ataraxion | video of extremely good life choices. this time with the right link.

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video of extremely good life choices. this time with the right link.

( this jump brought a few unexpected things for ilde; mementos of her marriage (the sentiment of keeping everything she wore on her wedding day; the somewhat more realistic picture of what brought them together in the form of some racy pictures of her strapping british husband in his prime), a confusing photograph of girls she doesn't think she knows with the handwriting of a man who should be dead dated years into the future, poetry books she's missed having at hand ... alcohol she's missed having at hand. there are conclusions to be drawn. most of them can wait.

she has a two-thirds full bottle of a respectably aged calvado, and just poking into the frame is an enormous feather of something that's been set down on the table beside her; looks like her room, although at this angle, it could be anyone's. there is quite the uniformity to them. )

Courtesy Daddy, I intend to have a well-deserved drink and I don't intend to become one of those women who drink alone in the middle of the afternoon, which means I require an accomplice. Apply within.

( ilde is one of those women who drinks alone in the middle of the afternoon. )

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( considering she nearly killed someone just a scant few weeks ago, elizabeth could use a drink herself to put the matter from her mind. but seeing ilde like this lends a whole other purpose to her desire to join her. her cheeks are rosy, and there is a small smile on her face, but ilde knows her, as she has in turn come to know ilde.

something is up. and this is her time to be there for her friend, instead of the other way around. )

I am happy to volunteer my services to you, Ilde. Where shall I meet you?

( it might be arrogant of her, but by this point, they're close enough that she assumes that she can skip the application process entirely. )

( occasional pangs of conscience about being some form of influence on this girl are generally observed mildly as they float by, and this is no exception-- )

You can just pop by. ( her room, she means. ) Oh, I've got some things here you might like, actually.

( there are many things elizabeth might be concerned about at the moment, but that would be the least of them. )

Then I shall. ( she won't be tarrying. but she does pause a moment before setting off, curious. ) I am piqued now! I am eager to see these things.

( and with that, the click of her footsteps on the metal of the corridor floors might be heard. a whir of the lift, and then in no time flat, the feed is cut exactly as she knocks upon ilde's door. elizabeth is nothing if not punctual. it is rare that she is able to provide comfort for another; and it is best not to waste time in doing so. )

[ There's no actual message. Just the tinny sounds of "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by the Rolling Stones transmitted through the feed.

Helping. ]

Edited 2014-12-12 11:09 (UTC)

( sympathy for the devil is not usually played with a cello, but for you, chuckles. )

( some of what she was probably talking about is laid out on the bed that elizabeth used to sleep in, before she moved out again and ilde turned into a sort of improvised sofa; the gown, the hat. the slip and robe. the shoes and undergarments are all still in the (wooden) box that she's been keeping them all in for years, now, with soft paper and packets of moisture absorbing crystals, along with the diamond and seed pearl choker she's worn on a few occasions since, although never when she and jasper weren't speaking and only on his arm.

the books are out, too, and while most of the handwritten notes that gervase sent to her are currently in xenogen's possession, she does have enough of them left that she's had them out to stare at his photograph, bewildered, and try and make sense of how she's pretty sure it does match, even if she's not some kind of secret fucking handwriting expert. the rest of the photos are under the lingerie in the box and she hasn't noticed they're there, actually, so this could be about to be hilarious. )

Come in, you.

( given permission to enter, elizabeth does so at once. once again she realizes that she has not seen her friend in far too long—and ilde is not the only one. she has not done right by them of late, but she vows silently to rectify that fact, beginning today. and with regard to her own pain, well. she feels more at ease just being able to look upon a friendly and familiar face, of one whom will not judge her.

for the moment, her gaze is reserved for ilde alone, as she moves forward without a word to sit next to her upon her bed and draw her into an embrace. after a little while, though, inevitably her attention shifts, and her eyes grow wide at the things laid out before her. the ship has most certainly been kind to ilde this time. or has it? there was a reason, after all, for the invite.

she glances back at her friend quietly. )

I am glad to see you, dear friend. ( more than she might know. and because of that, she asks: ) Shall I pour the drinks?

