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

[xanthous]

This...This isn't something he really knows how to handle. A million thoughts run through his mind - why would the Initiate do this? He can't dance - he's never been asked to dance before. Is there a reason he's being asked to dance? Some sort of ulterior motive?

With his digestive system twisting itself into a million and two knots, the Psiioniic nods, slowly. "I'm going to warn you that I'm not very good. But...I'll try."

[carnagecarnival]

"DOUBT AT HE COULD HURT ME IF HE TRIED," He says. The Helmsman's fear is so, so obvious, and for once he's imagining turning it off. He wasn't sure that was possible. "Worst a motherfucker could up and do is step on walknubs."

He lets his hand fall onto the Helmsman's back. He can feel the bones of his spine through the fabric, the warmth of his skin and blood. He gives the Helmsman's hand a small squeeze and begins to guide him.

"BROTHER ONLY NEEDS AT TO STEP LIKE SO. And he ain't about to motherfucking cull for mis-step. JUST A DANCE," He assures. Even if it's really not.

[xanthous]

"I don't know, I'm pretty pointy. I could jab you with my arm benderth." It's a weak joke, but it's just a small way of telling him that he's okay. That he can handle this, whether this is just the dance or something...more.

He squeezes back, following the Initiate's lead. He stares down at their feet, because it's easier to look there than at the Initiate. "Ith thith really all danthing ith?"

[carnagecarnival]

"Messiahs up and forbid should that get about occurrence. HOW WOULD HE EVER GET ON AT TO SURVIVING," he jokes in return. It could be to reassure the Helmsman, or maybe his own self. He isn't sure.

"It can be. DIFFERENT VARIATION WHAT TO TAKE. Different movements in time. DANCE CAN BE OF THE QUICK MOVEMENT, WHOLE IN BODY AND SOUL AS OF A BLOOD DANCE. Or can be of mere sway and close. SO LONG AT IT WORKS WICKED RHYTHM. Can even give for change at within, while not truly changing dance," he muses. He steps back, still holding the Helmsman's hand, but lifting it high. "COULD SPIN. Or get at return. FAIR FUCKING TRUTH HELSMAN, SHIT NEVER GOT AT TO MATTERING TO A MOTHERFUCKER MUCH." Except maybe now, with Helmsman at his grasp.

[xanthous]

"I don't know, I'm thure the thcarth could therve ath a reminder." His grin is lopsided and easy, awkwardly shifting on his feet. He still feels like he's doing it wrong, that he's just going to embarrass himself horribly.

But...maybe that's not so bad. "I don't think I'm ready for thpinning." He'd probably fall over or something equally awful. "I can try to keep thith rhythm for now." Too much more and he feels like he'll get overloaded. It had happened a few times on the ship - too much information to process at once, and it left him feeling strung out and awful, and he feels like it's about to happen right now.

[carnagecarnival]

He barks a laugh. "Helmsman, I have got scars on top of motherfucking scars. I DON'T GOT REMEMBRANCE ENOUGH FOR HALF. Less than half have pleaded importance enough for recollection. YOU'D HAVE TO DO AT SOMETHING REAL GODDAMNED IMPRESSIVE."

He lowers the Helmsman's arm back down, and adjusts his own hands, to hover carefully by the Helmsman's waist, glancing back every few seconds to watch for reaction.

"This may be easier," he says, ears feeling cool. "SIMPLE SWAY." The Helmsman isn't the only one at threat of embarrassing himself. He debates with himself for a long moment, fighting with the want to ignore everything Signless is and says, and hating to call the Helmsman exactly that. Finally he says, without meeting the other troll's eyes, "Heard word of he. A TITLE. You were called the Psiioniic?"

[xanthous]

"Thcarring you with my elbow wouldn't be imprethive enough to remember? I'm shocked." His laugh isn't nearly as loud as the Initiate's, and he seems surprised by it.

His cheeks are burning, and he looks down to try to beat the blush away before he looks back up. There are a lot of things he can't believe about this - that the Initiate hasn't threatened him, how okay he is with all of this, how it feels so oddly familiar.

When he hears his title - his old title - he hesitates for a just a moment, before answering in hesitant Alternian. "I wath called that. Before. A long, long time ago."

[carnagecarnival]

The Helmsman laugh is amusing as it is lifting. He mocks thinking hard on answer as they sway. "MMM, SUPPOSE HE COULD SPARE A LITTLE REMEMBRANCE," He teases. "Just a little."

When he doesn't protest, the Initiate very carefully lets his hands fall on the Helmsman's hips. He'd already appeared so small and skinny, apparently the clothing hid it better than the Initiate had thought.

