jamesmcginty | Well, Mervin.

Watercolor class is pretty interesting. I don't think I'm particularly skilled, but I've produced a few pictures. I enclosed something for you. I fear there are no apples to paint. Only a hideous vase, and some rather unconvincing wax pears and rubber grapes. May it ferment gently in the mail and arrive as a slightly better vintage.

Darius is ... Darius. I haven't seen much of him, but what I have doesn't say he's improved much. We had a holiday, so he probably was off doing his thing somewhere.

R, it turns out, is pretty charming. I think he's been around here all his life, and knows the area like the back of his hand. His grades wouldn't impress anyone, but - well - some people don't do well in schools to start with. I think he's taken it to heart though.

You told me that it was bad to make yourself into what people say you are, or to say you're something you don't want to be. That positive thinking thing that's plastered all over Lorena Station.

I'm thinking positively. I haven't seen him in several days.

He's not the kind of man who just blends in, you know? Even when he's hungover and quiet or -

Yes, I'll be careful.

Love,
James

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

For once, R manages to bite back the statement on the tip of his tongue, the one that points out that drinking is very much him. Instead, he nods. Sure, he can deal with being sober around a couple people in question. It's not the biggest deal in the world, and he's not being asked to quit or anything.

"I can downplay it a lot, sure." he agrees. "Just...rough night." I stabbed someone, he doesn't add but thinks it. "And good. Nothing to be sorry for, just don't want you to be sick or anything. Not exactly fun."

Eventually, he's emerging from a shower, feeling a lot better, and forgetting, once he's dressed, to put his gloves back on right away. His hands reveal the still healing brand, but they also have some minor scratches and cuts from practicing with various weapons. It'll get easier, they keep telling him. R just hopes that's soon.

"It's kind of -" James makes a face. "I'm pretty sure 'why Mervin won't go home' isn't normal conversation."

He does look a lot happier to see R coming out of the shower though. The dorm's got a ridiculously huge hot water tank, and with the holiday recently, the student population is pretty low right now.

James slides a bowl over and waves R to join him. "I just made something fast, but - hopefully it's good. Join me on the couch? It's nearer the furnace. No point in having damp hair giving you a cold."

It's a very cozy corner. James had a bookshelf, and a quilt covered sofa, and a low table in the main area. He offered to move it for Anshar's dance stretches, and Anshar admitted that he loved the spot too.

"Ahh okay. One of THOSE situations." R makes a face. "Keep it away from Mervin." he repeats, sounding...like he actually means it. Then again, people's comfort levels ARE important to him. "For the record if that was me, I'd try to stop. I don't want to be the reason people are afraid of coming home or...anything. We've got this kid...he's probably about eight or so, well, my friend Bahorel technically. His parents are...it's a bad situation so they try keeping an eye on him and I corrupt him. I know enough to know I don't want to turn into those parents, you know?"

What might James think if he knew what kind of semi monster, even though the cause is a good one, better than he'd think, that Grantaire's become? He's hoping that never shows up as a topic of conversation. Of course, as he's picking up the bowl, his hand, and the branded left ring finger come into view without him thinking about it. He's so used to being among his Brothers now that it hasn't occurred yet.

Oops.

"Well, Mervin's a pirate, and he still helped me out as -" James startles and nearly drops his spoon. "R! What - let me get the first aid kit. Have you cleaned it?"

At least he's pretty confident about burns, what with his cousin showing up over the years with yavanite glow burns (eerily glowing, yes, but totally like a normal one) or simple burns from hot engine parts.

And there was the time Mervin showed up, tight jawed and quiet with a crescent moon from the handle of a hot pan on his arm and didn't talk about it.

"Piracy, sounds pretty..." R starts, then winces as James reacts to that, holding his hand up quickly. "It's fine I promise. Healing." he quickly adds. "Just a controlled burn that's healing up pretty nicely." Well nicely is up for debate but it's been doing the healthy thing of crusting up and all of that. "I promise it's not bad. ...Hey, are you okay?"

James blinks rapidly and kind of hesitates, holding the edge of the table before slowly relaxing. "If - you're sure? I've got a burn cream that did pretty good for Mervin."

He makes a face like he's not sure that'd go over well. "I mean, hot engine bits. And he got . . . ." He trails off again.

"He had a bad one when we were younger too. So it's - I've checked burns out before?" James fumbles a bit with his spoon and tries to not stare at R's hand.

"It might help a little." R allows. "I'm supposed to keep most of it but the skin around's been pretty awful." He considers "And I can always rub it with some sandy soap later, to keep it gritty. Long story, but it's a Sign. I made it. Uh at my job that is. It's Symbolic."

Too much? Probably. Oops.

James looks decidedly dubious about the idea of a Symbolic burn, but he's getting up to dig out some of his options. "That might help numb things a bit, and cut down on the skin around it being so irritated. You can keep them? I can always buy some more, and they're almost empty."

His hands are not exactly steady as he retakes his seat but he's looking straight at R. "It's - something you made and wanted. Is it not for outsiders to know about? Because I can keep quiet until you say otherwise."

HAD he wanted it? At the moment, Grantaire wasn't sure. Yes, he believed in what Bellec, and the other apprentice who was paired with him, Arno, had told them about being an assassin, working in the dark to serve the light, everything being permitted because nothing was ultimately true. They still didn't feel like buzzwords, and he'd taken the brand after his first blooding and solo job, but he'd been in a bit of a numb state since then.

He'd known his target and probably ought to have mentioned that fact even if it wasn't well. She'd been one of the sellers at the market, had pushed her peaches and oranges at him every time he'd happened by, and had hinted at having bread to sell. As it turned out, her bread and dealings in it, had been the problem. She'd hurt others, children, like Gavroche from the streets and the sisters he'd mentioned were still at home, by her actions, driving up prices for cheaper and cheaper, and worse quality 'food' that was half mixed with sawdust, and she'd done her own share of killing. But...He'd known her.

The thought stuck with Grantaire today, even as he looked at the brand again, and told himself that it was for the greater good. With that came sacrifices, he supposed, as he contemplated the question, and then nodded, taking care to make it firm enough.

"I didn't make it, but I...yes, I wanted it. And I'd prefer we keep it on the downlow, for now, yes. Long story, but you know how secret societies of anarchist painters go."

James smiles at him. "Fair enough. We could trade too, if that'd help it not feel so - uh - your drawers in the wind, so to speak. I ... kind of hate listening to people saying my cousin's awful and wanting me to change what he does?"

He fiddles with a bit of turnip and his spoon. "Kind of like - this is a no for you, and that's a no for me. Because Mervin trusts me, and I know most of what he puts up with, but -"

He's not sure R would get it. Well, R definitely seemed to get it about the drinking. With barely any information. "I wonder if I could offer - some winter clothes or mitts for the kid. It's rough. Mervin was lucky enough to get in off the streets in winter. Or ... unlucky. I think that was part of his problem. Having to say sorry enough to get let back in."

Well, Mervin.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject