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2ème drapeau
We are all unwell.
[ And from the looks of it, Enjolras is just as bad as everyone else--his face is unusually pale, especially against his red jacket, and his hair is damp with cold sweat. His hands are shaking as he stirs something, and the background is a very old, 18th century wine shop. Most of it had been destroyed, though Enjolras had tried his best to repair it himself before growing too ill to lift heavy things. ]
Cafe Musain has been gifted to me--the only sense of familiarity is a rather unpleasant memory. [ The bullet holes are there. Where he was practically pinned to the wall, Grantaire at his feet. He continues, gaze as stern as he can allow for how sick he looks. ]
The fortunate part of this has been that there has been wine left--those in casks which were saved to use as flame. However, given our situation, one of the casks is best left to keep out bodies full of warm and perhaps fight off the sickness that is passing.
[ He moves the camera to reveal a large vat of the wine, though there are other things in it--spices, orange and lemon peels. He'd mulled spiced wine. It's not perfect, but it's what he can do--he is no chef, he is a leader. ]
Perhaps it is not your futuristic medicine, but nonetheless. If you are willing to brave the snow, arrive at Cafe Musain--the tall, crooked building--and I shall pour you a cup. If you are unable to, let me know. Perhaps I can provide delivery.
[ And from the looks of it, Enjolras is just as bad as everyone else--his face is unusually pale, especially against his red jacket, and his hair is damp with cold sweat. His hands are shaking as he stirs something, and the background is a very old, 18th century wine shop. Most of it had been destroyed, though Enjolras had tried his best to repair it himself before growing too ill to lift heavy things. ]
Cafe Musain has been gifted to me--the only sense of familiarity is a rather unpleasant memory. [ The bullet holes are there. Where he was practically pinned to the wall, Grantaire at his feet. He continues, gaze as stern as he can allow for how sick he looks. ]
The fortunate part of this has been that there has been wine left--those in casks which were saved to use as flame. However, given our situation, one of the casks is best left to keep out bodies full of warm and perhaps fight off the sickness that is passing.
[ He moves the camera to reveal a large vat of the wine, though there are other things in it--spices, orange and lemon peels. He'd mulled spiced wine. It's not perfect, but it's what he can do--he is no chef, he is a leader. ]
Perhaps it is not your futuristic medicine, but nonetheless. If you are willing to brave the snow, arrive at Cafe Musain--the tall, crooked building--and I shall pour you a cup. If you are unable to, let me know. Perhaps I can provide delivery.