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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Nov 8, 2017 5:49:23 GMT -5
Things were normal as they could be which came as a surprise to Jean. He'd been expecting something on the horizons considering that there was more or less a turf war. Sure, the big man didn't like saying it that way choosing instead to flower it up with 'conflicts of interest' or some similar sh*t like that, but it was a turf war fair and square. The guys on the other side of the city wanted their fair share of the territory or something like that, but everyone knew that the Fournier Family owned Paris. Right? They'd have to be severely out of the loop to think otherwise, so whoever the hell these guys thought they were, Jean-Paul didn't agree. They didn't belong here and the quiet gang politics and violent retribution was becoming a little tiresome.
He'd been pretty young when the Fournier Family picked him up. His family was poor - but was is a big phrase - and despite making a lot more money, he doubted his mom liked the means he went to for it. He himself didn't quite mind it anymore. The first time he killed someone was the worst. Now, it was kind of strange to admit to it but he was itching for some sort of action to know that the old man hadn't lost his nerve. There was word going around that Alphonse was too cowardly to lay down the law and make the other family pay for trespassing the way they did.
He heard they were a pretty old and powerful family themselves, something to be reckoned with but they didn't use to be in Paris, so why they took interest now didn't make much sense to him. And to make things worse, Alphonse's response was dismissive at best. He wasn't sure what the man was planning, but it was frustrating to be kept out of the loop when the other guys - the ones more closer to the Godfather - knew what was going on. Or at least, they seemed to.
With this state of one sided warfare between the members of the two families and utter dismissal by the bosses, it was a strange kind of limbo. Knocking back his glass of whiskey, he sighed heavily. It would be easier if there was just a straight out war or alliance. He didn't mind getting involved in the fights, but sometimes it was hard to tell what Al wanted. Was he supposed to be picking this fight? Killing that guy? If he backed off from a fight did that make the family look weak or did it make them look like they actually wanted to talk about alliances and peace and whatever other sh*t the lead honchos did.
He didn't quite know, but he found himself on edge as he leaned back into the plush seats of Jacques's bar. The guy owned one of the most luxurious joints in the city on the third level of the city, closes to the Eiffel Tower. It had bullet proof glass and everything. The bar was one the gangs and families frequented often. It was some kind of neutral ground where no family owned. Sometimes deals were made here, but it also had its fair deal of fights though that generally was frowned upon by the other families.
Alphonse had personally came to apologize to Jacques for a couple of the newer kids when they had thrown a bar stool through the hologram television. There had been an exchanging of cash, but from his understanding, Jacques wasn't a man easily bought or sold. He didn't play sides, he took money from everyone and they respected his rules or they were out. Today, though, there was some tension lingering in the air. He could see some members from his family talking to some members from the other gang. This was not unusual. He'd seen them do this on the streets and vice versa.
The capo regime, the older made men, and the older associates knew better. But the younger members and the newer made men had so much to prove, they always wanted to pick a fight. It was something he could never understand. Alphonse was a logical man and he despised these schoolyard tactics of asserting dominance. He attacked other families by targeting their wallets, removing their associates, and other underhand tactics that came from his time as a spy. Or at least that was what rumors said. The man neither confirmed or denied those accusations. Seeing tension in the lines of one of the individuals involved in the argument, he picked up his bottle of whiskey and glass before trotting out past the patrons that were quietly ignoring the conflict.
When the first punch was thrown, he heard a bottle glass break and a bar stool go flying. He supposed they'd probably be seeing the emergency medical response team in a few followed shortly by the police. He didn't want to be apart of any of that. Heading back around the back of the building towards the alleyways, he passed a number of uniquely modified prostitutes looking for a job. Waving one off as he pushed his approach, Jean found a quiet little place in the darkness of the alleyway. Pouring out another two fingers of whiskey, he knocked it back, competently ignoring the sounds of conflicts in the bar.
