Freedom is within you

[libertin]

Who| Courfeyrac & Open
What| Post-Arena life adjustments and such. Basically, Max & Cindy are both gone and his world is a bit more dim.
Where| Training room, or elsewhere if you prefer.
When| Forwarded to after Max is killed by Kevin in the Arena, but before she's come back.
Warnings/Notes| Talk of character death? Tag in whatever format you like, just specify location!

Courfeyrac felt numb. Every ounce of emotion had been drained from him, every hope was gone. He'd been almost glued to the television once it got down to the final two. Max and Kevin. Vengeance would be hers and she would win and then he could go back into the Arena knowing that she was safe at least. But fate had other ideas, and as he watched the screen helplessly, his sister was turned to a bloody, lifeless mess.

It was enough to make him sick. It was enough to drain him of every human feeling, and once he felt empty, he was quickly overcome by a second wind of unstoppable rage.

He stalked out of the common area of the District 11 suite and toward his own room, literally knocking things over in his fury as he stormed passed. Furniture was kicked over, mahogany table flipped. If there had been china or glass around, he'd have thrown it to the ground. All he could see when he closed his eyes was her body, bloodied and mangled, with Kevin looming over her like a giant. Courfeyrac hadn't been so pissed off in a long time.

But that might've been it. It could have ended there. A day or two of rage over the injustice of watching Max die and he would have gotten over it. Except the hours continued to tick by and she had yet to return. He'd expected that she would come running to him, or bound up to him and scold him for fretting, at the very least. Instead, she was gone. Vanished. No more. Just like Cinderella.

He was so close to becoming morose over it all. That happy, jovial gent was ready to retire for good and let the sullen, mournful brat replace him forever. He didn't care about anything anymore. He had nothing left. His lover was gone. His language was gone. And now, the one bright spot that he'd cherished had disappeared too. Of course, there were friends and other company, but what good were they when he'd left his dear little Max all alone to die?

He couldn't stand the guilt. So instead, he took to beating the crap out of the available training dummies. He might not get the chance to kill Kevin with his bare hands, but he'd avenge his Max somehow.

Comments

[carnagecarnival]

It's such a trollish reaction, to react with a turn of anger, a readiness to and for attack, and then the slow sink after on realisation, for a second he can imagine Courfeyrac with horn upon him. What does it mean, that the humans here become more like his own kind with each passing calamity? He supposes he should think them stronger, it is what he would've believed before. For some reason, that's more difficult to reconcile now.

"Sounds as to be phrase what all to live by," He says, with a faint surprise. It almost sounds like the sort of thing he'd say, only with phrasing turned. "WONDER ALL UPON WHO THIS WISE MAN WAS LIKE AT TO BE."

He turns his attention briefly to the dummies, then back again to Courfeyrac. "And so a brother has found resolve for strife... and cull, he wonders?"

[libertin]

"That wise man was called King Solomon," Courfeyrac answers, wiping his brow with his sleeve. "He was a prophet to many humans, a leader, a man of great spiritual significance." He thinks briefly that Initiate might appreciate reading about Solomon, and he silently laments the absence of his writings in Panem. Lapsed as he may be in his own faith, some of the guiding principles of the old texts were worth reading and considering, he thought.

As for strife and culling, Courfeyrac finds that he's a little put off by the assessment... but only because the realization comes that that is in deed what he has resolved to do. He's been pushed to the point of violence before (his actions and death is June 1832 were but one instance of this streak in him) but that point had yet to resurface in this world. For a moment, he almost blanches at the thought. It passes quickly, however, and instantly he seems at peace with the silent choice he's made.

"The two women I love are gone. They were killed and they've not come back. I have been given every reason to fight and I've not taken the bait until now. This, my friend, this is the straw which has broken my back. Cindy. And more so than Cindy, Max. If they have died for nothing but bloodlust, I shall avenge them, and gladly."

