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Éponine Thénardier ([personal profile] knowsherway) wrote in [community profile] tushanshu_logs2013-04-06 07:18 pm

[open]

Characters: Éponine Thénardier and Open!.
Date: April 6.
Location: The Wood Sector.
Situation: Éponine arrives in Tu Vishan, and her first order of business is to wander around the Wood Sector, completely confused, but eventually, said confusion gives way to a bit of curiosity. She'll be bemused for the most part, but Thénardiers are a bit like cats in that they can land on their feet.
Warnings/Rating: PG-13 for possible references to past violence. I'll be starting with prose, but I'm flexible about formatting.



Sometimes, it was all too simple to tell when one was lying and when one was not. But try as she might, Éponine could not make out if these kedan, as they said they were called, were trying to make a fool of her with their strange tale. There could not really be a place between life, death, and dreaming, could there? Nor could there be a place that was neither heaven nor hell.

Éponine remembered the confusion she felt upon hearing this, confusion that was deepened by the fleeting memories of her own death. Or perhaps she had not died at all, even if that failed to explain the blood-stained state of the blouse and trousers that she wore.

Why were her clothes torn and in such a state? Why did she feel so turned about? There was a fight, a fight with guns and bullets and loud sounds. She could recall that much, even if all the rest was flashes and blurs and faces she couldn't quite make out.

Shaking her head, she tried to clear her thoughts. Something was happening, something strange,, and she meant to find out what that something was. But no sooner had she taken a step forward, she found her progress impeded by a person that she had failed to notice until that very moment.

"Oh! I am sorry, I did not see you."

Surely it was not too difficult a thing to understand Éponine's state of confusion and bewilderment in light of everything she had seen and been told.
chiot: (These are my people here's my patch)

[personal profile] chiot 2013-04-17 04:00 am (UTC)(link)
Gavroche's eyes narrow, and he takes in the other. Really looks, eyes raking over the figure, taking in the features, and--

"Eponine."

There's no joy in it. Nor is there sorrow--there's hardly any emotion from the little boy as he snakes down the tree expertly and takes a few more steps. His own clothes are the exact same as they were when he arrived--probably more than a little smelly, probably kind of gross--but he doesn't seem to mind. It's something you're used to, on the street.

He doesn't say anything else. Just looks at her, evenly and calmly. Perhaps too calm.
chiot: (These are my people here's my patch)

[personal profile] chiot 2013-04-22 05:56 am (UTC)(link)
They stay like that, silent, locked as still as statues. He is numb, and he dares not to breathe. If he breathes, Gavroche thinks, this whole thing is over and his sister will vanish in the blink of an eye. She'll leave, just like he's heard whispers of foreigners doing so. She'll just crumble into dust, or melt away like ice, or just go without a sound, without warning.

Don't move, Gavroche wills. She's going to go away.

It is, perhaps, far more difficult being a twelve years old than the messy blonde lets on. It is also, perhaps, as equally difficult (if not more) seeing someone you thought was well and alive and noticing that yes, while they're here with you now, they're well and dead.

Gavroche lets out a flurry of wails then, and his resolve not to move has faded quickly. He's angry, he's confused, but he's sad. Eponine has passed away. His sister--who, perhaps not as close as proper siblings should be, is still his sister--has left the streets of Paris under the circumstance of death.

The gamin charges and at first it's with a fist--and he hits her, roughly, and hits her again and again and again but despite the roughness his hands bounce off the other like he's punching a pillow. It's the second or third or maybe even sixth hit and he lets his legs buckle from underneath him, his howling more pained than angry. He's collapsed onto her, arms wrapped around in a hug.

His sister is here, but at what cost?
chiot: <user name="easycompany"> (Watch out for old Thenardier)

;_; bbies

[personal profile] chiot 2013-04-23 06:06 am (UTC)(link)
'There are others who deserve this noise more than I' and the sad part is Gavroche knows it's true, because they weren't exactly estranged but it wasn't like they spent every waking moment together. Gavroche didn't do brotherly things and Eponine didn't do sisterly things.

He forces himself to sniff and tries to calm himself down, taking deep breathes. He can't remember the last time he'd cried like this! No, he honestly can't. Perhaps alone, in his elephant, hiding away from the world.

Why, he's twelve years old. He shouldn't be crying like a babe! Not infront of Eponine. She might tell Marius of all of his ugly sobbing--and Pontmercy, much as he was wont to do, would surely tell Jehan, Combeferre and the others. And what a fool he'd look like, a sniveling brat and a proud gamin.

There's a big difference, Gavroche thinks, between being a gamin and just a waistrel. Whether anyone else realizes that is beyond him. He brings a sleeve up on his jacket to wipe away his tears and awkwardly hiccups as his breathing is still quick and doesn't agree with him, nor does the sudden pounding on his head.

"If we're both here, maybe more of us will come. Montparnasse, perhaps?"
chiot: (Default)

[personal profile] chiot 2013-05-01 05:20 am (UTC)(link)
Marmotte. Gavroche's face twists and it's hard to tell if it's amusement or annoyance--perhaps it's the special brand of both that Gavroche has always been so fond of--and he's still trying to wipe the redness out of his eyes, as if doing it forcefully enough will have better results and not just give him a bigger headache.

"There's a lotta 'em. An' y'know? Ones from the barricade. The leaders are, huh?" He nods. "Enjolras an' Courfeyrac and Combeferre."