to undertake paris

–––––BABET ––––– PATRON MINETTE ––––––––––––––––––––––––– He was transparent but impenetrable. Daylight was visible through his bones, but nothing through his eyes. He had been a jack of all trades. He was a man of purpose, a fine talker, who underlined his smiles and accentuated his gestures. Later on he had abandoned everything, in order to “undertake Paris.” This was his expression.

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

“I… sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

@notyourapollo

Babet, having been roused from his sleep by the sudden noise at the door, relaxed his grip on the gun in his hand and placed the weapon back in its drawer by his bedside.  As the panic subsided, the criminal collapsed back onto the bed, turning over and pulling the sheets back over his bare torso.  “Consider yourself lucky you’re not dead,” he said, or rather mumbled as he attempted to find sleep once again.  However as his own form stilled, another began to writhe.  A quiet voice began to inquire before it was suddenly hushed by the older man.  “Close the door behind you,” the criminal said, keeping his back turned to the door.  

[amourmemes]

❥     𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒   .

another meme inspired by devotedecay’s format !     tw  for  violence, blood, mature themes. send  in  one  of  these  for  my  muse’s  reaction  to  … (  add  ❝  reverse  ❞   if  you’d  like  to  see  how  my  muse  would  preform  the  action  !  )

[ deck ]   your muse decking mine in the face.

[ punch ]   your muse punching mine anywhere / or specify.

[ pin ]   your muse forcibly pinning my muse beneath them.

[ straddle ]   your muse forcing mine to the ground and straddling them.

[ scratch ]   your muse raking mine with their nails / claws.

[ bite ]   your muse biting mine.

[ turn ]   your muse rolling from beneath to atop my muse.

[ wall ]   your muse pinning mine against a wall.

[ snarl ]   your muse snarling / growling at mine.

[ curse ]   your muse cursing at / cursing mine out.

[ tug ]   your muse gripping mine’s hair.

[ kick ]   your muse kicking mine anywhere / or specify.

[ point + gun ]   your muse holding mine at gun point.

[ point + knife ]   your muse holding mine at knife point.

[ mock ]   your muse mocking mine.

[ sweep ]   your muse knocking mine off their feet.

[ grab ]   your muse grabbing mine forcibly.

[ shoot ]   your muse shooting my muse anywhere / or specify.

[ stab ]   your muse stabbing my muse anywhere / or specify.

[ break ]   your muse breaking any of mine’s bones / or specify.

[ strangle ]   your muse choking mine out.

[ shove ]   your muse shoving mine forcibly.

[ bruise ]   your muse making mine bruise.

[ under ]   your muse shoving mine underwater.

[ attempt ]   your muse attempting to kill mine.

[ bare ]   your muse baring their teeth at mine.

[ threaten ]   your muse threatening mine.

[ spit ]   your muse making mine spit blood.

[ bleed ]   your muse making mine bleed.

[ burn ]   your muse burning mine.

[ corner ]   your muse cornering mine.

[ throat ]   your muse wrapping a hand around mine’s throat.

[ challenge ]   your muse challenging mine.

[ cut ]   your muse cutting mine.

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

“It’s a problem, I get it.” [ doubleprogress ]

@doubleprogress

“This isn’t a problem,” the man said, though speech would be a generous term for the slurred utterances escaping his mouth.  Perhaps, in a certain light, intoxication could be a result of celebration.  However, it was quite clear that by the drunk man’s current state that this was not the case.  In fact, it was almost a miracle, or a curse by Babet’s standards, that the girl had happened upon him and had been able to discern him from the other drunks and vagrants scattered along the streets.  The uncharacteristic scruff at his cheeks and neck and the mismatched set of clothes was apparently not enough to alter his appearance past the point of recognition.  “Why–  Why d’you think that this is some type of problem, hm?  And what are you going to do about it?  Going to tattle on me to the rest of the boys, are you, girl?”  

