The Gamemakers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thecapitol2013-09-02 11:22 am
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
A small wooden buffalo, given to a friend. A shining metal star, heavy in his pocket. A fond smile, from across a flickering fire.
"...It ain't a traditional compliment, but I assure ya that is my intent," his smile pulled, a gentle curl at one corner. "I think yer gonna be alright here."
And one those, if he had go at all, that he'd far rather go into the arena with.
no subject
Or having her hologram ripped apart by a ravenous tiger.
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"I wouldn't wish it on ya, but iffen ya do--" his wrist shook, the cuff rattling, "you'll have company. There's more 'en a couple'a of us."
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"The bracelet thing is going to backfire on them. They just give the Tributes a group identity. Not to mention it's becoming a mark of pride instead of shame." She nodded toward Maximus. "It's like the Romans persecuting the Christians. The religion probably wouldn't have made it out of the first century without it."
no subject
"Even an old timer like me knew better than to lock the troublemakers up in the same cell. Only give's 'em a chance to plot together against the keeper."
It wouldn't be tonight, or tomorrow, or before the next arena. Likely not even in time to stop the one that would follow, but someday.... With every additional tribute they brought in, the Capitol was only adding powder to the keg they were sitting on. Sooner or later, it would catch.
Of that Wyatt had no doubts.
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She narrows her eyes, gives her head a small, sharp shake.
"Still. Stupid."
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"I come from my district," he replied slowly, thoughtfully. "I reckon it's changed, quite a lot, but the Capitol still sits atop the United States and even if it's called somethin' else, Kansas is still out there."
He rubbed at the cuff again, idly.
"They don't let us out there, I haven't seen it since bein' brought here, but sometimes I wonder what would happen iffen they did. Would they be glad, that's its us instead of them, or would they be angry - an' rightfully so, that the Capitol can bring us back, but never did their children?"
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"...Not to say we ain't got our supporters. I'm sure there's some," he said finally, a low, careful reply. "Whether they like us 'er not, we've still all got the same enemy."
His head tipped, eyes flicking back toward the table and the knot of Peacekeepers at the end. The honor guard, standing fast beside Snow's chair.
no subject
"Maybe they see that. That for the most part, we're people to cheer for, not work against."
no subject
His gaze returned to her, voice dropping a fraction. They were straying into dangerous territory, and the Crowning, while boisterous, was hardly the place for such talk. Not will all the Peacekeepers, not with the many mechanical eyes spinning from the ceiling, not with Snow mere yards away.
"We'll need 'em."
Numbers didn't win wars, but they certainly helped.
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"We should get together sometime. Before the next arena."
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He almost reached for his hat again, the urge to give it a friendly tip so ingrained it was almost instinct, but he held out his hand instead, offering a shake.
"I ain't hard find, ya jus' let me know."
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"I will. And feel free to come find me, too, if there's ever something I can help you with."
They need to stick together, after all. Especially since it's clear this place is so full of dangers.
no subject
He meant it sincerely, for as much as it was likely for any of them.
Then, slight smile still playing around his mouth, he turned into the crowd and headed away.