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[Good morning-- Is it morning? Evening? Day! Good day! Courfeyrac still has a hard time determining this on this ship. There must be some sense of time, after all, even if not by the sun and moon. Regardless, here’s an early 19th century dandy who has writing all over his face in sharpie.

Yes. That’s correct. Not just writing, but terrible poetry and double entendres and all of the innuendo. All over his face.

But he’s still grinning all the same, because he knows exactly why this is the case. He rubs his eyes for a moment before actually addressing everyone, his smile mischievous.]

It should seem that I awoke this morning with writing all over my face. Alas, my mysterious scribe is nowhere to be found. Perhaps someone would be so kind as to read it for me? Everything appears reverse when I look into a mirror.

What’s more, if someone finds the culprit, please do return him to me, won’t you? I imagine he is wandering the halls with a permanent marker in hand looking particularly devious.

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[Enjolras is just shaking his head at Courfeyrac, trying hard to hide a smile.]

What on earth did you do, Courfeyrac?

It is a sad world I live in when it is assumed this is entirely my fault.

Well, something must have required such --creative revenge.

I do believe this is because of the hair gel incident. However, do not be surprised should he choose to retaliate further because of my own retaliation here.

As long as you do not choose to retaliate upon me, I think we will be quite alright.

[There's a slight pause.] Are you well? I feel somewhat -- distant from you, here, I cannot say I like it overmuch.

I shall not retaliate upon you, I do swear that.

[Though as Enjolras continues, Courfeyrac sobers immediately.]

I apologize... I... [Ugh omg talking about feelings. He frowns.]

Would you care to meet with me in Jehan's [And my] room so we may talk about this more privately?

[Well, not really feelings, he just misses Courfeyrac and wishes to change that.]

--Why, certainly, I would never turn down spending time with you.

[Well, feelings are partly the reason why they have not seen each other in a while.]

I'll leave the door open, in that case, and see you soon.

I shall be there presently. [And hr is, as promised, showing up a short time later and knocking at Courfeyrac's door.]

You may come in, my friend.

[Courfeyrac is presently looking at his reflection in the mirror, reading the parts he had missed.]

[He is, then, giving Courfeyrac an amused glance as he does so.] Do you need some help with that?

No, no... That is not necessary. I feel as though I should wear this shame a little longer before I part with it.

Would you care for some wine or perhaps candy, mon ami? I am nothing if not a gracious host.

Does soap and water take it off, then? It is some sort of ink, is it not?

--Ah -- wine, please, if you have it.

I've been told soap and water... and salt... Will do the trick. We shall have to see. But until then, I will accept this fate.

[And off he is to get the wine from its spot, pouring a glass.]

We do... We brought back quite a bit from the Cyllene. Whatever we could carry, to be perfectly honest.

Salt? How very odd.

[There's a nod, and a grin.] I see, when Bahorel and I were off braving the darkness. Was there quite a lot there, then?

Salt... But I do have reason to believe she was correct. She had no reason to lie to me otherwise.

[He hands over Enjolras' glass and pours his own.]

We recovered fruit, chocolates, champagne, wine... And some clothing. Quite a bit to be had-- I'm sure that had we remained longer, we would have been able to retrieve even more.

Very well then, I see no reason not to believe her.

[An eyebrow raise, still with that grin.] And then we would likely have lost you to the Cyllene, if there was so much clothing to be had.

I will attempt it and tell you if she was correct or not. Just in case this fate should ever befall you, my friend.

[He laughs into his wine, now having it filled and taking a sip from the glass.]

I am certain you saw how ill fitting the clothing was, what with how Jehan and I managed to not look proper in any of it. You would not have had to fear losing me to the strange, desolate ship.

I shall remember it, should Combeferre decide to smear ink on my face.

Good. [And there is definitely some fondness there, taking a sip from his own wine.] I should very much hate to lose you, after all.

We will be brothers in our fate, should that ever happen. I will have your back, as they say.

[Oh...

Well, that made him feel a bit guilty over his absence around the others. Hiding behind his wine for just a moment longer, he lowers the glass from his lips and manages a small smile.]

I would hate to be lost. It is not on my agenda for quite some time, if ever. I truly am sorry for being so scarce as it is.

He may well do it on accident, knowing him. But they do not have the same sort of pens here.

[It was unintentional, of course, but he has missed Courfeyrac.]

It is not on mine, either, do not worry. [There's a brief smile.] It is alright, you have been rather occupied. I would simply feel somewhat...easier with you by my side.

Then to your side I shall return as I am able to. You are truly a good friend for not losing your temper with my absence by this point.

It is very difficult to lose my temper with you, you know that.

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