thecapitol | (no subject)

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Who| Enjolras, Joly, Others!
What| Reactions to a certain conversation between Venus and Courfeyrac in the arena.
Where| at a public viewing
When| Week 5, I do believe
Warnings/Notes| I don't think there are any yet!

Thus far, Joly's first of the public viewing parties as the guest of Enjolras had been...interesting...if he had to pick a polite word to toss at the cameras, the viewers, and anyone else who dared to ask him in public about his impressions of the entire thing. If asked privately, he would have had quite a different thing to say, but such thoughts were a luxury that he could not afford, even as the spectacle of death treated so callously made him want to be sick.

Enjolras's advice during the dream scenario they'd shared had served as a reminder though, and he had played his part well enough thus far, having decided, for the cameras, on an image to sell himself with (playing up the cadence of his mother's speech, dropping puns more frequently than at home, fussing with his clothing more than strictly necessary), which so far seemed to be working well enough, and was managing, with the help of a decent amount of alcohol, to get through everything so far. That was until Venus's mention of Enjolras as her Prince Charming,which set him to snort, which he quickly turned into a giggle, let them think he was a bit of an idiot if they wanted, and then Courfeyrac's question, which was enough to silence him as he glanced toward Enjolras, leaning forward a little, frankly rather curious as to what his friend was liable to do now.

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There were any number of things he could say to that. Another denial, a rebuttal against Joly's assumptions, and the assumptions being made, fostered by the narrative playing itself out in front of them. But no, none of that was half so interesting as the implicit question. Where and when were the appropriate places and times to discuss things they didn't want the Capitol peaking in on. A viewing party certainly not, unless they developed some code more complex and incomprehensible than winks and nods, and playful, boyish shoves. But then where? The café, perhaps, or the one landmark on the road leading to it. There, he was reasonably confident they could be unobserved, but unrecorded was another matter altogether.

He pushed the thoughts --plans really, they were becoming salient enough again to merit the term plans-- out of his head for the moment in order to more fully commit to their charade. As appealing as such a discussion was, as much as he longed for the actual progress which it could lead to, duplicity was what was needed here. To behave otherwise would be to risk becoming a hypocrite and while he was becoming comfortable as a great many unpleasant things, a hypocrite Enjolras would never be.

"I have taken no offense, my friend, and I dare say neither would she. I will thank you, however, if you do not try my luck upon her return." He offered a small smile, blush still clearly visible as he lifted his eyes again. If he was performing correctly, any curious spectators would dismiss the admonishment as him not wishing to risk Venus' ire for discussing her personal life. A futile gesture, but one befitting the genteel and slightly old fashioned reputation he had established within the Capitol. "There are places we should attend, and when Courfeyrac returns from embarrassing me, we will invite him along as well. He can treat the two of us as penance."

Indeed not here for any specifics yet. If Joly could find a way to make that happen, he might have argued for the prospect of being present in a large group of people making them and their discussions seem more innocent, but the watching cameras, like in the arena, blasted that idea of safety far away. For now, he had dared enough on the subject itself, so it was as well to keep himself in the character he was working on creating instead.

Their plans, and yes, he would have agreed with Enjolras that they were plans, could use some finalization, he had doctors, and others here, to get to know, the others had to return so that they might all speak and get to work, but that it was definitely going to happen was a given to him. As God had corrected one problem of nature with the cat, perhaps the group of them had been sent here to create another sort of cat entirely. Metaphorical though it was, but carrying with it what they needed most. Duplicity indeed, and he had pushed the bounds of it himself so far, so back to the other 'topic' at hand, he thought, letting his grin spread.

"Ah, I do see how that COULD create some problem, should she find a way to hear of this. Ladies, after all. One hopes that Courfeyrac will not manage to try it either, before his return. And yes, somehow that does seem fair. After all, there are so many both of you must show me."

"I may not recover so well if she decides to sic her Roman friend upon me again." In a strange way, it hurt to be using Venus in this way. She had done the same to him any number of times, invoking his name when it was convenient or would make for an interesting plot twist. She was simply better at compartmentalizing all of it, of taking the utilitarian aspect of personal relationships in stride. It wasn't something everyone, not even everyone among the people in Panem, were capable of. Again, he forced himself out of the such reflection. Insomnia would see to it that he had plenty of time for such examinations later. "You should meet him as well."

