Allons enfants de la Patrie/ Le jour de gloire est arrivé...

[aknighterrant]

For the struggling insurgents the world had shrunk to include only the Rue de la Chanvrerie and the café Corinth behind it, a world that was a myriad of smoke, dust, blood, mud, and rain. Enjolras had given his last orders, and soon the barricade would break and the small Parisian street that the students had kept safe for the French Republic since

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[fleurdescendres]

"Apologies, sir," Fleur returned, hands in pockets as she approached the newcomer, "but you have skipped straight to Hell instead." The fact that the young man had appeared out of thin air left her completely unfazed. It made a nice change, actually; people here tended to come and go in non-magical ways.

[fleurdescendres]

Fleur dropped the coy façade and laughed as he twirled her then, suddenly looking her nineteen years. "Not demons, I don't think. But the books always are changing. If you get one, when you go to put it back, they're all different."

[aknighterrant]

Courfeyrac chuckled. "Well, that's not so bad." It was surprising how quickly one got used to the oddness of it all. "At least one always has a fresh supply of books avaliable." Assuming they were worthwhile ones and not, oh, crumbling law texts.

[fleurdescendres]

"Ah, but that is the trick," Fleur said, walking backwards toward the building. "It mocks you, this bookshelf, and you never know - will you get something worth reading or a book that manages to be a commentary on your life? This whole island is like that."

[aknighterrant]

But there were some sorts of oddness that even Courfeyrac didn't expect. "This place mocks you? Please tell me you're kidding, cherie."

[fleurdescendres]

"Because," she said lightly, "it is not enough to be here, you must be mocked also. Not joking, sorry. It could be worse, though, I guess. The supplies replenish themselves." It was as close as Fleur could get to magic here.