If a writer loves what they do, it’s in the words. A singer, it’s in their voice.
Who: Grantaire and Lara Croft What: Lara's filling in behind the bar When: 5/21 Where: A bar Status: complete Rating: PG-13
It had been a few months since the Brit had come into a pub. Lara’s research and expedition preparation had driven her out of the bartending profession entirely, but they’d been desperate, and she’d been free, and willing to help out for a few hours in exchange for a really nice bottle of scotch.
She wore a tight tanktop, hoping that coverup and the dim lightning would disguise the worse of the scars on her shoulders, and spun a bottle around before pouring it. “Here you go, love.”
Grantaire was, well, he always did enjoy a good drink. He had his drinks at the apartment, of course. But sometimes it was just good to get out. Cynic or not, he was good at making people laugh. Get him started on a topic and he just kept going. He’d been locked in his room painting all day, which was why he had decided to go out that night.
“Thanks.”
Paint covered fingers gripped the glass as he took a drink, watching the people in the bar. While he rarely actually did any sketches when in a bar, he had his sketchbook with him. Just in case inspiration struck. So far though, nothing. Not surprising.
Lara's eyes fell to the sketchbook. Hers were always filled with archaeological wonders, but she was much better at sketching something she'd seen than trying to create out of whole cloth. She smiled at him, her tone friendly. "What sort of things do you draw, if you don't mind my asking?"
Bartender 101, always try to draw someone in by approaching their most obvious comfort zone or interest.
Gaze flickering between his bartender and sketchbook, Grantaire shrugged as he put the glass back on the bar in front of him.
“Oh, you know, whatever strikes me in the moment.”
Admittedly there were a fair amount of sketches of Enjolras that his roommate would never under any circumstance get to see. They were some of Courf and really anyone he came across who struck him.
"I do a bit of sketching but that's part of my day job." There were dozens of sketches in her study of what she could recall from her dreams of Yamatai that she never let her fiance see. She picked up a discarded glass from another patron to give her something to clean while she chatted.
"I'm Lara."
Nodding, Grantaire took another sip.
“Always fun if you enjoy it. What do you do during the day?” If she was forced to and didn’t enjoy it, well, that was something else entirely. Not that Grantaire ever planned to actually find a job that required him to sketch on someone else’s terms. Though, that was just him in general. Actual jobs with set hours and requirements weren’t his style. Odd jobs here and there? That fit him better.
“Grantaire.”
"I study very old things. Ancient ruins and artifacts." The way Lara's voice caressed the words 'ruins' and 'artifacts' was similar to how most people referred to their significant others. "One of the ways I catalogue what I find is by drawing them. I don't always have my camera expert around so it's a good skill to brush up on. But there's a big difference between replicating a piece of pottery and drawing something out of whole cloth, I think."
Well, that was interesting. And she clearly really enjoyed her work, the way she spoke about the ruins and artifacts spoke to that loud and clear. While Grantaire himself didn’t put much stock into caring or believing in things, he could always pick out passion and belief in others.
“Interesting. But yeah, definitely a difference between replicating and creating.” Which was said with a shrug. Really, to each their own and hey, it helped her with her job and she got to see the art regardless. No problem there.
Lara nodded. "Nothing beats seeing it in person, of course. There were these beautiful ruins down in Costa Rica..." Get her started and she's liable to never shut up. She put her now clean glass away and then gestured to his drink, as if asking if he wanted it topped off. "I'm probably boring you. Your name is French?"
Nodding in response to the unspoken question, Grantaire shrugged.
“Technically it’s my mother’s maiden name but I prefer going by it.” And that was all there was to it. He was still frustrated by the run in he’d had with his father prior to Mother’s Day, but that was in the past and all he could do was deal with it.
“And hey, nothing beats the real thing in basically anything.”
"Fair enough." Lara knew better than to get into surnames. Surnames had weight. Expectation and assumption. I'm not that kind of Croft she'd lamented in her dreams. Except she had proven she was.
