thecapitol | The Victor is...

The Victor is...

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Karis has been, appropriately enough, styled in a black, long-sleeved dress that's been gathered at the waist. It's not quite as risque as some of the other styles, however. Whomever was in charge of her probably decided making a zombie look attractive wasn't quite a lost cause, but the less skin exposed, the better. As it is, despite application of makeup (which she objected to strenuously), there's still something horrendously off about her. She still has a nasty-looking grin. Tonight, she just looks pissed off. She has a glass of something alcoholic and she's swigging it down with reckless abandon and glaring at any of the Capitol socialites who get too close.

Fuck this, they told her she'd be fighting. Not on display in a dress.

Edited 2013-03-13 01:13 (UTC)

R was a shameless eavesdropper.

Being a zombie meant the whole privacy thing didn't exist: when he heard some of the other guests talking about another Dead here, R put his speed-shambling shoes on. He lurched about, pushing his way through the crowds, suddenly motivated to find another like him. It was probably too much to ask for M. And he crossed his fingers this wasn't a Boney - if he could cross his fingers in the first place - but the way those guests had whispered, it sounded like she(?) actually talked.

Where was she when he was alone and single back home?

...Wait, R was still alone and single. Admitting he to Julie that he ate Perry probably killed his chances at any future dates. Okay, so no dating for now. Just making friends. He could do that.

Eventually he thought he found the new zombie, zeroing in with that almost instinctive urge to make one Dead two. R waffled for a bit before he approached, suddenly shy. Dead Chick wore her clothes better than he did, was covered up enough that he couldn't see if she was dripping intestines or something (God, he hoped not). When she chugged at a drink, R caught a flash of pointy teeth that made him wince because that was almost Boney-levels of sharp there. Sucking it up, R tried to put a purposeful lurch to his shuffling and came up to her.

"Look...good," R grunted. "Pretty."

Edited 2013-03-13 18:01 (UTC)

Karis swung her head around in a sharp, jerky movement that probably broadcast her undead status to anyone with eyes. It wasn't smooth, it wasn't natural. It was actually a bit creepy. For a long moment she stared at R. Another deader? He looked like one, that was for sure, but he didn't move like a Forsaken - well, not most Forsaken. More like a ghoul or one of the shoddily animated corpses the Scourge liked to use as cannon-fodder. She clicked her teeth together before she replied, sizing him up.

"Thanks, I guess. You're a deader too, huh?"

He seemed a bit slow, but hey - another zombie was practically kin. United against the living and all that jazz. She took another swig and then set her glass down on a convenient table and jerked her thumb toward the rest of the party.

"Watcha think of all the breathers?"

If R wasn't already hopelessly in love with Julie, he would've crushed hard on this Dead girl.

He felt stupid when he realized he was gaping at her as words spilled out like she was alive. Her voice was gravelly, those teeth of hers flashing, and he actually felt both impressed and jealous she made talking look so easy. R hurriedly tried to string together a sentence, feeling self-conscious that he was still working on syllables here while she was talking up a storm. Oh man, oh man, why did he even come over here? Good thing he was dead: hard to blush when your blood was curdled into ooze. He couldn't stop ogling her amazing hand-eye coordination.

"Yeah," R said, trying to stall for time and words. "Uh...bad taste? Un...cool."

It was what he told Howard. Most of the, uh, "breathers" (that was a new one) struck him as pretty uncool, although R would say some of them could be decent when they weren't trying to shoot you in the head.

Karis watched him force the words out. She couldn't really get angry at him for it - it wasn't like he was a breather - and she'd known Forsaken and ghouls in her time who had trouble with the whole talking thing. It was just a part of the condition and it was a crap-shoot as to whether or not you got your full functions back. Well, most of them anyway. He looked slow, but that didn't mean he couldn't think. And if she knew anything it was that free undead stuck together or died getting stamped out by the living.

Admittedly, the staring was kind of unnerving. But the dead tended to stare - Karis ought to know, she did it to people she didn't like. Which was practically everyone, but who was counting? She sidled a step closer in a show of undead unity.

"Tell me about it. Although I bet they don't taste terrible, am I right?"

Yeah, that was a food pun. So sue her. She waited a beat and then added in a slightly sympathetic tone, "Got the short end of the speakin' stick, huh?"

