the king’s head should be put on the pike and waved around as the newest symbol of peace! the newest symbol of freedom! paris shall have the unity she rightfully deserves!
THE CAFE THEATRE WAS always filled with the short-lived plays and also the occasional freedom cries of the city’s people who fought against the unfair treatment they were subjected to. on one hand, this sounded like a dreadful place for anyone to find themselves in, but on the other, the owner never allowed the cafe to become a mess of politics and death. no, he ran it as if turmoil, sickness and poverty didn’t lie right outside each various exits.
look too quickly and you missed the frenchman in the corner with a broom or at one of the service counters with a cup of coffee in his clutches. no one assumed he as the owner but a mere servant with his constant scowl and distant persona. today wasn’t any different-- if you take into account that he was seated next to a girl who seemed rather interested in the ongoing speech happening on stage.
‘don’t go getting any ideas, mademoiselle.’ arno murmurs, gaze shifted in her direction. these people sparked riots that only ended with more bodies placed on blood-soaked carts and burning heaps of flesh. one small ignite in the heart of those who wished to changed paris and her rotten inhabitants, ended with an extinguished flame and hope loss.
