pro_patria_mortuus | (no subject)

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It's a clear, fine night at the end of the universe. The afternoon was warm and sunny; it's night now, well after midnight, and the sky outside the window is bright with strange stars. By the Milliways calendar, capricious creature though it is, today was June 5. It's June 6 now, technically, in the dark hours between midnight and sunrise.

On this date, in 1832, Paris was an eventful place. A morning funeral, an uprising -- by afternoon, barricades -- by the evening of the 6th, violently and brutally suppressed.

Enjolras and Combeferre are still awake. They're not discussing the date, or past events. Indeed, they've discussed such things very little today. They have, instead, been reading. Every so often one or the other will read a passage aloud, or comment upon it, and then a conversation will unfold: a discussion of the future, or a friendly argument about its proper shape or interpretation. When silence falls, it's to resume reading, not to brood in silence.

If every so often one or the other of them seems to be reading more slowly than usual, and looking through the pages of his book -- or if a heavy silence falls in the middle of an argument, and is not immediately filled -- well, doubtless it's only distraction.

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The totally not significant silence is soundly interrupted by a heavy knock and a loud intonation of "ALL HAIL, GREAT LEADER."

Combeferre gives Enjolras a look of "oh, Bahorel." He puts his book down, carefully marked, and marches up to the door to fling it open.

"I see the circus is in town," he says to Bahorel, in lieu of greeting.

"So you say! But how can I trust your word, when you, like me, are a mere peon? Behold, there are two of us! Clearly, we cannot trust our own judgement. Come, fellow underling, me must consult the proper potentates!"

The speech is given, in a slightly more conversational tone, as Bahorel strolls into the room with a roll of papers under his arm and tosses himself carelessly on the sofa.

Edited 2015-06-09 03:36 (UTC)

The look of 'oh, Bahorel' is immediately recognizable, on account of seeing frequent use among everyone they know.

Enjolras closes his book around a finger. "You've been speaking to the spy, I see," he says, dry.

Ugh, that guy.

Seriously, UGH.

"The man is astounding. Many men try to play the dullard; he brings natural talent to the role. Congratulations on your ascendancy to Tyrant, Enjolras. A clever touch, to allow we commoners into the halls of..." Bahorel looks at the room and considers. "..the halls of dubious scientific endeavors."

Ugh, the spy. It's more rewarding to consider Enjolras' and Combeferre's decorating choices, and that is grim work indeed.

Edited 2015-06-09 03:57 (UTC)

Hey, now, Bahorel should like the placard Feuilly made for the door! And the red flag, which is both meaningful to them all and inarguably dramatic in effect.

...And then there's everything else, it's true. Mostly the everything else is Bar's decorating choice or Combeferre's scientific specimens.

"He shows a remarkable facility for ignoring all evidence of fact," Enjolras agrees, setting his book down atop the nearest stack. (On the bed. Who needs sleep when you can turn your bed into a couch-cum-library-table all night?)

"I suppose he has to, to live and believe as he does." Combeferre has read what Hugo had to say of Javert. If one-tenth of it is accurate, and the barricade section certainly is, then the man has devoted his life to an authoritarian social order, to domination and control made manifest in church and state. Javert will not see when a bourgeois attacks a prostitute, or when a convict is a good man. Why would he consent to see when a group of friends interacts on the basis of equality and brotherhood, and not the tyrannical rule of Enjolras?

The very thought of that forces Combeferre to suppress a snicker. "You make a poor despot, Enjolras. Your subjects are obstreperous and unruly." This, with a nod at Bahorel.

"Of course; savage that I am, I require instruction." Bahorel unrolls the papers he took off Javert's table. "--At least information."

He hands the sketches to his friends. "The spy was drawing them downstairs; do either of you recognize the men?"

The faces are all very clear , if--with the exception of one-- rather stiff and coldly drawn.

Enjolras's tolerant exasperation -- the exasperation directed at the absent spy, the tolerance at his friends -- disappears instantly into intent focus, as he moves so they can all look at the pages together.

"Yes. Nearly all of them, from the barricade." He indicates a few with light touches, some with more certainty than others: "These I couldn't swear to." He glances at the others, looking for input or reactions. "He may have details wrong, or they may have kept to the back of the crowd, or left early. But the others, yes."

And that Javert can draw them so clearly, face after face, is -- not good.

Bahorel is all seriousness now, too, studying the faces Enjolras hadn't recognized. "That fellow's one I knew from before the barricade-- just a carter. The others-- I didn't have too much time to know everyone. For us and the rest who died, there might be little enough harm; but I know a few survived, or were sent away."