[infernalmemes]

❧    𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇: 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏, 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐎? 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

FEEL FREE TO CHANGE PRONOUNS, WORDING, ETC. TO SUIT YOUR NEEDS

BAD GUY

❛ think you’re so criminal. ❜

❛ my soul? So cynical. ❜

❛ so you’re a tough guy. ❜

❛ I’m the bad guy. duh. ❜

❛ I like it when you take control. ❜

❛ I’ll be your animal. ❜

❛ my mommy likes to sing along with me. ❜

❛ she’ll pity the men I know. ❜

❛ I’m only good at bein’ bad. ❜

❛ I like when you get mad. ❜

❛ I guess I’m pretty glad that you’re alone. ❜

❛ you said she’s scared of me? ❜

XANNY

❛ what is it about them? ❜

❛ I must be missing something. ❜

❛ I don’t need a xanny to feel better. ❜

❛ they’re late to every party. ❜

❛ nobody’s ever sorry. ❜

❛ please don’t try to kiss me on the sidewalk. ❜

❛ I can’t afford to love someone. ❜

YOU SHOULD SEE ME IN A CROWN

❛ wait till the world is mine. ❜

❛ you should see me in a crown. ❜

❛ I’m gonna run this nothing town. ❜

❛ watch me make ‘em bow. ❜

❛ your silence is my favorite sound. ❜

❛ I like the way they all scream. ❜

❛ come over baby. ❜

❛ I think you’re pretty. ❜

❛ I’m okay. ❜

❛ I’m not your baby. ❜

ALL GOOD GIRLS GO TO HELL

❛ can’t commit to anything but a crime. ❜

❛ got friends but can’t invite them. ❜

❛ my turn to ignore ya. ❜

❛ don’t say I didn’t warn ya. ❜

❛ all the good girls go to hell. ❜

❛ ‘cause even God herself has enemies. ❜

❛ she’ll want the devil on her team. ❜

❛ look at you needing me. ❜

❛ peter should know better. ❜

❛ your cover up is caving in. ❜

❛ why are we saving him? ❜

❛ begging for our help, wow! ❜

❛ There’s nothing left to save now. ❜

WISH YOU WERE GAY

❛ baby, I don’t feel so good. ❜

❛ I’ll never let you go. ❜

❛ four days has never felt so long. ❜

❛ I just wanna make you feel okay. ❜

❛ but all you do is look the other way. ❜

❛ I can’t tell you how much I wish I didn’t wanna stay. ❜

❛ I just kinda wish you were gay. ❜

❛ Is there a reason we’re not through? ❜

❛ how am I supposed to make you feel okay? ❜

❛ don’t say I’m not your type. ❜

❛ I’m so selfish. ❜

WHEN THE PARTY’S OVER

❛ don’t you know I’m no good for you? ❜

❛ but nothing ever stops you leaving. ❜

❛ I could lie, say I like it like that. ❜

❛ don’t you know too much already? ❜

❛ I’ll only hurt you if you let me. ❜

❛ call me friend, but keep me closer. ❜

❛ I’ll call you when the party’s over. ❜

❛ let’s just let it go. ❜

❛ let me let you go. ❜

8

❛ wait a minute, let me finish. ❜

❛ I know you don’t care, but can you listen? ❜

❛ I never really know how to please you. ❜

❛ I guess I’m gonna go. ❜

❛ I just never know how you feel. ❜

❛ do you even feel anything? ❜

❛ don’t treat me badly. ❜

❛ I know you’re not sorry. ❜

MY STRANGE ADDICTION

❛ don’t ask questions, you don’t wanna know. ❜

❛ learned my lesson way too long ago. ❜

❛ one of us is gonna lose. ❜

❛ you are my strange addiction. ❜

❛ put your lips on my skin and you might ignite it. ❜

❛ can’t you tell I’m wired? ❜

❛ tell me nothing lasts, like I don’t know. ❜

BURY A FRIEND

❛ what do you want from me? ❜

❛ why don’t you run from me? ❜

❛ what are you wondering? ❜

❛ what do you know? ❜

❛ why aren’t you scared of me? ❜

❛ why do you care for me? ❜

❛ when we all fall asleep, where do we go? ❜

❛ say it, spit it out. ❜

❛ what is it exactly? ❜

❛ am I satisfactory? ❜

❛ I wanna end me. ❜

❛ I’ll meet you in the park. ❜

❛ it’s probably somethin’ that shouldn’t be said out loud. ❜

❛ honestly, I thought that I would be dead by now. ❜

❛ the debt I owe, gotta sell my soul. ❜

ILOMILO

❛ told you not to worry. ❜

❛ honey, what’s your hurry? ❜

❛ remember not to get too close to stars. ❜

❛ where did you go? ❜

❛ I can’t lose another life. ❜

❛ hurry, I’m worried. ❜

❛ I tried not to upset you. ❜

❛ I just wanted to protect you. ❜

❛ I don’t care if it’s a lie. ❜

LISTEN BEFORE I GO

❛ take me to the rooftop. ❜

❛ I wanna see the world when I stop breathing. ❜

❛ better hurry 'cause I’m leavin’ soon. ❜

❛ sorry can’t save me now. ❜

❛ sorry I don’t know how. ❜

❛ I’m not okay, I feel so scattered. ❜

❛ don’t say I’m all that matters. ❜

