Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by JaceBeleren
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Mathew Jem Darwinson

12:30pm onwards, April 10th-13th 2012


Mathew was quite happy to leave, when the day finally arrived in April. Things had been difficult at his home for several years now - his parents and their heir hadn't gotten along for a long time, because- it hurt to think about. At the scheduled time, he got into the back seat of his car (a 1954 Bentley R-Type Continental, one of only 208 ever made, in sleek black, of course), and was chauffred to the train station. It was from there he took the train to Paris, while the car was taken back home. Monsier Van Bonaparte had even been so kind as to providing transport for Atalanta, Mathew's horse. Though Mathew did not enquire into the process of bringing Atalanta across the channel, he did ensure that she would be treated well. He was satisfied.

The train was first-class, of course. No expense was spared in ensuring Mathew's trip was an enjoyable one, there was only so much that could be done outside of a stationary accomodation. Mathew rarely travelled long-distance, and was admittedly a little dissapointed with Bonaparte. But then, if the man really could do what he claimed to, Mathew supposed it was forgivable. After finishing his meal, he allowed himself to fall asleep.

It was late when the train arrived, but Mathew was still expeditious. His hotel, the Hôtel Fouquet’s Barrière, demomstrated that Bonaparte at least had good taste in accomodation. Unfortunately, his time of arrival limited his options somewhat - instead he decided to enjoy the city of love in the morning, since his sleep on the train had hardly been ideal anyway.

Mathew was reunited with Atalanta in said morning, who had her own accomodation on the outskirts of the city until the 14th, when they would be meeting Bonaparte in person for the first time. He was... an interesting figure, certainly. Possessed of an immense wealth, like Mathew, but shrouded utterly in secrecy to the point where many came up with make-believe about him. Why he would do that was certainly something Mathew was inclined to learn about, as he had difficulty understanding the notion himself.

Mathew spent the days leading up to then enjoying both the city and his hotel (like he said, Bonaparte had good taste). On the final night, he did spend some time in its very well-stocked bar, and admittedly it was probably a little too much.

Late morning, April 14th 2012


Maybe more than a little. Mathew got himself out of bed. Christ, his head... He did his best to fix himself, he looked like a wreck. Wait, today was- ok, it was still only the morning, he had time before Bonaparte's gathering. Good, it would seem unprofessional to be late.

His last few hours in Paris. He had seen all the things everyone seemed to get so excited about, so, after retrieving Atalanta, he spent much of his remaining time with those less famous. Though he was uninterested in most, he did find an odd little café that seemed to be utterly unpatriotic - everything about it seemed like it wished it were British, but didn't know exactly what that meant. Regardless, he certainly wasn't going to argue: Britain was his home, and had been all of his life. Even a false fabricaton was an attempt to recreate it, and for one who rarely travelled, such as Mathew, something familiar would be very welcome. He was just taking a seat outside when he saw a worried-looking man rush out of it. He wondered what on Earth was the matter, until he noticed the envelope that seemed to be the cause of the man's worry. The envelope that looked remarkably similar to Mathew's own.
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AT THE MEETING SPOT.
12:10PM
Lucia was a patient woman, she could stand around if she needed to, but this was too long of a wait. She didn't even have a phone to pass the time! She spent two hours between pacing around to avoid a cramped leg, looking longingly at the hotel and wondering whether they would allow her to charge her phone, and thinking about her grandparents and her cat. Maybe Sugar was taking good care of them. Lucia laughed to herself at the sight she imagined for herself: Sugar delivering her grandparents a cup of tea on a tray between two rooms.

Her laughed died down a moment later, and she sighed to herself. "I miss you," she muttered to herself, feeling a wave of homesickness hit her harder than it had before. Maybe she really did need her phone charged soon...

By midday, Lucia wasn't alone on the bench.

She scooted to the edge, hoping to give the newcomer enough space to settle down comfortably. Lucia watched from the corner of her eye as the blonde pulled out a notebook from her purse and began scribbling down something into the small pages. Lucia was curious, but soon averted her eyes to give the blonde some privacy. Well, it didn't last very long until she struck up some conversation.

"Ah!" Girlfriend? Lucia turned to look at the newcomer for the first time since she had arrived. She rubbed the back of her head, unsure how to respond. "It's- um, it's g-going well. Thank y-you." She grew quiet, her gaze moving back to her palms that were clasped in front of her on her lap. Was she supposed to ask the same question in return? What if the lady didn't want to comment on her day? Lucia chewed on her lower lip. Her need to be polite outweighed her anxiety. She opened her mouth and...

Growl.

Lucia's stomach suddenly rumbled. It was loud and absolutely mortifying! Still with her gaze averted, but cheeks in flames, Lucia shot up from her side of the bench. "I-I'm so sorry!" She took a hold of her luggage. She couldn't stay there a minute longer. What if something else embarrassing occurred? "I-I need to go!"

And with that, Lucia bolted.
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Orly Airport | April 14, 2012 | 1207

Thinking back on that morning, Henneth wasn’t quite sure what had happened. The letter he’d found on his coffee table under his mess of plans and drawings for work, the idea of what it held back when he first got it on new years. It pleased him, the thought of starting his life over from the beginning. While his engineer position was one that he’d wanted for so long, he had a fair bit of things he’d like to have the chance to change. Maybe then he could get higher in the company or even start sooner with not having the time of bouncing between jobs and the struggles of school that held him back for so long.

After he read the letter around 0834, he packed his bags and tossed them in the back of his truck. Unloading anything not wanted in risk of having it broken into while he was away. More or less tossing them about the mess he called his house. Fumbling around his pockets for the keys which he left on the table, the table that was now covered in the rubbage he’d collected in that truck of his. He shamefully got out of the truck, mumbled some words to himself and walked inside of it. Having easily tracked down his keys and having the feeling to say. “This time, it wasn’t hard to find them this time around, atleast my time wasn’t wasted like the last fucking time I had to do this.”

With heading onto the road, he made sure to not waste the tea he had in his travel mug he’d bring to work, this mug has gone all over with him, lasting through highschool and his university days that is. While it was all faded and nobody understood why he had it at this point, it meant a lot to him. While he couldn’t explain it anymore due to the mess that he was, he still knew the reasoning deep down inside himself. He couldn’t bare to throw that thing away, while it had seen a lot of bad days and near trash bins, it always came back into his hand at the end of the day and sat in his truck driving back to his house in the middle of the night.

The traffic was as expected for going into the city and to the airport, having to get a last minute flight to Orly airport over in Paris, the cost wasn’t the problem as he had more than enough to cover it, the fear came when he realised just what he was about to do, go to some potential nutcase in Paris, go to his estate and figure out just what the hell he had planned. He had a feeling there would be more than just himself there, hopefully no one that was that crazy or worse than he would be on one of those five day benders back in uni days. Those times, they were rather crazy and he acted as such. Going out of control and even having security handle him and toss him up a few times because of this. No, he had a feeling this wouldn’t be anything like that, he was older, wiser and had a much better reward for the risk he was taking. Starting his life anew, that was the plan he had in mind for so long now. If only he didn’t lose the letter shortly after getting it he could’ve been in Paris by now. None the less, the flight wasn’t that long with it taking just over an hour to get there from Berlin. With taking the flight time that he did, he’d have a chance to sight-see for a short amount of time and get something to eat. Probably some steriotypical French meal, possibly with some of that bread he’d always talk about trying but never got around to.

With his mind having done most of it’s wandering and the clock getting closer to 1020 as the boarding time, he got his bag and sat closer to the gate. With this, he closed his eyes for a little bit of silence from the outside world. Trying to figure out something to focus his attention onto. The airport was far too noisy for any sort of meditation that he could muster to conform to. The only comfort he had was his travel mug and the tea inside of it. Having to leave part of his carry no matter where he went at home due to it not being able to get past security at an airport. None the less, that was to be put at the back of his mind and to be made one of the last things to think about for the time being. For now his worries were to be getting to Paris and making sure to meet at the correct location for the escort to pick him up.



Somewhere in Central Paris | April 14, 2012 | 1257

With having gotten out of the airport about a half an hour ago, Henneths stomach was growling, hungry for even the finest of foods that Paris had to offer. While he could wait until reaching the rally point to get some grub, that didn’t peak the interest of him. Henneth had decided why not explore for a little while before having to meet up with the rest of the people whom got an invitation, besides, exploring Paris was something he’d wanted to do but never had the chance between schooling and his current position with this company. Those things among a few others and having him reside in Berlin, it was a bit difficult to do as such.

With his goal in sight and having left the airport on foot, his lack of knowing the language posed a slight problem for himself but none the less he was able to figure out a few things based on the windows and scent. He found himself at this nice little bistro on a corner of one of the many streets he’d wandered about on. The scent drew him in, while he didn’t understand the French that was being spoken, he managed to find one of the employees whom spoke German, with that luck he had, he had them explain what some of the items that they had were and from that Henneth placed an order, he didn't remember what it was called but it sounded like it would taste great and the scent it gave off once it finally arrived at his table. To go with it, he had some sort of French tea, rather fruity compared to what he’d usually drink but none the less it was fantastic.

After his meal, he was feeling better than he did before. Having paid for it and then getting a cup of the tea to go, he left the bistro and continued to explore this new to him, city of Paris. A few stores here and there caught his eye, not wanting to go into one unless he actually planned to purchase anything, he stuck to looking about at the store front and the display windows, mumbling to himself in a soft-spoken whisper, having himself in France, with most people only speaking French, he could easily mumble to himself in German without having any fears of being heard accidentally as he would in Berlin.

After wandering about for another fifteen minutes or so, there was a single store that caught his attention more than the rest, with it doing as such he actually wandered inside and looked around more than just the store front. Not understanding a lick of what was being said to him, he simply nodded to the clerk and looked around for anything he’d want to purchase. After about ten minutes of taking a close look at some of the items in display cases or in the open, he found one that no matter what he felt he should have. He got the clerks attention and pointed to it, Henneth attempting to speak in English was laughable. “Uh, S-sir, I uhm, purchase this ja?” Clearly his English was rusty but the clerk managed to understand it well enough to have the point gotten across. With his new found purchase and about eighty euros out of his wallet, he left the store and set off for the hotel rally point, given nothing else would catch him and take more time out of his day.

At one point while walking about, his tea ended out being inside of his stomach fully, he found the thirst wasn’t quite gone and stopped off at a local shop for some more of which ever kind he could nab. Once again with his rusty English, got something in a larger cup this time and set off once more. Having this tea a different kind of tea, black rather than fruity it struck more to home than the other one did. With that, he was glad with his purchase of it and it brought a smile to his face. Having himself wandering about hopelessly once more, deep conversation had started in his mind. Something to keep him physically active while he looked about for this hotel that was set for pick up.



The Arrival Point. | April 14, 2012 | 1342

After finally making his way about in Paris, his meal, the tea and the other stop. He finally made it to the rally point. Taking note of the seating and a few other beings having arrived before him. Not being one for talking all that much for the moment, he sat on a bench away from the one that was currently taken by a girl of sorts. He nodded as he walked on by her. Taking note of those around, inside or out. With that, he continued to sip on his tea and converse with himself in his mind. Essentally tuning out the world around him and only noticing the tea in hand and what was going on inside his mind. Going back through what had happened over the past few months, the letter back in January, losing it until yesterday and then heading to this location having been caused by said letter.

The only goal insight was what the letter had promised, any wish you’d want would be granted, if you wanted to restart your life that could very well happen with this new found situation Henneth was in. None the less, he had his goal in mind and was contemplating many things about this situation, be it that it may be trust worthy or complete madness, none the less, he was the one who acted upon it and made his way to Paris for all of this, having taken a leave from the company for personal reasons which was a first on his part to which it was allowed because of that. He had hardly anything left to lose at this rate, the worst that would be lost would be his position in life or his life overall. Twas a risk he’d been willing to take over the chance of any wish he so had being granted for him by this Bonaparte being, not knowing much about him, he had no reason not to trust him but he didn’t have reason to trust him either. None the less, he thought that all would be figured out in due time.

Now, Henneth had come back to the world at somepoint and was no longer spaced in his mind. He looked about to judge the location he was at, while it wasn’t far from the airport he was at or the sections of the city he explored. It seemed well enough for a rally and extraction point. While the idea of it being at a hotel puzzled him, it did make sense in the end of the thought chain. It made more sense than a cafe or store front, while there might be better locations for such an interaction, this did seem to be how it was all planned. Having people arrive at different times and or heading to the estate on their own. None the less, it seemed to come together rather well in the end of it all.

Having nothing else to do, he started speaking to himself aloud in German, wondering if anybody could understand him. Without much wait from that moment, he turned to the girl on the bench not far from him and gave off a friendly greeting. “Guten tag fruend! Ich heisse Henneth.” With that, he smiled and sat in a relaxed position and slowly closed his eyes in wait for either a response from anybody or until he falls asleep, which ever comes first.
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A Hotel in Paris | April 14, 2012, nearly 2 PM


Sonya walked with a spring in her step that she had not felt in some time. The beauty of Paris almost equaled that of St. Petersburg, but there was no means of comparison between the two. Where St. Petersburg boasted unified design, with splashes of color among the snow covered buildings, playing off their reflections in the water, built around centerpieces of palaces and churches and other beautiful things, Paris was entirely different. Several unique monuments marked the landscape, towering structures that stood out among the rest; there was no water, little nature, except around its center, around the Eiffel Tower. So much seemed artificial, but not fake- merely artistic. Where St. Petersburg was built around its people, Paris was built to stand out. The beauty of Paris was intentional, while the beauty of her home was incidental.

As she walked, Dmitri began to whine, squirming in Sonya's arms. She recognized this little noise, and began to search for a private spot to feed him. The child was nine months and a bit, teeth coming in, but his mother could not afford formula. Legislation protected breastfeeding mothers, but legislation could not remove the stigma surrounding such things. Out of a fear of confrontation, Sonya waited to find a private spot before feeding her son.

"Митя, минуточку, солнышко..."

Sonya looked down at the little boy, as he became quiet, and smiled back up at her. Her heart melted for a moment, and she hugged the baby close. He was acting quite well, in such a new environment. He gazed around at the new beauty of Paris, soaking it all in the way only an innocent child can. While she looked up at the wonders of Parisian architecture and design, at the fashions of the people around her, the boy saw equivalent wonders everywhere, even in the dirt. Dmitri was only in the lowest percentile for his age group, in terms of weight and size. The baby looked to be several months younger than he really was, particularly with that helmet on his head. The helmet- black, with his nickname "Митя" painted on the front- rested against Sonya's chest, cold even through her blouse. Little Mitya did not seem to register the cold plastic clutching his skull as something odd, he merely enjoyed life.

After several minutes of searching, and being turned away from establishments that insisted that only customers could use rest areas, the baby began to cry. Sonya ducked into the first building she saw- a hotel, the same hotel designated the escort point on the letter. She did not take time to marvel at the stylish design of the lobby, instead, she hid herself in a corner, trying to be invisible. Taking little Mitya out of the makeshift carrier she had styled from her blanket, Sonya noticed something odd.

The boy had a lump in his neck, the size of one of his tiny fists. He continued whimpering, sitting on the floor now, unsure of what was wrong. Sonya stared with sorrow at the child, before finally taking action.

With care, Sonya gently removed the helmet, and pulled her son into her lap. She ran a hand through the thick layer of curly black hair covering his little head. He was quiet for a moment, before whining again. Bracing the child with one hand, her arm supporting his head, Sonya began to massage the calcification from his neck. Dmitri grew louder, and louder, crying out in pain from the massage, but after a minute, that pain subsided. The lump, though, was still there. Bracing her son against her knee, Sonya helped him turn his head from side to side- to look right was easy, but left impossible, due to the lump. The strain caused him to whimper, as she slowly worked the lump out from his neck. Dmitri stared straight ahead, whining, but putting up with the stretch.

"мама!"

Dmitri called out, and Sonya stopped. The lump had started to slink away, falling apart beneath his skin. With a smile, Sonya picked Dmitri up, and held him close.

"О, прости, любовь моя. Я просто хочу помочь тебе почувствовать себя лучше."

With a stealthy look around the lobby, Sonya noted that no one was paying her any mind. The staff at the front desk ignored her, and the few patrons passing through did not seem to register her presence. She was not invisible, but she was as close as one could get. Unbuttoning her blouse, Sonya turned to face the wall, hiding herself further. Using her wool blanket, she covered herself and her son, and held him up to her chest. She watched the baby, but paid close mind to the door.

"В этом мире мы одиноки, солнышко..."
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Hotel, Inside | April 14, 2012 (02:08 PM)

♫ Baccano! OST - Manhattan Bridge ni Kakeru Yume

The sound of a toilet flushing went off, coming from the bathroom connected to the lobby of the hotel that was the meeting point for those seeking the escort to Monsieur Bonaparte's estate. The entrance to this toilet would have been a short distance away from where Sonya was currently seated on the floor as she fed Dmitri, although not immediately next to her.

After a short period of time - no more than perhaps five minutes - a man stepped out of the bathroom, carrying a bag of luggage in each hand and an oddball look on his face.

The seemingly young man was generally unimposing, with a fairly average height and weight, and he lacked much in the way of physical characteristics that would make him stand out from an ordinary Eurasian man -- very clearly what he was if Sonya was to simply take a look at him. He had roughly chin-length dark brown hair - difficult to determine if natural or dyed - which was mostly straight and was parted into bangs that framed down both sides of his forehead, though there were larger bangs on the left side than on the right. His dark brown eyes had a pair of square rimless reading glasses covering them. He had an extremely slight amount of facial hair -- just a few stray stands around his chin that seemingly got missed during his last shave. His outfit consisted of a simple green T-shirt, with a pair of dark grey pants - worn with a black belt that has a silver buckle - and very dark brown dress shoes. A yellow overcoat was also worn over his outfit, which was left open and fell down to his knees. Worn around his neck, in a manner similar to a pendant with a long chain, was a silver pocket watch.

