C'est La Vie

Who: Viveka ot Adi
Where: their home
When: mid August

Viveka hadn't been feeling particularly well - she assumed the August heat had been the cause of it. The kitchen particularly was sweltering, and the small windows didn't let in much breeze. She spent many afternoons sitting in the shade on the porch until the heat passed enough that the house became bearable again.

In the mornings lately, she'd felt sick upon waking, and had spent longer laying in bed than she would have normally. It was starting to worry her, but she hadn't wanted to trouble Adi with it. Doctors were expensive, and a military doctor might ask too many questions, look too closely. And a French doctor might not want to treat a German woman at all.

Today though, she didn't feel like getting out of bed at all, so she knew she would have to tell Adi. "Dear," she said when they woke in the morning. "I'm not feeling up to making breakfast today..."

Who: Charlie, Marie, Vito, Open
What: Resistance Activities
Where: The Black Death Tavern/Streets of Paris/Marie's Bakery
When: 15, August 1941
Completed: No

Fancy sat on the side of bed, opposite the American Captain. They were both still dressing with their backs to each other. Like an old married couple who had had a fight or a couple on the first morning after when they were both full of regrets. Only they were neither, Fancy couldn't even say they were friends. Merely allies, bedfellows, like their countries; willing to work together but not quite ready to admit that they need each other to survive. 

As she sits, buckling her high heel shoes, she wonders what Marie is doing, who the 'photographer' is, and if this will all work out ok. She's frightened, in more ways then one.

"Are you decent Charlie?" She calls over her shoulder in French, knowing he needs all the practice he can get. "I have something for you before we go."

Who: Jackie OT Anyone
Where: A Park
When: Mid August

At times, she didn't want to admit it, but she missed the outdoors. When she was younger, she was always outdoors. She played games with her friends, went fishing in the nearby river and made her mother angry by ruining her clothing.

When she got older, she stayed indoors more, and forgot how to play. Now the young woman sat on a bench in the park, and thought back to those times. It was before she realized that life could get hard. She had a lot to be thankful for right now, so she focused on that. Things would get worse before they got better.

But they would get better. They had to.

The singer sat back, and watched birds for a moment.

Who: Josephine ot anyone
Where: a small outdoor cafe
When: Afternoon, mid-August


Josephine sat at one of her favorite cafes, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine as she ate. Dining outdoors was an acquired taste - some people preferred the inside tables, but unless it was too windy, she liked to watch the people pass by as she ate and to feed little bits of sandwich to any passing birds.

Things were going fairly well for her now - the hospital was in good supply again, though hours were still occasionally long when a shift was shorthanded. Not many serious injuries had occurred lately, and there were no outbreaks of any sort with the weather being so pleasant.

Furthermore, she had friends outside of work now, people with whom to be social. That was nice. She remembered fondly the dinner party she'd been invited to only last month, with the American singer and her strange cat. She wondered if Jackie was playing anywhere good these days - it might be time to catch another show.

Who: Gretchen and Open
When: Tuesday Afternoon
Where: Cafe

Gretchen had just gotten off of work from the seamstress shop today, and wanted to relax a little before turning in for the day. She wanted to enjoy the lovely day that the city was having. The sun was shining, but it wasn't too hot to be uncomfortable to sit outside. She decided to visit a cafe that was near her work place.

Once she sat down at a table outside, she ordered a glass of water and a light dinner. She wasn't very hungry, but she wasn't much of a cook herself, so she tended to eat out more often than not. There wasn't much for her to do day to day. Hans worked a lot, and she didn't know many others in the city yet. She hoped to meet someone new soon, possibly even make a friend.

Who: James & Lucy
What: Brother and sister reunite!
Where: Streets of Paris
When: 21 July, mid-morning
Rating: PG?

It was a rather warm July morning, the air already somewhat heavy. Lucy couldn't stand to be in her incredibly hot flat. She had thrown open all the windows, hoping to catch a cross-breeze, but all she got was the smell of sweaty grumpy Parisians and the rotten garbage on the curb below. Unable to write in the sickly warm apartment, Lucy had decided to go out in hopes of distraction.

The park seemed like a good idea -- lots of open air, a fountain -- Lucy could sun herself for a while. She settled on a bench protected by the shade of a tall tree. She had brought her notebook but decided her brain wasn't going to work correctly in this heat, so instead the blonde amusedly watched the people around her. There were two small children playing with a ball just across the path, a German soldier in full uniform with a firearm standing watch nearby. She wished she had brought a camera. That would have been an excellent picture for the paper. There was an elderly couple just beyond that, strolling on the path hand in hand. Lucy couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Those people still had love in a time like this, still had family.

