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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2018 14:42:06 GMT -5
Luxor, Egypt
The clock on the wall sounded louder than it was in the silence; so did the sound of pencil on paper. He rested his elbow idly on the table, bare feet drawn underneath himself. There was something peaceful about the little apartment in the evening, with Tahia working on her homework while they both waited for dinner to finish cooking. Across the table, she shifted her weight and frowned, pencil stopping as she mouthed something to herself. Gale glanced at her with a raised eyebrow.
"How do I translate that to English?" she asked, pushing her homework to him. He took it and frowned thoughtfully at the paper. It took him a few moments to read it over before he reached out for the pencil. Reluctantly, she gave it to him - but she also pushed her notebook to him, too. He took the hint and began to write on the notebook rather than the worksheet, mouthing the words to himself before he pushed it back. "Did you explain how to do it, too?"
Gale hummed softly in affirmation, and the two settled back into what they had been doing before. It was painfully domestic, and yet he couldn't quite find it in himself to hate it. Not when it was something Tahia needed. A moment of peace in a not-so-peaceful life, a moment for her to take her studies seriously rather than dismiss them. He wondered if he'd be able to deal with life like this; the life of a simple man, with few worries beyond his daughter's schooling and troublemaking. They wouldn't have to move often, she wouldn't be left home alone for long stretches of time. Would that be the sort of life he was interested in? No, not really. He would rather be able to have some stability, he would admit. Steady income so that Tahia could live comfortably and have what she wanted, rather than only ever having what she desperately needed.
"Have I ever taken you to Andorra?" the sudden question seemed to startle her, as Tahia looked up and squinted at him thoughtfully. She knew as well as he did that he never forgot; he was trying to gauge her interest in certain places.
"Once, last year. We stayed for a day."
He laughed quietly and stood up from the table, wincing at the cold hardwood floor. He padded across the small room to open the oven, turning his head to look at his daughter. She stared back at him, pencil in her mouth and eyebrow raised. It was in moments like these where he felt like he was almost looking into the mirror. The darkness was missing from her gaze, she did not seem as stressed nor as hurt; and he was glad of it. He did not want her to experience too much pain in her life, if he could help it.
"Alright. What about Ireland?" if he was being honest, he was indecisive about where to go next. They needed to move, but he needed to figure out where.
"Can we like, not go to somewhere that speaks English? Arabic, please. Maybe French." she said. Her tone was vaguely annoyed, though the smile stayed on her face as she watched her father plate up the food. Little on his plate, plenty on hers. She pushed her papers aside and stood up to pick up her plate and her fork, before she returned to the table and began to eat. "Free me from the worst language."
Gale shrugged as he sat down, poking at his own food idly.
"Alright. No English-speaking countries. It'll be a surprise, then," from the corner of his eye, he could see her scowling at him. But this was how it was; even after living with him for a few years, she was still trying to get used to it, still trying to figure out how to adapt to the same situations that he seemed to adapt to before they even happened.
When dinner was one with, Tahia went to her room; he doubted she'd sleep, but he knew that she would be busy with homework and her online friends. He was glad of that; that she had friends online. It meant that moving wasn't as tragic as it could've been, that even if it was hard, it was bearable. With her in her room, he rummaged in his cupboards to find his whiskey - only to find that it was gone. Motherf*cker, he thought, but knew better than to try to buy more. Whatever. He checked his packet of cigarettes to find that that was nearly empty (again - motherf*cker), and knew that he had to replace that pack because he would go insane if not.
Grabbing his keys and his wallet, Gale called out that he was going out (and got nothing in response), and shrugged on his jacket before he headed out of the apartment. The sun had nearly vanished at the horizon, the sky remaining shades of dark red and orange. It was pretty, he had to admit. But he hadn't come out here just to admire the sunset; some little sh*t had stolen some of his cigs, and that meant he needed to buy replacement packets. He walked briskly with his hands in his pockets, dodged past people walking to their night shifts or walking home from a later shift at work. He didn't want to be caught up in any problems, however; this area was dodgy and he knew it, and knew how to work around it.
That meant that he knew when trouble was going to happen. A trio of men (or teenagers) crossed the road and walked in his direction, and in daylight, this might not have bothered him. As it was, it unnerved him; they were all bigger than him (height-wise) and menacing. He frowned thoughtfully and glanced to the other side of the road - but he had no doubt that they would follow if he crossed. It was times like these that he was glad that he often carried his knife, even if he didn't like to use it. At least I have some sort of protection, he thought, as the distance between them began to close more and more. He moved to the side of the street to see if they would just pass him - but no luck. They moved as if to cut him off. It was at this point that he became aware of footsteps behind him.
An ambush. Interesting. It was definitely by random chance; he fit in very well with the local people having been born in a similar area though a different city, and he looked as poor as they did. That meant that yes, this was a random attack; they didn't care who they caught. Maybe, in a way, it was lucky that they'd caught him. He could handle it. Many others couldn't.
"Hey," it was the one closest to him who spoke, arm reaching out to stop him from moving past them. "Hey, bro. Can you help a dude out? Just need directions."
He glanced between the trio, brows pulling down. Gale glanced over his shoulder to see the one approaching; a smaller man, but still intimidating and still bigger than him. There was no easy way out of this situation; but that didn't mean he was going to try. After assessing the situation, he smiled up at the man who'd spoken to him.
"I really need to be somewhere-" he moved to try to pass the man. A stupid move, he knew, but he was going to get hurt regardless. As expected, an arm came up and hit him in the abdomen, causing him to huff in mild pain. The man who'd punched him seemed surprised at hitting something so solid - Gale supposed he didn't look as sturdy as he was. "If you'd let me pass," his voice was a little weaker than he would've liked.
They did not, in fact, let him pass. They used their fists and legs as weapons and that, in itself, was something of a relief. It was easier to deal with (and hide) bruises from Tahia than it was to hide wounds and bloodstained clothes. Even then; he pulled his knife at some point to deal damage, which definitely got them to back away. Four against one was not a problem for them, but a knife against them...they certainly seemed to be considering whether or not he could use it. One of them was already bleeding at the hand, looking vaguely in pain.
It wasn't worth it, but they found this out the hard way. Upon taking his wallet while he was standing bent over, arms around his midsection, they found that he barely had any money on him. They took what was there and left, at which point he dropped to his knees and took a deep breath. His knife sat beside him, blood staining the blade.
"F**k," he said softly, pushing his hand against the bruises. They hurt a lot already; he dreaded to think of what they'd be like. "Ow."
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Mar 16, 2018 18:59:50 GMT -5
"Allegations of the death of Alphonse Fournier have yet to be proven. Despite the blood found at the crime scene, the lawyer's body has yet to surface-" "There are beliefs that Alphonse Fournier was connected to the infamous Fournier Family-" "It was a massacre-" "Nobody survived-" "Crime rates in Paris are spiking-" "This marks the end of a regime. One mafia family has crumbled to the ground, but authorities fear this marks the beginning of an age of violence."
Since that faithful night of August 18th, there was no hotter topic in all of Paris than the downfall of the Fournier Family. It circulated through the media, it was a topic of much controversy in the crime rings and the criminal organizations. A strong criminal organization in its own right, the Fournier Family had crumbled from within when they seemed to be at the peak of their influence and strength. He had barely gotten himself out of Paris alive, but it came at a heavy price.
He had vanished without a word, injured and bleeding in search of a sanctuary to recoup and prepare himself for a bitter battle. Somehow that sanctuary had been Luxor, Egypt. His allies in Russia, Hong Kong, Japan, Germany, Britain, and even the States were under deep scrutiny by the damn brat that had set this all in motion. He should've known better. It was like his mind was a broken record but the thought kept repeating itself. He should've known better. He should've known better. He should've known better.
Edgard Garreau did not take after his father at all. Deep inside him was something insidious, something unsalvageable that Alphonse had always known to be there. But as with some of his gravest mistakes, he allowed his heart to dictate his decision rather than his mind. He let the boy stay. He took care of the bastard as one of his own. He built his empire up from the ground and it was also by his own doing that it fell. He had seen it from the very start, from when the boy's father was still alive to the crazed jump for power that followed after the deed. The only way to stop Edgard in his tracks was with a bullet between his eyes and for all the lives he had taken - he just couldn't.
He had saw the boy grow up, he had tried time and time again to guide Edgard, but despite all the attention and care Edgard received... He supposed there was a reason why some people were considered to be lost causes. Running a hand down his face he took a swig of the hard whiskey, wincing at the movement.
It had taken less than two weeks. What had taken him years to achieve had taken less than two weeks to fall apart. It was so laughably fragile, he didn't know where he was supposed to start from. He didn't have a chance to say goodbye, nobody knew where he was and the condition he was in. He was dead to rights by all means and the blood at the scene had spoke of such lengths. And until he was well enough to handle himself in a fight, he was going to settle in one place. Then he was going to reach out to his old connections - connections that few people knew he had from his days in the Direction générale de la sécurité extérieure with Clement.
The first would be Nahla. She among a few others were influential figures in crime, but they were also not directly tied into his family. Taking out one of his favored cigarettes, he frowned as he realized he was getting low on them, but he wasn't going to risk ordering a new package. He wasn't quite sure how thorough Edgard was - but he knew how thorough he could be and making amateur mistakes when trying to vanish wasn't on that list.
Lighting the cigarette, he took a long drag while staring out the windows of the worn down motel window. He had ditched the suit. It'd been a long time since he'd resume casual dress, but the situation had called for it. Pulling up his shirt, he looked at the gauze covering the bullet wounds, it wasn't holding as well as he would have hoped it to but there didn't seem to be signs of infection. It was the best he could manage with the underground job and constant movement. Letting go of the hem of shirt, he pulled himself to his feet, hissing softly at the pain that throbbed from his side. There was no time like the present to go get a new package of cigarettes even if it meant traversing these kind of alleyways at night.
Slipping on his jacket and pulling up the hood, he walked slowly. He wasn't rushed for time - there wasn't much for him to do at the given moment and he didn't want to risk pulling a stitch with how agonizing his wound already was. Hearing footsteps, he glanced up to see a crowd of young men fleeing. They didn't look exactly scared. They just seemed to want to leave a scene of a crime quickly which piqued his curiosity. Raising a brow, he found himself heading the way they had ran from in some stupid case of morbid curiosity. His hand wrapped around his knife inside his jacket, prepared for the worse.
What he was met with was the strong scent of blood - tangible and filling the air. Frowning, he found only one figure in the dim location, hunched over and clearly injured. He found himself able to relate. Hearing the individual speak to themself, he headed over gently nudging their leg with his foot. "Are you alright?" There was a hint of concern in his voice as he settled on the ground beside the person, utilizing his rusty Arabic.
Sighing heavily at the strain of the movement, he turned to try to make out their features in the dark. They looked the part of a local. It seemed like an unlucky attack and they had just drawn the short end of the stick. Not receiving a response, he frowned. He doubted that news of his disappearance had traveled that quickly. He was just a prestigious lawyer in Paris - not elsewhere and the fall of the Family was known, but not much else. Perhaps it was just that they were hurt. Hit with an idea, he wondered why the hell he had sat down in the first place.
Pushing himself to his feet, he glanced at the man on the ground. "I'll be right back." It would seem like his supply run came with the complimentary addition of a random stranger. Great. Just... great.
Rubbing his eyes roughly, he made his way to the convenience store down the block. Grabbing a bottle of hard whiskey and a package of camels - he'd have to compromise for now. Lighting the cigarette on his way back he was pleased to find the other man was still where he had been and didn't seem to be about to move anytime soon. Settling back down again, he offered the stranger the bottle of whiskey after opening it. "You don't look so good," he said after a moment. Like he was one to talk.
"Do you have a place around here?" He glanced around to make sure they were still alone and the men who had done this weren't coming back. That was more trouble than he'd sign up for. "Anywhere I can bring you back to? Or I'll have to take you to my place." And given that there was a lot of blood stained clothes, alcohol, and things lying about he didn't want the stranger to see that. F*ck, he didn't want to go back to that but the desire to clean up the mess was just nonexistent. Not with the consistent pain and whatnot. The intrusive thoughts definitely didn't help either.
Tilting his head, he waited for an answer.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2018 19:40:23 GMT -5
Bruises were...okay. They were painful, yes, and they would become more painful - but it could've been worse. It could've been much worse. If anything, the four men had come out of it more harmed than he had; they had not expected teeth and claws on the target they had chosen, for they had picked someone who had looked vulnerable. It reminded him vaguely of his younger days, and to a degree, he could understand. They had no expected both a harder target and a knife - and so they had paid the price. But so had Gale. He had lost his money; though he was glad to see that they had ditched the wallet a little ahead of him. With a soft grunt, he reached out to pick it up and draw it closer to him. Nope, they hadn't stolen his ID. That was good, because it wasn't even real.
When he tried to push himself to his feet, the world spun and he dropped to his knees again. He hadn't noticed them hitting his head - but then again, he'd been more focused on protecting vitals. On protecting softer places. It didn't feel like a concussion, but his head would definitely be sore. That much he knew.
He was glad that nobody seemed to be around. He knew he was a mess. Hair mussed up, a scrape on his cheek (from falling? He didn't know, but it stung), clothes ruffled. It was clear that he had been in a fight and he hated it. Hated that there was a slim chance of Tahia leaving her room to see if he got her anything while he was out, didn't want her to see him like this. Gale wondered if it was childish to wait until she would be asleep or wrapped up in her own world; logic told him that it was better to get home. Soon. There was no reason to be out now that his money had been taken and damn, his lack of cigarettes hurt. He pulled out his near-empty packet and frowned at it thoughtfully.
It was at this point that he became aware of footsteps. Rough Arabic followed and he listened, but didn't respond. Instead, he kept his forehead resting against the cool sidewalk. As night began to truly set in, Luxor became a cool place. Not as cold as the desert, but certainly close enough. The streets here would be empty for a while, and so he felt his entire body tense at the stranger.
Then the footsteps left, and he was alone again. It took all of Gale's energy to push himself into a kneeling position - and even then, he rested his ass against his heels and kept his head lowered, teeth worrying his lower lip. Slowly - and yet so steadily - he raised a hand up to push against his head. Migraine... he thought. It would be much better with alcohol or cigarettes, of which he had neither. Well. The cigarettes were a maybe, but he shoved them into his pocket to save up. He'd already had a few today and he supposed he could afford to save them until he had enough money to spare. Frustrating.
When the stranger returned, he managed to glance up and squint thoughtfully at the man. He was clearly not a local - skin a little paler than most, eyes too blue, and something pained about him. Gale couldn't place his finger on what. He squinted before he moved slowly to pick up his knife, though showed that he was not going to attack by returning it to his boot. A fresh wave of pain went up his arm and he tensed - but it was not too badly injured. Bruising. Ugh. He shifted his weight until he sat on the concrete with a soft huff, legs crossing. The stranger seemed to be a kind one even though he seemed, to Gale, to be a pained one - though perhaps he was reading the man wrong. Maybe he was just a tourist worried for someone else. Always a possibility. There were people who felt empathy deeply, and though Gale was not one of those people he supposed he could understand to a degree.