( the ship has been complicated to ilde, as it usually is. her face is fully healed, but the bounty of sentimentality is contrasted rather sharply against how recently she was still cautiously not opening her mouth too wide - some of that lingers, subduing an already understated woman. she's never been the most expressive person in the world, or the loudest, for all that she is terribly edged. )

By all means. You know, ( as she hands the bottle over (christian drouin, couer de lion, 1963) along with glasses, ) he still thinks I didn't know about the cabinet this came from.

( elizabeth takes hold of the glasses and bottle and pours the liquor into both until they are full before handing one glass to ilde and setting the bottle aside. glancing down at it, her expression becomes one of bemusement. )

Is it his wont to get into his cups often? ( it certainly wouldn't be out of place for a man, given her experience. lizzie stares at her glass a moment, then takes hold of it and raises it in the air to make an impromptu toast. )

To men who merely think they can hide things.

[So is Eponine, what a coincidence!]

I should like to join you.

[ Marcus hasn't been here long enough to learn to doubt that a familiar face belongs to a familiar person, but even if he had been—definitely Ilde. Or his hallucination of Ilde, which is still a welcome break from his hallucinations of strangers and strange places. Even so, the first thing he says is, ] Ilde? [ with faint disbelief, because that's what people do in these situations.

He prefers not to do what people do. He blinks a few times to clear his head (He's looked better-rested. He's also looked less nicotine-withdrawn and less reluctantly sober.) and doesn't let the question lie in wait of an answer. ]

How competitive is the applicant pool?

( amiably-- ) Maybe next time. Who're you?

Next time.

[with pride] My name is Eponine Thénardier.

( oh, she's french. great. )

Ilde Knox.

[But she's the best French. Dead French.]

Pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle.

Marcus, what the fuck--

( is a slightly unfair response, because although 'assuming that this is somehow his fault' has historically served her very well, she is objectively and already aware that he can't be at fault, in this instance. yet, anyway, jesus, there's not a leash tight enough to keep him out of trouble on this ship. )

Where are you?

( dead french are only preferable because they can't talk. )

Madame, if we're being formal.

[She inclines her head.]

Madame, then.

( with a wry tilt of her own glass-- )

To alcoholism.

( which wasn't actually identified as a disease until hundreds of years after elizabeth's time, but whatever, that just means this doesn't have to become abruptly awkward. ilde is fond of dropping anvils and then skipping away from them, in conversation, and all the better if they don't actually have to be discussed.

she gestures to the clothes, the jewelry-- )

I got married in those. A few months after I met you, sort of.

( the first time ilde sent out invitations signed mme jasper knox was probably the last time she got to be called mlle anything; you'd think she'd dislike the french less given how long she's lived there, the fact she was born in calais and it's actually her first language. and yet. )

I didn't know there were any countrywomen on the ship.

( her mother considers her french, even if she doesn't. )

( elizabeth has no clue what 'alcoholism' is exactly, though it does sound like a disease to do with wine, or the like. in the end, her assumption is close enough that she lets it go, and clinks her glass softly against ilde's before taking a sip.

then she glances back over at the fine things the older woman has laid out, and gives a subdued smile. )

They are beautiful. Your taste remains impeccable as always.

It was ballsy, ( a little wryly, touching the tailored gown with fleeting affection - a long slim column, of the deceptively named 'stretch-crepe'. ) I was carrying twins when I wore this. Only a couple of months, though.

( she'd been very young, she thinks. younger than she'd thought she was at the time. isn't that always the way? her marriage has never been what either of them thought it was going to be - they really did try, at the start. nowadays, most of the time, it just feels like it's easier not to go through the hassle of being apart. )

I believe it is just me. But I came with others. The finest Frenchmen I know. Perhaps you have met them? M'sieurs Prouvaire, Courfeyrac, Bahorel, Feuilly and my dear Michel Combeferre.

[ What the fuck, where are you— ]

Indeed.

[ He'd been briefly concerned that he'd been picked up, for reasons he didn't quite go so far as to consider, before the angry Scotswoman got away with threatening terrorism, something about wolves and dragons, Mumbles the FAQbringer, a hostage situation, pointless moral debates.

Perhaps this is France. It is a little bit how he's imagined France, nowadays. ]

I took the 'blue lift' to the 'Passenger Quarters'. [ He doesn't do air quotes, only an eyebrow thing with equivalent skepticism. ]

Edited (more specific skepticism) 2014-12-13 17:32 (UTC)

I can't say I'm acquainted, no.

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