(OPEN) Capulet Manor Costume Ball|(Fast paced)

[THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO]

:Costume:
Suit/Mask
Find me in the ballroom.

Monte Cristo had been keeping a close watch on the people going in and out of the ballroom, so he was not surprised when a couple brushed past him. The man- the pimp he had noticed earlier in the foyer- made a remark about drinking. He had apparently noticed Monte Cristo's declination of the refreshments that had passed by.

Naturally, the observation amused Monte Cristo. He turned to watch the couple as they stopped before a gentleman nearby. Unless Monte Cristo was mistaken- and he rarely was- the gentleman was the comptroller of New York. Monte Cristo may have been new to the city, but as always, he had done his research beforehand.

Monte Cristo could follow the group's conversation easily, as he was standing fairly close to them and none of them were making an effort to keep their voices lowered. The pimp introduced himself as one Dr. Faustus, and the woman identified herself as the daughter of a Maine senator... among other things.

There were conversation starters, and then there were personal conversation starters. Monte Cristo could have facepalmed. This was just another reason why he did not drink often in public. Alcohol had a tendency to alter one's judgment, sometimes with disastrous consequences. One had to be careful about who had access to such sensitive information.

Monte Cristo turned to look at the people on the dance floor. He was still within hearing range of the conversation, but did not have much of an active interest in what was being said. He would simply store the overheard information away for future recall, for he never knew when the random tidbits he heard would become useful.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

:Costume:
www.flickr.com/photos/41533634@N02/4529597273/

Find me in the ballroom

"Ah, my father was Belus Purcell. He was a Senator from Maine, very highly ranked. He was in this city a lot, too."

Richard would have made his reply here; he had indeed known Belus Purcell...that wasn't to say he had liked him much. His and Richard's ideas for the city had been very different and, if Richard recalled correctly, the pair of them had gotten into a few nasty arguments over the years. But then he'd gone off to the war and never seen him again...

"Died of pneumonia, like, fifteen years ago."

That explained his absence then. Richard nodded as Elissa said this and was about to attempt to speak again, to say something along the lines of the fact that he was sorry for her loss (if only to keep up appearances, he didn't actually miss the man all that much) but the woman just kept talking!

"And then my brother, Pygmalion, killed my husband and left me to find the body. Surely you saw that in the news?"

Well, if this wasn't the strangest first impression he'd had of someone in awhile, and that was including a recent visitation of some of Edward's raucous friends from university.

Richard found himself blinking in slight confusion as the young woman appeared to conclude her ramblings. Why, he asked himself, had it occurred to her to tell him this? Was she trying to go for the sympathy vote? Because if she was, Richard would have her know he wasn't the most emotional creature on the planet.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Richard said, attempting to inject at least a little emotion into his voice.

He had a momentary thought that he'd be hearing those words again sometime soon, especially considered Edward's wild behaviour tonight. Alcohol always brought out the worst in him.

"I did, indeed, read about what happened in the news...the media do have a fascination with the macabre, do they not? Not to mention they should learn to keep their noses out of other people's business..."

ooc: Sasha, my dear, I hope it was OK that I said that Richard and Belus didn't get on. XD Richard doesn't tend to like many people.

[fagin]

:Costume:
www.flickr.com/photos/41533634@N02/4542540663/

Find me on the front lawn

Fagin hadn't planned to attend the ball, or even entertained the notion of going. He'd heard about it of course, and read about it in the paper, but he'd never actually considered going himself.

But in the days before the big do, oddly, enough, business was slow. He would have expected it to grow, expecting people to be pawning off all sorts so they could scrape together some cash for the perfect costume. But that was not the case.

Unfortunatley, since Fagin had assumed there'd be plenty cash instead of hardly any, he'd decided to celebrate early by replenishing his gin cupboard in the back room. Even more unfortunatley, this reckless spending meant he now had even less in terms of money than was usual with him...this meant he needed to get more. And fast.

He could think of only one method of doing so. And, most unfortunatley of all, that way was stealing.

