thecapitol | New kind of victory.

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."

She could. She could stab him in the back once they got into the arena. It's not as if she'd never done that before. But if she likes someone well enough, she's had a history of not killing them in the arena. Though, she has been there to hold her friend's hands as they died, so maybe she was just bad luck.

His odds were an even 50/50. "You know, I do think you're an open book." She smiled. "That's pretty refreshing, you know. Not everyone here can say they are an open book." She reached out to take his hand, and then pulled away, leaving a plum there.

"These are really good, you should try them." Her smile gave way to a smirk.

Courfeyrac stared at the plum in his palm for several long seconds before popping the fruit into his mouth. Hanging on her every word in spite of himself, he ate the fruit and admired her thoughtfully.

"Exceptional. I have never tasted one quite like it." His mind wandered back to his friends then, to Enjolras and Marius and the important warnings they'd attached to everything. They were constantly being scrutinized. It was dangerous to reveal too much of oneself. There were spies around and no one could truly be trusted, not even other Tributes. It was foolish of him to open himself up to a total stranger, but he felt like he knew Cindy. She was dangerous and in control, and she was more like he was than any other woman he'd ever met in his life. He wanted to know her. He wanted to know everything, not at the expense of his friends but in addition to it. Was that really so bad? Was he out of line for that.

"But you are not an open book are you, mademoiselle. I do not blame you, certainly. Every lady is entitled to her secrets." He risked another smile, grabbing another plum for himself. "However, I should like to know all about you as well. Talking all about myself would be exceedingly tiresome."

She had such a good retort in mind for right then. Something about being an open book, just go to the library and look up a certain fairy tale book. It was all right there. Even though it really wasn't, but it wouldn't be a good retort if you said one thing and then went on to say 'just kidding, not really'.

"But it wouldn't be that tiresome to hear it." Cindy went back to a smile, her expressions shifting as fast as she thought of them. Lying required skill, but telling the truth required strength.

"I grew up in a place about as big as this. A small town, ruled under a monarchy. But the town was nice. Nicer then this, but just as small." She looked at the window. "I think that's why I like cities. The bigger the better."

"Then you are not an American?" The question was perhaps a stupid one, but he did not know any better. She had said she lived in New York, so he had come to that conclusion on his own. He really did have a lot to learn about... well, everything. Especially about Cindy, though. "Is your town anyplace I would have heard of?" He imagined a duchy of some kind. Someplace cozy and quaint, far removed from the rest of society, almost like a fairytale.

Deciding that he should indulge her by any means necessary, he gave her a bit more about himself. "I myself am from the country, though I was sent off to school in Paris when I was a boy. That is what is customary for men like me. My family is rich, so they sent their son far, far away to learn the letters and become cultured. Once I arrived in Paris, I did not look back."

He reached for something else on the table then, a handful of figs. He had never been as fond of them as he was of other fruits, but it would be a sin not to try everything. Eyebrows raised in a questioning expression, he offered one to Cindy as well.

"I'm an American." Cindy said with some strength behind it. It didn't matter if she was from a fictional town in the Homelands, or whatever. She'd immigrated here just the same as every other Fable. So they all were Americans, through the ages.

She took her time, listening to him intently as she picked up a glass of wine to have something to drink. Deep and dark, much like the color. She liked the color.

"Sending kids off to boarding school isn't that rare anymore, where I'm from." Grinning, she took one, looking at the fig. "I had some schooling, but it as once I was grown up, that I was able to get some more formal training."

The particular details of what made her an American or not would have been lost on Courfeyrac. His own sense of national pride was intertwined with his ethnicity to the point that he sometimes found it difficult to understand how one could become so attached to a place that held no ancestral ties. He'd have been curious to ask Cindy about how she came to America, but their friendship was just in its infancy. There would be plenty of time for him to ask to hear the story in the future.

"It sounds to me as though you have led a fascinating life, Miss Cindy." He ate the fig mindlessly, not caring to consider the flavor. It was a distraction from his other senses right now. It was distracting him from her. Though, if one were to get technical about it, Cindy herself was perhaps the most distracting thing in the room.

The room seemed to be getting a bit more crowded then, and Courfeyrac wondered if perhaps they should move along. There were other places to see, places which he hoped would not involve the two of them becoming crushed by the crowd of eager party guests. Offering her his arm again, he gestured to the exit. "Perhaps it is best if we move along. The evening is young and there are places to see besides this little room." His eyes fell to the windows across the room, to the faint lights in the distance. "There is an entire world outside."

Even when she was in the Homelands, Cindy never thought of it as her home. Not to the extent that other Fables did. Dear lord, Beauty was constantly harping on the fact that she didn't have any land to call her own, that she'd married into royalty and didn't have the background to match what her husband's was. Cindy had done the same thing. She married into royalty, and then she got the hell out of there, and never looked back.

Being a princess just wasn't as much fun as everyone said it would be. "I'm still leading that life, Monsieur Courfeyrac." She pushes the remnants of food away, and let her hand slide against his arm before stopping to actually take it, her wineglass in her other hand. "But I wouldn't mind someone else joining me for the ride."

She gave her usual slow smile/smirk, and began to tug his arm so they could get moving. "Let's go see the world."

New kind of victory.

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maybe start wrapping up in the next few comments?

bueno :3

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