thecapitol | New kind of victory.

"Save them for last," he said slyly. "For they are the best this party has to offer."

He popped a berry into his mouth then, though as delicious as it was, he was actually far more interested in the present company than in the offerings of food.

"I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you before, mademoiselle. I am Courfeyrac."

He gave her that little look, and immediately Cindy put on the list of 'good guy to hang with'. Good meant more then just good, as well as hang, if you get the drift. But he did seem like a good enough guy.

She warmed to him immediately. "Then I'll save them. I like having something to look forward to." She looked at the plate in her hand, and then put it down, turning so she could fully look at him in this dress. Once again, she had to be careful about breathing. She did like the gold better then the blue, though. Too much blue could be a bad thing.

"A pleasure, Courfeyrac." She smiled mischievously. "My friends call me Cindy, and I think we're acquainted enough for that."

Let's just take a moment from our story to pause and admire Cindy for a moment, because honestly, she was the vision of utter loveliness and it was all Courfeyrac could do to stop from losing his suave facade and making a fool of himself. She was, quite plainly, smokin' hot, and if he had that term in his vocabulary, he would have used it quite liberally in describing her.

"That we are, mademoiselle," he replied with equal mischief. "In fact, I believe we are something akin to teammates, if the impression I have been given of this place is correct."

Little did he know that this beautiful Cindy was the very same Cinderella that Enjolras and Venus had advised he seek out. If he'd realized that, he might have at least made an attempt at being serious and talking about their seditious ideas instead of blatantly playing the role of the flirt.

It was always, always good to know that she still had it. Not that it was ever in any doubt, but good looks were an asset she never wasted. Any big time thug always faltered on doing something to hurt a woman, and they really had a hard time in hurting a beautiful one. She'd taken advantage of that in so many ways.

Cindy found that applied everywhere. "We are! For right now we are, things get a little blurred in the arena." She had to shrug at that. "But before and after, we're a team." It really was a fine line that they played here. It was like a high school football team. Everyone played their best, but only one was getting a college scholarship.

She grinned. "So now that we're teammates, how about you escort a lady around while we get to know each other better?"

"That sounds like a brilliant idea." He found himself offering his arm to her, ready to abandon his meal and ignore everyone else in the room for the chance to be the sole object of her attention. It was crazy to act this way, and he felt crazy engaging in such a ludicrous pursuit, but it felt so nice and so natural that it was all but impossible to resist. Besides, she had the most enchanting smile he'd seen since arriving in this limbo of a universe.

"Shall I begin?" He smiled at her, offering to lead her toward the large glass windows which overlooked the shell of a city below. "If you could not tell by my atrocious attempts at this language, I am French. And, you see, I have only been present here for a few days. What about you, mademoiselle? You must tell me everything about yourself."

"Why thank you, you're such a gentleman." Cindy takes his arm. She was fully ready to be lead around somewhere. There was a lot of people here, but most of them were the crazy assortment of Capitol people. Not many from the actual district, which was truly unfortunate. But plenty of governmental officials, of some sort, and all the groups of stylists and their parties.

She let him begin, a look of curiosity on her face that was not fake, like some of her other looks. As said, plenty of people here, but not all together interesting ones. And they weren't also fellow tributes.

"I think you're doing just fine. You're very understandable, and the accent is adorable." Very adorable, in fact, and she looked out at the city. Town. District. Whatever it could be called.

"Hm. I couldn't possibly tell you everything, I think some things need to be found out instead." She gave him a wink. "But let's see... I've been here a few months now. I live in New York City, back home. And I run a shoe store... well, I own a shoe store. I tend to run around the world, I love to travel."

He was nothing but encouraged by her reaction to him, which boosted his already amplified confidence even further. He had never been the type to hem and haw. If he was drawn to someone, they could usually tell. His smile would be brighter, his eyes more alive, and his attention fully focused on the object of his desire. And in this case, his attention was squarely on Cindy. The strange lights outside the window were ignored. The Capitol folk and their entourages had been forgotten. None of them even registered. He was sickeningly engrossed in their conversation.

Tomorrow, or whenever he was removed from her presence long enough to sober up, he might feel regret about this. He might recall the depth of his sorrow over his situation, or perhaps his interest in the plight of the people of this District and the circumstances which had brought him into their sphere. He might curse this place and the people who ran things and wish desperately that Enjolras were around to spin ideas off of. But that would be tomorrow. The evening was reserved for someone beautiful and alluring and somehow intrigued by him.

"New York City? I have never met anyone from New York before. In fact, I daresay I had never met an American at all before this week." He let out a soft chuckle. "But you are a traveler. You must have visited France before. And the great cities of the world?"

