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thecapitol2014-02-23 01:25 am
confidentially) wrote in thecapitol2014-02-23 01:25 am
Entry tags:
They've got the stars for the gallant hearts
Who| Jessica & Marius
What| Marius meets his crazy new mentor.
Where| Training facility
When| Some time during Week 6.
Warnings/Notes| Jessica is her own warning label.
She'd let Marius have his week to recover before sending him a note via Avox that read, in ornate and girlish handwriting that his presence was required in the training facility at 8am sharp. No wives allowed. No boyfriends either. It was signed with a simple J, with a postscript which warned him not to be late.
Jessica was allowed to be late, however. It was one of the luxuries of victory. She sashayed into the facility at 8:15, looking fit and stern and ready to get down to business. Unfortunately, she was less impressed by Marius in person than she had been while watching him on TV.
"Oh. You're short." Her disappointment was palpable.
What| Marius meets his crazy new mentor.
Where| Training facility
When| Some time during Week 6.
Warnings/Notes| Jessica is her own warning label.
She'd let Marius have his week to recover before sending him a note via Avox that read, in ornate and girlish handwriting that his presence was required in the training facility at 8am sharp. No wives allowed. No boyfriends either. It was signed with a simple J, with a postscript which warned him not to be late.
Jessica was allowed to be late, however. It was one of the luxuries of victory. She sashayed into the facility at 8:15, looking fit and stern and ready to get down to business. Unfortunately, she was less impressed by Marius in person than she had been while watching him on TV.
"Oh. You're short." Her disappointment was palpable.
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The answers came to him as he was rushing towards the training centre. She must be needing of a training partner, he assumed, although why she asked for him in particular was completely lost on him, especially when he knew no woman who addressed herself as "J."
He soon noticed that his hurrying was unnecessary when the digital clock announced that 8am sharp had drifted past. Still, he was a patient man, albeit easily distracted to the point of heinousness, and he had been staring into the distance (actually at a nearby potted plant, which elicited odd glances from many a tribute and trainer) with a daydream in his eyes when the mysterious "J" finally arrived.
It was only when she spoke to him with tangible disappointment that he straightened with a start and glanced at her, blinking, looking rather perplexed.
"I..." The idea that he was short had never crossed his mind until this moment, and he cast a glance down at himself, feeling as if he was somehow at fault for it. "I am sorry, mademoiselle."
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Still, Jessica took her time to walk around Marius, appraising him while giving her best impression of a well-intentioned mentor. She'd never been especially good at the job. It had always been taxing on her mental state, having to meet people, knowing that they were all going to fail and die because they weren't as intelligent or resourceful as she was. It was a mess and she hated thinking about it. That said, she also despised the new system when it was revealed. At least with homegrown Tributes there was pride and investment in the sacrifice. With foreigners representing the people, there was nothing to cheer over.
Her present thoughts hadn't yet been determined, but thanks to her "reeducation" she knew better than to say anything about it out loud. So here she was, prepped and ready to guide her Tributes to victory. Even Marius. Even sad, doe eyed Marius.
"You look like a deer." Not a deer in headlights, just a deer. "I'm Jessica. I'm your new mentor. Hi."
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Marius blinked, yet again. Should he had been paying attention to the coming and going of tributes, or the broadcast of the Games, or anything beyond the small bubble he had reflexively trapped himself in—a tiny, closed-off world composed of Cosette and his small set of friends originating from both Paris and other lands unknown—he would have known who Kíli was. As he did not, the remark only caused his brows to furrow and his head to tilt to one side, ever so slightly that it was almost inconspicuous.
But his confusion gave way for the mild embarrassment as he stood there while she observed him, trying his hardest not to fidget even when the reddish color began to spread across his freckled cheeks and neck. Finally she spoke, and he pondered on whether that was a compliment or an insult, found no answer, and so dismissed it from his thoughts with a polite, well-practiced bow to his new mentor. "A pleasure, mademoiselle."
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She stalked around him, sizing him up. It wasn't a look of attraction or even really one of keen interest, though she was concerned with his physical capabilities. It was more that she wished to know what she was dealing with and whether or not it would be worth any time to mentor him at all. Some Tributes were lost causes, it was a sad but simple truth. If Marius was such an individual, it would be best to weed him out sooner rather than later, after she'd already invested time and energy into training him to win.
