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Post by Deleted on Jan 13, 2014 15:05:39 GMT -6
He was alone.
Matthew was used to being alone and being lonely. Few people paid enough attention to him to care.
He'd been alone for quite a while now, but it just seemed so much worse right now.
The hours crept by, one by one. Minutes, ticking somewhere in the back of Matthew's head. He didn't know how long he'd been wandering the halls of the Manor by himself.
There was something deeply disturbing about the Manor, and Matthew had a feeling in his gut that it originated deep inside the very foundations of the Manor. Control seemed to be a laughable thought that the Manor took pleasure in scorning. There was something deeply evil and sinister about the entire structure, as if it had a mind of its own.
Matthew's footsteps echoed against the wooden floor. He hadn't seen anyone since the blackout had occurred and that seemed just as ominous. What if the rest of the world was completely invisible to him now?
...That would certainly be ironic.
But no, Matthew had a feeling that wasn't the case. Because though he hadn't seen a soul, he'd certainly heard disturbances. Disturbances that made his skin crawl and his heart pump a little faster. Footsteps that belonged to no one, growling that seemed to come fro beneath his feet, whispers that Matthew whirled around to search for the source of only to find himself staring into empty air. There were bloodstains, concealed but present, and scratch marks that made Matthew wonder what had happened hear through the years.
...But most importantly of all, there was a dreadful feeling that someone was out there and they were watching. Staring into him like a half.
"Stop," Matthew murmured to himself. He couldn't think this way. If Matthew knew anything, it was that negative thoughts got you nowhere. He had to stick through it.
He petted Kumajiro's head absentmindedly. The polar bear had been exceptionally quiet as they wandered the halls, but Matthew found his presence soothing. The few times they'd talked, Kumajiro had acknowledged him instead of forgetting his name. Perhaps it was a side-effect of the Manor or perhaps Kumajiro was simply frightened. Whatever it was, Matthew was almost glad that they were making it through this mess alright. He didn't know if the Manor had simply ignored him until now, but this was one of those moments that Matthew was glad he was rarely ever noticed.
They walked through another doorway, Matthew clutching his hockey stick tightly in his hand. He was unsure as to what might lie behind every doorframe. Maybe nothing (they hadn't encountered anything after all), but maybe something dangerous was just around the corner. Matthew wasn't about to take any chances.
To his relief, he had stumbled upon a kitchen. It looked almost modern. A few things were missing, but it was large and comfy and spacious and there was something welcoming about it. Matthew's anxiety dimmed. Cupboards and cupboards full of who knew what. His hopes soared. He was almost certain that Alfred would've stocked up with plenty of food. This was certainly the best place to be in this Manor, the safest place. People would wander here searching for food and surely they were safer in number?
Of course, doubts immediately crept into Matthew's mind. Like what if the Manor knew about this? What if it had purposefully made the kitchen this way, to lure unsuspecting nations here and destroy them bit by bit, allowing them to watch their loved ones die? What if--?
Matthew really needed to stop thinking.
Opening one of the drawers with a great deal more apprehension than he'd had just a moment ago, Matthew discovered a pantry full of flour and sugar and eggs and almost everything that one could ever want. There were a number of ingredients he recognized as some of the other nations' favorite foods. Whoever had stocked the kitchen had certainly planned everything out.
Matthew sifted through the cupboards. It seemed almost like every nation could find something they loved and wanted to make here. He wondered briefly if it had been planned that way, if there was something in the food. Matthew decided that was unlikely. If the Manor wanted them dead, he had a feeling they would no longer be here.
Still, if the kitchen had provided them with everything they loved or desired...
Matthew reached into the last drawer, taking out pots and jars of unknown substances. Finally, he spotted the bottle of deep amber liquid in the corner.
"Yes!" His cry of triumph came out louder than intended and he glanced towards the kitchen's entrance just in case. No one seemed to be making their way through. He was alright.
Taking the maple syrup out and putting the rest of the various pots and jars back, Matthew felt something nudge him from behind. He jumped a little, only to find that it was Kumajiro.
"We'll be fine," Matthew murmured quietly. "We'll be just fine."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2014 0:06:42 GMT -6
She was tired.
Tired of relentless pain, tired of her constant paranoia, tired of the impending dark, tired of the stress of not knowing, tired of wondering where everyone was. It was so lonely -- frightening, being so alone as Ciel felt as she did now. Fear was now a good friend of hers; no longer a mysterious stranger, nor a passing acquaintance. She had always been a person who valued her peace and quiet; and now, she never wanted to be alone again. The need to see some other sentimental, actual living human being was growing more and more desperately, and soon Ciel found herself throwing all the caution she had so tentatively cultivated to the wind. Impulse and adrenaline began to take over her system.
The tempest had finally ceased, and the first and second floors were now once again safe to venture through. Her quest for knowledge of the Baudeau Manor would be temporarily put on hold Previously, Ciel remembered encountering a kitchen; she had decided on a whim. She was hungry, as her stomach ferociously told her resentfully, and she was starting to feel light-headed -- which was certainly not a good sign, and so, Ciel sought to satisfy her hunger. A drink of water would also be lovely, and her throat felt parched just thinking about it; she tried to distract herself from the current lack of necessities, with little success.
As she approached the doorway, the light within the kitchen was illuminated. It made her stop in her tracks, and Ciel eyed it, warily. The cogs in her brain were beginning to spin -- but just as easily as they started, they were becoming overheated, too fast, and out of control.
The light… somebody was in there. Somebody? Something? A thing… Creature? Monster? Would they need light? Nation -- no. Human. Could they really be considered Nations anymore? Surely they had lost something in this hellhole. They could die here. They were fragile now, so easily hurt…
Calm. She needed to calm down right now, more than anything.
It would be fine; some of the logic began to surface again from the murkiness of her heavily weighed down mind. If the light was on, it was most likely a person -- there would be no reason for a monster to have -- or to be able to, in the first place. Unless… It was a ploy, a trap. Trying to draw in an unsuspecting person, and then kill them in a most violent manner that Ciel would prefer not to try to imagine right now, lest she would be sick. Her stomach was already turning in a fretful way that only helped to encourage her current anxiety.
This wasn’t good; not favorable in the least. But, Ciel reasoned with herself, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Curiosity killed the cat, resounded stubbornly in her mind.