"Is there a particular artist you like best?"
And like a Croft, she was curious.
If only Grantaire knew the truth. But he had yet to experience these ‘dreams’ people spoke of. He just refused to be tied to his father and that included his given name. No, let him go by his mother’s maiden name, she at least had given a damn about him and his sister before she died. That thought alone caused him to take a drink to chase it away. Not much he could do, it was the past.
“Oh you know, depends on the day and what my mood is. If there is passion in the work, I’m going to like it.” That was how he judged everything, really. Passion was intoxicating and could make or break a piece.
There was something heavy in Grantaire's actions, but Lara couldn't pry, not without him volunteering enough information for her to give him an opening. She tilted her head and thought about that while serving a woman at the end of the bar. She leaned her elbows on it once she'd returned. "People are most beautiful when they talk about their passions and you can see it in their eyes, I've been told."
For all of his joking and mocking and drinking, Grantaire never actually delved into his issues. They were there, but he would prefer to joke and be the jester. He couldn’t be taken seriously as it were. Though the amount of people he had come across from Valarnet who he could talk to about art was pretty interesting. There were others as well, of course, different people and conversations, but it seemed more often than not, he got to talk about art and passion.
“You can, as well as their mannerisms. If a writer loves what they do, it’s in the words. A singer, it’s in their voice, a painter in their brush stroke.”
“A filmmaker in how they craft their film,” Lara said, smiling. She couldn’t help but think of Sam, who’s passion for cameras and editing often left Lara in the dust. “You’re certainly right about that. When someone is doing the thing they love, it’s obvious in how they approach it. I don’t think anyone ever notices it in themselves.”
“I will drink to that.” Because well, okay so Grantaire didn’t need an excuse to drink to something, he just would drink regardless. But saying he was drinking to the fact that people don’t see the passion within themselves seemed a good enough excuse given the conversation.
“Shame people let things like money and what not get in the way of what they’re passionate about.”
Lara poured herself some water into a shot class. “Well then, lets drink, yes?” No comment on money. Between her and Sam they had more money than God, and while it was useful she had been very determined to prove she could go without it. It had made her a bit of a cheapskate, but at least she’d gotten a surviving on ramen and Jaffa Cakes experience in college.
“Here here!”
Raising his glass, the artist took a drink before putting it back down. College hadn’t panned out for Grantaire, but that was more his father’s doing than anything. Disowned and all that, tended to make college difficult. But given he’d never been good at putting effort into the classes he didn’t like, it wasn’t that much of a loss to him. The same went with money and jobs. He could get the money he needed when he needed it, but otherwise he didn’t subject himself to a regular job with regular hours.
Uni. If it hadn't been for Sam Lara would have never once looked up from her books the entire time she'd been there. But no, Sam dragged her out into the world, and Lara had kept Sam grounded enough to make it. Sometimes an opposite was exactly what you needed. "To passion." She knocked her water back.
Grantaire knew that Enjolras would prefer he went back or found something more ‘stable’, whatever that meant. But it wasn’t who Grantaire was and while he might basically do whatever his roommate asked (after much mocking and giving him a hard time), going back to college was definitely not on that list. Goodness knew he and Enjolras were opposites, though. Ideals and cynicism, the cynic pulled into the sun god’s orbit just by existing.
Looking around the bar, Grantaire smirked in amusement.
“That bloke in the corner will end up with a drink thrown in his face in five minutes.”
“If he doesn’t,” Lara said, punching her fist into her palm. “I’ll throw his sorry arse out!” There was a faint scar over her eyebrow from throwing someone out at a bar in London, years ago, so she wasn’t a stranger to unruly patrons. And sometimes, she really liked when they gave her an excuse.
Grantaire had spent enough time in different bars to be able to notice who was the most likely to get kicked out. He preferred to keep his fighting to the fight clubs he found sometimes, though there were the times he got himself thrown out of a bar because there were people who really deserved being punched.
