(montmartre) you better keep the wolf back from the door (gaspard)

Despite being only a small channel of water away, Paris seemed like a whole different word compared to London. The nick name of City of Lights was certainly apt. It seemed the city sparkled at night and it dazzled Julia. She had always loved the French city, ever since a young age. It was one of her favorite places to go on family vacation. The only reason the teenager hadn't chosen to run to Paris when she left home was because she figured it would be first place to look for her. Fluent in French and a lover of all things French, it was no secret to her father that she loved the country and the city. At times, Julia would wonder if her father had anyone go look for her--he wouldn't look himself, she assumed. However, when thoughts like that passed through she would quickly push them away. It was painful to think of her family wondering where she was and what happened to her, but it was more painful to think that maybe they just didn't wonder about her at all.

The German teen found herself in Paris today due to her boss, Leon's, business. The older man had, of course, left Julia unaware of his business. He revealed only what he needed of her--smuggling. They entered the city early in the morning and he had sent Julia with a small package to an older man who lived in an apartment in the 1st arrondissement. Thanks to her multiple visits to the city, she was able to quickly navigate her way to the destination. She used the metro and other similar transportation to reach the man both for wanting to not draw attention to herself and for the novelty of using muggle transportation. It took way too long and there wasn't a seat on the one metro, but she enjoyed watching the people--tourists, university students from both Paris and other countries, everyday Parisians. She watched with bright, attentive eyes at their interactions and she couldn't get over the normalcy of their lives, while she sat, her purse tight to her body, carrying what she knew was an illegal object or substance in her world. It was almost amusing that they had no idea that what she had was potentially dangerous. She loosely wondered if Leon had the same amusement, watching Julia treat each package he gave her as more dangerous than the last, even though she never knew what she was transporting.

After she had given the man his package and returned to Leon, he gifted her with the rest of the day to do as she please and some money to do with what she wanted. That money was quickly turned into alcohol at the nearest restaurant. She sat outside, enjoying the breezy, but sunny day, watching people move past her as she sipped on a white wine, before deciding to migrate to the nearby Montmartre to move closer to a younger crowd. In no time, she found herself in a bar, surrounded by people in their late teens to early 20s. As the bar filled, Julia found herself being flirted with by what would be an attractive Frenchman if it wasn't for the fact that he smelled like he had taken a bath in his cologne. As she had been attempting to enjoy her mixed drink, her nostrils were assaulted by the overwhelming scent of patchouli, citrus and sleazy. Leaving money on the table, the man tried to follow her out,  but Julia quickly moved through the crowd trying to dodge him. She was no sooner outside than she saw the man still close behind her. Julia rolled her eyes in annoyance. She wasn't nervous, but he was beginning to make her want to punch him.

Looking around, Julia spied a blonde man nearby who looked a lot less sketchy than the grease ball behind her. "Hey honey," Julia called out a little too loudly in French, nearing the man. Pushing her body into him, Julia moved against him like he had been expecting to see her. "I've been waiting for you, you're late, you know I hate waiting." Tossing a look behind her, Julia saw the earlier man walking away looking defeated. Moving away from the man, Julia looked at him, a wide smile on her face.

"Sorry about that...some guys can't take a hint you know?" She laughed breezily, before looking the man up and down quickly. Biting down on her lip, she figured this man might make better company than the man from before. "I'm Julia. I could buy you a drink as thanks for saving me."

Gaspard was in no mood to be bothered, but then again, the blonde was never really in the mood to be bothered. He just wasn’t big on the whole interacting with other people thing, especially if they weren’t elementals, or someone he knew well. He supposed when one got right down to it, he just didn’t really like other people, but that was fine with him. Most of the non-elemental people he got to know would die a long time before he would, and being that he was already a cynic, he figured the last thing he needed was more reason to be one.

His mood wasn’t improved by the fact that he was tired, either. He’d just finished up a long night DJing at one of his favorite clubs, and had had a full day taking the city by storm with parkour lessons before that. All he wanted was his own space, and a good morph to clear his head before he had to work with his students in the morning. He wore simple clothing tonight; a black zip-up hoodie with a shirt underneath, jeans, and high-top sneakers with his extra gear in a backpack. It wasn’t his most favorite thing to wear, but it made it much easier to fit in with the muggles, and to go unnoticed in general, not to mention it matched the attire most men his age were wearing. He was forty five but looked like he was in his twenties thanks to his elementalism, and it paid (both literally and figuratively) to play the part.

He was a sweet four blocks from his apartment in the city when he was oh so rudely interrupted. He peered out of his hood, which he’d thrown up as a silent deterrent to this kind of thing, and peered down at the small blonde girl who had pressed herself against him. He didn’t move to return her false affections, but didn’t dispel them either, noting the man who was watching them intently. When the other man had left, Gaspard leaned back on his heels as she spoke, watching her with disinterest “Some women, too it would seem..” He quipped at her first statement as he pulled his hood down. Had he not been so tired, the man would have made some effort to be nicer, but he was tired, and not all that nice to begin with, so he didn’t let his response trouble him “Yeah…and I’m not interested.” Then after another beat the Zealot added “and I doubt you’re even old enough to legally by me a drink..” If she was, he would be surprised.

Not interested? Julia's eyebrows raised in a moment of surprise. Sure, she had been turned down before by a few men, but even that was rare and they had never been quite so blunt. Her surprise turned to amusement and she let out a small chuckle. She was rare to back off so easily and took his obviously feigned disinterest as a challenge. In her few wild years, she found that even the most committed of men were unlikely to resist something so easy...unless their interest was focused on someone more masculine. Julia looked over the man once more and wondered if maybe he was just gay--that would explain his apparent disinterest.

"Oh, but I am," the 18 year old purred, stepping a little closer to the man. Despite the fact that she had been trying to avoid a man who couldn't get the hint just a moment ago, the blonde was terrible at taking a hint herself--at least for now. Although she was easy herself and she liked her men to need little convincing, Julia enjoyed playing the game of trying to show how good of a time she could be. Was it desperate? Probably, but Julia cared very little about how some man she would most likely never see again perceived her. A smirk played on her lips as she added, "I'm old enough to do a lot of things."

Stepping back from him, the blonde laughed softly and rolled her eyes and decided to try a new approach. "C'mon you can't be in that foul of a mood and I'm just trying to say thank you." Pulling her oversize leather jacket closer around her, she reached into her her pocket and pulled out a cigarette box. Pulling one out and lighting it, she stepped back another pace from the man and exhaled the smoke away from him. Extending her arm towards him, she offered him the open pack. "And, hey, if you're stressed, these help if you want one."

Looking around her as she put her pack back into her pocket, her eyes followed the crowds of people milling into different restaurants and bars as they laughed and talked with each other. "Listen, if you want to be boring and just go home, I get it. Not everyone can be fun, I guess."