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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Jul 2, 2008 10:15:53 GMT -5
Maxim paused a moment, smoothed out his coat, and cleared his throat.
Then, he laughed. “Hahaha. Oh, Mister Kazin, how you jest,” he said, before folding his arms across his chest. “However, such talk will not be permitted so close to the mayor. We cannot have death threats to such a happy man, so willing to change this city for the better. I am going to have to ask that you leave immediately. I'm sure that you're assistant, whoever she is, can pick you up right outside. I will have one of my associates stand out there with you, if you desire.”
He smiled politely at Kazin, before turning around. At the side of the room stood a very tall man, whom Maxim motioned over. “Bosco,” he said, pointing at Jeun, “This is Jeun Kazin. Jeun Kazin, this is Bosco. Jeun requires that you escort him outside, Bosco, and then wait with him there, so that he does not become lonely.”
Bosco nodded solemnly, and extended a hand towards Jeun equally solemnly. “I am Bosco,” he said, not noticing that Maxim had already introduced him, and then smiled. “Let us go outside, Mister Kazin.”
Nodding with satisfaction at a job well done, Maxim turned around before he could comment any further. On his way back to Antoine, a woman put a hand on his arm. He smiled, and she gestured at Antoine. “I believe that is the mayor, and I must have a word with him!”
“Of course,” Maxim said, trying to not be too grim. She was gorgeous, after all.
He walked back towards Antoine, who looked bored as hell, and put a hand on his shoulder. “No need to bother Mister Dixon's subordinate any longer, Antoine. Now you have to meet this lovely lady,” he said, and cleared his throat, “Head librarian.” She was much better looking than her title might suggest.
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Jul 7, 2008 20:35:14 GMT -5
There was an odd, somewhat awkward moment as Juen watched Maxim exit. It was quite clear he was using great restraint in order not to run after the man and slash his throat open.
"Change for the better," he muttered, sneering at the man's back, "That's what Theophilus called it. A change for the better."
He quickly snapped back to reality and looked at the man he'd been introduced to and smiled, shaking the man's hand, "Basco, pleasant to make your acquaintance," he said cordially, "Yes, I believe my leaving would be beneficial to all." He nodded to Basco and gave one last glare at the Mayor and Maxim, before out to the front of the house to wait for Zahra. He did not bother to see is Basco was going to follow him.
It was unlikely that anyone, no matter their species or stature, was going to be able to stop him if he was really intent on taking lives.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Aug 1, 2008 1:57:00 GMT -5
Zahra pulled up in what could only be called a makeshift taxi: she had obviously flagged down some young person from the side of the road and told him to drive her to the party, whereupon she let him drive off, since she was not about to let Jeun near any humans who she might be able to extort things from at a later date (more rides, maybe).
She hopped out of the car after giving the man a sort of lingering look, and then trotted gleefully up the stairs and into the party. Once inside, she wheeled around and came right back out, to stand next to Jeun. Her smile took up nearly all of her face, and she pointed to the party. "Come on, Jeun! We've got no time to waste! I so rarely get invited to parties these days that it is quite the misfortune."
Of course, by rarely invited she meant that she only went to one to three parties a week. It was, after all, hard to get to know new people in a big city like Shawl, but somehow she managed to get by.
"Jeun, it'll only be for a minute, and I'll be right by your side, ready to run away if you start to get all freaky or whatever."
Meanwhile, Maxim was twiddling his thumbs, and waiting for Antoine to talk, and in his mind there were only thoughts of "Antoine had better start talking", and "I hope Antoine isn't thinking about toast", and a hint of"I hope Antoine didn't eat all the toast".
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Aug 4, 2008 10:30:32 GMT -5
Jeun, who had taken up a post sitting on the front steps examining his claws, experimentally stretching and curling his hands and making marks on the edges of the steps to test how sharp they were. It was a shame he hadn't gotten the chance to use them on those horrible people who were throwing the party, he'd found that a light trail across their throats would have been more than enough to have killed them.
He glanced up as his employee walked past him, then waited and watched as she came back and spoke to him.
He gave her a tired smile and shook his head, "I apologize, Lady Halim," he said, leaning back on his hands, "But unfortunately I have been banished from their gathering. I lost the element of surprise, I'm afraid." He sighed and then smiled at her again, "But you may go and enjoy yourself, my lady."
