Eponine Thenardier (
gardienne) wrote in
thecapitol2013-08-19 08:07 pm
Entry tags:
Just watching the night sky...
Who: Eponine and OPEN
What: Eponine's pondering on a rooftop. Do come and join her.
Where: Rooftop of the training centre
When: Soon after the date auction
Warnings: Eponine - so generally quite dark thoughts... and I guess any warnings anyone else cares to bring with them.
At home, when Eponine had to think, when she had a lot on her mind, she walked. She walked and she walked sometimes, wandering the dirty streets of St. Michel until she reached the wider roads where the houses didn't bear down on her, and she could see the stars. She had a particular ditch she used to make for, a deep one, sheltered from the wind, and without too much mud in the bottom, cushioned as it was with grass. Sometimes, her nights in the ditch were the happiest she had had in a long time. She liked it at night better than the day; the streets were empty. There were no jeers or stares or catcalls, and she could talk out loud without people pointing her out as 'mad'.
She likes to walk in the Capitol too. Usually. She knows the place well by now, a year on. She knows the shortcuts and the places to avoid. But the stares - the stares she hates. She needs to walk now - there is so much on her mind after the date auction. Why she was strapped down for a start, but Howard and Marius too... and had that rock man really called her beautiful? She needs to walk... but at night, she is not allowed out of the Tribute tower - and she does not want to be shot again, so sneaking out is impossible. So she does the next best thing. She goes up to the garden on the top of the Tribute tower. Helping herself to an ever-blossoming lily, Eponine settles in the grass. Bringing the lily to her nose, she breathes deep, and just watches the stars. So beautiful... Slowly, in her croak, she begins to sing softly to herself.
"Mon ami me délaisse, Ô gai, vive la rose, Je ne sais pas pourquoi,Vive la rose et le lilas. On dit qu'elle est plus belle,Ô gai, vive la rose, Je n'en disconviens pas, Vive la rose et le lilas."
[Translates as My boyfriend dumped me, oh joy, long live the rose. I do not know why. Long live the rose and the lily. They say she is beautiful, oh joy, long live the rose. I do not disagree, long live the rose and the lily.]
What: Eponine's pondering on a rooftop. Do come and join her.
Where: Rooftop of the training centre
When: Soon after the date auction
Warnings: Eponine - so generally quite dark thoughts... and I guess any warnings anyone else cares to bring with them.
At home, when Eponine had to think, when she had a lot on her mind, she walked. She walked and she walked sometimes, wandering the dirty streets of St. Michel until she reached the wider roads where the houses didn't bear down on her, and she could see the stars. She had a particular ditch she used to make for, a deep one, sheltered from the wind, and without too much mud in the bottom, cushioned as it was with grass. Sometimes, her nights in the ditch were the happiest she had had in a long time. She liked it at night better than the day; the streets were empty. There were no jeers or stares or catcalls, and she could talk out loud without people pointing her out as 'mad'.
She likes to walk in the Capitol too. Usually. She knows the place well by now, a year on. She knows the shortcuts and the places to avoid. But the stares - the stares she hates. She needs to walk now - there is so much on her mind after the date auction. Why she was strapped down for a start, but Howard and Marius too... and had that rock man really called her beautiful? She needs to walk... but at night, she is not allowed out of the Tribute tower - and she does not want to be shot again, so sneaking out is impossible. So she does the next best thing. She goes up to the garden on the top of the Tribute tower. Helping herself to an ever-blossoming lily, Eponine settles in the grass. Bringing the lily to her nose, she breathes deep, and just watches the stars. So beautiful... Slowly, in her croak, she begins to sing softly to herself.
"Mon ami me délaisse, Ô gai, vive la rose, Je ne sais pas pourquoi,Vive la rose et le lilas. On dit qu'elle est plus belle,Ô gai, vive la rose, Je n'en disconviens pas, Vive la rose et le lilas."
[Translates as My boyfriend dumped me, oh joy, long live the rose. I do not know why. Long live the rose and the lily. They say she is beautiful, oh joy, long live the rose. I do not disagree, long live the rose and the lily.]

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Modest Pruna was not.
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Eponine was shocked. Not at the idea of murder, but - "But you are a child! How is it you are big enough to murder a man? Did they not struggle against you? It is not a good lie, I think."
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"Being small do be helping because they do no even be noticing you." She pointed a finger at Eponine.
"I do no be being a liar!"
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Eponine didn't seem at all perturbed by Pruna's actions - didn't even notice. Her eyes had shifted from Pruna to fix on one of the bushes behind the girl, and she twirled the lily absently in her hand.
"You could not even reach a man's throat, Mademoiselle. How did you kill them?"
She was casual, unperturbed. Eponine didn't like murder - but she was equally desensitized to the idea of it - though admittedly, her own deaths in the arena had disturbed her - especially her last, being munched alive by R. But they weren't talking about that so Eponine remained unbothered.
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She reached out to point at a spot on Eponine's knee, "Or about there, there do be a place that if you do be hitting it just right even the biggest man will be falling down."
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"I... I supposed you could. But... Mademoiselle? Do you like to have your life like this? Would you rather not wear a lovely dress and have a cat and a doll to play with? That is a better life, I think."
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"What do a doll be being?" She asked first.
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"Oh, but they are so lovely - it is as if you have your own little girl, or a little boy, and you might dress them up and comb their hair and put them to bed and smack their bottoms when they are bad. They are not real, you see? You play the game in your head. But you hold your dolly so -"
She arranged her arms in a simple cradle, balancing her lily as if the bloom was the baby's head, and the stem it's body. She stroked one of the petals, and bent her head to coo at the blossom, before looking back at Pruna.
"You see? You would have a real doll here, not a flower... but I do not have a dolly. I had one when I was little, but she was lost a long time ago, Angelique. I always wanted one, like the old man gave Cosette, with all the skirts and the lovely hair, and the boots on her feet, and the real eyelashes - but no."
Eponine missed dolls. She missed childhood. And even 'grown up', she still dreamed of that doll that had started her troubles. So she probably sounded a bit overeager as she continued to nurse the lily and chat.
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Why would you play a game? With something that wasn't real nonetheless. She wondered if Eponine was perhaps a little mad.
"Who do Cosette be being?"
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She noted Pruna's expression, shrugged and dropped her hands, and the lily, with a sigh.
Of course she wanted to know about Cosette. Of course she did. Everyone wanted to know about Cosette. She bent down to pick up the lily, trying to compose her thoughts. How to describe Cosette. The girl who has everything that Eponine ever wanted.
"Cosette... she was a child who lived with me. Her mama was a bad lot, and so was Cosette. She was always sneaking and taking my things, and Azelma's. She's my sister. And then a man took her away and gave her a doll and now..."
She smiled a bitter smile. "She is a grand lady in Paris, and I am a gat. It is the way of such things, no?"
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"So the doll did be making her a grand lady?" She was a little confused, thieves didn't become grand ladies, at least not as far as Pruna knew.
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Eponine had had toys. Not many, it was true, but more than most children she knew. She had loved her toys.
"No, the doll did not make her a lady. The man did. I do not know what happened to her. She was taken away and I did not see her for maybe ten years - ten years! And then we had changed over. She stood in the beautiful dress as I had done when we were little, with her hair curled, like mine used to be, and I stood in rags and no shoes, with my hair... well, that is how she used to be when she was the servant."
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"So he did be taking her away and you did be changing places? Do you be being her servant now?"
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Someone who didn't have sticky fingers. Someone who didn't loathe her for everything she had and everything Eponine had lost. Eponine tried to work out what she was saying, so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn't even register Pruna shaking her head.
"I am just another girl she sees on the street - but she does not see. She looks through women such as I. In my country, people like me, we do not matter. It is only when you have money, like Cosette, that you matter."
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It was difficult to explain to a child - or to an adult, really. She wasn't good at articulating her feelings.
"I do not want to be renowned as a thief or a murderer, Mademoiselle Pruna. Is that really what you would like to be known as? I would just like... oh, what the hell? It will never be, so there is no use in thinking it."
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"What would you be liking? If you do no even be thinking it it will never be happening."
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She shrugged shyly. "I would like to..." She can't even say it. It wouldn't happen. Not now, especially not now.
"I think I would like to eat some ice cream."
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She wrinkled her nose, knowing that Eponine hadn't told her the truth but then she grinned, "We should be going and getting some!"
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She doesn't like those, though she's getting more used to them after a year. But perhaps Pruna, from her strange world, knew how to get past them
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She thought for a moment, "We do be eating here though, so there might be food in the kitchen, I bet there do be being ice cream there and we do no even be having to be leaving the tower."
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Eponine grinned an impish smile, and held her hand out to Pruna.
"I do not care about trouble, if you are willing to risk it, Mademoiselle. Shall we?"
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She grinned at the older girl. "You can just be calling me Pruna, or Ash."
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Still, she lifted the heavy latch on the rooftop door, and held it open for Pruna to slip inside, before she followed.
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