tushanshu_logs | There Is A Flame That Never Dies: Enjolras Catchall!

Characters: Enjolras and OPEN
Date: The Month of June
Location: Various. Turtle's Head, A Tavern, The Streets
Situation: Enjolras uses an anniversary to mourn, celebrate his friends, and tries to gather Foreigner stories and information about how the common kedan view them.

Warnings/Rating: Grief, Talk of Death, Alcohol.

I.

There's A Grief That Can't Be Spoken. There's A Pain Goes On And On:

(Turtle's Head: June 5th, All Day and Night)

Enjolras is seated at the turtle's head starring out at the water the best way that he can, a hand on his soul gem, which is warm to touch. His thoughts now turn toward, not Taraja, though he'd come here with her often, taking the long trek because she enjoyed it. Today, he's thinking of the others who have slipped him by, of how Combeferre and he started something two...three mid summers ago, in the midst of the awful memories of the barricade and the love he'd learned not to deny himself. Now, he is alone, just starring out at the depths of the ocean, thoughts of those he's loved, and lost, floating through his mind.

IS he condemned to watch them die, then see them vanish in another world? Enjolras supposes he deserves it, but could it be a lie of Malicant's he's taken to his heart? Could it be corruption of his soul? Either way he's at the head, pacing back and forth from time to time and tossing rocks into the water as he tries to look under control, or at least, to have a private place here, where he can break down with the memory, not of their deaths, but of their lives, and the hard truth that this year, he's on his own; dread anniversaries causing him to think in such a way or not.

"At this time in 1832..." He muses, not quite under his breath. After all, who could not think of home, today?

II.

Drink With Me To Days Gone By:

(June 6th, A Tavern In Keelaiai)

He died today. Enjolras died today, holding the hand of Grantaire of all people. Grantaire, who loved his taverns, and his absinthe and whatever drinks that he could get his hands on. Grantaire who had loved...no, He's putting that thought firmly away. It's hardly for tonight, for blaspheming the men who died with and for him. Tonight is for honor instead.

It only feels right somehow, that he is sitting here, in this tavern, taking up a large table with a shot of this establishment's strongest lined up for Grantaire. And a glass of wine for Combeferre, of the kind they often enjoyed bringing back to their table here, a fruity mixed drink that he thought Bahorel would enjoy, brandy for Courferac and Eponine. All in all, there are several drinks lined up around a round table in the corner, and one Enjolras, chastely sipping at a glass of water, ignoring the filled wineglass by his side for just a while still. He's sitting silently, occasionally studying a slowly burning candle, a look of devoted, almost peaceful contemplation on his face, the candlelight catching on his earrings as he waits, for God Knows What.

III.

Let Us Take To The Streets With A Jubilant Shout:

(June 7th and Onward, Streets of Keelaiai)

"Would you like to talk about your life here, how you feel about the Foreigners?" Enjolras asks a keedan girl outside one of the shops and then a boy who don't seem to shy away so quickly from him. "What's it like for your family now?

From time to time, he's also spotting willing foreigners and darting over, notes in hand to learn what things he might. Books promoting Foreigners as normal can't be written alone, and finding out what image they have to lose is quite important after all! Enjolras is willing to grab anyone he can to tell their stories, whether they really wish to speak with him or not. This could be a problem.

IV.

They Will Come One And All, They Will Come When We Call!

(Choose your own!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"We have our pick of political problems. Or the general tension between foreigners and kedan."

Not that he had any idea of where to start on any of those, just that they existed.

"And very few who seem to care beyond the initial matter, on the second." Enjolras shook his head. "If there were some way to organize but...I do doubt that we have the numbers now."

And it was depressing. "I wonder who might come if anything were arranged."

"Depends on if you offer food or something," Zelgadis said. "And some might come just for information purposes. That and most of us are used to getting news in person, rather than over the network."

"I don't even know what the numbers are in this case." It's not like they have a census.

"Free food drawing the crowds?" Enjolras smiled. "A leftover from the garage sale, as a tactic but probably a very good one. I had hoped to start a newspaper or something on the radio here, but..." He shakes his head. "Finding like minded enough people through food. It IS a good idea."

"As far as the numbers go, nor do I." He admitted. "It feels...fragmented now though. As if we will never get things back to normal. I miss that."

"Food gets them to come and stay long enough to consider things; it's why people keep doing it. Hell, you could even collect a census. Figure out how many of us are left."

BEcause that does bug Zel a bit. He stands out as a Foreigner, but as long as the kedan don't see any meaningful distinction between him and a human, he actually doesn't mind as much not looking human. It's certainly easier to get along when that isn't how the lines are drawn.

"There do seem to be fewer and fewer who have been here a long time." Enjolras nods. "It could be good to know how to reference things as well, if we're looking at more new people than old, things like that."

He does suspect that number is changing rapidly. And has to wonder just where everyone is going when they leave here, where HE went during that period he's been told about that he does not remember.

"I think that it could be arranged, easily enough."

"The question is if someone will bother to do it," Zelgadis said. "I wouldn't relish asking everyone to answer some questions."

But, again, see his problems with socialization. Zelgadis doesn't mind talking to friends. He doesn't like going up to strangers and being disarming enough that they answer questions.

"It's not proved exactly easy, no." Enjolras shakes his head "One gets USED to it, the asking questions and trying to prompt answers but the second option, and intimidating them into it never produces a real answer, does it?"

Enjolras is okay with asking questions, but he's definitely better at framing the narrative HE sees. He's gotten better lately, but still.

"it doesn't. And people shape the answers they give to control how they are seen by other people."

Everyone ahd their narratives.

"So they do. Social expectations, mores and customs. I never understood those beyond that they exist." Enjolras admits, shaking his head. "People are baffling aren't they? They skip around instead of simply saying what they feel or believe. Frustrating." He adds, shaking his head a bit.

"Still. I suppose the fact it exists is proof enough of something."

"Sometimes saying what you are really thinking is a good way to start an argument that you don't want to deal with at the moment," Zelgadis said. It had been a valuable tool: what could he argue with with Lina, and what was pointless. Or any of the people he'd known back home: all had their own biases and things they would ignore or protest. Lina just tended to take the lead.

"All too true." Enjolras may not understand why, exactly, but he understood that it was still true anyway. "I suppose it does not matter so much why people react that way. Perhaps direct confrontation seems a little rude." At least, it was reasonable to assume that was part of it, right?

"I do admit I think I scared someone away on a few occasions. Perhaps more than. It was a complicated relationship." One way to describe Marius, at least.

"There are simple relationships?" Zelgadis asked. He'd never run into ones, beyond those that were shallow enough that they couldn't have any complexity.,

Enjolras had to snicker at the question there.

"Ah, you make an excellent point. There were more complications than most in our relationship. I think...Marius and I could have been friends, we nearly were. Only...we both were stubborn asses about a few things, some principles that seemed more important at the time. We ended with awkward apologies more often than not, and awkward meetings in public until we were fighting again. That sort of thing. Of course...now that he's gone...I do miss him."

Sort of, anyway.

There Is A Flame That Never Dies: Enjolras Catchall!

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