thecapitol | Marinate in misery [OPEN]

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Marinate in misery [OPEN]

WHO; Rose and Open, with closed prompts for Dave, Eponine and Jolie
WHAT; Checking in on people and talking shit out
WHERE; The tribute tower
WHEN; Backdated to the last week of Arena 11, Around the 29/9
WARNINGS; N/A

Dave
It’s no surprise who she goes to see first, once Rose manages to pull herself out of bed. At the very least she knows better than to leave her room looking like a mess, and pulls herself together as much as she can. The brand still sits stark on her cheek and it’s out of avoidance of looking at it that she forgoes her usual lipstick, finger brushing her hair after she slips into a simple black boat neck top, tugging the sleeves over the heel of her palms. Jeans and simple flats finish it off and while it’s not her usual image that she tries to maintain she can’t bring herself to care. She’s branded, she can’t pull that look off that easily anyway.

She slips up to the suites of 9 a little after noon, letting him get his sleep and she hopes that he’s still there and not off having lunch or hanging with friends. Normal things, in a very abnormal scenario and while she’s mostly happy for him (That he has to chance to do this, to interact in person with more than one person and some trolls) she finds herself a little envious. She was never good at dealing with people in that sort of way, and she doesn’t have her confidont here anyway.

But Rose buries that the same time she raps sharply on his door, resisting the urge to lean her forehead against the wood. “Dave?” she says in a voice that’s barely loud enough to hear through the door. “Are you in here?”

Tres Jolie
She half feels like crawling back into bed after her talk with Dave and the thought it tempting enough to get her back down in district 8. It’s only in the hall she hesitates and glances towards the stylist suites before making a sudden turn. It’s been awhile, the very beginning of the arena that she saw Jolie and even then it was just for a few minutes and under too much supervision. She knows what role the queen played in the jailbreak, what risk she took and while she doesn’t trust even this place to openly thank her she can find some way.

Reaching the door Rose half considers turning back to her room, at least to put on a touch more make up, something to hide the circles under her eyes even though it won’t fade the brand on her cheek. But in the end she just knocks, trying to straighten her shoulders a little more as she waits for Jolie to answer the door. She’s too tired to call out right now.

Eponine
It’s a day or so after her talk with Dave that she goes to find the French girl, not sure where she’ll find her or what she’s going to do when she does. It’s obvious to her that Dave cares somewhat about the girl, even if she hurt him emotionally and attempted to also do so physically. She’s a threat really, uncontrollable and off kilter and Rose should try and keep her away from Dave.

But at the same time she recalls her long conversation with the girl at the last crowning, the way she could tell there was something in the girl, something that had been beaten down and shattered over the years of abuse she’d found herself in. She had been here much longer than Rose, longer than Dave. It’s really no surprise her sanity seems fickle at the best of time but. Dave had asked her to try and help and if there’s anything Rose is weak to it’s to her brother’s whims, as stupid as they are.

So she finds Eponine’s room and slips in, not surprised at all the girl isn’t here. That’s fine, she can wait and she takes a seat after clearing clothes off a chair and pulls out a book, and starts reading.

Open
Rose mostly keeps to her room for the end of the arena, where she can wallow in whatever she pleases for a time. It’s tiring putting up a face and the brand on her cheek still turns her stomach in a mix of anger and vanity everytime she looks in the mirror and that does make putting makeup on a chore. But she drags herself out eventually, dark lipstick and long skirts back and makes her way around the tower, quietly checking in on people she’s talked to a few times with a quiet knock on their door. Of course if you haven’t yet met her there’s more than enough opportunities to, Rose taking a timeout on the roof for an ecig before going back down to watch some of the arena playing the concerned girlfriend for anyone whose watching whenever Clara appears.

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Jolie always has mixed feelings when people begin to trickle in. On the one hand it sucks that they lost their chances at winning, on the other hand she misses them and she can't help but be glad to see them. She'd reunited with Steve, Molotov and Bro and it managed to alleviate a lot of the loneliness and restlessness she'd been feeling, but it's about time people started to return to the districts. Rose in particular, considering the fact that she had left long before the others, considering Natasha hadn't returned at all.

She knows Rose is back, but she gives her time to handle her shit. She's pretty sure Rose will approach her when she's good and ready and if she doesn't then Jolie will find a chance to bother her.

