Back to normal

[gardienne]

Who? Eponine and whoever wants to talk to her
What? Eponine returns to the Capitol and (for once) the stylists have listened to her requests and just left her alone.
Where? wandering the streets
Warnings? I can't imagine that there will be too many.

It had taken her a lot of staring into the mirror in her bedroom to convince Eponine that she was not hallucinating. It had taken her a lot of pinching and prodding and poking her finger through the gaps in her teeth to convince her that it wasn't a dream. She was back. She looked how she had done in France, sunken cheeks, matted hair and big bags beneath her eyes and scars from living rough, and her Pa's belt when he was cross. She wasn't beautiful any more, but then, what did it matter? Men refused to love her, beautiful or no.

Rather, she was elated. FINALLY, someone had listened. FINALLY someone had given her even a little bit of control over some aspect of her life. She didn't like how she looked - but it felt a little bit more honest at least.

Having dressed in just a simple brownish pinafore dress, Eponine wandered out into the Capitol to find food and a friend.

It was so lovely to be able to walk along and not be stared at for a change.

Comments

[retrieverchef]

Eliot was on his way back to the Training Center. He'd opted to walk back this time, wanted to space to clear his head. It would have worked better if his face wasn't so well known. He mostly tried to ignore everyone. He did notice the girl walking down the street, looking both really familiar and a bit out of place. He couldn't tell who she was until he got closer, though.

"Eponine?"

[gardienne]

"Monsieur Elliot!" She grinned back at him, and bobbed a quick curtsey. "Do you know, I thought you had gone home, or been killed for good. I did not see you in the arena at all. But - if you are here, it means you have not won. Now that is a shame, Monsieur."

[retrieverchef]

He smiled back at her. "It just means I'll have to try again next time. It's a shame you didn't win." He means it. He'd rather her win than him.

[gardienne]

She waved his comment away.

"For me, no. It was not a possibility to win. They put me in when I am drunk and I die of the cold. I do not mind, truly. It is not something to care about. But to win in such a state, no. That is not for me."

[carnagecarnival]

It's a curious thing, always, to see some of the tributes, so imbued with life, come back withered looking or ill. A month or more of strife-less shine beneath their skin, of hope and fresh fear behind their eyes. They come back a little more worn, if not from the arena, then from what battles their previous lives afforded them.

He hadn't paid attention to many before, in the early days, but he can't recall Eponine looking as she does, when she comes up the street. He is sure that's Eponine-- the stark contrast of Mituna, his closest, before and after the arena's gives him more than ample comparison. But the most curious thing is the way she seems happier for it. It's almost damn catching. Maybe that's what prompts him to speak up here, instead of trying to fade into the backdrop of the capitol like he has for days now.

"EVENING, SISTER," He calls out. "A miracle true all presented at itself to she resent, yes? YOU GOT THE GRIN ABOUT YOU, YOU UP AND DO."

[gardienne]

"Bonjour, Monsieur."

It's that person - the thing, the monster who lurked in the shadows of the roof. The thing that had hissed convulted sentances and talked of a god and a planet she didn't know. But he hadn't hurt her; he must be a friend, right? She bobs a curtsey anyway, and smiles.

"I thought you had gone, Sir. I did not know that you remained. Are you well?"

[carnagecarnival]

The barest of smiles cracks along the side of his mouth into a crooked grin. He stands straighter, stepping a little away, then with a flourished wave of one hand, the other held at his back, he bows.

"Gone no ways away. THEY'LL NEED AT MAKING LIKE TO TRY MUCH HARDER TO RID OF HE. He is not ill, but neither has he felt need to make presence announced," He says. "AND YOU, SISTER EPONINE? What news dost be about her?"

[gardienne]

She laughs at his bow, guttural and low.

"You needn't bow to me, Monsieur."

His speech is as difficult to follow as ever, and Eponine has to listen hard, to actively think over what the Initiate says so that she can follow him.

"Don't you wish to leave here, Sir - oh, but how lovely you remember my name. I did not think you would, you know? But there is no news for me; I have come only now from that horrible arena where that horrible Howard hit me over the head."

And tried to save her life.

[alonelikeme]

Cosette was still dealing with everything... Her first arena, her first death. She wandered the city, finally having given in herself to how her stylists insisted on dressing her... A pretty dress and a nice coat, colorful tights and shoes that were difficult to walk in at best.

She paused when she caught sight of Eponine. Not in the clothing that was often forced on her, but in something more familiar of back home. Something that immediately filled her with guilt. She had given in to the ridiculous requests of this place and here Eponine was, clinging to something familiar. They had switched places since she first arrived, her spark of rebellion had died out and Eponine's had flourished.

[gardienne]

Would Eponine ever not feel that horrible pang of jealousy that came whenever she saw Cosette? It felt like a punch to her hollow stomach to see Cosette looking so well, so lady-like and beautiful in the pretty dress and tailored coat. And here was she, teeth missing, cheeks hollow, drab dress... How could she compete with Cosette? How could she even hope to?

