Gavroche

[Gavroche]

GAVROCHE
"Here's the thing about equality: We're all equal when we're dead.”




And little people know, when little people fight,
we may look easy pickings but we've got some bite!
So never kick a dog because he's just a pup –
we'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give up.
So you'd better run for cover when the pup grows up!

Given Name: Gavroche
Nickname(s): Gav, Little Imp, gamin, urchin
Gender: Male
Sexuality: ‘Ew girls are icky!’
Age: 10
Race: Human/French
Home Town: Paris, France

Fandom: Les Miserables
Canon or Original: Canon

Character Portrayal: Daniel Huttlestone
Hair: Blond, constantly dirty, long
Eyes: Blue
Height/build: 4ft. 4in. Extremely skinny and malnourished
Individual Features: He has a Revolution pin on his chest as well as the medal Javert gave him. He dresses in the typical urchin clothes.

Powers: Only the power to annoy you.

Family:
-Madame Thenardier (Estranged Mother)
-Monsieur Thenardier (Estranged Father)
-Eponine Thenardier (Estranged Sister)
-Azelma Thenardier (Estranged Sister)
-He has two younger brothers. But he is unaware of their existence, as he went out on the street before they were born.
Friends:
-All the Street Urchin kids in Paris
-The Friends of the ABC
Enemies:
-Police Officials
-Anyone against the Revolution
Occupation: Street kid

Personality:
Gavroche is not what you would expect out of a poor street urchin. He doesn’t sit and wallow in his troubles, but instead takes lemons and makes some lemonade. When he’s hungry, he finds food, and he finds it while singing his heart out. He’s always cheerful, always has a smile on his face and a joke on his lips. He also has a bit of a smart mouth, and as a child he doesn’t always know when to turn it off.

Don’t let his easy going attitude mistake you. He can be fierce when he wants to. He’ll fight to the death and then some. He is also very intelligent, despite his lack of education. He knows how to read, something he informs people with pride. He knows how to take care of children that most grownups don’t want. Life on the street has forced him to grow up to quickly, so he saves his tears for later.

However, he is still a child. He has boughts of childish behavior woven in to adult behavior. He’ll be arguing with you about Voltaire, then stick his tongue out at you. He’s stubborn in a way that only a child can be.

Likes:
+ Revolution
+ Reading
+ His Friends
+ Playing Pranks
+ Upsetting Adults

Dislikes:
+ Police Folk
+ The Thenardier Clan
+ When people underestimate him because of his size
+ When people try to tell him what to do
+ Girls (They are weird)

Fears:
+ Something happening to his friends
+ That France will never be free

History:
The Thenardiers were perhaps the greediest scoundrels in the history of scoundrels. The couple wouldn’t have any children at all, if the Madame Thenardier did not love little girls so. She had two daughters, which she cherished and spoiled til they were rotten. But the Madame had no desire for having sons, and her husband didn’t want children at all.

So when Gavroche was born, he felt immediately estranged from his parents. As a baby, he was mostly doted on by his sisters, who treated him like a new and improved doll. They would feed him, clothe him (though in silly frilly outfits), and change his nappy (with many excessive giggles). But like most little girls, they soon became bored of their new toy. For Gavroche learned to walk and talk and feed himself, and wouldn’t stand to be in frilly little outfits anymore. So like their parents, they left the toddler be.

When he turned five, his father and mother brought him to Paris and told him that he would have a much better life if he lived on her streets. They then leave the child there.

But Gavroche was smarter than his parents gave him credit for. He found the half-finished Elephant of the Bastille to live in. He found other street urchins and invited them to live with him. It was with these children that he created his own name for himself: Gavroche, King of the Street Urchins. The humble ruler of little people was kind and respectful to his subjects.

Gavroche briefly encounters his two younger brothers out on the streets, but they are unaware of their identities as brothers. Regardless, he still takes them in and takes care of them, but they leave again.

In 1831, he meets the students who made up the Friends of the ABC: Bahorel, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Enjolras, Feuilly, Grantaire, Jean Prouvaire, Joly, Lesgle, and Marius Pontmercy. Unlike others, who merely pity him or hate him, the students treat him like an equal. Courfeyrac teaches him how to read and write, and introduces him to novels written by authors such as Voltaire and Rousseau. Being around the friends makes Gavroche realize that freedom and equality is exactly what street kids like him need. He joins up in their cause, and the Friends use him and his urchin kids as a spy network in Paris.

In 1832, the Student Uprising comes to a head. It is Gavroche that informs the revolutionaries that General Lamarque, he who speaks for the people, is dead. The revolutionaries use his death to create the barricades and revolt against the government of France.

He is with the students at the barricade, though he becomes frustrated that he cannot do more. The students purposefully keep him to the back of the violence, and he felt useless. But when Enjolras cries out that they were running out of ammo during a ceasefire, Gavroche sees that he can be useful, and crawls through te barricade to the open area, beginning to pick up cartages from dead soldiers while cheerfully singing. He is shot, twice, before he finally dies. While going down the line of bodies, Inspector Javert puts a medal upon his chest, then shuts his eyes.

The moment his eyes are shut, Gavroche awakens in modern day New York City. He still lives a street urchin life, while trying to find his friends and deal with now living in a modern world.


Random Facts:
-Gavroche is technically dead in his own time. He is now in modern times and is struggling to adapt.
-He still has the medal Javert put on his dead body. He either keeps it pinned to his front or he puts it in his pocket. In his childlike mind, he sees it as a good luck charm.

Name/alias: Lanni
Age: meeeeh old
RP Experience: 12 +
Any Other Characters?: Loki


RP Sample:
Summer was finally here. School was out, Gavroche was back on the streets twenty four seven until late August, when he would be finally permitted back to the classroom.

Honestly though, besides that nothing had really majorly changed. He had starting going to Sunday Mass, though he pained to admit it aloud. It seemed to keep Javert happy enough, though the Inspector only had two settings: grumpy and grumpier. Besides, if he could sit through those services that he knew absolutely nothing about, he could afterwards go find shady nun and talk with her. And if he had any questions, she was always willing to answer them. Her answers made much more sense than Javert’s, anyway.

It was Sunday morning when he woke with a dull pain in his abdomen.

He rubbed at it with a frown, but it didn’t eleveate. Instead, it just throbbed in time with his pulse. Gavroche was no stranger to stomach pain. When you ate as poorly as he did, you expected a few woosy moments when you got out of bed. Either it was from hunger, or from eating something you really shouldn’t have. Besides, he had eaten a rather modly peice of bread last night. His stomach was probably just being bothersome again.

He shrugged it off and made his way into the small bathroom that sometimes had running water. He washed his face and combed his hair. At least he wasn’t feeling hungry this morning, quite the opposite he had no appetite at all. He could thank the dull pain in his stomach for that. Thank you, oh moldy peice of bread, for filling me up and.....

The pain and nausea hit him like a brick wall to the face. He retched, leaning over the toliet and threw up said moldy peice of bread, plus the apple that he had eaten for dinner last night. When he finished doing that lovely deed he stayed leaning over the toliet, closing his eyes and waiting for the pain to leave. In his experiance, vomiting often made the pain in his stomach all go away.

The sharp pain went back down to the dull throb. But the pain didn’t go away at all. Gavroche rubbed his stomach again with a frown, so it didn’t want to behave today, huh?

There was a knock on the door.

”Gav? You okay in there?” Tina, the oldest kid in the hotel by fourteen years, asked.

“Y-yah.” Gavroche winced again at the sharp pain, staggering over to open the door a crack and gaze at her concerned face. “Just ate sommthin’ funky last night.” He gave a shakey grin, “Yah know the drill.”

Tina frowned, bringing the back of her hand up and holding it to Gavroche’s sweaty forehead, and the boy had to resist the urge to lean on her cold hand. ”Jesus Gav, you are burning up!”

The boy frowned and slapped her hand away lightly. “I’m fine. Just got a bug. It’ll go away in a day, I’m sure.”