He needed to take a census, assemble a list, preferably mental, as physical evidence could undoubtedly be used against them, of everyone on whom they could rely. Such a task would not be easy, and would require even more deception, even more questions veiled beneath other questions. More than that, however, it would require common cause, and faith that any answers he received could be trusted at all. Faith was becoming a challenge for him of late.

"I'll invite Maximus to dinner with the three of us," Enjolras nodded to Joly, then to the ghostly blue image of Courfeyrac, distorted by the projection screen and the dust of the Arena around him. "Provided he doesn't still wish to kill me, of course. He is very honorable, I assure you. A true Centurion of the Roman Republic who fought alongside Marcus Aurelius. He is simply too overprotective of Venus, though I can hardly blame him."

"A Roman friend, you say?" Oh this was interesting. It was a chance, outside of medicine to actually practice Latin, perhaps, in order that he might use it with Marius, if needed. And more importantly, Rome's Republic itself. "And he has been tossed at you on occasions?" He had to laugh at the thought of that somehow, Enjolras facing down such a man.

"I would quite like to meet him. If it comes to it, I have always wondered a few things about Rome that I would quite like to ask. Do you suppose a citizen of Rome might disappear without Thrace? I've often wondered."

Joly would assist of course, where-ever needed in that census, or in anything. If Enjolras lacked faith, then the rest of them who could would need to work to supply it until the other's could be boosted. It was the sort of thing that only stood to reason here, after all... Wait just a moment.

"Misunderstandings with Roman Centurion that have resulted in his wishing for your blood? What DID you manage to get up to that you have galled him so?"

Gauled. Of course. Joly's penchant for punning was still surprisingly well intact even after his unseemly demise. Perhaps he'd over estimated his friend's sensitivity, or the need for a respectful recovery. Or perhaps it was simply his way of dealing with their unpleasant surroundings. Either way, it left Enjolras inhaling sharply, eyebrows raising derisively in response. Contrary to the popularly held perception of him in the Capitol, he wasn't humorless. Rather, he felt a certain keen fondness for the humor common to his friends even if it was beyond his usual capacity to join in it. As such, he could easily play the straight man, less the butt of jokes and more their facilitator. This towed the line, however, even if he had brought it up. Oh well, better Jolllly than Courfeyrac. At least he could be assured that that the man's tongue was firmly in his cheek, and that there was no cattiness looming behind the remarks.

"Venus and I have a complicated regard for one another," Which was also towing dangerously close to the line he'd wanted to keep. Still, if it distracted Joly from whatever Courfeyrac was sputtering about in the Arena and whatever Venus would feel compelled to say under pressure, it was probably better. With any luck, Enjolras' seemingly flippant explanations to his friend would end up the bigger story of the evening and he wouldn't have to deal with much of an aftermath at all. "Maximus regards all of us as gladiators, and I can understand such logic. He believes that I have treated her unfairly, and perhaps I have, but he views this not in terms of a man and a woman, but rather in terms of two warriors who should regard each other with honor and dignity."

He snorted slightly, the noise accompanied by a slightly rueful smile, an altogether self-effacing gesture. Maximus had been right about certain things, even if he had completely misinterpreted others. "She killed me once in the Arena, and I ignored her for a very long time because of it. I felt betrayed and she felt as if she had done me a favor. Maximus, understanding exactly none of this, decided to intervene and I lashed out at him. It was all very dramatic, and I only made it worse by implying that if his lover were around, he would probably be keeping his nose out of my personal life." He offered a furtive glance back to the screen, as if to assess the damage done. They still appeared to be talking, although with markedly less enthusiasm. "Which I maintain is less spectacularly interesting than the magazines and evening broadcasts might indicate. I wonder what they shall do with themselves when Courfeyrac has more than a day in the Capitol. I look forward to no longer being news."

