The Crowning of Maximus Decimus Meridius

[gamemakers]

Who| Everyone
What| Maximus' crowning
Where| Victory Hall
When| Today
Warnings| Violence.


Prior to the Crowning, the Stylists and Escorts were given information: the color scheme for the Crowning is brown and gold, the theme is fire, and for Tributes, Games Staff and Victors in the Capitol alike, attendance is mandatory. No exceptions.

The Victory Hall has been completely refitted to the theme. Great brownstone pillars reach up from the floor, now made of polished marble. Rose petals and dying embers flutter from the ceiling like confetti, and long panels of fabrics embroidered with Maximus' kills pour down the walls. Rather than tables, Tributes are given wooden chairs to sit around fire pits in groups of four, where pigs and sheep are roasting whole, tended by attentive Avoxes. The smell of charring flesh and rosemary wafts through the hall.

In the center of the hall is a pit, fifteen feet deep, ringed with brick and filled with sand. Torches line the inside wall, casting light in every direction. A circular screen up above lets those not close to the edge view the contents of the pit in real-time video.

Maximus' private table has a theme of anachronisms; Tributes from 'less-developed' timelines and worlds are seated around a long table, facing the gladiatorial ring where, at the moment, a full-grown, well-fed Bengal tiger paces. Compared to the muttations of the Arena, it may seem positively demure, up until it bares its fangs and reveals that it's been modified to have saber teeth gilded in gold. Occasionally an Avox will dangle something into the pit and jerk it away if the tiger looks bored and lays down.

Occasionally, with fanfare of music pumped in to announce it, a challenger enters the tiger ring - a hologram of one of the Tributes who were cuffed and marked by the Capitol. The hologram must be affixed with smell, too, as the tiger takes note and attacks like a kitten following a laser pointer, making dramatic roars as it does. The holograms put up valiant fights, and their deaths are brutal, illusory blood flying and the sounds of death rattles and bones cracking coming from speakers embedded in every table.

"A speech," Maximus' Escort says to Maximus. "The General must give a speech."

Tributes who attended Wesker's Crowning ceremony should notice a remarkable increase in security. Visibly armed Peacekeepers lurk behind the panels of fabric, and bulbous, obvious cameras dot the ceiling. Even the Avoxes seem shiftier than usual, and are equipped with discrete tape recorders pinned to their rough-hewn tunics.

Comments

OTA

[futilecycle]

It reeked of death. In the black spits and popping fire Sigma was reminded of the sound and scent of humans roasting, and was doing all he could to keep his temper; he was certain the allusion was intentional. The Doctor's dress for the evening had him in a soft gold tunic and pants, but in the places where Maximus had stabbed him were stitched scarlet threads, bursting open with designs equal parts flame and blood. The most prominent of these marks ran across his stomach, a deep crimson, nearly black, in the centre with an exit wound on his back to match. Pleasant.

Sigma recognized his own face - as well as Eponine's - on the wall, and stiffened defensively as Maximus began his speech. A smart man, and one that did not wish to be a part of what he had won, it appeared. Well, now he'd had his wish: he was out, and the child he had killed would continue to struggle against a tide deeper than she could handle. Dr. Klim threw a glance at Eponine quickly to see how she was taking it.

As the address finished, Sigma looked incredulous, turning back to the victor with disdain. There was nothing glorious, nothing comforting, about death, nor how one died. Death was an ugly, graceless, undignifying thing that spat souls not into paradise but an abyss his powers allowed him to remember. Empty, black, lonely. His usually gentle hands wrung together in his lap, he lowered his gaze, and he had yet to touch any food or drink.

Re: OTA

[splendid_roman]

"You don't like the speech?" Ian asked, surprised, from across the table. He'd liked it - it had been a good speech, he thought. But this man had an expression that suggested he didn't like something.

[futilecycle]

Sigma blinked, looked up at the other Tribute, and his stare softened into a small smile. Upon self reflection, he must have looked like a perfectly sour old man. "Pardon me. I wouldn't say I didn't like per se. It was certainly well spoken. I just do not appreciate becoming sentimental about death." The Doctor shrugged. "I can't say I care for the victor in question, either." His figure facing death on the wall was as obvious as the scarlet letter of his clothes.

[splendid_roman]

"Watching other people die can make you sentimental." His gaze flicked to Maximus, who would now get to watch everyone die in the arena. At least being in it meant you could avoid some of it.

"Maximus isn't that bad." Mind you, Ian liked him. Which was just as well being in the same district. "I think he'll make a good mentor."

[futilecycle]

"Sometimes. But not me," Sigma denied firmly. Rather, he was sentimental for the lives they had lived, when humans could live on a habitable earth and grow to old age as it was meant to be. "Speaking as someone who was killed by him, I cannot agree with your opinion. But yes, I suppose he will make an excellent mentor," the Doctor sighed sadly. Maximus would surely train his Tributes to succeed the way he had despite the consequences. "Do the two of you share a district?"

[splendid_roman]

Being killed by someone wasn't really something that endeared you to them, Ian could understand that. "We do," he confirmed. "We haven't met in the arena, which is just as well. It's hard to look someone who killed you or who you killed in the eye afterwards." And not something that was generally a problem anywhere else.

