I SLEEP WITH ONE EYE (OPEN)

[msieurthernadier]

Louis Thenardier didn't get much sleep anymore. Whether because of his moaning broad of a wife, or he was out with his gang, drinking and generally causing mayhem whilst the cops hid under their rocks. People had learned to avoid the mustachioed man wherever possible and even as he roamed the streets of Paris with his gang in tow he couldn't help but feel that things where just a little boring. People knew to move out of the way for him, they knew to avoid his one eyed gaze, the other his glass eye simply stared straight forwards and was unnervingly piercing. He looked around and then looked some more. There was literally nothing at all of interest to be had, sure there was plenty of people to rob hell, Louis could see a few familiar faces that he was fairly sure were out 'working' so to speak. But he had promised Eponine flowers... lots of flowers, he promised her so many things that he couldn't possibly hope to provide, what with buying food, clothes, saving enough to scrape by. He promised too much to both of his daughters... maybe not so much to his wife but he was sure she had enough fat on her to keep her going for the time being.

He came to a flower stall breathing through his nose, his twirled mustache curling up at each end as if electrified, his stubbled face showed the tale of a man very much tired and a little world-weary. 'Nothing a few drinks later with the boys wouldn't change' he thought to himself as he looked at a few flowers as he passed, one of the bigger men behind him was making some sort of song and dance about a gypsy offering him a fight. Louis just waved his hand absentmindly as the scuffle broke out. He had much more important things on his mind besides fighting and as a man of principles he tried not to get too involved with street brawls. He simply grinned along to himself as he admired and examined roses and lavender and violets... All manner of plants that he was fairly sure were all pretty nice to look at. He tried to imagine what kinda flowers Eponine and Azelma would like, both of them had different tastes and he was sure that something would work though.

He looked at the vendor, a gypsy woman; tan skinned, dark hair and dark eyes. Not a bad chest on her either... not too old, but when did age matter? Louis breathed thoughtfully, pursing his lips as he pointed at the roses. "How much for two bouquets?" the gyspy answered in an accented way and Louis ducked his head slightly. "What did ya say?" his accent and voice were unmistakable, a unique blend of his Father's french accent overpowered and dominated completely by his mother's common New York tone. It made his French unbearably gutter-like but his English seemed passable. The woman motioned for twenty francs. "Twenty?! Are you kiddin' me!?" he said and leaned forward, in a motion that was faster than you would have thought for a nearly middle aged man, a razor sharp knife was produced and stabbed into the wood of the stall with such force that it drove the blade in a good few inches. "I'll give ya... five for both and I hope for yaw're sake that yaw're outta here when I'm back later." the woman was pale.

Louis was unmoved by the fear in her eyes. Maybe it was because he only had one eye for her two, but there was something unmistakable in the way that his dirty fingers with their dirty nails gripped hold of the handle of the knife and pulled it from the wood. "Did ya hear me? If you don't gimme those flowers... I'll teach ya to speak French with his knife." the woman nodded her understanding and set about wrapping the two bouquets. His working eye watched her like a hawk, his mustache seemed to bristle like the fur on a cat standing on end. The air between the two of them was tense. The knife still in his hand as Louis checked around, his gang was keeping watch for him. "Quit your dilly dallying Lady.... and hurry up." the woman wrapped the flowers and passed him the bouquets.

Louis was suddenly all too careful he tossed the woman her money and then very delicately passed the bouquets to one of his lieutenants. His eye scanned mercilessly for a target, but again as it flicked to the roses it was hesitant and careful. He wanted nothing to be out of place for his sweethearts. "Hey Bozo... carefawl with those things, they're for my dawghters. You ruin one you lose a finger we clear?" the man nodded, he was taller and bulkier than Louis but Thenardier had proved on much more than one occasion that he was much tougher than he looked and much more slippery, cunning and generally devious. You didn't live to his age with as many enemies as he had unless people feared you or they loved you. Louis Thenardier was certain that nobody loved him.

