The Gamemakers (
gamemakers) wrote in
thecapitol2013-09-02 11:22 am
Entry tags:
- cassandra marko,
- commander shepard,
- event: crowning,
- harley quinn,
- joan watson,
- sigma klim,
- terezi pyrope,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- wesker,
- wyatt earp,
- ✘ andraia,
- ✘ azula,
- ✘ chris redfield,
- ✘ donatello,
- ✘ dr. holiday,
- ✘ ian chesterton,
- ✘ ian gallagher,
- ✘ jack atlas,
- ✘ john watson,
- ✘ maximus,
- ✘ orc,
- ✘ peeta mellark,
- ✘ pepper potts,
- ✘ pruna,
- ✘ r,
- ✘ shion,
- ✘ some ovmennet,
- ✘ the disciple,
- ✘ timaeus nadir
The Crowning of Maximus Decimus Meridius
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.
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.

no subject
Cuthbert. If Wyatt'd ever had to see him again, it'd have been too soon.
"Funny, could say the same 'bout you."
no subject
He lowers his head in a gesture of acceptance, but he can't seem to wipe the smile off of his face. He saw some of what Wyatt did in the last arena and he can respect a good fighter. He also knows that Wyatt is close to the new victor, so really, he doesn't want to make things worse than they already are.
no subject
Of how gleefully Bert had smiled at the prospect of death.
"Maybe, but somehow I don't reckon so," he replied, the usually slow, polite drawl cool and clipped. They might both be stuck here, and they might both have to obey the rules dictated by the Capitol, but they didn't have to pretend they were anything but what they were. Two men with no love lost between them.
Bert might have found it amusing to play nice with his enemies, but Wyatt could of several better ways to spend his limited time outside the arena and already his eyes were moving down the table, looking for a chair as far from Bert as he could get.
no subject
"Because it says something poor of thee or of us all?" It's still strange that he and Wyatt are probably the closest in terms of the worlds they were taken from, and yet they don't seem to be destined to get along.
no subject
His eyes returned to Bert, an icy blue. A chill weight. Not a drop of warmth or connection to be found. It didn't matter to him that they were from similar worlds. Even in his own he had known men like Bert, and he hadn't cared for them any either.
It was strength of character, the men and women that they were, that bonded Wyatt to his friends. Not where and when they happened to live.
"An' You've already shown me yer colors."
no subject
That blue is both familiar and chilling to him, but Cuthbert isn't about to back down to this challenge. He worked hard to be the man he was and he wasn't going to give up the man he had become to please anyone.
His outfit took away from the effect a bit but he still stood tall and proud. It wouldn't be wise to start a fight, but if one comes to him, he's ready.
no subject
Wyatt was no more moved by the way Cuthbert puffed up like a belligerent popinjay, than he was by the speech. The man might be trying to save face by holding his ground, but he'd already long lost whatever respect Wyatt might have shown him.
He tolerated him now only because he forced to.
"No one's above the law."