But where would she go, if not here? She needed something to stabilize her failing physical and mental conditions. They only continued to worsen as time went on, and soon she wouldn’t be able to handle anything more. It would be better now to risk it, rather than wait until she was even further exhausted. Normally, she wouldn’t have had such low endurance as she did, but this was anything but a normal circumstance.
With slow, hesitant steps, she approached the door and peered in; only to see a very familiar pair. She stared, disbelievingly, and unsure, began to venture into the kitchen.
“Matthew? Is that you?”
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Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2014 19:38:18 GMT -6
So this mansion… Seychelles thought silently to herself as she trailed along the empty halls, …is supposed to be evil? She couldn't see it at first. For a long while, she had thought it was just another normal house, if a bit bigger and fancier than what she was used to seeing. But as she walked alone, she began to realize that it was possible there was an aura about the Manor that she might have missed at a first glance.
It was subtle, so it took her quite some time before she could catch it, but the halls weren't as simple as they had originally seemed. They were twisted, always twisting and bending, shifting as soon as her back was turned. One door that led to a bedroom previously suddenly led to a living room the next time she tried it. Sometimes doors in the hallway would open to even more hallway, and other times doors she entered disappeared without a trace as soon as she went through them. She was lost, and there was no possible way she could be found. It was confusing and irritating and terrifying all at the same time. Oh, how she hated complications! And if these unpredictable halls weren't complicating things enough already, she didn't want to stick around to see what else the Manor was capable of.
Then there was the silence. The horrible vacuum that seemed to suck all life from within the walls and constantly remind her that she was alone here, that there was no one else. It was just her, forever walking in circles in an inconsistent hallway that never seemed to end. Occasionally, she would hear a sound: a scrape across wood, a heavy footstep, a knock from behind a closed door. Just a shattering break to the silence that gave her some hope, however vain, that there was someone else here. She would charge for it, searching for somebody, anybody to talk to and remind her this place wasn't completely uninhabited. Alas, every time she thought she had reached the place she had heard it, she found only emptiness. The house was just as desolate as any haunted house would be.
But that's silly, she would think to herself. Something had to make that noise. I probably just missed them. If I keep going, I'll find them.
She found no one, and in a place where she had once been unafraid and challenging danger, she began to wonder if she had right to be concerned. What if she was trapped here forever? Which floor was she on again? Had she missed the exit, or had the hallways somehow pushed it just beyond her reach?
Where there's a way in, there's gotta be a way out. It only makes sense. But did anything make sense in a place like this?
Suddenly, she heard mumbling. Not just voiceless murmuring as she had so often imagined to fill this unwanted silence, but actual conversation drifting through the walls. Different from all the other sounds she had heard heretofore, this noise was so recognizably human. So familiar, so welcome! Dropping all precautions, she ran ahead just as she had so many times before.
This time, I'm not going to miss them! she decided, sliding across the hallway as she skidded to a stop. She actually slid a bit too far and had to scramble backwards to skitter through the doorframe. One look at the familiar blonde locks before her flicked a light of recognition, and it only took a second for her to recognize the voice she heard, however muffled it was when she heard it.
"Ciel!" she gleefully squealed, bounding into the room and throwing her arms around the girl's shoulders from behind. "I found you! I'm so glad I finally–" she stopped mid-sentence, circling around to see Monaco from the front. Seychelles kept her hands firmly on her sister-figure's shoulders, as though afraid the other nation would simply disappear if she so much as removed her touch. "Your costume is so pretty," she cooed, already allowing all the frustration and concern she had felt earlier slip right out of memory. Everything was all right! Monaco was here! …But where is here anyway?
Giving Monaco one more lingering hug, Seychelles looked around the room – which, as it would happen, was a kitchen – and saw that the two were not alone.
"Mattie! You're here too!" She slid away, keeping her hand on Monaco for as long as the distance would allow her before she leapt to wrap her arms around Canada's shoulders in another hug. Dropping back down to crouch beside Kumajiro and pet the polar bear behind the ears, she grinned back at her two fellow nations, all but forgetting all the danger she had reflected upon during her lonely wanderings. "This is definitely the most interesting costume party I've ever been to, don't you agree?"
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Post by Deleted on Jan 24, 2014 20:02:15 GMT -6
The Manor was much like a maze at this point. Each corridor seemed to be endless, only getting you absolutely nowhere - and going back where you came was pointless and inconsequential. No matter how many times Francis traversed the halls on each floor of the Manor, none seemed to look any more familiar than the last. It was as if the place refreshed itself in ominousness each hour. There was no unsettling aura which one nation could get used to. Even so, Francis felt more desensitized than he had before. He had overcome the resentment he felt toward the place, for all that remained was a lack of emotion entirely - his senses might have been heightened, but his usual joviality and eagerness to interact was entirely dulled.
Not once had he thought about how famished he was. He was tired and fatigued as well, and that was a matter he only reluctantly addressed. If there was anything about the Manor left to be intimidated by, it was the fact that it had managed to make the French nation forget so much about the normal things in life - how long it had been since he stepped foot in a kitchen or made himself any of his favored cuisine. It was like all of the nations' titles had been stripped; and all that remained were either 'survivor', 'prey', 'fighter', etc. That was a daunting thing to think of indeed.
Everything had moved on from the recent flooding now. Each event so far seemed to come and go so quickly. They were trials of endurance and entertainment for those that ran them, and thankfully he had prevailed through everything so far.
He had crossed so far through the first floor that he barely realized where he was going. A light shone ahead of him, instantly portraying a better feeling of liveliness than the rest of the rooms would have done. The light was not the lackluster beams of moonlight, but something with more color; more optimism than the light of the night sky seemed to cast upon the rest of the Manor.
There could be anything within that room, but honestly he was not cautious enough to begin fretting over it. He reluctantly pulled his blade from its holder, holding it at a low level by his side. Surely enough the kitchen would provide a comfort that Francis was more used to. If there was anything inhumane in his way, he wouldn't be opposed to disposing of it. It had been such a while since Francis observed this sort of confidence and desire to fight within himself. The place had done a good job at awakening that; and it seemed a necessary time now to do so.
