Here We Got Two Drawings Made For The Wonderful @mortallychaotickingdom About Her OCs Marshall And Jay

First impressions :

I should study ; I'm exhausted so I treat myself with drawing things I like.

Clearly, Ford doesn't like Rania. She's always secretive, she usually seems joyful until she meets him or Stan. Thr only thing he knows is that she's keeping secrets and he doesn't want her to mess with him, his brother or the kids. Plus, her "capacities" are not to his liking, at all.

She spends a lot of time with Mabel, the girl is teaching her knitting and she likes it, it helps her relax and it's so satisfying.

She visited the Shack once but seemed pretty amused by most of the stuffed animals and all. However, she went once to Gravity Falls' Museum and she felt awkward, strange... as if there was always someone watching her.

No one knows why she came to Gravity Falls, but she's determined to stay as discreet as possible, for an unknown reason as well.

A strange encounter

Alright so I'm redrawing this little thing because I rushed the last one and I wasn't fully satisfied with it so here I'm trying harder with the cartoon style ahah ><

"What has happened to you sir ?..."

Rania is very sensitive to energies and to places where such energies are to be found in higher proportions, mostly old places that accumulated a lot of things, would they be good or bad. Her eyes alone can't see them clearly unless the energy is very strong, so she uses her hagstone to help her find some trail, some hidden path and hidden things in general.

However, following the path deep into the forest, she didn't expect to find someone in that old crumbling church. Someone with such a... broken aura. It was like waves of uncertainty and mixed energies, all unbalanced and storming around that poor old man like lost birds trying to find their place to land, somewhere to go, a purpose to fulfill. It was too overwhelming and she couldn't stop a tear or two.

Churches never were a happy place anyway.

Chapter 5 : O Flower of Scotland !

When they arrived to Dingwall, Desmond hopped from the train and looked around, yawning a bit. This train trip had been rather long considering how far they now were from London and from England. They had taken a small train to go to Victoria Station before taking another very long one to go to Edinburgh, and he had been taking some time to sleep since his night had been pretty rough until now. It was also during that time that his father and Raymond had been discussing the idea of renting a house together and find a job to ease their expenditures. Desmond vaguely remembered something about Ray's mother and how he had explained the whole story to them.

His mother owned a small cottage near Cullicudden, a quarter of hour long trip in car was necessary to go there from Dingwall but it was always closer than anything considering trains couldn't go where there was no railroads. Also, there was another reason Ray wanted to stop to Dingwall. His mother was being employed as a domestic by a very rich family living in Dingwall and her cottage was not inhabited most of the time, that was why she had asked his son to come back to Scotland someday, to help her with the house since she was living in the same mansion as her masters. "The cottage is away from any big city, very few neighbours and good air indeed", that was how Raymond had described it and, somehow, after a good hour of thinking about it, Leon was rather opened to such an idea. And he knew that life could be expansive when you were raising a little boy as a father, and alone. Just thinking about Rachel and how she would've wanted her boys safe and sound, living a normal life, had been enough to convince him to give it a try.

Once in Edinburgh, they had to take another train to Iverness, but before doing so they stopped to buy some coats considering the weather was being less clement than in London, and Leon and Desmond hadn't brought one since they had to leave in a hurry. It wasn't winter yet, so they had some time to buy everything they needed. Only Raymond seemed unbothered by the very wet air coming from his homeland, and in fact he was almost happy to come back home. Desmond had been very interested in the landscape and even though it wasn't his first time traveling somewhere –his parents once travelled to Nazca, in Peru, when he and Theodore were younger– he was a bit nervous since this time they had some evil guys trying to look for them in order to take them away to a very bad place. Scotland was very much different from what he thought it would be, and hearing everyone's accent was enough to trouble him a bit at first. But he had been more than excited when they saw the Loch Ness when changing train again in Iverness. He even had the time to see the castle a bit and eat an ice cream !

Finally, after a whole travelling day, they were finally done and getting out of the station. The evening was near and they had not eaten much, merely two sadnwiches and an ice cream for the boy. But with a smile Raymond told them not to worry, that his mother would be more than happy to take them to diner tonight.

–Still, Leon had said, I don't want to impose my presence and Desmond's to her... and if she's kind enough to allow us to stay in her cottage, I might at least be the one offering her a diner.