Then -- no, it wasn't James. Lucy had been having these moments for the past few months, times when she thought she saw her brother in the streets. They had been increasing ever since she had received the telegram. But it looked just like him; the hair, the stature -- except he had a cane. It was possible that James had been injured. He was, after all, missing. Lucy dared not hope that it was him, but there was just something so familiar about the man just down the path. She stood up, squinting as he moved closer. Taking a few tentative steps toward the man, her heart started pounding faster. She thought it was going to burst through her chest. And then she could see them: his eyes. Lucy would know her brother's eyes anywhere, and there was no doubt that they were his. But was it her imagination? Was she dreaming all of this? Stepping out into the path of the man, she stood and stared.

"James?" she asked, her voice quavering.

Who: Victoire & OPEN 
What: Night at Work
Where: The Black Death Tavern
When: Current

Glasses clinked, men laughed, women whispered. It was a typical night. The tavern was almost full, but not quite. The costumers were calm and entertained, and the girls who were downstairs were doing a good job of tending both bar and patron. It was a good and uneventful night. Fancy enjoyed these nights. Simple and easy. 

"Victoire, bring me a few more bottles of whisky from the storeroom, we're running low." she ordered.

Who: Marie-Pierre ffff i spelled his name backwards, ot hans if he wants
Where: the secret apartment
When: evening

Coming back felt like as much work as the absence itself had been.

Places to check in, people to visit, messages to deliver, and all before he had even had time to sit down.  He ought, he knew, to go find Hans - he owed it, really, and not contacting him immediately would not count well in his favour - but Duclos was tired beyond the mere physical, and the thought of having to deal with the possible emotions involved in returning to Hans' company - he had probably been worried; would perhaps be upset at the lack of communication, even if he understood the requirements of the service; might expect explanations which would need to be refused - it would be a balancing act between who Duclos was and what he needed to be; it was exhausting to contemplate.

The second-nature careful journey to remain unnoticed, the trot up the back stairs, the quick examination of the room to be certain it was the same, it was safe, it had kept his secrets - and then he lay straight down on the bed without even taking his shoes off.

Was it a homecoming?  Was this his home?

Questions with no answer and therefore not worth asking.  Tomorrow - tomorrow he would call upon Hans, and stop by the café to see Mireille, and do a dozen other things both personal and professional that he'd neglected today.  Right now he was going to sit.  Right.  Here.

Who: Hans, Michel, anyone else who might be there
Where: the theater, then traveling, then Notre Dame
When: Saturday


Hans slept fitfully all night, and thus was more tired than he would have liked when he woke in the morning. Still, he had the day off, and he was going for a tour of Notre Dame with Michel so he was in fairly good spirits. He only hoped that all the walking did not agrivate his injuries. He'd been recovering fairly well, but still this terrible weakness that siezed him at the most inoportune moments was worrysome. After bathing, he dressed his injury. The wound itself was still red, the scab starting to turn to scar now that the stitches were out, and he had to resist the urge to pick at it.

He dressed himself after - in something causal but nice, and tried not to think about how he would feel setting foot in a church (however tourist attraction it was) after so many years. More than that, he tried not to think about the first tour of the city he had taken - the one where Marie-Pierre had shown him sights not found on any map. There was no sense thinking of any of that now. He was going on a proper tour, to see the sights that every tourist should see.

After a brisk walk, he wound up standing at the theater door five minutes early. He headed inside to find Michel, anxious to begin their tour. "Are you ready?" he called. "We must go before they run out of holy water and little statues..."

Who: Viveka
When: Current
Where: Max's apartment

Maxine had been back in her apartment for only a couple of hours before she discovered the items that were missing from her drawers. She was furious and was trying to decide how to go about retrieving her things when there was a knock on the door.

She opened it to reveal a tall British gentleman of her acquaintance from England. "I suppose it was you who raided my apartment while I was in England." She scowled.

"It's not your apartment, it's ours." He walked into the room.

She rolled her eyes, "come in." She shut the door.

He pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it. "There has been some concern that you're losing your focus. I stuck up for you."

"Give me my pictures and my letter."

"No."

"Goddamnit, Lucien. I may have sold you brits my time, but I did not sell you my life!"

"Au contraire ma belle, Maxine, each and every one of us has sold ourselves to this war."

"Get out!" She opened the door.

"Maxine, do try to keep your temper in check."

"You think I'm kidding, Lucien? Get out before I do something I'll regret. And don't you dare come back unless you have my things, you pompous bastard."

