#c. jean palfroix

[milaxkorshunova]

@jeanpalfroix

She promised she'd be right back.

A stop to the bathroom followed by a straight line to the bar to bring refills to her party. It was only a matter of time until the unknown amount of martinis devoured combined with high heels would result in an accident. Almost as if on cue, just as the thought passed the Russian's mind, Lyudmila's ankle twisted. Seeking support from the closest object, her fingers got hold of an arm, frame leaning on the person in an attempt to regain the balance.

"Excuse me –"

[evelyne-mercier]

Team Goodbye Paco.

“I heard that you were talking shit,” Évelyne made her presence known as she walked up to the table with exactly the people she was looking for. “And you didn’t think that I would hear it?”

@laurent--stpierre​ @varden-lefebvre​ @theo-chaussard​ @jeanpalfroix​ @codeinescenecharlene​

[evelyne-mercier]

@jeanpalfroix​

“JEAN!”

After the celebrations outside in between fights, Évelyne rushed into the room he had been getting treated in, an ice bucket with champagne and two glasses in tow. She could not wipe the wide grin off her face, still high from the surprise victory Jean managed to bag. “I thought a congratulations were in order. The champagne is for me though. The ice is for you," Évelyne half-joked, but from the looks of him, he might actually need it. 

Carefully uncorking the bottle, Évelyne poured its contents on the glass and handed one to Jean. “To your first win,” she offered a toast, “Of perhaps many?” Évelyne laughed, but paired it with a curious brow. 

[milaxkorshunova]

She could feel her heart sink to her stomach.

It took her seconds (though it felt like ages) until she realized who'd steadied her, and tightened the grip on her arm. Lyudmila jerked her hand away almost immediately creating a space between the two.

"Stay with your friends, Mr. Palfroix. Far away from me. And nobody has to get hurt."

Jean had no intention of approaching his "date" before their weekend excursion. She'd married Konstanstin Vorshevsky and was friends with too many of the Rutherfords. That was all he really needed to know about her.

Yet, it was almost Providence that she quite literally fell into him, no work needed on his part. The smile he offered her as he reached out to steady her could almost be mistaken for kind if his fingers weren't digging into her skin.

"Careful, Ms. Korshunova. You need to be steadier on your feet. It'd be a shame if that clumsiness got you hurt."

[evelyne-mercier]

varden-lefebvre​:

etiennecanet​:

jeanpalfroix​:

theo-chaussard​:

codeinescenecharlene​:

Charlene raised her glass with a sympathetic smile, to peaceful evenings like this, she thought “And that’s exactly why you’re the most sane person in the entire club, not to mention the organization,” taking a gentle sip, being far more curious about the promises placed into every little drop of amber liquid poured in front of her, “Seventeen? Maybe? Is that too high?”

“Can anyone have 17 shots without passing out?” Théo asked, a little curious as he poured himself more wine, “That sounds extremely high. Though shots are also disgusting.” 

.

“That settles it, we’re getting a round of shots for everyone. Starting with Mr. High and Mighty Wine Snob over here.” Jean smirked at the other man. “Unless you’re too much of a chicken.”

-

“Surprise, motherfuckers.”

.

“Seventeen shots is breakfast for some at this table,” he scoffed, pointedly directing his attention toward Laurent for that one, before hailing over the waitress at Jean’s suggestion for them to all put their limits to the test. What could possibly go wrong, eh? Fuck, he was old. Varden had turned to Évelyne ready to ask whether she’d need carrying out of here, much like the awards after party. Then another familiar face joined their table, derailing the train of thought entirely. Varden couldn’t help but mock him: “Did nobody tell you this was an invite only party?”

--

Évelyne doubted she’s ever had more than five shots -- in her prime -- and if she’s had more, she was no longer in a state to keep count or even recall what happened after. It was a small blessing Théo reacted to Charlene’s gross overestimation of what Évelyne can handle first -- would be a shame to falter so soon after posing the challenge herself. 

An unexpected voice chimed in, causing her to turn and see Étienne had joined them. “Ét,”  she greeted as she reached out for his hand and offered a warm smile. She was surprised but not at all disappointed with his appearance, not that it stopped her from snickering at Varden’s comment. “Actually yeah, what are you doing here?”

[evelyne-mercier]

jeanpalfroix​:

theo-chaussard​:

codeinescenecharlene​:

laurent–stpierre​:

“Wait, wait, wait…you’re here to babysit us?” Sceptical, indeed. Had it been anybody else at the table, he might’ve toed the line with more respect for the Most Respected. But they were friends, and fuck, it already felt like they didn’t have enough reasons to joke around these days. “Is that before or after you take half a shot and pass out?”

