Venus Dee Milo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thearena2014-01-26 03:15 am
celebrityskinned) wrote in thearena2014-01-26 03:15 am
Entry tags:
Just Look at How Close We Are [Closed]
WHO| Venus and any Amis who want to join in, but especially Courfeyrac.
WHAT| Venus sends a message to all her Sponsors, and then goes to find an ally.
WHEN| Week 2
WHERE| Fourth floor.
WARNINGS| Mentions of Venus' injuries.
The gift shop has cheap, themed makeup; Venus grabs a Brainiac Green and a Vakarian Gunmetal in eyeshadow. She considers a Vantas' Blood lipgloss, then decides that she needs something a little more demure and selects one titled 'Lottie'. It's a watery pink so thin it's practically nude on Venus' lips. Thankfully, there's foundation in her skin tone.
It all looks like a joke on her ghastly face. Kankri did the best he could with the stitches, but even the most skilled plastic surgeon couldn't have kept Venus from looking completely mutilated. While mercifully uninfected, the gash bisecting her across the nose is deep and ugly and jagged, and the sutures look comically Frankensteinish. The right side of her head has gone from purple to a vomitous yellow tone, and the fading black eye looks almost slate grey. She has a distinct limp now, and when she stands one side of her body sags at the knee.
She uses only a little makeup, just enough to hide some of the worst bruising and give her eyes a little extra glitter. It's her charisma that, she hopes, will draw her beauty out from under the gore, that will make her painful to look at and yet easy enough to swallow that she doesn't have to be edited down to a mere clip.
She spends almost an hour finding the right spot, trying to analyze where she would put a camera if she were trying to get the best view of the action. When she finds a location with good lighting, she takes a seat and, looking in the direction she hopes is straight-on to a viewer, starts speaking. Her hands are in her lap.
"I hope that everyone in the Capitol knows how grateful I am for your support. Timaeus, Enjolras, Azula, and all my anonymous Sponsors - without you I would be dead, but." She waves a hand at her maimed face. "You know what they say about the stars and plastic surgery. I guess I'm not too young to go under the knife."
She doesn't let herself become distracted while she talks. She delivers her statements directly forward, making eye contact with people she can't see, smiling even as it tugs at the edges of her wound.
"It's strange, doing all this inside a museum. You might even say it's ironic, you know, laying all us down to die at the feet of history. I recognize some of this history from my world, and obviously, well, we got it wrong, because Panem's come in and corrected some of our inaccuracies. I'm noticing so much has been updated since then."
Rather, some of it's been censored, altered, turned into mere propaganda. Venus isn't the most educated person in the Games but even she can smell the fish on some of these plaques.
"I'm not much of a history buff, but I know that Panem's history was paved in blood, and the history of my own country before that. And I don't want to diminish that, because that's what you're all watching for, isn't it? You take the time to get to know each and every one of us so that you never forget who died to let you live in peace. But the part that should also be recognized is the work of the people behind the scenes."
She pulls a Sponsor canister from beside her into view. Her token, the wire and bead pendant from District Five, twinkles in the light.
"You don't have to die to make a difference. These gifts came to me when I was bleeding out on the floor. That's why I'm taking the moment to thank the people, the mechanisms we cannot see that support the people who fight."
There's a pause, and she holds the canister close to her chest.
"Anyway. I'd especially like to thank my mentors. I didn't know if you'd come through for me, especially Enjolras, because you're so new to the post." She knows that back home, viewers are watching, waiting for some announcement of love that the tabloids have declared is imminent. She lets a pause in her words hang.
But she doesn't want to say that, because she doubts that if he needs to hear anything, it'll br a grandiose declaration of affections he doesn't reciprocate. Instead she reflects on Courfeyrac's return, on walking on the beach knowing that everyone at the barricades died. She wonders if Enjolras is still stubbornly not watching, if he's holed up in his room 'reading' as a way to avoid people all too eager to fill him in on the gruesome details.
What she says is "I put my faith in you for good reason. Thank you, my friend. I won't forget it."
-/-
Once she's done making her little speech, she goes looking for Courfeyrac. With the early events of the Arena, she didn't prioritize finding him. She expects he's already allied with Marius and Cosette, and that the three of them are doing quite well for themselves.
