If You Shoot Us In The Back... (Max)

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

For someone so lively and bouncy, Mylène was actually pretty good at waiting, at least she could surprise herself with her patience when being on the prowl. It was something she had had to learn in her years as a street urchin, since you could not just rush into stealing and pickpocketing without spying on your victim or the place first. Overhasty reaction could leave you with one hand less all too soon, or even without your life. It felt peculiar, but also good, to be doing such a thing again. Mylène was leaning nonchalantly against a house wall, keeping an eye on the large estate house on the other side of the street, while making it seem like she was not watching it at all. He was in there…and soon he would come out again. Max… that little rat who had thought himself so unbelievably smart, hiding his proper identity. But she had senses something, had sensed it all along. You just couldn’t pose as a gamin while you were none, something ALWAYS gave you away to be of higher birth. He had tried of course, tried really hard… and she had yet to find out why.

Her instincts of course told her to be wary. It wouldn’t be the first time someone of the high and mighty would use a kid as a spy and gather information by infiltrating a certain group of interest. No one would suspect a kid. Mylène had been living under Alain Le Corbeau a few years and therefore had learned certain things about the art of infiltration and information gathering, and it had left her to be quite wary indeed. So she had started to follow Max, curious of where he would go when he felt himself being unobserved, and where he actually belonged to. He just didn’t have that usual street kid flair about him, as if he really slept out in the street or in the Court des Miracles at night. And her instincts had not fooled her, she had watched him come here and not come out for quite some time. A casual question to the right person had told her that it was the house of the De Laviers, wealthy aristocratic pains in the backside. She had put two and two together then, and the conclusion had made her blood boil. So this little piece of vermin played the gamin, while he probably took every word he overheard the ABC friends say back home to his precious parents. The gall!

She had been waiting outside his house for some time now, until he finally immerged again, cautiously looking left and right before he walked down the streets, but she made sure of not being seen. They might not be on actual friend terms, but he surely would know where to place her, and she didn’t want to give him the chance to run once he realized he had been found out. Oh no! He would have to ask her some questions first! Mylène followed him cautiously and patiently waiting for him to do the one thing she was waiting for: turn into a secluded, deserted small street. … and there he was!
Swiftly and lissomly, she dashed forward and came up behind him, without a warning grabbing his shoulders and pushing him against the wall, her left lower arm pressing against his throat. Mylène didn’t like violence all too much, and she knew she was not the strongest, but it would suffice just well for him. Having to fight tooth and nail to stay alive in the thieving world was definitely paying off now. She could be dangerous, if she only wanted to! The meek didn’t stay alive for long!

“Give me one reason why I should not just smash your windpipe in, treacherous little rat, and make it a good one!” she hissed with the most menacing voice she could muster and glowered down at him. “Playing the street boy, and yet going home to papa and mama noble for dinner, I see how it is! What did you tell them?!”

[maximiliennoelvier]

