Types of people who romanticize small town life:
- People who didn’t grow up in small towns
YES! Also did I tell you about my beautiful plan to get all the inside knowledge on him and his hair?
nO YOU DIDN’T INFORM ME
les mis + blade runner | (x)
In 2014, world war three began. America, Russia, China, those were the superpowers and nobody was surprised. Instead, amist the bombs and the carnage, countries started to look out for themselves, their own people. So every country had it’s defense, armed and ready, and for France, that was the replicants. Soldiers, robots in a sense yet completely human in their form, with amazing ability. The catch was they weren’t real, but they thought they were. French citizens simply doing their duty. Four years, that’s how much life they were granted with, and to be told what you were was a notice of your own death sentence. The only saving grace was in a battlefield, you were less likely to meet that mark anyway.
Except wars end, and in 2019, world war three did. The war ended and many replicants were still alive, some knowing what they are and waiting for their end and some not. The French government didn’t see fit to just let them live out their lives, but rather to disassemble them as if they were merely pieces of machinery. They made tests, ones that were designed to tell if you were a replicant or an average human, and they trained bounty hunters. Blade runners. Their job was to take down the replicants they were assigned to find. Javert was one of the government’s best. He took his job incredibly seriously, tracking down every replicant he was assigned with efficiency, swiftness, and ease. They were not a thing which he would well on for long, he merely saw it was helping his government institute justice for those that were living, breathing pieces of treason.
That was two years ago.
Now it is 2021, and replicants are a rarer being. Blade runners are a myth that is murmured among the street, but no one will ever claim they’ve ever truly existed, and it’s quite the easy claim, as most of them merely keep to themselves and scrape up work where it’s given, Javert included, though he had a different goal. The somehow aging man and the young girl with the flowers in her hair, the two that always managed to exceed his grasp and play innocent to his game. So far as Javert is concerned, this is the case he had been on for the past two years, and it had to be done before their time ended, strictly on principle alone.
- x -
Valjean found them in the later months of 2020, on the outskirts of Paris where they had been waiting out the authorities. Cosette found them first, on a walk she trekked through out of pure rebellion against his wishes, where she met one Marius Pontmercy. The two seemed to connect instantly, and Cosette had given him their entire story in full.
How her mother, Fantine, had died four years ago, and then Valjean had adopted her as his own. Valjean was a simple man, who she saw as a father, and she had never seen him commit il toward any being, yet they were being chased by a man they didn’t know. When Marius used the term ‘blade runner’, Cosette had no idea what it entailed, and when he told her all she could do was stare. “But…I’m human. Papa is human too, why…why would they be after us?”
Marius couldn’t give her a reason, but he did know a way to help. The organization of Paradise Found was full of replicants, rebelling against their creators not for their own lives but for the lives of the rest of their kind, and he’d felt more at home with them than he had anyone else. “I’m human too.” He smiled, nervously. “But if you fake a birthdate, they’ll never know the difference, so long as you’re on their side.”
He laughed more, sliding across the bar as well and taking the bottle away, sliding back again to sit on the bar. “That’s gin, dumbass. Gin is barely even passable as something other than household chemical cleaner if you mix it with ten thousand other things.”
Enjolras opened his eyes again, giving him a look. “Then why would anyone drink it?”
He shrugged, dark curls bouncing a bit with how fluidly he did. “Same reason you’d go on a crusade for life when you’ve got the life span of a resilient hamster.”
"It’s not for my life." His voice had the same recoil as before. "Which, if you’ve already spoken to my friends, you know that."
"You really think you can change something? They’re a huge corporation, they don’t care about us, they have us programmed exactly the way they want us." He swished the bottle around, glancing at it. "Desposable."
"But we’re not." Enjolras took a step closer, and the other man’s attention moved away from the gin and back to him. "They gave us a prototype, a theoretical heart beat and a body. Our souls, we made those. We’re people, just as them. What they do to use, it’s first degree murder, and it needs to be stopped. There has to be a way to make our lives be normal, and we shouldn’t be persecuted, a baby wouldn’t be persecuted because their mother gave birth to them. We deserve to live, and be happy, and if we have to tear them down for that to be noticed then so be it." He stopped long enough to see the other man’s gaze and blinked. "…What?"
The blue in his eyes was deeper than Enjolras’ own, both from his previous drinking and how long he’d been staring directly into Enjolras’ own. There was a hint of a natural smile on his lips that he couldn’t pull away and he shook his head just enough. “Nothing.” Enjolras continued to watch him, and he looked down quickly. “Flying toward the sun type, aren’t you?”
The blond blinked, shrugging. “When I need to be, yes.”
in harry potter we don’t say “i love you” we say “LILY TAKE HARRY AND RUN GO I’LL HOLD HIM OFF” which roughly translates to “james potter is better than your sorry ass” and i think that’s beautiful
i’ll probably shit in your backpack
new best threat