Put That Thing Back Where It Came From Or So Help Me

[Clopin]

Before Clopin could tear into just who had interrupted his proceedings once again, he turned to see Esmeralda cutting through the crowd, her voice clear.

Wait.

With a resigned sigh, the king of France paused once more, as both of his canines flanked him on each side. He watched as his sister, perhaps the only one who could ever stop him from doing things, spoke to the vile man hanging from the vicelike grip of the two gypsies holding him. His dark brown eyes narrowed, watching the exchange like a hawk.

And then, that was when he saw the former Archdeacon materialize in front of all of them, in the robes that he had passed away in. Clopin remembered the elderly man quite well, having thanked him in the past for providing his dear sister sanctuary when she needed it most. The spectre spoke to both him and Esmeralda, assuring that Claude was now on a path to good. Clopin huffed at that remark, crossing his arms over his chest. While he was sure the Archdeacon meant well, even to the point of possessing Claude, he could not be sure if that was really Frollo’s chosen path. He merely nodded in response to Roland as he disappeared back into Frollo.

Sanctuary.

Clopin resisted the urge to spit on the ground in front of Frollo. He was never a religious man himself, having dealt with things that most religions would never approve of. But for whatever reason, despite all that, despite being the outcasts, Archdeacon Roland had accepted them without question. The king clenched his hands into fists, his mind racing with a million questions and decisions. His one priority, besides defeating the Blackblood Legion, was to keep his country safe, to provide a safe haven to the people he now ruled over. He had to do whatever it took.

As much as he loathed wanting to say it, he couldn’t hang Frollo, as he was originally intending to do. Especially not after seeing the ghost of one of the few kind-hearted people in Paris. He clenched his teeth, suddenly turning away from Frollo.

“To the vieil Court. And this time, there will be no more interruptions.” Clopin finally said, after a long period of silence. The crowd then moved forward at his command, as Dante and Virgil kept up with his pace. As they crossed into the network of tunnels, he lit a torch to light the way, as some of the other Rogues did the same, so that they could all see where they were going. As they got closer to the old Court of Miracles, he felt the presence of someone else next to him.

King Clopin, a word?

There was no denying that Clopin had a particular soft spot for the French maiden. But with all that was going on, he had to remain steadfast. He continued to walk, albeit a little bit slower to allow conversation.

“I’m sorry Belle, but you can’t stop me. I have to do what I have to do to keep my people safe.” Clopin murmured.

[Maul]

Maul didn’t understand anything that was going on. Even less so considering she continued her chant throughout half of it before shutting up. The deranged wolf-porcupine was eventually reduced to just jerking her head back and forth, glassy eyes never appearing to focus on anything. Eventually she became so frustrated she sat up and pounded her paws against her face.

Though she hadn’t the slightest idea of the context to any of this, she didn’t care. Maul still knew what she wanted. The creature crawled among the exiting Rogues, stubbornly returning to her chant;

“Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!”

~*~

A golden pelt and glittering purple suit shown among the crowd. Cheata made an appearance among the throng. Though he certainly was interested in having a front row seat, he made no time for talk. The conman weaved and ducked through the onlookers with the grace his feline heritage granted him.

[Belle]

"I'm not looking to stop you." If there had been a pause to Belle's stride it slowed her none. Her words were kept quiet, the counsel she held out relegated to what privacy she could muster beneath the padding of leather soles on stone. "Offer a delay, maybe. But not stop you."

Belle continued in explanation, "If this man was a ranking member of the Blackblood Legion he might have intelligence that even our best spies can't sniff out. Not just the numbers and strategies, though I'm sure insider knowledge on those fronts would be positively marvelous, but who we are fighting. Their personalities and weaknesses." One hand reached out in a bold movement to snag Clopin's wrist -- not in a firm grip but a simple catch-and-release touch to encourage the man to break stride and look at Belle. Men could be much like a ball rolling down the mountainside, Belle had found. Difficult to divert once they got their minds fixed, but if she could get him to stall just long enough to consider the possibilities... Belle offered a smile sharp enough to be considered crass in high society.

"Imagine the potential we could do if we knew how the minds of opposing officers work. Let him earn a stay of execution, held for as long as he can be of use to the people he hurt."

[Emily]

Emily too had caught up with the travelling party, the distinctive pop of her blink sounding as she matched strides with the king. She had not been a member of the army long but she knew a hasty decision when she saw one and was in full agreement with Belle on this. Besides, Emily wasn't afraid to speak her mind to her superiors and she had a feeling this was one of the times were being vocal was preferable to being silent.