R liked that she wasn't shying away from him. So maybe she wasn't swaying or lurching or staggering around like all the other zombies back at the airport, but if he looked past that, he felt...comfortable? A lot better than he had since he ended up here. As she took a step closer, R also leaned forward. His first out of town zombie. Did they do herding where she was from? R wanted to ask her all these questions: where was she from, what was her hive like, did she know how she died, how'd she learn to talk, and on and on and on. What her name was.

Bringing up food snapped him back to what really mattered.

"Hungry," R complained, happy to have something he could talk about. "Prob...ably..."

Wow, she'd been thinking the same thing he did, only she worded it way better than he ever could. R tried to crack an amused smile. Another zombie with a sense of humor besides M. Who knew?

R was starting to drift away again, his eyes sliding over Dead Girl's shoulder, when she brought up his speech impediment. His attention jerked back to her, startled. This time R really put everything he had into blushing. "I try. Can't...always. You?"

Edited 2013-03-13 18:44 (UTC)

Horrible, horrible, black humor. But humor, nonetheless. Karis wished she had pockets to put her hands into or something else to do with them besides let them dangle at her sides. She rattled the fingerbones on one hand together with a thoughtful look. Come to think of it, he probably wasn't from Azeroth, but he was still a deader, like her. That meant he understood, even if it was in an indirect fashion. Right? She rolled her shoulders in a shrug - wait, was he blushing? She couldn't be sure, considering she was colorblind, but it looked like it. Well, maybe a little.

Actually, she wasn't sure.

"I'm always hungry. But I don't think they'd let us eat. Well, maybe not 'til we're in the arena. And, well... I can talk just fine, but that's probably 'cause they brought me back pretty fast. Sorry, buddy."

Oh, hey.

"You have a name? I'm Karis Needleteeth."

The fact she had a last name bowled him over. That was a Living thing, the stuff all the Dead gasped for and couldn't remember and here she was, with her very own last name stuck on there like a badge, like a gold sticker, like a big arrow saying "I'm someone".

It did occur to R that she gave it to herself. Needleteeth was so weirdly specific that it couldn't be something she had when she was alive, could it?

He bit out his name, which was a lot less impressive but still his. "R".

For once he didn't drag it out, kept it nice and short. R started to flop up his hand to try to shake hers, remembered those rattling, exposed bones, and hoped Karis didn't stab him with them on accident. It wouldn't hurt - and he wouldn't be mad - but it'd be inconvenient and he was worried about what kind of impression that would make, trying to unskewer himself like he couldn't manage a simple handshake.

"...You're...Tribute?" R asked. That made him feel better, thinking there were people like him there.

Honestly, that's pretty much exactly what it was. An attempt to latch onto an identity and hold it. Something to say, "I'm me and no one else." Of course, Karis wasn't likely to share that with anyone. At least not yet. She reached out to take his hand and managed not stab him. She gave his hand a shake and then let it drop with a grin. She rolled his name over in her head for a moment - "R" - and then shrugged, "R, huh? Not bad. Mind if I call you Arty?"

She gave nicknames to everybody, practically. Whether they liked it or not. She tapped at her teeth with a finger and nodded, "Yeah, I'm a tribute. Here to kill or be killed for the sake of these people, blah, blah, blah. Doesn't sound too hard. All I gotta do is slaughter a buncha breathers, right?"

R was already trying to shake his head at "Arty", not wanting another nickname after Howard coming at him with "Rob": all he knew was neither of those were his. He tried to give Karis what he vaguely remembered as a power handshake, the kind businessmen and dads and jocks used to do way back when there were such things as CEOs and schools. He was frustrated when he gave her a limp-handed cold fish of a handshake instead. Wow. Even her bones could give a better job than him.

Probably should work on his handshakes for next time. R had no idea he'd be introducing himself so often. This hadn't happened very often back at the airport.

With the way Karis talked, R was starting to get the niggling feeling he might be the undead country bumpkin to her city slicker, with years of murder between them. The other Dead slung out her words so fast and so casually that he felt almost breathless trying to keep up.

"Eat only," R insisted, not liking where Karis was going with this. "Not..." He searched for what he meant. "Not fun."

