Once upon a time...

[timefather]

[ For the residents of Märchenstraße, and all the land surrounding it, the eighth of December was a day to look forward to. Looking at it from an outside perspective, strangers and travelers could easily assume it to be a holiday. At the very least, a day for a festival, if a modest one. A day that shopkeeps spent all morning preparing for, that all manner of creatures spent days traveling to the city to witness. They'd heard the talk that passed around, the rumors from those still left. But would it work? No one knew for sure, no matter how confident the stories seemed to be. But hope was very quickly becoming all they had left.

They had decorated the whole town. Streamers, banners, wreathes and garland made of autumn flowers, plus whatever the Fairy Godmother had cooked up. Oh, she was just giddy. No skepticism could be spoken around her, not if you wanted to escape the wrath of her wand! Rumor had it that she had caught wind of a few piglets squealing about the likelihood that their magic would fail, and that they were subsequently transformed into the band of musicians who could be found performing in the park.

Well, at least the music was festive.

Of course, the decorations weren't for the newcomers alone. Autumn was coming to a close in just a few weeks, and Old Man Winter would take the reigns like he did every year, and their weather would turn cold and harsh. The chill was already there, cool and biting when the wind picked up speed. Lady Autumn was much preferred to the citizens of the city with her gentle nature, even if she failed to show up, finishing her work in the orchards instead. That was what they liked about her.

It was mid-morning when Father Time was found outside of his tower, checking one of the numerous pocket watches he kept on his person. "Unnecessary, but comfortable," he called them, and closed the watch again. It was twelve o'clock in the afternoon, and where empty space had been just seconds before, now they were. Sitting on benches, lying in flower patches, scattered about the city and outside of the gates in peaceful slumber. They would awaken to the bells of the clock tower. Some, to many friendly and relieved faces all around them, some to grateful ones carrying gifts of food and clothing and magic, and some to fearful, cautious faces. Regardless of how the town treated them, they would awaken to a celebration of their arrival, and choices to be made, and the books. Each and every one. ]

Comments

[gardienne]

[The bells rouse Eponine from her slumber, but she groans and rolls over, quite expecting to feel her cheek meeting packed mud from the ditch where she had fallen asleep in Paris. But no - beneath her cheek, something tickles her. Grass.

She opens her eyes and sits up, slowly taking in her surroundings. Never, ever has she seen such a place.]

Do I dream? But oh, how funny Paris looks this morning.

[As of yet, she hasn't even noticed her book]

[themortalson]

[One worn boot sways as he sits cross-legged with his hands in his pocket, Shinjiro only raises his head slightly when someone else stirs. Lucky for the grass-waking individuals, the people waiting don't just migrate to the next person to stare until they're up, leaving it relatively quiet.]

[He stops, stares, and grunts.]

This isn't Paris.

[gardienne]

No?

[She laughs easily, quite sure that this strange man is joking]

Then where are we, Monsieur?

[She realises then, that there are a lot of people lying on the grass... and though there are a lot of poor in the Paris she comes from, they do not usually lie about in the open in such a way. She looks back to Shinjiro in confusion.]

Monsieur, if you please, what has happened?

[themortalson]

[Shinjiro's mouth remains a thin line. He doesn't joke often.]

No idea.

[He hasn't bothered asking for a name to the town because he doesn't plan on sticking around. Raising a hand to his head, he adjusts his beanie to scratch his head.]

Look, I woke up here too. None of the assholes would stop cheering long enough to answer any of my questions.

[... Glancing around, seems like he just made every animal within the general vicinity upset. Well, he didn't ask them. Didn't realize that it had been an option more like.]

[gardienne]

[She stops laughing, and instead looks properly at the people staring back at her. And simultaneously, all of them begin to cheer. She's definitely alarmed.]

It cannot be Paris... they cheer us when we sleep in a field. But why? Are they not cross? Why do they not chase us away?

