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psalm_onethirtyoneSam, being beset by bobbing little lights. She has logics for the cheerfulness of Joly, Bossuet, and Courfeyrac, which is largely that they don't quite take anything seriously at this point.
On Monday, Samuel met Joly and Bossuet. Courfeyrac dragged Joly along, poking him and laughing the funny little good-humoured laugh that Courfeyrac always laughed. Bossuet followed with rather long steps. They came upon Samuel and Combeferre standing together, talking about something that had happened in class. Courfeyrac bounded over energetically, and grabbed Combeferre's sleeve.
"Mon ami, mon ami! My esteemed companions, Jerome Joly (whose parents must have enjoyed that exotic touch of alliteration) and Georges L'aigle, who we call Bossuet (you can see why)." He announced this proudly, as though he'd discovered the greatest treasure in the world in these two men. "These two splendid fellows wish to join us. Joly is in medicine," he added.
Joly gave Samuel a sweet grin, and ducked his head. He was a slightly plump, rather adorable-looking person with curly blond hair and glasses. They looked quite different from Combeferre's.
Bossuet, in turn, took Samuel's hand and shook it. He was tall and his arms and legs seemed too long, and Samuel was pleasantly surprised to find that he was the sort of person who didn't shake one's hand too weakly or too firmly, but instead in a just-right sort of way.
"Salut, Enjolras! Courfeyrac has told me your name."
"Quite so. Yes." Samuel smiled at him, already inclined to like him.
Courfeyrac only stood by, silent for once, beaming proudly over Joly and Bossuet.
Combeferre stepped forward. "Salut. I'm Combeferre." He smiled as well.
"Salut, salut, salut everyone!" Courfeyrac sprang back into action. "There are six of us now! Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Joly, Bossuet. In the order of our joining. That's progress, man!" he cried delightedly.
Joly prodded Courfeyrac with the knob of his cane. "You rascal." He turned to Samuel. "Courfeyrac has, you understand, outlined what we are, what we want, and what we're doing, but as he is Courfeyrac, I don't trust him an inch. If you'd be so good as to explain?"
Samuel drew himself up a little, unconsciously. "We are called Les Amis d'ABC."
"Abaisse?" asked Bossuet.
Samuel nodded. "Rather."
"It's a pun, isn't it?" said Joly happily.
"Yes. Yes, it is. At any rate, we're revolutionaries. Don't think otherwise. We shall have a revolution. We want liberty. Our motto is that of the Revolution. Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. You understand?"
"Quite. That's what Courfeyrac said, in essence, though he coloured it up a bit." Joly gave Courfeyrac another poke with his cane. "You speak plainly."
Courfeyrac giggled, and batted at Joly. Bossuet rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
"Yes, aren't you pleased to have us?" he asked Samuel. "I give you my word of honour I shall keep us serious and sober during the revolution."
"As well as during meetings!" Courfeyrac called over.
"Certainly."
Samuel gave them a solemn-eyed look. "I'm glad to have you all. But I really must be going."
"Of course, of course," Courfeyrac said. "Meeting next?"
"To-morrow evening."
"Very well. Pleased to have met you," Joly smiled.
"And you."
"Au'voir, Enjolras!" Courfeyrac glowed for a moment, and then sprang away, catching sight of someone else he knew trailing away. Joly followed him, laughing. Bossuet stayed just long enough to give Samuel another friendly nod, and then he too was gone. Samuel blinked.
"They just vanish. When you say you don't want them, they go like dandelion seeds."
Combeferre smiled. "They do, don't they?"
"Combeferre--" Samuel caught his arm-- "I don't know what's happening. I keep falling back on Samuel when I'm alone. Now I'm frightened all the time that I'll do it in public, that I'll break down and lose everything. What's going on?"
"Hush. You're all right. You do beautifully. You do," Combeferre told him reassuringly. "You convinced me. You know that I want you to be Samuel; you know I think you should do this. But while you're doing it, you do it excellently." He looked rueful. "Don't worry about anything."