She tells Kankri she'll be back soon, and with that she staggers off to check each room one by one. Wounded as she is, she gets exhausted after each long hallway, each chamber filled with skeletons and diagrams and drawings of ancient creatures. It takes her nearly three hours to get far enough into the fourth floor to see familiar dark curls, and when she does she's so eager to just end her search that she doesn't much bother with stealth.
"Courfeyrac!" she whispers when she sees him. She lifts her hand up, waving over a display with a les Amis d'ABC pin from the giftshop tucked between her fingers like a flower. She hopes the fact that her clothing is stained with so much blood it's easy to miss the original tiger-print pattern doesn't terrify him too badly.
WHAT| Venus sends a message to all her Sponsors, and then goes to find an ally.
WHEN| Week 2
WHERE| Fourth floor.
WARNINGS| Mentions of Venus' injuries.
The gift shop has cheap, themed makeup; Venus grabs a Brainiac Green and a Vakarian Gunmetal in eyeshadow. She considers a Vantas' Blood lipgloss, then decides that she needs something a little more demure and selects one titled 'Lottie'. It's a watery pink so thin it's practically nude on Venus' lips. Thankfully, there's foundation in her skin tone.
It all looks like a joke on her ghastly face. Kankri did the best he could with the stitches, but even the most skilled plastic surgeon couldn't have kept Venus from looking completely mutilated. While mercifully uninfected, the gash bisecting her across the nose is deep and ugly and jagged, and the sutures look comically Frankensteinish. The right side of her head has gone from purple to a vomitous yellow tone, and the fading black eye looks almost slate grey. She has a distinct limp now, and when she stands one side of her body sags at the knee.
She uses only a little makeup, just enough to hide some of the worst bruising and give her eyes a little extra glitter. It's her charisma that, she hopes, will draw her beauty out from under the gore, that will make her painful to look at and yet easy enough to swallow that she doesn't have to be edited down to a mere clip.
She spends almost an hour finding the right spot, trying to analyze where she would put a camera if she were trying to get the best view of the action. When she finds a location with good lighting, she takes a seat and, looking in the direction she hopes is straight-on to a viewer, starts speaking. Her hands are in her lap.
"I hope that everyone in the Capitol knows how grateful I am for your support. Timaeus, Enjolras, Azula, and all my anonymous Sponsors - without you I would be dead, but." She waves a hand at her maimed face. "You know what they say about the stars and plastic surgery. I guess I'm not too young to go under the knife."
She doesn't let herself become distracted while she talks. She delivers her statements directly forward, making eye contact with people she can't see, smiling even as it tugs at the edges of her wound.
"It's strange, doing all this inside a museum. You might even say it's ironic, you know, laying all us down to die at the feet of history. I recognize some of this history from my world, and obviously, well, we got it wrong, because Panem's come in and corrected some of our inaccuracies. I'm noticing so much has been updated since then."
Rather, some of it's been censored, altered, turned into mere propaganda. Venus isn't the most educated person in the Games but even she can smell the fish on some of these plaques.
"I'm not much of a history buff, but I know that Panem's history was paved in blood, and the history of my own country before that. And I don't want to diminish that, because that's what you're all watching for, isn't it? You take the time to get to know each and every one of us so that you never forget who died to let you live in peace. But the part that should also be recognized is the work of the people behind the scenes."
She pulls a Sponsor canister from beside her into view. Her token, the wire and bead pendant from District Five, twinkles in the light.
"You don't have to die to make a difference. These gifts came to me when I was bleeding out on the floor. That's why I'm taking the moment to thank the people, the mechanisms we cannot see that support the people who fight."
There's a pause, and she holds the canister close to her chest.
"Anyway. I'd especially like to thank my mentors. I didn't know if you'd come through for me, especially Enjolras, because you're so new to the post." She knows that back home, viewers are watching, waiting for some announcement of love that the tabloids have declared is imminent. She lets a pause in her words hang.
But she doesn't want to say that, because she doubts that if he needs to hear anything, it'll br a grandiose declaration of affections he doesn't reciprocate. Instead she reflects on Courfeyrac's return, on walking on the beach knowing that everyone at the barricades died. She wonders if Enjolras is still stubbornly not watching, if he's holed up in his room 'reading' as a way to avoid people all too eager to fill him in on the gruesome details.
What she says is "I put my faith in you for good reason. Thank you, my friend. I won't forget it."
