Eiffel Tower

[The Exodus]

Welcome to the Eiffel Tower! The most iconic and picturesque building in all of Paris! It's been said that no matter where you are in Paris, you can see this building against the backdrop of the Parisian streets. Go there with your lover or ride of the lifts to the top for a birds-eye view of the City of Lights, and while you're up there, you can eat a fancy dinner in the revolving restaurant.

[plantnerd92]

Amorette Cheuvront

Though she loved dancing at the opera house, it was nice to have a day off from rehearsals every now and then. Walking onto the lawn of the park surrounding the famous Eiffel Tower, Amorette kicked off her shoes, and held them in her hand, enjoying the feel of the cool grass beneath her feet. It was a beautiful day, and the sun shone brightly, casting a golden halo on her pale blond curls.

A joyous giggle bubbled from her lips as she spun around a few times, and did a cartwheel, before falling back onto the grass, sprawling out with a contented smile as she soaked up the suns rays, thinking about all the things that had happened in the past week.

She had started a relationship with Wes Harlow. At first, he didn't really seem like someone she'd be interested in dating (For instance, he was in dire need of a haircut), but he'd grown on her, and she was willing to give it a try. Perhaps things would actually work between them. Despite their differences, Wes seemed to understand her, even though he knew nothing of her disorder. It was almost a huge relief to have that kind of understanding from another person. Regardless of whom it was.

With a peaceful sigh, Amorette closed her eyes with a contented smile. Things were starting to look up for her.

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

Ashton loved most everything about pregnancy; the idea that she and Lucian had created something-- a little person-- out of their pure and passionate (if a bit reckless) love; the looks love pride and love from Lucian every time he looked at her; the face glowing; the belly growing; the maternal feelings and the baby shopping.

And of course, there were things she didn't like. Like, for example, the back pains, the weight gain, the increase in shoe size, the idea of her father finding out and being angry, and the lack of dancing. Of course, her least favourite thing changed by day. Today, her least favourite thing about pregnancy was when Damien and Lucian shooed her out of the house while they worked on the nursery. They were determined to make this a surprise and used some sort of excuse about wood shavings and paint fumes being dangerous.

So Ashton was out and enjoying the fresh air. She looked up at the Eiffel Tower with a smile. She remember that day in May when she and Lucian climbed into the lift with an intention of making love high above the city in that tiny metal-caged elevator. But what they hadn't taken into account were the other members with their own intent of taking a different kind of ride. Ashton and Lucian hadn't gotten very far. She had managed, with her face red with blush and amusement, to rip away his belt. But in their haste, they left the lift and forgot it. She wondered if it was still in the elevator or if some staff member had removed it.

She took this opportunity to people watch. Sometimes, when she and Lucian went out, she would watch families and see how they interacted, wondering how she would be with her kids, how she would respond when they behaved like demons (which they were bound to if they were anything like their mummy). Then she would stop holding Lucian's hand and feel suddenly insecure. He had been a parent before. Granted, his eldest child was grown now, six months older than Ashton. But what if she did this wrong and he had to correct her all the time? What if they parented completely different ways? What if she looked like an amateur compared to him?

She took a deep breath and diverted her gaze away from all families (a difficult thing to do near the Eiffel Tower). Her hazel eyes finally fell on a blonde girl her age dancing around. Ashton hoped she would still do that: act like a kid even when she was a kid.

She smiled at the girl and waved, but stopped suddenly when she realised she recognised her. She waved again, more enthusiastically this time.

"Hi! You're the girl from the courtyard!" Ashton said, recalling how jealous she had been that the girl could still dance. But no resentment reared it's ugly head in her voice. "Sorry. I don't remember your name. How's dance?"

[plantnerd92]

Amorette Cheuvront

Amorette had sat up for a moment, looking out at the people that milled about the park, smiling as she watched the children playing. She was very much one herself, still, no longer a girl, but not yet a woman. Suddenly, a young woman waved at her, catching her eye. Amorette turned to look at her better, and recognized the other blonde. She smiled, and waved her over.

"Hi! You're the girl from the courtyard! Sorry, I don't remember your name. How's dance?" she asked, making Amorette laugh.

"It is Amorette, mademoiselle," she said kindly. "Dance is lovely, but rehearsals were cancelled today. Would you like to sit?" she asked, patting the spot next to her. "It's good to see you again! I've been longing to see a friendly face," Amorette told her with a smile. "How are you?"