"DOES HE WANT TO BE CALLED SUCH?" He asks. "Long ain't got the same motherfucking meaning at to a motherfucker such as I. LONG BEFORE IS WHERE AT HE'S FROM." And no small part of him thinks, how long could it possibly have been?

[xanthous]

"I thuppothe a little ith better than none at all." His lips twitch upwards just a hair, and he makes a soft noise of surprise when the Initiate places his hands on his hips.

He's pretty sure that his hands could wrap around his entire waste, and for a moment he's ashamed of himself, of how small he's gotten.

"I...If that ith what you'd prefer to call me." Look down, look away, don't let him see how you feel. "I can't thay either titleth are...all that welcome. I haven't been called the Pthiioniic by anyone but the Thufferer for...a thouthand thweepth."

[carnagecarnival]

He frowns and growls, just short of saying that he didn't ask that. Then he stops. And stares at the Helmsman, whether he's looking back or not.

"A thousand sweeps. THAT AIN'T POSSIBLE. Ain't a yellowblood ever born what could live so long." Right? "AND THE FUCK IS THE SUFFERER?"

[xanthous]

He can't look up. He can't face him anymore, and he feels more ashamed now than ever.

"It'th not thuppothed to be pothible. It...It wath becauthe, becauthe the Empreth could...give me a lifethpan that matched herth, tho I could therve her forever."

[carnagecarnival]

The Empress. There are so many things he want to do in this moment. It's good thing he's frozen still.

"There are hundreds of yellowbloods. A THOUSAND UPON MOTHERFUCKING THOUSAND OF PSIONIC LOWBLOODS AT DISPOSAL! Like so many motherfucking insects, wipe out hundreds and ain't not one what notices! WHY YOU?" The anger seeps heavy into his voice, even if it's not at all directed at the Helmsman, he can't keep it back, he's never learned how.

[xanthous]

Terrified. He's terrified. The Initiate's anger is terrifying, even if he's not sure it's all directed at him. It feels like it is, and it keeps him locked in place, even though he does flinch.

"If...you talked to the Thufferer, you thould know. He would have been more than happy to tell you." That's the easiest thing to say, and he's pretty sure it's true. The Sufferer could never keep his mouth shut.

[carnagecarnival]

"Who is the Sufferer?" he growls between his teeth. "DID HE SELL YOU TO HER?!" He'll tear him apart. Fuck the no cull rule. He'll motherfucking grind his bones to dust.

[xanthous]

"He-" He still can't move, staring up at the Initiate wide-eyed and even more scared for his life. "He...It'th what the, the Thignleth wath called after he wath eckthecuted."

[carnagecarnival]

And like a motherfucking miracle, he finds something more consuming than his own anger. Utter shock.

He stares right back, doing nothing but breathe. He searches and flounders.

It's a long moment before he finds words to speak. "He was executed?"

Of course he would be. It was only a matter of time. Spreading his heretical ideals in public markets. Blood brighter than near fucking anything. He was a motherfucking siren call. It'd been a matter of time.

And the Psiioniic had been with him. They executed the Signless and rounded the Psiioniic up at once. He'd told him. He'd motherfucking said that his rabble would bring others down with him. He still ought to kill the Signless. But then, he was already set to die.

"I'LL LET YOU OUT," he says. "I'll let a motherfucker free. GRAND HIGHBLOOD IS TO WORK WITH HER CONDESCENSION. I'll find a battery what to take his place."

[xanthous]

He's trapped.

The Initiate is still holding onto his hips and he can't pull away. He's too scared to pull anyways. He feels like he made a mistake, and he knows, he knows that he should have kept quiet. He shouldn't have spoken of the Sufferer and what things were like beforel

"You can't." His voice is soft, weak. "You were there. You were behind hith eckthecution and you watched it happen. Do you really think you can change what happenth?"

[carnagecarnival]

He was behind it... Him? What changed? He'd let the mutant go free for so long, why then, when the Helmsman was there with him? He doesn't know. He wonders what it was like, to watch the Signless die, to see that bright red flow free, to have it proven, every word the Signless ever believed, all wrong. To see the Helmsman in chains.

"WHY NOT?" he snaps. "What can't a Highblood motherfucking do? I CAN PULL A BROTHER FROM THE WIRES IF I NEED. He'll show an empress something better. AIN'T A SINGLE TROLL ELSE WHAT WOULD STOP HIM! Ain't a motherfucker what could."

He stares at the Helmsman, seeing exactly that in his minds eye. He lets go of the his hips, taking a step back. "WHY THEN? You have no motherfucking reason to speak to he. AIN'T A GODDAMN ONE A MOTHERFUCKER CAN SCRY. You do. YOU MOTHERFUCKING LET HIM NEAR. Why?"