So surely they must fear him.

He pulled out his pocketwatch and checked it with a frown... he was running a little late, but that didn't matter he could go for a walk a little while longer. Approaching a figure a cigar dangling from his mustachioed mouth he offered a question in his rough, accented voice. " 'Cuse me... would you mind lighting this if you have a match spare?"

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2] THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST ` MUST BE JAVERT HE'S FOUND MY COVER THIS IS A WARNING TO US ALL WE MUST AWAY TIME TO LIVE ANOTHER DAWN AND LIVE ANOTHER - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - day
[atrb=width,240] Though Valjean was unable to shake the fear that they were being followed, he had to reassure himself that as yet, it was unfounded. Whoever it was who had been following them the other day, they had left them alone; perhaps Cosette had been wrong and they were not being followed after all, or perhaps it had only been a young man seeking her attentions rather than a policeman hunting him down. He had agreed, reluctantly, to let Cosette attend the street fair – with his accompaniment and protection, naturally – because it would probably be crowded enough that no one would recognize them. It also meant that there were going to be police everywhere, and there would be jostling crowds. He did not want to stay long, just long enough for Cosette to see things so that she would not resent him for missing it, and buy her some flowers. He knew that he could not purchase her love or his forgiveness for the way that he'd kept her inside and secluded over the past few days. Today of all days was not the day to throw caution to the wind, and surely she understood why he wanted to keep her from prying eyes, even if she did not know all the reasons. He only wanted to keep her safe. It had never been a point of contention for them, as far as he knew; they loved one another and they kept nothing from one another. Once in a while she asked a question that cut too close, and he would dodge it, and the conversation would end. Hopefully this would give them something to talk about for a while – how exciting it was to see the street performers, how crowded it had been, how much good food was to be had. How beautiful the flowers were. It would be no surprise to Cosette that he bought them, because he kept her at his side always, but this spontaneous kindness would make her smile. “Wait for me there. You will be safe,” he instructed, standing her across the street, where they could still see each other. He began to approach the flower stand when he heard the rough voice, saw the knife. Hesitating, he turned to the side and stepped backto avoid being seen as a witness to a crime, for this man might punish him for it. In another lifetime, he was the sort of man who would intervene in these situations, but Cosette was with him now, and he could not endanger her as well. In another moment, the man came closer, and Valjean learned another reason why he should have stepped back sooner. The voice he had thought he might have recognized, the cruel face – the eyes. Thenardier. He kept the brim of his hat down, praying he would not be remembered. “I do not. Forgive me, monsieur.” He began to move away, keeping his eyes lowered.	[atrb=width,140] words , enough tagged , monsieur t notes , in which valjean's fears are finally justified (albeit not about javert)
[cs=2] TEMPLATE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING OF CAUTION 2.0

[msieurthernadier]

Louis smiled a soft smile that showed yellowed teeth stained such by the smoking of tobacco. The smile was a tugging at each corner of his lips that showed his highly raised cheekbones, the whimsical nature of his piercing blue eye suddenly revealed to the man he had asked for a match. The smile showed the mustache bristling slightly, the slightly oiled hair that twirled at each end upwards as if it was electrified. Louis Thenardier though dressed like a man of good means and indeed someone who carried himself with a dignified air and he perhaps even had the looks of a middle-class man, though his greasy, slightly unwashed hair and the cold, hard rage in his working eye. The look in that remaining eye was more than enough that many men could stomach, the fact that it held so untold anger and hatred just remained too hard for men to even allow it to look upon them for more than a few moments. The glass eye that moved and followed in time with his other was just as intimidating if not moreso due to it's cold, inhumane nature.

