thearena | In Case of Emergency

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In Case of Emergency

Who: X5-452 & Courfeyrac
When: Pre-Weapons Run
Where: Bone Barricade
What: The last two standing talking about life, philosophy, and names

It was strange being alone. Well, almost alone. Everyone was gone. Dead. Don had said they come back, but John said not always. Max had no reason to be attached to any of the group, but Pruna had been right when she said Marius was hers. They had all been hers and now they were nearly all dead.

She glanced over at Courfeyrac as she fished out her bottle of pills. They were tired, bloody, and alone. She had been raised with her unit and had latched onto the small group of French almost desperately even though she didn't show it. Swallowing a pill dry, she handed Courfeyrac her last wheel of cheese.

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Courfeyrac was tired, but beyond that, he was in mourning. He'd failed Joly before, and now he had failed Marius, his dearest friend. What plagued him more heavily though was the loss of Cosette. Cosette, who was so sweet and kind, who had never harmed a soul in her life. Cosette was dead, and it was all his fault. He'd promised Marius that he would die for her, and where had he been? Pursuing a lover of his own. It was shameful, and that only added to his misery.

At least he still had little X5-452 for company. She might not be the most social of creatures, but they'd found an easy understanding, he thought. At least she hadn't left him all alone.

"Thank you," he said, breaking the cheese in half and offering it back to her. "What are those pills you are taking? Are you ill, my dear?"

Max has to refuse the offered half; she's fairly confident that even weakened as she is, she can survive without food longer than he can. "Save it."

The bottle is shoved back into her pocket and she makes herself busy by checking their first aid supplies. "I'm...flawed. They help me control that flaw." It's a painful admission. She's not sure what to call this feeling she has for Courfeyrac, but she thinks it must be trust. Weaker perhaps than the easy trust she shared with her brothers and sisters, but a new form of trust all the same.

"Was that woman from your home?" Talking with Max sometimes needed a table of contents as her mind tended to move from one thing to the next, and she fully expected others to follow along as easily as her family back at Manticore followed along.

He stared at the rejected cheese, then took care to wrap it up and save it for later as he devoured the other half of it.

"I cannot imagine that you are flawed. You are the heartiest person I have yet to encounter." Courfeyrac spoke with warmth and sincerity, even though his expression seemed lacking. He was tired from the Arena, and still emotionally drained from losing his friends. Everything he did seemed to be steeped in mourning, even something as simple as sitting beside his young companion.

"Do you mean Cosette?" He swallowed the last of his half of the cheese. "Yes. Marius was sick with love for her when we died. And now that they are here together, they are married."

"No, on the recording. Is she your wife?"

The color drained from Courfeyrac's face and he suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "I don't know what you mean. What recording?"

Max watched his face for a lie, but aside from embarrassment it seemed he had no idea that there had been a recording of him and a woman. "You gave her something and mentioned taking a walk after. On the outside."

"Cindy." Her name was a whisper on his lips and he felt the blood return to his cheeks. Was he embarrassed? Not exactly. It was more that he was surprised that the invasion of his privacy had extended to Max's eyes.

"Her name is Cindy. And no, she is not my wife." His expression as he said that was difficult to read. She was not his wife, not even his mistress, but he felt an odd, protective and possessive feeling for her.

They had yet to study anything about sexual attraction, but Max could still read that her friend cared for the woman. This attachment was unexpected and could prove dangerous in the future (look at poor Marius and his Cosette), but she would have to wait to see how the pair interacted.

She thought again of the dead pair. "Why are Marius and Cosette married?"

Courfeyrac was glad that she seemed content to let the subject of his own romantic misadventures drop. "Marius and Cosette are married because Marius is a fool. They fell in love and he wished to make her his wife." He shook his head, eying the wrapped up piece of cheese. "He might have made her his mistress, but he was always a fool."

The subject may have been dropped but Max would not forget. Right now she was more interested in this new idea of marriage. "What is a mistress?"

