#only vaguely les mis

[secretmellowblog]

It’s odd how lots of writers basically turn Inspector Javert into Claude Frollo?

In the original novel Javert is not obsessed with Jean Valjean. It is not his life’s goal to capture him. He is a police officer who is bad because he is a police officer; he’s bad because he’s just doing his job, and his job is to enforce cruel violent bigoted inhumane laws. He reunites with Jean Valjean by coincidence and just seems mildly annoyed by it. He doesn’t care at all about Jean Valjean any more than he would care about literally any other criminal in the world (until the barricades, which is the first moment when he does develop complicated emotions for him.) Javert isn’t bad because he is obsessed with Valjean— he is bad because he is a cop, and as a cop it is his duty to be mindlessly cruel. He is indifferent to Jean Valjean on a personal level. He is not obsessed, he’s an authoritarian.

But Frollo!

Frollo is a character who has a deep personal obsession with someone, pursues them relentlessly out of that personal obsession, and then uses the law as an tool to abuse them. Frollo is the one who makes it his life’s mission to capture some random person who did nothing wrong and use the full power of the law to torture them for his own gratification.

I kinda don’t understand why it’s so common for Les Mis adaptations and stuff to turn Javert into Frollo by making him ~personally obsessed with Valjean~ and ~making it his life goal to catch him.~ It severely undercuts the novel’s political message about the evils of the prison system, and also just makes Javert a far shallower and less compelling character. It makes him evil in a way that isn’t even interesting to read and has nothing very valuable to say.

#Les mis #bbc Les mis vague post #i feel like im a fandom old because I get so easily tired by ‘javert was obsessed with Valjean’ stuff XD #Because like! #because like Javert is Bad. but he’s bad in a really weird compelling way #and people always make him bad in a boring way #I do think Javert gets obsessed with Valjean #after the barricades #but it’s only after the barricades #I think people are so drawn to the really explosive vulnerability he has after the barricades #that they try to like . force it into all the scenes that happen beforehand #but like #the reason Derailed has the impact it does #is because it is such a massive contrast from the way Javert usually thinks and feels #anyway #me and my discord server get it 😂

[ofpd]

the fact that my cousins are in les mis and not giving me constant updates on everything going on always is so mean of them

#idk if theyre coming to the family rosh hashanah thing next weekend so idk if im even gonna see them before the show opens... #whatever it's ok. i'll just have to make an effort #txt #but thinking about this is reminding me of when i was talking to my grandma last week about it #im giving my family such a skewed perception of what les mis is abt bc ive only rly been telling them that its not ab the french revolution #and a vague sense of who eponine and cosette (my cousins' roles) are #but i just keep trying to explain how insane (in a good way) of a casting choice it is to have them be sisters #which like. doesn't actually explain the plot

[tick-tick-moo]

Cows, in your multitudes

Couldn't be cuter, filling the darkness

With mooing and lightttt! You are the sentinels, mooing and moving

Keeping watch in the nighttttt

#I just found this in my drafts #and I only vaguely remember making it while listening to #you guessed it #les mis #les miserables #Moo moos #peak lyric writing

[at-least-three-bears]

I want to do a version of Les Mis where everyone's songs are replaced with that Gavroche introduction.

Big "My name is BLANK and I'm here to say" energy, is what I'm going for

(LOOK DOWN orchestral intro swells then suddenly cuts out)

'OW DO YA DO, MY NAME'S JAVERT I'M A POLICEMAN, YOU'RE A THIEF YOU MAY NOW BE ON PAROLE BUT NO-ONE CAN CHANGE, THAT'S MY BELIEF

(immediate reply)

'OW DO YA DO, MY NAME'S VALJEAN I ONLY STOLE A LOAF OF BREAD PAY ATTENTION TO HOW I LIFT THE KNOWLEDGE WILL STAND YOU IN GOOD STEAD

and it would just go on like that for, like, 2 hours of shouty vaguely-cockney-accented exposition (granted, i feel like it'd be a bit unbearable by 2 minutes... but still)

#les mis #bad jokes #vague rambling

[crepes-suzette-373]

Germa and French references

(Plus bonus Star Wars mention at the end)

Sanji's iron mask in the flashbacks immediately made me think of Dumas's works, but when I saw it I didn't think much about it. It's just like, "Oh I guess it's just part of the Sanji = French thing". Plus in one of the cover arts Sanji was drawn in a classic Musketeer outfit, so I thought it was just for fun.

But Twitter user Marudoro-san made this thread that pointed out a bunch of the same references I'd caught and said "Hey, maybe this is actually important to the plot later", and I think they have a point. So I figured I'd share what I'd already noticed, and I will highlight the input that I got from Marudoro-san in red here in this post.

Iron Mask

The man in the iron mask is a French prisoner whose identity is never truly known in history. In his novel, Alexandre Dumas invented a plot where the iron masked prisoner is the twin brother of King Louis XIV, and the plot involves the famous Musketeers from the previous novels in a conspiracy of switching the king for the twin brother.

At a glance, it might be just a literary Easter egg, but when I look at it again, I do start to have questions. Within the One Piece scenario context, this is unnecessary. In the Dumas novel, the mask seems to be needed to hide the prisoner's identity. But there's no need to hide Sanji's identity, and it's not to prevent him from shouting for help because he can still talk even with the mask. What is it for? Is it a clue that the Man in the Iron Mask novel is relevant to this story?

For one, the fact that the iron masked prisoner being the king's twin is noteworthy. Sanji is one of 4 quadruplets, but still. Marudoro said that maybe this is a sign that Sanji and Ichiji will have a confrontation later. This makes sense, because of the other Vinsmokes, the one most likely to represent a "king" would be Ichiji.

This is something I myself had considered before, that Ichiji specifically might later have a role as "Sanji's opposite". I don't know how yet, but the imagery and themes that I've seen so far seems to point that way.

Marudoro also points out that if you look into the Musketeer novels, Sanji has vibes similar to Aramis, who is described as something of a womaniser. Aramis happens to be the mastermind behind the twin conspiracy in the Iron Mask novel.

The correlation is vague, and it's hard to tell how is this going to be relevant, besides maybe "there might be other French history/literature references in Germa's storyline".

Les Misérables, Revolution, the French Royalty

The only two Germa servants who actually has proper names, head chef Cosette and Sora's personal servant Eponi, seem to be references to the Les Misérables characters Cosette and Eponine. Part of the narrative of Les Mis is the June Rebellion, an uprising of the anti-monarchists.

In the Soul Pocus song that serves as the outro of the WCI arc, the "lyrics" specifically has the exact word "guillotine". For many people, guillotine is very closely linked to the image of the French Revolution and the execution of King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette.

Speaking of guillotine... Yonji's attack, translated as "Winch Guillotine" in the official translation, is actually called "Winch Danton" in the raw. This is possibly a reference to Georges Danton, and important figure of French Revolution, who is curiously executed by guillotine.

Sensei clearly knows the word guillotine, so why not just flat out call it "Winch Guillotine" like the translation?

For whatever it's worth, Danton was someone who was executed for opposing the new government after the first revolution. The revolutionaries got so bad that it was called the "Reign of Terror", so Danton turned against them and was trying to oppose this cruelty.

Yonji is rather visibly the least "bad" of the brothers and his reactions are almost like a "normal person" in a lot of ways, so maybe this is significant?

Marudoro-san said that the Nyasha/cat carriage the Vinsmokes were riding when they were about to meet Big Mum was incredibly similar to the funerary carriage of King Louis XVIII. While there are some differences, they do have a point.

