Chapter 2 : The Man On The Motorbike

Chapter 2 : The man on the motorbike

Desmond was upstairs, in his room, reading a book he had borrowed to his father about archaeology and Azran stuff. Donald Rutledge was the only well-known expert as it seemed that had written a book so detailed and so complete about this civilisation, and it was incredibly thin regarding how advanced such people must have been. However, every information about them was good to take, and when he would grow up, he would be helpful to his father, he would find back his brother and his mother, and he would make sure his family would be complete again. So, while his father was out for groceries, he could borrow his books and look at his research a bit without worrying him too much.

However, the more the time was passing by and the more Desmond was beginning to worry since his father hadn’t come home yet. Each time he would go to London, the boy was always worried he would be caught by some undercover agents, or spotted, or lost, or worst, and since his father was the only family he had left, he was more than worried in fact, he was terrified that someone could take him away from him one more time.

Just when he thought he would go to the shop down the street, too afraid to stay alone again, he heard the sound of a motorbike running outside and then stop near the house, while two people seemed to be bickering about something.

–For God’s sake, you truly are insane when you ride that… that… that machine !

It was his father’s voice ! Without thinking twice, he quickly put the book back on the shelf in his father’s working room and he quickly came down the stairs to go to the hall, hearing things more clearly and suddenly pausing in front of the door. Wait, if his father was speaking to someone… then who would it be ? And why were they so angry at each other ?

–Oh, shet up, sassenach, A’m perfec’ly able to drive that beauty anywhere, with or without yer commentary !

Without waiting much longer, Leon sighed, got down the motorbike and quickly entered the house to look for his son… almost falling on him when he saw the youngest behind the door, anxiously looking at it.

–Hershel- !

He kneeled and took his son in his arms before hugging him tight, relieved to see that he was doing fine. Since Targent first came to their house, he has had some sleepless nights making sure they were never around their location, and the whole event left him almost paranoid about it. Losing his son would be the last strike of a dagger inside his poor broken heart.

–I’m sorry, I was so worried… Everything is alright my boy ?

Desmond was getting more worried himself since his father’s behaviour was everything but normal.

–Dad ?… What happened ?

But, as soon as he saw the other man getting down the motorbike, he took a few steps back and looked less of a child all of the sudden, completely analysing the manners of this new face. The same age his father, approximatively, not so tall, not a friend, a perfect stranger, strong Scottish accent, not really serious right now, and too much at ease. How could he be so relaxed and how on earth could his father be coming home with such an individual ?

–Who is he, dad ?

The Scottish man looked at the young boy, with a puzzled expression engraved on his face. He didn’t know exactly why but he had been driving this strange English man to his home because he heard him called his son. He had done it because of the light tremolo in his voice, because of the worry of this man for his child, because Targent was everything but merciful with children, and because somehow this man seemed truly pathetic. Of course.

–Hey, balach beag, how’s yer day ?

–Who are you ?

Desmond snapped before getting in front of his father, between both men, not ready to let anyone enter their home to take anyone away. His little hands were trembling like crazy but he stood his ground and was trying to look as intimidating as possible.

–I-If you’re there to hurt my dad, t-then you’ll have to go… to go through me f-first !

–Hershel…

Leon sighed and his expression grew more guilty. It was because of him if Hershel was behaving like this, trying to put all that pressure on his shoulder rather than just letting his father bear it. It was because he hadn’t been able to protect either Rachel nor Theodore. Because of Targent, they were forced to live like outcasts, always hiding, never trusting anyone but themselves, and moving from place to place to make sure never to be caught since that bloody organisation knew he was the archaeologist with the most extended comprehension of this bloody Azran civilisation. All of this, it was because of him.

Slowly, he took Hershel’s arm and stood up to ask him silently to do or say nothing too harsh.

–It’s fine, my boy, he helped me coming home.

–Aye, and we met at-

–We met at the grocery shop, interrupted Leon before the lad could finish his sentence.

It was not necessary to worry Hershel more than he already was. But the boy looked at his father, then stared at the man and at his motorbike. Then she shook his head with a very sad expression.

–Dad, you brought no groceries… And you were way too shaken when you hugged me. Please, tell me the truth… Do we have to move out again ?

This was also a subtle way to ask, in front of that stranger, if Targent had found them again. Leon sighed again, deeply ashamed of himself and how bad of a father he was.

–I… I think so… But it would just be a precaution, to be sure-

The Scottish man, however, was still there and he was a bit embarrassed, because it was somehow a very good delusion if the English man would hope to stay near London while having been spotted so close to his location.

