put me through the wash (maybe I'll come clean) | Enjolras & Grantaire
Hyacinthe struggles to drag his mesh laundry hamper with him to the elevator and he bangs on the button with one hand. The elevator in this apartment building is iffy at the best and at the worst, seems like a death trap just waiting to drop you into the basement. However, he's on the 12th floor out of 16 floors and he's not about to haul a week and a half of laundry down the stairs to the community laundry room in the dank basement.
Beside, Hyacinthe has never shied away from risk and danger. It's all about calculated risks, really. He lives on the edges of the world and considering he's always had something in his spirit of the revolutionaries of old, he has no problem in living in the margins, burning at the periphery and skirting with illegality. Hyacinthe doesn't need a penal code to live by to make him a good person, he has his heart and his moral center.
In his mind, there is goodness to be found in behaving simply to avoid jail. If a law is unjust- if a person is unjust, then they should be disregarded. If it's a person in a position of power- then they must be brought down and shown that nobody- nobody is above anybody else. Corruption- in all of it's forms, must be fought, it must not be tolerated by the society that breeds it, if it is allowed to grow it will spread it's seeds everywhere. That's why Hyacinthe is willing to live a life of danger- because every victory against corruption gives him heart, reminds him of why he sacrifices his own safety.
Hyacinthe had been an activist in his youth and he still has the spirit of one- he goes to protests here and there and loans his eloquent voice and waves signs and helps to organize. He got fed up with feeling as though his words, his passions were being poured into a hole. Like they were pressed out of him and put into the ether and they got lost and disregarded.
Then he'd thought- in this age, the modern of technology. So much is digital, and people who control and can use technology have a way around the power structure. So Hyacinthe had become a hacker- once he'd learned the skills- it had been easy to do really. A rush, a thrill, a feeling of tingling that only came from feeling like he was finally fighting- finally working. That his passions were finally being used to bring real results.
That had been the birth of Les Amis, and by now plenty of people on the internet know their name, they know their mission. They don't know who they are though, and they each live a sort of double life- a cover to conceal and protect. That's why Hyacinthe in this place, an apartment a few steps up from shitty, and it's why all his neighbors live under the impression that he's a rent boy of some description. An easy ruse to pull off, and one that gets him lots of privacy without many prying questions as to his career.
He sighs his frustration, leans on the button for the elevator. "Honestly- come on you crappy death box." He mutters to himself. At least he doesn't live in one of those famous New York City walk ups, there are small miracles.