We present to you, citoyens et citoyennes...

[abaslabastille]

So here's a young man (thirty-four, though he's claimed otherwise), looking very surprised to be on a boat (he expected heaven, he expected Hell, he said he expected nothing in particular), and also looking tired, worn out (sick of all the nonsense). His clothes are in disarray, and his wrists have been rubbed raw, though the chains are gone. He's holding a lock of someone's hair between his fingers, and he's leaning over the railing, staring at the ocean.

Typist: Camille Desmoulins, late of Paris, featured in La Revolution Francaise and possibly Ca Ira and 1792: Doubt. The barricade boys might want to do something about those heart attacks. >_>