"Fine, I'll go." He put out the cigarette in an ashtray by the door. "But just remember not to lose your focus."

"Out!"

He left the apartment and nearly knocked into Viveka as he left. Maxine rubbed her eyes, trying to keep her emotions in check.

Who: Michel OT Hans
When: Current
What: A Café, and a sense of déjà vu.

This particular café is a bit out of Michel's way, but he comes for the superior coffee. Sometimes he wonders how the owners manages to get such good coffee during wartime, but then he thinks better of it, and simply enjoys the coffee.

Today, he managed to get a window seat, and sat with his back to the wall and his legs on the window sill, crossed at the ankles. He alternated between reading his paper and people-watching while sipping his coffee.

Who: OPEN
What: The piscine musketeer strikes again.
Where: Moulin Noir
When: July
Incomplete

( Half an hour of 'Swordfish!' )

Who: Charlie, Open
What: French Lesson
Where: The Black Death Tavern - Fancy's bedroom
When: Current

The last person Fancy had taught French to was an infant who didn't know any language at all. She figured teaching a grown man was going to be far more challenging. Still, despite the age difference, she thought it prudent to start the same way. Simply. She was awake before Charlie, a rarity in and of itself, had bathed and dressed. Normally she would've spent as much of the day as she could in her nightgown to help manage the heat. But such a thing she did not doubt would upset Charlie's sensitive nature and distract him from his language lesson.

She had brought in and set up breakfast on the table before waking Charlie. She sat on the side of the bed and reached out to gently shake his shoulder. "Réveillez-vous, il est l'heure pour le déjeuner."

Who: Michel OT Hans
When: July 10, roughly 5:00pm
Where: Outside the Théâtre de Benoit, on the road
What: Hans picks Michel up for the dinner party

Michel stood outside the theater, leaning up against the doors while he waited for Varner to show up. He didn't know what type of dinner party this was, how formal he needed to dress, so he played it safe with a favorite black suit, crisply ironed by Adélaïde. The single-button jacket was cut a tad long, and the pants mildly loose to allow movement. He disliked wearing ties, preferring to allow one shirt button to be open, but he wore one; he'd allowed Adélaïde that much. She had selected a solid deep wine colored one.

He glanced at his watch - it was nearly 5:00pm. Hans should arrive any moment. Michel briefly wondered what type of car he'd be driving when he heard a loud rumbling noise coming from around the corner to his right.

Who: Anyone
What: Anything
Where: An open air cafe
When: Current
Status: Incomplete

Fancy smiled at the gentleman across from her as he stood and moved over so as to be able to lean down and kiss her cheek. He also took her hand, that was where the money was exchanged. And a good deal of it two. Two girls for an entire evening, herself included, the opera, dinner, drinks, the hotel bill, pay for the girls fare back the next morning, the tab for this little meeting to arrange things; it was a lot of money, even for him. But for a man wanting to schmooze an out of town investor Fancy's services were more than worth the expense. She'd built and kept her business through her reputation, which was very good indeed. He said his goodbyes and was off. Fancy stayed behind and lingered over her drink. She had no other pressing engagements in town today. 

Who: Hans ot Gretchen, Michel, anyone else at the theater
Where: The Théâtre de Benoit
When: July 9th, evening performance

Hans dressed formally for the occasion, impeccably well in his best suit and tie. Only his distinctly Aryan features and the fact that his clothing was in good repair (unlike many of the French who could no longer afford upkeep on their garments) distinguished him from the crowd. He lead his sister, lovely in her gown and done-up hair - but so grown up! - in through the lobby. He could not believe how adult she looked, how very much now like their mother. He was proud to have her on his arm as they walked in - and also glad that it would likely keep any admirers at bay. He wondered how he would deal with such things when she did wish to date - what boy could be good enough for Gretchen? For that matter, perhaps she already had a boyfriend and chose not to inform him. He wouldn't blame her, the way he'd been acting lately...

His fight with Benoit the other day was inexcusable. Hans, as an officer and a gentleman, should have known to hold his tongue. Though they'd made up afterward and parted as friends, he was still a bit edgy about the experience and hoped that Benoit would not bring the matter up in front of Gretchen.

"Let us find our seats," Hans said to his sister, making his way towards the interior.

Who: Gretchen OT Hans
Where: Starting at Hans' Place
When: July 8, 1941, Early Evening

Gretchen stopped by Hans' house, hoping to see him. Ever since his friend left town, he had been in a blue mood. Of course, getting shot hadn't helped matters at all. She was glad that he was finally able to go back to work, but now he was either at work or sitting around at home and doing nothing. She didn't realize how close him and Marie-Pierre were, but they must have been the best of friends for him to be moping like this.