❛ call my friends and tell them that I love them. ❜

❛ but I’m not sorry. ❜

I LOVE YOU

❛ it’s not true, tell me I’ve been lied to. ❜

❛ what the hell did I do? ❜

❛ nothing has to change today.   ❜

❛ you didn’t mean to say I love you. ❜

❛ I wish we never learned to fly. ❜

❛ didn’t mean to make you cry. ❜

❛ I can’t escape the way I love you. ❜

[memesfromstuff]

*: ･ﾟ✧   interrogation starters.

feel free to change pronouns etc as needed.

CALM / QUESTIONING.

“ tell me, what happened?”

“ did you see anything?”

“ what do you remember?”

“ do you remember anything unusual?”

“ please, try to remember as much as you can.”

“ every detail is important.”

“ and what happened next?”

“ and what did you do when all this took place?”

“ what were you doing around __ am/pm?”

“ where were you around __ am/pm?”

“ can anyone verify that?”

“ was someone with you?”

“ and you had nothing to do with it?”

“ and you weren’t involved?”

“ did you see it happen?”

“ did you see who did it?”

“ did you see or hear anything? anything at all?”

CARING / UNDERSTANDING.

 “ you seem scared… is that why you don’t want to talk?”

“ did someone hurt you?”

“ it’s okay. you can tell me.”

“ you were just trying to defend yourself, weren’t you?”

“ we can take a break, if you want.”

“ everything will be okay, i promise. but you need to talk to me.”

“ it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. but it really would help if you did.”

SUSPICIOUS.

“ there is something you’re not telling me.”

“ i think you’re lying.”

“ you looked away just now when you said that. are you sure you’re telling the truth?”

“ except what you’re telling me doesn’t align with what we already know.”

“ seems to me like you know more than you’re letting in on.”

“ what aren’t you telling me?”

“ who are you trying to protect?”

“ so you really don’t know what any of it means? no clue at all?”

“ they must’ve told you more than that.”

“ you have to have seen more than that.”

“ and you want me to believe you don’t remember?”

“ and you want me to believe you had nothing to do with it?”

“ an accident? is that what you’re going with?”

DEMANDING.

“ i need you to tell me the truth.”

“ i need you to tell me what happened.”

“ i know you’re not telling me the truth.”

“ that doesn’t line up with the evidence. so… you wanna try that again?”

“ stop lying. i already know that’s not what happened.”

MAKING A DEAL / ASKING FOR HELP / DEMANDING HELP.

“ what do you want in exchange for this information?”

“ i’m listening…”

“ you’re coming with me.”

“ since you’re the only one who knows how to find them, i don’t really have a choice but to take you with me.”

“ fine. i’ll take you with me, but if you try anything…”

“ i can’t give you that. you know that.”

“ if we’re going to make a deal, you’re gonna have to ask for something a little more rational than that.”

“ okay. we have a deal.”

“ sorry. no deal.”

[sendameme]

Deep Ass Starters.

[paradisecost]

Sometimes it’s hard to get in depth with your muse and their backstory, because you can’t figure out how to bring those things up with others. Here are a couple of starters intended to make things a little more personal!

“What’s holding you back?”

“I’m not comfortable with this conversation.”

“Will you /ever/ be comfortable with this conversation?”

“Let me in sometime!”

“It’s not that easy, you know.”

“Help me understand.”

“It’s hard to connect with someone when all they do is push you away.”

“Why are you always so cold?”

“Why are you always so happy?”

“Are you really happy now?”

“Who hurt you this badly to make you this way?!”

“What, did your ex mess you up that badly?!”

“Why do you keep fighting it any time you feel?”

“It’s a problem, I get it.”

“This is all kinds of messed up.”

“That’s not exactly a good coping method.”

“So what happened, with your parents, really?”

“What was your childhood like?”

“Everyone has at lest a little bit of mommy/daddy issues. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“My parents aren’t exactly perfect models, either.”

“You were bullied? What for?”

“Was it hard? Coming out, I mean.”

“You can’t just run away all the time.”

“You can’t just hide all the time.”

“Are you still thinking about them?”