[atrb=border,0,true] [/style][style=width: 450px; background-color: ffffff; text-align:center; padding: 8px; line-height: 10px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: 000000;][style=background-image:url(http://i47.tinypic.com/33capw3.jpg); width: 252px; height: 138px; float: left; margin-top:10px;] WHEN'S IT GONNA END, HOW WE GONNA LIVE, SOMETHIN'S GOTTA HAPPEN NOW, SOMETHIN'S GOTTA GIVE [/style][style=width: 252px; height: 26px; float: left; margin-top:10px] made by historyofus of caution (In advance the length ran away with me sorry) You hide yourself among them but are not Truly one of them. A Life full of lies, to all around you. You do not tell and you do not show. There is a danger in this when those around you never know. Are you a Judas in their midst? Or comrade who would share their Fate? Are you frightened are you sacred? One does wonder who you are. Now the Time has Come the chance to be honest or fall ever more This day could not get any better. This was a day that had gone from bad to worse, to extremely terrible. Could this day be the worse day of Max's life? Maybe so but Maybe not, time would sort that one out. What was Happening now was of the utmost importance. Max just wanted this whole entire day to end, everyone and everything today seemed to be out to get the young lad. This was a Statement that later would actually come to pass, some would say that this was funny in hindsight. Though Max would certainly not be laughing over it, because it was not funny not one jot. Max knew he would regret his decision to come back to the house today, he had no idea why when had first had that thought it was just as if he knew the day for him would turn on its heels and give him a huge slap in the face. The estate, he had had no wish to go back, and not for very long, actually he had just been hoping to gather some money and food and be off. None of it for him all for the poor, they needed it more than him, after all he was not starving or dying, though he did feel hungrier than normal, but he put that off as nothing. He did not think of himself as important, no he felt himself equal to those around him and out on the street, those on the street though were much better, least they tried to make a living Max's was just was given to him at Birth. Somehow though like most of the people his age and those born into the aristocracy he had avoided the feeling of being entitled to something or becoming a spoilt brat, a bit like his oldest brother if you thought about it. His father was even worse, part of him would love it if he would never have to speak to the despicable man again. Max however still felt though that not everyone in the Aristocracy was bad, he held some faith in it, though not as much as his Father would most likely prefer him to have, it was one of the reasons he had easily found himself at home with being an informant for the Scarlet Pimpernel, not every one of these people had done something wrong, his Father yes, however he certainly knew there were a few other’s that felt for the poor and fewer still who actually supported the idea of a republic. He Knew one, Courfeyrac, he had told him he was one when he had asked about there being any that did want to help, wondering if Courf knew of any. Max had been rather surprised that Courf was, but the fact he had trusted the boy enough to actually tell him made Max feel extremely guilty that he had not told the student that he was an aristocrat as well. The young boy had nearly done it a few times but every time he tried he chickened out, scared that his new found friend the one he felt much more of a brother to him than anyone else would be very much against him, as would the others, plus they might make assumptions. They could just as easily make them if you don't tell them. So yes Max had returned back the Paris estate, for what was it now? Ah yes five days in a row. He had usually been quite erratic with going back but he had not wanted to make his family overly suspicious, as they might ask his uncle questions about if he was staying with him or not. Which he was not, and Nicholas would not be able to cover for him indefinitely that was for certain. You could ask why he still went back, well there were a few simple reasons. One being that while the bond was slowly dissolving like sugar does in a hot drink, he did feel somewhat connected to his family, though his need to be with them was not as strong as it once was. Another reason was the food and money, no not for him fellow readers, but the poor, he had been able to smuggle it out of the house okay not in the last few days as Nicholas had refused to help him, it was usually with Nicholas’s help. Max Knew though how Nicholas really felt about what he was doing and his opinions on the poor, and while he would never say what he wanted to say, the evidence could easily be seen in his older brothers eyes. Max was very much alone in the family when it came to his views. Why Stay with them? Why not leave? Shut the door and bid adieu Live a whole new life There is a different family for you You don’t need them. Follow your dreams, follow what is right. ADIEU ADIEU ADIEU The Young Max was now as he rushed into the house through the back way for all intents and purposes Maximilien, one it was is his full given forename and second it was more fitting for the atmosphere such as this, it had to be used as not to raise suspicion within any in the aristocratic circle who he could have met as Max on the street. The young lad did not want anything to get back to his father or in fact anyone who could use it against his father. There was one aristocrat that Max knew, who knew about his two lives, Sir Percival Blakeney the Englishman who had recruited him as an Informant for the league, he was not sure how he found out but Max was before max got better at hiding his identity. Though as we see later some people would notice things anyway. He had been able to make it to his room and change after a few close shaves with the servants. He had on his glasses, his pure white Shirt, dark brown cropped riding coat, Dark Grey Trousers and black polished boots. It was nothing like he would wear out on the streets and it was a lot more clean, something his mother and father would not freak at him about. His Hair would of been altered slightly if one of the servant's had not chosen that moment to enter his room. His room for that matter was very tidy and full to the brim with books, every one of them had an adventure waiting to be told. The Room it's self though Max labelled rather dull and boring, the walls were a dull shade of white and the bed while soft and feathery just irritated Max just by glancing at it. The Carpet was just as soft but unlike the white walls was an appealing red colour, above the door was the family crest the colour blue with a Mountain in its midst and upon it was the saying. The Peak of Power sits above. He Mumbled this is an angry tone once seeing it too check which servant it was. His Smile all most jumped out of his face when he found it was the women Helena who had worked for the family since he had been born, she was actually one of the most important of the servants, while he was glad to see her he dreaded what she had come here for. "Master Maximilien your Father is entertaining guests in the sitting room, your Aunt Victoria Moors among them, he had requested for the whole Family to Attended" He gave a sharp nod, he would have to go and Nicholas would be there so he might be able to get what he wanted as long as he endured this hell for a few hours. "Thank you Helena was their anything else?" He was formal here but they both knew they were friends. She told him there was not and he departed giving her a friendly smile. The gathering had been what he expected some assembled jumped up, spoilt brats of aristocrats talking about the May day event and the Masquerade, oh yes and his father’s business ventures. There was other random nonsense but to be honest Max had tuned it all out and it was all rather dull, in the end he had lost himself in one of his books to pass the time. He used all the proper codes of conduct and addresses when speaking but his heart was not into it. He was able to bend his brother's ear for money but not food, it was good enough. He was able in the end to excuse himself and he knew that once again Nicholas would cover for him. Now As he was dressed back up in street clothes and having forgone the glasses and he escaped out the back he noticed Helena waiting for him. He Frowned and approached her, she smiled kindly understanding, he grinned back at her handing her a few coins at what she was about to say, something she had no need to say, here yes said it for her. Keep safe child He smiled and gave her a hug something that would give his father a heart attack. "I will don't ya worry about me Helena, thank you. I Know he won't but I hope father treats you well" With one last smile he turned the corner of the house and head back out into the streets once more. Look behind you. A Shadow that you know. A shadow of a Girl. Fiery and furious. Her Threats are very serious . We told you so. Now Max really should have slapped himself silly considering the two stupid things that lead him to the position that he was in now. One you should always check behind you, even if you don't suspect anything, it was always a precaution that one must take because you were never, ever truly safe out on the streets. The other was turning into a secluded street which was totally deserted, he had not really been thinking he was in a good jovial mood, a mood that would vanish seconds later. You better choose. Or you lose. You know that Honesty here would be the best policy Panic that's all Max felt, his mind was in total disarray, okay he could get a few thoughts together, but if you expected him to lie convincingly then you had another thing coming. The Boy was a terrible liar when being pressured or I don't know threatened by a girl much older than him, pushed against a wall and such. He was resolved to being brave though and tried to hold any fear that he felt at bay, he may find himself easily intimidated but he kept the mask of bravery. I Know Her she's from the Cafe The Girl she was Mylene, one of the first of the Amis, she was quite a friendly person from what he had seen of her Yeah well look now she's down right terrifying, he wanted to look anywhere but her face, the look she was giving him would make even strong willed men melt. Panic had now swam into his eyes, and he opened his mouth to try speak but the fact she had her arm squashing his windpipe somewhat he found it a lot harder to speak, it was more horse than anything. "What' n...no ....... y...ou….." He coughed and looked her in the eye and groaning a little Lying wont suffice here maybe the truth no the whole truth though, she surely won’t kill me If I tell her why I do this..... um Will she? He was not sure but he needed to act fast and before he lost his entire ability to speak for that matter, be it through a crushed windpipe or having been frightened into silence. "N....n..noth...in pl...plea...se let ah m...e g..o, it." He looked at her pleadingly gesturing with the little movement he could to his throat, he could barely speak as it was and he was unsure if she could understand him all that well. There were no tears in his eyes he had not broken down that far yet he was still trying to be brave, they were wet though, and shone a little. Nothing? Dear god like she will believe that. With what he said next with all the passionate venom he could muster he spoke still hoarsely"I Ha..te th..e..m, i'm no..t a Triat...or le...t me... go I wi...ll e...xpla..in." He hoped to god that this would work, it was best he could think up given his present state. Max did not want to die and he was trying his best not to, he was hoping he could make her believe him. (............ is because he can't talk very well)

