MYLÈNE LACOQUINE
Citizen
Abc Cafe Barmaid
Posts: 318
Joined: Feb 12, 2013 8:44:01 GMT -5
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Post by MYLÈNE LACOQUINE on Jun 1, 2013 10:15:15 GMT -5
It was several minutes of almost running and constantly diverting her senses in all possible directions before Mylène was convinced that Montparnasse was not following her anymore. She knew very well that once again she had had more luck than should be fair and possible, but she certainly would not complain. Not to mention that she might have even found a cure for her fear of this young man now, at least to a certain extent: Knowing that she could hold her own against him should push come to shove and the realization that he, too, knew fear and viewed her as an opponent worked wonders for her self-confidence these days. Maybe next time when they crossed paths, they would just accept not getting in each others’ ways, and leave any conflict be.
Now that encounter had come to an halfway good end – minus perhaps the cut on her arm that had started to burn and hurt now her excitement was dying down – she could focus again on her goal today – visiting a few important people she hoped to convince to bring on the lads’ side. There was much potential of unrest in the catacombes, a whole society of his own, almost forgotten by the world above – if it wasn’t for these people’s succesful criminal activities. And this unrest, Mylène hoped to steer into the right paths, aiding Les Amis in a way only she could: as part of more than one world, she knew many of the minds of the people down here, their sorrows and their motivations, and most importantly: how the interests of these two worlds could somehow be combined, if only they were the least bit willing to put their own hides on the line to bring about change. If they could be convinced that the change Les Amis de L’ABC had in mind would benefit them as well, if somehow their patriotic streaks could be stimulated, they would have a small army at their disposal – and that was exactly what they needed.
To start out, she had thought of a few faces, uncluding one she longed to see most. Bellamy, the only remaining companion from her earliest childhood, having escaped from the leather factory with her. Bellamy knew her the longest, and she him, and so she hoped that the few months were they had not seen each other recently due to Mylène’s sudden engrossment in work routine hadn’t changed him beyond recognition. Trying down here, near the Cour des Miracles at the old hideout of their child gang was her best shot. It was a cavern, far enough from the sewers to remain dry and small enough to keep a little warmth if occupied by a handful of people. It might have been a storage place in the times of the quarries still being in use, and for Mylène’s gang it had been their own little palace.
As she still had not dared to relight her candle, she was moving around in pitch black darkness and was careful not to make any noise. Even she knew that she could not just walk up to the cavern and not expect a hostile welcome. Bellamy had always been cautious and prudent, he would have weapons ready once he spied an intruder. When she was close enough to the entry, Mylène pressed herself against the wall, listening closely if she could hear any sign of movement or breathing. For a moment, the idea to sneak up on her friend flickered through her mind, but as the same stunt had just gotten her in trouble with Montparnasse,her appetite for mischief was satiated for today. When she could make out that someone was in there, she straightened up and sounded a few wellplaced words in a low voice, a watchword of old that might nowadays be out of use, but hopefully would tell Bellamy a friend was approching: “The True Key Lords Will Prevail…!”
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Post by earlybird on Jun 2, 2013 17:18:20 GMT -5
Bellamy counted the contents of the morning’s spoils over and over again, making sure he engrained how much food and coin he had left into his mind. The cavern he had established as his home was remote enough that intruders were mostly an afterthought; but as he and his cohorts had found this location early on in his childhood, he imagined that one-day someone would do the same. He had just a few pieces of bread and a franc or two left. Bellamy preferred to steal a little at a time; there was less of a chance he’d get caught or become a wanted man, and there was also less risk to his entire stash being seized by some lowly catacomb dweller.
After memorizing the entirety of his goods, Bellamy sat against the back wall and slipped his hands over his feet, rubbing out as much of the stress as he could. Today required a lot more running and fleeing than he normally had to deal with, but he had gotten away from his marks virtually unscathed. He pulled his journal from the floor to his lap, and began drawing the neighborhood in which he was born and the countryside in which he was named after, Manche. The English Channel was something of a vague memory to him, but he swore that when he drew it, he’d drawn it almost perfectly every time.
