[Patience is not usually one of Enjolras' virtues, but perhaps death has mellowed him some. He waits, quiets his temper a little.]
You're well acquainted with the various types? You must have been here some time. [They still had manners here, didn't they? He used them seldom enough when he'd been alive.] Thank you, monsieur.
Had a focus. Ah, I dislike that past tense. I died that the land of my home might come closer to becoming a more just place. A Republic ruled by the people rather than a monarchy ruled by a vain despot.
[If his defence wasn't already up, the attempt at magic has him even more uneasy. He is a student of l'ecoles, educated in philosophy, logic, and reason. Religion has only the tiniest sliver of relevance to his life, superstitious nonsense such as this has no place at all.
He scowls.] Your charlatan tricks have no business here. If you will not help me, then find another to trick. Better yet, take up honest work instead.
[Diana is a patient, polite young lady, and she's used to interacting with those who don't see the need for-- or are actively hostile to-- magic and witches. Furthermore, she's learned that not everyone here is from a place where magic is commonplace.
So she doesn't take it too personally.
But there's the slightest twitch of her eyebrow when she's called a charlatan. She keeps her voice steady.] May I suggest you actually try the fruit before accusing me of deception?
Whether or not you find it hard to believe doesn't change the reality of the situation. [She frowns.] Bouden Dariard. The flavoring spell; a spell that can change the taste of a given food.
Really, if you'd just try it, you'd see that I'm not lying.
[Reason dictates that she cannot have changed anything.
Reason dictates that he should not be here, standing on this vessel untethered to any Earth. He attempts a second taste.
If anything his scowl only grows more confused and intense.] You called it a spell, so you claim to do magic? Was it the stick or the words which effected the change?
[She runs a hand up inside her wavy blonde hair, pushing it back over her shoulder and trying to keep her patience.] I don't "claim" to do anything; I'm telling you that I can do magic.
It was neither. Both are merely focal points for one's inner power. You could wave the wand and say the words and nothing would happen.
It isn't that he cares whether magic is possible, it's that- rationally he has know it cannot be. Science is the driving force of man.]
This "inner power"... it's not a rarity where you're from? Where I am from only uneducated and gullible believe in magic [The word sits poorly on his tongue]
It's not common. Generally, only the children of magical families have any interest in its study. [She pauses, and for a moment there's a wistful expression on her face as she glances to the side. She's thinking of a girl in the pods.] But there's nothing prohibiting anyone from trying, though they'd likely struggle harder with it.
One of the finest witches I've known came from a non-magical background. [A slight shrug. She's less testy now that she's not being called a liar.] Much of the world has no use for us, though. They'd prefer advances in technology.
Emotion sits uneasily with Enjolras, when it is not that passion that stirs when he thinks of France and the Republic that will some day come to be (they may have failed, but he believes it still. He must).
To have a witness to these thanks puts him off balance. ] It is not farewell, madame. I give them my thanks, for they gave their lives in pursuit of something great.
[The reply isn't what she was expecting, and it sends a cold shock through her stomach. Her clenched jaw softens, and she steps back a few inches, mentally chastising her social judgment.]
I'm sorry. [Her eyes flick up to the pods, to the men's - boys' - faces.] What was their cause?
Liberty. [He squares his shoulders, turn to look this woman square in the face.]
We raised revolution against a corrupt and oppressive system of government, calling for the rights of the people- of the citizens -to be upheld. [There is conviction here that will not be gainsaid. They may have died, but it was for the best cause.]
[It takes Clara a moment to gather her response, standing in the raw truth of his gaze. This is why she travels, she reminds herself, catching a breath she doesn't need. She sees magnificent, alien beauty, but she also sees the very best of her own species.
Tilting her head in, she lowers her voice.]
It'll happen, one day. There'll be more fights like yours, but they won't be for nothing.
Of course. [That brings a smile as he turns to look back at his sleeping friends; proud to find someone else who holds a torch for freedom.] The people will find their voice.
