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]

The mention of Javert's name made him tense. It was impossible for Enjolras to push the image of Javert's half-dead corpse from his mind. The inhuman sounds he'd made, the slow, shuffling movements which to this day terrified him when he thought he saw something similar in the periphery of his vision. Yes, suffice it to say, their spy had made an impression.

"I was familiar with Monsieur Javert. I cannot say with any certainty my feelings on the fact that he has not returned since our last Arena." It was the truth, if nothing else. Given their differences in France, and the visceral horror of their last encounter, Enjolras felt he might be content never to see the man again. "And a friend can make you smile, Mademoiselle. Furthermore, Marius has a tendency to see very little."

His tone remained flat, the last sentences more of an afterthought than anything else. Enjolras couldn't claim to have missed her meaning of course, and her actions on the barricade lent further evidence of it, but he wouldn't be made to directly comment. Devotion to one particular person was admirable in itself but never something he could fully comprehend. Not when the needs of the Republic were so pressing.

[gardienne]

"You did not see me either, though. Even here - I thought you might perhaps see me as the girl from Paris, but no. Perhaps it is because my teeth are good here. Or I have nice clothes. I do not know."

She shrugged. She was used to being invisible. And, although she protested against it, longed tp be recognised, she found that she had settled into her role, that she was comfortable within it. So much so that it was hard to accept that people here WANTED to see her.

"Perhaps here I have lots of friends then, Sir."

[orestes]

"More than you know, I suspect." Speaking in vague, oblique terms was more comfortable to him. "We forget sometimes, but we are different for everyone that we meet, whether we consciously remember them or not. While the social contract presents this argument in terms of the state and our interdependency on one another, it can also be presented in more human terms."

He paused momentarily on his tirade. Combeferre would be more substantive, he would have read more on the topic and be able to support the argument with more than simple panache and a gift for rhetoric which lately tended to land him in trouble more often than not. Combeferre would be able to provide the comfort and solidarity she obviously sought. Enjolras wasn't very good at being Combeferre and his expression tightened further at the very thought. It was, in essence, his regard for his lieutenants that he wish to portray for her. "I knew you, perhaps not for very long and perhaps not well enough to recognize in another city, but I knew you and for that I am different. Likewise, you know Marius and became his friend, you are vastly different for knowing him and he is different for knowing you. On a smaller scale, the same could be said of us. We all play an inextricable role in each other's lives, however small we might perceive it to be."