[hr][hr] [img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/557c3248-b00e-4d67-aa51-40c23e29b0db.jpg[/img] [hr] [Center][color=a6fef2]Location[/color]: Château de La Lune: Foyer [color=a6fef2]Skills[/color]: N/A [/center] [hr][hr] Sam sat there, half eating, half moving the food on his plate around from side to side. It wasn't that Gordon wasn't an amazing Chef, nor that the changed Breakfast plans left him wanting. But the vast emptiness of the room coupled with why was both sitting here having breakfast as well as why he was physically here in France in the first place, weighed heavily on him. He took another bite, shifting in his seat to get a better view of who else was in the room, while still ensuring nothing of note slipped out. No one yet had joined him. Maybe they were all getting ready? Maybe he should've gotten ready. He let out a huff of air, blowing his messy bangs up before the flopped right back down. How the hell was he meant to do any of this? He wasn't like any of the people here, he wasn't exactly meant for politicking or social events that required asking questions in discreet manners so that the others wouldn't know. It was clear now both with how Tony had responded to him, as well as Juliane. He glanced back at her, staring for a moment in the event she'd meet his gaze, but before she could another walked into the room. At first Sam was excited, maybe he could talk to another contestant about all this for a moment, but when he saw it was Millicent, all the air deflated right out of him. They'd already talked and formulated a plan. What more could they say to each other? Minutes after? It seemed that she felt the same. Having sat away from him, no doubt to create an area where she could speak to others privately so they felt less pressured to keep their secrets. Smart. Sam's fork hung off his lips, caught between his teeth as he sat there thinking about everything that had come to pass. Millicent with robberies, Miguel with his brother's death, Ralph and his former flair, how did any of this connect? Connections…wait, wasn't that why the other dancer was so upset? Because she had spent the night with Renee before the incident. But…their rooms were so close to each other how did…how did she end up at the bottom of the stairs? Sam's seat clattered backwards with a screech as he quickly stood up from the table. Making his way back out of the room and into the hallway of doors. At first he just tried to scan the carpet, looking for any obvious drag marks or footprints, any change in the direction of hairs that would showcase movement. But this thing was so old and trampled on you couldn't gather any information from it at all. So he got lower, on his hands and knees searching between Rhiannon's room and Renee's. Then from there to the stair case, or as close as he was willing to get to it. No specks of blood or signs of distress either. Sam let out another sigh. [Color=a6fef2]”None of this makes any sense…”[/color] He said to no one but himself as he began to stand up and make his way back into the breakfast area. Constance now having joined in it seemed.