He hates protests ¬_¬

[delabc]

You know I've only agreed to attend the odd protest-- for observation. For artistic purposes. [ He looks rather baleful. ] It's reflective of the times. I'm an art student. I'm obligated.

What? Do you think I enjoy waving a placard around on the main quad? [ No, you just enjoy watching certain individuals waving placards around on the quad :| ]

Comments

[patrie]

( it's not even about world hunger. it's about a lack of political accountability. it's about governments handing huge bailouts to large corporations but refusing things like social services. it's about the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer, trying to climb their way up a system that doesn't work. it's about a military that does what it likes, and the fact that people all over the world are fighting for such basic rights. enjolras is a privileged, rich white boy in a society that gives him every advantage. why shouldn't he use that to do something about how broken this is? grantaire's tone is flat and his expression is angry, but enjolras remains staunch in the face of that, even if his tone is fierce. )

The problem with that rhetoric is that everyone believes they can't do anything, and no one does anything. You can accept what is. I won't.

( grantaire is the first to let up, but enjolras isn't naive enough to think that it's because of his stunning argumentation or anything like that ( but it could be, he's on the debate team, he wins everything ). the explanation seems like a veil. like it's obfuscating something, or hinting at something. )

What is that supposed to mean?

[delabc]

[ Somehow, despite attending all the rallies and the protests, Grantaire still hasn't managed to actually pick up on what the real topic of said rallies and protests are (barring the odd rhetoric that filters through from the megaphones and slogans). Potentially, it's got something to do with the fact that whenever politics are mentioned, he's in possession of the immediate urge to either sleep or drink himself to oblivion. However, when politics are mentioned by Enjolras, he's more likely to try and get some kind of a reaction.

So he'll play devil's advocate, and enjoy the wind up. Archly: ] So, what makes you so special? Like I said, a corrupt government isn't going to give you the time of day. They probably have, I don't know, weapons and bad attitudes to sort that out.

[ (Obviously he's on the debate team. Obviously). Grantaire rolls his eyes, but there's not much heat there, he's not got any belief in his argument, or in Enjolras'. And his tone is different, lower-- and he takes a moment to answer, doubling back on his own point in favour of stuttering a little: ] You-- it's, I mean-- if anyone were to, I don't know, topple governments in Uganda, Zimbabwe, whatever, it'd be you.

[patrie]

( there's an inherent contradiction in grantaire's words that he spots, and this is the kind of thing that enjolras knows above all else. reasoning, making those logical links and following them back to the source of their belief. he studies politics, but he reads philosophy voraciously, and it shows in the way that he approaches knowledge, approaches discourse. not that he'd ever admit to being wrong, or doubt his cause. that's grantaire's job. )

You just told me that I wasn't special. That governments and corrupt officials aren't going to give me the time of day. And then you tell me that you believe I can topple them. Which is it?

( he's -- he's faltering? grantaire is actually faltering? enjolras doesn't hold him as an equal. but this, this is interesting. )

[delabc]

[ He's always been eloquent, but how to word this leaves him at odds, a little. On one hand, he desperately wants to subvert the whole 'save the world, end corruption' jingle, because-- it's stupid. On the other, he's faced with someone he finds personally remarkable-- extraordinary to look at, and idiotically brave and he's torn between arguing back and just caving.

But he's not entirely sure how well received you're wonderfully attractive and generally lovely, but your cause is retarded would be. In fact, he's almost sure that if he were to get into a scuffle, that would probably be the phrase to go for.

For now he settles for looking disinterested, waving a hand in order to shrug it off. ] You know, let's do this another time. I mean-- it's pointless. Arguing about it is just, you know, going to make us late for-- whatever. The Musain. Class.