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[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

Mylène knew the power of fear very well, she had lived with fear ever since she could remember. In the beginning it had been the fear of being beaten or otherwise abused, a fear that had been a faithful companion for her and all the factory childrend throughout every day and night. Then had come the fear of being caught stealing, imprisoned somewhere, losing your hand or losing your life. No one really cared for the gamins and gamines of Paris,they were a black number, one more or less would never truly make anyone shed tears of pain or remorse. There were so many things that could strike fear in a young gamins heart: the heavy thudding of boots which indicated constables were nearby, the clinking of metal, or even just the sound of a voice, belonging to a person you feared. Mylène knew very well how fear made it impossible to think sometimes, and really really difficult to lie.

And this was exactly why she had wanted to strike fear into the young boys heart. She wanted the truth out of his mouth, not some very well thought up cover story she would never be able to prove right or wrong. The sooner and the more menacing she acted, the greater was her chance of actually getting this reply. Mylène didn’t stop to wonder why it even concerned her so much. Les Amis were her friends as well, and since they were not exactly letting her in on everything, she at least wanted to help in the only way she could: having their backs. She had noticed Courfeyrac forming a kind of bond to this Max – if that even was his true name – and she did not want him – or any of the friends for that matter – fall into any traps they were not able to spot because of their … inaptitude and ignorance concerning the laws of the street. They simply could be too idealistic at times, not having grown up amongst falsehood and treachery. And now she would make sure that this little rat could not harm them!

Just that she probably should give him the chance to speak after all, and that might prove a little difficult with his throat pressed between cold stone and her arm. Oops. She would not let him go completely though, she wasn’t stupid, but she would at least give him a little more space to breathe. Not that she was really impressed by his pitiful and scared expression, that could all be show, but she was starting to think she might have overreacted at least a teeny tiny bit. Removing her arm from his throat, she instead put both hands on his shoulders, still keeping him pressed against the wall. Now she only had to pray no constable would find his way down this alley anytime soon. “Ye hate 'em? Sure… what d’ye think ye are, little rat? A French type o’ Robin Hood? As if tha’ story wasn’t getting’ old! Rich kid wi’ a big heart for the masses? Tha’s not ‘ow a kid woul’ think, they take wha’ comin’ their way, be it dirt or luxury.” That was nothing if not true, Mylène had lived amongst enough kids. It was a small miracle the Amis themselves were showing so much interest in a better world,but she blamed that on their studies. Hearing the dreamers speak of equality and liberty all the time must cause something in your brain. But this boy here was no student. He was just a little rich kid.

“So… who are ye working for? I dun think yer doin this jus’ because you’re bored. Or… maybe ye’re… wouldn’ put tha’ past ye!” After all, boredom could make you do the funniest things… not that Mylène knew the luxury of being bored.

[maximiliennoelvier]