Louis Thenardier was a leopard who had tried to change it's spots yet a predatory instinct had remained where it's predatory fur had been covered with a nice new set of clothes. The knives that hung at his belt were there for protection but also to enhance his reputation. Louis lived now off that reputation, he lived off people's fear of him and what he would do. Of course there were a few who had the temerity to question him, to not pay tribute to him. The leader of the Patron-Minette took such questioning of his authority very angrily and responded in an aggressive manner that left people bloodied and beaten up, shop windows broken, houses fired their occupants running for an escape whilst his men broke in and stole what was left of value. Everybody Owes. Everybody, pays. Bar none. There was not a soul on the streets of Rue Saint Denis who did not owe him money or tribute, there was not a soul on the streets around the place the villainous area who didn't pay him, the beggars and vendors and shop-keepers and pickpockets, the whores, the courtesans, the bar-tenders and the brothel owners.

Everybody paid their due to him, because he had shed the blood of countless men to earn that right. With that right earned he was happy to take a backseat and let his men do the heavy lifting for him. There was no challenge of his leadership, there was no question of trying to assassinate him. To think such a thing possible was considered ludicrous by most. Some of course had the courage to try, he had been shot at, he'd taken the bullet-wounds with screams of pain and tortured the unfortunates who would dare try to take his life as if it were a currency that had been recalled. He didn't particularly mind doing his own dirty work and if the time came he was more than adequately prepared to do so. But why should he? A man who had fought and killed and butchered his way to the very top of the Parisian gangs, with an accent so unmistakably not French that people still thought he was foreign. Why should he do everything himself when he had hundreds of men eager to do it for him? He shouldn't and therefore he didn't.

Not to say he was not still a vicious and violent man. He just tried to keep his hands and his knives clean. So when a certain friend of his happened to speak in an unmistakable tone Louis could hardly contain his surprise. Even moreso that the man with the huge frame had began to walk off, leaving Louis without a match. Thenardier's fingers reached out and grasped the heavy-set man's thick forearm in a grip that was iron-like in both it's strength and it's intensity. "Excuse me Sir.... I do believe I've seen you befawre." The men behind him began to chatter amongst themselves Louis leaned around the man and nodded his lips pursed in that slightly amused way he tended to greet such random strangers who he had once known. "Well look here Boiys.... we awre standin' in the honorable company of one Monsieur Madelin.... respected businessman... close friend of the family as well...." Louis one functioning eye stared into the man's, they were of a similar height, but vastly different builds. Louis was wiry whereas his apparent friend was big, bulky and muscular. The contrast and difference between the two was stark and Louis stared at the man from beneath the rim of his top-hat. "Whawt brings you to my side'a town, I ain't got any more dawghters for you to buy if you was wondering." he grinned.

But the grin was a challenging one and though Madelin could overpower Louis' grip the odds of him escaping the five or six armed men who the gang-leader had brought along with him were slim at best.

