Dr. Jean-Paul Marat ☧ L'Ami du peuple 1st issue.
Characters: Marat & vatheon
Location: Plaza
Style: Anything.
Status: OPEN.
Notes: The Marat has arrived...
[ italics = French ]
[ A man with shaggy, wet black hair and a sloppy frock coat is sitting on a lone bench. He looks sickly, his face thin, his cheeks hollow, and dark circles engulf his green-gold eyes. His bony, scarred hands are trembling slightly. He looks like he just stepped out of the poorest section of 18th century France. Well, he did. Jean-Paul Marat was never one to feel homesick, never in his life did he feel homesick.. but now, he finds himself not just in physical pain for the sores and blisters, but he also yearns for his beautiful wife. He reaches into his shirt sleeves and pulls out a silver locket that has a picture of Simonne Evrad, his wife. She who gave him her love and devotion to the Revolution. He's glad that the portrait did not get wet. The water didn't even seep into the little sheet of glass the protected the portrait. A sickly grin creeped onto the man's lips... ]
Simonne... I miss you so much... My darling...
[ Marat quickly snapped the locket closed and tucked it back into his shirt sleeves when he heard footsteps getting closer to him... His stern eyes looked up to he who approached him... ]
Location: Plaza
Style: Anything.
Status: OPEN.
Notes: The Marat has arrived...
[ italics = French ]
[ A man with shaggy, wet black hair and a sloppy frock coat is sitting on a lone bench. He looks sickly, his face thin, his cheeks hollow, and dark circles engulf his green-gold eyes. His bony, scarred hands are trembling slightly. He looks like he just stepped out of the poorest section of 18th century France. Well, he did. Jean-Paul Marat was never one to feel homesick, never in his life did he feel homesick.. but now, he finds himself not just in physical pain for the sores and blisters, but he also yearns for his beautiful wife. He reaches into his shirt sleeves and pulls out a silver locket that has a picture of Simonne Evrad, his wife. She who gave him her love and devotion to the Revolution. He's glad that the portrait did not get wet. The water didn't even seep into the little sheet of glass the protected the portrait. A sickly grin creeped onto the man's lips... ]
Simonne... I miss you so much... My darling...
[ Marat quickly snapped the locket closed and tucked it back into his shirt sleeves when he heard footsteps getting closer to him... His stern eyes looked up to he who approached him... ]