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[thechief]

I leave Paris and Carrell gets himself arrested in a duel? Not that I'd have made for an ideal second, by any means, but I'd have gone to see the man at least. Seems like while he's in, the least that I can do is brighten up his day a little, rouse some rabble if I can.

I've got David Landeau and his amazing eye for imagery along, and like we managed when the ladies marched, I think we have a decent chance at some great shots to go with some okay words and see what we come up with in terms of something that'll sell. If Carrell can't print and Brian won't, despite the threatening messages he sent when he figured out I was in the air over Paris, then someone with the AP probably will...

We're on our way towards the mining operation itself , hoping to find something to help support both what's going on with the crowd and Mlle. Moore and hopefully find out how we can help them fix what's going on...

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[thechief]

"Hold up a second." Landeau raised a hand, indicating that they should pause, and Enjolras pressed himself flat against the wall, having long ago learned to trust his favorite partner in the field. The man's angle and timing were incredible, and he seemed to work as if he had his own lens somewhere in his mind, almost like the strange flickers at the edges of Enjolras's vision, he'd done his level best to stop paying attention to until he'd come to Paris. Now, he shifted his gaze himself, not liking to use the ability but not wanting to place them in any danger because he didn't like to use it.

Irresponsible and wasteful, when you did THAT, the old grandmaster had pointed out, and Enjolras was in no position to argue that much. Heritage or not, he had been given a gift by virtue of his ancestry, and if he could use it in the cause of delivering France, and seeing it made safe and equal for all, as had been presented to him by Citoyen Robespierre himself, there was but one thing to do. Today, he'd act like an assassin, even when the footsteps grew closer and he made out the red auras surrounding the people coming.

"David." Enjolras hissed the man's christian name to be certain he knew how serious this was, then tapped out the signal to break up and get out of there the two of them had worked out ages ago, after their first riot had gone badly.

He was turning to run too, glad to see the other man had an escape route, when something grabbed him and a cloth pressed against his face with a sweet, cloying smell that made him want to throw up then and there.

"I am a French Citizen of Paris IV..." he started, the words feeling fuzzy and far away. "And I request represent..." And then there wasn't much of anything, until a while later.

When Enjolras woke up, he found that he was placed against a wall, with a screaming headache and slowly making out his new location with a little groan of disbelief. Well, he was nowhere good, that was for sure.