downplaying: ((( drinking buddies )))
Claude Bérubé ([personal profile] downplaying) wrote2014-04-02 05:32 pm
Entry tags:

(( LOG : liquor ))

[Characters:] Claude & Jean Louis
[Date:] 31.12.2017 / 01.01.2018
[Summary:] Oh God, they are so drunk.

[He's drunk. So drunk. He's not stupid, he feels it in his fingers, he feels it in his toes... Nevertheless, he abandons Vincent in Mireille's otherwise wholly engaging company, in order to cross the room to where Jean Louis has just poured himself another shot of their most expensive whiskey (a gift he's brought himself) and sit down next to the other man. Vincent's boss. Their once so highly profiled State Minister. Icarus fell, huh?]

You better have brought us something good.

[He gestures to the bottle of whiskey, half-empty already next to Jean Louis' full glass.]
population_ctrl: (unfailingly optimistic)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-02 03:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's a good whiskey, naturally. He wouldn't buy himself anything less and, well plainly, he's the one drinking it tonight. He does like thinking ahead, even if his political adversaries (and non-political, too) tend to underestimate his abilities to do so. Their loss, of course. Inevitably. He doesn't look at Claude when he sits down next to him, gaze focused on the glass somewhat... intensely. Mind too slow to bother with action.]

It's excellent. I don't buy...

[Pause as he searches for a better word than 'crap'. Because he's not ten years old. His brain won't cooperate, however, and he ends up just staring at the glass in front of him some more.]
population_ctrl: (come at me)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-02 04:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[Claude fills in the missing piece of the puzzle and really, it does seem to be accurate enough. It's one thing for Vincent to be completely obsessed with the details and to act shocked every time people around him don't quite follow his neurotics. But this isn't work and right now, no one has to care. Least of all Jean Louis. Turning his head slightly in Claude's direction this time, he gives him a long stare, taking a few seconds to process the sentence. It's a long sentence.]

Hardly. [He sips his whiskey. Again.] But go on, let's have a laugh.
population_ctrl: (my thoughts exactly)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-02 04:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[Well. What a question. He smirks, leaning back in his chair.]

To be very honest, I'm not sure good is the right word. [Anisette is a good politician. Jean-Paul will be good, in time. Potos is not a good politician. None of it applicable to him, at the base of it.] But I'm efficient and, more importantly, I keep my promises to my voters. It's not really about being good, Claude, it's about being trustworthy.

[He takes a pause for another sip. And a breath, probably.]
population_ctrl: (tell me more about that)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-02 04:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[He watches Claude pour himself a glass of whiskey, momentarily too distracted by his movements to reply. Whiskey really is a beautiful kind of liquor, isn't it? And the taste is so refined. He takes another sip quickly, just to recall it. Lovely.]

No, they definitely have. [He shrugs, the movement just a bit more casual than usually.] Apparently, people are very confused as to why they keep voting for me.

[Said with a chuckle. People are, as always, sheep.]
population_ctrl: (crawl faster)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-02 05:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[He notes the way Claude moves closer but doesn't take an interest in it - after all, idle movement isn't even marginally as interesting as this conversation is shaping up to be. He smiles, feeling quite satisfied with the thought; that they're all voting for him, allowing him the freedom to gain all the power he needs. Democracy. Hilarious.]

It really is just a matter of time. Next time, we're kicking out the LSP, no doubt about it.

[And won't that be satisfying. They've been watching Potos make terrible decisions for far too long.]
population_ctrl: (such intelligence)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-03 04:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[The question actually makes him laugh - a huff, mostly, but the amusement's as real as it ever gets with him. Never too mindful of his personal space, he simply shifts sideways a fraction to accommodate the sudden lack of distance between them.]

I'd make you a list if all his decisions weren't so forgettable. The man's not even trying, it's ridiculous.

[He shakes his head, sipping his whiskey again. And again. Every time he blinks, the world takes an extra second to stabilise itself; but well. It's good alcohol, what can he say.]
population_ctrl: (meet and greet)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-03 05:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[The smile turns into a scowl. He stares at Claude, eyes narrowed somewhat as he tries to put some words together that won't make it seem like he's actually got any kind of respect for Potos.]

No, Potos is simply too old for politics. He was marginally less annoying - [His words slur a bit at that - too many syllables] - ten years ago.

[Granted, the man wasn't actually head of state back then. Someone else was. Someone much better suited. Dear God, why hasn't someone voted him back in power yet? It's a waste.]
population_ctrl: (so they say)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-03 05:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[Once more, Claude's leaning into his personal space. Jean Louis rarely draws back first, however, and in this case he doesn't actually care overly much because yes, that's exactly true and he's got a comment on it.]

Things were better. [His expression darkens a fraction.] What's worse, I doubt the voters have had enough of the LSP. The polls don't lie.

[His glass is almost empty now. He looks its contents over, thinking about filling it up again. He's already drunk, though. And security isn't overly good tonight, what with Marcel out, probably sleeping his way through the whole underground. Decisions, decisions.]
population_ctrl: (tell me more about that)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-03 05:55 pm (UTC)(link)

[He doesn't really care whether or not Claude's sorry about something that wasn't, ultimately, his decision. Mireille did that. To the polls. The months following that book were... difficult between them. To put it mildly. Pouring himself another glass, he remembers something and smiles. Thinly.]

It was quite a circus, wasn't it? Vincent certainly did his best, taking the sting out of your little stunt.
population_ctrl: (come at me)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-03 06:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[He glances sideways. Was the man actually... sitting that close to him five seconds ago? He can't remember. Must be the alcohol. Accordingly, he takes a large gulp from his glass, blinking hard as it burns down all the way down his throat. Tasteless now because he's too drunk to taste. Anything. Nothing wrong with that.]

Least of all you. [This time, it's not a glance but a solid look, eyes narrowed and mouth curved upwards in a slight smile.] You must have been expecting the backlash from the beginning, of course. Ambition and ruthlessness are so very similar.
population_ctrl: (watch your back)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-03 06:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[... did he just waste all that precious whiskey? What a slob. The words themselves don't really matter to him - after all, Vincent's the one getting paid to care about his image. He doesn't expect anything from Claude, aside from maybe... an inch or two of personal space. He shifts backwards.]

Mireille's image is probably beyond saving. [He laughs. It's not a very pleasant sound but neither is it thoroughly mocking. After all, she's his wife. He doesn't want her to be unhappy. In general.] I could have told you, Claude. Next time, keep yourself better informed.
population_ctrl: (own up to it)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-03 06:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[He doesn't know what to focus on - Claude's arm slipping around his shoulders (??) or the words which, in many ways, trigger his paranoia somewhat terribly. Decently well-informed? But Mireille wouldn't actually tell him anything of any importance, naturally, she wouldn't dare...]

Meaning what?

[Deciding that the verbal implications outweigh the physical ones (he's not sure what to think about that in any case), he doesn't move, eyes narrowing to slits.]
population_ctrl: (crawl faster)

[personal profile] population_ctrl 2014-04-03 06:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[That's not an answer. And neither is that... hand... on his...

Expression freezing into something caught between surprise and a ton of belated realisations (about this entire conversation, from start to finish), he stares at Claude with something close to actual horror. He's so drunk, however, that it takes him several additional seconds to react, setting the whiskey glass on the table with a dull thud, hand shaking only slightly, thank you.]

Excuse me.

[And that's him, pushing his chair out. And away. Far, far away, managing by some miracle not to topple it over in the process.]