[Open Post] ..Tuesday afternoon..

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot feels that things have been a strange mix of tumult and routine. This is probably because they have. But today, so far, is routine in all respects. His day has proceeded apace through his usual steps -- drills, tending to Rivelin, coffee, lunch with Susan -- and the afternoon is now stretching out before him in a very satisfying way. He feels good, settled.

And so it is that he's in the café, reading (or mostly reading), with more coffee at hand. Given that he seems to be splitting time equally between having his eyes on his book and gazing out the window, he will not be bothered if anyone comes to chat.

Comments

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I rather think," quiet but audible, "you should not drink that."

[futaille]

He doesn't miss a beat. "Ah, if only I could hear a well meaning voice of wisdom from my spot all the way up on this mountain!" He promptly downs the bottle.

[lanselos_du_lac]

At this he does laugh, in spite of the tragedy, shaking his head at Grantaire.

[futaille]

He drops the 'bottle' and clutches his hands to his chest. "Oh! No! Betrayal!" He starts to stagger around the tabletops with all the enthusiasm of someone who is very well acquainted with staggering while walking. "I trusted too readily! What will become of me?!"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot has some opinions on that -- death, disfigurement, some curse that may bind him to the mountain or turn him into a beast. It does seem a tragedy, a cruel reward for helping someone in good faith, unaware of other forces at work. Anything is possible. He gives Grantaire Baguette a sympathetic look and waits to see what his fate might be,

[futaille]

"My life a waste, my fortune simply to die alone on this mountaintop!" He then promptly just cribs the reported last words of Louis XVI. "I die innocent!" And he drops rather convincingly to the stage, causing some of the tables to wobble most alarmingly, although they manage to remain upright as he sprawls across them.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot can't help but laugh, though of course the tale is a tragic one. He rises and applauds.

[futaille]

He promptly climbs to his feet and takes a bow. "Thank you, thank you." He then promptly hops off the stage. "Now mind you, as plays go, I would hardly class that among the finest, but it's at least a general idea of how it works."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Very... illustrative." He gives Grantaire a grin and steps forward, offering his hand in assistance down from the stage rather gallantly.

[futaille]

Taking Lancelot's hand to accept the assistance as he dismounts, he grins. "Thank you very much. I hope I did some small part in letting you envision theater."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Aye, so thou hast. All my questions answered." He keeps Grantaire's hand, though that feels bold. "I know not how I may thank thee."

[futaille]

"Ah, your applause was surely thanks enough for my meager play," he says with a grin. "Although perhaps a kiss may not come amiss should you feel the applause somehow inadequate."

[lanselos_du_lac]

With this little bit of approval, or permission, Lancelot draws him into a kiss.

[futaille]

And Grantaire quite happily returns the kiss, not in any particular hurry to end it.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He lets it go on a little longer than he maybe should, and when he draws back he's flushed, grinning. "I hope that makes my gratitude clear."

[futaille]

He grins back, coming very close to laughing. "Oh, if this is the reward for putting on an absolutely terrible play, I will clearly have to originate more of them."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"It takes very little, I see, to inspire see."

[futaille]

"Or I see greatness where others see little."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Hm, I ought to have expected an argument."

[futaille]

"That's me," he says with a grin and an ironic half bow, "general contrarian and master of the art of quibbling."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Thou'rt ridiculous," laughing.

[futaille]

"Well of course I am. Most people are, I am just happy to revel in it."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I do not object," he still has Grantaire's hand.

[futaille]

"I would certainly hope not." He lifts their hands and presses a playful kiss to the back of Lancelot's.

[lanselos_du_lac]

This produces a brighter smile and a flush, surprised and pleased, and additionally stymies any comeback he might have had.