The drink will flow and blood will spill

[libertin]

Who| The Holy Trinity Enjolras, Courfeyrac & Combeferre
What| Reunited and it feels so good, aka How Enjolras Got His Groove Back
Where| District 11 Suites
When| The night after this.
Warnings/Notes| Rad bromance

There was no denying the elation Courfeyrac felt at having been united again with Combeferre. There was also no denying that he felt real pangs of guilt over his happiness. He'd never have wished this destiny onto anyone, and especially not onto his friend. But Combeferre's guidance was needed here, now more than ever, and if anyone stood a chance of reasoning with Enjolras and getting them back on course, then it was Combeferre.

Having their guide so close at hand only added to Courfeyrac's glee, so after making the necessary cordial introductions to the Avoxes and other people in the suite, he motioned that Combeferre should join him in his bedroom, so that they might speak more privately.

"You've no idea how sorely you've been missed," he said, at last allowing himself to embrace his friend. He'd not wanted to seem overly dramatic about it with the other Tributes and such watching them. "Enjolras will be joining us soon, no doubt." He gestured to the well-appointed room, urging Combeferre to make himself at home. "He'll want to know what it is that you can last remember. I think it would be wise if you told me first."

Comments

[philosophe]

The Avoxes were just one more singularly disturbing thing to add to this singularly disturbing day. However, he was grateful to at least know his friends were present. It was even some relief to learn that among them were Courfeyrac and Enjolras, though clearly none of them would wish the other being here on their worst enemy.

He returned the embrace gladly upon arrival in Courfeyrac's bedroom, giving the other young man a small smile. "I think I might have some, considering what little information I have gathered since I awoke." He paused to collect his thoughts, adjusting his glasses absently for a moment. "The last I recall is the barricades. It was very nearly the same as it was in what they showed here; I remember hearing you nearby, and...well, then I was quite intimately acquainted with a bayonet."

[orestes]

"Then you both have more knowledge of our fate than I can claim." Or at least, that had been true until the exposé. Of course, judging from the others, he could only be sure how much of the video could be trusted. For him, at least, most of the instances appeared to have an element of truth, misrepresented though they were.

He gestured to the door, naturally severe demeanor in no way improved by recent events. It was only the arrival of his friend that kept his expression from being too dour. And even that was diminished slightly by wishing Combeferre could be, well, anywhere but here. "Let us talk inside. There are, no doubt, cameras or microphones that shall record us, but at least we needed be subjected to open gawking."

[libertin]

Part of him had hoped that perhaps his own memories were faulty and that somehow there had been a way to spare Combeferre and Enjolras their fates, but his friend's words were a sobering reminder of what had come to pass. They were all dead, all doomed, and there was no hope left for any of them. The only chance they had to try again was in Panem, and that chance wasn't turning out so well for them either.

He ushered Enjolras into his room, poking his head out into the suite in a last, instinctive notion before closing and locking it behind them.

"We've missed you," Courfeyrac said, locking eyes with Combeferre. The look on his face more accurately summarized what he was thinking: 'We've needed you.'

[philosophe]

"I would say the same, but I did not know you were gone." He managed a tired smile, however, and raised his eyebrows questioningly at the looks on both his friends' faces.

"May we speak safely here, or shall I hold back for another time? This is all -- rather overwhelming, to be honest, but I have many questions." Thrown from one revolution into the makings of another. Well, he is up for the task -- certainly this cannot be allowed to continue, but he supposes he should deal with things as they come. The first step, of course, is surviving whatever lies in wait in the arena.

[orestes]

"Here is as safe as anywhere else. And they have come to expect a certain amount of resistance from me and anyone with whom I have chosen to associate. You will no doubt be watched simply by virtue of being from Paris." He pushed passed the others toward what he knew to be Courfeyrac's doorway. His friends' rooms were smaller, no doubt, and less luxurious, but that didn't matter. Everything in the Capitol was worlds better than even the best things they had known back home, and while and and Courfeyrac had finally adjusted, Enjolras had no doubt that it would take Combeferre a while yet.

"What have you been told of the political situation?" He asked bluntly, certain that his friends would follow. "The government claims to function as a republic, but there is little evidence of it from their actions. The head of state is a man named Snow. He has several lieutenants who do his bidding with us."

[libertin]

Courfeyrac took the extra precaution of locking the door behind them, though truthfully there was no need to do so. The other D11 tributes would respect their privacy, but the Capitol would be watching them like hawks. It was to be expected.

He glanced to Enjolras, almost annoyed that the conversation had turned so serious so quickly. He'd rather wanted more time to simply enjoy Combeferre's presence before leaping head first into more somber matters. But, again, this was to be expected. There would be no time for merriment while there was a revolution to plan.

"Whatever questions you have, we will answer," he said, cutting Enjolras off near the end. "And we will be patient, won't we, Enjolras?"