I know, they are probably a little bit out of character but hey, I needed some Desmond teasing his younger brother ! Enjoy ^^
"What pseudonyme did you take this time, again ?
-It is Jean Descole, dear brother.
-You really like french names, do you not ?"
Their eyes met and they smiled, a smile as genuine as it was sincerely amused. All around them, dancers were dancing, people were talking, servants were working so this evening could be the most magnificent of all. After all, in a city as popular as London, during the Belle Époque, all had to be perfect, especially if you were a young and noble man and if you were trying to impress your public by showing them how wealthy you were.
Everywhere, all around the manor, there were so many beauty and charm that the atmosphere itself was like enchanted. The musicians were playing their music, Degas, Gramophone Waltz. Women looked as splendid as mythological ladies, dressed in blue, white, red, purple, all colors and styles, their hair carefully put in buns covered in pearls and feathers. French, English, German even Russian gentlemen were there, dancing or courting the ladies, speaking about politics or new cars wich were more and more present in each and every cities of occidental countries.
Among this wealthy crowd, looking at the ballroom and the people in it, were two gentlemen. It was a very common thing in a place like this, but our story would not have been the same if they were just some normal gentlemen.
They were special. By their look, firstly. The first one embodied exactly what an English gentleman looks like, with his high hat, a dark brown one on which a beautiful and shiny little rubis could be noticed to sophistically decorate the hat itself. He was dressed in the same shades of brown, only a small bow tie reminded red and his shirt took the colors of a sunrise, full of orange and some shades of light brown and dark red too, almost crimson. The heels of his shoes remained silent, their noise was covered by the music, but he had this stature and this assurance no one except a very perfect man would have had. His white-gloved hands hold a long and precious-wood-craft cane on the top of which was set a amber stone. His dark brown eyes and his polite smile had already made young ladies hearts melt, more than once.
The second one was not as wise looking as his colleague. He looked more like a dandy, less obedient, more wild styled. Dressed with a more fading tone of brown, almost beige, and shades of english violet, he was the kind of man women looks at while blushing and whispering behind their fans. A beige cloak thrown on his shoulder and no classy tuxedo for him, but a superb purple shirt, with no tie. He had no hat, unlike his comrade, but his hair was darker and tie on his neck with a curious ribbon, as red as his eyes, eyes which were resting behind ffine and discret glasses circled of silver, and decorated with a precious and shiny diamond. His own cane was also held by gloved hands but his gloves were black and his cane was thiner, hiding, like many others, a blade in it, but it didn't make it lose its style and own beauty.
They have been invited to this party by a certain Bill Hawkes, a new politician and aristocrat from London. He had inherited of an very rich uncle when the man died last year, and the new rich, frivolous man didn't restrain himself long before exhibiting his fortune. He was the kind of man someone could trust easily, be fooled by and becoming his servant, enslaved by promises and wrong choices. Behind this heritage also lied the blackmail of corrupted politics. Of course, nobody knew it but it was more money for him. And, with this money, one of his hobby was collecting works of arts. The second one was inviting important people to his parties.
So, tonight, this was both these hobbies that lead the two gentlemen in his residence.
"The countess Angela owns a wonderful river of diamonds", said the one with the purple shirt.
"Since when do we steal honnest women ?" replied the one with the hat.
"Come on ! She already likes me, I could easily take it~
-You really are annoying, dear brother... You never stop playing. I thought you preferred the Boticelli in the living room ?
-Oh, I do ! It talks less and does not have an insuferrable little dog... Well, as for you, you like his brooch, do you not Hershel ?
-Indeed, the ruby on it is splendide. Also, it's gold. A real work of art, Desmond."
The two of them smiled again before Desmond began to laugh.
"Oh, and forget about the Rembrandt in his room. Now, excuse me but I have a young lady to dance with~."
Hershel smiled, amused. His brother enjoyed really much his own amusement, more than their business.
"Then I will go and talk to our dear host. I would like you to take care of his painting while I take care of the brooch. After your dance of course."
Desmond looked pleased by this plan and nodded a bit. The following instant, he disappeared in the crowd. Hershel smiled and took a step to come closer to his target, Bill Hawkes.
He was blabbering with a charmant red-haired lady, whom the gentleman found beautiful. Then, he left her for a moment and smiled to the gentleman.
"It is a real pleasure to have you here tonight, sir," he said. "I hope you enjoy the party.
-Very much, indeed", he courteously replied. "You are a very distinguish person of London, after all.
-Thank you my friend, thank you", he answered with pride. "I may be rough right now, but I have not seen you dancing with anyone tonight, milord. Do you look for some company ? I know a perfect lady, an english woman, who would be glad to...
-I am afraid I have to decline your offer", the gentleman interrupted. "I am not looking for a feminine company. "
The two of them then began to talk about politics, like many others here, and then about business and art, and the gentleman was found to be an expert, even though he did not reveal his knowledge entirely to his new friend. And, as the conversation went this way, while Hawkes was sometimes looking at the others to introduce them to his new comrade, he didn't notice that his brooch was gone.