"Please, Marius. Relax. I'm not going to bite you. I'm here to help you." Jessica smiled, to put him at ease. It only served to make her look even more predatory, however.
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He gulped; despite constantly being on parade, watched and judged and ogled at, he never seemed to adapt to any form of attention. He fidgeted, then dared an uncertain glance over his shoulder at Jessica as she circled him.
Marius was gaunt and angular, and whenever eyes set on him, he squirmed and his shoulders slouched, as if he constantly wanted to make himself as small and unassuming in appearance as possible. He turned red so very often it was pathetic, yet it also managed to bring out the freckles in his face. But despite his bashfulness and general awkwardness, there was also a certain pride and gallantry that exuded from him, surfacing every so often like snow-white crests of waves, unknown to even himself.
And there was also something tired in him, and it made him look older than he really was whenever his gaze drifted off to thoughts and memories of both the past arenas and the distant Paris of 1832.
That was currently buried within certain dark corners of his mind, however. Instead, the Marius that stared at Jessica was the startled, wide-eyed, trusting one.
"You will?" He still did not understand why she was even bothering, but he figured that if he could learn something that can help him protect his wife then he should not decline the opportunity. "I-I would appreciate it, if you did."
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Her many months in exile had been difficult for her. She felt out of touch with this new breed of Tributes and she didn't understand why the changes had been made to the format. That said, she felt an obligated to the ungrateful people of her District. She didn't want the people in her home to starve to death, and she was adept enough at the game to assist others in how to play to win. Marius might be awkward and floppy, but he could be shaped into something suitable. Or at the very least, she was hopeful that he could.
"I'm going to train you. I'll teach you everything I know. But first..." Jessica trailed off, nibbling on her lower lip. "I think you should tell me all about yourself. I'd like to know what I'm working with."
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"Oh!" He straightened a little at that. "My name is Marius Pontmercy—that was likely not what you had meant, however..."
He ignored the heat spreading across his cheeks and glanced to one side, racking his brain for an acceptable response and emerging with only one: "Archery seems to have taken a liking to me, I believe?"
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"Archery," she sighed, still not exactly enthused by him. "Archery isn't going to be useful unless you're good enough to attract the attention of the gamemakers. If you're good enough, they'll probably put a bow in the Arena. Otherwise, you're screwed. Please tell me there's something else I can work with. You know, like a hidden talent, or a deeper personality."
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"Oh." He knew not what else to say to her remark; he stood there, dumbly, for a few seconds. He never thought he was particularly talented in anything at all, but clearly there must be something else he needed to add to this conversation, if only for him to meet her expectations.
"I do not understand."
Nailed it.no subject
"Oh-kaaaaaay," she began, gesturing with her hands for emphasis. "I want to knooooow if you have any other skiiiiiills." She paused, struggling to recall something she'd overheard one time. "Um, comprenez-vous?"
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He gave out a small sigh then, glancing to one side and resisting the urge to fidget. "I know how to handle the sabre, and most firearms, although it would seem that they do not appear often, and if they do they differ from what I am familiar with."
He deliberately left the query about personality unanswered.
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The French accent might have butchered that a bit.
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"It's a martial art. Like, um, boxing. Except it's more ancient or something. I don't know exactly, but it would behoove you to look it up sometime."
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"That I will." There was a brief pause; he would read up on it, certainly, but he found it difficult to believe that he was going to be particularly good at it from how troublesome it was to pronounce alone. "Thank you."
He swayed on his feet and stared at the ground, silent once more for several seconds before asking, "Are we to begin our training?"
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His running was nothing noteworthy. He was fast, but not too fast, and nowhere near what could be considered slow. Perhaps the most glaring trait he had was that he slouched, but then again he did often slouch.
He also would not stop until she ordered him to, so there was that.
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"Your posture is awful. Aren't you old people supposed to know how to stand up straight?" Her voice was like a dog's bark, sharp and yappy. "Stop. Just stop. I can't with this right now."
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After his breathing had evened, he wiped his arm across his brow and approached her. He blinked, once, waiting for further instructions in a manner reminiscent an eager dog.
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Marius gulped and fidgeted under her gaze, but he was still far too polite to comment on how uneasy it made him. So instead, he focused on another dilemma, which was the definition of 'orthodontist.' Breaking it into base words gave him 'straight' and 'tooth,' but that only served to confuse him all the more.
His forehead creased. "I beg your pardon?"
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