[She looks all around again, her eyes finally lighting on the book next to her, and the pile of matches, and the tattered old apron lying beneath them.]

Are these for me? A book? They are giving me a book? Is it for me? A real book?

[themortalson]

[God he's going to have a migraine. The people are too damn loud. All he can do is shrug because he doesn't know still.]

[A brow rises when she seems to react oddly at the prospects of owning a book.]

If they're next to you, take them. [No one complained when he grabbed his.] But it's not a book. It's a journal.

[gardienne]

What is a journal, Monsieur?

[She's never heard of one before.]

It is not a trick, is it? I will tell you, Sir, I am NOT a thief, and I will not be accused of it here.

[She's lying - but Shinjiro doesn't need to know that. Gingerly, she picks up the journal, stroking her finger almost reverently over it's spine. Then she picks up the matches, turning the bundles over in her hand - but they're just matches. And finally, the apron - she shakes it open: it's dull, an odd greyish-brown in colour, and about as tattered as the clothes Eponine has woken up in.]

I have not had a great many presents, Sir, but this seems to me to be a strange one indeed.

[petitgamin]

'Ponine? [Your little brother will just be floating over you] Wat choo doin' here?

[gardienne]

Oh la! And now my brother flies .

[She looks up at Gavroche in complete and utter astonishment, but she seems to speak to a wider audience.]

Have I gone mad? Did my Pa make good on his threat and find me whilst I sleep? He cannot have killed me, for this is too much like heaven for it to be hell. But - oh! Gavroche, is it truly you?

[petitgamin]

Aen't thinkin' Pa killed you. Yer too colourful fer that. [He gives a little huff and the flying comment, but is too fed up with it to try to concentrate to set himself down again.] Aen't like I'm doin' the flyin' all deliberate, like. Just keeps happenin'.

Fink it's me. Aen't rightly sure. Don't fink I could fly before.

[gardienne]

I don't know how it is happening. Do you tell me, honestly Gavroche, that you fly? As truly as I sit on the floor? For all honesty, I feel as if I am seeing things. How is Paris so different? This is not where I fell asleep last night.

[petitgamin]

[Gavroche rubs his nose a little, and gives a shrug] It aen't exactly somethin' which 'm aware o' doing. Just been doing it since I woke up 'ere, aen't I? Pretty sure it's flyin' though, an' it comes all easily. Fink this is a new place, 'Ponine. Or we're touched in the 'ead.

[gardienne]

A new place? But how?

[She struggles to her feet, looking warily at the villagers as they begin to applaud her. They, however, turn away as soon as she looks at them.]

If you can fly, can I? How is it done?

[lil_sunspot]

[The lack of ceremony Kiri puts into running around, searching, has an oddly manic focus. And when he stops by Eponine, her comments go right over his head.]

Hey, y'seen a girl with blue hair? I need t'find her.

[gardienne]

[Eponine just stares at this strange man with red eyes in utter astonishment for at least a full minute before she even begins to process his words.]

Blue hair, Monsieur? Blue hair? But no - such a thing does not exist. Monsieur, are you well? Your eyes are such a peculiar colour.

[lil_sunspot]

[After a whole minute it's a miracle Kiri is still within earshot. The moment he hears her echo back 'blue hair', that little bit of hope snaps the boy to her side in two seconds flat. And then 'no'. He goes from happier than he's been all day to mildly annoyed in an instant, not even pausing to contemplate what Monsieur means.]

Wha - no. 'm fine. Look -

[Kiri holds out a hand in offer to help her stand. It's more out of frustration and the slightest hope that the least good that can come from this is the girl believing him, than goodwill.]

If y'find her, gimme a holler.

[gardienne]

[She takes his hand in her own grimy one, and allows him to help her up, but she's still confused.]

But, Monsieur. Blue hair? There is no such thing, is there? How do I call to you?

