Dᴏᴍɪɴɪǫᴜᴇ ᴅ̶ᴇ̶ Cᴏᴜʀғᴇʏʀᴀᴄ。 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
libertin) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-07-07 06:47 pm
libertin) wrote in thecapitol2014-07-07 06:47 pm
Entry tags:
Freedom is within you
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.
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.
(yea)
"Was that my doing?" He asked her, a certain softness returning to his voice then. It was similar to the tone he used when he spoke to Max, gentle but firm. Not demeaning, but lacking the obvious affection he always reserved for the younger girl. "You must forgive my outburst. You see, they've killed my love and I've no idea what to do with myself. Your poor flowers were innocent victims along with my darling little sister."
He knew full well what he was doing, trying to play to Mariko's sense of pity. He was just a poor, simple man. He could not control himself. She ought to feel sorry for him. She ought to forgive him straight away.
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"And? That gives you the right to run storm around like brute and destroy everything? Not caring about others!" She answered with harsh voice, staring straight at him furiously. And to make her statement clear, that she wouldn't be won over that easily, she threw the ruined flowers at the man before her.
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Dejected and still angry, Courfeyrac turned to leave once more. "You will understand that soon enough, miss. Soon you will know what it is to feel your life fall down around you. Then, the fate of your pretty flowers will mean nothing."
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"Good!", she said quickly to his back with coldness in her voice. "At least you're now showing who you truly are!"
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But the truth was, he could not lock out his emotions, no matter how he tried. He was a thinking, feeling, grieving man. Every thought, every feeling, everything jolted him to his core. He was, unfortunately, just a man.
"Giving them what they want will earn you nothing. But perhaps you would be happy with that, since apologies are meaningless to you."
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His words really hit and sank. It always hurt to hear someone speak badly about her or throw out malicious accusations at her, but usually Mariko was strong and stubborn enough to either not to care about them or to defend herself. But now what really wounded her so deeply was that, well, he was right about her and Mariko knew it very well. She was just that kind of despicable and mean person who stepped on the misfortune of others. Selfish person, who could not even control her own emotions or think about others.
"You are horrible. Absolutely awful." She sobbed, tears gathering to her eyes. "Don't you dare to say such... such horrendous things about of me! You don't even know me!"
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"You're right. I don't know anything about you, except what I see here right now. And you do not know me. Can you see now that it unfair to judge others by first impression alone?"
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"No! No! No! You don't get to say. Do you think I don't know what you are like? What all men are like! No!"
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Mariko straightened her back and lifted her chin up, trying to hide her uneasiness and fear behind her defiant pose. "And then you call me by sweet pet names like "my dear" just so that I would soften to you! And when that doesn't work you try scare me and shout pointless accusations! If that isn't awful and villainous I don't know what is."
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She was almost hit. No one had ever hit her.
Usually she would have a snarky comeback. She would bite back twice as mean as he did. But now she couldn't think of anything. He nearly hit her! That was the only thing she could think of. Sure, she might have gone bit too far, as usual, but she hadn't provoked him to use any violence! At least it proves that she was right all along.
The fear she currently felt toward the man before her was unparalleled. Even the terrors she experience out in the arena wasn't anything compared to this.
end?