Again, it's still unclear about what significance all of this stuff will have. Maybe the imagery of "revolution" and "King's funeral" indicate that Germa will be undergoing a lot of changes. Something that's beyond just the formation of Neo MADS.

The Knights Hospitaller... and Napoleon?

Marudoro-san says there's an interesting parallel between Germa and the Knights Hospitaller. This is a chivalric order that has privileges that puts them equal to a sovereign power. They have minimal land holdings, but has the standing almost on par with that of a nation. It's like the landless Germa, who is still recognised as a kingdom by WG up until their privileges were taken away after the mess in WCI.

The Knights has lost a lot of its power and territories in Europe through history, and finally, its headquarters in Malta was sacked by Napoleon. Marudoro-san highlighted that Big Mum's hat and sword was called Napoleon.

Marudoro-san took this analysis elsewhere, but for my part, I'm wondering if Germa almost being destroyed at WCI is a parallel of this attack of the Knights in Malta, with Big Mum being the parallel to Napoleon.

The possible proof of the Napoleon parallel is Law. Law was heavily instrumental in Big Mum's defeat in Wano, and his name are connected to events related to Napoleon's downfall.

Napoleon suffered a major defeat at the Battle of Trafalgar, and the man who was his jailer to the point of his death was a surgeon's son named Hudson Lowe. Law and Lowe looks different in English, but in Japanese both are spelled the same: ロー.

[Edit: Napoleon was also famously defeated in the Battle of Waterloo. In Japanese, Waterloo is spelled like this: ワーテルロー. It contains the same "ロー" as in Law's name.]

Marudoro-san said that Napoleon's invasion of Malta involved tricking the Knights to letting him dock under false pretences. I don't know how true this is, but at the very least this is a narrative that is accessible to the Japanese. One could argue that this is parallel to the conspiracy in Whole Cake.

If this parallel is really correct, then, this could be a hint of "Good Germa".

The Knights Hospitaller surrendered and survived that Napoleon encounter, with its status being even more diminished. Eventually it restructured as the Sovereign Military Order of Malta, which still has its sovereign authorities (Wikipedia says they can even issue passports and currency), but is now an organisation whose activities are focused on charity.

Bonus: The Jedi and Clone Wars?? (Star Wars)

Marudoro-san also mentioned that the 66 of Germa reminds them of Order 66 from Star Wars, which ended the Jedi order and enabled the Sith to rise to power.

I only understand Star Wars very minimally myself, but a fan I talked to on Twitter confirmed to me that they think so as well. Especially because there's the specific focus on Germa soldiers being clones, and it's reminiscent of the whole clone plotline in Star Wars.

Order 66 ended the Jedi. The 66 of Germa is in reference to the destruction of the old Germa Empire.

If this parallel is true, then this might confirm the theory that "Germa is not actually evil before". If we read that the "Sith" is World Government, and the old Germa is "Jedi", then maybe it's hinting that all the story about them being evil in the past is a lie? They may be awful now because Judge is so driven by revenge, but maybe they were actually not evil before.

#one piece #vinsmoke family #germa 66 #conspiracy theory #analysis #theory #literary reference

[fruity-pontmercy]

Les Mis adaptations and apolitical appropriation

I think it's no secret on this blog that I love the original Les Mis 1980 concept album in French, and that I also love comparing different versions of the stage musical. I've noticed that Les Mis seems to get progressively more vaguely apolitical as time goes on, not only in the way it's viewed in our culture, but in the actual text as well.

It's natural for specifics to be lost in adaptation. It's easier to get people to care about 'the people vs. the king' in a relatively short musical rather than actually facing the audience with the absolute mess that were 19th century french politics (monarchist orleanists vs monarchist legitimists vs imperialist vs bonapartist democrats vs every flavour of republican imaginable). Still, I feel that as time goes on, as more revivals and adaptations of the stage musical come out, the more watered down its politics become. Like, Les Mis at it's core is just meant to be a fancily written, drawn out political essay, right?

In a way I feel that the 1980 concept album almost tried to modernise it with its symbols of progress. Yes, through Enjolras' infamous disco segment (and other similar allusions to the ideals of social change), but perhaps most interestingly to me, through one short line that threw me off when I first heard it, because it seems so insignificant, but might actually be the most explicitly leftist line of all of Les Mis.

"Son coeur vibrait à gauche et il le proclama" (roughly "His heart beat to the left and he proclaimed it" i.e: he was a leftist) Feuilly says, while speaking of the now dead général Lamarque in Les Amis de L'ABC.

What's that? An actual mention of leftism??? in MY vaguely progressive yet apolitical musical??? More seriously, this mention of leftism, clashing with the rest of the musical due to it's seeming anachronism, is interesting not because it's actually more political than anything else in Les Mis, rather, because it's not scared to explicitly name what it's trying to do.

But we've come a long way from the Concept Album days, it's been 43 years, and Les Misérables is now one of the most famous and beloved musicals in the entire world. It's been revived and reimagined and adapted in a million ways, in different mediums, in different languages and countries, and it's clear that it's changed along with it's audience.

On top of pointing out a cool line in my favourite version of the musical, I wanted to write this post to reflect on the perception of the political message of this work. We as a Les Mis fandom on Tumblr are very political, I don't need to tell you that, however, I feel that because this very left leaning space has sprung out of a work we all love so much, we oftentimes forget to revisit it from a more objective point of view.

Les Misérables has a history of being misrepresented, this has been true since it's publication, since american confederate soldiers became entranced with their censored translation Lee's Miserables. However, with it's musical adaptation, this misinterpretation has been made not only more accessible but also easier. As much as I love musical theatre and I think it is at it's best an incredible art form able to communicate complex themes visulally by the masses for the masses, I think it'd be idealistic to ignore the fact that the people who can afford to go see musicals regularly are, usually, not the common folk. Broadway and the West End are industries which, like most, need money to keep them afloat, and are loved people of all political backgrounds (and unfortunately, often older conservatives) not just communists on tumblr. We've seen the way Les Miz UK's social media team constantly misses the mark regarding different social issues, and the way Cameron Makintosh has used the musical to propagate his transphobia, and most of us can agree that these actions are in complete antithesis with the message of Les Misérables as a novel.

But I must ask, how does Les Mis ,as a West End musical in it's current form, actually drive a leftist message, and how are we as a community helping if every time someone relating to the musical messes up if we just claim they "don't get it"?

I'm thinking in particular of incidents like last october, where Just Stop Oil crashed Les Mis at the West End. Whether you think it's good activism or not is not the question I think, this instance is interesting particularly because it shows that, outside of Les Misérables analysis circles and fandom spaces, it is not recognised as an inherently leftist, political or activist work, and instead of just saying they completely missed the point of the musical, I think it'd be interesting to take a step back and look at what the musical as it stands actually represents in our culture today.

I don't pretend to have all the answers, so I won't try to give one, but I do hope we can reflect on this a bit.