But it was by her own choice, her own insistence that she had been left like this. She had chosen her dress, and lucky she was: it was drab, but it was warm and well-made. There was nothing to be jealous of. She could never be a lady like Cosette, and she'd never be loved by someone like Marius. But that was okay. She'd be okay. She was always okay.

So she held her head high and bobbed a curtsey at Cosette.

[alonelikeme]

To Cosette, she didn't even know it to be a competition. Cosette thought sincerely that they were the slightest of friends here and she clung so desperately to the knowledge of someone from home. Even if what little she remembered of their past was rocky at best. At the curtsy, Cosette allowed a small smile to her lips and returned the action, finding it awkward in the shorter dress she'd been forced in.

"Eponine... They didn't force you into their ridiculous clothing this time?"

Like herself, who had given into the stupid whims of her stylists.

[gardienne]

"No, Mademoiselle. I would not let them." she replied tightly, hugging her skinny arms about her body.

She eyed Cosette warily. "You don't curtsey to me. Not any more. Not for a long time. You don't remember me as your sister - I am the beggar who accosted you in church and led you to our rooms. Things do not change here, Mademoiselle."

She couldn't look at Cosette; she looked at her feet. The girl was beautiful, so lovely in all aspects. And Eponine hated her for it.

[justgaveup]

On the one hand, the suites were really, really, really fucking amazing. If Perry could spend the rest of his life there, he'd be perfectly fine with that. A soft bed, as much food as you wanted (nice, hot, non-carbtien food), and the best part? Not having to worry about any dead people knocking on your front door.

Still, he wanted to stay in, but the escort guy, some weird person, kept pushing him outside. Something about needing to get people to know who you are, since you arrived here at such an inopportune time, and you needed to smile more... nope. He would go outside and wander around some, get some food and drink, but he wasn't going to go and. Network. No one really knew him, and he liked that.

Plus, the bright colors were too bright. Everything was a little too clean. Perry thought the clothes were just ridiculous. So when he saw someone wearing something a little more plain, even if it was a different kind of dress, it was almost a relief

"It's nice to see something a little more normal." Perry was going in the opposite direction, but he'd stopped to give the compliment.

[gardienne]

"Is it so normal, Monsieur?" Eponine smiled, revealing rotting and missing teeth.
"Me, I have never seen such a dress before; it is not as I should like, but it is more than enough for I, I suppose."

She lowered her gaze, remembering her manners then, and bobbed a curtsey.

"Forgive me, Monsieur. Are you a tribute as well?"

[justgaveup]

"Pretty normal, in comparison to all of the stuff here." The teeth part does make an impression. He's used to the people who have this problem back in the stadium, they try to hide it more. It's usually the ones who are slowly coming to the stadium, though.

The ones you're not sure if they're corpses first or not. "You're more knowledgeable of it then me, then. Back home, we don't really have time for those kinds of clothes." He goes to smile back as well, but you can tell that it's not easy for him to do that.

"Yeah, I am. I'm Perry, it's nice to meet you." He stuck his hand out for her to shake, but only because he doesn't really want to bow. "You're... I know I've seen you before, but I don't know your name."

[gardienne]

Back at home, Eponine barely HAD clothes. Let alone time to think on them. So she didn't answer that.

Instead, she stared at his hand, before taking it in her dirty one, and shaking it quickly.

"'Ponine, Sir. My name is Eponine Jondrette. Have you really seen me before? In the arena, you mean? On their televisions? Yes - they have sent me to many arenas now."

[saisamour]

For once, it was not the impossibly bright-colored hairstyles or the gold-spun clothing or the green-painted skin that startled Marius.

In his usual half-awake, half-daydreaming state he almost failed to see Eponine, but her recognizable figure caught the corner of his eye and when he turned his head to her it felt like something had jolted him awake, and he stood stunned on the spot. For she was not simply familiar in the sense that she was from the same Paris as he. After all, Enjolras was the same. But the outrageous outfits and the themed costumes and the alterations to their supposed imperfections somehow robbed them of something familiar, something that was the "them" he remembered.

He could recall only one other time he felt the way he did now, as he stared at her appearance. It was when he first saw Cosette in the Capitol wearing a simple dress, something similar to what she would have worn in Paris, and it was something that brought in him an odd sense of comfort: the feeling of being yanked from a never-ending nightmare and abruptly cast back into the reality that he knew.

Such was his astonishment that he cried out before he realized what he was doing, "Eponine!"

[gardienne]

And Eponine, startled from her fog of determination not to look at anyone, not to acknowledge stares or whispered words at her bedraggled appearance, looked up at her name. Her name, from those heavenly lips. Her name, whispered by a god. She looked up, and she smiled that horrible smile of hers, showing gaps and blackened gums and cracking her sore, chapped lips. And almost without realising she was moving, she was in front of Marius, milimeters away from him, her hand half raised, as if to touch his face or stroke his hair.

