[Paris] when I see you again [Mishka]

Did she really want to do this? Did she really want to risk running into people she knew? Did she really want to risk the emotional turmoil? Was this what she really wanted? To be perfectly honest, Julietta Ouellet didn’t really know. Sure, she wanted to go back, see how it had changed, but she didn’t want to get upset or seen by one of her childhood friends - or her family. The nostalgia would be… overwhelming, and if she saw the shop… she wasn't sure she'd be able to cope, and to the usually-composed 19 year old, breaking down crying in the middle of a busy city would be one of the worst things ever. But it was time to make a decision, and make a decision she did, taking a deep breath and disappearing from sight.



With a resounding CRACK, Juliet appeared suddenly in the crowded street in the centre of Paris. Spending a moment adjusting to her new surroundings, she let the delicious smell of baking bread wash over her and listened to the hustle and bustle of the city, the familiar smells and sounds comforting her. Ah, Paris. As much as she'd denied it, as much as she'd told herself she was better off now, she couldn't help but miss her hometown. Paris was a part of her life, her history, and she couldn't just let it go. Couldn't just deny her relation to it. The city was her childhood home, her childhood world. While she’d loved travelling the world and seeing all the new places, she’d missed France.

It was good to be home.

Stepping smartly out of the way of a tired-looking woman with a pushchair and a toddler running along beside her, the 19 year old began to wander through the streets, the nostalgia washing over her like a wave as she recognised all the iconic locations from her childhood. Not much had changed, although a fresh lick of paint here and a polish there made it seem so refreshed and so much like it was when she was 6 and all the shops were new and fresh. There was the bakery she always stood and stared through the window at, admiring the cakes; the bookshop she would spend hours at a time in if she was allowed, even though she rarely was; the park she played in with her muggle friends as a toddler when she was let off her lessons with her mum for a hour or so. The memories of these places were so, so happy that she wanted to return immediately to Alioth and organise leaving the circus, and return home. For a moment, the idea was pure bliss to the Beauxbâtons graduate. She would leave the circus, pack her bags and apparate quickly back to Paris. Then she'd return to the shop and as soon as she burst happily through the door, her dad would envelop her in a warm hug while her mum stood watching. Then she'd turn to Kira and apologise, and Kira would apologise back. She would promise that Julietta would never have to learn Russian again, and they would hug tearfully before closing the shop and all going up to Jules' room, catching up while Julie unpacked. But then she turned a corner and a shop she really didn’t want to see, despite her fantasies, came into view. A shop which held happy memories, sad memories, and painful memories. A shop which held most of her childhood. Ouellet Clocks. As she'd been walking the Parisian had known where she was walking to, and the impending sense of doom had been growing larger and larger, but now she was actually on the street it was suffocating. The brown paint was peeling off the ancient walls, the old clock’s ticking on the other side of the dusty glass window. The worn wooden sign above the door swung silently in the gentle breeze, the cracked pane in the top left corner of the large front window reflected the sunlight onto the brass doorknob, attached firmly to the warped wooden door. Not wanting to, but unable to stop herself, Julietta walked in a trance-like state towards the shop. Muggles walked past, oblivious to the hundreds of clocks hung in the window of the ramshackle shop. Standing there, so close to her childhood home, Julietta wanted to cry. Julie wasn’t usually that emotional, but today was different. Usually she was so calm and composed, but a woman gave her a pitying look as she walked past and the circus worker realised how sad she must look. Craning her neck, she gazed up at the window of her old bedroom. She used to spend hours sitting by that window with a book, reading and watching the people on the street below her. She'd watched years go by from that window, watch the rain and the snow fall on the street, watched the shops change around her as Ouellet Clocks remained the same, the sturdy, unchanging rock in the centre of it all. She’d watched as the bakery had opened across the road, and then watched as the bright red paint began to fade and peel away. She'd watched as the owner of the trinket shop opposite had passed away, and his son had revolutionised the business. She'd watched as the road had been re-paved, and then as potholes had grown once more. It made her feel so old, thinking back and remembering the good old days. Or, not so good. They can't have been that good, not if he was standing here, having stormed out seven months ago and not returned.