[atrb=border,0,true] [/style][style=width: 450px; background-color: ffffff; text-align:center; padding: 8px; line-height: 10px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: 000000;][style=background-image:url(http://i47.tinypic.com/33capw3.jpg); width: 252px; height: 138px; float: left; margin-top:10px;] WHEN'S IT GONNA END, HOW WE GONNA LIVE, SOMETHIN'S GOTTA HAPPEN NOW, SOMETHIN'S GOTTA GIVE [/style][style=width: 252px; height: 26px; float: left; margin-top:10px] made by historyofus of caution There were many ways to get out of this situation and only one of them would lead to not getting into any more trouble, though it could have two different endings. One of the ways he was thinking was wait for an opportune moment and try a make a run for it, it might be difficult but he was fast he was sure he could get away, but then was she fast? He was pretty sure she knew the streets better than him at least, this option could easily turn into a complete disaster for Max, it would make him look guilty and have everything to hide, confirm what she believes about him and he would never be able to go to the Amis again. No then that option was out and should not even be attempted. Another would be bluffing his way out and lying, something that was difficult at the comment and while he was an okay lier he was not the best. Yes maybe not that option either. Another was someone like a constable coming around the corner and sorting it out, she would surely run away, but then to come back at a later time, though he would rather run as well not wanting to be found, plus the hassle was not worth it so he hoped no one turned up as well. The Last one or at least one of the last ones was through use of honesty or at least half truths, he would not reveal being an informant for the league, but using honesty might get him through this if not the other outcome was something extremely bad happening like death. Okay she might not even try and kill him but Max himself certainly thought so at this point. Max would rather sort this out himself and that was what he would try to do There were many ways to get out of this situation and only one of them would lead to not getting into any more trouble, though it could have two different endings. One of the ways he was thinking was wait for an opportune moment and try a make a run for it, it might be difficult but he was fast he was sure he could get away, but then was she fast? He was pretty sure she knew the streets better than him at least, this option could easily turn into a complete disaster for Max, it would make him look guilty and have everything to hide, confirm what she believes about him and he would never be able to go to the Amis again. No then that option was out and should not even be attempted. Another would be bluffing his way out and lying, something that was difficult at the moment and while he was an okay liar he was not the best. Yes maybe not that option either. Another was someone like a constable coming around the corner and sorting it out, she would surely run away, but then to come back at a later time and try find him, though he would rather run as well not wanting to be found, plus the hassle was not worth it so he hoped no one turned up as well. The Last one or at least one of the last ones was through use of honesty or at least half truths, he would not reveal being an informant for the league, but using honesty might get him through this, if not the other outcome was something extremely bad happening like death. Okay she might not even try and kill him but Max himself certainly thought so at this point. Max would rather sort this out himself and that was what he would try to do. The Young boy certainly feared her for now at least, she knew how to make sure someone was scared enough to tell the truth. Max recognized why it was being used, however that did not stop him feeling frightened of what could happen and how she was acting. So many thoughts had been rushing through his head ever since she had first attacked, it was almost giving him a headache, along with trying to hold all this fear into him, bits had escaped but he tried to keep calm and collected enough, to try and gather his thoughts and make a coherent sentence. He was glad when she moved her arm away from his throat not only did it stop the hoarseness of his voice and meant he could speak better, but he could spend less time worrying about his throat being crushed and more about what to say, and his thoughts were now somewhat more clear. I Just need to be true to myself that's all, just keep the league out of this conversation. She now had her hands on his shoulders still pinning him to the wall so he was not going anywhere, not that he wanted to, the boy wanted to defend himself. Coughing somewhat he finally felt it easier to talk. He did frown though at what she said looking at her like she had said something strange and alien. "Robin hood whose that?" asked mainly out of curiosity almost forgetting that he was the one being questioned here, he did however take some offence at being told kids take what was coming their way, and frowned again. "Maybe but why should I live in Luxury while other's suffer and starve," he stopped smiling sadly, even if his eyes were betraying him in terms of feeling fear the rest of him well was trying to show nothing. He did however have a better response one that was also included in response to what she last said. " If I'm workin for someone it's myself, I chose to try live away from the aristocracy a different life, at first it was for adventure excitement, but I saw how it was out here the suffering it's terrible upsetting, how can my Father and the other's in the aristocracy turn a blind eye to it?" He took a breath coughing again from earlier, his tone had taken on one passionate but desperate to get it out. "I thought I'd be able to help them out, I Wish things were fairer, out in the streets you guys struggle to make a living, you actually work, I get money for doing nothing there's no equality in that." He ended there lost for breath hoping he had made his point a little bit though he might have gotten a bit lost in what he was saying. He had always been different from his father though in the belief of the republic, he quickly spoke once more coughing a little as he did."I Joined the Amis because I do hold their believes I'm telling the truth in that, I’d never betray them not at all." He shook his head speaking fast the fear still there in his eyes, the worry still there in his head Please believe me please for god’s sake he did not beg with his eyes though he made sure of that.

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[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

Mylène was by no means in the mood for tergiversations or any changes of the original topic. So that kid didn’t know Robin Hood? Typical… the famous balads were probably only conveyed amongst the jugglers these days, and he must have missed the performances. Had probably been too busy fooling everyone, what did she care?! She would NOT let herself be swayed from the actual point of this confrontation, if if that was what he probably wished. He would speak, and he would tell the truth, until she was satisfied to know the reason of his odd behaviour. For odd it was. Mylène had met many children grown way beyond their age due to necessity, but what necessity would this little kid have to be so wise? He must have lived the best life imaginable, toys, friends, three or more meals a day and everyone seeing to his every wish. Didn’t that usually leave them to be younger than their actual age and not older? It was a mystery… unless of course he was still telling her fibs.

It just didn’t want to get into her head, how out of character he acted for a boy his age. Why would a boy even have the eyes to see these things, poverty and everything, when 90% of his kind, no matter what age, did not see or had learned to ignore it, had even been TAUGHT to ignore it? But that was a mystery she would either solve later or not at all. Right now she still had to get the truth out of him, and even though he didn’t seem like much of a threat now, she had to make sure. It was the only thing she seemed to be able to do for the friends anyway. They were independant in so many ways, they would never let her fight alongside them, so better keep their backs clear of any backstabbing gits by keeping her eyes open. After all, hadn’t Courf called her ‘smart’ because of it? ‘You’re smart when you use your eyes and ears’. Alright, so she would be smart, street-smart if you like.
“Yer talkin’ like some old professor, yet I dun see a grey hair on ye”, she snorted, shaking her head. “Or ye listened too much t’Enjolras’ speeches... tha’ guy can do funny things with ye’ head, even though ye hardly get wha ‘e’s meanin’ mos’ of the time!”

