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

[untamedantinous]

“Truly?” There’s a teasing light in his eyes. “What if I asked you to recite Rousseau?”

[futaille]

Well, this should probably have been anticipated. But he doesn't believe in backing down, either. "I'm certainly capable of it. Are you asking me to recite Rousseau?"

[untamedantinous]

“Yes, I am. Perhaps —mm. The Social Contract?”

[futaille]

He rolls his eyes but it's with much more obvious fondness than it ever was in Paris¹. "Of course you would select The Social Contract. Perhaps one day you may yet surprise me and choose Julie. But very well. Would you have me start from the beginning or select a passage of my choosing?"


¹Or perhaps it was obvious there too if you knew to look.

[untamedantinous]

"Perhaps, yes. It was simply the first thing that came to mind. Select whatever you may like."

[futaille]

He nods. "Of course." At that, he leans back lazily in his seat and begins to recite.

"When one king dies, another is needed; elections leave dangerous intervals and are full of storms; and unless the citizens are disinterested and upright to a degree which very seldom goes with this kind of government, intrigue and corruption abound. He to whom the State has sold itself can hardly help selling it in his turn and repaying himself, at the expense of the weak, the money the powerful have wrung from him. Under such an administration, venality sooner or later spreads through every part, and peace so enjoyed under a king is worse than the disorders of an interregnum. What has been done to prevent these evils? Crowns have been made hereditary in certain families, and an order of succession has been set up, to prevent disputes from arising on the death of kings. That is to say, the disadvantages of regency have been put in place of those of election, apparent tranquility has been preferred to wise administration, and men have chosen rather to risk having children, monstrosities, or imbeciles as rulers to having disputes over the choice of good kings."

[untamedantinous]

Enjolras duly gives him a solemn round of applause. "Impressive. I knew you knew it, but I did not know the breadth of your knowledge."

[futaille]

He shrugs and waves a hand absently. "Even if I had not read the thing myself, I think it would have been hard not to have it memorized in full after even two weeks in your vicinity."

[untamedantinous]

"Oh, come, I am not so bad, am I?"

[futaille]

"Oh, I never said it was bad."

[untamedantinous]

"Of course you wouldn't."

[futaille]

He laughs a little. "Yes, yes, and this is where you call me biased."

[untamedantinous]

He shrugs. "It remains true."

[futaille]

"Well, if that's the accusation I'm to be stuck with, at least I can think of worse."

[untamedantinous]

"Yes, I -- well. There's no need for that."

[futaille]

"Perhaps that's the case, but what sort of a world would it be if everyone only did what there was need for?"

[untamedantinous]

"I see you are intent on speaking without cease, then," with some amusement.

[futaille]

"Aren't I always? It is generally one of my goals, although I will amend that to say with brief cessation for food and drink."

[untamedantinous]

"I have seen you be silent, from time to time."

[futaille]

"Why yes, you have seen me fall unconscious from drinking."

[untamedantinous]

"Mm, so I have. But other times as well."

[futaille]

"Oh." He pauses. "Ah, well. Yes, I suppose you have."

[untamedantinous]

He just raises his eyebrows and looks a little amused.