But then it occured to him that there would be no-one to steal from. Surely everyone who was anyone would be at the ball...?

That was when he convinced himself to go. Even if he was far too old to be sneaking about picking people's pockets, maybe he could nick a few spoons or similar...it wasn't as though posh people like the Capulet's were going to miss them...right?

With this plan in mind, Fagin realized he had to find some sort of costume. He couldn't go as himself; despite the fact that (hopefully) no-one there would know or recognize him, there was always the chance that they might. Having spent a good few hours poking about the shop and rootling around in old boxes he at last procured what he hoped would be passable attire; a rather old and musty looking tweed suit, coupled with a rather threadbare old tie. Hmm. What could this pass as? He would have to get a story straight in case he somehow drew attention and was asked unwanted questions...

It was as this realization dawned that Fagin almost chickened out and decided not to go. Who was he kidding? But his money woes were ever present in his mind, and soon he was swayed back to his plan.

Get a piece of paper, write 'press' on it, stuff it in the brim of a hat, put the hat on. One of those old fashioned news reporter chaps. The hat even matched the suit, and the brim was quite wide so as to keep his face at least partly in shadow.

Fagin felt almost euphoric as he hurried to hail a taxi to the manor. The driver looked at him in his rather tattered costume disdainfully but said nothing, just drove.

Thank goodness.

His arrival at the ball was as low-key as he could possibly make it. Instead of waiting for one of the doormen to open the car door, he hurriedly opened it himself and, having paid his fare, decided to wait on the front lawn rather than go straight into the house, to formulate a plan of action and make sure he had his facts straight. Doubtless the men waiting in attendance at the door would want to see the invitation he didn't have...

It began to occur to him that he hadn't planned this very well...but he couldn't back out now, especially such he'd just paid for the taxi.

[ricketts]

Costume;

wartime countryboy.
Find me on the front lawn.

It made painful reading. What degrees of shocking details came and went or stayed with paper editors, they may have over - they may underestimate. God knows. Henry considered and eventually understood where the man - he couldn't quite recall his name from the newspaper - as he recalled unpleasantly that he had been in a newspaper himself. Not a paper as influencial as the New York Times, just a little gazette back in Ireland - but it had been enough to provoke panic within the community. He had at the time been safely locked away, gradually reawakening back, and when he took those first steps back into society he was, shall we say, unwelcomed.

To every sign, through the pangs of a torn mind; mind, not conscience, Henry caught a significant grasp. Though, he had to admit, the guy seemed so composed. Stately even. The fact that he had managed to run amuck like a bat out of hell surfaced a certain amount of interest and inquisitiveness, yet he thought it best not to ask information on what had happened.

'Look mate, m'sorry just thought I remembered your face. Didn't mean t'tread where I shouldn't 'a done.' He said, abit awkwardly. Fixing the flopping cap on his head and raising his shoulders in some mingled approach to expressing fault.

[hamlet]

------------------------
Costume: Pardon my never-edited-a-photo-like-this photoshopping skills
(You get the idea 1930s-esque suit with a fedora)
Mask: Simple-mask-that-Harry-chooses-not-to-wear-but-its-on-his-person
(he might put it on once and a while though)
Find me on the front lawn
(its goin' dooown. )
-------------------------

(slight godmod here too)

"Yeah. Sure." Harry said simply and sarcastically. Lately he was generally suspicious of everyone. Especially now that the story was out in the papers. God knows what people have heard through the grapevine from his uncle and his form of "PR control" on behalf of Hamlet Enterprises. He was just generally annoyed by the whole situation. Sure it was a risk he needed to take, acting a fool in that museum, but if he was going to keep the act up, he needed to do it properly. But no one likes being talked to as if he'd gone ape and as much as Harry told himself he should get used to it, he simply wasn't yet. He wasn't the one crazy, but he could name a few people in his household who were.

In fact, everyone in this city was probably much crazier. That's the ironic thing about it. That's why Harry wanted to leave so bad.

