En Français

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En Français

Post by Batman on Thu May 15, 2014 2:19 am

The evening sky above Paris, France played host to an infinitely expansive grey cloud that occupied the firmament from horizon to horizon. It had been there all week, but no one had truly taken notice except to vent one's visceral need to complain or to fill the uncomfortable holes of empty smalltalk. This omnipotent cloud- however dreary it may seem as it occasionally stretched out and settled as fog on the pavement- was a frequent visitor. After all, this is Europe. In the late spring/early summer, blue skies are a gift and grey skies are la vie.

On the outskirts of Paris, away from the heart-like throb of life enwrapping the base of the Eiffel Tower, the evening was quiet and coolly humid. The mist on the streets had quietly turned to a light fog after lunch hour when no one was looking, closing off any pedestrian's distant view of the Tower during their walk home. The strikingly narrow streets were old- so old that most remained to be the same cobblestone that Monsieur Eiffel himself had tread on in the era of England's dear Queen Victoria. The sidewalks were more modern, but worn down by frequent use and lightly bespeckled with blackened marks where chewing gum had fallen and become one with the cement. Along the sidewalks rested old apartment-like buildings in which many people lived quietly, stacked on on top of the other in two-story abodes. Wrought iron decorated the window sills and held various mini-gardens against the outer walls where crawling ivy was apt to grow along the grey brick pattern. On the front stoop of such a building as this, a young man sat.

Man? Boy? It is hard to say what best to call him. Certainly gone from boyhood and highschool, but still waiting for the last of his manly contours and the start of his freshman term in college. His skin was naturally tanned a light olive and slowly growing darker as the sunny periods in the weather grew longer and more frequent during these weeks of early summer. The short dark brown curls against his head were currently in a slight state of disarray, for it was much too early in the morning for him to do much more than brush one's teeth and have oneself a slice of buttered bread. Yes, he was still in his pajamas: forest green plaid flannel pants, bare feet and a loose-fitting grey-green t-shirt. His high-cheekboned face was prickly where his whiskers poked through, though his sister was always sure to make him keep even that well-shaped and groomed. The strong line of his jaw currently held an android smart phone to his face, trapping it between his head and his shoulder to free up his calloused hands. Hazel green eyes idly stared down at the tablet balanced on his knees, one hand adjusting volume levels on an app while the other fiddled with the unused cigarette between his fingers.

"En français, s'il vous plait," he requested patiently, waiting silently for his abuela, sa tante, to comprehend his request. "No, auntie, je ne sais pas beaucoup de l'espagnol. Désolé." When asked why on earth he wasn't fluent in the family language, the twirling cigarette grew still and his eyes wandered up and away from the tablet. "I don't need it," he responded, much to his aunt's displeasure. "I wasn't raised in Spain like you. And I can't say I speak to the family often enough to bother to learn."

"¿QUE?"

The boy flinched at the sudden rise in volume and cringed away from the noise, lifting his cigarette hand to take the phone away from his sensitive ear. From this new distance he could hear the faint sound of his aunt's no-nonsense attitude being applied to his accidental impertinence without mercy.

He turned his curly-topped head and called behind him in the direction of the front door which stood ajar. "Ah... Roux?"

"Quoi?" A girl called back and followed the summons to the doorway.

Unlike her brother, Roux was already dressed. She wore black tights and a long thin shirt- her usual outfit of choice, though the growing summer weather would soon force her to change. Her skin was more pale compared to her brother's, for she was an avid sunscreen user for the sole purpose of avoiding an unsightly tan. Her dark brown hair had a reddish tinge from her own home treatment of henna dying and the strands had been gathered up into two buns on the back of her head. Her bangs hung down and to one side of her face and the eyelids above her hazel-green eyes had been carefully painted with eyeliner in the cat-eye style. Unlike her brother, Roux was particular about detail. While her brother focused on the big picture of his surroundings, Roux noticed all the little things about individuals and details. Because of this, getting ready in the morning was a routine made long by clinical ocd rather than the usual teenage vanity of an average 13-year-old. Her attention to detail also made it hard to have this particular person for a brother. Oh, la, how quick the male was to forget to even brush his hair! "Qu'est-ce qui se passe, Sera?" she inquired as her manicured hands tapped away at the smart phone in her hands.