As such, when she hears the knock at her door, she doesn't expect it will be her. She reluctantly stands up from her busywork cleaning and crosses toward the door to open it with a bland look, but it quickly turns into a grin. "Your brother goes all out and gets me flowers and all I get from you is a Rose, huh?" She's hilarious, but she's also wasting no time stepping into Rose's space so she can wind her arms tight around her and pull her in close.

She probably should have come sooner she thinks. At the very least shown her face to make sure the queen knew she was here and not back in some cell to be kept there till the next time she could be of some entertainment. Though perhaps this is the entertainment in itself, the test to see how she goes and what she does.

Rose doesn't let herself ponder that too much, aside from the times it becomes inevitable. The time between awake and sleep mostly and so she shoves those thoughts down, managing to form a weak smile to greet Jolie when she opens the door but it doesn't matter that it's a struggle to keep it looking like something natural and Rose stiffens ever so slightly when Jolie steps into her space. She relaxes in the next instant of course, and she can feel her shoulders slump as some strange sense of relief, of comfort fills her when Jolie comforts her.

"Well some of us need to compensate, don't we? I find most are happy with just being presented with myself, and I don't need extra to impress," she shoots back, trying to some as crisp and sassy as she she usually is and she wraps her own arms around Jolie and hugs her back, pressing forehead to her shoulder.

Jolie was aware that she had returned. Other people with brands were back, people with cuffs were back, it seemed like the Capitol had squared away that punishment for the moment. It's a huge relief, even if she's able to contain her excitement enough to give the woman some space. She's sure there's some real shit going down on the horizon, though, so she's glad she isn't kept waiting too long.

By now, she's used to people being hesitant with affection. She breezes past the way she stiffens and just pulls her in for a protective hug, nesting her head atop of Rose's with a content sigh.

"You're talking to a Capitol bitch, girl. You don't know a desperation to impress until you've tried to ram diamonds up every orifice and topped it off with a box of chocolates." Charming as ever, of course. "How are you doin'?" It's said airily, the sincere concern veiled under the casual delivery.

It's a fact she'll never truly confess to but Rose Lalonde is a vain woman. The vanity is born from pride but it's there all the same, digging at her whenever she's glimpsed herself in a mirror and seen that brand, marring her face. She's an attractive woman, she knows that much, with a face that looks younger than her age and features that captivate and the brand makes her burn in cold fury at the audacity. It's stupid, she should just be glad she still lives, that they haven't seen fit to do something worse but it stings all the same.

She can't help the slight way she stiffens again when Jolie's arms tighten, Rose acutely aware how little she's allowed herself to be hugged, and a part of her whispers why in her mind. Why does she allow this step, this boundary break and why doesn't she break the contact and discourage it. It's foolish but she sinks into Jolie's hug a touch more and she knows deep down she needs this.

"Experienced that yourself? It sounds like quite the story, did you get to keep the diamonds at the very least?" It's refreshing, it makes her shoulders shift in a way that shows her amusement and Rose shifts back, glancing away and shrugging one shoulder as she tries to keep her tone as light as before. "Fine, of course. It's nice to have a bed again, and more than a single meal a day. I'd grown sick of doctors too, so if the one that haunts these halls comes looking, you haven't seen me."

After many, many years of working with District kids, Jolie isn't particularly thrown by the terse reaction to affection. She's pretty sure she wouldn't even get Joel within an arms length, so she considers this a success. She lets the hug continue for at least a few moments, especially when Rose goes as far as to sink against her.

"I'll have you know I'm a virtuous woman, Rose. I couldn't take those, literally, filthy diamonds without compromising my values." She moves back from the hug as well, moving to take Rose's hands so she can lead her into the work room.

"Justine ain't so bad. She'll give you some shots so you don't catch anything off the sleazebags we live with." Her smile is coy as she moves to close the door behind her. "Welcome back to the lap of luxury, though."

"Oh of course. You are a being of purity and honour, never to have those traits besmirched." She smirks, letting Jolie take her hand even as she steps after the queen slowly, as if she's somehow reluctant to follow.