She made it almost sound like it was supposed to be a fun hobby. Like ripping off a man's arm and chewing through it was something to root for. As starstruck as he was over Karis, this was the area they'd have to agree to disagree: eating was one thing. But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it at the same time. R didn't think she should, either. That wasn't living, he wanted to say, even though he knew full well that eating brains wasn't much better.

Edited 2013-03-13 23:13 (UTC)

Karis laughed at the empathetic shake of his head - well, as empathetic as he could really get, anyway. As much as she enjoyed tagging people with nicknames they hated, he was a fellow deader and the only one here. She raised a hand in a little, "Meh" gesture, "Fine, fine. Not Arty. R it is. Even if it is kinda short."

She was joking around with him. For the most part. Finding another deader (even a slow one) was a bit of a relief. Although they already had their first disagreement and wasn't that fun? When he spoke up on mayhem and murder not being fun she gave him an amused look, like he was saying something a bit quaint. After a moment, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a rather comradely fashion and gave his shoulder a pat, "Listen, R, I know it might not seem like that, but if you don't kill them, they're gonna kill you. Do you really think these breather scum actually like us? That they wanna be friends? Hell no! They wanna cut our heads off and burn us to ashes! They think we're monsters! Unholy blights!"

She pulled away and turned to tap him in the chest, "So kill them first. It's practically self-defense anyway. Besides, sometimes the way they scream is funny."

Edited 2013-03-13 23:18 (UTC)

R gave an uneasy grunt as Karis showed him her world-view like it was a shiny new toy she wanted to share with the rest of the class. It was angry, self-righteous. Reactive. Almost human, the "you kill me, I kill you first" thing like it was somehow personal. Like they were out to get her specifically.

Somehow this wasn't the turn he thought the conversation would take.

He didn't flinch as she slung a bony arm around his hunched shoulders as if they were long-dead pals, his head hanging low as he tried to process this. All R knew was he didn't like it. When the Living took pot shots at him, he knew it was because that was life, that was the world now, and he could live with that, up until one day they got lucky and re-killed him. He didn't try to pull away as Karis steered him away from the counter and then poked him in the chest with that sharp finger of hers.

"Have...some breath...er friends," R said stiffly, thinking of Julie. Howard, too, even if they just met. "Not...scum. We...eat. Not....make scream. It's wrong."

Could he suck any more at getting his point across? Because he'd heard every scream under the sun during hunts, but he wasn't trying to get it out of his meals either. Personally he hated hearing them screaming and crying in his face and the idea of Dead like Karis searching that out on purpose made him feel...weird. Like not cool. Maybe she's been a zombie too long? Most of them seem to give up, either stop moving or go the Boney-route, but her, she was different, taking it to a whole new level with her full sentences and gravelly voice.

To a certain degree, it was personal (not that she'd ever admit that). More than anything else, she resented the living. She hated them for having what she no longer had and wasn't going to get back. Framing it as a righteous act let her play the victim more often than not, even if she was the only one who believed it (and really, even she didn't believe that; she knew what she was). After all, if she had to be a zombie, why should everyone else get to go on with their lives?

R - R confused her. He didn't seem to have anywhere near the bitterness, anger, resentment she had. Nor did he seem to have the same attitude as most of the Forsaken she'd known. In fact, she kind of thought of it as amusing. After all, what kind of self-respecting deader was actually nice to the living? What was the point in that? They were going to hate the undead anyway (at least that was what she told herself). She grimaced at him and then shrugged her bony shoulders, "Not much use for 'em. You ever meet someone who'd wanna be friends with a zombie, anyway?"

Sure, she'd known one or two in her time. But they were the exceptions.

Somehow stuff like that hadn't crossed R's decayed mind...or maybe it had, he'd tossed it around, had it discarded when another day bled into the next like everything else turned to gray. He couldn't remember. Either way, R didn't feel that way now, today, and even if he'd driven Julie away, he knew it was his fault, not the Living's.

The zombie tried to draw himself up straight, even unhunch those shoulders, not wanting to offend Karis since they just met but also wanting to stand up for himself too, finding it's trickier than he expected.

