gamemakers: (Default)
The Gamemakers ([personal profile] gamemakers) wrote in [community profile] thecapitol2013-06-16 11:41 pm

The Crowning of Albert Wesker

Who| Everyone in the Capitol.
What| The Crowning Ceremony
Where| The Victor's Complex
When| Day of the Crowning
Warnings/Notes| None yet.

The theme of the ceremony is clearly black and red. A crimson carpet stretches out across the room. The long table for feasting seems to be made of a single slab of dark obsidian, something that couldn't possibly be found in this size naturally. The chairs are wrought iron with red cushions, and embers burn under personal barbecues at each seat. Red wine, red juice, slabs of red meat to be cooked (or eaten raw) - the details are all perfected. Even some of the Avoxes have received black tattoos for the occasion, the number '11' permanently marking under their eyes like grotesque twin tears.

For a crowning, the ceremony is rather intimate. Only a handful of guests have been invited: the usual Capitol VIPs, the Mentors of each District, and a few of the stars of the last few Games. Karis Needleteeth, Aunamee, Dr. Alastor Grey, Alpha, Lindsey McDonald and Hyperion Crius each have a seat at the table. A few Peacekeepers sit off to the side, sipping wine. A few of the Mentors are conspicuously missing.

And Wesker's throne sits at the head of the table; it's made of the head of the dragon that destroyed so much of Disneyland and slaughtered so many Tributes. The head has been dried, the tongue replaced with a plush velvet seat and back the color of blood. The eyes have been replaced with glass that stares at each side of the room. The fangs, however, remain intact.

Downstairs, the rest of the Tributes and their Escorts and Stylists can partake in a more Disney-themed affair. Everything is still sleek, and tends to veer more towards Maleficent and Jafar then Cinderella and Ariel, but the punch bowl is Mickey Mouse-shaped. There's a dance floor, and a string quartet, and all sorts of lavish foods on tables with red cloth. It's a night for mingling, at least.

[OOC Note: Part one of this is going up tonight in the first two subthreads. Part two will be edited into the last two subthreads tomorrow evening; you'll see why. Go forth and mingle! Tributes from downstairs can go say hello to the Victor, although they won't get long before the Peacekeepers escort them back down.]
president_evil: (weskerSauve)

[personal profile] president_evil 2013-06-17 07:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Wesker smiled, teeth as white as those to either side of his shoulders. (And somehow, despite the pleasant lilt to his mouth, just as sharp.)

"I would be disappointed if you were," he replied, head tipping just so. "I would hate think you didn't believe me a man of my word."
shambler: (030)

[personal profile] shambler 2013-06-18 05:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Wesker looked like he belonged, like he'd been made to sit right there under some creepy dragon's decapitated head and own it like no one else could dream about matching. R would've been jealous if he could manage to squeeze it out of his corpse. The zombie hunched his shoulders against those fangs overhead, focusing on Wesker's face.

"Know...better," R said, his words rattling out. "What...will you do....now?"
president_evil: (weskerDesk)

[personal profile] president_evil 2013-06-19 11:48 am (UTC)(link)
"As I understand it, I'm to be a mentor now," he lifted his free hand, gesturing lightly to the stairs, to the tributes below. "Guiding the next from my district to victory."

The hand returned to the armrest, thumb nail picking idly at its fellows as he looked pointedly at R.

"Or, perhaps, even one who isn't."
shambler: (091)

[personal profile] shambler 2013-06-20 11:09 am (UTC)(link)
It took R a long moment of dumb, silent staring to figure out Wesker was (maybe) talking about him.

"Maybe we..." R had to pause again, frustrated, because he knew he was forgetting something. As usual. A conversation with Wesker, maybe. Did they promise anything? Shook hands on it? "Could work...to-gether?"

Somehow R had the feeling that wasn't what he wanted to ask. Not exactly. Some of it was the usual, thoughts and feelings coming and going and leaking out of his skull...but a lot of it was because, to be totally honest, Wesker was so much larger than life that R was plain flustered standing there trying to figure out if he could help.
president_evil: (weskerScreen)

[personal profile] president_evil 2013-06-20 11:31 am (UTC)(link)
When it came to things he wanted, Wesker could be endlessly patient. Could demonstrate a restraint most would have found surprising.

And R was something he wanted. He wanted the infected close at hand,... and not just because of the medical anomaly R represented. Thus far, R, despite his slow, groaning pace, had proven himself to be fitting company.

They had something in common, the two of them, despite the difference in their standings and Wesker could appreciate that.

"I would like to see you reach your potential, R," he said, eyes behind the glasses fixed on the zombie's face. Watching intently. "So I do hope you'll remember what we talked about."
shambler: (006)

[personal profile] shambler 2013-06-21 06:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Uh oh.

R was starting to think maybe Wesker was talking about a previous conversation here after all, the zombie giving him a blank look that (hopefully) hid his growing sense of panic here. Thank God he had a corpse's face, R frantically scratching at his brain folds and willing something to resurface so he could cut it out with the dumb staring and stuttering. When it did come back - something actually did, for a change - R wanted to kick himself because it was so big and glaring and obvious. Cures. The T-virus. Potential. How'd that fade out on him?

"Me...too," R tried to play it smooth as he swayed on his feet, wanting to sound cool and collected for Wesker. This was the big name Victor and T-virus survivor, after all. Really big man on campus. "Maybe....I could...with your...help?"
president_evil: (weskerHmm)

[personal profile] president_evil 2013-06-22 10:16 pm (UTC)(link)
He nodded, a smooth, elegant bobbing of his blond head, the pale lights shining off his dark glasses.

Approval.

An agreement.

"I'll be watching. Make me proud."

A warning.