Finally, when it come to an end, the gentleman politely thanked his friend and took a step to go on the balcony, alone, but a hand was put on his shoulder.
"Pardon me, milord, but may I ask you for a dance ?"
Hershel looked at her, because it was a woman who just asked him to dance. She was the girl with whom Bill was talking to, a few minutes ago. And the gentleman though again that she was beautiful.
Firstly, she had put her fiery ginger hair on a bun, embellished with white pearls and a single white light feather. Her dark but tender eyes looked at him with honnesty, however hiding a playful or impish nature behind these long eyelashes. Her dress was green, but a dark shade of green, as an emerald veil decorated with other pearls and some lace work, as if she herself was a jewel.
Yes, she was beautiful, but the young gentleman had no time for some frivolous pleasure.
"I may seem to lack of manners but I am afraid I have to decline-
-I insist, sir", she smiled while taking his hand and bringing him among the other dancers.
The gentleman tried to excuse himself but she didn't let him go and soon, both of them were waltzing.
"Second Waltz, Shostakovitch", she whispered. "What a pleasant melody, don't you think ?
-Indeed, miss", he quickly answered. "But...
-What a nice brooch you have", she interrupted without her smile to vanish. "What a pity you should hide it in your pocket... this ruby circled of gold is a chef-d'œuvre."
Hershel could have been afraid of her telling the truth to the others but, when you are a gentleman, you have to act like so. He smiled lightly, a smile between amusement and curiosity.
"Then you better take good care of your ring, miss. Emeralds and sapphires are worth an interesting price."
But, instead of feeling intimidating nor scared of her fortune being taken from her, she laughed lightly and kept on dancing.
"Oh, I do not worry about my jewellery, I have observed you during the party. You are polite, well-manered and really preventive toward women, sir gentleman. May I ask your name ?
-Henry Ledor, dear madam.
-Do you not know that lying to a young lady is what gentlemen do not do ?"
The said gentleman hesitated for a minute, without stopping the dance. He was not supposed to tell his name, that could bring them troubles regarding their activities. He took a random name he saw on the list of guests but it did not fool her. After a moment of thinking, he smiled and did not completely answer.
"I presume you are Claire Foley, the daughter of Earl Foley ?"
Now, she was surprised. She would have stopped dancing if his partner wasn't following the tempo perfectly. He was really a very good dancer.
"I do not remember having introduced myself, though.
-I know your name from our dear host, the man you were talking to before I myself did. He is under your spell and beauty, milady.
-I can not say the same about how I perceive him", she sighted tiredly. "He has no manner, no politeness, because he is like playing a role... Ah, these politics !"
Hershel laughed, sincerely. Well, considering the fact that his own brother was acting so flirty with a lot of women, he could not really agree with her. You did not have to be a politician to act so roughly toward women. Miss Foley smiled again after a minute and let him lead the dance, as if she trusted him enough to lead her wherever he wanted.
After a moment, the music stopped. The gentleman bowed before the young ginger lady as she did as well. Then, she took a pocket watch and looked at the time, her impish smile painted on her face. It took Hershel a few seconds to recognise his own watch.
"How did you...?"
The lady smiled and looked at him in the eye.
"I did not know you could be so easily fooled by a simple woman like me, dear unknown."
The gentleman did not know what to think, how to think, to be precisely right. He didn't planned to be caught by the eye of a so charming lady who, he was certain of it, had him under her spell. She was beautiful, of course, only a blind man would have thought otherwise, but she had this light in her look, the light of cleverness and playfulness. She was so much more than what she looked like.
With a kind laugh, she gave him his pocket watch back. But the english man smiled again and took her hands in his to make her hold the watch.
"You are not a common person, milady, so take it, as a souvenir..."
She was surprised but looked at him while he leaned to her, before whispering to her ear.
"My name is Hershel Layton."
She jolts to the name and opened her mouth to talk but the lights just faded in the instant.
An anxious gasp of surprise waved through the ballroom and, after a few seconds, when the lights came back, her mysterious cavalier was gone.
"Thieves, they stole me !"
Bill Hawkes was almost hysterical, shutting all around him that he had been robbed, that they took him his wealth, yelling at his servants and butlers.
Curious, as many of the guests, Claire approached the man and she could see he had a paper in his hand.
"What happened, sir ?" she asked.
"They stole me ! These two sons of the devil, they stole me !
-But who are you talking about ?" insisted another woman.
He angrily gave her the paper and the lady read it loud.
"Dear Bill Hawkes, thank you a lot for the Boticelli and the brooch of yours, they are splendid. Also, we are sorry...."
"Sorry about what ?" asked the woman.
But Claire smiled, took the card and turned it before reading.