Crossing the street, Jules kept her head down, staring at the pavement as she approached the window. Wearing a pair of black trousers and a beige top under a brown coat, she was fairly inconspicuous, but the girl didn't want to be recognised. She sniffed loudly, sounding as though she had a cold despite the heat, trying to stop herself from crying in public. The 19 year old peered casually through the mucky window, acting as though she was inspecting a clock when really it was a person she was looking at. Beyond the clocks and timepieces on display she could make out her dad, Tristan Ouellet, working away behind the counter. The urge to walk in was so strong, it was so tempting, and Julie made her second stupid decision of the day as she pulled up her coat collar and pushed open the creaky door.

A bell rang as she stepped onto the threshold, but the Parisian's dad didn't notice the tinny sound that emitted from the small metal bell above the door. The emotional girl smiled slightly as she watched her dad work away at the clock he was building at the counter, oblivious to the 'customer' in the shop. Taking a deep breath of the musty air, Juliet crossed the uneven wooden floor to the higeldy-pickled shelves on the right hand side of the shop and picked up an ornate brass pocket watch.

Finally sensing her presence, Tristan Ouellet looked up and pushed his thin wire spectacles up his snub nose. His mousy brown hair sticking up in all directions like a mad scientists, he caught sight of the timepiece she was holding, and he hurried out from behind the counter towards her. Jules gave a sharp intake of breath, realising where he was headed, and looked down at the floor, hoping and praying he wouldn't look at her face.

"Hello there, I couldn't help but notice which watch you'd picked up, and I thought you might like to know the history of this one?" Tristan said quietly, and Julie gave a small nod, desperately holding in her tears in at the sound of her dad's voice. She'd grown since she'd left and she now stood slightly taller than him. Oh, he'd be so happy to see his daughter all grown up. The circus worker wanted to grab his shoulders and hug him, but she exercised some restraint and let him babble on about the bronze pocket watch, not listening to his words but absorbing the sound of his voice. Her discomfort at returning was irrelevant as she relaxed, letting it wash over her until...

Kira. As soon as she heard the clip-clip of high heels and her mother’s voice calling her father’s name, Julietta pushed the pocket watch into her father's hand and made for the exit as fast as she could. Confused, Tristan looked up for her, and their eyes met for a split second before she hurried out into the sunshine. But the split second of eyes contact was all she needed, like father like daughter, and Tristan's eyes spoke his emotions for him. Breaking into a run, Julietta sprinted down the street, weaving around people and dodging hyper children. She ran until she was a few blocks away, then she came to a hesitant stop outside a weird shop selling all sorts of bric-a-brac and trinkets. Almost weeping now, and her tears attracting unwanted attention, the emotional girl darted quickly inside.

The bell jingled loudly, but before the shopkeeper could see her the circus worker dived behind a shelf and stood where no-one could see her. Her emotions were in turmoil and a tears dripped slowly down her cheeks. She wiped the trail them away with the back of her hand and closed her eyes, willing herself to stop crying before she embarrassed herself. Oh why had she gone in? She was stupid, stupid stupid stupid. She’d made herself cry, and had probably broke her poor dad’s heart, after their fleeting eye contact, seven months since she’d last seen him. She'd left the nest now, and no matter how much the Bellefeuille alumna wanted to speak to her loving, bumbling father once more, she knew she’d break down if she even uttered a word to him, and she’d be forced into returning home by her controlling mum.

Hearing the creak of a floorboard from around the corner, Julietta snatched up a random trinket off the shelf, which was leaning dangerously towards her. She began to inspect the china dog in her hand with disinterest, and sniffed loudly to stop her nose running. She used her spare hand to wipe the tears from her face then push her wand further down into the cavernous pockets of her coat, ensuring it wasn’t peeking out. She was in a muggle shop, and if a muggle walked around the corner to see an adult crying her eyes out with a stick poking out her pocket, then they might think she was a bit mad. Her eyes stared unseeing at the dog, tears blurring her vision once more.

Brown eyes focused as she adjusted the suckers in the ponytails on either side of her head. She had been in the bathroom for hours and she was sure Grims was not at all entertained by the wait. She had to admit she missed it. The freedom and long hot bubble baths. Robbing those banks had been fun. Hell, thinking of them now still amused the woman. She'd been bored and lonely and so she had been reckless in turn. In her recklessness she lost a bit of herself. Ever since she had been freed something weighed heavy on her heart. A feeling she couldn't shake. A feeling she didn't understand.