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2] THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST ` MUST BE JAVERT HE'S FOUND MY COVER THIS IS A WARNING TO US ALL WE MUST AWAY TIME TO LIVE ANOTHER DAWN AND LIVE ANOTHER - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - day
[atrb=width,240] As the vice grip closed on his arm, Valjean froze, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenched his teeth together. Now that Thenardier had recognized him, he lifted his chin defiantly and turned to face Thenardier, returning the unflinching gaze. He attempted to wrench his arm away with a quick movement. He knew he wasn't going to go anywhere, but Louis could at least have some decency. As if that were possible. For the sake of his pride, and Cosette if she was watching, he did not need to be held like an animal in a trap. Valjean could only pray that Cosette was not witnessing what was occurring. How desperately he wanted to look back at her to ensure that she was alright! For one thing, he knew that Thenardier was now watching his every move, and if he looked back at Cosette, Thenardier would see him do it, and most likely recognize his former charge. He might take her from him again. Valjean would not let that happen to Cosette. How could he communicate to her to run, when she would not know where to go by herself? He had not attempted to raise her in such a way that she would be helpless without him, but perhaps in protecting her from everything that he possibly could, perhaps he had not taught her well enough how to protect herself. The idea of him being caught was something that had haunted him his whole life, but rather than preparing for it as well as he could have, he had only done his best to make sure that it never happened. He had only told her that if something happened to him, she must go to the convent once more. When she had asked him what might happen, he had ended the conversations by telling her that he was getting old, whereupon she would always insist that he wasn't. He could only pray that if this did not end well for him, Cosette would be smart enough to leave him behind and go to the convent rather than involve herself. For now, he was relying on instincts, trying to take things moment by moment to plan his escape. He took stock of the burly men around him, who had seemed to materialize out of nowhere. One of them, he might have taken on, but now, he was out of luck. No, he could only talk his way out of this, or try. Valjean was silent for a moment, face remaining in its resolute expression as Thenardier mocked him. He chose not to respond to the taunts, or correct his name; it was better that Thenardier didn't know. Perhaps he already did. Nor did he defend himself about buying Cosette – as if she were some kind of worthless chattel! It was the mention that of Eponine and Azelma that made him break a little, especially in the context of Cosette. His nostrils flared. What had happened to them? Illness? A revolt gone wrong? Their father's brutality? Worry over these things had brought him into the Thenardier girls' path more than once, to "Thenardier's side of town." Once, Valjean had been in charge of more, and had run it with generosity, not fear and violence. So what could he possibly want from Thenardier that would bring him close to the savage? “You have nothing I want,” he replied, an edge in his voice. “There must be something you want from me before you release me. A few thousand francs to pay off your muscle?” His breathing was heavy through his nose as he pressed his lips together; his broad chest was beginning to heave with increased heart rate, in spite of the fact that he was endeavoring to maintain a look of composure. “Food, for your daughters? You need not threaten me for that.” He wanted to know what had happened to them. Were they alright? Why had he said that he had no more daughters to buy?	[atrb=width,140] words , enough tagged , monsieur t notes , in which valjean's fears are finally justified (albeit not about javert)
[cs=2] TEMPLATE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING OF CAUTION 2.0

[msieurthernadier]

The man's tone did not reflect his position. The man's face did not reflect his position. The man's heaving chest and worried, nervous look in his eyes however did. Louis face hardened as the man wrenched his arm from his fingers and spoke in such a manner as to insult him. His black eyebrows narrowed forming the eyes into slits one of them full of such malevolent, cold, hatred that it could not possibly be misinterpreted as anything other than the most base feeling of man. Anger. Someone behind him cleared their throat, reached for a club and the top-hatted men who were stood with him bristled just as their master did. There was something there a tension, an unresolved violence that wanted to burst out, Louis Thenardier had not grown to middle age in the way he had without fighting any man who dared to insult him. In front of his men, after he had not so much as made an aggressive move towards the man. Louis was bristling his fingers curled into a tight fist, the cigar still stuck in his mouth he turned back to his men. "Get me a match." a match was lit, struck and with it's wooden scent pressed into the end of the cigar, Louis allowed himself a puff on it exhaling the smoke through the other end of his mouth. The rich, blue vapor danced briefly in the air before dissipating. The tension was palpable between himself and Valjean, his men were itching to get into a scrap.

Louis on the other hand was in a delicate mood, he did not necessarily want to beat this man into the floor simply for offering him reason to do so. On the contrary Louis cunning mind was working on something, could the man's words possibly be seen as less antagonistic? did he truly mean to insinuate that Louis needed money to feed his daughters, or that he wanted to extract money simply to call off his men? Did Valjean have some alterior motive for refusing to hold a conversation with him? That's what tickled Louis in the wrong way, the idea that simply because he was himself and Valjean was some sort of Godly, saintly human being that the other man simply refused to talk to him. It made Louis' angry and he was formidable at the best of times, moreso because of the rage that was coursing through him.

