JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME

[nukeoleptic]

THE TEST DRIVE MEME

• Got a character you're thinking of reserving/apping this round? PUT THEM HERE! • Threads here can count as your third person sample! • Comment with your character's name and canon! • This is open to everyone! Also, test drivers can tag other test drivers. :) • Make up your own scenario or have them walk into all the doors or leave it blank for others to do it for you! Reserves are here, and open on December 29th at 12:01AM CST. Application information (including the list of pending apps) is here, and they open on January 5th at 12:01AM CST. OPTIONAL SCENARIO: After your character receives his or her bracelet and the run-down from the faceless maids in the castle, they walk out to find the city again blanketed with snow. Today, the children of the city seem to have taken up caroling instead of snowball fighting. Since Christmas isn't a native holiday, however, they seem to have latched on to any song they can find from the Travelers's worlds, so don't be surpried if they stop your character to belt out some classic songs from the 90s boyband era in an effort of holiday cheer! Make sure to have fun, and as always, feel free to hit the mods or players up with any questions you might have! ♥

Comments

[cynicalcoholic]

[Grantaire turns away at the mention of heavier topics, his jaw tight with apprehension. It's not quite so much that he's dreading what Enjolras will say- no, he expects an eloquent shot of anger from him, the scorn that he's well accustomed to by now- rather, he doesn't quite know if he's ready to speak of this yet. He died under the assumption that it would be recognized and then forgotten alongside everything else in the cold light of death.

Instead of rebuking him, however, Enjolras merely acknowledges what he did, offers his answer as plain as day, where there will be no room for miscommunication. Grantaire wouldn't mind a little miscommunication to be honest, but he recognizes what Enjolras is trying to do and busies himself with hoisting up the small boy, resting the child on his hip.

Little fingers reach up and touch his cheek, and Grantaire smiles at the child- an expression that bears no actual joy- and attempts to nip at the boy's fingertips. It's only belatedly that he realizes that the child is attempting to wipe at the blood that must have spattered onto his cheek when he died, and the smile slowly fades. He lowers the boy back to the ground then, scrubbing his face on a dirtied sleeve.]

Every man has to go sometime. [He doesn't look directly at Enjolras when he says it, instead moving to unbutton his vest, in some vain hopes that the shirt below might be a cleaner front to wear.

It's not, obviously, and he stares down at himself for a moment, before shooing the boy away, his jaw tense as he forces himself to swallow around the lump on his throat. His expression is hidden from his companion then, but his voice sounds jovial as ever.]

I surely did not expect to wind up here, I can tell you that much.

[member]

[ enjolras wants to say no, that's not listening, but he has no power over this man, there is no reason for him to listen. there was no point in his dying beside enjolras and at the same time there was every point- words and feelings they'd not yet told each other, it all came out in that moment. every hateful glance enjolras had apologized for, every time he muttered you're a fool, you're worthless. he took it all back in the short, half smile he was permitted before the rain of bullets cascading upon them. ]

[ at least now enjolras sees some value in him- value he always knew was there, but couldn't praise grantaire until he lived up to it. ]

You've evaded my question. I am left to assume.

[ it's stated very matter-of-factly, not asking again, not waiting for a response. if grantaire doesn't want to speak then there's no reason to make him, enjolras guesses, and so he shrugs, bouncing the little boy up and down on his knee. attempting to rid the heavy area he's created, through the sounds of a child's laughter. ]

[ one easily becomes two and then three- children laughing and enjolras does not, he does not turn to look at grantaire, or do anything to acknowledge his presence. not so much ignoring as he is wondering what he could possibly say that won't result in a battle of words or a fight. he searches, until the girl toying with his hair bends and whispers something in his ear- which makes him crack a smile, briefly, before shooting a look in grantaire's. ]

The young mademoiselle wants braids in your hair next.

[cynicalcoholic]

Assume away.

[The retort has no malice to it though, and Grantaire straightens up, vest buttoned again as the girl whispers to Enjolras. In truth, Grantaire isn't used to seeing a smile on the other man's face, no matter how small, and he lifts an eyebrow at it before chuckling at the words.

He skirts around the back of the bench then, resting a knee on the wood and leaving his other foot on the ground- close to the edge, far enough away from Enjolras to fit a small child or two between them.]