Something felt vaguely improper about explaining those terms to a little girl, but in this moment, Courfeyrac found that he viewed her more as a comrade than anything else. She was stronger than he was. She could handle the indelicacies of adulthood. "A lover. They might have simply been lovers, however he wished to make her his wife."

The look on her face told that she really had no idea what he was talking about. They had briefly discussed family units at Manticore, but never any detail as to what they entailed and how they formed; they were simply civilian units that exists Outside.

Until several weeks ago, Max didn't even know if Outside really existed.

She wanted to know more. What was a lover? Were Marius and Cosette now a family unit? There were too many questions running through her head.

"Explain." Explain everything.

"Explain?" He frowned slightly, more despairing at having to be the one explaining the situation than at the content of the discussion itself. "Alright. A man of Marius' social position will need to marry and have children. But he may find that he does not care for his wife and prefers another woman, and so he may decide that he will take her as his lover. It is all very simple."

Her expression didn't change as he told her more about this marrying thing. "Why does he need a lover for children?" In her world her unit had simply always been. Sometimes one vanished or, once, was killed by accident, but their faces never changed.

Courfeyrac shook his head, fidgeting with his hands a little. "You are supposed to have children with your wife. You're not supposed to have them with your lovers."

"But why does he need another? Are children necessary for his survival?"

He hadn't expected that she would understand immediately, but he did not think he would have to explain it in such detail. "They are necessary for the survival of the family line. But that is not why he would take a lover, my dear. Perhaps he does not love his wife. Perhaps he loves someone else. Do you understand?"

Max gave a frustrated sigh, the first sign of any real emotion since arriving in this arena. "I don't understand what love is. We didn't have love and there were no wives or lovers around. Shouldn't having his unit be enough?" She knew they had to be close, maybe as close as her unit had been. Giving up that closeness for this "love" didn't make sense to Max.

It had never occurred to him that she might never have experienced any variation on that emotion, or even know what it was. How could she not understand what love was? Everyone knew what it was, even if it was only the natural love of a baby for her mother.

"A man does not have a unit unless he is a soldier. And neither Marius nor I are soldiers. We're lawyers." There was no way to confuse the two, mark his words. "And love is... the most basic of emotions, I suspect, next to fear. It is the intense connection a man feels for another. It is akin to friendship, only stronger. And it is all encompassing. And... how the devil do you not understand love?"

Max shrugged as she leaned back in a rare moment of relaxation. "It is an unnecessary emotion for a soldier." To be fair, most emotions were believed to be unnecessary at Manticore. Emotions made you hesitate. Emotions formed bonds that could hinder the mission. It was far more amazing to her that in her brief time with the group of French fighters, that they had shown so many emotions and so often.

She looked up at Courfeyrac and raised an eyebrow. "Here, everyone should learn to be a soldier."

"But we are not soldiers," he reiterated, as if that distinction held some powerful meaning. It had meant something to him back in Paris and it meant something to him here, too. He did not mean to sound dismissive, but he was emphatic on this point. "I am barley even a fighter, my darling. I would prefer to make love, not war."

"I am." She looked away from him even though her face held no emotion. "Do you hate soldiers so much?" Was he simply her ally for survival? The idea bothered her more than she would like it too, even though she couldn't fault him if that was the case.

"I do not hate soldiers. I do not hate anybody." Courfeyrac perhaps did not have that capacity within him. He was a sponge for people, he absorbed affection and oozed it out in turn. Hate had never been on his agenda, even when facing down guardsmen with guns.

"Then why do you resist being labeled a soldier? You are fighting against another. Fighting so that you survive; that is your cause, your mission. You assemble allies, fight with them, and protect each other." She liked Courfeyrac for some unknown reason. Liked him enough that she wanted to see him survive and would very willingly kill to make sure it happened.

He bristled a little at that, unsure how the distinction between the two of them was still so fuzzy. "I'm a citizen. It is not the same thing."

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