jamesmcginty (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jamesmcginty) wrote2016-05-11 08:16 pm
jamesmcginty) wrote2016-05-11 08:16 pm
Entry tags:
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
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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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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."
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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."
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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."