at the barricade. real loud. this is what happens when one looks at pictures of Kevin Erley and Trent Blanton as fun as this. Rabs was R, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Javert, the Natoinal Gaurd, Feuilly, Gavroche, the bells, the Whore and the barricade. Sophia was Enjy, Jehan, Bahorel, Squeegee man, and Bossuet. Don't worry Enjolratti who may have cause to wonder- this was Rabs being silly; not any of /your/ Grantaires. Really!Grantaire:"Marry me, Enjolras!"And now...
E!: "What? In the middle of an emeute?"
R: "What, we're gonna live long enough to do it after?"
E!: "No. But..." *E! suddenly realizes there are disadvantages to dying young. Merde*
R: "But...?" *R lives for the moment. Bats eyelashes hopefully*
E!: *sighs. Looks at gun-wielding comrades, then back to eyelashy R* "Will this take long?"
R: *grins* "nope. Combeferre's registered with the universal life church. He married Joly and bossuet last week. Five minutes, tops. You want a honeymoon, that could take longer." *grins wider*
E!: "He's what?" *glances over at Certified Combeferre, eyebrows narrowed. He might have guessed.* "Well. If you want to. We can get married. Quickly. Our honeymoon can be overthrowing the government!"(Who says Enjy doesn't know how to comprimise?)
R: *sighs resignedly. Mutters* "Well, mostly, anyway." *figures there'll have to be an hour or two when the natn'l gaurd aren't attacking... skips over to Rev. Combeferre*
E!: *doesn't catch R's mumbling. Is too busy having pre-wedding jitters. Is forced to jog over to Combeferre, so's not to look like he's following R.*
Rev. Combeferre: *Listens mildly to R's request. Hugs them both and bursts into sobs* "Oh, i am so happy for you both! It's about time you settled down, Enjolras!"
R: *considering that they'll all be dead in a little while, thinks it's about /damn/ time.*
E!: *hugs Combeferre stiffly, trying to keep his hands from shaking. He's not supposed to get nervous, dangit.* "I suppose."
rev... or rabbi!? Combey: *puts on yarmeluke and prayer shawl; opens Torah. "now, who's the best man... or men, rather?"
R: *holds E!'s hands to keep them from shaking. Awww.*
Enjy: *realizes his only friend is performing the ceremony and eyes the crowd critically. Hangs on to R's hands gratefully in a sacrifice to extreme cuteness.* "Courfeyrac?"
R: *realises that leaves him with very few other choices. Ponders. Squeezes E!'s hands.* "um, Bahorel. he's still alive, inn't he?"
Bahorel: *from heap of dead bodies* "It's only a flesh wound!" *begins dragging himself forward by his hands. Doesn't wanna miss this.*
Rabbi Combey: *scratches his chin. yanks a forelock. checks his notebook... no, last kaddish was for prouvaire. ah well. some you miss.* "That will do. Do you have rings?"
Courfey: *wonders which will throw the bouquet, and which the garter.*
E!: *is wondering same thing. Who wears garters, anyhow?* "I don't. This has been rather sudden."
R: *snaps E!'s garter belt mischieveously. they hold up socks, silly.*
Bahorel: *manages to make it to wherever he's supposed to stand...lie..., ignoring the trail of blood he's left...*
Rabbi Combey: *is oblivious. sniffles* "isn't it always though? how romantic." *sniffles some more. tries not to cry on his torah*
Enjy: *jumps. Oh, those. He thought garters were snakes. Needs to pay more attention to fashion, does E!...*
Gavroche: *being a thenardier; swipes a couple of rings from dead bodies and grinning, runs them up to E! & R*
R: *grins*
E!:*is momentarily unhappy at the prospect of being married with a Police Academy class of 1828 ring Gavvie swiped from one of the Guard corpses, but is distract by R's lovely....um, no...handsome...no....interesting smile.*
Courfey: *hands combey a hanky. He always cries at weddings. And laughs at funerals... cannot figure out which this is, so he sort of hiccups*
rabbi Combey: "dearly beloved, we are gathered here..."
R: *catches E!'s distraction, and wonders if the kissing part /really/ has to wait until the ceremony is over.*
Joly: *tries to figure out what's wrong with Courfeyrac*
Courfey: "hey! watch what you're doin with that thermometer!"
Joly: *smirks* E!: *decides it would relieve some of his stress, anyhow, and kisses R.*
Courfey: *narrows eyes*
R: *thinks E! is a mind reader and kisses back*
Joly: "Just testing your reflexes..."
E!: *is a mind reader. His latent psi talent has been buried for years by extremely poor people skills*
Combey: *bawls!* "it's s-so b-beautiful..." *through sobbing, "I n-now pronounce you Married Citizens of the French Republic. B-be happy and prosperous and, and..." *colapses in tear-fit. blows nose on leviticus*
Courfey: "i thought you were married to bossuet..."