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

"It is Amorette, mademoiselle," the woman clarified and Ashton wondered if she remembered Ashton's name. "Dance is lovely, but rehearsals were cancelled today. Would you like to sit?" Ashton stood from her spot on the shaded bench, the old wooden resting spot giving a sigh of relief as Ashton stood from it. She waddled over to Amorette and eased herself to sit beside her in the lush green grass, feeling the sun hit her face and the blades poke up between her fingers.

"How are you?" the other blonde woman asked.

"I'm doing so much better than I was last time. Things are really going great!" Ashton weaved two pieces of grass together in her hands. "What's new with you?"

[plantnerd92]

Amorette Cheuvront

"I'm doing so much better than I was last time. Things are going really great!" The girl said, as Amorette puzzled over what her name was. She knew it started with an A. She nodded with a smile.

"I'm glad to hear it... I'm sorry, I can't quite remember your name. Ashton... Is that right?" she asked, laughing in embarrassment.

"What's new with you?" Ashton asked, and Amorette shrugged.

"Not much. Just endless dance rehearsals and productions... And I recently have found myself in a relationship with Wes Harlow," she said, referring to his apparent previous membership of British boy band 'Radio Remedy'. Wes confused her sometimes. He acted so strangely at times, but then again, she really had no room to talk considering all the bizarre things she periodically found herself doing. Lost in thought, Amorette picked a few blades of grass and started braiding them in her fingers.

[Deleted]

OOC: Vincent and Evelyn. Warning: Mischief is a foot. BIC:

Evelyn Aldridge

The view from the top of the Eiffel Tower was breathtaking. It offered a glorious view of Paris at dusk, taking the focus away from the grittier, less savoury details of the crime, deceit and corruption on the ground floor. On top of the tower, Evelyn could superficially step away from her problems and soothe herself with the picturesque view. Paris from atop the Eiffel Tower was a great deal prettier than New York City, although Central Park was a fair rival. Evelyn closed her eyes and pictured the park in the fall. The trees would be losing their verdancy, turning red, orange and amber yellow now. People would start pulling their jackets close to their bodies and covering their hats over their ears soon.

It had been over two months since Evelyn had come back to Paris. Her New York routine had already been replaced with her current Paris routine, which was more languidly paced. It was pleasant and much-needed. She had needed to get away from the office to collect herself before she had a chance to burn out and melt down in New York. Her employees and co-workers did not need to see her an emotional, mental wreck. The image she exuded had to be of a strong, independent, level-headed, hard-hitting boss. She had fought too long and hard to be seen as a submissive, pushover subordinate woman. The work had been difficult, but the rewards had been great. The stress was maddening, but she couldn't imagine life any other way. This was her life. Her work was her life. Occasionally, however, she needed a break from it - a short break. She would be back in New York before long. The date hadn't been set yet, but she wouldn't worry about that now. She was here to relax, not worry.

Evelyn breathed in and let out a contented sigh as she folded her arms against the railing. Visiting the Eiffel Tower made her feel like a tourist. Really, it seemed only tourists visited the tower. Glancing around, she saw the touristy fare: men and women and a few children dressed in t-shirts, shorts and caps, toting backpacks and camera bags, speaking languages both familiar and unfamiliar to her. The monument was likely passé to the locals, who saw it everyday and took its famous image for granted. Similarly, the Statue of Liberty was no longer special in her eyes. The patriotism had dwindled, had been shortly rekindled with the 9/11 events, and then had leveled out again. Evelyn was a farcry from the flag-waving, chauvinistic fanatics who decried anything foreign and "un-American." To her the United States was only a country, not a beacon of enlightenment or-

Evelyn gasped as something behind her forced her torso forward and thrust head far over the railing. She yelled out as her feet lost the ground and her body fell over and down. The world blurred by and her mind and body reeled, kicking into adrenaline gear. Her hands flailed automatically and sloppily grabbed something. Her eyes wide and her chest heaving, she looked up at people running towards her. The railing was strong, but her fingers could only hold on for so long. She looked down. There was a landing several yards below her, but it was still a significant height. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! "Help!"

OOC: I thought this site was pretty cool. It shows a panoramic view from one spot on the third floor, so I based the scene off this. As for Evelyn falling and how she's positioned, I'll leave it for your interpretation BIC:

[plantnerd92]

Dakota Erickson

Breathing hard as he finally climbed up the last few steps to the top, Dakota decided that he really needed to exercise more. He leaned against the guardrail as he tried to catch his breath. When he could finally breathe again, he looked up, and grinned with surprise as he looked out at the view.