–Hum, A don’t mean to int’rupt ye but… Ye better go far from London. In the deep countryside, mate. Because they’ve found ye around, and they won’t give up. It's as braid as it's lang, ye can’t stay here.

Leon stared at the man and his dark red eyes seemed even darker.

–I think we had an agreement. I thank you for the help but as you remember, you have to go back to your place already.

The man in leather jacket raised an eyebrow, then sighed and rolled his eyes.

–A've no jist come up the Clyde on a bike, ye know ? Targent never gives up, do they ?

Desmond opened wide eyes.

–Wait- you know about them ? Dad, what’s going on here ?

–Nothing Hershel, our friend was on the departure anyway, right, « mate » ?

The man sighed again. They were off their heid, no doubt, but anyway he couldn’t get involved with them. For how much he would hate a child to get into troubles, he couldn’t allow himself to be close to people. He almost paid it too highly years ago. But for now he had at least to spend the night in this little town since it was beginning to be late and his motorbike had run out of gas.

–Ok, ok… A’ll leave, but… at least, do ye know where A can take some rest ? A didna get a blink o sleep last nicht. Is there an inn ? a hotel ? something ? where A can spend the nicht ?

Despite not being very fund of the idea to help a total stranger, Leon gave him an address down the street of a very good inn ready to find him a room for the night. However, the salutations were short and quick. Once alone in their house, Hershel and his father were staring at each other with guilty frowns, knowing perfectly well that tomorrow they would have to move out again, as soon as possible. Even if Leon didn’t know nor like that Ray guy, he was right at some point. They couldn’t stay here and certainly not so close to London if some agents have had spotted them. Without another word, they went to the kitchen to prepare something to eat, but the silence filling up the air was way heavier than a lead ceiling.

———

In town, “Ray” had found the address of the inn the “legal grave-digger” had told him about, and once he was certain his motorbike was already full of gas, he parked it somewhere in the street -just below the window of the room he had been given for the night- and finally sit in front of a desk on which there were a bottle of single malt whiskey, a pen and a blank sheet of paper. He looked at it for a few minutes while taking a pipe out of his jacket inner pocket, filling it with tobacco before lighting it up and taking a few puffs. After some other long minutes during which he wasn't certain to agree wih his own mind, he finally decided to take the pen to write something down but, as soon as he wrote the name of a person on the top of it, he stopped and let go of the pen with an upset little snappy move of the wrist.

–Feck...

He dropped his head back and closed his eyes, reflecting on the past few years and on his choices. Things were hardly nice these days. First, he had thought he could win over a bunch of idiots a few amount of money by cheating at card games and drinking a bit in a town he wasn't supposed to be. But then that man came here in a Scottish pub to get wasted even though he was supposed to... go get some groceries ? for his little boy ? How was it even possible that such coincidence and such ill omen were disposed to be put like this on his way ? And now Targent was back. And they have noticed someone, and now no matter whoever it was, him or the sassenach, now they were both involved because they had fled together. This was suspect enough, and when these assholes would look into their archives, they would remember those faces. His, and the sassenach's.

He sighed and took another puff from his pipe before folding the paper and make it come closer to a lighten match before looking at the paper burn to ashes into the ashtray. When the name on it disappeared, he stood up, went to his window and opened it to lean on the threshold and look at the starsky while smoking. The night wouldn't be long...

....

Or maybe not.

What were these shadows running behind the houses and in the streets ?

The Scottish man frowned. A few years ago he would never have noticed this kind of details but now he was more than aware this was everything but a nice thing and even more... it was a very worrying thing. He looked at them crawling in the shadows and then opened wide eyes.

-Oh feck !

He grabbed his jacket, turned off his pipe in a hurry and rushed out of the Inn. These people were heading to the sassenach's house.

-> First chapter

-> Next chapter

More Posts from Mirza-majoris and Others

2 years ago

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ : Blood on the second drawing

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ : Blood On The Second Drawing
⚠️ Warning ⚠️ : Blood On The Second Drawing

Here is the evolution of an OC I made while doing a rp with a friend about PL and TARGENT. Her name's Magpie, she loves this kind of birds and is a very talented pickpocket.

I redesigned her because I have her evolution in mind in a way, I dunno if I will let her exist in the PL universe of make her independantly of it. Changing the style of the drawing and going into something darker. Dunno if it's relevant, nor interesting but here it is...