Instead of responding, his gaze flicked down to the whiskey. Logic told him to ignore it but the bruising (and his lack of any alcohol at home) told him to take it. After a few seconds, he took it gently and took a quick swig before he offered it back, swallowing thickly. Cutting down on this? Yeah, no. He shook his head a little before studying the kind stranger for a few moments longer. White man...bad Arabic...
"They are worse off than I am," his English was notably rough, his accent thick - but he felt like it was better than this man's Arabic. "They got spooked. It is okay."
It did not feel okay. Regardless, he put his hands against the sidewalk and pushed himself up, swaying heavily before he dropped back down to his knees - though his quick reflexes caused his hands to dart out before he could cause more damage to himself. He groaned and leaned against the wall he was near. It wasn't the worst he'd had, but it was definitely annoying.
"Have an apartment nearby," he squinted at the other man. "It's not even five minutes away."
That was more embarrassing to admit than he would've liked. He'd been jumped so close to his apartment - that was stupid, but he hadn't been paying much mind. If he'd noticed sooner that there had been dangers lurking, he might've chosen a different route. As it was, he'd become so used to life in this part of Luxor that it hadn't occurred to him. People were prone to underestimating Gale, yes; but this had been on a whole other level. It hadn't been underestimation but greed. A weaker man could have been killed, a younger man could have been traumatised. There were small sparks that he could see where he was glad that it had been him who had been attacked.
And yet, even then - he didn't get this man's kindness. To approach a random stranger on the street despite the blood (though it was not Gale's) and the fleeing teenagers. All it would take was for the kids to come back to check that their mark wasn't entirely okay for them both to end up in trouble, though he doubted they would.
Stubborn as ever, Gale tried to stand again and found himself leaning heavily against the wall. One of them had done more damage to his leg than he would've liked. It would be fine in the morning - bar a possible limp - but even so, it proved a pain to walk on at present. He shifted his weight to try to focus it on his other leg, but this didn't seem to be a particularly brilliant idea, either. He tested his weight on his bad leg again and gritted his teeth, eyes closing briefly. Sh*t, ow, he thought. And then - it's fine, I've had worse.
"You are tourist?" he said, looking up from where he'd been focused on finding his footing. "Eh. English? Or something else? I speak a few languages. Chances are I speak other languages better than I speak English."
A few. He could imagine Tahia laughing at the idea of a few languages in Gale's mind. A few hundred, he could hear - almost in her voice. And yet you've never learned how to fight. F*ckin' genius. Aced that, didn't you?
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Mar 17, 2018 6:13:14 GMT -5
Watching the man collect himself slowly, he waited for the man to grab the bottle of whiskey. It took a moment of contemplation. Interesting, to say the least. As it was offered back to him, however, he raised an eyebrow, surprised that the man didn't just keep it to deal with the pain. He could see the man's gaze search him for any telling signs, attempting to read him. Part of him wondered what the other man saw - did he recognize his exhaustion? The fact that he was injured?
He wasn't quite sure, but he hoped that he wasn't made by the stranger he had offered help to. That would be a serious case of deja vu. Hearing the man's sudden switch to English he found himself both impressed but also equally unimpressed. Had his Arabic been that bad? Chuckling softly to himself, he shook his head in disbelief. Of course it had to be. He hadn't practiced in years and even when he had spoken it well, it hadn't been anywhere near fluent. It was just understandable.
Lifting his head, he spared the other man a smile before responding in the man's choice of language. His french accent was light, but present and he found that the two of them matched in that regard. "That's impressive," he chuckled, amused by the other man. There were four men if he recalled correctly and though the stranger was armed with a knife, that was still an impressive victory. There was something about the other man's confidence that was telling that he was not just a simple man.
However, the man seemed to have a streak of stubbornness. Despite his clear pain, there was a reluctance to admit to it. He could sympathize at the very least as he watched the man stubbornly trying to get on his feet. Frowning thoughtfully, he pulled himself to his feet - whiskey in tow - before extending a hand to the other. This was a bad idea, but he wasn't quite certain how the other man would respond to him just manhandling him in a manner that wouldn't aggravate his own wounds.
Ah well, with some help from the wall, he was certain the two of them would be able to stay on their feet long enough to be able to actually start moving. "Take it easy on me, I'm a little old," he offered jokingly, though the personal jibe stung a little to his own pride and vanity, but he would die before admitting to his injuries to a stranger. It made him vulnerable and that was considering he had no idea what this man was capable of. It was smarter to take the safer alternative and not mention it. He shouldn't have even offered his help if he was honestly making a smart play by play, but it was too late for that now.
Hearing the stranger admit to having an apartment nearby, Alphonse barely managed to contain his surprise. That was a bold attack from the these young men then. Either that, or the man wasn't paying as much attention to his surroundings as he should've. It was normal in those not in the occupation which was strange because the man gave off that kind of presence. The kind that he recognized because he also possessed.
He didn't look intimidating or the part of a ferocious fighter, but Alphonse had no doubt that in a situation where it was life or death - the man would show his true colors just as he did now. Though he had been merciful, all things considered. Or perhaps he wasn't as versed in hand to hand combat as the scenario gave onto. Given the kind of people that performed acts like this - it was about power or necessity and they rarely wanted to risk their lives for it. Cut off the head - take down their leader - or shake them up a bit and they would flee on their own accord.
Holding his tongue, he decided it wiser not to ask. "Alright, just point out the way as we go, okay?"
He hoped at the very least, the man would accept his help. It seemed like his leg was in a lot of pain which meant that with Alphonse's help, the two should be able to make it back with minimal problems.
The man's question caught him by surprise, however, and he found himself raising an eyebrow in amusement at the question. A tourist of all things. If he was going to linger around to look at the sights, maybe it would count him as one. But the situation was much different and he was seeking refuge in a place far from home. He could only smile at the stranger before offering him a halfhearted shrug, "I'm on a business trip." He said before contemplating the man's offer.
He didn't mind English and his Arabic wasn't up to par for the other man, so perhaps if he offered he would be able to be true to his word. "I speak French," he said after a beat. He wondered exactly how many languages the stranger spoke, but he didn't bother to ask. There was no need to be so prying into another man's life. After he got him home, that would be it. He was going to leave before his face was on the tv and he was made.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Always so stupid. And they called him heartless.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 29, 2018 18:34:41 GMT -5
He wondered, idly, if by switching to English he had upset or offended the other man; though that didn't seem to be the case, as he didn't speak up against it. Gale glanced away upon realising that he had been staring. There was no reason for someone who did not live here to be here. It was the sort of place that people went to hide (just as he was), or where people had to be born in to know of. Considering the man's Arabic, he doubted he'd been born here. Hiding, then, he thought. It was a little unsettling, but at the same time, he knew that sometimes that was how the world worked; criminals took better care of criminals than general workers took after each-other.
The accent made him blink, and he smiled faintly at the compliment. Regardless, he couldn't help but be a little self-conscious; whereas the other's accent was light, his own was a thicker one, less-practiced. He rarely had reasons to speak English, and as such, he hadn't bothered to look much into pronunciation. It was the sort of thing that would probably backfire one day, but he seemed to be understood so far.
When the hand extended to him, he flinched - albeit unwillingly. For a moment, he simply considered his options and, again, he studied the stranger with narrowed eyes.
"You don't seem that old," he said softly; almost in an accusatory tone. "It's okay, I don't need that much support."
Even as he spoke, Gale's steps wavered just approaching the wall. He frowned as he pressed a hand to it and he exhaled slowly. It was probably just some bad bruising - but damn, it hurt. Probably jolted his knee awkwardly. It would heal and he would be okay, but it was embarrassing to be seen like this. Tahia's going to kill me, he thought, and it was this thought that brought mild amusement. Gale took a moment to take a deep breath, paused before he began to move, nodding his head to show that he accepted the man's help. A little voice in the back of his head told him that it wasn't the best idea he'd had - but he didn't feel particularly stable on his feet.
"A business trip," the way he repeated the words were blunt, as if he understood the implications behind them. Regardless, his faint smile remained on his face. It hid any shred of worry that he was in more danger than he would've liked. "I see. French, though," his laugh was quiet. "I speak that fluently, so we're already in a better place."
It was obviously true. There was barely a hint of an accent in his spoken French; perhaps the telltale sign that it was Egyptian-based French and not native to France, but otherwise, it was perfect. Considering it was his second language, it ought to have been perfect. Being incapable of losing languages, he supposed, was definitely a bonus of his memory. Instead of continuing the conversation (even though he had the ability to), he obeyed the strange man's words and pointed out the direction to go.
He'd underestimated how far he'd actually been, as it was getting close to ten minutes before he spotted the run-down apartment building. Truth be told, it had no right being called a complex, even. From his pocket, he drew out his keys and unlocked the gate that tried its best to succeed against invaders, and found that it was barely standing as it was. Once they were in, he closed the gate and winced at the crashing sound, and tried locking it for all of two minutes before he cussed at it colourfully (this time in Arabic), and headed towards the steps. For once, he was grateful that they were gently sloping and not harsh at all.
Getting to his apartment was almost a relief, and he flicked through his keychain briefly before he found the house key and unlocked the door. Gale pushed it open further to allow the other man in first, though he took off his shoes as if to show what was done.
"I apologise for the inconvenience," he smiled faintly, eyebrows raised. "Come in. You should rest a little before you go on your way."
Gale didn't know if the attackers were still in the area, either. He held no doubt that this man could handle himself, but there was something off. He reminds me of some of the people I've had to tend to, he realised, with mild surprise. Was the man injured? There had to be reasons, but he decided not to pry too much. Instead, he focused on his humble apartment. It was quiet and comfortable; though it wasn't personalised, there were some family photographs pinned on the fridge in the kitchenette area, his consoles sitting underneath the little television. Tahia's homework sat on the kitchen table with her feathery ballpoint pen.
He didn't know what he expected - to be left alone? His daughter's curiosity often got the better of her, and he heard the door to the one bedroom in the apartment open as she came to greet him. She knew better to approach, however, when she saw the stranger. Instead, she leaned against the wall of the small corridor and squinted at the two of them.
"Who's this?" she asked Gale, under the assumption that this man did not speak Arabic. Gale smiled wearily.
"A kind man. He helped me home." he, of course, was aware of the stranger's ability to speak Arabic (as bad as he thought it was). Tahia crossed her arms and frowned deeply, eyes narrowing but back straightening, as if she were taller than the older man. About the same height, Gale found himself musing, but he decided not to mention this.
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Mar 30, 2018 14:49:37 GMT -5
For a man who was capable of handling himself, it was not hard for Alphonse to tell that this man was not a simple one. His flinch wasn't due to these injuries, Alphonse could tell that much. It was because the other man expected violence and Alphonse could sympathize with so he didn't ask. Hearing the man reject his offer, he sighed and backed up. At least the stranger was feeding his ego slightly and he offered him a small smile of amusement in response. "Maybe you're right," he answered, amusement evident in his tone. Letting the other have space to collect himself, he could tell from the unsteadiness of the man's steps that he wouldn't be able to get far on his own without collapsing multiple times first.
Before he could say anything about how this was decisively not a good idea, he saw the man pause and nod. Accepting the gesture as consent for his assistance, he moved over to the other man to help him. There was a clear implication, that in addition to everything, the man didn't believe in his cover story of a 'business trip'. Well, it was originally him fleeing for his life, but now that he had had time to clear his mind, it had divulged into something like a business trip. "I have a friend here who will be funding my business," he answered with a small shrug. "And we are, aren't we? This makes it easier for both of us."
The trip was relatively short and despite the strain the other man's weight put on his stitches - he had known this would not be a good idea for him - they made it back relatively safe and in the meantime he had figured out somethings about the man.
He didn't like others touching him without his own consent. That was simple enough, just give him space. He was Egyptian - the heavy accent in his English and the slight hint of it in his French meant that he was no stranger to Egypt. Maybe to this city, but he knew the culture and the workings of it. And if Alphonse was right about this man coming from unsavory origins similar to his own - his presence was too similar to not have taken a life before. It was something about the way he held himself, not the look in his eyes or the gentleness of his voice.
He could have fallen right under the radar if they had walked past each other on the streets and didn't see one another. He just had a quiet competence to him with a streak of stubbornness. As they arrived at his apartment gate, Alphonse had no idea what he had expected in this area. He wasn't living in a grand place either so there wasn't much he could say about the run down building. So when it wasn't much to take in, he wasn't surprised. Even the gate put up a valiant fight, refusing to open for a good amount of time and then refusing to do the opposite and close after it finally was pried open.
It was amusing all things considered and he smiled slightly to himself. As they arrived at the man's door, he observed the way he removed his shoes and did the same to the worn down pair of sneakers that Djamel's contact had pawned off to him. It still amazed him that while he was more or less dead to rights, he had turned to Djamel of all people. And it surprised him even more that the other man had taken it in himself to actually help him rather than leave him to die.
"It's no inconvenience, I don't have anything pressing and you looked like you needed the help," he said, looking up to meet the other man's gaze. Glancing inside after the stranger, he turned briefly to look over his shoulder. It was still dark outside and those men weren't necessarily gone from the area. But there was no saying he hadn't been made by this man either. Smiling slightly, he found himself entering. He'd already taken off his sneakers, might as well.
The worst that could happen was that he would actually be dead. As he should have been. And his body was already protesting against him being upright.
"Thank you," he said softly, "I hope it's not too much of a bother."
His eyes wandered around the apartment, catching in the small signs of life in the apartment but also taking interest in how unsettled it was. Save for a few images and personal belongings, it was definitely not a permanent residence. So he moved around a lot. Hearing a door open, he looked towards the source of the sound and saw a young woman. She seemed to be the one in the pictures, so it seemed that the stranger didn't live alone. She was too young to be apart of whatever business the man was apart of.
Hearing her talk to the stranger about him, he didn't respond nor did he react instead allowing the other man to handle his companion as she watched him and he watched both of them wearily. Sighing, there was something about her gaze that made it looked like she was sizing him up. She was tall, he would give her that. He didn't think she was taller than him, but for someone so young, her height was impressive. Settling down into a stray chair with a slight wince of pain, he hoped it wasn't rude, but honestly if things were going to get ugly, he wanted to be sitting at the very least. Everything ached and whereas he would have liked to be on his feet usually, sitting was just more appealing.
"A friend?" He asked, raising an eyebrow towards the stranger as he nodded to the young woman. Perhaps a student. Some sort of protege or an accomplice. Maybe his child? Alphonse wasn't quite sure he could place it. If the other man didn't answer him in French, then he supposed he would have to go back to Arabic.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2018 2:16:56 GMT -5
If there was one thing that drew Gale in, it was a mystery. It was a surefire way to gain his attention, and the kind stranger was certainly an intriguing one. On their way over, he'd figured out very little. A business trip. It sounded like a cover-up but at the same time, it could've been true. Just not in the sense that most people would've thought of it as being. He exhaled slowly as he sat down on the couch, wincing a little as he did so.
