![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Joly leans back against the hearth and smiles. It's a new feeling to be able to talk openly about his friends, without fear of spies and secrets.
"Let me think, here-- some of my friends have been here quite some time. You may have met them already? Enjolras maybe? Severe looking fellow, looks to be about your age, very blond? He's wearing all black, in mourning for- well, us, I suppose." He has to laugh a little at that, but it's a soft, surprised sort of laugh. However often he says I'm dead the evidence still seems all against it. "And for others. All in black, with a cockade? Sometimes he can be a bit reserved, but he's the finest of men. And if we can convince him to join our endeavor, we may see a theater before the seasons change-- he has a fantastic way of focusing.
"Grantaire, I gather , has been here longest. Dark hair, dresses much like me..." Joly rubs his nose distractedly. How would Grantaire look to someone who hasn't known him for years? "...he's often drunk, and rather loud, you may have heard him, too. He's a loyal friend, and he's got energy, if he chooses to use it." And Joly would never count him out.
"Courfeyrac dresses like all of us, but better. Dark hair, very properly curled. A little energetic" says Joly, from his sober perch of two more years' experience "but quite sincere. Wonderful fellow, you'll like him." He feels no fear on that front. Everyone likes Courfeyrac.
"I think Bossuet hasn't been here much longer than me." Joly doesn't notice his voice warm, or the way his shoulders relax, but he wouldn't be surprised by it. Thinking about Bossuet is comforting and comfortable. "He's tending bar a good deal; you'll probably see him there eventually. Usually smiling; he's got an excellent sense of humor. I'm sure he'll be game for anything we try with the theater. He's easy to spot, he's bald even though he's only a little older than me, and wears this old coat, I think we'll have to wait until it dissolves in midair to get it away from him--we tried a few times, back in Paris, to get him into something more recent, but of course then he wouldn't be so easy to find..."
Joly's smile falters a little. We had meant something a little different, back in Paris. He makes his voice light again and goes on.
"If you see any of them, if anything happens, please let me know-- especially Bossuet, he's one of the cleverest men I've known but things do happen to him-- and if you ever need to get a message to me, any of them will pass it on." Even Grantaire. Well. " Though you might want to make sure it's written down, with Grantaire."
Joly thinks for a moment, then adds "If you've met any of my friends, it's probably Gavroche. I gather he's been here the longest by years, though he died with the rest of us, back in France. He's much changed from the boy we knew; still, he is a friend. And seems to know a good deal about the workings of this place, though that may only be so to my eye."
He tilts his head to Autor. "What of your friends? If a flying horse falls on your head, who should hear the news?"
Things do HAPPEN to Bossuet.
"Let me think, here-- some of my friends have been here quite some time. You may have met them already? Enjolras maybe? Severe looking fellow, looks to be about your age, very blond? He's wearing all black, in mourning for- well, us, I suppose." He has to laugh a little at that, but it's a soft, surprised sort of laugh. However often he says I'm dead the evidence still seems all against it. "And for others. All in black, with a cockade? Sometimes he can be a bit reserved, but he's the finest of men. And if we can convince him to join our endeavor, we may see a theater before the seasons change-- he has a fantastic way of focusing.
"Grantaire, I gather , has been here longest. Dark hair, dresses much like me..." Joly rubs his nose distractedly. How would Grantaire look to someone who hasn't known him for years? "...he's often drunk, and rather loud, you may have heard him, too. He's a loyal friend, and he's got energy, if he chooses to use it." And Joly would never count him out.
"Courfeyrac dresses like all of us, but better. Dark hair, very properly curled. A little energetic" says Joly, from his sober perch of two more years' experience "but quite sincere. Wonderful fellow, you'll like him." He feels no fear on that front. Everyone likes Courfeyrac.
"I think Bossuet hasn't been here much longer than me." Joly doesn't notice his voice warm, or the way his shoulders relax, but he wouldn't be surprised by it. Thinking about Bossuet is comforting and comfortable. "He's tending bar a good deal; you'll probably see him there eventually. Usually smiling; he's got an excellent sense of humor. I'm sure he'll be game for anything we try with the theater. He's easy to spot, he's bald even though he's only a little older than me, and wears this old coat, I think we'll have to wait until it dissolves in midair to get it away from him--we tried a few times, back in Paris, to get him into something more recent, but of course then he wouldn't be so easy to find..."
Joly's smile falters a little. We had meant something a little different, back in Paris. He makes his voice light again and goes on.
"If you see any of them, if anything happens, please let me know-- especially Bossuet, he's one of the cleverest men I've known but things do happen to him-- and if you ever need to get a message to me, any of them will pass it on." Even Grantaire. Well. " Though you might want to make sure it's written down, with Grantaire."
Joly thinks for a moment, then adds "If you've met any of my friends, it's probably Gavroche. I gather he's been here the longest by years, though he died with the rest of us, back in France. He's much changed from the boy we knew; still, he is a friend. And seems to know a good deal about the workings of this place, though that may only be so to my eye."
He tilts his head to Autor. "What of your friends? If a flying horse falls on your head, who should hear the news?"
Things do HAPPEN to Bossuet.
