(no subject)

[clayforthedevil]

[elfwarning]

Bahorel is sitting with his feet up on one of the tables, scraps of what were once two coats spread around in obvious mid-project disarray, and a few glasses that were drinks, before they froze, scattered on the table. He's singing a very cheerful song.

It is not a Nice cheerful song.

There's a gently growing pile of elf dolls around him. Every now and then, in apparent response to the drinks, the cheerful song, or other comments, the dolls seem to add to their number. But really, it's getting a bit hard to tell. Still, there's room left at the table for non-elfish company.



((tagging may be slow, but open all weekend!))

Comments

[not_his_pa]

The horses are warm and there aren't a lot of elves in the stables, so he's been reading out there. Hunger brings him in and stops to stare at Bahorel, "Are you singin' to 'em?"

[clayforthedevil]

Bahorel grins. "That's right; that's exactly right. They clearly disapprove, you can tell by how they gather! Like any good gossips, they have to come disapprove in person. --How's the weather in your world?"

[not_his_pa]

"Same as here, too damn cold but without any elves. Some idiot was shootin' at him with a rifle a while ago. I like that, they're gossips."

[clayforthedevil]

"Gossips and moralists, to their core. All ready to hold a meeting, but then they keep a dry table." He holds one of the glass upside down; the drink inside notably fails to move. "That Madame Bar hasn't dimissed them for interfering with business is a testament to her patience. --They don't follow you to your world?" That's interesting, if not immediately useful to Bahorel.

[not_his_pa]

"No, that would be awkward," And weird, even for Milliways.

[heartbeneathastone]

"Oh, Bahorel!" Don't mind Marius's slightly distracted tone-- but then again, why would you, that's how he usually sounds. No, he hasn't noticed that you've been away. "Those are, ah-- interesting?-- dolls."

[clayforthedevil]

Yeah, Bahorel's not going to take that personally. "They're very good little moralists; they do nothing but stare and call their friends to join in. Ah, and ruin the drinks." That's a bit of amusement; it's a bar. "--What's the season in Paris?"

[heartbeneathastone]

"Moralists?" What? "I'm not sure I understand."

[clayforthedevil]

"Why, haven't you heard? They're here in the service of a great cause: to gather evidence on us all, so that judgement can be made on the good and the evil, or at least the naughty and the nice." Wait. "--You did know Pere Noel?"

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan Prouvaire comes inside from a walk out in the sparkling wintry weather. To ward off the cold, Jehan is wearing a thick blue cape--no prosaic parkas for him. Incongruously, he is also wearing a gaily-colored cap with ear flaps, two cords that tie under his chin, and a pom-pom on top.

He sweeps into the bar, collects a cup of hot cider, and beams when he sees Bahorel.

"A fine collection of mouchards you have there," he says, setting his cider down on the table and dropping into a chair. He begins to untie his hat.

[clayforthedevil]

It's very much a Jehan outfit. Bahorel returns the smile, and reaches out to bat fondly at the pompom. " I've been gather the audience for some time now. Like all their kind, they outrage easily, and rush to see more of what they consider shameful. Still, the crowd's not yet what it might be, but I think it may soon be time for a more dedicated entertainment.--Mind your drink, if it's one worth the name.'

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan sips at his cider, which is indeed spiked with rum. "They think your singing is shameful? What philistines! What sort of entertainment were you thinking of?"

[clayforthedevil]

Bahorel sketches the echo of a bow in acknowledgement of the compliment. "They are an audience of limited taste! Such we have often known.-- But what will suit them?--a good question! There's the obvious option for such frail sensibilities, of course-- a nice little piece of theater, maybe a bit of Guignol? Ah, it would take editing, but the challenge of the performance would be worth a try."

Ahaha. Well. "--That is, it's one of the obvious options; but the very obvious really benefits from a greater cast of performers than I can summon here." His grin is very clear about what he means. But apparently politely-phrased innuendo is lost on the elves; no more appear.