If you can tame it, you can braid it. I wish you luck, Mademoiselle.

[It is a rather unruly mop, but Grantaire stays still for her as she shuffles over to grasp at his hair. He keeps his gaze on her, good natured and pleased with the attempt.

Turning his attention to the blond man just past her, Grantaire tries changing the subject, if nothing else then because he's still not confident in his answers to any of the questions that Enjolras might ask.]

What do you make of this place?

[member]

[ if enjolras was more frequent with his smiles, he'd send one at the sight of the little girl toying with grantaire's hair, letting out tiny huffs of frustration but altogether remaining determined. he doesn't smile, but there is that fond look again, that one that says i know what you did, you know what you did, and we both know it meant more than what you're letting on. ]

[ still, there is silence on his part. he still watches- the girl more than grantaire, as he debates the likelihood that she is, actually, a cherub and not just some young lady from another world altogether. ]

[ he's faced with "heaven" or "alternate universe". those are his options. ]

The maids were surprising. [ is what he manages out, not entirely sure what to say. he's starting to doubt this is heaven ( is heaven meant to be so cold? ), but it's simple enough that nothing else makes sense. maybe the frustrations in logic are just something he'll have to accept now that he's dead. ]

I did not expect much past- [ he pauses, with a looking. -dying, is the end there, but he doesn't want to scare the children. if he had known he'd be conscious after losing his patria, perhaps he'd have been more careful with his life- more selfish to spend time with her, rather than living with this france-shaped hole in his dead heart. ] ... and yet, here we are.

[cynicalcoholic]

[And yet here they are. Grantaire nods- but slightly, so as not to upset the girl's fingers as she tries to find a strand or two of his hair that isn't twined with the rest of it. He doesn't wince when she tugs a little too hard, but his nose wrinkles a little and she murmurs an apology before finally managing to start a good braid.]

And what say you, ange? Do they give everyone funny little bracelets in Heaven? [She laughs at the implication and shakes her head, twisting his hair around until it's a somewhat decent braid. She leaves it there and moves on for another section, and Grantaire dips his head to let her have more access, only barely able to see Enjolras out of the corner of his eyes now.]

If this is Heaven, the good Lord could have at least alleviated this bottle ache. [A pause.] -not that I'm entirely vexed, mind. A beating heart is a beating heart.

[And with that he shrugs, looking back up toward the girl with a little smile as she finishes the second braid and pulls back to admire her handiwork.]

[member]

[ despite everything, a world where enjolras isn't annoyed by grantaire's drinking habits is unfortunately a world that does not exist. enjolras sucks in a hard breath, glad he can't see grantaire to glare at him and spoil the mood- and instead he presses his hands to the sides of the boy in his lap, holding him close so he doesn't tip over. ]

Or He could have greeted us, rather than handing us off to His handmaids. [ there's obvious irritation in his voice- already, heaven seems like an unequal balance of powers, which enjolras will always be against, god or no. there are a thousand different speeches he could give here- on the right of man, even in the face of their creator- but he silences himself for once. ]

[ grantaire would become frustrating and the children would grow confused with their bickering. there's no point. ]

A beating heart? [ he shakes his head, bending to tickle his nose against the boy's neck- half to make him laugh, half because he's freezing. ] Funny, I was under the presumption we were to only get one of those.

[cynicalcoholic]

[Grantaire finds himself biting back a comment about the faceless maids, still not quite sure what to make of them- they seemed more like demons than angels, but he supposes that angels might come in all shapes and sizes. It's a miracle, maybe, if this is truly Heaven. Of all of them, Grantaire was perhaps the least likely to make it here... though considering the general state of affairs around this place, maybe he shouldn't be surprised that he fit the bill after all.

Still, he lifts the girl's fingers to his throat, his eyebrows lifting up in some light amusement.] And what do you think, little thing? Is there a pulse there?

[She looks confused, but ultimately she nods and he feels the beat of his heart skip up against her fingertips. So that's one mystery solved.]

It seems as if the mighty Enjolras was mistaken. [-and he almost ends that with once again, but Grantaire bites his tongue, similarly, for fear of getting into a fight in front of the children who seem to be enjoying their presence.]