#this is my first time making a well thought out les Mis post in possibly like 2 years PLEASSEEE BE NICE #wrote this instead of listening to my Marxist Philosophy lecture so i hope it technically counts as productive procrastination #Btw in this i use Les Mis when reffering to the musical and Les Misérables when talking about the book (and Les Miz talking about the #west end musical so) #les mis #les miserables #les miz #les amis de l'abc #the brick #musical theatre #enjolras #litblr #meta analysis #media analysis

[nickyroethemarinebiologist]

Hello this is my presentation on what animals Les Mis characters would be except I'm only 500ish pages into the book so it's very short list at the moment

I decided almost IMMEDIATELY that Valjean would be some sort of owl, despite what I believe is the most popular interpretation being him as a lion. I was thinking of that one chapter in the book where he's referred to as an owl (the one called 'a nest for owl and wren' I think??) and decided yes absolutely that is 100% it. So then my first thought was a snowy owl, since they're pretty fucking big and also white (I'm not too bothered for hair colours and what have you in the rest of these but for Valjean it seemed pretty important) but the snowy owl look just wasn't doing it for me!! (something about their look was a little too intense, I guess??) And then! I remembered the barn owl (which is, by the way, probably my favourite owl). And yeah I might be a little biased towards them but they have a sort of gentle look while still being, y'know, owls (notoriously pretty dangerous predators). And of course, owls are nocturnal.

Also, just look at them!! The vibe is perfect, I'm certain of it.

(And!! While most barn owls have that light brown colouring, there have been white ones!! So the hair colour problem is all good)

Javert was a LOT more trouble (which I wasn't anticipating, after the easy pick for Valjean). He HAD to be some sort of wolf/dog-adjacent animal, that was the one and only condition (though I did briefly consider a horse. Just because he has a horse in both the 2018 BBC series and the 2012 movie??). A hyena was my first immediate pick (yeenvert <3) but it wasn't QUITE there and I was struggling desperately for some other idea. AND THEN! I decided, if no horse, why not a vaguely horse-shaped dog? Which led to a short list of hounds (scottish deerhound, irish wolfhound, ibizan hound) which I sort of juggled in my mind for a bit before finally deciding I kind of liked the scruffy deerhound vibe. They're very sweet dogs, as far as I know, so in that respect maybe not so accurate, but they definitely have the capacity to be foreboding in the same way most hounds have. They're also pretty tall!

(And yes I KNOW I said I wasn't fussed for colours but the grey on these guys is actually perfect for my mental image of Javert so! It's a happy accident!)

I knew pretty immediately that the bishop would be some sort of rooster. I have absolutely no reason for this other than the vibe was too perfect to ignore (though I think I might have been inspired by some gif of the bishop an old Les Mis movie where there were chickens in the background). So then I went on Wikipedia and ran through a list of roosters until I found this magnificent little beast, a faverolles rooster. I found on my not-so-extensive research journey that these guys are super gentle and apparently very hilarious, which, yeah, that's absolutely him <3

The bishop's sister (Mademoiselle Baptistine?) also gets a chicken. Because yeah they're related but also I just think it really fits her. Or maybe I'm biased, idk, I do really love chickens. I don't really have much to say about her which I am so so sorry for because I do really like her!! But she's a swedish flower hen

And Madame Magloire was going to be a chicken (before I gave that to the bishop's sister instead) but I later landed on some sort of donkey. Again, I haven't got much reason for this but the vibe is there!! I promise you!! I switched between a bunch of different donkey breeds (all of which I had never heard of before but I absolutely love, by the way. Go check out a provence donkey) and then i found the bourbonnais donkey, which is just perfect to me. If I have ever been certain of anything it's this.

(There's a disappointing amount of donkey photos on the internet. Where are they all!!)

I was going to save Fauchelevent for a different post but i really like him so he's here too. I was pretty sold on him as a sheep at first, and I very nearly left it at that but then!! I learned of a cashmere goat, which was not only a lot closer to how I imagine him but also they look cool as hell!! So I thought, okay, that was easy, but something still wasn't sitting quite right. The goat idea was absolutely perfect, but the cashmere goat was too far in the direction away from the sheep idea (which I'm still very attached to). So instead I went for an angora goat! Which apparently do something pretty close to gardening for a goat (eating/destroying nuisance plants and improving pastures) so it was almost too perfect to pass up. Also their horns are pretty awesome

(It's very funny to me personally that Valjean is an owl while Fauchelevent is a goat. Yes, we are brothers, the bird and the goat. Makes perfect sense)

I was going to give Cosette one in this post too but I'm not 100% sure of hers yet!! So she'll have to wait. I apologise deeply.

#IM SO SORRY FANTINE ISNT HERE ALSO I HAVE ZERO IDEAS FOR HER!! #however i am very happy with these #barn owl valjean my beloved <3 #les miserables

[autumngracy]

Hi, just a random question from a fan of AROS (for which I have no coherent words to decribe my admiration)- I'm sure you've been asked this a million times already, but I'm quite new to this fandom, so forgive me and feel free to ignore the question, of course- who did you base your Javert on, appearance-wise?

Actually I don't think anyone directly asked this before!

To be honest I didn't actually base him on anything or anyone in particular ... I think the reason for this is because I read the brick before ever seeing any adaptations of Les Mis, so the first Javert I pictured was just my own interpretation of him from the brick ...

And what's funny is I can't remember if I originally pictured him with short hair or long hair. I read the 1938 Heritage Press edition of the brick, which is the Wraxall translation + about 1500 Lynd Ward illustrations, and in those illustrations he has short hair. But, oddly, I didn't remember it as being short in those illustrations? I had to go back and look years layer to confirm. (Alas, my beautiful Heritage Press copy is lost somewhere now!)

So I don't know if the long hair thing was me originally picturing it that way despite the illustrations being otherwise (possibly because the illustrative style made it somewhat vague at first?), or if it was from me later getting brainrot from looking at all the post Terrance Mann Javert designs ...

Best I can say about the hair issue is, well ... I just really happen to like male characters with long hair ... idk why lol. I have a lot of male OCs with long hair and every time I make one, part of my brain goes "Another one? For real? Do we not have enough of these little bitches already? If you don't stop putting long hair on all these characters people are gonna start to think you have some kind of kink."

Which. Well. I'm actually asexual so idk lol I think it's just an aesthetic preference

ANYWAY

For his wardrobe, that's just the brick descriptions plus factual research into 1830's era menswear. The only anachronistic element of his appearance really is his hair, but I do get around that by pointing out that he could have simply picked the (older and naval oriented) style up while he was at the Bagne (which did in fact have a dress mandate for keeping long hair tied up, suggesting it was a common enough hairstyle among the guards) and just never dropped it even after it became unfashionable—because A) he doesn't seem to give two shits about being fashionable, B) keeping short hair means either spending money to keep it short or having an intimate enough relationship with someone that they will do it for you free—neither of which I can see him wanting to do—and also C) he appears to be a creature of habit, so keeping the same, easily self-maintained hairstyle over the years fits my understanding of him.

Also, I'm not even exaggerating his tools of the trade because there really is a line in the brick about him having some kind of sword, which I had to go back and reread several times because it surprised even me (but it's 3am and I'm too assed to look it up rn). And we already know he has 2 pistols and a bludgeon (which the brick says he holds tucked up invisibly in his sleeve, Assassin's Creed style, lmao).

On another subject—

Given his stiff and distanced way of interacting with the world, questionable of social skills (see him bluescreening when Fantine is pleading with him in the mairie by way of what may be thinly veiled sexual advances), as well as his black and white thinking, penchant for being distracted by his thoughts to the point of complete obliviouness, propensity to either give extremely short responses or to go into ranting monologues, with little in between—plus the idea that he hates reading but makes himself do it for self improvement reasons, and how he seems to start stimming when lost in thought—I could definitely see him possibly being Autistic or having ADHD.

Now then, about his race ...

I know originally I actually pictured him differently than the Javert I wrote for my fic—as more white, at least—the way he appeared in the Lynd Ward until I read people discussing how he was probably supposed to be part Romani. And when it came to me having to pick conclusive character designs for my fic, I thought it would be much more interesting if it was a Javert who was visibly Romani instead of white passing, which he seems to be in most everything that bothers to mention his background.