"Listen here Mister Vawljawn...." he said placing emphasis on the last word in such a way as it was almost spat from his mouth like a cobra spitting venom. "And listen good 'n' hard." his eyes were so narrow they were hateful slits. "Ain't nobody... gonna come into my city and tell me I don't take absolute good care of my dawghters." Louis seemed to grow taller with each pointed word, his hard face with it's high cheekbones made all the more intimidating by his moustache and his mouth, lips pursed into an angry frown that could only further enhance the anger that was building up inside him. He breathed in and out of his nose, blue smoke danced faster. Louis could feel the world moving beneath his feet. His left hand curled into a hard fist. It all seemed to be moving fast. "I don't want or need any of yawr money. Nor did I mean to cawse offence." but it was still there, desperate to lash out.

His men were a little taken aback by their leader's apology but nonethless they relaxed slightly. "Get back to the Street boiys.... Go. Beat it." he used Americanisms liberally in his speech, a symptom of his Mother's accent and language. The men backed off, turned and walked off down the street. Louis was alone with the man now and therefore could get a better measure of him. "A lot's changed since the last time I sawre ya Valjawn... a lot." he puffed on his cigar and his demeanor softened. "Everything around here belongs to me now, of cawse not literally.. but everyone owes me and everyone pays me. I got the money for my dawghters." he looked around and took something out of his pocket. A whad of bills whose value was perhaps much more than any normal man would carry around in a city as rough as Paris. "Here's your money back." he placed the sum of 1500 francs into Valjean's coat pocket as he puffed on his cigar.

"You might be an honest man now Monsieur... but for some of us there ain't no difference in running a gang that takes money through intimidation. Or running a small business that flounders and dies like so many people do.... Awll I can do is take care of my dawghters as best I can.... and I don't need yawr charity." his wife would have his balls for giving away that much money to someone who she didn't even know or particularly like, in fact his wife would probably cut them off the first chance she got. Louis Thenardier however was a proud, proud man. His father had taught him something a long time ago about principles and honor, enough to know a principled man when he saw one and certainly enough to pay back money he hadn't earned in a way that he didn't consider particularly right.

(( OOC: I KNOW, I KNOW WHAT HAVE I DONE TO THE THENARDIER YOU ALL KNOW AND LOVE. WHAT HAVE I DONE?! SWEET JESUS WHAT HAVE I DONE?! I feel since you made such an out of character choice for Valjean to be out and about, I figured I'd do the same and have Thenardier feel a little sorry. Don't worry though. He's got something on his mind. ))

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2] THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST ` MUST BE JAVERT HE'S FOUND MY COVER THIS IS A WARNING TO US ALL WE MUST AWAY TIME TO LIVE ANOTHER DAWN AND LIVE ANOTHER - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - day
[atrb=width,240] Thenardier was wrong about Valjean. For one thing, Valjean didn't think that he was better than Thenardier. He had been a criminal once; he had been cold and hard and hating. He had stolen from children. He had gotten into fights because someone looked at him the wrong way. It was God who had pulled him from evil. Valjean had spent twenty years with the worst men in France. Over that time, he had become one of them. Showmanship did not impress him. Still, he did not trust Thenardier; why should he? And he was beginning to get anxious. As Thenardier demanded a light and received one instantly, Valjean felt how easily Thenardier got his way, and knew that if Thenardier wanted him dead, he would have that, as well. “Peace, Thenardier,” he breathed, doing his best to keep his tone even. He did not fear death, not for its own sake; he knew where he was going. But to leave Cosette alone... it must not be done. He trusted that God would protect him and enact His divine and perfect plan, but it was a struggle to keep calm. “Whatever you have to say, it is between you and I.” It wasn't that Valjean didn't want to have a conversation with Thenardier because he thought he was better than him; it was because he didn't want to be “taught how to speak French with a knife.” It was better to keep himself to himself. Yes, Thenardier was wrong about Valjean. But Valjean was also, apparently, wrong about Thenardier. Even almost before his request was said, Thenardier was dismissing his men. And... he was apologizing. Granted, the apology, if it could be called that, came only moments after a thread from his stinking breath. But it was something. Valjean supposed it wouldn't be wise to point out that even if no one could come into “Thenardier's city” and claim he didn't care for their daughters, his daughters had said as much to him themselves. Instead, he was silent for a moment as Thenardier said he meant no offense before he managed to reply, “Nor did I.” He proceeded to listen to Thenardier, though he did not relax even as Thenardier seemed to. His brows knit together in confusion and surprise as francs were dropped into his pocket. “Thenardier,” he started, something of a warning in his voice, but a warning of what, he did not know. He knew it would be best to just take the money and give it to someone else who needed it. Instead, he pursed his lips together then exhaled. “Then I will leave you in peace,” he said finally, quietly. He met Thenardier's gaze, and he, strangely, believed him when the man said he tried to take care of his daughters. Yet in spite of his promise to go, he felt himself rooted to the spot as he added philosophically, “In the end, we are both simple sinners hoping to God we can take care of the angels He's given us.”	[atrb=width,140] words , enough tagged , monsieur t notes , very interesting...
[cs=2] TEMPLATE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING OF CAUTION 2.0