Wedged heels lowered her small frame back down as she found her pigtail and sucker placement was now perfect. Her thigh high stocking were held in place by the garter she wore, which was barely hidden by the burgundy and beige plaid mini skirt she'd picked out. Her look was topped off by the burgundy halter, giving clear view to her stomach. Blonde hair swayed as her head tilted to the side while she gaze at her reflection in the mirror. Something was missing. Spinning; she moved from the room in one silently fluid motion to find her bag. She didn't have to look long as it rested right where she left it.

"Bye Grims." She didn't wait for an answer as she vanished with a loud crack!, reappearing in a dark Parisian alleyway. Her eyes scanned the busy street in front of her for a moment, watching as life moved on around her. Mishka wanted to know what it would feel like to have purpose. To know that at the end of each day she had done something productive. She wondered what it would feel like to be happy. To be apart of something that her feeling like being her was wonderfully acceptable. Slowly, she stepped from the alley and fell into the flow of the moving traffic. Reaching into her bag she took a moment, while she gazed into a random window, to pull as sucker from her bag.

Her body paused as she watched a girl who seemed to be crying through the window. Mishka had thought she was suffering, but this girl clearly was having troubles. This girl displayed the confusing feelings that Mishka was shifting through perfectly. It was strange for the girl to see someone in pain and not think to grain from it. This girl needed someone to talk to. She wasted no time walking inside ignoring the expectant look from the shopkeeper as she made her way down the aisle. As she rounded the corner Mishka simply stared at the upset woman before her. She wanted to reach out and comfort her but honestly she didn't know how. She wanted to grab the right words but she didn't know those either.

She moved to walk towards the girl, as she placed the now unwrapped sucker she had in her hand finally into her mouth. Her gaze dropped and she pulled a packaged personal tissue from her bag along with a sucker for the other girl. "Here you go." Brown eyes shifted to the shelf so she wasn't staring directly at the other woman. "I'm having a bad day too. Candy always makes me feel better?" It was true. Candy was her world, it seemed to give her the clarity to solve any problem. "I have to say...this store does not help a bad mood." She turned lifting a hand to twirl the candy in her mouth as her other hand was held out. "Mishka. I vote we try to turn bad days into good ones. We only live once, right?"

Sniffing loudly, Jules turned the china dog over in her hand, staring intently at it as she attempted to ignore - and avoid - the other woman who was on the same aisle as her. Oh, why couldn't she go somewhere else? Why couldn't she see that Julietta was upset, and wanted to be left alone? It was a surprise to the 19 year old when the other customer held out a tissue and, of all things, a lollipop. What? Her brown eyes rose to study the other woman's face, and luckily she was looking at something on the shelf so they didn't make eye contact.

"Thanks?" She mumbled uncertainly, putting the china dog back down on the shelf and taking the tissue and the lolly. She wasn't sure what to do with them, she had been warned never to accept food from strangers. But the tissue looked okay, so she wiped her nose on it, taking care not to breath in just in case it had some sort of potion on it. The witch had heard that muggles had all sorts of mystery potions they could put on tissues and rags to make someone black out when they wanted to kidnap them. It did cross her mind that if she was wiping her nose on it and it had a potion on it then she'd still fall unconscious, but this was only when she was wiping her nose so it was a bit too late. The usually level headed girl wasn't thinking straight because her emotions were in turmoil, but she managed to compose herself enough to watch the woman as she spoke, giving a weak laugh at 'this store does not help a bad mood'. It was weird how one little joke could cheer you up so much, but it did. Giving another small sniffle she tucked the lollipop away in her cavernous pocket along with her wand, planning to dispose of it at a later point. The circus worker hesitantly shook Mishka's hand as she held it out, wondering why the woman was being so nice. Did they know each other - had they met in the past? She presumed not, otherwise Mishka wouldn't be introducing herself. Maybe Mishka worked here, and was trying to promote business? The Parisian didn't know, but she was curious. People-watching was a favourite pastime of hers, and she thought she was pretty good at it. But she couldn’t tell what this woman did for a living, what she was like, northing. It was irritating.

"Julietta..." She uncertainly introduced herself, studying the other woman. She was quite odd, to be honest, two ponytails with lollipops stuck in them on her head. A small part of her mind wondered if Mishka was off her rocker, but Jules didn't say anything. Instead she just nodded at the woman's next words, although she was slightly confused. Was this woman even a witch? After all, they were in a muggle shop so she could well be muggle. And did Mishka want her to follow her somewhere? That sounded a bit dodgy. Her brown eyes studied the other woman for any clue about what was happening.