He took a breath, a low inhale and exhale, and trudged on. Just... find some water, that will do you good. Relax and imagine that this is la cuisine back at home. There must be something in there to use. If there's anything the Manor won't do, it's take away his desire to cook. He deserved this chance to feel like himself again--
There were voices here, and those voices were followed by a sight he couldn't have been more thrown off to see.
He could have dropped his rapier. But before that could happen, he quickly shoved it back into its place on his 'costume'. He definitely did not want to appear as a threat now.
Blue eyes had gone wide, sliding quickly over one face to the next. All three of them were here. Alive and-- oh, his darlings, they looked so real and so... together!
"You all... y-you all made it 'ere? All at once?" That on its own was hard to believe. They all must have been struck with sheer luck to have ended up in the same place together. That or something evil tried to lure them there, possibly by using that light-- no. No, they deserved this happiness, if only for a moment. No pessimistic thinking.
For the first time in what felt like ages, a smile appeared on the Frenchman's face - so disheveled and in disbelief but so relieved. He had to see for himself that nothing or no one had laid a hand on any of them.
He hurried closer, thankful that they were already so close to each other. An arm threw itself first around the Canadian's shoulders. He hoped that that would be as good a sign as any that he hadn't forgotten the man - especially not in a place like this.
I'm so sorry... you shouldn't have to endure any of this on your own. I could curse this entire Manor if it did anything to pick on you. And if times were younger, he would have wished to guide Matthew throughout this entire thing, until they made it out safely... even if it meant colliding with America or England as well. Matthew always had been the soft-spoken one; one he took pride in having helped raise. He would help him cook - yes, of course he would.
That embrace passed quickly and another was wound around Monaco. Of course you've come through this far... As strong and cunning a woman I always knew you to be. She looked rather lost and tentative to be in here. Being cautious was always a good quality - but immediately he found himself remembering the times when she would look so pleased with herself. Just as Matthew was his partner in cooking, Ciel was the one he would often become involved in a game with - she always looked so adorably content whenever she'd win against him.
Next was Seychelles. I can always count on you to light up the room, precious girl. Your radiance and optimism prevails even in a place like this, doesn't it? Of course it did. It didn't come as a surprise to him to see her looking so sunny surrounded by family, in such a dreary place as the Manor. It was terribly bittersweet as well. She must not have seen the worst of the place yet, and God did he not want her to have to go through that.
After those greetings had properly ensued, he straightened his posture and looked about. This rush of emotion had been so overwhelming that tears had risen to the man's eyes, and he didn't even try to keep that hushed. He just wanted to... he didn't even know what he wanted to do first. He wanted to take all of them out of this place, yes, but that wasn't likely. Who knew how much time they would have here together? He wanted to make the most of it, in that case. There was no chance covering the fact that this meeting was as melancholy as it was happy on the surface... but at least he would try.
He was noticing all other details as well: the outfits that they were all wearing, Kumajiro's presence there beside Matthew, the bottle of syrup sitting on the counter. That almost made him chuckle. This kitchen was a haven for luck, wasn't it?
"I don't know where to begin." He could ask how they all are, but a part of him didn't want to hear about their experiences so far at the Manor. For now, they might as well try and forget everything else. Pretend that the only ones running this place is them. "I just 'ope some.. fortunate zings 'ave 'appened to you all so far. We might as well do somezing do savor our moment 'ere togezer, oui? W-what about cooking somezing? I see one of you took a 'ead start on finding ingredients. It can be just like it all was before." His voice expelled desperate hope, which was craftily tied in with his smile.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 27, 2014 22:52:34 GMT -6
"Matthew? Is that you?"
Matthew froze, his fingers in Kumajiro's fur. Could it be? The voice was so familiar. But he'd heard so many voices and false footsteps in the time he'd been at the Manor that he was afraid to hope.
He looked up and saw Ciel.
Relief and joy flooded through Matthew. Ciel! Monaco, but she would always be Ciel to him. Matthew knew every single nation's name. He didn't always call them by it, but for Ciel, he did. Ciel was like a sister towards Matthew. The nation was kind and while she did occasionally forget about his presence, it was never as much as the other countries. She talked to him more than the other nations. For that, Matthew was also eternally grateful.
But when the relief had faded, Matthew was suddenly stricken with concern. Ciel looked almost broken. Even the way she'd said his name...it was like she thought he was an illusion. She looked so tired, so weary, as if she'd been wandering through the Manor her entire life. There was a dullness to Ciel's eyes that made Matthew fear what she had gone through. What had caused someone as strong as her to break down?
Matthew was about to say something when someone else barged in. "Ciel!" There was so much unharnessed joy in the voice that Matthew was unable to react for a moment, only able to stare as Seychelles hugged Ciel from behind.
Matthew had always liked Seychelles. She was a nice girl, if a little excitable. Her presence now though, was something that he felt relieved to be in. She seemed so happy, so cheerful that it seemed to brighten up the kitchen a little more. Seychelles released Ciel from the hug. "I found you! I'm so glad I finally–" The girl made her way to look at Ciel in the face before breaking into an even wider smile. "Your costume is so pretty."
An undeniable warmth filled Matthew at the sight of Seychelles. Only Seychelles could wander these dark halls and still remain mostly the same. Only she would remember that they'd originally come here for a costume party.
"Mattie, you're here too!" Matthew was surprised as Seychelles basically jumped on him and wrapped him in a hug. He never talked to Seychelles as much as Monaco, but the warmth with which she had greeted him right now shocked him. Or was it just that he'd grown so used to wandering alone that he was struggling to realize that there were actually nations standing in front of him now?
"This is definitely the most interesting costume party I've ever been to, don't you agree?" Seychelles' cheerful tone brought a smile to Matthew's lips. The manor seemed a lot less dark, a lot less cold. They would be fine.
That was when Francis walked in.
"You all... y-you all made it 'ere? All at once?" There was disbelief in that French accent, just the slightest crack in his voice. Matthew looked up, hardly believing it himself.
What he didn't dare believe even further was when Francis strode towards him, pulling him into an embrace. It wasn't long before the hug ended, but Matthew could still feel the lingering warmth. Matthew would never have admitted it, but he had always desired Francis's approval. For a while, he had felt very much unwanted by the nation that was the closest Matthew had had to a father. Francis had remembered him this time, that in itself filled Matthew with a deep joy.
His family was here. Well, at least, part of his family. A wide smile broke out on Matthew's face. Nothing could ruin this moment.