He just had a few matters that kept him there.

He gripped Ophelia's hand a bit tighter and looked at her. "Shall we?" He said with a smirk. He lead her down the steps and further on the lawn to the side, away from the people coming in and out. From where they stood, they had a majestic view of the manor and the soft sounds of chatter seemed to be background noise to the calming music of the night.

"Sorry about that, back there." He shook his head, referring to the man on the stairs. Finally, looking at her, he held her by her arms and gently slid his hands down until he reached her hands. He held both of them loosely for a moment as he admired her. "Truth is, I really wanted to get out of there because I was thinking maybe..." He paused, letting go of one hand. He slowly moved her pretty masquerade mask upwards revealing her captivating blue eyes more clearly. He smiled. "...maybe I could take a look at you more clearly and tell you..." he paused again, sincerity in his eyes. "I'm really glad you came."

He sighed with contentment and said. "I was thinking...if you are nervous about the ballroom...I know I am. We could practice, just us together." He grinned knowing that she would think he was either really crazy, or she would go along with his little idea, feeling just as crazy. He prepared for the confused look she would probably give him.

[yolanda7g]

------------------------
Costume: Pimpin' all over the world
Cane:...instead of a mask
Find me in the ballroom.
And heeere we go!
------------------------

Faustus grinned at Richard's response and was about to answer when Elissa started talking.

And kept talking.

His smile slowly dropped.

Yeah she kept talking.

Still talking.

His expression now contained a furrowed brow and wide eyes, what most people would call, "Looking at someone like they're crazy." Because seriously, this drug is really having a strange effect on this chick. DAMN. She's still talking!

After she was done, he cringed a bit. "Yeah..." He agreed with Richard. "Sorry for the...loss." He cleared his throat. Wasn't this drug supposed to bring people up? Why is this girl talking the opposite?? But Richard recovered from Elissa's little...rant and Faustus picked up on it.

"Yes, absolutely." He took advantage of this opportunity. "In fact I remember when I won the Hospital Doctor award for my excellence and advancements in the medical field, they were at my door trying to get the dirt. What is it with these people trying to get any story they can get their hands on? I'm sure you get enough of it, being the mayor's right hand man, right?" He grinned cordially.

He put his arm around Elissa again, just in case she decided to prance away and tell everyone else about her morbid stories.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

:Costume:
www.flickr.com/photos/41533634@N02/4529597273/

Find me in the ballroom

"Yes, absolutely."

Richard nodded as Faustus spoke, pleased that he seemed to have intervened. He'd frowned slightly at his curious manner of speaking at first, his apparent struggle to finish 'sorry for your loss', not to mention the look he'd given Elissa. But he'd soon shrugged it off. As if her being completely drunk mattered to him.

"In fact I remember when I won the Hospital Doctor award for my excellence and advancements in the medical field, they were at my door trying to get the dirt."

This man seemed very full of himself. Not that Richard was about to point it out to his face. If he'd been in a worse mood he might have done and then headed off for that drink, but as it was, despite his confusion at Elissa's little ramble, he found himself quite enjoying the conversation at hand.

"What is it with these people trying to get any story they can get their hands on? I'm sure you get enough of it, being the mayor's right hand man, right?"

Richard's disdain at Fautus' ego seemed to dissapear at these words. Certainly, he was just being cordial and re-involving Richard in the conversation, but he seemed to understand about the media hounding...something many people didn't and even went so far as to expect him to enjoy. Not to mention he'd called him the mayor's right hand man. Technically it was George who held that title; Richard was still somewhat in the dark as to why Edward hadn't invited George along with them to the Ball (he definitley preffered him over Richard, even though the pair of them were opposite in terms of temperment). But he liked the sound of the words all the same.

"Quite enough of it," he said, somewhat coolly. "Although, if we're speaking in all technicality, I'm not Edward's right hand man...at least not yet."

He paused, realizing he'd probably just let something slip that he shouldn't have. Curses. He hadn't even drunk anything, yet here he was, feeling like he was revealing secrets.