`Alright, so... I'm not forgetting anything, am I...?` the young man thought, taking a few steps away from the bathroom entrance and placing his luggage down for a moment, scratching his chin with a contemplative look on his face afterwards -- not that his expression could be seen clearly with the light reflecting on his glasses.

"... I think I'm good." he said in English, just speaking out loud to himself in the language he was most accustomed to people knowing -- English was, after all, somewhat universal in the modern era. The sound of his accent was vaguely Swedish, but he otherwise sounded sort of indistinguishable.

Moving the hand away from his chin and using a finger to adjust his glasses slightly, the young man took a look around the lobby and observed the people who were around him, mostly just contemplating how weird the whole situation was. He had chosen this hotel specifically because he knew the meeting point for the escort was outside of it. This was not due to having decided that he would definitely take the escort - he sort of preferred his privacy, and there was a lot on his mind - but rather because he figured that anyone who arrived in Paris prior to April 14 would most likely stay at this hotel to make arriving for the escort easier -- those who planned on taking it, anyway. It was the most logical option, so the logical reaction on his part - as someone who liked to be informed - would be to stay at the same hotel, in order to get a chance to see what he could make of the people he would presumably be spending a fair bit of time with for a while. This was all under the assumption that the way the letter was worded meant what it implied -- a 'gathering' indicated that multiple people - not just him - were being called to this little shindig. Surely enough, he had done a little bit of internet browsing and confirmed rumours spreading about multiple people besides himself receiving a similar letter from the legendary 'Methuselah of Paris'.

It all made sense on paper that people would come here, yet strangely enough the entire time he had been staying in the hotel he had not even seen one person who looked like they might be one of those people invited. He had even struck up a conversation with several of the guests idly in the lobby on occasion, being relatively honest about the fact that he was one of the 'fabled guests invited by Monsieur Bonaparte'. Normally, he would not bother telling strangers something like that, since they did not need to know, but - considering how he wanted to be as informed as possible before arriving - it was a good strategy to make an exception. Still, while he could not guarantee it, he was fairly certain he had not met any of the other guests yet.

Holding out his pocket watch for a moment, he checked the time...

`Sixteen past two... That's not too bad.` he thought to himself, letting the pocket watch fall and dangle again a little as he looked around again.

That was when he noticed a woman -- at least, he was fairly sure it was a woman from her appearance, but she was mostly turned around.

From what he could tell, the woman almost seemed to be intentionally hiding herself as she sat on the floor in the corner of the room, almost looking like a beggar with that blanked draped over her like that, and the way she was staring at the wall made it stranger -- it was as if she was hiding something. He had seen some unusual things in his life, but this was probably the first time he had seen someone who looked homeless sitting inside of such a nice hotel, hidden away from sight. This never even factored in her ethnicity, which he could barely make our currently but from what he could tell she was a minority. She almost looked Arabian, but he could only see part of her face and shoulder.

"Erm, excuse me miss," the man said casually, with a fairly relaxed tone in his voice, "you alright there...?" he asked politely, a concerned look on his face. He had walked a short distance to the corner of the room, carrying his luggage with him.
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A Hotel in Paris | April 14, 2012, Quarter Past 2 PM


Sonya flinched when the man spoke. She turned away from him momentarily, hiding her flushed face and exposed chest. Removing the blanket, she folded it into a neat little square, and slipped it into her satchel. Dmitri let go, and she set him down on the floor, where he sat contentedly, gazing up at the man. Sonya buttoned up her blouse again, readjusting everything to cover her chest. After a minute, she was presentable. However, she still did not look up at the man. Embarrassment ran through her veins with a hot ferociousness, and it took her a moment to summon up the courage and ability to speak. Little Dmitri cooed, falling backwards to lie flat on the floor.

"Мне еще нужно накормить ребенка обедом-" She paused for a moment, realizing that the man had spoken English, and reacquainted herself with language. "I was feeding my son. I do not know laws regarding feeding in public, so I came in here not to offend." Gingerly, she approached each word with uncertainty, trying to enunciate clearly. Her voice, though smooth and soothing as honey, was broken by her thick accent, the breaks between words uneven and rough. It had been several months since she had last spoken English, so her voice was used to the timbre and style of Russian.

Dmitri reached up towards his mother, and Sonya pulled him into her lap. Twirling her fingers through his hair, she smiled, and finally looked up at the man. "This is my little sunshine, Mitya. Say hello, Mitya." Mitya did not speak, but his face broke into a lopsided smile. Sonya picked up from the floor Dmitri's helmet, and placed it on his little head. Fixing the velcro straps into place on the back of his head, careful not to catch any of his hair in the seams, she was as gentle as possible. Once secured in place, Sonya lifted Dmitri up into her arms, and pushed herself up, to stand.

"Oh, черт возьми, I'm fine." She lifted Dmitri up, and the little boy let out a giggle, and Sonya's smile grew softer. She brought him close once more, and her fleeting smile faded. She reached down, and with a fair amount of difficulty, picked up the satchel, and slung it over her shoulder. Reaching inside, she pulled out the envelope, and the map enclosed within, looking at it with a renewed frown. "Though I am not sure where I am. I can not read французскому, French."

Dmitri, with his pudgy little arms, kneaded at his own neck, where the lump had been. Still staring at the man with wide, smiling eyes, he reached out his other arm to try to touch this new person. Curious and confused, he looked up at his mom, as though asking for an explanation. Sonya raised her own hand to quietly lower her son's arm. "Митя, не груби."

She tucked the map back into the envelope, but did not slip the envelope back into the satchel. Rather, she handed it to the baby, letting him hold the thick package for a little while. For some reason, he seemed to enjoy the roughness of the parchment, crinkling the corners, playing with the flaps and contents within. Dmitri was very easily amused, it seemed, by the simplest of things.
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Hotel, Inside | April 14, 2012 (02:10 PM)

♫ Baccano! OST - Manhattan Bridge ni Kakeru Yume

`She looks Arabian, but she sounds Russian... Interesting.` the Eurasian man thought to himself, `Well, that's not so far-fetched really. People immigrate all the time -- her parents could've been immigrants if she isn't.`

With a casual expression on his face, the man listened to the woman explaining that she was feeding her baby. He looked like he might have been about to say something, or at least like his mind was contemplating for a moment, but then the baby interrupted his thought process and the mother introduced her child. While his facial expression remained friendly as the boy reached out at him, he once again looked like thoughts were going through his head.

`'Mitya'...? So, 'Dmitri' then...?` he thought to himself, recalling information.

Actually, this particular man - though sometimes coming across as an airhead to others - had an extraordinarily good memory when it came to collecting info, so he only needed to hear about 'Mitya' being a nickname for 'Dmitri' once in his life and that was pretty much it -- embedding in the database of his brain. Sure, the computer in his head was hardly flawless, so he kept data on his laptop too, but he often found he could access information without using it. Only a vague afterthought went into his mind about how the boy was wearing a helmet, but a mental note was made regardless.

Once again, he had something he intended to say -- introducing himself to the baby, to be specific. Before he could do it though, the young mother had apparently realized that she needed to respond to the initial question he asked her, and she confirmed that she was fine -- just lost. The way she explained it caused the Eurasian man to look surprised for just a moment though. Of all of the possible moments for this to happen... He had only just been thinking about how none of the guests of Monsieur Bonaparte seemed to be at this hotel, and now one of them was in front of him. Really, there was no mistaking that envelop, since he was carrying one exactly like it in his luggage. The man just stood there calmly as the young woman looked at her baby playing with the envelop, and then the man slowly placed his luggage bags down.

"My name's Sven, Dmitri -- Sven Lund." the man said with a friendly expression on his face, sitting down and seemingly opening one of his bags, "And you are...?" Sven asked the boy's mother.

After a brief moment to let the woman introduce herself - if she did, that is - the man continued.

"First off, public breastfeeding's legal in France, so you can relax -- it's widely accepted here." Sven explained, "Secondly," he continued, pulling out an envelop identical to the woman's and showing it, "it looks like we're heading to the same place. Actually, there's an escort picking everyone up at this hotel in a few hours, but I plan to head out sooner."

Sven was not entirely sure if this young mother even planned on taking the escort, or if she had come into this hotel knowing it was the location for the escort -- while the escort meeting point was explained clearly in Sven's own language in the information provided to him, this woman was unable to read the signs and more or less had just implied she was lost. Either way, if they were heading to the same place, all she needed to do was wait here or say 'Monsieur Bonaparte's estate' to any cab driver and she would get there fine.
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A Hotel in Paris | April 14, 2012


Sonya hesitated, before answering. Sure, the man seemed nice enough, and he looked at Dmitri with what she observed as something like kindness in his eyes. He even seemed to know the conventions of nicknames in Russia. However, this person was still a stranger, still a man. Trust was not something she could afford to hand out without regard, especially in circumstances where her environment was completely unfamiliar. She therefore maintained her frown, still clutching Dmitri close. Speaking quietly, she finally responded to his question. "Sonya. Sonya Romanov."

She watched him open his bag, and produce an envelope nearly identical to her own. Her eyes widened slightly, and she glanced at her own envelope again- on which Dmitri was now chewing- before looking back at his. Wanting to address the coincidence, she paused, but did not know a subtle way to approach the topic. She opened her mouth a little, but closed it after a moment, unsure of the English word for what she wanted to say. It took a solid minute before she could verbalize her thoughts on his first comment. "Um, not laws. How to say- конвенций? I do not know. The way people regard it, not the government. Individuals. Conventions, I think?" Struggling to find the right words, she stumbled over her sentence, fumbling with her pronunciation as well. She gave up, and moved onto the next point.

"I do not use эскорт. I will not take chance- Dmitri and I will walk to the estate, так безопаснее." Sonya shuddered, and shook her head. "I will say hello, I think, to the people with the envelopes, and then I will leave on my own." The last three words were emphasized, however unintentionally. She did not seem happy or angry, rather, determined, or at the very least logical and certain.

Dmitri cried out suddenly, dropping the envelope. He had cut his hand on the sharp paper edge of the flap. Sonya sat down on one of the chairs, setting down her satchel, and held his little hand in her own. The boy fell silent, and she kissed the palm of his hand, smiling at him. "Все хорошо, хорошо, хорошо," She whispered, holding his hand gently. "Не бойся, это только на секунду больно..." Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out a thin roll of bandages. Peeling off a bit of it, she wrapped Dmitri's hand loosely, to help him keep from picking at the cut.

Sonya bent over, to reach for the envelope on the ground, and her satchel fell off of her shoulder. Scrambling to pick everything up, she flushed red. Dmitri started to cry out again, raising his arms towards his mother's hair, grabbing a handful of curls, and pulling on them. Sonya took a deep breath, and tried to collect herself again, stammering. "I apologize, I am not good at balance."
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by MayLien
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MayLien The Lustrous Star!

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Lotus Engel & Henneth RosenKroft

(Collaboration with @CrazyShadowy)


12:10 PM – The Arrival Point.


“The girl speaks in a trembling tone.” Lotus jotted down in her notes. Her eyes were still fixed on the notes while her pen danced on the paper. “She gave a generic reply to my greeting. I'm figuring she wanted to ask me about my day as well to return the favor. Then with an abrupt roar, her stomach desired some sustenance. The girl seemed to be in a mental state of turmoil judging from her body language and a slight lag in her reply. I can't seem to detect any reason why she would be so nervous. Perhaps she's had some sort of trauma in the past that would make her fidget like this. She fled, assuming she was embarrassed about her needy stomach. She's like a mouse hunting down a piece of cheese.”

Lotus giggled as she lifted her pen after planting her last period on her though. She turned the page to start on another thought. Again, she just jot down whatever comes to mind. It didn't matter if the words were used correctly or syntax was out of whack or grammar is misspelled or making up new words that didn't mean a thing. That was the power of her imagination.

Over an hour later, a strange man decided to park his toosh on the bench. She turned another page and began as she using her peripheral vision to scan him.

“A rather well dressed man parked himself on the bench beside me. At first glance, he looks like a rich guy simply sipping tea next to me. He seems to be in deep thought as he took that sip of tea. What could he be thinking? A moment later, he silence breaks and offered his greeting to me...in German

“Guten tag fruend! Ich heisse Henneth.”

Lotus wasn't fluent in the German language. However, she was able to make out that simple greeting of “Guten tag fruend.” The other thing he said, not so much. Still, she quickly jot down in her notes the best she could on the German language and what he said. She replied back with a greeting of her own. However, she decides to playfully use her native tongue to repay him with a foreign greeting.

“Konnichiwa! Watashi no namae wa Rotus desu. Ogenkidesuka?” She turned and smiled at the man. She was having her little fun and was curious to get whatever reaction to get from him. Whatever happens is translated on ink on her paper.

"Ich verstand nicht, könnten Sie das wiederholen?"

While Henneth didn't catch a lick of what was said to him, he replied in the manner assuming they could understand that. None the less, he was bound to figure out how to speak to this girl one way or the other, even if they couldn't understand one another. The worst that could happen, strangers passing by would be confused by this conversation. If this bit of German didn't catch the young ones ears properly, he might try another sentence or attempt to use his rather broken English and see if she could understand that at all. He was still confused as to what language she had spoken in, something from Asia he would assume. In between his thoughts, he caught himself mumbling in German, hopefully at a volume low enough the girl couldn't hear.

“He's still speaking in German.” The writer's mischievous side sparked up as she wrote. She was giggling on the inside, wanted to continue speaking in him in her native tongue. “Let's see how long I can keep this language joust. It's rather entertaining.”

“Sumimasen. Watashi wa doitsugo ga wakarimasen.” She gave a polite bow to the classy guy. Again, she gave her slight innocent smile towards him and looked rather lost in the conversation. Her pen was catching every slight reaction from the man as her eye can see.

With taking mental note of how the girl acted, the bow that was given to him, while he didn't want to seem rude, he wasn't quite sure how to respond to this. He then stood up and walked over to the girl. Patting a hand on her shoulder and giving her a polite smile in exchange. "Wie geht es dir an diesem schönen Tag?" Still being lost in their conversation given that none of them understood the other. It was rather entertaining aside from that simple fact of the matter. Wondering how long each of them might keep it up at any rate, he considered using his rather, broken, English to talk to her. While he had been avoiding it thus far due to how it is and embarrassing it might be, he held off.

“There was a brief moment before he reacted by standing up and walked over to me. He then placed his hand on my shoulder and replied with another smile. Now, it was starting to get a little creepy the moment he laid his hand on me.” While her pen was transcribing the actions, she looked up with her right brow up. She started to become a little guarded from the fact he laid his hand on her. She began to give him a slight glare as if sending him silent message to take his hand off.

“Nani? Watashi kara te o hanashite kudasai.” She warned. It was rather unwanted for him to place his hand on her. She wasn't sure if he got this message. For all she knew now, he could be a creep.

With the odd glare he was getting, the feeling that having his hand on her shoulder wasn't welcome. He awkwardly removed it and placed it on the back of his head and once more, rather awkwardly chuckled. This time, raising his left eyebrow as to what she had said to him, unsure if she could actually understand anything other than her current tongue, he decided to attempt his native tongue one last time.

"Mein Name ist Henneth. Was könnte Ihr sein?" With that, he assumed giving his name and asking her hers might do some good, if not, he did have his very terribly spoken English he could fall back onto.

“He seems rather forward, trying to convey something to me. At least he does know a little bit of body language. I'm relieved to learn that he wasn't coming on to me. I am quite the attractive girl. But, my heart belongs to some idiot trying to forge a steady income for us.” She wrote. Her stare continued, ever watching his next moment. Then, he said something that Lotus could finally translate. It was a deep German accent he had when telling her his name. Henneth. What should she do? How should she reply? He was still a stranger to her. What's a classy looking man want with her? Perhaps... Perhaps he's some sort of German pimp, wanting to take advantage of her. It could be a reason why he advanced with a dreaded hand to shoulder display, unwanted touching. She decided to remain silent and confused though as she tilted her head. What was his next action?

With her not saying anything, Henneth dropped his head down in defeat of trying to get anything across in German. "H-Hello, m-my name is Henneth. W-What might yours? Ich denke, das ist richtig, be?" Without anything else to do, he resorted to his god awful English skills in a last attempt to speak with this girl. While the hand thing was a bad idea on his part, he thought of it as a friendly thing given her bowing to him. While he was unsure how she felt about him, maybe she thought he was some sort of German pimp or something. Only she knew what she was thinking about this man standing before her. None the less, he hoped he could turn what might be a bad situation for him into a good one. While this interaction was going on, he was conversing to himself in his head. It more or less consisted of attempting to figure out what she was saying to him and how she might think of him.

“Oh!” Like a light bulb lighting up in her head, she understood what he was asking of her. Her name. It was rather awkward between these two. She eased her apprehension towards him and smiled back. She wasn't sure how well his English was, so she went slow in communicating back.

“Hello, Henneth. My name is Lotus. How do you do?”

"Guten tag Lotus, ehm, m-my English is rather, eh, how to say it, poor? Ich tend to only speak Deutsche, it isn't helping that I live in Berlin. I do, well? How about yourself?"

Knowing how poor his English had gotten over the years, he was slightly embarrassed by it but it was the only way they could understand each other. If she knew German this would be a whole hell of a lot easier on him, none the less he was glad to have finally found a way to communicate with her in a way that both people understood. That could get some basic conversation going.

“Not to worry, Mr. Henneth.” She understood what he was going to. Her first tongue was Japanese. She had a bit of trouble absorbing another language when she was younger, but she had a drive to connect with other foreigners. It was a uphill battle trying to learn, but it eventually clicked with tedious practice. She invited him to sit down once more and do a little bit of conversing to help him out with some of his English. It was quite good to her friends wanting to learn and became adequate enough to teach it.