-/-
Once she's done making her little speech, she goes looking for Courfeyrac. With the early events of the Arena, she didn't prioritize finding him. She expects he's already allied with Marius and Cosette, and that the three of them are doing quite well for themselves.
She tells Kankri she'll be back soon, and with that she staggers off to check each room one by one. Wounded as she is, she gets exhausted after each long hallway, each chamber filled with skeletons and diagrams and drawings of ancient creatures. It takes her nearly three hours to get far enough into the fourth floor to see familiar dark curls, and when she does she's so eager to just end her search that she doesn't much bother with stealth.
"Courfeyrac!" she whispers when she sees him. She lifts her hand up, waving over a display with a les Amis d'ABC pin from the giftshop tucked between her fingers like a flower. She hopes the fact that her clothing is stained with so much blood it's easy to miss the original tiger-print pattern doesn't terrify him too badly.
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She's a little surprised that he's come to her aid so quickly - although, she realizes, she shouldn't be. Enjolras may have strange friends but they all have a tendency to wear their hearts on their sleeves and be standup sort of people.
Literally standup, as Courfeyrac's keeping her from sitting down right now.
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But then, a little across the way, he's spotting a familiar head of unruly hair, and even though he's been told, essentially that he should not trust anyone here, he's moving in that direction almost automatically. Courfeyrac here too? Of course that cannot be. He'd rather imagined...
And he's forgetting what he imagined as he draws closer, noticing the girl his friend is helping, and oh, she looks so terrible, and so in need of help that all panic, all muttered conjugations, and even a greeting for his friend are quite forgotten in the moment.
"Courfeyrac." His tone has switched to a more professional, doctor's tone, such as he used at the barricades both now, and in 1830. "Your lady seems in need of help. Is there somewhere in this we might take her so I can do so?"
Not quite sent by the sponsors but...he'll do his best to be of help anyway?
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He's prepared to carry Venus back to their camp if need be, if she would allow it, of course, and he's so engrossed in her that he almost doesn't hear the other voice in spite of it's familiarity. He might have chalked it up to a hallucination, a peculiar wandering of his imagination due to the stress of the Arena. But the voice seems to real, so comforting, like his friend might be there, standing right behind him. At last, he whips his head around to see.
"Joly!" There's nothing calm or professional in his voice. For Courfeyrac, it is all emotional. Elation and rage, mingled together in a toxic and furious combination. Grasping Venus tightly still, he shakes his head in disbelief. "This cannot be. It cannot be. I've gone mad in this place."
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As soon as she hears another voice, her body tenses and her head whips around to the noise. She's prepared to break someone's neck to keep Courfeyrac safe - he isn't her pick to win, but she's fully intending on protecting him, even battered and bloodied.
"Ribs!" she squeaks when Courfeyrac squeezes her. "Ally?"
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Especially at seeing Courfeyrac trapped in this too. This means, a part of him points out, that there is the chance, however slim, that he is going to have to be killed by, or kill his friend. His heart is beating faster with that and he doesn't like it very much, is in fact, trying to stop it, and though he manages, partly, his hands are still shaking terribly.
"Not mad, Courfeyrac. They've...managed to get me in this too. I..." No, the patient, he reminds himself, focus on HER just now.
"Well. There is not time for that now, is there?" Then he's stepping closer, being sure not to touch either of them though he's close enough, lest the stress send one of them into a bad state now. "Mademoiselle, I am a doctor. Nearly. I can help you, I think."
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Letting his friend come in closer and take control of the situation, Courfeyrac at last has a chance to breath and really take in this twist of events. Of course, he understood it was possible that others of Les Amis might be brought into the Games, but he'd never expected to find Joly in the Arena. He hadn't even realized it was possible.
"Joly can help you, Venus." Looking back to his old friend, he continues, "We have supplies and clean water waiting there."
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All the attention is making her antsy. She stretches on her toes to see anyone Joly's shoulder, scouting for danger. "Let's get to safety. We can patch me up and give him the low-down."
She gives Joly a deeply sympathetic look. "You're in for a rough learning curve."
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"I would feel better if I knew for certain. Mademoiselle Venus." He answers, giving a nod at the suggestion that they keep moving for now. Whatever else, he's aware that IS a good idea at any rate.