In an attempt to steer the conversation away from the brittle glass it was doubtless about to step on, Richard changed tack, reffering to a comment Fautus had made earlier. Bringing the conversation back to him and his achivements would, he hoped, keep it away from himself and his...plots.

"You mentioned excellence and advancements in the medical field?" Richard said, trying not to sound overly eager and cringing inwardly at the fact that he was making himself speak on a topic he despised. Doctors, hospitals, medicine...he had a tendency to hate all of it. "Care to explain?"

[sasha]

:Costume:
Dress|Hair (sans brooch)|Mask (Top Right)|Necklace|Clutch
Find me in the ballroom.

Elissa was still trying to figure out why the hell she just said what she'd said. As the moments went by, the answer had not become clear. Well, she couldn't even figure out the answer, for starters. Of course both men had responded with the "sorry for your loss" thing, which she'd heard enough times to last her the rest of her life. Whether by the alcohol or by some nervous impulse, she laughed. She actually laughed. What the hell?

"Oh, you should have seen the media when I almost jumped off of the GW a few months ago after my second husband divorced me!" she exclaimed, still giggling like an absolute nutter. "I paid them to shut up about it, of course, but when they first got that story...what a shit storm!" Okay, so her tact had gone out the window along with her wits. If she remembered this in the morning, she would not be making more public appearances any time soon. Though, of course she'd remember it; she had just had only one drink. Last time she checked, one didn't get this buzzed from a single martini. Maybe all of this was her cooped up anger exploding in the form of complete stupidity. It really was anybody's guess.

Ah, so the comptroller was asking about Faustus and his line of work. Di couldn't resist piping up, "Oh, and he rescues puppies from burning buildings, too! Isn't that amazing?" Almost as soon as she finished, she began to feel even more of a buzz, and her legs felt somewhat shaky. It was a good thing that the doctor had a strong grip on her waist; she certainly needed some stability right now…and in all senses of the word. Who knew how much longer the giggling fit would last?

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

:Costume:
www.flickr.com/photos/41533634@N02/4529597273/

Find me in the ballroom

Richard decided to take back his earlier thoughts at enjoying the conversation. This was just getting weird now. Why on Earth was Elissa, the daughter of admittedly respected man, acting so crazily? Sure people acted differently when they were grieving or drunk (or, as in Elissa's case, both) but this was just a bit too off the dot for Richard to even find it amusing any more.

Maybe she was on drugs?

Strange thought. Richard wasn't entirley sure how it had entered his head, but now the idea seemed firmly planted there. He'd seen people drunk before, but never like this. The fact that she was laughing about the fact she'd attempted suicide was enough to put him on edge.

At her comment about Faustus' rescuing puppies from burning buildings, Richard attempted a smile; it was normal, after all, to be concerned about cute little bundles of fur perishing in flames...wasn't it? However all that really happened was a grimace. Oops.

Wiping the look of his face for fear of the reprimands it might get him, Richard looked from Elissa and over to Faustus again, one eyebrow raised slightly as if to question her strange behaviour. Strangley enough now Richard was particullarly eager for the doctor to talk about himself, if not to evade what he'd said but to drown out Elissa's laughter.

[yolanda7g]

Same outfit.
Find me in the ballroom./Find me in the pool area-ish

(godmodding here too lol)

"You mentioned excellence and advancements in the medical field? Care to explain?"

Faustus gave a haughty and prideful laugh. "Well it's nothing really except achieving the impossible." He grinned. "I'm a surgeon. Been doing research on spinal and nerve operations. I've made the crippled walk, man. I done some work with illness research too. Made a few breakthroughs in cancer, HIV AIDS, hell even the swine flu, especially working with antibiotics and other kinds of medicine..." His voice trailed off and he looked at Elissa as she began talking again.

Okay, confirmed. It's not just the drug. This girl was absolutely nuts. Faustus considered bailing on her and let her tell the whole party about her life story, but...but...

...she was so fine.

