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 Posted: Thu Aug 26, 2010 4:28 pm
Mainland -- Paris
Broad daylight. Clear skies. Music in the background and the chatter of cattle all around him. That's what they were, of course, these mortals. Ashley found himself sneering as he looked about himself derisively until a cup was placed in front of him by slender, feminine hands. Immediately his behavior changed to be charming, more fitting of his handsome looks, and he looked up from behind his recently acquired black shades. It was amazing how accommodating the French could be when pressure was applied in the right places, like the jugular of a pathetic, lonely shop-girl just the previous night.
"Votre café, monsieur." Same the light voice of a young serving girl.
Lightning quick, Ashley reached up and grabbed her wrist. It was so subtle, and so fast, that the other patrons missed the action and would only have been betrayed should she have screamed -- and she was convinced not to by the vice-like grip he now had and the cold smile he was giving her. Her eyes met his in the perfect display of fear, and then they calmed as his grip released and he let her go. As her hand left his he slipped a small, folded note to her palm and let her go.
Contact had been made. All he had to do now was wait.
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Posted: Thu Aug 26, 2010 5:26 pm
Belle Ile -- France
She stepped out from behind a large, pale tomb marker as the couple approached. Jean cut a figure as pale as the mist that lingered over the graveyard itself, her white-blonde hair let to tumble in a breeze that seemed to effect only her while her attire from head to foot was also white - a tight fitting white, turtleneck jacket over a longer, fashionable white tee and white jeans. It wasn't a particular look that she was going for, but it was enough of a statement.
Her green eyes were only for the two that were now approaching her, one she recognized instantly as soon as the quickening was upon her and the other, the girl, whom she did not. It mattered little. She harbored no fear in her heart for other Immortals though she traveled unarmed, she had already seen the day when she would die and this was not it.
"Salut Tyriel, ça a été un long moment." Of course she used his old name, the one that she knew him by, but she addressed him in English out of courtesy when she continued; French had never been one of Tyler's favorite languages. "I had the strangest dream last night... "
Her voice and eyes went far away for a moment as she recalled it, and then recalled her visitors. Yes, it had been a strange night indeed - nightmare or not, she did not yet know. As if her own strangeness was of no matter to her she finished quite simply, with a smile. "It comforts me that there are some things that you still trust in."
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Posted: Thu Aug 26, 2010 5:32 pm
Belle Ile -- France
Tyler paused for a moment, only a moment, and then continued on with Cassandra before him. Conveniently, there was a gravel path that offered little resistance to the chair.
When Jean made herself known to them he stilled as he always did, mind and body. It was a part of her quickening, he knew, a sense of ease and trust that she exuded in her presence. Her beauty, too, caused him to pause as always. She was an angel among men, and he had no trouble believing that she had once been the avenging angel of France, the woman that led armies of men in the name of God, and the one that so many had loved. The same face that many today worshiped as a saint... and yet, despite their beliefs, here she was alive and well -- as well as any Immortal tangled up in the game.
Ah. He thought to himself, catching his own inner commentary. But Jean does not play the game. Part of what she said hung over him, that mention of his trust, and he tried his best not to appear disgruntled. It had been a long kept secret, one known only between them, that he had stopped believing in God a long time ago.
"Hello Jean," He said in a simple response to her greeting. "This is Cassandra."
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Posted: Sat Aug 28, 2010 2:47 pm
Cassandra inclined her head, the greeting ancient and regal and all the things Cassandra was raised around. "It is strange to finally meet you, Jean," she said not unkindly. "I lived in France and followed news of you during your life." She spoke as if Jean were dead now or nothing more than a ghost - because to Cassandra, the life of an Immortal was just a very life-like death. It didn't help that Jean was dressed like a spirit.
The crippled child was in awe of Jean, of the inner strength she exuded. The Immortal Cassandra was envious of the serenity Jean had. Cassie was serene in her own way, but Jean was intelligent and at peace. It was clear she ignored Game, much like Tyler and Cassandra herself, but Casssandra wasn't sure Jean would be the kind to play even in her own defense.
Cassandra had the mulishness of a spoiled child and the pride of a princess and priestess; when threatened, she bristled and when attacked, she struck back quickly and viciously. So while neither Jean no Cassandra actively played the game, Cassandra couldn't liken herself to the other Immortal at all.
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haphazardly parked Vice Captain
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