And they'll be depending on becoming faces in the crowd. " I took this to show you, but it doesn't do anything to his memory. A face is harder to hunt than a name, sometimes, but it's still bad enough." And so, the obvious question: what to do about a memory, and the man carrying it?

Edited 2015-12-28 21:30 (UTC)

Combeferre examines the pictures. Of those Enjolras hasn't recognized--"This one is a porter," he says, "and that one a longshoreman, and he's among those who survived. In my timeline." He glances at Enjolras, for just a moment.

Then he turns back to the immediate problem. "Bad enough, yes. We've discussed the possibility of sending warnings back to our people, through Valjean. Beyond that--might we confuse the spy? Perhaps feed him false information?"

There's really no need to voice the most extreme solution just yet; it's premature, and it's also not as though any of them are ignorant of it.

Bahorel snorts. "There's no trouble getting him to talk to us, if we decide to try that. And I don't think he'd even question it-- he might have a fine memory, but that's a different matter."

Enjolras indicates faces among those he did recognize, now, with small, spare gestures. "These I know left." And thus probably survived, though for most of them there's no way to know. Ordinary workmen rarely make it into newspapers or history books, especially by avoiding the police's notice. "The rest, no."

And thus are dead. Barring other miracles like Marius's rescue -- and for some, he knows they were beyond the reach of any rescue.

But that's an undertone; not exactly an aside, not for so solemn a topic, but not the immediate problem to discuss.

"I hesitate to count too much on his stupidity, lest it fail just when we wish it wouldn't." That's a little dry. "And the trouble is how much he already knows. But if any of us see the opportunity... done with care, it's not likely to hurt, and it might help. What sort are you thinking?"

"There are several possibilities. The simplest would be to simply let one or two wrong facts slip, as if casually, the next time he accosts you. References to neighborhoods, to cafés, that sort of thing--the kind of thing that's unlikely to draw a burdensome suspicion on any particular person, but will keep Javert busy for a while." This is to Enjolras, since he seems to be Javert's favorite target.

"A more complicated possibility would be to leave a piece of paper in the bar, as if by accident, with some false aliases and meaningless codes, something Javert may 'find'...but I suspect that would be less persuasive than words spoken casually. Especially if they're spoken in anger. Which might make Bahorel a better messenger for the false information." This, with a faint grin at Bahorel.

"I've had a different thought, though: perhaps we might use the Labyrinth, somehow? To mislead him, or to delay him. If he goes to a different world through the Labyrinth, then will time pass in Paris, while he's gone, even though it wouldn't while he's in Milliways itself?"

Bahorel returns the grin. "I'll talk to Legle and Courfeyrac; between us I'm sure we can convincingly say all manner of ridiculous information by accident." A couple big talkers, in their cups, they might quarrel about anything. "--The Labyrinth's a good idea, if it will work to keep him away from Milliways and in the course of time; it might be our only chance in that direction."

Enjolras nods at this. Yes: they're better prospects by far than him.

If he sees a chance, he'll take it, but this kind of subtle deception isn't his strong point, and they all know it. He's not good at seeming careless. And besides that, he's spent every conversation so far steadfastly refusing to give the spy any information; to change that now would almost certainly seem suspicious.

The Labyrinth, though. "Yes," he says thoughtfully. "We don't have any control over it -- it's nearly an unknown -- nor any idea how long it will really be, or what he'll encounter there. But it's been a significant stretch of time. And he won't have any more control."

It's a risk, but... maybe one worth taking, now or later. Especially if there's something specific to keep him away from.

Bahorel nods."I can do it, if we have to; or you can. I don't think he's really much of a fighter, he moves wrong, but--" shrug. But they all have things they're more suited for, and if it comes to force he and Enjolras are the best choices for it. "And do it without much risk of real harm, I think; and it's not for any concern over the spy's health, but I don't want to have him popping up as our neighbor for eternity, at that."

Or getting patched up by one of Joly's miracle machines, with a whole new grudge.

"The Labyrinth looks like the most really permanent option we have--even if it's just for a few days at a time."

"At a time," Enjolras repeats, thoughtful. His glance turns it into a question.

Is Bahorel thinking to use the Labyrinth repeatedly, even in succession?

(He nodded in agreement with Bahorel's assessment, both of Javert and of which of them is best suited to this job if it comes to that.)

Bahorel answers the question with a glance of his own and the briefest nod. No point in pretending they'd be trying for a kind option if it comes to that; the Labyrinth is more practical, that's all.