The closer they got to the gallows, the less time they had to stop Clopin before he did something irreversable. So, Emily threw herself in front of the man and planted her feet, being the immovable object to his unstoppable force and they would see who would budge first. At least she could give Belle more time to convince with softer words what Emily would use harsher ones to say.

"She's right and you're being an idiot about this." she spoke up, arms folded, determined to be one of the voices of reason amidst those baying for blood "Who knows what he knows. Hell, use torture if you really want him to hurt, but don't throw the best chance at getting to the Blackbloods that we have."

She knew she had just thrown herself into a dangerous position, but Emily didn't care. She knew better than anyone that every tiny advantage would count if Clopin intended on winning this war.

[Claude Frollo]

Frollo stood looking on. It seems like there were more people with their heads on right here then not. While the thought of torture was sitting on the back of his mind as something he did NOT want to go through, after all he did come here of his own accord. Sort of?

"You again choose to stay slient Claude. Why?" Roland's voice echoed in his mind.

"Because I am interested. Interested to see of the clown king chooses his vengeance over his position. Whether he abuses his power as others in his position have, in to get what he wants. Or will he see reason? I very much doubt it, but this is actually quite a interesting turnaround..."

"The more things change...the more they stay the same. Is that what you mean Claude?" Roland lamented. Heavy lay the crown on the head of the King and Claude is convinced that Clopin is no better that any other that have claimed it. "Only time will tell now if you are right."

[Clopin]

They had just stepped foot into the old Court of Miracles when Belle caught hold of his wrist and released him, diverting his attention fully from the task up ahead. Dante’s eyes flashed dangerously, watching carefully for each human’s next move. He felt strongly for Clopin’s struggle—the king had told him endless stories of the sins that Frollo had committed, using the word of the Lord as a pathetic excuse to carry out orders as he saw fit. But the greatest sin of all had been the ravenous persecution of the people who had taken him and Virgil in as young rambunctious pups, who had cared for the two of them as a village, and whose king first took pity on them. They were Clopin’s people, but most importantly, they were Dante and Virgil’s. Before Clopin could respond to Belle, Emily suddenly appeared in front of the king, providing an immovable barrier based on her wide stance.

The king was moments away from slitting Frollo’s throat himself in front of everyone there. He wanted justice, in its most vengeful form. But never had he ever had to struggle like this just to kill a man! His dark brown eyes looked from Belle to Emily, as a slowly boiling irritation began to grow. He signalled for Dante and Virgil to stand down, as both canines looked about ready to attack Emily for interfering much more aggressively than Belle had. Dante snarled in response but did not move, while Virgil shuffled his paws to try and redirect the irritation that he could feel rolling off of Clopin in waves. The golden crown suddenly felt heavy on his head, as he closed his eyes for a moment to think. Memories flashed in the blackness of his vision, as he saw himself looking on a familiar scene. His father Moses, the former king of their tribe, rested a hand on Clopin’s thin, boyish shoulder, looking him in the eyes. The two of them were sitting on the outskirts of Paris, recovering from a lengthy day of lessons that Moses felt he had to teach his young son.

As king, you will be responsible for your people…our people. But also know, that sometimes they may know better than you. Listen to them, my son. Don’t just overrule them because you can.

Roland’s words echoed as well.

Because my child, everyone deserves a chance to redeem themselves. And by giving us that chance, you may end up saving more that just Paris... but the world at large.

Dark brown eyes opened once more, as he slowly dipped his head with sigh of defeat. Both Emily and Belle were correct. What did he have to gain from immediately killing Frollo, besides instant gratification that the tyrannical judge would finally be dead by his own hand? Perhaps the judge would have information that he and his closest soldiers knew they so desperately needed. He then turned to address Frollo once more, looking down on the disgraced judge as he stood above him, arms crossed over his chest.

“Judge Claude Frollo, as the king of France and leader of the the Rogues, I grant you a stay of execution.” Clopin began, his voice carrying clearly for all to hear. He then lifted a hand, signalling that he was not quite done yet.

“However! Do not count yourself lucky yet, mon ami.” Clopin growled, eyes flashing with contained anger.

“You will be watched constantly, and shackled when you are outside of your cell. You will provide us with the information we need, even if we need to break a few bones to do it.”

[Clopin]

PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME IS NOW CLOSED. PLEASE DO NOT POST REPLIES.