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)
thecapitol2014-03-21 11:02 pm
gardienne) wrote in thecapitol2014-03-21 11:02 pm
A catch all. Partially open
Who: Eponine and Sigma: Eponine and Felicity: Eponine and Howard: Eponine and anyone else who wants to jump in!
What: A catch all post for catch-ups with various people she's in a bad mood with.
Where: Out and about in the Capitol: locations include the park and a local French style patisserie shop.
When: Some time after Jessica has worked her magic and helped Eponine on her way to a makeover.
Warnings: Eponine should just come with a warning sign, methinks. I'm gonna go on a limb and say 'talk of homosexuality, possibly in a negative light', 'talk of social class', 'talk of Harley's march of shame through the Capitol'.
Eponine and Sigma
Perhaps he knew where to find her? Perhaps he knew that she'd be sat on the bench overlooking the pond where they'd fed the ducks on that gloriously happy day when she came back to the Capitol. She was sat on the bench now, with her feet drawn up, staring at the pond. For once, she was wearing a couple of warm looking cardigans, and a shawl on top of that. She had a thick wooly hat as well, to disguise her newly bald head. What was she thinking? Not much. She was just sort of... staring. Meditating on how she had ended up in such a position, and how she could possibly get out of her mess. She turned her head when she heard footsteps, though, and scowled when she saw it was Sigma. She'd been avoiding Sigma since Harley had caught her, and she didn't want to see him now.
"Go away, Monsieur." Eponine said.
Eponine and Felicity
As the morning stretched into afternoon, Eponine ended up at a new favourite little cafe of hers. She liked it in the patisserie: the owners tried their best to speak French, and they loved having Eponine chatter it at top speed. For her part, she thought it was hilarious. Their French was dire, and it was nice to feel superior to people for a change.
So having had a looong conversation, half in French and half in English, Eponine was sat in the window of the cafe. On the table in front of her were several croissants and a little pot of strawberry jam, and another of marmalade, and a glass of orange juice, and a recorder that Eponine was fiddling with. The owners had asked her to record herself speaking so that they could play it in the cafe and inject a bit of authentic Paris into their business, and she was diligently trying to do as she had been asked. But it was frustrating, and Eponine swore under her breath, before trudging back to the counter. But so cross, so frustrated was she with the recorder that she didn't even look where she was going and bumped into someone awfully familiar.
Immediately, Eponine scowled and her free hand went to the turban style hat covering her baldness.
"Excuse me, Madame." She muttered, keeping her eyes averted.
Eponine and Howard
It had been a long day, and Eponine was quite drained by the time she had dragged herself back to the Tribute Towers. She went straight for the lift, but once inside, decided to just ... just not go to District Three. She didn't think she could cope with Jessica and Maximus and Marius - oh God, Marius. But where could she go?
She ended up on the rooftop. She could be alone up there, at least. Eponine settled herself down amongst the flowers, and lay back, looking straight up at the evening sky. After all of ten minutes, she began to wish that she'd brought food with her, but she was too comfortable, too absorbed in her thoughts about Sigma and Felicity to be bothered to move.
Eponine didn't hear the door open, nor did she hear Howard's footsteps until he was almost on top of her. But , with him barely five feet away, Eponine heard, and turned and groaned. No more. Please.
She closed her eyes, and flopped back over onto her back. "What do you want, Monsieur?"
OPEN
She stayed on the roof all night. It was a little chilly up there, and definitely damp, but she didn't really care. For a while, she simply wandered, pacing the garden backwards and forwards, looking quite the ghost in her pale dress and light pink turban. The singing gave her away, though. Her hoarse voice travelled in the still air as she sang ditty after raucous ditty about love and men and death and murder. But, for a change, her mind was quite at peace. Perhaps things could be different after all?
Her song stuttered into silence, though, as she heard a footstep somewhere behind her.
"Be careful, Monsieur. Or is it Madame? This is not the arena and I do not want to die."
What: A catch all post for catch-ups with various people she's in a bad mood with.
Where: Out and about in the Capitol: locations include the park and a local French style patisserie shop.
When: Some time after Jessica has worked her magic and helped Eponine on her way to a makeover.
Warnings: Eponine should just come with a warning sign, methinks. I'm gonna go on a limb and say 'talk of homosexuality, possibly in a negative light', 'talk of social class', 'talk of Harley's march of shame through the Capitol'.
Eponine and Sigma
Perhaps he knew where to find her? Perhaps he knew that she'd be sat on the bench overlooking the pond where they'd fed the ducks on that gloriously happy day when she came back to the Capitol. She was sat on the bench now, with her feet drawn up, staring at the pond. For once, she was wearing a couple of warm looking cardigans, and a shawl on top of that. She had a thick wooly hat as well, to disguise her newly bald head. What was she thinking? Not much. She was just sort of... staring. Meditating on how she had ended up in such a position, and how she could possibly get out of her mess. She turned her head when she heard footsteps, though, and scowled when she saw it was Sigma. She'd been avoiding Sigma since Harley had caught her, and she didn't want to see him now.
"Go away, Monsieur." Eponine said.
Eponine and Felicity
As the morning stretched into afternoon, Eponine ended up at a new favourite little cafe of hers. She liked it in the patisserie: the owners tried their best to speak French, and they loved having Eponine chatter it at top speed. For her part, she thought it was hilarious. Their French was dire, and it was nice to feel superior to people for a change.