[carnagecarnival]

"A king, a prophet, a leader, and one of spirit. MAKES HIM THINK OF GRAND HIGHBLOODS PAST, IT UP AND DOES. A human Grand Highblood, how strange." More and more does he find similarities in their kind. He does not ask if this Solomon was fully of such hero status. He's not sure what he might think, if it is otherwise. Disappointment, maybe.

"HE DOES NOT JUDGE THINE FURY, BROTHER. He does not hold it against a motherfucker, no, that ain't his way. HE HAS LOST SOME OF HIS OWN. A little sister, a moirail and best friend..." He says. He cannot make his voice quiet. The fluctuations he's been cursed with forbid it. But his tone is subdued, like he would be quiet if only he could be. "HE WILL NOT STOP A BROTHER. It is not in his nature, not in the nature of my kind, to oppose vengeance for loves lost. IF THERE IS ONE THING PROMISED IT IS THAT. But he wonders, idle only, do you blame they what marked color upon their hand, or some greater thing? OR LESSER."

[libertin]

This gives the man pause, not because he feels his fury may be unjustified or wrong, but because for the first time in a long time, he feels it may be entirely misplaced. Kevin had killed him. Kevin had killed Max, too. But while it was true that Kevin was a monster, it was the Capitol who had unleashed that beast onto him and his sister. The scorpion has no choice but to sting, for it is his nature. Kevin had no choice but to feed. It was what he'd been made for, by whichever smiling God he chose to believe. The Capitol knew this well. The Capitol had sent them all in with the scorpion.

"I blame him. But I also blame them all. They were complicit in this, the lot of them." Courfeyrac swallows hard, wiping the hair that is stuck by sweat from his brow. "No crime shall go unpunished for this."

[carnagecarnival]

"In strife upon the beaked beast, WHOSE TALONS GLIMMERGLEAMED. In holding shield of good feast, THINE SO DIDST THINK IT SEEMED. The creature was a demon sort, AND SET TO BRING A DOOM. until upon that bright ungracious court, THE MONSTER, CLAIMED, CONSUMED," He recites. It doesn't matter if Kevin meant as to or not. It doesn't matter if the chip got pushing down what he felt through his chucklevoodoo, that arena, or if Kevin only had done as he ever would do. The fact of the matter was that Croufeyrac wanted vengeance and Kevin had brought it down.

"So long as all a motherfucker knows. SO LONG AS HE BE KNOWING." He might wish luck at another time, if he did not know of the little voice in Kevin. But he does wish it for the fall of the bigger enemy. "Do you intend to seek of such retributionals alone? WITH NO ONE BY SIDE? Or...?"

sorry for the lateness :c

[libertin]

The little lines of verse strike a chord with him, make him reflect in uncomfortable ways. Courfeyrac tries to keep his emotions in check though, so as not to give all of his intentions away.

"I cannot say yet," he admits cautiously. "I have it in my head to do it myself. After all, it is my heart they have broken. However it is not just mine. It is all of our hearts which beat and bleed at their whim. Oh, what a wicked fate this is. How heavy this cross has become."

He shifts dramatically, as if to demonstrate his sorrow at having to bear such emotional pain. "My friends, you see, they say that I am the "center". Do you know what they mean by that? They mean that I am the sun, around which they orbit. They are drawn to me, because I am charismatic, or they perceive me as such. I befriended them first, and then they befriended one another, you understand? Because of this, I am certain that they would assist me if I asked them to. However... is it not cruel to ask another man to bear these feelings and this guilt along with me? Would it be just to ask another to seek revenge along with me, and at my behest? I cannot help but question the very idea."

it is all good friend, fret not =w=

[carnagecarnival]

"DO YOU KNOW?" He says conversationally. "I've never seen a sun, until I came here. THE SUN OF MY WORLD WAS TOO BRIGHT FOR MOST TO STAND IT. We would be blinded in moments to see its rays. ONLY THE DEAD, AND THOSE OF PUREST JADE, COULD WALK IT." Which is to say, the metaphor of 'sun' is odd and unusual, but he thinks he could understand the concept of centers.