She had been hoping for more information about the district then they actually got. Cindy was lucky in the fact that the people she would talk to, the ones she wanted and needed to, that they were all in different districts then her. Maybe, if they pooled their notes (she assumed everyone was taking notes of some kind), then they could get a sense of what was going on out here.

The peacekeepers at the doors were a good indicator. It was dark, so you could only barely make out the huge fence surrounding the district. Cindy decided to keep her attention firmly on his face. There was nothing anyone could do right now, except what they were doing. And having fun was definitely not a crime.

"You better get used to it. There's plenty of American tributes here." She paused, leaning in a little closer, voice dropping. "And this isn't confirmed, but if you ever have some time, check out a map of Panem. It looks like a place on Earth." Her voice goes back to normal volume as she grins.

"All of them, at least twice now. And I love Paris, actually. Nice, too." Cindy says thoughtfully. "I get why people want to travel to Versailles, but it's a little too much for my tastes." Which is saying something. After being in France way back when, she usually opted out of visiting there.

"But Venice is a good one, and Rio de Janeiro. Prefer sun over snow."

He would surely look at a map of Panem and compare it to his memories of maps from back home. It wasn't completely comforting, but in a way it did give him hope to imagine that even in this hellish place, France might be only an ocean away.

"I prefer the sunshine, too. But that is because I am from the south." He felt the sudden pang of nostalgia in his chest, realizing that this was the first time since his resurrection that he'd thought of his home without immediately thinking of Paris.

A blink and the thought was vanquished however. What good were bittersweet memories of a languid youth when compared to the beauty of someone alive and present and real? If anything, or anyone could make him forget himself and everything else, it was the lady in his presence. What was it about her? He couldn't say precisely, he only knew that she had a beautiful smile and that she was utterly fascinating to him.

"Have you had much chance to travel in this world, this Panem?" His question was innocent enough. Having arrived not forty-eight hours before, he was unfamiliar with all of the restrictions put in place. Of course he could see they were trapped in this room, just as they'd been trapped throughout their voyage, but the ins and outs and all the rules were still fresh to him.

She had been about to ask him about his home, when he changed the subject in a sense. There were a few reasons why someone wouldn't want to talk about their home. The biggest one, here, seemed to be that life back home for them was terrible and horrific in ways no world should be. But the other was firmly in the field of being sad about not being home. Missing home. Missing a place that you considered to be a place of calming, of warmth, of memories.

Cindy had those feelings, at times. But then, her home was the world, and Bullfinch Street. Home was friends who knew you and the secrets you had to desperately keep quiet, here.

At least she never thought about that manor in the Homelands as home. Which in turn reminded her of the ball, and then the-- oh hell no. Cindy looked closely at Courfeyac, and decided that he wasn't Prince Charming. Which meant he was a much, much better guy then her ex.

"Travel around Panem?" Cindy asked, laughing softly. "I'm sorry, it's not you. You just got here! So you don't know." She leaned a little more, a hint more, against him.

"This is the first time any of the tributes-- us-- have been outside the Capitol. Not counting the arenas, of course." Of course, right? "Apparently they've changed some important things dealing with the new tributes and the victor ordeal." The way she said it hinted at much, much more. Would you like to hear more?

He felt as though she was urging him to lean closer too, but he was somehow able to resist her and allow her to press ever so slightly against him. It would be improper to do otherwise, no matter how he would have liked to. He was too honorable to forget himself entirely. But it was all very tempting to disregard everything.

"I see. That is very disappointing, isn't it." He tore his eyes away from Cindy long enough to look out the window again. He wondered how far and how flat the land in the distance was. How far away was the sea? Was France on the other side of that sea? Was his freedom somewhere beyond? Curse this Panem.

"They must be very confident that none of us will try to escape. It is certainly a risk to let us all travel so far away from their Capitol."

"It really is." Cindy nodded. She wasn't moving, and if he didn't mind it, that was good enough for her. As he looked out the window, so did she. What was he seeing? She didn't have eyes to see everything about a person, nor he ability to read minds. Some things would remain a mystery, which was why she liked.

Mystery. Intrigue. What she saw when she looked out that window? She'd never tell.

"I think that the natives were getting restless." Cindy tugged a little on his arm. "You said you'd go check out every floor with me, we should get started, shouldn't we?" It's when they start walking that she's able to speak a little more freely.

Walking around could hide a few things. "When the games first started, it was once a year, and two kids from each district got sent in, right? And they don't come back if they die. So, people in the districts are getting pissed off about the way their being treated here. Not that I blame them." Her voice is low, tilting her head slightly so it was just the two of them as she rushed quietly. "Those kids before us, they messed with the system. So now they bring in us, and the Capitol must have thought that would be good enough to placate them, right? And it's not working out like they hoped it would."

