do you hear the people sing?

[logomachist]

tfln | gen texting | psl hijinks | etc

Comments

@ courfeyhot

[logomachist]

{from here}


You show up.

[Is that not

how people express affection

or what]

[courfeyhot]

yes, I do.

[That is precisely not how people express affection.
Unless you're Grantaire.]

and I love you all

[logomachist]

[Is it not.

Weird.]

Because of the stimulants and occasional soft-talking?

[courfeyhot]

Parts of it, yes.

[logomachist]

And the general utility?

@ epiny

[logomachist]

{from here}


You don't have to thank me.

Or worry about that.

[epiny]

Good, because I won't say it again.

I don't worry about it. I expect it.

[logomachist]

Good.

About me, I mean.

[epiny]

I'm saying I expect to be let down

[logomachist]

This will be a pleasant surprise, then.

[epiny]

good. I could use one of those.

[logomachist]

We all could.

Just around the corner.

[epiny]

Great. We're all outside right now.

[logomachist]

[And, soon enough, Enjolras is also outside the Gorbeau House, ready to help wrangle however many of the collection of Thenardiers need bringing to get lunch.

And still, of course, faintly curious as to exactly what had happened the night before. That just takes the backburner when there are childen to feed.]

[epiny]

[It's the usual suspects sitting on the corner waiting for Enjolras. When he first comes into view, Gavroche is on his feet running over to his older friend. Azelma and Eponine wait for a few more moments before standing, Eponine looking down at her feet.

Azelma is on her phone- an iPhone far above the Thénardier pay-grade. Stolen, like nearly all of their electronics.]

Hey, [she greets Enjolras, unable to meet his eyes. It was hard, accepting an offer like this. But, she reminded herself, it was in exchange for information. Everyone wins. Especially her siblings.] Thanks for letting them come.

[logomachist]

[Enjolras isn't amazing with children. Then again, Enjolras isn't amazing with people generally. Gavroche is, and has always been, the exception.

The boy is too old for hoisting into arms or folding into a hug. Instead, he reaches easily to ruffle the boy's hair, fingers lingering affectionately over the unruly curls as the girls approach.]

Nothing to thank me for.

[epiny]

Still. Most people... [She shrugs a little, not wanting to say it out-loud. She knew Enjolras liked her brother better than her, anyway. All of his friends did. Eponine was just there. Watching, observing, drinking. She forced her way in, made them acknowledge her. Originally, it was to get closer to Marius.

But most of his friends aren't too bad. Which is exactly how she'd gotten herself into this situation to begin with.] Most people wouldn't do this.

Or they'd make some big deal about it.

[logomachist]

[Unlike certain friends, Enjolras has faith in most people. Somehow, in spite of that, he's constantly surprised by how bleak most people seem to think everyone else is.

He takes a brief beat to study Eponine's forehead before letting one shoulder lift.]

Doesn't seem productive.

[epiny]

[She shrugs, falling into step with Enjolras as they make their way toward the nearest cafe.]

No. People like to do shit just to feel better about themselves. They make a big deal so everyone else does and everyone can worship them and their giving spirit. [She rolls her eyes.] They don't get it's hard to say yes, after dumpster diving for the past few weeks.

[logomachist]

[His head bobbles slightly side to side.] Catch-22, then, isn't it. Better to have more people helping if you want things to change, but-- harder to handle egos if you let them all in.

[epiny]

And nothing changes.

[They stay hungry, they remain freezing and poor. Their father still sells his daughters, their mother ignores it all and helps their father with fraud and other crimes.]

One day of help isn't going to change anything. Then those assholes posting pictures of themselves with little African orphans who's life they touched or whatever?

[logomachist]

[This has to be a delicate thing. Delicate isn't at all his forte.

Still, attempts are being made.] What does change things, then?

[epiny]

I don't know.

[She's silent for a moment, watching Azelma and Gavroche ahead of her.]

Gavroche is too young to remember how it used to be. Azelma barely remembers. We used to own an Inn, did I ever tell you that? We had money- I had a bed!

[logomachist]

That so?

[Not talking isn't easy. Not talking is, however, fairly important in moments like this.]

[epiny]

Yeah. Out in Montfermiel. I was about seven, when we lost the place.

[She scuffs the sidewalk with the toe of her worn-down Converse] Fucking Lark.

[There's one person and one person only she blames for the loss of the inn. You can guess.]

It was amazing- things were so much better there. Dad used to let me sit on his lap and he'd have me help him write up invoices, bills. Sometimes he'd have me deliver them when it was time to check-out. [There's a small smile on her lips as she remembers it. Happier times.]