—

“Alright, alright. We’re just jesting. Don’t trap me in some elevator shooting—” she joked, knowing both the weight of her words and how little goblins seemed to be going around picking stuff up to create deaths with somewhat poetic messages. Charlene looked down at her empty glass, disappointed, “What you guys should be worrying about is not babysitters, you should worry about the ladies whose glasses are empty. Theo?” she asked, “Why don’t you pour something for Év and I? Whatever would do.” 

~~

“Because if I died, your one brain cell would die with me,”  Théo deadpanned to Jean, taking a long drink of his wine.  “But honestly  Év, glad that you’re here,” he smiled, pouring her and Charlene both a glass of wine. “Even if some people at the table are too egotistical to admit it.” 

Jean opened his mouth to argue, but simply closed it and raised one finger towards Théo instead. Turning to  Év, he flashed her the most innocent smile he could muster. “I don’t know why you don’t trust us. We’re always extremely well behaved, especially while we’re drinking.”

-

“Jean, your words are exactly why I don’t trust you,” Évelyne pointed out as she took the glass Théo poured for her, “Or anyone else in this table, really.” Raising her glass towards everyone on the table, she left Laurent for last before quickly polishing her drink clean. Putting down the glass, Évelyne set her sights next on the bottle of rum on the table. “Let me pose a wager,” she said as she started filling shot glasses with the liquor, “How many shots can I take before I pass out?” 

[evelyne-mercier]

varden-lefebvre​:

jeanpalfroix​:

theo-chaussard​:

codeinescenecharlene​:

laurent–stpierre​:

Truth be told, he was surprised to see Évelyne eventually show up at their table, but certainly not disappointed. Rather than greeting her with a smile, however, Laurent looked at each of the others with feigned confusion, before turning back to their friend, sipping nonchalantly at his drink. “I’m sorry, do we know you?”

—

“Her name’s Evangeline. I think. Or Evadne. Something like that.” she joked, perched over her chair as she bit into the olive of her bygone martini, it was tempting for her to sit back and watch. But it was set the spirits for that night would be high, and should she be so lucky, she would be too. “How you doin’ babe?”

~~

Théo almost choked on his wine at Charlene’s words, though he still gave a smile to Év, “If it helps, I wasn’t talking about you. Only Jean. And I was right about him,” he chuckled, making room for Évelyne to sit down with them. 

.

Jean flipped Théo off as he brought his cognac to his lips. “You’re an asshole. Remind me why we keep you around, again?” Despite his words, a warm smile was spread across Jean’s lips. “Hello, stranger. Are you here to have fun or did you just think we needed a babysitter?”

.

Oh, he was so glad he’d made it back to the table just in time for Evangeline. As he took his seat, he placed two more unopened bottles in the middle of the table, sourced from the French stash out in the back offices. Only the best for the snobby twat to his left. Varden slapped the back of Laurent’s head lightly, before turning to Év, gesturing toward the same seat Théo was offering. “Only St. Pierre. As always. The rest of us definitely did nothing but come to your defence.”

-

“To whose defense again -- Evangeline or Evadne?” Évelyne feigned confusion, refusing to let slide the cheek, the nerve, the audacity despite coming down to AU with the intent to make sure the ragtag group would get home in one piece. “Really, did you all think I’d turn a blind eye on what would happen if you lot come together?” Évelyne pointed out, shaking her head as she took the seat Théo offered. As much as it would pain her to admit, Jean’s attempt on a jab was on the money. 

[evelyne-mercier]

jeanpalfroix​:

Technically a broken jaw was enough to get Jean out of the Underground and to a hospital. But his pride wasn’t wounded enough to beg the Rutherford princess for release. The hospital could wait until the doors opened for the night. And so, Jean sat in the treatment room with an icepack held up to his face.

A smile would have spread across his face when Évelyne burst into the room….if it didn’t hurt so fucking much to move. He rolled his eyes and accepted the glass with his free hand before holding it up to match her toast. “To knocking the Rutherford boss off a peg.” Jean raised the glass to his lips and downed it as though it was water and not alcohol. “Which no doubt bought me a ticket to fighting Park or Daryani next time. To which I say bring it.”

-

“Okay Rocky, let’s get you back to eating solids first before you get back into the ring,” Évelyne suggested with a laugh before drinking her glass clean. “Speaking of, how’s your jaw? Are you sure you don’t want it checked properly?”

The hit Jean had taken from Johnathan to the jaw had been serious enough that if it happened to anyone else, they would have undoubtedly ask for the next trip to a hospital. Yet, Jean had already been expectant for his next fight, and the fighters he was eying next were monsters in their own right. Park Seung Hyun was a psychopath. Dev Daryani was a psychopath with a personal vendetta, against the French in particulate. Unlike Parsons, both actually fought in Lara’s ring for a living -- when everyone knew how beat another person into a pulp, sometimes the home advantage counted.

Évelyne wondered if Jean's eagerness to fight was simply due to the rush from his victory, or a need to put the Rutherfords in their place. "How did it feel inside the ring?"