He found himself tensing briefly as the man spoke and he remained silent for a few moments before he mustered up a tired smile, glad of the background noise from the news. Had he not turned the television off? No wonder Tahia seemed so frustrated.
"It's not a bother," he said quietly.
Tahia murmured something before she moved to the kitchenette area, opening the fridge with more force than necessary. With one arm, she flicked the kettle on, while with the other, she took the half-empty carton of milk out of the fridge. She shut it with her foot and grabbed three mismatched mugs with cartoon characters on, content with occupying herself. While the water boiled, the girl reached up and grabbed their medic kit. Her throw would've impressed him had he not been used to it, and Gale simply raised one arm to stop it hitting his face. It dropped to the couch beside him and, after a moment's hesitation, he leaned forward to check on his knee. That was where the source of the pain was coming from, at least.
Even with the stranger here, there was a sort of peace to the quiet sound of his daughter in the kitchen and the sound of the news. When the strange spoke again, he raised an eyebrow.
"Daughter," it wasn't sensitive information. Yes, he did his best to protect her; but she was not a damsel in distress, and on top of that - something about this man told him that it was not dangerous information. "Believe it or not."
The kettle clicked softly and hissed as Tahia poured the water into each of the mugs, before she returned to the living area. She set each mug on the table before she reached over and flicked his knee. He hissed in response, but she didn't seem too concerned so he doubted that there was much damage done. The limp would stay for now, but he had no doubt that it would pass. He didn't miss that her gaze settled on the stranger, once again sizing him up. With a long sigh, he decided to switch to a more private language. He could only hope that the man did not speak it.
"What's wrong?" he asked in Punjabi. Tahia made a little sound as she set down the sugar and milk on the table before she sat on the floor, crossing her legs and continuing to watch the stranger. "You can tell me, Nanu."
She didn't respond, instead choosing to pour far too much milk and sugar into her own tea. He smiled at this and put a hand over his own mug to stop her from dictating what he drank. Her reactions to strangers were generally rather trustworthy; he supposed that it came with being a troublemaker. She knows something's off about him, he thought idly, leaning back in his seat and stretching his bad leg out slowly. It definitely wasn't broken or displaced - he just had to force weight onto it, but damn it was painful. They had to have kicked at an odd angle. No doubt it would be bruised for a while. He reached up to run a hand through his hair and watched the stranger from the corner of his eye, took note that Tahia was more open in her investigations. It wasn't until she spoke that he realised how deep her curiosity ran.
"You're leaning pretty far to one side," she said, this time utilising French. Hers was a rougher sort, more obviously Egyptian. She hadn't learned from Gale; hers was the sort picked up from the streets and from her friends, from his own sister on the off-chance she spoke it. She wouldn't let him teach her further, either. She seemed quite proud of herself for learning on her own, and he wasn't going to take that away from her. "Injured, are we?"
"Nanu--"
Her eyebrow raised, as if daring him to stop her interrogation. Gale couldn't see any reason to stop her, so he gave a helpless shrug and leaned back, head tilting to look up at the ceiling. Muffled music came from one of his neighbours - once again, it had only started once he'd gotten home. Tahia had probably done something to offend them. Again.
"Y'know," she smiled lazily at the stranger. "We don't get foreigners in these parts. Nothing to see here. Who are you?"
Gale kept his gaze on the ceiling, found himself wishing for more strength. He wanted to sleep, but it seemed that Tahia had plans to push at the other man's buttons. She was a curious kid, he'd give her that; damned determined, too. There was a stubborn streak (he couldn't even pretend not to know where it came from) that often caused her to end up in trouble. He found himself tensing a little as he prepared to intervene if anything happened. He was not as relaxed as he appeared on the surface, and he felt the weight of Tahia's gaze as she glanced at him, however briefly it was. She seemed more interested in the stranger, and it occurred to him that the medical kit wasn't for him.
He'd been a medic for his old gang, sure; but whatever knowledge he had was surpassed by Tahia, by her late-night cramming and her variety of medical textbooks, by the hands-on experiences she'd had when he'd come home deep into the night, blood staining his clothes. A steady heart and a sharper mind than she gave herself credit for. She was not booksmart, but she was trying.
Though he had come to the conclusion that the stranger was injured, he hadn't thought to ask. Others had their own business. His daughter, it seemed, was more forward and seemed to be interested in finding out what danger they were in. He didn't fault her, but decided not to point out that whatever danger the man brought with him was not worse than the danger that Gale, himself, had brought upon them.
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Mar 31, 2018 3:09:57 GMT -5
There was something decisively quiet about the man's presence. It wasn't just his soft spoken manner, but it was his ability to make himself take up less space. With the entrance of his daughter - he could work with that - his presence seemed to lessen even more. And her loud presence didn't help with that, but it was the kind of presence he knew to respect because it meant that this man could be dangerous when he wanted to be and become nothing when he wanted to be forgotten. Smiling slightly at the way they interacted, he rested his head against the wall and watched the duo. It was familial and left him with a pang of longing for his own family, but that was out of the question.
Returning wasn't an option for him. Not right now, at the very least.
He decided at the very least, the man was being kind and hospitable to him. She didn't seem to mind him any attention yet, preoccupied with her own actions. When she moved for the medical kit he raised an eyebrow. He didn't think the other man's injuries warranted that. Though the fact that she threw it at her father amused him.
"She takes after you," and now that he truly looked at the duo, she did. Certainly she didn't get her height from her father, but they shared enough features to be distinctively related. She wasn't gentle with her father either, but it didn't seem like her actions were done with malice but annoyance. And then he caught her gaze again even as she placed down three mugs. He hadn't expected the hospitality in all honesty and given the way she watched him, he had expected withdrawn hostility.
It was something more like intrusive curiosity with a side of weariness. He offered her a small smile even as the stranger utilized a different language. He couldn't quite place it, but that already made a total of four languages the other man spoke which... in and of itself was impressive. The desire to speak about private matters without him made sense, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of caution though it came with a sense of detachment.
He had learned in the past weeks that he didn't quite mind dying. It was just an ingrained sense of survival that had kept him alive for this long. It was something he had learned in the 13th and it had been something that had stuck with him in the Directorate. It had been what had distinguished him from other associates in the family under Emilien and it was what had kept him alive after all these years. It was a part of him that he hadn't realized he didn't want until as of late.
Whatever her father had hoped to achieve by talking to her and only her hadn't work judging by the way she addressed him. Her french wasn't quite as polished as her father's and that was a point of interest to him. He would keep that in mind. Closing his eyes briefly as she addressed him, he realized this was an interrogation of sorts. The kind that was backed by a healthy level of caution and a dangerous amount of curiosity.
Opening one eye to observe her he chuckled softly. It wasn't something he could exactly hide. Two weeks wasn't enough time for it to heal on its own accord and the fact that he was on the move and running on fumes didn't help the process of healing. So his hand was exposed. He wasn't quite surprised, but at least it told him something about the duo. They were observant. They noticed the small things, it was something the job demanded and it was something they possessed.
Watching the duo, he could tell that her father didn't quite approve of her actions. He went to vocalize his opinions, but clearly something unspoken between the two - he highly doubted it was an imbalance of power but a certain amount of respect between them - made the stranger stop and allow her to continue questioning him. Smiling slightly, he hummed softly in agreement.
So that was what the medical kit was for. That made sense, he supposed. Though the hospitality didn't. They were strangers and it would have been best for both of them if it had stayed that way. The additional questions were straight forward enough. She certainly didn't mince her words. There was a bluntness to them and a lack of grace that clearly made her words a demand for an answer rather than a request, but he knew the sort. Silence would only frustrate her further.
"What of it?" He said after a beat before continuing with what she wanted to know of him. A name? He could give her... something to work with at least. "I'm Al." But he wasn't going to allow her games of twenty questions to be one sided though. Earlier when the stranger had called out to her... it was possible that was her name. "And who are you?"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2018 3:46:12 GMT -5
Tahia was her own force, and he knew it. She knew how to handle herself despite her age, knew how to talk to people in his line of work. Knew how to hold herself in a fight; though it hurt to see her so young with the scars she had, he knew that it was bound to happen sooner or later. Even if he tried to discourage her from following his path, he knew that she made her own mind up. She always had. Her determination to prove that she was worth something was admirable, and the lengths she went to to complete her goals was equally impressive.
"Yeah," he said with a smile. He was glad that she took after him in everything but height, glad that they look similar. It was more common for them to be mistaken for siblings at this point - she looked older than she was while he looked younger, and he could see where they got that idea from. "She does."
He kept his gaze on the ceiling, clearly choosing to have no part in the interrogation. There were some things that Tahia had to learn the hard way; many people fell victim to her strong-willed ways, but he had a feeling that she was going to learn an important lesson. About time, too, he thought idly, pushing the medical kit away from himself in an absent motion.
With the two engaged in conversation, it gave him time to think. The attack didn't feel like a random attack, seemed too well-planned. They had known when to back away, had probably been planning on leaving unscathed. Perhaps they hadn't expected the knife usage; which was strange. He knew plenty of people in this area who carried knives solely because of how dangerous the area could be. He had a feeling he knew what was going on, but did he want to acknowledge it? Not really. They were supposed to be moving in a week at most, but being pressured would mean that she would get the satisfaction of chasing him out of his home country. Again.
Tahia's low sigh brought him back to the present and he risked a glance in that direction. There was a small frown pulling at her features and she tucked some of her hair behind her ear in a frustrated motion, head tilting to the side.
"Nanu. How long ago did you get injured, and will you let me see it? It might be worth checking on it since we have supplies here," do no harm but take no sh*t - she'd learned that from Gale a long time ago, and he was surprised that she was utilising it here. Perhaps it was the sort of air that the stranger - Al, he now knew - gave off.
He seems like he'd be good in a position of authority, he mused to himself, shifting his weight to put his legs up on the couch. Tahia shot him a sharp glance as if to ask why? before she refocused on her...patient? He wasn't sure. It seemed that she'd decided that yes, this man was going to get medical attention whether he needed it or not. Gale smiled to himself as he took a sip of his tea. Still too hot, but that was fine. He watched the news from the corner of his eye and, considering there was an odd man in his home, he seemed (and felt) relatively relaxed.
Perhaps it was because he doubted that Al would help and then turn on them, or maybe it was because Tahia had picked up on the injury and an injured man was in no position to turn on helpers at this point in time. He wasn't sure, and he knew that he didn't trust the man - but damn if it wasn't hard to not want to make him proud or some sh*t.
Fatherly. That was it. Al gave off an oddly fatherly vibe - but he wasn't sure if that was a bad thing, yet. He doubted that his daughter had picked up on that; Al was probably relatively old in her eyes, and as such, she had a different view. She definitely had to have seen something in him for her to decide that she was going to patch him up - she even reached over to grab the medical kit while she took a long drink from her own tea.
"That's Gale, by the way," she jerked a thumb to him and he raised an eyebrow in response. "Because he's not going to tell you his name, because you told me your name, not him. He plays games."
He hummed into his mug and smiled some more. Giving the game away, he thought, reaching over to set the mug back on the table before he rested his hands over his stomach and tilting his head back.
"I don't play games," he said softly, though his smile remained.
Tahia made a quiet sound at the back of her throat as she flipped open the medical kit and set out some gauze and tape. He wondered if she was going to give the poor man any say in the situation; she was preparing as if he'd already agreed to the terms. It was true that she had always been a straight-forward person, but damn if it wasn't obvious now. Perhaps it was because she dealt with him in a gentler way; he hadn't really seen her deal with anyone else's wounds, and he was often drunk and/or tired when she had to deal with the wounds he gained. Truth be told, it was probably his first time watching with a completely clear mind. With this in mind, he pushed himself up a little and decided to watch with a cautious gaze. He remained surprisingly tense even with the illusion of being relaxed; if he needed to, he could (and would) move quickly.
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Mar 31, 2018 23:39:05 GMT -5
He recognized the pride in the way the other man responded when it involved his daughter. It was something worth respecting and whatever they had, as small and simplistic as it was, was enough for the two of them. A part of him felt warmed by the affection the two shared, but it didn't last long before he was reminded of exactly what he didn't have. It didn't leave a good taste in his mouth. At the end of the day they had each other and part of him wanted to envy that. Maybe he had tried to do more than he was capable of. It would not be the first time he had done something of the sort.
But a part of him knew that their problems were hidden under the surface as well. They weren't transparent and though they were happy, if they were here, they were not well off either. Or perhaps they were not safe or some combination of the two. It was hard to place and though in any other scenario, he would have pried in due time to find out what he wanted to know, he found himself distant to even himself. Different. Like he only remembered what it took to survive.
Smiling slightly at Nanu's - so that had been her name after all - response, he decided that she wasn't bad either. Neither her nor her father seemed exactly threatening. They were dangerous, yes, but threatening? Hardly. Hell, in some ways, she reminded him of Leopald. No nonsense, brisk, to the point, and more than ready to do what was necessary of him especially when it involved Alphonse. If it had been a minor scrape, he would have shoved it off as he usually did. But the aching wound from the two bullets he had taken just barely two weeks ago demanded attention and he considered her words carefully.
He had had one stranger poke and prod inside of him, barely keeping him out of a grave so he supposed letting Nanu try her hand wasn't a terrible option. He was just afraid that telling them too much would result in trouble that, despite everything, he was unwilling to handle. It was an unspoken weariness that he didn't exactly acknowledge but recognized.
It sunk deep into his bones and left him exhausted. He hadn't been able to get his routine back into track and if he couldn't find his footing again he wouldn't be able to do what was expected - no, required - of him. They needed him. Everyday he searched news of what was happening in Paris. It became uglier with each day. Bodies found in ditches, too gruesome to be shown to the public. All things he could have stopped from happening had he been there. Had he been more capable.
He wasn't even sure if his family was okay.
But the lingering knowledge that he would die if he stayed and that he was dangerous to them kept him away. Sighing, he realized he had yet to answer Nanu after a good minute or so. "It happened about two weeks ago and yes," his eyes flicked from her face to the medical kit in her hands and back up to make eye contact with her, "You can take a look."
The backdoor stitch up job he had gotten wasn't the best so he doubted it could get any worse. Moving slowly as not to alarm them and also not aggravate the wound, he unzipped the hoodie before undoing the buttons to the light short sleeved shirt he wore. It wasn't the best look, he was well aware of that, but it certainly did help when he had to get dressed. It wasn't like he had help with the clothes. The gauze didn't look like it was doing too well so he had low expectations for the injuries underneath.
Well, this wasn't a good first impression by any means. Pulling his gaze away from the injury he looked back up at Nanu and raised an eyebrow sheepishly. Last he checked they weren't healing quite well but he hadn't had high expectations to begin with. Not with how poorly he had been treating them.
Hearing Nanu tell him about Gale - well that was interesting. He hadn't expected to get her father's name as well, but he accepted it. It fitted them. Gale and Nanu. He had been in scenarios similar and with their names, he already felt less isolated in the scenario. He had been in scenarios where partners would only reveal information about themselves and not their companion. It usually allowed them to get more information from him than he would get from them, but clearly Nanu wasn't having any of it.