[An angry scowl flashes across Enjolras' face, pulling his eyebrows together as he looks up and across the kitchen at the young man. He holds the man's gaze a moment, then looks to the bottle.
The dismissive tch is audible throughout the room, and Enjolras looks away again. He won't dignify that with a response.]]
His smile takes on a puzzled edge, his forehead wrinkling a little as he tries to figure Grantaire's meaning.] The cautious fear death, which we have already experienced.
It's true the people did not join us, but we have set the example. Others will follow. [Was that it? Did the man fear it had all been for nothing?]
[ That much is true. He only feared facing a world without Enjolras in it, so he followed him to the grave. Grantaire has never been a cautious man either, but he hesitates now, far more than he ever has. He gazes up at Enjolras, eyebrows knitted together, and although his belief in the other man hasn’t wavered, he knows it’s only a matter of time until his same old habits take hold again and turn him back into the disappointment that Enjolras once so disdained.
He can’t decide if he should say something now, or save it for later. It’s killing him. ]
Why do you think you’ve been proven mistaken? It's recklessness.
[Enjolras is sensitive to the way he looks down while Grantaire looks up. He remedies it, and finds that kneeling beside the man places them more equally.
Still, there is a breath before he speaks. He has never reached this man before. All the arguments of Les Amis were not enough to sway the cynic from his drunken nothings- but that was before. He will essay it again.]
When I bared my breast to the National Guard I thought you long gone or well asleep. I expected there was nothing to keep you at the barricade; you had so little conviction that our purpose would drive you away. No- I must be honest, for brothers do not lie to each other. I did not think of you at that last moment. I thought only of my death, and I feared that it might bring no change. Perhaps Combeferre was more right than he knew, suggesting that society changes but slowly? I did not believe him then, I don't wish to believe him now. But! Then you were before me, the man I had so confidently declared incapable anything there offering to die at my side. [Enjolras presses his hand again, certain he has reached the man.] I am not reckless in thanking you for joining me then, for proving me wrong.
anne we're going to die from this thread aren't we
[ Whether Enjolras stands taller than him or kneels, Grantaire still gazes upon him with all the adoration of a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. What has he done to earn this sort of reverence from Enjolras? He isn’t Courfeyrac or Combeferre or Joly or Feuilly or any of the others. It’s true that he gave his life, but he didn’t fight as they did, and he didn’t die in the same manner.
He searches the other man’s face, smiling sadly. How can he possibly tell him the truth of the matter? ]
I know what it is you died for. You and our dear, valiant friends.
[ For all his drunkenness and skepticism, Grantaire knows his friends well. He knows their rhetoric, knows their views, knows what lit the fire of revolution in their hearts. None of it ever affected him. Enjolras’s hand pressing against his own serving as a painful reminder of just how parched his throat really is and just how easily this acceptance, this thing he’s wanted so badly, can be ripped away. ]
But I never felt the same contempt for the monarchy. I never partook in your revolution. Do you believe that you and I died for the same cause? It is imprudent to name me brother, and foolhardy to think yourself mistaken so quickly. Thus far, I have proven you wrong in only one endeavor. I am capable of dying.
[It takes long moments to understand what the dark haired man is saying. Is that the problem, he wonders, have they been speaking at cross-purposes all this time?
But no- it is familiar, when he finally hears it. The same lack of belief spoken- but now as a wall Grantaire seems to want to build between them. It silences Enjolras to hear it.
Softness does not come naturally to him. He is capable of it, when he recognises the need, but the instinct is to fight, to press on without surrender. Perhaps that is not what is needed now.]
You are capable of dying. You, capable of saying of saying "vive la revolution". Capable of standing at my side, pressing my hand, facing the National Guard with me. [Perhaps a soft voice will reach the man.] Capable of facing this new world with me.
[ When he sees what he thinks is understanding on the other man’s face, he expects to be turned away in an instant. Surely the entire thing will come as a massive disappointment, and surely Grantaire will come as the biggest disappointment of them all, but Enjolras only reiterates. Neither his words nor his tone are cruel.
