Slinking back

[gardienne]

Who: Eponine and OPEN
What: Eponine slinks back to the Tribute Towers
Where: The Common Room of the Tribute Towers
When: Perhaps a week or so after her humiliating march through the Capitol
Warnings: I don't know. I'll update if necessary


She had vowed that she was never going to come back. She had vowed that never again would she take a single thing from the Capitol.

And yet, here she was, begging at their door.

She was still wearing the odd combination of dress and leggings and trainers she had grabbed however long ago when Harley had let her go, though they were coated in two week's worth of mud now, from where she had slept rough. Little bits of the orange wig were still stuck in her hair: bits of her own were missing from where she had yanked the wig free and pulled it out. But Eponine didn't care. She was hungry. She was cold and she was damp. And she was fed up of the peculiar looks, and the stares and the chortles and the whispers.

Aunamee will help me. Aunamee will show me how to fix it. Aunamee - the only man she was not too ashamed to go and see. Aunamee, who was every bit as rotten as she was - he'd tell her what to do. Surely he'd be dead by now?

She slipped into the Towers shortly after midnight had struck, hoping against hope that nobody would be about. First, a brandy. And then Aunamee.

Comments

[wantwhatiwant]

Ian was coming home early for once, exhausted, angry, full of displaced anger that he wasn't sure what to do with.

He was going to head to the training centre, working out had once calmed him and now, even though it was mixed up with preparing for the arenas, he hoped it might still.

But as he was passing by he spotted Eponine. He had given up looking for her after a few days, figuring she would be back when she had calmed down, or when she got hungry.

"'Ponine?" He leaned against the door frame of the lounge.

[gardienne]

Eponine looked around at the sound of her name. Was it -

No. Just Ian. She turned back and downed her brandy, before turning back to him.

"You didn't find the thing to make the hair come off." She said, accusingly.

[wantwhatiwant]

"Yeah, I tried." He looked embarrassed, "They all said they didn't have any, I think they thought I was in some sort of wig and was trying to spite my stylists."

"I'm sorry 'Ponine."

[gardienne]

She shrugged. "I had to rip my hair out. It bled, a little bit. But I got it off in the end. She put glue everywhere."

Her hand shook as she reached for another drink. "Have you seen Monsieur Aunamee? Is he dead yet?"

[hanssome]

An inability to sleep shouldn't be a particularly surprising consequence of time spent in Arenas. Hans had always been a light sleeper, with twelve older brothers in one castle it didn't take much to wake him up for hours on end. In this case, it had been a snort in someone's sleep, easily mistaken for a snort of laughter indicating the possibility of a prank being pulled. It's enough to make him restless, so much so that he's opted to wandering around the center in the peace of the night.

It's peaceful, probably a bit too peaceful for it to be truly relaxing. He feels a little under dressed in track-pants and a white tee, but it's almost liberating not to feel obligated to dress up all the time. There's hardly anyone here to see him at this hour, after all, but that doesn't mean he won't smile as he sees a figure approach.

"Good evening." He greets, dipping his head into more of a nod than a bow. It takes him a moment to recognise her, but when he does he looks concerned. "Miss Jondrette? Are you alright?"

[gardienne]

"Monsieur Hans!" She smiled her first genuine smile in ages and ages. "I am better now that you talk to me, Sir. But, why are you awake? Ought you not be in bed? I came back now because I thought everybody would be out or asleep and so would not see me now. But you have, and... oh, I did not wish to look so untidy when we met in person, Monsieur."

[hanssome]

"Well, I'm glad to hear it." And it shows as his concern leaves his expression so he can return the smile just as enthusiastically. He'll fold his arms politely behind his back as she speaks, looking terribly formal for someone in sweatpants.

"It looks like I'm not the only one who had a little trouble sleeping." And there's the concern in his expression again. "Really, it's no problem. I'm sure both of us could look better right now. What's important is that you're alright. Are you sure there isn't something I can help you with?"

[gardienne]

"You look terribly handsome, Sir. I like the hair on your face." Eponine gestured to Hans' sideburns, reaching out as if she was going to touch them. "I think even if you wore my clothes, you would look handsome." To his questions though, she simply shrugged. "You want to help a girl like me? Even with what these people call me? You shouldn't be seen with a girl like me, Sir. People will suspect that you are up to no good."