–Oh, trust me, sassenach, try to offer to pay and ye'll be facin' a beast ! She'll never accept it. Trust me, A've tried twice. And she scolded me in the middle of the restaurant as if A was still a toddler !

Desmond chuckled a bit and was already picturing a little woman scolding that biker as if he was but a child. Leon smiled when he saw him being a bit more joyful than usual. This was enough to make his heart lighter for a few moment. Ray let them for a short moment, going to take back his motorbike which had traveled with them, in a wagon dedicated to these heavy things. Leon rolled his eyes when he saw that Scottish lad being almost in live this his engine.

–Come on, it's just a vehicle ! It's not some kind of wonder.

Raymond gasped and exaggerated his reaction just to make the boy smile again, boy who was really intrigued by such a mechanical prowess.

–It's not "just a vehicle" sassenach ! It's a Norton Model 40 International 350cc 1 cylinder from 1938 ! A've restored it ! T'was me dad's.

–How does it work ?

Desmond had sparkles in his eyes and he was hopping around the vehicle trying to figure out how it was possible for such a thing to be driven by someone on the road. Leon sighed, not knowing how to react to Desmond's enthusiasm since he didn't like mechanical stuff much. He was a more... traditional man regarding technology and mechanics. And he was barely capable to use a television so he wasn't an expert regarding the topic.

–Well, maybe he can explain it to you once we've seen his mother. How do we do that ? We wait for the end of her service or what ?

Raymond took a peek at his watch and thought about it for a minute.

–OK, well... I'll take her at her job, it's almost October's holidays for her, they always give her Samhain.

–Sowhat ?

The Scottish man sighed again and rolled his eyes, pulling his motorbike to follow as they were walking together.

-It's pronounced "Soween", and it's... well, 31st of October. The All Hallows eve, if ye prefer. Go on, have some nice walk time or go to the park, A'll join ye here with me mom. Sounds good ? There's also a few shops. To get yerself a Scots dictionary. Because ye'll need it.

He chuckled and winked to Desmond, promising him a nice ride later, and he made the motor roar before flying away to a very big mansion, away from the city center, and the more he was getting closer and the more his smile was fading. What he hadn't said Leon about all this was that he wasn't exactly in good touch with his mother and he wanted to go there forst to try to talk to her. Last time he had seen her, it was another glorious argument they had, about family mostly, and he has had very harsh words to her, before leaving like a thief, without even saying goodbye. By now he has had enough time to think about it and he regretted a good portion of what he said six years ago. That large amount of time was also the reason he hasn't told Leon about his relationship with his mother. Because at this point he didn't even know if she was willing to talk to him anymore.

He had written him letters 2 years ago, if you can call that writing a letter considering he's done nothing but traces a few line on the paper, for Christmas, All Hallows Eve, New Year's Eve, Easter, her birthday, etc. Just a few lines, and she had never responded to any of them for the simple reason he's been avoiding to leave any address to reply. His life wasn't the most glorious one and by now he was really regretting it, trying to make up for things he's been too stubborn to apologise for.

Without him realising it, his motorbike had almost ridden itself alone, bringing him right to main gates of the big mansion where his mom was working. He sighed and entered the property, leaving his engine near the portal gates, and proceeded to go up the alley to reach for the doors and knock on them, disdainful enough not to ring the bell. He wasn't used to ring bells anyway, he preferred the simple knocking, bells were some fancy way to summon someone and he didn't like it.

A young woman came soon after, looking at him with red cheeks and a shy smile across her face.

–Good evening sir... Who may I announce ?

–Hi, huh... well, A'm not here to see Lord McGregor, A'm lookin' fer me mother, Maighread, is she workin' or does she have... ye know, a few minutes ?

The young lady though seemed a bit troubled by his accent, for sure she was probably not used to Scots and Scottish accent either since the master of this old creaky mansion was trying to speak as "normally" as possible.

–I deeply apologise but... May-who ?

–Maighread, me mom. Ye know her surely, a li''le woman, heavy brown hair, she's the one in charge of the whole domestics here A think.

This time the lady figured it out and her eyes seemed to lighten up.

–Oh, I see ! You're looking for Mà Bannag ! Everyone calls her like that, she always bakes the most wonderful pies !

