Jean Prouvaire's Journal|
[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 4 most recent journal entries recorded in
Jean Prouvaire's LiveJournal:
|Friday, September 12th, 2003|
Seeing as I've other games to deal with right now and there's no sign of Jehan being needed I think it best if the two of us take our leave. So...bidding you all adieu then. Had fun while I played! Good luck!
|Friday, June 27th, 2003|
| The week's classes were over and Jehan looked to the weekend with relief. The past week had been interesting to say the least. Interesting, meaning more assignments than he had known what to do with. Finally though it seemed as if he would have time both for sleep, indulging his muse and a meeting of les amis. First thing was first, he decided, and stepped over to his desk, took down a quill, and began to write. Soon the room was filled with soft scratches of his pen, and Jehan was off in his own little world once again... Current Mood: working
|Sunday, June 22nd, 2003|
Young buds peaked out from thier bed of soil, and Jehan smiled, pleased by the sight of them. Soon the flowers would grow strong and proud, unfurling glorius colors to the world. Perhaps he would write a poem about them later, the strange mysteries which caused a single seed to turn into something so beautiful so wonderful, but for now, there was a history essay to tackle, and he was due to meet his friends fairly soon. Sighing, as he regretfully denied his muse, Jehan, returned to watering his plants and moving back to his desk picked up his book, paper and a quill and began... Current Mood: working
|Friday, June 13th, 2003|
A quiet evening in his rooms. The peace of a Paris evening after a long day spent in classes, True, Jehan had a paper he ought to be writing, and a long chapter to read for Literature. He would get to those later, he supposed, but now...
Now the time was his, as he felt himself carried away. It was as if everything faded in these moments, when he brought his flute to his lips, and closing his eyes, became lost in melodies. Haunting they were, evoking places both near and far away, memories of the past, and questions about the future.
It was Jehan's song, not only for Paris, and it's people, but for himself. In those late moments of twilight, as the first white diamonds began to sparkle in the sky, he was the song...and that, was all that mattered. Current Mood: enthralled