"I made Aunt Lucía cross,"  he replied, dangling his phone between his fingers and holding it out towards Roux as though it had begun to exude a faint stench.

Roux looked up from her own phone and clicked her tongue angrily. "Zut! Of course you did," she replied, accepting the phone and turning to walk back inside.

"Hola, abuela." She greeted her aunt cordially. "Sí, of course I know Spanish..."

Sera quickly forgot his mistake as the cigarette in his hand drew his attention back to things of higher interest. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the lighter that he'd found in the kitchen, taking a moment to light the cigarette before placing it between two fingers and bringing it to his lips.

It was all downhill from the first inhale. Sera concluded with a wheeze that this fun new thing with which he had decided to experiment was not so fun after all. Ah well, maybe he would try the electric kind next. Every new experience had to be entertained at least once.

Sera gave a cough and absent-mindedly set the still-lit object down next to him, looking back to the tablet perched on his knees. Still nothing. You'd think he'd get something somewhat interesting from an audio bug in a suspect's apartment, but so far the live recording feed had absolutely nothing to offer but bumps and the occasional music of the classical genre. This chick was too quiet.

So suspicious. That's why she was a suspect. A super suspicious suspect.

All the same, it had only been a day since setting up the bug on the inside of the girl's window and yet Sera was already getting bored of stalking the super suspicious suspect.

An unexpected sensation on his head caused him to lose focus on his suspect. Roux had returned with a brush and had taken to painstakingly taming the mess atop his head.

"What are you doing?"

"We're going out soon," she replied, her voice slightly distorted by the slice of buttered bread held between her teeth.

Sera closed his audio bug app and held the tablet to his chest with a sigh. "We are? Why?"

"I ate the last of the baguette."

"Oh dear." Sera reached up and pressed the button on the top of his tablet to turn off the screen. "That is rather serious. Alright, I'll get dressed." A trip to buy a fresh baguette would give him a chance to further investigate the crime that had lead him to bug an apartment: a recent accidental death at the bakery was almost certainly not so accidental after all.

...

Sera liked to have his gadgets. Ever heard of a baguette satchel? Of course you haven't. But he had one. And it was ever so convenient too. Strapping his baguette to his back enabled him to walk down the sidewalk with his hands free to focus on more important things, like the tablet and the bug.

"Can I try too?"

Sera's green eyes slid from the tablet to his sister, who was carrying the little electric cigarette box for him. "No. You're thirteen."

"I'm well aware."

"Then you should've known not to ask."

"It was worth a try."

Sera looked back to the tablet and adjusted the ear bud in his ear. He'd been listening all day, waiting for something new to happen. Roux wanted to listen to the bug too, so he had let her have a turn while he spoke to the baker's wife in the plaza. Now they were walking back home in the clearing fog, chatting idly to pass the time.

"Hey Sera?"

"Hm?"

"How come you don't have a girlfriend like cousin Jacques?"

Sera shrugged and unzipped his black polyester jacket, tucking the tablet away into the large inner pocket. "I dunno. I guess I wouldn't want the same things they want."

"Affection."

"Sure. I mean, kissing is fun and stuff, but to them it's suppose to mean something deeper," he mused, tucking his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts as he spoke. His bare feet slapped softly against the pavement, though Roux tried her best to ignore it. That space shot had forgotten his shoes again.

As they strolled up the walkway, Roux shook her head with a sigh. "You're weird."

Sera couldn't help but grin at this statement. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, pushing it inwards and stepping back to let Roux in first. "I'm well aware," he replied, echoing his sister's own words. He frowned as a sudden thought came to him. "Hey, shouldn't you be in school?"

Roux shook her head as she walked inside and up the stairs to the second level apartment. Goodness, she really felt like a broken record sometimes. "No. It's summer vacation, remember? That's why Maman et Papa are letting me stay in your apartment."

Sera gave a nod of understanding as the two walked into the living room. "Ah, I see!" He responded with enthusiasm before quickly forgetting about it once more when the crooked picture on the wall distracted him.