Samuel closed his eyes. "I should die without you."
"Oh... I doubt that."
On Monday, Samuel met Joly and Bossuet. Courfeyrac dragged Joly along, poking him and laughing the funny little good-humoured laugh that Courfeyrac always laughed. Bossuet followed with rather long steps. They came upon Samuel and Combeferre standing together, talking about something that had happened in class. Courfeyrac bounded over energetically, and grabbed Combeferre's sleeve.
"Mon ami, mon ami! My esteemed companions, Jerome Joly (whose parents must have enjoyed that exotic touch of alliteration) and Georges L'aigle, who we call Bossuet (you can see why)." He announced this proudly, as though he'd discovered the greatest treasure in the world in these two men. "These two splendid fellows wish to join us. Joly is in medicine," he added.
Joly gave Samuel a sweet grin, and ducked his head. He was a slightly plump, rather adorable-looking person with curly blond hair and glasses. They looked quite different from Combeferre's.
Bossuet, in turn, took Samuel's hand and shook it. He was tall and his arms and legs seemed too long, and Samuel was pleasantly surprised to find that he was the sort of person who didn't shake one's hand too weakly or too firmly, but instead in a just-right sort of way.
"Salut, Enjolras! Courfeyrac has told me your name."
"Quite so. Yes." Samuel smiled at him, already inclined to like him.
Courfeyrac only stood by, silent for once, beaming proudly over Joly and Bossuet.
Combeferre stepped forward. "Salut. I'm Combeferre." He smiled as well.
"Salut, salut, salut everyone!" Courfeyrac sprang back into action. "There are six of us now! Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Joly, Bossuet. In the order of our joining. That's progress, man!" he cried delightedly.
Joly prodded Courfeyrac with the knob of his cane. "You rascal." He turned to Samuel. "Courfeyrac has, you understand, outlined what we are, what we want, and what we're doing, but as he is Courfeyrac, I don't trust him an inch. If you'd be so good as to explain?"
Samuel drew himself up a little, unconsciously. "We are called Les Amis d'ABC."
"Abaisse?" asked Bossuet.
Samuel nodded. "Rather."
"It's a pun, isn't it?" said Joly happily.
"Yes. Yes, it is. At any rate, we're revolutionaries. Don't think otherwise. We shall have a revolution. We want liberty. Our motto is that of the Revolution. Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. You understand?"
"Quite. That's what Courfeyrac said, in essence, though he coloured it up a bit." Joly gave Courfeyrac another poke with his cane. "You speak plainly."
Courfeyrac giggled, and batted at Joly. Bossuet rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
"Yes, aren't you pleased to have us?" he asked Samuel. "I give you my word of honour I shall keep us serious and sober during the revolution."
"As well as during meetings!" Courfeyrac called over.
"Certainly."
Samuel gave them a solemn-eyed look. "I'm glad to have you all. But I really must be going."
"Of course, of course," Courfeyrac said. "Meeting next?"
"To-morrow evening."
"Very well. Pleased to have met you," Joly smiled.
"And you."
"Au'voir, Enjolras!" Courfeyrac glowed for a moment, and then sprang away, catching sight of someone else he knew trailing away. Joly followed him, laughing. Bossuet stayed just long enough to give Samuel another friendly nod, and then he too was gone. Samuel blinked.
"They just vanish. When you say you don't want them, they go like dandelion seeds."
Combeferre smiled. "They do, don't they?"
"Combeferre--" Samuel caught his arm-- "I don't know what's happening. I keep falling back on Samuel when I'm alone. Now I'm frightened all the time that I'll do it in public, that I'll break down and lose everything. What's going on?"
"Hush. You're all right. You do beautifully. You do," Combeferre told him reassuringly. "You convinced me. You know that I want you to be Samuel; you know I think you should do this. But while you're doing it, you do it excellently." He looked rueful. "Don't worry about anything."
Samuel closed his eyes. "I should die without you."
"Oh... I doubt that."