"Whoa! This is awesome," Dakota stated to himself. The only time he'd really seen a view like this, it was up at the lookout point at Buffalo Bill Cody's grave site, but even then, the scenery was entirely different. That was nothing but rolling country side. This was a city. He smiled thoughtfully, wondering what awaited him here in Paris. He missed his family, and hadn't really seen much of them since he went away to college, and now that he'd gotten his degree, he left the States to travel abroad. Neverless, he was looking forward to whatever the future held for him.

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Kenneth Dahl

“Oh, Kenneth! You just have to write at the top of the Eiffel Tower! It’s so inspiring. I do my best work up there.” Christiane’s words rung around in Kenneth’s ears. He trusted her words, she was the best writer in his Classic Writing Analysis class and if this was where her brilliant words were stemmed, then he was a fool to not climb up to the tippy top and get his work down on paper, taking in the scenery from such an altitude. It gave him just the push he needed to pick apart, analyze, and compare Shakespeare’s forty-sixth and fifty-third sonnets. He took in his surroundings, hearing nothing but the bitter, wicked wind and the constant scratch of his pencil on his paper.

And a loud "Whoa! This is awesome," from somewhere to his left. Kenneth looked with irritation, but understood. The sight was beautiful and those 13 million who beheld it were lucky people, indeed.

“Isn’t it?” He said in response. “It’s terrible how natives here take a few like that for granted.”

[blueeyeddevil]

Reese Cordova

There was something going on with Santiago that should couldn't quite get a handle on. He was acting out of character. Just over a week ago he had told her he wanted some time to himself and she had reluctantly given in, knowing that he must be going through some things and deserved some time to get things under control. But then this morning had called her up after not speaking to her for over a week and said he didn't know what he'd been thinking before asking her to meet him at the Eiffel tower because he had someone special he wanted her to meet.

So Santiago had a girlfriend?! Reese had to wonder if that was really what had been going down last week. Maybe his new girl had seen them together at some point and gotten the wrong idea. That made sense. In any case, Reese has agreed to meet him and his girlfriend here. She had missed Santiago dearly and wanted things between them to go back to the way they had been before. And she hoped she could get to be friends with his girlfriend too because that was the only way they could all get along.

She sat there now on a bench in front of the Eiffel tower waiting for Santiago and his girlfriend as she sipped at the coffee she had gotten. She felt all nervous about meeting the woman and and anxious to see Santiago again. She had this whole mess of emotions regarding this meeting and it was starting to make her feel all jittery and make her jiggle her leg up and down like crazy.

...she should not be allowed to have coffee.

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Santiago walked briskly down the streets of Paris. His ears were freezing cold, thanks to his new haircut. Paired with the scruff around his chin and cheeks, he scarcely looked like the same man who had pushed Reese away on New Year’s Eve. He wondered if she would hate the new look, which was augmented by slacks and a buttoned-down shirt he wouldn’t have worn except on pain of death.

At least the girl at his side didn’t seem to mind the new look.

Lola walked at Santiago’s side, silently watching the throngs of people with soulful, chocolate eyes. She didn’t say much, but Santiago valued quiet companionship. He’d known Lola was the one for him the instant he met her. They both came from the streets, enjoyed a good run along the Seine even on the coldest days, and had been born and bred as fighters.

It all started the day Catalina Reyes invented Detective Ortiz.

“He has a dog?” Santiago asked, staring at her over a mug of black coffee. “The hell you were thinking, Lina?”

“The devil’s in the details, Diego,” she snapped, stirring her own drink. “And say “I”, not “he”. You sound like a sociopath when you talk in the third person.”

“Yeah, whatever. Still a problem with your plan. I don’t have a dog.”

They’d argued for a solid ten minutes, no stopping, about the idea of Santiago with a dog., what sort of dog would suit him, and why it was so crucial he have a pet if he wasn’t going to acquire a wife and children before the week was out. He needed to seem human, approachable. Real. He had to blend in. And real people had dogs. Apparently. Santiago had been acutely unaware of that, but now it made sense. Until now, he hadn’t noticed how many people actually had dogs. He’d counted six since leaving his apartment.

Whatever the statistics were, Santiago had been forced to visit the animal shelter right after getting his hair chopped off. There, he’d met Lola and had fallen in love.

She had been sitting alone, watching a group of mongrels play-fighting. The other dogs were scruffy, whereas Lola was all sleek lines. She looked dainty, if big. Intelligent, too, as if a dog could be bored or jaded. Though, Santiago did wonder if she was some sort of cowardly thing, avoiding the teeth and claws of her companions.

