video, un: revolution

[idealisme]

What would you die for?


[There's no preamble. Enjolras is not in the mood to set the scene. He's been thinking and gotten nowhere so he wants the input of others. Over his shoulder it's apparent his room a shambles, a young man living alone with his mind on things other than housekeeping.]

For myself there's a cause that I've given all my life to. It's the highest ideal I can imagine. I know that is not a usual thing. Life is precious; until I woke up here I'd have said that death precluded any second chances at it. But that's beside the point.

I ask because I thought I others shared my opinions. It is rational to give your life only for the most important ideal. Sacrificing yourself for just anything- to get any item or even for another person... [His lips pinch together in thought, his eyes look distant for a moment.] I have not been able to reconcile it.

[A quick sigh escapes him, frustrated.]

I would appreciate your sincere answers and insights. Thank you.

Comments

[idealisme]

I don't avoid it. I say it is ridiculous. [He takes a breath and closes his mouth as if he's going to stop.

But he doesn't.] Belief in a man is- nonsense. What am I to be believed in? I have ideals, I have passion, I have a picture of a future in my imagination that I work towards. Those are the things which, any man who sees me should aspire to. But you? You despise all those things. You cynic!

[He's been thinking on this quite a while, obviously.]

[winecasks]

[ It’s true, Grantaire is a cynic. He despises and mocks the things his friends love and work toward, but then there’s Enjolras. Enjolas is everything that Grantaire isn’t, a man who soars at heights far above Grantaire, yet beyond the rare and failed attempt, he will never even try to reach such heights himself. He loves and admires Enjolras on a level that he isn't certain how to put into words, but he doesn’t expect to be called out on his contradictions, and in an instant, he’s lost his tongue and his argument completely. ]

If you ask me to explain, I cannot.

[idealisme]

[The noise Enjolras makes is familiar, a frustrated huff of breath as he shakes his head and leans back in his chair.

It's more frustrated than usual.]

I asked no one to die for me. [He's said it before, but he's saying it again.]

[winecasks]

Do you believe I intended it as a favor to you?

[ He smiles, ever so slightly. Enjolras has never needed anything from him, least of all for his singular belief. If he believed in something else, if he believed in the cause, perhaps, but not for this. He knew it before he even said anything. ]

I’m quite a selfish man, in truth. More selfish than Midas himself, though I regret nothing of my decision. It was for me, Enjolras. I did it for myself.

[idealisme]

[Grantaire smiles and Enjolras frowns.

There's a pause before he replies, because he can't forget that he'd been glad for himself that Grantaire had been there.]

Selfish? What did you gain from it?

[winecasks]

A great deal.

[ It’s a frustratingly vague response and paired with that smile, it’s made even more mysterious. He wanted to die by Enjolras’ side, accepted, but he doesn’t expect he has the words to make Enjolras understand, so he doesn’t try. ]

[idealisme]

[Scowling.] You're infuriating.

[winecasks]

[ He knows. He smiles anyway. ]

You continue to speak to me regardless.

[idealisme]

[ His lips press into a thin line: you're right but I don't want to admit it. ]

[winecasks]

[ Grantaire is not quite finished being irritating, though. The smile hasn’t faded, and he continues to spout off ridiculous truths. ]

I would dearly miss the sound of your voice if ever you decided to change that.

[idealisme]

[With a sigh Enjolras pushes his chair back and makes for his room- almost as though he's given up on Grantaire for the night.

But a minute later he's back, a book in hand.]

Here. I asked the Orbiters for more books and they gave me this. [It's deposited without ceremony on the table beside Grantaire.]

[winecasks]

[ Grantaire is nearly ready to collapse back onto the couch in anguish at having been abandoned, but then Enjolras returns. That’s surprise enough, but when he presents Grantaire with a hand-me-down gift, that’s more than he can take. He’s genuinely astonished, and it shows.

Even more so when he cracks open the book. He had been expecting a copy of Enjolras’ ever-beloved Social Contract, but what he finds is far different. ]

I have never seen anything like these.

[ The art is unlike anything he was ever told to paint as a student. Perhaps part of tat is why he grew so very frustrated with it all. ]

The Salon would reject these immediately. Viewers would be most appalled.

[ He turns page after page, a mix of amusement and what might even be…joy? on his face. ]

They’re wonderful.

[idealisme]

[ Enjolras has picked up his communicator again, seeing he has more messages. Perhaps those discussions will prove more fruitful. ]

Look at the date. Almost two hundred years in the future. [That had been what had drawn Enjolras' interest. What was that world like? They would never know.]

[winecasks]

[ Unlike the news of the monarchy being overthrown, this book and the pictures within it seem to have some kind of real effect on Grantaire. He’s always known that art changes and evolves, but this is different, far beyond anything he’s ever seen in his entire life, and it almost feels as though he might be inspired by something else for the first time in a very long time. ]

Enjolras.

[ He’s almost speechless, lingering on a particularly morbid painting. He understands immediately. These pieces are more emotion than they are representation. He wonders if someone like Enjolras understands that. Doubtful. ]

Thank you. I was a student of art for a time, but I often forget even myself just how much I once loved it.

[idealisme]

[His attention is already back on the device, but there's something in Grantaire's voice that gets Enjolras' proper attention. He'd thought to give him the book to distract him and finally have some peace, but that's backfired because when he looks up to see... a strange expression on the man's face he frowns again.

He'd thumbed through the book (it's a book, of course he thumbed through it) and found nothing to inspire such a reaction. It's like the poetry book all over again.]

I couldn't make heads or tails of half of it.

[winecasks]

[ And so his theory is (mostly) proven. Enjolras doesn’t understand. Grantaire doesn’t care, and he doesn’t intend to make Enjolras understand if he doesn’t want to. ]

Half of it?

[ He smiles fondly, first at the book in question, then at Enjolras. His expression doesn’t change at all between the two. ]

That is far more than I would have expected. Which half did you understand?

[idealisme]

[ Don't call him out on this!!!



Almost affronted.] The names and dates.

[ He's had months to learn Grantaire's expressions. His reaction to the book is puzzling to say the least. ]

[winecasks]

[ It’s such a very Enjolras thing to say, and Grantaire can only laugh. ]

My mathematics have always been poor, but I do not believe that the names and dates make up even a fourth of this book.

[ He will call you out forever, pal. ]

You have no need for it, then, this book?

[idealisme]

[A contemptuous snort is all the answer Enjolras will give to that question.



But he's still watching the man.]

[winecasks]

[ The soft expression on his faces as he flips through the pages isn’t far from the expression he often gazes at Enjolras with. Weird, right?

When he doesn’t get a response, he glances up once more. ]

Was I wrong? I will gladly return it to your personal library if that is the case. Though, we’ll soon be in need of another room for all these books. Where will we put Jehan?

[idealisme]

[ When he looks up he'll find Enjolras watching him with a puzzled frown. ]

I have no need of it. Keep it if you like it.

[winecasks]

[ Grantaire just assumes that’s his normal face, really. It's typically what he finds when Enjolras looks at him; either that, or disdain. He prefers the former. ]

You have no interest in the artwork of the future whatsoever? It may speak to the political climate of the time. You do have a great deal of interest in that.

[ A bit low? Maybe, but not untrue. ]