The Minotaur's smile is a bitter, snarling thing, upper lip rising over smeared, yellow tusks.
"You don't understand this maze, tribute. All turns lead to the same pit in the end."
(Grantaire, meanwhile, has pressed his hands against the wall and is digging his fingernails into the crumbling stone. The need to make some comment, or at the very least to burst out into laughter once more, is almost physically painful. He did dare the world to do its allegorical worst, didn't he? The more fool he!
But instead, he has to stand back and allow Enjolras' overwhelming, shining earnestness to wash over every monster in the place, himself included -- with his usual survival methods for this kind of onslaught, alcohol and irony, both entirely unavailable. It's very nearly tortuous. Which is completely ridiculous, and the fact that he can't even laugh at himself about it makes it all the worse.)
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"You don't understand this maze, tribute. All turns lead to the same pit in the end."
(Grantaire, meanwhile, has pressed his hands against the wall and is digging his fingernails into the crumbling stone. The need to make some comment, or at the very least to burst out into laughter once more, is almost physically painful. He did dare the world to do its allegorical worst, didn't he? The more fool he!
But instead, he has to stand back and allow Enjolras' overwhelming, shining earnestness to wash over every monster in the place, himself included -- with his usual survival methods for this kind of onslaught, alcohol and irony, both entirely unavailable. It's very nearly tortuous. Which is completely ridiculous, and the fact that he can't even laugh at himself about it makes it all the worse.)