It wasn't unusual for the nearby accountants from the bank down the road to get a drink here. Hopefully, they wouldn't notice him in the shadows. But if they did, maybe the cover story would save him the trouble of sitting at the police station. The last time he'd called Renato to get him out, the man had frowned thoughtfully and bailed him out before going to get gelato with him. Renny didn't leave him alone until four am in the morning after spilling another story about his latest heartbreak and terrible boyfriend. It was a pain sometimes and a relief at others. He liked Renny and the man made for one of the best friends he had ever had in a long shot, but sometimes the quiet was just better.
Leaning against the brick wall, he closed his eyes. It was a long day. Uneventful, but long. Hearing the sound of footsteps, he opened his eyes slowly to look at the newcomer from the corner of his eyes. Uncertain of the identity of the stranger in the dim lighting, he smiled and raised his bottle of whiskey. "Fancy a drink?" Damn classy. Nailed it.
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Post by The Blue Adept on Nov 8, 2017 21:24:51 GMT -5
Beau was more than relieved to have a spare moment to himself, something that seemed to come rarely to him these days. It was ironic considering how at one time he'd been so desperate to take part in his family's business, but being held out of the current conflict made it frustrating to figure out what was going on, and a breath of fresh air was like a blessing. He couldn't understand why his mother wanted Paris in the first place- perhaps chasing down some last scrap of his father, he didn't know, but it seemed masochistic. The Allard family had roots here, but they had never been particularly strong. When his parents had gotten married, most of their gang involvement had grown in Japan instead.
And yet, here they were, attempting to grab a hold of the old Allard family territory that had long since been absorbed back into the hands of the other gangs. Their rivals seemed intimidating- the Fourniers didn't seem like the type to spill unnecessary blood over a turf war, but once again Beau wasn't exactly very involved, but quietly wondered when Rei Allard herself would finally deal with the situation personally.
His mother had always been the one to keep him out of it, despite his right to inherit her title and power at the head of his family's affairs. She'd only allowed him to be 'prepared'- in a sense that he knew how to defend himself if the need came to be, though her underlings always made sure that he never had to. Perhaps Beau appreciated it, allowing him leeway to live his own way, but idle hands were the devil's workshop, and Beau always seemed unable to keep himself out of trouble. It was a good thing he'd never gotten caught.
Of course that was partially in thanks to his mother not being around often, coming home once in awhile to give him an over-abundance of affection and then leaving him once more to an empty house, left with an armed babysitter or two. He'd grown up that way, passed between loving arms, never resenting his mother for it but finding himself craving underhanded attention. Beau had kept up with the Allard family's business for years now, working anonymously in their affairs until he convinced his mother to let him at least do some simple work- she would want her son, her heir to have a good reputation, right?
He was supposed to be working with his mentor, but even that involvement was slim. He only ever caught a glimpse into what they were up to with the Fourniers that kept them so busy, as if looking through a fish-eye lens. And that was how he found himself at Jacques bar on this night- eavesdropping was a favored past time of his. This was neutral territory but that never stopped word from reaching it, and Beau could always rest easy knowing he could pick up some scrap of it here when he felt like it.
Beau was no stranger to Jacques bar, so he felt comfortable sitting by himself, drink in hand. Most times he'd come here in search of information for his own business-related motives, though often ending up spending the night with some stranger. He always enjoyed the mystery of it- basking in the attention of a random person, one that didn't know him just as he didn't know them. Most were too drunk to remember his face in the morning. Sometimes he got information out of them, but Beau knew that was not why he kept doing it.
It seemed that such a casual atmosphere would not be found in this bar tonight, though, as Beau felt the tension prickle in the air, making him sink lower in his seat. Beau didn't know the other members of his mother's gang too well except for some of the higher ups, ones that had always been involved in his life, people like his mentor, but the younger ones had always eluded him. He grew up with a few, never having gotten too close with any of them, but could tell with their pride that the neutrality pact in Jacques' bar wouldn't be enough to hold them back. Having quietly cleaned up their messes more than enough times, he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything about this by himself.