This time, Grantaire is the one who falls silent, blinking in the artificial light, dumbfounded. When he finds his tongue again, his voice is soft with a different sort of disbelief; something more akin to awe, as though he’s just been handed the rarest and most precious thing anyone could possibly offer him. ]
[Grantaire did not believe in the revolution. He did not share their ideals- but he shared their deaths. It seems as though Enjolras is reaching him now, that he will accept the name 'brother'. He presses his hand again, still smiling.]
Many times. [There's no point lying. They both know how Enjolras has responded to the man's cynicism and uselessness in the past.] In this? The opposite.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@tactly
Are you familiar with this new place? You sound sure of yourself.
@triplerose
[Patience is not usually one of Enjolras' virtues, but perhaps death has mellowed him some. He waits, quiets his temper a little.]
You're well acquainted with the various types? You must have been here some time. [They still had manners here, didn't they? He used them seldom enough when he'd been alive.] Thank you, monsieur.
@shikomizue
What good does a vagrant achieve? None. Moreover I have already died, it won't serve to do it again.
idfk why i replied on the tdm im sorry IGNORE THAT
Some recognition for your good will?
I WILL NOT IGNORE IT
FOREVER SHAMED
Do you think you can find something like that here, in a place you don't know with people who aren't yours?
IT'S OKAY I STILL ACCEPT YOU
This is a different land with different problems. I'd be foolish to look for a similar cause. But I'll not abandon all my passion either.
doki
Passion with no where to focus it - that's a dangerous affliction.
no subject
Had a focus. Ah, I dislike that past tense. I died that the land of my home might come closer to becoming a more just place. A Republic ruled by the people rather than a monarchy ruled by a vain despot.
no subject
But he's had friends. Past tense. Who tasked themselves with as much.]
I don't suppose you were killed by the very society you were trying to protect?
@fiendennor
[If his defence wasn't already up, the attempt at magic has him even more uneasy. He is a student of l'ecoles, educated in philosophy, logic, and reason. Religion has only the tiniest sliver of relevance to his life, superstitious nonsense such as this has no place at all.
He scowls.] Your charlatan tricks have no business here. If you will not help me, then find another to trick. Better yet, take up honest work instead.
no subject
So she doesn't take it too personally.
But there's the slightest twitch of her eyebrow when she's called a charlatan. She keeps her voice steady.] May I suggest you actually try the fruit before accusing me of deception?
no subject
[Yeah, he's not going to try it again just because you said to.]
no subject
Really, if you'd just try it, you'd see that I'm not lying.
no subject
Reason dictates that he should not be here, standing on this vessel untethered to any Earth. He attempts a second taste.
If anything his scowl only grows more confused and intense.] You called it a spell, so you claim to do magic? Was it the stick or the words which effected the change?
no subject
It was neither. Both are merely focal points for one's inner power. You could wave the wand and say the words and nothing would happen.
no subject
It isn't that he cares whether magic is possible, it's that- rationally he has know it cannot be. Science is the driving force of man.]
This "inner power"... it's not a rarity where you're from? Where I am from only uneducated and gullible believe in magic [The word sits poorly on his tongue]
no subject
One of the finest witches I've known came from a non-magical background. [A slight shrug. She's less testy now that she's not being called a liar.] Much of the world has no use for us, though. They'd prefer advances in technology.
@vocable
A difficult task, given that everything to which a man might belong is now destroyed by this storm.
@ohmyclara
Emotion sits uneasily with Enjolras, when it is not that passion that stirs when he thinks of France and the Republic that will some day come to be (they may have failed, but he believes it still. He must).
To have a witness to these thanks puts him off balance. ] It is not farewell, madame. I give them my thanks, for they gave their lives in pursuit of something great.
no subject
I'm sorry. [Her eyes flick up to the pods, to the men's - boys' - faces.] What was their cause?
[The outfit certainly gives her a clue.]
no subject
We raised revolution against a corrupt and oppressive system of government, calling for the rights of the people- of the citizens -to be upheld. [There is conviction here that will not be gainsaid. They may have died, but it was for the best cause.]
no subject
Tilting her head in, she lowers her voice.]
