un: someday, life will be fairer (open)

[untamedantinous]

The library is currently occupied. To be more precise, it is occupied by one young blond man, settled in at a large table with books spread out around him. Off to the side, there is a glass of wine, half-drunk. He looks much better than he had upon his arrival, no longer dirty and bloodstained, but still a bit fragile. Some of the marble that usually adorns his countenance has been chipped away, and he is not certain if it will come back.

He is not certain of many things, here in this strange new not-afterlife, but he is certain that both the writings of Rousseau and Voltaire exist. He has the proof, right here next to him, old friends that he is relieved to have in hand. (Someday he'll find his own copies of them, maybe.) The young fellow that had healed him -- Magnus, wasn't it -- had mentioned France becoming a republic. So in lieu of talking to people, Enjolras has chosen to dive into history books and catch himself up on the last 200 or so years.

(He'd rather read than face what lies before him here. He's not sure what to do, and he doesn't like being purposeless. There is yet time to talk, time to find Grantaire, eventually, but he doesn't want to think. Not right now.)

Comments

[untamedantinous]

This man, too, looks familiar to Enjolras. Perhaps he saw him when he arrived, but the of unaccustomed alcohol and then the sadly necessary laudanum has turned most of that day into a haze. (The laudanum, thankfully, is now set somewhere safe; as Enjolras did not quite like how it made him feel, nor did he trust himself, really, to dose himself properly without Combeferre's advice.)

"I am Enjolras," he replies, with a brief, courteous smile. "And I am ...new, I suppose."

[wickedwit]

Claudius takes a moment to consider the state of Enjolras, with his wine half-drunk and his adrift look, and the faint flicker of his smile. Perhaps God (he thinks wryly, because Claudius can't keep the thought away) has stopped talking to this man, too. But he has to stop making comparisons, and focus on the person in front of him.

"It's a disorienting experience," Claudius says with some sympathy. "Temeraire and I have been here the longest, and every time I think I've adjusted to this place, some fresh absurdity or bewitchment happens. How are you taking it so far?"

[untamedantinous]

Enjolras would say, if he asked, that God has never talked to him, and who is to say that God even exists, properly? Not him, not when one looks at the state of the world and its people. But that is another thing entirely, and perhaps another time, Enjolras will explain deism to Claudius.

For now, he takes a sip of his (mildly watered-down) wine, and turns his attention to Claudius. "It is--" He hesitates, swirling his wine about his glass for a moment, and continues. "Yesterday, I was poorly, and so did not do nearly as much exploring as I might have. I am still getting accustomed to everything. ....It is disorienting, indeed, to be somewhere that certainly is not an afterlife. But there are many distractions." Which he is grateful for.

[wickedwit]

Enjolras has, quite incidentally, provided an excellent segue into God -- or perhaps it's simply that Claudius thinks about God a great deal¹. "Well, you're doing better than I was," he says with an ironic smirk. "When I first arrived here, my first thought was that I'd found myself in purgatory, about to have my soul scoured of wickedness. But then I met some decent people -- far more so than myself -- and gave up the idea. Now my closest companions are upstanding heathens and compassionate blasphemers of all kinds."

¹ Too much, some might say.

[untamedantinous]

"I do not recall my first thought," he replies, astonishingly candid for him. "As I said, it was --quite a lot to deal with, and before, I had not slept in some days, and so things got..." He makes a little 'so-so' motion with his hand. "A bit hazy. I do recall, however, that a young man gave me some news which I was very glad to hear, and so I find myself doing research here." He is very pointedly attempting to keep the topic away from God, it is not one he chooses to visit very often, at least, not since his younger days. "I'm afraid my only close companions at the moment are Voltaire and Jean-Jacques."

[wickedwit]

"Introduce me to Voltaire and Jean-Jacques, then," Claudius says with a smile. He sits on the edge of the table, hopeful to get to know this Enjolras without falling back into wistful comparisons. "Are those the ones you're researching?"

[untamedantinous]

"Researching?" He's warming to his subject, now, eyes alight and smiling. "Ah, no, they are dear friends from home." He taps the books beside him. "Philosophers, poets, students of mankind and liberty. If you've a mind for philosophy, I will happily pass them over to you, as I could go on and on and bore you to tears, I'm certain." A pause, to sip at his wine, and he carefully sets it aside.

"No, I am looking into the future of my country. The young man had said that the republic my friends and I fought for has come to pass, where he is from, and so --I could hardly help myself, you see, I needed to know."

[wickedwit]

"So you have outpaced me," Claudius says with an impressed laugh. "I tried to look up the fate of my country, too, but couldn't parse the history. Have you had better luck, at least in finding a relevant tome?"

