MONTPARNASSE

dandy criminal from les miserables. Finding that he was handsome, he desired to be elegant: now, the height of elegance is idleness; idleness in a poor man means crime." independent roleplay blog written by eden. low activity

[ofthesepulchre]

“Montparnasse was a child; less than twenty years of age, with a handsome face, lips like cherries, charming black hair, the brilliant light of springtime in his eyes; he had all vices and aspired to all crimes.“

independent montparnasse from les miserables. mun 25+. semi-active. previously mxntparnasse.

about / rules / faceclaim / aesthetic

[heath-moved-deactivated20230402]

a beautiful bisexual man seductively wiping blood from his nose after running directly into a telephone pole

[ofthesepulchre]

ooc: hello its me im writing my m.a thesis for realsies

[ofthesepulchre]

montparnasse voice: bon the fuck jour

[ofthesepulchre]

i am out of the trenches im in my internship era

[ofthesepulchre]

The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.

Montparnasse jolted awake, chest heaving and sweat soaking his fringe so that the hair plastered itself to his forehead. In the darkness, his eyes struggled to adjust, searching around for a source of light as a reference of his surroundings. His hands reached up to push the hair out of his eyes, grasping to have something to hold onto while he stilled his hurried breathing. The cell was empty, just as it was before. His eyes had finally adjusted to the dark when he gazed around at the lonely grey stone, a single blue-white square on the wall opposite of him assuring him that there truly was a world outside the walls of the La Force.

“Just a few days, just a little vacation. You like that, don’t you?” Claquesous had mocked, laughing behind the mask as he- unlike Montparnasse- had disappeared into the night. The youth had often felt resentment towards the older man, but now it had grown into a dark hatred- imagine leaving one of your own there to be shackled and imprisoned? The betrayal felt sour, though Montparnasse had always had a sense that the masked one had no intention of staying loyal- no matter how much he bet his childish whims on it. He clenched his jaw- imagined himself sinking his knife into what he thought was flesh - though some part of him was still convinced he would stab into pure air instead. It was not the first time he had ended up here.

Montparnasse had spent many a day of his life within these walls, awaiting the release that would eventually come once one of his patrons had heard the news and managed to send a letter- assuring that he was just a wayward youth- he would improve and “oh you mustn’t be so cruel to him!”

A wayward youth- corrupted. After all, was he not just that? Was he not just a lazy idler, a beast of burden in the team of Hell, as the old man once had told him? The speech had lingered for longer than Montparnasse had thought it would, the words burnt into his head that he will enter young and rosy- yet come out broken bent and wrinkled - his vain desires for finery and luxury creating a path he was unlikely to break out of if he did not address the desires for idleness and comfort. “The hardest of all work is thieving.”

What did he know of that, anyway? Besides, Montparnasse’s desire for finery was only the product of yearning for what he had never had, the thrill of doing what was undesirable- an act of rebellion against a world that had cast him as unwanted. After all, he had never known his father, hardly knew his mother. Perhaps that is where it had gone wrong? It was never of his own doing that he had become this way, he had argued to himself- no, it must be the world that was wrong. Or perhaps he was wrong himself- though he found that his own philosophy of idleness had worked far better than anything he had been told by any priest. No, the resentment of the hypocrisy of the church fuelled him more than anything else. He fed into each of the seven heads of the sinful beast that resided within him, rebelling against the rigid systems that had decided for him how and what he should be.

Montparnasse held no conscience that came to gnaw on his roots, saw no fault within himself, rather felt the fiery burning passion of hatred and resentment that had been sown by the seeds of his position grow into vines that twisted and bound themselves to him. All his acts of rebellion were justified, for they were acts upon which he showed himself as Lucifer speaking up against a God that never truly loved him. His eyes cast up at the fine light shining in from the moonlight. His lips had curled into a snarl following his train of thought and his brows had furrowed.

Now he sat there, much like a sour child, gazing hatefully at the light which in his mind represented the higher power that had obviously cast him here.He had fallen. He had fallen yet he welcomed the fall, for it was his own doing- and Montparnasse always had control- he always had the upper hand (so he believed), so they could take their words and their rituals and shove them up where the sun didn’t shine. The shackles placed on his wrists before he was tossed into the cell had reminded him of the imprisonment that was him inside his own mind, trapped in the labyrinths of thoughts and consciousness. He was writhing and fighting against the shackles placed there by the morality and the consequences of his fall into idleness, the morality that held him in place and was there to make him compliant. He had rebelled against it- fought against the shackles and broken free- it was his own doing! All he did was himself, and nothing else - the choices made were for him- and him only. A virus preying upon society.

