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

[summerdude]

Magnus crosses his arms again and glares at Lancelot -- not because of anything Lancelot's done, but because he's coming to a realization he doesn't particularly like. "Yeah," he says. "I have one more thing. But you can keep going if you have more."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He shakes his head, "I've nothing more, for now."

[summerdude]

"Okay," says Magnus. Extremely grudgingly, he says, "You're alright."

[lanselos_du_lac]

It might be the mead on top of the bourbon, but Lancelot cannot help but laugh at this. "The highest praise," his laugh and his voice are both genuine, even warm, and it's not meant as a tease. "I would never have thought it possible."

[summerdude]

It actually is extremely high praise, from Magnus Chase, given everything Lancelot represents, so he just nods, takes another swig from his mead, and slides back down from the counter. Then he gives Lancelot a shit-eating grin. "Good talk, asshole." If he sounds almost nice about it, well. Nobody else would possibly believe it, so it's fine.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Good talk, Magnus," leaning back against the counter to watch him go.

[summerdude]

"I am keeping my eye on you," says Magnus, hovering in the door. "Girl Code. Read those books." He raps his fingers on the door jamb, and then he's gone, without even flipping Lancelot off even once.

[vineleaves]

"Everyone's gotta learn somehow!" He shrugs. "There's methods -- well, there's also Methods -- people use to get better. Some even go to college for it. Don't worry though, I won't give you too much homework," he says laughing a little.

[timebethine]

"Oh, don't stint me, sir," Laertes laughs. "I will be as good a student as I'm able."

[vineleaves]

"We'll make a triple threat of you yet!"

[temnota]

Aleksander smiled wryly. "Sometimes we men of action fear the quiet that comes when there is nothing to occupy the mind. It can be hard to rest even when you know you should. But I imagine you both are aware of that."

[timebethine]

"Wonderful, I've oft been told that I'm at my best when I'm threatening."

[sagramore]

"I am, unfortunately, intimately familiar with that affliction."

[tallyyoungblood]

"We didn't have much choice. Special Circumstances is always trying to get us shut down. Our authorities. When I first got here I wasn't convinced this wasn't some weird prison they'd made for me. But everyone here is too ugly-minded for that. That's a compliment," she adds quickly.

[tallyyoungblood]

"Like augments after an operation? For reading?"

[ravkanwitch]

"Well, let's see what happens then," Nina says with a grin.

[ravkanwitch]

Nina nods slowly, understanding. For her, there's someone very specific she had been hoping for, though the longer she's here at the mansion without a hint of him (not even during visitor's day), the more she's resigned to the fact that she's said her final farewell. "I hope that for you as well. It was great to meet two of them when they were here."

[forgethertoo]

"No operation needed. Reading books alters your brain in a specific way that affects your reading experience." Her tone turns slightly wry. "I've learned that a lot of what is normal for literature in my world isn't the norm for everyone else here."

[futaille]

Grantaire is lucky enough that if he'd had one specific hope of a person, that person arrived before he could have even mustered hoping for it. But the rest would be marvelous additions too. He smiles a little. "That was a lovely day."

[timebethine]

"Godspeed." Laertes toasts her with his water, then turns to other conversations.

[aflashbastard]

"Hmm," Crowley says, with a hint of disapproval, eyeing the wallflowers and people just there to listen. "Depends on your definition of purpose, I suppose."

[peaklordshen]

"I suppose expecting people from a musical to be able to sing is like expecting people from Shakespeare to speak in iambic pentameter all the time," muses Shen Yuan. "The genre trappings are for the audience, not the lived experience of the characters. Hey, do you think you look like a specific actor that played you, or like a combination of every actor that's ever played you, or like the original writer of the musical imagined you in their head?"

[futaille]

"You know, I couldn't say. It's odd to think that I might be essentially stealing someone's face, though, so I'll lean towards the imaginings of the writer."

[wickedwit]

"What did you think dances were for, if not for the company?" He tilts his head, eyes bright and curious. "Let me guess. Your father let you learn gunnery in the hopes you'd be going to hunting parties and making political alliances. Dances, the domain of debutantes, would be for making alliances of marriage -- meeting pretty young girls from good families, the kind of company you like the least. You like raucous men who can fill a room with conversation." He nods over in Grantaire's direction. "Or philosophical men who can discourse on the new sciences and let you listen."

[wickedwit]

"You have my attention," Claudius says with a slow, impressed smile. "How does one depose a house?"