"You're welcome." Mishka reached out to pick up a glass unicorn from the shelf. The small piece was turn in her hand as she looked it over properly. "I saw you through the window..." Here she gave a shrug as she reached out to pick up a small glass turtle. "I just know when I have a bad day, not being alone makes it a bit better." She turned to the look at the other woman as she gave her name giving her a smile. "It's nice to meet you, Julietta. Sorry you are having a bad day." She turned back to the shelf letting her eyes wash over all the random things there. "Bad days sucks."

She knew bad days, hell she had years of bad days. She tried not to think back on her past but it seemed that her past was all she had to hang on to at the moment. She was always confused and now it was becoming this overwhelming feeling. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be doing. Mishka had always been distracted by something prettier or nicer. Always finding ways to avoid seeking something out to the end. At least when it came to people she did. She had yet to find someone who could hold her attention for years aside for Grisha. He knew her the best and always had her best interest at heart. "Sorry if my coming over is um....rude?" Was it rude to check on another person? She wasn't sure anymore.

She looked down as the two glass pieces were dropped in the bag hanging from her wrist. Slowly, she stepped around Julietta to look on the shelves on the other side of her body. "...but I just did what I hope a person would do for me.." She rose up on her toes to see better, touching a few small toys. "What do you usually do to get into a better mood?" Mishka wouldn't offer her own ideas, as they would likely end up locked away.

Julietta agreed wholeheartedly, bad days did suck. She'd had quite a few when she'd first run away from home, but they'd settled down after a couple of months. She'd adjusted to the lifestyle of the circus, and accepted the fact she wouldn't see her parents everyday or at least be able to write to them. In fact, she could probably still write to them... but her mum might reply and demand she returned home, or put a tracking spell on Julien and use him to track her down. The Parisian didn't know what lengths her mum would go to to get her back. Maybe she didn't want her back... the thought had never crossed the 19 year old's mind, but not it did she couldn't shake it out. Maybe she was happy that Jules had left? Maybe she was pleased to get rid of her? The circus worker didn't know which idea disheartened her more: her mum using Julien to track her down and drag her home, or her mum not caring that she was gone.

"Oh, no, it's fine." She answered to the other woman's question about being rude. It wasn't fine, actually, it was quite annoying, but she couldn't exactly say that. It would be rude. And anyway, Mishka had been nice. She'd given her a tissue and a lollipop, and made her laugh. She felt a whole lot better already, and she watched carefully as Mishka inspected a glass unicorn. It was pretty useless really, it hadn't been enchanted to move or anything. The Halfblood honestly didn't now how muggles didn't get so bored with life not with no magic to keep them entertained. She also didn't now how this place managed to stay in business.

Studying Mishka's face again, Julie did her best to figure out what this woman did for a living. Mishka didn't sound a French name, it sounded slightly... Russian? No, Bulgarian. So the woman wasn't originally from France, and she didn't live in France either, judging from the fact she was speaking in Russian to the circus worker. So, she was Bulgarian and spoke Russian... hmm. Her posture nor personality indicated at anything except her job apart from a raving loony. Her clothes however... the woman's skirt was short, and her top showed plenty of stomach and cleavage. It was an odd contrast with her little girl style pigtails and lollipops. Julietta found herself well and truly confused about this woman.

But then she saw something that filled her with rage - Mishka was stealing. She was subtly dropping trinkets off the shelves into a small bag around her wrist, and front the sneaky way she was doing it, the Parisian was certain she had no intentions to pay for it. She stared, aghast, at the woman's hands and bag as she walked around her, then looked up at her face, which was as inconspicuous and guileless as could be.

"Stop." She ordered, her voice full of authority. If there was one thing Julietta detested, it was dishonesty. How dare the woman try to steal something, especially right under the nose of another customer in the shop. Was she having some sort of a laugh? Trying to impress her mates by stealing something right under the upset girls nose? Glancing around, Jules couldn't see anyone, but that didn't mean they weren't there. She could almost hear them sniggering at how stupid she was. She began to see red and flew off the handle, into a blind rage that consumed her.

"How dare you?!? How dare you steal, right from underneath my nose! What is this, some sort of sick prank? Trying to impress your mates are you? Think it's funny, do you? Well, you know what, you can have your stupid lollipop back!" She shouted, pulling out the sweet from her pocket and throwing at the woman. She also pulled out her wand and pointed it at Mishka, her hand trembling with anger. She didn't even care that she could be breaching the statute of secrecy, she was that mad. She didn't care that this woman could be a muggle, or that she could get arrested for this. She didn't care how much trouble she would be in if anyone saw her, or if she actually cast a spell. She just. Didn't. Care.