"... but the Rembrandt is a copy. Sincerely, H. L and D. S"
Most of the guests laughed because they found it amusing that thieves would sign their crime. But a woman, the countess Angela, screamed in surprise.
"My river of diamonds ! My necklace !"
Then another man realised he has lost his ring, another one had lost his watch, another his chevalière.
"They stole us ! Who ever dare ?!"
But, while everyone was bumbling and babbling about the unknown thieves, Claire fixed the paper. H. L ? Was it possible ?
Unconsciously, she strengthened her grip on the pocket watch.
Outside the manor, near a fiacre, Layton looked at the place with a fugitive smile. What a mess they caused !
"So," yawned Desmond inside the cab. "Will you come or not ? I am exhausted, I need a good cup of Darjeeling tea".
Hershel sighted at the impatience of his brother and went inside the fiacre before it began to move in the night, silently, through London.
But Desmond knew there was something in the mind of his younger brother, he was rarely that quiet and that happy at the same time.
"Did you meet someone at this party, dear brother ?" he smiled, impish. "Come on, I know that look, you found something or someone really interesting. Tell more to your older brother~
-Stop teasing me", he sighted. "She will probably not remember me...
-Oh ho ! "She" ? Who was she ?~
-Desmond...
-What ? You've never shown any interest in women before, I am curious ! So ?"
Understanding that he would never be in peace unless he talked to him, so Hershel consented to do it.
"It is Claire Foley..."
Well, a slap would not have shake him the way the name did.
"Wait... Earl Foley's daughter ? No way ! You fell for his daughter ! Ahaha !
-Desmond, stop it, it was just a dance !
-Hum hum," he nodded. "That's why you gave her your precious pocket watch and was leaned to her like this ? Do not think I did not see you both, waltzing on the dancefloor~ I am the one who switched off the light after all."
The gentleman could not help but blushing and looked away.
"Did I ever tease you about your flirty behaviour, Desmond ?
-At least, I could teach you how to properly flirt with her~
-Desmond !"
The older brother laughed a bit but Hershel could not really blame him. He would never dance with women, nor would he court them. But Claire Foley, she was not like other women, she had something in her eyes, she was... particular. She was someone, someone he would love... to see again, of course !
"Stop talking nonsense", he sighted. "And tomorrow, I want you to give madame Angela her jewellery back. She does not deserve to get her property stolen.
-Rhaaaa come on ! She was so proud of herself, it was unbelievable !
-As a gentleman, I refuse to stole the property of innocent peope, you know it perfectly so I would advise you to give her necklace back as soon as possible. Understood ?"
His brother mumbled something between his lips but, after a dark glare from his sibling, he sighted and nodded. Satisfied, Layton remained silent until they come back home.
New drawing X3
I did a redraw of a famous scene from the Disney movie "Atlantis" But with Aurora from Azran Legacy X3 also I changed her clothes and damn it was hard to draw her as if she was some kind of cristal girl XD
So here's the younger of the Gang ! I will try to do the all Gang 'cause I love them so much >~<
Wing-Ding in Voidtale belongs to @bun-bunmuse ( I hope I don't bother you by giving you credit everytime ><")
–Dad... Is this it ?
Leon frowned a bit turned to look at his son. After Raymond has gone to pick up his mother, they had decided to take something to eat while waiting for the Scottish man to return and the archaeologist decided that it would be fair to let Desmond –the young boy still wanted to be called like this, to him Hershel was now his little brother and he was safe, somewhere out of Targent's reach– choose what he wanted to eat before dinner. The boy had looked around and there was nothing but a little cafe right in front of the park, where Ray had left them. This was a logical and pragmatic choice and, as a matter of fact, the boy was having a very rational mind, seeking pragmatism most of the time, especially not to make his father's life more complicated than it already was. They had sat outside and ordered while waiting for Raymond, and so Desmond had asked for some pancakes and hot chocolate while Leon had only taken a coffee. Black, no sugar. Better to stay awake since he hadn't slept the previous night and almost not the night before either. But he forced himself to smile and keep a rather positive mindset for his son's sake. However, the question got him perplexed.
–What do you mean, my boy ?
Desmond looked down at his chocolate and sighed.
–Are we going to stay here ? I mean... longer ? I... You know, I just wish that we could settle down a bit... maybe a year at least, and do what... what a family do...
Leon's expression grew sadder in the instant and he gulped while trying to restrain a few tears to the corner of his eyes. Of everything, that was what he regretted the most, not being able to protect his family. In fact, he had not been able to do so. And it was because of him, because ofthe Azran– no, because of HIS enthousiasm regarding this ancient civilisation and how much ambition he had put into it, neglecting the danger such a discovery had brought upon him and upon his family. It was HIS fault if these guys showed up one day at his door and tried to have him in a sort of a cult. It was his fault if they had put their threat into act and had taken him and his wife away. Desmond had told him what had happened after this. For two months, both brothers had been living alone in their house while trying to think of a way to stay together but in the end they ended up getting separated and Desmond too was about to get adopted if Leon hadn't come back to pick him up and flee from Targent. And it was all his fault, because if he hadn't tried to escape, Rachel would still be alive at least and Theodore –now Hershel Layton– and Desmond wouldn't have been targeted by a terrorist organisation.
