thecapitol | The Crowning Of Tom Cassidy

The Crowning Of Tom Cassidy

Who| Everyone who's anyone. (Tributes, Staff, Capitolites, and anyone else in Capitol.)
What| The Crowning of Black Tom Cassidy.
Where| The New Cassidy Keep of the Capitol!
When| From noon to the late evening, Friday.
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| Blatent irish stereotyping. Remember to put any relevant warnings in headers!

The dress code for this crowning is certainly a strange one. Greenery, burlap sacks, and "Irish" themed outfits which many a confused Capitolites has take as to simply be the color green. Among them can be found the sorts of ridiculous bright costumes as could be found in a 1970's comic book-- not that the 1970's are even a real time period. Spandex, V-necks, and popped collars are going to be a common sight tonight.

Guests are brought out to the stunning blue-green bay. There's a new feature there, a great big replica of Cassidy Keep. And it's been built upon a rock. How it stays up is a mystery, but it's no doubt a stunning site as guests are brought in on boats to a grand staircase that leads to even bigger doors.

Guests enter into a beautiful castle and garden both. Trees grow through the stones, vines climb over the stair railings, flowers bloom on the walls, and in some place the castle gives way purely to nature with small ponds set in. Like an internal rainforest (though the temperature is comfortable and cool) there's greenery everywhere soaking up the light that shines through the high windows. Statues stand tall of Black Tom Cassidy, Molotov Cocktease, and Arya Stark, sometimes all of them together. Then are more of an imposing man named Unstoppable Thuggernaut, a young girl named Theresa, the same girl older with the plaque deeming her to be "Siren", and statues of the the three of them together, both as a family and posing to fight. And of course, one can't forget that grand paintings of infamous arena scenes featuring Black Tom. Paths are set around to help guide guests, the main path leading into the biggest room of the keep.

Sponsored by Below Timberline, a temporary dining area has been set up within the castle-- high above the ground! All along the treetops that shoot up to the ceiling are the vine and wood woven nests for guests to be seated in. Waiters, waitresses, and Avoxes make their way along thick branches and rope bridges. But despite appearances, there's no chance of falling! Forcefields have been put up around the whole area to prevent such a tragedy from occurring to guests, waiters, and waitresses.

There are Avox operated lifts to help guests up to the tree tops, and though this might be an eyesore for some, they've all been dressed pleasant green, some with little hats. All the better to match the theme and blend into it!

That's not all that's gained the Irish theme. The menu consists all of foods that would be found in this mysterious off-world residence. Corned beef and cabbage, Irish stew, colcannon, black pudding, crubeens, shepherd's pie, champ, boxty, shelfish, Blaa, Goody, and Barmbrack despite it being out of season. There is even a cereal dish of what may very well be Lucky Charms. Drinks include "Irish" Whiskey, ales, porter, coffee and cream, and cider both alcoholic and not (for the kids). There is significantly more whiskey with Tom's face upon it than not and much of the drinks are served in large mug glasses.

Down below the dining area are two clear spaces for dancing, one for the professionals giving performance, and one for those seeking to try on their own. The show isn't just an entertaining watch, it's dancers bring more to the music as well, tapping out a beat. Mixed in to shake up the river dancing, Irish-styled folk songs play, generally regaling tales of Black Tom Cassidy and his exploits, but occasionally playing a song or two about other Tributes.

In between floors is a stand where cotton candy makers craft giant colorful flowers. On the far end of the room, set up high, sits Tom's throne. Torches crown the top of the wooden throne, vines woven over the arm rests, a strange metal meant to visually mirror that of vibranium, shines in elegant swirling detail over and around the whole chair. A soft black material is stretched over the back and seat of the throne, marked in red on the back with Tom's symbol. Tom's crown features flowers and shining rubies set in the wood.

Set up in another room is a shillelagh game of shooting water out of the staff at the targets and winning a prize. Prizes include real "authentic" Shillelaghs, and ones that light up and show fire at the end thanks to an internal projection mechanism. And it's perfectly harmless!

