Eponine Thenardier (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gardienne) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-03-04 09:20 pm
gardienne) wrote in thecapitol2014-03-04 09:20 pm
Slinking back
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.
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.