His next comment made her laugh outright. Not an amiable laugh, she was far too disbelieving for that, it sounded hard and almost condescending, Seriously, in what land did this guy live, the state of delusion?! It certainly could not be the same land Mylène was living in! He thought he was WITH the ABC friends? Joined them even?! No one was a member of the Amis as of yet, they were a sworn in brotherhood and Courf’s invitation to one of their close meetings had felt like an accolade of sorts to Mylène, a sign that at least one of them finally thought her worthy to at least listen to some of their more secret plans now they had the headquarter.
“Correction”, she interrupted him curtly, her speech suddenly very precise and pointed as she did want to get this across. “You did not join the lads, you might have fluttered about them on some occasions, and maybe fooled Courf into finding you cute enough to share his thoughts with you. But you are not belonging to them. All I want to know is why ye’ve approached them in the first place. An’ I dun believe half of ye sappy words. Jus’ so ye know.”

Really... this was getting more of a joke and far more complicated than she first had thought. For... if she did not believe his entirely noble motives, what else could be the real reason? She would have to ask more questions... Precise ones, maybe that would get him talking. Why couldn’t life be simply these days? Truly... you could get a headache from all this trouble!

[maximiliennoelvier]

[atrb=border,0,true] [/style][style=width: 450px; background-color: ffffff; text-align:center; padding: 8px; line-height: 10px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: 000000;][style=background-image:url(http://i47.tinypic.com/33capw3.jpg); width: 252px; height: 138px; float: left; margin-top:10px;] WHEN'S IT GONNA END, HOW WE GONNA LIVE, SOMETHIN'S GOTTA HAPPEN NOW, SOMETHIN'S GOTTA GIVE [/style][style=width: 252px; height: 26px; float: left; margin-top:10px] made by historyofus of caution He has not been trying to change topic but that thought had occurred to him after the whole mention of this Robin Hood thing, about it being great if asking did change the topic. It would give Max more time to think and come up with better responses and a lie or two if need be. Though telling the truth or at least a version of the truth might be better and much more healthier for him in the long run. Yes it would of been nice to change topics to have her explain who this Robin hood was A story perhaps?, but it was not to be, Mylene wanted to get to the bottom of who Max was, not that he could blame her he would most likely be the same if he was her. Not that he could be her that would just be incredibly wired and strange, no Max was Max and always would be and right now he was in a situation that he would need to wriggle out of. He just had to hope the girl would believe him and in the end not want to kill him, otherwise he would never be able to get what he needed to get done. Max almost sighed as he listened to her response to what he had said, was their anyway she was going to believe him? He knew to version of the truth he could use, that might stop her from being so angry, to calm her down, one of the ideas she might believe. Why's that you ask? Well it coincided with something he was interested in anyway, plus it seemed more realistic in terms of him being with the aristocracy, it would also lessen the idea of him spying on them, might make it harder for him but they would be accepting he was sure of it. Could it work who knew but the boy was going to give it a try that was for sure. Yes he was clear and he might be able to get a lot more information for Percy, he would still be able to sneak around if need be. His views where still the same though as they always would be he had meant what he had said about suffering and Luxury though that bit might of been a bit far, the boy was mainly against his parents values, though he did have some problems with living in Luxury. "Is there something wrong with acting older than you are?" He asked being a bit cheeky, because to be honest he already knew the answer, but his tone was curious he just wanted to test things here. No he was not trying to annoy her he was curious of her reaction, even if he was still somewhat frightened of her. He grinned though at the mention of Enjorlas's speeches, they certainly were something to listen to, one could get lost in those words, the student was incredibly passionate. However maybe it was time to put his idea in action, it was sort of truth after all he was not lying to her. However her response to what he said about being part of the Amis stopped her, this would be the perfect moment to say this, and the idea certainly was damage control good damage control if she went with it that was. "I'm sorry if I got it wrong, no I'm not part of them," neither are you though, your just a barmaid, whose only friends with them. There was no way he was going to say that he had no wish to anger her more than she already was, it would make matters a whole lot worse. Instead he went on with what he was planning, he just prayed it worked. "Look okay fine it's not just all that, because yeah what I said was true see, but well I’m a writer. I got the idea that it would be easier to write if I could observe the going on's out here in the street, I never said anything as I thought if I do people might get the wrong Idea and I thought it was better kept secret, there's no point writing about stuff if you’re not there to see it. It seemed more enjoyable than sitting in my room doing it and being bored, including what I said about my parents is true." He focused putting every effort into the word as if he did not want to say them, though to be honest he did not, it confirmed after all he was an aristocrat considering there was no getting away from that now she had found out, this was just damage control and he did enjoy writing very, very much he did after all want to be a author. Maybe I could make a pseudonym Call myself Victor Hugo yeah sounds like a good name. How had he decided upon this name you ask ? Well you see his great grand father on his mother's side a a very charitable man was Called Victor, and Hugo came from the name of a 25 year old character from a book he had read, one of his favourite characters of all time. He was not sure if he would actually call himself that, there were better names out there but, that was the only one he could think of for now, not that he was going to tell Mylene this. He looked at her waiting hoping she was not going to harm him, she seemed to have calmed down from earlier but her anger was still there and he was sure she had more of it. "I'm sorry for not telling anyone," he added sounding somewhat upset about this fact.

