✞ Midii Une ✞ (
unetrustworthy) wrote in
tushanshu_logs2013-11-06 09:06 pm
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Entry tags:
[Closed] Il nous reste toute une vie pour pleurer
Characters: Éponine & Midii
Date: Afternoon of the 6th
Location: A Park out in the Wood Sector
Situation: Story Time with two kindred spirits
Warnings/Rating: Possible discussions of War, Death, and Loss.
Midii kept her word; the very day Éponine finally contacted her again, she was ready with her book.
It was old, yet hardly used. The outer cover showed more signs of dust than wear, and some of the pages hadn't even been cut. She'd found it in an antique shop. A collectable meant to be displayed on a shelf. The owner had probably charged her far more than it was worth...but, for once, it was a price she was willing to pay. French stories were few and far in-between in Keelai. It was the closest thing to a pleasant memory of home she would be able to find.
And now, she would have the chance to share it with somebody who understood.
She was waiting in the same place they had first met. That same park, under the same tree. Private enough for the two to share a moment together, while public enough for her to be comfortable about it. Much as the older French girl was slowly growing on her...paranoia was a deeply instilled habit she had yet to shake.
Somehow, she knew Éponine would understand.
Date: Afternoon of the 6th
Location: A Park out in the Wood Sector
Situation: Story Time with two kindred spirits
Warnings/Rating: Possible discussions of War, Death, and Loss.
Midii kept her word; the very day Éponine finally contacted her again, she was ready with her book.
It was old, yet hardly used. The outer cover showed more signs of dust than wear, and some of the pages hadn't even been cut. She'd found it in an antique shop. A collectable meant to be displayed on a shelf. The owner had probably charged her far more than it was worth...but, for once, it was a price she was willing to pay. French stories were few and far in-between in Keelai. It was the closest thing to a pleasant memory of home she would be able to find.
And now, she would have the chance to share it with somebody who understood.
She was waiting in the same place they had first met. That same park, under the same tree. Private enough for the two to share a moment together, while public enough for her to be comfortable about it. Much as the older French girl was slowly growing on her...paranoia was a deeply instilled habit she had yet to shake.
Somehow, she knew Éponine would understand.
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"Bonjour, Midii," Eponine declared. She had packed a small basket, an habit she'd developed when she spent time with Gavroche. When he would come over, she would always feed him, ask him to spend the night, and he would, in belief that he was protecting his sister, making her feel better by eating, and it ensured that she, too, ate. So now, she was doing the same for Midii, having brought sandwiches and two bottles of lemonade. Nothing fancy, but at least Midii would perhaps feel more comfortable around the older girl. Or have something to feed herself with.
"I brought you a lunch, I do not suppose you have eaten yet? If not, then I shall give you my basket and you may return it next time I see you. But I must ask how you are! I'm happy to see you again, under better circumstances."
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What she did take note of, however, was the picnic basket. It was unexpected. So very kind of her.
"I've been well, thank you."
Midii had to bite back that deep seeded sense of paranoia that came with it. After the months she had spent on the Turtle, it was still hard for her to accept kindness from certain strangers. Remembering what happened to those who had been kind to her back home. But, no, the Alliance wasn't here. She didn't work for them anymore.
Her smile was genuine, if not quite as bright as it could have been.
"I haven't eaten, actually. Maybe we could eat together?"
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Likewise, any charity given was something she was loathe to receive. Charity came from a place of pity, a place where people believed they could better their own lives by doing something for the less fortunate. They saw them as a collective, not an individual person. And Eponine? Well, she certainly did not need any pity, or help. That was her father'd game. Not her own.
"Of course!" She responded in kind. "I brought two of everything just for that reason. Here." Eponine dug into the basket before pulling out both sandwiches wrapped in paper, and the two bottles of lemonade. "Look at us, picnicking in the park! We're quite fancy ladies today."
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"I suppose stranger things have happened." She accepted the sandwich, placing the bottle of lemonade for her at her feet. The glass was cold, a bit of condensation forming on the outer edge. Opening the wrapping revealed fresh bread. It smelled wonderful. "Did you make these yourself?"
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"Not the bread. That I bought. But the sandwich itself I made, yes. I have much extra food at my home now, I find, that I shall not eat unless there is someone to eat with me."
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"It's so strange to think there is extra here. If what they claim is true." That there was some kind of War going on behind the scenes as well. "More than once, I've walked away from a meal not only full, but with leftovers."
