(just. because. is now au based on movie/book/musical.)

[checkmystache]

You may find this entertaining, but I am anything save amused. What business have I here? There is work to be done, a city to be protected. Orders to give and to follow.

I demand that you release me!

...No?

Rest assured, I take no orders from you. If I am to remain, I shall exist on my terms only. Stand down. Show proper respect.

To you who may listen, I will say what I am. I support the eternal glory of France. I am skilled in the arts of combat and command, and spend my days in marching and drills. I direct men to kill. I have a beautiful mustache and no soul. Such is my life.



((eta: a bit about what's up with this guy.))

Comments

[wouldyoulikemyhat]

And who the devil are you supposed to be?

[There would be more in this space, but Javert's mun is too busy crying with joy.]

[checkmystache]

Who am I, Sir? Who am I?

Truth be told, history and The Great Recorder (known in some circles as Victor) have given me no name. I am called The Army Officer. I am a man bound to my profession.

You may, however, address me as Chastain.

And you are?

[to_be_free]

No soul, citoyen? What a pity.

[checkmystache]

I had one until recently, and I tell you I am much freer without it.

[to_be_free]

And how did you come to lose it? I am curious to know.

[antinouswild]

[Iconface]

ohlord

[checkmystache]

[!!!

!!!

!!!

...]

You... You are--

You ought to have surrendered.

[antinouswild]

Knock Knock

Who's there.

The French Revolution, bitch.

[idealisme]

You have never even dreamed the eternal glory of France. Had you, you would have joined out cause and fought for the right.

[checkmystache]

[There is another.

Impossibility after impossibility, and the swirl of it only becomes more wrenching. He knows who he is now. He cannot understand how he came full circle or how he is here now. He cannot understand why there should be another Enjolras (perhaps this is a punishment of some sort; he has never truly been able to believe in Hell, but this place is entirely inexplicable). And he cannot tell how to make amends, or even if he would so change if given the chance. Too much has occurred to tell. Too much has fallen out of place.

As far as he can tell, this Enjolras is unaware of the paradox. He cannot bring himself to speak the truth--after the last encounter, he cannot find the endurance for it, not yet--but neither will he walk away. Again, he is caught, fixed as ever by that immovable martyr. He must, therefore, say something. He must play the role into which he had grown. Speak conviction even if he does not feel it.]

I believe in France above all else. No dream is necessary.

And you. Your cause is misguided. Your right is ill-informed.

[idealisme]

No dream is necessary? It is you, monsieur, who is mistaken!

With no dream to strive towards France will never achieve her greatness!

[petitgamin]

[Iconface]

[checkmystache]

Get away from here, boy.

[petitgamin]

Ain't leaving.

[fitofgrandair]

Wait, what the hell?

i am going to play this out i don't even care.

[checkmystache]

Yeah.

[fitofgrandair]

God. Damn.

/sneaks in

[petitgamin]

He don't half look like you.

[fitofgrandair]

Well-spotted, Gavroche, but you'd be better off keeping away from him.

[quatre_ailes]

What the hell is on your face, you look ridiculous.

[checkmystache]

[Oh, for God's sake.

Of course it's Joly. At this point, the man who now knows himself as Grantaire doesn't bother to question the boy's appearance. What he doesn't know is whether Joly has recognized him; the tone is one of familiarity, but this might be Joly's idea of a joke. Or Joly may have become singularly rude upon death; who could say?

Raising his eyebrows, Grantaire fixes his eyes on Joly, wary.] Dignified, I should say.

[quatre_ailes]

[He just lifts his eyebrows right back and grins.] I don't think I've ever seen you look dignified in my life. When did you grow a mustache anyway, R?

[Well, how's that for an answer? He's not even going..weird.]n the whole uniform thing, that's just ...weird.]

STOPS ALL THE OTHER PRESSES for Hadley

[inseine]

Your uniform, really! [murmurs Javert in a low aside, drolly disbelieving.] A national guardsman! Where the hell are you lot al coming from?

[Slight bob of his head - almost an acknowledgement. He peers at this fellow closely, marveling at that strange tic of recognition nipping at his memory.]

Quit your panicking. Come, let's be civilized. Who are you?

memo to Javert: you might win at muttonchops, but you got NOTHIN' on my 'stache.

[checkmystache]

[As if this whole experience hasn't been trying enough, Grantaire now finds himself faced with a man who might be termed a paragon of authority.

It is the soldier yet ingrained in Grantaire that responds first, and he steps forward with a scowl. That querulous tone piques the soldier's lingering pride; what the hell gives this man the right to scold an officer of the Guard?]

What gives you, Monsieur, the right to level such demands?

[Hold on. This man is... Familiar somehow. Not anyone he has encountered recently, but a face he may have come upon in his older life. The expression of grim disapproval must have etched itself onto his mind, though he cannot say where he had last seen it.

His anger recedes somewhat, and Grantaire regards the man with a curious eye.] You may know me as Chastain.

And you? Sir?

the 'stache just implicates you for dandyism. Muttonchops imply dignity.

[inseine]

[An arch of a brow and a nonplussed expression defines exactly how impressed Javert is by this uniformed individual: Not at all. True to form, the former Inspector of Police (of the first class) treats him with the same gentility that he bestows upon every man and woman he meets, regardless of class.

That is to say, none at all.]

Chastain! Is that so?

[There is a palpable twitch at Javert's jaw. That's irritating. The name doesn't sound familiar. He scrutinizes this National Guard fellow openly from head to toe. Yet, there's something about him... Damn it, who the devil is he? When a police officer recognizes a face, it is generally not the best of omens.]

Javert. [Well, at least he answered the question. Curtly.]--You say you were stationed in Paris?