As Jolie shuts the door though she moves in further, eyes roving over the room and taking all the changes in. There's new outfits and new sketches and Rose runs a hand lightly over a bolt of silk, apparently studying the fabric with all her focus. "Oh I have opinion on her this way or the other. I'm more just grown weary of doctors as a whole. I'm sure if she needs any extra information there are others out there that can provide it." Until then she will actively avoid the encounter.

Her lips twitches at that, a strange sort of smile and Rose bites back a bitter laugh. "Trust me, after some of your Capitol's other... fine accommodation, this is a welcome sight. Who would have thought I'd ever see the day, hmm?"

It's a long time before Eponine comes back. She spends her days near Eva's now, either sat in the garden, or by her Mama's headstone. Eva has just a simple grave, in a discrete cemetary, but Eponine tends it with love almost every day. But once evening falls, Peacekeepers come to escort her back to the tower, to lock her in, to punch injections loaded with sedatives into her arm to send her to sleep.

They don't do that tonight, though. Obviously, someone knows that Rose is in the room.

Eponine is shoved unceremoniously into her bedroom. She trips, and saves herself from falling, immediately turning to shout swears at her closed door. It takes a minute or so before she realises that Rose is there, and she stares in astonishment and rubs her eyes, thinking she's hallucinating. But no. There is Rose and... Oh. Eponine rolls her eyes.

"So you are why I am not drugged? What do you want?"

She's not a slow reader in the slightest, but the book is thick and Rose takes her time with it, watching the time pass and the natural light fade. She's half wondering if Eponine's found someone else to bed with, another new boy, another crutch to focus all herself into. Rose had done a little research before approaching the French girl, heard all about her reaction to the death of her boyfriend as well as the woman she had considered a maternal figure. She knows more about her instability now, and really it wouldn't surprise her if she didn't come back tonight.

Just as she starts considering other ways to find the girl the door opens and the person she's been waiting for gets shoved through. Straightening up slightly Rose folds in the corner of her page and closes the book before rising as Eponine turns back to her.

"To talk, mostly," she says in a calm voice, raising a brow slightly. "They've been drugging you?"

Eponine nods, and shrugs her arm out of her hoodie to show Rose the bruise that marks their preferred injection site.

"Don't matter. They just want me to stay here all night. No more wandering. I shouldn't be surprised if Sigma's asked 'em to do it. He told that Cyrus he locks me in - and now they make sure of it." She sighs, remembering her promise to Sigma.

"But it's for my own good. But this isn't what you come to talk about. You've come to shout at me over Dave."

She pays close attention to the mark, noting the deepness to the colour of the bruise. It's definitely not a one time thing, and Rose stores that knowledge away, to look into later. To see if it's done out of a sense of fear of what Eponine could do, or something else. "A sedative then?" is all she ask though, before raising a brow a little higher at the girl.

"I wouldn't come here to shout at you about what you did to Dave if I decided to take action," her voice is careful, if light and she looks Eponine dead in the eye. " If I felt you were truly a threat to him you wouldn't be standing here." She lets the threat hang for a minute there before nodding.

"But you're correct that this does concern him. He's asked me to see if I can help you. Psychologically, that is." She studies her carefully, before shrugging slightly. "But you would have to be amiable to that in turn. I don't waste my time, and I wouldn't be asking in turn if he didn't feel you were beyond help. He clearly cares about you despite your actions."

Eponine bites down on the inside of her lip. Her first reaction is to tell Rose to clear off, that she has no business telling Eponine what to do, much less threatening her. But she doesn't. She doesn't because she wants Dave. So she nods.

"I wouldn't have hurt him. I was trying to scare him after he shouted at me. I shan't let nobody hit me again if I can help it."

She waits patiently for Eponine to make up her mind, to decide whether to accept or reject her offer. In truth, Rose has little opinion in which way she'd prefer this go, if Eponine refuses then she's still at the least made an offer and Dave didn't ask her to do anything more than that. And if she accepts. Well, she'll also have to agree to a few things.

"You severely misunderstand his character if you think he'd follow shouting with hitting, especially in regards to someone he cares about. Dave is much less spiteful than I, in many ways. If it was I I would cut ties completely and let you burn all your bridges and live in your self imposed isolation. Not be asking people to try and help you." Her lips quirk slightly, in an emotion she won't let fully show and Rose pushes it down and goes back to her neutral expression. "He's a good person. One might say you don't deserve him."

