thecapitol | (no subject)

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(no subject)

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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Ah, that pointed more towards either the first or the last possibility, Joly decided, ruling the middle one out then. Not that it was inconceivable a gentleman would take to being managed in the stead of managing himself, but somehow, he could not see this mademoiselle quite falling for that sort of arrangement after a statement like that.

And he did not somehow suspect that she was one to aim for a religious life or anything close to that so, well. It was too soon to mention anything of his own personal life to her, he suspected, or to further press for detail, so he did neither, and nodded instead.

"Then I pity the person who attempts it, truly."

"Then you are a wise fellow indeed." That nagging feeling in her gut which shouted aloud that she had given herself away would not be silenced. However, she was ignoring it quite ably, pressing Joly for more succulent gossip. "Now that we've established that I am off limits, I should like to know who has been at the mercy of your friend, Monsieur Courfeyrac."

The gossip at this stage was far more interesting to Joly than Felicity's romantic endeavors as it was, so he was only glad to cast the thought aside now with the conversation. He simply made a mental note to not bring up the subject of young men with amorous interests in her, he thought, and that should settle things no matter what the case was.

"Ah well, as Enjolras has just been mentioning, there are a slew of them. I have NOT had names however, but then, I have not been here quite long enough to observe him in this environment. However, if it is anything like in Paris..."

"He had quite the reputation in Paris." She paused, then quickly amended, "Or so I am to presume?" She did not wish to raise any alarms, as she had already done with Enjolras. As amusing as it had been to tease his companion, Monsieur Joly actually seemed to be a kind hearted gentleman. Even Fee was reluctant to bring up his precarious state of being.

"Presume? My dear Fee," Joly grinned at that. "You need not be polite about such things if word of them have reached you here already. Courfeyrac is a big lad, and I am certain his reputation here can handle that gossip. Absolutely true." he added, a grin spreading across his face.

Easy opportunities to talk about his friends worked wonders after all, and he certainly assumed, from what Enjolras had mentioned that the rumors of Courfeyrac, both here, and at home, must be becoming stuff of legend.

Fee found herself chuckling, adjusting her stance so that she stood straight and tall, looking quite entertained in her suit. "You must forgive me. I might not look it, but I am the product of an English finishing school. In spite of my efforts to shake free of my manners, they do make an appearance on occasion."

"Ah that WOULD be something of the problem there." Joly agreed, his eyes sparkling mischievously at her. "We did things a bit differently in my school of course, which did lend us toward some wildness of thought and action. And perhaps a little too much freedom of the tongue."

"That all sounds rather liberal," she said with a smirk. Her imagination was running wild. "I should very much preferred that education to the one we received at Spence."

"Ah it was at that." Good. Her imagination was intended to, and it really would not be SO far from the truth. Most of the brothers teaching them had been too old to bother with policing much and school had been an education in more ways than simply one.

"All in all, rather enjoyable. A pity to hear yours was not so much."

Felicity's expression faltered slightly. "Ah, well. What else can one expect from a school for young ladies?"

"And English at that." Joly agreed, brightly enough. "I mean no offense to your people of course, but our reputations, nationally, ARE quite different at that."

"None taken," the girl replied, though her reaction was not easy to read. "You might be shocked to learn it, monsieur, but had every intention of living in Paris before I was abducted to Panem. Instead of emigrating to France, I was forced to come here."

"Had you indeed? You, my dear mademoiselle, are certainly a lady of taste, as well as elegance." Joly grinned at that. "There IS nothing like Paris, truly. Something tells me you would have fit well there."

Her face had a dreamy glow when she spoke of Paris. "My mother hosts a salon, frequented by the most fashionable artists and intellectuals. She prefers the upperclasses. I would have gone to live in a garret to be the muse of some Bohemian or other. I would have painted and written poetry. I would have cut my hair."

Her eyes went dim then. "Instead, I am here."

"Cut your hair?" Joly asked her, considering Felicity for a moment, and squinting a bit. "Somehow, yes, I think that that would suit. And the garret. Ah, by far the most romantic place in Paris I might think of, despite what others might say."

She would, he thought, have done quite well in Paris, certainly. But instead.

"And I would have been a doctor, in another life, accompanied by those I cared for, simple, but happy. Instead, well. Here I am as well. It can be a hard thing."

"I wish to be liberated. I can't stand the idea of being confined by hair or corsets or dresses." Thus the trousers she wore proudly. She'd been ready to give up dresses ages ago but she'd never had that freedom in England. In Paris, she could reinvent herself. She could have been anybody.

"You would have made an excellent doctor, Monsieur." Strange that she'd never felt any sort of attachment to him when she'd read the novel. And yet, meeting him in person and finding him fleshed out, she found him both sympathetic and admirable. "And you shall be a better one here, I suspect."

"Well, fair enough." Joly notes, nodding. There is something,after all about women in trousers that smacks of a freedom that is intriguing, because it is still so much of a novelty to him. And seeing women in pants here has not yet made that seem commonplace yet. As far as her other reasons, well, he is nodding.

"Romantic." he comments, with a huge grin. "I've a friend who would have doubtlessly approved of such. And really, why should one not embrace those things that make them free? Quite good enough."

As far as being a doctor, well.

"I do hope to learn more now that I am here. Perhaps I can succeed, in time."

"A friend?" She asked him, obviously curious. "I should like to hear about this friend of yours sometime."

"Ah yes. Prouvaire was a poet, and well, they've certainly got the reputation for reason." Joly muses, a smile crossing his face as he thinks of Jehan now. "And was one of the bravest of us all, in the end."

"There are worse men to be compared to. I should like to be recalled for my bravery." She chose not to say anything about Prouvaire being poorly dressed, just in case Joly should think to insult her sense of fashion. She looked damn good, after all. "It is a shame I could not meet him. I admire commitment."

"I could see that of you, somehow." Joly studies her and smiles. "There is something bold in you, truly, among other qualities." Ah, no worries there, Felicity. Your clothes do not clash or come in horrifying color schemes. You are quite safe and stylish there.

"I think that he would have liked you as well."

This caused her to beam, looking suddenly quite proud and pleased with herself. "Your other friend would disagree, however. He seems to think me mad." She sent a sharp glance toward Enjolras.

"Does he so?" Joly glanced toward Enjolras too, and found himself sighing a bit. "Well. Enjolras can be...a bit of a porcupine, I fear. It may be that he met you whilst his quills were rather firmly sticking out. We ought to work on training him for these occasions better, really."

"He is a rather presumptuous man. He seems to view me as a woman first and as a person second. It's incredibly hypocritical." And it drove Felicity crazy. At least in Joly she seemed to have found someone in whom she could begin to confide her frustrations.

"I would have said before that he did not understand women so much." Joly mused, thoughtful as he considered it. "That is, he knew your fairer sex existed but I do not think that he knew of it as more than a vague concept. Perhaps, when met with the actual article, things got a bit confused. I should think here was a little different. There is the matter of his social life, after all, but..."

He shrugged a little. "It is no EXCUSE of course, but things are different at home. Unfairly so. He has, I suspect all of us do, a bit to overcome in those terms, still."