[akingalways]

Unfortunately, in a place like the Capitol, there was no such luck of being alone, no matter the time. Jack was just getting in, himself, disheveled from a museum dance-themed party. He was jostled, shoved, and made himself dance with nearly everyone. He needed to, as everyone was practically cheering on Joel in the continuing Arena. Joel, the last District 8 tribute in the game.

He needed to touch base with him - and with all his Tributes, come to think of it - once the Arena was over. It had been too long since the last time. He had to at least try and do something to connect to his Tributes.

It was while he was thinking about those things that he spotted Eponine. Frowning, he walked towards her table, folding his arms. She looked a mess, and looked like she needed the company - or at least a shower to wash herself from whatever crazy party she'd gone to.

He groped to figure out a way to express that tactfully.

"...So what the hell happened to you?"

Unfortunately, had it been anyone else other than Jack, the attempt at tact, at least, would have been successful.

[gardienne]

Eponine looked up. She had no idea who this man was, and quite frankly, she didn't really care. He was obviously taking the mick out of her. She replied coldly.

"I cannot believe, Monsieur, that you have not seen the newspapers. So many of them show me being led through the streets by Mademoiselle Harley, or carried over her shoulder, with my fake bottom on display. Do you truly expect me to believe that you do not know why I look so terrible?"

She tried to push her straggly hair back to hide the bald patches. "Is that enough for you, Sir?"

[akingalways]

"...I don't read the newspapers." For that matter, why was this girl so angry at him? "The only gossip I'm interested in at this point, is gossip that can help my District in the Games."

Particularly since the last time he'd paid attention to that kind of stuff, he got bitten. At the patches, though, he started a bit. He'd seen Harley before - pretty much she was one of the most annoying people in the Capitol, just nosy and interrupting conversations and weirdly violent in the Arenas and all that. It hadn't occurred to him, however, that Harley was violent outside of the Arena as well.

Maybe he should pay a little more attention, but...not too much. Or something. Jack didn't know.

"She...why haven't you reported her?!"

[gardienne]

"Who would listen?" She propped her left elbow on the table. Fastened tight about her wrist was a thick Capitol cuff, marking her out as a bother. Besides which... she was a thief. She'd get herself into trouble. Again.

"Monsieur," She turned back to her drink. "Leave me be."

[youbarium]

Carlos...well, he hadn't gone to sleep. He'd been working on revised drafts of a gadget whose purpose he probably couldn't explain even if he tried, and had reached a block. He hadn't made any progress in over an hour, so the best thing to do, he decided, was to take a walk and clear his head. He was in soft sleep-pants and a t-shirt, but he still had his lab coat on over the pajamas, glasses on his nose, and a mug of coffee in hand. He had gone to the roof first, but that was entirely too cold, even with the coffee. That was why he was downstairs, walking around the lobby and common areas of the Tribute center, and why he was there to see Eponine skulking around.

"Hey there," he called out, "where do you think you're going?" Someone walking around at night wasn't automatically suspicious, but someone who obviously did not want to be seen certainly was. He hadn't noticed the sorry state of her hair and clothes yet, but he would soon -- he took a few steps closer to her.

[gardienne]

Eponine froze as soon as Carlos called out to her. Her hands clenched into fists, and she glared at this man. Was he a Capitol man? A Peacekeeper? Or a man who made the arenas? She didn't know. But she didn't like the tone of his voice, nor the insinuation that she was doing something wrong.

"I am having a drink, if it is all the same to you, Sir. Or perhaps you would rather me starve and go thirsty? That is about right, no?' She shook her head. "Leave me be. I am doing no harm to you, Monsieur."

[youbarium]

None of the above, Eponine -- he was a scientist. And, as all scientists are, Carlos was observant, and it was only as he approached that he noticed the state of her hair and clothes.

"Oh, my god," he said, staring openmouthed. "What happened to you? Are you all right? That's a stupid question, of course you're not -- you look like you've been sleeping outside for a week!" The sharp tone had dropped away completely, replaced by one of concern.

[gardienne]

"I have been sleeping outside, Monsieur." She kept her defensive tone. "I don't know how long, if you please. All the days are the same. But of course I am okay. I am fine. Why should I not be? It is no different than your stupid arenas, is it not? Better - for there is nobody waiting to kill me." She snorted derisively. "You do not have to pretend that you care. I will still be here to die in the next arena."

[orestes]

Enjolras didn't sleep well anymore, not as a rule. He slept better since Venus' return, and that of Joly, and of Marius and Cosette, but he still laid awake far too often worrying for Courfeyrac. When he could convince himself that no amount of concern would help his friend in the immediate future, there was still the ever present worry for their political situation and the crushing disappointment of his own impotency in regards to it.

