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Post by Grantaire on May 7, 2008 22:58:05 GMT -5
The drunkard sneered back at the man and stumbled in behind Enjolras, having a look around, and then slipping around his Fearless Leader to get away from the butler. It was certainly a change from his dingy, horrible one-room place.
"Done well for y'self..."
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Post by Enjolras on May 7, 2008 23:00:39 GMT -5
"Great-uncle once-removed. Died without heirs."
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Post by Grantaire on May 7, 2008 23:02:00 GMT -5
"Well. Lucky, then."
He continued to stare around, bleary eyed, dizzy, looking a bit worn and seeming uncomfortable in the "posh" surroundings.
"So..the bath?"
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Post by Enjolras on May 7, 2008 23:06:11 GMT -5
"Up the stairs, first door on the left is the guest bedroom and there's a bathroom in there."
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Post by Grantaire on May 7, 2008 23:07:36 GMT -5
"Up the stairs? You can't be serious..."
He muttered and moved forward, grabbing hold of the rail and hauling himself up step by step.
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Post by Enjolras on May 7, 2008 23:09:19 GMT -5
"Oh, suck it up." *He muttered, going up the stairs, past Grantaire, to the right.*
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Post by Grantaire on May 7, 2008 23:13:44 GMT -5
He cursed the other man under his breath, and huffed, pulling himself up the stairs until he reached the top landing. A muddled idea of something on the left guided him to the offered guest room. He managed to find the bath and was nearly able to get his shirt off before it twisted and tangled around his back and one arm, whereupon he gave up and lay down on the floor next to the tub, snoring loudly within moments.
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Post by Enjolras on May 7, 2008 23:15:11 GMT -5
*Enjolras noted that the water hadn't stared and poked his head in. It didn't tak emuch effort to move the unconscious man onto the guest bed and make sure his shirt wasn't about to strangle him. He'd deal with Grantaire in the morning.*
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Post by Grantaire on May 8, 2008 14:44:39 GMT -5
Grantaire awoke sometime midmorning the following day. His head was splitting and he grumbled and flung an arm out behind himself to reach a bottle, only to find open air instead of the rough floorboards of his home. He sat up and cursed, clutching his skull and looking around, wondering if some old dandy had taken him home--but then he was still mostly dressed (his shirt seemed to be half off), and if he'd passed out before any...transaction had taken place he was usually tossed out in the street.
This told him two things. Whomever had brought him here probably wasn't married. And they hadn't begrudged him a bed for the night though nothing seemed to have been exchanged.
After a few moments of rather idle contemplation he got up and stretched, tugging his shirt off the rest of the way. He spotted the little bathroom and supposed his host wouldn't mind if he made use of it, so in he went, and drew the water.
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Post by Enjolras on May 8, 2008 14:52:33 GMT -5
*Enjolras had woken much earlier, not having consumed as much alcohol, and was taking coffee (black) in the library with his newspaper, as every morning, before he heard the water start running. At least Grantaire was taking a bath of his own accord. He continued to read his paper, sipping the coffee. He doubted Grantaire remembered anything that had happened last night.*
*He had one of the footmen place a spare set of clothes outside the door. They'd be big (they were Enjolras's) but he doubted that Grantaire would want to put whatever he'd had last night on.*
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Post by Grantaire on May 8, 2008 15:02:50 GMT -5
The steaming bathwater felt good and he let it run while he scrubbed himself--he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a bath--and his headache subsided to a dull throb that he could ignore for a while. His spirits lifted with the grime and he didn't even notice when he started humming some sailor's tune, occasionally belting out snatches of refrain in a clumsy and rough but rich baritone.
Scrubbed red and hair washed, he got out of the bath and found a pair of plush towels, drying off and examining his face in the mirror. There was a straight razor on the ledge of the sink, either left by the master of the house or some other guest but he made use of it, and his face was left clean, revealing the angularity of the sharp jaw that usually hid under a nest of stubble.
The clothes were found and put on, and they were a bit big, but beggers couldn't be choosers. He rolled up the sleeves over his ropey forearms and finally ventured out of the room and down the stairs, looking around for a servant, or...anyone.
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Post by Enjolras on May 8, 2008 15:06:25 GMT -5
*Enjolras chuckled when he heard Grantaire singing. The last time he'd heard that voice... well, it had been when they were all still optimistic idealists sitting around and planning a revolution.*
*When Grantaire passed the library door, Enjolras cleared his throat conspicuously.*
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Post by Grantaire on May 8, 2008 15:10:58 GMT -5
Halfway past the entryway, he stopped and poked his head in.
"Hel--Oh."
He blinked a couple of times and did vaguely remember meeting his old compatriot in some pub the night before. That explained his comfortable surroundings upon waking.
Grantaire straightened and stepped into the library, checking his borrowed clothes and attempting to look presentable. Wits fled.
"Thanks."
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Post by Enjolras on May 8, 2008 15:13:16 GMT -5
*Enjolras nodded, only looking up from his paper for a few seconds as he met Grantaire's eye.*
"Coffee?"
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Post by Grantaire on May 8, 2008 15:15:39 GMT -5
"Never touch the stuff."
He muttered and stood where he was, uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his head.
"Ah...anything good in the paper?" He cringed a bit at his lack of social skills, remembering why he'd started drinking in the first place.
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