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

[onthewillowsthere]

Another young blond man enters. He doesn't have to talk to anyone to use the library, probably. It's fine.

When he sees Enjolras he stops and looks at him, a long, expressionless look as he absorbs him.

[wickedwit]

The newcomer looks familiar, but not overly so. Wistfully, Claudius thinks the gold of his hair resembles Galahad's -- with warmer tones more like the sun, than like Galahad's pale moon-brightness. This unfortunate love affair, Claudius thinks, really does threaten to turn him into a poet. But the longer he lingers on melancholy lines, the more likely he'll be to do something self-destructive and foolish. Claudius needs the company.

And so he approaches the stranger¹. "Hello, there," he says, summoning up a casual smile. "I don't believe we've meet. I'm Claudius."

¹ As the typist pulls back from the dramatic irony lever.

[futaille]

Time to find Grantaire, sure, but then, no time like the present.

Very much not a hallucination, he walks into the library, spares a single glance at what books Enjolras has sprawled over the table, rolls his eyes, unsurprised, and makes a beeline to a chair along the closest wall where he sits, saying nothing, but watching.

[az_fell]

It will most likely surprise no one to know that Aziraphale is a frequent visitor to the mansion library. It's both mildly discomfiting and a pleasant surprise to find himself sharing the space today. (This is not his bookshop, and he probably can't start trying to divert all visitors from its doors.¹)

He pauses and takes note of the rather industrious pile of books on display. "Well, hello there."

¹Or can he...?

[timebethine]

Today, Laertes has set aside all of his recently-acquired pursuits in search of stories. He's observed that his diction is out of joint with everyone else's here--even Claudius has been here long enough that he chooses his words in an easy, casual way that harmonizes with the speech of a Janet or a Nina or a Sagramore. Perhaps, if he makes a study of how authors and playwrights compose ordinary speech, Laertes will develop the same careless facility with language.

He nods to the blond man as he pokes through shelf after shelf of flimsy paper books, their covers depicting men and women caught in fraught erotic clinches. These, he discards immediately; surely the dialogue will be no more natural than the poses.

[rememberettersberg]

A teetering pile of books enters the room, followed shortly by the man transporting them. Nightingale nods a casual acknowledgement in the direction of the newcomer and sets to reshelving.

"If this place didn't continually twist itself into new shapes, I'd begin to worry that we'd run out of bedrooms," he remarks.

[ravkanwitch]

Nina peeks into the library and is surprised to see him upright and reading. He was in a terrible state yesterday.

"Hello," she says, stepping inside. "Enjolras, is it? Are you feeling better today?"

[sporesprouter]

Tress has wandered into the library with a systematic plan to find something, but that something wasn't exactly another person there, especially one she hasn't yet seen, so her train of thought gets temporarily derailed when she sees Enjolras there.

"Oh. Hello. Welcome?"