Ray sighed, a bit nostalgic, and thought that this nickname was truly fitting his mother. He nodded and offered the maid his most charming smile.

–Would ye be kind enough to allow me to see her ? The day's almost done, and A need to talk to her...

Being put in front of such a charming man, the woman blushed again and chuckled like an adorable chick before allowing him to enter and asking him to wait in the hall while she was going to bring Maighread in.

Ray looked around, not that impressed by such a decorum displayed through this hall. Big wooden interior, sculptures, old architecture, dark wooden stairs and ceilings, some tapestries which colours were slowly being less and less shiny considering they were older than everyone in this mansion, some carpets, everything making this house wealthy was only the furniture while the house itself was creaking each time there was a windy day. The man had lived there, with his mother and father, in the domestic aisle, most of his life, before leaving when he was a teen. He knew this corridors like no one else and he also remembered some nice little pranks he did to his parents when he was hidden in the library secret passage. A bit cliche but always worked. The thought was enough to bring a smile on his face but it quickly vanished when he heard the voice of an old man coming from up the stairs.

–It's been a while since last time you came here...

Raymond barely looked up, he wasn't much impressed by the old lord and his grey hair, grey moustache, grey tuxedo and severe figure. In fact, all that was filling his eyes right now was animosity.

–A'm not here to talk to ye. A'm here for me mà.

The old lord seemed to feel some heavy pressure on his shoulder and he looked away. Even his voice seemed less full of assurance.

–She should be here soon, I saw Maggie, the maid who introduced you in, rushed to the domestic aisle... ... you know, if I can do something, I-

But Raymond shook hisbhead and interrupted him right away.

–A want nothin' comin' from ye. And don't ye dare bring Maighread into this. Ye've done enough already, don't ye think ?

The old man sighed but replied nothing. Instead, he only nodded and went away, coming back to his room, just a moment before a shaky voice came to Ray's ears. He turned with a small smile hanging on his lips and waited anxiously for the little woman to come closer, uncertain how to react.

In front of his, his mother was looking at him, her hazel eyes wide opened. Her dark wair was tied into a severe bun but her cheeks and wrinkles at the corner of her eyes were indicating a very joyful woman. She was a bit skinnier than last time Ray had seen her and she had aged indeed. Her hands were shaking because of how unreal the moment seemed to be to her and her uniform, her apron indeed, was covered in flour. The man sighed and messed with his own hair, embarrassed and not knowing what to say. Suddenly his mind had gone blank.

–Hey.... huh... well... hi mà...

The old woman didn't let him say anything else and rushed to hug him tight, happy like she had rarely been. Since she was littler, he had to lean a bit but he didn't complain and hugged her back.

–Mo mac ! Balach beag, A've been so worried, me boy !

If anyone wondered where that young man got his accent from, then the answer was his mother, because she was the one always using this soft voice and little words to speak with her son. Even Ray's father had less of an accent than her !

–Ye are insufferable, young man ! Do ye know how very few informations ye put in yer letters ? A didn't even know if ye were doin' fine or not !

–A'm fine, mà... A just... well... A just had... rough days back then... A'm sorry...

A mother would always be a mother and this one knew her som very well. She backed away a bit, softly put her hands on both his cheeks and look him in the eyes with a worried frowned wrinkling her forehead.

–Yer eyes tell a lot, mo mac... Ye'll explain to me later ?

Raymond sighed and looked away. Maighread sighed too and kissed his forehead before smiling.

–I know ye're not here without a reason... do ye mind helping me grab me things ? Then ye'll tell me all about it, sounds fair ?

For how much Raymond wanted to be serious and for how much guilty he was feeling for the past few years, he cracked a smile and followed his mother. This little reunion had been going rather well but the main topic wasn't even brought on the table yet, they would need a long conversation, preferably with a cherry or a good whiskey.

–Yeah... let's go... Care fer a ride on me motorbike ?

–A thought ye'd never ask !

-> First chapter

-> Previous chapter

-> Next chapter

I needed to draw this afternoon ( funking exams and headache after philosophy test X'3 ) sooo I decided to draw something for @mortallychaotickingdom because I can't stop thinking about her little PL × BotW crossover X3

And I am in love with her design of Targent as Yigas so here we are X3 hope you like it ^w^

Also I love jewelry on bad guys, I know I'm weird but hey X3

Also is it me or are outfits in BotW really hard to draw with all those details ? But dammit so cool, sure they are !