[member]

[ there's no need for grantaire to say it- no, enjolras hears it loud and clear and huffs out a breath of annoyance, earning a scowl from the child in his lap. he does not apologize, simply soothes him with light touches on his side- and the boys fingers wrap around enjolras' larger one, and he figures that's as good as he'll get. ]

[ still, he glares at grantaire. something about him implying it is- painful, now, rather than frustrating. does grantaire really see his death as a mistake?, he wonders to think, would he take it back if given the chance?. ]

Tread lightly, Grantaire.

[ it would be fair if he did. enjolras did not ask for anyone to stand beside him in death, he certainly didn't want grantaire ( or anyone else for that matter ) to die that night. it happened. he told them to run- he told them, nearly pleaded them to spare their lives, but it was naturally all for naught. they remained and they died. and enjolras leaded them to their graves. ]

[ he wonders, were grantaire awake for it, would he have fled? at the mention of spare your lives, i only need thirty men, would grantaire have taken off running in a drunken stupor? ]

[ it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. that the answer might be yes. ]

No man should be as arrogant as you when faced with eternal light in the Kingdom of our Lord.

[cynicalcoholic]

[Grantaire pulls back a little at the warning, ducking his eyes to avert Enjolras' angry gaze, his fingers reaching up and tugging the braids from his hair- much to the dismay of the girl before him. He shoos her off regardless, moving to stand as the smile seeps from his face- not quite able to look at him, not entirely sure how to respond.

So he throws an arm up, gesturing to the streets and the city around them both, still facing away from Enjolras, still hiding his expression the look in his eye.]

Do you call this an eternal light, Enjolras? In my opinion, it's freezing out- there's a liquor store there and a bar several blocks back and street urchins playing with our hair. If this is the Kingdom we've all tried to emulate on earth, then I prefer a cold death to either. [Arrogance again. But he finally turns back to look at his former leader, now that the awkwardness and shame has left him in favor of his complaints.]

If I am wrong, then let our Lord strike me where I stand, but so help me, this place is not worth death. Give me a grave to lie in and let me out of here.

[member]

[ the children around them finally feel the seriousness of their discussion- the girl who was invested with the braids nearly tears up from grantaire's rudeness ( or maybe she is crying, enjolras didn't get a good look before she turned to face the other way ), the others scrambling around to go find something else to do, and the boy in enjolras' lap tugging questioningly at his threadbare shirt. ]

[ death? ]

[ enjolras only feels annoyance when he looks at grantaire- he's acting like he does in their meetings, like a child, like a man who can't get what he wants and seeks refuge in making enjolras' life more difficult. he shakes his head, patting the boy on his side, reaching an awkward hand out to touch the girl's shoulder. he's not especially good with emotions or children- but, it seems, right now he's a hell of a lot better than grantaire. ]

Our death was not because of where we might end up- we did not die to greet our Creator. We died, Grantaire, for France and her people- and for whatever reason you have since I know you never believed in our plight. It doesn't matter if this is Heaven, or Hell, or anywhere in between.

[ because they died with reason, because they died for something. they didn't waste away in a gutter, or live out their lives being spat on by the fat ones and their carriages made out of money and the lower class' sweat. they died young, and they died free. ]

Where are we then, Grantaire? Did we not die, and had I just imagined the bullets that pierced me? Is the blood on our shirts any less real because you are unhappy in whatever afterlife we've been granted?

SWITCHES JOURNALS AND TAGS BACK 2 WEEKS LATE

[slurred]

[Grantaire doesn't have an answer for Enjolras' questions, and it annoys him more than it should- his teeth grit together and he tries to ignore how the children seem to take solace in him. In Enjolras, who was too busy plotting out their deaths to give Marius a moment to dream about love. He had mourned Gavroche, as the rest of them, but when had he ever given children any mind?

It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, perhaps more than it should because Enjolras is getting the way he gets again, and Grantaire doesn't know if it's worth arguing about, or if he should simply submit and let himself be overruled again.]

I said this was not Heaven. Knowing what it isn't doesn't imply that I know what it is, so I cannot tell you.

[There's a pause, and his lips press together. He shouldn't let Enjolras rile him up like this. It's just like back home- but of course, now they're both dead and neither of them know exactly what that means.

There are more pressing matters at hand anyway.]

Come- I said I spied a place that will give us a few bottles earlier. Let us forget our questions in wine and answer them when the Lord finds us in this... wherever He has left us.