[ He shifts, for once happier to concede his case and beat a retreat than really admit to much. However, he doesn't turn on his heel. ]

[patrie]

( if it's strange for grantaire to falter, it's even stranger for him to concede, because they butt heads every time they talk, but it's always enjolras who puts an end to it, because it isn't productive. because he has things to do, a meeting to conduct. grantaire as he knew him was happy to bandy words and trade semantics, because words were ineffective and took no stance; they were perfect for a cynic. anyone could talk. acting was the more difficult thing.

but grantaire backs off for once without a long, drawn out speech about the futility of their actions, which are delivered so often that enjolras often asks himself why he lets grantaire into the group at all. but he does, and he lets him speak his piece for what it's worth sometimes, which makes this even stranger.

enjolras checks his watch. )

The meeting is not for another hour yet. If you were planning to show up.

[delabc]

[ Maybe it's because he's close to making a stupid, confessional comment-- one that could potentially end his (short-lived) good standing with their idealistic leader-- because certainly, in most cases, he would keep arguing, enlisting quotes from every nihilistic bastard's texts he's read; they may lean towards the humanities department's sort of thing; the odd poet thrown into the mix alongside the smattering of political texts, but he's not above using his own kind of rhetoric to snap back. Because if Enjolras can front a good argument, Grantaire is usually quick to produce his own counter-argument, and so it goes. Maybe he just enjoys it. But not today. Regrettably sober, he's aware that backing off is wiser, for continued sanity's sake.

He looks vaguely put out. ] I wasn't.

[ As an afterthought: ] Art prac thing, you know. Studio's closing early, so yeah, sadly-- tragically I'll have to miss that meeting of yours.

[ He's quick to grin; crooked and flippant, but still reserved for Enjolras. ] Don't be too disappointed.

oh man, grantaire has got it bad.

[patrie]

( yet for every time that grantaire chooses to quote satre, or nietzsche, enjolras knows rousseau and rawls, talks about freedom like a concept that can be quantified. hell is other people, says satre, and nihilists talk about how life is meaningless, but if that's the case, then what is the point of living at all? enjolras is a creature that is incapable of being devoid of purpose. more than repudiating all of grantaire's lazy, wasteful habits, he's also unable to understand him on that base level, because he cannot conceptualize a world without something to strive for. it is a cleavage between them that will probably never be reconciled.

but they've had this conversation before, it's true. and he has things to do and more important ways to spend his time than conversing with grantaire. it's exciting and a cause for unease all at once; they aren't only protesting any more. they aren't only handing out pamphlets - it was inevitable. there are only so many placards one can hold up before an appetite for real change is cultivated. what they are planning is both illegal and dangerous, but that's never stopped enjolras before. )

Suit yourself.

( there's a frown that pulls at his face, more stern than the pensive look he normally sports, a kind of odd determination that might be enough to tip off somebody who knows him well. enjolras is the one to turn and head towards the other side of campus. he does not wave. he does not call out to grantaire.

well, that's life. )

he totally does. poor boy.

[delabc]

[ The Musain is looking like a good point of retreat, and, clipped farewell aside, he watches Enjolras' back-- musing on the encounter. Because while they've never particularly clicked, there's more terseness now than before; maybe he ought to have argued. He's mostly unconcerned; because on one hand he's nursing a bit of an artist's infatuation-- whereas on the other, he's not actually fond of the man's personality itself-- which is rather a vital chink. Maybe it's down to radical differences, but the slew of idealistic theorizing can be grating.

The other's changing expression, odd though it was, is unnoticed.

Mostly, he's annoyed. Exponentially so-- because he's annoyed at the fact that this has the power to annoy him. And turning towards the opposite quad, a final glance over his shoulder at the offending back, he's resolved to get completely shit-faced, then attempt to stretch canvases.

Grantaire doesn't see himself as devoid of purpose-- well, not entirely-- but, he reasons, at least he's not nursing a Napoleon complex more dramatic than Howard Roark's.

So it goes, and he continues to sulk on route to the fine arts building-- a passing glare offered to the department of philosophy's offices. ]