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   Iâm a trash bag and Iâll revamp this blog again .  probably cull some muses .  itâs all gonna b very slow though .  I spend all my free time with sam !Â
pontificalandwarlike / ENJOLRAS !Â
      Enjolras shakes his head at Gavrocheâs declaration, hoping fervently that it was merely youthful BRAGGING and not a statement of verified fact. For all the pride that the boy seems to take in that ability, he hates to think of those small wrists pressed against HANDCUFFS, forced to slip themselves free with small nimble fingers in order to reclaim his freedom upon the streets. The image of it, heavy cruel irons against childish flesh, stirs a painful, clenching sort of anger in his chest. Not if I can help it.Â
      He can almost see Gavroche thinking, the steps of logic he employs to stretch his understanding further than what he knows already. It astounds him, sometimes, the bright intuition lurking behind that cocky grin and childish eyes. Gavroche is SMART, fast to learn, nearly as quick in mind as he is on his feet, piercingly insightful when Enjolras least expects it. It pains him, to know that neglect and poverty have robbed the child of the opportunity to LEARN. No child should be denied his education, and yetâŚ.Â
     But now is not the time to dwell on such things. More urgent matters press ââââ like keeping himself and Gavroche safe from the threatening eyes of the authorities, and solving the little problem with the gunpowder. The second he has yet to think of an answer to, but the first he can manage. â Perhaps, â Enjolras says, vaguely. â What say you to DINNER in exchange for⌠services rendered ? â If he frames it as a fair exchange, as a price paid in return for Gavrocheâs work, then perhaps it would rankle less upon the independence of that free spirit, and the boy would be more willing to accept.Â
     HE ROCKS ON HIS HEELS ,  the balls of his feet worn and weathered past the point of ever  aching .  for a moment . he thinks enjolras is going to  SHORT  him .  itâd be quite the betrayal ââââ and a perfect crime as well . because what could he do ?  there is no battle he could win against him ,  except maybe that of  WILLS ;  his brow begins to twist .  bitten lips become a scowl that might be  harsh ,  on an older face .Â
     but enjolras goes on .  he hesitates to answer , still âââââ is the trade fair ?  the money he earns is turned into food ,  yes ; this proposal only saves him a step .  on the other hand , though ,  he does not necessarily have to turn his money into bread  tonight .  he can ration ; he can save .  this works in his favor , sometimes .  it isnât as though the effort of  STEALING  quite troubles him ,  but it saves his energy âââââ and when itâs cold , itâs cold .  and another point not to be missed . . .  there is a chance that he may end up with  MORE  from enjolras than he could buy or conjure up on his own .  he  is  quite hungry ââââ itâs cumbersome ,  running criss-cross through the city . Â
     so he seems unconvinced ,  maybe worried .  but sometimes ,  pure rationale is undone by an empty stomach .   â . . . alright .  THIS  time . â
tobeblamed / DEAN !Â
    â thatâs not what this is about!  â   he snaps without any intention of doing so, but given his worry, he had every right to be angry. he could have been KILLED, and dean would have been the one to bury him. he sighs at his words, as he finds the strength in him to relax his tone. his lips purse together at the thought of losing his father figure. theyâve already lost ellen and jo. thatâs enough.      â i canât lose you, too, bobby. not now âŚÂ not ever.  â  his voice almost breaks as he stares at him. he thought he was over the pain, but it seems tat he needs to learn to live with it.
     THAT IS WHAT THIS IS ABOUT ,  THOUGH ,            at the very root ,  and that doesnât escape him .  wouldnât  escape him , even if he wanted it to .  heâs clenching his jaw âââââ dean is  GROWN ,  and thereâs no reason to be yelling at him like he would a child .  bites on the inside of his cheek while he stares him down .  eventually ,  he gives up with a loud ,  gruff breath .  dean is grown ,  but heâs gawking at him all dewey and   WIDE-EYED .  he comes back a little more careful , too ; no less final .   â yâknow I ainât gonna live forever .  and Iâm sure as  hell  not goinâ to one of them nursing homes where every other suckerâs either a crazy or a mute . â
knifedroses / GALLAGHER !Â
          â       aw no ,  câmon .       â     he holds the wince when mickey punches his arm ;  three brothers ,  and two pushy sisters - heâs used to being a bit of a punching bag .   ian would get up and follow mickey if heâd gone ,  but when all he received was a scowl ,  he wasnât worried .     â      we both know i have ba - hey .      â     he got up from the squatted position to follow behind mickey .   heâs close enough that heâd step on the brunettes heels if he wasnât careful about it .   there are nerves running through him that heâs attempting to swallow ;  he hadnât thought through how difficult robbing the store might actually be .
when they stepped inside ,  he felt the OVERWHELMING feeling that everybody knew that the two didnât belong there .   ian was still seventeen -  though heâd filled out ,  the rush of adrenaline & nerves were giving way to his true age .     â       so ?       â     he leans close to mickey with his voice quiet .   heâd figured mickey would do the talking   (   heâd always seemed to know what to say to scare the shit out of people before - so ian figured he would now   ) .Â
     HEâS NOT HESITATING , BUT HE TAKES       his time .  there is a difference .  the bell rings when he meanders in ,  hands in his pockets ,  eyes on shelves . minding his own business .  outside of their own neighborhood ,  where nobody  knows  him ,  he does a decent job of playing the part .  although , in the back of his mind ,  heâs not really so sure .  he can  FEEL  ian hovering warmly , tall and thin and bright - haired ,  not at all shielded behind short ,  stocky mickey .  this street marks a faux - border between two types of south side . . .  those in the bottom  TAX BRACKET ,  and those who donât pay taxes ,  to begin with .  they might blend ,  they might not . Â
     so ?  mickey wanders all the way down the aisle and back again .  pauses in front of the skin mags hidden at the end for the sole sake of being a piece of  shit  ;  turns to smirk dirty at the boy over his shoulder .  itâs a private joke with himself , at least , if heâs the only one who thinks heâs  funny  ââââ and often , he is .  spots the door to the stockroom and nods to ian ,  a heads up for when he needs it .  trails grimy fingers along the edge of  PRINGLES CANS  and salsa jars on his way back up to the register .  the man behind it looks bored ,  tired .    â yo .  gimme a few packs of newports and ,  uh ,  the money outta the drawer . â
knifedroses / GALLAGHER !Â
        â       theyâre called bonnie and clyde ,  not clyde and the chronicles of not having bonnie .   youâre my bonnie ,       â     he grins ,  knowing the insult laced into the comment - but he thinks heâs clever for referencing mickeyâs position subtly .   when mickey bends down to look at the notes ,  ian holds them up a little more before he turned his head to peer back at mickey .      â       alright .       â     he wonât mention that he hasnât mapped the inside of the store ,  only the outside ,  but it canât be difficult to navigate   (   why would somebody lock the back door   ) .     â       iâm ready if youâre ready .       â     he doesnât need the notebook anymore ,  so he stuffs it into a backpack .   when he looks at mickey itâs expectantly ;  in ianâs mind ,  mickey is a pro .
