13039/A Night in Paris

A Night in Paris
Date of Scene:	16 April 2021
Location:	Paris, France
Synopsis:	The fine city of Paris is visited by Dracula and Wanda ends up coming across him at a street cafe.
Cast of Characters:	Dracula, Scarlet Witch

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Dracula has posed:
The shadows are stretching long as the daylight fades into dusk. The sun is sinking in the western sky, and the colours of the sunset bleed up to spill across the clouds. The clouds are grey and heavy, hanging low and promising rain for overnight. There is a bit of clearness to the west which allows the setting sun to cast its light. There's a certain heaviness within the air that echoes that promise of rain, along with a bit of a chill to tease across any bare flesh that happens to be exposed to it.

And there is the city. Paris. It is a city of lights and a city of wonders, the city that is known for the Eiffel Tower, among other things. But like many cities, it is also a city that has a certain darkness to it.

There is an outdoor cafe along the street, out of the way of the foot traffic. It is at this outdoor cafe where Vlad has settled himself. He sits at a chair that belongs to a table for two, and he has his legs crossed at the knee. The fact that he's seated makes his height less noticeable. His hair is black and neat, tidy, falling past his shoulders. There is a mustache and a goatee, both of which are trimmed and neat as well, a fastidiousness of nature that has had centuries to be honed. His eyes are blue, and he wears a button-up shirt to match their hue. Black slacks, black leather shoes, and a black peacoat round out his outfit. He has a newspaper, partly folded up, resting on his uppermost leg, and one of his hands rests atop of it. He's been reading it, off and on.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
The weather doesn't seem bother the redhead walking down the street. Her long hair falls partially down her back and partially over her left shoulder. She wears a dark tan leather overcoat, the tan bearing hints of burgandy to it, giving it an interesting hue. Beneath, a black teeshirt can be glimpsed occasionally as the coat parts. She wears a pair of black slacks and heels in the same color as the coat.

Wanda Maximoff's green eyes glance here and there as she walks along. Coming up to the outdoor cafe now. She pauses there and steps into the line. May as well order something to drink and maybe a little something to eat. When she orders, her French accent is decent. Though she doesn't seem to be entirely fluent in the language, she clearly knows enough to get by.

Dracula has posed:
Slightly, Vlad tilts his head a touch to one side as his attention is caught by the redheaded woman. He can sense the magic within her, and it lures his curiosity to her. She is pretty, quite pleasing to look at, but she is more. His blue gaze follows the movements of her as she heads for the line up at the cafe. He remains where he sits rather than to approach her. Softly, he picks up the newspaper from where it rests, flips it to fold it in half, and then sits forward to place it on the table.

Before sitting back, he picks up his cup of coffee, and then he takes a sip of it before bringing it to rest upon his uppermost knee. He drinks, and eats, more to make himself fit in than for many other reasons. There's a small plate with a croissant sitting on the table as well, the croissant having been at least partially eaten. He listens closely, for what she says and for how she says it, to hear what she orders.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
Wanda Maximoff really looks the part of a witch with her red hair and green eyes. The fact that there's almost no magical signature detectable to her might give the impression that she's a dabbler in the art of witchcraft. And she certainly fits the part.

After she gets her order, also a croissant, but with ham and cheese on it, as well as a cup of good tea, Wanda turns to look for a table.

Her eyes alight upon Vlad's countenance. One red tinted brow arches up, and she walks with a purpose toward his table. "You're interesting," she says, still in passable French.

Dracula has posed:
Vlad has perhaps learned the value of not judging a book by its cover. He has met a great number of people over the course of his lifetime, and he has spent a fair amount of time in studying magic as well as practicing it himself. There is a hint of a smile that teases the corners of his lips as he hears her place her order, but he says nothing. The pronunciation was slightly off, but it had not been far off from entirely accurate.

The Count turns his blue gaze to her as she comes to his table, and he faintly tilts his head a touch to one side. "Am I?" he suggests, the words in fluent French but the accent of his voice is definitely not native to France. "And here I had thought that you were the interesting one, not I," he comments. His voice is rich and deep. He lifts his left hand and gestures slightly towards the seat opposite to him. "Sit, if you wish," he offers, inclining his head towards her.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
Slightly off, but definitely passable. "You are," she agrees with his question. Wanda chuckles at his comment. "I never said I wasn't interesting." This is pointed out in an amused tone of voice. "But you have to admit that you're quite interesting too. I love," she says, putting a little emphasis on 'love', "What you've done with your hair. The color is quite nice." Is she really talking about his hair being nice?

At the invitation, Wanda nods. "Sure, I don't mind." She sits her food down first, then sits as she's sipping the tea. The cup follows, and she reaches for her sandwich to start munching on it. "Kinda digging the nails, too."

Dracula has posed:
"I will have to take your word for it," comments the Count, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He settles back, then lifts his cup of coffee to take a sip of it whilst he watches her steadfastly. "This is a true thing, you did not say such," he affirms, inclining his head towards her. One of his eyebrows quirks up a touch at her comment about his hair. "It is nearer to what it once was," he comments, sounding a touch amused.

There's a glance towards the food that she sets down, and then he takes another sip of his coffee. He doesn't seem bothered by her observations. "The esthetician offered a variety of colours, but I felt that bare was the most fitting," he says, giving a soft chuckle. He might be telling the truth or he might not be, it's hard to tell.