[followedmyheart]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/20gfl1v.jpg); padding: 30px; border: #2D2729 solid 30px; ] It's may, that darling month Tra la! It's here! That's shocking time of year! Cosette felt rather childish having her father place her across the street from where he was buying flowers. Being told where to stay put? She was surely older than this? He was sweet however and she loved him for it. After many years they still played little games such as this. She wanted to play them for forever. Cosette's curiosity got the better of her and she found herself watching the flowers that her father might purchase as his hand hovered over them. She was ruining her own surprise! If only there was something to distract her... Her sea blue eyes cast around her for a stand that would capture her interest long enough for her father to purchase flowers. The majority around them were more flower stalls, but one at the end of the line seemed to be some trinket jewelry. It was too far away however, she would be out of her Papa's sight should she go there. Cosette pursed her lips and scanned the stands one more time, noticing that one of them was the booth for May Queen voting. She still had to vote. Glancing back at Papa, he seemed engrossed in choosing which flowers to buy to notice her absence for a moment or two. The stand was only a few away and she would be back in no time. Or so she thought...Cosette's voting had taken longer than she had thought it would. Their good friend and maid Toussaint had ended up on the ballot and she was thrown off for a moment by seeing her name. That and the horrible embarrassment of her own name! She had exchanged smiles and greetings with the young men at the stand before returning to Papa. Oh how he must be worried! She breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing that he was still at the stand with the same man that had been there before they were. Had they struck up a conversation? Good, he had no worried over her. Cosette all but forgot her father's instructions to stay across the street and happily joined him by the sweet smelling roses and lilacs. He was several shades seemed paler than when she had last left him. Was she wrong? Had noted her absence? She grasped his hand in hers to reassure him of her presence. "Papa,"

[/b] Cosette had only caught what appeared to be a saintly saying as she came within hearing distance, "all is bien?"[/b]
She looked between her father and the man he conversed with. While the other seemed familiar, she could not place him. She had seen many of the same beggars over the last few weeks and many were coming out for the fair. Perhaps he was such of these. [/div]

when everything goes blissfully astray

[/center][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table]

TEMPLATE BY TRINITY BLAIR @ CAUTION 2.0 & ATF

[/center]

[msieurthernadier]

Louis had always known Valjean was not who he said he was, he always knew the huge man could never have just been a businessman for one simply did not accumulate that much muscle over the course of a life mainly concerned with gaining and hoarding money. He knew just by looking at the broader man's face, his eyes, jaded and worn like a couple of chips of granite. He could tell that Valjean had done some bad things in his time, that certainly didn't give Louis any cause for fear or inspire any sort of significant feeling, in fact he looked around and then back at the man who clearly seemed a little vexed by the threatening tone and then the dismissal of Thenardier's men as if he considered the behavior out of character, which indeed it was. His men of course would no doubt be waiting for him a street or so away should he run into any difficulty.

