Post by msieurthernadier on Feb 11, 2013 16:09:39 GMT -5
All Louis had wanted to give her was the best years of her life. He wanted her to be happy and smiley and he wanted her to play with her toys and to live in peace and harmony. Louis had wanted the best for her and he always had and he still did. He was getting older and as he pushed past some dandy who would have taken offense had the man not realised who he was to take offense with. Louis stepped into the booth, he took off his hat and breathed through his nose as he was want to do when he was thinking. The ends of his ornate and rather dashing mustache were twirled to perfection, he had shaved today and sure his black hair was greasy and lank on his squarish head. He pursed his lips and gave it a little more thought tapping his finger against his face in a slightly comical manner he reached under his coat and pulled out a knife. The knife was razor sharp, so sharp Louis imagined it was probably dangerous to be throwing it around all over the place. To him it was a simple toy, he knew that he was more skilled with a knife and his cleaver than any other man in Paris and every other man in Paris knew that as such.
He reached for the knife and admired it for a second, truly a perfect example of weaponry and one that he had cared for and part of a set he had taken care of as if it were a third daughter to him. For all of his so-called 'principles' Louis Thenardier was under no apprehension that people wanted him dead and as much as he was unafraid it always paid to be ahead. So he'd play the usual game for deciding things. The knife game. He took a piece of chalk from his pocket and drew a cross. If he hit the cross dead on and if he didn't, he'd make his choice.
Thud, twang as the knife held in the wood. Of course it was dead on. Crossing off his choice and placing his vote in the box he pulled his knife out of the wall and exited. He knew he could count on at least a few more votes if he called in some favours
He reached for the knife and admired it for a second, truly a perfect example of weaponry and one that he had cared for and part of a set he had taken care of as if it were a third daughter to him. For all of his so-called 'principles' Louis Thenardier was under no apprehension that people wanted him dead and as much as he was unafraid it always paid to be ahead. So he'd play the usual game for deciding things. The knife game. He took a piece of chalk from his pocket and drew a cross. If he hit the cross dead on and if he didn't, he'd make his choice.
Thud, twang as the knife held in the wood. Of course it was dead on. Crossing off his choice and placing his vote in the box he pulled his knife out of the wall and exited. He knew he could count on at least a few more votes if he called in some favours