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

[winecasks]

[ It’s Richie’s hand hitting the table that wakes Grantaire as well. As if woken by the sound of gunfire, he leaps upright in his chair, the house of cards tumbling down his back. Clearly unaware of the entire situation, he blinks bleary-eyed around the room, at the group of teenaged hoodlums, and up at his apparent savior. Confusion is etched onto his face—somewhere alongside the freshly drawn dick that he remains unaware is even there.

He merely offers a sluggish smile, leaning forward to rest his chin onto his hand. Yep. Still drunk. ]

Have I acquired an audience? I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, my friends. I’m hardly a performer. If I were, I fear I might be a Hegelochus. My performance, no matter how poor or superb, would be forgotten and my poor pronunciation remembered and ridiculed for all time.

nvmd this old timey manchild is too shameful, i rescind this thread

[summertimeblues]

[Funny that he should protest so much. As far as the teens are concerned (and Richie himself, incredulous though he is) he's a downright riot. The pack of youths all rip off laughing. A few clamor for more, gifted with silly words as the drunken bastard is. Richie snorts and pulls one back by the shoulder.]

Go on, buzz off. Come back around when you're old enough to finish second between the sheets.

[The boy blanches and his friends riot, laughing and pointing. "It's true, it's true!" they insist as they lead their red-cheeked pal away. They seem apt to move shenanigans to a different bar instead, but at least they'll leave this addled sucker be. Richie shoots him a long glance and delicately moves the nearest pint out of reach. The kids left behind half their drinks. All but two are near polished off.]

Did you have a fun night out? [Looks rather like the opposite. Especially since he was sitting lonesome. Any company he'd had seems to have long since taken a powder.] Might want to hit the john before you go home, you got a little... [Richie scratches at his own cheek in demonstration.]

no no i love him let him stay

[winecasks]

[ When the crowd has cleared and and their laughter has died away, Grantaire blink up at Richie once more. It takes more than a moment for the other man’s words to take on any clear meaning. It isn’t difficult to see that this poor drunken fool has had entirely too much tonight and would still drink another man’s share if given the opportunity. ]

The wine was fair, but I found the company to be lacking.

[ He admits, inclining his head. It nearly throws him off balance entirely. God, this sad sack of shit… ]

Which is to say there was little, none of it familiar to me, and none of it quite as I am used to. But the wine was a fine vintage. I have few complaints.

[ He blinks slowly once more, as though to steady himself and to clear his mind after that short rant, and reaches up to touch his cheek in mirror of Richie’s demonstration, looking puzzled. ]

Monsieur, I am aware that I’ve not had a shave in some time.

nah, kicks gran-gran out of his own open log

[summertimeblues]

So you got sloshed alone.

[Definitely a misery binge. Which makes it all the sadder that his night was ending in a puddle of playing cards with a penis cheek. None of this seems to penetrate the heady wine fog billowing about between his ears.

Richie sighs and takes a seat next to him. He pulls out his phone, angling the camera at the young man.] Do me a favor and gimme a big smile, will ya? Warm memories of a night on the town.

[He won't listen to protests. The light goes off, whether Grantaire plays along or not.]

i mean im not gonna say he doesnt deserve it

[winecasks]

My friends still sleep, but I’m hardly alone.

[ He smiles vaguely, gesturing around the room. It’s true that there are plenty of other people about, but they’re all occupied with their own conversations, drinking and laughing with their own friends, loved ones, or whoever it is they’ve dragged along with them tonight. Grantaire seems to be one of the few, if not the only person who’s come here to drink alone tonight.

He looks puzzled as Richie reaches for his phone, but doesn’t protest. He doesn’t have time to. The alcohol has made him sluggish and he doesn’t even manage the smile requested of him before the light flashes, leaving him blinking fiercely. ]

I was not aware that those devices were capable of reproducing the light of the stars on any man's whim.

[summertimeblues]

[And there's the money line. Someone probably went back to stasis, or he'd just come out of another visit. Richie tends to do his drinking up among the coffins and try to shake his way back to business on the trip down, but he could hardly blame anyone if the hopeless feelings lingered.

Though the tyke's being pure facetious about his company. Richie shoots him a look. Exasperated, but knowing.]

If you're sitting in the middle of a sixty-person orgy and there's a gal on every lap except yours, then you're still alone, my friend. Standing near something don't make you part of it.

[He supposes this means its up to him to see the sad sack home. Oh well. He'd already had his night out, it was gonna have to wind down some time.

The remark about the phone dates the man (though his dress, hair, and figures of speech were doing the job pretty damn well). From a land before Steve. Probably still doing horse n' buggy. God forbid it goes earlier than that. Can the bubonic plague survive the cryogenics?]

It does more than that. It's also the zippiest portrait painter this side of the twentieth century. Behold. [He spins the phone around. Grantaire's own besumed gape stares out from the screen. And lo, there she be. El Chupa-cock-bra.]

You're coming down with a bad case of dick-cheek, pal. A common symptom of passing out around delinquent pimple poppers.