“Let's have a small chat. I've got time.” She offered while still writing in her notes everything transpiring. They began exchanging words while battling the language barrier.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Shoryu Magami
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Shoryu Magami 𝔊𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔄𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫

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Collaboration By: @Shoryu Magami, @tsukune, @Pudding



Luxembourg Palace, Outside | April 14, 2012 (11:35 AM)

♫ Persona 3 OST - Afternoon Break

Setting out with a fiery spirit Karlita was eager to make her way to the Luxembourg Palace. As she walked along the gutter, she envisioned the palace in her own image. Beautiful, vibrant flowers, placed in gaudy expensive vases lining up the hallways. The floors so clean her reflection could be seen in every tile. Butlers in masculine attire, ready to aid her and bend to her every whim. They were also gracious enough to ignore Karlita's thievery as she plucked petals and extracted the essences of the flowers.

Of course, that was all in her imagination, Karlita would be wise to thank her lucky stars she didn't bump into anyone as she walked along the edge of the pathway. It took some time for her to reach her destination, her walking time would have most likely have been cut in half had she taken the train, but nonetheless Karlita was there and ready to pluck some pedals and of course, take note of the beautiful building. The palace was three stories high, although Karlita didn't pay much mind to the architecture as she was enthralled by the flowers. The was a tiny railing about ankle height, obviously meaning:

'Don't cross this point!'

Any normal person would realise this, but Karlita was a special case and slyly crossed the railing to inspect the flora.
~
Express Train | April 14, 2012 (11:05 AM)

♫ Final Fantasy VIII OST - Breezy

Leonard and Rein had not said a word to each other during the trip, both of them more or less in their own worlds for the time being. Leonard had considered striking up a conversation a few times, mostly out of curiosity about what sort of place Singapore was and whether or not everyone there had an accent like Rein's. He was so used to the way people sounded in Brooklyn that he had to get his bearings a bit whenever he heard someone who sounded nothing like what he was used to. The words never really came to him though, for the most part because Rein seemed like the type who preferred to be left alone, but also because Leonard had a lot on his mind -- this was the day, after all.

`Rose...` Leonard thought to himself, holding out the locket dangling around his neck for a moment and opening it as he looked inside.

Shortly after he had gotten on the train, Leonard had gone along with his original plan and pulled his mobile phone out of his duffel bag, putting it in his pocket. He would have done that during his solitary trip on the streets of Paris earlier, but his mind was elsewhere and he wanted to just take in the view of all the beautiful streets -- there was probably only one way that experience could have been better, to be honest, and this had nothing to do with those thugs. Idiots trying to mug him aside, he was having a decent enough morning. As he waited for the train to arrive at the destination, Leonard would have preferred to remain standing, mostly just leaning against something like a railing, but he figured he might as well sit down. There was plenty of seats available since it was hardly busy right now. He kept his duffel bag close by, and mostly just tried to relax a bit.

Staring into the locket, Leonard's mind continued to reflect on why he was here. Though part of him had wanted to wish for something different, his adopted father had told him to be completely true to himself and not let anything get in the way of that. His insignificant, humble little world had been shadowed by a dark cloud ever since that day, no matter how hard he tried to keep his chin up about his life. It was sort of ironic yet sort of tragic -- someone who had been robbed of his parents before he even had memories, and who had lived a life full of misfortune and violence, had honestly been fine with his lot in life until that day. It was not being deprived of his parents so long before then that had destroyed his world -- Grove had truly been like a father to Leonard his entire life, and so other than curiosity about what the people who raised him were like, he honestly did not feel a sense of emptiness about losing them.

At the very least, Leonard did not feel it consciously. Whenever he tried to even get a glimpse of a memory before his real parents died, he felt himself getting heavy and his mind started blanking out. Somehow, it was as if a sort of psychological wall had been put up which prevented him from remembering anything -- it was like his mind was protecting him from something. In all seriousness, it was sort of... terrifying sometimes... when he thought he might remember something.

It was difficult to say he missed his mother and father, because he never knew them. Perhaps there was a hidden sense of longing to know them, since he was deprived of a basic human right, but there were honestly plenty of people in the world who were better off not knowing their 'real' family, and there were not plenty of people out there who were deprived of parents -- loving parents included. Grove had loved him like he was his real son, so he never felt like he lacked a father. Perhaps there was a lack of a mother in his life, but he was not alone in that sense either. Yeah, part of him wanted to get to know both his mother and father, and spend some time with them, but he would not have been willing to risk his life for that. Generally speaking, being adopted had taught him that blood really was not thicker than water at all. Leonard was satisfied with the man who raised him -- truly, he was grateful for it all. Thanks to that man, Leonard knew what it felt like to have family.

That was why he could never understand what his mind was shielding him from.

Meanwhile...

Reinald, who was seated facing Leonard with his back against the direction the train was traveling, stopped playing his mobile games - the phone had disappeared into his hoodie pocket by the time the train was leaving the third station, so he was left with only his iPod for the rest of the journey. Partly to save the battery for later (you'd never know when you might need to make emergency calls), partly because he grew bored with the limited apps he could use without internet connection (even those with high adrenaline rush like Temple Run 2 would quickly lose their charm by the third round).

The clash between the past and now was a constant sight as the train breezed down the route through the network of old and modern Parisian buildings. However, he wasn't really interested with the sightseeing opportunity beyond the window. He was more interested in what was inside the train.

Even though he didn't show it on his face, deep down the concept of double-deck trains intrigued him - something that didn't exist back in his hometown. What's more, the French spared no expense to decorate the inside to reiterate Paris being a city of fine arts to both its own people and foreigners, with wallpapers of Gothic art covering the ceiling and the back of the seats nearest to the doors to give the interior a somewhat pseudo-refined look.

There was hardly anyone on board - just a handful of lone passengers scattered around the rows of colorful leather seats - and Reinald's quick sweep around the train fell back to the companion across him once more.

That was when he noticed the locket that Leonard had, and the American seemed to be in deep thought as those blue eyes were staring into it. Reinald couldn't see what was inside the locket from where he was currently seated. Whatever it was, it must be something the blond boy hold dear. He was curious why Leonard had what appeared to be a longing expression on his face but chose to keep his mouth shut, swallowing down the urge to prod into the privacy of a stranger he only knew a moment ago.

...Well, he wouldn't like people poking their nose into his personal space, either.

The train ride continued on in silence, with both boys lost in their own thoughts and worries, too preoccupied to watch the scenery outside that blurred by.
~
Luxembourg Palace, Outside | April 14, 2012 (11:39 AM)

♫ Final Fantasy VIII OST - Balamb Garden

`Woah... check this place out...` Leonard thought to himself.

With his duffel bag over his right shoulder, Leonard found himself staring at the palace. Really, while he was used to buildings he was not used to something this old-fashioned -- it was really appealing to him. Leonard had always wondered what it was like to live in the old days, considering Grove had done his best to at least educate him a little about them. A world without the smell of cigarettes at every turn, and without the fear of guns firing off at any moment. A world without all the nonsense that was caused by the modern world. That sounded like a great time to live in as far as he was concerned, although he was not naïve enough to think the people in olden days did not have their own share of problems too. There were some benefits to the modern world as well -- though Leonard sort of found technology somewhat annoying he could still appreciate that it allowed people to maintain contact over longer distances easier, for example. Even so, he could not help but find the castle-ish building in front of him, and its surroundings, beautiful. He wondered what it looked like inside.

On the other hand, Reinald had his mobile out and the camera app booted up, shifting the angle of his phone here and there to capture artistic pictures of the Palace and the Garden. He did brought along a DSLR, but had left it back in the hotel with the rest of his luggage. Well, he didn't exactly have to rely on a pro device to take a cover-worthy photograph - he had the innate skills to take excellent pictures regardless of the type of cameras, without the need to photoshop them later.

He wasn't the only one shooting away madly at the attraction site; many visitors around him were doing the same. The only difference being that he didn't try to put himself into the frame of the small mobile screen like the rest.

Behind the camera was where he truly belong, not in front of it.

The thought of having a camera directed at him made the young Asian shudder a little. He was used to being a subject of joke at how he had - in the opinion of the peers around him throughout his school life - a 'desirable' appearance (which he had no idea what that was supposed to mean), but being the center of attention didn't sit well with his reclusive personality. Thankfully, his family didn't fuss about his aversion of being photographed, not even questioning how he was rarely - never - in the yearbooks.

It was almost as if he was a forgotten ghost left to wander the earth, leaving no footprints behind.

While Rein was taking pictures, Leonard was just really taking the surroundings of the whole place in. Not really one to use a camera himself, he usually preferred to see things firsthand. He was quite enjoying the sight of the building itself, as well as all the complementing backdrop - both natural and manmade - that accompanied in. He knew there would be a chance to see the interior soon enough, but he was actually making the most of the exterior for now. It mostly seemed like a peaceful day, with some other tourists - if 'tourist' was even the best way to describe him, since it was pretty questionable given his reasons for coming here - looking at the architecture and the vegetation alike. Honestly, overall it just felt like a normal day - or rather, normal in Paris, if one could even define 'normal' in the first place - for the most part, and it was a lot more pleasant than the sort of lifestyle that Leonard was personally used to dealing with -- a nice change of pace, which could only have been better if they were here to enjoy it with him.

At least, it was normal...

♫ Persona 3 OST - Afternoon Break

Turning his face towards part of the surroundings, Leonard noticed a young woman somewhere that he was pretty damn sure she was not supposed to be -- over what was clearly supposed to be a border to prevent people from ruining the garden, and seemingly getting a really close look at all the flowers. Sure, the woman with light skin and deep maroon hair might have just wanted to take a better look, or perhaps she was taking a close photograph. Honestly, Leonard was hardly the type who cared about needless rules or formalities, so whatever floated her boat was fine if no one was getting hurt. With that said, the problem was that she looked like she was picking some of the flowers. Leonard did not know much about Paris, but he was pretty sure that picking flowers from the gardens of Luxembourg Palace was probably illegal. Okay, it might not have been as bad as, say, someone trying to steal the Mona Lisa or something, but what was this woman thinking?

If Leonard had been a cartoon character, this was probably when a big exaggerated tear drop would appear on top of his head.

"O kay..." Leonard said, thinking out loud.

Next to Leonard, the outspoken thought made Reinald lower his phone, and he turned around to give the American a curious look. "...Something wrong?" Then he followed Leonard's gaze and noticed the young lady among the flower bushes.

That made the Chinese man raise an eyebrow. She must have climbed over the railing that kept the tourists off the grass to get in... But what Reinald found it amusing was how nobody, not even the staff on-site, seemed to find it strange how an outsider had trespassed into the area that was supposedly out of bounds to all visitors. Even more so that she appeared to be... plucking some flora?

With a small shrug, he raised the phone camera and snapped a photo of the lady. Proof of her illegal antic aside, the perspective and framing were perfect - as if the girl was one with the flowers.

Maybe everyone's too busy admiring the sight to care for a seemingly harmless act like this. It sounded like a dumb excuse, but the situation itself was absurd, anyway.

"Beautiful place, isn't it?" he murmured, glancing around the Garden. "Want to take a look inside?"

"Hmm?" Leonard mumbled to himself as Rein's words pulled him out of his distraction from the woman, "Uh, yeah, it is..." Leonard responded to the first question, though not until the second had been asked already. It should have been apparent from Leonard's tone of voice that he was genuinely sincere about thinking their surroundings were beautiful, because the awkwardness prior to answering had been out of distraction instead of hesitation, "Let's do it."

Though ready to go inside and see if the place was as gorgeous on the inside as it was on the outside, Leonard could not help but think about what the young woman was doing. Had she seriously gotten lucky enough to have broken the rules on the one day that the security was too incompetent or preoccupied to pay attention? Sure, it was pretty early in the morning, but no one other than Leonard - and possibly Rein, if he had heard Leonard's thinking out loud - seemed to be paying attention enough right now to notice her. Leonard, on the other hand, kept paying attention to her. It was hard to say if it was due to his general inquisitive nature, or just because of how weird the situation was -- probably both, honestly.

The white lilies were her favourite of the bunch. That's why Karlita was picking those ones whole, just severing them at the neck with her nails, placing them within her clutch. Some of water inside the flowers would drip or squirt out, as if she was beheading life citizens and the water was their blood. After collecting a few more pedals, a stamen and stigma or two, she placed her findings within her clutch and decided to enter the castle, who knows what they might have inside…
~
Luxembourg Palace, Inside | April 14, 2012 (11:43 AM)

♫ Persona 3 FES OST - Blind Alley

To Karlita's dismay, it wasn't exactly how she imagined the interior to be. Her hard heels clicked against the tiles of the reflective ground beneath her. The castle was so very clean and it appeared is if there was more velvet rope then open area.

'Don't touch this, don't go over here, don't pick the flowers in this vase.'

All these rules, how dreadful, how on earth is a young woman supposed to fully experience this castle if you have limited access to the many nooks and crannies hidden and tucked away out of sight. Karlita's nose began to twitch, it was a familiar scent, one of rich red roses. They weren't outside, but hidden somewhere in this castle. Closing her eyes she could almost follow the scent, it was leading her along a set path. Due to her work, Karlita had somewhat of a superhuman sense of smell, it's almost on par with that of a bloodhound. Elevating her nose into the air, Karlita used her powered nostrils to track the rich scent of these roses in the air. With her eyes closed, she blindly followed the pollen trail floating daintily in the air, unnoticeable to every tourist in the castle. Guided by her nose, Karlita could sense the bodies she had passed by, nearly crashing into a few poor fellows, admiring the artwork, taking pictures of the interior. Karlita was stopped by a small roadblock. Two poles connected together by a velvet rope, hooked to each pole by their sides. This roadblock was cutting off a single room from the rest of the hallway. Placing her hands on this rope, she could feel the soft bristles rubbing against the palms of her hands.

“There’s only thing standing in my way and some sweet roses. If I could get them, I could ferment them into some seriously powerful pheromones…”

Looking around, Karlita hesitated. Her earlier plant picking plan was easier, all she did was walk on some grass and swipe a few pieces of flora. This time, it would be a serious crime. One that could land her in canyon of crazy trouble. Karlita weighed up the possibilities in her mind, on one hand, extreme consequences. The other, a new perfume type for the locals, she could make a large step in her apothecary studies too.

With a deep breath, Karlita unhooked one of the velvet ropes, reaching out to grab the doorknob and secretly get these gemmed flowers hiding behind the door.

"Hey," Leonard suddenly said before Karlita could touch the knob, "whattaya doin'...?" he asked casually.

From the moment Leonard and Rein had entered the building, Leonard was quite taken in by how beautiful the place was inside. Honestly, it was the sort of castle that he imagined someone like Lucifer Van Bonaparte might own, which made him wonder if needed to get used to such extravagant visuals being regularly around him for a while. Unfortunately, he was unable to really take in each and every detail right now as he wanted to, because that young woman from earlier had his inquisitive mind too distracted. What the heck was that chick's deal anyway? Had she been a completely ordinary person doing completely ordinary things, Leonard would have just gone about his own business, but now he was curious.

Knowing that if he let that woman out of his sight, he might lose track of where he was, Leonard had quickly signalled Reinald with a "Hey, I'm gonna follow that chick...", and a quick side nod of his head as if to confirm that Rein should follow him if he wanted to avoid getting separated. He received a curt nod from the Chinese man in response, and started on his way through the halls, taking occasional note of the beautiful scenery but making sure his eyes never completely lost sight of his target. As they took off after the flower lady, Rein continued taking photos with his camera, seemingly having no difficulty doing so while on the move.

When the young woman finally stopped, Leonard had another one of his 'if he was a cartoon character there would be a big tear drop going down the back of his head' moments at the sight of her unhooking ropes that were clearly there to keep people out. Sure, Leonard was not the first person on the planet who would follow a law that had no meaning, but he figured there was a pretty good reason that boundary was there. He was starting to wonder if this girl was actually trying to get in trouble or something. After he called out to get her attention, he just stood there casually, duffel bag over his shoulder and silvery-blue eyes watching her reaction.

Behind the blond, Reinald still hadn’t spoken another word. All he did was raising the phone camera at the lady in question and casually snapping another picture of her, a close-up this time. An eyebrow arched slightly as he was more amused at how photogenic she was - even without the flower bushes around her like just now - than about catching her red-handed here.

Caught in the act, she was done for. Any normal person would have stretched out their arms and accepted their fate. Before turning around, she thought of a plan. Considering only one person called out to her it can be assumed only one person noticed her and because of that, Karlita could most likely make a break for it. If she was desperate - maybe even throw some of her flowers to distract him - although that’d be a last resort. The main issue being, she couldn’t speak the best English, so this language barrier was for sure going to get in the way.

To make some sort of impression, Karlita performed a turn with a hairflick to move with her, as if trying to distract the person who caught her with her own womanly charms.

Turning to face the voice, she saw not just one but two, the other person was taking photos of her. Not only were there two witnesses but photographic evidence of her crime! Well now her escape wouldn’t be as easy as just rushing this one guy. The blondie must be rather brave to call out someone in public. A real ally of justice!

The fellow snapping the photos was clearly of some Asian descent, but appeared slightly older. Justice. He could be just about anything, he might not even look his ethnicity, similar to Karlita in a way.

Well, she had to say something. Oh! Her Spanish to French book! Surely that would help, maybe they knew some French, even if she was just going to say awkward phrases.

“Quelle?! Moi?” Karlita chuckled with a nervous laugh. “Je suis simplement ... Inspecter les conditions de la réparation des domaines.”

Leonard had at the very least made a mental note about the fact that this young woman was quite attractive, and now he was able to see her blue eyes for the first time too. He did not think too much on her appearance though -- the whole situation was a bit too absurd for him to be distracted by her looks, even with the hair flick she added in seemingly for seductive purposes. Still, he finally started making more of an active thought about the cocktail dress she was wearing. For someone who seemed to have come to this place just to pick flowers and sneak around like a ninja, she was dressed surprisingly formally -- far more so than Leonard himself was, to say the least. It sort of made him wonder what the heck her deal was even more.