He'd have to speed this process up.

"Oh, and he rescues puppies from burning buildings, too! Isn't that amazing?"

Faustus looked at her with wide eyes, resisting the urge to slap a hand over her mouth and push her out of the crowd.

"Hahhaha!" Faustus laughed loudly and forcefully and squeezed Elissa tight, also a bit forcefully as signal for her to shut the heck up. "She's funny! Isn't she? Oh she cracks me up. A little alcohol can go a long way, don't it?"

He let go of Elissa just a little bit in order to lean towards Richard. With a hand covering his mouth he whispered. "She needs a little break, thats all."

He returned to his position and said, "Listen, I'll be right back, we'll talk more, alright?"

And with that Faustus whisked her away out of the ballroom, right in the short corridor leading to the outside pool. He could hear two people outside talking (sounding muffled) but he couldn't see them and they couldn't see Faustus with Elissa.

"Alright, girl. Calm down." He said to her, as if that would help. He knew it wouldn't. "You don't want to get...heh," He grinned suggestively. "...to carried away now, do you?"

[philosopher]

Costume;

I am .. masked.
Find me in the foyer.

Holmes was thinking fast. There was only a chance at this silly game, it was true; and a very slim chance at that. But what would Irene mean to him? For surely and steadily, in the long, pleasant summer days, in the starlit watches of the night, his resolution was growing: he must live and work for all that was sensible. But then again falling head-first for the notorious cutpurse theif that was Miss Adler had never been sensible. For a change, he was going to be the idiot, and do something idiotic.

His glass slightly dipped forward when Irene asked how he had come to be invited, 'Ah, well. You might say I'm a loose friend of peu Dame Capulet. Or this is just one of those days when a man happens to be more riches then rags. Pick whichever one you like, chèrie.'

The man's eyes were as still as the belated drunkard, and it really couldn't be helped. Irene's appearance had an allure to make to him which he thought no true gentleman, such as he was, for instance, could decline. There was a fine line that fell between flattery and staring like a bewitched victim, and Holmes was slowly crossing it. It was indeed a good thing she could not see his look.

'I must say, chèrie. That dress is .. rather stunning.' He commented, with wide-eyed interest. 'I wonder if perhaps your husband bought it for you? What man these days wouldn't spoil such a beauté, afterall.'

There was no ring on her finger, Holmes had searched for that long ago, but that could mean almost nothing. He caught the words as he struck out, almost hopelessly, through depths such as he never braved before. There were criminals, wars, cases that took a man to the edge of his life - but dare he enter the no-mans-lands that was a female's mind. For that was not the safe land-bound harbor; that was not the calm lap of the river around the sheltering wharf; that was a world of waters, seething, surging roaring around him, Irene with her hunting eyes hungry for prey.

[IRENE ADLER]

:Costume:
quizilla.teennick.com/user_images/W/WA/WAF/waffleLOVESlinkinpark/1178428840_ballgown14.jpg
Find me in the foyer.

So he worked for Madame Capulet , or was an aquaintance of hers , well that was good at least they both had a reason to be here for the duration of the party.

Irene saw the glass tip slightly as she moved a little away from it and stared at the man who was now commenting on her dress, of course what man did not like a woman in a dress, but there was something a little more peculiar, why would he ask her if her husband had bought it for her or not at all. She actually did not have a husband at all, and the only man who she would call husband was her dear sherlock Holmes but that man was ever so thick headed that he would not even propose.

" If you are inquiring if I am single , you can say that I am " she said pressing herself a little closer, daring to touch this stranger hoping to find a friend and maybe some confort so that she could enjoy the party. Worse things would come off it after she had left , and right now she did not want to think about it at all. The mere thought of just sleeping with Archibald made her stomach double , that boss of hers was guetting to far into the game of being with her, and she for the first time did not want to be with him at all.

