thearena | You could be my luck

Entry tags:

You could be my luck

Who| Courfeyrac, Marius, Cosette, Joly, Max, and other invited (or uninvited guests)
What| Courfeyrac brings home a stray. Later, the campers gather to watch the nightly soap opera on the projection screen.
Where| 4th floor, near the mammals
When| Week 2, after this & this.
Warnings/Notes| N/A? No tagging order, make your own threads if you want. Let's make new CR and tag around!

Courfeyrac was waiting in the hallway outside of the mammal exhibit with his new acquaintance, X5-452, knocking out a pattern on the wall. It wasn't any sort of standard pattern, but it would be recognizable to the people he hoped were still camped out around the corner as a sign that the approaching footsteps were his and not someone coming to kill them all.

He waited for a response for several seconds before repeating the knocking, then, becoming eager, he called out to the campers in French, "You must answer when I knock, otherwise I will think you are dead. Fools."

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That smile, while small, helped Joly to see that Marius was, perhaps, not so far gone as that. Perhaps there was a way to go on from this too, and help him a bit more. In addition, it would help Joly to keep his own focus as well.

"I was sorry to hear I had managed to miss the happy occasion." He added, frowning a little at that warmth there. "What is there that might give you rest?" He asked. "You seem a bit fevered, my good man. " He remembered then, that there were tablets of a sort in the medical kit, and rummaged for them.

Were those to be used for a fever or something else entirely? There had been various preparations of willow bark and other plants used both as themselves, and then in powders that had been created for the purpose of reducing both pain and fever. Could they have so easily been put into this form? Frowning, he touched a tablet to his tongue, checking the taste of that to see if he was correct in the assumption. Yes, quite similar to some of the preparations he had made, and, if swallowed at once, they would surely not contain the taste of his medicines that many people complained of.

"I believe that these are meant to bring a fever down, if you have a full one." He added, handing Marius both the pill he'd tested, and another, to make up about the amount he estimated would be used in a powder preparation, then followed that up with a measure of water. "I cannot say they will allow you to rest easier, but I am here now and I can protect your lady, and have an eye on you as well while you at least try for that. Perhaps if you were to tell me something more of your wedding in the meantime, though I'd first suggest you lie down a bit more comfortably. This can NOT be good for you."

His tones were certainly reproachful, and certainly directed at the audience themselves. Who enjoyed watching a man driven to the state Marius was in suffer? It seemed unconscionable.

At first, Marius only watched in confusion as Joly talked and prepared the water and medicine, his companion's intentions not quite clear to him with his current slowness of mind. Once he had been offered the pills, however, a mild embarrassment tided over him. He vigorously shook his head—the movement caused him to become dizzy—and gave Joly's hand a gentle, trembling push away.

"Keep them; I am not fevered, I do not think." Just very easily flustered.

But he did shift his position, lying on one side so that his head was close to Joly and his legs pointed away. He pressed his back against the wall and rested his head against an arm, bending his knees a little to get himself as comfortable as possible.

Even sprawled against the cold, museum floor, his body was fighting hard for rest. Managing a question to leave his lips had thus become exceedingly difficult, and he slurred when he asked, "What do you wish to know about our wedding?"

Perhaps if he kept talking, he would not have to succumb to sleep and nightmares.

"Flushed, at any rate." Still, Joly nodded, because the situation might very well grow worse indeed and they might have more need of it later. He did hope Courfeyrac would manage to find the plantlife that they could use to help Marius sleep. Already the man was fighting it off so obviously. It would be nice to give him some quality of it that was, if not pleasant, dreamless, at least. "For now, I'll not press it but you need that sometime, or you'll not be any good to your lady."

At least Marius seemed more likely to rest with that shift in position there, and Joly looked about for something of a better pillow, but there was nothing much else to bunch up. Had it been Courfeyrac here, he'd have insisted that his lap be used for that purpose, but that intimacy with Marius felt as though it would somehow make the other man more awkward still.

"Well,any and everything, truly." Despite not doing that, he did shift so he could run a hand through Marius's hair a little, thinking that may soothe him into sleep. "I am told that took place here, that places beyond this horror, where happiness can be found, do exist. I would expect, of course, that she was lovely."

Protesting to accepting any form of medicine was pointless, now that Joly had brought Cosette into the equation, for it was true that he could not protect her in his current state. His silence was an agreement that he hoped Joly understood.

And it did soothe him, the stroking of his hair; it caused his body to relax further and his eyes to close against his will. A soft hum of agreement was the only sound he made for a few seconds, which he then followed with, "It was a wedding in a garden ablaze with fairy-lights. The stars bowed before her beauty, that night."

Truth be told, that minuscule spot of happiness was the only light that kept him sane under the darkness of the Capitol. And he hated himself for it; he hated that he needed her here with him even when she did not deserve the hell that was a consequence of her existence in this world. His next regret-suffused words were both for Joly and for her. "I am sorry you are here."

When people were silent after Joly had delivered some sort of admonition about their health, it tended to be a form of acquiescence, without admittance of the fact that he was right about something, as he very nearly always was, when it came to others, and his opinion of Marius's silence was that it was more of the same. That silence was met with as much of a smile as felt appropriate under these circumstances at least, as he continued to pat Marius's hair.

"Did they indeed? So I had heard before that she was something of an angel, your Madame Pontmercy." And, well, they were here, he might as well admit to something more of what he knew of her. "I do confess that when we first heard from Courfeyrac that you had found a young lady, there was suspicion you,or he, were making things up a bit. But then, you are in love."

He would be hard pressed, for example, to think of any beauty as breathtaking, and magnificent as Musichetta, even now that they were separated, for good, if he had things his way. Better she was left behind,thinking him dead, than subjected to something like this.

"I am glad for you and the lady, that you are able to fill each other's lives with that, even in an existence such as this one, and completely undeserved by either of you." As far as regretting went, well, Joly did find himself making a face, not so much at what Marius had said as the fact of the matter.

"Ah, that would make two of us then."

"An angel falsely banished from heaven's gates to partake in this eternal hell. Tell me, Joly: does an infallible God err?"

It was a subconscious reflection spoken aloud; indeed, the question, delivered in a step above a whisper, left Marius's lips long before the thought of stopping himself even occurred to him. Thus, the guilt threatened to overwhelm him almost immediately, and due to it gnawing at his gut, he curled onto himself even more, suppressing a whimper threatening to escape.

He forced his eyes open, tilted his head to glimpse Joly through his dark lashes, and blinked. He was confused by Joly's confession of initial disbelief in the news Courfeyrac had—apparently—delivered, about his discovery of Cosette. "Did you? Truly?"

Edited 2014-02-05 15:01 (UTC)

"In truth, I was not aware of the existence of any god in this world, save those who have made themselves such." Joly got out, and then, then he realized exactly what it was he had said, out loud, how he had said it, and that this could prove to be somewhat of a problem if the cameras had been on them in that moment. He needed to stop that, truly...

"Have those in the capitol not established themselves as some new form of..." No, it was best to stop that now, indeed, and change the subject instead. He had little use for gods at any rate, finding his faith was better placed in science entirely, but it did no good to begin an argument like that with Marius here. Instead, he found himself attempting to be soothing, wanting to reach out to Marius somehow.

The young man was, after all, in love, forced into something as horrible as this, and with his lady, his WIFE, at that, to boot. It did not do to be anything but comforting now, and to try to raise his spirits as he could.

"I think, my friend, that you will need to content yourself with the knowledge God is in the world we left, but we might hope that he's prepared you well for all of this.

"It seems at any rate, we've a few angels on our side, when one considers both your gentle one here, and the most terrifying one that I am told awaits us when we shuffle off this mortal coil here. One could not think either of them had fallen as we have, but then perhaps that comes of flying too close to the sun as we did there."

And well...

"You must understand, when it was mentioned that the version I received was so, well, from within Corinth. While they claim in vino veritas, I confess it to be rather more mendacitas we toss between us should said vino be good enough to do its job. But come, I am heartened to know that it is true, and we will both do what we can for her here. It may do something of some good before this has been ended, yes?"

Edited 2014-02-06 03:01 (UTC)

Marius bit the inside of his lower lip, the beginnings of fear and panic bubbling inside his chest. He wanted to agree with Joly, to tell him that he too disdained the Capitol's play at being Gods of this strange, new world, but the terror in losing Cosette—and again the vision of his beautiful wife executed at the hands of the Peacekeepers flashed before his eyes—forced him silent.

He glanced away from Joly, back to the patches of soft-edged shadows and faint light in the room. A small sigh of relief escaped him when Joly had changed the subject, and he said, "Enjolras might nonetheless be pleased to see you." Because the leader of the Les Amis de l'ABC certainly acted as if he wanted anyone else but Marius with him.

He could only pray their efforts at protecting Cosette would bear fruit. If Cosette won, perhaps she would still be in chains, but it was a prison more preferable to that saved for Tributes. At the very least, she will no longer need to suffer these gladiatorial matches far too cold-blooded for her warm and loving heart.