Only once the nervous words started coming out of her mouth did Leonard quickly realize they had a problem.

Perhaps assuming this woman would be able to understand or speak English by default was a bad idea, but Leonard could hardly have been blamed for counting on that when you considered how this was the very first time he had ever left America. All he could really do was stand there as she awkwardly tried to talk to him. From what he could tell, she was using a handbook - similar to what he had - in order to translate whatever her language was into French. Leonard had admittedly only used his handbook a few times since arriving, so he knew virtually no French at all. Like he told Rein earlier, he was unable to really even order food or ask for directions without consulting that handbook first. Given how she needed a guidebook - not to mention how nervously she was speaking - it was safe to guess her native language was not French, and he could rule out English too since he had already spoken it to her and had apparently not been understood.

Off the top of his head, Leonard had a sneaking suspicion that 'moi' was probably 'me', so at the very least she realized he was addressing her -- sort of obvious. The words 'inspector' and 'conditions' were recognizable, but he had no idea if they were being used in the context they would in English. There were also a few other words that sounded like they were fairly close to English, but unfortunately that was about all he had to work with. Leonard knew that an inspector was someone who enforced the law -- another word for a cop, basically. Maybe she thought he was a powerbroker? No, that made no sense at all. He clearly looked like a tourist himself, so it was more realistic to guess that she was asking him not to call law enforcement on her.

In all honestly, Leonard had never really thought about getting her in trouble, since he mostly followed her out of inquisitive nature rather than out of some sense of obligation to make up for the seemingly sloppy security here today. If this woman was not hurting anyone, Leonard really did not care less what she was up to -- he was still curious though. Rein had apparently just taken another snapshot of her, so that meant they had evidence now, but that was really not his intentions for following her. Still, the snapshot might have further justified this woman thinking they were planning to call security.

"Uh, I don't really know what yer sayin'..." Leonard said honestly, perhaps a bit awkwardly. Sure, he had taken a guess about what she meant, but he might have been wrong. He was starting to think it might have been a good idea if he got the handbook out of his bag. Leonard was the resourceful type - it came with the territory of being 'street smart', generally speaking - but language barriers were sort of foreign to him.

While Leonard seemed to be staring at the pretty lady (was it a habit of his to do that to everyone he first met?), Reinald was already pulling out his own handbook with his free hand after she had spoken something to them. Flipping through the pages expertly with just his thumb, he frowned a little, before he breathed out his attempt to reply to her, “Désolé... je ne vous comprends pas. En anglais s'il vous plaît?

Then his eyes looked up into the lady’s blue ones; he could feel his cheeks burning, inwardly cringing at his (bad) French as he tried to give her a small smile.

Leonard shifted his expression only slightly in response to Rein suddenly speaking something he could barely understand at all, but he figured that it was French. After having more or less been asked by the Asian fellow to come along with him to help out with communications, it seemed like Rein was a bit more used to this than Leonard was. At the very least, he kept his handbook more readily available to him. Leonard had mostly kept his own in his duffel bag, only bringing it out during something important.

Well it seemed as if these two were as out of the loop of the French language as Karlita was. But they seemed to be making an effort to try and understand what she was doing. Things were about to get pretty technical with the translation books. The blonde fellow spoke some English and appeared confused with her. She could try speaking some English, but she only knew some very basic words.

The Asian man began to flick through a book similar to hers and began speaking to her in French, strong enough that she could pick up on what he was saying. Flicking through her translation dictionary…

She could decipher his sentence for the most part.

“Engalish? Erm, I know little… I do not live in Francia… I’m, sightseer.”

Her poor English aside, Karlita thought maybe she could smoothly change the subject. Opening up her clutch she revealed some of her flowers.

“Flowers, I travel to see them. You like too?”

Reinald relaxed when the lady replied back in English, albeit broken. He knew that she was obviously not French since she also had to use the handbook like he did, which meant her native tongue was something else. Whatever it was, it was better than nothing - at least there was a common language of sorts they could all converse with.

Pocketing both his handbook and mobile phone, he continued to give her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. We’re also sightseers like you.” He gestured at her politely to make his point clearer.

When she opened her clutch to show them, his face lit up at the sight of the flowers. He wasn’t interested in flora per se, but he had to admit that they were beautiful. That aside…

“You like flowers a lot?” he asked, wondering if this girl was a plantsman. Technically, the term ‘plantsman’ was used to reflect one’s attitude to - even obsession with - flora, but the word ‘obsession’ was rather inappropriate towards a lady he had just met.

Well, if she would go to the length to swipe public flowers from a tourist attraction site in broad daylight, maybe she was quite the flower enthusiast after all.

“Uh, my name is Rein.” He tugged at his hoodie collar, sheepish, vaguely aware that it was the second time he was slow to give his name. “And this is…” he paused, giving the American a sideways glance.

"Name's Leonard -- Leo works too." Leonard said casually.

Thinking it over, it was clear to Leonard that this woman could at least speak enough English for them to know what she was saying, though - given how she reacted earlier, at least - Leonard still somewhat questioned if she could understand someone else speaking it very well. He made a mental note to keep his language as simplistic as possible when talking to her, and also to avoid letting his accent get too overboard.

Still contemplating why she was dressed so nicely, he did acknowledge that it was possible that a tourist might think that this sort of dress code was appropriate when visiting such a beautiful location, taking another moment or two to really take in how nice his surroundings in this palace were. Regardless, if she was travelling to 'see' the flowers then why was she picking them in restricted zones? Alright, perhaps she could be forgiven as just being some sort of ignorant tourist, but even Leonard - who had no experience of the world at all outside of his little place in America - thought it was fairly obvious that the boundaries she had been crossing were there for a reason.

Smirking a bit at the absurdity of this whole situation, Leonard waited for the woman to respond.

Karlita smiled sweetly and nodded at their introductions. Rein and Leonard. At least they were friendly. Leonard seemed to be eyeing Karlita, she noticed that he’d been interested in her cocktail dress, was it really so strange for him to see someone dressed like she was in a public setting?

Placing her hand behind her head, resting on her neck, Karlita giggled. This was probably a good time to introduce herself as well. “Me?” Said Karlita as she pointed to herself. Just from their eyes she could tell they were waiting for her own introduction.

“I am called, Karlita. My mother country is Spain, because I was born there. Rein, Leonard, it very naice to meet you.”

With her introduction done, Karlita walked over towards the duo. Remembering why they had most likely stopped her, Karlita looked at Rein.

“Rein, that is, photographia, no? I seen that you were taking photos of me, yes? Why not let me pose for you? Aha!”

Ah, so she’s Spanish - that explains, Reinald thought as Karlita was replying back to them. His eyebrows shot up when she came forward and… asked him to take more pictures of her? He was perfectly fine as long as he stayed behind the camera, but his mind couldn’t help thinking about how the situation was escalating to a whole new level of absurdity before his eyes.

“N-Nice to meet you too.” He stepped back on reflex as Karlita approached him. From the way she carried herself, this girl seemed to know how to utilize her good looks - she wasn’t shy about using her charm on others. Something Reinald couldn’t bring himself to do.

He wasn’t sure if Spaniards were this bubbly (in the weird way) like Karlita, and part of him wondered what she was trying to achieve here. Or maybe he was thinking too much, that she probably didn’t mean any harm - the moment when she showed them her flowers, it was obvious she didn’t know that they had already spotted her stealing flowers from the Garden when they were all still outside a moment ago.

…Not that it mattered now.

Pulling out the phone from his pocket once more, he let out an inaudible sigh before he spoke to the girl again, “I guess I don’t mind… but, here?” He glanced up at the door behind Karlita.

What an odd place to take pictures.

During the exchange between Rein and Karlita, Leonard had made a mental note that the young woman was Spanish, but beyond that he found himself far more curious about how she was acting, and also how Rein was reacting to said behaviour. One of Leonard’s 'tear drop' moments would likely have happened when she asked about Rein taking her photo too -- things had just gotten even more random... somehow.

It was a bit difficult to tell if Karlita was flirting with Rein, trying to redirect the topic away from her crime (talking about photos was probably not the best strategy, all things considered), or if she was just some oddball who wanted to be a model -- heck, it could have been all three. Anyway, Rein certainly seemed to be getting a bit awkward as she approached them, even if he did agree to take her picture. Rein was the shy type, perhaps?

Still, Leonard had also noticed that Karlita was quite friendly, with a presence that seemed to be mixing ditzy mannerisms with seductiveness. It sort of made it difficult to tell if she had her head on straight or not. Was she pretending to be weird, or was she oblivious about her charm? Then again, she might have been one of those types who was clever yet at the same time had their head in the clouds.

Leonard had planned on giving some snarky comment about how odd this whole situation was, but before he could say anything...

“Aha! Much love! Now… Where should I stand…”

With much glee, Karlita looked around for something expensive to pose near. With something elegant nearby, her beauty was sure to shine through. Perhaps it would be enough to distract them from her thievery and attempted breaking and entering.

Eyeing a vase of unique design, Karlita decided this would do. The swirling azure pattern. Matching her eyes it was sure to bring out a beautiful trait in Karlita. Fluffing up her hair, Karlita was ready to model, but noticed Leonard standing out of frame awkwardly. Surely he had come to the palace to create some new memories. Karlita gestured for him.

“Come, come, join me in photographia, it will be the fun!”

Reinald followed after Karlita in silence, the phone camera poised and ready before him as he watched the Spanish girl searching for her ideal picture-perfect spot. He was amused at her peppiness when she finally stopped before an antique vase as blue as her eyes; at the same time he had a bad feeling about all this, especially seeing how Karlita was beckoning at Leonard to get over to her side while she moved closer to the fragile artifact.

“Um,” he tried to call out to the lady. “Be careful - the vase…”

Leonard could tell from Rein’s words that they had the exact same concern going through their heads -- really, this was an accident waiting to happen, and everyone except Karlita seemed to realize it. Still, he only vaguely noticed Rein’s comment, because he was actually a bit too distracted by Karlita. Alright, sure, she was pretty, and her body language was complimenting it, but something about her calling out to him to come join her for a photo - those energetic blue eyes staring at him - had sort of... gotten to him.

"Just like back then..." Leonard said, thinking out loud, albeit rather quietly, "Rose..." he continued, still speaking under his breath, his silvery-blue eyes getting a bit melancholy.

Thankfully, Rein’s words telling her to be careful had come soon afterwards, meaning that Leonard was sort of pulled out of his little trance somewhat. He had not really been speaking loud enough for anyone to hear him anyway, and neither of them were all that close by now.

"Huh? Oh, I... guess...?" Leonard said in response to Karlita, replying late due to Rein speaking first and his own delays due to what was on his mind, feeling a bit out of it.

The tone in Leonard’s voice did not really indicate that he was particularly shy or anything, but rather that something was on his mind. It was also a fact that he had always thought taking photos was kind of awkward, though he was not exactly one of those people who thought that having your photo taken would suck out your soul or something.

Still carrying his duffel bag over one shoulder, Leonard casually walked over to where Karlita was, making sure not to touch the vase or anything. Not like he could have anyway, considering Karlita was right next to it and he would have needed to be sitting on it to come between them. He still had a really bad feeling about this, but he was sort of lost in his own world.

Reinald couldn’t catch what Leonard was saying - too much environmental noise around them bouncing off the glossy walls and floors - but no way he would miss the same look he had seen back on the train. Something about Karlita must have a similar effect as the locket the American had with him, which seemed to be evoking some sort of memory in the blond boy. A sad one.

Filing that curious bit away at the back of his mind for now, he raised the camera, watching the pair of Caucasian tourists he had encountered today getting into position through his mobile screen. Karlita was in high spirits, while Leonard was lost in his own thoughts. Sure, the blue in their eyes did go well with the cerulean vase, but other than that, the dissonance between them made the scene appear more comical than it already was.

“Ready?” he called out to the duo, waving at them with his free hand to get their attention. Then he brows furrowed. “...Can you two stand closer together? Leonard isn’t in the frame.”

“Hmh! Come, come!”

Karlita gestured towards Leonard to move closer, but it appeared that the blonde boy was in his own little world. Being the headstrong woman Karlita is, she moved herself closer to him, coiling her arms around his left shoulder, as if snuggling in onto him. Being so close to him, Karlita could feel his lean arm muscles, she was somewhat in heaven.

Afterall, it had been years since she last cuddled up close to someone.. Despite the tourists around the area, Karlita managed to block all the noise out from around her. She could hear her own breath, somehow, she could smell a sad scent coming from him. Tugging on his arm, she seemed to have broken him out of his trance as his legs gave way a little.

“Closer, yes?”

Leonard's moment of spacing out ended abruptly by Karlita's voice, and it was only at this point that he really noticed that the woman was now holding onto him, almost flirting like a girlfriend might. Perhaps because of how absurd the whole situation had been so far, alongside the melancholy he was just feeling, Leonard had only just now noticed that Karlita was taller than him, although it was hard to tell how much her heels played into that. It might have seemed like a trivial thing, but he always sort of found it annoying when women were taller than him -- sort of just cemented the fact that he was short.

"Uh... yeah..." Leonard responded, his voice still not really indicating he was shy, but just that his mind was throwing too many thoughts at him.

The current events were really messing with Leonard's head, and Karlita being attractive only made that more difficult. Trying to focus, his present mind state sort of zoned in and out of what was going on. He was also having a difficult time telling if Karlita was the pushy type of woman or if she was just really excited about the photo for some reason. The former was something he found annoying, while the latter was fun to be around. Either way, he tried to get his bearings a bit in order to avoid potential problems with the photo -- for whatever reason, it seemed to mean a lot to her. Really, Leonard was not all that accustomed to taking pictures in the first place, but there were a few exceptions.

"Hey," Leonard suddenly said, his mind quickly coming back to reality, "look out for the~"

♫ Final Fantasy XV OST - A Quick Pit Stop

Stringing Leonard along, Karlita turned to face Rein and smiled sweetly, but due to her heels, she managed to somehow roll her ankle. It was at this moment, the earth stood still. Poor Karlita, as she fumbled backwards, her heels did not aid her in the slightest. Completely losing her grip on Leonard, she backpedaled her way into the azure vase. With a high-pitched gasp, she quickly realized this was going to be bad.

“Eya!”

Lying on the ground, against a pile of broken porcelain and a rolled ankle to add to her misery. She looked up to the boys in pain.

“Mierda!”

Reinald was as surprised as the Caucasian pair - so much so that he tapped the button on reflex, jumping a little at the deafening sound of alarm thundering down the corridors, and a picture of the fall was automatically saved into his smartphone. Without giving the screen a second glance, he pocketed the mobile before rushing forward to give Karlita a hand.

“Hey! You… okay?”

“Nnn… Pain…”

Karlita winced as she struggled to get up, unable to put pressure on her ankle, she was unable to move around with ease.

"Shit!" Leonard cursed, "Sorry, I should've caught you..." he continued, leaning down on one knee.

The tone in Leonard’s voice implied he was legitimately beating himself up about the situation. His words were genuine, as if somehow he felt like he could have helped if he had not been spacing out, or at the very least believed he should have helped whether he was able to or not.

"How's this...?" Leonard asked, trying to keep his tone calm, gently placing a hand on her ankle to try and work out how bad it was.

“Argh! Leonard, it … It is, most painful.”

The pain could be seen plainly on her face, this was seriously going to leave a mark in the morning. Trying to bear the pain, Karlita attempted to stand on her own two feet, but staggered and fell back to the floor, landing on some of the broken pieces of the vase. Swiping some of the pieces out from under her, she looked up to the two boys, offering her their support.

“This, is no good, no good at all.”

The blaring alarms throughout the Palace was beginning to give Reinald a headache; it wouldn’t be long before this area started to swamp with running security and staff, putting them in an even stickier situation. They didn’t have much time to waste, not with Karlita’s sprained ankle and the luggage Leonard had with him.

Squatting down, he gave the Spanish girl his back. “Come on, I’ll carry you out of here.”

Karlita nodded, and used her small strength to climb upon his back, how kind of Rein. Resting upon him in the piggyback position, Karlita thanked him with all her heart. “Si, gracias, Rein.”

“You’re welcome,” was the curt reply, before Reinald glanced at the blond American. “Let’s go.”

"Ahrite, good..." Leonard said, glad that Rein had done that.

Leonard would have offered to carry her himself without the slightest hesitation if he had not been carrying most of his belongings with him over one shoulder currently, so he was relieved that Rein was apparently traveling without too much on him. That simplified the situation, but it was still a bad one.

Reinald stood up, making sure Karlita was secure on his back, and turned on his heels before he began to brisk down the hallways - with an extra weight behind him. While he didn’t seem like the athletic type (especially with this hoodie, which wasn’t exactly the right kind of clothing to show off one’s build), Reinald considered himself decent with sports. Besides, he didn’t have a choice.

"Uh," Leonard muttered, thinking out loud for only a moment, "I think this way." he signalled, pointing with his free hand, "There weren’t many people there, so we’ll get out easier." Leonard said, immediately putting his street smart nature to use as he ran alongside Rein.

Reinald nodded and went in the direction the American was pointing without another word, occasionally pausing to look around and make sure no one was pursuing them. At this moment, the young Chinese man had pushed away his usual shyness, allowing the quiet, steely wit underneath to shine as the trio made their way out of the Palace with the confused crowd.
~
Luxembourg Palace, Outskirts | April 14, 2012 (12:19 PM)

♫ Final Fantasy VIII OST - Balamb Garden

"... Shit," Leonard said, taking a breath as he put down his duffel bag for a moment and leaned forward a bit, "that was close..."

The group had managed to make it outside and even reach the outskirts leading to the streets, and had finally stopped to catch their breath. While there was undoubtedly still a lot of chaos going on back there, they had likely managed to escape any chance of being uncovered as the culprits, at least as long as there were no cameras in the building or something. Probably a bit too late to dwell on something like that now though.

"You guys okay...?" Leonard asked, turning his head.

