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]

"So in that way, it's not really about you," Magnus allows. Then he frowns. "Or it's exactly about you, I guess, depending on how you look at it."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I think," gently and with as much respect as he can telegraph, "it is moreso about you."

[summerdude]

"Yeah, that's what I said," says Magnus, who hadn't, precisely.

[lanselos_du_lac]

A little shrug of disagreement, but his expression is mild. "So then. Do we understand one another better?"

[summerdude]

"Maybe," says Magnus. He crosses his arms. "It's your turn now."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"My turn for what?"

[summerdude]

"I mean, if we're asking questions and airing grievances," Magnus says. "I've been pretty relentless since you got here, on account of Girl Code and my personal issues." And also his general distaste for the man. "I do see that. But I'm not War Dude anymore, and so I guess that means mediation and conversation. So! It's your turn."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I don't think I have any grievances with you," thoughtfully regarding his bottle of mead. "As for questions -- why did you come to have this conversation, this evening?"

[summerdude]

Magnus squints at him suspiciously. "You don't?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Should I?"

[summerdude]

"I mean, yeah? I've been a total dick to you." Magnus, as the bigger man, is man enough to admit this. "Gods have put me on their hit lists for less."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He takes a drink. "It's true, you have not been... kind. Or polite. But-- as I've said. I do not need to be liked. I figured that you had your reasons. If you were trying to be supportive of Galahad, I cannot find fault in that."

[summerdude]

"Weird," says Magnus, not bothering to hide his surprise. "Anyway, I didn't mean to have this conversation with you tonight until we started talking, but you might as well thank me. That meeting was totally uncomfortable."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot laughs, "It was not very much to my tastes."

[summerdude]

"Between you and me, I don't really get the appeal. Getting together just to fight about things? Boring things? In Valhalla half the room would be dead by the time you got there." Which seems a more efficient use of time, if you ask Magnus. Fast-track to no longer fighting about old timey politics.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Grantaire was entertaining. But then that's usually true."

[summerdude]

"Yeah, sure." Magnus hesitates. "He was wrong about gods, but I guess he was just trying to stir up conversation."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Most likely," Lancelot agrees. He sobers a little. "I do thank you, though-- for hearing me out, and for being helpful even when you had no reason to be."

[summerdude]

Magnus gives him a quizzical look.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Another short chuckle, "I assumed your reading list, annoying as you were in presenting it, was meant to help?"

[summerdude]

"Oh, that. Yeah." Mostly it was meant to help the women of the world, but that does still technically count as help.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"And--" Lancelot hesitates briefly, "this conversation this evening has been helpful."

[summerdude]

"Helpful how?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I did not understand you-- I understand a little better, now," he finishes the mead off and sets the bottle aside. "I am glad you told me, as well, of what you saw when you healed me."

[summerdude]

Magnus is, it must be said, still squinting suspiciously. "I haven't told anyone else," he says. He said it before, but it seems important to reiterate. "That's your business."