Under his illustration, Bellamy added a brief stanza he had thought of himself. Bellamy often included poetry within his sketchbook, and he was extremely proud of the seemingly profound words he had written without any sort of formal education. It's not everyday a scoundrel from the streets learns to read on his own. He stole books whenever he saw the opportunity, practiced consistently day in and day out. The process was difficult, but highly rewarding. His words were misspelled and the handwriting was poor, but he had enjoyed his writing none-the-less.
“No matter who I may deceive, Notions of wealth go unachieved. For when I wake in two days eve, My dreams are gone, I leave my sleeve.”
Bellamy had missed his hometown. There was nothing there of course, and he could scarcely remember a single positive detail. But he was sure that it had to be better than where he lived now. Bellamy had closed his eyes for just a second when a voice came echoing through the cavern.
“The True Key Lords Will Prevail…!”
Bellamy smiled slightly. He had not had a visitor in quite a while. The former base of operations for his former gang had been made into his own personal home, and his former companions had been either imprisoned or killed in their struggles to survive. Bellamy was no leader. While his plans had always been ingenious, his ability to maneuver others had been lackluster. But his predecessor seemed to make something of herself, at least, she had made it out of the Cours De Miracles. And now it seemed she was popping in for a long overdue visit.
“If only that statement held any truth anymore.”
Bellamy arose to his feet and stepped out of the shadows, greeting Mylie with a smile. His initial instinct was to embrace her, but she looked so much cleaner and healthier then she used to, he simply didn’t want to ruin it.
“It’s been a long time, hasn't it?”
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MYLÈNE LACOQUINE
Citizen
Abc Cafe Barmaid
Posts: 318
Joined: Feb 12, 2013 8:44:01 GMT -5
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Post by MYLÈNE LACOQUINE on Jun 5, 2013 5:16:57 GMT -5
Mylène had no idea how many – or if any – of her former gang were still around and if she would meet them here. Her primary concern was Bellamy, but she would not mind seeing some of them as well, even though they never had been as close. There was something in running away together and establishing yourself with teeth and claws side by side in such a city as Paris that created an unique bond. A bond she had strained quite much over the last few months and maybe even years with her only sporadic visits. And yet, coming down here, standing in that familiar entrance in the shadows and hearing his familiar voice, it was like no time had passed at all. His voice might have changed in pitch, gone deeper and more manly now maybe, but… he was still Bellamy. Her Bellamy in a way that needed no explanation or explication.
She could hardly make out his frame in the dimness of their surroundings, but there he was,undoubtedly. This frame, albeit broadened and grown a bit since last she had seen him, she’d know anywhere. What he said though slightly dimmed the surge of exuberant joy inside her, as he reminded her that, after all, things were not like they had been anymore. Though…was there a reason to be THAT gloomy about it all? Certainly not! The way he stood there, it also seemed as if he was hesitent whether to embrace her or not. Goodness, what was his problem?! Mylène almost couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement. Did he think [I[she[/I] had changed so much?! Just because she hadn’t found time to sneak down here as often as she would have liked, didn’t mean she suddenly thought worse of him!
“Ye know, I’m not made o’ glas”, she teased, then stepped forward to close the gap between them, drawing him into a warm, tight embrace. “An’ wha’ are ye getting’ at? O’ course the Key Lords do prevail. Look at us, we’re still alive an’ kickin’ aren’ we? An’ I DO still have tha’ key!” she finished with a triumphant wink, then took a step back, beamng. “Roi d’Enfer it’s got te see ye! How have you been, mon bel ami?”
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Post by earlybird on Jun 7, 2013 8:43:03 GMT -5
"Merde, eet 'as been worse before. 'Ze people are more distracted, weech means I am less 'ongry."
Bellamy smiled crookedly as he looked straight over her head, still checking to see if she had been followed or had brought anyone else along. After a moments of paranoia, he turned his attention right back to his old friend.
