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]

Once the meeting has started in earnest, and Enjolras has tolerated Grantaire's monologuing for what seems an appropriate amount of time; he rises from his couch to mingle. He is not especially drawn to making speeches unless they are particularly called for, and that does not seem altogether necessary at the present. He will likely not speak on anything unless someone draws him into a conversation; but he is certainly attentive to the goings-on, though he is refilling his plate.

[timebethine]

Laertes eases in behind him, an arm around his waist, and leans up to kiss his cheek. "Is it all thou hadst dreamed it would be?" he asks.

[untamedantinous]

He shrugs a little and sets his own arm at Laertes' waist. "It is certainly different from anything like we had done at home, but that is to be expected. It is a start. I do not know how many people are enjoying themselves, particularly; but Grantaire does seem to be in fine form."

[timebethine]

"Ay, I know not whether I was right to steer the conversation toward politics. Lighter fare might have better suited our crowd."

[untamedantinous]

"It may have, at that." He shrugs a little and tries a small smile. "I appreciate the effort regardless, though."

[timebethine]

"Art well?" Laertes asks, a little more gently.

[untamedantinous]

"Yes, quite fine," with a nod. "It is -- making me miss them a little more than I anticipated, but as I said, it is early days. I think it may work well if we continue it."

[timebethine]

"Let us try, then--and perhaps the next will be a lighter affair."

[untamedantinous]

"Perhaps, yes." He leans down to kiss Laertes' cheek, gentle. "Thank you for coming; though I must apologize that the food is not up to your standards."

[timebethine]

"I like it," Laertes protests. "The cheeses are very good, and I've not yet learned to make a good sausage."

[untamedantinous]

"Neither have I, but I have never tried, either. Perhaps when Szarka gets a little older she might benefit from our mistakes, if we should learn it."

[timebethine]

"She'll love that," laughs Laertes. "Thou wilt be her favorite uncle, for introducing her to sausage."

[untamedantinous]

"You mean I am not already?" He looks mock-offended, but there's amusement definitely lingering in his eyes. "I shall have to have words with her."

[timebethine]

"Be not too stern. She's only small; she cannot help loving every new person best."

[untamedantinous]

"I shall not, she is the best and softest niece I could ever hope to have."

[ravkanwitch]

"Enjolras," Nina says, quite solemnly and without preamble, going up to him after her discussion with Laertes. "Are you the way you are because you're you or because you're French?"

[untamedantinous]

"The way I am?" He tilts his head curiously, taking a sip of wine. "What do you mean?"

[ravkanwitch]

"You," Nina says with a small, amused gesture. "Who you are as a person!"

[untamedantinous]

“I would say perhaps both? I am the way I am because my family made me so; but in truth, my mother is France.”

[ravkanwitch]

Nina's brows knit slightly. "The country?"

[untamedantinous]

"Yes. Of course, I am speaking metaphorically."

[ravkanwitch]

Nina drops the teasing for now because she is genuinely curious. She's heard so much about Paris and France, about pastries and wine and rebellion, and she's learned some of the language -- but she still feels as though she doesn't have a good grasp of the country itself. "Where I come from, there are stereotypes for those from Ravka, Fjerda, and everywhere else. What do you think makes someone French? Or... stereotypically French, I suppose?"

[untamedantinous]

"Mm. Well, if you would ask anyone else in Europe, they would say that the French have a tendency to fight quite often, whether it is among themselves or other countries. ....Typically the English, but Buonaparte was a special case, I suppose, in that he attempted to fight the whole of Europe and possibly the world."

[ravkanwitch]

Nina knows what Europe is; she’s looked it up and tried to learn it’s geography. It seems as though a lot of people are from there. She tilts her head. “Who’s Buonaparte?”

[untamedantinous]

"He is -- was, I suppose, as he died while I was a child -- a general who rose to power during the first republic and its fall, and claimed himself to be emperor of France. He intended on making all of Europe part of France." A beat. "He was not even properly from France, he was from a small island off the coast of Italy."