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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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"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.

Joly, for his part,did not quite see a problem, even if it appeared, somewhat, that Enjolras was having something of one in the moment. Then again, who knew what may have passed there. Felicity herself seemed to have little love for Enjolras at that.

"Ah that does give me a sense of timing to place that in." He mused, shuddering a little, considering the return from the arena. "I can imagine well, what sort of a state that must have been."

"I suppose we all can." It wasn't a lack of sympathy for her condition, but rather the way in which she had expressed it. In a certain sense, Felicity reminded him of Eponine. Brave, but lacking in proper judgment, and bold, but with a sort of entitlement that reduced its usefulness. "We are granted a unique perspective on death, here, the lot of us. I don't suppose it is something anyone was ever truly intended to know."

There were existential questions raised by the act of dying and being revived every few weeks. One could spend ages mulling them over, if he were only to let himself. However, in Enjolras' opinion, their true problems lay less in the metaphysical dilemmas of life and death, and far more in their perpetual civil death as essential slaves of an a tyrannical government. "Nevertheless, it is good to know that you are making the rounds, my friend. The more you are known to these people, the easier a time you will have within the Arena."

"Oh certainly so. The first especially, for myself at least, has induced, well, a few different things. " Joly had, personally, sulked around a bit at first, not so much because of his fate, but from an unwillingness to deal with more of it. He did not think Enjolras unsympathetic so much as he might have missed something perhaps, or that Felicity in that moment, might have been a bit crazy as well. If anything could make one such, it was this place.

There were indeed. At which point, if any, did this become real? Was there a return to Paris to ever consider, and what would they do then, prepared as they would have become to fight harder? It was almost an opportunity if they managed to see home again and...

Thinking like this was so odd that one could not do it for so long, truly. At which point did a man lose himself? Well, something to think of another time, perhaps when all were gathered together again. Not that it mattered, so much, he supposed, but it was interesting all the same.

"So I have heard. Well, I can certainly use that."

Enjolras, at least, knew the broad strokes of their fate and the aftermath of their lives. He knew that their rebellion had a name, and that it was remember by history not fondly, but with a sort of disappointed inevitability. Their efforts were the precursor to revolution, but not the thing in itself. A precipitous event, the culmination of a kind would result in something, but never amount to much on its own.

Because of that, he couldn't really consider returning to Paris, even if the option were available to him. It would require a redressing of his beliefs almost more than Panem did already. And moreover, what was the point of returning to an earlier point in history if, presumably, it all amounted to this anyway? They could build their republic in the 19th Century, only to have it demolished in the 21st by something even worse. Correcting the past to ensure the future was a nice idea, but testing its practicality seemed to great a risk.

He sighed heavily, pushing all of that away for now. It wasn't productive to dwell on what could and couldn't be accomplished in the abstract sense, even if he would have liked to. Better to focus on the here and now, better to understand the present and how it could be used to keep them alive to see the future he always seemed to anticipate so eagerly.

"You did well for a first attempt. Better, I should say, than I managed." Joly also had the benefit of allies who weren't twelve year olds, invalids, or both, but that was beside the point. "There is a peculiar sort of strategy involved in these things. I do wonder how entertaining it was for them to watch children fight when adults struggle to manage even given several opportunities."

Such a knowledge as that would have been hard hitting indeed, and it would, likely, have tested Joly's consideration of whether he went or stayed, should he have the choice as well. If they could truly be of no more solid good in Paris, then why not attempt to do it here? The idea of staying then, would have been reasonable.

As it was, unknowing as he remained, Joly had the thought that, perhaps things might be different, indeed. They might come back, even with more powerful tools to be used, or new skills to inspire at least another July Revolution in terms of scale, if not success. As time went on, of course, that may well change.

"My first attempt consisted of attempting to claw the tracking device out of my skin, clinging to Venus during a storm, attempting not to slap Marius and being menaced by a demented lobster who then attempted to put me back together, though he was obviously, not much of a sturgeon. I can hardly think that I might have done worse."

This was accompanied with a little grin, sheepish though it was. "I must do more next time, to make myself valuable." He'd certainly felt that the first time after all, and while he had been unprepared, now that he had time to handle things in a better way, he did intend to do that.

At least they took the place of those children, he thought, finding the idea of that to be much worse than the idea of themselves here, somehow, though that point was true.

"It hardly seems as though it would be entertaining at that, no. There is spectacle, which is not so bad in and of itself, provided it is spectacle for the right reasons, and there is..." He did not finish, shaking his head. "Well. I think that we do provide a stronger one." He decided on, with a glance around, to be sure that was not all overheard.

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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!