Another room winds and twists through a dark torch lit tunnel in a guided tour through a replica portion of Cassidy keep that's been filled with amazing info about Panem's new Victor! Pictures of his life, his youth, his loves, and his adventures. There are replica vibranium pieces, models featuring Tom's many outfits, a pretend prison for guests to have their picture taken inside of, and on-wall descriptions of his villainous escapades. Both those and the tour guide tend to loop back to how he's found redemption here in Panem, now a model citizen.

A third room has been cleared for allowing a giant game of cops and robbers, which Tom has exemplified in present and past respectively. Those brought in to play are dressed in villain's outfits for the "robbers" and all Peacekeeper white for the "cops".

One door leads out to a bridge, connecting the island to the chasm edge across from it. There's a section of rolling hills there where guests are encouraged to seek out four leaf clovers and have them exchanged for engraved gold and bronze rings, flower bouquets, a free meal courtesy of Below Timberline, or even Limited Edition Black Tom Cassidy memorabilia. The white bridge across is lit underneath like that of the ha'penny bridge in the exotic offworld Ireland, but unlike ha'penny, the bridge's lights form beautiful moving pictures of various arena scenes, particularly the finale.

Saddened these scenes are out of sight? Fear not! The wide bridge has a second function: bungee jumping! Overseen by an attendant, with the proper equipment fitting, you too can take a dive into a chasm. Like Black Tom did, only on purpose and absolutely injury-free! The bungee is perfectly secure and safe with more attendants waiting below to pick up those... at the end of their rope. Boats waiting along the far edges pick up the guests again to bring them back around to the Cassidy Keep party. And what a party it is.

But it's not all fun and games at this crowning. Come evening, the dance floor is cleared and a stage and podium are swiftly set up. All the guests are sat. Tributes are sat up front, Capitolites and other guests in the back. Peacekeepers line in rows on the back and sides of the stage. Those still on duty situate between the Tributes and guests. Dead-center, with the rows of Tributes on either side, are two Peacekeepers that some might recognize as being one of the more heavily afflicted Peacekeepers on the day of the Medieval Games-watching Party. Though the offworld "sickness" vanished shortly after the first arrest was made, these two still don't look so hot, one nursing what might be a headache, and the other just plain looking ill.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Firo exhales sharply as Roland continues to move. Of course things are never easy, but at least that makes it interesting. All the same, he's fighting off the nagging worry of embarrassing his people. Again.

If he's going to make this work, it seems he has to grab for the wrist now, so that's what he does. He tries to clamp down with his free hand and anchor his elbow to his side to control the movement. If that even comes close to working, he'll jerk his weight upward as well to try to make an opening. His only hope is that something works.

Roland's got one less hand to brace himself with now and doesn't fight it, leaning in any direction Firo should choose to lead him through those bent back fingers. That one less hand, though, also means Roland is less able to brace against the floor, only has his feet to do it with since his one free arm is bent around Firo's neck to try and keep him in place. So the movement dislodges Roland from Firo a little, has Roland at least beginning to roll off Firo and moving one leg backward to keep him from completely flipping over.

Firo feels a little thrill of hope--did he get it? He doesn't want to get too excited just yet--and it's not like he's out of the woods--but a small grin appears on his face. He likes picking up new things and seeing how they pan out.

And he's hoping that this is maybe an opening. Feeling Roland move with him, he pushes the lock up and to the side as he jerks in the same direction, trying again to roll Roland off of him.

It's rougher than he should be in a friendly sparring match, probably, but his Family tended to go pretty close to all out with these. That and, as silly as he knows it probably is, he finds himself getting cagey when close to pinned, real fight or no.

