Valjean hasn't been around the likes of here for quite sometime.He wanders around,not lost but almost unfamiliar with his surroundings.
He's mostly unaware of who the people who now reside here are, but he is always prepared to greet new faces. Valjean sits, wondering if anyone will approach him.

((Jean Valjean from Victor Hugo's Les Miserables

Marius is standing in the main room (mercifully un-crackplotted for this post), smiling very broadly and not quite bouncing. "Cosette and I would like to announce the birth of our son, Georges Jean Marie. He's quite healthy, as is his mother." He stays there a moment longer, beaming, and then turns to hurry off back to the baby and Cosette. But ( Read more... )

As everyone knows, tea is sort of the staple of life around the Mansion. And some ruthless being has gone right to the source. Most of the tea is still in its neat little boxes, not conveniently laid out, because we all know how people adapt (and gods don't play fair), but anyone desiring their breakfast beverage of choice may find it does a little ( Read more... )

Enters a good-looking young man in his early twenties, tall and lean in a manner that suggests he will likely go quickly to heaviness once he gets older and less energetic; but at the moment, all cheery grace as he wanders up the path. "B'god, if this is Paradise they're letting anyone in these days! Hallo? Anyone here?"

Typist: Right, so since ( Read more... )

She meant to break down that door and see whether the Doctor and, above all, the wife of Evremonde were inside, and she had been hindered by that horrible English woman, and then she had meant to shoot her, and then there had been a lot of noise and a lot of light ( Read more... )

There is a young man sitting in the kitchen. It would be difficult to say how long he’s been there - he is very quiet, very still, very intent on the thick book in front of him ( Read more... )

Any day now the Mansion will be blanketed in snow and festooned with icicles, right on schedule; but for the moment, the lawns are still bare, the wind brisk but not bitter, the air bracing. Conveniently, because something seems to be going on ( Read more... )

A man enters tonight, not overly tall, but well built, and with what would be considered, amongst most societies, a remarkably handsome face. While his colouring is almost a pallid white, his hair is dark, and his eyes bright and penetrating.

He's just been notified by his valet de chambre that Baron d'Epinay and Vicomte de Morcerf have come to ( Read more... )

The well-stocked cellar of the Mansion is silent except for a faint, steady dripSomewhere a leak has developed. Drop by drop, perfectly good alcohol is trickling onto the floor, forming a slowly growing pool. A problem easily remedied, once it's discovered ( Read more... )

*In walks Queen Attolia, her head held high and proud. She is fair with her people, though ruthless if the moment calls for it. She wears her clothing and her hair in an immitation of one of the great goddess, to remind her people just who wields the power in this country. She is breath-takingly beautiful, but her eyes are cold. She trusts few, ( Read more... )