Closed Post: If at first...

[futaille]

Grantaire has seen the coffee maker being used in passing. He has not had to use it himself, as usually when he's in the kitchen, he opts for other beverages. But he knows he really should speak to Enjolras. And he also knows that even if Enjolras already has coffee, that coffee will probably either be horrible or it will have congealed into unrecognizable sludge that he will still somehow be attempting to drink, and that's just not acceptable.

So he's bound and determined to make Enjolras some coffee. It can't be that difficult, right? He grabs a bottle of wine, just to sip at while it brews. (Also, to fortify his courage. He's surely going to need it.)

On his first attempt, he has no idea what happened. Cleanup is a chore, but he actually gets assistance with both cleanup and strategy from a helpful mademoiselle with quite a bit of hair who explains the need for coffee filters, as well as the general steps one needs to take to brew the coffee in this thing. She's apparently taken one apart.

The second pot actually manages to brew into actual coffee without grounds everywhere. But upon tasting, he didn't use nearly enough coffee. Rejected.

Third pot? Too much. Rejected.

The fourth pot looks promising but the coffee is just nowhere near as good as he wants to present to Enjolras.

He finds a different variety of coffee for the fifth pot. It looks much more like it. But that sets the ratios all askew again.

Finally. Finally, pot number six turns out to be what he was looking for. He pours it into a large insulated mug that he finds in a cabinet, puts the lid on tightly, and heads off with a large mug of hot coffee in one hand, and a (now...) half-bottle of wine in the other.

There's a conversation that needs to be had.

Comments

[futaille]

He shrugs. "It doesn't need to be focused. Let anyone who comes talk about what they want." A grin grows on his face. "If no one wants to talk, I'm sure I could manage to fill the time."

[untamedantinous]

“Oh, I have no doubt you could,” still extremely dry, and he shakes his head slowly, but still with a glint of amusement. “I do not think the mansion needs your version of the Marseillaise when they do not even know the proper one.”

[futaille]

Grantaire laughs, just a bit, and has a drink of his wine. "Now, I'm sure some here know the proper one." His smile grows wry. "That said, I have several versions. Which one are you referring to?"

[untamedantinous]

“Any one of them, I should think,” pertly. “I have heard all of them, I believe.” He takes another sip of his coffee, settling back in his chair.

[futaille]

"Oh, surely you can't have heard all of them. Most, I will grant, but I'm certain that there are some variations I originated when you were unfortunately not present." He grins, leaning back in his own seat. "I know you probably dreadfully missed my performances, but I will not hold it against you."

[untamedantinous]

"Regardless, I have heard far too many for my own liking. Of both your performances and the Marseillaise." He shifts in his seat a little, searching for something else to talk about. Now things are starting to get a little awkward, and he doesn't know what to do with himself.

[futaille]

"That is, I suppose, fair." Grantaire does not want to let this drift into one or the both of them running away from each other again, although he has not had nearly enough wine to not have the urge. Still, there is a ready enough topic to hand. "So, what would we need to acquire for a café? A good space, seating... a cold box to drag through the hallways to get to that space..."

[untamedantinous]

"I think they are called a 'fridge'," he supplies helpfully. "Magnus told me so. --And perhaps he might help us, or Laertes, as well." He does have the good grace to not blush at the mention of Laertes. Instead, though, he takes yet another drink of coffee.

"We would also need tables. But this place is large enough that we might find plenty of spares."

[futaille]

"Fridge. Interesting name, but all right. And I met Laertes. Good man." He makes no other comment on the matter, but waves a hand at the rest. "Eh, I was counting tables as part of seating. You can't just have chairs and nowhere to hold your drinks." He pauses. "Unless you put your drinks on other chairs, but do they just count as tables, then?"

[untamedantinous]

"I have never considered it." He generally doesn't consider that sort of thing, he's got better things to worry about. "I don't know, what else is there? Aside from decent company."