Reinald stopped short behind the blond, then dropped to one knee to put Karlita down on the ground. Sliding herself off of Rein’s back, Karlita shuffled into a more comfortable position. Trying not to prod her ankle. Reinald then turned around to sit next to the Spanish girl.

“We’re fine… I think,” the Chinese boy said finally, then he glanced at Karlita.

Looking down at her ankle, glancing at Rein, then Leonard. Karlita was aware of the trouble she had caused, looking once again at her ankle, she made a sigh. Not one of relief but a touch of sadness.

“Leonard, Rein, I am… extaremary apologetic for what it is I have caused. Estoy tan retrasado…”

Karlita mumbled to herself in Spanish a little.

"Hey," Leonard responded after another breath, trying to keep his language simple, don’t worry."

“It’s okay.” Reinald waved away Karlita’s apology, regaining his usual demeanor. Looking down at her feet, he asked, “How’s your ankle? You might want to take off your shoes.” If she keeps those heels on any longer, the ankle would swell and make the pain ten times worse…

Nodding, Karlita smiled sweetly, a little bewildered by the two boys’ concern. “Gracias a vosotros dos.”

"Yeah," Leonard said in reaction to Karlita’s gratitude (at least, that was what he guessed 'gracias' meant), "no problem."

"Oh, there's a 'problem' alright, shortie!" a male voice said, speaking in English but with a French accent.

♫ Persona 3 OST - Master of Shadow

`Huh...? 'Shawty'...? That voice...` Leonard thought to himself, eyes turning in the direction of the one addressing him.

"I bet you thought you were really cool earlier, didn't you?" another familiar - to Leonard at least - male voice spoke aggressively.

Facing the direction of the voices, the Leonard and his new acquaintances would see men that were only familiar to - at least in as far as Leonard knew off the top of his head - the Brooklyn youth himself. Rein might have seen them depending on where he was when they ran off, but Karlita would never have seen these people before in her life. It was the three goons that Leonard had fought earlier in the morning -- he could hardly forget idiots this soon after making fools out of them.

It was very sudden, three menacing figures began to pester the group. Dressed like everyday thugs, they were indeed intimidating to Karlita. They looked like the kind of French thieves that’d rob an old grandmother, heck, steal candy from a baby.

Karlita had never seen them before, but they seemed to have some beef to pick with Leonard. Not wanting to aggravate the situation, Karlita whispered to Rein beside her.

“Uwa, whom they are? They are the frightening…”

Reinald had raised an eyebrow when he heard the voice, but he couldn’t see the face of the owner when he was seated down with Leonard towering over him and Karlita, blocking the view. He caught a glimpse of the speaker after the American turned around to face them, and now both of his eyebrows arched upwards.

There was something familiar about those rough-looking men… Ah, hadn’t he seen them just this morning?

“Y-Yeah,” he mumbled, agreeing with Karlita. “I don’t know… but seems like they’re acquainted with Leonard.” Then he shifted himself closer to the Spanish girl - not like he had anything on him that could protect them from those thugs, but it was better for the two of them to stick together in this situation.

"Eh, they're no big deal..." Leonard said, keeping his bravado up, "Just a couple'a old girlfriends, right laydies?"

Leonard did not like this situation at all, despite how he was behaving. Sure, he knew that these three were no match for him, but with Rein and Karlita here things could get... ugly -- certain cards were potentially taken out of the deck. He needed to plan his reaction to this situation carefully, so for now he would just keep acting snarky to distract them. At the same time, he was carefully analysing each of them.

"So, back ta get yer asses beaten again, huh?" Leonard said, making a smirk at the fellow whose nose he busted earlier -- the guy currently had bandaging around his face, "Nice look ya got there, buddie."

"Keep laughing, short shit." one of the thugs from earlier said, "You won't think you're so hot soon."

"Oh yeah?" Leonard responded casually, scratching the back of his head as he stretched slightly, "Honestly, I haven't missed ya guys at all... How'd ya even find me?" he asked, though he was fairly sure he had an idea of how -- he just hoped he was wrong, even though nothing else made sense to him.

"You talk too much, runt." a new male voice said.

`Shit,` Leonard thought to himself, turning slightly, `I knew it...` he reflected, his eyes widening for just a moment, only to narrow shortly afterwards. This was bad.

It was the only thing that made sense, but Leonard had wanted to imagine somehow his hunch had been wrong about it. Unfortunately, he was dead accurate, and it was as bad as he was picturing -- might have even been worse. Apparently, these assholes had been waiting for him, because while Leonard and his acquaintances were rushing outside and catching their breaths, they never even noticed that there were people hiding in every corner of this place. There was probably, what, more than thirty of these jackasses now? If Leonard had not been so damn out of it, he would have seen a trap like this before he had walked too far into it, but now...

The only thing Leonard could guess was that those goons he beat up earlier were not just any random thieves, but rather part of some organized group of crooks here in Paris. Leonard lived in a neighbourhood surrounded by the Mafia, so this sort of thing was hardly unusual for him, but he had sort of hoped that he could leave that part of his life back home in America while he was away -- apparently not. It seemed as though this sort of bullshit was drawn to him like a magnet.

"Get it now, runt?" the man who spoke previously - the one who seemed to be the leader - said calmly, "You're finished -- time for a reality check, kid."

`This doesn’t make any sense...` Leonard thought, `Those idiots would’ve had to move pretty quickly to set somethin’ like this up... I mean, me an' Rein haven’t even been here for an hour, yet even those three managed to show up...`

Leonard carefully analysed each of the thugs that had appeared, thinking the situation over. He could only suspect that either those goons had gotten on a train themselves shortly before he and Rein had, or they had actually been aware of the two youths’ location before they even got on their own train. It might have been possible that they discovered their location after the train trip, but it would have been a pretty close call for them to all get here in such a short amount of time -- that was, unless their base was actually fairly close by. At the very least, it was unrealistic to think they took a similar train to get here unless they knew where Leonard was before he got on the train.

"So, basically, ya guys cried to mum about me kickin' yer ass, right?" Leonard said, sighing slightly, putting on hand on his hip for a moment.

"You still talking big, short shit?" one of the thugs from earlier said, walking up to Leonard with a cocky expression on his face, figuring there was no way the kid planned to fight back in a situation this bad, "I think we need to fix that attitude of yours!" the man said, pulling his fist back and taking a swing at the Brooklyn kid.

Leonard was already gone by the time the fist would reach him though, just like last time. Really you would have thought these goons would have learned their lesson, but considering they had so many people now they were probably feeling overconfident. At any rate, Leonard had swiftly ducked the punch, a smirk on his face moments before it was about to touch him, and as he came back up he gave the man a powerful palm strike that would have resembled an uppercut in terms of arm motion, smashing up into his face from his chin and sending the thug flying backwards until he hit the ground. Some of the other ruffians looked shocked, more than anything because the kid actually still had so much spunk in him despite the situation. Did he have a death wish or something? Any regular person would have been cowering and begging for their life by now.

"Bon," the man who seemed like the boss said, "assez de cette -- utilisez vos têtes."

While the gang had been aware of Rein and Karlita when the three came running in, it was only at this point that they decided to take advantage of their presence here, since apparently being severely outnumbered was not enough incentive to make this Brooklyn punk behave himself. They had the favour of numbers and position, since they had appeared on the street around the trio. At this point some of the group which had appeared behind Rein and Karlita started to close in on them.

"I see you have some friends now, huh?" the man who had been the one giving orders out of the three thugs earlier in the morning said, "You might want to start cooperating before something happens to them..." he continued, looking at Karlita with a smirk, "The young lady, for example..."

Narrowing his eyes at the approaching goons from behind, Reinald pulled Karlita closer into an embrace. This looks bad. He couldn’t possibly force himself through these gangsters and outrun them with an injured girl at his side; it was also too late for him to ditch them and run off by himself. Unlike Leonard, he had nothing on him to stand a chance against the thugs. Out of the trio, only Leonard seemed like he could handle them on his own.

The only thing he could do now was not to provoke the gang and make the situation worse than it already was, then wait for an opening to escape (with the Spanish lady in tow).

“Take off your shoes - and quickly,” he urged Karlita in a low voice.

The men circling the three were ready to pounce at the drop of the hat. Rein was holding Karlita close in some kind of embrace. Becoming nervous, scared, Karlita started to jitter in her own fear. Being urged to take off her shoes, Karlita complied. This kind of situation was something completely out of her own depth. Slipping her heels off, she could feel the pain in her ankle once again.

Lowering her voice she whispered to Rein.

“We… We’ll…” Unable to form a sentence, Karlita held herself closer to Rein.

"Now don't you two go getting any stupid ideas, yeah?" one of the thugs coming up behind Rein and Karlita said, admittedly eyeing Karlita a bit at this point with a nasty look on his face. His expression did not seem to imply that he heard what Rein said though, or Karlita's response, so he was mostly just warning them without knowledge that the Chinese dude was possibly up to something.

"They aren't my friends..." Leonard said abruptly, and rather bluntly.

♫ Suikoden II OST - Reminiscence

"What did you say, shortie...?" the guy who had led the three Leonard beat up earlier said.

"I said I don't know 'em..." Leonard said simply, "They just ran into me, so it's not like we're 'friends' or somethin'..."

Leonard really had no idea how effective his words would be on the thugs, nor did he know whether or not Rein and Karlita would think he genuinely did not care about them, but at this point it was the only thing he could think of saying. The fact of the matter was, these two were only in this mess because they were near him, and Leonard did not want to be the cause of their pain. It was true that what he was saying was at least partially true, since he really could not say he knew either of them very well, but the part of him acting indifferent towards them was still a bluff -- the coldness in his voice might not have shown that though.

`All that time,` Leonard thought to himself, `you suffered 'cause I couldn't just spit it out... It's not happenin' again -- my hesitation won’t hurt someone else...`

It was just something about who Leonard was -- he tended to be too empathetic for his own good most of the time. Throughout his life, he would take the whole weight of a burden that was meant for multiple people, carrying it on his shoulders alone, and he often put his own life on the line without hesitating to ensure the safety of total strangers. Leonard was strong; in fact, it was likely that very few people had inner strength that really compared to him. He was the type of person who would have died for what he believed in without hesitating, especially when all he had to lose was his life. Whether that was a virtue or madness was up to the observer to decide, but in all frankness Leonard could not care less how people interpreted it.

There was nothing strong about survival -- anyone could survive, or get through a bad life, but it took real strength to actually stand up and shine a light in the darkness. It took courage and fortitude to do the right thing and to risk one’s own life, and it took strength to overcome the world. Leonard was nothing special -- he was just a street punk from America, not some superhero. Still, inside of him was a will of pure strength. He was not the type of weakling who got caught in the bystander effect, or someone who only did something if it benefitted them. He sure as hell was not the type to justify not doing what he knew was right with some sort of weak comment about how he was 'only human'.

"Who gives a shit, punk?" the boss of the group said, his goons still closing in on the trio slowly, "Even if that wasn't a bluff, we can still take whatever these two have on them as well."

Any of the thugs that were not looking at Karlita were mostly distracted by Leonard -- the Brooklyn youth seemingly had a death wish and had shown no real intentions of backing down just because he was severely outnumbered. His bravado was really doing their heads in a bit, since they could not really work out if he was courageous or just stupid.

"That's right!" one of the thugs closing in behind Rein and Karlita said, not paying attention to what they were doing because he was too busy checking Karlita out, "Why don't you come over here, girlie?"

How despicable. Grown men, using such vulgar tactics on the poor Spaniard princess. Turning her head, Karlita narrowed her brow and cursed him in Spanish under her breath.

"Tch," Leonard scoffed as he turned his face slightly, "leave her the fuck outta this, asshole!"

In the next moment, a punch had cleanly hit Leonard across the face. At this point, those of the gang who were not eyeing Karlita were smirking as the Brooklyn punk got clobbered.

"Ugh!" Leonard cursed, glaring back at the thug who hit him as he got his bearings again, feeling himself get a bit disorientated as he slightly got sluggish for a moment, looking for a chance to retaliate. At this point, his duffel bag was still within reach.

Seeing Leonard be struck before her own eyes, Karlita moved on her own before thinking.

“Leonard! No!”

Swiftly pushing from Rein’s close protection, she lifted the closest object from the ground near her, to use as a throwing tool. The closest item in proximity was her own heels, so she ripped one off the ground and launched it at one of the assailants. Although she did manage to strike one of the men in the head, it wasn’t the man whom struck Leonard, nor the boss of the gang, who swiftly moved to the side. The force of Karlita’s throw knocked her off balance, putting too much pressure on her ankle, she fell to the ground, face first, exposing the underside of her dress.

"Patron!" the thug who had previously hit Leonard called out, but it was too late.

"Argh!" the gang leader yelled, one of Leonard's daggers stabbed into his upper leg.

"Don't move!" Leonard called out, his other dagger held up against the throat of the man leading the gang.

While the turn of events would make any sane person cringe, Reinald knew he didn’t have the time to spare for an internal facepalm at the ridiculous development. He didn’t even bat an eyelid at the exposed panties like the thugs were (it was just a piece of clothing, anyway).

Without wasting another second, he picked up the fallen Karlita in one swoop and bolted past the gangsters before they could react, running as far away as he could manage with the Spanish lady in his arms.

Karlita's distraction had provided Leonard with the opening he was looking for. As far as he was concerned, it was the most ideal rule in a situation like this -- aim for the leader. Thankfully, the boss had been standing in front of most of his goons, likely because of how blatantly obvious it was that the situation was in his favour, so the only person Leonard had to get passed was the thug who punched him. Considering that idiot had turned around to see Karlita's shoe hit the guy behind his boss, Leonard had swiftly dashed passed him the instant the thug looked away.

By the time anyone had really figured out what was going on in the commotion, Leonard had stabbed the boss, who was too distracted from dodging Karlita's shoe and seeing it hit his flunky. The gang leader had only just noticed Leonard approaching with enough time to attempt a haphazard punch that the blonde swiftly dodged around before stabbing him.

That was all the time Leonard had needed. At this point, the entire gang had turned to see the sight of their boss in pain from the blade through his leg, and Leonard standing behind him with a dagger firmly placed at his throat. Leonard could effortlessly have sliced this man's throat open by now if he had wanted to, so it was actually something akin to an act of mercy that their leader was even still alive. Leonard telling them all not to move as he held their leader’s life in his hands had meant that no one could really do anything as Rein ran past.

"Patron!" one of the other thugs said, some of them starting to close in on Leonard.

"I said 'don't' fuckin' 'move'!" Leonard swore, the look in his eyes dead serious as the blade cut into the leader’s neck - only slightly - and drew blood, "Any of you assholes make a move - an' I mean one fuckin' move - an' he's dead!" Leonard warned, and the look on his eyes made it clear that he was not bluffing.

The thugs all stopped dead in their tracks -- they could tell Leonard was serious. They all sort of just stood there, none of them really ready to risk making a move and potentially watching the boss get his throat slit open. The look in their leader’s eyes made it obvious that the boss thought he was about to die if they did anything suspicious.

To be perfectly honest, the boss was right.
~
Somewhere outside Luxembourg Palace | April 14, 2012 (12:32 PM)

♫ Final Fantasy VIII OST - Fear

Reinald had run for a short distance with Karlita in his arms. Glancing over his shoulder to see that no one was chasing after them, it only affirmed his deduction: those gangsters real target was only Leonard, and him alone. Reinald and this girl happened to be there for those thugs to use as makeshift hostages to threaten the American boy.

He slowed down to a jog before he stopped to let Karlita down. Not because he was that tired from all the running and carrying her around, but he was beginning to feel awkward with a girl in a bridal carry pose in public. Maybe it wasn’t much of a big deal here - it’s the City of Love after all - but it just weirded him out.

“Can you walk?” he asked, still holding onto her to support her.

Karlita shook her head, using Rein for support. The fall did a number on her already strained ankle. Trying to rest it completely on the ground only caused Karlita more pain, wincing with a small girlish cry of agony. Thinking herself as just dead weight she proposed an idea to Rein, her noble knight.

“Rein, leave me. Run back, now!”

Reinald looked into Karlita’s eyes for a moment before he shook his head. “You want me to leave you alone here, when you can’t walk on your own without me to support you? Besides, even if I go back, I’ll only be a dead weight to Leonard.”

Running a free hand through his hair, he sighed. “I’m not a fighter like him. He won’t be able to fend them off if I’m there to distract him.”

Karlita lowered her head. She didn’t know what to do in such a dangerous situation. It was such an extreme opposite to her usual carefree life. How on earth did this happen? A spiraling fall of danger, all because she wanted to take a photo with someone. Lifting her head back up, she moved strands of hair from her face, too see Rein’s eyes.

♫ Final Fantasy VIII OST - Tell Me

“I… I don’t know… Leonard… He is our amigo, no? If we can’t help him…”

Placing her hands together, Karlita looked to the sky.

“Dios esté con él.” She recited these words aloud at least three times. Taking a deep breath in, Karlita cracked a nervous smile. Pointing to an extravagant bar, Karlita urged Rein to take her there. It might seem a out of the blue, but there was a method to her madness.

“Rein, take me there. To the place called ‘Cadelori’. I’ll order a bottle of wine for trey, yes?”

Reinald’s gaze followed in the direction where Karlita was pointing. “Good idea,” he murmured, leading her towards the bar slowly to minimize the strain on her swollen ankle.

As they walked, his mind tried to think of a way around the situation. “...I’ll get you to the bar, so you’ll be safe in public sight, for the time being. Then I’ll go back to check if the coast is clear and bring Leonard over.”
~
Extravagant Restaurant | April 14, 2012 (12:37 PM)

♫ God Eater 2: Rage Burst - An Extravagant Moment

Upon entering the bar, the odd pair was greeted by the soothing background music in harmony with the dimly-lit interior, with polished floor, high tables and smartly dressed waiters. One of them walked up to them to show them to an empty table, but not without a raised eyebrow at Karlita’s shoeless feet.

