C'est La Vie

Who: OPEN
What: A drink perhaps? Or something else...?
Where: The Black Death Tavern
When: Current, evening

Fancy stood behind the bar, pouring drinks. Now and then she helped herself to one. The liquor burned it's way down her throat in the pleasantly familiar way. She looked around the bar at it's occupants. She was looking for a costumer. She had an itch, and she could always use the money and change of something to do. She liked to keep her girls in luxury as much as possible during these troubled times. She also kept up with a few charitable endeavors as much as she could. 

The place was bustling, but it was still a quiet night by Fancy's standards. No one had started a fight, and most of her girls where still downstairs. This made tending drinks easier, and Fancy had been behind the bar most of the night. She watched attentively, hopefully, as more people continued to arrive.

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: Marie & Open
Where: The Bakery
When: Late morning after Fancy takes in Charlie
Status: Completed

Fancy was relieved to see the OPEN sign in the bakery window. She needed to talk to Marie and didn't know how else to reach her but here. She had considered just buying the man some new clothes. But with a good number of German officers knowing who she was and what she did if she was seen buying men's clothing it would no doubt be considered suspect behavior. And the Allied pilot,she was hiding needed her to be more cautious then that. Marie's husband had died, it was possible she still had some of his things even after five years. And if Fancy could make up a convincing enough story she might just be able to procure them. Marie didn't know where she lived and would have to make an effort to track her down. She had more anonymity here, she thought. And Marie seemed like such a kind woman. Worth taking a chance on.

Who: Fancy, OPEN
What: Anything
Where: Church (Evening Mass)
When: April 13
Incomplete

The smell of the incense burned her nose. She thought about the stories she'd heard. About the boys who'd been in the last war, their lungs burned from the inside, condemned to cough them up in chunks as they waited for a choking death that wouldn't come quick enough . She also had heard that they were gassing the jews. They may have already gassed <i>her</i>. She shivered then, not so much as from the cool april air that wafted in through the opening and closing of the heavy church as from the memories in her mind. A smile, a touch, things powerful and yet fragile. Here in an instant and gone in a flash. Life was so short and too long all at the same time. 

She glanced around at the people who filled the pews. <i>I should have done something. I could have done something. Tried.</i> But she hadn't wanted to get involved. Just wanted to be left to her own devices. Good God was she ever paying for that now. What had France been thinking? Letting these monsters in? They looked so at home here, were already settling in. How long would it be before they decided to 'morally cleanse' Paris? Would her occupation suddenly cause her to be an undesirable citizen. At least her Parisian neighbors only glared and slurred her behind her back. But the Nazi's, regardless of the fact they were guilty of using her services the Nazi's could turn on her at any moment. And they wouldn't use words and looks to get their points across. The Nazi's signed all their contracts in blood. 

She wanted to do something. Fight back, make them pay, find answers to her questions; something, anything. But what? And how? She'd heard rumors that people were doing things, but it was all second hand information. She could get papers, information; drunken lusting soldiers slipped up, or passed out. Either was helpful. But what good was any of it if she didn't know what to do with it? 

She really didn't know why she kept coming to church. 

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.