As she exposed Gale's game, he offered the other man a small smile. "That wouldn't be the first time somebody played those games with me," he finally said, deciding to amuse her with an answer. "Though it's quite a pleasure to meet you, Nanu. Gale." The scenario would have been more dignified if it wasn't... well. Whatever this was.
Perhaps, in other circumstances, this situation would have been pleasant. But strange enough, despite everything... this wasn't bad.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2018 1:15:12 GMT -5
Curiosity, perhaps, was what had brought Gale to allow this stranger into his temporary home. A need to offer something in return for assistance, too - but mostly curiosity. This man knew how to handle himself and yet, and yet. He didn't seem to be okay. Gale wrinkled his nose and tilted his head to watch with narrowed eyes, just in case Tahia needed his help.
He took too long to respond. That was one of the first things that he noticed. Now, he sat up and watched more closely, a small frown flitting over his features. This was familiar, a distant memory that felt far too clear for comfort. Lost in thoughts, maybe, but there was something there - something deeper, something darker. Trauma. It wasn't pleasant and it wasn't fun to watch, but like recognised like and sometimes - just sometimes - he hated it. There were strangers who could tell from simple movements that he made what he had been through and though he didn't know the extent of it, he knew that whatever it had been was bad. Too bad to talk about to strangers, and he understood that. He didn't dare pry.
"Ya Allah," the quiet words caught Gale by surprised and he raised an eyebrow in Tahia's direction. It seemed, however, that whatever had upset her had already caught her attention. She was quick to sanitise her hands before she glanced up at Al briefly, something like disapproval on her face. "These stitches need to be redone," her tone was blunt. "Whoever did them rushed them and they're misaligned."
She pulled something out of her bag and if he wasn't mistaken, it was sanitising alcohol. Uh oh, he thought, finally moving so that he could see the wound properly. He winced when he saw them - they had not been cared for. No wonder Tahia had seemed distressed.
"They're not games," he said, which theoretically was not a lie. Gale rested against the elbow of the couch and watched with narrowed eyes, a small frown crossing his features. "It's nice to meet you too."
Tahia made an idle gesture at him and he realised, after a beat, what it meant. With an apologetic smile to Al, he stood up with some effort and limped towards Tahia's room. It took him a few moments to locate what she wanted; her suture kit. Once he had it in hand, he cast a vaguely judgemental look to the mess of clothes on the floor and the makeup on the dressing table before he limped back to the living room and sat down carefully, offering his daughter the kit. She took it and glanced up to Al, raising an eyebrow as she did so.
"If you don't mind, I can restitch this and it'll be easier to move and they'll heal better. See, here," she gently moved her finger to a bump in the stitching, "the skin was pulled too far up, and when it heals - which it hasn't, by the way, it's leaking - it's going to be bunched-up scarring. Bullet wounds tend to do that," her smile was not kind. "You must've had stitches on your back, too, right? It looks like someone was digging around inside you."
"Nanu..."
"It's true," she didn't move her gaze from Al. "You're in really bad shape. I don't know how you're even standing," she looked down again and sat back on her heels, exhaling slowly. "In all honesty, these wounds require bed-rest to heal. I get it's not always possible, but if you find somewhere safe-ish, you should probably try to settle down for a day or two. Even if you don't sleep, being still for a little while would be greatly beneficial."
There was no point in trying to intervene, so Gale simply sat back and half-closed his eyes. He was tired, but he wasn't going to leave Tahia unattended - even if she had the situation handled and the man was injured, he wasn't sure if she could handle herself. Yes, she was a good fighter; experience often made for a better fighter than raw power, though, so he knew to be cautious. He rested his chin on his hand and watched sleepily. If he needed to, he could intervene and work on what Tahia was doing - but for now, he trusted her judgement. She had done this enough times that he had little doubt that her steady hands and keen eyes would be able to handle this situation.
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Apr 1, 2018 2:08:52 GMT -5
Leaving the injury in Nanu's hopefully skilled hands, he rested his head against a cool surface, closing his eyes once again to rest them briefly from the strain and attempt to quell the headache that was building up. He wished that he had downed painkillers before he had left. He hadn't expected a short trip for bad cigarettes to last this long. As she peeled off the gauze, he let her be. Honestly, he was more than willing to let her do what she wanted, but when she spoke up he opened his eyes to watch her cautiously.
The expression she gave him wasn't exactly kind. It was like she was judging him for the injury - and yes, it had been two weeks, it should have been in better condition than this. He could see where she was coming from and he could only offer her a small shrug that didn't require too much movement. She was straight to the point as well with what she wanted and he wasn't surprised at this point. Given her reaction, he could tell that she was hardly pleased with what she saw.
Humming in agreement with her assessment despite being delirious and half dead when the patch up job had been done, he decided that Nanu probably knew a fair bit more on doctoring wounds and injury management than he did. "You're probably not wrong," he murmured softly, closing his eyes once again.
Hearing Gale speak, however, he actually decided to open his eyes and watch the other man carefully. Nanu was not just a child, she was capable but at the end of the day, she was young and she was a child. She could probably kill him, but something already told him she wouldn't. But Gale on the other hand... He was a harder one to read and if there was one he had to be cautious of, it wouldn't be the one ready to open him up and stitch him back together.
The small frown across the man's features made him raise an eyebrow despite the sting of the sanitation alcohol. He nearly winced due to surprise and pain, but he caught himself in time. He supposed he should have been paying more attention, but at this point he wasn't quite concerned. He supposed he trusted them enough if they were going to put resources into helping him. In all honesty, if he was going to die, he wouldn't quite mind dying at their hands. Well, that was if it was quick.
"Mm," he barely managed in response to Gale. The wounds hadn't hurt this much since well. He wasn't quite sure he remembered. The last few days were filled with pain, pain of various sorts. As Nanu gently bumped into his stitch, he glanced down to look at the offending hand despite himself before looking at Nanu.
"It's... You can restitch it, I know it's not looking good," he finally admitted wearily. His words were heavy with the lull of sleep. It was like his exhaustion was catching up on him at a rapid pace. Far more quicker than he would have liked if he could have helped it. "And yes, there's some on the back. It went right through me." When he was more coherent, he could kick himself over giving away too much information later. As the sound of her voice became familiar, he found weariness taking over. Whatever came next, he could worry about it after he woke up.
If he woke up.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2018 2:43:40 GMT -5
It was clear that Tahia was partially surprised that the stranger was dozing off - but it was probably better that way. He kept an eye on her and watched as she removed the bad sutures and put them in a plastic bag, continued to watch as she was careful in straightening the wound. The red of blood was not a surprise as she was reopening the wound, and he found himself dozing off as she was not speaking to him.
He doubted long had passed when he heard the sound of water, and he lifted his head sleepily. The gauze she had firmly taped to Al was clean as could be, though some extra gauze had obviously been used to clean up the wounds. He lifted his head and smiled at her as she turned to look.
"Stitched up the back," she said quietly, having returned to Arabic. It was a relief. "One exit wound was through the front - Dad, I think he was shot from behind. This was a hit gone wrong. So, naturally," she shrugged, "I looked up some two-week old news articles. There wasn't much in the way of newspaper writings, but I found some news clips."
"Go on.."
"The only thing that would match this would be Alphonse Fournier."
Gale raised an eyebrow before he stood up - the pain in his leg was less, now. Still - he partially-limped to the kitchen and looked at what Tahia was doing. Not washing blood off her hands, but rather, washing off a dinner plate. She must've finished patching the poor man up a while ago - it made him question how he managed to fall asleep. He must've been tired.
"That means nothing to me, Nanu. Explain, mistress of technology," he smiled as she gently pushed his shoulder. He moved away to find something for himself to eat, and eventually settled on an entire bar of chocolate. The best way to get nutrition, obviously. "Who is he?"
"A lawyer. Like, a mad good one," she reached over and broke off a piece of chocolate for herself, leaning against the counter. "One of the richest men in Paris, too. Maybe he protected the wrong person, huh?" her smile reminded him that even as grown as she appeared, she was still just a child. Her skill was less skill and more raw talent, her experiences had hardened her already; but she was young, and new to this world. Gale swallowed and gently shooed her away.
"Weird," he said quietly, though it was not weird at all. "Go to bed, habibti. Did you do your homework?"
"Yes."
"Go to bed."
She leaned down so that he could kiss her forehead and she hugged him gently; it was a recent thing, to be able to stay this close to his daughter. Gale smiled and waved her off, heard the soft click of the door and then his sharp gaze turned to Al - Alphonse. It was dangerous to do so, but once he'd finished his chocolate, Gale returned to the couch and let himself doze. It was an on/off sort of doze, a quiet one in the sense that he would wake up at the lightest of movements. At one point, he heard Tahia emerge for water before she returned to her pig sty of a room, but he didn't open his eyes.
Morning was signalled by the low beeping of Tahia's alarm clock, and he opened one eye lazily. He heard the shower water and smiled faintly, glad that she was being responsible. He stretched his legs out and found that they were less painful once again, and that he could walk - mostly - normally. With this in mind, he headed to the kitchenette to make breakfast.
"I promised Sakhra and Karima that I was going to walk with them, so I have to meet them at the bus stop," she said, coming through fully-dressed and already putting her (lazily dried) hair up in a ponytail, though she seemed to be struggling. "Lunch in fridge?"
"Lunch in fridge," he agreed patiently. Tahia grinned at him and grabbed her lunch and her bag, pausing only briefly to glance at Al with a thoughtful look.
"Make sure he doesn't die."
"No promises."
"Don't kill him."
"...No promises."
She rolled her eyes and said a lazy goodbye in Alphonse's direction before she slammed the door and left. He glanced at the homework she'd left on the desk and smiled, waiting patiently. As expected, Tahia returned moments later, scooping up the papers before jogging off again, with another goodbye. He waited until he was sure she was gone before he plated up breakfast - one for him and one for Al - and he headed over to the living area patiently, setting the plate on the table for Al before he sat down with his own. He was not a big eater and poked at his food, but still ate some. If only to prove it wasn't poisoned.
"Alphonse Fournier is a good name," he said idly, unsmiling. "Leaving behind nothing but a pool of blood, the entirety of France believing that you're dead," he set his food aside and rested his elbows on his thighs, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. Though his eyes were often soft, they were hardened - like ice. "There's no reason a lawyer would have to continue to be 'dead'. The government would've arranged protection for your kind."
I know what you are, went unsaid.
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Apr 1, 2018 3:17:13 GMT -5
He hadn't expected to fall asleep. Certainly not while being tended to and much less here of all places. He wasn't even sure where here was as he startled awake. The nightmare was expected. The jolt - the pull at his bandages - the pain that was grounding and reminding him that he was very much here and alive. It was almost disappointing to some extent as he relaxed somewhat, breathing raggedly for a moment before finally getting his breathing under control. Lifting a hand to run through his hair, he realized it was damp with sweat.
How long had he been out? He'd hardly been able to sleep the past few days. Maybe a few hours at best. Resting his head against the wall once again, he found comfort in the cold surface. It was a different cold from the bite of the wind at the harbor. A different cold from the feeling of the gun in his hand. A different kind of cold than the sting from Krista's slap. It was different enough not to connect with any of those things, different enough to tell him he was elsewhere and not in Paris anymore.
Closing his eye as he exhaled shakily, he covered his eyes with his hand, pressing the palm of his hand into his eyes to help with the headache already protesting the fact that he was awake. He knew fully well if he thought about it, it would only make this worse for him. But it was a gaping wound and even if he tried to ignore it, it pulsated and ached. A constant reminder that it existed deep in his heart.
He felt nauseous, but coming to the realization that he had no idea where any of the rooms were in Gale and Nanu's - his mind supplied helpfully - apartment, he stayed put. In the dim light the moon gave off, he inspected the patch up job Nanu had given him. It was, surprisingly enough, very well done. Leopald would have been proud of the quality of the handiwork, Alphonse mused. Gently sighing, he lowered his hand away from the aching raw injury and decided to try to remember what had happened the previous night.
He had passed out, he knew that much. It had been stupid, but honestly. He was still alive. He wasn't sure if he was happy with that, but he would take it. As a cool breeze filtered through the room, he finally remembered to properly button up his shirt and zip up his hoodie. Where he sat, he could see Gale laying across from him, asleep on the sofa. Interesting. It didn't seem like the other man was completely asleep, not from the way he was breathing as he slept.
A light sleeper then. But if he said nothing, neither would Alphonse. It seemed like after awhile, the other man actually did return to his doze and Alphonse realized that in that brief moment when the man had been alert it had strangely felt like he was not alone.
That was dangerous and he knew it.
Looking around the minimalist apartment, his gaze once again settled onto Gale's sleeping form before the darkness of the night seemed to fade from his grasp and the first rays of light from the day shone through the blinds. Blinking once the beeping of an alarm went off, he realized he had ended up lost in himself. Sighing shakily, he remained where he was even as Gale got up fro the couch. He noted the smile on the other's man face and realized it was a domestic one shared between him and Nanu and glanced away.
As they went about their regular routines, he listened idly to their conversation. He wasn't surprised when Nanu mentioned for her father to not kill him. He had already anticipated as much from Gale, but the attachment Nanu had to him already? That was a surprise. She was too young. Too innocent. And both Gale and he knew that was dangerous.
When Nanu said goodbye to him, he finally glanced up to acknowledge her, saying a goodbye after her. Watching Gale after Nanu left, he raised an eyebrow when the young girl came back for her homework and left soon after. Well, now they were alone. He smiled lazily knowing that this was when Gale would more than likely show his true colors.
As Gale placed a plate of food next to him, he shifted slightly to actually look at what was given to him. Prodding it gently before eating some, he decided Gale wasn't a half bad cook. Hearing his name though. That was something he wasn't expecting. Not so soon. He wasn't sure when he had been made. Was it last night when he helped Gale? Or some time after he had passed out. Schooling his features and keeping his surprise from showing, he glanced up from the plate of food and raised an eyebrow.
"Generally, if your kind," two could play that game thank you very much, "knew of the whereabouts of 'my kind', the bounty is more than appealing enough. So, what do you want Gale?" Already, the first question was directed at the other man even as he ate the meal lazily. "Oh, and just for the record - thank you for the meal. It's quite good."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2018 3:40:17 GMT -5
It was lucky, he noted, that Tahia had school. He had to gauge how dangerous Al truly was, and that meant prodding. Usually, wild animals would lash out when poked - especially when injured. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, assessed the other man with a keen gaze.
No longer did Gale have the eyes of a kind man; he had the sharp eyes of someone used to being an observer, someone who knew what to look for. This man was not an open book and that much was true - but the more he looked, the more things seemed to line up. He clicked his tongue idly and glanced to the door if only because he knew that his daughter was prone to ditching, waited a few moments before he looked back at Alphonse. He did not lash out, and that was something of a surprise. His mouth remained in a line, no trace of emotion on his face.