Once they were seated and given the menu, the waiter stayed at their table with his notepad and paper poised ready to take their orders. Karlita attempted to use some French phrases but failed horribly without her handy translation book, lost during the rush of course. The waiter rolled his eyes, explaining how they could simply just order in English.

“Zook, Madame Zinderella, if you can’t zpeak ze Francias, don’t try. Zust order in ze language we can both understand. Engleesh, pleeze.”

Nervously nodding, Karlita complied, choosing some of the most expensive items on the menu, after all, her lovely friend Bonaparte would receive this I.O.U. Just another one of those perks to an all expenses paid trip.

“Please, lunch special for trey. And the biggest wine you have, yes?”

“Is zat all?” was the waiter’s bored reply as he scribbled down her order. “Alzo,” he continued, glancing at Reinald with furrowed brows. “Go get new zooez for your Zinderella girlfriend.” With that, he left to pass the order to the kitchen staff.

Reinald, embarrassed at being seen as a couple with a girl he met only just today, gave it a couple of minutes after the waiter left before he stood up. “I… I’ll go out and take a look. You can just stay here until I get Leonard back.”

And he breezed out of the bar, not without a glare at the waiter who had just served them as he passed by him.

Karlita watched Rein walk away, hoping that he would find Leonard safe, unharmed from those horrible thugs.
~
Somewhere outside Luxembourg Palace | April 14, 2012 (12:48 PM)

♫ Final Fantasy VIII OST - Fear

Retracing his steps back to the street where they had left Leonard behind, Reinald thought about the two foreigners he had just met today. Something about them didn't feel right to the Chinese man - for one, they didn't seem like ordinary tourists coming to Paris just for a holiday.

At least for the Leonard boy, it was pretty obvious that he came here for a different purpose than mere sightseeing. Who would blatantly arm themselves with knives like that on a normal vacation trip? There was also the longing expression he had when he was looking at his locket, and when Karlita waved him over to take pictures together.

As for the Spanish girl, even with her seemingly scatterbrained personality, was she truly an airhead, or there were something more beneath all that ‘act’? Like Reinald, she also broke out of her ditziness when she pleaded him to go after Leonard after he got her out of the gangsters’ clutches…

He was pulled out of his own world when he heard someone calling out to him. Looking around, his eyes fell on the familiar statue of Leonard.

♫ Final Fantasy VIII OST - My Mind

"Oh, hey..." Leonard called out, his duffel bag over his shoulder as usual and for the most part back to his laid-back self, having just stepped out of one of the alleys that lead back to the street where the skirmish had happened, "... where's Karlita...?"

While part of Leonard wanted to ask Rein if he was actually here looking for him, his biggest priority right now was to make sure that their third companion was safe. After all, she probably was still unable to walk given the injury. Nevertheless, the thought that they were actually concerned enough to come back felt nice -- Leonard had more or less just expected he would never seen them again, considering they were basically strangers. Sure, Leonard had put his neck out for them just now, but it would hardly be the first time someone had forgotten him shortly after he more or less saved their life. It was also 'technically' his fault they were in trouble, if he could really be blamed for defending himself from thugs.

“She’s alright,” Reinald replied, then turning around to lead the way. “In fact, this has made her hungry enough to order three sets of special lunch to go with a big bottle of wine.” Then he let out a chuckle. “Three sets for each of us, not just for herself.”

"Oh yeah?" Leonard responded, smirking. He was ready to follow Rein's lead to wherever Karlita was waiting, though he seemed relaxed, "I can't say I've ever had wine before, but lunch sounds good ta me. I don’t think we’ll be seein' those idiots again," he pointed out, "Let's go."
~
Extravagant Restaurant | April 14, 2012 (12:57 PM)


Karlita checked her ankle. It was swollen, the blood had already begun to rise to the surface of her skin. Pressing her fingers against her ankle, Karlita winced in pain. She had dealt with some injuries in her work before, so this would be something simple.

Reaching inside her dress she revealed her clutch, similar to how a magician pulls a rabbit out of their hat or a coin from behind a person's ear.

Opening it up, some of the flowers had been crinkled, one of the more beautiful lilies was ruined, but the stem could still be used. Now, where to start. While the table next to her wasn’t paying attention, she slipped some of their water into her empty wine glass. Karlita then laid out her napkin before her, stripping some of the pedals she placed them along the smooth ivory material. Squeezing what was left of the nectar in the lilies she had collected into the water, she mixed some of the pedals in a specific order.

Dipping the napkin in the mixture, she scooped up some of the flora, quickly wrapping it around her bruised ankle. Karlita was lucky that the napkin was long enough to wrap completely around and still have room to be tied together. But being in a such a high-class area, they must only use the top quality stock.

From attending to her ankle Karlita, whipped up from the low ground to see Leonard and Rein outside. Raising her hand high into the air, Karlita chirped happily when she spotted them.

“Ore! Ova here! Leonard! Rein!”

Karlita beckoned the duo over as she waved to them happily.

♫ God Eater 2: Rage Burst - An Extravagant Moment

"Hey." Leonard said with a smile as he noticed Karlita was clearly excited to see he was, well, alive. He followed Rein in as the Chinese fellow entered the restaurant and walked over to her, "I heard you ordered lunch -- what're we eatin'?" he asked.

“The lunch special, hopefully it’ll be very tasty! It was moi expesciano! … Oh! A big bottle of wine too!”

Karlita excitingly pointed to the wine, offering to pour some for the boys.

Reinald gave the Spanish girl a quick smile as acknowledgement, before he took his seat across her. His attention then shifted to the wine Karlita was pointing to.

“I think I’ll do that,” he said, picking up the bottle and noticing that the cap’s seal had already been removed. He turned the bottle around to look at the label. A Chateau Margaux 1787. He was amused when she had ordered the costliest food on the menu, but this bottle here was the real money bomb. If only these two know the story behind this fragile bottle.

Alright, she did dress like a rich lady of sorts, but could she actually afford this over-the-top lunch before them? Unless… His mind went to the letter still hidden in his pocket as he began to pour three glasses of deep-red liquor, not without pausing for a second at how Karlita’s glass wasn’t dry like the boys’. A quick glance below the table, he permitted himself a knowing smile before he filled her glass with the wine.

`'Expensiano'...?` Leonard thought to himself, `'Expensive'...? Well, with how she's dressed... although...`

Though Leonard had made a mental note about the fact that Karlita had apparently already started going through the wine, his eyes caught Rein looking under the table for a moment. Under normal circumstances, his curiosity would have caused him to take a look too, but from where he was it blatantly looked like Rein was checking Karlita's legs out. Alright, she was attractive -- fair enough. Still, until this point the Chinese dude had seemed like a fairly shy and reserved type, so that seemed a bit too bold to be what it looked like; however, the quiet types were often the ones you had to be careful of. Leonard likely would have realized it was in correlation to the missing wine, but he was a lot more concerned about how Karlita planned to pay for everything. Still, he considered that there might be some hidden implication.

"I've never had wine before, actually..." Leonard said casually, not really sounding like he had an issue with her drinking but more that it was just foreign to him personally, "Who's payin' though? You rich or somethin'...?" he asked as he took a seat as well.

Karlita cocked her head to the side and laughed.

“Ahaha! Well, not really, whilst I make enough to live, and occasionally go out. I am no special rich lady. Infact! Today I am meeting with very very mucho grande benefactor! They’re very rich, so they’ll take care of it all for me! Ahaha.”

`'Today'...? 'Benefactor'...? 'Very rich'...?` Leonard contemplated, raising an eyebrow slightly, `No way... I had a feeling, but still...`

Part of him wanted to shrug off what he was hearing, assuming it was some sort of coincidence, but unfortunately for Leonard he had two little problems with doing this. Firstly, he was way too inquisitive for his own good sometimes. Secondly, he tended to think that people who assumed things were a coincidence were short-sighted. Just the fact that Karlita was ordering something so expensive, and seemingly so casually, told him she was hardly ordinary. This much had been worked out even before she mentioned this 'benefactor', but the whole situation made the reason he was here come back to the surface of his mind again even before he spoke.

Now that she had said this much...

"You wouldn't be here ta meet that 'Bonaparte' guy too, right...?" Leonard said, sort of just coming right out about it honestly.

Slamming her hands down on the table in surprise, Karlita rocked in forward in her chair, leaning closer to Leonard. Her blue eyes widening. The impact from her fists rocked the crockery placed around, shaking the wine in their glasses. Without meaning to, she blurted out her surprise in Spanish. Which made some heads turn in their direction.

“¡De ninguna manera! Bonneparte también está deseando conocerte?”

Shaking her head Karlita, rocked back in her seat. Digging in her clutch, Karlita brought a scrunched up letter. Dusting off some of the flora stuck to it, she showed Leonard.

“Escuse me, you also? A letter right? Is it written in Spanish no?”

Karlita giggled to herself and made a high pitched squeal.

“Eeeee! Ehehe! Leonard! Why did you not say your mother tongue was from Spania!”

`Are you serious...?` Leonard thought. Of all the people who could have been invited, it was someone he had been waltzing around with. Her words were an indication, but once the letter was out there was no denying it.

"Uh," Leonard said awkwardly, mostly sure he knew what she was saying, "mine's in English, but... yeah, it's in my bag..." he said.

`So... she has a wish too then...?` Leonard contemplated.

“Oh wow! Then Mr. Bon is part Espaniola part English, strange! Moi strange indeed!”

Karlita sipped her wine, very intrigued with this new discovery.

Reinald hadn’t spoke a word while his two Caucasian companions were having a rather interesting conversation, sipping a little of his wine before setting the glass down on the table. The liquid filled his mouth and throat with a rich flavor - it truly lived up to its extravagant reputation.

He was content with listening to them quietly, not wanting to interrupt the air of excitement between those two. Besides, it was a good way to take his mind off the attention they were getting from the waiters and other diners in the bar at Karlita's outburst.

...Interesting. To think that he would encounter not just one, but two of the many invited guests to this ‘Bonaparte’ person’s gathering upon his arrival here. An all-expense paid trip, a ‘promise’ that the invitee's wish could be granted…

It was all too good to be true. Too suspicious to ignore.

An offer that all of them would have to pay dearly for their deepest, darkest desire. For something they shouldn’t have it granted, regardless of their reasons - or secrets they might be hiding.

However, there was someone - something - out there pulling the strings... To mislead them, the ignorant fools, to a certain end that none of them would have wished for.

It was laughable for a scientific thinker like him to believe in fate and destiny, but he knew very well there were still things out there in this world that could not be explained with hard logic. Anything could be possible. Just like this meeting with these two - it was too much of a coincidence to be a mere ‘coincidence’.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke the atmosphere around the three odd tourists. His nose tickled at the nice aroma of food, but the smell turned a little sour when the familiar bored voice spoke.

“Ze lunch zets are ’ere. Moove your cupz to one zide.” A pause. “...Pleeze.”

"Uh," Leonard muttered, being pulled out of his own introspective thoughts regarding the situation, "right..." he said, moving the full glass of wine Rein had poured him out of the way.

It was certainly a ‘special’ lunch, enough to surprise the trio with three full lobsters soaked in sauce américaine laid down in the middle of a huge plate respectively. It also came with a mysterious side dish wrapped in cabbage secured by a piece of bacon around its center. Reinald could pick up a slight but sharp smell - some kind of spice - from the bits of gold-brown sauce decorated around the plate.

Karlita’s bloodhound nose began to take in the strong aroma from the meal. Placing her hands on her cheeks she internally squealed at the sight.

“Well, as we say back home, cómete tu corazón.”

Karlita smiled as she looked at Leonard, then Rein. Topping up her glass of wine which had mysteriously been full only a moment ago.

Reinald returned her smile with his own, raising his still-full glass slightly before he spoke, a hint of amusement in his tone, “Or, as we’d say back from my home, yam seng.” Then he took another sip, swallowing the alcohol down with the hidden meaning in his words.

Leonard gave a smile too in response to Karlita's words, noticing the attitude behind Rein's following statement but not really contemplating it. He could have thought deeper into all the things these two had been saying today, and normally he likely would have, but right now Leonard was content to just enjoy this one instant -- for all he knew, it could be one of his last. He slightly raised the glass of wine that he had not even committed himself to drinking yet, just to share the moment.
~
Luxembourg Palace, Outskirts | April 14, 2012 (12:29 PM)

♫ Cowboy Bebop OST - Words That We Couldn't Say

Leonard's eyes were intense as he held the life of the thug leader in his hands, watching each of the goons for the smallest indication of them trying anything. He had more or less suspected that firearms were illegal in Paris, but it was still entirely possible one of these assholes had a gun on them, and he had no intentions of even giving them a chance to draw it.

"All of ya," Leonard ordered, the dagger in his hand still faintly cutting into the man's neck, "get lost -- now!"

The thugs might not have been incredibly bright, but they realized that the boss would die of blood loss from that leg wound if he was not treated eventually, so the longer they stood there waiting the worse the situation got. Still, there was no mistaking the look in those silvery-blue eyes -- Leonard would cut his throat without hesitation if they tried anything. Even if the Caucasian boy did not seem like the murderous type, those eyes of his were powerful enough to send chills through the thugs.

"Hey, I said fuck off!" Leonard swore, "Don't let me catch any of ya again, got it!? I won't go easy next time! I've got more important shit ta do than this! Until I see this 'Bonaparte' guy, I can't die!"

Some of the thugs seemed positively spooked by what Leonard had just said, while some of the others seemed to be having a hard time believing it. Most of them had at least heard the rumours about a group of individuals being invited to Paris by the famous 'Methuselah of Paris'. Was this kid really one of them? It might have explained why someone who looked like a street rat could afford to come here. Even just imagining what that 'vampire' might do to them if they had hurt one of his guests was enough to give some of them nightmares. After all, there were many who believed Monsieur Bonaparte could see everything in Paris. One by one the gang started to back off, not really making any strange movements, as they left the alley. At this point, they could just hope the boss would survive. This would be the last time they even thought of bothering this kid.

"A-Are," the leader said, "you... going to... k-kill me...?" the man said, speaking slowly and as calmly as he could, to not provoke the boy into slicing through him.

"Only if yer bitches do somethin' stupid..." Leonard said bluntly.

Eventually, they were the only ones left on the street...

"You've got a phone, right...?" Leonard asked the man as he was dressing his wound with a torn part of the man's coat.

Shortly after the thugs had all left, Leonard told the man he would dress the wound to stop his bleeding, but if the thug made any sort of sudden movements he would cut his throat open without hesitating. Honestly, with the wound Leonard had given him the man would not even be able to walk much less fight him -- the gang leader was at his mercy, and had agreed instantly. Really, he was grateful just to be alive.

"Y-Yeah..." the man replied.

"Ahrite then," Leonard said, "call fer help once I'm gone..."

The gang leader nodded, just surprised at how merciful this boy was. If he called someone, they would be able to move him, and make sure he got better treatment. Honestly, the kid could have just walked off without even bothering to make sure he had a way to get help, yet he was actually showing him enough concern to ask if he had a phone? The thug was honestly in awe of this kind soul.

"Are you... really here to see Bonaparte...?" the man asked.

Leonard smiled, but somehow it was a sad smile; in fact, he almost seemed on the verge of tears...

The young man from Brooklyn was not some naïve little kid -- he knew that he was putting his life on the line coming here. There were too many 'coincidences' going on, too many things this 'Methuselah of Paris' knew that he seemingly should not have known, and too many questions that needed answers. Leonard had come to Paris ready to gamble his life - as short as it had been so far, given that he was a mere nineteen years old - without the slightest hesitation if it meant there was even a chance (that letter had only said there was a 'chance', after all) that his wish could be granted.

"Yeah," Leonard replied, his eyes determined, "there's somethin' I need ta do, an' I'm ready ta die fer the chance."
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Shoryu Magami 𝔊𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔄𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫

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Chapter 2: The Chateau de Sophie
~
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♫ Naoki Urasawa's Monster OST - Close Your Eyes

A figure stood in the centre of a chamber, drinking from a glass. As he did, he was staring at a gorgeously crafted portrait of a beautiful young woman who had long and wavy light golden blonde hair, deep silver-tinted blue eyes, and healthily pale skin. She was clearly Caucasian, and was wearing a long white dress. The setting of the portrait was a shore, gazing out into the ocean. The wind seemed to be blowing against her blonde curls. The man simply stood in silence, calmly looking at the painting.

Things were about to move forward. Would it be the end, or perhaps a new beginning?

"I thought I might find you here..." another man spoke, "Am I interrupting...?"

"No, it's fine Albert..." the initial man replied calmly, "By all means, join me."

The second man entered the room and walked over to the first, the two now looking at the portrait. The first man poured his companion a drink, filling a second glass with wine from a large bottle on the table next to him, not really being the type to drink more than a single glass anyway -- that was assuming he drank at all.

"Is this... alright...?" the second man questioned, as if suggesting that it was not his place, but the initial figure simply smiled with a melancholy look on his face, holding out his hand as if to say 'think nothing of it, it's fine'. The second man said nothing further, feeling nothing but the utmost honour.

"Five hours from now... it all begins..." the first man spoke, causing the second to slowly nod his head, "Do you have any reservations...?" the first questioned, apparently genuine.

"No..." the second man replied earnestly, "I will follow you in whichever path you choose."

"Then let us walk this purgatory until the bitter end..." the first man spoke with a poetic tone.
~

Hotel, Inside | April 14, 2012 (02:13 PM)

♫ Baccano! OST - Manhattan Bridge ni Kakeru Yume

`I guess she didn't understand what I meant...` Sven thought as the woman - who introduced herself as 'Sonya' - explained that it was social conventions that concerned her.