Beau quickly ducked out of the way as the fight broke out, abandoning his drink to step out into the chilly night air. He huffed slightly, staring down at the sidewalk and pulling out his phone, scrolling his thumb across the clear-glass screen. It wasn't even particularly late out, and Beau had no intention of going home just yet. With the sound of the fight raging on behind him, he poked his head around the side of the building and picked his way through to the back alleys, finding a place of solace to think and decide what to do next.
At least here he wouldn't be noticed when the police inevitably showed up, despising the idea of having to tell them about what happened. He certainly didn't want to end up in jail either, paling at the thought of disappointing his mother, or even meeting the eyes of Katou-san, his mentor, through the bars of a cell. With these thoughts paining him, he was surprised to find someone else seeking escape from the conflict inside. Beau couldn't quite make them out in the dark, but cracked a grin as the stranger lifted a bottle of whiskey. "Only if you fancy some company," he replied with a quiet laugh, accepting the bottle and taking a quick sip, alcohol burning his throat but making the rest of him comfortably warm.
Beau passed the bottle back and turned to lean up against the wall beside the stranger, ducking his head into the collar of his coat. "Glad to see i'm not the only one who isn't interested in getting punched in the face tonight," he joked lightly, attempting to draw a conversation out of this other person. It was so easy to talk when no one knew him, and he could pretend for a moment that he wasn't someone important at all, just having a drink in the alley of a bar. "Unless of course you want me to."
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Nov 15, 2017 8:52:50 GMT -5
The response was friendly enough for him to smile in return. He couldn't make out what the other looked like, but he knew it wasn't a voice he recognized, so they were a stranger after all. Chuckling softly, he allowed the bottle of whiskey to be taken from him. It wasn't a forceful action and he found that the stranger's voice was likable. And they were trying to be equally classy. How f*cking great. It made him grin in amusement even as he spoke, "Keep talking like that and I might start to think you do this often."
Accepting his bottle of whiskey back, he found that the other individual next to him was a welcomed presence. He had come here to be alone and to have a nice time, but now that there was a fight and he was out back in the alleyway, it was strange to imagine he actually liked the company he had suddenly garnered. It was a nice change of pace. He seldom picked up strangers from bars, but if they kept up on the track they were heading down, he had a sneaking suspicion he just might.
Tilting his head to catch a glimpse of the other's silhouette in the light of the moon, he only found out that now that they were close the other was a full head shorter than him. Huh, that was cute. Taking a swig straight from the bottle and pocketing the glass cup, he huffed at the statement. "Honestly, though, I don't get why they gotta pick fights every other day," he said, realizing he was down right venting to a stranger he met behind the bar in an alleyway. Well, f*ck if he cared. "It's like the guys there don't know how to talk like actual adults and let their fists do all the talking."
It was something the Godfather talked about a lot when he trained Jean-Paul. It was a strange concept to imagine that he was mentored by the head of the Fournier Family, but it was something. The man drilled the same lesson into him over and over again until he remembered it like second nature. Never pick a fight unless you knew you were absolutely going to win. If you're going to fight, throw the first punch. There was a whole list of those lessons in the back of his mind and it would seem like a ton of the new members missed the memo.
When the cops came, and he knew they would, Alphonse wasn't going to be happy. He kept the Family's records clean, what with his lawyer daylight job and all. The only way the cops even got their hands on any of them was due to "public misdemeanors" and sh*t like that and that was a common thing among gangs. The fights weren't supposed to be public commodities to be recorded by passersby and strangers. It was like being caught with the hand in the cookie jar.
"So, why Jacques'?" He asked, once again allowing his eyes to slide over to the other individual. Curious at the answer, he continued his line of questioning. "'Cause, I mean, not many people come here if they got the choice." He personally frequented the bar due to the familiarity and the safety. It was just something he did. He was a loyal patron to Jacques Bar, it was hard to imagine he would go elsewhere for a drink. Hell, there was no saying if they sold his preferred brand of whiskey there.