Now there are things Roland could have done to avoid this, but now that he is here there isn't much to stop it. So despite the fact that he could resist that lock a little more - might not try with a real enemy, takes the threat of broken fingers as seriously as any other gunslinger would, but here with Firo he could risk it - Roland chooses not to. Firo's got the lock right and Roland saw him realize it, saw that little grin and looks a little more satisfied on seeing it, and does not plan to get in the way of Firo's discover as to how it ought to be used.

So he rolls with the lock, moves himself in the only direction that's available to take a little pressure off his fingers. Which happens to do that last little bit to flip Roland right over onto his back. Once he sees how Firo's going to try and pin him, whether Firo's going to let go of that lock or not, Roland will decide how much chance he's got at getting up again. For now, he doesn't fight this part of things, either.

He moves eagerly to maintain his grip and tries to get on top of Roland to keep him down. What to do with the lock isn't the kind of thing he thinks over so much as feels out. To push Roland's hand down to the floor would jeopardize the pressure that the lock requires, he believes, so keeping Roland's arm up seems the better course. But then does he stay here and try to count to ten, or does he try to pull the guy up on his feet so that they can end in a more respectful position?

He hesitates, staring at Roland. Maybe he's not a Martillo, but there are some things about him--especially now, when they're wrestling like Firo would with Yaguruma--that remind Firo of his bosses, and that affords a certain level of respect, even if it risks allowing the tide of the match to turn.

Roland does wonder at the source of that hesitation, but only faintly. Hesitation is always something to be taken advantage of, even when the fight is only training. Or maybe especially then. Roland tries to use that hesitation to get some space between their bodies, space he would maybe be able to use to stand or even try and reverse their positions again. He bends his legs, trying to draw them up and twist his body in hopes that that'll get Firo's hips - and thus the whole lower half of Firo's body - a little further from his. At the same time the arm he'd had around Firo's neck draws in too, tries to drive his elbow against Firo's side with it. That, too, he's hoping to be able to work between their bodies, maybe pry himself out a little space.

That's answer enough, and Firo realizes too late that he's probably made an error. The shifting of Roland's legs forces him back, and at first he pulls the lock back with him, still trying to maintain it.

It occurs to him that it might be in vain, though; as much as he wants to prove that he can learn things, he's not going to win many points by letting himself get locked into one strategy. So he lets go completely and tries to scramble back, aiming to land and get to his feet.

Oh no he doesn't. At least, not if Roland can help it. Roland rolls after him, rolling up to his knees and reaching one hand out toward Firo's closest arm, wanting to get a grip there and slide it far enough up toward Firo's shoulder that he'll be able to shove that shoulder around, use the grip he's also hoping to get on Firo's other side - shoulder, arm, back, anything - to help him get Firo's back toward him, the ultimate goal here being to try and pin him a different way this time, face down. Of course, that lock Firo had Roland's fingers in did what it did, and any possible grip Roland might get may not be quite as tight as it maybe ought to be.

(ooc: since I don't remember if we specified which of Roland's hands Firo had, if you do end up having Firo take advantage of a weak grip it can be in either of Roland's hands, wherever you need it to be.)

Firo lets out a squeak of surprise when his shoulder is grabbed and he can feel himself spun around--foiled! He can't pull away to avoid the second grip, but he wonders if that hand isn't grasping as strongly--at least, that's the side he's going to test.

It's best to be bold at this point, he thinks, considering how close to being pinned he is. So he throws his whole weight at Roland's second hand, aiming to break out and keep on moving.

[ooc: Thanks! I was thinking the second hand Roland's grabbing him with, does that work?]

(ooc: yeah that works for me)

It works. Roland grunts, more with irritation at his own disobedient bodyparts than with any true annoyance, and in an instant gives up on any kind of considered tactics. Instead he gets a foot under him and launches himself toward Firo, trying to drive a shoulder into him and knock him back. If Firo didn't want a wrestling match he might have to do something about it now, because Roland grasps at whatever parts of Firo's shirt his hands may land on and tries to make this little tussle into exactly that.

[ooc: Thanks!]

