. Security was, if anything, tighter than the last crowning.

These people have seats a the big kids table. You guys are free to decide who sits by who (And if three people sit by one person, don't worry too much about it) but they are, when possible set by their friends:

Atticus Bell
Draco Malfoy
Chibi-Usa
Dr. Grey
Adel
Tony Stark
Howard Bassem
Javert Neeshka
Vanessa Carlysle
Lindsey McDonald
R
Albert Wesker
K
Alpha
Diana
Katurian
Aunamee
Maximus
Blaine Anderson
Alex Rider
Glinda
Gaila
Parker
John Watson
Lottie LaBouff

Comments

SMALL TABLES

[gamemakers]

Re: SMALL TABLES

[justoutrunyou]

Sandy was sullen as ever, resting her head on her palm, elbow on the table letting her eyes wander around the room. She'd been practically forced into a cute little dress with a bow on the back. Powder blue. She felt like a child half her age.

"I guess she was onto something after all." She sighed remembering Momoko's "advice" to her back in the arena.

Re: SMALL TABLES

[splendid_roman]

"Nice dress," Ian said, as he brought his drink over to the table. He couldn't imagine any girl or woman not liking being complimented on her clothes. "Who was onto what?"

[big_badass_hero]

The last time Chris had been in a hall anyehwere close to this extravagant it had been the police Station back home, the grand ballroom was the quickest way to get to the back hall where the S.T.A.R.S. office was. This... awed him a little. He was amused the stylist dressed him in green, it had been the color of his uniform back home, the gold trim though, he could pass on and the tights... what is it with them putting him in skin tight clothing?

Finding his table though hadn't been that hard. And really all he wanted to do was disappear. This crowning bit... Was sicker than the games in a way, more twisted, just showing the others in the arena that they failed to win their freedom right? Though in this place... The arena's at least more sane. I can understand fights, politics... that was more Wesker's thing. He did glance up to the big table glaring at Wesker a moment.

[teethofneedles]

Karis flops down at Chris' table, shooed in by her handler. Karis snarls a curse after her and then stares at Chris sullenly. She's dressed relatively conservatively - not showing off cleavage, at least - but the black dress she's wearing has some eye-catch red piping and lace on it, especially around the neck.

"This is bullshit," she finally snarls, "I'm not a damn dress-up doll!"

[itwasrhetorical]

Glinda was doing anything she could to avoid going to the big table. She didn't want to be scrutinised by those who would be looking at her. She didn't care for her dress either. It was too revealing for her tastes and Glinda was finding the undercorset far too tight compared to her normal corsets.

"Mister Redfield." She greeted, pausing by his table. "How nice it is to see a familiar face." The witch admitted.

[president_evil]

As if on cue, Wesker turned from the conversation he had been having with the tribute on his right and looked across the floor, gaze landing on Chris' unerringly.

They eyes were shuttered away behind his dark lenses, per usual, but somehow there was still weight to his stare. A power.

With a lilt of his lips, his lifted his glass in a small, silent toast.

[doc_holi]

She looked ridiculous. She felt ridiculous. She hated these people. At least her stylists seemed almost apologetic about forcing her to wear this... or they were acting that way.

Holiday was donned in a long, dark green, frilly dress. It had some golden accents with a lot of lace and folds and those stupid long sleeves that's probably going to get into her food. Her hair was even up on top of her head in a Victorian style way... All of her hair. It was even peppered with little gold flowers. And her makeup made her look like a glowing gem and she hated it.

The worst of all was the huge bust this dress gave her. The extremely low neck line did not go unnoticed. Yes, it had crossed her thoughts that sex appeal may be able to help her win over sponsors, but a huge rack won't save her from someone like Aunamee.

So, she just stayed at one of the tables in silence. She wasn't going to act like she hated it, but she wasn't planning on mingling too much. Aside from the color on this thing, she was not a fan of this entire deal.

[the_marshal]

Some time after she'd seated herself, a gentlemen in a getup complete with tails and carvat - and looking strangely at ease in them - approached the table.