He breathes deep once then exhales, staring down at his feet as he thinks how to adress this. One thing comes to mind and he almost shoves it down. But he can't, not really, when its being this relevant. "...Once, long ago, I had a friend," He begins, slow. "WE WERE CLOSE. He was... very precious to me. BUT THERE WAS A GREAT DEAL DIVIDING US. Many a thing, and against these, he got many dangerous ideas to his pan. THINGS WHAT BROUGHT GREAT RISK AND DOOM, BUT HE BELIEVED IT HOPE NO MATTER MY WORDS. He scared me, as a child, as well as earned my ire as I grew. I LEARNED HE HAD BROUGHT OTHERS INTO HIS SCHEMES, AND OH, BROTHER, I WAS FURIOUS. It was worse still they believed they were right and so very motherfucking many would be lost with the want of paradise on their tongues with no means to reach it. I THOUGHT HIM CRUEL, AS MUCH A MONSTER AS ME BUT FAILING TO ADMIT, AND SO, WORSE FOR HIS HYPOCRISY." There's a long pause. A hang in the air. His hands are clenched and curled tight.

"But..." He continues, "If my friends were to leave now. TO LEAVE THIS MOTHERFUCKER'S OWNSELF BEHIND WITH NO WORD AND SO GO ABOUT THEIR OWN DOOMS. I think I should not like that either. THINK AT HE'D BE JUST AS FURIOUS, HE WOULD. Without them, I would lose myself in a way what cannot be saved. THIS IS A THING WHAT I KNOW TRUE AND SHOULD HOPE TO AVOID. He would rather live, with brothers and sisters close and kept. BUT IF THEY WERE TO DIE, HE WOULD RATHER DIE WITH THEM. I think... I would not take action until I was certain mine could be saved. OR THAT THERE WAS NO OTHER WAY, IF I WISHED NOT TO LOSE ALL I HAD MOTHERFUCKING GAINED, TO ACT IN THAT VERY MOMENT. He can bear the loss of no more of his and so it is for that reason, he seeks still his own safety, for that is fair and right. AND IF HE DOST FAIL AND FALL, HE WOULD HOPE THEY CAN FIND FORGIVENESS." His mouth presses to a line and he breathes another sigh.

"He ain't apt to stop you," He says again, repeating himself. "IT IS NOT MY MOTHERFUCKING PLACE. But if a brother does ask of what should be done, he would say from thine eyes it would be best if one could hold breath just a while longer. UNTIL GREATER CHANCE OF SAFETY. So none need beg a corpse to rise. BUT... I AM A SELFISH TROLL... AND I HAVE BEEN WRONG BEFORE." He nods to himself, like he's reassuring himself of his own words.

[libertin]

Courfeyrac stood there, not so much stunned into silence as he was a bit shamed into it. The troll was correct about a lot of things, and his words hit very close to home. Truth be told, Courfeyrac still had a lot of guilt around his real, actual death and the lasting effects it had had on his sisters and parents. He'd been so caught up in everything, so eager to take up the fight and do the right thing that he ceased to be concerned with his own family. But what made it all worse was that he knew he wouldn't hesitate if he had to do it all again. Or rather, he wouldn't hesitate much.

"So now I must decide if my life is worth my vengeance. What do you say, my friend? Is he who hesitates lost? Or should I wait, bide my time until a better chance presents? Oh, hell. I do not know what I should do!"

[carnagecarnival]

His fangs nick and press his painted lips, thinking what to say and what not to. No matter what, it's a gamble. And, oh, to again to hold the ability to speak of what should be done, to fight or remain safe, it draws an old ache.

Finally, he says slow, "If a brother dost be of the harsh uncertainties. ALL A WHIRL IN HIS PAN FOR THE WHAT NOTS AND WHAT TO DOS. Perhaps that in its own motherfucking self be of indication to hold out. IF A BROTHER'S HEART BE UNCERTAIN, HIS HEAD AIN'T APT TO BE NO CLEARER. And with a turn in both, the illusionist's kaleidoscope shall trick thine vision and lead you astray." All underlying is a faint 'perhaps'. The implication he doesn't truly know what he should do either, but hopes it's not the foolish option.

