The Corinth Wine-Shop
A normal looking wine-shop, with tables and chairs scattered about over the corner of the room farthest from the door. Along the wall to your left as you enter is a large counter/bar, behind which sits the manager and barkeeper. On the other side of the counter, out from the corner a little bit, is a spiral staircase leading up and down.
Enjolras strides in, a few official-looking documents under his arm. He sits down at one of the tables near the door and starts to pore over one.
Grantaire is slouched at a table quite nearby, though he's being quiet. "'lo," he murmurs, mildly.
Enjolras looks up from his reading for a moment. "Bonjour," he says, as if he doesn't know the man at all, and goes back to his reading.
Enjolras orders himself a glass of water and drinks it in between paragraphs.
Grantaire, of course, can't pass up an opportunity to be a pain. "And how are /you/ this fine day?" much too cheerfully.
Enjolras looks up again, less than amused to be interrupted. "I am well. And you?"
Grantaire brightens. His hero is being polite. Grouchy, but polite. He gestures vaguely. "Not bad, not bad at all. Imagine meeting you here."
Enjolras glances pointedly back at his reading matter. "The food is not so terrible as some other places."
"This is true," agrees Grantaire genially, and can't help but add: "Fancy your noticing."
Enjolras, who was just picking up another paper, slams it onto the table with a rattle. "Pardon me for needing to eat and do my work at the same time. Some of us have classes to consider."
Grantaire winces faintly, and takes refuge in outright flippancy. "We all have them to consider, mon ami. Some of us merely don't."
Enjolras smiles just a little at that, and not pleasantly. "That explains a great deal about you." He raises his reading matter again, making a barricade between himself and Grantaire.
Grantaire complains for the severalth time, "You have no sense of humor."
Enjolras doesn't move his papers. "And you have no sense of responsibility. One of them is more important than the other."
Grantaire mutters, settling back disgruntledly in his seat, "Matter of opinion."
Enjolras straightens his papers. "For once, we agree."
Fish, an ordinary looking old man, enters from the street.
Grantaire blows out his breath, says a rude word very quietly, and looks out the window.
Enjolras ignores Grantaire, and says something to the author of the paper he's reading, though said person isn't present.
Fish steps in and unobtrusively takes a seat.
Enjolras glances up from his paper, then goes back to glaring at it. He makes a few notes on it.
Enjolras says rather loudly, "These conclusions are nothing but the fallacies of a fevered mind." He crumples up a page of his reading and throws it in aggravation.
Grantaire says equably, "See, I knew it." He peers at Fish.
Enjolras throws the rest of his papers onto the table. "Obviously, you are so inconsiderate that I shall never accomplish anything while you sit there." He beckons Chowder over to take his order. While he waits for her, he asks in an aggravated tone of voice, "What, exactly, did you know?"
Fish is just an old fellow, come in to rest his bones and for a drink, maybe, if he sees the help have a moment of free time.
Grantaire explains, "Fallacies."
Fish smiles a little, with a thanks to the help, he brings up the drink to his mouth with a hand, quaking with age, and sips gently.
Enjolras orders his lunch before asking guardedly, "What do you know of fallacies, winecask?"
Grantaire retorts, "Enough to know that almost everything is one. Particularly if you're supposed to be studying it."
Enjolras actually considers this before responding. "Part of the reason I am studying law is so that I have the capability to perfect it. If the entire body is false, though, then the exercise is meaningless. Some ideals have merit, but not normally the ones they give us to examine."
Grantaire gives a little half-snicker. "Naturally not."
Enjolras begins to look exasperated. Here he is, trying to have a decent conversation with this man for once, and the fool is laughing. "Why do you say that, then?
Grantaire peers back over his shoulder with a crooked grin. "God forbid they should encourage you to, say, pursue justice instead of spitting bck the proper answers."
Enjolras raises his eyebrows, encouraged. "I rarely need outside motivation to pursue justice, thank you. And you are quite correct; my professors are overly fond of the status quo."
Grantaire, being a rational adult, refrains from rejoicing visibly to be told he's correct. He merely shrugs and says, "Stands to reason. They all are."
Enjolras frowns. "It upsets me that even people who claim to be interested in the rights of men are willing to persist under the old system while it decays around them. Hypocrisy is the worst sin."
Grantaire is silent, for once in his life. He nods a bit.
Fish sips and listens a little, though the talk of change is best left to the young...
Enjolras takes advantage of the silence, which doesn't occur all that often in present company. "They want us to think that individuals are important, and yet they support the monarchy. The only individual in the monarchy is the King. His rights are not at risk in our fair country. If he was only one of the citizens of the Republic, he would be our equal there. He would not lose his rights. We would all be elevated and gain his."
Grantaire murmurs, "Quite."
Enjolras realizes who he's haranguing, and that he still has homework to do. He abruptly stops talking and goes back to his reading.
Grantaire shrugs faintly, and goes back to gazing out the window.