R: *finds, suddenly, that he is linked to Enjolras. Ye gods that boy's mind is so... spartan... not a single rambling monoulouge in sight. but damn if he aint a good kisser.*
Joly: "But he's at the other end of the barricade, and we're about to die." *scowls. Sighs.*
Courfey: *hiccups. Thinks Joly is really cute when he scowls like that.*
Combey: *sobs more; whimpering at his own, barren hand. He is so unloved.*
E!: *is somewhat overwhelmed by R-thoughts, but up to the challenge. Though if he gets hit by one more stray allusion...*
Jehan: *is overwhelmed with sympathy for poor Combeferre. Gives him a hug.*
R: *clears his mind of everything but pure, unadulterated lust. Is the Zen Master. Thinks that there is a black curtain in the basement (not to mention the entire wine and brandy ration)... *
Joly: *scowls winningly at Courfey*
old maid Combey: *sobs on Jehan's shoulder*
Bahorel:*glares at Joly and Courfeyrac. He's the one who needs medical attention...*
Courfey: *grins at Joly through the hiccups. can't help Bahorel; unless he wants to sue the national gaurd for damages*
Bahorel:"Damn. Knew I should have gotten that law degree..."
Feuilly: *fans poor Bahorel. he doesn't know much about medicine either, but thinks that all of this mess probably has something to do with Poland.*
E!: *checks his watch. He doesn't die for another few hours. Makes his way towards the basement, pulling R by the hand.*
Jehan: "There, there..."
Bahorel: *believes Feuilly. Lousy Poles! Appeciates the fanning, though.*
R: *is pulled. runs through a mental agenda of Things To Do for next few hours, for E!'s benifit. Carpe diem- or noctem, after all*
Combey: *wails* "I don't wanna die alone... unloved... a vir... um, a virtuous bachelor..."
E!: *mind boggles. They're not going to be making lint and bandages?*
R: Nope.
E!: Oh. Okay.
R: *has some other ideas about bandages, though. bandage, bondage... comme ca.*
E!: *thinks it is better to die free men than to live slaves. Himself. But R's free to do whatever he wants...*
R: to you, even? *grins disarmingly*
E!: *weighs liberte vs. fraternite. Decides it depends on how much brandy is actually down there*
R: *thinks they'd better go find out. Thinks E! is probably more of a dom than a sub anyway.*
Feiully: *sympathises deeply with bahorel. gets some lint and bandages from the basement before it becomes, erm, occupied.*
E!: *agrees. Aside from his stint with the circus. But that was all a strange dream, right?*
Bahorel: *jeers at the NG from his pool of blood on the ground behind the barricade*
R: *nodnods. Absolutely right. No singe-marks on his vest after all, right?*
National Gaurd: *moon the insurgents* "nyah nyah nyah!"
Bahorel:*flips off NG*
E!: *where did those come from, anyhow?*
NG: *throws rice at insurgents*
R: Does it really matter?
E!: No. *doesn't expect the vest'll be on for much longer, anyhow. Goes behind black curtain*
R: *agrees. Wholeheartedly. Grabbing several bottles of liquor, follows E! behind curtain*
Les Miserables: *try to eat the rice*
Combey: *cries Harder. sings* "wedding bells are ringing... somewhere else. not here."
Bells: *are st-Merry, being overrun*
Squegee man: is fighting a whore for a grain of rice.
Whore: "whatcha think yer at, hangin round me pitch..." *pulls his hair*
Jehan: *holds Combeferre tightly. Is moved to tears.*
Squeegee man: "Honest living! Feliz navidad?" *hits her w/ squeege*
Combey: *is also moved. Kisses Jehan's tears away*
NG: *awwwws. is moved too.*
Whore: "Joyeux noel!" *strangles him with boa*
Javert: *tied to a post (thank goodness, not in the basement) yells,* "honest work, just reward..."
Squeege: *chokes*
Jehan: *melts. Returns Combey's kisses, overcome with emotion.*
Bahorel: *jeers at l'Inspecteur*
Combey: *devolves into furious out-making with Jehan. becomes real enough to whisper, panting*, "but I /am/ saving myself for marriage..."
L'inspectur: "anarchist brat! if I wern't all tied up and helpless..."
Courfey: *checks to make sure Bossuet isn't anywhere around and kisses Joly*
Bahorel: "You wanna piece of me? You wanna piece of me, huh? I could so take you." *grabs knife and begins dragging himself along ground to find Javvie and cut his ropes so they can attack each other*
Javvie: *wonders where exactly this ruffian wants to take him? he was just going to beat him into as bloody pulp. Snarls wordless reply*
Jehan: "But - but...marriage is bad! Marriage is stifling!"
Bahorel: *is already bloody pulp. Keeps crawling*
Joly: *kisses Courfey back. Hopes he won't catch anything.*
Combey: "but, but... " *pouts and sobs* "sex without marriage perpetuates all sorts of diseases..."