Sven had used the words 'widely accepted' in order to emphasize that most - not all, obviously - people in France accepted public breastfeeding, but apparently that part of what he said went over her head. It was possible that she simply did not hear him clearly though -- she seemed kind of on edge; in fact, she seemed really on edge. It was not that Sven could inherently read her mind or anything, but a combination of how cautious she was being around him together with her apparent intentions not to use the escort made it clear to him that this young woman had a difficult time trusting people -- there was no other reason he could think of for why she would insist on walking to the estate, especially alone when she was already basically lost. Though, in all fairness, Sven had no plans to use the escort either, but he planned to get a taxi.

While he gave no particular visual indication of it, Sven did make a mental note about how cautious Sonya was clearly acting. With the way she looked almost like a beggar - together with what he could vaguely make out as bruises, alongside her seemingly timid aura - it might have been safe to assume that she was afraid of being attacked. Certainly, she had made enough of a point about not wanting to anger people over her breastfeeding, and Sven got the impression this had more to do with simply wanting to be polite. Generally speaking, people did not seem this fearful if all they wanted to do was show decent manners.

Regarding Dmitri's nickname, it had been something of a coincidence that he knew about it. While information was something of a specialty of Sven's, he was not exactly dedicated to research into Russian culture or anything, so it had merely been something he picked up as a bit of side info to something else he was looking into, and thanks to his memory he had retained it. An amusing little coincidence, which was presumably all it could be.

Before Sven could say anything, intending to comment on the whole 'breastfeeding is widely accepted' misunderstanding, Dmitri hurt himself and then Sonya lost grip of her belongings. As she was getting everything together and trying to calm down the baby, her son pulled on her hair and the woman seemed to become more distressed than previously. Sven did not give it much of a reaction, and just maintained his friendly atmosphere as Sonya apologized to him. For the most part, the expression on the Eurasian man's face indicated that she had nothing to say sorry for, since it was perfectly understandable. Turning around, he put the envelope back in his bag, but pulled out his laptop afterwards, turning it on. A few moments after the machine activated, Sven input a password to access the main screen.

"It's fine, and you don't need to worry about breastfeeding here." Sven pointed out as the laptop was still starting up, "Sure, some people likely have an issue, but the majority of people in this country accept it; I mean, it's only natural, right?"

Thinking for just a few moments, Sven was in his own world for a couple of seconds. He shook his head as he looked at the laptop, and then continued speaking.

"If you can't read French, will you be alright walking there...?" Sven asked calmly.
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Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Shadow007
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Shadow007 Still a massive dork.

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Itzal Albescu Fuji|NPCs

Collab between: @Shadow007 and @Shoryu Magami

Monsieur Bonaparte’s Estate | April 14, 2012

♫ Final Fantasy IX OST - Freya's Theme

After what seemed to be a short car ride over considering that Itzal was speaking to Paula about what sort of dishes he had created before and what other dishes he was familiar about making, he was surprised to see that a few hours had actually passed when they arrived at the front gate. “Wow… I guess it is true what they say… “Time flies when you’re having fun.” He said with a laugh after he had glanced at his phone.

"Yeah, it felt a lot quicker than the other times I've come here." Paula said with a smile, holding out her cell phone and checking the time herself. It was almost midday, which meant that she was late under normal circumstances, but today was the exception. "We just arrived, so I'll be in there soon." Paula said in English while texting. During the trip, she had occasionally been sending texts back and forth to the bartender she mentioned earlier.

The front gates were open, though whether it was because Monsieur Bonaparte was expecting guests or simply because they were always open during the day was anyone’s guess. Since Itzal had luggage, Paula signalled for the driver to go into the estate, and you could actually see the anticipation on the man’s face due to knowing whose property he was entering. After a short drive, passing through a garden, they were finally in front of the main building, Chateau de Sophie. The fabled residence was more like a small castle than a mansion, and had been the enigmatic celebrity’s home for the last two decades. Only those who he invited were allowed to come to the private residence that was virtually independent from Parisian jurisdiction, and many considered it a great honour to even be there.

"Thanks." Paula said, handing the driver his money and opening the door, exiting the vehicle. Looking at the chateau, she took in a breath of fresh air.

Itzal sighed slightly, taking in the sight of the chateau, he could feel his heart racing with anticipation as he gazed over it. “Wow… I can’t believe I’m actually here.” He admitted with a slight, almost gleeful laugh. “I never imagined that I’d actually visit a real chateau.” He had heard about them from his father when he was a young boy, but seeing the real thing right in front of you was a whole other experience. “I can’t wait to see the kitchens in this place!” He said, his enthusiasm growing with each breath he took.

Paula smiled at Itzal's excitement, but before she could say anything her cell phone made another noise, "Good to hear. You know where to find me." Paula said, clearly reading out loud again in English, only for some reason Itzal could understand her perfectly now.

Itzal did a double take as he looked over at Paula, trying not to gape at what he had just heard. Did she not usually talk out loud with her texts in English? Was he somehow understanding English? He frowned deeply, feeling a bit lightheaded, wondering if he should bring this up or not, he was leaning towards not telling her about the fact that he had understood what she had said. He did not want to sound like he was eavesdropping, but… What if it happened again?

“Ah…” He began awkwardly. “Did… I just hear that correctly?”

`Huh…? What…?` Paula thought to herself.

A confused look came across Paula's face as Itzal questioned what she had just said. What did he mean by that? Was Itzal saying that he could understand that line of English better than all the other times she was texting Simon, or was he saying she slipped up and speak in her native tongue without noticing it? She had been speaking English alongside French for as long as she could remember, and even if she was a scatterbrain at times she had generally never made that sort of slip up.

"I... thought I said it in English..." Paula said, honestly sounding confused, “Did I say that in French...?” she asked, speaking in French again.

Itzal covered his mouth with a hand, something felt extremely off about this whole concept, it made him feel sick to his stomach. He was wondering if he should just try to push this to the back of his mind, that it was nothing to worry about. He must have just misheard her. Perhaps the drive had tired him out, there had to be some logical explanation for what had just occurred. He liked to believe there was some logic behind everything that happened in the universe and this was no different. He laughed weakly, “Ah… No… It’s nothing!” He said quickly, trying to not be bothered by fact that it seemed that logic had basically been thrown out the window. Without having an explanation for this, how could he even address the issue to Paula? It was almost like he had no choice but to ignore it for now.

"Oh, okay..." Paula replied, her usual friendly expression on her face, even if she was a bit confused, "Come on." she said, smiling and leading the way.

Chateau de Sophie, Lobby | April 14, 2012

♫ Cowboy Bebop OST - Fingers

Soon enough, Itzal and Paula had gone through the large front door and were in what could best have been described as the lobby of the chateau; however, it was far from a simple foyer. The entrance hall was more like a giant lounge room than anything else -- there was a variety of seating areas and tables to talk, eat, or play games, a pool table, a piano, et cetera. This great room could easily have served as an entertainment area or party room for a large group of guests without leaving anyone feeling even remotely crowded.

As Itzal followed Paula, he might have noticed a very attractive young woman who was seated at the piano in the lobby, playing casually -- the young woman hardly seemed to be putting much effort into the piece currently, but it was beautiful regardless. Though Itzal could barely make her out from the angle, he would still be able to see her hair was a dark strawberry blonde, which was both long (roughly down to the her waist) and wavy. A pale red winter overcoat with dark red trim and collar was worn over whatever she might have been wearing, and went down virtually to her feet.

"Hey," Paula whispered to Itzal, "that's Anna!" she continued, trying to keep quiet.

Itzal stared at the young woman in awe, he had never seen someone so gorgeous as her. The music she played was just as beautiful, it made him feel like he was in a trance almost… Or if he was floating on air. “Amazing…” He whispered back to Paula. “I’ve never heard anything like it. I wish I could play an instrument like that myself.” He admitted, flushing slightly as he continued to stare at Annabelle, he hoped that he wasn’t bothering her by just blatantly staring at her like she was some sort of fixture on a wall.

"Me too..." Paula admitted in her usual friendly tone, "I've never committed the time to learn."

After only another few moments of walking, Itzal and Paula would hear a male voice speak out.

"Aha, there you are, Paula." the man spoke, the sound of his accent making it obvious he was from Wales, "Is this your new friend? Itzal Fuji, right?" he continued, speaking clearly in English that Itzal could understand like it was completely normal to him.

Itzal choked, covering his mouth quickly to pretend that he had coughed before he turned around to see who was addressing him, still trying to comprehend how on earth he could even understand the English language perfectly.

As Itzal and Paula looked in the direction of the voice, they could see a man standing at what was clearly meant to be a bar. There was a fine selection of drinks - alcoholic and non-alcoholic alike - on display behind him. The man himself was young and very handsome, probably halfway into his twenties. He was moderately tall, just a little under six foot more than likely, and had pale - though not unhealthily pale - skin and deep silver-tinted blue eyes. His physical features were mostly what people would describe as 'Aryan', and he had rather light golden blonde hair which was roughly an inch longer than chin-length, slightly wavy and messy parted bangs framing his forehead and down the sides of his face. He wore a white dress shirt with the collar button and the one below it both left undone, and the collar was slightly up. A beige vest was worn over the dress shirt, and he wore black pants and a pair of black dress shoes. The pocket of his vest had a white handkerchief sticking partially out of it.

"Hey Simon!" Paula said with a smile, with Itzal understand the English she spoke.

Itzal hummed softly, so this was the Simon that he had heard so much about… He could see why Paula was attracted to him, he was a pretty handsome man he supposed. But, he seemed like a gentleman and kind, he figured that they could be friends considering that he was close to Paula.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He said with bow, trying to hide the shock on his face that he was speaking perfect English. When he finished, he gave Simon the most convincing smile that he could, trying to hide how freaked out he was.

"You too, Mr. Fuji," Simon replied, "or would you prefer Itzal?"

“Ah, Itzal’s fine.” Itzal told him, still smiling. “So… Mr. Simon, do you enjoy working at the estate?” He asked, hoping the break the ice a little. He figured he’d at least try to be friendly with one of Paula’s friends.

"Simon Chandler. It’s my pleasure." the man from Wales replied to being called ‘Mr. Simon’, since he realized he had not introduced himself, "Everyone just calls me 'Simon', so you can too. No need for us to be too formal, after all."

Itzal nodded, still feeling that calling him just ‘Simon’ was a bit too casual for his tastes, of course he had to realize that there weren’t as strong social implications in France that his home country of Japan had. “Yes, forgive me… Simon.” He said awkwardly.

"Of course, whatever you find most comfortable is fine with me, and there’s nothing to apologize for." Simon said calmly, remaining friendly and with no sign at all that he was offended, and then he went back to replying to the question, "I've only been working here for a year now, but it's been rather enjoyable."

“From what Paula has been telling me… It sounds like a lovely place to work.” Itzal said, glancing around and listening to the piano music resound. “It’s so elegant… I almost feel like I don’t belong here even if I’m just here visiting.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Admittedly, I felt the same way when I first arrived." Simon replied, "You'll get used to it."

"Yeah, I still find it all a bit overwhelming myself." Paula said, considering she had only been here a few times now.

"Can I get you two something to drink?" Simon asked, figuring he should at least do his job.

“Is it alright if I have some sparkling water?” Itzal asked him. “And… There’s actually something else I wanted to ask.” He frowned as he tried to think of how he should even word his question. “I noticed something peculiar when I entered the estate… Normally I don’t speak or understand English so well… But, for some reason I am now. Is… There a reason for that?”

"Ah, that." Simon replied, nodding his head as he went to prepare the drink, but the tone in his voice indicated he was not surprised by Itzal's question at all.

"Can I have some tea? The usual." Paula asked, her tone friendly enough but she was clearly curious about Itzal's question.

Simon nodded with a friendly smile in response to Paula, and within half a minute he had Itzal's drink ready, placing it out on the table. "You all came here because you have a 'wish' you want granted, right...? I'm aware of the basic outline of the letter you all received." he explained, "Well... the letter wasn't exaggerating. Bonaparte's no ordinary man... Surely, if he can grant wishes then something like this is trivial to him, wouldn’t you say...?" he proposed, preparing Paula's tea as he spoke.

Itzal was very quiet as he took time to digest what Simon had just told him, “No ordinary man…” He repeated as a whisper. “It just... “ He shook his head. “It defies all logic. How can someone have such extraordinary powers like this and no one know?” He felt almost guilty for asking these questions, as if perhaps Monsieur Bonaparte could somehow be listening in to their entire conversation, but… He needed some sense to this situation somehow.

"To be honest, I don't know myself..." Simon replied sincerely, "I don't know the details, but Bonaparte has done something here that allows you all to understand English. Apparently, he chose English because it's the most known language in the world, so less people would have trouble getting used to it." Simon admitted, "That's why it's the first time Paula's even noticed it."

"Oh, right..." Paula thought to herself. Now it made sense, since she had only come here a few times.

Granted, Paula was having a hard time digesting the idea that Monsieur Bonaparte was capable of something like that, but it seemed sort of tame compared to the idea of 'granting wishes'. Since she spoke both French and English, Paula had never noticed anything was weird about the estate until now. As absurd as the whole concept was, it also explained why Itzal was speaking English coherently. There was no denying that Itzal could now understand and even speak the language as if he had naturally done so his whole life, so what Simon said had to be true unless Itzal was hiding his full knowledge of English up until this point..

Itzal huffed slightly, glad to have at least some sort of logic worked into this as he took a few sips of his drink, “Well… I guess there are more stranger happenings in the universe.” He said, deciding to be as casual about the situation as Simon. It was becoming clear to him that as much as he wanted to argue logic until he was blue in the face, it wasn’t going to do much good here.

Not too long after, Paula’s tea was ready and Simon went to place it in front of her.

"Thanks." Paula said with a smile, taking a sip.

Pulling out a golden pocket watch from his right pocket, Simon took a look at the time, "Thirty-eight past twelve..." Simon said casually, "Still a little over four hours until the escort leaves."

“Then… The other guests arrive.” Itzal commented, still sipping on his drink, looking thoughtful. “I wonder what everyone else is like.”

Paula was ready to ask if any of the other guests had arrived since the last time she had been at the estate, but then she remembered the whole reason she was introducing Itzal to Simon in the first place. She almost wanted to slap herself on the head for nearly forgetting, but this whole business with Itzal miraculously being able to understand and speak fluent English had thrown her off a bit.

"Oh yeah!" Paula suddenly, "I was wondering if you could put in a good word for Itzal." she pointed out, "I mean, he's a chef, so I thought maybe he could help out with the cooking at some point?"

"Well, assuming that he'd actually enjoy doing that when he's meant to be a guest, I don't see a reason why I couldn't at least bring it up." Simon said casually with a smile - wondering when that would come up, since they had been texting about it earlier - as he turned to Itzal, "Would you like me to introduce you to the chef a bit later?"

“Yes please!” Itzal said eagerly, a wide smile on his face. “That would be absolutely wonderful if you could!” He sounded like a child in a candy store as he stated this, and to be honestly, he probably would sound this excited if he were in a candy store regardless. “While I am a chef… There is so much that I still have yet to learn and I want to learn as much as I can.”

"Modest, huh?", Simon said as he smiled in reaction to the cuteness that was Itzal's excitement, "No problem. I'm thinking we should probably let you pick a room once you finished drinking. Do you need any help with that luggage?"

Itzal nibbled his lip as he thought on that, “I suppose… I’m actually not as strong as I look…” He admitted, flushing slightly. “At one point I was. And… I can just pick any room?” He asked, looking back over at Simon.

"More or less." Simon replied, "There's a guest dormitory connected to that hallway over there." he explained, pointing to one of openings in the giant lobby they were currently located, "Only a couple of rooms are taken so far, since most of the guests haven't arrived, so you've got a lot of options."

"Huh?" Paula said with a curious look on her face, tilting her head slightly, "Aren't they all the same though...?" she asked, pretty sure she had seen them before.

"Oh, well yeah," Simon said with a mischievous smile, scratching the back of his head with one hand for a moment, "but you don't have to spoil my fun like that."

Itzal chuckled slightly, “I’m not too picky myself so any room is fine with me. They all at least have a bed, right?” He asked with his own mischievous smile. “That’s all I really need to be happy in a bedroom, a bed.”

`Simon...` Paula thought with a smirk as she just sipped her tea, realizing that Simon was playing more of his mind games again, probably on both of them.

"Well they'd hardly be 'bedrooms' without them." Simon chuckled back, "At least you're easy to please." he pointed out as he stepped out from the bar, getting ready to take the luggage once Itzal was finished drinking.

Itzal finished off his drink, watching Simon pick up his luggage before following him down the corridor, he couldn’t help but to feel slightly unnerved by how large it seemed. Simon stopped at one of the rooms and opened the door, allowing him to see what exactly was inside. Like what he had seen so far of the chateau, it was very ornate and well put together for being only a guest room. “Wow…” He breathed.

"Pretty ace, right?" Paula said, looking at Itzal's reaction to the room.

Itzal nodded slowly, “Yeah… I wasn’t expecting it to look like this.” He said with a slight chuckle, not sure exactly what Paula meant by that. “But… I suppose I should have guessed that it would be.” He slowly walked in the room, glancing around. “Bigger than what I was expecting too.”

"Well, it's to be expected," Simon said casually as he placed the luggage down in the room, "considering whose home this is."

"Oh yeah," Paula said suddenly, a thought coming to her, "I don't know why I didn't ask this before, but what did you mean by a 'couple' of rooms being taken? I thought only Anna was here so far?"

“Are there others here beside Miss Anna?” Itzal asked, looking back at Simon. “... I suppose they could be in their rooms.” He considered, looking over an elaborate painting that hung over the bed. He could have sworn he knew this painting from a museum.

"Ah, you picked up on that." Simon said mischievously, as if he had been wondering if someone would notice, "Actually, one other guest arrived this morning."

“Before I arrived?” Itzal asked, surprised by this, if not a little unnerved.

"Have you ever heard of the business tycoon known as Gillard Maximilian...?" Simon questioned, expressing uncertainty as to whether or not either Itzal or Paula kept up with world affairs.