I do find it weird that he's seemingly been played by nothing but white guys except for Norm Lewis and David Oyelowo (that I can find). So there's never really been a Romani Javert in stage or screen adaptations ... However, there's still a decent amount of fanart that shows him as darker skinned/Romani, so at least there's that.

Anyway I find that a visibly non white Javert just adds a lot more nuance and depth to his character, even compared to a still Romani but white passing version of him. Because then it changes how he interacts with and views the world (and vice versa), and it changes or adds to his motivations for doing what he does. It brings his (very canon!) struggle with internal racism to the forefront, which a lot of adaptations downplay or completely ignore.

I think part of why this appeals to me is that in modern times we are very used to the idea of the shitty oppressive white cop who is approaching everything from a position of absolute privilege and authority (which is a very shallow and uninteresting archetype, character-wise) ... and brick canon Javert, regardless of whether or not he is white passing, is not coming from a position of privilege—and not just because he is poor. He is coming from a position of social insecurity and vulnerability, which (at least it seems to me) he is trying desperately to escape/overcome.

And this makes his motivations for choosing his specific job far more interesting than "shitty white cop that enforces the status quo because he gets off on exerting power over other people". It suggests a sort of willful mental dissonance and denial that also make a lot of sense in hindsight when we consider the effects of his derailment.

The idea of him snapping and realizing for the first time that most everything he was doing was morally corrupt (or at least highly questionable) is one thing (and a level of obliviousness/ignorance that is somewhat hard to believe, imo) ...

But the idea that he knew how morally reprehensible his actions were all along, and was repressing it on purpose? To gain the only foothold he could see on the ladder of a world he was born on the lowest rung of? And after decades, is forced by external factors to finally, finally look his decisions in the eye and confront himself about them?

Well, shit. That hits a lot harder, doesn't it?

And it certainly hits him pretty hard. Obviously (as I pointed out in the the fic) he did mentally store away notes of things he found morally questionable about/during his career over the years—he just didn't let himself act on them. But it implies he was aware of the injustices, even if he only relegated that awareness to his subconscious.

The brick talks about how he felt he existed outside of society and had only two choices in life—black and white thinking; criminal vs protector, etc.—and it spells out how this is pretty much the direct result of his internalized rascism—so, I mean ... I don't think it's unlikely that canon Javert knew from the beginning that he was sacrificing his his heritage, culture, and moral compass in pursuit of respect and recognition from society (and thereby, social safety).

And in a Post-Seine world, he's forced to reconcile with all of that.

I may have just spoiled a major upcoming plot point for AROS tbh but oh well I was dropping breadcrumbs of foreshadowing about it the entire goddamn time lmao

#A Reflection of Starlight #AROS #Les Mis #Les Misérables #Javert #Tell me why I just spent 2 hours writing an essay in response to a *checks notes* single sentence ask

[alicedrawslesmis]

Today's chapter really is like... Excuse me she's literally dying over there can you two please have some decency and figure your shit out outside.

But jokes aside, we have here two motifs that keep repeating themselves, an echo of the Conventionist, of words and reactions spoken between life and death, and this theme of Divine authority versus mundane authority. Fantine is the conventionist and Valjean is the bishop come to bless her but being the one who is blessed

And since Javert instinctively obeys the highest authority in the room because he's literally a dog (and at this point they thought this was how dogs worked) he obeys Valjean's divine mandate. Tho also he had an iron bar with him, you get my point.

It's very interesting how Javert's loyalties change because he doesn't think for himself and only reacts to outside forces. This character is fascinating as like an idea. I've seen this idea play out in Stefan Zweig's The Royal Game but it isn't the only time I've seen it, it's also a repeated theme is the Star Trek original series, to name a couple examples.

It's also something that ties into orientalism (I've been reading Edward Said shh) and like this contrast of the learned enlightened Western man versus the base, thoughtless, purely instinctual and reactive Oriental. And the oriental of course is not a set thing but a vague definition that can change meanings depending on context. For Stefan Zweig this man is represented by an eastern european peasant contrasted to an intellectual austrian royalist. The entire novella is about the futile battle between the two extremes, the internal journey and the purely external. In Star Trek the contrast is between a being of pure unfeeling logic, a computer, and its inherent inferiority to a man according to Roddenberry's point of view. The computer always loses to the greatness of man's empathy and instinct. It's also like, wish fulfillment. To try to make yourself believe you can't be replaced by a computer.

Anyway this was a bit of a tangent because I have some thoughts about Star Trek's orientalism re: Spock. But also because Hugo looooooves an illuminism VS barbarism contrast and he loooooves orientalism. And I argue that Les Mis is actually a turning point for him. Because if you read Toilers of the Sea what you get is actually a kind of reversal or culmination of his ideas on the grotesque and the barbarian. Maybe because he left France and actually saw that there are other people in the world with different worldviews and he was able to grasp them because they were still European

edit: Edward Said talks a lot about Victor Hugo, Flaubert and Nerval in Orientalism btw and an attentive reader can very clearly see the aspects of orientalism that stil permeate Les Mis even when he isn't even talking about the orient itself. The orient presents itself as a dramatic trope or a creation of the ""West"" for their dramas... Good book btw

[alenaphale]

so guys a little while ago i came up with a les mis artistic au that I think would be interesting for you to acknowledge! so basically the idea of it is this:

everything takes place in modern france. les amis + cosette + eponine (basically the youngsters mentioned in the second volume (maybe even montparnasse)) are studying in the académie des beaux-arts on two different faculties, visual arts and music. i am yet to figure out who studies what, but some things are already obvious to me, so I would like to share some of them with you

• first of all the dean of the faculty of visual arts is valjean, the dean of the one of music — javert. their approaches to what is art and how one should give a proper education on it are quite different — opposite, even, because where valjean strives for freedom in self-expression and his students’ own unique understanding, javert is equally devoted to precision (which is, for every performer who I have a misfortune to be myself, is as beneficial as it is painful, sometimes even destructive to the very purpose of performing music)

of course it would be silly to expect such a confrontation would not affect their students.

• so, very vaguely: enjolras, combeferre, courfeyrac (because i couldn’t force myself to separate the great trio of The leader, The guide and The centre™), jehan, marius and cosette are all in the orchestra.

- enjolras is a conductor, of course

- combeferre is the first violin. sometimes when enjolras by some miracle is not present at the rehearsal, he fulfills his duties — and, believe me, his tolerating attitude really is a blessing to the musicians

- courfeyrac is either a timpanist or a pianist-accompaniator (both options make perfect sense in my mind and I cannot decide)

- jehan is a harpist (feel free to make your own suggestions, but I tried to express his passion for middle ages, romantism and his poetical nature with this choice)

- marius is a violinist because I thought it would be hilarious for him to play soppy melodies whenever he’s pining on cosette

- cosette herself is a cellist. at first, i was going to make her an opera singer (soprano), then i was contemplating on her being a violinist as well, but then I thought — goddamn it, i love women who play cello, and it would reflect her character so well (which i of course am planning to develop a bit from what monsieur hugo provided us with), and I just don’t want to see her as something high-pitched! the solemn and a bit sorrowful, yet so noble and beautiful timbre of cello seems to suit her image in my mind.

