ooc; HMD

Feb. 9th, 2013 09:29 pm
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H O W ' S   M Y   D R I V I N G ?
cynisme: (Default)
Player Information:
Name: Miri
Age: 22
Contact: aikeichan@gmail.com / ~pondicusrex @ plurk

Character Information:
Name: Guillaume Sebastien Grantaire
Canon: Les Miserables (Novel)
Canon Point: Directly after being shot, at the end of the final battle
Age: 28 is the best average estimation, given that he is younger than Bahorel and Lesgles, who are in their thirties, but older than Enjolras, who died at 25, and still a mildly active Ecole de Beaux-Arts student (likely begun in his early 20s as he would have been an older teenager when he began his Atelier training with Gros).
Reference: The Les Miserables Wikipedia page does not do Grantaire justice, with only a few sentence explanation. He is best referenced directly in the text by searching for his name.

Setting: Grantaire is from our real world, with an emphasis on historical accuracy from the writer’s perspective. His world is that of Paris in the early 1830s. The Paris of the 1830s is a very different landscape from the Paris of today, mainly due to later interventions by the government in architectural planning. The Paris that Grantaire is familiar with is primarily build up on the medieval city, with shoddily built houses and narrow streets, perfect for barricading. (The long, wide boulevard would not exist for another two decades). After the fall of the Bourbon monarchy in 1830, the student groups of Paris (of which Grantaire is an aligned member) are in a state of discontent with the new monarch, Louis-Philippe. His environment is one of educated, bourgeoisie boys in rage against their bourgeois roots and the endless monarchical society. The artistic and literary trend of Romanticism is in full swing, and cholera was spreading rapidly. the sewer system and new bridges of Paris were only being installed at this point, and hardly commonplace. The streets are muddy, overpopulated, and the only true bridge between the rich and the poor are the students--more often rich with philosophical and social interest in the poor. This is the Paris of Delacroix, of Puccini, of Musetta’s Waltz and the wreck of the Medusa. France is still sore from revolution and bubbling with discontent, while imperialism and trade expand further out across Africa and Asia, bringing exotic fare back home to those who can afford it. Had Grantaire and his friends lived, they would have seen the advent of the daguerreotype and the boom of electricity. Theirs is a life on the cusp of a brave new world but not quite pushed over the edge.

Personality: Grantaire is, above all else, a cynic. he is described in a great amount of detail by Hugo as a man who has faith in nothing and lives his life with irony. He is riddled with contradictions, as a enthused cynic, a highly educated and knowledgeable bum, and a believer who purposefully believes in nothing, having no fully formed ideas but rather bits and pieces of every idea he sees fit for his philosophy. He sees the world as a dirty, disappointing place, and has little to no faith in god or people to do the right thing, whatever the right thing may be. As Grantaire sees it, people will always act selfishly before they act just or nobly. If he did not drink so much, it is entirely possible that Grantaire would be a more somber, grumpy man than he is, judging from his opinions on art, poetry, king and country. He drinks, though, so frequently and with such vigor that he smiles, jokes, laughs with and at his friends and enemies. He drinks because the world is dark, and a drunk man feels less pain, and can smile more freely in the face of disappointment. Because he drinks so frequently his inhibitions are wildly lowered, causing him to go on tangents and to speak his mind more often than he would likely do sober. He is also, due to that, actually quite fun. It is entirely possible that his friends are really only his friends because he’s tolerable to them only when drunk.

Grantaire is, despite being a bum who drinks his life away and lacks much motivation to do anything at all, a very educated, intelligent person. He is a student at L’Ecole de Beaux-Arts, and has been described by Hugo as someone who knows everything there is to know about Paris. He’s a man of detail and memorization, implying by his attitude in contrast with his actual range of knowledge that he’s a fast learner, and an observant one, who doesn't need to study quite as hard as others might. Instead he lounges, spouting off pessimistic but highly informed opinions ad nauseum, as well as throwing in amused commentary to the conversations of others. He is, more than anything else, an attachment to his group of friends rather than a member in his own right.

(It is also worth noting that his status as an art student in Paris reflects aspects of his personality. An art student at this time would be able to succeed and yet still get away with being less serious and less focused. There is also a level of cynicism and nonchalance afforded to academy art students, that hasn’t quite dwindled to today. They are traditionally the more emotive, less severe type of students. Jehan and Grantaire together can also be seen as representing two different aspects of Romanticism: the poetic, positive Romanticism, versus Negative Romanticism. Theirs is a philosophy based on passion and human nature instead of rational and higher logic.)