     OH, THAT IS THE LAST FUCKING STRAW.         â  okay,  you know what ?  youâre on your own , dickbag . â   his fist impacts into ianâs arm , the first piece of him that he can reach .  thinks about gathering himself up , mostly for the sake of teaching a  LESSON âââââ  because ââââââ   because .  the thing that makes him hesitate is that gallagher is an idiot and actually  might  go through with this on his own , and get himself fucking arrested .  and, he doesnât know . . .  MANDY  would probably get all pissed at him for it .  so he doesnât move , but heâs scowling .  it probably doesnât count for shit .   â BEEN  ready .  been waitinâ on you , to , you know .  grow balls , or whatever you gotta do . â   famous last words .  with that as his qualifier , heâs  GALAVANTING  from behind the dumpster , headed across the street to the liquor store .  ian had better stick close behind .  and  BE COOL .Â
tobeblamed / DEAN !Â
    â of course yâcan, bobby. we know you can.  â   there is no doubt that bobby is capable of handling any job. he knows how to hunt better than both brothers, and he has proven that many times. he didnât lack capability      he lacked support.    â  but you shouldâa called us. you needed back-up.  â
      â AND I DONâT NEED THE LECTURE ,      either ! â     thereâs no way heâs gonna stand here and be  scolded  by some kid .  especially not by dean ââââ thank you very damn much .  tongue running slow and fat over the fronts of teeth , he reaches up , pinching hard the bridge of his nose .  heâs getting . . .  heâs getting  OLD .  doesnât mean heâs incapable .  mostly , because if he is . . . well , then what is he capable of ?    â . . . watch your  tone  with me .  if you think youâre about to tell me how to do the  JOB ,  you got another thing cominâ . â
knifedroses / IAN !
          â       alright , gonna hold you to your word ,       â     he warns , biting on his bottom lip to subside the grin that he has .   there was an extraordinary amount of meticulous planning that went into his money - making plan ; his high work ethic was being used in the wrong ways - but it was all by his own accord .   heâd make a shitty  â criminal â any other way .     â       fuck off .       â     he lifts his hand  &  flips the bird for mickey in response to being called a nerd of all things .   but he still checks over his plan twice before he answers :     â       I was thinking you were going to swing into the side of the building and break a huge hole into it that I can climb through ,  then weâre going to get out your gun and start pointing lasers at people and tell them weâre aliens here to rob them .       â     brows were raised a little when he looked up at mickey ,  and smile was still a little suppressed ,     â      front door ,  dumbass .   we donât want to raise suspicion .       â
     HE BUYS IT , FOR ABOUT FIFTEEN SECONDS âââââ          and his incredulous stare becomes sharp for being made the fool .  ian thinks heâs goddamned clever .  motherfucker .  nobodyâs this  smiley  right before they hold up a liquor store .  apparently adrenaline is lost on him , after all .  mickeyâs middle finger fires back .   â WHATEVER .  do this shit yourself , if youâre so goddamn smart . â   he bends at the knees , sinking lower into the depth of the alley where the streetlights have never reached .  peers over ianâs shoulder to check out the apparent  BLUEPRINT  that heâs reading .   â nah .  we go in the front , then  you  go to the managerâs office and get the safe .  prop the back door so we got an out , in case the  CPD  decide to do their jobs tonight .  Iâll stay up front and make sure nobody gets stupid . â
knifedroses / DUMBASS !
         â       weâre not going to get busted .       â          thereâs no guarantee that they wonât ,  aside from promises that ian can haphazard make to mickey .   thereâs a notebook in hand with all the information ian had spent days collecting on his  â stakeout â to check the area out  ( itâs not much more than times people clock in ,  then back out ,  and where all the major doors seem to be ) .   when he opens the page ,  itâs to jot down something he seemed to have forgotten .   mickeyâs comment made him look back up with a little grin ,         â       hopefully your account number for bail loans .   my plans fucking foolproof though .   only way we can get caught is if thereâs too much dust and you fucking sneeze ,  or something .       â
     SO THEYâRE CROUCHED IN THE DIRT        across the street , hidden in the shadows of the alley .  mickey has a gun on his belt and a pocket knife in his coat ââââ and heâs never really used either in a way that  means shit ,  but that doesnât mean he wonât .  thereâs adrenaline in his ribs that he isnât addressing ; if gallagher thinks so , too , then heâs not addressing it either .  he rolls his eyes ââââ needs to look away from ianâs flash of teeth .   â not gonna fuckinâ sneeze . â   they  are  gonna get busted , he thinks . . . well , probably .  but heâs still ambivalent all the same .  the joint doesnât scare him .  although, maybe being there with  him  might be a bit of a different story .Â
    a part of him is rolling with this for the sheer amusement of it being ianâs plan .  notes and everything .   â nerd , â   he gruffs , then ââââ   â which wayâre we goinâ in ? â
      â WE CAN DO IT YOUR WAY ââââââ          as long as you get that itâs a  stupid  fuckinâ idea , and weâre gonna get busted . â   heâs irritated, but heâs coming along anyway .  jail doesnât bother him ; hell , even crazy ideas donât , but only when theyâre well planned . brainlessness bothers him .  his smile is irritated , too , baleful teeth bared .  there are  better  ways to make a buck .    â  but hey ; what the fuck do I know, right ? â  // @knifedroses ( s.c. )  ( for ian ! ) Â
@tintedrageâ / QUIT YOUR BITCHINâ !