“I’m not the enemy here. But this makes me wonder who the real one is for you.”

“Is the reason you’re so cold and defensive because you feel threatened?”

“How long has it been since you last spoke to them?”

“You never talk about it, why?”

“How come you’re so different around them?”

“It’s like you don’t have a care or worry in the world.”

“You seem so perfect. I don’t get it.”

“What was your ex like?”

“I don’t think I was ever good enough for them.”

“Are you not comfortable being intimate?”

“Why don’t you feel comfortable being intimate?”

“Letting someone see you that vulnerable, it’s a scary thing.”

“Are you scared of being hurt?”

“Have you ever been taken advantage of?”

“Why are you afraid of saying I love you?”

“I never understood how someone could say those words so easily.”

“You’re hurting others the way you’ve been hurt in the past, don’t you think that’s ironic?”

“You use people to make yourself feel better.”

“I’m scared of being used again…”

“Losing someone isn’t easy, but you’re making it harder than it needs to be.”

“How long has it been since you lost them?”

“You’re too attached.”

“I’m not attached, I’m just comfortable with what I’m familiar to.”

“Maybe the real reason you’re so controlling is because, deep down you’d rather have them in your grasp than lose them.”

“Why did you ever break up?” / “Why did we ever break up?”

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

montparnasse-at-your-service:

“They might be more keen to help me, but let’s go with your contact first. I’ll keep watch and if you need any help you can let me know,” Montparnasse suggested, he was glad his other comment had managed to slip by without deeper interrogation. He knew everyone who worked at the brothel, some of the older women had watched him grow up. Sometimes when he had gotten particularly battered by his father they would take care of him. There was a girl there, who his father had paid for him to sleep with him when he was about fourteen thinking that was his first time. Except his first time was something much worse, all of the memories were flooding him, he shook his head some of them it would be nice to see again and that’s what he tried to focus in on that and the task at hand.

Shock would perhaps be a more fitting word than confusion to describe Babet’s current state of mind.  How long had Montparnasse been keeping this secret or whatever it was?  Or had Babet simply been oblivious?  It was not entirely unreasonable to assume the latter.  The older man rubbed at his temples with his middle finger and thumb, before wiping his brow with a swipe of his fingers.  The brief motion over his face was enough to mask the brief flicker of confusion in his eyes before he was able to regain his composure.

“Well, if they are keen to help... then by all means, you should lead, should you not?” Babet offered. Perhaps this way, he could get the answers he lacked.

[multiiitudes-a-deactivated20190]

Continued from x 

 Hope looked up at the man now and raised an eyebrow. He was confusing to say the least, but at least he wasn’t. “I only thought that you did because you were staring at this grave in front of us” she said softly. She didn’t know the man well and certainly didn’t trust him. But Hope never trusted anyone after her parent’s death and Babet was no exception. “I’m sorry Monsieur, I didn’t mean to imply anything." 

 She was at a loss for words right now and simply looked down at her boots. "I don’t know why you’re standing here in the first place, but did you have a connection with this child?” she asked curiously.

@transparentbutimpenetrable

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

Can a man not mourn without distractions? Despite this, Babet found it far easier to speak to this young woman than it was for him to look down at the small gravestone.  Perhaps a distraction was necessary.  

“Forgive me for seeming cross.  I’m–”  I’m rather beside myself. Babet shook his head slightly, as if to rid himself of the thought.  Instead, he offered her what could best resemble a smile, despite the overall solemnity of his features.  “I didn’t expect the company, that’s all.”

The dentist juggled a multitude of lies, aliases that he could use, stories he could tell to justify his presence at this grave.  The truth happened to be the easiest and yet the hardest story for him to tell.  Babet took a breath as he prepared to answer the young woman, though his lies caught in his throat before he could proceed.  It seemed lying as he stood beside his daughter’s grave was not an easy task, nor a forgivable act in his eyes.

“She’s my daughter.”  The words left his mouth and for a moment he was poised to say more.   But what more could he say?  He exhaled the abandoned words through a sigh, letting his last few words settle between them. 

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

houndofthedevil:

Montparnasse glared at his bloodied hands, how they had already begun to tremble again. The only time they were steady was when he was hurting someone, it seemed. He clenched them into fists, digging his nails into his palms, and let them drop limp back at his sides. He did not look up when he heard Babet speak.