Ever since that kiss , that firery passionate kiss her mind was plagued by Holmes, Holmes this, Holmes that. She could not get him out of her head , and was he around here she wondered. " No I am not married, The only man I want to marry is the one who find me a very bothersome creature. "she told , and crossed her arms , as she saw a glass of champagne pass by and grabbed it sipping it trying to gulp it down.

She hated what she was feeling and this man was not helping either , she had reminded him of her Holmes and she had nothing to do about it, she could really not go in a pursuit of stalking the man, it would never be right , and she would come off as being scary and inapropiate. A few tears falling down on her cheeks as she took her glove and cleaned them trying to hide them from this new friend.

[sasha]

:Costume:
Dress|Hair (sans brooch)|Mask (Top Right)|Necklace|Clutch
Find me in the ballroom. | Find me in the pool area-ish

Elissa clung onto Faustus's coat with a surprisingly strong grip as he told the comptroller about his expansive resumé. She didn't mean to keep giggling, she really didn't, but she had absolutely no control over it. It just...happened. However, she had enough sense to know that she had to try and stop the giggling. The only thing she could think of was burying her head in his coat to silence this embarrassing fit as the doctor continued his conversation with Plantagenet. She wasn't really listening to the words he said at this point, and she instead focused on how tight his grip on her was. Protective, isn't he? she pondered. How interesting.

She could feel the laugh reverberating in his chest as he said how funny she was. Turning her face toward Plantagenet, she smiled. Then, she looked up at Faustus and remarked, "Me? Funny? That's funny in and of itself!" Another laugh escaped her ruby lips. "Hilarious, in fact!"

Before she heard an answer, she felt the doctor ushering her to another area of the enormous manor. She could see a pool from where they stood, and she heard other voices nearby. And then Faustus spoke. The other voices faded to nothing. "Carried away?" she asked. "What makes you think that?" she added with a kittenish smirk. "I figure you like that kind of thing..."

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

:Costume:
www.flickr.com/photos/41533634@N02/4529597273/

Find me in the ballroom

"Well it's nothing really except achieving the impossible."

This statement, having been said after the arrogant sounding laugh, confirmed Richard's suspicions that this Faustus fellow was incredibly full of himself. Richard had to admit he'd met many an egotistical medical man in his time but this man certainly took the biscuit.

"I'm a surgeon. Been doing research on spinal and nerve operations. I've made the crippled walk, man."

Much as Richard wasn't a huge fan of hearing other people talk about themselves (unless, as in this case, he was using Faustus' ego as an attempt to steer the conversation away from where he didn't want it to tread) but he hated to admit, even to himself, that this statement had caught his attention. Was it really possible that this man, that any man, could help to solve his problems? Make him walk normally again?

The thought was so incredible and yet, at the same time, still seemed like a dream, a mere fantasy. Richard was so absorbed in that single phrase that he hardly heard the rest of what Faustus was saying.


"...Made a few breakthroughs in cancer, HIV AIDS, hell even the swine flu, especially working with antibiotics and other kinds of medicine..."

Richard hated to admit that he was impressed. He resolved to try and convince himself the man was a phony just to stop himself thinking like that, although he was certain he'd seen his name a few times before in medical periodicals. Then again Richard didn't peruse such things with any regularity, having given the whole thing up as a bad job, rather bitterly it must be said.

Another thought soon struck him...if this man was all that he said he was, he'd do best to keep him away from Edward. Richard wanted to open death's door for his older brother and not have Faustus trying to close it with his miraculous medicine.

"She's funny! Isn't she? Oh she cracks me up. A little alcohol can go a long way, don't it?"

At Faustus' laughter and his comment, Richard forced himself to laugh a little too. Although he had his suspicions still that whatever the woman had had tonight wasn't merely a glass or two of wine...

As Faustus leaned conspiritorially towards him and informed him in an undertone that Elissa needed a break, Richard nodded. Glad, rude as it was, to be rid of her, at least until she stopped acting so...crazy.

"Listen, I'll be right back, we'll talk more, alright?"

Richard nodded again, with a wry smile.