“I almost hope he doesn’t get a drink in his face, then.” She seemed itching for a fight, so why not let her throw the jerk out instead of said jerk just getting doused in alcohol?
Fight Clubs? Grantaire would get along with Kitty. Lara leaned on the bar with a soft smirk on her face, keeping one eye on the man and the other on Grantaire. The woman he was with was looking increasingly uncomfortable, and when he grabbed her arm, Lara strode gracefully from behind the bar. She wrapped her hand around his wrist and twisted his arm up and back. "She's not interested, are you going to leave nicely or do I have to make you leave?"
She didn't really wait for an answer, punching him in the kidney and then half dragging-half pushing him out the door.
Had Lara not intervened (as an actual employee of the bar, meaning she could get away with it), Grantaire probably would have himself, alcohol consumed or not. Some things just really made his blood boil, no matter how much he claimed to not care. No matter how much he brushed everything off with a joke. As it was, he just sat back and watched as Lara handled the jerk, finishing his drink in the process.
She waited until the man had stumbled away, his tail and his pride tucked between his legs.. She poured a drink and brought it over to the woman on the house, then she returned to her spot behind the bar. With a voice as dry as a martini, she said, "I was hoping he would have resisted."
“Damn shame he didn’t. Then again, he’s the type who when he’s not in control, suddenly he loses all fight because he just acts that way to feel better about himself.”
Drunk more often than not, a general dislike of people and jokes aside, Grantaire watched, he paid attention. He just had perfected his act of indifference to the point where he sometimes just didn’t know the difference and felt it was legit. Complicated, all of it.
"He got chased out by a Brit, that's going to hurt." She grinned at him, then gestured at his glass. "Would you like some more?" She didn't think he was near a limit for cut off, yet.
“My five favourite words.” That was an appropriate response, right? Sure. It was in his book and he was perfectly capable of holding his liquor. He’d been doing so since he was a teen. Anything to avoid dwelling about his crap father and all the neglect and hate in the house when he was actually there.
“And he can deal with wounded pride at being kicked out by you. He deserved it.”
Lara poured the drink, and slid the glass back over to him. "If he shows his face they're not going to let him in again. He's basically gotten himself banned from this bar. They're pretty good about keeping the bastards out, when they really deserve the snubbing."
Gratefully catching the glass, Grantaire picked it up with a fluid motion. This certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been given a drink in such a way. Oh no. The bars he frequented often enough had different ways to deliver drinks depending on who was bartending and the dynamic between them.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m so well behaved. I’d hate to be banned from such a fine establishment.”
Oh, it was debatable on how ‘well behaved’ Grantaire was. But he certainly wasn’t like the moron who had gotten himself banned for being a complete ass. Grantaire was just a smug jerk to his friends, and they all knew that he wasn’t serious.
"Don't push yourself on the girls and you'll be fine," she replied, her tone echoing Grantaire's. "I'd hate to bust up that pretty face of yours." Lara wasn't the most social person, but she'd picked up a few tricks from tending bars.
“My face appreciates the sentiment. It’s been busted up plenty before.” Really, he didn’t understand the need guys had to push themselves on girls. He’d seen a lot of that whenever he’d run away. The street kids always backed up one another and that never really went away despite not being on the streets anymore.
"It adds character," she assured him. Getting busted up wasn't exactly something she was unused to, so she could emphasize. Her phone chimed, and she took it out to take a look. "Shifts up, I'm afraid. Want anything else before I go?"
The saddest part of the night, when bartenders had to leave. Well, sometimes. Depended on the bartender and how the conversation was going. This had been a good conversation and Grantaire was sad to see Lara leave. Oh well, he’d just make sure to frequent this bar more often.
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks for the service. I hope you have a good night.” He would just have to make friends with whoever took over her shift. Not that hard of a thing to do, really.
"If you're on the valarnet, feel free to look me up." Lara nodded at him, then walked out from behind the bar as a big man came up to replace her. She nodded in Grantaire's direction. "This one has already had three, but I'd say he could handle a few more. Have a good night!"