and so I'll read a book

[idealisme]

Who: Enjolras (idealisme) & open
What: Catch-all as Enjolras gets on with things while we're all on the station
When: July
Where: Thesis Station- the pods, wandering around, one training simulation
Warning(s): None.


A. Don't cry for me, France
...For he that thinks absolute power purifies men's blood, and corrects the baseness of human nature, need read but the history of this, or any other age...

[There's a man sitting in front of a pod, reading aloud from a book. Listen long enough, you'll hear it's some kind of political book and that the young man is reading with great interest. On approaching it's clear the man has bright, almost tear-filled eyes. He'll stop when he hears footsteps.

If the visitor doesn't speak first, Enjolras will begin:] Yes? May I help you?

B. I think I'll try defying gravity
[Finding himself floating up to the ceiling isn't really an inconvenience. What is a problem is Enjolras' book floating away from him and towards you. Stretching and straining doesn't help, he can't reach it.]

Please, will you take hold of that? [He's keeping his voice even, but there's something very worried in his look. This is something very important to him.]

C. The snow glows white on the mountain today
[It's actually a nice day in the snow training simulation. The sun's out and the wind isn't blowing too strongly. The perfect day to learn to buildn an igloo, right?

Well, right until you get smacked in the back of the head by a snowball. If you look around for the culpript you'll see only Enjolras, working determinedly on his fire.

Studying him very closely will reveal he's totally engrossed in his fire and oblivious to the world around him, but who wants to look closely when you've been attacked by a snowball!?]

D. I don't know any musical songs about malfunctioning doorways
[Having been on the station for a while since time was frozen, Enjolras feels fairly confident in getting around. If he thinks of it like a city rather than an inordinately large house then he has fewer problems.

Until he walks through a door and into what is not the observatory. It is, in fact, someone's personal rooms. Uh, sorry. Hope you're not doing anything particularly private.]

Comments

CLOSED TO LES AMIS

[idealisme]

[There's not much different to their living arrangements on the station than back in Wyver, except that here they don't have to pay rent. There are fewer books, fewer plants, and fewer bottles of wine- though Grantiare seems to be trying hard to make that up in record time.

The evenings spent in the common area of their rooms is similar, especially the way Enjolras and Grantaire have found something to argue about.

Sitting at the table, Enjolras has just about set his book down (and his pretense that he's still reading it).] What good is there in saying that men in a Republique are the same as those in a Monarchy? Of course men are the same! But the choices open to them are different.

[winecasks]

[ Grantaire paces slowly across the small room, one of those few bottles of wine in hand. He’s tried to limit his intake, but it’s difficult when he feels so trapped. There are no winding streets outside that door, no shops to pop into for the sheer enjoyment of it—and the doors have all been malfunctioning anyway.

Grantaire would likely sleep all of these recent days away if not for arguments with Enjolras to keep him awake. ]

Men are the same, Apollo, and thus those in a Republique are capable of making the same choices as those in a Monarchy. Who is stopping them? Surely a man with a heavy golden hat upon his head cannot prevent so much as you think he can. One might think to himself “today, I wish to take a different route home”. Who is there to prevent him, save for the road itself? A monarchy has no real say where his feet lead him.

[pluspetitpoete]

[Jehan has a headache.

He's trying to read, but his friends are -- well, doing this. As they usually are. And Jehan is all for a good debate, but this is frankly getting silly. And Jehan is getting very, very tired of it.]

If the two of you could be a little more quiet...?

[idealisme]

[Enjolras' friends are important to him and he does what he can to listen to them.

And he'll be quieter in just a moment-] And if there is a road he cannot take? There are no avenues for one to direct complaints of such a nature to a king.

[winecasks]

[ This may be one of the few things they agree on. Grantaire smiles gently as his pacing takes him past Jehan. ]

We can only attempt to do so, Prouvaire. You have my sincerest apologies.

[ When he returns to Enjolras, he pauses and drops his voice as well. A true attempt is being made here. ]

That is still a road, is it not? Perhaps I should like for it to rain tomorrow—if we were still in the city. There are no avenues I might have taken to complain directly to the weather. I should have liked for the dragon to put off its destruction of the city for another month. What road might one have taken then?

[ He isn’t smiling anymore. The dragon shook him up more than he cares to admit. ]

You dislike monarchs, but there is still a way to reach them.

[pluspetitpoete]

[He may well scream. Perhaps if he stares harder at his book, the words will enter his brain despite the noise.]

I don't think either of you are really listening to each other at the moment...? If you both calm down a bit and take a break, you might be able to see the other side of things.

[idealisme]

[The resolve to be quieter leaves his mind at that statement from Grantaire.]

Tch! If there were a way to reach them they would no longer be monarchs.

[winecasks]

[ Grantaire is torn. He could take Jehan’s advice. He cares for the other man’s opinion and in the end, it would likely turn out for the better, but he has Enjolras’ attention, and that still feels like such a rare thing. Although he glances over his shoulder to Jehan, he turns back to Enjolras anyway.

The smile is back on his face, soft but sardonic. His voice remains quiet. He did promise to make an attempt. ]

There are a handful of monarchs you could speak to here, directly. I have done so many times. Do you reject the idea? They remain monarchs regardless of where they are.

[pluspetitpoete]

... are they really still monarchs if they have nowhere to rule?

[No, no. He's not getting into this. He's going to READ HIS BOOK, with renewed determination.] Forget I said anything.