Courfey: *just got tested last week. is clear.*
Joly: *EEEPS!*
Joly: *rationalizes that he's married, so it's safe. He just ain't married to Courfey.*
Courfey: *is also a latent psi. Thinks that such rationalisatons are good enough for him. Keeps kissing Joly.*
Jehan: *siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiighs. Looks longingly at Combeferre.* "But - oh my love! In that case, do you want to get married right now? *figures he's supposed to be dead already, and Combey hasn't got much time left...though that thought makes him cry again*
Combeferre: *tears begin to dry up; but the sight of Jehan crying and the thought that he's already dead stars the blubbering once more...* "b-but who will marry us? I'm the only priest..." *wonders if police officers can perform weddings.*
Javert: *mocks the crawling bahorel.* "oh, what're you going to do, punk... nibble my ankles?"
Javert: *is wearing thick leather boots anyway.*
Jehan: "Enjolras is the High Priest of the Republic, but I don't think we should bother him right now..."
Combey: "but... you want to marry me?" *sniffs*
Bahorel: *spits at Javert* Laugh now, fascist bastard! *will chew through leather, if necessary. But would rather break his kneecaps.*
Javert: *would kick Bahorel, but his feet are tied together too. settles for snarling unflattering monarchist things and spitting back*
NG: *thinks that the barricade is too entertaining to shoot. munches popcorn*
Jehan: *flutters eyelashes hopefully. Hands Combey a gaudy lacy handkerchief* "If you'll have me?"
Combey: *takes hanky and Jehan's hands, looks away demurely.* "I... oh Jehan!" *throws his arms around the poet, weeeping now tears of utter bliss* "Je t'aime!"
Bahorel: *finally reaches Javert and begins sawing at his ropes, because it's no fun beating up someone tied to a post*
Jehan: "Je t'aime aussi, mon cher, cher ami..." *begins spouting poetry in French*
Javert: *ate his wheaties this morning. busts through sawed ropes and begins swinging and clawing wildly at Bahorel*
Combeferre: *closes his eyes and sighs tremulously, carried away on wings of poetry... murmurs, "you know, affianced is about as good as married..."
Bahorel: *attacks Javert's kneecaps, a rabid bundle of bleeding republican rage!*
Javert: *stomps on Bahorel's head. Joe Peci stomping action!!! Vive le Roi!*
Jehan: "It is..." *kisses his fiance's hand, a la the sleazy salesman in Oklahoma.* "I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you." *and soforth.*
Bahorel:*SEETHES! Grabs Javert's ankles and pulls him off-balance, so he slips*
Combeferre: *is transported on wings of love. He does not think it is pointless. Swoons.*
Javert: *slips in pool of blood; comes crashing down on top of Bahorel*
Bahorel:"HaHA!"
Javert: *snarls!*
Bahorel:*claws at bloody l'inspecteur. This is more like it! Red EVERYWHERE!*
Javert: *no matter how much he pounds and pounds the bloody revolutionary, he KEEPS ON FIGHTING!! DAMN!!! goes into Police Brutality Rage; clawing and biting and kicking.*
Bahorel: *eyes burn with the flame that never dies. is beaten, bruised, and bloodied, but manages to stay alive. Gnaws feebly at Javert's wrist, hoping to hit an artery.*
Javert: gets some of the blood in his mouth. Mmm. Salty... starts drinking Bahorel's blood.*
Bahorel: *tries to fight Anne Ricean ecstasy, because he doesn't want to have his blood drunk, dammit! Really! Would yell for help, if that wasn't such a sissy thing to do.*
Javert: *gets high on the adrenalin running through Bahorel's veins. Drinks greedily; gorging himself in ways described only in Interview through the Vampire Armand.
Bahorel: *grits teeth. Must...not....succumb....*
Javert: *grits teeth, but in Bahorel's neck. growls* "Yield, boy..."
Jehan: *fights urge to go write about poetic bloody scene upstairs and snuggles Combey instead*
rabsiquinn: Combey: *does what he can to focus Jehan's poetic urges right here.*
Bahorel:*will evaporate in a puff of smoke if he yields to a monarchist. Instead, manages finally to break through the skin on J's wrist and begins drinking the Inspector's blood.*
Javert: *aiii!!! drinks HARDER! he cannot succumb to a Septembrist! it is not in his... well, blood!*
Bahorel: *can out-drink any snuff-inhaling trenchcoated royalist pansy on the block! Or thinks he can, anyhow. Drinks faster!*
Javert: *Can NOT!!! snarling, drinks, um... wetter! (groans a bit at the really bad rent reference)*
Bahorel & Javert: *turn each other into anemic moderate VAMPIRES!!!*
Combeferre & Jehan: Disappear behind tacky, frilly, garishly-colored curtain, not to be seen again until E! or someone emerges to drag Combey off to get shot*
NG: *get bored and fire Arttillery at Barricade; and lone Ami upon barricade, Bossuet. (always unlucky, he...)*
Bossuet: *has only one life to give for la Republique, and gives it. Expires*
sillyursula: Joly: "Mon mari!"
Courfeyrac: "So... you're a widow, now?"
Joly& Courfeyrac: *run off to Vegas and live happily ever after*
Barricade: *collapses anticlimactically under National gaurd fire*
NG: "bored. Leaving." *goes away, twirling bayonets and playing drum rolls*