milliways_bar | (no subject)

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the...stable? There was...not much of anything going on, really. Javert has been sleeping out here for the last couple of weeks, and tonight will be no different. Cheval has been nosing around for his next bottle, so he fetches it from Bar, trying not to yawn too obviously where anyone can see. He also considers another blanket, but it seems indulgent, so does not.

Bar also produces a gift, which he stares at for a moment. This again? But then, he supposes it is the season. He asks the bar to keep them for now, and walks back through the snow to the foal. It may be Christmas night, but it the same as any other to him and he is sure it will stay that way.

Valjean, watching this exchange, follows him out.

[OOC: Merry Christmas, everyone! This post open through New Year. If you want to chuck random animals etc in, go ahead. The more cracktastic the better, say I. If not, no worries - he's taggable at the bar too. Also, I will be tagging up everything I owe as soon as I've wrapped the last few presents over here. <3333 you all!

ETA: I completely forgot to set this up the way I planned. Ah well. Valjean, when I tag him in, is also entirely taggable by anyone. And will probably be in a far more festive mood, lets be honest. Also, feel free to tag each other if you want to be all 'wtf I'm in a stable' to someone else! I'm allgood with that. <3]

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"Its caretaker might," he answers smoothly. "Do you have no names you particularly like, for whatever reason?"

This time he does not add the addendum not even your own.

'No. A name is a name, that is all. We have no control over the ones we are given - barring titles we have earned, of course - so they are just...what they are.'

It is not something he has ever given much thought to. Why would he need to?

'I suppose it is different for you, always choosing new ones.'

"I wasn't exactly consulted over my birth name either," he says, somewhat dryly. "But yes, I do have names I particularly like. Quite a few I'd never be able to adopt for myself, even. I just like the way they sound."

'And as you have children, and will again, you may yet put them to use.'

Not something he will ever have to do.

'As for me, I have what I was given, and that is all. There is no need to think more on it.'

"I may have to find you a nickname," Ganymede says softly. "Just to make you do so."

Without announcing it, he slides the box over to Javert--it's simple and in blue paper, containing a gold and silver cross styled of fleurs-de-lis on a thin silver chain.

'I would not recommend you try.'

He stares at the box for a long moment. Then sighs, and opens it with one hand, Cheval still feeding from the other.

The fleurs-de-lis gets stared at for an even longer time. His expression borders on sad this time, as well as being hopeless. He touches the thing with a finger. Then draws a breath, shuts the box, and slides it back towards Ganymede.

'Thank you. It is very nice indeed. I cannot accept it, but I thank you for the thought.'

"Why can you not?" he asks, not touching the box. "It's a gift that I wanted to give to you, there is no harm in accepting it," Ganymede says, watching Javert with the pendant.

"It was meant to make you smile."

'It is very becoming.'

In itself. He is not implying he would be more becoming wearing it.

'I have been inundated with gifts recently it seems. Your toaster pushed someone else into giving me something, which I then caused offense with by not using and thereby ruining. And I have not bought any gifts in return, nor do I intend to. Christmas has never meant anything to me; I do not see why it should be different now I am here. SO I thank you, monsieur, but I do not intend to accept anything any longer.'

The toaster has been returned to its box, and is packed neatly under his bed. Gifts are just far more trouble than they are worth, it seems.

"That it is," he says, agreeing, but shrugging.

"The toaster was simply because you seemed to enjoy the notion of such a machine, and it seemed easier than subjecting you to my world every time you wanted to use it or find out how it worked." Whether Javert used it or not was not of Ganymede's concern, really.

He raises a brow at the explanation. "I do not celebrate Christmas, so there is no reason for you to buy me a gift." But since he also knows Javert, he continues. "However, if you want to repay that gift I will tell you that by modern reckoning my birthday is in January--I am, ironically enough, an Aquarius."

'...why is that ironic?'

Things are clicking in his head. There are the stars, of course; he has always had interest in them. But there are the stories behind them, and he knows them too, but from sources he no longer owns to coming from.

'Ah. The cup-carrier. Yes, I see.'

It is muttered, and he looks at the box again.

'You see, giving gifts for no reason whatsoever is even more strange. I understand it is a custom at Christmas, and on birthdays for some people, so that is all very well if you join in with these things - but for no reason at all? No, I do not see how this benefits anyone.'

He is speaking idly. A sigh, then.

'Keep it. I will try and think of something for your birthday. If it is to your satisfaction, you may return the cross to me.'

"The waterbearer, yes. My constellation, as it were," Ganymede shrugs.

"I think you misunderstand me--I do not celebrate Christmas, thus I don't get gifts, usually. But you, to my knowledge, do, hence why I'm giving you one. And I don't know your birthday."

He's considering the notion of accepting a gift from Javert first before he gives one; it seems like that arrangement makes the man happier. "Very well." But he will return the cross. "It's January twentieth. My birthday."

'My religion does, if that is what you mean. I, personally, never have, beyond an extra visit to Mass.'

Which should probably be no surprise to anyone.

'January twentieth. I will remember.'

A pause.

'What sort of material goods do you enjoy?'