“I haven’t actually.” Itzal said, he really didn’t keep up with world affairs unless it involved something he had specific interest in.

"Wait... ‘Maximilian’?" Paula said, eyes widening slightly, "You mean from the Maximilian Foundation? That Gillard Maximilian?" she asked. In all honestly, it was perfectly fair for Paula to be surprised, since she had not actually seen a full list of the guests in the few times she had come to the estate so far.

Itzal hummed, wondering what such an important person would be doing here with people like himself. “Does… He have some sort of appointment with Monsieur Bonaparte?” He wondered aloud.

"He's one of the people who received a letter, just like you." Simon replied to Itzal's question.

Itzal’s eyes widened, he choked slightly, “He… Received a letter?” He whispered, questions started to overrun his thoughts about how someone of his status would receive a letter. His stomach turned slightly as he thought about his own letter.

"Yes, that’s right.", Simon replied, "Does that surprise you?"

Paula was the daughter of a journalist, so she was actually a lot more savvy about the world than her airheaded demeanour implied. She had heard plenty of stories about various people from her father, and one of the names she had definitely heard before was Gillard Romeo Maximilian. The man was a very powerful and wealthy businessman who ran the Maximilian Foundation, which had influence in several areas of the world's industry. In particular though, Mr. Maximilian was infamous among some circles because his company had performed morally questionable practices.

`He was invited...?` Paula thought to herself.

Why would Monsieur Bonaparte, a man who for all intents and purposes had only ever been believed to contribute to positive and benevolent projects, invite an amoral person like that to his estate for this gathering?

Itzal frowned, turning away, “I guess in a way it does.” He admitted, not wanting to go into further detail than that. While he might see Paula and Simon as friends, there was still the issue of trust, he hadn’t found any reason to trust either of them entirely.

"Well," Simon said, feeling a need to ease the concern that seemed to be troubling Itzal now, "when you think about it, all sorts of people have wishes, so it isn't too unusual that people quite different from you would be invited here. After all, you don't have too much in common with Anna either, do you?"

Itzal’s shoulders tightened slightly, “... Yes. I suppose that we all have wishes.” He admitted, for the first time to himself. “I guess I shouldn’t feel so surprised about it.” He managed to give Simon a weak smile.

"You talk about this whole 'wish' thing like it's so normal, Simon..." Paula said abruptly, sort of not really wanting to think about the fact that Gillard Maximilian was one of the guests here. Sure, the man was not exactly 'evil' or anything, but the Maximilian Foundation had been known to put profit ahead of morality or ethics. "I mean~" she started, but found herself hesitating.

"Hmmm...?" Simon turned to Paula casually, "Is something wrong...?" he asked, though he had already caught on -- he was just being polite, and had an interest in hearing her say what was on her mind.

♫ The Bouncer OST - Rain, Sound of Memories - | Distant Rain - The Cross Children |

"It's just... this whole idea that Monsieur Bonaparte invited these people here to give them a chance to have their wishes granted. You've explained that's what this is all about, and yet..." Paula said.

“Perhaps there is a darker meaning behind everything.” Itzal said suddenly, looking graver than Paula had ever seen him. “It’s a bit like people… There is always something that isn’t always like it seems… Do you not agree?” He asked, smiling, though his smile was cold… Not the same happy go lucky Paula was used to. It was almost… Frightening.

`... Itzal...?` Paula thought, concerned about the change in her new friend’s aura.

"I understand exactly how you feel..." Simon said sincerely, agreeing with Itzal about how people were rarely what they seemed, but feeling like the real concern should be focused on instead. Also, for the very first time a hint of melancholy was in his voice now that was far more serious.

There was no denying that Simon was highly intelligent - one could tell that just by speaking with him for a few minutes, even if he was acting so laid-back most of the time - but this was the first time since Itzal met him that it was apparent that he was not joking around at all. Actually, it was the first time Paula had seen him so serious. Simon always had a caring and sensitive tone in his voice, but there was something... deeper now.

Simon had learned that in the short time Paula had been here she was already growing to admire Monsieur Bonaparte, and that she actually really wanted to believe all the stories about the mysterious philanthropist having the power to perform miracles. After all, the man seemed to know everything going on in Paris, and fate itself seemed to move at his whim sometimes. On top of that, he knew enough about the people who received the letter that he knew they had deep aspirations. All of this without seemingly needing to lift a finger... It was all borderline god-like, to put it bluntly.

"To be honest with you..." Simon admitted, "If I had heard about this whole arrangement a year ago, I would've been as sceptic about it as you two are."

Itzal frowned, still looking grave for a few moments before his expression changed to how it normally was. “Well, I suppose there is no use dwelling on the matter.” He said suddenly. “The cards have been dealt and we just have to carry on, right?” He gave a genuine smile. “To see how everything will go in other words.”

"Still, I feel the need to tell you, since I want to put your mind at ease..." Simon said kindly, feeling like he needed to say this even if Itzal had seemingly tried to push his concerns aside, "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone about this yet, but the truth is... I'm only alive right now because of Bonaparte..."

Itzal blinked, his expression turning slightly surprised, “Well… I’m glad that you are alive.” He told him firmly. “You seem to be a very kind, sincere person… And I can respect that.” He gave Simon one of his regular, heartfelt smiles.

"No," Simon said calmly, "I think you might be misunderstanding me..." he said, appreciating the compliment but feeling like there was something far more important to say here.

"... Simon...?" Paula said, having never seen him like this before.

"What I mean is... I'm alive because Bonaparte cured me..."

Itzal was shocked into silence, he felt that he had put some of the pieces of the puzzle together, and it was starting to scare him greatly. He felt his mouth starting to go dry as he swallowed heavily, just what was going to happen here?

"Wh-What do you mean...?" Paula asked.

"I was very ill, Paula..." Simon admitted, "I probably only had a year left to live... at most. I've got medical records, if you don't believe me. There was nothing anyone could do for me. I've spent almost my entire life knowing I would die before I even turned thirty..."

Itzal swallowed once more, “... Then… What you’re saying is... “ He stopped himself, he couldn’t even believe it himself. But, it was seeming that the undeniable proof was standing right in front of him. He felt the room spin slightly before he went down and sat at the edge of the bed, he looked like he was in absolute shock.

"I guess you could say I've already seen first-hand that Bonaparte can perform ‘miracles’, Itzal..." Simon said, "So I hope now you can understand why I'm so casual about this whole situation. I apologize for not making this clear sooner, but it isn't really something I can just blurt out to anyone..."

Itzal nodded slowly, “No… Thank you for sharing this with me.” He said softly. “I think… No, I was still in denial this entire time about why I even decided to come here. Now, I can be honest with myself.” He was shaking slightly. “Something… That I haven’t been able to do for years now.”

Simon smiled, even if there was still a hint of melancholy, "I'm glad I could help then, because it's important for you to be true to yourself."

"... S-Simon..." Paula said softly.

"I apologize for hiding this from you too, Paula." Simon said as he turned to her, "It was not my intention to withhold anything from you, but..."

"N-No, that's okay!" Paula said, sort of perking up again after the initial stutter, even if she was still overwhelmed by all of this, "Now that I know the truth, I'm just glad to know you're well..."

"I appreciate that..." Simon said with a smile, turning to face Itzal again, "So, are there any other concerns you have? If I can help, I'd like to."

Itzal sighed deeply, running his hands through his hair as he started to calm down, “I’m fine now… I think I just… Need some time to lay down if that’s all right.” He said, swallowing once again. “Just… Feel light headed all of the sudden.”

"Of course." Simon replied, "I'm sure this has been quite a lot to take in. It definitely wasn't easy for me to come to terms with initially either." he added, "Would you like us to bring you anything?"

“Maybe… Just something to drink… If you would be so kind?” Itzal asked Simon with a weak smile, already starting to lay down.

"You've got it. What can I get you?" Simon asked.

“Just sparkling water.” Itzal answered, closing his eyes.
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Hidden 7 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Shoryu Magami
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Chateau de Sophie, Lobby | April 14, 2012 (12:57 PM)

♫ The Bouncer OST - Aria Kaldea

`I exist... because of you...` Annabelle Joanne Taylor (known as 'Anna' in the media) thought to herself, deep in the ocean of an emotional introspect as she gently played the piano in the lobby of the Chateau de Sophie.

The young woman was very attractive, with delicate features - a true feminine beauty - and a tender expression on her light Caucasian face. She looked quite young even without relying on make-up, being 'baby-faced' while still having features that would be considered rather 'hot' alongside being 'cute', which was helped by her noticeable womanly figure. Her sky blue eyes were warm, yet melancholy and deep at the same time; in fact, they had an expression as if she had many things on her mind that she was not saying.

Despite the calm look on her face causing her eyes to appear small and even a bit sleepy, her eyes were actually known to be fairly big and expressive when she showed more excitable or troubled emotion, making her have rather dynamic facial features. Her hair was a strawberry blonde - appearing darker than it actually was due to the lighting - and was both long (almost down to her waist) and wavy. The hair at the front of her face was styled into large parted bangs -- the ones at the right being swept behind her ear - though a few bangs still sit in front of her ear and frame her face - while the ones on the left were draping down over her forehead and framing down the left side of her face; in fact, her left eye could easily have been covered by it if she wished. Some of her hair was hanging over the front of her right shoulder as well.

With the sole exception of her black heels, none of her outfit was actually visible, because she was wearing a pale red winter overcoat with dark red trim and collar over her outfit, and the coat went down virtually to her feet. Though the coat was currently open - the temperature in the room was fairly comfortable, but still a little cool for her - the way she was seated at the piano would make it difficult to see her outfit, unless the person looking was going out of their way to see it. She was wearing a black mid-calf length cocktail dress with frilly spaghetti straps, and had her most cherished possession - a pair of small golden crucifixes attached to a thin golden chain - around her neck like always. As she played the piano, her black gloves were left off alongside a large white purse that was seated closely next to her.

`No matter what happens next... I am honoured to even be deemed worthy to be here...` Anna thought to herself sincerely.

While she continued to play gently, Anna turned her face to the side and noticed Simon, the bartender she had become acquaintances with - perhaps even friends with - stepping out of the hallway that led to the guest dormitory, with that funny young woman known as Paula following slowly behind him. For some reason though, Paula looked uncharacteristically melancholy. Simon always had a sort of mystique and melancholy to him, even if he was always warm and sentimental -- very similar to Anna herself, in that sense. Simon seemed a lot more willing to goof around than Anna though, but then maybe... in another life... she could have afforded to be more laid-back too.

Anna guessed that the young man - well, she assumed it was a young man, but he almost looked like a boy - who had recently arrived was now in his room. Anna had figured out from the moment the albino entered the room that he must be another one of the guests just like her, and she had been seeing Simon texting someone - presumably Paula - for hours on-and-off now. Throughout the conversation between the three at the bar, Anna had been listening, but she was also lost in her own world as she played, so she missed some of what they were saying. The bar was not too far away from the piano, but she would still have needed to pay attention to follow the conversation -- apart from Paula anyway, who nearly always spoke like she had no idea what an inside voice was.

"Oh hey," Paula said, still seeming a bit melancholy, but then her voice perked up to its usual tone again, "you should let me take that, Simon. It is my job, after all!" she said, smiling a bit.

"Sure thing," Simon replied calmly, "thanks."

After Simon handed Paula a drink, the soon-to-be caterer of Monsieur Bonaparte's estate was off to get an early start at her job -- sort of ironic, given how the girl was seemingly late most of the time. Anna just continued playing the piano, really feeling like she could only be herself when she was doing so. It was an escape - a beautiful sanctuary - that allowed her to just get away from the rest of her life and really just completely be herself.

For just a moment, Simon smiled at Anna as he listened to her play, and the young woman offered him a smile in return, nodding her head softly. Soon enough, everything would start. Who knew what would happen?
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Heap241 The Inquisitive Improvisationist

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Tatiana Adelbert


Location: Paris, France, travelling by Taxi Date: April 14th, 2012 Time: 13:00


Tatiana's pale green eyes opened slowly as the lights beaming through tree branches and leaves streamed their way into the back passenger side window of the taxi and reflected onto the ageing skin of the Hungarian woman. The warmth from the magnification of the suns rays slipped past the protection of her eye lids, tickling her tired eyes with their illustrious gaze. The drive was smooth though the taxi smelled of old leather satchurated in the mixed natural odors of the many passengers it has seen, sweep in and out of it's seemingly revolving doors.

The lavender purple carpet bag was clutched tightly by the leather handles and sitting on Tatiana's lap, it's contents shifting within their safe enclosure as the subtle movements of her knees rocked them, tired from her journey but still with a little bit of spring. The clothe covering the bag was older and worn, somewhat frayed but over all still in good shape.

Tatiana watched out the window, counting trees with her eyes, watching children kick a ball back and forth in a courtyard behind an iron fence. The world was still full of life, full of youth and full of meaning. "Nézni és hallgatni, és a világ továbbra is ez az élet körülötted." she muttered to herself, her breath releasing a brush of steam against the window her face was so near to. It was something Farko often said in the quiet moments when there was uncertainty or discomfort. "Pardon." the taxi driver stated, realizing she had woken and looking at her in the rear view mirror.

The green eyes found his deep blue ones before she graced him with a simple smile then repeated herself. "Nézni és hallgatni, és a világ továbbra is ez az élet körülötted. It means 'Watch and listen and the world will continue it's life around you.'" her voice was soft and almost motherly, as though she were to reciting a poem. The driver smiled in return before speaking in English with a thick french accent. "My mather said somezing similar to me zome time ago. Zhe said, 'Son, do not worry about ze little things in life, learn from ze growing world around you, live like it lives, never stopping to feel zorry for itself, only growing past it's cuts and bruises to zee how igh it can reach."

Tatiana looked at him then at her hands for a moment smiling to herself at the drivers words. "You have a wise mother." she responded finally. Her eyes drifted out the window for a moment and nodded at a man on a horse who was galloping by on the side of the road. They were outside of the main suburban area of the city now. It was still only midday and while she knew the taxi driver was taking the scenic route to the estate, she didn't mind watching the world from the her window make it's way around her, oblivious to the millions of other lives echoing and beating, dreaming and thinking.

The taxi driver began speaking again, talking in English without much effort making it difficult to understand though, the rhythmic sound of his voice kept a sense of calm in the vehicle, keeping it welcoming and refreshing. The rumble of the car almost drifting her into a serene sleep once again if the car did not seem to be slowing down. "Mademoiselle" the driver announced back to her. "We are nearly to ze address."

A nervous anchor dropped into the pit of Tatiana's stomach as they approached the outter reaching fence that surrounded the property. Her heart fluttered some and her breathes tightened, the shivering thought of, "It's not too late to turn back" echoed in the back of her mind. She clutched the leather handles causing them to squeak as the fabric rubbed against itself in her grasp. She let out a long breath, realizing she'd been holding it as they approached a gate, opened slightly as if expecting her to arrive when she did.

The driver slowed to a stop right before the gate "Vould you ike me to drive to ze door? his voice pulled Tatiana out of her somewhat trance where her eyes were fixated on the gate entrance before she turned her gaze towards the driver once more, smiled and shook her head gently. "Thank you, I would like to walk to the entrance if I can." She slipped her hands into her jacket pocket and pulled out her thin wallet. She glanced at the price counter on the dash board then looked in her wallet pulling out the price plus half and giving it to the driver. Once again, over paying for a service provided to her.

The door clicked as it was pressed open and let off three consecutive dings within the interior of the bright yellow vehicle. The door was lightly browned with the dusting of dirt that attached to it as they drove over the unpaved roads through their journey. At the click of the door shutting behind her the taxi driver waited for a moment as Tatiana had yet to take a step then drove off past her leaving a light dust cloud in it's wake which quickly settled itself back onto the road once more.

Tatiana took a deep breath, still clutching her bag, before dropping into her side so it hovered inches above the group and took the first step towards the gate. The ground was solid beneath her shoes, the sun was high in the sky keeping her shadow close to her which seemed to send the message of, "Don't be afraid." She took another step, then another until her hands were against the gate door and rotating it open, ringing the sound of lightly rubbing iron in the air.

The driveway was long and was surrounded by what seemed to be distinguished garden, the manor was outrageously beautiful and seemed to be opening it's arms to receive it's coming guest who held the ominous invitation. The rose bushes and perky flowers painted their color across the estate, vibrantly highlighting the grounds and crevices in the many hues they encompassed.

Tatiana looked around with each step, watching little animals chase each other into the bushes, a small flock of birds perched in a tree harmonizing their song to each others tune as if in a melodic choir of conversation, each one beaming with excitement at whatever the other one said. The main door was close now and the soft pinging and music of a piano playing began echoing into the air, the sound escaping from the slightly opened doorway.

The steps were clean and clear as the older woman took each of them, gently touching the entry door with a shivering hand, the anchor in her stomach settling back again as the door swung open in response to her gentle push. The music from the piano filled the room and a beautiful woman sat playing it her fingers moving with grace and swiftness, failing to miss a key and succeeding in transporting it's listener to another world. The musician matched the artistry of the music in her appearance, expression and aura, feeling the passion of each note as it rang up and filled the room.

Near the piano was a bar with a gentleman standing behind it and what seemed like a waitress near by as well. Tatiana took a few steps into the room, the natural light dimming quickly from the sudden change making it difficult to see at first then ease into vision after a moment. She jostled her carpet bag for a second and then once again stepped in further making her way towards an elegant love seat near a window where she put down her carpet bag then walked closer to the bar.

"Excuse me" she said softly, cutting herself off before speaking again at the realization that while she knew English, her accent was far less pronounced then it usually was. She nodded her head so as to not seem too taken aback and began again. "Pardon me, My name is Tatiana Adelbert. I received the invitation letter and while I don't mean to intrude, I am not sure where I am meant to go." Tatiana's eyes caught the bartenders then the waitresses and then with a glance at the pianist whose music still filled the room shifted her eyes sweetly back towards the bartender.
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