Francis finished hugging all of them before taking a step back. Matthew thought he saw tears in the man's eyes. In Matthew's bliss, he'd forgotten to think about what Francis had gone through. There was something about Francis that told Matthew something was off. Maybe it was the tears. He looked like he'd been through a lot. Of course he had. Would he have remembered Matthew if he hadn't?
"I just 'ope some.. fortunate zings 'ave 'appened to you all so far. We might as well do somezing do savor our moment 'ere togezer, oui? W-what about cooking somezing? I see one of you took a 'ead start on finding ingredients. It can be just like it all was before." Francis sounded unbelievably hopeful, but there was something off about his phrasing. Just like it all was before?
Matthew decided not to question it. He smiled. "I was thinking that too," Matthew said softly, gesturing at the maple syrup behind him. "Not sure what we should make though." Matthew was happy, simply being here with the rest of his family. He had a feeling it wouldn't last very long, so it was best to enjoy it while it lasted. They could cook anything, Matthew didn't care. Matthew would do anything to help. It would be just like being home.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 15, 2014 19:35:38 GMT -6
Before Matthew could answer her, another voice cut in.
"Ciel!" Her name was the only warning she received before arms were tossed casually over her shoulders, and Ciel flinched at the unexpected physical contact. Her nerves were already scraped enough, she wasn't sure how much more of this she could endure. If she hadn't recognized the girl's voice before she had limbs wrapped around her, Ciel would have screamed.
"Angelique," she returned, the syllables of the name strangled.
"I found you! I'm so glad I finally–" Angelique broke off her train of thought mid-sentence, and Ciel felt the weight of her hands shift as she moved around to face her. Her hands (warm, so warm) remained on her cringing shoulders, as if Ciel was the only lifeline connecting Angelique to this world. She looked so cute like this, dressed as a pirate. Her chocolate brown eyes remained full of innocence, they hadn't yet been adulterated by the darkness that possessed this place. The desire to protect Angelique from the corruption burned. "Your costume is so pretty."
Angelique hugged her, and Ciel almost cried. She could feel the bittersweet warmth of a tear prick at the corner of her eye, but she blinked it back before it could stain her paled cheeks. It had been too long since she had been so tenderly embraced in such a way; she hadn't realized that she had missed it. Wrapping her arms to complete the hug, she murmured, "Merci, soeur."
"Mattie! You're here too!" She noticed that Angelique's hand trailed along, remaining physically connected to Ciel for as long as she could before she went to hug Matthew too. Ciel followed after her gingerly, not keen on staying by herself near the entrance. "This is definitely the most interesting costume party I've ever been to, don't you agree?"
Oh God, Ciel numbly thought, she doesn't know.
She wanted to be at peace; right here, right now. Matthew and Angelique were right here with her, she wasn't alone. But there was one person missing -- the one who had first introduced them all to each other. There was something wrong here without Francis. It was empty.
"You all... y-you all made it 'ere? All at once?"
Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear.
"F... Francis?" Her voice quavered, whipping to face him. And there he stood, in all his French pirate glory, and Ciel sobbed. She had had enough in this terrible, horrid Manor, and finally seeing Francis again, the dam had broken. Fat tears rolled down her face with no sign of stopping, just as when they were forced to escape the sudden torrent together from the library. She had continuously stored away her emotions of pessimism, fear, and bitter tiredness away in a small jar in her heart; finally, it had burst, and unable to contain and hide away her true feelings away any longer, Ciel cried openly as Francis rushed over to embrace them all in his lovely, open arms.
This is what she had missed, what she had lost after all this time. As Nations, they didn't have "family". It was a loose term, for the most part, and it didn't mean nearly as much as it did to the Humans. A lingering affection for another, the want and need to be close to someone, was what constructed the poorly defined "family" of Nations. Sharing similar origins, history or languages is the essentials that knit the Humans closer together, and therefore binding the Nation represents irrevocably as well. They weren't supposed to actually have family the way Humans did, but it was now Ciel realized it was this feeling of being able to return to a loving home was what she had wanted all this time.
If only it hadn't taken being trapped in a deranged Manor to realize it.
"I don't know where to begin." Another sob escaped her, and she closed her eyes just to take in Francis's beautiful voice. But it was dark underneath her eyelids, and she snapped them open just as quickly as she had shut them. The last thing she needed was more imminent black. "I just 'ope some... fortunate zings 'ave 'appened to you all so far. We might as well do somezing do savor our moment 'ere togezer, oui? W-what about cooking somezing? I see one of you took a 'ead start on finding ingredients. It can be just like it all was before."
"I was thinking that too," Ciel chose to focus instead on Matthew's irises. They were just as she remembered them; soft, always overflowing with compassion, and calming. She attempted to muffle her crying by taking steady breathes, but it wasn't doing much to help. There were plenty of tears available, due to its rarity, and there were no signs that it would be stopping anytime soon. "Not sure what we should make though."
There was an opportunity here, and Ciel would gratefully take it. Something nostalgic, reminiscent of the past, during the good old days -- the days when she was younger and ignorant. She could almost laugh at the irony; never would she thought a day when she desired ignorance, a hated enemy of hers. And yet, she was scared. Fear was controlling, she knew.
"Chocolatines," she finally said, accompanied by a hiccup, "we should make your chocolatines, frère."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2014 11:24:42 GMT -6
Any strained emotion on Monaco's part went by unnoticed by Seychelles, the island girl too caught up in the triumph of finding someone – her own family, nonetheless – to let anything penetrate the barrier of her own joy. Her face was positively glowing, the grin on her face only growing all the wider at the sound of another voice, one that she had grown to love since her days as a colony.
"You all… y-you all made it 'ere? All at once?"
That beautiful french accent, that endearingly silky voice made her head turn, and a single word escaped Seychelles' lips in a gleeful cry: "Papa!" For that's what he had been to her since the day he found her alone on her islands, through British reign and independence, and that was how she would always consider him in years to come. And perhaps he would rather she call him "brother" as Monaco did, but she could only ever regard him as a loving father, and thus could only bring herself to address him as such.
When France crossed the room and hugged them each, one at a time, Seychelles could barely contain her excitement as she bounced on the balls of her feet. They were all here, they were all together! It was just like a small reunion! But just as she felt France's arms, strong and warm, wrap around her shoulders, her smile was washed away with worry for the girl beside her upon noticing wet tracks on her cheeks.