"Evenin', ma'am." Wyatt stopped behind an open chair, sweeping his new hat - in the same creamy faun as the rest of his outfit - off his head politely. "This seat taken?"

[big_badass_hero]

"See I'm not the only one they conned into the green. Looks better on you though Doc." He was being polite, and since she was from the same district level he was doing his best not to make her comfortable.

[lessthanelementary]

Neffa might have been more at peace with his ensemble had it not been for the wig. He'd let them paint his face and fill every juncture between pieces of clothing with gathered lace, and even managed to keep from protesting when they came at him with the perfume; but only the thought of all the pins it had taken to affix it kept him from tearing off the white-powdered horror and its hideous blue highlights. It itched abominably. Maybe it was a way of making impending public murder seem a desirable option.

Conversation. That would take his mind off of it. He wasn't prepared to attempt eating with the bell-shaped sleeves they'd inflicted on him, and he didn't much feel like creating an audience for his inexperience with this place, so when he sat, it was beside one of the few people in the room who looked as uncomfortable as he felt. He gave Holiday a brief smile as he joined her at her table, and the half-minute it took him to arrange the hem of his coat such that he wasn't sitting on it gave him time to plan his approach.

Commenting on her clothes wasn't going to gain him anything. She was likely as desperate for something else to think about as he was. (And, really, there were only so far a conversation like So how well do you think satin burns was going to take them, anyway.)

Instead, he neatly plucked a bite-sized sandwich from a plate as it passed him, holding it up to the light to squint at it, and finally proffering it to Holiday with exaggerated puzzlement (and a sardonic twist to his mouth).

"Is this why they're called the Hunger Games?"

[acro_bat_ic]

Barbara... Burst out laughing.

It wasn't exactly the best introduction she could have managed, in all honesty; but that dress... that hair...?

She hadn't come out of it much better, though; with her short hair, they'd put a powdered wig on her head - which she was planning to conveniently lose at the first opportunity. Her slim athletic build hadn't given them much to work with, either. Not with these sort of fancy dresses, anyway. She looked more clothes than person in it.

"They don't expect us to fight in these things, do they?"

[morethathityou]

It was Callista's first taste of the opulence of the Capitol. The dress and wig she's wearing were beautiful, but worth more than some of the wealth of planets she knew.

She sat at her table and watched the things going on around her, curious about the people who were forced into this situation and even more so about the ones who belonged her. The citizens of the Capitol were fascinating in a way. Mostly because she wasn't entirely sure what to make of them just yet.

[splendid_roman]

"Hello," Ian said, sitting down and picking up something that he wasn't quite sure what it was, but it was edible and that was all that counted. "You look well dressed up."

[gruesome]

Some was an eternal trial to his stylist, particularly for themed events like this one. There was no way to make a 'giant hairy stick-bug,' as he'd heard her call him to one of her team, complement a setting like this one. But she had done her best, all the same. He wore a close-fitted jacket in a pale green, its squared hem cut to allow for his shape and heavy with scrolling black embroidery. There was more green on his face, carefully painted onto his fur to create the illusion that he wore an intricate mask, even hinting that there might be a human face beneath. The crest of fur on his head had been combed up and made to stay that way, gold-brown streaks bleached into it and a spray of pale, long leaves woven into it to dangle down by his face.

He'd hoped to sit beside Lottie, but she'd been invited to the top table and he had not. So he did not look forward to awkward conversations about food with whomever he wound up beside.

[teethofneedles]

Karis, as was rather typical of her, hadn't bothered to stick with her assigned seating. She'd prowled off, ostensibly to find the drinks, but really to see what else was going on in the giant hall. Much like Some, her stylists tended to despair when it came to her - she was all rotting flesh, bony arms and decay - but they'd managed to get her into a conservative dress with scarlet trim and lace. They'd even managed to get her hair into something resembling complacency. They really couldn't hide her teeth, though, as much as they'd like to.

She flopped into a seat next to Some with a rude gesture at a group of staring Capitol citizens and then glanced at her new neighbor. "Well, aren't you a pretty one."

Not that she can really tell about the colors. She's colorblind, after all.