"If we don't know how long the Labyrinth will hold him, repeated use will require some kind of a watch on the doorway. And it's certainly outside business."

This is not exactly an objection. Just logistical consideration; if they do something like this, it needs to be thought out thoroughly. (If they do anything, at least in the service of something serious, it needs to be thought out as thoroughly as the situation allows.)

Combeferre nods along at the discussion of how the Labyrinth may be used, and who's most capable of doing it. He knows he's not going to be the first person asked to use force, and he's shamefully relieved. Relieved that his own lack of skill and instinct spares him this. It's not fair to put the burden of conscience on Bahorel or Enjolras, even if they're willing and able, just as it wasn't fair that Enjolras was the first to react to Le Cabuc. Combeferre would have killed Le Cabuc, he knows that; but he also knows he'd never have been the first to reach the man. Others would always beat him in the race to bear that weight.

Which may be why he says, "We might also get him to the Labyrinth by trickery, though I don't yet have a specific plan for how. But yes--we can take it in shifts to watch the doorway. It's outside business, but will that matter once we're not in the bar?"

Edited 2015-12-29 20:33 (UTC)

Enjolras gestures uncertainty.

If it were up to him, he would count it. Stepping outside a building shouldn't bring one outside the rule of this place's laws; it's a doorway, not a national border. But how Security might judge it is a different question, and he doesn't know the answer to it, especially since they seem to be at least a bit more lax about violence done out of doors. It may well depend on the individual Security member who takes up the case, frustratingly.

Better not to count on leniency in what might not even be a grey area, anyway.

Edited 2015-12-29 21:54 (UTC)

"Dueling is permitted outside the bar itself, after all. That's why Percy could do it. If dueling's allowed, why not outside business?"

Not that Combeferre's pushed the limits of this rule himself. "We shouldn't rely on it, of course. We must be prepared to take the consequences."

Bahorel laughs a little at that. "Have you seen the cells? It's nothing much to fear. -- A smaller room, that's all." Why yes, he'll go mad if he has to spend very long in a small room, but he's gone mad several times being stuck in Milliways at its most spacious. He's good at going mad, and getting back from it.

"But the difference with the duels is people agree to them. It's like sparring; Security doesn't mind that either. There's probably not much chance of getting the spy to just agree to hop in the Labyrinth--not without lying, and we'd likely get pinned for that too."

" And not everyone turns an eye to dueling; and not all outside business is banned. No one stopped Enjolras and Bossuet from trying to affect our world back in '30."

He glances at Enjolras as he says that-- they didn't, right?

"So it seems it's down to agreements--more or less. If we could convince the man to wander off on his own, that wouldn't likely draw security; but I can't imagine an appeal to his curiosity would work."

...But maybe some other tactic. It's worth considering, actually; people can be talked into all sorts of things, sometimes unexpectedly, as Bahorel knows well (And this is why Feuilly has a pierced ear.).

"Agreements--yes, that's a sensible enough principle," Combeferre says, thoughtfully.

He snorts at the idea of Javert doing anything out of sheer curiosity. "Well. Perhaps, if he believed some of us were, oh, plotting revolution, or doing something else of interest to him, in the Labyrinth...that could draw him there, of his own volition. Though as you say--we'd likely face the cells for the deception anyway."

Even if the cells aren't much to face.

Enjolras shakes his head at Bahorel's questioning glance: no, no one tried to stop him and Bossuet, nor said anything against it.

"Agreements, and knowledge. If one of us pushes him into the Labyrinth by force, whenever he returns he'll surely complain of it to Security. If he thinks it's his own idea to go in there, for whatever reason, what grounds would he have for complaint? Though that's harder to manage. Perhaps if I told him not to go there he might march off to do it."

That last is dry, and more than half a joke. But... not quite entirely. Javert's pettiness is astounding sometimes; one can never be sure the simplest schoolboy trick won't work on him.

The issue of knowingly breaking the rules here and taking the consequences is worth discussing, though he's sure of all their answers. But the practicalities first.

Bahorel laughs at the idea of the spy stomping off into the Labyrinth on a child's dare-- and then starts considering it. The man is almost belligerently direct; could it be that simple?

" I know some of the others have spoken with him; Joly and Bossuet a bit, Feuilly a few times." And that any of them spoke to the spy more than once is a testament to his friends' charity and patience, because Bahorel's pretty sure he can't try it again without hitting someone.

Combeferre nods. "We can discuss it with them, then, before we settle on a plan."

As always, any plan will be better for the involvement of all their friends.

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