#musain

The assemblies of the Friends of the A B C were usually held in a back room of the Café Musain.

This hall, which was tolerably remote from the café, with which it was connected by an extremely long corridor, had two windows and an exit with a private stairway on the little Rue des Grès. There they smoked and drank, and gambled and laughed. There they conversed in very loud tones about everything, and in whispers of other things. An old map of France under the Republic was nailed to the wall,—a sign quite sufficient to excite the suspicion of a police agent.

It is right here:

Some details:

Here’s Corsica:

This word crime overpassed the measure of what Marius, who was already greatly agitated by the abrupt evocation of Waterloo, could accept.

He rose, walked slowly to the map of France spread out on the wall, and at whose base an island was visible in a separate compartment, laid his finger on this compartment and said:—

So, we’ve learnt that sometimes a café became the base of a group of people (for example writers, or reporters, or artists), because it was close to a person’s flat and they started to go there, then their friends started to frequent it and it became a base for the group of people who were doing the same thing and everybody wanted to go there.

(Like if you are a poet and you want to publish your poems and there’s a café where everyone started to go because all the publishers and other poets hang around there, you won’t care if it’s on the other side of the city, you will make the journey and get coffee there every week.)

And in the brick it’s canon that Grantaire lived really close to the Musain.

So what if all of les amis started to go to the Musain because Grantaire was there? At first, Joly, Bossuet and Jehan would always hang out there to hang with Grantaire. Then Bahorel started to go there, because he heard it regularly had a wild crowd and then Courfeyrac, because he always went where the action was and when Enjolras wanted to start a revolution he was like: the Musain is a cool place, many talented and open minded people frequent it, let’s plan our revolution from there!

Enjolras, after he’s had a few drinks, gets VERY confident. Yes, even more so than usual. So confident, in fact, that he once challenged Grantaire to a drink-off. 

“Anything you want, R, name you - *hiccup* - your price. But if I beat you, you have to be nice during meetings for a whole wee-- a month! A whole month!” “I don’t think so, Apollo. You’re clearly already drunk. It wouldn’t be a fair start to you and I am nothing if not a man of honour.”  “Not a fair start? Please! You’ve been drinking solidly for three years! Don’t tell me you’re scared to lose?” “As you wish then...”

Unsurprisingly, Enjolras lost that bet. Though, by the time morning came around, he had no recollection of why his head was pounding so or even how he got home that night. Or, for that matter, why Grantaire was passed out by the foot of his bed. 

That morning, he left before R woke up and went to the Musain for some explanations. None were offered freely initially, but once his laughter died down at Enjolras’s sensitivity to light and how much he flinched at the sound of a bottle breaking behind the bar, Courf took pity on him. 

In an effort to never remember first hand the exact events of that evening, Enjolras never mentioned it to R again and R never brought it up.

It wasn’t until much later that Enj would discover that he had passed out after getting a bottle deep and Grantaire, trying his very best not to laugh his ass off, had pretty much carried him back home and watched over him all night to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit and die in his sleep. 

Sometimes you catch glimpses of familiar faces

People who belong to an unknown Before Steps that must have echoed each other Shoulders you must have held

Smiles that you must have shared Fingers that you must have intertwined Eyes that must have met (even if just for a moment)

But your heart should not feel so drawn to a stranger And that connection feels oddly, painfully nostalgic.

Sometimes you catch glimpses of familiar faces

and you remind yourself  

“it’s only in my head”

Happy –more than a month after– Barricade Day!

also known as: Reincarnation!AU Day