Eponine Thenardier (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gardienne) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2021-06-14 12:12 am
gardienne) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-06-14 12:12 am
Open log prompts
Who: Eponine Thenardier and You
What : Time to meet people before the mines
When : June 12-13
Where : Cell 3 or the Prison yard
Imprisoned
It hadn't been the first time people had scowled at the mere sight of Eponine, and she guesses it wouldn't be the last. Completely bewildered by the turn of events, she'd tried to run, though to no avail. Manacles had been clamped firmly to her wrists and ankles and she'd been dragged through to the dungeons with just a few harsh words to help her understand where she is.
Deposited in a heap on the floor, Eponine picks herself up quickly, turning back to the bars that are clanging shut behind her guards.
"Please. Please, at least tell me my crime."
Cellmates
Once Eponine's actually looked around at her prison, she relaxes. The beds are plain, and hard, but they're beds. And the cells themselves; in Les Madelonnettes, she'd been shoved into a dungeon with a hundred or so women. Even at home, she'd shared a tiny room with her parents and her sister. This, compared to either place is sheer luxury and Eponine revels in it. The silences that stretch through the tedious days are filled with her gruff voice, chattering about whatever comes into her head.
"It isn't so bad, you know? Why do you worry about it? There is nothing to be done to be freed anyway. In Paris, oh how bad, but here? Here there is a bed, can you imagine? A whole bed for a person, just one. I have seen only twelve mattresses for over one hundred before. This, this is not so bad."
Food, glorious food.
She's starving and eats with abandon, no matter what's put in front of her. She's the first one at the cell doors when feeding time comes, and the last one to finish sucking all of her fingers clean with the desperation that comes with being half starved. As she eats, she makes careful observances of her cell mates' habits - who munches, who saves, who shares. Those that share get her fixed, hang-dog stare; she licks her lips as she watches them devour their rations, silently begging their crumbs. Those that save their food, she ignores, or seems to at least. Instead, she scrutinises what they do with their left overs, where they hide it, and when they fall asleep or turn their back, she slips to their hiding place to try to take her fill of it.
Rec Time
Eponine doesn't ever seem to do much in the yard. She just sits, back against a wall, watching the others. It's nice to just see sunlight. Her fingers trace the dusty floor: she practices wring words as she sits and watching the others.
After a couple of days of just watching, though, she calls out to the person closest to her.
"They're so silly, you know, to give us such... toys? Do they not know we could use it to escape?"
Wild card
[I'm happy to go with the flow of ideas!]
What : Time to meet people before the mines
When : June 12-13
Where : Cell 3 or the Prison yard
Imprisoned
It hadn't been the first time people had scowled at the mere sight of Eponine, and she guesses it wouldn't be the last. Completely bewildered by the turn of events, she'd tried to run, though to no avail. Manacles had been clamped firmly to her wrists and ankles and she'd been dragged through to the dungeons with just a few harsh words to help her understand where she is.
Deposited in a heap on the floor, Eponine picks herself up quickly, turning back to the bars that are clanging shut behind her guards.
"Please. Please, at least tell me my crime."
Cellmates
Once Eponine's actually looked around at her prison, she relaxes. The beds are plain, and hard, but they're beds. And the cells themselves; in Les Madelonnettes, she'd been shoved into a dungeon with a hundred or so women. Even at home, she'd shared a tiny room with her parents and her sister. This, compared to either place is sheer luxury and Eponine revels in it. The silences that stretch through the tedious days are filled with her gruff voice, chattering about whatever comes into her head.
"It isn't so bad, you know? Why do you worry about it? There is nothing to be done to be freed anyway. In Paris, oh how bad, but here? Here there is a bed, can you imagine? A whole bed for a person, just one. I have seen only twelve mattresses for over one hundred before. This, this is not so bad."
Food, glorious food.
She's starving and eats with abandon, no matter what's put in front of her. She's the first one at the cell doors when feeding time comes, and the last one to finish sucking all of her fingers clean with the desperation that comes with being half starved. As she eats, she makes careful observances of her cell mates' habits - who munches, who saves, who shares. Those that share get her fixed, hang-dog stare; she licks her lips as she watches them devour their rations, silently begging their crumbs. Those that save their food, she ignores, or seems to at least. Instead, she scrutinises what they do with their left overs, where they hide it, and when they fall asleep or turn their back, she slips to their hiding place to try to take her fill of it.
Rec Time
Eponine doesn't ever seem to do much in the yard. She just sits, back against a wall, watching the others. It's nice to just see sunlight. Her fingers trace the dusty floor: she practices wring words as she sits and watching the others.
After a couple of days of just watching, though, she calls out to the person closest to her.
"They're so silly, you know, to give us such... toys? Do they not know we could use it to escape?"
Wild card
[I'm happy to go with the flow of ideas!]
no subject
She rocks back and forth on her heels a little, frowning. "Just because someone's a servant doesn't mean they're a lesser person, you know. And just because a dungeon is better than where you came from doesn't mean it's right to be in one."
no subject
"But she won in the end, you know? She is a rich lady now, and in love with a proper gentleman, and me? I am a street girl that says a prison is better than her life before. It is funny how it works, no? If I had been beaten as a child, would I be free now?"
Eponine tilts her head, looking Jolie up and down as she considers her.
"Were you a servant, Miss? My words have angered you."
no subject