Gretchen knocked on his door, hoping that he was inside. Of course, if he wasn't, maybe that meant that he had decided to stop moping about and go out. She wasn't expecting him to do such a thing, though. However, if he was still inside, he was going to go out with her whether he wanted to or not. You shouldn't spend all of your free time alone in a house.

Who: Michel OT Hans
Where: The Théâtre de Benoit
What: Hans finds the strange Frenchman
When: Mid-Afternoon

Michel stood among the rows of empty seats, just inside the circle of light cast from the stage, watching his performers nearing the end of the last scene.

" Now, until the break of day,
Through this house each fairy stray,
To the best bride-bed will we,
Which by us shall blessed be;
And the issue there create
Ever shall be fortunate.
So shall all the couples three
Ever true in loving be;
And the blots of Nature's hand
Shall not in their issue stand:
Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar,
Nor mark prodigious, such as are
Despised in nativity,
Shall upon their children be.—
With this field-dew consecrate,
Every fairy take his gate;
And each several chamber bless,
Through this palace, with sweet peace;
E'er shall it in safety rest,
And the owner of it blest.
Trip away:
Make no stay:
Meet me all by break of day."

He smiled as Alec hit every line perfectly. He turned his eyes to Jean-Pierre as he began Puck's last monologue.

Who: Jackie OT anyone that she knows
Where: Vito's place
When: July 10, 1941

With her rations and Vito's rations, and a few things they probably shouldn't have had, Jackie was able to put together a pretty nice sized dinner. She probably should have had it at her flat, but it looked better if it was Vito's.

She invited the people who were mostly friends, and told them they could bring a friend. All it was, was a quiet dinner, right? She'd also invited Hans. That might be a problem for some of her guests, but... he was Hans. She felt really bad for some recent events, and she just had to invite him.

Now that dinner was set on the table, all Jackie had to do was find her cat and set her in the cage. Her cat was curled up in a corner, and Jackie KNEW she wouldn't be able to move him.

"Now, Gunju, you're going to have to behave around all these people. I'll give you somethin special later, if you're a good kitty."

The cat looked up when his name was mentioned, but when he saw she didn't have any food, he went back to licking his paws.

Who: Victoire, the bartender at Le Moulin Noir, and anyone involved in the Resistance
Where: Le Moulin Noir
What: Victoire has heard of the Resistance at Fancy's place and is more than willing to join.
When: July 7, late.

As Victoire moved through the underground passage toward Le Moulin Noir, her thoughts were not on which turn to take and which ones led the wrong way -- she knew this path practically by heart, her feet seeming to move of their own accord as if they recognized a familiar trail. Instead, the redhead's mind was swirling furiously with what she had been told today. A Resistance, someone had whispered to her during her cigarette break. The words had been ringing in her ears since. Along with them came the images of Yuri, somewhere she didn't know or dead. Her husband, the handsome bespectacled Russian who had loved her piano playing and his wife. Part of Victoire wanted to believe that Yuri had escaped the Nazis who had taken him away and that he was hiding in Le Moulin Noir, the genius behind the Resistance Movement. She could almost see him sitting at a table near the back of the club, his face clouded by cigarette smoke, waiting for the day that Victoire would turn up. Because he knows that she would.

The ramifications of getting caught were huge. But that didn't bother little V. No, she was more than willing to lay her life on the line to do something to fight for her missing or dead husband and for those men and women who were in similar situations. Her father was a soldier and so was she. Victoire didn't mind getting her hands dirty and she wasn't afraid of hard work. This Movement was something that she had been waiting for since the beginning of the German occupation. She knew Paris and its people and was convinced they would rise up together. She just didn't realize it would take this long.

Victoire was shaken from her thoughts as she finally reached the door of the club and gave the password. The man at the door recognized her, of course, but you always had to give the password. Once inside, she gave him a small smile before directing her gaze toward the back of the room. It was almost as if she couldn't help it -- she knew Yuri wouldn't be there, but she had to check. "Don't be an idiot," she thought as she moved toward the bar.

"Bonne nuit." She gave the bartender a grin before lighting up a cigarette. "Two things, mon cher -- a dry martini, and I was wondering about some cedar.." Victoire let her words trail off, knowing that this was the key word for getting information about the Resistance. The bartender gave a quick nod and mixed Victoire her drink.

"You'll want to talk to that one over there," the bartender growled lowly as he set the drink on the bar. Victoire turned her head to make sure she knew where she was being directed before thanking the bartender and placing her money next to her drink. She picked up the glass and took a few sips before walking toward a small table near the corner.