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[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

She had to admit, he had some gall! There he was, one moment stammering and inwardly trembling before her, and now he was already talking back. Now that was something more like what a gamin would do, something that her friends had often done – or she herself. It was even a comment she might have pulled on someone, and therefore, even though she had wanted to stay curt and hard, she couldn’t help a small smile tugging quickly at the corner of her mouth. “Touché, sapling!” she murmured, and loosened her grip around his shoulders a little, though not enough to make it easy for him to escape – she might have a stroke of lenience, but she was not dumb! “Though ye should still be careful… many people dun’ like smart-aleck kiddos, Believe me. I know wha’ I’m talin’ ‘bout.” Not that she was in any way seeing herself in this boy, he was still licking off the silver spoon he had been born with in his mouth, and the indignation he showed might have seemed impressive on a guy double his age – vide Enjolras and Courfeyrac – but as young as she still guessed him to be, it didn’t do without a hint of humour.

He started off another sermon of words, and she prepared herself for another bunch of lies, though what she heard made Mylène chuckle, in a dark way still, but it was a chuckle. A Writer?! Well now there was something sounding just like what a rich kid would do! Given, there were of course adult writers about, but they all were so poor they had to make their living with something else, or else they starved. Take Jacques, one of the regulars at the ABC café. He was a poet, an intellectual, and was forming verses the moment he opened her mouth, but he was a teacher at the same time, earning his and his wife’s daily bread that way. Only someone with too much time on his hand could think of doing a thing as dripping of leisure as writing!
“See, now THA’ is easier te believe, aristo-Max!” she snorted, tossing her hair back over her shoulder with a jerk of her head. “So, yer writin’ about whatcha see? Fill pages o’er pages with yer neat lil handwriting abou’ wha’ the guys are sayin’ at the meetin’s and how the revolution’s comin?” She shook her head and heaved a deep sigh. “Tha’s not only crazy, but tha’s also highly dangerous. D’ye at least hide yer scribblin’s well? An do ye use different names? Wait…” a spark suddenly flickered in her eyes as she cocked her head. “Did ye write ‘bout me as well? ‘Tha’ ol’ mouthy barmaid in the backgroun’?”

It was much to wrap her head around for now, but slowly Mylène thought to see clearer. He was harmless, that was the first point, or he at least SEEMED harmless. But the writer thing irked her a little, and it was not just the peculiar feeling of suddenly having a part of your life being reported by someone else. She was doing a similar thing after all, to practice her meager new aquired writing skills, she was keeping journal.
“Honesty would ‘ave been better, yeah!” she agreed, and searched his gaze, locking it once again. Her gaze was still serious, even though much less threatening. “Honesty’s the best policy here indeed. Ye must tell them quickly, before they find out wha’ I did. Them lads are not daft.” Out of a sudden spark of goodwill, she even added: “I could help, ye know… try an’ be there te mediate. Depends on who yer gonna tell first though.”