"Yeah," R gasped out, trying to sound stronger, more challenging, and not confused that he can even speak. At least a human would be surprised (and downright impressed) he can talk: a dead girl like Karis, though, would have different expectations that he better back himself up. Being able to wave around four syllables around her face and too many pointed teeth wouldn't make much of a difference. R sucked in a breath, deciding he didn't need four syllables to make his point.

"Julie."

He said her name almost reverently. If there was a way to circle her name in gold, he'd do it, R's eyes focusing on Karis's face instead of past. For a moment he looked almost like the person he died as.

Julie. Huh.

That was interesting. The kid (Karis thought of everyone as a kid, even if she'd only been about nineteen when she kicked the bucket) had a metaphorical spine, even if he did have some woefully delusional ideas about how humans and zombies interacted. Back home, he would've been easy fodder for the Crusaders. Or anyone else who wanted to kill free undead. Here, though, he was the only person who might begin to understand anything about being undead.

She scratched at a piece of flaking skin on her neck with a look irritation.

"Julie. Sweet on her or something?"

Not that she could blame him for being interested in the living to a certain extent, but how the Hell did he expect any of them to even begin to return any kind of feelings?

R was waiting to see if she'd peel off a larger chunk of her neck, preparing to wince inside because he'd been thinking she looked pretty good for a corpse. Carving out chunks of her remaining skin seemed like it'd be a shame.

Karis had him pinned when she suddenly remarked on his feelings about certain Living girls. Was he supposed to be ashamed? Going against the status quo, bringing girls back with him? R froze up, meaning to give a big, bold "so what? And?" and letting the other zombie take that however she wanted. He was horrified when he gave a stuttering wheeze out of his lungs like Karis suddenly stabbed him in the chest, right through the ribs.

"Muh-maybe," R would've been blushing madly if he had the blood for it.

He could feel his face trying to go even stiffer than normal, all the muscles tightening up in all the wrong ways, and he suspected maybe he had some stage fright way back in the day, because it was acting up now when he was put on the spot. R was the first to look away, break contact, dropping his eyes away from Karis's weirdly glowing ones and looking at his feet. Didn't she ever daydream? ~~He couldn't be the only one still capable of crushes.~~

Edited 2013-03-14 18:30 (UTC)

Karis paused in her little picking motion, not quite tearing off a chunk. She left it as her thoughts drifted, half-listening to R's stuttered 'maybe'. Not to mention the way he looked away. She eyed him for a long moment and tried to decide how she really felt about that. She'd give a hand to get something like that back and she had to fight down a little spurt of jealousy.

Undead stick together. They had to. Her mouth twitched into a frown and then she got it under control again, jaw working back and forth. After one more long moment, she snorted and tossed her arm around him again with a sigh. Now she felt a little responsible for the kid.

"More power to you, I guess. But don't come crying to me if she cuts your head off, kiddo."

She paused and then elbowed him in the ribs, "Is she a looker, at least?"

(Was Karis seriously going to let it just...hang there?) Now it dangled off the back of her neck, jiggling when she moved and honestly, that was downright distracting. R did his best to ignore it. Make eye contact. Look people in the face when they're talking. Stop staring at their body-parts waiting for them to plop to the floor.

R thought he saw Karis frown but it was fast enough that he wasn't sure if he was seeing things. She was almost as animated as a "breather" - although he got the impression that if he wanted to keep things polite and those teeth where he could see them, he better keep that opinion to himself. R's mouth snapped shut once he realized he was gaping dumbly at her again.

"She...would-wouldn't," R moaned, trying not to think of that quietly hurt look the last time he saw Julie, the way she turned her back on him. He shot Karis a look as the elbow jabbed into his side, so pointy R wouldn't be surprised if she skewered an organ or two through his clothes. Instead of laughing or smiling or doing anything could-be-friends did, R hung his head. "She's...Julie. Per-fect."

Yeah, he was going to clam up at talking anymore about Julie. Karis, you had yourself a love-sick zombie on your claws. R tried to steer the conversation away from Julie by going for the next most awkward thing: Karis's love life. She was so with it, she had to have one, right?

"What...about you? Love?" R peered at his fellow Dead. He tried to imagine her pining after anyone or going on dates - married - but couldn't quite manage.