"Ciel? Ciel, what's wrong?!" She was shocked. For as long as she had known Monaco, she had never once seen the girl cry. Tears were just something she had never associated with her cool and collected sister-figure, and to witness them pouring so unhindered flew a red flag in the back of Seychelles' mind. "Don't…don't cry, ser!" she wailed, a mild panic bubbling in her chest as she detangled herself from France's embrace to hold Monaco. "Everything's all right. We're all here! Are you hurt somewhere?" She cradled the girl's face in her hands and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with her thumbs, eyes scanning her person for any sign of injury. There was nothing to be found, however, and Seychelles was left with an overwhelming confusion and a lingering concern.
Turning to face the others for enlightenment and assistance, she noticed that France had tears in his eyes as well. "Mon Dye, everyone's crying!" Her gaze flickered to Canada, a silent plea for him to do something resounding in her mind. But when he didn't step forward, she patted Monaco's arm reassuringly and kissed her cheek, crossing over to dry her father's tears as well. "This is supposed to be a happy time!" she reminded them. "Why do you both look so sad?" Seychelles was filled with apprehension, dreading the answer. Monaco's sobs had been unsettling, but the addition of France's tears jarred her. Seychelles had always perceived both of them as very strong people. She had always looked to them as a source of inspiration, and if anything, believed it would be she who would turn to them for comfort if she were ever reduced to a sniveling mess. If they were both crying, either something horrible had happened, or something horrible was about to happen. She didn't want this moment to be ruined!
She cast another desperate glance in Canada's direction, and was relieved to find he wasn't nearly as troubled as the other two. Drawing strength from his composure, she stepped back to return to her place beside Monaco (just in case she still needed her) and smiled once again, though admittedly a less genuine and more strained smile than before. If the others couldn't be relied on as a stronghold, she would gladly assume the role. After all, it was her job to look on the bright side and be an uplifting light, wasn't it? Though she thought that the four of them being here together should have been uplifting enough…
The two men discussed cooking, and Seychelles contented herself draping an arm around Monaco and rubbing small circles into her back to calm her, regrettably drowning out their conversation. It wasn't so much that she didn't want to "savor their moment together," which she did very much, but because, as unversed in the culinary arts as she was, she regarded the topic as something she had no interest in. The question came up what they should make, when Monaco spoke up, her comment simultaneously surprising and relieving Seychelles.
"Chocolatines," she had said. "We should make your chocolatines, frère." Spoken words were an improvement from unintelligible blubbering, and because of this small reassurance, however trifling, Seychelles easily bounced back to the cheery spirits she possessed when she first entered the room. However, she made no move to separate from Monaco, and would refuse to do so unless explicitly asked by Monaco herself.
"I'll supervise!" Seychelles volunteered with a laugh, followed by an apologetic shrug and a sheepish grin. "Pardon, but you guys know as well as anyone that I don't cook." Regretfully, she had inherited her cooking abilities from England, so nothing that came from her kitchens would ever impress the rest of her family– those with French influence, anyway. She didn't mind, of course. She was perfectly happy to just be here surrounded by people she knew and loved, even if she couldn't join in on their fun. She would try her best not to be intrusive, and stay out of their way so as not to be a hindrance. If she was upset at all, it would be because the others were disappointed in her– to be honest, she was a little disappointed in herself that she had nothing of value to offer.
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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2014 14:25:43 GMT -6
Oh, no, don't you cry. If you do that, then I'll start to cry.
These emotions were contagious. There was an invisible link woven between the family. It was elegantly threaded and drove deeper than what was known to outsiders, far beyond that they were merely four nations and they all spoke the same language. And it might not have crossed any of their minds, but it existed so long as they stood together, so long as they thought of one another. It might be weak in the face of an attack, but strong enough that the four would offer what they could to protect each other. Francis, surely, would not desire that any fiend or monster came to separate them. Not when he had just found this happiness, however close or far it was to expiring.
Happiness was the other link between each of them. The word and its meaning alone floated from each corner of the kitchen, tossed in with feelings of grief, concern, fear... That was what made this so difficult. Francis wanted to feel happiness, he wanted the other three to feel happiness, but nothing of the sort would arrive as he wanted it. It just had to be fused with all of those other things, hadn't it? Happiness was bittersweet and ever dulled by the looming forces of the Manor, from which arose a cruel thought - this wouldn't be nearly the same if they were anywhere else. He could see these three regularly at each world meeting. Perhaps it was the distance between now and the last meeting that they had...? It occurred to Francis that they could have had this same reunion if he invited Canada, Monaco and Seychelles over more often. Then the happiness wold be absolutely genuine.
No grief and no fear. The sweetness, just like the pastries they all used to share and enjoy, would not be bitter. The four of them would depart at the end of the day and know that they will see one another soon. Francis never imagined that anyone in his family would abruptly disappear from his life. Things were always taken in much better stride than that. He still harbored strong feelings for each of his 'children', each of his siblings.
Here, standing not in the elegant kitchen of Francis's home but in the harrowing, incompatible kitchen of the Baudeau Manor, a goodbye would not ever ensure that they would so easily be reunited again, nor that they would even find each other alive. Hopefully a goodbye would never have to leave their lips, not in this moment. Hopefully nothing would come to take them away before they even had the chance to say it. Francis was aware that this was not the extent of family that each of them had. Wandering through the Manor were other people that they cared and worried for, but... but this alone was unimaginable and gratifying enough that he wanted only to bask in the presence of these three.
Seeing each of their reactions to his arrival - Angelique's exuberant exclamation of "Papa!", Ciel's more tentative and disbelieving approach of Francis's name, Matthew's quiet joy and feeling of belonging - he couldn't possibly have asked for anything better. Not that he would have expected otherwise, per say, but they were just so... relieved and overwhelmed to see him, letting him know that he wasn't the only one to receive such a rush of feelings. He wanted to thank them all just for that.