I love dark things and drama sooooo yup, maybe draw more of this later, dunno


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2 years ago

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


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1 year ago

Bold of you to assume that he was the one to set up everything for the exhausted winners

*designate Raymond*

That man did, change my mind

in eternal diva descole went through the trouble to set up that lovely picnic table of wine and various fruit for the winners and that’s adorable

4 years ago
An OC Of Mine. She Calls And Presents Herself As Morgane But It's Not Her Real Name. The First Appearance
An OC Of Mine. She Calls And Presents Herself As Morgane But It's Not Her Real Name. The First Appearance
An OC Of Mine. She Calls And Presents Herself As Morgane But It's Not Her Real Name. The First Appearance
An OC Of Mine. She Calls And Presents Herself As Morgane But It's Not Her Real Name. The First Appearance

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.


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1 year ago

Hello folks, so I would like to ask you people a thing and explain a few others.

So I had some problem with my phone earlier and I lost a few drawings and an animation I was ready to post soooo I am quite disappointed and exhausted right now. I have to learn to draw with another app and it's not really funny. Plus, I'd like to focus on one thing and another so I'll probably stop to draw for some time.

BUT ! I have something I'd like to share with you. An idea I have for some time so your opinion is important to me.

I will ask people interested in Professor Layton stuff so if this topic is interesting to you don't hesitate to share and make up your mind about it.

So as you may know, I made an hypothesis about what if Bronev had escaped Targent and what if he tried to look for his sons and be a good father while trying to avenge his late wife ? And so I'd like to develop that a bit more by writing something about it. So here is my question:

I'll let this for a week to see the result, so here we go people ^^


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5 months ago
mirza-majoris - Mirza-Majoris

mirza-majoris - Mirza-Majoris

I present to you an old OC I've drawn back and better than the last one (I've been checking my files on my phone and found back I had a Gravity Falls OC for a rp and I've never used it because we've never done it in the end) and recently I got back watching the whole serie because this is a gem !

The style being more cartoonish helps me a lot with emotions and with the way I can also draw one character the same way but with different pose (srly, it's hell for me !) So it's a very nice way to train as well ^^

At first I wasn't being really confident about sharing that OC like this, but a friend convinced me she was pretty interesting and so here I am ^^"

Sooooo meet Rania Sinclair ! ^^

And of course, have merry celebrations for the end of the year everyone ! ♡♡♡♡


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3 years ago

Stupid drawing tonight X3 dialogue from an old french film

Stupid Drawing Tonight X3 Dialogue From An Old French Film

For french people, I hope they all know the reference XD Buuut anyway, here is the translation if you don't know french at all XD

Bronev : regarding our job, it's better to be seen as a mad man more than as an idiot.

Descole : then don't worry, you're not fit for a straightjacket =_=

How they react : 👇

Stupid Drawing Tonight X3 Dialogue From An Old French Film

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2 years ago
And This Was My Reaction XD I Just Love When Marty Draws Him And There He Has Me, Really XD

And this was my reaction XD I just love when Marty draws him and there he has me, really XD

Now that I think about it, Raymond and Bronev are really opposites X3 the first one is sexier when he is younger and the second one had to pass over 50 to be really handsome XD

Poor Rachel being like "ExCuSe Me ?! Why did I have to die before he became that hot !?"

I realized I reached the peak of my insanity when instead of resting I decided to sketch a young hottie Raymond…

alright Marty, enough internet for today.  

image

a little bit of context on how everything begun :

image

I’m not alone tho- @narumitsu-lawlu​ and @mirza-majoris​ are my accomplices in this madness eheh 


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3 years ago

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.

4 months ago

Summerween costume !

Summerween Costume !
Summerween Costume !

Rania is a huge fan of the Hex Girls even though they are from cartoons. She knows the songs by heart and she loves the whole "eco goth" vibe. She also loves music in general : she sings, she can go from alto to soprano thanks to her large vocal range and she even plays clarinet but she hasn't touched one for years now. Her favorite genre is probably jazz and she has a soft spot for klezmer when it comes to instrumental music.

So for Summerween, and since Mabel was insisting for her to join the whole celebration, she decided to dress as Thorn from the band (she had a big crush on her when she was younger). Dipper suggested a Fortune Teller as a joke and Mabel thought she would've done a very good witch but she wasn't comfortable with that last idea.

Of course, she didn't expect a big legendary Summerween Trickster to try to eat the kids !


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mirza-majoris - Mirza-Majoris
Mirza-Majoris

Mimi, a little french girl, fan of Professor Layton games, write and draw sometimes, love stories and drama a lot more that I should

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