[open] then shall thy light rise up in darkness

[almaredemptoris]

Who: Jean Valjean (almaredemptoris) & YOU
What: Various activities as the city cools down
When: Throughout March
Where: Olympia
Warning(s): None


I. The Sanctuary

As the riots subside, diminishing from a wild blaze to glowering embers, and it becomes no longer necessary or practical to barricade oneself in his own home, Jean Valjean is quick to answer the call to help. It is not the blessing of Thesa he seeks, nor the bolstering of his reputation, but the soothing of his conscience. When before him are those in need, he feels compelled to lend what aid he can.

So, with a long list of components folded and tucked within his pocket, he sets out with a partner to replenish the ravaged supplies of the Sanctuary. Whoever accompanies him in this endeavor will find in him quiet company as they traverse the market district and the gardens to which the Sanctuary has access. He focuses on the task at hand, addressing occasional comments or questions such as, "Where do you think such an ingredient could be found?"

Later in the week, he may be sent out with a basket of medicinal potions and a list of addresses to visit. He is still learning the city's layout, so hopefully whomever he has been paired with is better versed in the twisting and narrow roads of Olympia, lest they end up turned around.

II. Rebuilding Olympia

When he is not under the direction of the Sanctuary, Jean Valjean devotes what time he can to the broader efforts to restore the city. Whether he is assisting Olympians and fellow refugees in repairing homes and businesses, or assisting in the collection of food, clothing, blankets, and other goods for the city's shelters, he works with a serious diligence. He brightens when he watches after the stray children of men and women hard at work, occupying them with stories and following along with their games. They are as dim shadows of his own Cosette, and he feels a bit more cheerful and a bit more melancholy at once.

He does not volunteer to supervise the cowed rioters as they carry out their sentences of cleaning streets and restoring the palace gardens, but as he carries out his own tasks he might be caught watching them with a countenance that is more pensive than contemptuous.

[OOC note: Feel free to reply in brackets or prose, I have no preference. PM me or use my comment on the plotting post (linked above) if you would like to plot. :)]

Comments

no worries!

[almaredemptoris]

The commonplace book and fountain pen that Edgeworth extracts from his pocket supports his initial perception of a cerebral man. He glances over the revised list, mapping in his head their route as best he can with his incomplete knowledge of the city. The red light district in particular is terra incognita for him, but if his expression shifts upon realizing where their route would lead them, it is not judgment that crosses his features but rather the touch of pity. In Paris, such is not a line of work a woman chooses, but rather one that befalls her as does the shadow of misfortune. "Very well," he assents in regard to the plan. And in answer to the question, he adds, "I arrived only a few weeks ago."

[milesedgelord]

He handed him a copy of the new list he made, written in a neat cursive. A few addresses were numbered within the districts in regards to proximity.

"In case we need to separate," he stated, adjusting his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Ah, I see. You'll get the hang of this city soon enough I expect. I've been here about six months now, and I must admit things are a bit more adventurous than I am accustomed to. How do you like it thus far?" He said as he began to walk towards the first address, which was a few blocks down the street.

[almaredemptoris]

As he falls into step beside the other man, he weighs the question and ultimately says, "There is a lot to become accustomed to. But I am grateful for the chance at a new start." It was the third new start he has been afforded, and the most miraculous, salvaged as he was from what he felt certain was the end of times. Yet this time, unlike when he began anew in Montreuil-sur-mer and again at the convent at Petit-Picpus, he has something to miss from the life before: Cosette, the child whom he had taken under his wing and become a father to. Cosette, who now lies asleep in the dark pall of the stars overhead. In so short a time he had grown used to her presence by his side, where now gapes a hole in her absence.

[milesedgelord]

"I know many men who are... I'm happy you got it if you needed it. I suppose it is the kind of place we can carve out the kind of men we want to be. Though I must admit it is a bit hard to let go of my old self."

For him, the new start wasn't something he necessarily wanted. He was so close to reforming the corrupt justice system back home that so much of his work felt like a total loss at this point.

Was he even a prosecutor anymore? He had been nothing else since he was twenty and had only wanted to study law since childhood.

"But one can find ways to be of service to others regardless of who we were."

[almaredemptoris]

Nor had he wished to be uprooted again so soon after settling into the house on Rue Plumet as well as his daily habits, the new life he had so meticulously crafted for Cosette and himself. None would wish for the world to perish; what he is grateful for is the miraculous chance at life when the end of times should have meant the end of men too. It was with burgeoning relief - and in relief's shadow, the prick of guilt - that he realized too that this means all legal records are lost from any land ravaged by the darkness. A slate wiped clean, although he cautiously holds to his old habits of concealment nevertheless. "Yes, even if it is but little, I see to help where I can," he answers simply. By now, they are nearing the first address on the list.