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[formidable]

Private AU/PSL RP, set anywhere from 1879 alternate history France to 21st century North America. A tale of two brothers and the witch and her golem who gets entangled in their lives. Urban fantasy, steampunk, magic, guns, and coffee collide. ➤ PART I ➢ "La Caravane".

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[infusion]

[She follows him inside, hands behind her back.]

Whatever, Dream Boy. Given the chance, I'm sure I could handle you.

[pragnanz]

[ Dream Boy is, thankfully, down out and out in a few minutes' time: a combination of sleeplessness for the span of several days and the culmination of his excitement has his knocked out the moment he hits his mattress, and he doesn't get up at the designated time the next day...

...nor does he wake up when he's called...

...nor at the smell of breakfast...

...nor at the very passive-aggressive threat Claude dishes his to remind him, gently, that they've a time period to go back to. The bed is just that comfortable.

So, Iona will find Claude the next morning with 1 (one) sleepy fuzzball slung over his shoulder, already changed into his customary suit-and-vest combo. ]

Good morning. [ he says, completely placidly... ] Had a good night's rest, did you?

[infusion]

Huh.

[Iona's just helping herself to a tall glass of a green smoothie that Oren just prepared for her (he's washing dishes as they speak.]

You got more arm strength than I thought.

[Says the woman with monster arm strength]

[pragnanz]

It's a cumulative strength, from years of hauling cadavers.

[ Claude?! How morbid... it's like he strives to be the most unlikeable person in the world.

(He does.) ]

[infusion]

Well, looks like you deal with a guy who's constantly on track to being one.

Is there anyway to wake him up or are you gonna have to drag him back like that?

[Iona stands up to walk over to the brothers, hands on her hips as she examines Gus.]

[pragnanz]

Once Auguste falls into one of his comas, he's as stubborn as a bear in hibernation.

[ He bumps his shoulder upwards to emphasize the point. Gus flops on his back like a limp noodle. ]

I'm sure the smell of Paris will wake him up.

[infusion]

[She sighs and pats Gus's head.]

Poor guy. I doubt he got enough sleep in Paris so this might've been the most restful he's been for a while.

[pragnanz]

[ A light laugh. ]

Did you want to keep him?

[infusion]

[She raises a brow at Claude.]

What and fight off half of Paris??

[It'd be too selfish of her anyways...]

[pragnanz]

Couldn't you? You're the witch, after all.

[ Possibly a thing he shouldn't be saying to said witch...smh. ]

[infusion]

I serve coffee and cake. I don't start fights.

[A beat.]

I mean, I'll finish them if people start it, but you know what I mean.

[pragnanz]

You've tried to start fights with me many, many times.

[ Joking, joking. But he says it as mildly as always, hefting Gus so that he falls a little less heavily on his shoulders.

The blob stirs, tries to headbutt Claude's chin with his head. ]

[infusion]

... Yeah, I'm coming with you two. [Oren... continues washing dishes at that, but he's miffed.]

You can't go dragging that guy around without getting noticed. I can help you both using invisibility.

[pragnanz]

I'd be obliged. Someone might mistake me for having killed him, and that would be a mess to clean.

[ Stated simply, dispassionately. As if people would suspect him of killing his own half-brother, which actually isn't too absurd, all things considered. ]

Is Oren going to be unhappy with you?

[infusion]

The right question to ask, is if whether Oren's happy with anything.

[She's shooting a look at her partner.]

I just want to make sure the both of you return safely. There's nothing wrong with that.

[pragnanz]

I'm sure he thinks that we've made it alive this far, and that we've no need for escorts. It's true to some extent, don't give him too much grief for being so practical.

[ He actually respects that opinion, but it doesn't stop him from being flippant about it. ]

[infusion]

Nnn.

[Now Iona looks miffed as if wanting to argue a little more, but knows that it's pointless.]

Well... I'll be ready in 20 minutes. Oren can wait with you in the cafe until then.

[pragnanz]

Waiting it is. Come on, Auguste.

[ A muffled "1 more hour", and Claude turns on his heels to head for the door...

...and seems to realize that it's not going to take him to the cafe, mostly because he's not magic.

Stupid magic. ]

[oren]

[Well, let this golem wife help out with that. With the last of the dishes completed, Oren walks over and turns the knob where the cafe greets them with bright lights.]

After you.

[pragnanz]

[ A raised brow and a quick 'merci' later, Claude steps out of the door and...

...into the cafe, this will likely never not be weird to him. ]

If only traveling were always so convenient. I'd never have to go outside.

[oren]

Outside necessary.

[Oren it was a joke...]

This kind of magic rare. Old. Very few can replicate.

[pragnanz]

I imagine it's your magic, then? Judging by your age.

[ Or, wait... ]

...Or your Master's?

[oren]

Been here long before me or her. Berna found it. Built upon it.

[Oren rearranges a few chairs and tables so that they're in a more aesthetic position.]

Then gave it to Iona. She built upon it more.

[pragnanz]

And made it a home to be a part of.

[ He says so flatly, as he rolls Gus onto a comfortable-looking armchair in the corner of the room. ]

I apologize if Auguste trampled into her heart a bit more wildly than you would've liked.

[oren]

No one else for him? In Paris? Or too difficult to pair up?