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

[timebethine]

Everything Nina's just said is deeply alarming--but she doesn't seem to want to talk about it, so Laertes gamely continues, "At long last, Athens and Sparta come to talk of peace, and a beautiful nude woman called Reconciliation presides. Captivated by the sight of her, Athens and Sparta swiftly agree to the terms of the peace, and the war and the strike end with merrymaking."

[ravkanwitch]

"I'll have to see if I can find it a copy of it in the library! ...Who would you cast as Reconciliation?" She asks, mostly just to see how he'll react.

[timebethine]

Laertes goes crimson to his throat. "My lady," he manages, "I am but tasked with building the sets. Such matters as casting are beyond my purview."

[ravkanwitch]

Oh, that's a great reaction; almost as great as when Sagramore's soul almost left his body when she made a meat-related joke. "Of course," Nina says, solemnly and apologetically -- but with a hint of mischief. "Any interest in acting?"

[timebethine]

"I fear I have not the skill for it," says Laertes, just as apologetic. "I can read a part cleanly, but not make it blaze with life and feeling."

[ravkanwitch]

"Really?" Nina asks, doubtful. "I find that surprising. You have so much feeling and passion when you normally speak, it's hard to imagine it wouldn't translate to the stage."

[timebethine]

"Hast never heard me lie," Laertes laughs. "I can't speak with feeling or passion when I feel no passion myself."

[ravkanwitch]

"Laertes," Nina looks at him. "Do you really mean that? No passion?"

[timebethine]

"Not enough to make the show convincing."

[ravkanwitch]

"Oh-- for a second, I thought you meant you didn't have any passion for anything and I was about to find two slices of bread to turn you into an idiot sandwich."

[timebethine]

"Dear Nina," Laertes laughs, "pile me about with bread all thou likest, but never do me the insult of saying I want for passion."

[ravkanwitch]

Nina was about to let him have it¹ and all of that momentum needs to go somewhere, so she laughs as well. "I was concerned you had a very poor sense of self!"

¹Aggressively compliment him on how inspiringly passionate he is.

[timebethine]

"I'll admit it, but not so poor as that."

[ravkanwitch]

Nina lets out one last giggle over the situation, then takes a bite of one of her pastries, looking around. "What do you make of all of this?"

[timebethine]

"Alas, I fear it's not quite as lively as Grantaire and Enjolras might have hoped," Laertes admits. "To hear them tell it, their friends could scarcely be induced to stop talking; here, though, it seems that far more have come to listen--or even only to be present. Thy prompting on the subject of the play has been a welcome bulwark against silence."

[ravkanwitch]

"Maybe... that's just the nature of the French?" Nina ventures, though she's only just recently learned what France is.

[timebethine]

"Oh, I would be very curious as to Enjolras's and Grantaire's opinions on that."

[ravkanwitch]

"Maybe I should ask them," Nina suggests. "'Do you think your friends talk and debate more because they're your friends and like calls to like -- or do you think it's because they're French?'"

[timebethine]

"Go to," Laertes laughs. "Whatever thou learnest of the French by it, it will be a useful education."

[ravkanwitch]

"Enjolras," Nina says, putting on a serious expression. "Are you the way you are because you're you or because you're French?" She grins a little. "I think that would go over great."

[timebethine]

"The worst of it is, with that framing, he would be bound by honor to answer yea."

[ravkanwitch]

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

[timebethine]

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