  â  there ainât  NOTHING  here with the answers to our questions.  â      honestly, at this point, going at it guns blazing doesnât sound like such an a w f u l idea. it usually turns out in his favor. mostly.      â  and the one guy who could help us is MIA, so at least give me a spell to track his feathery ass down ! â
      â WHAT EXACTLY DâYOU SUPPOSE         Iâm doinâ here,  playing jacks ? â   heâs not going to be able to keep himself  composed  for much longer ââââ and yelling ,  he thinks ,  real yelling ,  probably wonât work .  heâs no oneâs  FATHER  ( and heâd like to remind himself that he ainât his  own ,  either ).  but then ,  nothing else is getting through ,  either .  thick-skulled  WINCHESTER .  â ainât like calling on  zachariah  is a safe bet ,  either âââââ but maybe if you shut up and cracked a book ,  and I didnât have to worry about you runninâ off every five minutes ,  weâd have something by now . â
pontificalandwarlike / ENJOLRAS !
   Enjolras follows the arc of Combeferreâs hand with his eyes. His gaze flings itself FURTHER OUTWARDS, though, as if he can see the entire expanse of Paris, and even France, stretching out before his eyes. And perhaps he can, at least in imagination ; it is his habit of sorts, after all, to gaze into the distance upon a VISION that no one else could see. Images are conjured easily in his mind, dancing before his eyes with as much reality and substance as the objects his hand can touch around him. He gazes a moment at that distance, at that vision, and then pulls his eyes away with a visible effort to fix his eyes on Combeferre once more.Â
   â But every man should be able to learn, â he declares with conviction. It is in their name after all. Les Amis de lâABC, they called themselves, and they were friends of the ABC as much as they were friends of the abaissĂŠ. Puns such as this are not made IN VAIN. â And yes, not every man is bold. Perhaps not every man can be bold. But that is why ââ that is why we must be bold, mustnât we ? WE MUST BE BOLD for all of them. We must dream bold, and act bold, enough for ourselves as well as those who do not dare be bold for themselves. â
     QUIET AND SELF-CONTAINED IS THE SMILE         that graces him ,  the notion that he should keep it to himself a second thought ,  only .  though anger is dissipating ,  its replacement is no less somber ,  no less  dire  âââââ still ,  combeferre eases .  he is pleased to see the light flickering in those eyes change from raging sparks to a comfortable  flicker ,   candles in dark rooms ,  illuminating .  itâs that light that parts rivers ,  he thinks .  not the rolling  SCORCH  of fury ,  or the bright blaze of righteousness ââââ itâs this single flame ,  steady ,  upright and pure .Â
     he does not want to be caught .  forces the corners of his lips into a firm line ,  and gives a nod .    â of course .  of course we will . â   his doctorâs hand is steady ,  too ,  as it lands upon a thin shoulder .  it does not shake ; does not doubt for a moment ,  for half of one .   â until then ,  we can forgive .  we must .  there is too much to do in the meantime . â   eyes lower ,  then ,  roaming the paperwork that seems to sprawl  endlessly  around them .   â what have you been up to tonight ? âÂ
mndymlkvch / MANDY !Â
          â    just  reminding  you.     like  clockwork,  you  forgot.    â     she  breathed  out  a  tiny  sigh   &   fell  silent  for  all  of  five  seconds,  before  she  glanced  at  him,  then  held  her  hand  out  for  the  package.     â   iâm  trying  to  quit.     ended  up  punching  shelly  madison  -  the  girl  with  the  snaggletooth?     â     she  held  her  hand  up  to  show  him  the  small  gash  left  behind,     â     who  the  fuck  wouldâve  known  her  tooth  wouldâve  seconded  as  a  weapon.    â