Much like Tahia (or perhaps Tahia was much like him in this sense), his aggressiveness was the passive kind. While not smiling - that was reserved for less dangerous situations - he was not openly unkind. There was a sort of careful way about his features that he arranged to ensure that he was as blank as this man was.
"I see," there was something of a vague smile, though it was tight. He had known, before, that Alphonse was likely part of a mafia - but the nonchalance he went about was interesting, the way he kept himself even while injured. Not going back to France. For a moment, Gale considered his words before he leaned back and rolled his shoulders into a surprisingly elegant shrug. "I don't want anything, Alphonse. I'm not going to undo my daughter's work."
He didn't want to annoy her. It was frustrating that she'd grown attached - but to a degree, he understood. She was more empathetic than people often took her for, much kinder. She was far better than he was, and he didn't want to undo her hard work. That said - if Alphonse proved to be a threat, he knew that he would not hesitate to kill. He did not need a gun to harm this man.
"See, here's the thing," he was rather relaxed in his movements as he switched channels on the television idly, bored of whatever was on. "I have no loyalty to whatever you're running from, whatever did this," he flicked his fingers at Al's torso, but didn't move from where he sat. "T--Nanu picked up on it when she was patching you up. You were shot from behind."
There was definitely a smile upon Gale Amari's features, now. It was lazy and near-bored, much like the cat who had got the canary. But he doubted that any sort of intimidation would work on this man, and so he didn't bother. Instead, it was like relaying information. Showing that he had put some pieces together, that he wanted something but not in the sense that he supposed he was expecting.
"I suppose, if anything, I want information," he shrugged again. "Curiosity killed the cat. What sort of danger have I brought to this house? There is no way that you are entirely off the radar."
He'd tried to play into someone's attempt to assassinate him years ago, but even now he waited for that fateful knock at his door. He knew that, even sitting here, he could have to get up to answer it - and then what? At least Tahia was not here, but she would come home to destruction and that was not what he wanted for her. They needed to move soon, but his curiosity was stronger than his sense of self-preservation, he supposed. He watched Alphonse carefully, seemed to take in every little movement. Gale's lips quirked up at the gratitude for the meal.
"I'm a good host," he said, seemingly waving off the compliment. "But I'm sure you understand that there are things that come above being a good host," whatever smile he had had vanished, giving way to the careful blankness again. For some reason, it was a natural look for him. It fit well with how his features lined up. "You know what I have to do, should you bring harm to her."
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Apr 1, 2018 4:03:43 GMT -5
It seemed the man was more or less practiced in interrogations. That was the first thing he could see when it came to way Gale schooled his features into a careful blankness that was not telling and he smiled in response. It was not a gentle smile, but not a fierce one. Rather, it was a knowing one as he finished his meal - it wasn't finished, he didn't have the appetite for that - and placed it down back where Gale had left it for him in the first place.
And to imagine that Gale didn't want to kill him because of Nanu? That amused him enough to chuckle. He moved slowly as he pulled the cigarettes he had bought yesterday from his jacket pocket. Taking one for himself, he placed it between his lips before leaning out far enough to offer Gale one as well. "It's not my preferred brand," he said, speaking about the cigarettes as he put the package away once again. Lighting it, he took a slow drag as his eyes carefully looked at Gale. It was the first time he had decided to analyze the man for what he was rather than who he was.
He was small, but there was a sturdiness to how he held himself. Alphonse was certain if he paid attention to his hands, he would see the kind of callouses that would tell him all he needed to know about the man. Whether he liked guns, knives, or a variety of other weapons. He wondered if Gale had figured out that was the exact reason why Alphonse wore gloves in addition to covering his scars. As Gale moved to switch the television channel, Alphonse decided those looked like callouses from handling guns.
A hitman, then. He was a freelancer - that was the only explanation for the apartment and of the kinds of jobs a freelancer took that required a gun, he could name a few. But Gale was a confident man and he seemed more than confident enough in his ability to be able to kill Alphonse if necessary. "You're a good father," he said after a pause. He continued moving slowly, even as he pulled out his handgun from it's holster and checked the chamber to make sure it wasn't loaded and the safety was on. Tossing it lightly on the ground, he kicked it over to Gale smiling slightly. "But might I advise you a lesson in caution."
"You're a good host and I have the potential to be a good guest, but," he held his tongue here as he took a slow drag from his cigarette. The rush of nicotine was familiar and calming as it had been the past few days. Exhaling softly, he lifted his gaze to look Gale in the eye. "I actually had no intention of staying. Unless there's a service to be bought."
"You," he said, pointing at Gale briefly before lowering his hand once again, "Are of no interest to me. I need able men and you and I are alike, are we not? You're running from something too."
A part of him wondered if Gale noticed he had completely avoided answering one of the man's questions. He knew the man was observant, but how observant was a matter of curiosity to Alphonse. He knew he spoke a big game about leaving. He knew fully well that he could, nothing could stop him other than another bullet, but staying was the better option for him. It allowed him a sanctuary to heal briefly before moving on. But Gale was loyal to Nanu and as much as he respected that and understood where it came from it also meant that the second Edgard's men got their hands on Nanu, Gale's loyalty would shift.
Once a friend and then an enemy. And as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't want harm to befall the young girl either. She was just too young to be involved in the life he had. Whatever her father did was small game. This... This was something else entirely.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2018 4:27:42 GMT -5
When the cigarettes were pulled out, he found himself realising that he had never managed to get his cigarettes, on accounts of being robbed, and all. After brief hesitation, he took one and pulled a lighter from his own pocket, lighting it idly before he pushed the ashtray on the table so that it was in range of Alphonse as well as himself.
"Not many brands sold around here," he said.
He narrowed his eyes and realised, with some guilt, that he hadn't checked for weapons. His gaze flicked down to the gun and he hesitated briefly before picking it up and turning it over in his hands. Truth be told, he doubted that this was the only weapon Alphonse had on him - but another truth be told; Gale did not want to go close to the man. He swallowed thickly and, after checking that it truly was safe, he pocketed it in a mine now gesture. He obviously held no intentions to return the gun; it was nice to look at and, while he never liked to use handguns, it would be useful. Also - he liked guns.
You're a good father. Clearly, it wasn't true if he hadn't thought to disarm the man. He frowned a little - the only break in his facade - and flicked his gaze away. Tahia had only been living with him for near three years now, had only recently gotten into the habit of falling him father - and he'd already managed to fail her. Impressive, he had to admit.
"I'm of interest to you, otherwise you would have left by now," he stated this with a firmness that was almost blunt. Gale was no fool; he knew his own worth. "I'm a sniper," it was said without much fanfare, a matter-of-fact statement. "Or marksman. Take your pick, I'm not fussy. If I were not able, I would have been bested, no?"
He did not directly answer the question, but instead focused on what had been missed.
"Your back," he repeated. "It has an entry wound, Alphonse. You and I are not alike in the sense that I," he smiled, in a sharp way, "was not shot by my pursuer, I am not in dire need of assistance. If I leave Egypt, all of my worries are gone - because my demon does not chase me outside of this country."
Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. He had no satisfaction; this man opened his mouth and gave only more curiosity, proved himself to be more and more interesting - and yet he provided little answers. Gale exhaled slowly and tried not to appear bothered; it was easy enough to do, but he was still frustrated, to a degree. He supposed that his patience was being worn thin by sleepless nights and the lingering paranoia. He wanted to get out of this country, and he doubted that this man was going to stay for long, either. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"I'll tell you something." he said, flicking his gaze down to assess the other man. "All you need to do is tell me the danger, and I would appear to be in your debt," a dismissive smile as he took a drag from his cigarette, a relief in itself. He exhaled slowly and tilted his head back. "If I am a bought man, I stay bought. The circumstances don't matter; my loyalty is taken by the first one to offer me anything, and it is not taken away unless the first one betrays me first." he tapped the side of his thigh in what appeared to be a nervous tic, though he was not nervous in the slightest. "You seem like you're in need of loyalty, my friend."
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Apr 1, 2018 4:52:19 GMT -5
He wasn't surprised that his gun would be taken, but it was clear to him that Gale had no intentions of giving it back either. Ah well, at least it was one of the ones he didn't quite mind losing. The python colt his children had gifted to him was still at home and the revolver that had been given to him the Directorate was still safely secured in its holster. It seemed that the man understood exactly the mistake he had made, but it also seemed that the man didn't want to test him. That was a sound decision know that he was conscious enough to be trouble. After all, a cornered injured animal was among the most dangerous.
It seemed like Gale would fill the blanks for him as well. He was a sniper or a marksman. So he was a ranged hitman. That wasn't going to be the safest bet but it was a skill set that he could utilize in the future. Contemplating it briefly, he tipped his head to a side, gently tapping his cigarette against the side of the ashtray Gale had extended to him before taking another long drag. Humming softly to himself, he blinked lazily, watching Gale through the hazy cigarette smoke. "You're confident in your abilities, but it's not like you come with recommendations."
And he had received some of the most skilled snipers in his pocket with high recommendations. Riagan was one he could think from the top of his mind. The man's relations with him was enough for him to have something of a lasting impression. The man didn't ever take a job he couldn't finish either. But sniping was a skill based profession and if he didn't secure Gale, then somebody else would eventually and perhaps he would come to regret the decision.
Having his question turned against him for the first time since the conversation began, he smiled. So the other man had not only noticed, but he did know a thing or two. So he was going to push where it hurt and demand answers to satisfy himself after all. Moving slightly to become comfortable in his seat, he decided to pay attention to the two things that he did learn from what Gale told him. He acknowledged he was being pursued and that it was in Egypt only. Interesting seeing as he had yet to leave Egypt.
"And yet I'm still alive," he said softly, offering Gale another smile. "There's no saying your pursuers won't leave you dead by the time I'm done here. You come with enemies. What makes that a clear choice for me?"
Employers always had enemies. It was the reason why they employed a sniper or hitman in the first place. But Gale needing shelter and money from his own demons? That was a problem that Alphonse wasn't quite certain he wanted to handle, especially given he had only just met the man. The only thing he had to work with was the man's first name, a handful of characteristics, and his occupation.
He was loyal to his daughter and if he was true to his word, loyalty like that was hard to come by. He supposed he could bite. Leaning back to rest hi head against the wall, he found himself looking at the ceiling instead of making eye contact with Gale. "I am more experienced with disappearing than you are, mon ami. But name your price. I'll consider."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2018 5:13:10 GMT -5
"I do not come with recommendations, no," he didn't seem to mind that fact. "I'm not going to give you contacts, either. There are people I could think of from the top of his head," he remembered everyone he had served under, however briefly, but that was a detail he'd keep to himself. "But their privacy is theirs, and I like confidentiality. You either accept me, or you don't."
There was nothing he was going to do to convince Alphonse of his skill. Gale was aware of his skill level and knew that his age was not quite young enough to be off-putting anymore, but not quite old enough to secure high skill. It was hit-or-miss in his age-range, and he found that he was often one of those who hit. Frequently. He had not missed a mark for a long, long time. His last job had gone well, and so had jobs before that. In the off-chance that his employers had wanted to get rid of him, he'd gotten rid of them. Mistakes were made, of course, as he was still young; but he'd been less likely to make them since an incident years ago.
"Barely," he said. He did not point out that had Tahia not reopened and restitched the wound, that he could've bled out slowly over the course of a few more weeks - neither did he point out that they had done far more than him. While there was a debt owed, he didn't care that much about it. It was not his debt to ring in, but it was Tahia's, and Gale knew that. "I come with enemies that I know how to deal with," he made a vague gesture. "I am not dead yet, and I have no plans on dying for many years to come. If I were not confident in my abilities to protect myself, I would not have brought my child into this."
He did not mention that his pursuer would not dare harm Tahia, nor of the closeness they were.
When it came to naming the price, Gale hesitated briefly, unsure of if he wanted to continue with this. The drumming on the side of his leg had become more frequent, now - more pronounced. His teeth worried at his lower lip as he considered it - and, eventually, it seemed that he'd settled the war waging within himself.
"Not money," he murmured, in a softer tone than he had been using. It was the resigned sort. "I do not trust you and this is true; but I do not think you are the sort to brush off a debt," he glanced to Al from the corner of his eye, and a small smile graced his features. Softer than the others, it was a smile that aged him more than one would expect. "On the off-chance that I do end up dead in a ditch, I need security in Tahia's safety. I do not want her falling into the wrong hands; you have only seen part of what she can do."
It didn't seem that he was aware of his own slip-up, like he had fallen into his own thoughts and did not particularly want to discuss this. Either way; it was his condition, and that much was clear.
"My loyalty is bought on the condition that she has somewhere to go whenever I die. Outside of Africa and the Middle East; anywhere but near here."
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Apr 1, 2018 22:15:30 GMT -5
Well, Gale was straight forward in the way Nanu was. He had more tact than his daughter did, but nobody could say that their personalities weren't eerily similar as well. At least Gale was a man of discretion and valued the privacy of his employers. That was something that was becoming rarer in the criminal profession when it came to trustworthy associates. They spoke too quickly. They sold people out to save their own skins and ended up paying the price for their own lack of loyalty. They would have died either way, but those who spoke left with no honor.
He decided to, instead of trying to match the man response for response, hear out what Gale had to tell him first. It was clear the man was going to not stop pointing out that Alphonse had been more or less dying when Nanu had patched him up. That was fair. He did owe it to her, but not to Gale. And even then, he didn't kill them and that was all the honor among thieves Gale could expect from him. He was tired of being indebted to people, especially to those who meant little more to him than a glorified encounter.
He wasn't going to align himself with them for simply keeping him alive. He wasn't even quite sure if that was something he was grateful for or disappointed of. Even as the man said he was more than capable of handling himself, Alphonse could only offer a small amused smile. If he was, he wouldn't be in hiding, but until that was proven otherwise, he would let Gale be. A little self-confidence, whether fake or not, wasn't a bad trait. It was better than someone who was unsure of their own worth and abilities.
When Gale hesitated to name a price, he eyed the man cautiously. Did he think Alphonse had no money? Or did he want to skew the prices to benefit him and the situation?
It turned out it was neither. The man, above all things, was admirable to an extent. He cared about his family the way Alphonse cared about his. But Gale had it in him to not be a coward and abandon his daughter. For the first time since their conversation, both of them revealed a genuine emotion. Whereas Gale's was gentle, Alphonse's was bitter. He wished the request hadn't felt like a piercing attack.
"I can do that," he said after a thoughtful pause. "But I don't generally employ individuals with promises alone. In that case, it's your word against mine and if one of us changes our minds... well, we'll both be disappointed won't we?"
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2018 22:59:56 GMT -5
There was something about Alphonse that felt almost familiar - but he couldn't quite place it. He exhaled softly and flicked his gaze to the clock. He had to go out soon - he'd have to wrap this up so he could get ready.
"Then you can choose a price, because I can promise you that I've probably worked for less," it was odd to admit out loud - but it was how it went. Often so desperate for work that his prices dipped low, he'd worked for a few hundred Egyptian pounds before. "I hate to cut this conversation short, but I have to go out for an hour or two."
