It seems so long ago, that one. Odd, isn't it? Time seems to move so slowly sometimes, and then to speed up when you least would like it to.
[Here, Enjolras is eyedarting just a little.]
We were attempting to make gunpowder. Things got a little...out of hand. Mère Hucheloup, the owner, did not seem to mind so much at least. She fussed a little when she came in and saw a bit of smoke, but then, I suspect now, that it was less about the room than about us. She was our...something of a mother to us while none of ours were near.
[And she had stayed with them, at the barricade, until things became overrun and they had sent her home, along with the men with families who had been convinced to leave. Enjolras had thought her something of a friend back then, but now, after being the lieutenant of a crazy dragon, and the adopted father of a Taraja(because there was no way to describe her as just a turtle hatchling, really), he could see it differently.]
I wonder now, what she might think of, well, this world.
[Personally, Enjolras can imagine the woman marching on the Emperor's palace herself, demanding answers, with, perhaps a broom in hand. She'd never taken hearing of injustice quietly, as much as she had been a great help to them in planning, and helped hold everyone back from doing worse in 1830.]
no subject
[Here, Enjolras is eyedarting just a little.]
We were attempting to make gunpowder. Things got a little...out of hand. Mère Hucheloup, the owner, did not seem to mind so much at least. She fussed a little when she came in and saw a bit of smoke, but then, I suspect now, that it was less about the room than about us. She was our...something of a mother to us while none of ours were near.
[And she had stayed with them, at the barricade, until things became overrun and they had sent her home, along with the men with families who had been convinced to leave. Enjolras had thought her something of a friend back then, but now, after being the lieutenant of a crazy dragon, and the adopted father of a Taraja(because there was no way to describe her as just a turtle hatchling, really), he could see it differently.]
I wonder now, what she might think of, well, this world.
[Personally, Enjolras can imagine the woman marching on the Emperor's palace herself, demanding answers, with, perhaps a broom in hand. She'd never taken hearing of injustice quietly, as much as she had been a great help to them in planning, and helped hold everyone back from doing worse in 1830.]