Until some flea-bitten mutt tried to go for her tail.

She snarled at the dog, which was shorter than her, but twice as heavy, easily. The bulkier dog whimpered and backed off.

“That one,” Santiago said, pointing. “I want him.”

“Her,” the volunteer said. “Her name is Dolores. Somebody found her in La Zone Fonecee, scavenging in a dumpster.”

“Dolores?” Santiago echoed, scoffing.

“It means ‘pain’ in Spanish.”

Santiago looked at the volunteer with sarcastically glassy eyes. No, really? That’s so fascinating. I would never have guessed. Who named a dog Dolores?

“Because, well, she was bleeding. That’s how the guy found her. Vet says it was a knife. Someone got her on the muzzle. That’s like the nose.”

Santiago said nothing, but stared at Dolores. She looked back at him with those soulful eyes of hers. Santiago had always loved blue eyes and fiery hair. In his youth, anyways. Now, he felt his heart going if not soft, then at least warm, for this dog. He knew the neighborhood. Bennot territory. He could imagine them—the b*stards—tourturing some poor innocent animal.

“We figure she held her own. She’s a Rhodesian Ridgeback.”

“What?”

“They’re from Africa. Hound dogs. They used to fight lions. Don’t know how a purebred Rhodie got in the slums of Paris, but you see everything eventually, you know, man?”

“I’ll take her.”

He shorted Dolores to Lola, as Lolita sounded too Vladmir Nabokov and for the last five days, Lola had taken up residence in Santiago’s apartment. She’s make a good guard dog someday. The veterinarian had spayed her , given her shots, and recommended brands of dog food to Santiago. The last bit didn’t matter. Lola ate what Santiago ate. Meat, vegetables, sometimes rice. She woke when he did, before the dawn, and they ran the length of the Seine together, logging at least three miles in the morning and again at night, another three or four. He hadn’t realized he’d be an animal person—a dog person at that—but there was something about having someone waiting for him at night that made the prospect of living alone more bearable.

After all, it had been almost exactly a year since Rachel moved out. A little longer. It was time Santiago opened himself up a bit more. You start small, with a dog, for instance. Then with a friend.

He’d gotten a hold of Reese, apologizing for being out of his mind only nights ago, and telling her he had someone important to introduce her to. Reese likely thought it was a family member, after what he’d said. Family problems. Instead, he was introducing her to a dog. A bit of a let down, he supposed, if Reese expected a Santiago Junior or something to materialize. Santiago hadn’t decided what to tell her about his “family issues”, but he knew this much. Whatever else he said, he was telling Reese he’d been drunk out of his mind on New Year’s. It was believable, since she’d never actually seen him drunk. He was too ashamed to tell her the truth, that he couldn’t resist the siren call of the gang. He was also sworn to secrecy by Catalina, so even if he wanted to tell Reese, he probably couldn’t.

He worried she would hate him, for the disappearing act, or for the secrets. But she’d been willing to meet him, which boded well in Santiago’s book. And even if she railed at him, he’d deserve it. It was a risk he had to take. A life without risk was a life unlived.

The Eiffel Tower got larger as Santiago drew near. Lola looked up at him with her liquid eyes before bolting onto the lawn. Santiago wondered if she’d ever felt grass on her padded feet. Probably not. The animal shelter was largely concrete and barbed wire. A prison. Santiago had helped her in a jailbreak. He wished someone had done the same for him years ago when he fled Spain. Jesus, had it been five years?

He shook the thought and watched his dog cavort in the grass. His dog. He didn’t have much that was his. Never a living thing. He couldn’t believe how fond he was of Lola in such a short time. Speaking of fondness, he could see Reese on a nearby bench. A grin erupted on Santiago’s face and he sauntered to her, trying not to hurry his stride too giddily. He didn’t bother with such restraint when her wrapped his arms around her. She felt the same, that feather-light, but firm body, safe in his arms. She felt at home there, like that was really the only way to keep her safe. How stupid had he been, running off when she needed him? He wasn’t doing this again. Not if he could help it. Never again.

“I’ve missed you, querida.”

[blueeyeddevil]

Reese Cordova

It was a little chilly this early in the morning in January here in Paris. The leather coat she wore and the coffee she was drinking (and the movement of her legs) were keeping her warm enough for now. Still she sincerely hoped that Santiago and his new girlfriend would be getting here soon. Next time they met up like this she had to make sure that they met in an indoor place. It would just be more comfortable for everyone.