He rose to his feet and continued to smile - but this time, it was the patient, closed-off one that often appeared on his face. As quickly as he had shown some vulnerability, it had vanished - without a trace of it to be seen. There was something neutral about his smile despite the way it smoothed his features. It was the sort that prevented aggression from others, a peacemaker's smile, maybe. Gale picked up the television remote and set it near Alphonse before he picked up both dishes and headed to the kitchenette, setting them next to the sink.
"There's a house phone, there," he pointed out the little phone set on the wall, "on the calendar next to it are three numbers. My phone is the second. Call it if you need anything."
Gale vanished again into the bathroom to clean up and change his clothes. Once done, he paused in the little hallway and rummaged in the drawers until he found some money and he put it into his wallet, before picking up a spare key and returning to the living area, hanging the key on the same hook the calendar sat on. At least have the decency to lock the door after you if you leave, went unsaid. He didn't know what to expect from the man; he was unpredictable and strange, and interesting. Very interesting. He wanted to learn more but he knew a man who had seen some sh*t, as like seemed to call to like. He was curious, but he wasn't going to poke at the cornered animal. He flashed a grin and gave a lazy two-fingered salute before he left the apartment.
Though he was a little shorter on money than he would've liked due to the mugging, he had to get some ingredients for food, and so his first stop was the local grocery store. Once he was finished there, he wasn't much shorter on money and had to consider his next actions. He'd bought some pastries for Tahia because she liked them, had bought some extra gauze and bandages and more supplies to refill their first-aid kit, and overall, he thought he was doing well. Checking the time was good, too - he wasn't short on that so far.
The main part of Luxor was a bustling city full of life and sounds, the sort that, in another life, he would've liked to stay around more. He remembered his first visit here, remembered being in awe of everything. Now, everything felt like it gave him anxiety. A woman's gaze would linger on him too long and he'd feel a prickling sensation, feel more uncomfortable than he had any right to be. A man would bump against him and he'd jump away a little too much, and he was constantly reminded that he hated this. Hated the packed crowds, hated the city. But it was worth it as he came to the open-air market; his real target. While he'd gotten Tahia's processed sh*t here for when he didn't want to cook, he could get fresh ingredients here.
"Amari!" greeted one old man cheerfully, "I have things for you! No, no wallet," he waved him off. The man's Egyptian Arabic was spotty; he was from Syria, Gale knew.
"Basil," he smiled, "how are you?"
As the man bagged up the fruits and vegetables that would never sell no matter how hard he tried, the two conversed in a rather pleasant manner. By the end of their conversation, Basil's Egyptian seemed smoother and he seemed quite grateful, and Gale was grateful for what he'd been given. The two parted with a hug (Basil demanded it and at this point, Gale didn't mind so much), and after nearly having been drawn into conversation again, Gale managed to get on his way with a little wave.
Next were the things he'd have to pay for, despite being relatively close to the vendors. It was a relief. Plenty of rice (for cheap), some pasta and dried fava beans, some catfish that was fresh but not as fresh as the rest, my friend, and some Nile Perch. Overall; he wasn't doing so badly, as it seemed that he could barter with the men and women of the market due the familiarity. It was strange to think of.
"Gale," it was an old woman this time, though she had never given her name. She knew his from Basil, he knew that much. "You should come and smoke with us."
"I'll have to pass," he smiled at her politely, even as he took a moment to offer her one of the two catfish he'd picked up. She took it gratefully and handed him some money. "Perhaps next time. I'm running short of time."
"Okay, okay," she waved him off with a toothy grin. "I see how it is."
He laughed and gave her a little wave before he left the market, feeling significantly better. He had enough food to last them the rest of the week (maybe plus some), and he had some junk food for Tahia. He stopped briefly at a blank building to pick up his cigarettes (followed by idle conversation), before he headed off and towards home. All through his journey, he'd had an odd sense of dread building in his gut; like something was going to go wrong, or like he was being followed. When the feeling persisted in the quieter area of where he lived, he realised that he probably was not imagining it.
"It's been a while," said a voice, which did not process before the pain in his lower back did. Despite it, he didn't yelp - even as the blade was pulled out. Didn't hit anything vital. He staggered briefly and winced. As he dropped to his knee (ow), he turned his head to look at his assailant. For a moment, he could've mistaken her for Tahia; they did look unnervingly alike, minus the eyes. "How have you been doing, Nuri?"
"Oh, you know," he gasped, reaching his free hand around to his back. He could reach it and put pressure from here - but the woman kicked his hand away. "I was doing fine until you stabbed me."
Sabah spread her hands and smiled. "This is a brief visit, I will admit," she said - and as she did so, she was already walking away. B*tch. "You took so long in the market that you nearly didn't have this happen. You should've stayed for the shisha. Might've saved your life, funnily enough."
He watched as she left, seemingly content that he was going to bleed out here. With some effort, he reached back to press on the wound again and, after a moment, he stood up. Yep, that's right, he thought, hold onto the shopping. Spent good money on that.
Was amusement enough to get him back to the apartment? Surprisingly, yes. Or maybe it was spite; the desperation at not being killed by Sabah, the hope that maybe he'd be okay if he just...fixed himself up. The gate went unlocked behind him - someone else would lock it, it was the middle of the day - and he headed up to his apartment with great effort. His hand, he noted, was not enough to stop the bleeding; there were dots of it following behind him as he climbed the steps, and he smiled vaguely. His head felt light. Huh. Cool. Might die.
He managed to unlock the door and, for a moment as he entered, it was almost as if nothing was wrong. He dropped the shopping to one side, locked the door, and cast a tired glance at the living room.
"If you feel well enough to get up, can you do me a favour and put the fish in the fridge? Thank you."
Gale managed to take his shoes off and took a step forward before he dropped to his knee with a hiss of pain, hand moving from the wound. He exhaled slowly before he let himself rest against the wall. The shirt he'd been wearing had probably had intentions to be white, but the dark red stain continued to grow now that his hand no longer stopped the bleeding. Hey - at least it was a tiled floor, not carpet. Cleaning up would be easy.
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Apr 2, 2018 1:07:02 GMT -5
For a man who knew exactly what he was capable of and what he was supposedly worth, Gale also had no set value for his own abilities. It was an interesting situation. He wasn't even surprised when Gale cut the conversation short. Given the initial glance at the clock, it wasn't that strange that he had to leave soon. "Alright then, I guess I'll figure out the terms," he responded rather lazily, flicking his eyes down to the remote control that Gale placed next to him. Well, it seemed like the man was enabling his own bad habits, but he wasn't going to comment on it.
Gale was in and out twice before he stated his final words, pointing out where the phone was and the numbers he needed would be. There were three numbers. If one was Gale's, he supposed it would only make sense if one was also Nanu's. He wondered who the last one was idly as Gale placed a key near the calendar and left. He realized this was it. He could leave. Or he could employ Gale, like he said he would.
Pulling out the burner he had secured from Buhaan. The man had not been willing to give him a surname and he doubted Buhaan was his actual name, but it had gotten him what he had needed. Poking about, he had been able to get the Kuwaiti agent's contact information. For some reason, unearthing information on Fahad Jabir was easier than finding Nahla Bhatti's whereabouts and it gave him a pang of pride. He remembered the woman well from his time working for the Directorate.
She was full of fire and nothing could faze her. But she was a relic of a past he had left behind and he hadn't gotten into contact with her in ages since his service for the DGSE ended. With enough prodding, Jabir had gotten him exactly what he needed. Coordinates, a number, and enough information to know the operations that Nahla ran nowadays. Her resistance work had gotten bigger and she became less contained but also smarter. He was impressed, in all honesty.
Settling against the chair he had become more or less acquaintanced with in his stay in Gale and Nanu's residence, he dialed the number Jabir had given him. He wasn't sure what he was expecting. He had pulled a lot of favors on Jabir based on what the man owed him, but he hadn't expected the efficiency and ability the other man possessed when Nahla herself answered the call. She sounded older, more tired, but there was still the same bite in her voice that was rough and vicious. It was a promise she wouldn't take anybody's sh*t. Ever. And it was undeniably her, from the way she spoke gruffly to the tone and afflictions she used. "How did you get this number?"
"Through a friend," he answered, his hand moving over to the remote control to lower the volume. There was a long pause on the other side like she was trying to make sense of who was speaking to her. It had been nearly two decades. He wouldn't blame her for forgetting him and yet somehow, despite his former profession, the idea of being forgotten by someone who had once been a good friend stung.
"Alphonse?" She said the words like she didn't quite belief what she was saying. His lips twitched up in a slight smile. "You- How aren't you.... The news."
Ah, so that was how they had figured out who he was. Given that Gale and Nanu weren't in a rush to kick him out nor turn him in, that made sense. He leaned his head against the wall, eyes closing briefly as he responded. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?"
"No sh*t. It's been like? Fourteen years? Fifteen? Hell, sixteen? You just vanished and became a crime boss one day, like what's up with that?" God she had a lot of questions. He had forgotten her tendency to ask questions expecting answers because it was just what she did. And he always gave them to her because she hated playing games. She was a very direct individual and he respected that about her. "Oh, and just for the record, your Arabic still sucks." He chuckled at that. It would seem he would have no end to the insults towards his Arabic.
"I'd like to hear you keep up with me in French," he answered lazily before his eyes opened and flicked up to the screen. The headlines of 'more bodies found in ditches in Paris' scrolled across the screen, causing him to frown. The pictures they showed were very vague but from what he saw, it was a different hand. The work Edgard had done didn't look the same and he couldn't help but feel concern.
If he had the means to, he would have tried to reach out to them but there was no saying that his family wasn't being bugged now. It would be a foolish move to not try to listen into his household if Edgard had gone as far as to send a hit on him. Realizing he had fallen silent once again, he cussed softly under his breath. It had been getting worse. He would find his mind trailing off and then. He wasn't even quite sure how long had passed but the gentleness in Nahla's voice was just different than her usual demeanor and it was undeserved and wasted on him and he knew it.
"Alphonse? Al? Are you okay? Are you still there?" It sounded like she had been repeating those words for awhile and his grip tightened around the remote control. It was when he felt it shift slightly that he realized he risked breaking Gale's property. Placing it back down, he leaned into his hand sighing heavily.
"I-I'm sorry. I think it's best we talk in person," he wasn't sure he could keep up with Nahla and he hardly wanted to waste her time. "My contact gave me your whereabouts I'll... I'll meet you tomorrow, okay?"
"Alphonse, it's o-"
Out of sheer stupidity - had it been panic?? - he ended the call before Nahla had the chance to finish her sentence. Letting the burner slip from his grasp into his lap, he found himself slumping down in the chair despite the slight protest his injuries gave at the movement. Covering his face with his hands he took in a ragged breath.
It had been awhile since things had gotten this bad. He was afraid of what was going to happen to him and the unconstrained fear was something he hadn't dealt with in so long it had became foreign. Fear had become familiar, it had been an old friend. But now he feared he couldn't protect anybody. Not if he couldn't even get a grip on himself.
Whatever pit of self pity he had fallen into was abruptly interrupted when the lock sounded. It was louder than he remember - the sound of a door being unlocked. Taking a deep breath and trying to make himself less... well, whatever this was - he turned to see if it was indeed Gale who had returned. It was except everything was wrong and this was not how it was supposed to be. At first, it seemed normal enough. Expected, even.
He had dropped groceries to the ground - so that was what he had had to do - and then he had locked the door and taken off his shoes. And then he had fallen to his knees and the sheer amount of blood on his shirt was - well, it was alarming. Raising an eyebrow and ignoring what Gale had stated before then, he found himself pushing himself to his feet despite the protest his injuries gave him and lowering himself carefully next to Gale to try to get a clearer look of the injury. It was... well, it was bad to say the very least.
Without responding, he made his way to the medic kit based on his vague memories of where Nanu had gotten it from. It was still there and he was relieved. Settling next to Gale once again, he found himself raising an eyebrow as he settled to work. He would try to patch the man up whether Gale wanted it or not because Nanu was not going to come home to her father dying and there was no way Gale was going to be able to patch himself up when the wound was out of his reach. "I thought," he said, voice unimpressed despite the slight concern he had for the man, "you said you you knew how to deal with your enemies?"
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2018 1:59:05 GMT -5
Whenever he got hurt, before, had not been much of a concern. He would patch himself up and get on with life, or go to the hospital and deal with it there. With Tahia in his life, he oftentimes found himself patched up by her, and he didn't particularly want to go to the hospital when there was a dangerous man in their home. He trusted that his daughter could handle herself and he doubted to a degree that Alphonse would harm her - but it would be carelessness to just trust in that.
He'd expected to be left alone. If he got his breath back a little, maybe he'd be able to staunch the bleeding for a while. Don't be an idiot, a voice in the back of his head told him. You'd bleed out before she got home.
Gale shifted his weight uncomfortably, and tensed immediately when he felt hands on him. His skin was already crawling from the encounter - and he went to move away briefly before he thought about it. Best not die. He was not particularly good at self-preservation, but he did have something to live for. Though staying tense and thus causing the bleeding to be a little worst than it should've been, he allowed Alphonse to work though a frown remained on his face and he stared at the wall blankly. He didn't feel right.
"I do know how to deal with them. She doesn't want to kill me," he said quietly, wincing a little as he shifted his weight. "Not yet."
Because she played games, she made things hurt but she didn't dare kill - not yet. Everything she did was calculated and careful - this felt careless and odd, like something wasn't quite right. She's expecting me to leave soon, he mused, and is probably trying to get me to stay for longer. He was prone to sticking in a general area when he was injured. It was too painful to travel. He hated that she, of all people, could predict him; others were prone to overthinking his actions or underestimating him, but not Sabah. She knew how he acted and who he was, knew exactly what to do to get him to play along.
Even now, he wasn't free. He didn't miss his own mistaking of her for Tahia, of all people. In day-to-day life, he could easily push the reminder to the back of his mind because Tahia was so close to him; but there was no denying that Sabah was there, too. He hated it, hated Sabah, hated knowing that the comparison could be made. Hated knowing that Tahia knew that something was wrong when it came to the maternal department, but knew that she was not going to hear it from Gale.
His mind felt clouded as he let Alphonse patch up his wounds, and he blinked a few times once he felt the hands move away. And yet - his skin still felt wrong, didn't feel okay. Gale winced and pushed himself away from the wall for the first time since he'd knelt down there, and he took a few moments to turn around so that he could sit with his back to it. His gaze did not meet the other man's, instead focusing on a spot on the floor. He was paying attention to every little movement, tensed in a way that he was ready to move out of the way if an attack was incoming. Paranoid.
At some point, he'd managed to get to his feet and, though clearly conscious of his wound, he managed to calm himself a little by putting most of the groceries away. Once he felt too much pain, he headed to the couch and sat there quietly, crossing his legs and staring past the television - not quite at it.
