OPEN

[philosophe]

Characters: Combeferre, Enjolras, Jehan Prouvaire, Grantaire, and YOU probably!
Date: February 23
Location: A smallish cafe in the Wood sector!
Situation: Discussion of politics and philosophy and culture and possibly shenanigans, we never can tell with these guys.
Warnings/Rating: ...UH. G, maybe PG? Idek what they'll talk about.



[The cafe wasn't too far from their various tree-houses, reasonably priced and in a place where it could be easily found by passers-by. They had adopted it once they had all felt well enough to go wandering about their new home, it was comfortable and pleasant and very nearly reminded Combeferre of home. Certainly it would never be quite the same as the Musain, and he did not expect it to be.

But it would do, for now. So for the moment, he is quietly ensconced with his friends in a back corner. They are discussing things amongst themselves, waiting to see if anyone will accept Enjolras' offer and join them. Hopefully, this wouldn't turn out as horribly as Marius' introduction to Les Amis de l'ABC. That would remain to be seen. Suffice to say, if Combeferre recognizes anyone, he will be waving them over with a welcoming grin.]

Comments

ota

[poeticverses]

[Jehan had been estatic when they found the café. It wasn't the Musain, it wasn't the Corinthe, but Jehan personally felt the differences made it easier to meet there. At least the proprietor didn't mind a group of Frenchmen debating and drinking in his establishment.

The food was also fantastic, but that was just Jehan.

He's sitting at one of the tables they've claimed, scribbling something down on a scrap of paper (torn from a book, God it killed him to do it but he needed the paper and he didn't have enough saved from his job at one of the florists here to get one of the notebooks) and piping up when he has something to say.

Which is often, but.]

[virginprice]

[Alcuin takes a seat at Jehan's table with a drink, watching him write for a little while. He's still quite interested in the poet's work- how could he not be?]

May I ask what you're writing, or is your muse upon you?

[poeticverses]

Oh, hello.

[He hadn't been paying attention to the people around him. Jehan smiles when he sees Alcuin]

Just thoughts for now. I am out of the habit of writing, sadly, and am trying to get back into it.

forever threadjacking

[cynisme]

Jehan is always writing, and his muse is the sun and the sky. Or your pretty face and golden hair, that could work too.

[depicted]

[He doesn't glance over Jehan's shoulder to see what he is writing, but he does glance at it from across the table.]

You found something for your writing, then?

[poeticverses]

[He glances up, smiling softly.

LOOK DORIAN HE'S IN GREEN. Still not stylish but]

I did. I had to tear some blank pages from a book until I can find and afford a blank notebook of some kind.

o t a

[cynisme]

[Grantaire has never been particularly useful at these meetings. Then again, the meetings themselves were never particularly useful to begin with. He always saw them for what they really were, an excuse for a bunch of intellectuals to gather together and drink while discussing the politics of the day. He wouldn't even have shown up back in their real lives if it wasn't for the fact that he lived so damn close to their Cafe Musain, and because of Enjolras.

Still, it's nice to get back into a routine like this. He goes instantly for a seat in the corner and sips from his flask, now recently filled once again with something tasting like licorice and mint, feet up on the table. He even orders himself something to munch on--he doesn't know how long they'll be where they are. Until closing or they're kicked out, probably.]

o t a

[idealisme]

[Enjolras is so caught up in the evening and the familiarity of it all that he does not notice that, as they have all returned to their usual discourses, so Grantaire has returned to his bottle and his corner. But an interesting topic comes up and he puts the matter to one side.

It's not until late in the evening that he recalls the issue again. And it is an issue that they have all died for France, for change- and yet now their brother sits as he ever has, on the fringes. Is it self-imposed, out of habit, or otherwise? Enjolras does not know.

So when he finds himself with a lull in discussion, he crosses the room to join Grantaire.]

Have you finished with A Rebours yet? What did you think of it?

[cynisme]

[Returning to his bottle and to his corner is easy, and he's always been in favor of the easiest response. There was very little drive in him at all, except where Enjolras was concerned, and that would only fade the further he got from his Adonis.

He returns to his corner because it's comfortable, and trying to contribute would only end in disaster once again. He would like to hold onto Enjolras thinking well of him for as long as he can, and he could only ruin it.

He's not surprised this time when Enjolras does join him, simply pessimistic with his heart knotted in his chest.]

I finished it, loved it, and wondered how the hell you got your hands on it. It's not for you, Enjolras.

ota

[depicted]

[Of course Dorian shows up. Young men passionately arguing about pointless things? How could he not attend? Besides, there is alcohol. Dorian is happy to come, and he brings along with him a poorly dressed Romantic who has the appearance of Hugh Skinner. Because the Amis wanted Jehan-in-Joly's-body around, of course.]

[As for Dorian, he quickly gets himself a drink and settles down to enjoy the conversation, both in participation and as a spectator sport.]