It was too late to say that Francis might start to cry. The tears that glistened in sapphire eyes were unlikely to retract now. A bat of his eyelashes would only cause them to spill, which accommodated the knot he was feeling in his throat. It was all part of his attempt not to actually weep, which proved to be faulty from the start. Between Matthew's and Angelique's glowing faces and the sobbing that rung, sweet and rare as it was, from Ciel, all of which collided to both break and warm Francis's heart, he still hardly knew how to keep himself together. He was mentally chiding himself into strong composure. These were three people whom he played a part in raising, whom he shared so many memories with, who belonged, in a way, to him (not that he was particularly possessive, though). Francis was feeling the need to be the elder figure that he was, but it more so seemed to be turning out that he was less composed than Matthew and Angelique were.
It seemed that he and Ciel were in the same boat, unconsciously thinking similar thoughts in regards to their standing as family and how different and warped everything felt in the Manor. Briefly, Francis's attention had focused on her. Angelique chimed in with trademark optimism, quick to try and console Ciel (as well as himself), Oh, it was so much better to hear their voices up close. What struck the most, however, was when the Seychelloise questioned: "This is supposed to be a happy time! Why do you both look so sad?"
How to respond to that? Francis's laugh was short and choked, his head weakly shaking. "We're 'appy enough zat we can't 'elp it, ma fafille," he offered. They could always count on Angelique being the cheeriest of the group. "I couldn't ever be sad to see any of you. Especially since you all seem un'armed." Hopefully those words contained no trace of pessimism, although it was bitterly clear that pessimism loomed like fine print. Francis smiled gratefully when Angelique wiped his tears for him, though it didn't help that his emotions were still so shaken.
"Sh...she's right," he then continued, swallowing. "No more crying for us. We'll all be alright." Please.
And, thankfully enough, his offer to cook something stood strong. None of them talked about what they had been through, what they had seen, what the Manor has done to them so far. And there was absolutely no need to. He would do his best to clear the dark clouds of their heads, pretend that there was nothing around them to be worrying about.
"We should make your chocolatines, frère," was the suggestion that stood out. Francis paused to look over at Ciel again, his jaws slightly parted. He must have heard correctly that Ciel used a word he'd always hoped to hear her say.
"I'll supervise!" Angelique continued before Francis had the chance to speak. Conscious of his own surprise, he looked quickly away to focus on the other two. "O-of course. Chocolatines. Zis will be a breeze. A-and I can tell you zat Matthieu used to adore zese when 'e was younger." Having shared that, Francis's eyes passed over toward said Canadian with a reminiscent smile. "Until I introduced zem to you two, of course."
Francis's throat cleared a second time, in one last endeavor to hold his promise (his indicated promise not to cry anymore, that was), and approached the counters in the room. The fingers of his hands were not entirely steady when they reached for the cabinets and the drawers provided by the kitchen, searching for the items that they would need.
"You don't 'ave to be out of ze way, Angelique. Zis might 'elp you learn, oui? I would enjoy all of you 'elping, of course." Finding everything wouldn't be the easiest thing, he imagined, because this wasn't a place which any of them were familiar with, but at least he - and perhaps the others as well - knew what ingredients they needed. Flour, eggs, milk, water, sugar, plentiful butter, salt, chocolate. Plus the utensils, of course.
He wanted something else to say to them. It already felt that it would be difficult to try and discuss things without the horrors of the Manor arising in conversation, but Francis was far too determined to continue hearing their sweet voices. "Have any of you.. found anyone else so far..? T-taken enough rest so zat I don't 'ave to fret over you? I want to 'ear good zings, is all."
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Post by Deleted on Jun 26, 2014 1:36:55 GMT -6
Matthew wasn't completely sure why he didn't go immediately to comfort Ciel. It was his job after all, to comfort people in need. Especially his family. Perhaps he was still struggling to fully comprehend that his family was here and with him.
Luckily Seychelles stepped up to fill his role. She rushed over to comfort Ciel and wipe her tears away. "This is a happy time!" she chided, her voice shaking Matthew out of his temporary stupor. "Why do you both look so sad?"
"We're 'appy enough zat we can't 'elp it, ma fafille." Matthew bit his lip at Francis' words. That couldn't be the whole truth. There was something different about Francis...and Ciel. "I couldn't ever be sad to see any of you. Especially since you all seem un'armed." Francis' tone seemed light, but there was almost something heavy to his words. Was Matthew reading too much into it? Perhaps...
"Sh...she's right. No more crying for us. We'll all be alright." Matthew hoped so. Francis was a strong man, they were all strong people. Francis had raised them well. They would make it through whatever they had experienced.
Matthew looked over at Francis, then back to Ciel and he wondered what exactly the two of them had been through. Clearly more than either he or Angelique had...it chilled him. What had broken his father like this?
Finally, Ciel managed to speak up. "Chocolatines. We should make your chocolatines, frère." Matthew smiled softly at her.
"Something sweet, yes," he said, finally finding his voice. Chocolatines would be absolutely perfect.
"O-of course. Chocolatines. Zis will be a breeze. A-and I can tell you zat Matthieu used to adore zese when 'e was younger." Francis smiled at him and Matthew felt a pleasant warmth rush through him again, of being acknowledged. He had missed his Papa, yes he had.
"You don't 'ave to be out of ze way, Angelique. Zis might 'elp you learn, oui? I would enjoy all of you 'elping, of course." Already, Matthew could feel Francis shifting back into being...well, Francis. It seemed like it was easier on the man when he was talking to Angelique to brighten up. It was almost impossible not to, of course.
Matthew searched the kitchen to help Francis find the ingredients he knew they would need. Halfway through it though, he left his search and went to go give Ciel a hug. He wouldn't feel right leaving the comforting completely to Angelique.
"Come help us with the chocolatines, Ciel," he coaxed gently. "They'll make you feel better."
"Have any of you.. found anyone else so far..? T-taken enough rest so zat I don't 'ave to fret over you? I want to 'ear good zings, is all." Francis seemed hesitant and worried, as if fearing what they had found while wandering through the Manor.
"No..." Matthew replied, shaking his head. "I haven't seen anyone at all." There was a trace of wistfulness in his voice that Matthew was surprised slipped through. He forced it out, not wanting Francis to worry. "But it hasn't been bad. I've had Kumi—I mean Kuma—with me this whole time. I don't know how long we've been here though. I'd rest but I'm not particularly tired."
"How about the rest of you?" It was a dangerous topic, Matthew realized, to continue along. After all, who knew what the rest of them had been through? Maybe not Angelique, but he somehow doubted that Ciel and Francis wanted to recount their travels...