"But yes, as both of you say, this is most certainly not the place for any of this, is it? Best you lead on then, Courfeyrac. And we can take proper precautions and make introductions there."
And he can stave off the fear a little longer, has to stave it off because he's needed, and now, with Courfeyrac here, he'll have some familiar protection, it seems for now.
"Ah, learning curves." Joly is adding, shaking his head a little ruefully. "This does look to be harder than most."
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"It isn't far," he explains, shifting his arm to better support Venus. With his free hand, he gestures toward the hall of fossils. "We are established near the alleged mammals."
As they walk, he at last has a decent chance to look Joly over, and were they not in an alternately stressful situation, Courfeyrac may have been moved to tears at the sight of him. For the last time he saw Joly...
No. He wouldn't think about the barricade now.
"Here we are. You see? Behind the elephant." The elephant which is, more precisely, a wooly mammoth, but whose keeping score here? Tucked away in a corner is a single person tent, a single sleeping bag which was unzipped and flattened out, and two small stacks of supplies of food, water, and medical goods. In all honesty it looks more like the dwelling of children who don't know how to properly prepare for an outdoor adventure than the encampment of three able bodied and intelligent adults. But it's protected, and more importantly, no one else has found it yet.
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She'd offer to combine their two camps, but she knows well enough that three's a crowd - it's only by the grace of knowing each other beforehand that she expects Courfeyrac, Marius and Cosette are getting along so well. Besides, noise draws attention, and groups foster paranoia.
"Cut on my face, obviously. Busted my ribs the first day in, cut on my lower back but it's pretty shallow. I've been dousing them in disinfectant and changing the bandages daily."
She takes a look at Joly's face, the uncertainty there and the way he seems to intent on focusing solely on the injury. She pulls some of the contents of the medical kit stashed back at the cafe out - a near-empty bottle of disinfectant, a big square of gauze and a roll of bandages. To share, although Courfeyrac doesn't seem to need it.
"Cut on my leg," she says, choosing not to spook Joly with the fact that it's a human bite that ripped a chunk out of her thigh. Let him ease into the Arena, just a little.
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"Gavroche." he mutters, smiling in spite of the situation being what it is, then looks to Venus to explain this, a little more. "A friend of ours at home lived in a giant elephant statue." It's a somewhat pleasant thought at least, before he's turning his attention fully back to Venus.
"Disinfecting it is good. Very good in fact." His tones there are approving. "Now, if you will allow me to see to your leg and what we might do about making this more comfortable? The swelling worries me a bit, though that is normal at this stage, and I should check..."
He's feeling for a temperature, wanting to rule out a fever or other infection derived illness. "Have you had any odd drainage from your wounds? Seeping or perhaps leaking anything? Any sort of chills or weakness beyond what could be expected from this?"
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"Who did this to you, Venus?" And what do they look like? Did she get her revenge? Courfeyrac is certain she would not have gone down without a valiant fight.
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"Blond guy, big smile, called himself Kevin. I'd like to say I took him out before he could hurt anyone else-" by which she means anyone she likes- "but he got away in the elevator after I smashed his face in against the floor. I did knock out some of his teeth, though."
Gruesome as the details are, she is trying to spare Joly from the worst of it for a little. Better he understand it in stages: first, the Arena brings fights out of even the people on your side. Second, the Arena is brutal. Third, they're all going to hell in a gaudily-painted handbasket.
She rolls the corner of the sleeping bag up so it'll prop her head as she uses it as a pillow. Unfortunately, the location of the injury on her thigh would be scandalous were it four more inches up, and despite the strange blackish bruise emanating from it and disappearing under her clothing she refuses to roll her pant leg up further.
"Can't tell. I'm coming off of a medicine, that would give me chills and make me tired too. Too many factors." Venus hasn't been able to notice that the injury smells a bit weird, as her sinuses have been maimed by her face wound, but Joly should be able to tell. It's a bit hot to touch, too. "Tell me about this elephant-house guy."
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And another one is coming as he glances around for something to clean his hands with, sees nothing, and then sets to work as he is. As far as that bruise...he's not seen one exactly like it before, though the smell is certainly, well... It has Joly wrinkling his nose in concern there.
"Ah, too many indeed. This does smell rather suspect. Some sort of poultice would be best for it, I think. I did see plant life among our mammals here. There may be SOMETHING I can use. If I had everything I needed, I would suggest leeches. It does not seem we have to think of bleeding yet. I'd rather avoid that if we could. Painful and it also would be risky, exposing another new wound to the miasmas that I'm certain must be floating around this place."