"I thought you were nice." She said, her voice breaking. Why was she crying again? This woman didn't care about how happy or sad she was, it was all just an elaborate prank. The woman didn't care. Sure, she may have cheered her up, but it was all for a laugh. It was all just a bloomin' prank. It wasn't real kindess or compassion, no matter how genuine it had seemed at first.

"Now put. The thing. Back." She ordered, staring the Bulgarian down with a gaze of stone.

There was nothing in the store of true value, nothing that made her heart sing, but there were small trinkets she thought might look nice on her window. Her gaze shifted as her hand reached out to grab another glass piece before her body froze. It had been the tone and not the words that had caught the former prisoner up short. Brown eyes shifted to the woman next to her and instantly Mishka shrunk into herself. She may have been a bit crazy, had a hard time understanding feelings, but if she was anything it was someone who valued the approval of others.

Her brows came together as she was accused of stealing, though she may have been to Mishka it was a foreign term. There was no right and wrong only the fun and the boring. She didn't take because she had too or even wanted to for that matter. It was a simple thing really, she saw it, she liked it, it was hers. If she had thought about it, she had never paid for much in her life. She had always taken what she needed and never had it been from a person who needed it more than her. Her brows came together as the sucker was thrown back at her and for the first time in years she remembered what it felt like to be sad. "I...sorry...?"

Her gaze dropped as she bent to pick up the discarded candy from the floor, staring at it intently for a moment. As her gaze rose she was met with the tip of Julietta's wand. "You shouldn't do that.." She reached out with her empty hand to rest two fingers on the elegantly crafted piece of wood. Here her voice dropped down to a whisper. "They lock you away...." Her eyes grew bigger, the fear well displayed as she thought back to her cell. "They lock you away and leave you to the darkness.." Her voice grew soft, somber from the onslaught of memories. It was the worse alone in the darkness. Even now the shadows held a certain power over her.

She wanted to reach out as it seemed that the other woman was upset because of her actions. Her heart felt heavy in her chest and she wondered what she could possibly do to make things right. Like a small child she shied away, tossed back into her childhood from a simple gaze. Her hand dropped from the wand to reach into her bag to place both pieces back on the shelf. "I just thought they were pretty..." Her bottom lip quivered and she could feel the heat in her cheeks as her own set of tears threatened to spill over.

"I am nice! You're mean!" The sucker fell from her hand with a soft thud before she took a few steps back. "I wasn't stealing." She never stole. She never did things that were wrong, but then again she didn't know what wrong was. Her back turned as she moved to walk over to another set of shelves, eyes locked on her feet. This was a bad day and it seemed to be getting worse. "Stupid Mishka. Stupidstupidstupid."

Julietta could feel the rage coursing through her veins, like hellfire. She was mad, very mad. Nothing made her more angry than stealing, except maybe her mum. But her mum had stolen - she'd tried to steal the Beauxbatons graduates life away. Nothing made her more mad than stealing.

Her hand shook as she pointed her wand at the woman in front of her, her vision red. She didn't even know whether or not this thief was a muggle or a witch. She only hoped that if she was a muggle, then she might assume the French woman was a bit mad and loopy and that's why she was pointing a stick at her. After all, it did just look like a stick with some carvings on it. Even in her current angry mood, Jules wasn't stupid enough to cast a spell. This woman could be a witch for all she knew, but there were lots of muggles in the shop and street beyond that would see her casting the spell, and then she’d probably land herself in Azkaban.

Mishka stuttered out and apology, but Jules was not relenting that easily. Apologies didn't solve everything. If you murdered someone, sorry wasn't going to make it any better was it? Sure, it was a nice gesture for a little thing, like if you knocked something off a shelf or ate the last biscuit because you didn’t realise it belonged to someone else, but it had just become a way to stop people being angry with you. To show you were sorry, you had to not do the thing you were apologising for again.

