open: don't let the wine go to your brains

[untamedantinous]

It shouldn’t be this hard to prepare for a meeting. He’s done it countless times before. However, this time, it somehow is difficult. He’s never really had to set things up at times like this; and he knows as well as anyone else that he is not the best at social niceties. Granted, this meeting is in a much more well-appointed cafe than any he had ever been accustomed to holding space in in Paris. At least they have the benefit of a larger space. Consequently, Enjolras has spent much of the day of the eighth of Menestheus preparing, a little uncertain of how to plan a social gathering that is not immediately centered around planning a revolution. He is trying his best, at least.

Most of the tables and chairs have been pushed a bit more to the center of the room; the couch is arranged off to the opposite side. There are even various pillows scattered about, should anyone choose to sit on the floor. Arranged on a few of the larger tables and the counter there is a modest spread of food: of course, some of Laertes and Galahad’s pastries; but Enjolras has also procured what amounts to a few charcuterie platters: sliced sausages and meats, a selection of (mostly French) cheese, and various sliced loaves of bread and crackers are laid out for perusal, and spreads to go along with them. In an effort to provide multiple options of entertainment, Grantaire has set up a table somewhat near the food, with an assortment of wines and liqueurs. Off to one side, there are a few pots of brewed coffee, cream, sugar, and whatever else anyone might like to add to their beverage of choice. If anyone is drawn to the liquor cabinet, they will find three cups filled with various pieces of paper sitting atop it.

Enjolras himself is lingering on the couch with a glass of wine and some bread. He’s not sure how many people were even informed about this gathering, though he had done his best to advertise. If no one arrives then perhaps he will try again another time; but at least a few in attendance other than himself and Grantaire would certainly be welcome.

Comments

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot nods, glances down. He does not owe Magnus an explanation, his time, anything. Even so. Magnus is, he understands (he thinks), trying to help.

He doesn't look up when he responds. He's willing to be honest but any additional vulnerability will be too much. (And besides, Magnus has already seen everything -- nearly everything -- that's dogging him.) "When I first arrived here, I did not even understand that I had been harmed. No, rather, I did not understand that I had been wronged. It took many conversations with Galahad, Laertes, Sagramore, Susan, to come to this realization. It has not been easy."

"Being here, things are very different. At court, after... Elaine, the Queen's reaction, every day was like," he shakes his head, "I don't know. Being burned. There was no relief or rest, and I would not take any of Arthur's comfort. That made it very easy, very likely, for me to lash out so I understand your concern. But here, there has been rest. I'm not being wounded, freshly, every day. My friends, and even Galahad, have given me other ways to understand things. When it overtakes me now, it is not like rage. I don't want to describe it, but maybe you know."

[vineleaves]

He’s grinning now ear to ear. “Oh that pleases me greatly! I hope we can make it work then! Something nice to keep our time occupied!”

[summerdude]

Magnus fiddles with the label on his bottle of root beer. Mostly he still gets the anger, when he's, like, triggered or whatever. "Grief?"

[vineleaves]

“I like to think I’m a nicer person than how I’ve often been written.”

[sagramore]

"I hope you won't want for occupation regardless," unable to stop himself.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"No," quietly, "That's separate."

He pauses, and then decides to risk describing it. Magnus is listening, maybe he can make himself clearer. (It still matters little to him, ultimately, whether Magnus likes him or not. It doesn't really matter. But if Magnus will insist on coming at him instead of just leaving him alone, Lancelot may as well give him some chance at understanding.)

"It is like slipping outside of my body, standing next to myself, waiting for a blow to strike that doesn't land. Or-- the way it feels when one has a very bad injury and you have to stay alert anyway. It feels awful. I can't think. Once it passes, I'm exhausted."

[timebethine]

"I know not how I was written," says Laertes, with a light air of challenge. "Am I nicer? Or worse?"

[summerdude]

"Oh, yeah, the dissociation." Magnus crosses his arms again. "Like I said, those books should be helpful."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"The what?"

[vineleaves]

Oh no. No no no no no noooooo no no nooo nope nuh uh nope no thank you no. He can practically hear alarms going off in his mind, even through the slight buzz of the wine he has consumed.

“Well, ah,” Zeus help him get through this. “Granted we have just met, but I’d say you seem more or less as I would have expected. There are normally very sweet actors cast in your role.”

Maybe the compliment will deflect. He got out of the prophecy business long ago.

[timebethine]

"Ah," says Laertes. It makes sense--the better to make the audience feel for him, upon his inevitable death.

Setting that subject very deliberately aside, he asks, "Have you made friends here?"

[vineleaves]

"Oh yes! For the most part, I suppose, every family is going to have an occasional squabble." He shrugs before continuing. "Apollo's great, he and I actually lived together for a time. Best man at my wedding. Voice of an angel, that one. He can be something of a nag about chores, but we get along. There's Herakles, he's genuinely one of the most helpful people you can know. Secretly a fan of theatre too, though you wouldn't guess it from his reputation. I didn't meet him until relatively recently, you know, but he was so kind and, well, I wouldn't have been able to meet Shakespeare without him. Then there's Persephone! Oh, she's wonderful." He's going to gloss over the fact that she's not only his sister, but also aunt and cousin. "Shame about her commute, but boy is she great at parties, I've spent a lot of time around her and her mother both. And then --"

He cuts himself off. "Oh, but I don't want to bore you with this."

[vineleaves]

Thank heavens. Dionysus makes a mental note to find something to offer up to his father for helping get through that.

"I certainly have! Grantaire has been a better friend than I could have ever asked for, but there have been so many others who I've met so far, and most of them have all been quite friendly."

[futaille]

Oh, Grantaire is very much aware of the knotty nature of the Greek pantheon's family tree. He laughs. "I promise, I have not been the least bit bored. It's fascinating, hearing firsthand accounts of things you've only read of."

[vineleaves]

Oh. In that case. "Well I'll defer to your expertise on what might be a good way to spend one's time here."

[vineleaves]

"Any favorites? I could tailor this exposition better for your enjoyment."

[futaille]

"Aside from you?" He grins. "No, whoever you like best is fine. I'm hardly particular."

[timebethine]

"Ay, it's a friendly place, with much employment for a ready mind," says Laertes, who has never once found it boring here. "Have a care, though; with much time for thought comes much time for reflection. If there are sorrows in your past, you will have time to meet them."

[sagramore]

"I think I've told you enough for you to make your own inferences on that point," his dark eyes sparkling.

[vineleaves]

“Well we should all look on the bright side in that case, it’s cheaper than paying for therapy.”

[summerdude]

"Dissociation." Magnus says it slowly. "It's a--" he taps his temple a few times. "--thing."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Ah," with interest. Some of his caution ebbs off. "Susan called it a 'traumatic neurosis.'"

[summerdude]

Magnus shrugs. "Never heard of it."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Perhaps they mean the same thing. I've noticed terms change, over time. We had no word for it at all, in my time."

[vineleaves]

He steps close and leaves a kiss on Sagramore’s cheek. “Sounds lovely, my dear.”