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@vocespraeterita. ( for javert! )

she's grinning; a rare occurrence, something that only happened on better days. this must've been one of them, for her teeth are bared in something other than malice.

❝ miss me? ❞

she drops into the seat beside her papa, clapping a hand against his shoulder with a laugh as she does so. she had good news. she was happy. éponine knows for a fact she'll have another night with a full belly, her brother and sister are safe, and that her presence is wanted. it was more than she could have possibly ever thought to ask for.

❝ monsieur alexandre has hired me as a sweeper. ❞ she waits a beat. the smile grows. her jaw aches from the foreign feeling. ❝ the pay isn't much to start, but look! ❞ the girl's hand immediately goes to her pocket, fishing out a wrinkled ten francs. she drops it onto javert with a triumphant smugness. ❝ not too bad for a past thief. now, how's my old man doing? ❞

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on this fine sunday i would just like to say that éponine has a below average singing voice and the only person who knows this is gavroche when she sings him lullabies

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i think if éponine were ever to get seriously injured (shut up i know she gets fucking shot and dies) she would adamantly refuse help and try to (poorly) take care of it herself

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let it be know eponine's fixation on marius borders on unhealthy and she should probably definitely maybe seek some fucking therapy

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@deadranch liked for a starter from éponine.

❝ i much prefer for you to keep your hands where i can see them. put them up. ❞

there comes that gravelly voice, hardened from drink. it is not above a whisper. she stares at him warily, keeping him at length now; he had a gun, she had realized when she got too close to steal, thus immediately prompting her to pull her knife. she raises it, her eyes nothing short of just as sharp.

éponine was without the presence of the patron-minette, and she always found trouble when working alone. so much for nicking from this stranger.

the wallet sits abandoned on the rotting wooden floorboards of the bar between them, out of her reach. the small scuffle between them had ensured that much. she gestures, her attempt at a threat, the weapon glinting in the low light.

❝ dépêche-toi. hurry. it is only business... so to speak. ❞

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@coristories liked for a starter from meg giry.

❝ monsieur le vicomte! ❞ her cry is one of delight, and the little giry comes bounding up to him backstage with no hesitation. her grin is from ear to ear, and she offers some small semblance of a curtsy, skinny hands clutching the tulle of her skirt.

❝ to what do i owe the pleasure? have you been watching the rehearsal? ❞ she rocks on her feet, releasing her skirt, and tapping her chin with her index finger with a thoughtful hum.

❝ or perhaps it is to see christine? she has taken ill, you know — lost that angelic voice. how tragic. i should begin a serial upon this mystery! ❞ a laugh, shoulders and head shaking, before she continues.

❝ fret not. she will return, she always does. ❞

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there is nothing fantine would not do for cosette :( there is nothing she would not give of herself so that her daughter can thrive. cosette is the love of her life, her flesh and blood, the most precious thing in fantine's heart. she is the best thing that's ever happened to her. that little girl brought so much love and light into the world. even after tholo left them both, fantine never stopped loving her, not even for a second. something so wonderful, so kind and gentle, came from something so horrible, and for that fantine seeks to protect her.

if it were in fantine's power, nothing would ever happen to cosette as long as she lived.

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@theinnocnt, continued from here.

❝ oh, honey... ❞ persephone is no stranger to the girlish whims provided by being young, she remembers it like yesterday. in her mother's green fields, picking flowers, singing to herself...

the rain comes on harder as they stand, and persephone laughs, tickled and soaked to the bone. off maggie goes, perfectly content to be frolicking in the sudden thunderstorm. persephone shakes her head, smiling, too endeared to truly find the will to protest. the cottage could always wait. a warm drink after a dance sounded too good to resist.

❝ suppose i could. i've still got it, you know! ❞ persephone leaves the safety of standing on the porch, back out into the downpour and back in the full presence of her companion. she gives a little twirl as she nears, another laugh, and she bows: offering maggie a meaningful open hand. she wiggles her ringed fingers.

❝ you just promise to keep it from the big man, doll. he thinks i'll catch cold out in this kind of weather! as if i even could! he worries too much. now, ❞ she says, flexing her fingers around maggie's hand, ❝ 'fraid i can't remember my last waltz. i'll try to avoid trampling ya. ❞

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éponine open starter.

❝ what does he see in her? ❞ her voice is thicker from drink, lower in her throat; her half-lidded eyes stare contemplatively at the glass bottle she’d already drank three fingers from. her hands lightly drum on the tabletop, impatient; perhaps more at herself, if anything, before éponine speaks again. a nasty storm was brewing tonight, it would seem.

❝ is it her curly hair? her pink cheeks? her wide brown eyes? oh, i could just scratch them out —! ❞ she all but hisses, her voice garbled in her chest, each syllable drowning in gin — and self pity.

❝ i hate — no, i couldn’t hate her — you can find a girl like her down at the docks, any day or night. a bourgeois, two-a-penny thing. she doesn’t know better. ❞ bitterness seeps in, and to chase it she takes half a swallow from the bottle growing more empty by the hour.

she spares a glance across the table, her eyes flickering dangerously in hardened anger and frustration. at least she wasn't alone.

❝ i should really hate him. why is he so blind? i have been a fool. what did i ever do to him, except for care? i don’t understand. i don’t, ❞ she laments miserably, finally passing the bottle over to her companion. ❝ i wish i could make marius see. but he only sees what he wants to. ❞

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i still want eponine to meet erik so she can steal his cufflinks

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@inbox5 liked for a starter from mina murray.

the paris opera was everything she had anticipated, and so much more. the westenra family had spared no expense on this trip. lucy, dearest lucy, of course requested that mina must come too, for she would surely die without her presence. that, it would seem, was subjective: mina has long since lost sight of lucy once the show had ended. much to mina's dismay, even after conducting several searches of the vast halls, she was still nowhere to be seen.

mina sighs to no one but herself, a pause taken to lean against the wall. one hand plants there while the other, as she reaches down, works to untie the laces holding her boots together. she manages to loosen them both within a few moments, and she feels small relief for her sore feet. it was late, and the people were dwindling, surely no one would notice at a glance that she was holding her shoes rather than wearing them?

at long last she takes them off, pulling each one off with one swift motion. both of them land with a thump, and she wiggles her toes in her stockings, feeling better already at the coolness of the floor.

i still have to find lucy, she thinks dismally, a little more than frustrated at her friend's flightiness. where on earth could she have possibly gone? no doubt with a new acquaintance!

mina senses motion in the darkness, with only the slightest noise accompanying it, like silk brushing against silk. her eyes, now a little wide, scan the empty room once more. she finds nothing. at least, at first. mina has a logical mind, though she is still intrigued by the rumors of the ghost that haunts the palais garnier. if all rooms were as vast, as empty, as black as pitch as this one, she could see why such a tale would transpire. the walls were open, yet all too tight and enclosing.

❝ goodness, mina, you think such strange things! ❞ she lightly scolds herself, picking up her boots and turning to deposit herself in a nearby chair. she lands with a huff, and sets her boots down on the floor by her feet. she sinks into the chair eagerly, having had to sit perfectly straight for the performance itself.

❝ i do hope lucy hasn't gotten into trouble... ❞