–Dad ?... I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry !
The english man jolted and opened wide eyes before getting dragged out of his thoughts, realising that in fact he was indeed crying, just a few tears but crying anyway. Damn, his father would've called him a crybaby for sure, especially now that he was himself a father. But in this instant he couldn't help but to let out a shy sob. He tried to smile and wipped his tears quickly before shaking his hand.
–No, no, it's fine my boy, it's fine ! I... I'm just a bit tired, that's all... But, to answer your question... I truly don't know... this whole story seems kind of crazy and I don't know if Raymond's mother is going to accept such a proposition.
He wasn't the best when it came to catch the hints Desmond was putting into the conversation, usually Rachel was better at this and she always had the good words, the right words, to comfort their children. But he thought that maybe it would be a good idea to dig it up a bit. If Desmond was asking him about settling down, it probably wasn't coming from nowhere.
–You'd like to have friends I guess ?
Desmond shook his head and looked away, a bit embarrassed. He had tried to hint it when he had said his father he would like to have other sources of knowledge but maybe even that was too subtle for him.
–Not really... That would be nice, indeed, but I... I'd like to go back to school, you know... To learn new things and... maybe go to high school later ? I'd like to learn more, to know more, there is so much I'd like to see, so many places I'd like to go, and–
He stopped and looked at his father, almost desperate by his own words. In his mouth, it sounded incredibly pretentious, petty, ungrateful, but he didn't want to live like a runaway for the rest of his life. But then, with all these questions came the means and the way to achieve such schools. Especially financially.
–I-I can work too, to help you with everything, and–
But his father only chuckled a little and messed with his hair before offering him a bright smile.
–These are grown-ups anxious thoughts, my boy. But I'll tell you. If you want to settle down, then I'll do anything so you can settle down. If you want to go to school, then I'll make sure you'll be able to. If you want to study, I'll make sure you can. So don't worry about anything else but what you truly want, and let me worry about these things. Whatever you want, wherever you go, I'll always support you. Always.
This was enough to make the boy cry, and for a moment Leon thought he had said or done something wrong but his son jumped off his chair and then hopped on his knees to hug him tight and let out all this pressure that had been put on his shoulders for months by now.
–––
In the park, near the gate in front of which the cafe was, Ray was sitting with his mother on a bench, looking at the boy and at the English man, puzzled but certain of something : these guys had been on their toes for far too long, they needed a place to land, a place they could rest knowing there was no enemy outside or inside. His mother was knitting something, her work was done mechanically as if she didn't even had to look at it, and she indeed hadn't taken her eyes off these two people.
–So... Ye truly like this sassenach and his beag, don't ye ?
–They are good people. And ye could come more of'en at yer cottage, mà. We would take good care of it. And the boy could be safe too, loek at him.
–Alright then. Let's not wait any longer, the ballach beag is cryin' !
She put her knitting work, whool and needles in her purse and stood up, already coming to see the boys with a very quick pace. Ray smiled and shook his head, almost having troubles to follow her. If anything, she had never been able to resist a child crying, she always wanted to see happy faces and hear laughters instead of sobs and tears.
When Leon saw them approaching, he seemed a bit confused and anxious, not knowing exactly what to do. He couldn't stand to greet her since his boy was still on his laps, and he couldn't even shake her hand or Desmond would've fallen down.
–O-Oh, hum... Good evening madame !
–Oh, call me Maighread an' quit the salutations, sassenach ! So, who may ye be, lads ?
Leon and Desmond looked at each other and opened wide eyes when they heard her accent. Ray chuckled and shrugged while taking a sit.
–Don't act surprised, A know she's got a helluvan accent, A'm just an amateur, pale. Now, mà, let me introduce to ye... hum...
Leon thought it could be a good way to break the ice a bit and to try to apologise for his rudeness regarding how surprised he had been by her speaking manners, and so he made sure to put Desmond down, stood up carefully and gulped before offering Maighread a hand to shake.
–P-Please to meet you madame... My name is Nikolaï, Nikolaï Sycamore, and this is my son, Desmond.
–Greetings madame, it is... it is a pleasure !
Desmond added before smiling a bit, not knowing how to behave either. The old lady smiled like the happiest person in the world and she seemed to love the idea of having her son bringing people home.
–That's so cute, ye truly are a very distinguish li''le boy, right balach beag ?