"Eet 'as been too long. Did you finally find yourself a man to take care of?" Bellamy snickered at the thought of her being with someone. He had never failed to remind her of her lack of femininity when they were young, but after not seeing each other for so long, she had seemed to grow into herself. That didn't mean Bellamy couldn't still have his fun. He reached over and pinched her cheek between his thumb and forefinger lightly, squeezing it as he would do to a small child. "Or maybe a wooooo-man?" He chuckled, pulling his hand back to fix his hair into a ponytail. It had gotten longer than he would have liked, falling over his eyes enough to impair his vision.
"Deed you bring me anything?" Normally, Bellamy hated asking for handouts. Anything he wanted he would just take through some elaborate scheme, sometimes too elaborate. This was different. He walked back to his journal and began sketching again. He patted the ground next to him for her to sit. "Eenless you don' want to ruin your clothes." He smirked a little, looking between her and his notebook.
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MYLÈNE LACOQUINE
Citizen
Abc Cafe Barmaid
Posts: 318
Joined: Feb 12, 2013 8:44:01 GMT -5
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Post by MYLÈNE LACOQUINE on Jun 9, 2013 16:10:40 GMT -5
Mylène exchanged a knowing, mischievous grin with her old friend. Indeed, people’s distraction was a thief’s best friend. Especially when you became older and grew in size, you could not just weasle through a crowd like that or be left unnoticed walking behind a bigger man and nick his pockets while he was busy scouting the way ahead. But it was a business that relied as much on luck as it did on skill, and sometimes you just were out of luck. She remembered those days all too well, especially in their beginning time together, when they had been going without food for days, hugging their bellies in the night to keep them from growling, or covering up the sound with a cough, so they did not show any weakness in front of the other.
Laughing, she punched him lightly on the upper arm as he asked her about a man. “Hey! Wha’ makes ye think I’d ever need a man te take care of? Those men can really all take care o’ emselves, they dun’ need me te do it fer ‘em!” Unbiddenly, however, the laughing face of Courfeyrac squeezed itself into the forefront of her mind, and she pushed it away with annoyed snort. With another snort, she then slapped his hand away, shaking her head at his silliness. “Me an’ a woman?! I dun ever want te know wha’s in yer head sumtimes, Bel!” she exclaimed. “Ye’ve been without decent company fer too long, it’s time ye remember yer style!”
Reaching into a bag dangling from her shoulders, she took out two small quiches which she had earlie been baking for the café on Madame’s order. Gladly, in her wrangling with Montparnasse earlier they had not been squished, so she now presented them to him with a grin. “There’s a lil surprise hidden in them, so dun gorge them like ye usually would, kay?” Of course she would have brought him something anyway, it was only logical to act on solidarity once you were better off than your former best friend, but since she had also come here with a plan, she had thought to up her game a little. Good bait catches good fish after all… She sat down beside him, growling almost about his continuous jabs at her supposed upper-classness. “If ye dun stop tha’, Bel, I’ll think twice ‘bout visitin’ ye again! Me an’ carin’ bout me clothes. PLEASE! You were always the vain one in our team, Monsieur ‘egad, there’s fish scales all o’er me trousers now!” she mimicked him in a squeaky girl voice.
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Post by earlybird on Jun 12, 2013 19:03:07 GMT -5
“I never deed like ze smell of fish,” Bellamy chuckled, already thinking of his next retort. He had severely missed his verbal wars with his old friend, and as she grew older and more intertwined her work, he feared they would end up growing apart for good. The pencil scratched across the page rapidly, the whole process seemed chaotic and unorganized. He alternated between using the point and the edges of the pencil’s tip, changing the width and breadth of each stroke. Soon, as the scratches began to intersect, the shape of a woman’s silhouette appeared amongst the darkest of the strokes. “Speaking of fish, you have such big lips.” He laughed whole-heartedly as her lips began to appear on the page, perhaps a bit larger than they really were. “Eet amazes me that you can talk so much, with such heavy lips.” The drawing was nearly complete. He smirked as he ripped the page and handed it to her with a beaming smile. He was always proud of his work, even if it was widely disregarded by others. He rolled his shoulders and laid his head back on the wall behind him, inhaling deeply as if the air around him were fresh and clean. He ignored the stench that had caked in his nostrils and closed his eyelids, which had seemed to have an eternal heaviness laid upon them. “So, why today? Something remind you of ol’ Bellamy? Maybe you need something from someone and you got too rusty to take it yourself.”
