Open Post: La savate et le chausson

[futaille]

Much to his satisfaction, Grantaire has been able to keep up with many of his hobbies unabated during his time at the mansion. Not all of them, though, mostly because they were ones he'd go to specific spots for, and with those spots not being here in addition to an abundance of his other hobbies, they more or less fell by the wayside.

However, a recent chat with Dionysus has reminded him that he has very much neglected his 'hitting things' level. Although he didn't find a crash test dummy, the thought being on his mind ended up in him stumbling upon a small gym tucked away, complete with some equipment including a standing punching bag.

So he's discarded his waistcoat and cravat over a bench and is practicing his savate¹.

¹French kickboxing! During R's time it was basically for streetfighting, and just beginning to get formalized, but there are some cool vintage videos on youtube (Here and here) to give the... vibe.

Comments

[sagramore]

"I assumed thou hadst wine enough for us all."

[futaille]

"That... is probably a safe assumption."

[sagramore]

"I'm relieved not to be disappointed."

[futaille]

It helps a bit when he has the actual god of wine frequently visiting and bringing presents. "I think a red. They seem more luxurious."

[sagramore]

"Very good."

Sagramore sets the pillows down on Grantaire's bed -- one at the head, for him to lounge on, and one at the foot, upon which he places the durian -- and then takes a pack of matches from his pocket to light the candle.

[futaille]

Grantaire opens a bottle and pours a couple of glasses. "The perfect setup, clearly."

[sagramore]

"I'm trying to be a good acolyte."

[futaille]

"The durian god clearly deserves the greatest of acolytes."

[sagramore]

"It does, and I don't want to disappoint it! How does the space feel? Ripe for oracular activity?"

[futaille]

He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. "Yes. I think this will do nicely."

[sagramore]

"Wonderful. Shall we have a glass of wine before thou beginst?"

[futaille]

He holds up the glasses he poured not long previously. "But of course."

[sagramore]

"Marvelous." He takes his own and toasts the durian on its pillow-altar.

[futaille]

He toasts the durian as well. "May the deity smile upon my meager efforts."

[sagramore]

"May the deity bless thee with its words." He drinks.

[futaille]

He nods emphatically and drinks as well.

[sagramore]

Once the glass is emptied, Sagramore sits down beside the candle and fans it very gently, wafting the scent towards Grantaire.

[futaille]

He finishes his own glass and sets it down, sitting at the head of the bed and propping himself up with the pillow. He closes his eyes and takes in the scent of the candle.

[sagramore]

"We should have had music," Sagramore murmurs, but after that he falls silent, letting Grantaire receive his messages from the durian.

[futaille]

He takes in the scent of the Yankee candle and thinks durian thoughts.

"All I'm envisioning is glory. One can't tarnish the soul of a deity through a mere earthly shell, as the deity is transcendent. The result of the art is worth the process."

[sagramore]

"Oh, so thou canst hurl its sacredness from the third floor window."

[futaille]

He opens his eyes and grins. "Absolutely. As long as the space below is clear of passers-by."

[sagramore]

"Are there any other messages?"

[futaille]

He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath of apple pie candle. "When complete, the distillation will be worth every second it took to get there."

[sagramore]

"Oh, that's a relief. It's been a lot of seconds."