“There are accepted insurrections that are called revolutions; there are rejected revolutions that are called uprisings.”
“An insurrection is an enthusiasm. Enthusiasm may work itself into anger
- hence the resort to arms. But every insurrection that takes aim at a
government or a régime aims still higher. Thus, for instance, let us repeat
that what the leaders of the insurrection of 1832, and particularly the young
enthusiasts of the Rue de la Chanvrerie, fought against, was not exactly
Louis-Philippe. Frankly, most of them honored the qualities of this king,
midway between monarchy and revolution; none hated him. But they were attacking
the younger branch of divine right in Louis-Philippe as they attacked the elder
branch in Charles X; and what they desired to stamp out in overthrowing royalty
in France, as we have explained, was the usurpation of man over man, and of the
privilege over right, in the whole world.” Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
Happy(?) Barricade Day to all of you! I hope you will hear the people sing.
Side note: I am quite sure that it was not my brain that came up with the barricade cookies. But I am not able to find the source. So if someone knows the genius creating them first - please let me know so I can credit this person!
phone, that ended up on the floor beside him, buzzes politely. He glances down
at it. It’s Grantaire… He hesitates. If he opens the message Grantaire will see
he’s seen it. Enjolras keeps those time stamps on because he’s so terrible at
responding, then at least his friends can see if she’s even been online or that
he has seen it, he’s just gotten
caught up in another moment and forgotten to reply. But that doesn’t work with
Grantaire. Slowly, his head still leaning on his knees, Enjolras extends an arm
and swipes to open the message.
R: howd it go? X
With a hand
hovering over the screen Enjolras tries to decide what to reply. Something that
isn’t a lie and that won’t make Grantaire worry. He can’t deal with a worried
Grantaire right now. And Grantaire shouldn’t have to deal with him right now.
Enj: Not as good as I’d hoped. But it’ll be fine.
good. Nice and neutral.
frowns a little. That doesn’t seem like a completely coherent response, not
even for Grantaire. But at least it worked, no more messages. He wraps his arms
around his knees again. About five minutes later, if he’s any judge, there’s
another buzz. Grantaire again.
R: like. if
that didnt mean: come over to cheer me up you should have said
sits up. Dammit.
Enj: It didn’t.
R: Ange. fine is: it went great and ill change the world or: the bastards
didn’t listen and ill kick their ass. nothing in between
groans and puts his head back down.
R: im coming over
the door opens it sounds an awful lot like multiple people coming in. Enjolras
wants to get up, but…he doesn’t. He doesn’t even lift his head when he hears
Grantaire’s shuffled footsteps halt in the doorway.
“R, I don’t
need cheering up,” he mutters despondently. “It’s just-”
not here to cheer you up,” Grantaire says and Enjolras glances up to see him
cross the room and slide to the floor by his side. “Cause I’m guessing this isn’t
a ‘I didn’t do a good job’ moment?”
an angry noise. He did a great job.
He talked his heart out and the council even listened, they just don’t care
enough to actually do something.
Grantaire nods. “So it’s a faith in humanity kind of thing, which I am not great at, so I have come here for
this-” He wraps an arm around Enjolras and pulls him closer until Enjolras is
leaning against him. “-and I brought Feuilly for the other thing.”
here,” Feuilly’s voice drifts comes from the living room and a moment later he appears
with a large glass of water. He smiles down at Enjolras. “Hi.”
feel like smiling yet, but with his head leaning against Grantaire’s shoulder
and Feuilly’s eyes crinkling at him it’s beginning to feel like a better option
already. “Hi,” he says.
puts the glass down in front of him and sits down cross legged on the floor.
Enjolras let’s go of his knees in favour of sinking deeper into Grantaire’s
chest and looks at Feuilly.
listened but they don’t want to do anything,” he says.
blinks. How does Feuilly know these things.
nods understandingly. “You know,” he says. “People don’t really understand
ideas and ideals if they don’t feel them.”
“How can they not feel them?” Enjolras
bursts out, but Grantaire has started to lean his cheek against the top of his
head and Enjolras decides that moving is not something he wants to do right
know,” Feuilly says feelingly. “Some people don’t. Not immediately anyway.” His
eyes brighten slightly. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t teach them. It just
doesn’t always work with words.”
grumbles softly. He shouldn’t have to explain this shit in the first place. Words
or no words.
Feuilly says, leaning forward and there’s a crackle of energy in the air that
Enjolras has come to associate specifically with Feuilly telling stories. Stories
that can go on for hours if no one stops him. And no one ever wants to stop
ever told you-” Feuilly says solemnly, “-about the rice pudding parties in the
morning light and fresh croissants, sharing a newspaper, secondhand book stalls, bright smiles and wide-eyed admiration,
secret corners of the city, a light breeze through open windows, earnest compliments, calling out flaws in arguments, putting other people first, conversations that forget to end, running fingers through hair, quiet snoring, the tightest hugs known to man. (requested by @aflamethatneverdies@jordsie@eirenical & anons)
Well well well, look what the church sent us. A pet goldfish to replace the last one. Haha, this year's model has no boobs and her voice is annoying. Let's make her life hell because we have issues and we don't have an xbox. / Oh look, our target. Let's suck her blood until we become Adam because we have to fulfill an obligation.
Um, I guess I'll try to survive the best I can, given the circumstances...
Oh crap. What did I do to deserve this, I never wanted this much responsibility. Fk now I gotta mood Tree? Hold the fk up, now the Vibora want to start a war? TF I ever do to them?? Wait, who tf is Kino?? I can't control my powers, help, what I do? How do I hit pause??
Wherein lunch is had, dude bros are fought and tension is relieved. At least kind of.
Summary: Combeferre owns a small but lovely bookshop in Saint-Georges, spends most of his time with his weird but lovable employee, his weird but lovable roommate or the rest of his weird but lovable friends. Courfeyrac is a world-famous actor who just happens to stumble into Combeferre’s up until that point quite uneventful life.
Bossuet and Courfeyrac, a little friendly gossip?:D
The Lounge was rather large for a salon. The mothership’s elite usually liked smaller, more intimate places to discuss and drink, but Courfeyrac supposed this was a salon for the big occasions, or perhaps only for those who quickly felt strangled among tight crowds. He spotted Bossuet immediately, already half laid down sensually on a very long sofa, dressed like a rich heir who played too much to be able to keep buying new suits, and gracefully moved between chatting people to join him. A few ladies were already looking at Bossuet, who grinned charmingly at them all, a clear invitation - but Courfeyrac sat next to him first, and was greeted with a much more honest smile.
“We haven’t seen each other in more than a week,” he signed immediately with large movements. “And I heard - from Grantaire of all people! - that you’ve got a new roommate.”
Courfeyrac had a brief thought for Marius, who kept looking lost at random moments of the day, suddenly stopping what he’d been doing to stare at the emptiness, and then he shrugged. “You know the place he lived before was abominable.” he signed.
“Yes,” said Bossuet, leaning toward him, speaking out loud as well as moving his fingers. “I also know he was adamant never to move from here until he had the means. And now he’s sleeping with you.”