Open Post: Marketing

[futaille]

Now that things have managed to settle down after the havoc of this month's event from the mansion spirits, Grantaire has set his sights on a much more organic event. He did as promised and improved upon Enjolras' early attempt at a flier. It even passed Apollo's judgment and was printed. So now Grantaire is dutifully walking around the mansion with a stack of fliers to post them in whatever public areas he comes across, even venturing outside to hang them up in outbuildings, and enough were printed that there are plenty of extras to be handed out personally if anyone seems curious.

He's of course sure not everyone will come, but the more people do, the more it will seem right, as far as he's concerned, so he's perfectly willing to pitch the event to anyone who seems the least bit amenable to one. Apparently he can stay on task with proper motivation.

Comments

[futaille]

"I never once said I minded. Just that it's surprising." As long as Grantaire likes might be a tall order, it should probably be pointed out. It is, after all, Grantaire that we're talking about here.

[untamedantinous]

"Yes, but as we've said before, many things about this place are."

[futaille]

"Thankfully, more pleasant surprises than not."

[untamedantinous]

"Mmmhm." He's going to take the opportunity to press a small kiss to Grantaire's cheek.

[futaille]

That would be a small, content hum. "Christ, I am a spoiled man."

[untamedantinous]

"Oh, are you?"

[futaille]

He waves a hand absently, encompassing, well, everything. "Obviously."

[untamedantinous]

"Well. I cannot have you getting spoiled." He makes no effort to move away, however, instead proceeding to kiss his way down Grantaire's jaw. "I am not, however, certain what I should do about that at the present."

[futaille]

He very much cannot help the small, pleased, high-pitched noise that comes from somewhere in the back of his throat at that. "I'll... try to behave."

[untamedantinous]

That noise does get him to still and he looks for a moment like a frightened fawn, eyes wide and a little uncertain. He had not expected that, nor had he expected the answering jolt in his stomach --he wants to hear it again. (He knows, vaguely, that he plans to hear it again at some point. But not now.) "Mm. Perhaps I should, too," he says after a long moment. "It is not the time."

[futaille]

He clears his throat. "Yes, of course. Apologies. You know, it's really quite a nice fireplace."

[untamedantinous]

"It is," he agrees, with an amused lipquirk, that look slowly fading from his face. "I...mm. It does seem a little warm in here, however."

[futaille]

He laughs a little, running a hand through his hair, which just succeeds in making it puff out in strange directions. "Yes, well, a bit."

[untamedantinous]

"You are a mess," he says with some fondness. "Courfeyrac would be appalled." Or jealous. Possibly both.

[futaille]

"Let Courfeyrac be appalled. Wouldn't be the first time."

[untamedantinous]

"He can be fairly appalling himself." He is still, at least, close enough to try and attempt to fix Grantaire's hair just a bit. "I shall help, for his sake."

[futaille]

He smiles wryly. "I'm sure he'd thank you for watching after my sensibilities."

[untamedantinous]

"Oh, quite probably." There's a small smile.

[futaille]

"Is my hair repaired to your exacting standards?"

[untamedantinous]

"Yes, though they are not quite as exacting as his are."

[futaille]

He laughs. "It didn't start out to his exacting standards, either."

[untamedantinous]

"Well, neither does mine almost all of the time."

[futaille]

"Which is ridiculous." He reaches up and plays with Enjolras' curls a little bit. "His standards are flawed."

[untamedantinous]

He lets his eyes drift closed, enjoying the feeling of Grantaire's fingers against his scalp. "Fashion tends to be so."

[futaille]

He smiles a little, continuing to play with his hair. "Depends on the fashion. Men are fickle creatures, so fashion's fickle too."