Honestly? It was far easier for Joly to push himself a little, to shove the doubts that arose when he let himself consider them far into the back of his mind. In truth, it was a tactic he'd employed at home, often enough. While he was with an actual patient, he could manage to stave off panic, focusing only in the moment, but when it came to working on cadavers, or the like, or facing the idea of having picked up an illness itself or when he was simply terrified, he did revert to humor, and to puns, finding them enough distraction, usually, that he could manage to carry on in what it was.

But, no, for Joly, there was no ill intention behind the joke, and he fell silent, nodding at Enjolras's answer.

"We are gladiators of a sort at that." Joly agreed, nodding. And really, the thing was almost completely true. Conscripted as they were. He could certainly see the reasoning behind that sort of explanation, though he doubted that it was a comfort to one who had come from such a life as that to be launched into another one.

Not to regard Venus as a woman though? It seemed to Joly like the sort of technique that would prove badly for everyone in the end. While it was certainly true that gender had played very little of a role in the arena, and that women had the right to be seen as equals, entirely discounting a woman's femininity was a dangerous one to make. It was confusing, certainly, and not something to ask Enjolras about, surely.

"I can see why one might avoid a person who killed them." He begin, a million inappropriate comments about la petite mort rushing through his mind, though he ignored them in the face of this, more serious tone. "I admittedly do not have plans to spend much quality time, if any, with my own. As matters of interpretations go, it seems straightforward enough. Though..." His nose crinkled a little at the next bit.

"I can think of fewer things that put a man into a better or more distracted mood than his lover's presence, that IS true. And all right, not so interesting as all of that. I was expecting greater scandal somehow. I suppose that IS best left to Courfeyrac, or is that worst?"

If there were jokes to be made about the irony of a romantic entanglement with your murderer, Enjolras was hardly the person to pick up on them. Instead, he hummed approvingly at the change of subject. They poke some fun at Courfeyrac's expense for the moment.

"Better for us, worse for them. It's a good thing he makes a point to a of married women, I suppose." Other men he knew had been slightly less upright in their womanizing. Courfeyrac had insisted on a certain decorum, a certain Romance to his romances and while Enjolras had never seem them as truly meritorious of his friend's time, he had to admire at least his intention. "Though that didn't keep him from charming Madame Pontmercy, when her husband was not looking."

The kiss had been innocent enough. As a point of fact, Cosette was a loving enough person to have kissed each of her husband's friends in the same way, but it made for an excellent story. If Joly were to be the affable socialite, and Enjolras the brooding scholar, perhaps Courfeyrac could play the Casanova in the eyes of the media. It would round out the appeal of their collective quite well. And Marius, Marius would soon be useful in other ways.

"You learn which of their lies to accept and which to push against. Sometimes you cannot push against them at all and so you learn to push around instead." He blinked in surprise at the peculiar timing of that particular thought. However many months ago, he had expressed similar sentiments to Venus moments before she's snapped his neck. "You can convince people of very little and persuade them of less when their minds have already been made up. Often their perceptions of you will hold more weight than anything that you say."

Indeed not. It was the sort of thing Joly might toss out at, well, anyone else, but for Enjolras's sake, he was content enough to remain silent, and be amused at the joke in his mind on his own time. It was not a place to fall all over oneself giggling at innuendos besides. There WAS a place for it; he was fairly certain, but for the moment, he had yet to find that, so instead, the gossip of Courfeyrac did fairly well to serve instead.

"Madame Pontmercy indeed?" He smirked a little, in spite of himself. "Well,if any were the reason that he broke such priorities, I can understand her presence being responsible. By all accounts, she seems remarkable enough to create a Launcelot out of a Galahad."

It was exciting, certainly, and Joly leaned forward a little, eager for more detail at that. "There seems to be some greater story than just charming, yes? I think you'd better share whatever news you know, right here and now, before poor Marius may hear of it." Oh certainly the socialite, and eager, ever so eager to hear more, and perhaps help Courfeyrac's reputation along here. What were friends for, after all?

"Well then. It seems I must devote myself to further study of that matter. As far as perceptions go, I think that I might work with them. They had their use in Paris, after all."

