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Catchall
Who: Grantaire & OPEN
What: Catch-all for January
When: January. Just January
Where: Mostly Wyver with an Olympia option
Warning(s): N…one…? He’s a trainwreck but he’s harmless
1. Obligatory drinking prompt [Wyver]
[ Grantaire isn’t blind to the sudden shift in atmosphere within Wyver. Even within an otherwise friendly establishment, he’s watched from behind wine glasses and bottles as more than one patron is refused service for what seems to be no particular reason. It strikes him as odd, but he his head is always an impossible tangle of thoughts and words, and the reasoning has gotten caught up within them entirely. He hadn’t chosen a ribbon on Gala night, so he remains a welcome customer despite his fondness for spouting nonsense.
Grantaire doesn’t have a particularly strong stance on anything at all, but he is a friendly soul. To the next person who is turned away by the bartender, Grantaire turns, gently grabs hold of them by their arm, and pulls them down to sit across from him. He smiles, almost obliviously, as he pours wine into a glass from a bottle he’s purchased himself, and then forces the glass into his new companion’s hand. ]
There you are, my friend. Now I’ve served you myself, and your supposedly unwelcome money didn’t need to be spent at all. I don’t suppose any complaints can be made about that, do you?
2. Around Wyver
[ Though Grantaire spends a great deal of his time drinking, he makes a special effort to learn the city. It has its quirks and its history, even if the native citizens strangely can’t seem to recall it. Throughout the day, you can find him at various points throughout the city—surprisingly doing something productive. He’s acquired a sketchbook and charcoal, and he seems to be attempting to create sketches of parts of the city that he finds interesting, though he seems upset. He furrows his eyebrows at his paper more often than not, marks through pages entirely, runs his fingers through his hair in frustration and mumbles quietly to himself. ]
Hideous. Distorted perspective. Delusional Grantaire, they’ll say. He sees the world just as twisted as he claims it really is.
[ If you were to peer over this shoulder, you might see that they’re not that bad. He’s just out of practice and expecting miracles.Is that anime? ]
3. Another drinking prompt because this sad sack of shit [Olympia]
[ Grantaire’s frustration with himself has caused his spirits to sink, while his desire to drink has skyrocketed. He wonders vaguely if Olympia wine is of superior or lesser quality in comparison to Wyver wine, and in a thoughtless decision, he decides to put it to the test.
He isn’t as familiar with Olympia. Unwilling to leave Enjolras, the only friend he has left from the barricade, Wyver has become his new home, but he makes his way to the other city regardless.
The last of his money is spent rather quickly, and his glass drained even more quickly--more than once. Feel free to find him slumped over a table in the corner completely conked out. It's not a good look. Give him a little shake? ]
4. Wildcard
[ Just…anything. Or grab me at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
muttonchops for a top level. ]
What: Catch-all for January
When: January. Just January
Where: Mostly Wyver with an Olympia option
Warning(s): N…one…? He’s a trainwreck but he’s harmless
1. Obligatory drinking prompt [Wyver]
[ Grantaire isn’t blind to the sudden shift in atmosphere within Wyver. Even within an otherwise friendly establishment, he’s watched from behind wine glasses and bottles as more than one patron is refused service for what seems to be no particular reason. It strikes him as odd, but he his head is always an impossible tangle of thoughts and words, and the reasoning has gotten caught up within them entirely. He hadn’t chosen a ribbon on Gala night, so he remains a welcome customer despite his fondness for spouting nonsense.
Grantaire doesn’t have a particularly strong stance on anything at all, but he is a friendly soul. To the next person who is turned away by the bartender, Grantaire turns, gently grabs hold of them by their arm, and pulls them down to sit across from him. He smiles, almost obliviously, as he pours wine into a glass from a bottle he’s purchased himself, and then forces the glass into his new companion’s hand. ]
There you are, my friend. Now I’ve served you myself, and your supposedly unwelcome money didn’t need to be spent at all. I don’t suppose any complaints can be made about that, do you?
2. Around Wyver
[ Though Grantaire spends a great deal of his time drinking, he makes a special effort to learn the city. It has its quirks and its history, even if the native citizens strangely can’t seem to recall it. Throughout the day, you can find him at various points throughout the city—surprisingly doing something productive. He’s acquired a sketchbook and charcoal, and he seems to be attempting to create sketches of parts of the city that he finds interesting, though he seems upset. He furrows his eyebrows at his paper more often than not, marks through pages entirely, runs his fingers through his hair in frustration and mumbles quietly to himself. ]
Hideous. Distorted perspective. Delusional Grantaire, they’ll say. He sees the world just as twisted as he claims it really is.
[ If you were to peer over this shoulder, you might see that they’re not that bad. He’s just out of practice and expecting miracles.
3. Another drinking prompt because this sad sack of shit [Olympia]
[ Grantaire’s frustration with himself has caused his spirits to sink, while his desire to drink has skyrocketed. He wonders vaguely if Olympia wine is of superior or lesser quality in comparison to Wyver wine, and in a thoughtless decision, he decides to put it to the test.
He isn’t as familiar with Olympia. Unwilling to leave Enjolras, the only friend he has left from the barricade, Wyver has become his new home, but he makes his way to the other city regardless.
The last of his money is spent rather quickly, and his glass drained even more quickly--more than once. Feel free to find him slumped over a table in the corner completely conked out. It's not a good look. Give him a little shake? ]
4. Wildcard
[ Just…anything. Or grab me at
Olympia;
Not that Lucy doesn't like seeing to her people.