The light began flickering and Matthew's gaze went upwards as he frowned. He could probably change it if he could find a spare lightbulb but then...
And then it went dark.
Matthew loosened his arm around Ciel and he felt panic start to slip into him. No. No panicking. He was fine. The light had just gone off...if it didn't turn back on they were in the kitchen, there was definitely a match somewhere around here and he was with his family, they'd be fine...
The light flickered back on and Matthew sighed inwardly in relief.
The relief only lasted a brief moment as Matthew looked around to make sure everyone was there. Francis, Angelique, Kuma, Cie...
Ciel.
"Ciel?" Matthew spun around in place. There was worry in his voice that he tried to keep away but couldn't help. "Ciel?" he called again. He went to the doorway. Had she panicked and run? He hadn't heard anything when it went dark. Matthew stepped into the hallway to look for her but she was gone.
"Ciel!" He called one more time, this time the panic in his voice evident. "Ciel!"
Matthew swallowed as he whipped his head back to look at Francis and Angelique desperately. For the first time in the Manor, Matthew felt fear. His heart pounded in his chest. Where was she? Where was she where was she where was she? Calm down Matthew. No, no he couldn't...where was she?
"I...I can't find her."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 18, 2014 15:45:07 GMT -6
"We're 'appy enough zat we can't 'elp it, ma fafille." The soft reassurances and endearing pet names did little to ease Seychelles' suspicions. Her mind flickered back to the dark thoughts she had as she wandered alone, to the blunt revelation that there was more to this place than met the eye. "…Especially since you all seem un'armed." His words were nothing out of the ordinary. After all, it was a common concern to want your family to be well, wasn't it? Under any other circumstances, Seychelles would have accepted his explanation as it was and brushed the topic aside. She trusted France to tell the truth, so if he said everything was okay, everything was okay. However, having seen the tears in his eyes, she couldn't help but wonder: had he been expecting something else? If he was crying because he was so happy they were okay, wouldn't that mean his relief had to stem from a very real danger that threatened them all? Seychelles hadn't seen much in her stay here, the worst of it being the confusing floor plan, which, for the time being at least, was no immediate threat to her. So what could have France so worried?
"Sh…she's right. No more crying for us. We'll all be alright." The words were choked, strangled by emotion. Seychelles couldn't help but betray the worry in her eyes as she quietly replied as confidently as she could.
"Of course we will." Why wouldn't they be? They were all together, and they were all in good health. It was too disconcerting to dwell on the contradictory, so she pushed these thoughts from her mind and switched focus to more cheerful ones. It was admittedly easier, as Francis seemed to brighten up just a little the longer he was in this room. But who wouldn't cheer up when surrounded by people who you cared about and cared for you? He still seemed the slightest bit uneasy as he made his way about the room to search the kitchen for cooking supplies, but at least he was no longer crying, and even managed a small smile (which was such a relief for Seychelles to see. Sadness just didn't suit his face!).
"You don't 'ave to be out of ze way, Angelique," France said, inviting her to help in a soft, coaxing tone. "Zis might 'elp you learn, oui? I would enjoy all of you 'elping, of course." Of course, how could she say no if he himself said he'd appreciate her helping? If it truly was his wish, she couldn't say no. Anything to make him happy, right?
"Oui, Papa!" she said with all the cheerful devotion of an obedient daughter. He made it so clear to her: it didn't matter that she wasn't a good cook. All that mattered was that she was there with them, participating in any way that she could. He wanted everyone together with this. Without any more hesitation, Seychelles sprung forward to wander the kitchen in search of supplies alongside France and Canada. As she wasn't sure quite what she was looking for, she admittedly trailed behind one or the other, completely lost and out of her element. Eventually, though, she got an idea. They would need a bowl for mixing…right? Poking about the cabinets, she found one that she decided was big enough, and held it up for France to verify.
"Come help us with the chocolatines, Ciel," Canada's soft voice sounded. Seychelles couldn't help but smile her relief at the two, locked in an embrace. It was comforting, knowing they all had each other. They'd all make sure everyone was well taken care of.
"Have any of you…found anyone else so far…? T-taken enough rest so zat I don't 'ave to fret over you?"
Seychelles just smiled at France's concern. He wanted to make sure they were okay, and she was. It wasn't hard at all to assure him so. Canada was okay too, so he said in his reply. His experience here, while solitary and not particularly cheery, hadn't been unpleasant either.
"How about the rest of you?"
"I haven't seen much of anyone either," she admitted with a shrug. "I ran into one of Arthur's brothers, but that was a long, long, looong time ago." She fingered the edges of the bowl she was holding, eyes rolled up to look at the ceiling as she tried to recall just how that encounter had ended. It was difficult, as so many hours of lonely wandering lay between that meeting and the present. "This place is confusing, isn't it?" she remarked casually. "The hallways are all mixed up and it doesn't make sense to me. Too easy to get lost!" She wasn't particularly disturbed by it, of course. Maybe she had been at one point, but here in the kitchen among her family, it felt like a far away issue that no longer had much significance to her. She never said whether or not she had rested at all, but if her carefree disposition was anything to go by, it was safe to assume that she was fine.
There was very little warning for what happened next. A brief flickering, a momentary silence, and then suddenly Seychelles was engulfed in darkness. The sudden absence of light was startling enough to elicit a shriek from the island girl. The bowl she was holding clattered noisily to the floor, and her head whipped back and forth, trying to find something, anything, even if it was just a feint outline of the kitchen she was in moments before.
"Papa?" she called out anxiously, hoping everyone was still there, despite the fact she could no longer perceive anyone. Perhaps just a tad irrationally, she was terrified that she might be suddenly alone. After all, that's what happened last time the lights went off, wasn't it? They turned back on, and she was alone in a new and unfamiliar place. What if it was happening again? It wasn't fair! She had finally found someone, and now she was being torn apart from them? But they had only just been reunited! "Mattie? Ciel? Guys?!" Her voice was more desperate now, reaching in front of her hoping with all her heart to grasp one of the three. Accidentally, she kicked the bowl she dropped, and it slid across the floor. Luckily, her panic was short-lived. As quickly as the lights had gone off, they switched back on. Without a second thought, she latched onto France's arm, all at once relieved that everyone was still in the room, and paranoid that next time she wouldn't be so lucky.