Tina tapped her foot, and looked as if she would say something else, then sighed and rolled her eyes. ”Well, just in case, you shouldn’t go to church with that cop of yours.” She gave a small grin, ”You might end up throwing up all over his shoes.”

“Now that’s an idea!...” He declared, and she laughed and swatted at his arm just as he doubled over with another sharp pain. “Heh.... yah yer right. No church.” Javert could get over it, Gav was entitled to at least a few sick days.

The girl in front of him frowned, reached into her pocket, and drew out two ten dollar bills. He blinked as she grabbed his hand and stuck the bills there. “Go down the street, get a six pack of gateraid. You are going to need some major hydration if you really have the flu.” She paused and thought about it, ”Get some saltine crackers while you are at it. You’ll need something to nibble on when you are able to swallow food again.”

The boy’s eyes widened at the mention of food, another sharp pain slamming into his intestines. “Don’ say..” He gulped, nausea making him lean against the rotten door jam, “Food.”

Tina gave him a grim smile, ”Want me to go with you?”

“Nah,” He muttered, closing his eyes as the nausea passed, “I can go on meh own, if I throw up in the store I throw up in the store.” He gave her a grin, then made his way out as carefully as possible. Even with him lightly moving down the old rickety fire escape that lead down to the street, he still dry heaved in the alley when he finally made it down.

The pain in his stomach felt like it was getting worse as he made his way to the small grocery store at the corner. He continued to rub at it, suppressing the urge to let out a whine of pain. He was glad he didn’t go to church, he would be squirming in the pew the entire time and Javert would have been giving him such grumpy cat looks.

He made it into the store without any more episodes of dry heaving, moved into the alise with the different kinds of gateraid. He eyed them with distaste, not feeling the urge to really eat or drink anything at the moment. He was about to choose a six pack of the orange kind, when the sharp pain turned into something even sharper.

Gavroche let out a cry, going to his knees and holding onto his stomach with agony. It felt like getting shot again, the pain blinded him and made him gag, eyes going shut as they filled with tears.

”Hey, hey, hey, hey.... you okay kid?”

Gav squeezed his eyes open as much as he dared, eyeing the blurred image of a NYC cop kneeling next to him. Either he had just gotten off of his shift, or he was just stopping at the store on his way to his shift, because he was in full uniform. Could his day get any worse?

Gavroche was about to tell him to piss off, when another sharp bullet-like pain went through his stomach. He cried out again, his conciousness blurring as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

”This is Officer Deters, I need an ambulence at 115 North Avenue....”

That’s all he heard before everything went black.

---

He woke to being moved, with hands all over him. At his wrist, at his throat, at his stomach which still hurt like nothing else he had ever felt in his life (and he had been shot before). He opened his eyes and above him were florescent lights and blurry faces with white masks on.

”Temperature is 102 and climbing....”

”We are going to need that surgeon now, get him in the room ready to go....”

They moved through some doors and finally rolled to a stop. They all grabbed something around him..... his fuzzy brain couldn’t comprehend. And then they were lifting him and placing him on something else.

Someone had gotten rid of his shirt and there was weird things sticking to his chest, and he could hear a faint beeping going in time with his heartbeat. Terror started to build with pain. He began to squirm, getting annoyed when someone just held his shoulders down, murmering soothing words down at him.

”Que faites-vous? Où suis-je?” He slurred, the person holding him down had taken one hand and was now stroking his hair back, hushing him.

”Alright, get the mask on him, get him under.” A new voice said, all business. Something clear and oval shaped started to decend on his face, and he reached up quickly to push it away.

”Aucun laissez-moi tranquille” He said, panic increasing even as another person pulled his hands down. The one stroking his hair shushed him again, and the mask was on.

”Its okay honey.” Murmered the person stroking his hair as he breathed in and felt instantly drowsey with the ‘mask’ on. ”Its okay.... it’ll all be over soon.”