She then looked up at Leon and chuckled a bit, which was enough for the archaeologist to relax a bit. Maybe he wasn't making such a bad impression after all. The lady was quite common looking, her hair was like Ray's, her hazel eyes were clearer though and she was older, maybe around 60 probably, but her smile would've make her noticeable anywhere at anytime. Her clothes were common too : heels, a beige skirt with merely a embrodery on it, a rose maybe, and a blue cardigan, and of course a hat, the most sophisticated part of her outfit, carefully pinned on her hair.
–That's delightful to have people comin' here ! Ray barely comes to see me, but can A blame him ? He's a free spirit, as they say these days !
She took the time to stare at the English man and was quick to notice that he seemed to have eat nothing but air for the last past months. She grasped his face and frowned, rather with concern and a bit of reprobation.
–Gracious Lord, look at these cheekbones ! Ye needa eat something boy ! Good thin' Mà Bannag is there ! Now... Ray, ye can go with yer motorbike, A'll take the bus with Nikolaï and his son. This way ye can clean up a bit, it's probably dusty and needs some fresh air, me boy.
–Màààààà... A'm no handyman...
Raymond blushed a bit while scratching the back of his neck. Ah, ntohers, they always know how to embarrass their children, don't they ? However he couldn't say no to her, she was always very comprehensive, never angry, or at least he couldn't think of one single day during which she would've shown anger, and she was never asking him anything anyway. She deserved a lot more than just some help with the cleaning.
Finally, he gave up.
–Fine, I'll do it. Don't be late, OK ?
But before he could go to his bike, Desmond grabbed the edge of his jacket and his eyes were shimmering with excitement.
–Please, can I come ?!
Maighread was having the fondest smile ever hanging on her lips while Ray was surprised enough to open his eyes wide, but not enough to really be cought off guards. Seeing how the child loved mechanics already, he could tell how fascinating a motorbike could be.
Leon, as for himself, was livid. It was as if every trace of colour had left his face and his hand was trembling a little while he was gulping nervously. Let his son go by himself with a total stranger ? Sure, Ray had saved their life once, but Leon was always having his son near him, not too far, and if he had to leave him alone to go to London for example, he would do it knowing there were people ready to take care of him, like in their previous village, or when he was absolutely certain there was no danger. And yet he would never leave for more than an hour, two at best. But right now, leaving his son going by himself with Ray, in a foreign country, alone, on a motorbike, in the countryside, that was too much for his little heart.
And what if they had an accident? What if Targent was there, looking for him and his son even here in Dingwall ? What if Ray was not a good person in the end ? What if he had given his trust to someone dangerous ? What if he was putting his son's life on the line again, just like he did with Rachel and Theodore ? His breath got shorter and his heart seemed to want to jump out of his chest, so much that he was wondering if he wasn't having a stroke.
–Hey, sassenach... !
A firm hand on his shoulders brought him back to reality and he looked at Ray who was trying to understand what was going on here, his hands on his shoulders and a worried frown carving his forehead. Desmond was not saying anything but he bit his lower lip whike clenching his fists and looking away. He was young, right, but he knew his father wasn't fine and in fact he knew that his father was having these kind of struggles rather often. Most of them late at night.
–Y-yeah... I'm fine... I'm fine, I just- I...
–Dad, you're not...
Leon could feel his heart beat painfully in his chest, because he was now again feeling guilty for his behaviour, for his choices and for what he was showing to his boy. No no no, he had to be better, to show him that he was there, even if times were hard, he had to show him that he could protect him. It was his goddamn role, as a father ! He forced himself to smile but his face was still pale, and he bags under his eyes were contrasting so much with his carnation that he seemed to almost be sick.
–I'm just a bit tired, t-that's all.
–No, it's not...
–Sassenach...
Raymond sighed, knowing perfectly well how the English man's brain was reacting and thinking about the boy's wish. He trusted no one. He trusted his son and that was all, and deep down Ray couldn't blame him, that was a way to survive, a very good strategy when you had very few allies. But it was a vicious circle, because you couldn't have allies if you were not able to put some trust in people.
–A doubt ye'll trust me on ev'rythin', but... A swear A wanna help ye... ye both... So, if ye don't feel like lettin' your boy comin' with me, A won't try to convince ye otherwise. Yer son's lucky to have ye as a father...
He looked at his mother who just smiled sadly, as if both were understanding each other without a word, and he shrugged before messing with the boy's hair.
–Don't worry, maybe later balach beag.
–W-Wait...
Everyone looked back at Leon who was trying to take a decision. His face was still showing how uneasy he was, how internally he struggled to give an answer, and how much he wanted the best for his son, even if he was crazily worried for him. He began to fidget a bit, playing with the edges of his coat, and he gulped nervously before taking a deep breath.
–I... I am trying... really... it's just...
Suddenly, and before he could say more, Raymond seemed to have an idea and he clapped his hands together, making Leon jolt again.
–A know ! What if we get on me bike and A drive in front of yer bus ? This way, ye can see us, and the boy's getting a ride !