“I’m not going soft if that’s what you’re worried about,” He replied quietly. He had been ready to shred that man. It was something he had done before. He was no stranger to killing, either. But the fear of his companions seeing him as weak remained. As the youngest and most inexperienced of all of the heads, he constantly felt the need to prove himself and that he belonged. “I only stopped because you told me.”

A sniff and he brushed his arm across his face, leaving a smear of red from previous smaller injuries he had inflicted. The more the rage left him the more other emotions taunted him. “I can do it. I just lost my temper for a second.”

Montparnasse going soft was perhaps the opposite of what Babet had observed in that room.  He saw how calculated, how focused, how enraptured Montparnasse had been by the rush of his work, until this focus became pure distraction, to the point that the goal had transformed from getting answers to torture for the sake of torture.  While Babet himself could be called a hypocrite for thinking so, there was a time and a place for this type of cruelty, and this was not that time.  

“I have no doubt that you are capable of finishing the job, but...” Babet took a step towards the other as if to test the boundaries between the two of them.  He was going to say that perhaps they should take a walk, anything to get away from the room for a while.  However, he could see that such a suggestion would not be received well.  “Perhaps, this time, we keep his tongue in tact, oui?”  The criminal slowly reached down to retrieve the knife resting on the ground, offering the handle to the younger man.  

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

montparnasse-at-your-service:

Montparnasse followed the directions, with a disapproving little click of his tongue. It felt a lot like he was always being told to wait. That he would be told when his skills were needed as opposed to him running a job. He wanted to be in charge and he wished Claquesous thought he was ready.

The area began to seem more familiar then the other man gave him the name of the place. He tensed, he knew the place but not for the reason Babet did. His father used to leave him downstairs and then he had ended up working there a short stint.

“Never as a customer,” Montparnasse commented keeping his eyes on the road not wanting to give away more than he had to. “I know the way from here.” He rolled down his window and pulled out another cigarette lighting it trying to calm his nerves.

All plans that Babet had been formulating in his head about how they should approach this acquisition job were put on pause as his brain then attempted to process what Montparnasse had just said.   The implications of his statement could suggest many things, though one stood out in particular.  However, prying now would only distract the both of them, so, despite his intrigue, Babet held his tongue.  

The dentist stowed his revolver away, and removed his phone from his pocket, beginning to text his contact at the Crimson Lily.  He asked if she was in today and if she would be available to talk.  She was rather quick in her response, answering with only the word “and?” to which Babet responded with a promise of payment, as per usual.  

“I know a woman there who might be able to help us,” the criminal said, attempting to swerve the conversation slightly from whatever connection Montparnasse may have had to the place.  This woman was only one of the many individuals who worked at the brothel, though she was one Babet knew on a rather personal and intimate level.  “I’ll see if I can find her, when we get there.  You can come in if you would like, or you can keep watch.  Your choice.” 

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

“That would be… because I was. Having a nightmare, that is.” Montparnasse looked at the other man sheepishly. He hadn't known he had woken anyone up and now he was embarrassed.

@montparnasse-at-your-service

Feigning ignorance was merely a mechanism Babet used to prompt the truth, and it seemed to prove effective in this case.  At first, the older man had thought that someone was making an attempt on the other’s life in his sleep, though when he barged through the door, gun aimed at the bed, he found that there was no one else there.  This intrusion was enough to wake the younger man, and part of Babet felt almost bad for having disturbed him.  The other part of him was still attempting to come down from the sudden rush of adrenaline in his blood while still keeping a cool and composed demeanor.   “Well then.  That’s–” the criminal said, using a gesture to hide the motion of his other hand sliding his gun behind his back, slipping it into his waistband, “That’s normal.  If you would like to join me, I’m going to fix myself something to drink.  No point in going back to sleep.” 

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

“If that doesn’t work, you can try pacing and muttering to yourself. Or feverishly writing letters you’ll never send.” - Sophia

@aspecialprovidence

Despite the amount of questionable things Babet had ever done in his life, there were few that actually served to sow seeds of guilt in him.  Sometimes these seeds took a few days or weeks or months before they actually began to show their face, but when they did, they were certainly not welcome.  The most recent sprout of guilt came from the death– rather, murder– of a good friend.  A good friend who was foolish enough to admit that he intended to inform his wife of a recent and accidental murder involving himself, Babet, and a bar patron that they didn’t even know the name of.  Needless to say, of the three men mentioned, Babet was the only one left alive.  

It had been a week since the incident.  He had been fine.  Had been.  Until he had heard about the funeral.  About his friend’s wife, about their child, both of whom Babet was very familiar with.  The simple thought that he would never be able to apologize to either of them for what he had done was what had pushed him over the edge.  

