video; un: R

[winecasks]

[ Grantaire is where he usually is, huddled off with his wine in the corner of a tavern somewhere in Wyver. He doesn’t seem to be too far into this endeavor, considering he’s plenty eloquent when he decides to make a speech to the network.

It’s less than rousing. It's mostly complaints. ]

All this talk of politics has made me weary, friends. To be frank, I hardly understand it at all. I have listened. I drink, it’s true, but I listen. My ears are far better than my eyes or my memory, and no one ever tunes their conversation to exclude the fellow enjoying his drink in the corner.

[ This much seems to be true, given how he’s been rambling at length and no one has bothered to silence him. There’s chatter in the background as people enjoy their own conversations, separate from him as he drinks from the bottle. ]

I have heard things. Things about how the first to wake were welcomed gladly by Olympia, and others still were welcomed by Wyver later on. My ears are fine and well, I assure you, but my mind is perhaps foggy. It cannot comprehend what happened to create this change. Politics. Surely that is the only answer. It always is.

[ He rolls his eyes, taking another drink. ]

Well, I’ll not partake in any of it. I have no love for one city over another, no love for a king over an empress. I do not disdain monarchy, though I do not disdain those who do. I simply disdain politics. Tell me why I should choose one side or another, or why I should change my mind on the matter.

Comments

[idealisme]

Into a bonfire, obviously. [It's hard to tell whether's he's scowling about Grantaire's lack of interest in politics or about the man almost being thrown into a bonfire.]

[winecasks]

[ He smiles anyway, undeterred by Enjolras and his scowl. ]

Clearly not, for here I am.

[idealisme]

Did they decide you weren't the proper kind of bonfire material?

[winecasks]

I suppose that might have been the case. I had help from someone far more eloquent than myself, but in the end, those who wished to use me as kindly simply decided I was mad.

[idealisme]

What, did you tell them about Promethus?

[This isn't a fond tone of voice, but there's something like exasperation mingled in with the frustration.]

[winecasks]

That's a fine thought. I should have told them of Prometheus, and of his plight to give fire to humanity, but no. They were spared such stories.

[ He doesn't seem at all offended or dissuaded by Enjolras' frustration and exasperation. He answers honestly. ]

I told them that I had already died once before, and that was enough for them to leave me be.

[ That and the fact that he was just a little bit drunk. ]

[idealisme]

And you're lucky they did.

[Would he feel better to know Grantaire had been killed through reasons entirely unrelated to Enjolras and his cause? No, that wouldn't make him feel better at all.]

You ought take more care with yourself.

[winecasks]

Is that you own opinion, Enjolras? I should like to know who among us finds it so fortunate that I managed to escape.

[ He isn't afraid to die a second death, but he doubts Enjolras would be torn up if he disappeared. Curious, perhaps, but not upset. ]

I did nothing to encourage them. That's care enough, is it not?

[idealisme]

Enough? To save you from a murderous crowd? [He tells himself he's angry because Grantaire appears to sell his life so cheaply, and for nothing.]

And if they'd caught you drunk, incapable of stringing two words together to defend yourself?

[winecasks]

Three men is so rarely considered a crowd. A group, perhaps. Even a rousing meeting.

[ He's still smiling gently, and it's clear that he can't be swayed to believe that his own life isn't anything but pointless. He gave it up once, for the one thing he believes in, and it's difficult to accept that it was for nothing. ]

I am capable of defending myself without the use of words, Enjolras.

[idealisme]

While drunk? An uneven road is as much as danger as a bonfire to you in that state.

[He's trying to contain himself, surprised at the vehemence of his response. It's the waste of life, he tells himself, that has him so riled up. Even Grantaire cannot want to throw himself away for so little.

That he would be the only one left here does not consciously occur to him.]

[winecasks]

[ Grantaire is never surprised by any sort of passion or fire in Enjolras’ tone. It can be easily mistaken for anger, and he hasn’t managed to distinguish between the two as far as this conversation goes. ]

An uneven road can kill a sober man on a bad day. Remember that Achilles was invulnerable save for his heel.

[idealisme]

[The easy, apparently uncaring response just makes it even harder for Enjolras to contain his frustration.]

You aren't Achilles and this isn't the rape of Troy.

[winecasks]

I don't claim to be.

[ Enjolras, please. ]

I'm not invulnerable, but all men have vulnerabilities.

[idealisme]

You more than most.

[winecasks]

One might almost think you were concerned, Enjolras.

[ He doesn't believe he is. ]

[idealisme]

[Enjolras doesn't believe he is either.]

I don't wish to see any man thrown into a bonfire.

[winecasks]

You wouldn't have been present to see it.

[ Grantaire, please. ]

[idealisme]

[That's too much. His lips press together in an attempt to hide his ire as he refrains from venting.

At last:] If that's all you aspire to, perhaps you ought not have put yourself before the National Guard.

[He ends the conversation there, certain that further discussion wouldn't have placated him. He was harsh, he knows, but he hopes it will spur the drunkard past this ridiculous indifference to his own death.]