She shrugs slightly and takes her seat again. "But the only person whose thoughts that will matter here will be your own. I'll do my best to treat you, but in turn there are conditions. You will leave Dave alone until I say so. And you will actively try to both acknowledge and accept your problems and what issues you call. No passing you guilt off and blaming others. Understood?"

Eponine opens her mouth several times during Rose's little speech to interrupt with excuses and interjections and her opinion on how Rose was just awful and didn't really deserve Dave either. But Rose talked over her, until Eponine didn't bother again.

The conditions are difficult for Eponine. She doesn't want to think about her problems. Defensively, she says, "I'm not mad. I'm not." Because she fears that she is. She fears, really, that somebody, one day, will say that she is and she'll end up in some sort of hospital all locked up and truly, truly scared.

But she nods, somewhat sullenly, after a minute, to give her agreement to Rose's terms.

"You won't do what Harley did and tie my hands and make me strip and wear feathers, will you?"

She talks over Eponine because she doesn't care what the girl wants to say in her defence, not right now. It'll merely be denial and rejections. She can catch the attempt to try and say she doesn't deserve Dave either and it almost makes her cut herself off to laugh. What would Eponine do if she agreed, she wonders, because it's true in many ways. But they're also not focusing on Rose either, so she pushes that aside.

"You're certainly not stable," she shoots back cooly, head tilted ever so slightly. "But the good thing is that very few people are completely beyond help, but they have to be willing to accept their faults, to look straight into themselves and acknowledge their issues so they can work on fixing them. The psychology I've studied is not what you may have know in you day. And I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't feel you weren't someone who could be helped, even if Dave is the main reason for my approach."

She's silent when Eponine nods, studying her. She's sullen, a blind person could tell that, and when she speaks Rose is admittedly a little surprised. "I won't do that," she says after a pause. "That won't help you in the slightest, it's merely trying to shame you for your actions and that's not what I'm looking to do." She nods again, shifting slightly. "We'll mainly talk, about what your issues may be, and about what we can do to try and combat them. Steps you can take to either avoid or acknowledge when you're upset and what has upset you. You've suffered a lot of abuse from what I know, and that's not even considering what has happened in this place. It's not unexpected that this has had an impact on your mental state. Not unexpected, but it doesn't completely excuse you from your actions."

Edited 2014-10-12 08:36 (UTC)

"I don't want pity." She says, quickly. "I don't want an excuse. I know that I am horrible. I know it already - you don't have to tell me. I am the very devil himself."

She pauses, trying to think.

"I am a bad girl and I have done unspeakable things. But I don't want to be bad. I just want... I want to be happy again."

"And you won't be getting any from me," Rose says, voice cool. "This is a one time chance, your final chance. If you don't listen to me, if you start to cause trouble again I'm done and I'm sure Dave will be too."

She sighs, already a little done with dealing with the girl. "Start with not referring to yourself as the devil. It comes off as an attempt to seek some form of sympathy, a reassurance that you're not that bad. I won't be playing that game and there is a difference between acknowledging that you have done bad things and phrasing that acknowledgement like that. Now sit." She gestures to the bed with a flick of her wrist, waiting.

Rose drops to silence for a minute, crossing her legs slowly as she considers it all. "Let's start with you life back in your home," she says finally, all her focus on Eponine. "You've undergone a lot of trauma here, but I'm certain you were already undergoing it back where you're from."

Eponine has to bite her tongue hard to force herself not to reply to any of that. Already, she loathes this. She doesn't want to remember Paris.

She sits obediently, though she hates thst , too. Her first instinct is to rally against it, to do the opposite. She hates being ordered about. But sit she does, looking at the floor.

"What do you want to know of Paris? All of it?"

She's pleased a little, that Eponine does seem to be trying at least. She had expected a fight, had expected to throw her hands up and quit before she even really started. To tell Dave she tried but it didn't work and it's actually nice, to some degree, to be proven wrong for once.

"All of it is preferable," she says, never breaking her gaze from Eponine. "But we can start with whatever you're more comfortable with. We have time and they'll be other sessions." After all, she's not so cruel as to force the girl to spill all her past in one go.