And so the bottle of gin in his hands is the temporary remedy, though it does nothing to stop the waves of guilt from crashing to the front of his mind.  “Letters, huh?” the criminal scoffed.  “I am trying to get it out of my head, not make it material.  I think I’ll stick to the drink, thank you.”  He took another sharp swig, grimacing slightly before placing the bottle on the table.   Though his words are not indicative of the state of his intoxication, the loll of his head and his loose gestures certainly are.  “You ever actually follow the advice you give or is it all just hypothetical remedies that you come with?”

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

montparnasse-at-your-service

“No, guns blazing absolutely not, but you know that stealing unnoticed is my specialty,” Montparnasse gripped the wheel a little tightly as he went to start the car, he felt a little agitated. He wished that he could call the shots in totality just once, but knew he needed to defer to Babet.

“And of course, we’ll sell every last bit of it. I know that’s what Sous wanted,” he pulled out of the neighborhood and onto a backroad, “So tell where I’m going.”

Specialty or not, Babet was not about to allow Montparnasse to attempt this acquisition on his own.  Besides, while each of their individual skills were notable, their greatest strength was when the four of them, like a type of hydra, struck together.  However, in all honesty, had Montparnasse not been with him, the dentist may have well attempted this job alone.  It was not a coincidence that most of his accidents happened whilst he was working on his own.  It seemed company was the greatest source of reason for the older man. 

“I know,” Babet said, fingers continuing to fuss with the cylinder on his revolver.  “Don’t think your skills won’t go unused, Montparnasse.”  As they drove, Babet continued to give Montparnasse directions, guiding him towards the storehouse that operated out of a local brothel, a place Babet himself had visited at least a few times.  “Place is called The Crimson Lily.  You ever been?”  Of course, he wouldn’t mention that he hadn’t gotten the name of the place from his victim and had simply known the address from his previous visits.  

[ohnoudonta]

the arcana starters

JULIAN ROUTE - CHAPTER VII

“I… sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” “That would be… because I was. Having a nightmare, that is.” “Have you tried lying in bed consumed with guilt for every mistake you’ve ever made?” “If that doesn’t work, you can try pacing and muttering to yourself. Or feverishly writing letters you’ll never send.” “I wish we had more time. But I’m just being selfish, aren’t I?” “Do you believe in forgiveness?” “Do you think… that even truly heinous things can be forgiven?” “You don’t even know what I’ve done.” “Would you forgive me even if I hurt you deeply? Irrevocably?” “What if I hurt people you cared about? Would you still forgive me then?” “What if I took everything from you, and then took more when it wasn’t enough? Could you still forgive me then?” “Say, did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally kidnapped a pregnant war elephant?” “Oh no. Nothing good ever comes from that phrase.” “It’s not magic. No one chanted nonsense from a fancy but ominous tome. There were no glowing circles and weird runes.” “No one bled.” “Does magic bother you?” “You weren’t hurt, were you? Everything still where it should be?” “I heard you talking in your sleep. And you’re still shaking.” “What, shaking? Nonsense, I’m a doctor. My hands are as sure as death and taxes.” “It wasn’t real, I have no reason to be upset.” “If I can’t make it right… then I’ll take whatever punishment I deserve. Without question.” “You deserve to have someone like that too. Someone who can be there for you. Someone I can’t be.” “There are some things no one can forgive. That’s the painful truth.” “I may not have contributed to the world of medicine, but I was making waves in the world of fashion.” “I might just melt if I spend anymore time with you.” “Give me something to remember you by.” “Wait up in my room? On my birthday?” “If I can’t disgust anyone doing it, what is the point?” “That’s fantastic, it sounds just like him.” “Hello, my poor, poor patient.” “I’ve come to end your suffering.” “Enjoy that gasp, it will be your last.” “What are you going to do? Smother me with your thighs?” “This might surprise you, but some of us don’t kill for the money.” “A nice night for sailing, don’t you think?” “There’s only one way I can see this whole thing playing out. And it’s not a happy ending, trust me.” “I would never have just left you, though. Even if I wanted to.” “I don’t. Want to leave, that is.” “A perfect monument to my failures.” “Every death, every body burnt in those pits, it another mark against me. And there are so many marks…” “I’m only going to end up hurting you somehow. I know it.” “You shouldn’t be so cavalier with your own safety.” “I’m not a good man, __. The things I’ve done…” “I did something unforgivable. I must have. Where else does this pit in my stomach come from?” “I won’t have you come down this path with me. You deserve better than that.” “That’s a strange question to ask when I’m breaking up with you, isn’t it?” “I want you to be safe. I want you to stay out of this whole mess. I want…” “It doesn’t matter what I want.” “You’re like this great bright light, drawing me towards you.” “My brain tells me to leave, but my heart keeps pulling me back.” “There’s no future for us that doesn’t end in pain for you.” “I don’t dare hope. It just makes it hurt more when you don’t get it.” “Oh, I can see it when I close my eye(s). Warm laughter, light hearts. Never a dull night.” “He decided what was best for you and wouldn’t listen even when you told him he was wrong, right?” “The only thing he loves more than drama is his own suffering. And he’s determined to chase both.” “If anything happened to them because of my mess…” “I will absolutely hurt you.” “I know I have that darkness inside me.” “He fills the room with excitement. Makes you feel special. And then he finds some way to sabotage it.” “Doesn’t he deserve to be happy?” “You can make your own bad decisions.” “Being with you is the first thing I’ve wanted for myself in a long time.”

