Another accidental video - re-entry with a new canon point

[makeflowersgrow]

[Dirty fingers brush over the NV screen when it switches on, leaving bloody streaks across the screen. The whole video is vibrating; as the fingers move, a view of the Newcomer apartments from the baseball diamond is clearly visible. Whoever is holding the NV is clearly a newcomer and clearly in some kind of trouble.

After a minute, there's a shallow gasp and a moan; the voice is high pitched, obviously a girl's. The NV falls, and goes black; it's camera down in the dirt. But it lasts only a minute. The owner of the voice goes to pick up her NV, gasping in agony as her hand curls around the device. It's obvious why; there's a hole shot clean through her palm and out of the back of her hand.]

Marius? Marius, where are you?

[The voice has a heavy French accent when she speaks, and just for a minute, Eponine's face comes into view. It's dirty and tear stained. Her hair is a mess, greasy and tangled but that is the least of Eponine's concerns. She's forced herself into a sitting position, and one hand she presses to her chest, - a chest which is bleeding profusely. She gasps again, and sinks down onto the ground and out of sight of her NV.Without anything to support her weight, she can't keep herself upright any more. She knows she's dying, and tears wet her cheeks. She feels sick and dizzy and the world - wherever she is, fades in and out. She needs to see him before she dies. Her breathing is getting more and more shallow. She has to ask his forgiveness.]

Mariussss...

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video

[fitofgrandair]

[The days since returning to the Port having been rough, Grantaire has been particularly lax about remembering that his NH exists. When he does recall, seeking distraction, he watches the girl's entry in silence, unable to discern what has happened, recognizing only that there is tremendous pain and a resonant longing that leaves him shaken.

He doesn't know when this entry occurred or whether she will be able to receive response--he assumes yes, still scarce able to believe that anyone truly dies here--but makes the attempt.]

Lady 'Ponine? You must say that you yet walk this wayward world.

Re: video

[makeflowersgrow]

[It's hours and hours later before Eponine answers, but answer she does. She's in a sterile-looking bed; her chest, what little is visible right up to her neck and down her arms is brown with iodine, and her chest and her left hand are well bandaged with clean white linen. She doesn't look happy; her face is streaked with tears, but she's not crying now]

M'sieur Grantaire. I am still alive.

[fitofgrandair]

[Well, good. She is here, at least. Grantaire isn't certain to what extent this is a relief or how far he cares--he doesn't really know this girl, and isn't certain how far life is to be desired or lauded--but some of the heaviness has lifted from his mind.]

Then we may count ourselves fortunate to be yet blessed with your presence. Are you--Where are you?

[makeflowersgrow]

Blessed, M'sieur? I do not think so many people will be pleased to see me.

[She smiles anyway though] I am in the hospital. Hitsugaya, of all people, brought me here. Though why, I do not know. I should have thought he'd be glad if I died.

[fitofgrandair]

Ah, Ponine, then you must say to hell with people and proclaim your use to the world.

[The name that she gives is unfamiliar, but this isn't the time to ask.] Are you allowed visitors, Mademoiselle?

[makeflowersgrow]

My use? Pickpocketing and theft, M'sieur. Watching out for the police - these are my uses. Although, I shot a gun. At the barricades. You didn't know it was I, did you?

[She smiles, charmed at the idea] You wish to visit me, M'sieur? You may, if you like - if it will not inconvenience you?

[fitofgrandair]

[That does surprise him, and he cocks his head, caught for a moment on the barricades and what had--and had not--happened. The supposedly earth-shattering changes that had occurred while he drifted, unaware.] I did not. Dangerous place for you to have been.

[After a brief shake of his head, Grantaire smiles.] If you like, you may tell me more shortly. I will be there, m'lady, as soon as I am able.

[With that, he's gone, starting toward the hospital with images of the final day in Paris swimming through his mind]

[makeflowersgrow]

[When he arrives, he'll be shown into a small, private room, which has just Eponine's bed and a load of machines blipping round it, measuring - goodness knows what. Eponine is obviously in the bed; almost naked save for the blankets on her legs and the bandages about her chest and on her hand, and her few possessions, a pair of too-big boots and a coat and a pair of pants and a belt, lie on the chair nearby. She looks exhausted, and paler than usual. But she still grins when she sees him]

How nice of you to come, M'sieur.

[fitofgrandair]

[Two and a half weeks in the port have allowed Grantaire plenty of opportunities for exploration (necessitated, of late, by his lack of housing), and it doesn't take long to locate the hospital or find her room. The girl appears impossibly small, covered in bandages and connected to who-knows-what contraptions.]

