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

[futaille]

Grantaire has made absolutely certain his normal corner table did not migrate towards the center and he is happily present at it, having grown progressively cheerful as more people filtered into the room, a bottle of wine open in front of him and a full glass in his hand. As he is accustomed, he is speaking with no regard as to whether or not anyone is actually listening to him, although it's certainly at an audible enough volume. "Friends and passing acquaintances, for I am a fortunate enough man to have no enemies, it is a joy and a delight to see this gathering unfold at last. That is not to say, of course, that we have lacked for gatherings in our wanderings here, and ones full of their own sorts of joy. We all know this and have benefited from it to some degree or another. It seems the greatest sort of event here is the sort that we originate ourselves, so to have another added to that illustrious roster, even if it is of a slightly different character than previous ones, can only be a benefit."

He lifts his glass of wine toward the ceiling. "That is not to malign our mysterious host spirits, of course, for that would be tempting the worst kind of fate, and they were generous enough to me recently that I am favorably inclined, although their taste in beverages can be suspect, not that that dissuades me from continuing to explore them." He gestures with his glass towards the cups on top of the liquor cabinet. "But that's another subject entirely.

"We have something of a symposium here, and although it won't be as famous as some, it is nonetheless an improvement as we are the participants and can avail ourselves of the refreshments and the remarks, and how remarkably refreshing that is. Just look around at our good fortune. Of course we have not discovered perfection, as that is unattainable, but we have good food, good drink, good company, and asking for more would be presumption of the highest order."

He is quiet for only the span of time it takes for him to have a drink. "But all of this is beside the point. This was organized, insofar as it's organized at all, on the foundation of being able to speak on anything and everything we can think of. And although speaking at length on this meeting itself certainly qualifies as 'anything', it also seems as if it doesn't take advantage of the opportunity afforded.

"Now, as many of you know, I am not a man of conviction, and if I make a bold statement, it is entirely possible that I will ultimately end up arguing even myself out of it. However, dissent forms the fertile fields of discussion and I do enjoy watching that flourish."

He grins widely, leaning back in his seat and has another long drink, refilling his glass as he continues. "So to that end, I offer the following assertions. How much I myself agree with them is debatable, as are most things, of course, but I'm certainly willing to argue any and all of them.

"First, despite my very own words earlier, tempting fate is not only not to be avoided, it's hilarious. Second, the fact that the rooms and grounds here are changing all the time is a net positive. Third, hauling elephants across mountain ranges is not only idiotic, it is so idiotic that dubbing someone who did it one of the greatest military minds of history is an extremely dubious proposition." He grins wryly at that one and takes another drink.

"Fourth, trying to find commonalities enough between the residents of this place to explain why we are the fortunate ones to be here is a fool's errand, and liable to fall into error. Fifth, every person has a food, a drink, and an animal that they most resemble. They need not actually like, or even have encountered, that food, drink, or animal. Sixth, progress in all things is like Zeno's story of Achilles and the tortoise. Seventh, existence may or may not be real but it doesn't matter if it is or not anyway, so the entire field of metaphysics is pointless. Eighth, there is no such thing as a god that always actually knows what they're doing. Ninth, avoiding pleasure just by virtue of the fact that it's pleasurable is absolute madness. Tenth and final for now, animals are objectively better than humans are, and I include worms and insects and such things in that count."

He takes another long drink and waves a hand airily. "Discuss."

[sagramore]

Sagramore obviously was never going to miss this -- for all he might have sounded begrudging to Mothwing, his favorite people are going to be here, and Enjolras has been working hard on his first meeting, probably, and needs some positive reinforcement or something.

"Are you just orating generically?" he asks, as he comes over to Grantaire.

[futaille]

He laughs and takes a drink. "I'll have you know I made several actual points there."

[sagramore]

"Mmm. Are you all right, by the way? I was worried about you after last week. You can't imagine how much liquor I had to give to a seven-year-old."

[timebethine]

"Put it to the proof, then," says Laertes, lightly heckling. "What food, drink, and animal do I most resemble?"

[futaille]

And there's a grin and a quick answer. "In my estimation, pain au chocolat, champagne, and a honeybee."

[timebethine]

"And thy reasoning?"

[summerdude]

"Okay, I'll bite," Magnus says. He really only intends to be a wallflower -- he only came because he promised Enjolras, and since it's late, he's already feeling a little stir-crazy -- but Grantaire has him curious. "What's my food, drink, and animal?"

[futaille]

He leans back in his seat, mulling it over. "Hm. Spice cake, lemonade, and a squirrel."

[summerdude]

Magnus blinks. "Why?"

[untamedantinous]

Should Enjolras manage to catch Magnus’ attention a bit later, he will give him a brief shoulder clasp and a smile. “Thank you for coming. I am aware this is…likely not something that holds much interest for you; but I appreciate your presence.”

[untamedantinous]

"Alright," with some tired amusement. "Since I'm certain everyone else is asking: may I have elaboration on your fifth point for me?" That is all he's willing to indulge in at this point.

[futaille]

"I did make several other points, you know. Bread. Coffee. Swan."

[vineleaves]

He's enraptured.

"To point five, I think I might already have some ideas, but if it's different from the obvious please enlighten me." A few thousand years of being associated with the same things, no matter how obvious, has him curious if there's anything else.

"And to point... sorry, I lost track. The one about gods. You're correct, of course, if anyone tells you different they're wrong. I have it on good authority."

[futaille]

"It's nice to be dubbed correct by an expert. As for point five, if you'd like, I can try and deliberately choose away from the obvious."

[aflashbastard]

Crowley appears like a man on a mission, drink in hand. "Who's the target?" is all he asks Grantaire.

[futaille]

He looks thoughtful for a moment and then grins. "Temeraire."

[wickedwit]

Claudius is struck by a wave of fondness so fierce and so (objectively speaking) absurd that it makes him he realize he loves Grantaire. No other emotion but love can explain it. Perhaps some of it is admiration for Grantaire's ability to craft a speech simultaneously so inviting and so contrarian. Whatever its aim, Claudius respects skillful speechcraft. But he also feels like he's discovered another secret ideal of Grantaire's: Grantaire values discussion more than he values being right or wrong, so he can speaks all sorts of nonsense, because all that matters is giving his friends and acquaintances the right to speak their minds.

Claudius wants to start an argument with Grantaire about it, because Grantaire would surely object to having another ideal assigned to him. He shakes his head and, rather than confess his love to Grantaire right then, says, "You know, you've a point. Back at the very beginning, when you said the greatest event is the sort we originate ourselves. Do you think it's more entertaining to our hosts when we come up with our own ideas to congregate, or when they conspire to control events to bring us together?"

[futaille]

He laughs, a grin spreading over his expression. "Easy enough. I think. It would almost have to be when we come up with our own ideas. Because they're going to conspire to bring us together anyway, so when we come up with things independently, it's just adding to their entertainment, so it would by definition have to be more. Unless you mean each individual event, in which case my answer would be the opposite as they can tailor those to their own very odd tastes."

[mothwingofriverclan]

Mothwing, back at her cat height, leaps onto Grantaire's table in order to be able to see and hear him properly.

"I'm not sure animals are better than twolegs," she says drily. "Cats haven't invented pancakes."

[futaille]

Grantaire looks a bit surprised at the sudden appearance of Mothwing but smiles easily at her point. "Ah, yes, we do have at least some compensation in our cooking to make up for our poorer digestive capabilities. You like pancakes, then?"

[peaklordshen]

As soon as Grantaire moves from talking about talking to making actual assertions, Shen Yuan whips out his little notebook and writes them down, and then sits, considering them, and ranking them by things he has a quick and immediate reaction to and things he has a longer and more complicated reaction to. He clears his throat, and then counts on his fingers:

"On one - can something not be both hilarious and to be avoided? On three - who the fuck was moving elephants across mountains? On five, you're right, and we should compare our conclusions about animals. On ten, you're right, but monsters are objectively better than both humans and animals. Oh, and to loop back on seven, I think it's incredibly bold of you to assert the pointlessness of metaphysical discussion in the middle of a self-professed pointless list of points." He sets his notebook down. "Reserving two, four, and six for discussions of their own. And you're just right about eight and nine, so we can ignore those."

[futaille]

Grantaire is delighted by engagement with several points at once so he immediately begins his rejoinders, ticking off on his fingers as he completes each point. "Why would you want to avoid something hilarious? Hannibal of Carthage against Rome during the Second Punic War. We can absolutely compare thoughts on animals. I have not had the pleasure to meet any monsters so can make no judgments there. And my assertion may be bold, but it isn't incorrect."

[new_inglewoodblues]

After Shen Yuan destroyed her nest, Ragnelle has been staying inside. She needs to find another outdoor place to live in, but she's too slow-blooded to construct one by herself, now that she's back in her own body. So, for the meantime, she's in the mansion (and crabby about it).

She's been visiting the cafe periodically to steal all available pastries, and when she sees the commotion going on now she pokes her head inside.

"Mary! An thou wilt argue the merit of worms and little crawling things thou might yet be worth knowing."

[futaille]

He shoots Ragnelle a grin. "Well, I don't get into lengthy conversations with them, but I can easily admit they do what they do to perfection."