Then Mishka began to whisper something about being locked up in the darkness and Julie lowered her wand, her fist still tight around it, confused. She didn't know what the older woman was on about, but she sounded scared. Very scared. The Parisian felt a flicker of sorrow for the Bulgarian, and her expression softened slightly. What was the woman on about? What could make her so scared? But the real question was whether this woman really that scared, or if it was all just part of an elaborate plan. Julietta let her arm hang by her side, but she was tense and ready to point the 10 inch oak object at the Bulgarian again if she attempted to steal anything else - or make a run for it. In all honesty, the circus worker was expecting the other woman to attempt and flee from the shop with her stolen belongings. What else was she going to do? Go and pay for them? Not likely, if she was stealing them in the first place. Put them back? Not likely either...

Oh, apparently not. It was a shock to the former Bellefeuille when the other woman began to put the trinkets she'd been planning on stealing back on the shelf. For a moment or two she just stared blankly at the little glass unicorn. Right. That was a shock. However, as the protests of the other woman fell on her ears, the clockmakers daughter realised what a mistake she had made. The woman wasn’t stealing them, she must’ve just putting them in her bag to make it easier to carry them around the shop! Oh, how stupid she had been. Glancing at Mishka, who was staring down at her feet, Juliet felt like the worst person on earth. How had she been so stupid as to jump to conclusions and accuse someone of stealing?! She knew better than that, but anger had clouded her vision and made her make the wrong decisions. She shouldn’t have let that anger control her! Honestly, she wanted to dig a hole and go and bury herself in it at that moment in time. She was a terrible excuse for a human being. Gently, the Frenchwoman picked the glass unicorn up off the rickety shelf and walked over to the other shelf, where Mishka was standing, and pressed the trinket into the woman’s hand.

“I apologise.” She said, her solemn brown eyes raising to meet the other woman's. “I didn’t realise you were going to pay for them. I just jumped to conclusions. I’ve… not had the best of days. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” She said seriously, her voice full of compassion and sorrow. The Parisian patted the Bulgarians shoulder awkwardly, not used to this whole ‘trying to comfort someone’ lark.

Her eyes closed as she took a few deep breaths. Mishka hated days like this one. The ones where things got a bit worse before starting to turn in the other direction. It was strange how much she had craved this freedom while locked away at Azkaban. Before the Dementors fled and the mass breakout she could say she had honestly felt nothing, it was better not too because the sadness was crushing. Though, the moment they were gone it was as if everything she had forgotten she could feel had shot to the surface. She had been lost in the haze of confusion and fear while consumed by the desire to be free and the overwhelming madness. It was all still so fresh in her mind. The world wasn't what it was before she had been locked away. Back then she had been young and reckless and the world seemed to bend to her will. She had done what she wanted and had never been challenged. Now there was someone there to always right the wrongs, even if the wrongs felt right.

Her eyes opened as she gazed down at the glass figure placed back in her hand. The Bulgarian was still as a statue as she simply stared at the unicorn. Slowly, her gaze rose as she was patted and she gave a confused look. "Pay for them?" Her head shook causing her hair to sway slowly. She never carried money because she had never had to handle anything important. Grims had been there to handle all transactions and he had been sure to keep her candy supply top notch. It had been that way before she had gone away and after she had finally found him after coming home. He was all the family she had and she was grateful that he cared enough to look after her. She could only imagine what she would be doing if he wasn't an influence in her life.

Her head tilted to the side a bit before she looked back down at the unicorn, partially recognizing what she had done wrong before. She had been scolded for not paying. Shifting, Mishka placed the figure on a shelf next to her with a thoughtful expression. "Grims keeps all the money." Her words came out like a song as her mood seemed to lift suddenly. Lifting her wrist she took a moment to pull herself another sucker from her pouch, opening it before plopping it in her mouth with a grin. "He says it's better that way..." And it was. It wasn't that she was bad with money it was that she never really used it for anything of importance. She would only buy candy and everything else would be forgotten. Mishka lived one moment at a time, simply seeking out the most enjoyable moments in life.

"I don't mind..." Her wrist came up again to show the purple pouch hanging there."...he gets me lots of candy.." And in a perfect world that would be all she would ever need. Her gaze shifted around the store for a moment before coming back to rest on the Parisian next to her, her brown eyes dropping to the wand that had been inches from her face moments ago. "You shouldn't keep that out you know...." She twirled on the tips of her heels in one effortlessly fluid motion to walk down another aisle. "I don't mind breaking the rules..." Here she whispered once more. "but it might make other people mad.." Her gaze shifted over her shoulder as if she was being watched. "Very...very mad."