She just doesn't like being attached to a desk everyday.
So here she is, taking advantage of her freedom.]
Excuse me, may I-
[And then she sees him.
The only other person here, and she's suddenly worried.]
Sir?
[She shakes him, carefully.]
Sir.
no subject
Away with you, Aigle de Meaux, unless you intend to refill my cup.
[ Without looking, he pushes his empty glass to the edge of the table, though not with enough force to send it crashing to the floor. As he reaches up to push the disheveled mass of curls from his eyes, he blinks, dumbfounded by the face he finds before him. ]
Ah, mademoiselle—
[ His gaze is unfocused as he struggles to prop himself up once more, just barely managing to stay upright in his chair. He’s clearly had more than enough to drink today, but he smiles regardless. ]
Mademoiselle, forgive me. For a moment, I felt as though I was back home and in the company of my old friends. Dear, old friends, and I mistook you for one of them in my imprudence. You neither look nor sound like Lesgle, which is lucky for you as he was a deeply unlucky fellow.
no subject
And lucky for me, as I am no fellow.
[She knows the look of a man in his cups. She is, after all, friends with many a dwarf.]
I do apologize for waking you, sir, but I felt I should, to ensure you are well. May I join you?
no subject
You may, as I am powerless to stop you.
[ He slumps forward once more, this time to rest his chin upon his hand, smiling in that befuddled manner, sleep still heavy in his eyes. ]
If anything, I invite you to join me. I would be glad for your company. I have been sorely lacking in these recent days and it does weigh heavy on my heart. Please—
[ He gestures to the chair opposite of him, bidding her to join him. ]
no subject
[She smiles a little, and sits delicately, like a lady.]
I should be glad to give you any company you might need, sir. Perhaps, may I ask, are you he who had helped me with my arguments on monarchy to your very passionate friend?
[Because Lucy is kind, she uses the word passionate, and not annoying.]
no subject
His gaze softens at the mere mention of Enjolras, though his smile and his voice both take on a melancholy quality. He utterly reveres Enjolras, but he feels as though he’s capable of being nothing but a disappointment to him. ]
Enjolras would not consider me a friend, if he were here among us now, but that must have been none other than me. Was I of help you? [ He looks genuinely surprised as his fingers tap idly against the rim of his empty glass. ] That is a surprise indeed. Perhaps you can tell Enjolras. I recall speaking to you, mademoiselle, but I can hardly recall what it was that I said to you. I warned you of his inflexibility, did I not?
no subject
[Which, actually. Is probably not true, but rather a testament to Lucy herself.]
You were of most help, anyway. It is always help when someone is happy to speak to my defense.
[Even though he wasn't defending her position, he was certainly protecting her pride.]
no subject
[ The truth is that Enjolras can be absolutely terrible, but Grantaire is more than content to revere him and sing his praises despite that fact. He hardly sees the flaws, or hardly seems bothered by them. Maybe it’s the fact that Grantaire is swimming in wine so often that blinds him to the finer details.
He blinks the remaining sleep away from his eyes, clearly still plenty drunk, but smiling gently. ]
Was I truly? [ Being a help? That's new. ] May I know your name, mademoiselle? Know me as Grantaire, and forgive me. I'm uncertain if I introduced myself before.
no subject
[She smiles, bright, and tender at once.]
It is my great pleasure to know your name, Grantaire.
[She takes a moment, and turns, and the bartender, bless him, is already bringing water over. One for her. One for him.]
You must care for him a great deal, I should gather.
no subject
[ He’s visibly more than a little disappointed that the water isn’t more wine, but he manages what might be a polite nod. It’s honestly nearly indistinguishable between a nod and what could be his body slumping forward once more. His messy curls fall across his eyes and he makes no move to brush them away, but he hardly seems bothered by them. Perhaps he hasn’t noticed, blind as he already is to the world around him. ]
I care for him more than I care for myself.
[ Clearly. I mean—just look at the state he's in. This is a man who doesn't take care of himself. ]
no subject
And does he care for you so?
[These are the important things to Lucy.]
no subject
[ He mumbles the responses pitifully as he slouches backward in his chair once more, doing little more than staring at his glass of water. He's wanted to prevent himself from disappointing Enjolras all over again, and somewhere in the back of his hazy mind, he knows he's just thrown that chance away. It's back to square one. ]
He disdains me. When I return home, he’ll disdain me even more.
[ It isn’t exactly true, but Grantaire is doing nothing to help his situation. ]
no subject
But why should he disdain you? Have you quarreled?
[It would be no hard thing to imagine a quarrel with a man such as Enjolras, because passionate men often say things that are not meant to be troublesome but so often hurt another, or they do not consider how their arguments should make them blind to the needs of others.]
no subject
[ To describe their disagreements as quarrels is somewhat incorrect, though not entirely so. Grantaire would disagree, but Enjolras would not. Grantaire thinks so fondly of Enjolras that any of his cruel words, no matter how much they hurt, are instantly forgiven. Grantaire’s mistakes, on the other hand, always stick. ]
I would do whatever he asked, if he asked it of me.
[ He slumps forward completely now, resting his arms on the table and his head upon his arms. It’s absolutely pitiful. ]
He never asks it of me. I’ve disappointed him. I can no longer repair it.
no subject
[That's heartbreaking, in a way. Her hand goes to his curls, and she strokes him very carefully.]
It will work out, I'm most certain, sir.
[Because nosy nelly here is going to make it.]