"Well." Eponine just nods, resigned. She closes her eyes , so Rose can't see how much looking back makes her want to cry.

"I weren't from Paris . We lived in Montfermiel. Pa had an inn. He were a crook, though. We stole from everyone. It were good though. He liked me best. But after that man took Cosette away, we lost the inn and Pa took us to Paris . I remember that. Such a long walk, and so hot, for I remember the dresses I were wearing. Four or five, Miss , so as not to carry 'em. And we had to sleep outside - it were the first time. And didn 't me and 'Zelma howl? Pa whacked us then and set 'er off the more. It shut me up, though. And then in Paris?"

Eponine shrugs. If you listened just to her voice, she sounds emotionally detatched from everything. But it's her way of not crying.

"In Paris, the same . Nowhere to go. No money. And then Pa fell in with Patron Minette and so. He has me thieving at first, and it is okay. We make some money, find a room. But Pa spends on tobacco. No food and Gavroche howls and Pa throws him out. He hits us more, and Ma won't see. I used to do anything he liked to avoid the buckle. It cut your bottom and blood, and he makes you sit on the floor after to make it hurt. But it were okay. And Montparnasse said he loved me. Such a beautiful boy, and alright off as well. He were older than me, and his own rooms and a bath. I were to use it... He loved me, but a temper. He hit or scratched when I am bad. And on and on, until Pa begins writing letters to men and sending me."

Eponine stops talking. She 's quite pale beneath the dirt. "I didn't know it." She says, fretfully. "When he told me - and ten Francs. I sold it for ten Francs. That were the most I ever got, for what good is a girl without a maidenhead? I were so sore and all, and blood, and 'Parnasse had the bath to wash it - and the Seine were so cold. But now he wants me too, and he had me lay with him. He liked that, me scared a bit, or embarrassed. He used to have me dress up in the clothes he took from them he murdered and laugh at a whore in ladies ' gowns. And his knife. So often held to me. He liked it, but no. I were half afraid he should slit my throat. But no. He used to pull my hair in his fist to make me look to the right place, and go to where he likes, and he 'd tell Pa if I spoke back - well, you know me-"

She laughs uneasily. "So off is the belt, or his friends show him to keep me good. And so for Azelma, but a stupid child. I do as much as her letters as I can, and say its my fault when its wrong so Pa don't beat her, because she howls like anything and keeps us awake until Pa throws her out and she howls in the street. I don 't cry. Not no more. And on and on - I don't know years, for noFather Christmas. And then Pa drinks the money and we are thrown out and winter under a bridge. You wake up to strangers pressed on you and you don 't care for the warmth. I hate it though so I go to the Seine, and I think to go in. But it 's so cold. If they pull me alive, it'll be worse. And so..."

She trails off. Should she keep going? But she 's exhausted, and despite her best efforts, she's crying, and crying hard. It's horrible to think she lived that, now she can see it clearly, now she knows how bad her life was.

Rose listens, silent and expressionless as Eponine spills her story. And Rose is human, as much as she tries to maintain a sense of detachment to those who don't share her blood. But her heart goes out for Eponine all the same, the grip on her pen growing tighter till her knuckles go white. It was a hard life, cruel and merciless and it's no wonder Eponine is who she is.

"You can stop, if you wish," her voice is still as calm as before, her fury, her pity both buried. Fury will not help this girl, Rose is no time player and even if she was there are some things that cannot be erased. Nor will Eponine want her pity, but still Rose shifts slightly, holding out a handkerchief to the girl, her expression a neutral mask.

"Your life was hard," she continues, blinking slowly. "And much of what you have suffered through is not your fault. The blame lies in the hands of those who should have taken care of you, of those who used you and your kinder heart, and in some cases, society as a hole. And that is not an easy thing to recover from, and it won't ever be. But Eponine." She pauses, brow raised and she holds her words till she meets her eyes. "Those things were not your fault, and don't let your mind convince you otherwise."

"People tell me this, you know?" Eponine smiles wanly. "They tell me that I am not at fault. And you know, I was not the worst off in Paris. But..." she shrugs slowly, as if her shoulders bear a heavy burden she's trying to settle comfortably.

"But I want to be better. I will get better, you know? I know it ain't for me... but it is inside, you know? I don't know how to be good. I have never been good. And it didn't matter in Paris, for perhaps I was as good as any other devil. But here, everybpdy is good."