Firo isn't expecting the change in tactic, especially something so head on. He can't avoid the shoulder or the grip, though he tries to move back with the force. When his shirt is grabbed, he tries to come up with a knee towards Roland's center.

Despite previously failed efforts to make conversation, Firo pipes up again, "You just don't quit, do you?" But he laughs as he says it, hardly as annoyed as the words would suggest. It's a good thing, in his book. Having someone who'll keep you on your toes while sparring could save your life when you went out to a real fight.

As before Roland grunts in reply. He lets go of Firo's shirt and uses both hands to try and grab for Firo's knee, not caring if it hits him but wanting to keep it after, use it to pull Firo - hopefully, pull him far enough and hard enough that he lands on his back. "Neither do you," he says then, actually replying but not looking up to Firo's face to say it. He's not going to be distracted that easily.

His knee is grabbed before he can get away. "Would you let me?" Not that he'd want to, of course; he just can't resist teasing a bit.

Firo tries to respond with a straight punch to Roland's face, but then there's the pulling. As he's falling backwards, he turns his attempt at a punch into a swipe at Roland's arm. If he can reach one of them, he aims to rake down it as he falls--his hope is either that he'll cause a friction burn or that he can grab onto Roland's wrist to bring him down too.

Roland grunts, grips the wrist of the hand that's holding his, trying to get a good grip on Firo's other wrist now and wanting to roll, because if he can get a good enough grip on the boy and a good enough roll, he might well end up on top. As he's falling he grins, and his voice is honestly amused. "Might," he answers after, one way or another, he's landed. "Try it and see."

Smiling? No matter how this thing turns out, Firo's going to count this as a victory.

He laughs even as Roland starts rolling and Firo finds himself going with him. "Sounds like the answer of a guy who'd just use it as an excuse to smash my face into the pavement."

He tries to countergrab with his imprisoned wrist, rotating it as much as he can. At the same time, he shoots his shun upward at anything he might be able to hit. "I didn't expect you to actually laugh at that." So it wasn't quite a 'laugh,' but Firo figures it's close enough when it's coming from Roland. "Not that I don't think you've got a sense a' humor or anything, but..."

"I don't," Roland says, and now that his attention's been drawn to it the good humor's faded somewhat. This does not happen consciously, but it still happens. "So I've been told."

Roland does not know to tell Firo it's because his blood is up, though not in the pure, terrible state which falls over him in battle. What's it is is the simple joy of tussling with a friend and no danger in it for either of them, a feeling which he could tell Firo, if it occurred to him, that he has not had opportunity to feel in a very long time. Roland, though, was when he'd done it only aware that he was smiling, and was not concerned at all about why.

Neither is he concerned with just why his response to having his legs kicked is to kick back, a move which will have no strategic value for him and probably no effect save maybe making Firo yelp. He does think about what to do with his hand, though, sliding his hand from that wrist Firo just rotated down toward Firo's hand. The movement of Roland's hand is slow, maybe slow enough that Firo will have a chance to recognize the grip intended to precede another finger lock. Maybe even time to get out of it before it starts. Firo knows how to do one now, but might not yet know how to avoid having it done. Maybe he'll learn.

With the disappearance of the amusement, Firo has the feeling he's done something wrong; his own cheer diminishes somewhat. "Really? Can't blame 'em, considerin' how sometimes your face looks like it's stuck like that." Wait, probably not helping. He offers, "You smile more than my friend Keith."

The kick does get a little growl of surprise and dismay from Firo. Was that because Roland's mad now? Either way, he's miffed. "Hey!"

And it looks like it'll only get worse. Firo tries to jerk his hand away as he realizes what's happening, but of course that will hardly help. He has to shove his whole body at Roland to get the proper angle for it, but he then tries to jerk his other elbow up near Roland's face.

He expects it to be blocked, which is why he goes for something that normally has no place in a friendly match. Surprise rather than pain is his main goal.