And how kind of you to share your company, Lady 'Ponine. [Approaching, Grantaire takes her hand and kisses it lightly.] It is good to find you living yet; the world, perhaps, is not entirely cruel. [As if life were a sign of some sort of softness or mercy in the world, but Grantaire keeps his voice free of irony.]

[makeflowersgrow]

I am still not a lady, you know? Perhaps it is better this way... if I were a lady, I would not have been able to save M'sieur Marius.

[She shifts a little, uneasy to be back in Grantaire's presence in such a state]

You may sit down, M'sieur. Put my things on the floor if you wish; I do not mind. And tell me - did you win your fight? Is Marius still alive?

[fitofgrandair]

Not being a lady so-designated by any social circle, you may be better equipped to act as a true lady. However a true lady may be defined.

[What does she mean about saving Marius? Puzzling, he takes the seat, setting her clothing on the floor (and what odd clothing, suited to an urchin of the Parisian streets) and wills himself not to laugh at the thought of whether the fight had been won.]

Why this sudden interested in the fight? If you were at the--

[And who had lived through the fighting? If this girl had been present, could she somehow have lived through it? The suspicion had played at his mind since Eponine mentioned the barricades, but only now does Grantaire fully comprehend that she might and perhaps must have died in the fighting, as well.]

What has happened, Eponine?

[makeflowersgrow]

I was shot, M'sieur. When the soldiers climbed the barricade, they aimed at Marius - I saw; I was there, fighting, though none of you noticed me. And when I saw that - well, I do not know. I climbed as fast as I was able, and I pushed him and put my hand on the gun - but the soldier shot and it went through my hand and into my chest - and I lost my grip and fell. I knew I was dying even before he shot me - but then I landed here... Truly, I do not know what it means.

[fitofgrandair]

[Oh. Then.

Either the girl is delirious, or something odd indeed has occurred. How could she have arrived here directly from Paris if Grantaire has already encountered her? The question plays at the back of his mind, but more immediately he comprehends her actions and what they suggest. That for all of her vacant-seeming chatter about Marius, she had given her life for his, without hesitation and without knowing why or even that she was acting.

Grantaire reaches again for Eponine's undamaged hand, squeezing it softly before looking directly into her eyes.] Let it never be said, Ponine, that you did not love fully. Let it never be said that you lack valor. And know that if ever lived a woman who deserved to be titled "Lady," it is you.

[makeflowersgrow]

[And that is all it takes for Eponine to burst into tears all over again. Nobody has ever said anything so nice to her in all her life. She bites the inside of her bottom lip, though she smiles, and she lifts his hands to her lips to press a kiss on it.]

You are too kind, M'sieur. I am a bad girl, really. Marius would hate me if he knew... but I thank you all the same.

[fitofgrandair]

[The tears discomfort him slightly, but he continues to watch her, almost marveling.]

Take greater heart in yourself, 'Ponine: we are all of us rotten in one way or five others, but there are few who ever feel such love. As for Marius, I deem him incapable of hate, and should say you've no call for worry on that count.

[makeflowersgrow]

You do not think? That is good! Good, yes.... Even though I lied to him about Cosette? I just...

[She shakes her head]

it was wrong. I thought, p'raps, he'd love ME if he could not love her. I was wrong, though. He did not notice me, even when I was shot for him.

[fitofgrandair]

C'est la vie, non? Some are blind to love, and some are turned toward other interests. There is no law that deems all fond feelings reciprocal. [He smiles slightly, an expression with a sharp but muted edge of irony.] And just as each of us is rotten, each of us must lie. That is life: to lie, to love, to fall. We are blinded at all turns... [A shrug.] And at times we believe that we may change what is in truth immovable. Are we to be blamed for our stubbornness in pushing against the unchangeable?

[makeflowersgrow]

[She does take heart at his words somewhat, and she looks a bit more positive as she reflects on Grantaire's speech.]

I do think we can be blamed, though... Yes, when it is that we try to hurt people. I WANTED Marius to die... I just wanted to die first. It is selfish, no? But now that I know I will die if I go back to Paris, I find I just want him to live with Cosette and be happy. If we all die, he will forget us soon.

[fitofgrandair]

And we all do, don't we?

Wishing death on Marius certainly wasn't very charitable, and it is an odd blessing you now offer this Cosette. Sometimes, we must live with pain. Or simply cease to live. I rather doubt that Marius' death would have improved any situation.

Even so. We err. Some say we learn. And even in death, it seems, we live.

But what do you mean, if you go back to Paris? Is such a thing possible?