"THERE MAY STILL BE TIME AND CHANCE. There may still be better means."

[libertin]

Courfeyrac closed his eyes, slowly nodding. He would wait then, until the time was right. And then vengeance would be his, and it would be oh so sweet.

"You are wise beyond your years, my friend. I am grateful for your guidance." He reached to take the other's hand, to grasp it sincerely. "Will you pray for me?"

[carnagecarnival]

The relief near winds him. He didn't expect it, but now all of limitless surprise, he realises someone has actually listened to him in such a respect. Someone heard his preach for a safety claimed over the charging brash. It's hardly believable.

And then the motherfucker is all of taking his hand. The Initiate feels as though his mind's been wiped blank.

"YES. Of course, brother," says his mouth, faster than his mind. It's the first he's been asked to pray for someone, instead have just done it. He lifts the hand that courfeyrac has taken, putting it, even held still, to the flat of his opposing hand. Some gestures are, it seems, universal. His eyes close and so he prays.

"UPON DAWN'S CRUEL ASCENT, O LAUGHING LAUDED, WITNESS STILL SCOURED AND UNSCATHED YOUR FAITHFUL FAMILY. Let us wince not to the light beyond split veil, see to us, Oh Mirthful, the salvation righteous to motherfuckin be. ALLOW THINE HAND TO COVER MINE EYES AND OURS, SO THAT WE MAY NOT BE BLIND, BUT DO SO IN SUBTLETY, THAT UNLACERATED WE REMAIN BY OUR ENEMIES. Give us your holy gracing, bestow to us your guidance most grand, our souls yours and yours, as loyally, we will follow thee. GIVE US GRACE OF SAFTEY TO THE DUSK AND SO TO YOUR NAMES SHALL WE SING. Amen." His breath comes out in a heavy drop, as he looks then to Courfeyrac.

[libertin]

As The Initiate prayed, Courfeyrac mouthed along some of the old Latin mass, and as the prayer ended he made the sign of the cross with his hand. "Amen. Ah, but that is good. I must confess, my friend, I am not the most pious of men. I have sinned a great deal in my day. I have disobeyed my father and mother, I've taken scores of lovers. I've taken men's lives without regret. And yet now, just praying, I feel that I am at ease. I cannot pretend I will not contemplate sinning again, but here and now I could swear that I am forgiven. Isn't that queer?"

[carnagecarnival]

The cross gets a curious look. He supposes it of significance but this particular gesture has no meaning to him. He will not let his confusion stop what is being more important here, however. There is right and proper confession done about and he, as a preacher, has duty to hold to.

He says, "ARE ALL US NOT SINNERS, BROTHER? We are but mortal motherfucking beings. YOU HAVE CONFESSED TO YOUR SIN AND SO MAY NOW MOVE PAST. You did tell, you were of doubt. OF FAITH FALTERING A MOTHERFUCKER WAS LIKE TO BE. But still as you claim to lack piety, you pray. PERHAPS YOU ARE NOT SO LOST AS MOTHERFUCKING THOUGHT, MOTHERFUCKER. Perhaps, if you feel you have been forgiven, you have been. I SPEAK MESSIAHS' WORDS BUT I DO NOT CHOOSE THEIR PREACH. I know my place not to put words in the maw of the Mirthful. BUT AIN'T IT STILL NOT AN EASY THING WHAT AS TO CLAIM, THAT OF FORGIVENESS, AND SO THEN COULD IT ONLY BE OF THE HOLY? Could it not be sign? COULD IT NOT BE BLESSING OF A CHANCE DONE KICKED TWICE SO? Ought use it well, you should, my brother."

He pats the hand held, before letting go. He feels like to smile. Alternia, being as it was, he did not often get to do such things as this, a guidance personal for the righteous path, showing faith. It was of his favourite of the Gods' work.

"AIN'T SO QUEER. It is a Miracle, be what."