From outside, he could still hear the sounds of the fight. It only seemed to get worse with each passing second. Wincing inwardly, he pushed off of the wall. "Do you want to go elsewhere? The cops will be here soon and I don't feel like sticking around when they round up all the people involved in that fight. Whether or not you throw a punch doesn't mean anything to the flics." He waited, finding himself hoping that the other would come along. It was a wiser decision and it would be nice to spend some more time in the company of the stranger, but he wasn't going to be standing around twiddling his thumbs when the police came.
He didn't want to be one of the fellows that the family had to bail out. Besides, Al would be disapproving of him if he thought that Jean was involved in the fight. That was something he didn't like. The man's disappointment was a fearsome thing and he didn't want to test if it would make the other man angry. He was one of the ones that Alphonse would without a doubt tell that he should have known better.
There was a place in mind already. The bridge was one of the best places to hang out and the view was gorgeous. But there was also the roof of his small apartment complex. That was homely and a place he liked, quiet and nice to converse from. Or maybe his companion would have a great suggestion.
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Post by The Blue Adept on Nov 15, 2017 22:42:21 GMT -5
Beau laughed lightly at the reply, leaning his head back against the cold brick wall of the alley. "What, I don't immediately strike you as the type to drink with strangers in alleys? I must be doing something wrong then," he teased, trying to make out the appearance of the stranger in the dark. Definitely taller than him- he couldn't see much else until cars would pass, headlights briefly washing them in soft yellow light. Beau grinned to himself before ducking his gaze back down. Of course he'd end up meeting some attractive stranger in the oddest way possible.
While the identity of this stranger had him curious, the growing conversation was an all too pressing reminder of the gang situation around them. Beau could do nothing but nod in agreement, shrugging slightly. "Everyone has something to prove. Some people just pick very violent ways to do it," he offered, frowning slightly. This was certainly something that didn't help relations between the gangs. Maybe if the new members weren't always quarreling in a faux-d*ck measuring contest it wouldn't be so hard to deal with each other in a more friendly manner.
Thinking about it wasn't going to ruin his night though, Beau determined, glancing over at the stranger again. "Well, better them than us, right?" he smiled, giving them a light nudge to the arm. The fighting would catch up to him at some point, one way or another he'd be dealing with it. His mother generally had a firm hand in keeping things clean, but Beau often liked to anonymously intervene with the lesser stuff, wipe a few records here and there, paying bail and picking them up for the little crimes. The police here didn't take too well to negotiating either, but he managed. Things could get done when the gang wasn't always tripping over the messes of the other members.
As much of a troublemaker as Beau could be, at least he knew when and where to do it, and to not get caught. He wanted attention from his mom often as a kid, but being brought to her because he'd punched some kid at school in the face was really not the way he wanted her to see him. Frankly, he hated thinking that she even had to deal with these petty fights, which was partially why he would cover them up himself. It was more helpful than giving her a mother's day gift, all things considered.
Beau found himself grinning again at the stranger's question, something he had never had to answer before. He couldn't be too honest- sure, most people at this bar were involved in the criminal world in some way or another, but Beau didn't want this person to think he was extorting him. Still, he found himself struggling to skirt the real answer. "I like interesting people," he replied, toeing at an empty can on the ground, leaning into the other person just a bit. "There's always interesting people here, saying interesting things. Your average bar just wont cut it for me."
The fight only grew louder in the distance, and even as the stranger pushed off of the wall and stood in front of him, Beau couldn't bring himself to properly care. This moment was entirely too distracting, following after them as they slipped out from the shadows of the wall. "I think that, right now, I might go anywhere with you," he breathed a laugh, before pausing slightly and tilting his head. "Unless of course this was all just your evil plan and you're going to take me somewhere quiet to murder me, but with a pretty face like that I think I'd just let you do it."