She leaned back a little. "Hence our little trip out here." She waved a hand.

He took hold of her arm gladly, escorting her out of their initial room and out toward the bank of elevators which would lead them to the other themed floors. He listened intently, though he'd heard bits and pieces of the story when he initially arrived. However, the perspective was different than what he had heard from Marius and Gabriel and Enjolras.

"What do they expect we will do?" His face was set into a frown, not directed at Cindy, but more at their situation and at being unsure as to what was expected of them. It was pressure that he was unused to and poorly equipped to deal with.

The elevator arrived then, shiny metal doors sliding open, then closing behind them once they entered. Their reflections looked distorted and skewed in door. "Where shall we venture to? To the top floor perhaps?"

"They expect that we will be so glad and happy, because the districts should be so happy that they're not longer killing their own kids. Just us random people who aren't from here, and didn't want to be." Cindy shrugged a little, sighing as she looked at him sideways.

"Top floor sounds perfect. We can work our way down that way." She smiled, leaning against the back wall and closing her eyes for a moment. It was such a whirlwind of things to do here, and after, they would go back on the train. And after that, the arena. Who knew what would happen after all that?

"They expect us to hate the Capitol, because of what we're brought here to do. This trip? Now we've met hundreds of people who we are saving from dying, or sending in two of their kids to die." She laughed. "After seeing how much they love us, do you feel angry about going back in the arena?"

What has Enjolras said? That they should still be angry, for everything. Something Cindy agreed with wholeheartedly. She was a damn good editor.

"Yes." It was almost embarrassing to admit that out loud, but Courfeyrac was angry. He was angry and his anger was fresh enough that he would be boiling if not for the distance between himself and the Capitol, and his present company. He'd died for people who hadn't believed in him, given his life for people who wouldn't miss him or even mourn him. And those were his people. How could he expect that the people of District Eleven felt anything genuine toward him. How could he expect anything at all? Three days ago, he was in Paris, shot dead outside the cafe.

The elevator lurched to a halt and deposited them on the top floor. It was an extravaganza of violet proportions, and it was striking enough to jar Courfeyrac out of his moment of self-mourning.

"Ah, here we are. Purple. And what does this floor have in store?" He offered his arm to her again. "It is a shame all of this is for us. Surely there are people outside of this tower who could use a good meal."

"Good." Cindy breathed out, just as the elevator lurched to a stop. Very good. He should be angry. And that anger should be used, put to good use. He would just have to be very good at hiding it, because if he kept up like Enjolras, then Cindy might be well and truly fucked.

Good. She took his arm, following him out of the elevator and into this purple madness. Holy shit, was there a lot of purple. And people. A lot of people, and they probably should prepare themselves for being photographed.

Nope, let's just go in this direction. "Purple fruit, mostly." She looked at him with a smile. "There are a lot of them. Only a few people got picked to be here, but that's not even close to the rest of the district." If there was some way to get this food to them, Cindy would do it in a heartbeat.

"I don't know how they might react if we ask for a bag of leftovers."

"I certainly wouldn't mind if they were scandalized by us." His English was still a little stilted, but he was sure she would understand what he meant. Although, when he considered it more, he was pleased by the double meaning to his words.

Smiling back at Cindy, Courfeyrac tried to lead her through the crowds of people eager to throw themselves at the Tributes. If he had any residual doubts regarding the state of this new universe of existence, they were rapidly swept aside at the start of their encounter. He'd never been under such scrutiny before, and while he craved attention and longed to be adored, it was already to a level he could barely stand. The gasps and murmurs had been audible as they'd departed the elevator, only to burst into an uproarious chatter when the pair attempted to avoid the crowd.

"They do seem rather invested in us. I'm afraid I don't know what to make of it." He shook his head, glancing sideways at Cindy.

"I'm pretty sure that them being scandalized is not the problem. You've seen how some people look and act around here, this is all one big game." And it is a game, and to avoid one persistent young man, she shied a little away, pressing into him again.

"Sorry, this guy could have taken my whole dress off if he stepped on it once he got closer." Cindy laughed. "Now that is a scandal I don't feel like making." Still, they were able to get to the food table, and try to ignore everyone. And it really was everyone.

"Here's a hint for all of this: use it. We are literally in their hands. When you're in the arena, these are the people who will send you food and water and weapons, and they will do it a lot." Cindy sighed, shaking her head. "Survive the game, and attract people." She looked at him, giving a coy little smirk.

"They'll try to get to know you. You're young, and new, and just be careful of where some of those hands have been." At that she laughs, and moves away, just enough so that she can bend down and inspect the... grapes? Purple grapes.