Desmond opened wide sparkling eyes and a large smile flew across his face before he looked back at his father, with bug puppy eyes pleading for it. Leon seemed to ponder the idea and, after a sigh, he bit his lip and nodded, even if his smile was a very poor mask to hide his worry.
–...I... Yes, why not ? But... you'll be careful, right ?
Raymond smiled. But this time it wasn't a cynical grin or anything, it was a true smile, a kind one, showing how touched he was, to be entrusted with the child. He patted his shoulders a few times and winked.
–No worry, sassenach, we'll be just right ahead.
Desmond almost jumped in his father's arms and hugged him as much as he could, knowing perfectly fine how much this decision was costing him.
–You're the best, dad... thank you.
Leon couldn't help but offer him a smile in return and caressed his hair before kissing his forehead and letting him go with the Scottish man. In fact, seeing them getting on the motorbike, he had almost forgotten that they were four and not three. When Maighread pinched his cheek, his winced a bit but blushed, embarrassed, and stared at her whole she was staring at him, calmly and happily.
–Ye're a good boy, fer sure. Ray's right, yer son's lucky ! Now... come, son, A think we need a li''le chat here.
Ahe looked to her left, Leon followed his eyes. A few meters away, there was a bus stop and, away again, a bus coming right to it.
-> First chapter
-> Previous chapter
Here we got two drawings made for the wonderful @mortallychaotickingdom about her OCs Marshall and Jay from her comic ( GO READ IT, IT IS MARVELLOUS ! )
The first one is for an art trade with her and the second one is a sort of bonus because I just love drawing her characters over and over again XD
An OC of mine. She calls and presents herself as Morgane but it's not her real name. The first appearance is how she is and the second one is how she could have been if she had lost hope in humanity and life.
The compartment of the wagon was oddly silent. Well, in fact, neither Ray, nor Leon nor Hershel had anything to say. Or rather they wanted to say a lot of things but they didn't dare to, mostly because they didn't know where to begin.
Hershel was still wondering how Ray had managed to got them a compartment without any reservation, but deep down he already had the beginning of an answer, and it was not all about being legal. For now, and because he hadn't slept very well during the previous night, he was sleeping on the bench seat, with his father's own coat to keep him warm and cosy, after having watched the landscape running outside for quite some time.
Leon was staring at the Scottish man, sitting next to his son and making sure his plushy wasn't going to fall from his son's embrace. His eyes were more tired than before and he had crossed his arms, not ready to let any emotion pierce again through his face. He was thankful indeed, because without him they would be taken to the Nest already, but he was also very distant and worried, because it wasn't common to know Targent, and less common was Ray's abilities. Leon had been trapped in this bloody tower for weeks with his wife and, even if he hated to admit it, Targent's soldiers were good. Very good. And from what he had understood when they quickly got a few explanations while waiting for the train, Ray put four of them to sleep with no apparent difficulties, which was... almost impossible. And the man who was aiming at him seemed to know him well, and to be afraid of him too.
–Are ye goin' to stare at me like this for long, sassenach ?
Leon jolted. Ray didn't even looked at him, he was still looking at the fields, behind the window, and he knew perfectly well what Bronev was thinking in this instant. And in fact, the English archaeologist sighed and looked away.
–Stop calling me that.
Ray smiled a bit.
–Calling ye what ?
–That thing, "sasnar". What does it even mean ?
The man in the leather jacket chuckled and rolled his eyes before looking at the English man. His eyes were tired indeed but he refused to sleep, to have an eye on his son and to have an eye on him too.
–"Sassenach", it means "stranger". Or "English". To Scots, it's the same. Also, A think this name suits ye well since A'm sure ye're English at least. "Nikolaï" huh ?
Leon's face grew more serious and his eyes were almost as cold as a statue in the middle of a winter storm. This was a very sensitive topic indeed but they had to talk about it, or else their alliance was meant to end quickly. Judging by the man's willingness to protect Hershel, and how he looked at him, he had principles and a moral code, and he seemed reliable regarding Targent and his hatred toward this terrorist organisation.
–You heard him, huh...
–Leon Bronev, the famous Azran expert. Ye disappeared from a li'le village near Stansbury with yer wife, 2 years ago. And ye are one of the very few people to have escaped Targent.
Ray paused and stared at Leon who was livid and pulling his son closer from his side, as to protect him from an invisible menace. The Scottish man sighed and looked back through the window.
–Sorey...
–To anyone else, I'm Nikolaï Sycamore and he's my son Desmond. As for you, I'm still concerned about my son's safety since tonight you were clearly out of these agents' league. "Ray", seriously ? That's merely a nickname.
He smiled a bit, bitter, and sighed. This situation was really awkward and making them both uncomfortable but they had to adress the issue because it was the key to build a mere sense of confidence. However, the other man seemed to brush off the idea of talking about his name and focused back on a more important topic.