…or…IS everyone still here? Something didn't feel right. What was missing?
"Ciel?"
Seychelles' blood ran cold.
"Ciel!" The panic was clear in Canada's voice as he whirled around, trying to find their suddenly missing sister. Seychelles had been able to keep a cool head earlier because of Canada's composure, but now that even he was losing it… And why wouldn't he? Monaco had just up and disappeared! Where did she go? Was she just transported to another place, or had she simply ceased to exist? She had seemed so upset before. She was probably horrified, wherever she was. Gripping tighter to the arm she held onto, Seychelles face contorted to express her distress.
"CIEL!" She had to look for her. Wherever she was, she couldn't be too far. But she was scared. She was afraid to let go of France's arm. What if he disappeared next? What if she did? Canada left the room, and the anxiety hit Seychelles like a bucket of cold water. "Mattie, come back!" She couldn't see him, and it made her nervous. She didn't want him disappearing either. Her breath stopped, and she could swear her heart did as well until he reappeared in the doorway. However, she still could not breathe easy. Not when his eyes were full of fear, and he was breathing hard from the panic.
"I…I can't find her," he admitted, defeat clouding his voice. Seychelles suddenly found it much harder to maintain her happy disposition.
"No, she…she has to be all right," she held stubbornly. "She was probably just taken somewhere else– that happens here, right? We can find her again, we just have to look for her!" Still, she showed no desire to move, keeping a firm grip on France's arm, fingers clinging perhaps a little too tightly. Though who could blame her in a situation like this? She reached a hand out to Canada, longing to hold onto him too. Maybe it would help, maybe it wouldn't. She just knew that after what just happened, she couldn't stand to lose either of them. She needed to feel them both, make sure they were still there, make sure they weren't going anywhere. "We'll look for her together. Everything will be all right!" Even if it took days with the hallways as twisted as they were. Seychelles had finally found her family, and she wouldn't let them be separated so easily.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2014 9:04:56 GMT -6
While gathering the ingredients and utensils which they'd be needing, he listened for those responses from Ciel, Angelique and Matthew. It pleased him to have each of them helping and working alongside him, and the sounds of their hands fishing through cabinets were rather calming for Francis to hear. Insert the slosh of pouring wine and the wafting scent of baked goods and it would all feel just like home. The Canadian's soft and silken voice reached out first, albeit to deliver a word that Francis was not hoping to hear: "No. I haven't seen anyone at all."
Well, he could soldier through that. He wanted to believe that the Canadian spoke truthfully when he said it hasn't been bad. If things truly weren't bad for the three of them, then yes, Francis would be content and well-assured. As for himself and the progress he's made, he wouldn't dare to consider such optimistic words. He caught an embrace out of the corner of his eye. A heavy pressure was lifted from the Frenchman's heart, if only momentarily.
"I haven't seen much of anyone either," began Angelique's voice, no more promising than what Matthew had to share. Francis's smile twitched at the sound of Arthur's name. He had yet to run into any brothers himself, and he should only hope that they hadn't decide to give Angelique strife.
"I see," murmured Francis, listening as the Seychelloise rambled on. "I don't suppose it matters whezer we've seen anyone. Zey always 'ave a funny way of disappearing, mm? Separation, getting lost... at least I can say I've seen quite a few ozers so far." A flickering light did not deserve the Frenchman's notice. He was hovering over what he had gathered, carrying them over to the bowl that Angelique had found. As soon as everything was prepared, he figured she'd like the task of mixing. Perhaps they could all take turns mixing. Four people should be just enough to make sure that the chocolatines don't burn in the oven - they were also a perfect number for taste testing.
If only. A desperate Francis was of course too stubborn to acknowledge that this was all doomed from the start. A lasting good time in the manor? It was a laughable notion, but he couldn't help his yearning for it. He and his darlings deserved it. Monsters that resided here might only wish to laugh at them.
Four nations were swallowed soundlessly into darkness. Pitch black prodded Francis's vision wherever he looked - his head was tilted backward, eyes drawn to the faulty light bulb which he could no longer see. "Papa?" called one voice. Between the edgy tone of Angelique and the complete silence from the other two, Francis didn't know which was worse. His head turned and blindly faced the source of Angelique's voice - his lips were thinly parted, a hand jutted forward in search of someone. "H-hey. Don't move, don't panic - we're 'ere." This was an awful American horror sprung to life. It took effort not to sound so disturbed - the last thing his family needed, perhaps Angelique most of all, was to hear Francis afraid. Their trek might feel utterly hopeless if that were to happen. Who would be their strong vice then? None of them were in the right mind to keep one another composed, really.
The younger girl found that outstretched arm of Francis's. The light was blaring upon its return. Eyelashes went batting to clear away its overbearing effect, but much stronger a concern was the condition of the other three. That pressure upon Francis's heart returned, making each beat feel like a heavy flutter. Sapphire went frantically searching for a missing face, listening to each of Matthew's desperate calls. No, no.
They were scrambling, distancing themselves from Francis's reach. His jaw was slack but he didn't know where to begin - his first instinct was to follow after Matthew. A hand reached to clutch at the rapier upon an opposite hip, preparing himself in case danger showed its face. "I... I can't find her."
"You.. y-you did your best. Zat's alright, we'll just 'ave to--" The Frenchman brushed past both bodies to do his own searching. His head turned left and right, squinting down that dark corridor to check whether his vision served him any better. Ciel's desertion was undoubtedly the work of an unseen offender. Of course the manor had countless entities which (most of) the nations couldn't see. He could curse himself for his inability.
Angelique's words were nearly unheard. Francis's gaze lowered to the floor in an effort of self-composure, swallowing. Their last hope for bonding lay strewn about in that kitchen behind them - a bowl on the floor, scattered ingredients that, when finished, would have promised a favorite delicacy of theirs. Ignore that knot in your throat, Francis, and the sweat upon your face - you can't let Angelique be the only optimistic one here. "Of course it happens," the Frenchman finally spoke, waving a hand in mild irritation. The smile forced onto his face expressed otherwise. His having to kill Indonesia wasn't enough for satisfying entertainment, was it? "Zat's zeir definition of fun. We'll look and will not stop until we do find her. I suggest we do not separate and we begin upstairs - zose rooms in which zey usually like to keep us."
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