[idealisme]

[Enjolras accepts the contribution from Jehan while keeping his scowl fixed on Grantaire. In his mind he's speaking about the king and empress of this land, one of whom he has already spoken to.]

Really? Didn't Robespierre answer that in 1792? A man who believes himself a king is the enemy of a republique.

B

[monya]

[ at first, Morgana is stunned that he's being spoken to like a normal person despite being in his feline-shaped form? maybe Enjolras knew a cat like him, and is super comfortable with asking an animal to help him in rescuing what seems to be an important book. this is only obvious because he's actually being asked to help?

maybe he's just... a little crazy. or confused.

so after looking around somewhat confusedly, Mona can't help but tilt his head as to say

"are you seriously asking me?" ]

[idealisme]

[Paying attention to others when he's focused has never been one of Enjolras' strengths. He'd assumed there was a person and there wasn't-

He purses his lips when he realises it's what he assumes is just a cat- giving it a hard look as though the cat ought to have been a person who could help him.

But now believing himself alone, he allows his focus on the floating book to become less restrained. His brow creases and he bites his lip. There's nothing he can reach that'll help him grab the book that's drifting closer to the floating cat.]

[monya]

[ he should be so lucky that Morgana is no normal cat, just a cat-shaped not-cat that happened to get caught in the gravity-less area. should he play the benevolent god, or the malevolent trickster? it's all right there, almost in his paws.

but...

nah. it's fun to think about it, but he has no reason to kick the book farther away, and he's got some momentum on his side: a tail that allows him to push off and into the book where he can cling onto it with his body. even better is that he's able to angle himself toward Enjolras, so that at some point he'll just casually bump into the man.

mission accomplished? ]

[idealisme]

[Enjolras watches it happen with wide eyes, arms automatically rising to catch the cat and book as they float in his direction.

Purposefully float, he tells himself, mouth dropping open a fraction. Those were not the actions of a unintelligent cat. He is not a mad man, and so what he's seen must be real.]

Thank you.

[That's the polite thing to do, isn't it??? ]

[monya]

You're welcome.

[ and the equally polite reaction is what he says. what, he's not going to deny the man manners! who does that? not Morgana. besides, he just did him a favor and he might as well respond in kind. ]

A book is probably the last thing I expected to see.

[ reading just seems like a very odd thing to do at a time like this.



also he can talk but honestly is this unexpected at this point, what do cats do in space anyway ]

[idealisme]

[The cat will feel how Enjolras stiffens in surprise, his body tensing and eyes widening in silent shock.

It's hard to master himself, but really- he's just experienced a dragon destroying his city, why should a talking cat surprise him all that much?]

I requested it. It is from my home in Paris. One of the many works of a man named Voltaire.

[Is it polite to ask cats why they can talk? There's a debate raging inside Enjolras on this point.]

[monya]

[ now that's an interesting response, one that makes it hard for him to keep a smile off his face. it's been a while since he's induced something like that, meaning that wherever Enjolras is from is... a little more normal than expected. ]

Paris? Oh, I know what Paris is. [ and now Morgana's surprised, tail twitching. ] Voltaire though... was he an artist?

[ because then maybe Yusuke would know him!

then he squints. ]

Are... you an artist?

[idealisme]

I was a student.

[What is he now? Enjolras has not yet decided. There are no ecoles here for him to attend.] Voltaire was an artist of a kind. A writer of many things. This is his work Idées républicaines- his thoughts on a republic as the ideal form of government.

[The topic distracts him from the talking cat; it's apparent in the way he relaxes and his expression eases.]

[monya]

[ a student. well, that's at least one similarity he can find between the rest of his team and this book-carrying guy. ]

And I'm guessing... this is important to you.

[ not a question, but a statement! why else would Enjolras carry a book around like that? ]

Do you share his opinions? [ a low hum in thought follows his question, tilting his head in curiosity. ] I don't know much about governments.

[ obviously, it's because he's a cat and not because of his own fight back home. ]

[antleredcrown]

[It is Renly's personal rooms, in fact. He'd been relaxing with a book when his door had slid open, and he closes the book with a sigh.]

I thought they had fixed that problem. May I help you, while you're here?

[idealisme]

[This is not where Enjolras had meant to be. It takes a heartbeat to realise, and another still to realise who he's currently imposing on. The realisation is an unpleasant one, quite clear in the way Enjolras' expression narrows.]

No, monsieur. I do not lack anything.

[The way he turns his back to access the door controls may be rude- but not as rude as the way nothing happens. Hm.] Would you be so kind as to open the door?

[antleredcrown]

Oh. [It isn't as though he has any special passcode to open the door from the inside, it should work for Enjolras as well.

But Renly joins him at the door controls and -- nothing. Delightful.] If I could set you free, I would. But alas, it seems you might be here until the door decides it wants to open once more.

[idealisme]

[In lieu of answering Enjolras' lips press into an even thiner line. This is not where he wants to be.

But he remembers his manners, at least:] I apologise for the intrusion.

[antleredcrown]

It isn't your fault, there's no need to apologize.

Perhaps the fates, or whomever is in control of the grand design of this place decided to bring us together. [It's dry, accompanied by an arched eyebrow]

[idealisme]

The fates? That's superstitious nonsense. [humanity is in control of their fate, Enjolras believes it firmly.

He pats his breast pocket and scowls again to find he hasn't got a book on him. Damn.] The Orbiters here should be proof of that. Their power is not mystical. It is logical, following rules.