Yeah, smooth, flirting with a stranger in an alleyway. Admittedly, it was incredibly exciting and entertaining to him, though this time felt a little different. Considering he hadn't gone into this with ulterior motives like other times, it made his heart race a bit, like he was some sort of teenager running off with someone past curfew. To be fair, the stranger and their smile was very enticing. Plus, he didn't fancy the idea of getting arrested by association with the fight.
Beau approached the stranger, reaching out to grab their sleeve. Anonymity be damned, he didn't think he could handle it not knowing who this was, even if they lied to him. Just to make sure this wasn't going to feel like some sort of very pleasant alcohol-induced hallucination in the morning. If he wasn't going to snag some dirty secrets he was definitely going to keep a name to remember them by.
"I'll go with you as long as you tell me your name."
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Nov 16, 2017 18:21:45 GMT -5
Standing a fair distance away from the stranger, he couldn't help but wish that he didn't move at all. When they were standing close to one another, he could feel the heat radiating off the other. He had no doubt he would have felt the slight vibrations that followed the laugh. "Guess you gotta get on top of your game then," he answered playfully, smiling as he squinted at the other. They didn't feel dangerous to him, he didn't think they were out for him. He was an associate of the family, too, so he highly doubted he was that high on the priority list unless they'd been doing their research.
Besides, it was the possibility of danger and of pleasure that gave these acts a slight sensation of thrill. Holding his name on the tip of his tongue, he couldn't help but feel that this stranger wasn't someone normal or low in the families either. He certainly wasn't from the Fournier Family. Jean knew enough about the high standing members and this individual didn't hold themself like one of the lower ranked members. They knew how to handle themself. From their answer, it seemed like they also played a hand in the intel gathering business. An associate like himself, maybe?
"Jean," he finally answered, finally offering his name. This was dangerous territory, but then again, there was also many a Jean-Paul in the streets of Paris. "Jean-Paul, that's my name. And yours?" It only seemed fair that if he was going to give the other an answer, he would get one in turn. He saw for the first time as a car drove by what the other individual looked like and damn they were good looking. He was being verbally felt up by a very good looking stranger and he didn't know how he felt about the situation.. They were interesting to say the least. They had a very unique perspective and he found that they were good company. He just hoped he wouldn't regret any of this.
And he was supposed to be the smooth talker too, but it seemed like the stranger was always one step ahead of him with the flirtations and casually mysterious answers. It was a bit infuriating to feel outclassed in a match of wits, but at the same time, it was highly charming and he couldn't help but chuckle. "I won't murder you, by the way. I think it'd be a shame if someone as good looking as you was found dead. A true tragedy." He tipped his head, keeping his body loose and relaxed, hoping that it was also equally obvious he was teasing the stranger in response.
It was strange to imagine that they were already exchanging their f*cking names after meeting for less than a few minutes, but God he couldn't find it in him to complain. There was a certain aura around this individual that made him want to know more about them. The anonymity of this situation had already been compromised when they asked for his name and then he gave it without contemplating the consequences. Now it was up to them to seal this pact they'd somehow made. It seemed like the thrill of anonymity was less compelling compared to the adrenaline that came with telling the truth when they were involved in the misery business.
It was a different kind of thrill. It was a game of trust and he didn't know why, but dancing around with this stranger and solely functioning on the whim that they were also being honest about their intentions made it seem all the more dangerous. And yet it was intoxicating.
"So now that we're friends and everything because we exchanged our names like schoolyard kids, wanna blow this joint?" He added, voice trailing off in a playful tone. It seemed like he was getting first pick of where they were going so maybe the bridge. They could get beer or something from the nearby convenience store. Get wasted with a stranger on a bridge? That sounded like an ideal first date. First d...? Oh no.
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Post by The Blue Adept on Nov 17, 2017 3:32:44 GMT -5
Beau's grin spread wide hearing the stranger confess their name, knowing that with the confidence they exuded it was surely true, or at least this person was a very good liar. He decided he would take their word for it- after all, that was what he was playing at. Spilling just enough truth to make them interested and not enough to give himself away. A game of cat and mouse, with both of them the cat and the mouse at once.Β "Jean-Paul...I like that," he mused, saying the other's name aloud as if to test the way it felt coming from his mouth.