There was something entirely different about his tone. A low, mellow key to it that was very much out of character for the informant. Part of this may have been that he was speaking in ancient egyptian. Regardless the effect was that he sounded like an entirely different person than the one who had left the party.
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Aug 15, 2008 23:45:48 GMT -5
Antoine beamed. She was pretty. She was young. She was intelligent. (Not that it mattered.) He extended a hand. He'd been enjoying the company of the detective who was undeniably less uptight and less interesting in him than this woman appeared to be. Just like Maxim to shove aside a perfectly nice fellow— But he was hardly to be blamed. It was hard to keep Antoine's attention for long. He was just trying to ensure that the evening went off without a hitch. "How absolutely charming to meet you."
His eyes sidled over to Maxim, watching to see if he had responded correctly. Was he supposed to like her? He was being so careful with his accent, but women liked French accents, but he was supposed to be all American. Was he all right? He gave Maxim a slight smile as he clasped the woman's offered hand warmly. It was small and cold and fragile, and it wasn't trembling. There had been a time when he had made girls tremble. Ah, well. He gave her a slow smile and squeezed her hand. He was rewarded with a slight quiver. That was what he was talking about. He was a fellow who made women swoon.
"Can I get you something to drink?" he said brightly. His voice sparkled up an octave, and he knew without looking that Maxim was not pleased. Heteronormativity, heteronormativity, ommm. She looked slightly astonished for a moment —she probably didn't drink— and then agreed twitteringly. All right, maybe that was a little too much tremble. He would have to tone it down a little. He combed his fingers through the thick wave of his golden hair, left out of its characteristic curl for the evening. If they had been in the nineteenth century, he thought, she probably would have swooned. As it was, she giggled. He rolled his eyes at Maxim. "You know, I believe we have a lovely champagne. From France. That's where Maxim was born, you know? It makes him terribly charming."
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Aug 17, 2008 14:06:43 GMT -5
Zahra stared at Jeun for a moment. "...right." With that, she patted his head, and glided on inside, ready to have some fun. Well, she wasn't really expecting to have fun, but she was expecting to find some free food and drinks, and maybe some strapping young man with a car who would drive her home. Or a strapping young cat...
She spotted several trays of snack-like food, several old men with grey hair, and several men with impressive mustaches. But men with mustaches either had motorcycles (which messed up her hair), or had wives who were with them. There was one particularly lonely-looking man at the fringes of the party, and she sidled over to him, intent on extorting a ride so that she didn't have to walk home Mr. Crazy. Of course, as soon as she got close, she saw a different woman edging towards him, and promptly gave up her search.
There was no loud music at this party, and although there was a small cluster of handsome-esque young men (and it was young by her standards), she was already bored. She went outside, and then spotted a rather large man who seemed to be standing guard over Jeun. "Well," she said, eyeing the man, but speaking to Jeun, "Couldn't get a ride. We'll have to call a taxi, or walk. And walking will involve quite a lot of you carrying me."
---
Maxim did feel a little bad for making Antoine go through this whole process, but it was an integral part of the mayorship, meeting people and ensuring them that yes, he did have a good reputation, and no, his hair was not fake. But, of course, he also knew that Antoine didn't mind meeting pretty young people, and that a few meetings like that might make the evening worth standing through.
Of course, he didn't really want Antoine getting too friendly with the townsfolk, but there wasn't really anything he could do or say in such a public situation. If they were at a dinner, he could stomp on Antoine's foot, maybe. But standing...
He peeked over at the two, trying to make it look like he wasn't watching them, but instead, scoping out the crowd. He peeked over just in time to hear Antoine's voice inch towards a warble. His eyes narrowed a little, and he was about to clear his throat, but he held back, and managed not to. He was hoping, hoping against hope, that some dull, sniffling old member of council would approach either him or Antoine and ask to be introduced.
Terribly charming. Hah.
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Post by Camille Desmoulins on Aug 18, 2008 10:13:12 GMT -5
Jeun stared at Zahra for a moment, blinking in surprise. "Zahra? When did you get here?" he asked, now speaking in english again and seemingly back to his normal self (or what passed for it these days). He stood up and shook his head slowly, "No matter," he said briskly, brushing some of the dust off his suit and nodding to the bear-like man who had been charged with keeping guard over him. He liked neither (the suit and the guard) but both were only doing their jobs and he was not going to treat them badly because of it.
The sphinx started down the steps. "Lets walk. There is too great a chance I'll loose control in a taxi and kill the driver. Especially if he'd talkative," he said, then smiled back at her to make light of the situation, "Anyways, the exercise is good for us. People are far too too dependent on motorized transportation these days, everyone would be much better off doing much more walking."
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Aug 24, 2008 23:00:54 GMT -5
Antoine, with the woman's blessing, skirted off to get her a drink. Well, she didn't know that there were servers he could hail. He scoped out the room. There was a gaggle of chatting townspeople in front of the kitchen. That was out. Besides, that'd be the first place Maxim would start looking, and Maxim would start looking soon. He was an expert Antoine-finder, having had many years of practice. The stairs in the hallway outside the parlor were conveniently blocked off to stop any citizen from wandering up into their home. (Well, they had billed it as His Honor Mr de Ginvillione's home, but he shared it with Maxim. For some reason, Maxim had seemed to think they ought not to mention it.)
He eyed the room. Exit to the hallway, and the only escape would be the bathroom. He could struggle through to the kitchen, but that seemed doubtful. Well, then, that made his hiding place fairly obvious. Slipping around the crowds, Antoine darted into the broom closet. It was completely dark. Closets, after all, didn't need light switches. He leaned against the back wall and contemplated the single line of light and the noise from the party outside.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Aug 25, 2008 12:00:04 GMT -5
Jeun's manner confused Zahra, and she twisted her face into a frown and said so. "You're confusing me now, Jeun," she said, letting a bit of a pout sit on her face. She knew that it wouldn't make Jeun any less confusing, but it was a habit, because it worked well with most human males. The Pout, as she sometimes called it, was useful for many things. A simple 'May I hitch a ride with you?' turned into an adorable girl with all the charms of a hungry cat who just wanted to get across town without getting blisters on her feet.
She didn't bother to erase The Pout, because there were still some males walking in and out of the party (and some females too, but they were less likely to be swayed by her feminine wiles). "Bosco, you said his name was?" she asked Jeun quietly, and then turned to the muscly bodyguard. "Thank you, Bosco," she said, batting her eyelashes and smiling charmingly (everything seemed charming when you were a cat), "Without you, my boss would have wreaked mayhem upon this poor party! Do wish the mayor a happy coronation for me."
With that, she turned away from Bosco and walked down the steps. "I walk everywhere, Jeun," she said, hoping that the sphinx was keeping up. "I only hitched a ride today because you said it was an 'emergency'. Which, by the way, I don't believe one bit. You've controlled your manly urges for a couple thousand years, I'm sure you can control them for a few more."
-----
Maxim smiled with satisfaction as Antoine offered to get the librarian a drink. Then, they were silent for a few moment, and in that moment, Maxim's smile sank into a frown. There was no call for champagne, or juice, or whatever else they were serving at this party. Maxim couldn't remember anymore, and really, it didn't seem to matter at the moment.
Antoine had gone off somewhere, and he didn't know where, and this was just not good, not good at all. He turned around, from where he had been scoping the crowd, and noticed that not only was Antoine gone, but the Head Librarian was gone too.
Oh, this was beyond not good, it was just bad, and getting worse by the moment. Women couldn't resist Antoine's wiles! There was just no way! He had to find Antoine, and he had to find him fast.
Maxim stopped for a moment, managing to compose his face (as there were obviously many people paying close attention to it) as he wondered where Antoine might have gone. There were many people in front of the kitchen, and while that might be one of the places Antoine might think of, and while Antoine was very skilled at moving through a crowd, there was no way that he could have gone there as quickly as he obviously had. So then, where? The stairs were all corded off, there was nowhere to go in the halls except the bathroom, and there was no way Antoine would hide in there. Not that it wasn't clean, but hiding in the bathroom could only be a very temporary measure. And Antoine wouldn't be mingling with the crowd. No, he would find somewhere dark, small, and preferably filled with soft things.
Maxim set off, making sure to answer all questions pertaining to Antoine with a "Oh, the mayor, he has only just stepped out to get some fresh air. He will be back very soon, I am sure." He didn't manage to hide his French accent, and it was likely that some of the guests didn't completely understand him, but they caught the words 'mayor', and 'soon', and really, wasn't that enough?
After escaping from the crowd, Maxim walked straight towards the broom closet, which he opened and slipped in: talking to the closet would surely only tarnish the mayor's reputation. Him going inside it might suggest that he needed some time alone?
There was no light inside the closet, and Maxim didn't bother checking to see if he was in the right closet. "Merde, Antoine. Do you always have to go sneaking off into closets? All you have to do tonight is meet people! I know it is boring, but come on. If you come out, you can throw a bigger party next week. One with loud music and flashing lights..." He had reverted to French, and so hopefully, if it wasn't Antoine in the closet, then whoever it was wouldn't understand him.
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Sept 5, 2008 23:07:24 GMT -5
Inside the closet, Antoine froze in horrified anticipation. Who would ever guess he was in a broom closet? It was just him and a bunch of mops, so they weren't coming in coincidentally. The door was open just long enough so that he could recognize the sillhouette of his friend against the bright lights of the party. Antoine broke into an unapologetic grin, which he was glad that Maxim could not see. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I felt a touch overwhelmed. I thought that the silence, the darkness, the isolation might calm me and prepare me to reemerge into the midst of my adoring citizens."
"Besides, it was a good excuse to find myself with you in a closet, no?" He draped his arms around Maxim's more felt than seen neck and kissed his cheek. He laughed. "Why do I need a bigger party? What use is that here? You will say, Antoine, don't step out of line, don't say anything wrong, don't betray yourself! Antoine, behave. Antoine, this, Antoine, that. You are becoming very little fun, Maxim. Do you know that? You are an absolute spoilsport of the first class. You've probably got degrees in it."
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Sept 12, 2008 23:24:12 GMT -5
"All right, all right," Maxim said, well, muttered. They were in a closet, after all. He didn't want partygoers who wanted a piece of Antoine finding them in here. And he especially didn't want partygoers who wanted a piece of each other in this closet. In fact, he plain didn’t want anyone walking into that closet while they were in there.
"Yes, yes, excuses, whatever." Maxim adjusted his tie, and cleared his throat. He hadn’t really paid attention to Antoine, since he was busy watching the door, but years of being with Antoine had given him fantastic multitasking skills, even when he was distracted. “Haha, yes, I am on your back, etcetera, etcetera. No, Antoine,” Maxim said, raising an eyebrow before he realized that it was dark, and therefore very redundant. “I do not plan to be at this party. But you certainly can be. In fact, the party is a must. The people of this city must see how fun-loving their mayor is. They must see the real Antoine, because if they don’t, then how will they know that they can come to you for anything? No, Antoine, if this party does not go down, I fear that you will be voted out of office by...whatever it is that offices here are measured in.”
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Post by Fabre d'Eglantine on Sept 17, 2008 23:40:39 GMT -5
Kyle wasn't quite looking forward to this party. Never had been looking forward to anything of the sort. As he came to it, he considered going back home or to work several times. Even now, as he entered the home, he found that he had mae a terrible decision. Sure, everyone was invited. So what? Kyle had been told many times that he ruined the fun, and that hardly had any effect on the officer. Just confirmed his thoughts that he was not meant to do these things, and he already knew that.
He decided to stick to the side, for the moment. Possibly to come up with an excuse to leave, possibly just to try and adjuts his attitude so he at least looked like he wanted to be here. That was a lie. His attempts failed and he just stood there, watching people. It was actually a bit creepy. He seemed to stare, his light blue eyes studying each person, getting a good look at the sort of people who would come to this sort of thing. He knew he wouldn't find any of his unfriendly 'friends' here. Moore like, any suspects. At least, he believed they wouldn't come to this thing. He sighed, messing again with his shirt.
"Ugh... Why can't I just be working!?" The officer growled, giving in with getting anything to feel comfortable. "This is so annoying. I won't even talk to this guy anyways, so why did they even tell me to come." He muttered, complaining to himself. Not too unusual, given he had a lot to complain about. "Oh yeah. So I could be 'social' and 'get to know people'. Oh yeah. That sounds like a lot of fun!" He noticed his voice had gotten louder, and he quickly stopped, looking down at his shirt again.
"Stupid parties, stupid friends... The whole thing is stupid some times!" He complained, again raising his voice, pacing for a second, then stopping himself. He had to look calm. At least look it, even though he wasn't calm or happy one bit. He just wanted to get home. "Get some sleep, get some food, get up for work in the morning. Yes! Sounds like a great plan!" He said, with a fake smile as he glanced at the door. Of course, it would be more than his usual if he walked out already. Rude, more than was expected from him.
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Post by Maximilien Robespierre on Sept 18, 2008 19:13:41 GMT -5
"All right," Antoine snapped, "all right. You've made your point. I'll go chat with the populace." He added, "I think you're overestimating how much they care, Maxim. After this, they'll forget I'm here." He pursed his lips. "Until, well— Why don't we go down to Mexico for a weekend? I could use a vacation after all these people." He sighed dramatically and wiped a hand across his brow. What I would do for a weekend home. "And why don't you pick up a dry white and a nice cheese and we'll drag our toes in the sea?" Antoine could see the beach at Toulon, where he had once seen ships of the line readying for war, with its colorful spread of people and beach blankets and its briny smell of sea.
And then he thought of Calais and it was gone.
He shoved Maxim to the side with little trouble and swished out of the closet. He knew that that was his chance to make an escape; Maxim wouldn't dare leave for several minutes. Regretfully, he skirted around the side of the room, making for the dining room and canapes. A quick snack, and he'd find someone to talk to for a few minutes. He flicked a ringlet out of his eyes and swiped a champagne flute from a server, swallowing it in one inelegant gulp. Finding the table in the midst of the swarm of people, he picked up a plate, dropped a few olives onto it, considered eating them, and reemerged into the foyer.
There was a man talking to himself.
He knew what Maxim would have said and done. He'd seen Jeun out the door. Well, Antoine wasn't nearly so banal or simplistic or fool-hardy. The madder the better. At least, they gave this little California town some color. He flashed the man a smile, and switching back into English, said, "Hello."
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Post by Fabre d'Eglantine on Sept 18, 2008 19:46:04 GMT -5
Kyle looked up. Great. Someone was talking to him. Not just any someone either. The officer immediately straightened himself out, pushing away any thoughts of leaving. For the moment. "Hello." He repeated, thinking over something to do. Maybe an excuse to leave? No. That would be rude. Well, he figured he'd start simple. An introduction of himself would seem right. At least his name. Though, he considered leaving out the fact that he was an officer.
"I am Kyle..." He finally said, after a few moments of hesitation. Now what? He hated these things. Meeting new people. He wasn't too good at keeping a conversation going with a complete stranger. Hopefully he could keep this one up. Most likely would if he tried enough. It would be pushing it a bit, but possible. Now what to say? He drew a blank as he thought about that. He could leave it with his name. That just seemed... Too simple. The policeman sighed. "I'm... A police officer for the city... If that even matters any..."
His lack of social skills bugged him. He just didn't know what to do or say. Often not speaking enough to keep a person talking to him, or he would start mumbling and speaking too much. Or, he'd just listen and learn things he shouldn't. Either way, he found that he never seemed to get things right with it. For now, he would just have to see how it worked. Possibly this other man wouldn't mind him.
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Post by Louis de Saint-Just on Sept 21, 2008 19:55:11 GMT -5
After Antoine stormed out, Maxim was forced to wait.
He managed the first two minutes alright, but then it dawned on him that Antoine could be getting up to all sorts of unspeakable antics while he was stuck here, in this closet. Why, he could be out there right now, dancing on one of the tables! It was unlikely, of course, but who could tell exactly what Antoine would do?
Maxim decided that it was just about time for him to burst out of the closet. He did so, in a sneaky fashion, and nearly ran into Mister Browning, who immediately looked guilty. "I wasn't, you know, or anything," he stammered, and Maxim nodded. "Of course," he muttered, only realizing once he had walked past Mister Browning that he hadn't switched to English.
Oh well. So the Defense Minister didn't think he could speak English. It wasn't as if that was a big deal: They all knew that Antoine could, and that was all that mattered. Speaking of Antoine, Maxim couldn't spot him for a moment. Then, the man holding the delightful snack foods walked off, and Antoine came into view. And he was talking to someone...
Maxim leaned back to avoid a tray of champagne, and walked towards Antoine decidedly. Why couldn't he just sit still for a moment? It wasn't that hard to do, and oh, they had things that needed doing, like finding Mr. Gertz and promoting him and getting the police force whipped bak in shape, and...
Maxim arrived at Antoine's side, and frowned at the man in front of them. "Kyle?" he asked, and then his face lit up. "Monsieur Gertz! How lovely it is to see you here! Monsieur Ginvillione and I were talking about you only the other day."
He looked over at Antoine, and put a hand on the shoulder closest to him. "Isn't that right?"
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