"You said my name." She tried to whisper properly, seductively, enticing him to say her name again. Had he somehow fallen for her? At last. Her heart burned with hope; for once, he looked at her, he acknowledged her, wanted to talk to her. Perhaps, finally, finally, he had become enamoured with her. Perhaps he would stroke her hair back and hug her and kiss her tenderly on the cheek and hurry her away. Perhaps this was truly the beginning of her fairytale.

She was quite lost in thought, and slowly, her hand drifted closer to his face as she stared into his lovely, lovely eyes.

[saisamour]

He did not move away until her hand was mere inches away from his face. And then, involuntarily, his shoulders tensed and he took a single step backwards, although his eyes did not leave the familiarity of her image. It was far from beautiful or radiant, but it anchored him. Reminded him of the dirty, run-down places he had run off to when he no longer cared about wealth, in the same way Cosette reminded him of Luxembourg and Rue Plumet and untamed gardens illuminated with starlight. He had forgotten what home looked like, really looked like, sometimes. Even his nightmares were of the Capitol now.

"You..." He could feel the heat spreading throughout his face; his exclamation had been due to his bewilderment, and he found that he had little to say otherwise. In a reflexive response to his embarrassment, he hastily averted his eyes. "You look different."

His brows scrunched together then; no, that was not quite right. Glancing back at her, he added in wide-eyed honesty, "Or rather, you are the same as you once were."

[maythrowup]

'Coming back' was one hell of a trip. He didn't understand the half of it, the science behind it; only the lack of heart. The lack of humanity. How they were expected to trot around, dressed to the nines, acting as if they could function usually in daily life, here in a city where they'd been kidnapped and brutalized? McCoy didn't know.

Only, that it seemed there was no choice.

When the mind was weary, the body wandered. He was on his way to figure out where someone could get something to drink in these parts; because no amount of planning, or hemming in complaint would have the same effect of soothing his burnt-out nerves that a glass of bourbon did.

A man should be allowed a little vice, after his own death.

Granted, when he spotted a woman dressed in... what looked to be rags, looking frighteningly malnourished? That goal was dropped, and instinct kicked in.

A doctor was a doctor, after all.

"Ma'am?" Called, tilting his head a little with a concerned grimace, wanting to get her attention.

[gardienne]

At first, Eponine didn't look up or acknowledge McCoy. It wasn't through rudeness, exactly. More just complete obliviousness. She was completely absorbed in her own thoughts, in holding her head high and not seeing anybody else. But when she did realise that McCoy was calling to her, she stopped and looked back, and curtseyed awkwardly.

His expression was odd; it was similar to the one Sigma used when he looked her over, or Eva. But coming from a stranger, it was odd, and Eponine made no move to come closer.

"Might I help you, Monsieur?"

[maythrowup]

"Wonderin' the same thing about you, to be honest. You warm enough in that?" It was maybe a forward sort of question, but he was distracted by how barbarically malnourished she appeared to be.

So, it was as an afterthought that he added, "I'm a doctor. Name's McCoy. You look like you could use a square meal, and some better shoes. Are you from around here?"

Nosey? Maybe. It was his job, after all.

[iflipmyhair]

There was another figure, that Eponine likely remembered. She sat outside, near a tea shop, casually sipping her drink as she tapped her hand on a closed book. Each time she brought her cup to her lips, her strange ring glinted in the light. Though the ring itself was clearly silver, the light seemed to reflect lavender, and different hues of it, every time.

A book about a torrid romance between Maximus and Wyatt as they traveled through time. The writer wasn't actually so bad, but it was needlessly melodramatic. That, and they seemed unaware of how relations between two men would work.

Though the younger girl seemed not to notice Eponine, in fact she spotted the girl wandering in the corner of her eye. Nor did Homura have much doubt that, by now, Sigma's fate was fully disclosed to her.

That, of course, couldn't be helped. And she knew she had to face the music, inevitably, as she brought her drink down from her lips.

"If you wish for something to drink," she spoke, to no one, but also, to Eponine, "there are empty seats at this table."

[gardienne]

"Always you offer to me a drink, Mademoiselle." Eponine, of course, recognised Homura. Did she bear a grudge towards the girl? No, not really. She realised that things happened in the arena... and she was much more concerned with herself, and her changed image for now. She came over to the table, but didn't sit down.

"So your bombs did not work then?" She grinned, revealing her brown teeth, and the dark gaps where they had fallen out or been pulled.

[iflipmyhair]

"'Soul, thou hast much goods laid up...take thine ease,'" Homura replied quietly. "Its simply the way we do things where I'm from."

For different reasons. But Eponine didn't need to know them all.

"But, on the contrary." Her cup came down with a soft clink. "They worked very well, just as I'd hoped."