The foul fiend follows me!

[legitimate_son]

*Wanders in naked, shivering, and wet with rain

Comments

[not24601]

...*chases after him and wraps a coat around his shoulders*

Are you alright, lad?

[legitimate_son]

*Grabs coat, dashes away* Aroint thee, witch! Aroint thee!

*Pauses, touches coat, looks at Valjean, comes forward*
The fiend follows after me, walks in my footsteps-- step! step! step!-- he gives poor Tom potions and thorns, blows and wounds, tricky words and twisting riddles, torments and tortures, gives all ill and no good. The foul devil has not given Tom a coat. I defy the foul fiend, I defy him, defy him; and the coat warms me. *Puts on coat*

[eagle_of_words]

Hello, my mad fellow! *cheerful* I wish you could hear the entertaining noises you've caused my typist to make: I can't call to mind a higher pitched sound.

Anyway, M. Jean there's brought the blankets, and I have the wine. Together we ought to be able to do something, at least, about your coldness.

[legitimate_son]

*Runs at typist* Shriek, lady! shriek! for all who meet poor Tom upon the hill, upon the heath, upon the road, shriek like harpies! They scream, screams that hurt his poor ears! O, poor mad Tom!

*Tastes wine, sputters* Sweet! Sweet and strong! Fie, foh, fum; I smell the blood of a British man... Tom's a-cold. *Grabs decanter of wine*

[eagle_of_words]

[Typist] *squeaks and falls over* It--it was meant to be a positive sort of shriek, I think. I do so like you. [/typist]

It's that, my good fellow. *laughs!* Why, I've been robbed. But who begrudges the poor and the mad?

[tartanineffable]

Please don't tell the devils to go away, or avaunt rather, as I rather like one of them...

Did someone call for an angel?

....well. You might want some clothes, my dear chap. *miracles up some trousers*

[legitimate_son]

*Stares at magical pants* Hark! an angel! Spirit, stay.

Keep them back, keep them back, fair angel! Let them not strike me, let them not tempt me, let them not torment me, no, no, do de do de. Take thy righteous sword and smite them! Or if you canst not, keep the foul fiend at bay.

[tartanineffable]

Oh, I'll keep him all right. At bay, I mean. Keep him at bay. Right.

...just put the trousers on, would you?

[legitimate_son]

Foh, be thou my shield, angel! Sessa, sessa, suum!

Um. I'faithIthanktheefairangel. *puts on trousers, which clash horribly with Valjean's coat but who the hell cares?*

[smart_wheels]

Um... Hey there.

[art_thou_gone]

Oh, my. Errr... while you gentlemen are getting him dressed, how about I make him some cocoa?

You sound like a hot drink would do you good, sir.

-Emmeline