• as for the artists, here we have OBVIOUSLY my man grantaire, eponine, joly + bossuet, feuilly and bahorel. most of them are painters, with few exceptions: for example, joly is a sculptor in my mind, and feuilly does decorative art (also I am sorry he is also a student here and joly is not a medic it is all only for the sake of the composition)

i don’t want to make this post too long so I shall continue in the next ones! i hope this idea is entertaining enough for you my fellow readers. also i think it is pretty obvious that i have little to no knowledge at all about visual arts so please be free to comment your own thoughts

(also i am new to the fandom (although I’ve been into les mis for quite some time now) and I would really appreciate any sort of communication) :)

#les mis #les mis au #les amis de l'abc #les miserables #i don’t know what tags to use #les mis fandom #i just want to make friends #and also i am a musician who is non-practising at the moment so yes i am overcompensating

[alias-milamber]

Today I completed a Blades in the Dark campaign

Lessons learned:

Blades in the Dark isn't great for a short story-focused campaign

BitD works well for a single-session or a long campaign with the territory/growth rules it defines, less well for short campaigns

Even when I think I'm making a short campaign, it might last a year.

Full improvisation is fun, but if you don't take notes you'll goozle yourself.

"Your Theorycrafting about the nature of the plot is entirely correct" is a vicious Devil's Bargain

As is "I'm not going to tell you, but it gets you two dice"

Write a vague prophetic dream, and use the details later to make them pay attention when you need to.

You can build an entire year long arc on the stupid pun "the bad guy is called Carson. He wants to turn everyone into crabs"

"He wants the whole world in his claws, the shellfish bastard"

A shop full of monkeys-paw magical artifacts that you improvise on the fly is like catnip to players.

Keep a list of random threads you haven't looped back to. Don't bother to check them off, things can mean two things.

If in doubt, add more cultists.

If in doubt, venetian masks.

If in doubt, add an NPC's mirror-verse twin.

"Everyone gets nightmares about being shelled and covered in Mary-rose sauce."

Three handouts:

A Dream Of Seafood

(after a player has eaten of the sacred flesh, disguised as a prawn vol-au-vent)

The world is cold and wet, and you like it that way. The sandy floor below you, the stars above, as it has always been and will always be. In the distance you hear the song of the leviathans, cutting through the ocean water like bagpipes over a mountain hillside. The words mean nothing to you, their song as alien as yours would be to them.

You do not sing your song, sound isn't what you're made for. You are, you see, you feed, you eat.

You obey.

The sandy floor rises up below you in ribbons - you never even process the net that has caught you. Your life flashes before your eyes, hits this moment, and goes beyond into the future.

You see the world above the ocean briefly, before darkness. The smell of wood and others for a long time, and a long descent into clean water. The water scalds and burns, and the life life leaves you, without your presence going with it.

You haunt the flesh of yourself as your shell is peeled back from you. A bath of pink sauce and a bed of puff pastry. Music, and strange people.

A mouth, and darkness.

And despair.

A Dream Of Shellfishness

(The first character to atune to a sacred artifact)

Within your dream you awake. You are underwater, and this seems oppressive and terrifying until you realise that you're breathing the water without difficulty, and then it just seems oppressive and differently terrifying. You breathe in brine, it fills your lungs and then you breathe out again, and beyond your initial panic, a deeper worry sets in.

You are surrounded by stars, refracted by a perfectly clear sea. Above and below you, constellations unrecognised, twinkling gently in the pitch black night. A moving black patch above you can only be a leviathan, its gigantic form gliding through the pitch black sea like a bird of prey. Behind it, the keel of a hunting ship disrupts the surface with its infernal motorised screw engine spinning to try to keep up, but the monstrous creature swims away with no apparent concern. Around you is a barnacle encrusted cage, glowing runes engraved on a wooden frame that you somehow know cannot be broken, even by you.

That's no mean feat, you discover, as a sense of scale kicks in and your perspective shifts. You realise that you could hold that leviathan in the palm of your hand, should you be able to break the cage that surrounds you. You beat against the bars soundlessly, unheard and imperceptable.

A voice, a sound like the antithesis of music, and you see one of the glowing runes go dark on your prison.

Vengeance will be won.

The Crab God's Shanty

(To the tune of the work song from Les Mis)

We sit, we row. Fourty fathoms low. We sail, wind blow, Forty Fathoms Low.

We load cargo, Forty fathoms low, We lift, we stow, Forty fathoms low

The stars, they glow, Forty fathoms low, The tide will flow, Forty fathoms low.

The deep, plateau, Forty fathoms low We see, he know Forty fathoms low.

The undertow, Forty fathoms low, Will make us go, Forty fathoms low

He speaks, bestow, Forty fathoms low, We feed, he grows, Forty fathoms low.

Our life, forgo, Forty fathoms low, The world will know, Thirty fathoms low.

Give up, let go, Twenty fathoms low, He rise shadow, Now ten fathoms low.

He rises slow, Just five fathoms low, Yo ho, heave ho. Claws at your ship bow.

#blades in the dark #ghostlit detour

[prettyboypistol]

Across Enemy Lines || TF2 Sniper/Spy 18+

[BDSM] [D/S relationship] [Powerbottom Spy/Needy Top Sniper] [Cigarette Play] [Pain Play] [brief knife play]

Sniper’s hands shook as he reached towards the door handle. He knew it was unlocked. Spy said it would be, as long as he was quiet in the late hours of the night. Mick swallowed a building of nerves as he finally opened the door.

“I assume you were interested then?” Spy murmured from his chair, whiskey in one hand and a fancy cigarette worth more than Sniper’s camper in the other. Sniper felt his teeth grit inside his mouth as he tried to step inside the smoking room and not trip over himself when he heard Spy’s voice.

Sniper nodded as he felt the sweat bead at his brow.

“If I may ask, why? Of course, as the only other homosexual-adjacent man in this damn warzone, I assume there is a level of desperation.” Spy questioned, his expression seemed far more out of smug curiosity- as if he already knew the answer. “I know you’re allowed out of the base fairly often for jobs, so why risk something so close?”

“I need you.”

The quick answer caught Spy off guard, but the poise was quickly recovered. “Oh? Why me? Mundy, I have stabbed you multiple times. Are you some sort of sick masochist?” Spy knew the sly usage of Sniper’s last name was a mild threat against the man, but he had to gauge the reaction of his potential hatefuck of the night. Sniper bit the inside of his cheek and refused to answer, which told Spy more than what he needed to know.

When Sniper cleared his throat and shifted his weight, Spy stood up and approached his daytime enemy. He thanked whatever god above that Sniper had the decency to shower before he came over and he did not have to turn away such an opportunity due to grime and grit. It even smelled as if he put on some sort of cologne, even if the price was evident in the scent.

“At least you put in effort.” Spy shrugged as he looked Sniper up and down. Still in his uniform, there were points docked for that. Although, Spy had to admit that, if he had the chance to dress the scraggly man up, he would heavily consider a shade similar to that red. “Did you prepare yourself?”

“Uh- yeah. Yeah . I did.” Sniper managed to say as a blush creeped up his neck and blossomed over his cheeks. “Did everything you asked me to.”

Spy paused for a moment, then rolled his eyes and handed his cigarette to Sniper. “Jesus, this is a hookup, not an interrogation.” He assured as he walked back to his plush seat, with a vague gestured hand to the other chair to the opposite of the intable, Spy spoke up again. “Sit down! Relax a bit. I’m not going to stab you tonight.”

The shuffle to the other seat was downright pathetic, but not pathetic enough for Spy to shove Sniper out the door where he came from. Spy had to admit, it was rather cute to see such a stoic and quiet guy as nervous as that! An unheard mumble caught Spy’s attention.

“Oui? Qu'est-ce que tu as dit?” //Yes? What did you say?//

A moment of silence passed, then Sniper spoke, his voice low and hushed.