Edited 2014-03-10 23:21 (UTC)

"You are doing well." What could be construed as praise was, to Enjolras and typically when spoken by him, merely a statement of fact. Joly had adapted well, was continuing to adapt well. So much the better for all of them.

"And as for Madame Pontmercy and her supposed Lancelot, she is quite charming, but I trust Courfeyrac not to betray his sense of propriety and certainly not when her husband is concerned." Conspiratorially, he leaned closer to Joly, so much so that their foreheads nearly touched. Despite the proximity, however, he kept his voice loud enough to be heard, not ostentatiously, but still well above the dull roar of the party around them. "It would be a terrible thing to do to Marius. Worse still because of his debt to Courfeyrac. It is unthinkable and I refuse to accept the legitimacy of such speculations, no matter how things might appear."

That should give the tabloids fuel for a few days. The seeds of deceit firmly planted, he backed away, allowing Joly his personal space again. They had to appear to be as genuinely secretive as possible and, despite Enjolras' normal aversion to overt physical displays of the kind, there was no doubt that they sent a powerful message. "Courfeyrac will find another young woman to charm away quickly enough. Of that I am sure."

Perhaps if he were paying more attention to the screen, he might have caught the irony of the sentiment. It seemed a realistic belief, if nothing else, the evidence clearly illustrated through the lull of Venus' head onto Courfeyrac's shoulder.

The words were quite enough and Joly smiled slightly at them anyway. It was acknowledged, and that was what mattered most. He had been putting forth the effort to survive, that he might jump into things and work towards aiding the others in their ultimate goal, and that mattered more to him than anything effusive or overly specific. He could certainly work with that for now.

"Ah, well then." He agreed, nodding intently. "Our paladin, at least our knight errant at that, remains." He winked, then bent his head to meet Enjolras, nodding at his words. "Our Courfeyrac would never, no." he agreed matching the tone of the other, "And I do doubt the lady would at that."

This whole thing, if they painted it in such a way as to cast gossip onto Courfeyrac, must be construed entirely as his affair. "But appearances, you say? Oh dear, those sound incriminating. I do hope that is able to resolve itself before someone is hurt then."

Then he was following suit, and glancing at the screen again, with Venus resting there on Courfeyrac, and trying not to laugh at what Enjolras had just said. It played into the words incredibly well, as if he had actually timed it. "Yes, I suspect our Courfeyrac shall be just fine." he chose to say instead, glad really, that they were, however unwittingly, playing into their hands like this.

It was the barely contained amusement creeping onto Joly's face that tipped him off. Less angrily than curiously, Enjolras turned to regard the screen with a certain cool disdain. Immediately, he felt a certain sense of irritation and did nothing to hide the emotion from reading across his features. In the first place, he didn't know if he'd have been capable of it anyway. In the second, any betrayal he felt, however slight and even expected, could only serve to improve the complex if tawdry narrative they were weaving

He looked away again, allowing the drama of the moment to run its course without interruption. Someone would be watching this, someone would be taking note of his reaction.

"Knight errant, indeed. How quickly he finds another young woman to protect." What had been a vague sense of approval, or less generously, acquiescence, was now very clearly the beginnings of a stoically restrained anger. "I suppose I brought this upon myself."

Joly frowned to watch that change in Enjolras as the scene shifted, noting Courfeyrac's groans seemed to bring that towards, well, something of a head, so far as he knew. Certainly, it was suggestive indeed, and toward Venus of all people, which, even given that Enjolras had protested anything between the two of them seemed to Joly to be something of a violation.

One simply did not sweep in and do that sort of thing to a friend, no matter that he had technically done that towards Bossuet before their own arrangement came about. Perhaps because he HAD done that and found it ended atypically, he had some stronger feelings toward others who sought it and his expression shifted to concern for Enjolras as things went on there even further.

"How might you have managed that?" He asked, certain the narrative had never been played out to include Courfeyrac before somehow. It did not somehow seem any of their styles at that.

He watched the display with an objectively clinical sort of disdain. Clearly, it was an act on Venus' part, a play for the sponsors since she couldn't trust him to do his part. It was a valid concern. After all, Enjolras had protested any involvement in the process at all.

