#the boy who selflessly offered him a place to stay even if he didn't know what he was doing !!! his heart was so warm & open

[lustandrot]

OOC NOTE; He's being gross and weird, sorry. ^^ Also, FYI, this is 1000% musical-based.

'The Court of Miracles' was his at last and quite frankly, it wasn't even that impressive of a discovery, considering just how long he had been in search of such a place to begin with. Either way, those pathetic gypsy dogs finally had nowhere left to scatter - nowhere left to hide - and it was all thanks to Quasimodo for being such an excellent problem-solver. Knowing the boy would eventually be of some kind of use to him, he had to give the hunchback at least some kind of credit by now, did he not? Perhaps once and for all, he would finally be able to extinguish the last of the gypsies, or at least enough of them so that they'd finally just die out and could no longer be of a threat to the souls of the citizens of Paris. In his educated opinion, they didn't even deserve the right to copulate or reproduce.

With the lot of them now having been captured and carried off to various prison cells until it was time for their sentencing, the Archdeacon was already completely head-first in planning the bon fire that would be taking place in the square at dawn, which in turn, had only been a few short hours away. Most of the city had grown restless and the people were angry, not to mention there wasn't a single street in sight that didn't have at least one or two entire buildings completely engulfed in flames - smoke still very much pouring and billowing out while it continued to choke and suffocate the innocent who ended up facing its wrath.

Somewhere, in the midst of the chaos that was looming, there was a part of him that couldn't even find it within himself to be worried for Quasimodo. Not with all of the fire or the smoke. Frollo of course had been swift in making sure that the boy had been properly restrained prior to the events that were doomed to unfold in just a few hours.

Though the entire city of Paris was still very much continuing to burn, the Archdeacon didn't have his mind on anything else besides her. This had all been for her. Because of her. Now he was looking at a city that was about to be nothing but a pile of ash and charred remains …. and she had been the one to force his hand. The hand that could have been so kind to her…. had she only let it.

How many times had he selflessly offered to save her? How many times had he practically begged for her to accept his help? Each and every time, she denied him -- and often times -- mocked him for it. Now, she sat alone in a cell … waiting to meet her pyre - the very pyre she'd die on. She'd die knowing that her precious ex-captain of the guard would no longer know happiness or love - for he too was scheduled and ordered to be executed directly after the witch, Esmeralda. She could have just ….said yes. She could have just … loved him the way that he felt like he loved her. Had the love in question only ever been real…

With the silken red scarf that had once belonged to the gypsy girl now draped neatly across his lap, he grabbed it with his free hand before crumpling it up within his fist and lifting it slowly to his face. Shoving his entire nose into the crimson material that he had carried around with him for so long that he had nearly lost track of when it had become an actual habit, he inhaled the scent that had been trapped within its threads and fibers. Her scent. It was a scent he knew all too well because he had made it so. Drawing in another deep inhale, his hand finally dropped as he hastily shoved the material deep into one of the pockets of his robe - the place it usually stayed hidden.

He was sick and tired of being in agony. He wasn't going to be able to survive just by simply inhaling a scarf every single day - only desperately craving for it to be her.

Regardless of the gypsy finally meeting her death, none of it filled the Archdeacon with happiness. He would have much rather seen her saved. He would much rather have her alive. It didn't matter. She had made her choice a long time ago and as much as it brought him true pain, she had left him no other choice. He could have saved her … and now, he was going to be her un-doing. Standing up now, he decided to quickly exit his chambers, feeling like dawn was only going to come faster if he didn't go see her one last time.

[wingbladed]

will i ever tire of sora and ven’s potential relationship that we were severely deprived of in canon? signs point to no!