–Ye're not bad either. Nice hook, by the way.
–Thanks but... you're avoiding the topic. Why are you helping us ? You could've let us go on our own and then go on your own as well.
That question wasn't surprising, and somehow Ray was waiting for it. But even if he was prepared to hear it, he had no answer which would be satisfying enough to give to the archaeologist. This was his sensitive topic, the one he wasn't comfortable with, because the answer was also very unsatisfying for him as well.
–I... made some very questionable choices in the past... and...
He paused for a few seconds and stared at Hershel, or rather Desmond, who was sleeping under the coat and close to his father, before looking away again. In his eyes, Leon was certain to have spotted some guilt.
–Let's just say that I seek redemption... for the people I hurt. And I hope I'll achieve it someday...
Another long and heavy silence. Leon observed the man sitting in front of him with curiosity and yet with the clear impression that he was trying to hide the elephant in the room. And it was working rather well indeed since he had no idea what it could be. But the voice and the eyes of that strange Scottish biker were everything but full of lies. Deep inside, the English archaeologist knew his newly found ally was truly trying to make amend for something that happened in his life.
Ray sighed again but his dark eyes stared at Leon for some time before he finally decided to keep going.
–The past, A don't care. Ye want to be called Nikolaï, A'll call ye Nikolaï, same for yer boy, A'll call him Desmond. But for now... we need to head to somewhere safe. And nowhere will be, unless we put as much distance as possible between us and them.
Leon sighed again and kept his son close while looking outside. The sky was slowly starting to be covered with grey clouds and the air seemed to get colder. Judging by the direction the train took, and by the fact that they needed to head far away from London, they were probably heading north.
To break a bit with the heavy topic, Leon focused back on a lighter matter.
–You're wrong though. I'm not entirely English.
Ray raised an eyebrow. Leon rolled his eyes a bit playfully.
–My father was from Saint Petersburg.
Both men looked at each other before chuckling a bit, to ease a bit that pression that had been concentrated for a few hours now. Ray couldn't believe it.
–Ye're English AND Russian, fer God's sake !
–Da ! Now hush, you'll wake my son up...!
But the more he was thinking about it and the more they both wanted to laugh because that sounded like something absolutely uninteresting and yet oddly funny in this particular context. Ray shook his head and kept going.
–Well, as fer me, A owe ye the truth... Me real name's Raymond and I hate it.
–Oh... it explains a few things.
–Is that so ?
–...In fact no, it's just so... so not Scottish-sounding. Sounds like a French waiter at the Ritz.
They both began to laugh again after a glare from the Scottish man. This sounded rather strange to Leon, to hear himself laugh, because it had been weeks since the last time he truly was able to release all that stress. However, they had to come back to focusing on serious matters.
–I see... But it will still be rather risky and probably hard since being a single father with a young son is rather tough these days.
–We could... be roomates ? Flatmates ? A dunno, what do ye call two people livin' together and both paying the rent ?
If there was any kind of idea that was supposed to be crossing Leon's mind right now, it was certainly not this one ! In fact, this sounded so uncommon and unpredictable that he lost an instant to stare, his mouth wide opened and his eyes round and more round even.
–I beg your pardon ?
Ray raised and eyebrow and his shoulders.
–What ? Can't we somehow make it work ? A'm broke, A can't afford to live in a house by meself. And ye can't take good care of yer boy without an ally. It doesn't sound so crazy to me.
Leon stared at the man, his face, his eyes, his leather jacket, his position on the bench -quite relaxed, occupying the space he had- and his attitude until now and suddenly he began to laugh a bit, and the more he was thinking of the man as a "normal man doing normal things in a normal house", he couldn't help but to laugh a bit louder. This was enough for Desmond to yawn a little and open one eye, then the other, and looking at both adults who seemed to have been discussing important matter during his little nap.
–Hmm ?... Dad, why are you laughing ?
–F-For nothing, ahaha ! No, truly, don't worry, don't worry my boy... ahaha !... it's just that, oh god, Ray here just-
–What ? Is it so insane ?!
Desmond looked at both the men with a confused frown, waiting for an answer to his interrogation, and also rather surprised to hear his father laughing. Raymond sighed and shook his head while explaining a bit more what they were talking about a few minutes ago.
–We were talking about livin' together.
–Wait-what ?!
The little high-pitched voice of the boy was enough to make Leo laugh again, even though Desmond was, after this moment of blunt surprise, was seriously pondering the idea. It was risky, for sure, but at least they were together in this awful situation and they could possibly make it work. His little mind was way too serious sometimes and it was now one of these times.
–Well, it all depends on where we are going to move in... also, I doubt I can still be doing homeschooling. I love you dad but... you always tell me it's better to find knowledge everywhere rather than taking it always from the same source.
His father stopped laughing, opened his mouth with the intention to say something, but in the end he just closed it and mumbled something before sighing.