If they wanted him to be this- had branded him to be this- so be it. He knew that he would be back again - no matter how many times they tossed him in. The sound of footsteps broke him out the rush of resentment that had imprisoned his mind, and Montparnasse averted his gaze to the door. A rustling of keys, keys entering the lock, turning - and the door opened. One of the prison guards with the sour face of a man who’d clearly never known the pleasures of flesh unless it was paid for under the table looked at him for a second.

“They are letting you out. Again.”

A smirk broke out on the youth’s face. The cogs began moving again, churning, turn⁷ing, watching Montparnasse leave the prison with easy steps, sauntering down to the sewers with the moonlight tracing the brim of his hat. Something that Claquesous once had said to him echoed within his mind, lines from something he never had read himself, though the words had burned into his consciousness: “And, when night darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.”

[ofthesepulchre]

me in my "will u still love me even if im low activity" era

[reverdies]

@ofthesepulchre liked for a spooky starter

"You are dull, predictable," Gavroche declared scornfully, having encountered him once again in the cemetery. Nevertheless, the way his voice echoed among the stones gave even him pause and for a brief moment his eyes darted about. Once reassured, the gamin returned to his target. "And I would not think you had the stomach to come here tonight. All the spirits wandering around and none in a flagon."

[ofthesepulchre]

"You think you know much of me, little one, and yet you know little at all." Montparnasse quipped, still kneeling by the stone he had settled on earlier that night. His hair was tousled, dark locks hanging in his eyes, still wet from the rain that had cursed Paris earlier. Why was Gavroche even here, now? The dandy glanced over his shoulder at the child he called a friend- a brother in some circumstances. "- I'm paying my visits to those spirits, saying my hellos.."

[hiraethpariah]

“Champagne?” @ofthesepulchre

Masquerade Starters | Accepting

╰❂╮He had heard the word spoken countless times so far that evening, the drink being served to whomever might enjoy one off of shiny platters being expertly balanced on one hand by the wait staff. This time, however, the glass had already been removed from a tray and was being offered to Zee directly. The beast took half a moment to realize that the stranger wasn't part of staff, and instead another guest.

❝Oh, thank you,❞ his deep, but softly spoken, growl of a voice replied with a brief little closed mouth smile up at the taller man as he accepted the offered flute of bubbly. While such affairs gave him the chance to be amongst the humans, it still rattled his nerves to some degree to speak with one, particularly because he knew that despite his perfect pronunciation of any language, the words would be just slightly off. He had to think a moment for something more to say. ❝The music is being enjoyable, and also the costumes are being very neat.❞

[ofthesepulchre]

Getting in to one of these events was one thing, another was to blend in- become invisible. Montparnasse had many a dream of such an event, dressed up gentlemen and ladies in their fanciful costumes dreaming themselves away to some fantasy land that money could buy them. Good thing the drink made them too sluggish to notice quick hands and nimble fingers picking from their pockets little treasures for safekeeping.

He watched the stranger of his choosing with half an eye, nodding once they'd taken the glass. It was all about acting natural, something he assumed his new acquaintance was more than accustomed to with their odd disposition. A smile crossed cherry lips, lifting the glass for a sip and nodding in agreement. A foreigner, perhaps? His eyes twinkled, scanning the room.

"I do love a good costume.. I had mine done especially for me, you know. Very exclusive. How about you, my friend? That is quite the.. ensemble." He chuckled, turning to the stranger.

[ofthesepulchre]

christmas break is so close now..

[ofthesepulchre]

thinking about montparnasse being exposed to claquesous reading paradise lost to him forcefully and parnasse all "now wait just a minute here" and relating to lucifer like any good edgelord

[ofthesepulchre]

blows kisses on the dash for everyone MWAAA lmk if you want my discord btw :3c!

[ofthesepulchre]

working on a term paper, will try drafts!

[breadvidence]

On the topic of Les Mis characters on Grindr, you know Montparnasse pulls the “I wanna meet but I need gas money to get there” trick. Jean Valjean obligingly asks for his CashApp because he is generous, but follows it up with, “My friend, there’s no shame in honest labor, but you are going down a road that ends badly. You must not use photoshopped dick pics.”

[ofthesepulchre]

blows kisses on the dash for everyone MWAAA lmk if you want my discord btw :3c!

[ofthesepulchre]

⭐️ - Put this star in the inbox of your favorite blogs. It’s time to spread positivity!

BWOOOOOOO thank u <:3

[ofthesepulchre]

i promise im alive ive just been drowned by exams and classes </3

[faememes]

Send "You look so much like your Mother/Father/Parent." For my muse to react to your muse saying that to them.