"I think that it can still be helped though, if we clean it first before I go to try and find what we might need."
"As for Gavroche," Because a change of subject is good, after all, especially at times like now. "He was a gamin, a child of the streets who was a ally and a good friend to many of us. He lived in the statue of an elephant. A monument that had been left unattended. It made a safe enough shelter from what I understand of it, especially for the innovative and intelligent as he was."
And he's pausing, looking at the wound again, and the location. "If you might, I think it may be best to have you do the washing up on your own. We can look away for that, and then I may be able to set out."
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Suddenly, something else occurs to him, and in a flash he's out of his perch and rifling through the small pile of supplies. "Where are you, you... Aha! Our savior has come!"
Grinning like a cat, he rejoins the party with a folded pamphlet in hand. "Here we are, Docteur. I cleverly snatched this up from the cornucopia, and having no need of it, I stashed it away. But I see now that this will benefit us all! It is, as you will see, a guide to the plants and herbs on display in this museum. Perhaps this, combined with your knowledge and skill, will allow for a rapid recovery to Mademoiselle."
He gives Venus a reassuring look then, reaching for her hand. "We will do everything for you, Venus. I swear it."
And he'll find that Kevin bastard and make him pay, too.
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She hates bugs and creepy-crawlies beyond any sort of rational reason and she can't even explain why.
Leaning back, she settles her head in, breathing through her mouth because of the clots of blood clogging her nose. She reaches over and gives Courfeyrac's hand a squeeze before thanking him for his foresight. "Wait, was he a little blond boy? I think he was-"
She stops.
"Nevermind. I'm thinking of someone else."
[Warning: outdated medical advice. Don't tilt your head back with a bloody nose today, kids.]
"Ah yes. He certainly was. Very streetwise, very smart in every other way too...Courfeyrac, you mentioned a guide?" The news of that is amazing, practically Christmas to him, and he'll reach over and study that in a moment.
"Your head is back already, but if you might tilt it a little more, that could help with the bleeding." Joly is also pressing a pad of some sort of cotton to Venus's nose now. "Pressure ought to help stop the flow as well."
o7
"Yes, the guide." A pleasant change of topic, indeed. He waves the guide under Joly's nose. "All of the plants in the museum are listed here. And I'd wager there will be quite a selection to choose from. Perhaps something which can ease Mademoiselle's pain and suffering."
He smiles at Venus, trying to be supportive. Then, he catches the discussion of Gavroche. "Yes, Venus. I am told Gavroche was here."
Re: o7
She looks over to Courfeyrac, then back to Joly.
"I didn't know if you knew." Her voice is soft and gentle. "They didn't bring him back after my first Arena."
Which is a nice euphemism for saying he's dead. Venus squeezes Courfeyrac's hand again - not out of pain, but out of sympathy.
Re: o7
Courfeyrac's guide, which he is eagerly accepting and delving into, does provide distraction from that topic. "Certainly there is something else here, which can prove to be useful."
Gavroche...not brought back? That is horrible, in and of itself, though, perhaps,a voice inside his head points out, better he's not in the arena to suffer what he had at home. It's not that he would not like to see him and see him well but...this place is not conducive to any wellness he is personally aware of.
"He was brave, and kinder than many would have been, who had his life." He's saying now. "Perhaps it's better he is spared this, somehow, terrible as it feels to say." And then, well, better focus on the living, right? He's delving into that guide again, with more of a surge of focus than before. He won't let anyone else die here of something that he might prevent if he can help it now.
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"Is there anything I can do to aid you, Joly? Perhaps you can tell me which plants to get and I can fetch them for you while you tend to your patient." He looks to Venus, and staying strong for her sake, decides not to comment on her state any further.
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Unlike Joly and Courfeyrac, Venus is hyper-aware of the cameras. She knows that the more they talk about being happy with something, the more they're tempting the Gamemakers to change things as a twist.
"So." She raises an eyebrow and sits up, starting to clean out the injury herself where it would probably be uncomfortable for Joly to do so. "Have Marius and Cosette hijacked the tent into a lovenest yet?"