She looked up, suddenly beaming hopefully as she saw Santiago coming towards her. She rose as he approached and thew her arms around him as he embraced her. His arms felt just like she remembered, strong and comforting. The unspoken fear that he wasn't coming back and that he might not be showing up at all today vanished and she sudden relief she felt was so great that she suddenly was holding back tears. She buried her face in his chest the way she used to do to James whenever he came home from school...a little girl who had missed her big brother.

“I’ve missed you, querida.” he said and she smiled happily at the familiar endearment that she still wasn’t sure what it meant.

“I’ve missed you too! It feels like way longer a week,” she agreed with a small laugh. She glanced around, wondering where his girlfriend was as she tried to blink away the remnants of tears that had been threatening to fall. Wasn’t that the real reason they were here…for them to meet? “So where is this special lady I’m supposed to be meeting? Is she coming a little later,” she asked. “I have to make sure she’s good enough for you,” she said with a teasing smile.

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Reese felt so good against Santiago’s chest. Warm and soft, the way a girl ought to be. He shut his eyes for a minute, stroked her short hair. It was smooth under his work-worn hands. He didn’t want to forget this feeling, in case he ever decided to disappear again.

“I’ve missed you too! It feels like way longer a week,” Reese said with a little laugh as she pulled away. It really had. “So where is this special lady I’m supposed to be meeting? Is she coming a little later?” she asked. “I have to make sure she’s good enough for you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, grinning lopsidedly as he realized Reese thought he meant “girlfriend” when he said “girl” in his text. This would be fun. “Gotta get that stamp of approval. Little late for that.”

He couldn’t return Lola to that prison-pound. No matter what Reese thought of her, Santiago was giving that dog a decent home. Well, a better home than she’d known, anyways.

“She’s over there,” he said, nodding towards the lawn, where Lola seemed to be making friends with a young woman in a puffy jacket. Then, shouting, waving, “LOLA! Venga!”

Both woman and dog looked up. Lola, upon hearing her name, broke into a run that Santiago guessed could match pace with a racehorse. She loped over the barren lawn, leapt over the flowerbeds (accidentally trampling one with the touch down of her back legs) and bounded towards Santiago. She jumped up on her hind legs, nearly as tall as he was, and put her paws on his shoulders. Santiago scowled. The volunteer hadn’t told him she was a jumper; he’d have to train that out of her.

“Get down,” he said, pushing her back to her paws. Dogs weren’t people; they needed to know their place. Still, it wasn’t without affection, however gruff. Santiago scratched behind Lola’s ear and looked up at Reese.

“Hate to disappoint, but this is Lola, My new girl,” he said, grinning. “Got her five days ago.”

[plantnerd92]

Dakota Erickson

At his exclamation of amazement, Dakota looked up when a new voice reached his ears.

“Isn’t it? It’s terrible how natives here take a view like that for granted.” Dakota turned to see a man sitting on the bench closest to him, holding a tablet and pencil. Dakota assumed he was writing or something. He grinned, and nodded with boyish exuberance. He may have looked like a man, but he was still a boy in so many ways. His entire twenty-six years of life hadn't really done much to mature him to sobriety.

"Agreed. You don't really get a view like this back in Colorado. My name's Dakota, by the way," He said, extending a hand for him to shake. "Do you write much?" he asked, pointing to the man's tablet.

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Kenneth Dahl

Kenneth had planned on saying his piece unheard and continuing his paper. It was due tomorrow at 3 pm and he hadn’t the time to spare. "Agreed. You don't really get a view like this back in Colorado. My name's Dakota, by the way," the man said, extending a hand, which Kenneth took, smiling softly at him. “Kenneth.”

Okay, so they were introduced. He could get back to work.

But the man insisted on talking. “Do you write much?”

“Oh! This?” Kenneth asked, shaking his head. “It’s just homework.” He took his hand back and brushed orange hair out of his face, the wind brushing his paper off his lap, flapping away in the wind. “And now it’s gone!” He leapt to his feet. “Could you help me?” he called, scrabbling for the papers that threatened to propel themselves off the top of the Eiffel Tower like a heartbroken suicide victim, precipitating like a Shakespearean feather to the hard Parisian earth below. “It’s so important I get those back!” Kenneth swore to God that if this Dakota didn’t help him, despite being older and bigger than him, he would throw him off this tower, too.

Okay, that was a ridiculous thing to promise. Who was he even kidding?