It'll happen, one day. There'll be more fights like yours, but they won't be for nothing.
no subject
@disley
[An angry scowl flashes across Enjolras' face, pulling his eyebrows together as he looks up and across the kitchen at the young man. He holds the man's gaze a moment, then looks to the bottle.
The dismissive tch is audible throughout the room, and Enjolras looks away again. He won't dignify that with a response.]]
@THEWORSTPERSONWHOMAKESMEFEELTHINGS
[This is not the expected reception.
His smile takes on a puzzled edge, his forehead wrinkling a little as he tries to figure Grantaire's meaning.] The cautious fear death, which we have already experienced.
It's true the people did not join us, but we have set the example. Others will follow. [Was that it? Did the man fear it had all been for nothing?]
THAT'S ME
[ That much is true. He only feared facing a world without Enjolras in it, so he followed him to the grave. Grantaire has never been a cautious man either, but he hesitates now, far more than he ever has. He gazes up at Enjolras, eyebrows knitted together, and although his belief in the other man hasn’t wavered, he knows it’s only a matter of time until his same old habits take hold again and turn him back into the disappointment that Enjolras once so disdained.
He can’t decide if he should say something now, or save it for later. It’s killing him. ]
Why do you think you’ve been proven mistaken? It's recklessness.
TAKE THAT
Still, there is a breath before he speaks. He has never reached this man before. All the arguments of Les Amis were not enough to sway the cynic from his drunken nothings- but that was before. He will essay it again.]
When I bared my breast to the National Guard I thought you long gone or well asleep. I expected there was nothing to keep you at the barricade; you had so little conviction that our purpose would drive you away. No- I must be honest, for brothers do not lie to each other. I did not think of you at that last moment. I thought only of my death, and I feared that it might bring no change. Perhaps Combeferre was more right than he knew, suggesting that society changes but slowly? I did not believe him then, I don't wish to believe him now. But! Then you were before me, the man I had so confidently declared incapable anything there offering to die at my side. [Enjolras presses his hand again, certain he has reached the man.] I am not reckless in thanking you for joining me then, for proving me wrong.
anne we're going to die from this thread aren't we
He searches the other man’s face, smiling sadly. How can he possibly tell him the truth of the matter? ]
I know what it is you died for. You and our dear, valiant friends.
[ For all his drunkenness and skepticism, Grantaire knows his friends well. He knows their rhetoric, knows their views, knows what lit the fire of revolution in their hearts. None of it ever affected him. Enjolras’s hand pressing against his own serving as a painful reminder of just how parched his throat really is and just how easily this acceptance, this thing he’s wanted so badly, can be ripped away. ]
But I never felt the same contempt for the monarchy. I never partook in your revolution. Do you believe that you and I died for the same cause? It is imprudent to name me brother, and foolhardy to think yourself mistaken so quickly. Thus far, I have proven you wrong in only one endeavor. I am capable of dying.
i am ready to die
But no- it is familiar, when he finally hears it. The same lack of belief spoken- but now as a wall Grantaire seems to want to build between them. It silences Enjolras to hear it.
Softness does not come naturally to him. He is capable of it, when he recognises the need, but the instinct is to fight, to press on without surrender. Perhaps that is not what is needed now.]
You are capable of dying. You, capable of saying of saying "vive la revolution". Capable of standing at my side, pressing my hand, facing the National Guard with me. [Perhaps a soft voice will reach the man.] Capable of facing this new world with me.
no subject
This time, Grantaire is the one who falls silent, blinking in the artificial light, dumbfounded. When he finds his tongue again, his voice is soft with a different sort of disbelief; something more akin to awe, as though he’s just been handed the rarest and most precious thing anyone could possibly offer him. ]
Have I not disappointed you?
no subject
Many times. [There's no point lying. They both know how Enjolras has responded to the man's cynicism and uselessness in the past.] In this? The opposite.