--Fantasy--

[shylyintrepid]

[The Prouvaire family is one of the oldest in the city of Cannes in the region of La Rose de la Mer. They are the most esteemed and very set in their ways. They are literally as old as dirt, the whole family being comprised of elves and half-elves and at least three alchemists.

And Jean hates it. He hates it with a passion. He can't stand the aura of tradition and the strict hierarchy in the family, the hierarchy that's preventing his mother from leaving his no-good father because the elders haven't found reason enough to let her. That she's the Matriarch's Daughter isn't enough, apparently.

To the hells with that. Jehan--he prefers the human pronunciation of his name to the elvish, much to his pureblooded father's dismay--but Jehan has been writing his godmother in Gaul for months and has arranged to live with her. She's just as rich as the Prouvaires themselves but she is less tradition and more progress, a champion of equality and the arts. He'll be much happier there, and his mother agrees. The elders don't, however, and he's decided to run away. Let them cast him out. He's the only heir they've got and even if they disown him, he's still safe.

He's a day out from Cannes now, he and his horse Marie-Louise Belladona, and he's finally reached an inn. Keeping his ears covered for now, he makes his way inside]

Comments

[angeliaforos]

[It's not strange to see a winged man around these parts. Some call them angels, others call them air spirits, others call them the Swan Maidens - well, at least the girls, since those are the ones who are seen most often. The actual word in their language isn't directly translatable to any other tongue.

What is strange is to see a winged man flying fifty miles an hour over head, sword strapped to his side and a bag flying behind him, crash head-on into a tree.

They're supposed to be better at this than that.

Gabriel just likes going fast.]

[shylyintrepid]

[Jehan can't help but stop and stare at the winged man crashing into the tree. He winces]

Are you alright?

[angeliaforos]

[There's a loud clutter as he crashes through some branches. Gabriel can see stars, but they'll probably go away soon, right?]

Never better. Holy shit, that was great.

[Hes a little loopy.]

[shylyintrepid]

Right.

[Jehan wanders over, concerned]

Where were you heading?

[angeliaforos]

Gods, I don't know. Nowhere. It's my day off.

[He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his mail bag. It's empty, for once.]

[shylyintrepid]

You seemed to be in a hurry, though. Are you sure?

[angeliaforos]

It's - what, Saturday?

[He nods a little. It seems right.]

Yeah. Saturday. I just like going fast.

[He closes his eyes and lets out a little sigh, waving his hand. In an instant, his wings fold up against his back and disappear from view.]

Sorry you came out here, man. You didn't have to.

[shylyintrepid]

I hadn't gotten inside yet. Neat trick.

[angeliaforos]

[Fuck, does he need sleep. He doesn't remember if he saw the guy come outside or not, even.

This isn't good.]

It's not a trick, it's a necessity. Doorways aren't exactly made to accommodate a wingspan, y'know.

[shylyintrepid]

Still a trick. Come on, let me buy you a meal and a drink.

[angeliaforos]

I can get behind that. I love free food.

[He's a hedonist. What can he say?

Gabriel gets up, slowly, and dusts himself off before extending a hand to the young man in front of him.]

Gabriel, by the way.

[shylyintrepid]

[He hesitates to take the hand as elves don't casually touch like that. He has his gloves on, though, so he takes it]

Jehan. I'm on my way to Gaul.

[They head inside, but as soon as they do Jehan pales. There's a couple of Prouvaire militiaelves, and they're looking for him]

[angeliaforos]

[Most angels don't, either. (That's Gabriel's preferred term for what he is.) He likes to think he's not like most of the angels he knows.

He takes Jehan's hand and squeezes it firmly, then walks inside, holding the door open for him. He keeps his sword a little closer to his leg, since he figures most inns aren't exactly friendly to people who have their weapons clanking around.]

I've been to Gaul. It's pretty nice, actually.

[angeliaforos]

We're somewhere near Alsace-Lorraine. I think.

[He blinks, looking around.]

Yeah, Alsace-Lorraine. So. We have a ways to go.

[shylyintrepid]

And we're in the wrong direction, too. Oh, well. We can get to Alsace-Lorraine and re-orient ourselves, yes?

[angeliaforos]

Yep. That sounds like...sounds like a plan.

[A little nod.]

You mind if I fly?

[shylyintrepid]

Go ahead. Keep tabs on me, yes?

[angeliaforos]

Yep. I'm not going too far.

[He lets go of Jehan and waves his hand, taking a deep breath as his wings come out again. Scooting backwards, he flaps a few times to get himself going and floats along in front of the horse and Jehan.]

[shylyintrepid]

[Dona snorts and pushes past him, unamused. Jehan laughs]

I think she's seen your kind before and isn't impressed. I am, though. Your wings are lovely.

[angeliaforos]

How could she not be impressed. Come on.

[But really, it's a sort of 'thanks' - the biggest thanks Jehan will get right now, anyway. They're huge and black flecked with blue and white, like a magpie's.]

[shylyintrepid]

She's a demon horse?

[He laughs]

She's unimpressed by most things. Not sugar cubes, though.

[angeliaforos]

[He grins a little as he soars a little higher.]

Makes two of us, then. I love sweets.

[shylyintrepid]

Three of us. I have the biggest sweet tooth.

[angeliaforos]

I could fight you on that one.

[shylyintrepid]

You'd lose. I've eaten more sweets than a elf twice my age--and I'm only twenty-four by human standards.