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"Good point." He is quick enough to agree. "The tongue is not the sea, but it can drown you all the same." He would hate to see what sort of drowning the gamemakers come up with.
That next question, directed to Courfeyrac as it is, still sets Joly to snicker, a little. "Is our young Marius grown THAT far out of his shyness to discuss this then? I'd rather imagine him going miserable throughout the arena than requesting someone watch as he helps to create the beast with two backs,somehow."
And as for Courfeyrac's question, Joly IS at least paying attention to the lists, as he considers, finding a few bits of plantlife that may very well work. "Have we anything to write with? It may go faster if I just note what might work well."
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He thinks then of their viewing audience, eyebrows raised in amusement. Perhaps an injection of drama would ensure that they all live to see another day.
"They do nothing but fawn. Marius cannot stand to sleep, lest something happen to Cosette as he does. It seems that his faith in me does not extend to watching over him and his sleeping wife." He rolls his eyes, sharing a quick grin with Venus. "After all, it is not my fault Cosette kissed me."
As for the guide, they will have to make plans without a writing utensil. Courfeyrac double checks the bag it came in, and alas there is none. "I am afraid I've come up short."
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Venus, thankfully, has a pen on her in the small pack she's brought, which mostly includes collected goods from the gift shop. It's got patterns of Some on it.
"Courfeyrac, careful, or Marius is going to make hurt, unfocused puppy dog eyes at you when he sees the replay of this conversation." Her grin is mischievous, though. She's enjoying taking shots at the easy target as much as anyone.
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As far as Marius goes though,that has Joly frowning. "Still as serious a case as when we left him then." It would seem to him that the best thing to do,in that case, would be to allow the lady to win in the arena, that she never has to go into one again. Marius would pine, perhaps, but he would know she was safe,and be perhaps less of a danger. "Well, we shall do our best to keep an eye on him, to prove we might be trusted." Perhaps, he thinks, looking over the list of plants again, lips moving a little as he reads through them, remembering properties, they can induce him to sleep without realizing it. It seems that it would be far fairer somehow, to get him out of the way for a while,and to have him wake with a clear head as well.
"I have a theory on how we might make him a bit useful and get those puppy eyes focused. There are some Linden flowers here." And he's circling, using Venus's pen with a grateful nod. "And chamomile among some others. They should help us ensure he has some sleep, and the Linden can make a paste for that wound of yours as well. It should clean and bring down swelling, and we needn't do very much to have them prepared as anything. Mint, as well, there should be plenty of it...And let Marius see it later, if anything, it may help him to realize he is doing no one,least of all, his lady wife, much good like this." He's willing to let Marius see the truth, if it will help even a little.
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"I trust the pair of you can manage yourselves while I am away?"
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She stands up, trying to steady herself on her bad leg. "I think we'll be just fine. If he tries to be as flirtatious as you are, Courfeyrac, I'm quite able to resist his advances, you know?"
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"Do we have anything in the way of extra clothing, any of us? I should hate to get that cleaned out properly, and risk a greater infection from the blood."
He can't help grinning though, at the commentary. "Ah,someone to appreciate my wit, and add to it not only in words, but in speaking the truth. I think we ought to do just fine."
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Squeezing Venus one last time, he stands, patting Joly as he heads away from them. "I shall return. I will knock on the wall first. Listen for it."
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Naturally, injured or not, she's volunteering herself for the job. It's in her nature, and she doesn't think Joly would be best sent out alone.
As Courfeyrac walks away, she sits and turns to Joly. "So. Tell me a little about yourself, monsieur."
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There seemed to be some kind of sutures in the kit and that is heartening, certainly. Nothing to be used until Courfeyrac is back, but they'll be helpful. For now, he is making use of the gauze found in the kit to continue cleaning.
As far as himself...well.
"I am not quite certain where to begin, I suppose. I was a year from my degree at the Paris Medical School, and I quite enjoy reading of advances in science to begin with.
[His interest in politics and the nature of Les Amis did not seem fitting for the cameras if they were watching, somehow.]
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Men. She forgives quickly, though. Venus has let things roll off her back in less time before.
"When you get out of this Arena, I'll find you a science magazine. The developments are going to blow your mind." She smiles, the edges of her mouth disappearing into cherry cheeks. "You know, actually, when I'm up to strolling I could escort you through some of the exhibits here."