"Certainly," he said, looking from Elissa to Faustus and back again. He said nothing more as Fautus steered Elissa away but instead looked out over the dance floor again.

He spotted Edward over at the bar and frowned with displeasure as he saw Edward heading his way. Before Richard could attempt to skulk elsewhere Edward had latched onto his arm with the hand that wasn't holding a brimming martini glass, chuckling like a loon.

"This is some party, huh?" Edward said with a grin, taking a large slurp from the drink.

Richard tugged his arm from Edward's grip but Edward's grin refused to fall.

"How much have you drunk tonight?" Richard inquired coolly, one eyebrow raised. "The doctor told you to-"

Edward said something very uncouth about his doctor and took another drink, almost finishing off the glass.

"Awww, c'mon now Ricky, this is a party! Keyword party! Lemmee have some fun, yeah? There's a good chap."

Richard found he was almost looking forward to Faustus' return.

[ÉPONINE THÉNARDIER]

:Costume:
Dress | Mask
She remains masked.
Find me in the pool area.

Éponine stood, perplexed, staring at the figure before her. He should be a grown man. She knew he was at least older than her, it was obvious based on his appearance. His behavior, however, indicated someone closer to the age of her little brother, who was under the age of ten. She knew that it was the drugs that did it, but that still felt like a sorry excuse. She couldn't understand why someone who had the whole world at their feet would choose to spurn that and live as if they didn't. Éponine would give her right arm in order to be able to escape this hell she was trapped in! People were so stupid to squander what they had for the next greatest high. They took everything that they had for granted! Mercutio was not the first person she'd seen tonight that was an example of this.

She would normally turn around and leave because of disgust at the behavior of this fool. But something held her in, something that she could not identify. Why was she putting up with his erratic behavior? Perhaps something intrigued her about him. She could not put her finger on it. In a way, she found herself relating to him in some strange fashion! After all, he was clearly hallucinating if he thought she was an angel. Éponine was no stranger to hallucinations. Sometimes when she was walking down the street at midnight, she would see her mother, tall and imposing but wonderful to hug, walking toward her. When Éponine was close enough to fall into her mother's arms, the image would disappear and Éponine would stumble into the nearest wall, usually in tears. Other times, she could swear she would turn a corner and see that gang from Kings. She would turn and run around a different corner and see them again. No. Hallucinations were no stranger to her. So in a way, she could sympathize. Éponine sometimes felt better when she was hallucinating than she did when she was sane.

Distracted by her thoughts, Éponine hadn't realized how close Mercutio had come to her. Before she had noticed him, she found herself looking up into his face. His face was still obnoxiously goofy and his words were bungled, but Éponine didn't pull away like she normally would have. Was she so convinced that he was harmless to her that she didn't feel threatened? She felt like her senses were numb. Her survival instinct, which was usually at the forefront of her mind, was being quieted by curiosity. She was here, in this make-believe world, and for some reason she found herself wondering what it would be like to really live in this world for a night. Maybe she should just let go for once and be a carefree high-class girl. He would never know the difference. Tomorrow, it wouldn't really matter what she did tonight. Instead of backing away, cussing at Mercutio, and making her escape, she stayed where she was.

She heard his words and blinked. "I am Nina Jondrette. I am from France." He did not need to know that she had only been from France eight years ago. He did not need to know that she was actually from the gutters of New York City. Tonight, she was Nina Jondrette, rich traveler from France! She would have fun being Nina, too. No one could stop her. Tomorrow she could be Éponine; she didn't care. That was tomorrow, though. Tonight, she was Nina in a fancy dress, standing face to face with a young bachelor who was flying high on some drugs. Whatever. For all the hell she'd been through, she thought she deserved to throw caution to the winds for a change. When Mercutio's hand came up to her hair, she didn't even think about tossing it aside or biting it like she might have in the real world. Who cared if all his affections were entirely fake and drug-induced? It had been a long time since Éponine had felt appreciated in any sense. It was fake, sure, but it was something. It was just was Éponine needed.

[/blockquote]