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MYLÈNE LACOQUINE
Citizen
Abc Cafe Barmaid
Posts: 318
Joined: Feb 12, 2013 8:44:01 GMT -5
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Post by MYLÈNE LACOQUINE on Jun 13, 2013 9:05:15 GMT -5
Mylène gave a good-natured laugh at Bellamy’s try of a defense, guessing that was not all of the tale. Fish scales were a mess, she had to admit that, but it was a small price to pay for the succesful coup of stealing three whole fish from the market down at the harbour. Roi d’enfer how they had feasted that day! This must have been the first time in months where their bellies had not still growled with hunger afterwards. “Who does like the smell of fish, really” she pointed out. “It’s almost as bad as cod liver oil, ugh. Remember how they used te give it te us in the factory? Guess it was the most nasty leftover they could think of. Along with foul water o’course.”
Big lips`?! Her brows raised, she began to lean over, wanting to catch a glimpse of what he was drawing. Was he really doing a portrait of her?! He loved doing his drawings, that much was for sure, and it often struck Mylène how different his life could have been had he only had a different childhood. Even when younger, his drawings had be far from crude, and he had a keen eye for details. He might have become an artist instead of a thief. But maybe with the new world, he still could! Nothing was written in stone these days, everyone could decide their own future, if they only worked hand in hand to make this happen! “Maybe you should get your eyes checked”, she retorted, sticking out her tongue. “Just because you can’t draw slimmer lips, doesn’t mean I don’t have them.”
When he presented her the drawing, she gave a surprised gasps. Admitted, he had really drawn her lips to big, but that was probably just in jest, since the other proportions – as far as she remembered her own reflection – were perfectly captured. “I had no idea how good you’ve become!” she exclaimed with honest admiration. “Mon bel ami, you clearly missed your vocation.” This she would keep, she was sure of it. It would get a special place on the wall, were her other few treasures were kept. All were tokens of friendship. He apparently had missed their banter as much as she had, for he was assaulting her with it now full tilt. “Excuse me? Me an’ rusty?! I’ll show ye rusty, I just showed Montparnasse who’s boss, so dun think I won’ show you as well!”
Dang her tongue… she actually hadn’t want to tell anyone about her run-in with Montparnasse. People could become so horribly worked up about her being reckless. She knew already that Eponine would never come to know about this. To distract him, she shifted her position so she now faced him and said. “Well yeah, I’ve been wanting te see ye. Te tell ye a bit ‘bout wha’s goin’ on in me life at the moment. Have you witnessed the uproars of the last few days. May Parade and all?”
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Post by earlybird on Jun 16, 2013 8:48:00 GMT -5
Bellamy beamed as she seemed delighted with his art. Bellamy had always loved compliments, and when it came to his drawings or poetry, he ego inflated with every positive comment. After mentioning Montparnasse, Bellamy's curiosity had been piqued. He had his own run-in with the famed murderer and had gotten away, but at risk of having to divulge his own story, he let her change the subject. She had always been able to take care of herself, perhaps more than he had been able to; and part of him was glad that she hadn't entirely left her old life behind.
Bellamy had stayed away from most of the happenings up above the catacombs. It simply wasn't his business. Anything that happened there might as well have happened in another country. Bellamy only made appearances to steal and eat, and occasionally to find inspiration for his work. But being chased consistently by the police and even other rival thieves had put a damper on his knowledge of current events. Mylene had always been the ears of their little group.
However, he was interested in hearing about his old friends current life. Perhaps he'd get a little more information of Montparnasse, or maybe he'd hear about a new target. "I've seen zee uproars. But eet's none of me business."
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