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

[socialjusticedragon]

"I've also my harness, if it should come to that. I cannot put it on myself, there are many belts and buckles, but I think between Enjolras and Galahad and I we could set it to rights." Temeraire has never been one for the more subtle side of politics, he leaves that to ambassadors and the admiralty, and does what he thinks is right, generally. "Of course," he adds. "Aside from --ugh, Caesar, I suppose, but his captain is an awful man so it is no surprise that Caesar is the same."

[wickedwit]

Momentarily Claudius covers his face with a long-fingered hand, ears burning bright red, before clearing his throat. "My apologies," he says, straightening. "I'm envisioning Galahad dragonback. It would be a thing to behold, to be sure. Now tell me about Caesar?"

[socialjusticedragon]

Temeraire looks briefly perplexed; what could be so distressing about Galahad riding him? "He is the son of Arkady and Wringe, and we brought his egg to Australia with us so as to help start an aerial corps there. Arkady was insistent that his egg should have a very rich captain, and I suppose that Caesar took that to heart; as he immediately enquired after Rankin's prospects as soon as he met him." If a dragon could roll his eyes, Temeaire would be.

"Rankin is --an awful man. He abused and starved poor Levitas, his old dragon, and did not even care when Levitas was dying; he was not even there until Laurence made him go."