As such, it was not altogether uncommon for him to wander the common areas at night, when the shadows on the walls of the District 5 suite became too taunting, and reading no longer provided a sufficient enough distraction. Most of the time he encountered relatively few Tributes. The Avoxes slept under no pattern he could decipher, but they made a point of avoiding him. They seemed uncomfortable under his scrutiny, more content with being ignored than offered commiserations.

What was altogether unusual was Eponine lingering in the shadows. At first, he could dismiss it as simply being her way. After the Arena, however, Enjolras didn't know quite what to make of her, moreover, she seemed even more frayed than she did normally. Instead of seeming to be an emotional wreck dressed up and neatly packaged by the Capitol, she resembled the person she had been back in Paris, and he found himself remembering more small fragments of her chasing after Marius.

"Eponine," he greeted, though truly it was less a greeting than an observation, an acknowledgment of her existence. He clutched his notebook more tightly, ironically a gift from the object of her affections. It was difficult to look at her. "What has become of you, mademoiselle?"

[gardienne]

"You have not seen the papers, Monsieur?" Eponine downed her toddy of brandy. "I cannot believe that you have not seen them. And for whatever I look like, whatever I might be, Sir, I do not appreciate being laughed at, if you don't mind my saying, Sir. " She didn't look at him. She couldn't look at him.

"Go away. I am not in the mood to teach you my tongue at this late hour."

[orestes]

It was hard to pity her when she gave off every impression of reveling in her downward spiral. She was prideful in a sense, obstinate. It would've been admirable under almost any other circumstances. As things were, however, he couldn't help but find it frustrating. Eponine was capable of so much more. Why she bothered herself with Marius, why she let him ruin her, Enjolras would never know. Nevertheless, it was her choice.

"I look at the papers, but I chose for myself whether or not to believe them. Are you saying that I should?" Just as he chose to ignore the not so subtle brush off. It was an out, a proverbial olive branch. She may have ruined her relationships with everyone else they knew mutually, but they didn't have to end quite so unfortunately. He took a step closer to her, the change in light feeding his perception of her in the darkness. "What are you drinking, Eponine?"

[paidinbeer]

Orc was surprisingly, not in the bar for a change. Instead he had a wicker basket in one of his thick stone fingered hand. A tight T-shirt stretched over his stone enhanced muscles with a picture of a porcupine on it.

In the back pocket of his custom tailored jeans a rolled up tabloid had informed him of what he had missed while he was still in the arena. And so he had set out to prepare to control some of the damage whenever he could find Eponine again.

Skittles was following him obediently and let out a bleat as she scurried for the bar.

"Hey wait, I'm not...well maybe just a drink." He mumbled chasing after the sheep at a faster pace.

[gardienne]

Eponine looked up when she heard the sheep bleat, and looked around properly when she heard Orc's voice.

Oh god. Orc.

If he saw her like this, there was no way that he'd love her. After what she'd done to him.... no. No. She couldn't see him. Quickly, Eponine slipped back into the most shadowy corner of the bar. She didn't know how to say hello. She desperately wanted to hug him... and his sheep.

[paidinbeer]

While Orc wasn't the most observant of boys turned rock monster, Skittles was apparently as the brightly colored sheep immediately made a B-line for her booth.

"Skittles get back here I...oh. Hey Eponine." He offered a craggy smile "I was looking for you." Oblivious to how she looked in the darkness of the bar.

[tis_allgood]

Now that Cuthbert is back in the Tower, he was trying to avoid certain people. Seeing Eponine in the District 3 suites was painful enough but eventually he had to address it. First he had to hide a couple of times, though, until he had the guts to face her.

"I cry your pardon deep, Eponine. I am truly sorry, deeply and truly."

[gardienne]

"Monsieur Cuthbert." Eponine, on the other hand, had no such qualms about seeing Cuthbert again. She was grateful that he had killed her - yes, grateful! But she was cross as well.

"For what, Monsieur? My death, or Ian's? My own, I shall forgive and thank you for. But for Ian's - Monsieur, I loathe you for that."

[tis_allgood]

Bert isn't entirely sure who Ian is. He killed a bunch of people in the Arena and for a while it was a little fuzzy. But then he remembers Eponine yelling at him as he and Susannah fled after killing a man with Suze's plates.

"I didn't know he was with you or I would have had my partner stay her hand."

That much wasn't true, but it sounds true, and that's good enough for now.