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

@houndofthedevil continued from x

Torture was inefficient to begin with for getting information. He knew that. It did not mean he did not try sometimes, and as he stood over a bound and whimpering man not much older than himself, knife shoved deep into his mouth with only a small rip needed, he seethed as Babet’s words sunk in. Bared his teeth at the teary-eyed wreck of a human beneath him, eyebrow twitching in barely contained rage, and removed the knife from his mouth. He jerked his head for Babet to join him outside the cramped room and walked out.

As soon as he was outside the knife rolled from a hand that lost the will to wield it, clattering to the floor. The steady confidence that he rode like a high inside that room left him all at once and his back thumped against the wall to support what felt like a nigh unbearable weight settling back into his bones. “Why am I losing control?” The question was more at himself, not even paying attention really to if the older criminal had yet joined him.

The older man watched as his younger associate made the choice to stay his hand.  As a frequent practitioner in the art of torture, Babet was familiar with the desperation of wanting answers and being denied, resulting in further mutilation and pain as recompense for this denial.  Had Montparnasse not been so occupied, he may have noticed the faint smile that sat on Babet’s face throughout, though whether or not it was a result of pride or sick satisfaction was unknown.  

Babet lingered in the room only for a moment longer than Montparnasse, taking this moment to approach the victim who seemed all too relieved to be spared, if but temporarily.  In a moment of mock affection, he stroked the the other’s tear streaked face with the back of his hand.  “Consider this the only mercy you will be provided by my hand.”  With that said, Babet gave the man a pat on the face and joined his younger counterpart beyond the door.  

“You look unwell.” Perhaps that was not the best, first thing to say to the younger man.  Babet glanced from the knife on the floor back up to the other’s eyes.  “Care to take a break?”

[valetudincrian]

@transparentbutimpenetrable

It was a habit for her to wander off from the Gobeau shanty in the evenings, sometimes she wouldn’t return. There were nights that she preferred sleeping in ditches to her parents but she hadn’t yet decided what she’d do that evening. Once she was feeling tired she would make up her mind but for the time being, she just knew she preferred the streets to the roof. 

She walked with no direction, emaciated form stepping without a sound through the shadows hanging down from the tall buildings she walked between. It wasn’t until she turned a corner, the moonlight illuminating her features, that she began to quietly sing in that raspy voice of hers an old prison song she had heard once. Half of the words forgotten, most of it was gibberish. She might have looked mad to anyone that didn’t know her – Perhaps even to those that did. It wasn’t a particularly common sight to see a young woman singing such a melancholy song with a skip in her step. It was common, however; to see a woman dressed in dirtied rags with knotted hair, thin enough anyone could deduce she didn’t eat often with the wearied look of someone thrice her age. 

Falling back into the shadows, she stopped her singing when her gaze fell upon a familiar form. She wasn’t certain because it was dark, and so she approached tentatively, head tipped to the side with brown locks draping over her sharp shoulders. Once near enough to be sure, she smiled. “Monsieur Babet!” She exclaimed, though maintaining the softest tone she could manage with her rough voice. “I didn’t think you would be here. That’s obvious perhaps, I had no reason to think so. What are you doing? You seem idle.”