"There will always be other with worse situations," she says evenly, one shoulder rising in a shrug. "That doesn't mean yours don't matter. Don't count, or something else along those lines. You went through them, and they affected you."

She nods, carefully, her hum soft. "Wanting something is a start. But only that. You need to work towards that goal, each and every day. Getting better isn't easy, and letting things stay the same can be. And resisting that easiness can be a struggle, but it can be worth it." She can't help but snort softly at her assessment, leaning back in her chair. "I wouldn't say every one of us is good. There are plenty flawed people here."

"Gooder than me." As if that explained everything she was trying to say. "People are too quick to tell me I am wrong. I wish that they would say the good bits, even just a little bit, as well as the bad ones."
She sighs. "I will try though. I promise."

"Goodness is relative in my opinion. Everyone will have a differing set of standards to what can be classify a person is good, and often those standards can be unreachable for most. Humanity as a whole I find is not often very good."

"People are often prone to criticize too," she adds, lifting one finger though to keep Eponine on pause. "And in some cases they are correct. And so you must try and take those opinions on board, try to change the flaws they point out. And that is what I intend to help you with. Instead of letting your rage overwhelm you then and there I want you to try and swallow it, analyse it and talk to me. I'll be your sounding board, to help you sort through the thoughts."

On the grand list of things Dave is not looking forward to, this conversation his high on it. It isn't that he doesn't want to see Rose and hang around her now that they have some tentative safety, but there are a lot of awkward questions and conversations that he isn't positive she'll let pass without at least a little discussion. There are questions he has for her, a few requests too, it's just the difficulty he finds breaching those topics that holds him back.

Even with the friends he's somehow amassed, he does spend quite a few hours of the day alone. Loki is elsewhere, Clem is elsewhere and the trolls he knows are elsewhere. He has time to sit on his bed with his bird on his chest, muttering at it while he flicks through a gossip magazine and marks it like it's a test to be graded, circling things he should keep his eye on. He starts a bit when she knocks, but he doesn't hesitate in responding.

"Vaguely." He calls out. "You can come check if you want." A teenage boy letting you in his room, what an honor.

"Vaguely?" and amusement creeps into her voice even as she turns the knob and lets the door swing open, gracing him with her brow raised. "How does one accomplish that these days?"

The mess of his room doesn't even merit a look over to her, Rose used to the mess of Striders and even if she wasn't her own room looks much the same, novels flung here and there, half started knitting scattered on the floor. She is indeed the avoxes despair.

She picks her way over with light feet to sit on the foot of his bed and she buries the feelings of deja vu as she reaches a finger out for the bird, testing to see if it'll appreciate her being close, "You know, I heard they say growing boys need sunlight and fresh air," she says casually, skirting around the topics they really need to discuss and hoping he'll take it instead of turn it back around.

"Pretty damn easy, 'round these parts." His voice isn't without a measured amount of bitterness, not that it's aimed at her. He's sure she can commiserate with it, at least.

Mayor, like Dave, is a sucker for attention. The little bird wastes no time hopping across Dave's chest to perch on her finger with a quiet chirp of balls. "Traitor." Dave murmurs, tossing the magazine toward the end of bed so he can turn his attention to Rose. "They say a lot of things. Who is They, anyway? Sounds like a cult of old, rich people who think up rumors to spread around to make the masses suffer while they sit stooped in their basements huffing buttersticks." She isn't the only one who can skirt around a topic. Hell, he just ran a marathon around it.

"You'll have to tell me more about that." Later, they already have enough nonsensical talks going right now. And there's a bitterness there, one that if it was the Dave from her world she wouldn't hesitate to pry into. But this one, she's still on uncertain footing with.

She smiles, slight but a true one all the same when the bird hops over, lifting him ever so carefully and biting back laughter at it's speech. "I'm sure there's a joke about getting all the chicks here. As for the mythical they, yes that seems like a fitting description. Practically spot on in fact, they'll be quite frustrated to find out someone knows of their cult meetings and plans." It's a Strilonde art really, and she doesn't want to be the first to stop.

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Marinate in misery [OPEN]

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Warnings for child abuse, sexual abuse, prostitution

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