"Do you think..." His eyes fluttered closed for a moment; he forced them open again. "Do you think she will win?"

Edited 2014-02-09 10:40 (UTC)

When Marius's face shifted ever so slightly, Joly noticed, and he took it as a sort of warning as well as what it likely was about. Of course, Marius could not out rightly agree. Of course he could not force the man into making such an agreement in any form. Not if Marius wished to protect she whom he held most dear. If either Bossuet or Musichetta were in this Hell, he would be reluctant too, he knew, and resolved to stop attempting drawing Marius into things like this. For now. Perhaps, later, there might be a time to judge, when he had actually seen more than heard of it, but now...

The lady's survival was the paramount concern here, was it not?

As far as Cosette's winning? well.

"my dear Marius," Joly began, "We are all of us in the hunger games, I do not..."

He did not think that anyone might win. Whoever stepped out of the arena must live with the blood on their hands of at least one other, mustn't they? How could anyone win with something like that?

"...I do not see why not." He quickly amended, not wishing to doom either monsieur or madam quite yet. "We will have to work hard for such a victory, and Madame Cosette harder, I think. They would not simply hand it to her, but, perhaps that can be done."

"It must be done."

The sudden strength and insistence in Marius's voice surprised even himself, and yet he knew that he had always been determined to pull her out of the death-match no matter the cost. He pushed himself up, so that he rested on his knees and could meet Joly's eye.

He knew that Joly was a dead man. That Courfeyrac and he, and even the child that Courfeyrac had led into their camp, would likewise have to die. But his voice was alarmingly steady, and his gaze never wavered once, when he declared,

"I would become a murderer for her. I would die a thousand deaths for her."

That strength in Marius was rare to see displayed so openly, Joly thought, envisioning only a few other times in his aquaintance with the man that it had appeared, first, while defending Bonaparte the night he had made his acquaintance at the cafe, and then at the barricades themselves. For all that it was rare to see, and somewhat easy to doubt as part of Marius, the gesture of it now was still convincing, and he found himself nodding.

Joly knew perfectly well he was a dead man too, and that had been before he'd known that anyone from home was even here with him. It only stood to reason, and, in truth, he preferred it this way. Musichetta would have scolded him for expecting that he lose his life in saving her from such a fate as the arena, likely, but he knew damned well he would have done it all the same. So he understood, certainly, where Marius was coming from in his vow, and well, he was willing to die for such a cause as this.

"Then what is it you would have me to to aid in this?" He found himself asking. "How is it I might help you now?"

Marius had not expected any other response than concession, and it was perhaps because of it that he had found himself abruptly submerged in guilt. It was a brief and fleeting feeling, however; it did not occur to him that Joly would be thinking of his cheerful mistress, back in Paris, but he had convinced himself a half-second later that no one could deny that out of all of them, Cosette was the worthiest of being protected. Of winning the games so she could never experience such cruel hardships again.

He made a move to stand, but he had barely even lifted himself an inch above ground when a sudden wave of dizziness took over him. He collapsed back onto the ground, his shoulder scraping against the wall, which he leaned on to steady himself. He raised his tired eyes to Joly, remaining silent for a few seconds as his vision focused and his ragged breathing returned to normal.

When it finally did, his eyes drifted to a spot behind his companion. "Our supplies are diminishing at a hurried pace." He nodded at the small hill of food and bottled water behind them, to illustrate the point. "To begin with, we must tend to that."

Edited 2014-03-01 15:21 (UTC)

That was certainly the case in Joly's mind. Much as he knew that a woman could handle things like the arena, hell, if he had had no examples from home, there would have been Venus to consider here, she should never be forced to do so. The idea that women, and that children, like the boy Courfeyrac had located, were forced to this made it all the more repulsive, and it made Joly all the more determined to work against the possibility that either of those must be forced back into this again and again and again.

He hated the idea of the arena already, the miasmas floating around, the knowledge that they were likely to become ill from exposure to each other and linger slowly, over exposed wounds, but even so, it was different for a gentleman. No matter how he hated it, no matter what it did to him inside, it was his duty to ensure others were protected. Keeping Cosette alive for long enough to have the chance was the only possible thing to do now.

"Marius!" Joly was on his feet at once as the other man started swaying, moving right along to catch him as best he could, frowning all the while. The dwindling food and water were likely the cause of his sudden weakness, he thought, frown furrowing up his brow now. "Please. Lie back. Dwindling though it is, when was the last time that you ate, or drank? The worst thing you might do is make yourself ill from severe lack of either. " Going without a few meals was not a problem, but going without all of them? It could not be allowed if such was happening.

