Ms/Mr Capitol Pageant - Freestyle Design

[Avalon]

{ fuCK fancy tables

-cracks knuckles-

there will probs be one put in later tho 
for blitz tho }

"I'm tired of this pageant can I just get Stella Summit Shortcake?"

Mirabilia was only but an eight year old in a pageant full of those who, how she described, were old enough to get their face lift to hide their creases. Her mouth was made unfiltered, and she spewed it at the competition, her mother, always reprimanded her when saying things like- "Why do your nipnops sag past your belly button?"

She took a bite of her Heather Tenley Grilled Chicken Breast before having her hand tugged, to the point where she dropped her fork with a clatter against a plate. "Let me go!", she screamed, the fear was in the eyes of the techie, who called her upon stage only but several minutes ago. ( "I'm famous and I'm only eight years old." ) It was a very well known fact, casting upon headlines since her birth, that the daughter of Capricious was no forsaken thought, being the only little girl in a crowd of boys.

"I can't, no no no no no I'm not doing that, I'm sorry."

The auditorium fell silent in awaiting awe of what was to come next. Mirabilia pulled at her hand, she screamed, kicked, slapped, though nothing was sufficient enough to get her to cooperate. Food was her only motivation, and she was the definition of a- toddler in tiara ( ((; )- She powdered her cheeks with her bare hand, calming down from a hurricane, to only the after storm, she carried her circus ball in two hands. Strutting like the diva she is, the crowd screamed and cheered, "YAAASSSS MIRA YAASSSS BABY WORK IT MOMMA SLAAAYYYYYY", she got to the front, adorned in her brightly colored outfit, all designed to look as though she'd come straight out of Cricket Antionette's circus.

[Lyn𝛿is]

Nina Crowne

Fashion. A picture was worth a thousand words, so they say, but designing clothes was far from my specialty. Still, with the prize of spending a day with any celebrity of my choice - oh, of course I wanted to meet Kirito, it wasn't even a question - who could resist entering?

Besides, even if designing clothes wasn't her specialty, figuring out the kinds of things people wanted was, and she knew that there were few things more important to a Capitolite's life than keeping up with the latest celebrities, eating the finest foods, and of course, watching the Hunger Games. She had loved the 70th Quell, as had many others, and the unexpected District 11 victory, the exciting Career pack, and the many plot twists had made it an arena nobody in the Capitol was likely to forget for a while.

Not to mention, it was the arena she felt most inspired by, the clock tower and the dopplegangers and the genius Katelyn Persimmon had exhibited in bringing home a lone tribute in an arena that couldn't have been farther from the fields of delectable fruits that grew in Eleven.

Nina stepped out onto the stage confidently, the lights glistening on her smooth facial features and polished outfit. The theme color was clearly bronze, the outfit modeled after the arena of the 70th Games. Over a simple pink camisole, she had layered a winding, woven horn as her jacket, its maw opening wide at the bottom of the dress and ringed with miniature knives, swords, and other weapons. A gentle gradient flowed smoothly down her leather high-heeled boots, starting with pink on the top and blending into brown at the soles and heels.

Her thin, long arms were also covered by sheathes of leather, a flurry of twenty-four gears trailing down the side of each vambrace. As she lifted her arms in a dramatic gesture, the gears turned, their clicking picked up by the microphones and heard throughout the crowd. Another pair of arms, made of metal, stretched across her back, a thin layer of false skin peeling away from its coating. She flipped a switch, and the metal arms drew downwards, fingers pinching and unzipping the middle of the cornucopia trenchcoat to reveal a loosely tied corset accentuating her ample cleavage.

But the highlight of the outfit was a large, ornate gear covering her eye, tied across her head by a strap designed to look like that of a watch. In the center of the gear was a clock face reminiscent of the face on the infamous clock tower of the 70th games, and the hands of the clock ticked down second by second. It was a nod to Elya, it was a nod to Kirito, it was a nod to the many exciting deaths and disfigurements that had entertained everyone over the course of those Games, sure to provoke emotion from the viewers who undoubtedly remembered the events not scarcely one year ago.

"My outfit captures the excitement and beauty of the 70th Hunger Games," Nina announced. "I have to say, the Quell certainly delivered the surprising twists we hoped from it - it was the most thrilling Games I've ever had the pleasure of reporting on!" She twirled around before bending forward and bowing to her audience, letting her jacket hang loose and smirking seductively. With just a slight pause for effect, she tossed her hair and strutted offstage.

(credit: rinmarugames)

[Muffinface]

Birds flying high, you know how I feel

"Misty Peaks, fashion fanatic, off-mainstream games talk-show host, and hopeful for Miss Capitol right here, at your service~!" She beams, her magnificently pearly white smile dazzling and shimmering as she steps forward. Perfectly crimson lipstick presses against her mouth as she offers a kiss towards the audience.

"As you can see-" she says, captivating, stepping forwards in her feather coated, bone-decorated suit. "I've recreated the hastily designed outfit of none other than Beretta Corléon's outfit in the seventy first games." The feathers atop her skull and down her front shiver and twitch with every step down to her thigh-high boots, decorated with ebony feathers, tipped with silver.

"She was absolutely my personal favorite tribute, and what better fitting remembrance than to have her uniform live in fame~?" Her voice lilts slightly as she spins, the feathers cascading around her as she turns. Gold painted rib bones lace down her chest, lost below the fang-adorned brazier she wears atop her chest, down her spine, down her arms and legs.

"So dark, so beautiful, so reminiscent of death herself!" Misty continues, stopping at the end of her runway and striking a pose, her skin-tight underwear also ebony feathered, down with half a skirt in the back. A gold and black, shimmering crown rests atop her skull, a dark smirk pushing through her contact-coated eyes, with the pupils extended in a line downwards, her ebony locks curled and bobbed so carefully against her shoulders.

She offers a final kiss, and turns perfectly on a heel, her hips swaying as she moves, spotlights practically lighting her on fire.

"The Queen of Death herself is alive in these halls, and she's haunting you."

[sbeeg]

This portion of the pageant is now closed.