"I introduced them." There was a strange hoarseness to his voice, a tightening of his throat which he felt keenly with every pseudo-erotic sound emanating from the speakers. "I suggested that they look for each other within the Arena. She is a very good fighter, you know, and I was worried for how Courfeyrac might cope Perhaps my concern was poorly placed."

It wasn't, he realized, it was just a vague bitterness that bore into him. Stiffly, Enjolras tugged at the cuffs off his sleeve, ill-prepared for what would com next from the screen. You are plenty bewitching, Venus. You have bewitched every one of us. But I was referring to Mademoiselle Cindy.

He started. "Joly, did you catch that?"

Joly followed as well, attempting to discern if there was something else behind that disdain, something that he must worry about just now. He found himself wondering too; particularly as he had met the pair of Courfeyrac and Venus in the arena together, actually. Courfeyrac would make, he thought, a much easier prospect in the way of the romantic entanglement that Venus seemed to wish to project, for the reasons they had just discussed, so there was that to think of.

"Ah..." he nodded at Enjolras, frowning in sympathy, as he considered what he might say. "It seemed to me before that they were more like friends, when they met and aided me at first. She IS at that. You were doing what you thought was..." He started, then paused at the next bit that Courfeyrac had cause to mention, and found himself smiling a little, glad for Enjolras, in spite of that he claimed there was nothing besides friendship going on there.

"Bewitching, she certainly is." he agreed, keeping his tones light enough that Enjolras would not think he had some designs himself. "But Courfeyrac is entranced by another, so not so badly placed at that, my friend. I'm glad of that. It hardly seems that an arrangement such as mine at home could work in this scenario." Whoever's scenario it did turn out to be.

Were he less preoccupied, Enjolras might have taken the bait to inquire after Joly's handling of life without his two companions. As it was, however, he felt the, by now quite familiar, sensation of a lump rising in his throat. While he was ill-prepared to assess directly his investment in Courfeyrac's behavior toward Venus, he knew quite well how he felt about he man's apparent interest in Cinderella.

"I brought this upon myself as well. Oh, damn it all." Had he a drink, he would have dramatically taken a swig in irritation, as it was, he allowed the emotion to read clearly on his features. This accompanied a fist clenched tightly, his pale skin contrasting sharply with the lush color of the upholstery beneath it.

"Cinderella and I have something of a business arrangement. I would rather Courfeyrac did nothing to interfere with that." He spoke in English, rather than French. If this was to work properly, there could be no room for a misinterpretation. The fact that it wasn't a direct lie helped, certainly. He refused to lie to Joly, but the details of the case could always be manipulated. "Though I should have expected this. She is a competent ally and they share a District. I told him to seek her out, I just never imagined this. And I should have, honestly. How else does Courfeyrac ever relate to an attractive woman?"

Better, actually, than with them. Joly would have been more of a nervous wreck, even here, if there HAD been Bossuet and Musichetta to worry for. As it was, with only himself? Well, so much as the prospect of contracting something foreign was a terror to him, at least he knew that it was better that he not have them to worry for as well. And look at what relationships had seemed to bring both Enjolras and Courfeyrac so far, and how Marius had been compromised by his Cosette's being here, on top of that.

Just look at Enjolras now, he thought, frowning at his leader's expression there. It seemed to be getting worse, and not better as things went on. Joly would have expected...

Oh. Well then.

"You suspect that Courfeyrac could not manage to keep the two of them apart?" He asked, privately thinking Enjolras a bit unfair in the assessment. "I think you underestimate our Courfeyrac a little if you think that he should let it interfere."

"No, I imagine that Courfeyrac will make every attempt and then dismiss Cinderella when he feels done with her." It was snappish and perhaps slightly immature. He was being unkind, he realized. Courfeyrac had never handled a woman badly, but then he had never had reason to handle a woman like Cinderella before either. While Enjolras purposefully kept his head out of his friends' romantic entanglements, Courfeyrac's were somewhat legendary in their group. In truth, he worried less for Cinderella and more for her admirer, and above the two of them, he worried for what it might mean for their carefully laid plans.