He had to close his eyes because the lights above were flickering in time with beep of his own heartbeat. Colors swam together behind his eyelids. There was a small prick of something going into his arm, and then.... back to darkness.

---

Beep.............. Beep............. Beep......... Beep

”He has no parents who have come looking for him? It’s been at least two days.”

Someone lifted his arm and unwrapped something that had put pressure on on arm. Someone else was rustling around besides him.

”A librarian showed up yesterday. Left those flowers, stayed a bit. She didn’t seem to know if he had parents, though. And Mitsy told me a nun called yesterday asking about him. Sister Berry-something?... said he wasn’t at church so she was asking around. No parents though.”

There was a chuckle, ”Strange friends for a ten year old. CPS been called yet?”

”They are sending an agent once he’s awake and on the road to recovery. You know how street kids are, skittish as hell when you mention Social Services.”

Something, a blanket is what his mind told him, moved to cover his legs. ”Poor thing.... living on the streets. Probably eating out of a dumpster, and now had appendicitis. Mitsy was in the operating room with him. Said the appendix was ready to burst while the surgeon was taking it out.”

”You’re kidding me!.... Well good thing we got it out in time. Did you see that Officer that brought him in? Talk about a hottie...” The voices were moving away. ”I’d like to try those handcuffs.”

”Oh my dear god, Amanda....” The door shut. Gavroche opened his eyes.

He was in a hospital room. The beeping sound was a heart monitor to his side. There were flowers at the table at the foot of his bed.

Gavroche groaned, reaching up to rub at his eyes. His mouth was dry, he felt like he had been beat up by every member of the Patron-Minette and dumped on the side of the road with sand stuffed into his mouth. His head pounded in time with his heart.

But his stomach no longer hurt. A fact that made him pause. He looked down, gazing breifly at the IV needle in his arm with interest, before pulling back the blanket. Then he pulled up his hospital gown.

A bandage was taped down over the right side of his stomach. The boy frowned at it, curiousity getting the better of him as he pulled up part of the tape, and managed to peel it off with a wince.

He took a moment to eye the black, bloodstained stitches in his side, before throwing the bandage back over it and pulling down his gown with a sigh. Leaning his aching head back and closing his eyes. Okay Gavroche, lets recap: You got this weird thing called Appendicitis which is painful as shit. A bunch of doctors took your appendix out. Now they are going to call CPS and have you taken away.

The boy’s eyes opened, and narrowed. No way was he going with Social Services without a fight. He reached over and hit the powerbutton on the heart monitor. It beeped three times, then died. With that off, and the sticky things on his chest gone, he turned his attention to the needle in his arm.

He didn’t hesitate pulling it out, then pressing a strip of blanket to it as it bled. He used the pain to focus on clamoring carefully out of bed and getting to the ground.

His clothes and things were in a plastic baggie on his bedside table. He pulled off the hospital gown, pulling on his pants and shoes, then pulling over a brand new shirt (his old one was probably cut off) with the words ‘Saint Berthada Hospital’ across the chest. He grabbed the two ten dollar bills, his Revolutionary pin, and the Legion of Honor medal and stuffed them in his pocket.

With that done, he limped over to the door.

It was night, no one was in the hallway as he crept carefully out and into the stairwell. Using the shadows as his ally, he manuvered his way into the ER waiting room, taking it slow because of his side. Once in the waiting room, he was able to blend into all the people and screaming children that were waiting around to be treated for whatever maladys that they deemed important enough to be treated.

He was out the door and onto the street by the time they realized he was no longer in his room.

The score so far was CPS- 0, Gavroche- 1. But as the nurses searched around the hospital for the wayward child, a Social Service agent with a grim mouth moved her pen across the clip board.

She would find this child, she would find him and get him into a foster home where he belonged. This she so swore to herself, as she lifted her phone to her ear to file the missing persons report. The boy may have won this battle, but he could yet loose the war.

And so begins the Gamin's battle with the dreaded Agent, Miss. Craw.

This template was made by me, Grimm.
Don't steal shit. Mashed lyrics from repo! the genetic opera.