Despite Grantaire’s cynicism and his self-described attempt at believing in nothing at all, he does have one guiding light. His dedication of Enjolras has been compared by Hugo to the dedication of Hephaestion to Alexander the great and that of Patroclus for Achilles. In the darkness the only light is Enjolras, who serves as his true foil. Where Grantaire is disappointed and disenchanted, Enjolras is passion, faith and dedication embodied. Grantaire’s love for Enjolras stems from a need to fill that hole in his life, and he leeches off the sunlight that his Apollo produces. It is important to note that he does believe the government to be wrong, he simply does not believe that anyone can do anything about it at all. The wicked will always win out, for they are cunning and unafraid to win their way by any means. Where Grantaire doubts human ability to be purely righteous, there stands Enjolras who seems to embody exactly what he knows people to lack. It is the idea, to Grantaire, that if Enjolras could prove him wrong, prove that there is someone on this earth who would give up everything they have for the well being of others and take nothing in return, then it would all be worth it. He would do anything for Enjolras, the beacon of hope in his otherwise dark and dreary life. It is through Enjolras that we see that Grantaire is not a coward, despite being lethargic, and has far more potential than he exerts. He strives for Enjolras to notice him and to be proud of him. Unfortunately, his drive is never quite as strong when Enjolras isn't around, and most of his attempts fall short.

As for death, Grantaire would react marginally better than some others at being told he was in an in-between place(which he will assume is simply purgatory). His death was a voluntary, albeit drunken, action. It can be assumed in the novel that he had long since prepared himself to die, with his dedication and devotion to Enjolras and his constant acknowledgement that their revolution will fail. This is where he is brave, for he truly believed that they would fall to their deaths and stayed behind the barricade nonetheless. He was prepared to die for Enjolras or be disappointed by him. When death came, he was drunk but ready. Being sober and wet will be a much greater shock than having died. He has already made his peace with it, for what worth is a life without something you would die for?


Abilities: Grantaire is but a powerless mortal, but does possess a sharp intellect and an iron liver. He is described as the most knowledgeable amongst his friends, despite his lack of dedication to any subject. this implies a strong memory and keen observational skills, at least when his senses aren't dulled by drink. it can also be assumed that he has substantial artistic ability, as an art student at the Ecole de Beaux Arts. His teacher was a painter, but it would not be unusual to have limited skill in sculpture as well. hand in hand with being a painter is the most basic understanding of chemistry and carpentry, as tuned paints were a rather new amenity and stretchers for canvases were made by the artists themselves. he also knows how to shoot a gun, though not particularly well.

tricolor wrap around his waist, knotted.
Tricolor rosette
Small Silver pocket flask
A pistol, with a bullet still remaining
A box of matches soaked through, no pipe
3 franc 20 sous

Suite: Wood, because while Grantaire would fit anywhere by means of not fitting anywhere at all, his heart belongs to Enjolras. He’s also not particularly combative (physically at least), and absent minded is a state of mind he approves of. The floor count is completely irrelevant to him.

In-Character Samples:
Third Person: Sober is a terribly overrated state of being. Sitting on the ground, tree bark behind him satiating the itch of sea water he hasn't yet washed off, he’s more than glad for the bottle in hand. Finding a wine shop hadn't been hard, not with how helpful these people seemed to be. It had been his first goal, to find one, rather than bother with cleaning himself up or orienting himself to whatever limbo or purgatory this was. The irony that he can drink in the afterlife, which he’s surprised enough at the existence of, almost makes him laugh. He would laugh harder, deeper, if it didn't ache so much, like something was digging into his ribs from the inside.

Waking up gasping for breath, wheezing, and soaked to the bone hadn't been easy. Everything ached and stung like the salt water was burning him from the inside, and sobriety was blinding him like the crisp, shining sun. Now the wine has gone to his brain once again and he can manage, watching the dull glow of the ground below him. It has a warm presence to him, or perhaps that’s just the contrast of wine to chilled blood in his veins.

Only now when the world around him is dulled and malleable once again does he slide a hand into his shirt, to poke at his wounds. Definitely dead, then, if he’s not bleeding profusely and not passed out from shock and blood loss already. It’s a medical oddity he can only imagine that Joly or Combeferre would want to dissect him for, no matter what cost to his person. He wouldn't blame them, they’re only human like everyone else. He sighs through his nose, dropping his head back against the bark of the wood and staring up at the sky. Bottle to mouth, he wonders: If he’s here, what heaven has Enjolras passed to?


[He’s washed up now, wine poured into a glass he found in his new living quarters, wearing something clean.

Clean for now, at least. He taps the screen, still quite maladjusted to this but taking it in stride.]

Alright, in theory i know how this works, but how I’m expected to be comfortable with such radial, fantastic changes to the everyday and mundane is a touch ridiculous. We the people do not change so easily, we do what is comfortable to us until it is no longer comfortable. See my own actions as an example. I arrived on this plane, sober, soaked and in pain, so my first action was to find an escape from two of the three ailments.

[He holds up his glass with a lopsided smile, a toast to the screen, before taking a drink. A drop dribbles down his chin and stains the collar of his shirt.]

Mm, and who would have thought that the afterlife would dress me like a china-man? Not so high and mighty are the empires of Europe now, I see.


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February 2013

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