Montparnasse dapped at blood splatters with a silk handkerchief, a disgusted scowl screwing up his usually appealing face, as if he could hardly believe that someone had had the gall to actually bleed on him. The disgusting animal. He pressed it back into a pocket, scowl straightening into a smirk of pleasure as he felt the weight of the coins as he moved. Ah, well. What were a few blood splatters between friends, after all?
He had been so preoccupied with preening at himself that he hadn't noticed that the rest of his gang had scattered- or that his surroundings had changed. More than changed- he'd never seen such a place before. And yet for all his shock and alarm, it all dissolved instantly at the sight of a familiar woman.
"Ah, 'Ponine, I thought I told you to run-" he accused her, striding forward to grab onto her arm. "Why do you so often refuse to obey? I only send you away because I care, my dear, and yet here you are, like a fool, my girl!" he told her. The words could have been out of genuine concern and kindness, but they were said with a definite hint of threat to his tone.