Unfortunately, being honest about his own name wasn't as easy. His full name, at least. Isabeau wasn't exactly a name often associated with males, and as fond as he was of it his nickname was always easier, and not a dead giveaway to his identity. After all, Jean-Paul seemed like a smart guy- slick and clever with his answers, knowing just the right questions to ask, which only made Beau all the more curious about who exactly this person was. Maybe someone important, someone who had their fingers a little deeper in the gang business than the likes of the people fighting out inside the bar. Surely someone who knew how to handle a situation just like this.
After a moment Beau nodded, tilting his head. "Name's Beau. It is a d*mn delight to meet you here in this pleasant alleyway," he replied, gesturing to the dirty wall behind them with a lighthearted smirk. No reasonable person would be interested in making pals behind a bar, and that made this all the more sweet. It could only mean that Jean was just as curious as he was to want to continue this conversation. The guy was the one to suggest ditching, which really piqued Beau's interest. They were already on a first name basis, but he didn't want to get too greedy.
Jean's response only made that desire worse, Beau letting out a surprised laugh. "Hah! So he can sweet talk right back! As flattered as I am, that's something that a serial killer would say before murdering someone, so," he teased in return, grateful that Jean could bounce right off his obviously flirty jokes in equal measure.Β Β It was something that he liked a lot, though of course he couldn't give that tidbit away already. It was a powerful weapon and he wasn't sure if he trusted Jean with it quite yet.
Although he was starting to feel like he could very quickly, raising his eyebrows high at Jean's suggestion, clicking his tongue. He couldn't tell what amused him more: Jean's adorable slang, or the very open invitation for innuendo. He stepped over towards the sidewalk, spinning around to face Jean with a flash of mischief on hisΒ face. "I want to blow a lot of things, but I'll settle for this. Where do you have in mind?" he grinned, holding out his elbow, hand still tucked into his jacket as if he were about to be escorted to prom. This was a classy affair, they had silently agreed.
"Unless it's a surprise, which I'm okay with even if that's another serial killer red flag," he added, pursing his lips. "Although most things will surprise me. I don't know the cool hang out places, things have changed a bit since the last time I was here." Beau wasn't sure whether or not that last bit would tip Jean off considering the Allard Family's recent return to Paris. It was obvious that Beau wasn't some kind of tourist, so he was a little curious to see what Jean would decipher. It was vague enough, and Beau felt like he had to give a little in order to get a little, so it was a necessary sacrifice.
It was true though: he'd grown up here, then left with his mother and most of the family for Japan when he was 10. In this day and age, 17 years meant nothing when it came to cities and societies changing, and with the hole the Allard Family left behind being filled in, Beau was really having to find his own way around again. He'd traveledΒ back a few times, only briefly, not enough for him to commit anything new to memory. Now with Jean here, he was curious to see what the other knew, and what secret places he might be fond of. You could tell a lot about a person by where they liked to chill, and Beau was all too eager to find out.
He also found himself trying not to think too hard about how intimate this was all turning out. This night could go either way, and he was pretty sure he'd be okay with either outcome. Friendship? Check. Mutual attraction? Check.Β Tonight was a wild card.
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Nov 20, 2017 8:34:41 GMT -5
There was something about hearing his name on the stranger's tongue that made it seem sensual. Or was that him? It could be completely him and he knew that for a fact. It was just the the way Beau said it that made him grin a little wider. It had him holding the words I'll have you saying that all night on the tip of his tongue instead of stating it aloud. He was starting to feel like he was less interested in spending the night that way with Beau and just getting to know the other man. Not to mention, even his name held some air of interest. Handsome. His parents sure hit that one right on the mark.
