Log – Who is She? (2/2)

Francois hes his altogether too-bright clothing. Then he flicks his hand, trying to dislodge the black grime. Then he eyes his clothing again. Then he looks back owards home, and presumably the woman who would be very disappointed in him for walking around in dirty clothing. Then at his white slacks. Le sigh. Looking around him to improvise, he spots the … altogether far too large fox eating (of all things) a pastry. It doesn’t even look like it’s dripping with blood! The francophone heads in her direction.

Contrary alternately watches the armored man leave and keeps an eye on her surroundings, until whatever intent for attention is satisfied. She seems to relax somewhat then and pauses for a moment to inspect her pastry. It doe shave red filling, but it’s fruit, not blood. She takes a few moments to adjust the paper she’s been using to hold it so her fingers won’t get sticky.

Crush walks North.

Crush has left.

“Bonjour mademoiselle!” Francois declares as he juke-steps up to her and peers up so very high to see the vulpine face floating way up there. Mustn’t look straight ahead. That would be interesting, but not good, no. Wigling soot-stained fingers, he asks with a smile, “Is it that you have a tissue or something like this?”

Contrary looks toward Francois, which involves a downward tilt to her head. Though her expression remains, if anything, guarded. “Tissue?”, she asks, glancing slightly toward his fingers. “Oh.. sure, hold on a moment.” She transfers her pastry to one hand while the other dips back behind her to dig under the flap of her bag, taking a few moments before a spare napkin is pulled out and handed over quietly.

Francois ahs, smiling as he works at rubbing as much of the black from his fingers as possible. “In the workroom,” Francois says, “It is not a problem. But here, it is not so good.” Peering down at his mostly-wiped and grey fingers, he holds them up so that the vulpine might see. “There!” he declares. “Now it is more your color.” Pausing, Francois turns himself so that he might be tanding beside the ox in the manner of someone walking with another person. “And what manner of being are you?”

Contrary watches Francois as he cleans his fingers, eyeing his green hair and colorful shade of dress quietly. She quirks a brow at the comparison to her shade of color, but doesn’t add comment as she takes another bite of her pastry. She starts to walk again just as he asks the question. To which she responds with an extended moment of silence, followed by: “What does it matter?”

Francois follows doggedly, slipping the napkin into a pocket and experimentally wiping his dirty fingers at the back of his opposing hand, leaving little smudge marks. They’re not be clean witout water, but are better. Granted he does need to make a step and a half for every one of hers. “Sometimes it makes the difference. And I do not think that I have ever seen one such as you before,” he offers.

“It won’t matter.” Said with a sense of finality to it. “I’ve never.. seen anyone like me, so you probably won’t, ever again.” Contrary’s tone resigned, the pastry unattended in her hands as she walks along slowly. “I’d ask you the same, but I already know what you are.”, she adds, her shoulders rolled in a slight shrug.

“There are many beings who appear to be human,” Francois chides softly, scratching his head. “Well, so I am. With minor variation I fall into this broad category, though one day I am sure the rest of humanity will change the rules to exclude me.” Francois pauses, giving Contrary a long look. “No, I /have/ seen one such as you in the past. Smaller, I think, an working for the late Mythos.”

Contrary doesn’t pause, initially, but after Francois talks about someone like her, she does. She doesn’t turn, a few moments passing before she says, “I don’t know that name.” Which sounds truthfully said enough. For the moment she remains facing away, the guarded nature of her expression returning, obvious enough to cover something else should it be seen.

“When is it that you arrived in town?” Francois asks. “I think that it must have been recent, to have not heard the name of Mythos. He was not the unpleasant man to know, save that he killed the leader of our military.” Francois shakes his head, and says, “If you were to go north,” Francois says, pointing up the street, “and then hang a right at the far intersection, you will see the clan hall on your left. You cannot miss it. Look for the name Aerous. Large, romanesque structure.”

Contrary turns around slowly. “Yesterday..” One answer for on question. There is a sense of anxiousness in her manner in the moments of quiet before she asks, “What did she.. do? The one you say you saw?” She doesn’t give an indication of noting the directions.

“Technowizard,” Francois explains. “The sort of mage that thinks they a mechanic as well, but may only get machines to work through the supernatural. Sometimes this is beneficial. Most of the time the really interesting technology is beyond them.”

Contrary nods her head slightly. “I know about Techno-Wizardry..” Said quickly, before she pauses abruptly. “Uhh.. what did she do.. besides that. If she worked for this.. Mythos person, what in particular did she do for him?” She seems to just now realize she still has the pastry in hand, but after looking at it a moment she carefully starts to wrap it back up in the waxy paper that she’s bunched about the bottom.

“Designed the grenades, I think,” Francois replies with some thought. “Grenades that were modular to do various things. But I do not know so much of what she designed.”

Contrary nods quietly, taking a moment after the pastry has been rewrapped to slide her back down to her side where she can easily put the wrapped treat in and close the flap again. “Right.. thanks.”, she says then. “So.. what happened to her? I guess.. she’s not around much? If she’s.. not working for him?” She tries to sound nonchalant about the question, but fails to pull it off.

Francois shrugs expressively, left hand coming o rest on the smooth globe of a pommelstone of his sword comfortingly as he walks. Looking up and at the fox he’s not yet heard named, “I am not sure that anyone knows, mademoiselle. I did not hear from or about her much before, and othing since the banishment of Mythos.”

Contrary hasn’t continued to walk again yet. “Oh.. well.. maybe she went looking for him.” A conclusion she doesn’t sound greatly convinced of herself. She frowns faintly and then turns toward the east abruptly. “Thanks.. I’d better be going.”, she says in form of parting, even as she starts to walk away down Center St.

Francois replies gamely, “Entirely possible. Au revoir mademoiselle, et merci.” Francois pauses to watch the overly large canid on her way, then shakes his head lightly and walks north on River and offers a big expresionate wave to someone down the street, though that someone must be too far away to warrant calling out.