six: silence before jean-jacques (open)

[untamedantinous]

A wildfire burns quickly and hot until it is extinguished. In some cases, Enjolras' passion has been likened to a fire. Here at the mansion that fire tends to be mostly banked; but the embers remain. It is easy enough to stir it into wakefulness; and Enjolras' dreams of late have done just that. (They have passed, now, but the burning need to do something remains.) So he is in the café as he usually is, sat at a large table with various piles of writings strewn about.

Off to the side, one might note a flier that is still obviously a work in progress, set off to dry a bit while he works on something else. The general air of disarray suggests that he has certainly been here for hours at least, though he does look a good deal happier than he had the last time he had taken refuge in the café. The warmth and fire of his passion has awoken another familiar friend: writing like he's running out of time.¹ It is in truth very much what he would be doing in Paris, and there is a relaxed pleasure that is evident in the way he sits, in making himself feel useful even if it is for goals of his own making.

He has clearly been at it for some time, fingers inkstained and coffee grown cold beside him. There is a copy of The Social Contract open in front of him, and every so often he makes a thoughtful noise, writes a few things down, then turns to the next page. It is truly only a thought exercise that he's working on, a passing fancy to abridge a work that he is already intensely familiar with; but he appreciates the challenge. It is entirely different from the other, more private writings he has been working on, which are kept in a small notebook currently buried under all those sheets of paper. Regardless, the work pleases him --though the coffee does not. He picks his cup up to take a sip, makes a face, and rises to go start himself another.





¹ Wrong musical, same vibes.

Comments

[untamedantinous]

"Yes," he says plainly. "I am. --Not as such. We were -- most all of us were law students, of course from different backgrounds; but we all shared a common goal. Not a one of us would have brought someone to the group if they had not, ah -- seen the drift of their political opinions."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"And if by 'any and everything,' you rather mean that this meeting is to be purely political discourse, do you have that same conviction of all here?"

[untamedantinous]

"No." He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I do not intend for this be purely political discourse, there is little need for politics here. No matter what I would prefer to speak about, I know well enough that most people -- dragons, cats -- beings, I suppose-- do not share my passions." <sup>1

1</sup> Well. The dragon does.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Then, again, we land on the issue of clarity and topic when bringing together a group that do not already share a common objective," Susan says, a little tartly.

[untamedantinous]

“There does not need to be a topic, in my opinion. But I am certain you will give me yours in due course.”

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Did I not already make it clear?"

[untamedantinous]

"Indeed you did, mademoiselle. Is there anything else you would care to add?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan regards him for a long moment, drumming her fingers on the table and idly wondering if she might find a way to make him cry. It's been ever so long since she's truly been in her element, and she would so like to bring Janet a tale of a triumph. In truth, she's a little offended that he seems to be brushing off her genuine and sage advice. She could offer to make it a competition, and come up with a better advertisement than Enjolras and muster a greater crowd, perhaps? But she has no interest in such wastes of time, so she sets the thought aside.

"You haven't got a speck of interest in what attracts people to a space beyond the most central basics, have you?" she asks, curious enough to set aside her idle considerations of sparking some sort of reaction. "No affinity for ambiance or mood."

[untamedantinous]

He would have no interest in that as well, he really only had an intent of gathering everyone in the same place as an effort for them to get to know each other better. There is no desire to compete at all. He purses his lips a little, and takes a sip of coffee. "I am not a polytechnicien, mademoiselle, nor am I an architect. I have interests in other areas, I do apologise if they are not to your liking." He doesn't sound as if he cares, particularly, but he is at least being polite about it. "So long as there are walls and warmth from the elements, I must confess myself content. There are those that do not have even that, and I would rather concern myself with their plight than such matters as whether or not there is a portrait on a wall, or the phrasing is incorrect in a handbill."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Abruptly, Susan is unfathomably bored. She stands. "I rather don't see what you can do about the plights of the destitute homeless in a place with no access to any other world, where there is room enough for everyone and the only people who sleep in the snow do so because they want to," she says, a little sharply. Men! Why are they all - well, almost all - so useless and self-centered? "It seems to me that focusing on matters you quite literally cannot affect anymore is a fool's errand, when instead you might focus on other concerns that are actually addressable here, with the people within. To wit: sparing a thought for the comfort and needs of the people who are actually here. If you wish to create a space that is open and inclusive, you might possibly consider ensuring that it is inviting to more than just your own simple self."

She pushes her chair back into place. She shall make tea in the kitchens. "Good day, sir. Best of luck with future endeavors."

[untamedantinous]

He inclines his head and takes another sip of coffee, rising to give her a short bow. If he is bothered at all by this turn of events, it certainly does not show in his voice or bearing, as smooth as marble. “The house itself does that for us, I do apologize that my tastes are not to your own. Have a pleasant day, mademoiselle. If you’ve any other suggestions, you do know where to find me.”

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan sighs huffily. The house absolutely does not address the needs of all its inhabitants! If it did, there should be no need for psychoanalysis! It would be as miserable as the Aslan's Country that Lucy described! What is the point of anything if you cannot work actively to improve your environment?

She'd thought Enjolras an interesting young man during their first meeting, but she's been wrong before and this shan't be the last time, either. The least he could do would be to look interested in debating the issue! And why must men be so insistent on apologizing for things that absolutely don't matter? Tastes needn't align; her point was merely that assuming one's tastes to be universal is a recipe for disaster!

She strides off with no further acknowledgement.