"That's a fitting name," he teased, finding himself in a terrible snare. This was a dangerous game and he was falling right in alongside Beau. It might prove to have violent consequences, but he would relish it while it lasted. He couldn't help but feel a bit of warmth flush up into his face at the following things Beau said. There was something about having the other man calling him out on his flirtations in response that made him feel embarrassed like this was his first time doing this. But also, the teasing tone and implication almost made it feel to him like the statement was to encourage it from him.
And hell, if that laugh wasn't cute. He grinned, pushing aside the butterflies in his stomach and his racing pulse, choose instead to assume a facade of control and elegance. In all honestly, he was intrigued and starting to feel like this was a dance with the devil. There was a lot of control that Beau held in the situation just with his easy confidence. Or at least, it seemed easy. It wasn't that Jean had a hard time finding equal confidence, but the way Beau operated himself was smooth and highly entrancing that made him want to learn more about what made Beau ticked and what could break that confidence and make him blush.
"You mention serial killers a lot," he said, laughing as he did, "You don't happen to be foreshadowing something, are you?" His jest seemed to fall short the second the innuendo left Beau's mouth though and he couldn't help but find his eyes lowering slightly to eye the other man's lips in the darkness of the alleyway before flicking back up to look at the other's eyes as if he had never been focusing on Beau's lips in the first place. God damn it. Beau was making this seem far too easy to get him to blush and he wet his lips before worrying his lower lip in order to avoid saying something terribly stupid before inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly.
Rolling his eyes, he started to head towards his car, throwing his head back to cast a glance to make sure Beau was following. He had no doubt the other man was, but he... just had to be sure. He had all the intentions of telling Beau at first, but when the other man mentioned the damn serial killer thing, he couldn't help but grin. "It's a surprise," he said casually, amused at how this newfound dynamic. It was just a lot of fun talking to Beau. The other man made it easy, a little embarrassing, and also very amusing. And he was a mystery to unravel and Jean was a sucker for a good mystery.
Though what Beau said left him contemplating the nature of his companion. There were many variations to what the information he had been offered could mean. If he came from out of Paris, it could be he was coming to assist the Allard Family, or he had followed them. There was also the possibility he could be something tame, like a reporter entering a den of lions, but the way he held himself and the self assurance he held didn't seem like it. Perhaps he was a simple lackey or just a member from another family, one that wasn't trying to enter a territorial war with the Fournier Family. For the sake of that damn cute smile, he sure hoped so.
Stopping in front of his silver 1966 Porsche 906 Carrera. It was one hell of an old model, kept in good condition and he had even had the engine removed and replaced with something with a lot more kick and horsepower for the street races he sometimes found himself in. Just the rumble of the engine was enough to make a man feel powerful, after all. It was an expensive ride, and he glanced to his companion wondering if it was just too telling. Money meant rank, and rank meant knowledge. Maybe he should have brought something less showy.
Well, it was too late for that. Opening the door, he grinned to Beau, nodding to the seat. "After you." Hopefully, the scenic streets of Paris on the way to the Pont Alexandre III
. The architecture of the bridge was something he had long admired. At night, it felt almost regal walking down the bridge and it had a lot of history in France too. It was on the first level of the city, but it was worth going through all the traffic too, especially considering it was a weekday and that meant they were bound to be lucky since the tourist traffic was the most they had to deal with and there was no holiday which meant less people to deal with.
"So," he said, entering the car and settling into the seats before seat belting, "you just came back? How's Paris treating you? Well, I hope?"
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Post by The Blue Adept on Dec 23, 2017 3:14:11 GMT -5
Beau really couldn't stop himself from grinning at Jean's compliment, turning his head as if to hide it in the collar of his jacket. Having grown up surrounded by people who wove their lives through lie, he had gotten fairly good at seeing through a facade, and Jean's words sounded so absolutely sincere that he almost blushed. F*ck. Alright, he wasn't about to give that up so easily. "Why thank you," he replied, cupping his own cheeks and fluttering his eyelashes dramatically. "Gosh, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were flirting with me," he smirked, teasing right back, round and round. Jean was making it way too easy.