Tahia didn't come home for a while - she had Muay Thai today, so it was expected. When she did, the sound of the door made him tense a little more and he shifted his gaze to the television without saying anything. She was used to his silence, sometimes. It was fine.
"Hallo," she greeted, kicking her shoes off lazily and taking out some papers from her back. He watched her from the corner of his eye. She looked down, frowned, and headed into the kitchen. "I said don't kill him. Why's there blood?"
"Not his."
"Who'd you fight this time?" even as she spoke, she dropped what she was doing in favour of picking up the medical kit and throwing it onto the couch. Tahia vanished briefly, presumably to get her suture kit too, and came back to the couch. She gestured for him to turn around and he did so. He hadn't changed his shirt, he realised, and heard the hiss of annoyance from her. He found himself tensing without wanting to as she set to work, undoing whatever Alphonse had done in favour of checking it herself. "Loosen up a bit. I can't stitch it if you're this tense."
Gale didn't respond, but after a few moments, he managed to loosen his muscles a little. Though she clearly wasn't happy with how he was, she continued on to stitching him regardless, working as quickly as ever. Once she was done, he felt clean gauze settle onto his back before she moved away.
"What happened, then?" she'd switched to French, now, gaze flicking to Al instead of Gale.
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Apr 2, 2018 2:56:11 GMT -5
He had no intentions of invading an individual's privacy had it been any other circumstance and the way Gale tensed to his touch was telling enough. He would keep his distance in future encounters, but as of now, this was the least he could do for all that they had done for him. His handiwork was far from perfect, but it was methodical and he knew instinctively it would hold long enough for Gale to get actual help in the form of Nanu's hands. He was certain she would perform far better than he was.
The only thing he knew for sure was that he wasn't even certain who was responding to the scenario. It was like his body had moved on its own accord and everything that he did was out of habit and necessity and not... well. He wasn't sure. When all was said and done, he had even put the fish in the fridge because Gale had insisted on it. Gale was patched up and after the way he had responded to the treatment, Alphonse had settled himself back into his chair - wincing as he did so.
It took awhile for things to click together and feel less detached. He wasn't even sure if he had done the actions willingly or had it just been instinct. Watching Gale idly from the corner of his eye, he felt a twinge of guilt for his words. It had been amused and smug then but when Gale had responded and tensed from contact, he knew it was no joking matter. Even the way Gale held himself now as he rested was telling that whoever his pursuer was instilled a primal fear in him.
Mulling over Gale's words, he wondered if the other man would die before him. Had he just taken under his wing a man who was dead to rights and accepted the responsibility of Nanu without realizing it?
He highly doubted it. Gale cared a lot for his daughter, but he was also a fool and in many senses Alphonse found that he could relate. Turning away from Gale, he decided to bide the man no attention unless he asked for it or needed it. He would respect the other man's privacy and not pry. Whatever had happened was going to be between Gale and Nanu. Alphonse had only done what he had felt like he had to do.
Feeling a vibration against his leg, he realized it was his pant pocket that he had slipped the burner into. Frowning, he pulled it out and realized he had missed quite a few calls and even now Nahla's number looked back at him. Swallowing thickly, he placed the burner onto a table and left it as is. They spent the rest of the evening in relative silence. He left Gale to his own devices and even when the man moved from where he had settled against, Alphonse did not watch him nor tried to interact again. He wasn't sure what the boundaries were in this scenario and what he could and could not do.
At some point, along the haze of numbness Nanu came home. Distantly, the buzzing of his burner rang in his ears even though the phone had received no calls for the last hour. When she spoke, he realized it was not for him at all since he didn't understand much outside of the greeting. It was still Arabic, but it didn't make much sense. It was as if he was consciously observing himself observing the duo. There was a certain amount of detachment from the scenario as they spoke. Nothing quite clicked to him until Nanu finally spoke in French and he blinked realizing she was finally addressing him.
Straightening up slightly, it was the first time the strain he had placed on his injuries while helping Gale reared its head. Hissing in pain he tried to make sense of the words she had said. After a beat, he realized she wanted to know what had happened to Gale. Shrugging slightly, he frowned as he stared at Gale briefly before returning his attention to Nanu. "He came back like that. I don't know the details."
After awhile, he decided to continue. At the very least, the conversation made him feel more grounded to what was happening. Gesturing loosely at Gale, he offered Nanu a half-hearted smile, "I apologize for the bad handiwork by the way. I only did what I could." He'd been told off more than enough times by Leopald that his patchwork was a mess and that it made it harder for Leo to deal with his injures, but that in many cases it had also kept him alive long enough for Leopald to help him. The man always seemed upset, impressed he made it out alive but annoyed all the same at the condition he got out alive in.
"He probably has the answers you want."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2018 7:48:51 GMT -5
Sometimes, she felt like she bore the weight of the world on her shoulders. She acknowledged that her father was trying to give her the best childhood she could have, but she was no fool. Tahia knew that the day he'd come home with a bullet to the leg, she would not be in for an easy time. She had watched and had ended up helping as he'd dug the bullet out, had questioned him to keep his mind active and thinking of other things. It had been that same night that she realised, with some surprise, that it had not scared her as much as she would've thought. If anything, she had become curious.
It had been years since then, and it was rare that Gale saw to his own wounds. If he could, he'd get her to see to them - and the amount of trust placed in her hands was astonishing. He told her if they were in danger, told her why they were moving - and in return, she understood. That's all he asked for.
Her interest in the work he did concerned him and she knew it, but she had plans other than being a thief. When Al had appeared, she realised that what the criminal underground really needed were better doctors, better surgeons. The stitching had been messy and bunched up, so rushed that she held little doubt that his internals had suffered an equally-rushed treatment. It had saved his life for the past couple of weeks, but it would have become infected sooner or later.
She had not expected to come home to an odd amount of blood, nor to her father sulking on the couch. But open closer inspection, it had not been sulking - but he was checked out of the world, his mind miles away.
Tahia was not the smartest, this was true. But she knew him well enough to know that something with his former gang boss had happened, knew that that damn woman had had something to do with it. Truth be told - she barely knew who the woman was, didn't have a name or a face. She'd heard her voice, once. It reminded her of something she'd heard a long, long time ago; but that made sense, because she knew she'd been raised by Gale for a few years while he was younger, which meant that it was normal for her to know the voice.
She worked as quickly and as efficiently as ever, mildly frustrated at whatever patch-up job had been done but it was fine, because though it made it a little harder to treat, it had saved her father's life. She was grateful for that, she really was. Tahia moved to the kitchen and began to wash her hands, listening actively for a response from Al.
"It's fine," her voice was steadier than most would expect from a teenager dealing with this, she knew. But she was used to it. "It was a mess and it made things harder to deal with, but it saved him from bleeding out. I'm used to weird patch-up jobs."
Once her hands were clean, she dried them off and frowned. So, he'd been grocery shopping, it looked like. Had probably gone to the market. She shrugged and pulled out some ingredients, turned the heat of the stove on, chopped them up - put them in the pot. It was methodical work, she had grown used to how the knives her father owned handled. Once satisfied, she left the kitchen and pulled over her beanbag, throwing it in a place where she could see both men plus the television. She threw herself into it lazily, put her legs up on the table and glanced at Gale.
He seemed to be coming back, and she watched as he tucked his legs underneath himself and then gave her legs a pointed looks. She spread her hands in a what can you do? gesture, before she tilted her head back and sighed.
"I know he has answers," she said. "I'm not going to get answers yet, that's why I asked you."
Perhaps she had yet to learn her father's patience, as there was mild irritation in her tone. It had been a long day, made longer by the events at home. She reached out with her leg in an attempt to poke Gale's (anything to bring his mind back, even his frustration), but fell short. She huffed lightly and glanced to Al in a near-cautious manner. It didn't feel right to use their usual routine in front of a stranger, but she wanted to be able to calm her dad's mind - even just a little. She drummed her fingers across her thigh lightly, and then shrugged. Whatever. It looked like Gale had come back into himself enough that he was going to ask for it, anyway.
"How was your day?" he asked quietly, as she'd expected. The unexpected part was the French, as if he was subconsciously trying to include their guest. A grin flicked across her features and she watched the news from the corner of her eye. Nothing new, she noted.
"Sakhra wanted to see some of what I did after school, so she came to Muay Thai with me. She expected me to be in with the babies," she shifted her weight so she could put her arms behind her head and smiled up at the ceiling. "She did not expect me to be taking on the teacher. He beat my ass again, because I rely too much on what I'm best at."
"Mm," he barely seemed to be paying attention, but she knew that he would retain the information. He always did.
"He told me that I need to stop bringing other things into it, because, and I quote, 'this is f**king Muay Thai, not do-what-you-want'."
"And you sat there and took the punishment."
"I told him that I've been doing everything else way before this so it's natural for me to rely on the sh*t I know rather than what I don't."
"Don't swear."
He was as back as he was going to be, though there was still a noticeable distance to his eyes. Gale watched the television with a thoughtful look, didn't seem to pay attention to Al. It occurred to her that the other man would've had to be at relatively close proximity to him to have stopped the bleeding (to a degree), which probably meant that body language alone had given something away. She exhaled slowly and rested her arm over her belly, watching the stove from where she sat so that it didn't burn anything.
"You should take his advice," Gale said, picking at his nails. "It would do you some good to separate your disciplines, Nanu."
Tahia made a frustrated sound at the back of her throat and shrugged. She did try - she just preferred to have a backup plan for when things didn't go her way in one thing. It frustrated her other teachers, too. Even years later, she was used to Ibrahim letting her do whatever when it came to sparring. He had been an asshole, that was for sure, but he'd been a good enough teacher.
"Oh, Al," she artfully moved the conversation so that their guest could be involved, sticking her tongue out childishly at Gale as she did so. "I'm making one-pot tomato and basil pasta, because he will kill me if I don't stick to things I know. You don't have any, uh, dietary requirements, do you?"
"I have a dietary requirement," said Gale.
"I know, Dad," she tilted her head with some amusement.
"Painkillers."
"I know, Dad."
"I got backstabbed, show more concern for me, kid," he frowned at her as she stood up, watched as she headed to the kitchen. It was tempting to flick his forehead as she went past but she restrained herself instead of doing that, knowing that it wouldn't make matters better. She scowled at him before refocusing her attention on Al.
"How are you feeling, by the way?" she asked, to try to distract herself from her problematic father. "I want to check your stitches soon, if you don't mind too much. I want to change the gauze and besides that, I want to make sure the sutures are holding."
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Apr 2, 2018 11:29:41 GMT -5
It was quite obvious to him that this scenario - this kind of situation - was something of a normalcy to Nanu if her response was this. She seemed to know exactly how to handle herself and she seemed to know exactly what was needed of her for her father. It was interesting to say the least. From the way he seemed to actually listen to her about not being tense to the eerie calm that she possessed. He could name many adults who lacked the same fortitude of mind and will in comparison to Nanu.
At least he hadn't made the situation worse. Offering Nanu a small smile, he decided not to keep the conversation going, instead turning his head slightly to allow his gaze to linger on Gale briefly. He could tell that there was something off with Gale. It was written in his body language and in the tension in his body. He had yet to truly calm down. Part of him wondered if Gale realized he was safe, but given that he had enough presence of mind to try to communicate, it was coming back to him.
They were an interesting duo to say the least. Nanu was young, that in and of itself was obvious. Yet Gale treated her with enough respect to warrant her an equal in every way, but even Gale knew at the end of the day Nanu was still just a child. There were things he would not tell her and those were things that she knew he would not tell her despite their closeness.
He shrugged helplessly in response at the irritation directed towards Gale. It wasn't like he could exactly tell her what was going on. Something told him the question was directed at him solely to allow Nanu to reflect upon her displeasure of the situation. It would have been comical if he had been somehow engaged in the situation at hand other than the blood that clung to him. He should have washed it off, he noted dully but instead it had dried and the scent of copper was heavy in the air.
It seemed that after those biting words directed at Gale, the tension in the air had shifted slightly as well. It was something very tender and personal between the two and yet they were involving him.
He noted as much due to the use of French. They had a language between the two of them that he had not understood at all and yet Gale had fallen back into French. Their conversation was normal all things considered. It was very domestic and it left him with another pang of homesickness as he rested his head against the wall and listened to them converse. So it would seem that, unlike her father, Nanu was pursing close quarters combat despite Gale's background.
That was interesting to say the least and as they spoke of her disciplines, he had half a mind to get involved himself. But it would be a few too many words. He was not in the business of disclosing information about himself and now that he had made himself Gale's employer rather than guest he had even less reasons to tell them anything. And yet he wanted to. Perhaps it was the loneliness. That would make more sense. Or it was the lack of concern for his own well being. Those were the only two factors he could pinpoint that would loosen his tongue.
Hearing his name mentioned, he lifted his gaze to look at Nanu. Upon hearing her question, he offered her a small genuine smile and shook his head. She was too kind for her own good. Despite everything, he hoped she would be able to maintain her kindness in the years to come. "I should be fine with anything," he said, chuckling softly at their conversation. He had already intruded more than he would have liked to.
He had turned the tables on Gale, but it changed nothing. He was still in their household. He was still hanging on by a thread. He was still at their mercy, but the only thing that had the power dynamic shifting was the promise and money on the table that Gale could not turn down. And by the condition of their living environments and Gale's confession of his own lack of income - it made sense. He didn't have many options. He was spread thin and perhaps their meeting was something akin to fate.
When their conversation came to an end, he had half expected Nanu to leave to make the tomato and basil pasta, but instead her attention was directed towards him. Raising an eyebrow in response at the loaded question, he found himself hesitating for a second to long before answering. The words 'I'm Fine' caught in the back of his throat and he decided to avoid anything too messy other than what the two of them knew. "I think I put too much strain on the injuries," he admitted sheepishly. The reason why went unspoken seeing as Gale and Nanu were already handling things their own way.
Perhaps the answer would be enough to keep them off his more personal matters. The bullet wounds were bad, but they... they weren't as bad.
Despite everything he found himself smiling to Nanu, hoping that he was not asking too much of her. "I don't mind at all. Thank you, by the way." Because, despite owing her father nothing, there was a debt he had to Nanu and perhaps the promise he had made wouldn't be too hard to fulfill if things did go poorly today. Still, as his gaze idly flicked to Gale, the man was getting careless when he had a daughter who cared about him. Like he had.
And that was dangerous mistake.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 3, 2018 10:51:29 GMT -5
There was a sort of quiet about the way that Alphonse handled himself that was pleasant. Gale had noticed it the previous night, but he was noticing it more, now. Though his mind was something of a mess, he found the distractions by Tahia something of a comfort; she always managed to know how to distract him, knew that treating him like normal would be better than treating him like a delicate flower. He exhaled slowly and leaned his head back. He was tired. There was a dull ache on his back from where she'd stitched him up, and he knew that it was unlikely he would sleep tonight.