[pro_patria_mortuus]

Enjolras came downstairs with the distant and slightly rumpled look of someone who's been in the library for some... probably significant... number of hours. (It's a pretty common look for him.)

He's got two cups of coffee in hand now, and is making his way over to Bahorel's table. But he's stopped to read a certain posted sign along the way.

The elves, quite unlike Bahorel, didn't get any kind of affectionate look from him earlier. But now he's looking even more disdainful.

[clayforthedevil]

Bahorel's answering smile turns into a laugh at Enjolras' reaction to the dolls. "Nice little bits of work, aren't they?"

[pro_patria_mortuus]

"And what a note."

Enjolras doesn't have anywhere near Bahorel's comprehensive and loud distaste for all forms of authority. An appearance of respectability, many forms of courtesy, an authority he considers legitimate and exercised well -- all of that, he's fine with. But that note's a chiding, jollying let's all play politely now, children! thing, directed at the entire population of Milliways, and (especially since their Père Noël traditions are somewhat different) it puts his back up.

"You look like you're having fun, at least."

Bahorel always has fun thumbing his nose with merry fury at anyone trying to tell him what to do and how to do it!

[clayforthedevil]

Yes, Enjolras has always been a mystery like that. Still, he's always had a close enough definition of "legitimate" authority to work with-- as that little moue of disdain for the elf dolls shows.

"They're less entertainment in them than in a newspaper editor!" They're weak tea indeed as targets of rebellion, and Bahorel knows it. Still-- "Still they stare almost as well as priests, and anyone telling grown men and women we must behave like children at mass should give us at least that much entertainment. They're not as playful as some of the monsters we've had for the holidays, it must be admitted, but they do have that."

He swipes a few dolls out of the way so that Enjolras can sit without being buried, if he likes.

[so_many_crystals]

The front door opens, and -- oh look! It's a scientist!

Uh. Of sorts.

He has got a rack of test tubes, anyway. All of them contain liquid, and most of it is glowing.

"Foolish door! I did not give you permission to--"

Wait.

CRAFTY EYES. "That is, this is all part of my plan. I am such a genius."

He can get more supplies here! Yes. Okay, cool. Obviously he planned this all along, on some level. Good job, self.

"Pah!" he adds, to the little wooden elf staring at his scaly ankle. "What are you looking at, filthy miniature mammal?"

He gives it a good kick and stalks towards Bar. (Behind him, two more elves appear.)

[clayforthedevil]

It's the giant lizard thing Joly was telling him about! It's got to be!

Bahorel is delighted!

The elf dolls, meanwhile, cascade gently out of their heap, tumbling down to land neatly under Doctor Dinosaur's large, advancing feet.

[so_many_crystals]

STOMP STOMP.

He's not a T-Rex, but he can get some good wood-crunching going, especially with those claws.

"Bah!" Who's the nearest human? Beardy guy who looks like he's having way too much fun with his day. "Your disgusting mammal litter is all over the place. I, DOCTOR DINOSAUR, scoff at your housekeeping."

A test tube fizzes gently to itself, and another makes a quiet blorp.

[clayforthedevil]

"The famous Doctor Dinosaur! I've heard the legends of your intellect!" Bahorel laughed himself sick over it! "But this is not my housekeeping; these dolls disperse themselves."

[idareyou]

There's a sudden giggle from behind Bahorel--but whether it's at his song or at the pile of dolls, is anyone's guess.

[clayforthedevil]

Hey, Bahorel is completely fine with girls laughing in his general direction! He tips his chair back enough to look upside-down at her, grinning. "Hello, you're new here! --At least since I've been away. Do you know the next verse, then?"

[idareyou]

"Of course not!" Mary laughs again. That's not the sort of song fifteen-year-old gentlewomen are supposed to know! "But why are you singing for all these dolls?"

[clayforthedevil]

Hey, they're not supposed to laugh at those songs either! You never know!

"Why, isn't it a common tradition to sing to visitors on the holidays? They're from a place where they don't know songs like mine, either, and so I am educating them."

Very innocent and good hearted! Doesn't he look innocent?