He lifted his top-hat from his head, his index and thumb grasping the rim as he tipped it slightly to Valjean. Placing the black hat back on his head he spoke once more, his tone softer but there was still that roughness, that unfamiliar accent, the difference so discernible it was comic. "Nothing aside from honor and principles set us apawrt from every other man Moister Valjawn..." he smoked and looked up a little in thought. "I know darn straight I ain't goin' upwawrds when I die..... but that don't matter to me, not as long as Eponine and Azelma awre happy." The gang-leader frowned and then nodded as pushed aside the folds of his red coat aside with the sides of his hands and pushed those hands into the pockets of his trousers.

He saw the blonde girl walking towards them with a soft look in her face and Louis' black eyebrows furrowed slightly. She looked upon him, her former carer as if he was some sort of common beggar and he looked back at her with all the lack of recognition the girl deserved. Louis had of course recognised Tolette.... Molette? Dobrette.... or was it Toilett.... Brosette.... Cos-...no....Conette! that was it. He almost nodded, instead he simply tipped his hat again to the girl and smiled a soft, almost melancholic smile that showed none of the earlier aggression that had painted and crossed his face. The smile was soft, human...something there, not quite paternal but then not quite completely unattached. Not a mere formality, but not something that sat comfortably below the mustachioed lips.

The smile remained there for a few seconds and then faded abruptly, disappearing, almost as quickly as it had appeared. The ghost of the smile could be observed briefly in the crinkling of skin either side of his lips. "Good day to you Ma'am." he said to Conette... or was it... maybe... Lotette? he'd have to ask his wife later on if the stupid bit- "Awll is well indeed... me and yawr Fawther were discussing a few things...." he spoke calmly and looked at Valjean with those insightful eyes of his. "A lovely dawghter ya have here Moister Vawljawn... lovely indeed.... " he looked at the blonde haired girl once more and that wistful smile was there again. It disappeared almost instantly however. "And how awre you on this lovely day Madamoiselle..."

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2] THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST ` MUST BE JAVERT HE'S FOUND MY COVER THIS IS A WARNING TO US ALL WE MUST AWAY TIME TO LIVE ANOTHER DAWN AND LIVE ANOTHER - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - day
[atrb=width,240] Valjean paused, watching Thenardier for a moment. He did not know whether he considered that Thenardier had the principles he professed, but in this short interaction between them, he had realized that the man did have standards, a code of his own. Even if it did not match up with the rest of society's, or even with Valjean's. He had done what he'd had to do to provide for his daughters, and that, Valjean could respect, because he had done the same. He had broken the law more than once. If nothing else, it had taught him that ultimately, though God's law was important, God's mercy was so much more important; it was only that that could save a man from himself, because no man could keep all the law all the time. “You don't know that,” Valjean began, when Thenardier mused that he would not be going to Heaven. He could have gone off into some sermon about Jesus' grace, and how salvation was not earned but freely given, and that even he, who had been the worst of sinners, had been redeemed through the love and compassion of Christ, and that if he could be saved, anyone could. However, his thoughts were interrupted when Cosette arrived. He had, of course, been hoping that she would not come, but she had worried about her dear Papa; it was just like her tender heart to do so. Though he was still inclined to worry, too, Thenardier had backed up his words with action; he had not killed Valjean. Not yet. Valjean knew in his heart that Thenardier could have done so if he had so chosen. “I am well,” he answered, truthfully, though as his hand found Cosette's, he kept his eyes on Thenardier's face. As she had called him Papa, it was impossible that Thenardier had failed to recognize that this must be Cosette. Valjean was too old to have had another daughter. Though he wanted to trust Thenardier, he was still made uncomfortable as Thenardier waxed poetic on Cosette's beauty. He held her hand a little tighter. “This is an old acquaintance,” he offered Cosette, his voice somewhat faint. “Answer his question, my child, and then we shall not keep him any longer.”	[atrb=width,140] words , enough tagged , cosette & monsieur t notes , not my best, sorry!
[cs=2] TEMPLATE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING OF CAUTION 2.0