The frown transformed itself into a scowl as he watched the screen. This would have gone much better if Courfeyrac had simply allowed himself to die early on. There was nothing to be accomplished in the Arena and everything to be done outside of it. He sighed heavily.

"Regardless of whatever affections he might have, he cannot handle a woman like Cinderella. She is not some wretched grisette he can ignore once he has grown bored, and moreover, she is not someone whom I will tolerate ignoring."

Joly managed, by sheer force of that snap, to avoid raising an eyebrow right in Enjolras's face. It was the stress of this, he told himself. Certainly, Courfeyrac's reputation pointed toward doing such, but unless his heart had greatly changed, he doubted such a thing might come to pass.

That a woman like Cinderella might grow sick of Courfeyrac's considerable...Courfeyracian charms seemed a bit more likely to him, but, of course, not having met her, all that Joly could do was sigh a little. He did see where that would become a distraction, when it came to all that they hoped to accomplish but it had never been too much of one at home, for any of them. He was more inclined to look towards that basis of the past, even as he admitted Enjolras knew much more of the situation.

"Courfeyrac not handle a woman? Oh she seems singular indeed." And he could understand precisely, then, why that sort of woman would become one Courfeyrac would wish to HAVE above all others. "There IS something of the forbidden that can prove to be tempting, I suppose. I can see his attractions from that point alone. But need it truly grow to that point of things? Perhaps the mademoiselle herself will decide that she is not interested herself. There are quite a few possibilities at hand. I think you jump toward the worst of them, if I might say it as someone who has not been here long enough to know her."

That was a gamble, but a worthy one, at least. Ever so slightly, the tension in Enjolras' shoulders eased, and he relaxed against his seat. Joly as entirely correct. He was jumping to conclusions. Cinderella would entertain Courfeyrac, probably, when it was convenient for the cameras, but that would like the be the extent of their involvement. She had better things with which to occupy her time.

"I apologize, my friend. You are correct, of course." He pulled at the cuffs of his jacket, abruptly self-conscious and trying to justify his opinions to himself. It wasn't the clouded confusion he associated with Venus, of course, and it was still most definitely an irritation, but it held and element of dread as well. For every benefit his comrades brought, there was also a bit of uncertainty. After all, Enjolras could advise Courfeyrac and Joly on the intricacies of the Capitol and expect them to heed his words more so than Marius ever would, but they were their own men. He couldn't expect complete obedience nor would he even want it if it were offered. There was an element of unpredictability that he had only before considered and never had to truly face.

"Do not think too ill of me. I worry for them both, as well as for myself. If we are to make any progress at all here, Cinderella will be necessary to it. I know that much, and I am sorry if my inability to say more here makes me seem unkind."

Ah good. Whatever had taken hold of Enjolras was lessening, at least. Joly was not entirely certain that he had known how best to help, other than by saying what he had, so he was glad the words had seemed to have some effect. While he worried for the others too, it was a different sort of worry than the one that Enjolas had expressed to him. He trusted that Courfeyrac knew what to do with himself, and worried more that he might harm himself in carrying out some act of chivalry. Not that he would blame his friend for it, or attempt to do differently in the position, but it seemed Courfeyrac would be especially prone to it.

"You need not apologize, Enjolras." he answered, and he meant that. "I do see that you have our interests at heart in this, of course. It certainly is easy enough to see that that is your main concern in this.' He simply thought that it was not the only one, and that another part of it was slightly petty smaller concerns, though he'd never say such a thing.

"I could never think ill of you, though perhaps your approach could use a bit more...softening perhaps. The Courfeyrac I knew in Paris knew what he was doing too, and unless things have greatly changed, you may need to give him more trust. Even here, I would venture he can handle that."

"You think I need soften still, he thinks that I have become too soft." He smiled mirthlessly. The irony of Courfeyrac, of all people, declaring him too soft wasn't something that would easily escape him. Combeferre had been the one to argue for temperance, but it was their centre who had always extolled the benefits of kindness when it could be afforded.

But it wasn't fair to remark on such things now. Panem changed people, the Games changed people. For all any of them knew, Marius would someday be the one out for the blood of their captors, with Joly as his right hand and Enjolras himself trailing behind preaching clemency. It was a dreadful thought.