It was practically unheard of.
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But this was a gift horse she would not look in the mouth. There was food, and she was no longer starving. She'd even gained some weight.
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There was not enough to go around.
Both true and misleading. There was food. But it was only ever distributed to those who could afford to pay for it. Those rich enough to hide away from the horrors of the Battlefield. And those who were desperate enough to embrace it for the funds it would provide a sick father and three young brothers. Too young to be soldiers themselves.
At this thought, however, Midii found she could no longer take another bite.
"It doesn't seem fair. That we get to eat...and they don't." The people they left behind, even though it wasn't by choice.
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"I believe they would want us to eat up, Midii." Did she believe it? A bit, but her own thoughts on the subject were quite different. But Midii, on the other hand, did need to eat, and she was happy to provide for her.
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"Michel would." The admission was hesitant. Very rarely did she speak about her brothers so openly. "The twins...that's debatable." A tease. Michel would always be her favorite, but that didn't mean she loved them any less. Or that they never loved and cared for her.
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Hopefully, she would live the lives her siblings should have had.
As for the two youngest... They didn't even register.
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Siblings. Family members. People who cared about her.
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"I...tried. There weren't many options for kids like me."
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Extenuating circumstances were one thing. She had held Nanashii close when riding on the back of his motorcycle, after all, because to do otherwise would have been to risk falling off. And holding those whom she had come to know and trust implicitly were another. The twins were never that affectionate, but Michel would cling to her as if he had no intentions of ever letting go. Particularly the day she left to train with the Alliance. That day, she had held her baby brother so tightly, it was a wonder she hadn't squeezed the very breath out of him.
But here, on the Turtle, there were very few people that she felt comfortable around in that close proximity.
Eponine...to her surprise...was actually one of them; a moment later, and she relaxed in the older girls hold. Allowing the older girl to wrap her arm around her petite shoulders, Midii soon rested her head against her.
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When Midii relaxed, and Eponine felt the weight of her head on her shoulder, she could not help but smile, pulling the younger girl even closer. Setting her sandwich down, she gently stroked the girl's blonde hair, the way she had always liked as a child. "You are beautiful, strong, and brave. Do not forget it."
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Her eyes closed.
"I don't feel very strong and brave," she murmured.
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"That's how you know you are," she explained softly. "it's always the things we don't think we are that we are. You don't feel brave because brave is what you are. It's survival."
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"We must survive, so that they did not die in vain."
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"What if...surviving them was an insult to their memory? They died because of me, Eponine. I can't change that. And I don't know how to make it right."
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The fact that this was almost exactly Eponine's situation did not phase her. She had Marius now. That was what mattered. Or, at least, had him here, with her.
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"If I died because of them, then perhaps not. But if they were responsible for the loss of my family..." She absolutely would. Midii had put her own life on the line for them. They meant everything to her. "Does that make me a bad person?"
Eponine had probably been anticipating a kinder, more benevolent response. Wanting Midii to realize that she really was as sweet and gentle as the older girl suspected. The problem was that it simply just wasn't true.
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"No," she said slowly. "It makes you human."
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Midii nodded gently against Eponine's shoulder. Inhaling deeply and slowly before letting the last of it out. The corners of her lips tugged upwards, satisfied that she was not going to be rejected simply for being...as the older girl put it...human.
"I don't think I'm very hungry right now." The partially eaten sandwich was left in her lap. It wouldn't go to waste, but she wouldn't force food on her stomach in her current mental state. "Maybe we could finish after the story?"
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"After the story, then. But you must give me your word, Midii, that you shall finish your sandwich." She gave her would could only be described as a concerned, maternal stern face. "But for now, we shall have our story."
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She would, too. But for the moment, it was a tradeoff. The sandwich was placed aside. Lemonade, within arm's reach. In exchange, she picked up the book she had brought. It was a little more advanced than the Fairy Tales, but no less a story she was intrigued in.
"I found this one on my last trip to the Metal Sector. Do you know it?" Her fingers lightly ran over the cover: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra.
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"I do not know it, but I am quite curious. Come! Let us read it."
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"No. I mean, you could. If you want. I'm sure you'd be great."
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Midii had no problems with taking over after a time, but for the moment, she found the older's voice to be incredibly soothing.
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"Prologue: In Which The Author Of This Singular Work Informs The Reader..."