"Good," Tahia grinned and stood up, heading to the kitchenette area. He watched her go with a narrowed gaze, didn't miss the newly-forming bruise on her elbow. Her teacher goes rougher than most, he mused to himself, before he turned his attention back onto Alphonse. He listened to the sounds in the kitchen as his daughter worked and assessed the situation quietly. He supposed he'd have to tell Tahia that he was going to be working for this man, though bringing it up in a conversation seemed difficult. Sometimes, he wasn't sure what to say to her - didn't know how to phrase things or didn't know how to go oh yeah, by the way, I made this life-changing decision because, uhhh, I'm the f**king adult here. He didn't like that aspect of fatherhood; knowing that his decisions were, in the long-run, usually better. That he had to make the monetary decisions, that he had to ensure that they could survive. It was impossible to consult with her on jobs and employers that he took on, and he hated that - but in the end, she was his child, and she had to accept the decisions he made.
The sound of the pot in the kitchen was something of a comfort, and so was Tahia's idle muttering.
"Why are none of the dishes clean?" came her annoyed voice, and he glanced over at her lazily, eyebrow raised. "I thought you cleaned them last night!"
"I put hot water in them and left them in the sink," he replied, offering up a smile. "Because it's your turn to wash them. There are some dishes on the highest shelf in the left cabinet - no, not that one," he made a vague gesture. "Yes. No - the other side."
Tahia gave a loud, frustrated sound before the clicking of the dishes told him that she'd found them. Something like a snort-laugh escaped her, but he could already tell that she was finishing up with the pasta. She came back without anything, however, and instead crouched in front of Alphonse with the medical kit, already wiping her hands with some antiseptic wipes.
"You shouldn't have pulled anything, but I'll check anyway," she told him, setting some gauze pads and tape aside. As usual, she got to work quickly - removing gauze without hesitation so as to make the process quick, though being careful enough that none of the stitches were stuck to the underside. She studied them and poked gentle, before she nodded her satisfaction and gently cleaned them up. Once that was done, she put fresh gauze pads and ensured they were firmly placed before she used more antiseptic wipes on her hands. "I shouldn't need to check on these until the stitches are due out. On the entry wounds, it should be a few days. The exit wounds could take as long as a week, but we'll see how you're healing. If your pain gets worse or you feel some acute pain around here," she gestured to the wounded area, but on her own body. Primarily around her back. "Tell me. Otherwise, you should be on the path to healing properly and safely. If you want to shower, there's plastic wrap in the kitchen that you can take and wrap around your midsection so you don't get the bandaging wet. I mean," she shrugged, "it's more important that you don't get the stitches wet, but yeah. You'll probably feel better if you shower."
The shade. Gale smiled and raised an eyebrow at Alphonse, before he turned his head to the kitchen.
"Don't set my kitchen on fire, Nanu."
Tahia muttered an oh sh*t and stood up quickly, packing the medical kit away before she headed back to the kitchenette area. He listened to her and gave an amused smile at the plates she brought out, setting one in front of each of them before she sat in her beanbag with her own. He glanced to the kitchen and, as expected, she'd dumped the pot in the sink.
"Eh," she grinned at Alphonse, and he glanced away from her to stare at the television. "Gives me experience. I mean, sh*t, man, I've seen a little worse than that," she made a little gesture with her hand. "But yeah, no problem. All you need now to let those wounds heal is to rest and eat well."
Wise beyond her years. Or quoting him. He had said similar before. He gave her a blank stare (to which she returned with a grin that flashed her teeth), and decided to just eat. It wasn't bad, not great - a chef, Tahia was not. He had no doubt in her medical skills and would trust in her ability to help with sickness or wounds, but...well. He found himself poking a little at his food.
She seemed to get the point and sighed softly as she stood up, wandering over to the cabinet (a forkful of food in her mouth as she went), rummaging briefly before she came back with painkillers. She handed them to Gale and then sat down.
"You're a pest," she said. "You better offer Al some."
"I don't have to if I take them all."
"Do not."
Gale smiled lazily at her before he set the painkillers on the table and pushed them over to Alphonse's direction, settling back down again as he swallowed the pills. Then, he went back to eating. Though not particularly hungry, he also didn't want to upset Tahia. After some time, though, his stomach protested at any more food and he sat the half-empty dish on the table. She glanced, seemed satisfied, and continued with her own meal.
"I have an English essay due tomorrow," she said, as casual as could be. Gale inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't suppose you're going to help me with that?"
"No, I'm not. It's an essay, you're not allowed to cheat."
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Apr 3, 2018 14:20:33 GMT -5
He hated to say it, but the normalcy that they brought with them seemed to be the missing piece he had needed. He didn't trust them [read: Gale] completely, but they had allowed him into something sacred that was theirs. It was something that made him feel slightly uneasy with himself. He didn't like the ease at which he was won over by simple acts of kindness. Watching them allowed him to play the part of voyeur, the stranger looking in from the outside, but they had invited him in as well.
He knew fully well he didn't belong, but for the time it would last he appreciated it. It had been awhile since his thoughts had as much clarity as it did now as everything unfolded in a strangely normal manner despite the fact that Gale had been stabbed. He would hold that against the other man after all his talk of being capable. Clearly he had been more bark than bite in that situation. And to imagine Gale had decide to hit him where it hurt.
Sparing him a glance from the corner of his eye, he knew he was still undecided on the man. He supposed, given some time, he would see Gale's true colors. They were bound by a contract and he did require a playable piece on his side of the board. His contacts in France were as good as dead ends to him and trying to reach out to hitmen and assassins that lived in the shadows while he was supposed to be dead for his own safety's sake wasn't the wisest of ideas. But Gale was hardly in peak physical condition either.
Hearing Nanu exclaim about the dishes, he almost smiled if it wasn't the innate knowledge that his entrance into their lives had ruined that schedule they had shared. Or perhaps she had just forgotten. It was hard to place. Either way, he respected what they had made for the two of them here.
Had he been a kinder man, he would have left. He knew he was opening the flood gates for danger to enter their house and he knew that it was a selfish move by him but they had offered him a shelter and he had decided to capitalize upon it. It was either that or be eaten by the wolves and collapse in on himself. And despite his lack of concern for his well being and self preservation, he had enough of a reason to not allow such a fate to win over. If he could simply die quietly, he would have stayed in France.
As Nanu gave him her time of day and headed over to him with the medical kit he attempted to accommodate to allow her to work easier. It seemed like things were holding up better this time around. Hopefully if he paced himself tomorrow, it would continue to hold up and not cause Nanu any grief. "I see," he murmured, taking note of everything she said. He knew how to keep a wound relatively in decent condition [despite what his condition upon arrival looked like] in a tame environment and this was as calm as he would be getting. He knew that much. Upon hearing her heavily imply that he needed a shower, he raised an eyebrow. It had been... one day. When he glanced towards Gale, the other man seemed to share some smugness with his daughter and Alphonse frowned slightly.
He knew that it probably would make him feel better, but he had left all his possessions at the other apartment he had yet to return to since arriving at Gale and Nanu's. "I have no doubt you're right..." He said, allowing his voice to trail off before smiling sheepishly at Nanu, "But I don't have anything with me." Clothes included.
As she waved off his thank you with humility, he chuckled and shook his head.
She was a good kid. Dione would like her. Hell, Dione would be able to give her a pointer or two about practical application of the medical field as well as some guidance if Nanu wanted to go to medical school. Leopald would probably offer her a job if he knew what she was capable of and teach her himself. Nanu, he decided, would have fit right in with those he knew had things been simpler and life been easier.
Having her place food in front of him, he tentatively eyed her handiwork. It looked edible for the most part. Poking it tentatively he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.
It had been a bad decision, but he committed. After all, he hadn't had an appetite in the morning and hardly ate enough and despite not having much of an appetite now, he would manage. Eating relatively slowly, he watched Gale poke and prod at it.
He would have too if it wasn't made by Nanu. He'd had enough experience with Colette's cooking in her younger years to know how to stomach bad cooking.
As Gale placed the painkillers near him, he contemplated it briefly before grabbing the bottle and swallowing two. He only smiled in response, taking his time to eat what Nanu had made before giving up half way through when his appetite protested. Placing the bowl down as well, he glanced up curiousky when Nanu mentioned her essay.
English, huh? "What's the essay on?"
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Post by Deleted on Apr 4, 2018 7:54:28 GMT -5
Truth be told, Gale was not relaxed; he knew, however, that it wasn't due to Alphonse. He was tense due to other reasons and those reasons went unsaid, but he knew that Tahia likely understood, to a degree. He wondered how it came across - if he was an open book or if he was as closed as he tried to be.
While he watched the interactions unfold, he listened idly to their conversation. He had no reason to intrude and, truth be told, it was interesting; Alphonse seemed to like his daughter and that in itself was a little odd. It was rare (had only happened a few times) that his employers actually met her and yes, these were weird circumstances anyway - but he had found that she was often the sort that went distrusted, the sort who unnerved them to a degree. He wondered if it was her age or the scars, wondered if they saw an inexperienced child until they looked deeper.
He doubted that Alphonse would be a threat to her, and for that, he was grateful. He watched them through half-closed eyes regardless, tensed on the off-chance that he'd have to step in.
"You're about my size," Tahia shrugged, collecting the dishes from the dinner - she was clearly fine with them not eating much - before she took them into the kitchen, paused, squinted, and dumped them there for now. It was there that she stayed for a few moments, rummaging in her bag before she checked over the stacks of papers on the table. She seemed to find what she needed, as she returned and settled next to the coffee table, setting her homework on top of it and dragging her bag with her. "I probably have some sweatpants and a shirt you can borrow."
The image of Alphonse in Tahia's clothes made Gale smile, though it was a discreet kind. He turned his head away and considered it. She had his sense of humour, which likely meant that if the other man agreed, he would be in for a mildly embarrassing time. The thought alone was enough to brighten Gale's day, even if he was grateful for his life being saved.
"The essay is on..." she drew out the last word a little as she checked the piece of paper in front of her, idly chewing the end of the pen. "The importance of English language in the modern day," her face formed into a small frown. "Or why I don't think it's important. Mostly it's opinion based but this is school, so I have to look like I care."
"Nanu." he said sharply. She looked up and shrugged.
"I know," she laughed, "I will put effort into it."
Gale made a doubtful sound and, after a moment, he stood up. The pain in his back was dulled by the pain medication which was something, at least. Though Tahia glanced at him curiously, he gave that curiosity no satisfaction as he headed over to the neatened blankets that were theoretically his bed - shoved into a quiet corner and often overlooked. He picked up his pillow and paused to rummage through a chest of drawers to find a bag of gummies. Tahia stared at him blankly and watched as he returned to where he'd been sitting - this time with the pillow against his lower back. It was less painful than sitting against the couch itself.
"You can't live from sweets," she said.
"No, you can't live from sweets," he corrected, crossing his legs and smiling at her innocently. "I never included myself in that. As long as you're eating properly, I can do what I want."
She made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat and turned her gaze away from him, with clear intentions to ignore him. Gale smiled and shook his head, picking up the television remote and flicking through until he found something interesting, just to keep his mind occupied. That said; he did keep an eye on the two from the corner of his eye, always ready to intervene in something if he needed to.
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Post by L’Éᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ on Apr 5, 2018 4:49:39 GMT -5
He knew Gale was not doing well and despite his general distaste of being the observed rather than the observer, he allowed it to happen. The other man did just get stabbed. And the injury certainly wasn't the root of his problems, Alphonse supposed. It wasn't hard to tell not because the man was easy to read but because he knew what to look for. He recognized all the signs because there were things that reflected back upon him. He could sympathize, at the very least, for the state that the other man was in.
He didn't pay Gale much heed after that, accepting that he was being watched. He could feel the man's lingering gaze on him and it was something that unsettled him. He had long came to associate the feeling of being watched with danger and though he knew Gale wasn't dangerous to him nor was he intimidated by the man, drawing the line between the distinctions was difficult when it set him on edge. But he didn't allow it to show lest it came back to haunt him in the future. He remained relaxed and focused despite his desire to leave. It hadn't bothered him until now and he wanted to try to rationalize with his mind that it shouldn't. Things were going fine. The hyper vigilance wasn't required. It could come back some other time when it was actually necessary.
Gently running a gloved thumb over his other hand in a soothing motion for himself, he weighed the pros and cons of wearing Nanu's clothes. It wasn't like it would be the end of the world and it was a good option if he wanted to feel less... well... bad. Taking the bait, he decided to nod at the offer. "If that's not too much, I wouldn't mind that."
Soon, Nanu had settled near him for his assistance. Upon hearing the essay topic, he mulled over it briefly. English and papers were two things he had quite a bit of experience with given his college background and the endless paperwork required of his law work, he supposed he was more than qualified to help. "So, what's your opinion on it then?" He said, hoping to hear Nanu's point of view before offering her suggestions and giving her tips.
Somewhere along the way, Gale had turned on the television and the focus on him had shifted. With a glance towards Gale, he knew the other man was still watching him, but it was less direct and whatever tension he had felt earlier was gone. That was better. Eventually, Nanu finished up her paper with some of his help and left to her room, bringing back her clothes as promised.
Deciding to leave Gale alone for the time being and take some time to himself for the first time since arriving at their household, he made his way to the kitchen and glanced at the plastic wrap Nanu directed him towards. Biting his lower lip in thought, he finally decided to cave in and wrap up his bandages in the kitchen. He didn't feel like making the journey back to the kitchen after the shower and whatever minimized his movements and effort was appealing.
Finishing up that, he found the bathroom and set up a shower. Though he generally preferred a quick shower, he took his time this time around, scrubbing dirt and grim from his hair and finding himself feeling slightly light headed and tired from all his efforts. It did help though. The warmth of the water and the overall soothing effects of the shower made him feel less on edge than he had been in the living room. Patting himself dry, he slowly unwrapped the plastic wrap checking to make sure the bandages didn't get wet.
They weren't, much to his relief.
Putting on the clothes Nanu handed him, he found himself with another dilemma. Holding his old clothes in his hands, he stared at the laundry baskets and wondered if it was too intrusive to assume and put them in there as well. Eventually, his inability to leave it laying around forced him to place it in there. He could wash it himself later at some other time, but at least he knew where it was for now.
Retracing his steps to the living room, he sat back down into the chair he had gotten acquaintance with in his time in their residence. Glancing at Gale, he decided it was time to ask an important question he had failed to ask before Gale had unceremoniously left. He couldn't ask it when Gale returned either so there seemed to be no better time than now to even the knowledge the two had on one another.
"You know, I never did quite catch your last name," he said, sighing as he settled into the chair. It was better this time around. Less strain on him which meant less aching in general now that he felt slightly more refreshed. "Also," he added, he had also been mulling over the number for quite some time, "How does ten thousand a month sound to you?"
Given that he was from a wealthy backing and still did have a quite a few bank accounts that were untouched due to their anonymous nature, he had the money to pay it. It wasn't a bad starting wage either and considering Gale wasn't paid well often, he supposed it was fair. He wasn't sure the skill level of the other man and there was no saying how things would end up. If Gale proved he was worth more - like most had to - he would get more.
That and he didn't have the hard cash on him to make good of his word immediately.
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