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

WILDCARD I DO WHAT I LIKE

[idealisme]

[There's no concern when Enjolras comes home to an empty house. At first he barely notices, instead assuming the man is either out drinking or just passed out in his room. The assumption doesn't please him, but he doesn't linger on it- he has books to read and matters to attend to.

Hunger draws him away from his work, that's when he thinks again of the man's absence. There are rivers a drunk man might stumble into, with the heightened tension who knew which ruffian he might offend. The growing concern sits uneasily in his gut, there's no outlet for it and short of crossing the city to check every drinking hole there's nothing he can do.

Then, as he tries to settle back into his work after eating, he finds he's unexpectedly tense. He reads about the history of Wyver and can't settle. It's infuriating.

Sitting up late (or early, as it soon becomes) reading is normal for him. If he does so in their shared space rather than in his room, that's his own choice. If he gets up to pace as he reads more often than usual, that's also of his own volition.]

Olympia;

[illuminescent]

[She's coming in to this tavern with her cheeks flushed, bright. It's the middle of the day, and Lucy is not here to get drunk - she is here to get some water or some juice because she's been in the woods, and there's archery, and no one is around to harness her and ask her to do things like paperwork.

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.

2

[playingfetch]

[Who could possibly overhear this and not peer over the man's shoulder? That's an invitation to a trainwreck right there. Lancer's headed back from the market with a damp wooden crate under his arm, passing through the streets via a route that's new for him, and he's grateful for this probable entertainment.

It turns out the art, when he cranes over to catch a glimpse of it, isn't as much of a trainwreck as he expected. It remains to be seen about the artist. Lancer gives him a hearty little smack on the back. Buck up, your anime's looking just fine!]

Don't be like that! You're being hard on yourself. I ain't an artist, but I can tell what's in the picture. That's more than I expected with the way you're talking.

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?

3

[summertimeblues]

[There's a passel of teenagers surrounding the sleeping drunkard. Seventeen-abouts, and here was all the evidence you needed that twenty one still should be limit to legal vice: they were stacking a house of cards on the lush's back.

Hilarious, but awful. Objectively awful. The guy's been so still the paper's not given so much as a chilly quiver.

Richie'd finished a date about half a pint ago. Local girl. Most of the refugees ran too raw, too strange a tapestry laying out their histories to make him try getting further than dances at the Gala. She'd enjoyed herself but had early work the next morning, and left him to finish his beer solo. If it hadn't been for Miss Doe Eyes and her sweet lips on his, he might have spotted the nonsense before they'd gotten out of hand.

Richie watches them place a card at the top, frowning. One of them is pulling out a pen and takes the business end to the man's cheek.

Enough.

He strolls over, face set in mild-mannered niceties. When he hits the table the hoodlums look up. He gives them a grin and sticks a finger in the middle of the masterpiece.

It flops down around the drunk's sleeping form, smothering his face and censoring the freshly drawn dick.].

1

[ininhuman]

[ While the tension is obvious to anyone with half a brain, and Maximus, for what it's worth, does love a good bit of mayhem, he thinks he ought to take advantage while he can still travel freely between the two cities. He firmly believes that Olympia should be bold in their actions. To give Wyver anything less is to already admit defeat, after all, but ... The plants are much more interesting in Wyver.

So before he has to get creative in his means, he decides to get his current succulent a friend. What should have been a simple endeavour is, frankly, exhausting. But little pot in hand, he comes across a bar. Maximus is not one for drinking. He feels as if he needs it before he wanders back homewards.

This, too, is an exhausting endeavour until his free hand is occupied by a glass. ]

Thank you?

1.

[oddbod]

[It takes a moment to even process what's going on, and by that point Clara is sitting across from Grantaire, slowly starting to laugh at the offer.]

My money was only unwelcome after I objected to the bartender looking down my dress.

[Not that she objects. However, she doesn't take a sip quite yet. There's something cautious in her approach, as she looks down at the wine.]