“J-J'ai dit que je le souhaitais… S'il te plaît?” //I said I wanted it… please?//

The response in mis-pronounced but textbook correct French was a surprise to Spy, but a welcome one.

“Now, where did you learn that from, hmm?” The tone Spy held was painfully amused and a tad too smug for Sniper’s liking.

Sniper coughed and looked the other way as he took a drag of the cigarette.

“Uh, picked it up here and there for odd jobs. ‘M not fluent or anything… I’d call myself academically passable, but I dunno a word you usually say.”

“So you don’t know colloquial French?”

“Nope.”

Spy stood up and took his cigarette from Sniper to take a hit, he noted how Sniper’s eyes followed his every move as he breathed, the cigarette delicately between his lips.

“Tragically for you, I’m not interested in knifeplay tonight, you ruffian. Even if it’s on you.”

“That’s fine, yeah.”

“Any other kinks I should know about, bushman?”

Sniper fell silent. In the quiet, he bit his lower lip and stared at the pristine carpeted floor.

“If you’re not going to talk then-”

“I like bein’ submissive.”

“That’s more like it.” Spy smiled, a foxly mischief in his expression. “Now mon beau, I’m sure you like more than just that. If you don’t tell me, I can just order you to.”

Sniper felt this chest flutter, much like a violin string. Tight and taut, Spy’s voice was the bow that made his core vibrate in the most jittering of ways. He was excited. He was flighty. He needed more.

“You’re a spy, why don’t’cha read me like a book?” Sniper sassed, his usual personality back in full force. The denial was enough to irk Spy into knocking the hat off Sniper’s head and to grab Sniper by the hair.

“You listen here you son of a bitch, you will give me respect in this room. I invite you out of the goodwill of my heart and you will not take that for granted, is that clear?”

The speed at which Sniper’s pupils blew wide churned deep in Spy’s chest. The Aussie tried to nod, but whimpered at the pain of Spy’s tight grip in the roots of his hair.

“Yea- Yes sir.” Sniper quickly corrected himself as his eyes frantically tried to drink in all of Spy. The indignant look of disgust, the perfect fabric that hugged Spy in a way that only good money could buy, the way Spy breathed that cigarette that cost more than Sniper’s life as if it were second nature. The huffs of his breath were ragged, low, and gently vibrating in Sniper’s throat.

“Now, I believe I asked you a question, boy.”

“I like bein’ tied up sir.”

“What else?”

“Bein’ talked down to. Pushed around. A bit of bullying, sir.”

“And a masochist too? Really, no wonder you came to me. At least you learn quickly.” Spy halfheartedly praised as he seemed unimpressed.

Spy released Sniper and laid down calmly on the bed. “If you can manage to keep yourself from wetting your pants from excitement, strip.”

The way Sniper stumbled and frantically tried to pop off his shoes and undo all the buttons of his shirt. His breath fluttered like a tight vibrato; light, quick, and dizzying. The scars piqued Spy’s interest briefly but his eyes quickly swam away to watch the smoke patterns as he exhaled. Although, the calm stillness of Spy and the sloshing rapid of Sniper was quite the duality.

“I didn’t say to keep the undergarments.”

“Sorry- uh, sir.”

Spy seemed pleased with how Sniper obeyed so quick. Yes, a bit of brat taming was fun, but not tonight. The swirling of arousal mixed itself in Spy’s body as Sniper stood in front of Spy, already well over half-mast.

“Sir, can I?” Sniper asked, his tone a beg as he looked at Spy like a starving man. “Please?”

“Come along now, bring the condom too.”

Sniper approached the bed as if he was a sinner on holy ground. Reverently, he moved to sit upon the side of the bed and awaited further instruction.

“Take off my shoes and undo my pants, if you can resist the temptation.” Spy ordered flippantly as he took another breath from his cigarette.The dripping of building lust was far from intoxicating to Spy, but as he watched his favorite daytime enemy delicately undo the laced shoes with more grace than he had ever seen Sniper portray, Spy couldn’t help but allow himself to feel whirls of pride and egotism.

“What do you want, mon beau?”

“Whatever you want to give me.”

“Tell me.”

“Hurt me. Please.”

A slap rang out when Spy struck Sniper’s cheek, leather hit soft skin. The gasping shudder that Sniper breathed out as the pain bubbled up from the initial hit rippled through his body as Spy repeated the gesture on the opposite cheek.

Spy leaned closer to Sniper and bit into his shoulder, once, twice-! Sniper let out a small whimper of pain as Spy sucked a hickey into him.

“Say ‘June’ if I go too far.” Spy mumbled into Sniper’s ear, clearly and honestly.

“Right, gotcha.” Sniper responded, his needy air dissipated momentarily to assure to Spy that he was in a right state of mind.

As Spy pulled back, he adjusted the aviators on Sniper’s face, an unamused expression fell to him. “Ah, did you forget these?”

“Sorry sir, lemme-”

“No no, keep them.”

The seconds of slow movements felt like hours to the flutteringly impatient Sniper. His heart raced a million miles an hour, his breath was desperate to give his body enough oxygen to function. The thrumming need of ecstasy of merely being treated in such a way played Sniper, and with Spy behind the bow, Sniper knew Spy would play him like a violin too.

“What?” Spy hummed after he barely caught what Sniper said. “Really now, we need to work on that mumbling problem of yours.” He said before he struck Sniper’s face again. “Speak properly.”

“Please hurt me more, sir.”

Spy rolled his eyes. “Isn’t this enough, you masochist? Getting your face beaten, naked in front of your enemy?”

Sniper shivered in pleasure.

“God, you like being talked down to, I forgot. I could ignore you right now and you could get off, couldn’t you?” Spy cooed, no trace of affection in his eyes. Sniper bit his lower lip, with every word Sniper’s erection seemed more and more interested. “Fucking pathetic.”

“Sir please-”

“You are in no position to be asking anything of me, needy whore.”

Spy grabbed his butterfly knife from the nightstand and pressed the blade against Sniper’s neck, the pressure agonizingly not enough. “Would you get off to this too, bushman? Who am I kidding, you would stain my suit if I pressed any harder.”

“Yes sir, I’m sorry sir.” Sniper whimpered. Spy retracted the knife with his usual flair before the knife was placed back on the nightstand.

“Put the condom on, I already did the preparation. I don’t know where your hands have been.” Spy ordered, to which Sniper hurriedly obeyed.

Sniper opened up the condom swiftly, eager to please. God, that smug smile on Spy’s face made Sniper’s blood boil usually. Tonight though, the smile was a promise, a whispering of sadistic pleasure that Sniper could find nowhere else. Sniper’s cock ached, begging in its own right to have any sort of friction. Upon Spy’s denial, Sniper frowned as he was forced to wait slowly.

“Oh, another thing. If you get soft or cum, I’ll kick you out immediately.” Spy threatened as he sucked the smoke into his lungs from his cigarette. A moment passed, where Sniper’s eyes met Spy’s.

Then Spy exhaled. Right in Sniper’s face.

Sniper bit his lip and whimpered. The smoke even smelled fancy, goddamnit. Sniper breathed the smoke in, his pupils were blown in maddening lust.

“Oh god, how’d you know?”

“You seemed the type. Now go on, try your best.”

Sniper took no haste to push into Spy in one held breath, he breathed out a low, long “fuuuuck.” as he felt the warm tightness around him. It took everything within Spy not to react. Sniper wanted to be humiliated, so he had to play the part, cock shoved in him be damned.

“You know, you can put more than the tip in. You might be a patient man, but I’m not.” Spy spat as he feigned more interest in his smoke than Sniper.