[futaille]

"I mean, decent company is the most important part anyway." He shrugs. "If anything is missing, the company makes up for it. Although if the drinks are missing, it really can't be called a café any longer. It's just a room, if a room with good company."

[untamedantinous]

"I would say I would leave it to you to find the drinks, but I do not know if they would even make it to the cafe." He considers this for a moment. "Did you make this coffee? It is quite good."

[futaille]

"Maybe just a drinks cabinet that isn't being used. Even I can't seem to empty one of those." At the question, though, his train of thought shifts. "Oh." He shrugs, as offhandedly as he can make it over the internal thrill of knowing his effort actually worked. "I did, yes. It was no trouble, really."

[untamedantinous]

"It is better than most any I could make. Then again, I am no great cook, either." He has, at least, learned a new dish thanks to Laertes. "It will take some time, but I think we might be able to figure it out sooner or later."

[futaille]

He smiles and takes a long drink. "You know... it may shock you to the core to hear it, but I completely agree with you."

Honestly, he's finally beginning to think it applies to more than just the café, too.

[untamedantinous]

“Do you?” He does look a little surprised. Pleasantly so. “I am pleased to hear it, in that case.”

Perhaps he was right about Grantaire, after all. It is a nice feeling, but he’s going to stop himself from saying so and perhaps ruining things by turning his attention to his coffee again.

[futaille]

He grins. "I will point out that it's not a blanket agreement with everything, and I fully intend to disagree with you in the future. But if I didn't, I would probably be unrecognizable, and I'd like to think you might prefer if I stayed myself."

[untamedantinous]

“I think I quite would, yes.” There’s another small smile, mostly directed at his coffee cup. “Otherwise things might get quite dull around here, and we cannot have that.”

[futaille]

The most that Grantaire had honestly been expecting to come from his statement was a wordless roll of Enjolras's eyes, humoring him regardless. There were a number of other possibilities as well, but unqualified agreement, fond unqualified agreement at that, he was simply unprepared for. It feels almost like getting to the bottom of a staircase but expecting one more step. He has no response ready immediately, so he takes another drink to give himself a moment to come up with one, which finally finishes the bottle.

"Well, I am many things, but dull is certainly not one of them."

[untamedantinous]

Now the expected eyeroll is coming, but it’s still tempered with a smile. “I don’t think we could call any of our friends ‘dull’ in the slightest. They would be quite offended if we did.” There’s a slight pause.

“The same goes for people here, I am finding. Everyone is fascinating.”

[futaille]

"I think people are fascinating in general, at least individually. On the whole, humanity is ridiculous and very probably a bad idea from the start, but individually? Yes, they're excellent. And then combine them in small doses?" He laughs a bit, still delighted by this. "Well, then we have you managing to turn a prince into a revolutionary."

[untamedantinous]

He blinks a little, setting his coffee down for a moment at that. “Laertes is not—“

It’s an easy enough deduction, since there are only a few people he has been espousing philosophy to, though, and he raises his eyebrows. “You and a prince? I suppose I should have guessed it, considering he and Laertes know each other, but—“ He honestly doesn’t know whether to laugh or be slightly impressed. Maybe it’s an odd mixture of both.

[futaille]

Oh that's entirely too many dots for him to have accurately connected at once. Grantaire's eyes widen just a bit. "Oh, that is very much not why I brought that up and I am perfectly content to set that entire discussion aside." A pause. "You were practicing, right? You really shouldn't let me get in the way of that, I can just sit quietly--mostly quietly-- to the side if you wanted to continue."

[untamedantinous]

He is not entirely blind, thank you. “I am not —you may do as you will, of course, I am only surprised.” (If Courfeyrac were here, he would be collapsing of laughter.) As it is, Enjolras shakes his head, hoping to the heavens that he is not turning as red as he thinks he might be.

“And what do you intend on doing? Making dry comments?”

[futaille]

"I will just say I did not know he was a prince at first and move on entirely." He clears his throat. "That said, I can applaud a good hit as well as the next person. I'm not sure fencing is the 'dry comment' sort of activity, although I'm certainly willing to try."