–That's... true, but... you know we have to be discrete.
Raymond thought it was his time to intervene.
–Neh, don't worry sassenach, ye're not goin' to be spotted where we're headin' !
–Oh, that's true... Where is this train going ?
–To Dingwall. It's a li'le town near Iverness, north Scotland. Targent is never goin' to come here, they wont suspect ye're hidin' with me.
Leon looked at the weather. Yup, typical Scottish weather coming ahead.
–I should've guessed. It's raining, in Dingwall, I guess ?
Raymond stared at Leon for a good minte long anf took a deep breath, trying to stop his tongue from being bitchy, but he couldn't help it.
–Of course it's raining ! Where do ye think Scotland is ? The freaking Pyrenees ?
–Language !
The archaeologist snapped before rolling his eyes and sighed once again.
–Why Dingwall ?
–Because A know where to find a house fer us three.
–A house ? Whose house ?
That was surprisingly... quick. There's no way he had been able to look for a house so soon so here it was, the elephant in the room. At this one too, Ray seemed a bit awkward and he muttered something no one heard correctly. Leon frowned.
–I beg your pardon ?
–... me mom's...
He muttered while blushing and looking away. Desmond and Leon looked at each other and then stared back at the Scottish man.
–.... what ?!
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Ça c'est le Saint Graal des fics XD pour quelqu'un comme moi qui ai facilement tendance à la dépression, c'est très important ce que vous faites !
Une fic Kaamelott où Arthur essaye désespérément de draguer sa femme. Plottwist : ça tourne mal. Tout le monde s'en mêle. La 3ème va vous surprendre.
Bon anniversaire @katewalker ; tu peux pas savoir comme je suis heureuse te t'avoir trouvée ♥♥♥.
As a literature student, I assure you this is absolutely true ! It's mostly how writers guide their readers and the reading of a book.
Writing is NOT made of pure talent, it is mostly learning, how to compose with the language to create something that make sense and that can touch the person of the reader.
Personnaly, I think this is the best thing about writing, you can communicate something to someone with words ! That, that's why I love literature ♡
my writing fundamentally changed forever ten years ago when i realized you could use sentence structure to control people’s heart rates. is this still forbidden knowledge or does everyone know it now
Still tired and having no time to focus on drawing but I will keep going with some facts I think of.
OK so :
Bill Hawks is Cutler Beckett ! I know, it's not the first film but I want a trilogy X'3 he is despicable af and has no moral compass so he is the perfect asshole for this
Bronev needed Hershel to break the Azran Curse. The Azran warned the ones looking for the treasure : "This treasure thou take but thy heart shall break : for one piece glittering, the blood of thy most precious thing". He tried once with Desmond only to fail because each time he sees him, that reminds him that his elder son has his dark-red eyes. He sees everything he hates about himself. But Hershel has his mother's eyes, the eyes of Rachel, and he is kind and gentle like her. The most precious thing Bronev ever got for me is Rachel, who he can see when he looks at his younger son. May sounds strange, sorry, but it's just my point ^^"
I need a cursed relationship between Randall and Angela : Randall, the cursed captain feeling betrayed by his love, bounding her into one single human form and wandering the seas on his damned ship.
Some of you will hate me after this but keep in mind I like grim stuff and drama : Raymond is now a sailor on the Revenge ( let's say it is the name of the Dutchman and the ship of Randall, even though I KNOW it is BlackBeard's ship in a fourth movie but this one doesn't exist in this crossover >< ) after having been sent to the depths by Bronev after the mutiny. I know, it's horrible but I think this could create a good drama and I just want to picture him at night in the ship, and saying "Time's run out, boy" with some pain in his voice because he knows Desmond will be in trouble ><
The WEDDING for God's sake ! Imagine Hershel : "Claire, do you want to marry me ?" And Claire be like "0/////0" and Desmond, in the background: "OMG FINALLY !"
Hershel : I've made my choice. What's yours ?
Claire : ... Bronev !
*Both Desmond and Bronev, fighting back to back, stopping and fixing Claire like: WHOT ?!*
Claire : Marry us !
Bronev : I'm A LITTLE busy at the moment ! *frenetically striking his enemies with his sword*
So here are some thoughts about the subject but I dunno what to do with this at the moment, exams are tiring X'3 hope you enjoy this kind of post ^^"
OK, so I have been charmed by the serie Miraculous, Adventures of Ladybug and Chat Noir ( dammit this was way more serious than what I was expecting >< so cool and this damn cliffhanger at the end of season 4 ! ) and I am ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE with Mayura / Nathalie and their design >~< really, I just HAD to draw her and I wanted to do something different after a week of stressful exams and I just thought that ancient dresses would fit perfectly >~< so here it is, tell me what you think of it ^w^
Mayura, the Peacock
Mimi, a little french girl, fan of Professor Layton games, write and draw sometimes, love stories and drama a lot more that I should
85 posts