“It’s… It’s all the way in.” Sniper whispered.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Spy could absolutely tell. Sniper was a decent size and certainly abused the fact that he prepared himself liberally with how tight Spy was stretched. With a twitch that nearly made him gasp as he berated Sniper, Spy rolled his eyes as he tried his hardest to ignore the swirling pleasure that sang like a siren to indulge in like an irresistible wine.

A shaky breath passed before Sniper started to move. God, Spy was tight. Little movements of Sniper, his hips flush against Spy’s thighs nearly broke the already delicate facade Spy held. Nevertheless, the mask stayed on, cold and disinterested as Sniper started to move, biting his lip to muffle the noises of embarrassment. The thrusts soon turned erratic, chasing the high of lust as Sniper groaned and growled as his dick was more than lavished in spoiled pleasure.

“Spy- I-”

A harsh slap to Sniper’s cheek reminded him of Spy’s position over the desperate man.

“Sir, please- I-”

“What could you possibly want, whore?”

Sniper bit his lower lip and screwed his eyes shut, nodding in agreement. A silent beg.

“Cheap, pathetic slut.” Spy purred as he puffed on his cigarette, the ash flaking onto the mattress in specks as Sniper’s thrusts jostled Spy. “How much of a whore do you have to be to come crawling to the enemy team, hmm? Did nobody want to fuck the piss-stained bushman over in RED?”

“Oh god. ”

“What other disgusting kinks do you hide behind that bullshit professionalism? Go on.” Spy demanded, his voice quivering slightly as Sniper brushed against his prostate just right. “Just know that if you say piss I will stab you.”

“No- don’t gotta piss kink-” Sniper stumbled out. “I’ve got a thing for- for suits, sir. I like smellin’ things too.”

Sniper was unceremoniously shoved into Spy’s shoulder, the order was clear enough as Sniper breathed the smell of too-expensive cologne and whiskey. The cigarette smell was a given, but the hints of quality mixed in with the tobacco made Sniper whimper as he used the new position to thrust deeper into Spy.

“Needy whore, I should put you on display, show everyone just how unfit you are to be a mercenary. You already are messy and dirty, imagine how fast you’ll be exposed for fraternizing with the enemy, begging him to demean you no less. Filthy fucking pervert.”

“Sir- I’m not gonna-” Sniper begged as he let his hips shake in uncontrollable desire. “Can I? I wanna ask something.”

“Oh? And what do you want?”

“C-can you put your cig out on the base? God, I’m not gonna last long- please? Please sir, I know it’s fucked up but I wanna be burned by you.”

Spy hummed, thinking tentatively as Sniper haphazardly pumped his cock in and out of Spy, only to pull out, presenting himself to Spy with a breathy wheeze as he jacked himself off, one hand on the headboard above Spy’s head, the other working himself to the teetering edge.

“Please sir, please put your cig out on me.” Sniper whispered.

Who was Spy to not oblige?

The white hot feeling of pubic hair burning, skin screaming in pain, and nerves firing danger signals sent Sniper over the edge with a low growl. The cum that spilled over Spy’s suit stood out horribly well, the off-white glistening against the deep blue. Shaky breaths echoed around Spy’s room for moments that lasted far too long for the rogue’s liking.

“You got your pleasure, now get out of my room. I’m sure you don’t want security to find a RED in such a secure location.” Spy ordered as he hurriedly dabbed the semen stains with his handkerchief.

Sniper nodded with a quick and casual thanks, legs shaking more than they ever should for a grown man as he gathered his clothes to quickly dress and depart.

As soon as the door shut, Spy bit the inner side of his cheek and used the same cloth to jack himself off- god, he deserved an acting award for keeping himself together during that fuck! Sniper was brutal and needy- Spy had never felt more desired! Rocking his hips to the same erratic beats, Spy gasped as his semen mixed with Sniper’s.

Spy was definitely paying Sniper a visit later that week. He wanted to make that stupidly cramped van shake.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #fanfiction #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #bloody suit #sniper x spy #snipespy #tf2 smut #prettyboy pistol

[woso-fan13]

Even If You’re Little, You Can Do A Lot

“Oh yeah, I can do a pretty killer British accent,” you say, easily switching over mid-sentence. 

What was supposed to have been a movie night had turned into the team sharing random facts with each other. 

A look of shock spread through the room, Ash finally breaking the silence, “why are you actually good at that?” 

You cocked your head slightly in confusion, “I literally had to be? What are you talking about?”

The confusion spread to the others, Kelley asking, “you had to be able to do a convincing British accent? Were you forced to?” 

“Well, no, but it would be odd if I didn’t. I couldn’t be the only one without an accent, it would ruin everything.” 

“What are you talking about?” Kelley had grown frustrated at this point, the vague questions and answers leading to more confusion. 

“I needed it for the show” 

Several “what shows?” were shouted back. 

“Matilda. Y’all didn’t know they faked British accents? I hate to ruin the magic, but we didn’t really have the budget to ship all the cast in from England.”

Emily snorted, “what kind of fancy private school did you go to? My school did that stupid Dr. Seuss musical every year.”

“No, I didn’t even go to primary scho- did I not tell you guys? I was on Broadway for years as a kid, I just had a tutor backstage,” it wasn’t something you were embarrassed to share, it was just something that didn’t come up in conversation. 

A collective “what?!?” roared through the group. 

Alex took control of the group, shutting them all up. Pointing at you, she simply says, “you, explain, now.” 

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll start from Matilda, it was probably my biggest. I was 6 when I was cast, 7 when I started. I was there for a little over 3 years, but I eventually got a bit tired of it and it was really hard work. I was in Annie briefly before that, only about a year. I don’t remember that too well, I was really young. The only thing I really remember is that I wasn’t old enough to be Annie, I had to be the little kid. Molly, I think. I was 5 then, I was working on my 6th birthday.”

“Annie was my first show, I did mainly commercials and things like that before. And- you can never tell a living soul- but I did beauty pageants when I was a toddler. I actually won a lot of awards.”

“And what else have I done? After Matilda I was in Les Mis for awhile, that one was really cool. It was a huge change from what I was doing previously, but everyone was awesome there. Obviously, I’ve done the classic Tiny Tim role around Christmas. All the practice on the crutches helped playing soccer though. I think that’s it for musicals, but I might be missing something.”

“I was in a couple movies and shows too, but I loved performing on a stage more. It’s like when you’re out on the pitch: everyone’s eyes are on you, waiting for you to mess up. And the whole group is out there together, but if you mess it up, you mess it up for everyone. I’ve thrived with pressure, ever since I was young.” 

Silence fills the room, everyone processing what you had said. They knew from karaoke on the bus and hearing you sing in the shower that you were good, but they didn’t know you were that good. And seeing you laugh and tumble over your feet while trying to walk backwards never indicated to them that you were an incredible dancer. They knew you grew up in New York City- they had seen pictures of a tiny you exposed to all the city had to offer- but they never realized how intense your childhood must have been. 

“Wow, kid. I never realized that you had done all of this,” Kelley breathed, still trying to process everything, “why didn’t you say anything? We didn’t know we were working with a superstar.” At this, she wiggles her eyebrows at you, drawing a giggle. 

“I never meant to keep it from you, I promise. I just don’t usually talk about it. It’s not something I can start a conversation with, and after I had known y’all for so long it would be weird to bring it up.”

The hours after this were filled with you regaling them with tales of your childhood: the parties you attended and the people that you met, the glamorous lifestyle everyone saw and the blood, sweat, and tears you put in behind the scenes. You soaked in the attention, you had learned to love being the center of it from a young age. 