"They don't like it when you break the rules..."

Julietta felt terrible. She had just pulled her wand out at someone and yelled at them for stealing, when really all they were doing was using a shopping bag. She'd been too quick to jump to conclusions, and now she had upset this random stranger. The Parisian was vexed with herself. She didn't know what to do, how could she make it up to Mishka? All of a sudden, the situation they had been in when Jules had first come into the shop was reversed. Instead of her crying and Mishka comforting her, it was Mishka crying and her comforting her. It seemed to be a very emotional day.

Making sure the glass unicorn was safely in the older womans hand and not going to fall and smash on the wooden floor, the former Bellefeuille took her hand away and gently patted the blonde's shoulder. Well, this was awkward. Mishka began to speak. Grims? Who was that? Her husband? Her brother? Her dad? Her boss? Either way, it didn't sound good. To the 19 year old it sounded as though this 'Grims' person was a very controlling individual who ruled Mishka's life and tricked her into  thinking that it was god by... giving her sweets? Belatedly Julie remembered the lollipop that the other woman had given her, and the fact that she'd had some tucked in her hair and more in her pockets and whatnot, and it made slightly more sense. But it still wasn't good: this woman didn't have her own free will to buy things that she wanted.

Then Miskha began speaking about people getting mad and pointing at the circus workers wand, and so she tucked it away hastily in her pocket and checked behind her to make sure there were no muggles nearby. The girl used the opportunity to take her hand off Mishka's shoulder as well and stuffed it in her pocket. She hadn't been sure what to say up until this point but now she had a question she wanted an answer to.

"Are... are you a witch?" The Parisian asked quietly, lowering her voice and leaning forward so even if there were any muggles in earshot they wouldn't be able to hear now. Suddenly a floorboard creaked behind her and she stood up straight, turning to the muggle who had appeared at the end of the aisle. It appeared to be the shop keeper, and old woman who shuffled slowly towards the par, her zimmer frame creaking dangerously.

"H-hello," the old woman wheezed. "Can I help you? I thought I hear shouting..."

"Oh no, we're fine." Jules flashed a smile at the woman. "My friend Katarina here just stood on my foot, and it hurt a bit. But we're all good now, thanks." She hated lying to the lady, but living as a witch in a world of muggles, it was hard not to lie every so often. The old woman looked at her searchingly for a moment and for a fleeting second Jules thought she might have heard what words had been said, but then she turned round and began to make her way back down the aisle. Slowly. Very slowly. While the shopkeepers back was turned the former Bellefeuille turned back to Mishka and put a finger to her lips, indicating not to speak until the woman was out of earshot. Once she muggle had disappeared from sight, Jules gestured to the glass unicorn.

"Here, why don't I buy you that? To say sorry." It wasn't a very good way of saying sorry, but it was all she could think of at that moment in time.

It was hard dealing with all the emotions that came with everyday life. It hurt to say but there was a time when she felt nothing and that made life seem easier. She was always so confused by the meanings of emotions and why they actually had to surface.It was even harder when those emotions surfaced around those who she didn't know well. Mishka had learned over the years how to blend in no matter the situation. She had away of trying to be who she thought other people wanted her to be but didn't realize that who she was happened to be great. She might have been a bit off her rocker but there was some things about her that made her a pretty good person.

Her gaze shifted as she considered what she had been asked. It would be so easy to lie, to pretend to be someone she wasn't. If she had learned anything from her time back in the real world it was that being herself for a while was a good thing. She needed foundation. She needed some structure and some rules to follow otherwise she would end up back in a cage. "I.." She paused as she watched the old woman come into view. Mishka simply stared at the woman for a long quiet moment before looking back at the unicorn.  "Sorry for the noise." She offered to solidify what had been said my her new acquaintance. The woman vaguely wondered why it was so hard to be herself.She knew some of her issues stemmed from her childhood but she worried about where the rest had come from.

Brown eyes considered the unicorn as if she was seeing it for the first time. So much had happened because of the small glass piece. "Yes.." She said with no clarification as to what she was agreeing to. Her hand reached up to pick the unicorn back but before she looked at Julietta. "I am a witch." Here her voice dropped so they wouldn't be overheard in case the shopkeeper was closer than they thought. "I am just coming home, so I have lost..." She paused trying to think of the word she wanted to use. "...manners...?" She had lost all social grace to be honest, though if needed she knew how to pretend as if she had some.