[lil_sunspot]

[Everything Eponine says goes right through him -- doesn't even realize she's talking. When their hands meet, Kiri doesn't feel Flare. There is no comforting spark, and lightness. The one thing that made him special, that defined his importance in the world, that placed him in Elle's life. The one thing that keeps her alive. Nowhere. Kiri is rooted to the spot. He has felt terror in being beaten, in seeing her seizure and vanish, but never like this. This can't be right.]

C-can y -... d'ya feel lighter? Stronger...? Somethin'?

[He doesn't let go of Eponine's hand. At the very least, it's clear her grimy fingers don't bother him.]

[gardienne]

I'm sorry, Sir. I'm sorry. I thought -

[His eyes scare her, that big wide eyed, terrified expression. But she has no idea what he's scared of. Her? But she is not frightening, not to anybody. She's just a scrawny weed of a girl, all eyes and hair. Perhaps he thinks she'll rob him? But then, why did he offer his hand? Why does he not take it away now? His question catches her off guard, and she begins to laugh.]

Every day I feel lighter, Monsieur, until one day I am sure I will disappear all together. My head feels like it spins by itself in the sky above my body sometimes, but when my belly rumbles, I remember and I know that I am just hungry. It is a peculiar feeling, but Sir, it is nothing to be afraid of. It will go away if you can find food. Or brandy, for that will send you to sleep when you are in such a state and then you simply dream.

[big_n_tall_paul]

Good afternoon ma'am, you look a might bit confused. Are you new in Märchen?

[Every time he's walked through the court, each time causing the whole thing to rumble and shake as he walked by, he's seen her sitting alone. Now he looms above her, his shadow falling over her. No one should be alone on such a festive day.]

[gardienne]

Monsieur Brujon?

[It's instinct - her first reply to the biggest man she has ever seen - bigger even than the great brute in her Pa's gang who will surely be allowed to beat her to death if they should meet again. She had willed herself invisible when she had seen Paul walk by before, but his friendly tone makes her realise - no. Not Brujon. Not remotely French sounding. Not death. Not today.

No - excuse me, Monsieur. You made me think of a - well.

[She pauses awkwardly.] Where did you call such a place? Märchen? That does not sound French either.

[big_n_tall_paul]

Brujon? No, ma'am, m' name is Paul Bunyan.

[He can't help but notice her wince when she first saw him. It was expected, didn't mean Paul had to like it though. However, this girl was braver than most, and it did not go unnoticed by Paul.]

Well the town is called Märchenstraße, but I find it a smidge easier on the tongue to say Märchen. And no it's not French, though I'm not even sure what French is.

[gardienne]

No? But you speak French, Monsieur.

[She laughs. It seems comical to her that someone can speak a language without realising it.]

But if Märchenstraße is not French, then it is not in France, and surely I cannot have walked so far as that in one night. Usually, it takes me ages and ages even to walk to the outskirts of Paris, and Montfermiel took a day and a night of walking... it must be magic.

[She laughs again, obviously joking about the idea of magic. Eponine doesn't believe in magic.]

[big_n_tall_paul]

[The thunderous rumble of Paul's chuckle undertones the girl's laughter. He doesn't know where France is, and he knows he does not speak French. He leaves that alone for now and confirms her suspiscion.]

Of course it's magic! Magic is what got you here. Everybody knows that. What kind of place is France that it doesn't have magic?

[gardienne]

But there is no such thing as magic.

[This place is mad. This whole place and everybody in it - or else she is mad. Has she gone mad? Has her father addled her brains? But, why? Why should he do that? Eponine doesn't know what to think.]

But - how? How does it be so? There is no magic, and yet I see my brother fly, and I have matches and a man with red eyes screams for a girl with blue hair. And now you - you are as big as Monsieur Brujon and yet, you do not grunt at me, and you do not raise your fists. Have I truly gone mad? Am I so hungry that this time Paris has disappeared all together before my eyes? Things are queer when you are hungry, but this is the strangest thing I have ever seen.