—-

A couple months later, you were fast asleep on your bed. Practice had been exhausting that morning, Vlatko running the midfielders through intense drills in the extreme heat. You didn’t know if you were going to cry or throw up after practice, but decided on taking a quick cold shower and falling into bed. 

You had been sleeping peacefully for maybe 45 minutes when someone started banging on your door. You ignored it, assuming whoever it was would go away. After about 30 seconds of knocking, it stopped. You sighed, ready to fall asleep again, only to be met with the lock buzzing and the door opening. Of course they had the key, Mal was your roommate. She was usually great, except for when she was with the other youngsters. Then, it was like they shared one brain cell and it was lost somewhere in space. 

“Psst, Y/N, wake up! Hey, Y/N/N, you really do have to wake up. It’s important, we need you,” the voice wasn’t leaving you alone. 

You gave up on sleep, rolling over to see Mal, Sonny, Kelley, and Lindsey staring at you. You simply blink at them, waiting for an explanation. Sonnett jumps in:

“Have you been on TikTok recently? There’s this trend, people are lip synching to the Matilda soundtrack and doing the dance. And some people are pretending they were in the show too.”

Way too tired to follow her ramblings, you ask, “ok, so? What do you need from me?” 

“You need to teach us the dance. The real dance, not the fake TikTok version. And we need to find the audio of you singing it, it must be somewhere on the internet. And you need to be in the video, obviously. But we need to learn it now.”

You knew you wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep, so you rolled out of bed and slipped on shoes. Standing at the door, you look back, “aren’t you coming? It’s time for Broadway Bootcamp.” 

—- 

An hour later, the rest of the team made it to the conference room to watch game footage. Instead they were met by you trying to teach hopeless dancers how to dance. You had embraced your role fully, yelling directions and pointing out flaws. 

“Come on, you think this is hard? I was doing this when I was in Kindergarten. Try singing along with it, then we’ll see how out of breath you get.”

The team laughed as you slowly sang the song and did the movements, trying to get the others to follow along. You were barely halfway through the song, at this pace y’all would be up until midnight practicing. But you weren’t letting your Broadway reputation be ruined by a silly little TikTok. You weren’t going to let a little thing like little stop you. 

not my best, I didn’t even proofread, but I just wanted to put something out. as always, critics welcome, but be nice about it.

#uswnt imagine #womens soccer #woso community #woso x reader #uswnt players #uswnt woso #uswnt x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #reader insert

[crow-collective]

You guys are gonna be really disappointed in two weeks when Les mis goes in the box with every other musical theatre hyperfixation I've ever had only to be brought up when someone mentions something vaguely related

#le miserable musical #les mis #les miserables #enjoltaire #send help #hyperfixation #whoops #so dissapointed

[zahri-melitor]

A small cultural supremacism thing:

I was at a show last night, which was an Australian musical, and they did my absolute favourite thing.

The actors sang in Australian accents. (Here’s a recording of True North for an example)

There’s this accent I call the musical theatre accent. That people expect theatre to be performed and sang in. You hear it in a lot of music as well: it’s a generic, ‘neutral’ (generally mild American) accent.

I hate it. So much. There’s no REASON for it half the time.

So you see actors putting on American accents or British accents for shows set in those countries, but they’ll use neutral accent for shows where it shouldn’t even matter. Why does Wicked need to be sung in an American accent? It’s set in OZ! Why does Les Mis get sung in a vaguely English or Neutral accent? They’re in FRANCE.

But not only are all the actors being held to generic accents, but they’re held to generic accents from a country they don’t even live in. Just because the person who wrote the musical debuted it on either Broadway or the West End.

It’s just…grrrrrrrr. So whenever anyone actually writes music designed for the accent I actually speak, it delights me.

(Also one of the things that mean this show will likely never travel internationally, but the entire premise of the show is ‘a song ridiculing Clive Palmer got confused for a kid’s song, so a protest band now pivots to kids shows a la the Wiggles’ which is asking a bit in terms of what international theatres may want)

#z sees Aus theatre

[neroushalvaus]

I wanna ask you an important (not really) question, but don't feel like you have to answer.

Javert in epilogue Heaven: yes or no? Is he in hell or purgatory maybe?

Hey, as far as I am concerned, this is an important question ;D This is actually a discussion I have cared enough about to give a whole ted talk about it in my friends' musical theatre podcast (sadly the episode is in Finnish). But yeah, my opinion is a very definitive "yes".

Because I know people have conflicting views about this, I hope you don't mind me explaining myself, I don't want to end up on people's "bad les mis takes" blocklists before I get to justify my case.

So, when we talk about Heaven in the context of Les Mis, we can't ignore the fact that Les Mis as a musical and as a book holds Christian values. If we look at the main theological themes present in the book, it preaches hospitality, grace and forgiveness (and also liberation theology even though it wasn't called that back then but we are keeping it simple). That's why "Javert can't go to Heaven because he was a bad person" doesn't work for me, even though I absolutely agree that he is. If Javert is not in Heaven, I think having Javert's Suicide mirror Valjean's Soliloquy is a bad decision. The bishop shows Valjean kindness, Valjean looks within and Valjean gets a new life; Valjean shows Javert kindness, Javert looks within... And? I think it makes narrative sense that Javert gets a new life, even if it is after death.

Another argument I have seen is "Javert wouldn't want to be in the epilogue, there is a barricade there", and I don't agree with that either. Like. I don't think it's a literal barricade, it is a metaphor for how the equal world the Amis wanted exists after death. I'm not saying it's not a bittersweet ending – I think Karl Marx would absolutely hate it –, but that's what it is. It's not a very revolutionary ending. For what it's worth, I don't think the literal character of Enjolras would actually be comfortable singing about how everyone will be equal once they're dead and that's fine. It only works if the barricade is a metaphor.

Aside from being Heaven, I think the epilogue has two purposes; to gather all the characters on the stage once more, and to give the audience some catharsis. This is why I think Javert should be there, and in fact, I think every character in the show should be there. The book and the show are called Les Misérables for a reason, every character in it is wretched and has been left behind by society. The musical is pretty vague about Javert's wretchedness, but I think he reveals just enough for the audience to see that this is a miserable bastard and if he were to sing in the end with the others, that would bring the audience some catharsis. Especially seeing him together with everyone the society he has served has harmed, and he himself has harmed. I personally would really like that. "We will walk behind the plowshare, we will put away the sword. The chain will be broken and all men will have their reward". I also like how that would prove Javert wrong. As he sings in Stars, he thinks that "those who follow the path of the righteous shall have their reward"; then he, in his own mind, fails to follow that path; and he gets in Heaven, where everyone who has suffered in their life will be rewarded, no matter the bad things they did. Not to quote the book too much, but "This door does not demand of him who enters whether he has a name, but whether he has a grief. You suffer, you are hungry and thirsty; you are welcome".

I think that would be the correct way to end this musical. The ending may not be revolutionary, but at its best it is cathartic, hopeful and gentle. So in my opinion it should be as gentle as possible.

#sorry for rambling! but thank you for the ask! #i think i maybe should add the disclaimer that i am a christian #and i don't believe in hell as a place & i was raised lutheran so very sola gratia; you know the drill #btw one of the more interesting epilogues i've seen was in jönköping sweden #where javert was not in the epilogue but the thénardiers were there #and i like the spirit! they really are wretched! but also unlike in the book in the show they are both very much alive while javert is dead #in fact they have a whole song about how alive they are #so. that was a choice. great production though. #kurjat