Adjusting his jacket a bit, Beau followed after Jean without hesitation, briefly glancing over his shoulder as the wails of police sirens grew closer. "Can you blame a guy for being careful? There's lots of awful nasty people here my dear sweet Jean, and I don't intend to be taken advantage of," he pointed out simply, tone all too casual for the reality of the situation, with a threat thinly veiled beneath his words, knife sharp. Of course their back and forth seemed too light, and Jean didn't strike him as someone with an ulterior motive, at least not at the moment. Sure there was a ton of danger vaguely disguised as mystery here, but it was the flavor of mystery that Beau enjoyed quite a bit. He still wanted to be as clear as he could be.
If either of them were to end up dead in a ditch by morning, Beau wasn't about to let it be himself. A bed seemed like the more likely outcome right now. And if the tone took a drastic change, well it wouldn't anything that his trusty knife couldn't solve. And, truly, if there was any one perfect way to go out, it would be by the hands of a really hot dude, Beau decided. He really couldn't lose if things went south.
Those sort of thoughts fell to the back of his mind quickly as he followed Jean, finding himself even enjoying staring at the back of the guy's head as he quickened his steps a bit to catch up. D*mn long legged beautiful b*stard, that one. A surprise, huh. "I hope the surprise isn't murder," he laughed, way too amused at his own joke with Jean, biting down hard on his lip to fight an uncontrollable grin. He could practically feel the inside joke forming for future use.
Future use...Beau wondered how this night really would end. He wondered if he'd ever see Jean again, in the flesh or in the news as another tragic causality of this crooked life. He was having such a good time the whole ordeal was starting to feel surreal, like a rip in time he'd never experience again. The sort of thing you wake up from and realize it was all a dream. Under the streetlights, the neon signs, sharing a moment with a stranger. He really didn't want to give it up.
His thoughts had all but left his brain as they stopped in front of Jean's car, Beau blinking disbelief for a split second. It was... a lot to take in. Just who the hell is this guy? Distracted, he ran his fingers along the hood of the car, just to make sure it was real and not an alcohol induced hallucination. Should try it with Jean's face too, for good measure. He puffed out his cheeks and nodded in silent approval before slipping into the passenger seat, entering with the carefulness of a stranger in a new friend's home and the ease of someone who enjoyed a nice car.
Beau had almost entirely forgotten a very important detail, and while Jean got into the seat beside him he fetched his phone from his jacket pocket and shot out a few text messages.
beau: hey nobu u out tonite?
nobuboi: ya on a run. u wanna play the new super mario i heard that shiz was lit
beau: later, i need u 2 pick up my bike for me. it's at jacques'
nobuboi: oo the mercedes? hell yea u never let me drive it
beau: pls dont crash it
nobuboi: no promises cuz
beau: fuk u
Tucking his phone away, he situated himself, buckling the seatbelt and taking a minute to move his prying eyes around the interior of the car, trying not to look too excited on his face. "You compensating for something? What a shame," he tsked with that sly smirk of his, getting comfortable in the seat and resting one foot on his knee, flicking the wheel in the heel of his shoe. "Too bad I wont be riding these bad boys all the way home," he hummed as if it were entirely acceptable and normal to be an elusive criminal variety sporting some very nice looking heelies. Couldn't beat this car, but they sure were a sight.
More and more questions sprung up in his head like daisies, it was a miracle he could keep himself from asking them all at once. It would have to be a careful process, smooth and unprying, his curiosity sated one word at a time. This car made it quite clear to Beau that Jean wasn't some nobody, but nothing else gave any hint as to exactly who he was. Beau didn't know enough about the gangs and prolific families around these parts to make assumptions, but just thinking about it made his pulse quicken. Playing with fire had never seemed so enticing.
"Better than I expected. I was still a kid when my family left so it's hard to picture this place being any different, but I'm finding myself pleasantly surprised," he replied, the words easy and genuine, "and well, with you here, I think Paris is treating me extremely well." He winked with that, unable to resist it in this small space.
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