[futilecycle]

"How lucky for you," Sigma said simply. "District 10 is quite short on mentor presence." He lifted a glass of champagne to his lips that had been waiting at his feet, the first drink he'd had all evening. He'd been saving it for conversations like these.

"Very true," Sigma muttered knowingly, as though he'd been more familiar with that situation than only in these games. "I suppose there's nothing that can be done but to try again the next Arena and to avoid familiar hostile faces, is there?" he turned to the other guest and attempted the smallest of smiles to indicate that his tranquil fury was in no way directed at him. "Doctor Sigma Klim. And yourself?"

[splendid_roman]

Ian chuckled. "Ian Chesterton. I seem to make my enemies in the arena and then come across them outside of it, rather than in it." If he'd wanted to avoid meeting them inside the arena he was doing quite well.

"I'm sure there are psychologists somewhere listening to all our conversations and finding us fascinating." He didn't sound too keen about that idea.

[futilecycle]

Sigma laughed. "If there are psychologists in the Capitol, I would very much like to meet one," he said half-jokingly, as an aside. "But someone is listening carefully, that much is certain."

"Hm.. Is that so? I've been fortunate, then," Sigma continues. "Most of the villains I've come across in the Arena are quite apologetic once outside of it." Sigma threw a glance to Maximus. Yes, even him, he supposed. "At least there is some humanity to all of this. But if there is one who gloats when their kills are made, it would pay to be made aware of them..."

[splendid_roman]

"I don't think anyone gloats. At least I've not met anyone who did." Admittedly he hadn't been too keen to speak to people he'd fought with in the arena. "It's just too uncomfortable to think about what's happened." Ian fidgeted a little in his seat.

Re: OTA

[gardienne]

Eponine was actually studiously ignoring Maximus. She wasn't even pretending to pay attention. Instead, she played with her fork, holding it up to the light on the high table where she'd been plonked, before running her fingers across its prongs.

But as he droned on and on, she grew bored of the fork, and dropped it, gazing instead at the tributes huddled at the pits below.

After a while, her eyes fell on Sigma and she smiled at him absently. He was a nice man, Sigma. He made her feel a little bit loved.
She pulled her 'Vestal' shawl tighter over her head, hiding her lips behind the gauze. Just in case someone else should see, think she was laughing at Max's speech.

Once the talking was done though, she headed over to Sigma.

"Your costume, Monsieur.... that is what he did to you?" She touched the thread on his chest. "He is not nice, that man. Why did they dress you in such things? I thought they were to make us look good?"

Said the girl dressed blatantly as a Vestal, when possibly everybody by now knew her history. Ignorance really is bliss sometimes.

[futilecycle]

Sigma shook his head. Though her guess was true, he did not want her to investigate further. "Do not worry yourself," he assured. "I suppose the Capitol thinks it brave, fighting. I'm sure my stylist wanted to remind the crowd that I did participate." He wasn't at all proud of it, but he'd fight to the death to protect a young one rather than watch them die. Don had already learned that the hard way.

Sigma silently took note of Eponine's outfit and supposed it was less offensive than the one they made her wear to Momoko's crowning.

[gardienne]

"It makes it look like you failed. Like you were beaten." Her response was flat. "I think they set some of us up to lose, like against that... that thing in the pit. What is it?"

She glanced back over to the pit where the tiger prowled. It had not been a pleasant experience being splattered over and over with the holographic blood... but at least it wasn't real.

"I don't want them to think of you like that. They should think you're strong so you will win."

[futilecycle]

"I was beaten." Sigma said shortly. Had he succeeded perhaps it would be Eponine that sat in the victor's throne now. He cursed the absence of his powers, or else he could have continued a search for a universe where this sweet girl had lived, had won. Sigma turned his head to the Tiger, a creature he had not yet paid attention to. "Ah. That would be a Tiger. They were extinct in the world I am from, though I can attest that the teeth are a new addition."

He didn't want to think that some of them were being purposefully groomed to fail, that there were people behind the scenes fixing the Games so a crowd favourite would win. "That is kind of you to say, Eponine, but I do not wish to win," Sigma admitted. "They can set me up if they like. A lot time ago I, too, was a victor and it is better if the crown would pass to someone else."

[gardienne]

"No, you were not beaten, Sir. You might have won, but you chose to help me. That is not being beaten, I think. That is a better death - it shows your heart."

She held Sigma's gaze as she spoke, rather than letting her eyes flit as they usually did. She truly felt that Sigma was a noble man for helping her and she would not have him thinking any other way.

At his words though, her attention went back to the tiger. "I have heard of tigers, yoou know? The king had one in his menagerie, and so loud did it roar. But I didn't know what it looked like. It is beautiful, no? Now he would be a fine friend for Nye if I did not think he would gobble your cat up!"

But as he continued, she looked back at Sigma in surprise. "You were a victor, Sir? And yet you are a tribute now? That cannot be right..."

She sighed. "I am set up, too, I think. It is not so bad - it means, perhaps, that I can come here quickly and eat. I just wish they would stop pretending. It is harder when they pretend to care. I would rather they just left me in rags than let me think I could win."