Marius stared at Joly, uncomprehending for a long moment, then said, almost dismissively, "I cannot remember."

There was more than a little irritation in his voice now; after all he just said, all they had agreed upon, why was Joly still concerned about whether or not he had consumed anything? He could not make himself eat, anyhow, not when his portion can be handed to Cosette, instead. He didn't care if he was weak; he could die from starvation or dehydration and it would have been worth it knowing that he had saved her.

"I will need to leave, you realize." For all his bravado, his voice cracked when he made an attempt to raise its volume. And yet he continued, "I will not allow any of you to starve."

"Then I must insist that you at least take water." Joly told him, very serious about the fact just now.

"You cannot be any use in helping Cosette to stay alive if you are not helping yourself. I realize it is a matter of resources but, we may be better off than you think. Courfeyrac has shown me a guide of some of the plant life here, a good deal of it edible. I know very little of what I might do here yet to help her. I will need for someone who has been through this hell to help. I do hate to impose that on you."

No he didn't. Not really. Not when he might help Marius instead. It was obvious he would not make it through this, but...that did not mean his death had to be as drawn out and painful as starvation.

"And I would not, I doubt that any of us, would allow the same for you. I need you to think clearly as does she. You will not be doing so much longer should you keep this up."

Marius bit on his lower lip. He understood what Joly meant, and in fact could tell a sound argument when one was presented to him, but he still could not reason the illogical stubbornness away.

So he frowned. And then he felt rather guilty of frowning at Joly, who only was looking out for him. He did not know whether there was anything he could say or do that can serve as an arena guide for Joly in return; ever since his first game his intention had simply been to protect someone else at the cost of his life. The manner of death was of little importance.

That goal was no different now. It never will be.

Finally, he let out an almost childish huff, his eyes darting to one side. "Fine."

It was clearly the stubborn factor that Joly had seen in Marius before, at the barricades, where it had served them well. Here, although he knew that they all must die, regardless, in order to give the lady a chance, he would not see Cosette witness Marius's slow and lingering death from dehydration either. Some things were simply too cruel to subject someone to. and he was reasonably sure that watching one's husband waste away would NOT make the lady's list of things she'd prefer doing if it could be prevented.

He returned the frown with a firm expression, very well practised upon patients in the past, particularly, though he'd not tell Marius this, when he had needed to work with stubborn children. Marius, truth be told, met that qualification fairly well right now, though it came as a relief, almost amusing,when he huffed his acquiescence.

"Thank you." He told him, moving to gather the water and measure some out. "And then some rest I think. You clearly are in need of both, and I can watch for your beloved now. I assure you, she will be safe."

His drooping eyes followed Joly for a while, then settled on the tiny stream of water, mercury-like in the dim lighting. He didn't realize how appealing even the mere sloshing of water inside the bottle was until it rang enticingly in his ears. All of a sudden aware of his parched tongue and dried, cracking lips, he tore his eyes away from the bottle and the temptation to request for more than what was rationed for each of them. Instead, he shifted so that he leaned once more against the wall, his eyelids falling shut.

"I believe you," he murmured, again feeling the sudden tug of sleep. His shoulders sagged a little, his eyelids all too heavy to open.

And Joly wished that he could offer more, but doing so was putting them at a greater danger, and he understood that well enough that he did not try to press Marius into taking more. Doctoring under such circumstances as this was going to be difficult, he knew, and even in Paris, there had been water enough to offer, and for cleaning.

Here, water had become so much more precious, and that came with an unpleasant sensation in his stomach, like a gut punch. He'd make due, of course, given there was no choice, but that did not mean he would not resent that fact all the same. Not that he was speaking of that at the time, only sighing in relief that he had gained Marius's trust for now.

"Good." he answered, letting his voice slide a little, into more of a rhythmic cadence, usually only used when he was with a member of his family, emotional himself, or wished to lull someone into security. " Dòmi non, Get some sleep. We shall be here when you awake."

The voice sounded almost like a berceuse to a worn down and sleep-deprived Marius, and finally he let his tiredness and exhaustion envelop him, and the other man's rhythmic assurance lull him to sleep.

He sagged against the wall, his head tilting slightly to one side. Just before Somnus took him, however, he cracked one eyelid open and glimpsed a half-blurry outline resembling Joly through the tiny slit. An infinitesimal smile formed on his face, and he managed to murmur an almost inaudible "Thank you," before his eyelids closed themselves and he drifted off to a welcome and dreamless sleep.

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