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

Babet looked the girl over from head to toe with a curious look on his face, as he both attempted to make out who exactly this person was and what they knew of him.  It took the dentist a few moments to recognize the young Thénardier girl, but when he did, a smile wormed its way through his stoic façade.  This wasn’t exactly the company he expected, but it certainly put his mind at ease that this stranger was more friend than foe.  “Out late tonight, are we?”  

He knew he could say the same for himself.  After all, stalking and preparing oneself for a potential burglary was not something he could so easily accomplish in the daylight.  “Simply admiring the view,” Babet said plainly before lifting his chin to gesture to a window across the street.  Beyond this window, the last, flickering flames of the candlelight from within were enough to illuminate and cause the vanity mirror and jewelry boxes, so carelessly left in plain view, to glimmer and shine.

“Oh, I would hate to seem idle.  Idleness is a cause for many a vice,” he chided, though a chuckle was sign enough of his jocular intent.  “And you know well that I am hardly one consumed by vices.”  This playfulness, of course, only came with the comfort of familiarity.  

However, one thought crept into his mind as it would for anyone of his profession. Would her company jeopardize the job at hand?  Perhaps not.  Rather, it was the patriarch of her family that would have been the greatest threat to Babet’s endeavors.  Babet turned his head to look the street over, narrowing his eyes as he attempted to make out any lurking figures in the dark. “Does your father know you’re here?”  

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

009. — Scratch

009. — Scratch my muse. @vivelafrance--vivelavenir

On nights like these, where the skies were clear and the moon was merely a sliver, criminals of every type emerged from between the cracks of the cobbled streets, eager to prowl the streets for easy prey.   Such was the case for the dentist and his Herculean counterpart.  Though most of the city seemed to sleep at this hour, the criminals had taken notice of a small group of men around the Musain who had made a habit of remaining at the café until these very hours.  So with empty pockets and unbloodied maws, the two men stalked through the dark, waiting for when that small group of young men would emerge from the Musain.  

Two cigarettes in, with Babet lighting a third, the first lamb showed its face, followed a second, a third, and then the rest of the herd.  And then there was the straggler, only a few paces behind the rest, but a few paces was all the two men needed to grab the young man by the back of his shirt, pulling him abruptly into the nearest alleyway.  The brief struggle ended with Gueulemer’s arm across the man’s chest, pinning him to the wall, and Babet clutching at the left side of his face.  The stinging sensation upon contact told him that the young man’s attack had certainly broken skin and drawn blood.   A low snarl emanated from his throat as he made his approach towards the restrained individual.  “This could have been easy for you, but alas, you have decided to pursue a more difficult route.  Now,”  Babet said as he removed the dagger from its place beneath his coat, “I needn’t remind you to keep quiet, lest my hand should slip.”  

[yourleastfavouritefriend]

It had been a fairly quiet night for the boys, spending some time as the Musain, discussing their latest rally and preparing for the next, and - of course - celebrating with a drink or two. It had gotten late quickly and as the group started to leave, Jehan had dashed back in to collect a scarf he had forgotten, falling just a little behind the group.

He was about to call out for Bahorel to wait when he felt a tug on the back of his shirt and he was pulled into a nearby alley. Though he was overpowered quickly, as Jehan found himself cornered by two men he attempted to fight his way to freedom, kicking and wriggling and eventually feeling his fingernails rake against skin before he was shoved back into the wall. He couldn’t yell as he tried to catch his breath and he found himself pinned easily in place, looking up at his attacker with a surprisingly fierce expression given his soft appearance.

He squirmed still and struggled against the strong arm holding him in place and looked up at the other man, the one who it appeared he had managed to do some damage to. As he saw the knife he stilled for a moment, just taking trembling breaths and looking up at him, “What do you want? I don’t have any money with me.” He spoke without quieting his voice, feeling adrenaline coursing through him, making him brave as well as stupid.

[transparentbutimpenetrable]

Of course, the lack of money would prove to be an issue.  However, with enough creativity, if one can call it that, there were always other ways to turn a profit.  “Well, no money.  That is troubling to hear, but I suppose we’ll make something work.  But first–”  In one swift movement, Babet moved to grab the other’s jaw, holding his head in place with one hand while the other flicked the knife across his cheek.  “Fair is fair.”  

“Now, if you’ll cooperate, my friend here will let go of you.  But only if you’ll cooperate.  Do you understand?”  With the cue, Gueulemer released his grip only slightly to give the other some semblance of freedom.  However, with the slightest movement or sign of defiance, the larger man would be ready to react in kind.