So having had a looong conversation, half in French and half in English, Eponine was sat in the window of the cafe. On the table in front of her were several croissants and a little pot of strawberry jam, and another of marmalade, and a glass of orange juice, and a recorder that Eponine was fiddling with. The owners had asked her to record herself speaking so that they could play it in the cafe and inject a bit of authentic Paris into their business, and she was diligently trying to do as she had been asked. But it was frustrating, and Eponine swore under her breath, before trudging back to the counter. But so cross, so frustrated was she with the recorder that she didn't even look where she was going and bumped into someone awfully familiar.
Immediately, Eponine scowled and her free hand went to the turban style hat covering her baldness.
"Excuse me, Madame." She muttered, keeping her eyes averted.
Eponine and Howard
It had been a long day, and Eponine was quite drained by the time she had dragged herself back to the Tribute Towers. She went straight for the lift, but once inside, decided to just ... just not go to District Three. She didn't think she could cope with Jessica and Maximus and Marius - oh God, Marius. But where could she go?
She ended up on the rooftop. She could be alone up there, at least. Eponine settled herself down amongst the flowers, and lay back, looking straight up at the evening sky. After all of ten minutes, she began to wish that she'd brought food with her, but she was too comfortable, too absorbed in her thoughts about Sigma and Felicity to be bothered to move.
Eponine didn't hear the door open, nor did she hear Howard's footsteps until he was almost on top of her. But , with him barely five feet away, Eponine heard, and turned and groaned. No more. Please.
She closed her eyes, and flopped back over onto her back. "What do you want, Monsieur?"
OPEN
She stayed on the roof all night. It was a little chilly up there, and definitely damp, but she didn't really care. For a while, she simply wandered, pacing the garden backwards and forwards, looking quite the ghost in her pale dress and light pink turban. The singing gave her away, though. Her hoarse voice travelled in the still air as she sang ditty after raucous ditty about love and men and death and murder. But, for a change, her mind was quite at peace. Perhaps things could be different after all?
Her song stuttered into silence, though, as she heard a footstep somewhere behind her.
"Be careful, Monsieur. Or is it Madame? This is not the arena and I do not want to die."
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"That would be impossible. I am far to careful for that, Eponine." She arched an eyebrow. "But as I have manners, I shall let you go ahead."
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"And you may leave, Mademoiselle." she called to Felicity, when she looked up. "This is not a place for you. Go away."
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Eponine didn't trust Felicity very much at all. But she had very little choice, and so with a dramatic sigh, she handed the recorder over.
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"I am not above holding onto grudges, Eponine. But it does take a great deal of effort and ultimately it is not worth it in this case." Fee had her heart set on hurting Cinderella now. Her grudge against Eponine would take a back seat to that. She continued to fiddle with the device, not mastering it quite yet. "Curse this thing!"
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"You ought not to use language like that, Mademoiselle. You're a lady, a proper lady! You cannot say such things. Next, you will tell me you can swear!"
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Eponine had just about given up on the recorder. She was much more interested in Miss Worthington and her unladylike behaviour.
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"Give it to me. Nobody wants to hear your English or a bad French accent."
And of course she was completely independant and wealthy to boot.
"But there is no wealth here, Feliciy. Here, you are the same as me, ain't ya?"(
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She had leaned forward whilst she spoke, but she shrugged and sat back as she finished, a wry smile on her lips.
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That wasn't entirely true. She'd noticed poor people before, she'd come to know (and eventually despise) Bessie Timmons and the other factory girls. And Ann had become as dear a friend to her as anyone in the world. But Fee was trying to drive the point home to Eponine.
"I find it puzzling. You could be such a sympathetic figure, and yet... And yet all you can manage is to behave like an obnoxious little insect. Is there some mysterious advantage to it that I cannot recognize?"
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"That is why we rob you." There was venom in her voice. "Because you can't see us. And if you can't see us, we can't die for our crime. It's good, no?"
Her eyes narrowed and she glared at Felicity as the girl questioned her.
"I do not want pity, Mademoiselle. I am not an insect, nor annoying. I am just trying to get by. That is all."
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"It is obvious you are not trying hard enough. If you were, you would not be what you are now. You may have been reared in a gutter, but there's no reason you should act like it." That superior tone crept into her voice again. Felicity couldn't help it, she naturally sounded snide. "If it reassures you any, I've no pity for you at all. Pity should be reserved for those who cannot help their situations. You, Eponine, are entirely capable of helping yourself. You only choose not to."
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"I tell you, I was brought up in an inn, Madame. Proper respectable. I learned just like you. I learned my reading and my writing, and even numbers, how to keep accounts a bit, and the like. I ain't as common as what you think. You tell me how many girls like me what you know how to read. You can't tell me none, because there ain't any. I weren't always a beggar, Miss. I weren't."
The angrier she got, though, the more Eponine's grammar slipped, and the more common she began to sound.
"You don't know a thing about me, about what's happened to me here. You don't know nothing. Why you've only just come, and you're as green as a cabbage, Miss. You tell me what's happened to me and tell me how to change it. I don't know how to help nothing no more."
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"Well, it don't matter here, does it? There are plenty of meringues."
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"Well, it ain't for your ears, Madame. But money does solve a lot of things. Just fancy, if I'd've had a bit of money, I might be a wife now."
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