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As for the museum himself,he is not QUITE sure that he wishes to wander through it and risk anything happening, but, then again, he could do it on the guise of scavenging and gathering. "I would like that. It seems like so many things have changed, and they've done well to detail all of that here."
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"And I can tell you a little about myself. I'm from Georgia, in America. I never had a chance for higher education but Enjolras has been recommending books to me." Which may explain a little of their relationship, but not the whole of it by any means.
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Joly finds himself nodding as she speaks He does not know much OF America beyond what he knew of their revolution, really, so he is not quite certain what to ask. Something else she mentioned sticks out a bit more, though.
"That is something many women are denied still, at home. And it is something that should not be. I do not dare presume to speak for members of your sex, but I will say that my...that I know women at home." He corrects himself, lest he mention Musichetta by name, "Who have done more with what limited education they have been allotted than certain other friends at the law school. And Enjolras is a good teacher, certainly."
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Except that she is, acutely so, but why broadcast that? Especially to Capitol viewers, who likely don't give the slightest care about their Tributes' educations? It's a personal foible that she tries to keep close to her chest, like her illness and her own history.
"I'm famous where I'm from, for acts of heroics." She grins, although it looks ghastly with the cut, even stitched. "I have to say, you guys are much less backwards about women getting educated than I'd expect people from the 1800's to be."
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After all, Joly must consent, for the sake of fairness, to own what is his to own, even if it is unpleasant, even as he wishes that things might be changed that everyone might have such opportunity.
"It was the aim of our society, in part," Their public one, at least. "I am certain Enjolras has likely told you more of many of our other purposes as well." That seems a good enough way of steering around announcing that he may be trouble. "That all who are qualified may be able to access the education that they need. Why should it not be a woman as well as a man? And? As well? It is not as though women never require doctoring themselves, who may be more comforted by the presence of another woman rather than a man."
Ideas cultivated, perhaps, by long conversations on the subject, with Combeferre, but that does not mean he does not agree, merely that his fellow medical student had helped him to sort his thoughts into the proper words. "I'll say though, that we were not quite a society who held views in vogue with the rest of society, though we'd hoped to try."
"Heroics though?" And he's leaning forward a bit, with interest. While he is not quite a Romantic, he does favor this type of tale when the mood strikes. "Well, you must tell me more."
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It's a magnificent understatement, but Joly would have to be completely distracted to miss the affection in Venus' griping. In the last several months she has come to enjoy the lengthy diatribes that have become, through active effort on her part and more self-awareness on Enjolras', actual two-sided conversations.
"Well, it's all a bit complicated in the modern age, but I go out and fight people to protect the weak and small."
To get endorsements and talk show appearances and record deals. To pretend that because she had the title of a hero, her actions were justified no matter how ugly things could get. No matter how sticky the morality.
Kill one scared child for the chance to cure thousands? Where's the heroism in having to make the decision there?
"That's why when I say I'm competent, I'm not joking."
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"Do you indeed? A worthy cause I think," He added, smiling. "Still, one that takes much from those involved. You have my admiration for it, truly." As did many who fought for others, who were forced to make those horrible, difficult choices that did not seem choices at all to him. He was better off, himself, by all intents and purposes from his position outside of the realm of hero. That seemed a heavy conversation to end on as it was though.
"Enjolras certainly...knows his way with words." He settled on.
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She laughs, and it's the opposite of musical, forced and flat. "His way with words and nothing else. Was he always as bad with women as he is now?"
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Odd, though, that here, they went ahead and seemed, really to enjoy these things. Though the Capitol he heard about was different, surely humanity was humanity in the end? He would have thought it once, at least.
As far as that went, well. THAT Was something he could certainly speak to. "We did joke amongst ourselves he did not know what women were beyond some abstract image. It certainly always seemed true."
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"Maybe you and Courfeyrac should do the female gender a favor and give him lessons. As it stands he could make a career out of embarrassing himself."
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It's true, really, and part of why he's a doctor, and not, well, more in the realm of the law students. He may not have taken his final vows yet, and they may apply to medical practice alone, but well. Doing no harm is something Joly takes quite seriously, save when the question becomes one of protecting a friend or innocent from harm. Or in the cases where he's needed to do harm to be a greater help, but, no thinking of that here. Instead, he is laughing at the suggestion there.
"Perhaps we ought, and yes, I think he does at times."