(no subject)

[petitbaron]

So, Georges is sprawled across a couch, with a bottle of absinthe and a pile of papers nearby, writing rather busily. He's completely forgotten his birthday was yesterday; he looks like he hasn't gotten sleep in a few days. What can we say, when the muse finally appears, she arrives with a vengeance. (In other words, yes, he has been writing for two days.) Feel free to poke at him, insult him, or give him presents.