And since blocking is the obvious route, Roland doesn't. He only turns his head so it doesn't hit his eyes, because - well, he's looked in a mirror lately. Even if Roland were one to preen over his own look, it isn't as if one bruise is going to make much difference against what already makes up the old and creased up landscapes of his face.

This keeps his other hand very nicely free, although he does not use that free hand to complete the grip for the finger lock. What he does with it is press his forearm across Firo's chest, high up near his neck, and lean his weight on it. His weight may not amount to too much, not compared to some, but it's six plus feet of not too much with a tough covering of muscle, and maybe that'll amount to something.

Right after that he follows up on that kick with another to more or less the same spot, and the good humor - which, though dimmed, hasn't really left - sends the corner of Roland's mouth twitching, and the skin at the corners of his eyes to crinkling a little. Now that Roland knows it annoys Firo, well... That makes it a valid strategy, doesn't it?

There aren't too many people Firo knows who would decide to take the hit for the sake of strategy. He blinks just with the surprise of that.

Noodley as the man above him is, Firo's quite a few inches from even being close to six feet. That weight certainly amounts to something as far as he can tell--especially with the target Roland's chosen. He huffs, trying in vain to hold onto the air he can, and tries to dig the fingers of his free hand into Roland's funny bone.

It's when he's pouting at the other kick--seriously, is he being mocked or punished?--that it hits him. "You do have a sense of humor. You're just an ass about it."

Now, for all Roland's determination to not get distracted in talk, that bit of talk actually does it. He leans up, and with the movement his weight is no longer distributed evenly across Firo's chest. He's pressing harder with his elbow, more lightly with his hand. For the moment, though, he is paying no attention to this. For the moment he's blinking at Firo instead, mouth open as if he's on the edge of debating the matter but can't think of any solid evidence with which to do it. Firo can do what he likes to Roland's funnybone, it will get no more than a grunt and a twitch. This particular matter is much more important.

That look eases some of Firo's offended pride, and he grins. "You got somethin' to say about it?" He's actually eager to hear what that could be, given how closed-mouthed Roland is.

He can feel the weight shift, so it seems like it's time for his strategy to shift as well. He puts all of his own weight into rolling himself over, shoving the shoulder that Roland's hand is pinning up at the man with all he can muster.

Roland is pushed over and flops, rather surprised, onto his back. That surprise isn't enough to stop him moving defensively, though, and depending on how Firo tries to pin him Roland might try something to keep his arms free. Something like clasping his hands together in front of Firo's elbow, pulling to try and pull Firo's arm closer to him and therefore unbalance him a little. He grunts as he does it, and his tone a second later's a little rueful, acknowledging that Firo's gotten one over on him. "That was well done. Truly sounded as if you believed it. That'll teach me to let myself be distracted, won't it?"

He tries to pin right below Roland's shoulders now, leaning as much as he can of his weight at the man's upper arm. It shouldn't be enough to prevent Roland's move, though.

Now Firo's distracted, blinking in surprise. "What're you talkin' about? I do believe it!" His hold falters as Roland tugs on his arm, and he nearly pitches forward. "Well, I mean, I was mostly jokin', but it wasn't a distraction."

As if Firo could be that devious.

Roland grunts, slides the grip of his hands around so one's right above Firo's elbow, and one's high up on his forearm. One of his feet seeks Firo's, in hopes of locking around it and giving himself a little more leverage for future attempts to flip himself back over. "Anything's a distraction in a bout like this. Especially jokes. If you can learn to use that on purpose, could do you a lot of good."

Firo kicks back at that wandering foot, trying to jerk it off. There's not too much he can do about the arms without releasing his hold, so he tries to flatten his weight on Roland's chest as he uses his free arm to try to pry off Roland's fingers.

"If that's the case..." He tries and fails to hide a mischievous grin. "Have you ever cracked a joke on purpose in a fight?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

He's such a good teacher :<

he really does enjoy it when he likes the student

:D

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject