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So this is where it brought him?

A lanky figure stood alone despite the midday rush surrounding the train. He could smell the ocean, and that was a small mercy amidst the all-too-familiar smell of people and transport. The tang of the trains' telltale smell made him glance back up at the inorganic beast and he shook his head. Of all the things that changed through time, trains remained nearly untouched.

The young man hefted a single bag over his shoulder and set out from the train station and his last piece of familiarity. In all his travels he'd yet to come across this interesting little town, but something drew him here. He had a feeling he knew what it was.

Wind blew his hair, long for a boy, into his eyes. He swept it away irritably and looked about for one of those information booths. A place to stay was first on the list, and then a search. Perhaps he could even search on his way to finding that place to stay.

Gold eyes settled on an information booth and he snatched a borchure from the stocks. An idle flip through showed places of interest -few, to him- and places to stay. "Mercelles...sounds French," He mumbled as deft fingers flicked the cover over. He looked at some bit-rate artist's rendition of the city with a predatory gaze. "Where are you?"

His eyes narrowed at the cover before he flipped back to the map inside. He crossed the street in a throng of people and petered out on his own to take a seat on a quaint little bench where he hunched over the layout of the city with a look far too old for his twenty-something frame. Circles under his eyes and an air of irritation around him would keep all but the most desperate or idiotic from interrupting his mental cataloguing.

The churchbells went largely unnoticed for the boy on the bench. He had little reason to pay attention to religion, and the church had been so prominent in history...no wait.

He snorted at the memory of two high officials being chucked out the window sometime long ago in his past. They had landed in manure, they were fine. Unhappy, and the object of much hilarity, but fine.

Rach stretched his arms along the back of the bench and looked for the source of the bells. A funeral. If the dead one was any sort of a*****e that would mean an occupiedafternoon for ---

His head snapped up when a familiar twinge sent warmth across his shoulders. Something was near, or rather someone. The entire town had a pull, but this was close. His eyes scanned the passing public around him, then back to the small crowd entering the church.

A figure caught his attention.

Rachgier watched the one like him approach. Tall, eyes covered, and very determined to get to him. A snicker escaped him when the figure was sidetracked by a group of children. Oh he'd like this one. What was he though? He racked his memories but couldn't recall any details on the figure.

By that time he'd already approached, and spoken.

After years with Valencia Ennui's manner would have to be far more offensive to bother him. He was no match for that cold b***h. "Hast thou not yet learned to speak in a modern and less formal manner?" He brushed his hair from his eyes and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Do you really need to know my purpose? What about yours, blind man?" Gold eyes slipped past the man to the building beyond, "A church, of all places...please." He scoffed and studied him carefully through red-tipped bangs. "I'm looking for something, someone, not you."

No wonder Marcelles had drawn him. "How many of us are here?"



(He still luffs you Val! Like a tattoo: hurts like a b***h, most often pretty, and has a tendency to stick)

Rach rolled his eyes and leaned back on the bench with a snort. "Yeah, a lot of people get that about me."

Tired eyes wandered to watch the children without much interest, then winced as the bells came again, louder. God he needed a nap. "Ugh, of course it doesn't suit 'his majesty'. You no more believe in their god than they believe in your immortality." He flicked a hand at the church, then pulled his bag onto his lap and stuffed the brochure he'd picked up into one of the pockets.

"I seek Sionek, and I doubt he's near. But the twins..." a low whistle passed his lips. Ah, the fires in London. This may get interesting. "Oh well, I'm sure I'll find them."

Rachgier blinked in surprise at the reaction, then snorted and stood. "Very sorry, princess. I'll keep my foul language from your delicate ears." He pushed himself off the bench and suppressed a laugh when the other turned away in what quite reminded him of a huff capable only of a courtly lady.

"You're right. It is none of your concern." The bag was slung over his shoulder and his gaze swept the streets with what seemed like lazy observation but was really closer to predatory interest. "Sionek," He used the name purposefully, "and I have...a bone to pick. Unfinished business."

IndentIt had gotten to the point where Iyemina could almost hear when someone called her name. It was rare, and no one other than herself had it. Atleast, not that she had come across in that past 400+ years. She traveled all over, looking for something, when she had first come across two other sorrows. She had considered herself friends with silver haired female one, and a bit shifty with the other female, who had cerulean hair. However, the rumor between them was that the dark haired twin had gone to look for her brother...

IndentShe brushed past people, whom she did not fear, but who she also did not trust. Iyemina was shy towards them, unlike to those of her own kind. She wondered if the rumor was true; the azoth had been found and was creating new life. A slight breeze blew and her dark, straight hair that usually fell long below her rear was now starting to pick up, and gain an almost smoky look. It was then when she nearly bumped into someone...

Indent"Pardon me!" the female Sorrow said, turning quickly to face the person. However, she noticed that he was...different from others. She wasn't quite sure if he could see her, and with the one wing full of feathers and gears, Iyemina knew exactly what he was. She had also recognized him from somewhere, perhaps hundreds of years ago, with her brother.

IndentThe tall and thin sorrow also knew instantly knew what she was, and so Iyemina assumed the other person he was chatting with was another "child of Azoth.""That would be correct. My name is Iyemina, my brother is Tristan. Perhaps you've seen or heard from him?" A sparkle came to her eyes, but that was the only part of her that showed how much she still respected her big sibling. Iyemina remained calm and collected, her hair gently blowing in the breeze.

IndentMina raised her eyebrow, suddenly having another question for the others. "Better yet, we could talk about the Azoth. We seem to know exactly what we all are, why not discuss what we have learned."