Catchall

[winecasks]

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 muttonchops for a top level. ]

Comments

3

[abyssalflame]

[Sidurgu has tried to remain as neutral as possible despite having taken up tentative residence in Wyver, failing to choose a side during the gala and ending up grateful he didn't. People in Olympia still give him looks and occasionally divert his service elsewhere, but it's nothing he's not used to, in truth.

At least they still let him drink here. However, he knows someone who's had too much when he sees them, and puts himself between Grantaire and the bar -- although it seems like he couldn't have another glass even if he wanted to, unless he enjoys death and dying.

Perhaps he does. Who knows.]

You've had enough. Isn't it past your bedtime?

[winecasks]

[ Grantaire has died once and seemingly isn’t opposed to it again, given the way he chooses to continue living his second shot at life. He’s still drunk more than he is sober, and he doesn’t seem to find any qualms with that beyond the occasional nagging in the back of his mind that tells him that he’s just as much of a disappointment as Enjolras always said he was. He just can’t stop himself.

Sidurgu’s voice rouses him from his sleep, and he raises his head just enough to train his bleary eyes on the other man before his gaze quickly falls out of focus once more. ]

No, no, I have had too little.

[ He insists, pounding his fist against the table for emphasis, causing his empty glass to rattle. ]

And with too few friends to join me. It is a lonely man who drinks alone, or a man who has been deprived of those he once would have gladly shared his wine with. Allow me one more glass, monsieur. One more, and I am certain I will sleep well enough for all of those dear friends who cannot join me here tonight.

[abyssalflame]

If your complaint is that everyone you know is sleeping in a damned pod, spare me the melodrama. At least they're not sleeping in the cold, hard ground.

[Sans one, anyway. That said, he seems disinclined to budge, crossing his arms sternly.]

More than friends to join you, I think frankly you need someone to stop you from regretting it in the morning.

[winecasks]

They should be, and I should be among them. Death is the warm embrace, and life the cold, empty void.

[ Melodrama is what he’s good at, clearly. It’s apparent as he heaves a deep sigh, running a finger along the rim of his depressingly empty glass. He’s more than likely to beg for more wine before the night is over with, despite his empty pockets. That’s just how the cycle goes. Whether or not he’s realized that it’s a cycle has yet to be determined. ]

I’ll regret nothing in the morning, save for not having one more glass of wine.

[abyssalflame]

[Sid just... stares at him for a long while, the gaze as piercing as ever but somehow lacking heat. He's not angry, just evaluating. Eventually, he comes to a conclusion, and moves to put a hand on the back of Grantaire's chair.]

...Right. To hell with this, we're leaving.

[And if he won't disclose where he lives -- or doesn't have such a place -- at least he won't be alone at night on the streets. Not that he's about to spill his logic, though.]

Stand up, or you're getting carried.

[winecasks]

[ Grantaire merely blinks up at him, struggling to find what it was that he said to earn such a response. As far as he can recall, he only said he truth. It takes him only a moment to concede, however, and he struggles to his feet. ]

I would sooner stay here and enjoy another glass, but leave, leave if we must. If you wish to return me home, I do not live in Olympia.

[ He sways dangerously, and barely halfway steadies himself with the back of the chair he was previously sitting in. If it wasn’t clear before, he is very, very drunk. ]

I walked here from Wyver. It was quite a long journey.

[abyssalflame]

[That answer clearly does not make Sid happy by the face he makes. Carrying this sod all the way back there is not on his list of things he wants to be doing tonight, but...]

Have you no contacts in Olympia you could impose upon?

[Because he sure doesn't. It's entirely possible he'll have no damn choice if he's so determined not to see Grantaire drink himself to death.]

[winecasks]

[ Friendship may well be the only thing that keeps Grantaire alive, if the way he treats himself is anything to judge by. He’s a friendly man when he isn’t completely plastered, and he’s charmed enough people, but none of his contacts beyond Enjolras are close enough to the point that he’s aware where any of them live.

He seems to muse on it for a long moment, warring with his memory, but he can find nothing through the fog. ]

My only known contact in Olympia is this establishment. [ He gestures vaguely about the room before he has to take hold of the chair once more to keep balance. ] They’ve been extraordinarily kind. Though, that was so long as I could pay. It is truly a sad thing when a man's pockets grow light and empty. You're looked upon as a different person entirely.

[abyssalflame]

[It would seem he has no other option but to drag him somewhere safe. But what kind of place would take residents of Wyver? Perhaps a hostel of some sort... if he must pay the damned toll, so be it, because he's gotten himself in, and it would be folly to bail now.

The trouble is, Sid is easily tall enough that slinging an arm over his shoulders will do nothing but lift Grantaire straight off the ground. Which leaves...

Sigh.]

...Gods have mercy.

[Instead, he scoops him up and supports him bridal-style, looking none too pleased about it.]

You're hardly in any condition to travel so far a distance, no matter the method. I'll drag your arse to a safe place if I must, but that's it.

[winecasks]

[ Grantaire is taken by surprise. His eyes wide, he flails so wildly that he nearly strikes Sid in the face by mistake, but he is, almost fortunately, far too drunk to be of any real harm to anyone. ]

Just leave me here.

[ He sounds utterly miserable, but his fight becomes strictly verbal. He throws no punches, neither kicks nor squirms in an attempt to get away. Instead, he just…talks more, sounding more pitiful than he does convincing. ]

Monsieur, just leave me. This is the safest place I can be until morning. Enjolras will not care. He disdains me enough as it is.

[ He pulls another person’s name into it out of nowhere, but at least he gives evidence that he knows someone, even if it is someone in Wyver. ]

[abyssalflame]

[Gods, but he's far too soft if he's really going to go against those pitiful pleas. He can't help but roll his eyes.]

Bullshite. If I leave you alone, it'll be a matter of time ere someone either attempts to drag you away just the same, or you drink yourself to death.

[Besides, that claim that this person "won't care" is more than a little peculiar. More likely, it's just that this madness is hurting their friendship, if that's what it is.]

You can't even bloody walk. Cease complaint; we're leaving.

[And out the door they go. If he must pay coin to see this fool get some godsdamn rest, so be it, but he's already put up too much of a fuss to give up.]

[winecasks]

[ He continues to protest for awhile longer, insisting that he’ll be just fine if left to his own devices or left at his little table in the corner, even when the table far behind him. Clearly, these are all merely the pitiful pleas of a man who has had far too much to drink, but he doesn’t seem to realize that they fall upon deaf ears.

Eventually, however, it does seem to get through to him. He heaves an enormous sigh, wishing for just one more drink of wine, or to be allowed to walk on his own. Back home, he always managed somehow. But as he hasn’t been allowed, he decides that he can at least stare at the sky for a moment. ]

Where do you come from, my tall fellow? Do you suppose the same stars we see here are the same stars that shone there? I do not. They shine brighter here than they did in Paris, and with so much less to be merry about.

[ Enjoy that nonsense, Sid. ]