     THE REAL KICKER IS THAT        he  did ,   in fact ,  forget .  must have ; heâs got  NO FUCKING CLUE  what sheâs on about .  but an abrasive tongue struggles to twist correctly ,  anyway ââââ refuses to give up and ask .  instead ,  he snorts and tosses the pack over .  heâs only got a few left ,  and barely enough cash in his pocket for another .   â whatever .  you wanna bitch ,  do it quietly .  âââââ . . . yeah ?  probably for the best you keep smokinâ ,  then . â   heâs never had the desire to quit ; always figures heâs got bigger problems .  a dozen things heâs likely to die from before  lung cancer .   â go back and knock that tooth out of her head . â
pontificalandwarlike / ENJOLRAS.Â
     â Ignorance without the intent to LEARN is ! â Enjolras declares, voice trembling with ill-suppressed anger. â It is not only that he did not know, but that he did not care to know. That he did showed no indication of a desire to improve. A PUPIL can be taught : see Pontmercy. But a man like him, who cares not for anything, who dares MOCK the Revolution ââ âÂ
     Enjolras cuts himself off abruptly, the words ceasing as if a river stemmed. A hand rises to press frustration against the side of a marble face, and then falls back to the table, chased by a huff of breath. ( Somewhere, an unwitting observer startles, shocked by marble rendered flesh by a single gesture. ) â Iâm SORRY. It is not against you, my friend. I am⌠frustrated. But you are right ââââ you are always right. I should not have been so harsh. â
     THERE IS REAL ANGER, AND COMBEFERRE    must stop himself from wondering what the true root is.  he keeps an even face, must look neither surprised not snide.  he often fears he comes across too stern  ( much like his friend )  âââ and especially means not to.  perhaps both could benefit from a cup of tea and a ten minute break.
      â I understand what you mean.  but remember to most, how much  EASIER  it is to stay safe in what is known.  which is how we arrived here to begin with. â   he gestures vaguely around the room, meaning the city, the country ââââ the king.  he imagines it must be difficult for enjolras to remember himself as an exception of the rule.  and perhaps that is because, in most ways that  COUNT,  he is not.  but in one way . . . in one set of eyes, at the very least, he is.  and thereby, is held to a different standard.  better or worse, it is too soon to say.   â not every man is learned, and not every man is bold. â
      â YOU KNOW THAT HE MEANS     no harm.  ignorance  isnât  a sin. â  thereâs a breezy tone that makes his voice coast âââââ all cool air, no heat.  enjolras hasnât come to him looking to be  chastised.  for combeferreâs part, he hasnât even really taken note of  who it was  that crossed him . . .  but it does not matter, if he plans to  FORGIVE,  anyway.  instead, he lifts his gaze to his friendâs face, half-smirking.  â we were not always so wise, either, hm ?  where would we be without our teachers ? â   // @pontificalandwarlike
ofmurdering / MORON.Â
     â  i canât just sit here and do   N O T H I N G !    itâs driving me fucking   B A T S H I T !    and maybe you and sam can sit around and read the same damn books over and over again,    but at least my plan involves doing something!  â
      â GETTINâ YOURSELF KILLED AINâT  doing something,  idjit.  you donât have a shot in hell against -âââââ HEAVEN âââââââ so youâre gonna sit your sorry ass here until somebody does.  you got it ? â