accepted to ataraxion ; novel canon C:

[tables]

There have been many ideas in the history of man, but this is one of the poorest I have ever encountered.

[Marius frowns to himself.]

I am not a prisoner to a host that I have never met, nor will I be treated like an animal. We have fought to rise above such oppression. Past that --

[Pause.]

What will become of Cosette?

Comments

[untamedantinous]

If it is a prison, it is like none I have ever encountered.

[tables]

You are an expert on such matters.

[It would ordinarily be said with something of a tone, but Marius can't quite manage it in the face of what happens to all of them.

How cruel it is that he, the one that chose to join, is the one that survives.]

[untamedantinous]

A poor lawyer you will be, if you do not know them well yourself.

[For his part, Enjolras just sounds tired, and a little confused.]

Who is Cosette?

1/2

[tables]

A good attorney spends time within prisons to counsel, not to enjoy the stone walls and chains.

[It's said as if Marius has said this a billion times before, but something causes him to look at Enjolras a little oddly, because how could any of his friends not know about -- ]

[tables]

[ -- and Marius sighs to himself, because nevermind. Enjolras isn't going to care, but he asked, so Marius will answer.]

My beloved.

[That he will never see again, or so he believes. She's gone from France forever and Marius will just have to deal with the consequences of his decisions.

Be it surviving or dying in a sewer. He's not sure which, yet.]

[ex_gutters95]

Perhaps a prison will be beneficial for you.

[tables]

[His jaw tightens.]

Perhaps a lesson in the compassion of humanity will be for yours, Inspector.

[ex_gutters95]

I believe in compassion — for those who deserve it.

[tables]

Every human being on this planet deserves some amount of compassion.

[It's said fiercely. What is there to fear? Javert, as far as Marius believes, is already dead.]

[makeflowersgrow]

[Cosette. That girl again. Eponine bites her lip. He thinks only of her; it is no good. And yet - yet, she cannot help herself. She moves closer, as quiet as always in her bare feet]

M'sieur Marius! It's...[She dithers, trying to think of something poetic to say] You are here.

[tables]

[ -- ah, it's the girl. And Marius offers her a spare smile, polite as always.]

I am.

[He holds his hands slightly apart, gesturing to himself.]

In one piece, despite the government's best efforts.

[That piece is said somewhat bitterly, but there is only a trace of it in his tone.]

[makeflowersgrow]

That's - that's good. Very good, M'sieur.
[Eponine cannot contain her smile, despite his rather cool reception of her. She comes a little closer.]

I am glad you are here, you know. There are ...others. But you - I have watched, you know. I see things. And never do you come. But you've come now and - oh, how lovely, M'sieur.

[tables]

[That catches Marius' interest and the young man steps forward slightly, brow furrowed.]

What things, Éponine?

[euphrasie]

[ oh, there you are. she peers around the corner. ] What of me, Marius?

1/2 SCREECH

[tables]

[ oh what

are

words]

[tables]

[askjhgsd]

-- I have missed you.

[It's soft as he stretches out a hand, to gently brush his fingers against hers.]

if you don't mind i'm just gonna cling here

[euphrasie]

[ there is a twinkle in her eye when she meets his gaze and she reaches for him, a hand around his, the other lightly touching his arm. ]

Have I been gone for very long? [ a laugh. ] But I suppose I ought not to question. I miss you when you leave a room.

stay forever and ever

[tables]

You have been gone long enough.

[He squeezes her hand gently, almost desperately, because her touch can be so fleeting. One moment she is there and the next Cosette is gone, on the wind -- escaping from whatever demons that her father feels he needs to flee from.

But her laugh causes an instantaneous smile to appear on his lips, and then a grin, and Marius has to laugh as well, because what she says is true.]

Though I must point out -- missing a person once they leave the room is a little inconvenient.

hi have another eponine

[roseoftheunderworld]

[That awkward moment when the person you sort of tried to kill in a brief moment of insane jealousy shows up.]

Monsieur Marius.

all the 'ponines <33

[tables]

[He offers her a fleeting smile, faint, but rather genuine. It's difficult to be angry or upset when so many of his friends and acquaintances are dead. Grudges are sometimes meant to be let go.]

Good evening, Éponine.

[roseoftheunderworld]

[In the past, such a smile might have excited her, but at the moment, it stings. She doesn't deserve his kindness, not after what she's done.]

It...it is good to see you here.

[She lingers back in the shadows still, too nervous to approach. And it's all she can do to offer what comes next.]

I am sorry. [Regret in death. Or, whatever passes for life in this place.]

[cynisme]

You can't call yourself a true revolutionary in the company of Enjolras unless you've found yourself a prisoner at one point or another.

[tables]

[His lips twitch upward into a smile, amused -- and relieved, extraordinarily, to find Grantaire well.]

He has a particular talent for gathering unwanted attention.

[cynisme]

[Without Grantaire around, their little group would be far too somber indeed, or perhaps not enough. Of course he's relieved.]

It's hardly unwanted.

Novel canon, post-suicide

[inseine]

Do smitten boys think of nothing else? She will live on. As well-to-do young women intelligent enough to avoid armed combat often do.

[When is this young lawyer boy from? Javert muses to himself with a calm, crooked grimace. Oh, of course he remembers the last he saw of him on the evening of June the 7th: broken, probably infected with cholera or gangrene, good as dead. He remembers knocking on his relation's door, declaring that they must prepare for a funeral soon.

Seeing him here, seeing him now, did not guarantee he survived that night despite Valjean's efforts. There is only one way to tell, and he is curious, bestowing upon the boy a searching stare. He segues into a question, delivered like an abrupt demand:]

Which prison did they send you?