[Deleted]

Flowers. Everywhere. Red. White. The sweet aroma filled the air. For once, the mud and horse manure was barely…yeah no….but one can dream. Marius was far above the shit in the streets as he glided toward the busy streets on the day of the festivities. The young man was floating on air with thoughts of his blonde angel floating around in his head. He knew his mind should be elsewhere. Enjolras already seemed less than pleased with him. Alas, this was a day of celebration…and yet it was of the utmost importance to Marius and Le Amis. Thinking of the work at hand pulled a deep seated sigh from his chest. Marius was beginning to lose the love-lust sparkle until he saw it-

A mound of luscious blonde curls- but then it turned around. A less than angelic face was master of those tresses. The creature, for she could be called such, turned to face him with breasts barely tamed by a dirty, ill-fitting corset. Marius quickly deflected his gaze. Thankfully, it fell upon the flower stand. Brilliant! If nothing else, he should not be caught unprepared. Prepared? Could he every feel prepared in regards to this beauty he had only just glimpsed? Courfeyrac had been trying to bolster his courage. Marius swore he would do his best to honor his feelings, to be a young man, to charge! But all that bolstering meant nothing as the thought of actually speaking to her overwhelmed him. His palms grew moist with sweat as he marched closer to the flower stand only to see quite a few people gathered there.

Marius tried to elbow his way to the front amongst people of every station doing all sorts of odd things. His elbow finally laid a frustrated jab into the side of none other than Louis Thenardier. ”Many pardons, sir.” Marius was unaware of whom he may have injured or what their reaction might be. Everyone was shuffling. Marius found a hole and pounced. He was oblivious to the others he was engaged with as well. Ironic, comedic…there are many words for it. Marius had plainly slipped right past the very object of his every emotional and physical desire in pursuit of a simple flower that he could only hope might survive the day and find a home tucked behind her delicate ear. If untouched, Marius would continue forward toward the counter to purchase one single white flower of the most precious beauty with a small portion of the money from his aunt. He had accepted her last donation and given most of it to Enjolras. There were a few coins he saved for himself- for her.


((Feel free to let him pass if you'd like! I hope you don't mind that he passed by. If ya would prefer me to delete, I don't mind! Just send me a pm.)

[followedmyheart]

*---TO SEE YOU AGAIN,
SMILED AND SAID YES I THINK WE'VE MET BEFORE ?
--------------------------------------------------

Cosette returned the man's small smile with one of her own. Any aquaintence of her father's was an acquaintence of hers. How did they know eachother? Papa did not work. They must have met before Cosette entered her father's life. He kept that so shrouded however, Cosette would never know.
"Bonjour Monsieur," she remembered her manners and inclined her head in proper greeting. She exchanged looks with her father as the other man did, wondering if he were going to supply an answer as to how these two men met. Her father was a well supplied man whereas his aquaintance had little, perhaps Papa had helped him in some way?
The strange man was quite social for having just met Cosette and she wondered faintly if she had not already met him when she was a small child. His face bore some resemblence, but none more than to someone she may have seen passing the streets earlier today. She felt slightly uncomfortable that he complimented her looks, having only just met him. However, if he was someone from earlier in her life that she failed to remember, then he must assume that they were on friendly enough terms to call her lovely.
Cosette stayed mute and looked at her father again, whose hand on hers had tightened. He still appeared slightly pale. His jaw was tight, a tell tale sign that he uncomfortable. It usually gained the look when she quarreled with him, or when he was under diress.
"I am in good health," she followed her father's orders, giving the simple sum up of her well-fare. "May Day finds me in good spirits as I hope it does you as well."
--------------------------------------------

TEMPLATE CREDIT:

[/b] TANA @ COSMO?![/center][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]