[untamedantinous]

“Some,” he admits, and gestures at the books surrounding him with a smile. “Enough to know that Magnus was correct, and it does indeed come sooner than we had hoped. There is much to catch up on, however, so I haven’t gotten all too far. Perhaps I should switch to coffee, and stay here longer.” Or perhaps not. He doesn’t need to be awake for three days again any time soon. “Where is your country, if I may ask?”

[wickedwit]

It's good news for someone's country, Claudius thinks, for all that he's resolved to leave the election in Gertrude's capable hands and hope. "Denmark," he answers. "In my place and time, it was a country overenamored with its own Viking legacy, with a war-like king who filled the kingdom's coffers with tribute from any nation he could conquer. Often personally -- his most celebrated victory was single combat with the king of Norway, which caused no end of diplomatic issues down the line. I hoped to learn if one day my country becomes a more peaceable place." He sighs. "I prefer peace. That doesn't mean I can't support your fight, however. I'm happy the change you sought comes to pass."

[untamedantinous]

“Ah.” He tilts his head, listening attentively. He doesn’t really concern himself with the affairs of other nations; France is, of course, his first priority. “A number of my friends would prefer peace as well; but sometimes in order to have peace it is an unfortunate necessity for battles to be fought.”

[wickedwit]

Claudius laughs. "I'm trying to strike the right balance between dancing around the point, and telling people this first thing to drive them off ... but it does seem relevant. I did kill a king. So the question of when violence is an unfortunate necessity is very near to my heart. Do your philosophers offer any enlightenment on that?"

[untamedantinous]

Oh, and his eyebrows raise ever-so-slightly at that. "I cannot say I have done the same, that was a revolution earlier than our revolt." He shrugs. "Not as such. Rousseau and Voltaire, fond though I am of them, did not have much to say on that subject. Rulers, yes, but not violence to that degree."

[wickedwit]

“Nonetheless, it might suit me well to study other philosophies of rulership,” Claudius muses. “The only solid opinion I’ve come to is that the absolute power of monarchy creates more problems than it may be used to solve. Regrettably. If I wished to read more, where would you recommend I begin?”

[untamedantinous]

“The Social Contract is a particular favorite of mine.” He rummages in his pile of Rousseau and offers it, with a small smile. “Of course, Jean-Jacques was quite prolific, but that does seem a good starting point.”

[wickedwit]

Claudius takes it with a smile in return, a small nod of thanks. "Then I think I'll start here and now," he says. "Do you mind company when you read?"

[untamedantinous]

"Certainly not, I --at home, I used to read quite often in a cafe that was far noisier than this place. It is almost too quiet, here. And I do not know how much I am really reading, anyhow." It's fine. He's been reading most of the morning, after all, and there is time enough to introduce himself. (He is not so easy with words as some of his friends, but at least he knows what he's talking about in regards to philosophers and kings.)

[wickedwit]

In truth, Claudius rarely reads with people, but he grew up trying to hide it in case someone found what he read heretical. He and Laurel did read together, sometimes, because of their shared space. Now Claudius understands how it can be too quiet to read, when you're used to another presence, another voice in the room with you. "Then hopefully you'll be all right if I occasionally look up and pester you with questions," Claudius says. "And you can tell me your own thoughts. This is your dear friend Rousseau I'm reading, after all."

[untamedantinous]

Enjolras likely wouldn't care if it was heretical, he probably reads things that could be called so frequently. "Ask away," he replies, settling back with his glass of wine and one of the history books. "I am always willing to further education."

[wickedwit]

Claudius sits back¹ and opens The Social Contract. True to his word, he will occasionally look over, and toss Enjolras a question about the notion of legitimate governance or the nature of sovereignty as outlined by Rousseau.

¹ Still on the table, like a proper bisexual who knows there are chairs he could be sitting properly in and refuses.

[untamedantinous]

Enjolras will answer as best he can, in that case; perhaps throwing in a few quotations from Rousseau's other writings. Naturally, he has a good portion of them memorized. By this point, he's finished his current glass of wine and refilled it again, raising the bottle at Claudius with an enquiring look, if he's paying attention.

This? Now this almost feels like home, or as close to it as he's gotten here. (Even with the current company, still undecided on.)

[wickedwit]

That silent offer makes Claudius smirk. It's a welcoming enough gesture, so he asks, "Is there a glass for me, too?"

[untamedantinous]

"I suppose I might find one, yes." He'd probably brought a second one in at some point. Perhaps it was earlier, when he'd gotten to get that second bottle of wine. Ah, yes, there it is, and he pours a glass for Claudius, bringing it over when he's through.

"I hope it is to your tastes, I wasn't particularly paying attention when I grabbed it."

[wickedwit]

"I won't criticize wine when it's poured for me," Claudius says, gracefully accepting the glass. "Not unless I'm asked to. Then I'm scathing." He gives Enjolras a little half toast of thanks and sips.

[untamedantinous]

He nods and settles back in his chair, idly opening his book again. "How do you find Rousseau, so far?"