"Thank you for this.." Her hand rose to lift the unicorn up a bit so that Julietta would know what she was referring too. It was nice of her to buy the unicorn for Mishka. The girl had never really gotten many gifts, so this one would be cherished. "What a very weird and long day...I forgot how stressful days can be.." She had forgotten a lot of things.

It was a great relief to the Parisian to hear that Miska was a witch, and that she hadn't turned her wand on an unsuspecting muggle then asked if she was a witch. If she had been a muggle, Mishka would probably have run away from her by now, thinking she was crazy. She smiled warmly at the Bulgarian when she agreed to Jules buying the unicorn for her and nodded when the other witch voiced how she'd forgotten how stressful days could be. She knew what she meant - up until today, she had been carefree and hadn't worried about her parents since the first week of when she ran away, but the events of seeing her dad again had brought all her worry back. She just hoped her dad wasn't as heartbroken as she was, although from the expression in his eyes as she had left the clockshop, she had the feeling that he was.

"I know what you mean. Stressful days take a bit out of you, don't they? Here, let me take the unicorn and I'll go pay." She said, giving Mishka another smile and gently taking the glass ornament out of her hand. Personally, she couldn't see why the woman wanted the thing, but she didn't say anything for fear of upsetting her again. Holding the ornament gently so she didn't break it, but just tightly enough so that there was no chance of dropping it, the 19 year old walked round the shelves to the front desk, where the old woman who she had seen a moment ago had just returned to. She seemed to be breathing quite heavily and the circus worker hoped that she wasn't about to pass out from exhaustion.

"Hello. I, um, I'm sorry about the noise earlier. Please could I purchase this?" She asked, sliding the unicorn over the counter to where the woman sat on a chair, wheezing slightly. She didn't know how much the thing would cost but thankfully she had plenty of muggle money in her pocket, as she always did. The former Bellefeuille liked to be prepared for any encounters with muggles and so she always kept some in her pocket, along with the sickles and knuts which she had on her. The shopkeeper told her what the price was an held out her hand for the money, and despite the fact she thought the unicorn was vastly overprices for a piece of shaped glass, the circus worker reached into her pocket and handed the money over, receiving the unicorn back again in return. She thanked the old lady then turned and gave the unicorn to Mishka, smiling at her. She wished she could think of a better way to apologise to the Bulgarian, but she couldn't at that moment in time think of anything else but paying for the unicorn for her.

"Here you go. Shall we be off now?" The 19 year old asked, nodding her head in the direction of the door and taking a step in that direction to, hoping that Mishka would follow her. The older witch didn't seem to be in the right state of mind and so Julie didn't really want to leave her alone in the muggle shop. Perhaps she could take her back to the wizarding part of Paris and hope she would find someone she knew there?

Brown eyes filled with a curious wonder as she watched the other girl move towards the counter. Misha moved slowly forward, eyes flickering between the two women as she considered what was happening in front of her. It had been a long while since she had been able to watch two people interact with each other, though this interaction wasn't much to learn from. Her feet lifted her body up higher so that she could have a good look at the money changing hands. It had been too long since she had last seen muggle money. A slow smile crept to her face as she remembered her bank robberies with a fond kind of joy.

Her smile only widened as she was handed the unicorn. Carefully the woman turned the glass piece in her hand, looking it over again. She had missed how the simplest things could be beautiful. She had missed a lot more than she would ever be willing to admit aloud. If she was capable of understanding the feeling that was rising in her person she would know that it was a growing sadness. A sadness from all that she had been denied and all that she was unable to experience because of her own boredom. She didn't regret the choice she had made but she did hate having been locked away incapable to feel even if she wanted to. "This was very kind of you.." Her sing song voice sounded strange in her ears as the melody dropped from it and was replaced by a soft sadness.

Neatly arched brows pulled together for a moment before she shifted to follow Julietta from the shop. She may have wanted to feel while locked in her cage but now she wished to be void of the emotions that seemed to cloud her mind. Ashe stepped out into the fresh air her hand rose to pull a sucker from her hair to open and pop into her mouth. "I do hope that your day is better....you seemed..." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Upset before..." Something that was recently new to the Bulgarian, feeling upset. Felling confused and uncertain had joined the list as well. Her body shifted to lean back against the cool stone behind her and the young with sighed.

Her eyes closed as her head fell back against the wall, allowing the breeze to wash over her exposed skin. "I missed this..."