Last edited by Of The Falls on Mon May 19, 2014 12:09 pm; edited 3 times in total
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Re: En Français

Post by FireSpark96 on Fri May 16, 2014 12:29 am

The room of the penthouse was decorated elegantly. Chocolate walls matched with neutral colored furniture, and accessories of rich deep Tuscan red – a shade of violette – gave the room an elegant yet warm feeling. Large bay windows looked out over the beauty of Français. France stretched out like a painting. The Eiffel Tower reaching up in an attempt to touch heaven, like the infamous Tower of Babble that God cast his judgment upon in the autonomy of his all-powerful righteousness. People scrambling around the streets looked like ants as they crawled through the streets in the slow laid back way that is a personification of France.
Destinee couldn’t help but believe that the city itself was like the anatomy of a human body. The streets were veins pumping people and cars through them rather than blood cells. The skin: the eternal smog that seemed to hang over the city in an attempt to cloud the view of it from prying eyes. The lungs: the metro keeping the city alive by its function of taking in and releasing. The Tower itself was the heart of this body, the thing in the center of all of it keeping it alive and fresh. That was why she loved the city of Paris. Most cities functioned like bodies with their constant movement and flow of life, but most of them lacked the most essential part: the heart.
The beauty lounged on the large chaise lounge that was the heart of her apartment, facing the beautiful windows, the eyes of the penthouse as she would often refer to them in passing. Soft classical music drifted through her apartment that smelled faintly of vanilla. Gounod’s Ave Maria filled the woman’s ears as she immersed herself in a medical textbook about the proper way to embalm bodies. She had come across the book the day before at one of her newest client’s houses, and when she had expressed interest in it her client, pleased with her extreme professionalism and ability, had gladly offered it to her. She had accepted in a calm voice expressing her thanks to said client by stating clearly that she hoped he would “never have to face such an endeavor as being embalmed while still being alive”. With that sentiment she had made her way home calmly though inwardly she just might have been fangirling extremely hard about her newest addition to her medical science book collection. Once she arrived home she had promptly turned on her music, English Folk song Suite seeping through the house with its calming tune. She then proceeded to fetch a piece of tiramisu and promptly flopped on the couch to read her new book and enjoy her gateau at the same time.

Destinee closed the book with a contented sigh. Nothing was better than pulling an all-nighter with a good book about the workings of the human body and some delicious desserts! The model-esque woman pulled herself off the chaise lounge with a soft groan, stretching her lean body. She was a tall woman and had an elegance to outmatch even her finely decorated apartment. Standing at 5’11” she practically towered over other women, not to mention her affinity for heels. Her body was curvaceous yet slim, like one of those photo shopped women on the cover of Cosmopolitan. Velvet brown hair travelled down to the middle of her back in an assortment of curls and waves that made it look voluminous yet chic. At the moment she wore a baggy white shirt, exposing her collarbones in a fashionable way, tucked slightly into short black shorts. Piercing hazel eyes were encased by a sharp line of black eyeliner that was just as dark as when she’d put it on.

It was a lazy day for Destinee as she had no clients today. Leaning over, in a feline way, to loosen her tense muscles she caught something amiss out of the corner of her eye. She had felt that something was off since she had a arrived yesterday. If she had been a believer in Eastern religions the she would have described it as the Feng Shui in the room being offset by a foreign presence or object of some sort.

Approaching the object she stopped only to grab the listening device she had connected to the bug placed in /that/ suspicious character’s house, and placed it in her ear. She had taken the thing out the day before because the man was extremely rambunctious, as well as the woman who lived with him – more of a girl than a woman really – they made a loud duo in the old apartment though, she supposed, they were quitter than some.

Nearing the window Destinee took in the small object in its fullness. She couldn’t comprehend how she had not seen the small fly like thing thrown lackadaisically onto the windowsill the day before. It must have been the enchanting aspect of her new book that caused her to indulge in such tunnel vision. The thought made her reflect regretfully on her sloppiness in placing her own bugging device in the curly haired man’s house. She had placed it behind a painting and was hastily righting the dreadful thing when the sound of footsteps attacked her ears. With the assurance that getting caught in the act was worse than having her bug found prematurely Destinee had fled the scene.

She picked up the bug observing it. It wasn’t very state of the art; rather it was quite an old version of one of a popular bugging device. The bug was also slightly dented, possibly a sign of it being stepped on before. Well, Destinee was fine with people listening in on her. Maybe it was some rich pervert that she could black mail into becoming her “sugar daddy” for the rest of her life in order to indulge in her various hobbies for the rest of her life. More likely it was the college age boy that she suspected to be the latest murderer in the crime she was investigating concerning her favorite baker – he made the BEST bonbons – and his sudden death. The Police National had passed it off as the man locking his freezer, forgetting about it, and closing the door behind him as he searched the freezer for some necessary item. This theory was possible since the man was known for his intense forgetfulness. Destinee had hypothesized this forgetfulness as a form of dementia caused by some scaring past event, but it could have simply been a cover for something sinister going on behind the scenes of the sugary wonderland.

A loud growl issued from Destinee’s stomach breaking her train of thought and causing her to walk off in search of food. Smoothly she strolled into the modern kitchen opening the sterling silver fridge and coming face-to-face with a delicious assortment of varying desserts and wines. With a slightly satisfied grin she grabbed her favorite bottle of wine – in Destinee’s opinion it was never too early for a glass of wine, plus she /had/ been awake for around 32 hours - setting it on the black marble countertop. Then she delved into the back of her fridge, tongue sticking out of her lips slightly as she searched for the crepes she had made the day before. When her hand finally grasped them a triumphant grin found its way onto her face. Happily she pulled the crepes out placing them in the microwave for a quick warming up. A sashay to her step Destinee strolled over to the cabinet where she kept her sugar and honey, pulling them out with the ease of someone completely familiar with the placement of everything in her domain. She then proceeded to douse her crepes in the sweet substances before pouring her wine into an elegant glass. Walking back out to the living rooms he placed it on the side table situated right next to the chaise lounge.

Plopping down upon her lounge she grabbed the laptop kept under her couch – for easy access of course – opening it up to search for further clues in her investigation.

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Re: En Français

Post by Batman on Mon May 19, 2014 9:54 am

Sera's calloused fingers worked carefully, pushing at the corner of the picture frame in his efforts to try to straighten it once more. He'd always liked this picture. It was a painted depiction of a little duckling perched on a wheelbarrow. There was something so peaceful and calming about the innocence of the scene, especially when the soft, happy colors of the painting were placed over the pea green background of the apartment wall.

Sera's hazel green eyes moved to the somewhat unsavory color as his mind drifted away from the hand that continued to work on straightening the painting. Roux would have preferred a soft blue or a creamy white for the apartment interior, but that's what happens when you rent an affordable apartment in the older, more sage area of outer Paris. Old styles like pea green walls and brown carpets are just part of the area. The furniture of the apartment was also old, but that was because Sera had neither the stylish wherewithal nor the financial means to buy any modern, fashionable decor. A worn brown leather sofa sat before him against the wall on the right, resting under another quaint framed painting hanging on the wall of the small living room. On the opposite wall over the outdated fireplace hung a rug, as is common in a Parisian household. Sera vaguely remembered his father explaining how such rugs used to be hung to help retain the heat in a room during cold seasons, but now it is merely tradition. Before the old sofa stood a well-loved coffee table whose corners were faded from years of being bumped and whose surface was scratched and stained with faint circular outlines where hot wet mugs had left their marks.

To the left of the doorway there was no wall, but instead an opening that connected the kitchen and the living room into one space. The only thing separating them was the threshold between the two "rooms" that sometimes tripped up a groggy Sera during his occasional sleepless nights. White cabinets held all of Sera's various forms of food, as well as a white refrigerator that liked to burn through light bulbs like a smoker through a pack of cigarettes. In the center of the kitchen sat another abused table and four chairs around it, two of which were hardly touched by the apartment's two occupants. From the left end of the kitchen "room" sprouted a hallway down which the bathroom and two bedrooms were located. Overall, Sera liked it. It was small, it was cozy and most importantly: it was his.

Sera's irritation flared as his mind went back to the painting that refused to stay straight, despite his efforts. "Ah! Quel est le problème avec vous," he exclaimed softly. His olive-skinned hands reached out and grasped either side of the frame, dismounting it from its nail and turning it over to expose the back. "Eh? Quelle est cette..." He glanced up to make sure Roux wasn't in the room before he reached down and plucked the little black object from the corner of the frame. So this is what had misaligned the frame! It looked like some sort of device; a bug, maybe.

"Allo?"

Okay, so maybe blowing the bug's cover so openly wasn't the best idea, but Sera wasn't really thinking about that right now. Honestly, he was more curious than anything. Who would want to bug him, of all people? He set the painting down to lean against the wall and made his way over to the couch, adjusting the ear bud in his own ear and trying to picture where the snoop might be at this point in time. Were they in a house? In a van? Outside the window? His hazel green eyes flicked to the drawn curtains and then back to the little object pinched between his fingers.
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Re: En Français

Post by FireSpark96 on Mon May 19, 2014 6:44 pm

The internet was an evil creation of mankind thought Destinee. She had been lured away from her search for clues, on the subject of the murdered baker, when her attention had been captured by the delicious pastries on the screen of her laptop. Who knew that looking up information on a pastry chef would yield such delicious looking results? It was all Destinee could do to resist salivating all over her computer screen.

Thoughtlessly Destinee took another bite of her crepe before continuing to look for anything mildly suspicious. She had already gathered quite a list of suspects – pastry coinsures with delicious looking desserts on their websites – who she would no doubt look into as soon as she could rip her eyes away from the computer screen. Scrolling down the page that she was currently on, her eyes met the picture of chouquette covered with a perfect sprinkling of powdered sugar and a river of chocolate. This chef was definitely a suspect, thought Destinee writing the name of the pastry shop down in her notebook dedicated to this case.

The sound of a door opening caused Destinee to spring into action dropping her laptop softly on the couch and rolling onto the floor. She crawled quietly along the floor until she could see her door which was… closed? An expression of confusion covered Destinee’s face, then where did that noise come from?

Suddenly she remembered the bug in her ear. That must be where the noise came from, her suspect must be home. Groaning Destinee pushed herself off of the floor and onto her couch where she accessed the program on her computer attached to the small camera she had placed on the light post across from his apartment. It had been a trial, but if this slight, disheveled looking man turned out to be the killer it would be all worth it. She observed him and the girl with him walk into the small apartment. On her small escapade into the apartment she had been appalled by the fashion choice, it was absolutely horrendous. Especially that painting with a duck on a barrel! Remembering it she let out a small “Oh lavash” that was covered by her softly playing music – a song named Finan’s Isle that Destinee had lately found herself enraptured by because of its earthy violin sound.

Well, nothing to watch now that the two had made their way into the apartment, Destinee thought turning toward the kitchen to make herself a coffee before she headed out to follow those /suspicious/ leads. A small buzzing like the friction of something rubbing against the bug filled her ears. She gave a small displeased groan at the incessant noise. The coffee finished with a small beep and Destinee poured herself some of it in a lovely mug painted with the view of Paris at night, it had been painted by one of her past lovers who had bid an adieu when he learned about her fascination with bodies – dead bodies especially.

A soft stepping sound came from Destinee as she walked across the room, sitting down on the window seat and curling up to comfortably enjoy her morning – almost afternoon now - coffee and watch Paris thrum with life. The buzzing sound from the bug finally stopped making her let out a sigh of relief and relax even more.

Then something happened that Destinee never expected. From the listening device in her ear she heard a loud “Allo?” that no doubt came from someone speaking right into the bug because of the loudness of it. With a soft giggle Destinee spoke into the air knowing there was no way the curly haired man would hear her reply. “Salute mon souris. Vous êtes très rusé.” A confident smirk covered her features, as Destinee forgot she herself was being bugged.

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Re: En Français

Post by Batman on Mon May 19, 2014 9:32 pm

Sera was faintly aware of the sound of music seeping into his ear through his ear bud, though he easily ignored the soft notes. The audio feeding into his ear right now didn't seem quite so important as the little black thing in his hand. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to get from speaking into the device. He began to lower his hand when a chuckle and a reply came to him through the bud in his ear.

"Hi, my mouse. You are very clever."

Sera's face heated up in his shock and he lifted his free hand, cringing away from the ear bud as he ripped it away from his head. "Mon dieu! Merdre, merdre...!" He'd been bugged by his own suspect?? Sera grasped the bug in his clenched fist and hurried out of the living room, crossing through the kitchen and down the hallway. When he reached his bedroom he closed and locked the door behind him before collapsing into his sheets and shoving the ear bud back into his ear. The first sentence from his mouth was a rather obvious remark: "You found my audio bug," he observed, his tone somewhat bemused and very intrigued. As he laid there on his stomach with his elbows propping him up, his bare toes curled into the squishy material of the white coverlet on his unmade bed. The evening sunlight seeped into the dim room through the curtains, lighting the contours of the bed's oak frame. This was the only piece of furniture in the room. Upon the floor sat a cord, which was attached to a lone outlet for when Sera's tablet needed charging. This is the device that the young man now pulled from his jacket. He quickly unlocked the screen and opened his app to adjust the volume on the audio feed streaming from the woman's penthouse.
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Re: En Français

Post by FireSpark96 on Tue May 20, 2014 8:27 pm

Another sip of coffee from her mug that steamed like human breath on a cold day as Destinee mentally prepared her outfit for the day. Those night sky blue Gucci sandals with the ankle straps and 4 inch heels would work well for this warm summer day. Matched with her casual black dress with a belt of the same color they would look perfect. The dress reached to mid-thigh and had short sleeves that exposing her shoulders coyly. A black sun hat would complete the look. It would be a look fitting for a day off work.

As she was about to stand and put herself together a reply from her listening device shocked her. “You found my audio bug,” was uttered by the same voice that had spoken to the bug before.

A look of disbelief covered Destinee’s face as she turned to look at the bug she had dismissed before. The device now looked more threatening – not to mention repulsive – in her eyes. So her prey had bugged her back? What a clever little mouse she had on her hands. Maybe she should upgrade his nickname to furet since she was becoming more and more amused by him.

With a small chuckle Destinee picked up the small black object. “Oui Monsieur, I did. Too bad it didn’t fall out the window to under the feet of the mobs of Paris and get trampled into infinitesimally small fragments, only seen by the most sensitive of microscopes,” Destinee spoke into the bug her voice colored with humor.

She calmly walked over to her chaise lounge stretching out on it and once more booting up her computer. There was no telling what this souris would do so Destinee deemed it necessary to keep her eye on his apartment.

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Re: En Français

Post by Batman on Tue May 20, 2014 11:00 pm

Sera listened for the sound of the feminine voice, scrunching his nose up at her strange remark. Was that an attempt at humor? The young man skipped past the strange joke and moved on to the foremost question in his mind. "Why are you monitoring me," he inquired bluntly.

It was somewhat uncomfortable for Sera to carry out such a weighty exchange over an audio feed. Not only were the two denied a face-to-face encounter, but this particular mode of communication was very low quality. No doubt the lag between feeds would cause terrible spaces of silence between one person speaking and the other replying. Sera tried to picture the face of the woman to whom he spoke, but the details seemed blurry to him. Details were Roux's department. All he could muster was the general feel of the woman and the alignment of her appearance: clothing that was riddled with impeccable symmetry and adhered to specific patterns on the color wheel... hips that effeminately swung out of the body's line of central balance with each long step... long hair that interrupted the flow of his general mental image where it laid along her back or over her shoulder...

[If she says "I could ask you the same thing" I will take your cliche and shove it up your nose.]
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Re: En Français

Post by FireSpark96 on Wed May 21, 2014 9:58 am

Such an interesting thing he was, thought Destinee. He hadn’t responded to her humor in kind - of course most people didn’t – instead he had bluntly asked why she had bugged him. That led her to question why he had bugged her. It could be because she was so beautiful, but you can’t see beauty through a bug. Maybe he was especially fond of classical music and couldn’t afford to purchase it, seeing the state of his apartment this very well could be true. It also might be because of that body she stabbed last week, maybe he was somehow related to it, but she had checked before to make sure that stabbing it wouldn’t somehow land her in prison. Well, that was a story for a different time.

Turning her attention back to the man she thought for a moment on what she would say. “Well Monsieur, I don’t really wish to speak over these bugs that might somehow be hacked. Let us meet up in person, at say, Le Boulangerie in 15 minutes.” If he was the criminal there was no doubt that going back to the scene of the crime would make him anxious. Not to mention, Destinee would be able to pick up some food.

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Re: En Français

Post by Batman on Fri May 23, 2014 12:58 pm

Sera’s eyes narrowed as they rested idly on the lit screen of his tablet. What a funny assumption. A hacked bug? We was not so sure if Murphy’s Law would be so cruel. The feminine voice suggested that they meet somewhere public instead.

“The bakery?!” He exclaimed, clearly surprised. That did it. This woman definitely killed the baker. Of all the suspicious moves a suspicious suspect could make, this was certainly the MOST incriminating! “D’accord. 15 minutes then,” he responded, already lifting himself from the sheets. He reached for his baguette satchel as he exited his bedroom, tossing it onto the counter to let Roux fuss with it when she came back out of her room (whenever that may be). “I will meet you inside.”

...

Sera made good time on his bicyclette. He made it to the meeting point in about 10 minutes and locked his bike to the rack outside. He was somewhat aware of the danger he could be putting himself in by meeting his suspect like this. But what else was there to do? He would not be able to keep any control on the situation if he cowered. This is why Sera was not usually one to cower. Best to pursue the danger and catch it off guard, yes?
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Re: En Français

Post by FireSpark96 on Wed May 28, 2014 12:07 pm

Destinee calmly readied herself. There was no need to rush since she was sure her suspect wouldn’t chicken out. A trip to her spacious room decorated in different shades of whites and creams to look as if it was the inside of a cloud, in order to dress in her before thought of outfit and Destinee was ready for her meeting.

Before long Destinee was strolling up to her destination. It had taken her around 7 minutes to get ready and go to the meeting point. She pulled the door of the quaint bakery open causing a tickling bell sound to reach her ears. Surveying the room she noticed that her suspect wasn’t there and took it upon herself to indulge in a bonbon before his arrival.

She approached the Madame of the place. They had become well acquainted because of Destinee’s sweet tooth and love of the baker’s cooking.

“One bonbon madame,” Destinee said sweetly.

The baker’s wife gave a nod, fetching it for Destinee and quickly exchanging it for the necessary money. Destinee thanked her with a small smile before taking a seat near the storefront of the bakery and waiting for her suspect to appear.

(This piece of writing feels HORRENDOUS!!)

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Re: En Français

Post by Batman on Wed May 28, 2014 1:10 pm

Upon entering the shop, Sera walked up to the counter that stretched before him. His eyes roamed over the old tessellating pattern of the old brown tile floor, asbently inspecting the effect the design had on the general big picture feeling it gave him. "Un pain de levain, s'il te plait, er VOUS plait. Vous plait." Sera looked up from the tile floor upon accidentally addressing the baker's wife informally. His hasty correction seemed to have patched up his misstep, though he often wasn't that fast in catching  his own conversational mistakes. People could get so angry so quickly, and he often didn't understand why. Take his aunt for instance. Sera wondered if Roux had been able to appease the woman when he'd handed off the phone this morning.

The baker's widow handed Sera the requested role of sourdough bread and he paid in cash. As he unwrapped the role and brought it to his mouth with both hands, he turned to make a general sweep of the bakery interior. The shelf behind the counter above the display case was still messed up. That whole area was so off and lopsided compared to what he was used to, which is what had led him to suspect murder (more details later). The shop was fairly empty at the time. A couple stood off to the side conversing and two of the three tables were occupied. Sera's eyes skimmed over each person, taking them in while hardly noticing them at the same time. The couple appeared to him as a blur of blue and red t-shirts. Their shapes and movements where unfamiliar to Sera, so he knew they were strangers. The hunching form of the man at a table was familiar. The elderly gentleman was a frequent visitor who often hooked Sera into a cordial conversation, though Sera seldom remembered the man's name or what they spoke about. The shape of the woman at a different table caused Sera's roaming gaze to grow still, resting on the curve of her hair which once again acted as the interruptive characteristic in what Sera viewed as the general flow of her physique.

This was definitely the woman. The hair made her decidedly identifiable. Sera turned and moved towards the empty chair across from her, his sandaled feet sliding across the floor in a very self-incognizant manner. He lifted the hard-crusted roll of bread to his mouth once more as he wiggled into the chair until it was far enough from the table to fit his lean body. Immediately following, he obeyed the urge to feel more comfortable on such a hard surface. He lifted his feet out of his flip flops and crossing his legs "criss-cross applesauce" on the chair's surface. Ah, better.

Now what? Sera chewed the sourdough bread and kept the roll up close to his mouth, flicking his tongue over the flavorful surface after he had swallowed the first bite. Mmm, sourdough was always so tasty. Wait, focus. The woman bugged your apartment, Sera. Pay more attention. Sera's eyes fixed on the woman's face, though he couldn't bring himself to withdraw the tip of his tongue from the bread until the desire to speak overcame his affinity for the bread's taste. "Bonjour."

Good start, Sera. Lazy, but at least you spoke.
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