So this isn't a one shot exactly. But I really enjoy this musical, and Hamilton obviously, so I wanted to continue so I could introduce Angel and Mimi at the very least. They're two of my favorites because how can you not love Angel? -C
Lafayette idly beat on the bucket, not quite sure what else to be doing. Nobody seems to be swinging by to drop money into his awaiting hands. However, that's not really the spirit of Christmas, now is it? He's playing just to have fun right now. Most people have retreated to the warmth of their homes sadly. They didn't want to stick it out, he supposes.
He gets into a firmer beat when he hears the first caroler of the night. His smile grows wider as he turns to face them. They look homeless, shivering and shaking. "Christmas bells are ringing."
"That they are," Lafayette pleasantly says to himself. The caroler keeps singing. They have a surprisingly clear voice. He would have expected a more...Sickly tone from the caroler. They clutch at their side as they have gotten shot or something. He's concerned, but he knows better than to go check it out. He's not an idiot. If he went, perhaps Lafayette would emerge with a shiny new stab wound.
All of the sudden, the song gets a little darker. "Somewhere else! Not here!"
It appears that some people just haven't been infected with the holiday spirit yet.
He's about to continue his drumming and his beats when he hears a cough. Lafayette immediately tenses. He really does not want to beat someone up with a ten-gallon pickle bucket, but he can!
The cough turns into a long groan. Okay then. It doesn't seem like he's going to get jumped any time soon. Cautiously, he slips the bucket under one arm and wields the drumstick with another. Beating someone up isn't on his agenda...He would much rather prefer to help them. But it's New York after all. Some strangers don't take kindly to the Frenchman attempting to help them.
The man in the alley is clearly unprepared. He's hunched over, face turning red, and his lips seem to have gathered the sickly, bloody spittle.
What else is there to do?
Lafayette raises his head as he approaches the man. "You okay, honey?"
The man glances around to make sure that he's talking to him. Then, he shrugs slightly and gathers his...Coat sleeve closer to him? Maybe there was a machine malfunction? Nah. Lafayette isn't an idiot. Clearly, the large man got jumped. It's impressive that they got anything off him. "I guess so? Probably?"
"They get any money?" inquires Lafayette, approaching a little faster. He starts fishing around in his pockets for something to clean up the large man. It would be terrible to just leave him a bloody mess. After all...The man is quite attractive.
Again, the man shrugs. "Nope."
"Isn't that good-"
"I have none anyway," he corrects Lafayette before he can say anything.
Lafayette sniggers slightly. "Americans. They do that damage to your coat or did you go for the punk look?"
"Oh, haha. I'm a better tailor than that," the man replies with a smile slipping across his face. "They purloined my coat...But they missed a sleeve so ha! Now that one arm of theirs can be cold."
"You show them, hon," Lafayette replies blithely, fishing in his pocket. Then, he pulls out an American flag.
The man's eyes narrow at it. "You that patriotic?
"Go bleed on America." The two of them exchange smiles as the man presses the flag against his bloodied knee.
He pauses as he wipes up the blood. He almost seems embarrassed as he ducks his head. "Thanks."