A little something related to @umboloae GF AU, because I love their Human Bill design so much >~< cringe incoming sorry not sorry ahah was supposed to post this two/three weeks ago ><

Also, I don't know if Ford would say that because he thinks it's really not fitting, or just to annoy his ex XD

Bill definitely needs Mabel's help on this one !

Another silly thing, been working on it to ease the stressful weeks of October, ahah ><

Well, what's good with GF is that any kind of Doctor Who dialogue would fit X3

Also, this time the dialogues should be big enough to be properly readable ^^"

Heeeeeeey I'm back with stupid thoughts again ( mostly about PL because that game is gold !)

So I rewatched a let's play ( yeah, I do that a lot ) of PL vs AA and I fell in love with the design of the whole city of Labyrinthia ! I mean, I'm pretty much in love with medieval designs, legends, mix of fantasy and mystery about magic etc. And the music is amazing !

And so [ WARNING SPOILER ] I was thinking about something.

Since Descole took his revenge on Targent, he has no goal then and says at the end of Azran Legacy that he'll seek adventure.

And theeeeeen ( you see it coming right ? ) what if he went and found Labyrinthia ? What if he had decided to stay at Labyrinthia after all that happened ?

Remember that his past is freaking sad, traumatic and full of despair. And that the water you drink in the city can erase temporarily your memory.

Imagine that : Desmond being part of that city, living peacefully with no memory of Targent, being under the influence of the Story of the Storyteller.

And now, someday, comes a professor with his apprentice and an attorney and his assistant. And the meeting, God, could be bittersweet X'3 like this whole mess of mine but really like :

Layton : Desmond ?... What are you doing here ?

Luke : You !!!

Desmond : *being totally lost and not knowing them* huh ? Do I know you ???

Phoenix : wait- you know him professor ??

Luke : you monster !

Desmond : ???!!!! I think you misunderstand ????

Maya : ooooh dramaaaa *^*

Aaaaand that's all for me, now make up your mind about it anyway X'3

OK folks so I am tired tonight and have to much thoughts to share that are not really necessary but they just flop into my mind sooo...

I was rewatching Azran Legacy's let's play recently and I am more and more interested in the fact that there is literally only flashbacks to describe how the life of the Bronev family was perfect before the evil TARGENT showed up aaaaaaand.... there is literally not a single development part where it is explained how Bronev became evil, how Desmond grew up and met Raymond, how Desmond had a family of his own etc.

That is the main complain I have about the game. It is really good but important things are a bit thrown as if unimportant ><

And so, growing attached to this lack of development, my mind had to play with contexts and inventing things and so I ended up wondering...

What if Bronev had escaped from TARGENT ?

What if his wife had been killed by them ?

What if he found his elder son and took care of him alone, ready to avenge Rachel and take down TARGENT ?

What if Bronev and Raymond had to take care of a growing young man progressively understanding that his mother will never come back and wanting to help his father getting revenge, then having himself a family, losing them and being 100% ready to take TARGENT down ?

What if they were together, father, son and butler, to solve the Azran's mysteries ?

It would be a sort of a reverse arc for Bronev : before TARGENT, he was beginning to be obsessed by the Azran civilization, possibly leading him to be less here for his family, what he regrets after Rachel's death. After this, he has to take care of his son without his wife and find some balance between revenge, and so the Azran, and life as a lonely father ( even if he is helped by a devoted butler X3 ).

I think somehow I would like to explore this, because I really think that could be cool X3 also, the lack of explanations and development in the games is useful for this because it allows to fantasising about all the "what if" and the "reasons why".

I dunno if I will keep that idea but hey, maybe I will if I don't forget about it tomorrow already ahaha

An idea I had a long time ago, it just popped in my head someday : what if Hershel and Desmond were some kind of thieves like Arsène Lupin ? And this happened.

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.

Whaou... he's almost androgynous, with a very feminine body... that's really impressive and that's exactly how I imagine him... you have a wonderful talent for drawing and colors ^^

So this is how I would imagine B would look like as a human! My own version! The other one I drew was created by a fan which I still appreciate! I also want to thank Derpstickers for inspiring me to use this method for color pencils and that its very useful!