He turned his attention back to the screen, trying to think quickly of a way in which his plans could work with this new development. Gears danced behind grey blue eyes, and in an instant, he seemed to look older, the stress of it all suddenly weighing on him. Cinderella should involve herself with Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac should be the one to write their documents. No one knew his style and it would make it more difficult to trace back to them. It would also give Enjolras more freedom to express himself openly. It was logical, he couldn't argue with logic. There was only one path to be taken, even if it made him nervous.

"What do you suppose will be said of them?" He asked with a false nonchalance. Joly could start this before either of them were even back. With luck, it might even help them in the Arena.

"Courfeyrac, of all people has said something alike to that?" Joly's mouth dropped a little, for an instance, as he gaped at Enjolras. "I would not say you are too soft, my friend. This is a different world, and one needs adapt, as any being would. Courfeyrac of all of us suggesting that would point to Panem being odd indeed. He's been here longer than I have, yes, but even so. I do not see that you are too soft, or that you need soften too much entirely. Open your mind a little more, perhaps, if I were offering advice, but that is no different from what I had thought may help at home."

Perhaps it was not fair at that, to speak of what had been, instead of what might be, and speaking of home might easily become too painful if they dwelled too much on it, so Joly took the silence for what it was, studying Enjolras's face, rather than the screen in that moment. He did look old, and over-tired and he wished that he might prescribe rest and have Enjolras listen to him now, though he doubted that would happen with the games still on. Joly himself did not want to get much of it himself, now knowing he was safe for the time being.

"Hmm?" He asked, his friend's voice pulling him back to the moment. "Ah the pair of them? I do not know the lady well, or at all beyond what I've seen, but they certainly would look well together, on the town. If they appear at any tribute events, they'll certainly catch someone's attentions."

"Good." He said resolutely, appearing to have made up his mind about something or another. In actuality, the gears were still twisting themselves, still trying to look for the best opportunity, the best way to play all of this. For the first time in over nine months he had trustworthy, viable allies. The opportunity couldn't be waisted, but then again, time was also of the essence. If they sensed something was afoot, the Capitol could easily take his friends from him, or simply fail to return them from the Arena. If something were to be done, and it had to be done, it would need to be done carefully.

Enjolras looked to Joly, studying his friend in the low light of the party. The image of flighty socialite suited him well enough, in spite of it all. Perhaps there was more to be done with that, perhaps they hadn't worked it to the greatest of its potential. "And what of you? Have you been making friends here? If so I would have you tell me of them."

Behind them the images of their allies danced, projected on the screen by dozens of tiny lights Enjolras would never pretend to understand. What mattered is that they needed to protect them. And when the were all together again, and could afford the indulgence, they would plan.

Hmm? Enjolras had lost Joly somewhere with the declaration, and he was not quite certain what was final for the moment. Was anything? It seemed as though it meant more than just a sense of satisfaction with Joly's answer, but this did not, entirely, feel like a time to ask for clarification. Too much could go wrong.

"Some of them, even tonight." He pointed out, a little smile crossing his face. "Fee...Mademoiselle Felicity is particularly singular, I must say. And she seems to loathe this much as we do. Among others, well, I've tried to meet a few. The longer I am here, the easier that shall become."

Felicity's name caught him a bit of guard. Of course, with her curious intensity it would only be natural that she should gravitate herself toward Joly. The logic of it did nothing to ease his mind.

"Singular sums her up rather well. Mademoiselle Worthington and I are acquainted, though not particularly well. I am--" He paused, searching for a suitably benign word that would aptly describe the profound indifference, colored by a hazy unease that felt toward her. "Unsurprised to hear that she has improved in spirits from our last meeting."

After all, she'd been pretty terribly off. Death didn't do much for anyone's mood, but she had taken it to a fascinating level of melodrama.

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Oh my god I'm so sorry. I just keep doing this to you.

Finally getting back to YOU!

Yeah see but you're way more timely than me on the reg.

Except the times Joly goes quiet on me

welp sometimes I get too sick to tag so /kanyeshrug

<3!