[battroll]

"I'll say one thing for this place," Bruce said, more conversationally than might be expected, when he first saw who else was sitting at the small table everyone seemed to be pointing him towards. "You meet the most interesting people."

He was watching Some a little warily as he pulled out his chair to sit, but was doing so as unobtrusively as possible. He'd seen the footage of the games, of course, so he'd seen this... being? before, even if he hadn't met him. He just wasn't sure what to do about it. And here....

"How much is part of the costume?"

Re: SMALL TABLES

[splendid_roman]

Ian was used to dressing in appropriate clothing for the time periods he'd been in, so he looked perfectly at home despite the wig and tight trousers. The women he was trying to avert his eyes from and he was glad when a woman sitting opposite with a very low cut dress got up and left.

At least he was until someone's bird escaped and decided to use his shoulder as a toilet. Ian made a face at it, waved it off and tried to wipe the stain off with a napkin.

Re: SMALL TABLES

[polyturtle]

'Small table'? 'Not favored'?

The way people were surrounding Don, one could be forgiven in thinking Don was at the small tables by mistake. There were half a dozen reporters who wanted to talk to him, some who asked him about the seeming snub of not being able to sit next to his totally obvious girlfriend at the moment! Momoko at the crowning table.

On his part, Don managed to shrug it off and smile. Not everyone can fit at the big table, after all. But deep down he had the feeling he knew why he wasn't there.

Finally, after some time, he got some breathing room, and he managed to get up to walk around. Shell, what a night.

[itsananimalthing]

Riddick didn't have a seat at the big table, either. That didn't bother him any. He leaned back in his chair most of the night, looking-- he thought-- ridiculous in the period get-up (deep blue and purple, at least, so he looked suitable dark, even if it was way too fluffy in all the wrong places and moved all wrong), keeping reporters off him through sheer glare-power and by directing them over to somebody else when he got bored with that.

He was, however, at the same table as Don, which amused him a little. He could at least watch the talking turtle deal with reporters he was too nice to shoo off.

"Oughta give you some lessons, man," he commented dryly during a break in the interviews.

[purebred]

Sitting quietly at one of the small tables is a young woman with large brown eyes and an expression that seems to be permanently fixed into one of fear. She'd only just arrived when she was ushered off to this party, with hardly any time to adjust to her new human body, or even the newfound ability to communicate with humans, let alone process the moral and psychological ramifications of the world she'd just been dropped into. There wasn't the time to do any of that, instead she was now at this party, staring mournfully at the proceedings, barely able to keep herself from whimpering.

[battroll]

Bruce was used to watching for signs of distress, and used to protecting others. The girl shivering in the corner certainly seemed to fit the bill. Bruce gravitated towards her.

She was staring across the room, eyes large and dark and unhappy. Bruce wasn't the best at this situation, not the best at people, but he was here.

"Don't worry. I'm pretty sure that the worst that's going to happen to us tonight is the outfits." His voice is a little wry, but gentle, and he's smiling, just a little.

"I'm guessing you're new? I don't remember seeing you around. Of course, I guess that might not be saying too much."

[orestes]

The table is small and Enjolras can't help but watch his companions through their meal. The others don't catch his eye in the same way, and while he certainly wasn't about to turn into Courfeyrac or Grantaire, he can't help but notice her. She's pretty, small, timid, and seems uncomfortable for reasons beyond the odd way in which they'd insisted everyone dress, or the heavy wigs they were all made to wear. Something about her very movements seem odd, off, out of step with the tidiness of the evening. "Is the meal not to your liking, Mademoiselle?"

Re: SMALL TABLES

[acro_bat_ic]

Barbara had no idea what she was doing here. Seriously. This entire place was still something of a mystery to her. Considering she'd only been here a day? She hadn't expected herself to be ushered into a place like this. Or seated at a dinky little table.

What was even going on here?

Re: SMALL TABLES

[candy_grrl]

It's not that Gretel isn't used to wearing corsets or anything, but this was all too girly for her taste.

She eats without any mind for how indelicate it looks, drinks with the same amount of fervor.