[cynisme]

[He doesn't call out to Dorian. Rather, he tears off a piece of frite and tosses it in Dorian's direction. He misses, of course, but hitting him wasn't really the point. Merely getting his attention. Should it work, he'll receive a wave from the corner.]

Enjolras can go on forever, it's best to tune him out once he starts.

[Not that Grantaire ever does. He hasn't seen Toby's face yet though, and he motions in his direction.]

I hope your friend likes pointless optimism.

[monstrous]

[With elbows on the table, Toby smiles earnestly and takes another sip of his drink] Oh, that's actually my favourite kind. Any other sort is just self congratulatory.

ota

[monstrous]

[And here is Jehan-in-Joly's body, aka Toby the poorly dressed Romantic era loving vampire. He's sitting at a table, nursing this world's equivalent of whisky, looking pretty apathetic overall. He's not miserable, but he's not the life of the party either. He's just chilling like a villain while his boyfriend vampire life partner parties it up.]

[poeticverses]

[Jehan sees Toby out of the corner of his eye, so it takes a second to realize who he thinks he seeing. When he does, he nearly falls from his seat]

...Jol--

[Wait, wrong era of clothing. He blushes]

No, forgive me.

[monstrous]

Doesn't seem like there's anything to forgive. [Toby shifts in his seat, curious now] You're all right, mate?

ota

[philosophe]

[Here is Combeferre, bustling over because doesn't this gentleman look familiar, and he is very nearly about to give him a check-over and a scolding because Really, Joly, how could you not -- but then he stops, seeing the clothes, and settles down across from Toby.]

A friend of Monsieur Gray's, I presume?

[monstrous]

[Toby is amused, assuming this is another person confusing him for Joly but also because of the fact they are associating him with Dorian] What gave it away?

[depicted]

[Periodically through the night, Dorian returns to Toby, like a butterfly to a favourite flower or a moth to a flame. He sits beside him and smiles.]

They're rather sweet, don't you think?

[idealisme]

[Excuse you this is a cafe not a nightclub. There will be no partying here.


Is what Enjolras would say, if he weren't meeting the Joly!double in person for the first time. He extends a hand, taking the seat next to his.]

Good evening, Monsieur Matthews. It's nice to meet you in person.

OTA

[philosophe]

[Combeferre is dividing his time between debates and discussion with Enjolras, absent-mindedly doodling small things on a piece of paper he's managed to scrounge up. As noted earlier, if he recognizes someone, they're getting a wave and a quiet welcome -- but should you care to intrude, you will doubtless hear arguments on when and how to have a discussion with their esteemed Emperor.]

[poeticverses]

What I would like to know is why she is called the Emperor when she is a woman.

[This bothers Jehan, okay?]

[idealisme]

[You can all discuss why she's an Emperor, Enjolras has better matters.]

There is no education here, Combeferre. No opportunity for any who wish to better themselves to do so! Do you think the Empress will allow that to change?

ota just walked in to the wrong damn café

[inseine]

[Javert had a long day.

That's why, rather than glance around through the windows to the café clientele and realize he is making a Big Mistake, he makes a beeline straight for the counter. He orders swiftly, a brusque little request for a strong black coffee and some bread and cheese to go. An exchange of coins, and he sweeps aside for the next customer to take to the register.

The man would blend in rather nicely, actually, with his East Asian getup pulled straight from the Earth Sector stalls. He would, if he did not still wear his fearsome whiskers so large, and if he were not so damnably tall. The nasty bruises and swelling receded rather nicely, too. No longer did he resemble the walking dead, shuffling and wheezing along with a body that barely cooperated. Now he could easily pass for a man who had no more than a brief slip-up during savate practice. At least his color returned.

While he awaits his doggy bag and travel cup, Javert stands with his back pressed against the wall and arms folded forbiddingly. He lets his gaze wander, unfocused and pensive.

Until he catches a certain glint of blond curls. And then a flash, a swinging arm, a bottle of wine, a mop of black.

Suddenly a very annoyed Javert wishes the baristas would fix up his order just a mite quicker so he could get out as casually and swiftly as he came.]

ugh sorry this so long to tag, i was trying to figure out what he'd do

[philosophe]

[Comberferre, too, is watchful -- and he has noticed you, M. le Mouchard, despite your kedan-styled clothing. He does not make any outcry, save to lean to Enjolras' ear and inform him. But then, he gives Javert a small, wary nod. He sees you, Javert, and he will not move to displace you, but he will watch.]

8D

[idealisme]

[Unlike his friend, when the arrival of their acquaintance has been related to him Enjolras wastes no time in seeking him out. First a visual confirmation across the crowded room, followed by a quick stride that has him standing before the man in only a few moments.

He sets aside his first instinct to accuse and denounce the mouchard.]

If you wish to attend our meetings, Inspecteur, we shall require certain assurances from you regarding your motives.