He didn't mind at all when she pressed against him, taking the opportunity to place his arm around her as a barrier of sorts. See, Cindy? It's okay, girl. He's got your back. And he even held his tongue when it came to the other young man. Courfeyrac didn't see the need to cause a scene about it. Not yet anyway. Instead, he stared at the man cooly and kept his arm around her protectively.

"I've never had a problem winning people over." There was a flash of confidence again. He'd always been a force of gravity, pulling people in and keeping them within his orbit. He was the common bond between his friends of Les Amis, he'd brought Marius into the fold, he'd played host and social coordinator. He was a people person, and more than that, he loved attention. It wouldn't be much of a stretch for him to amplify his charm.

That said, he did a poor job concealing that he was checking Cindy out as she bent over the table to inspect the grapes. A tiny, satisfied grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "And you mustn't have difficulties with that either."

She looked back over, same little smirk playing on her lips. "That I don't doubt. You seem like the kind of guy who..." Tends to get what you want. "Doesn't ever lack for friends." Something she can respect. Maybe fiends wasn't entirely the right word. She didn't doubt he had friends, but you had some friends, and then there were 'friends'. Cindy was good at the latter. Her line of work didn't have her making actual friends very easily.

But knowing he's checking her out is great. Obviously if he was fifty and overweight, it wouldn't have the satisfaction that came with it. Some if he was, but definitely not the same kind.

Cindy straightened up. "I've been known to turn a head or two. It's always the witty banter that keeps them in, though. A good conversationalist is not always easy to come by. But I seem to manage fairly well."

Courfeyrac found himself standing up straighter to match her posture, slyly plucking a single grape from the nearest sprig. "You have proved to be quite... adept at it so far, Mademoiselle. I have no doubt there is no end to your admirers."

He cast a sideways look toward the other revelers, from the men hovering nearby for a chance to spy Cindy to the small crowd of women gathering to check out the latest and greatest Tribute for the District. He could hear them buzzing and chattering away, voices a dull drone that never seemed to cease. They were more annoying to him now than anything else. Those people were a distraction from his present (and enchanting) company.

"Your conversation is certainly keeping my attention." He knew he was being forward, but something told him Cindy would not mind.

"No end is in sight, unfortunately." It wasn't there for more then a second, but a brief drop in happiness. A split second, really, because she was already grinning when she looked back at him.

"And yours as well." She laughed, slyly looking over at their admirers. He really did need to make an impression with them, but for right now, she was selfishly thinking: some other time.

But the sound. It reminded her of her first ball. How excited and scary those murmurings had been! How she had been so nervous, but excited. Not to go marry the prince, of course. Not for that. But for spending time as a normal human being, or what she had always imagined them to be.

She hated it, now.

"It really does. And I would feel terrible with myself if I threw you to the wolves." Cindy smirked, taking the grapes she had and eating them slowly.

Watching her drop grapes into her mouth was far more interesting that it ought to have been. For some reason, Coufeyrac could not tear his eyes from her mouth. He was momentarily fixated, and he briefly wondered what it would be like to kiss her. She probably tasted incredible thanks to all the fruit from the District.

If he didn't stop thinking about it, he would surely drive himself mad thinking about her mouth.

"Do you not trust me to care for myself?" For the shortest of seconds he pouted, though the expression faded to a sly smirk just as the last of the words left his lips. "Or is this another aspect of this cursed game?"

You really did need to pace yourself, if you wanted to have a taste of everything here. But if you were in a dress like hers, you also couldn't eat much of it. Fruit was always a good standby. But good god, did she emphasize with people here. So many good things, just out of reach.

Catching him staring, for the briefest of moments, was an interesting, and exciting development. Must have been the grapes, of course, yes, it had to be the grapes. So she finished them slowly, before she answered. Done in the name of something for fun.

"I think that if we knew each other better, I'd know if you could take care of yourself." She matched his smirk. "I suppose some people could consider it an aspect of the game. I call it being a little selfish and not wanting to find someone new to talk to."

Courfeyrac's eyes remained fixed on her, though the rest of his face lost nothing of his playfulness. "I am not at all opposed to becoming better acquainted, Mademoiselle. Quite on the contrary, in fact."

He could sense the danger in his words, however. She was a potential ally– a beautiful and mysterious and altogether troublesome one at that. But likewise, in the Arena she could just as easily become his opponent. That was a distressing thought, as he was unsure if she would hesitate to harm him. He wasn't inexperienced, he knew how the femme fatale types operated. Was Cindy luring him in just to devour him, like some treacherous insect queen? Perish the thought!

"Consider this open permission to know me better. I am at your disposal. For you, I am an open book."

New kind of victory.

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maybe start wrapping up in the next few comments?

bueno :3

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