It's just a bit of skin. It'll be fine, really. Fortunately, she seemed oblivious to any staring on his part. Probably because he was always staring. She clicked her tongue - well, let the kid think whatever he wanted. Wasn't like it hurt her any. He'd learn or he wouldn't and if she had to haul his rotting ass out of the fire, then so be it. His question surprised her and it showed on her face - eyes widened, but no blushing. No blood pumping in her veins, after all.

"What, me? Pfft. No. It'd be a waste of time," she waved a hand dismissively. That hurt a little though, if only because she believed herself. Who'd be interested in a zombie? Especially her? If she were one hundred percent honest with herself, she was an absolutely terrible person. Even if they got past the whole "undead" thing, there was still her... glowing personality and murderous tendencies to work around.

"I haven't had a crush or anything since I was a breather... No point talking about it."

R's face twitched, like he wanted to raise an eyebrow at Karis but his muscles weren't up to the task. Really? She could actually remember her crushes when she was alive? Remember what it was like Before? And she was still that jaded?

Maybe he felt sorry for her. He wasn't sure yet. But being angry and bitter for eternity struck R as sucking pretty hard, compared to, say, simply existing day to day like the majority of zombies who didn't have half the self-awareness someone amazing like Karis did.

"Huh," R said, trying to think of a way not to murder one of his few long-term conversations with another Dead. He was too greedy for words to stop now. "So...Living not...your type. Hobbies?"

That was safe, right? They could talk hobbies. It was either that or talk shop about eating people.

Hey, if you asked Karis, being bitter and motivating yourself through hatred and anger was better than being a mindless shambler. Or mind-controlled. Mind-controlled sucked. Besides, part of the reason she was jaded was because she could remember.

"I wouldn't say they're not my type so much as they're not interested in a girl like me," Karis mused. Funny how that worked.

She gave him a curious look. He sure had a lot of questions. "Hobbies? Uh, I like to tinker. With machines. Give me the stuff and I can build you an engine. And fighting. I like fighting."

That was something she actually took a measure of joy from. Being able to put something together and use her hands and mind was fairly worthwhile. She rattled her finger-tips together thoughtfully and then carefully tried to steer R away from a bunch of Capitol fans who were apparently watching them like they were the worlds most interesting zoo exhibit.

Remind R to ask her about this whole new world of hers when they weren't surrounded by distractions, like, say, food everywhere. And strange new noises. An orchestra that even R was wincing at.

He thought about pursuing the idea of love with Karis, because really, it did sound to him like there was more there than she gave him, but maybe that was something for another time. If there was anything they both had plenty of, it was time. Too much time. Time bleeding out the ears. A corpse could die of boredom if they weren't careful, so yeah, he understood her need to keep busy.

At first R didn't notice he was being herded. When Karis nudged him, her arms around his shoulders, he went where he was being prodded automatically, his feet dragging next to hers. It felt almost like home to be wandering around with another Dead. He could almost believe that falling into that old routine would be easy.

The route took them to corner next to a pair of giant potted plants, their blooms sprinkled with fake dew to catch the light from overhead. R swung his head up to look at Karis.

"En..gine?" Engineer wasn't coming out, R pursing his blackened lips. "That's...cool. Really. How?"

R was totally impressed. She could actually get machines, too? Actually build new things? Suddenly his hobby of hoarding and listening to music didn't seem all that special.

Karis settled into their new corner, back against the wall. She didn't trust the room. At all. Besides, it wasn't paranoia if someone really was out to get you.

"Whatta you mean, how? You just kinda learn..."

Sorry, R. Her particular brand of zombieism didn't leave quite as much brain damage.

"Not...usual," R insisted. Maybe Karis had been so self-aware for so long that she forgot what it was like? R had no idea, dogging on stubbornly. "You're...special. Able to...learn. Special."

There, he said it, got the elephant in the room squared away. Someone had to say it.

Karis frowned and tugged at the lace on her dress. This line of quesitoning made her the teeniest bit uncomfortable. She shook her head, "I'm not that special. I'm just another deader, another Forsaken. There's tons of us back home. Sure, not all of us are that smart or... you know... put together, but we can all learn, kiddo."

The Victor is...

Re: SIDE LINES

Re: SIDE LINES

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snap i misread her hunger comment :( Sorry for the edits!

no worries!

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