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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]

Hm. Fancy that.

[And Iona and Oren leave it at that. Their connection with each other is a topic for another day.]

Alright, here's the plan. Oren will tail us, but from a good distance away. No one will see him either. I'll stick with you and Gus and we'll also go unnoticed. Simple enough, right?

[pragnanz]

Very. You'll only need to take us as far as his apartment: once we deposit him there, I'll do fine on my own.

[ Will he???? Truly??? Is Claude ever fine??? The big questions.

But he moves on over to Gus to shake him, shake him harder, and then give up. Carrying it is. ]

[infusion]

[She's about to say, "Whatever floats your boat, but I doubt it," but stops to watch him try and shake Gus awake.]

... Want me to carry him? It might be awkward with him being a giant, but I'll be able to hold up well enough.

[Iona... It'd be awkward for other reasons...]

[pragnanz]

Ah. Will you? I'm sure he'd be far happier waking up in the arms of a pretty girl than his family doctor.

[ Iona to the rescue... ]

1/2

[infusion]

Right, right, he'll have died and gone to heaven in my arms-...

[infusion]

Oh my god.

[She brings a hand up to her mouth and her brown eyes sparkle in mock confusion.]

You called me pretty...!!

[pragnanz]

Pardonne, my mistake.

[ Claude??? ]

"A beautiful woman".

[ Claude????????? ]

[infusion]

[She snaps her fingers and winks at Claude approvingly.]

Merci beaucoup! I'll take it!

[Iona...]

[pragnanz]

Remind me to write it down for you, so you can frame it and put it on the wall of the cafe.

[infusion]

Uh huh.

Well, let's quit dawdling about. Time to go back. First though...

[Iona claps her hands together and a glow of her magical energy appears in her palms. It floats upwards above Gus, Claude, and her and then it expands until the three of them are encased in a see-through bubble.]

There! We're invisible!

[pragnanz]

[ Ah. As always, all of this magic business is... incomprehensible, and it takes a bit of reality-suspension for Claude to fully believe that this bubble makes them... invisible.

He pokes at the barrier with one hand, and then

actually reaches inside one of his coat pockets for a scalpel. ]

...And you're sure this works?

[infusion]

... You keep a scalpel in your pocket?

[THE REAL QUESTION OF IMPORTANCE HERE]

[pragnanz]

Of course.


I'm a doctor.

[ REAL DOCTORS DON'T DO THIS?? ]

[infusion]

Well. Poke around if you want. I guess. Just don't expect it to pop.

[pragnanz]

[ Well, if she insists.

He runs the blade over the length of the bubble, which...unsurprisingly, does nothing. Huh. ]

I suppose things like this don't surprise you anymore.

[infusion]

Well, I still got room for being surprised. Unless you meant something different?

[pragnanz]

Hm.

No— it would be rude for me to ask if you've become desensitized to most things.

[infusion]

... Nah. That's not that bad of a question. It's easy enough to answer.

[Iona makes her way over to Gus, sitting him up first before attempting to pick him up.]

Things still hurt like hell.

[And with that, she easily picks up Gus in her arms (bridal style!!) without breaking a sweat.]

[pragnanz]

[ Ah, he sees this opening so he'll take it... ]

Don't flirt with a doctor that way, Miss Iona. It's dangerous.

[ HE'S STILL HOLDING THIS SCALPEL??? The Worst.

But aw... Gus is going to smile in his sleep like the huge oversized infant he is. ]

[infusion]

[CLAUDE.]

Don't talk about danger with the 5'4 lady holding a 6'0 man. Your mild sadism won't work on me.

Alright, you do the honors of opening the door now.

[pragnanz]

Mild. I suppose it would seem so, to someone who takes sadistic pleasure in assaulting her guests with paint.

[ letitgo.wav

But, alright alright. He strolls towards the door and swings it open for her, theatrically (but with infuriatingly perfect manners) sweeps an arm to indicate that she can go first. ]

For you, mademoiselle. Please, do watch your feet.

[infusion]

[considering the fact that iona does like being a brute during brawls he's probably not off...

Iona, with Gus in her arms, walks outside. The bubble around them ripples as they move forward into 1879 Paris..]

So where are we headed exactly? Like, is there a headquarters for your family? A main house??

[pragnanz]

[ The streets are the same as before, crowded with painters sitting on the sidewalks and people on their daily strolls: still, there's that mechanical edge to things, carts embossed with brass and copper, clocks ticking in strange places, strange corners.

Claude leads, genuinely impressed that yes, they really are invisible. ]

—There's his family mansion, yes. It would be ideal if we could deposit him there; the others are used to him coming and going.

[infusion]

Hm.

[She falls silent for a moment as she glances down at Gus. He had a strange degree of freedom for someone who held an important position in the city...

(A memory; a 12 year old Iona, pouting at her father who sternly asks her about the sleepover she's invited to. Adult supervision? How late will they be staying up? Will boys be there? Too much junk food is disagreeable to him. Her mother, washing dishes, and shaking her head, smiling at them both...)

-- Yes, they're quite invisible and it seems the bubble around them, unseen as it is, causes people to avoid walking straight into the group so any accidental collisions are nothing to worry about.]

Where do you live, Claude? Not by yourself, right?

[pragnanz]

[ It's a bi miraculous, this magic business. Claude adjusts to it slowly, stops trying to sidestep people when he notices that they do it on their own. Now if only he could do this all the time?!

A moment, to consider Iona's question. ]

Mm? Of course I live by myself. Why wouldn't I?