[center][h1][color=fff200]Jacques Clerc[/color][/h1] [img]https://storage.googleapis.com/imgfave/image_cache/1354501949988307_animate.gif[/img] [hr] [color=fff200]Location:[/color] Marketplace near St. Peter's Church [/center] [hr] Sister Mary Hale as did stick out like a sore thumb, at least in the eyes of one who does not deal with her kind on a daily basis. Jacques did pity what poor men and women had the unfortunate pleasure of worshipping the same lord, yet performing the wrong practice. He shot her a smile as he began walking towards the sister before his eyes wandered towards the crowd. Paupers, those who have come down with such misfortune, seemed to be conjugating in a small group, discussing something unheard by the father. However, within the passing of another crowd, the paupers disappeared. Confusion wracked Jacques’ face, but he quickly dismissed the thoughts, expecting the poor to simply go off and beg as they would usually do. They would simply go off to satisfy their own greed instead of repenting to the Lord who has caused them such misfortune to teach them a lesson on their own greed, typical. Jacques’ light smile reappeared as he approached the horse and Sister Mary, stopping at their side for a brief moment. [color=fff200]”Bonjour ma soeur.”[/color] the father greeted in French, [color=fff200]”How are you doing this fine morning?”[/color] He began fidgeting slightly at the cuffs of his suit, making sure they were on correctly and the likes. Putting his hands behind his back, he attempted to conceal his little fidgeting activity as his eyes wandered up the sister’s very own. He hoped that there would be little tension in this conversation, but he highly doubted that considering the two having their differing practices. In fact, it was taking a lot of willpower not to instantly give an annoyed look, having a catholic where she didn't belong. Heathens, they always go where they do not belong.