The Crowning of Albert Wesker

[gamemakers]

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.]

Comments

[orestes]

It's only the surprise which stops Enjolras from shoving Jay back violent. He'd experienced too many people in too close of quarters recently, and to a private person such as himself, this was just another of many incredibly unwelcome invasions of his personal space. As it is, he tenses visibly, his breath speeds up and his brows furrow. While normally he'd be embarrassed by such overt signs of discomfort, he can't actually bring himself to care very much anymore. When Jay finally backs off, he suddenly feels hot all at once in a wave, as if the rage of the intrusion which had been bubbling beneath his skin were finally allowed to reach the surface.

Turning away from the man, he tugs at his jacket, attempting to shake off the feel of the other person climbing all over him. His expression has shifted from one of discomfort to one of annoyance and there's a fierce look to his grey-hazel eyes that's just shy of disquieting in and of itself. "In the future, Monsieur, I would appreciate if you are not so familiar with me. And, as a point of fact, this is a celebration of all of our deaths. If it isn't a preemptive wake, it's at the very least, a disrespectful memorial."

[amourtician]

"I wasn't touching you, dearest," Jay says, pointedly. He's unsurprised, but slightly put out that Enjolras reacted so badly. Usually people aren't so skittish. "Unless those earrings are, in fact, magically growing out of your ears. I'm sure the Capitol could do that, their medicine seems ridiculously advanced."

He steps back a little.

"I think the Capitol's ideas of respect are very different to Paris's, darling. They must be a very different culture and it's really not nice to criticise other people's cultural mores."

He doesn't add that he doesn't care about being nice, at least in this instance. Not in public.

[orestes]

"Nor is it polite to impose yourself on them." The rebuttal is smooth, though he does look visibly less tense now that he sin't so crowded. He huffs slightly, tugging down the hem of his jacket as if to straighten everything out and eliminate Jay's presence. "Furthermore, the natives of the Capitol have been far more polite thus far."

[amourtician]

Jay snorts, rather less delicately than he meant to.

"I'm not imposing myself on you, darling. I was merely curious about your, ahhhh, outfit. I wanted to see what the earrings were made out of! I'd be imposing myself on you if I tailed you around the party asking inane questions."

He pouts, loath to admit that he might have been a touch rude. The drink's really gone to his head.

"Polite ..." he says, carefully. "Ah. Yes. They've got manners, that's for certain. Nothing like a touch of class and a fish fork to go with the fights to the death. Really gives the whole enterprise a touch of class."

He pours as much bitterness and sarcasm as he dares into those words -- it really isn't a lot, however, not enough to hurt his chances of claiming he was entirely sincere. He hopes Enjolras will catch the tonal shift, but it's a faint hope. Not for the first time, he wishes he could simply beam messages into people's minds, bypassing words and thus the ever-present ears of the Capitol. And he thought Wurmwald had a problem with an invasive government!

[orestes]

For better or worse, Enjolras is too lost in his own head and too distracted by the invasion of his personal space to notice the more subtle nuances of Jay's reply. To him, it reads as yet another Tribute oddly accepting of their fate. Venus, he thought was an oddity. More and more, it seemed, her opinions were becoming more common.

"There has always been a distinct difference between genuine virtuousness and those who would choose to emulate it. Amour-propre is, as they say, a powerful motivator."

[amourtician]

"Er, what?" Jay says, not sober enough to worry about sounding uneducated. "I'm sorry, darling, you lapsed into hoarse gibberish for a second, there."

He's ruder than he otherwise might've been, upset that Enjolras didn't pick up on his sarcasm. So much for trying to reach out to other Tributes. Maybe he should've chosen someone a bit more on the ball, he thinks.

[orestes]

"It's French." The slight against his native tongue isn't met without some hostility. To be honest, he's in a bad enough mood to let something as petty as that get to him. It's more a matter of looking for any target for his frustrations than truly being upset by the comment alone. "An expression meaning self-worth derived from societal esteem."

[amourtician]

"Oh," Jay says. "Well. I suppose. Fear of shame is a powerful motivator. Ah. For some."

He gives Enjolras a meaningful look, even though the implied insult doesn't really make much sense. He's very sour about the missed communication.

[orestes]

Enjolras is too lost in his own head to catch the intended insult, really. He's been participating in conversations he cares nothing for since he was small, one more isn't going to kill him and, actually, the lack of investment is almost nice as a change. Not as nice as he might find a conversation with Cindy, or Valeria, perhaps, but easy enough, the lack of regard for French aside. "For most. We are social creatures and though some of us might argue otherwise, we certainly all care for how we are perceived at one time or another."

[amourtician]

"Mmmmm," Jay says, intelligently. "And of course, it's an easy thing to manipulate. One's appearance. The Capitol understands that very well."

Since Enjolras isn't perceptive enough to forge a covert alliance with, Jay decides the conversation is rather done. He's not happy about it, but he's loath to try a more direct approach.

He gives Enjolras a strained smile.

"I'm going to go get something else to drink," he says. "Do try and enjoy the rest of the party, darling. You really look like you could use the opportunity to relax."

He walks off, hoping that the last barb was actually a barb and not a pathetic attempt at such.