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
"R-right...sorry it's just..." She looked down ashamed that this of all things had shaken her so badly.
"They're all laughing and smiling like it's funny. It's not funny. None of this is." She was referring to the locals of course. The ones who would never have to know the pain and suffering of an arena. And honestly most of them probably weren't paying attention but to a kid watching a version of herself get eaten alive? It would probably seem that way.
"I hate this place." She muttered exhausted from her fear already. She just wanted her drugged tea and to hide under her comforter till it was all over.
no subject
"They don't think. They don't have to think. To them, this is just...another day. But you are better than they are," That was a low bar, but it was also the truth, "Think about it, Sandy. Why in the hell would they do this? Think it's to make people laugh? Or to make you feel like shit."
no subject
"It's not like I'm all that threatening am I?" As her hand rested on the cuff that all troublemaker tributes were forced to wear she considered all she had done to incur the capitols wrath. She had spoken out, expressed how wrong she thought it all was. And she had tagged buildings with her graffiti. But since being cuffed she hadn't done any more graffiti. And yet they were still kicking her around.
no subject
But she wasn't yet so inhuman that the defensive posture was lost on her. Shepard let go, took a sip of her drink, let the moment stretch and settle in.
"If you're scared, just keep your head down, don't do anything impulsive. I'll try to look after you, much as I can," If you can't win, then make sure the other guy can't either. But she came by her reputation honestly, and she liked Sandy, but that had never been a guarantee, "That's not much, sorry. I've got my own ass to worry about."
no subject
"I wish more adults were like you." She muttered having relaxed into a pout rather then panic.
no subject
Not that she cares. Shepard takes a weather eye to this entire business, sort out the chaff from the grain, the weak and short-sighted from those who might still be of use. The crucible of war... More of Ashley's battlefield poetry. Shit.
"Stay on your toes, kid," and with a nod she turned away.
no subject
But despite that she still took the time to try and encourage Sandy. Honestly Sandy thought Shepherd didn't even like her.
With mixed feelings about her situation and a new admiration for the scarred veteran Sandy turned her back on the next holographic victim in the tiger pit. She would have to learn to be like Shepherd and Pruna if she wanted to survive. She would need to be more like a stone.