13457/Sharing a meal, sharing information

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Sharing a meal, sharing information
Date of Scene: 07 June 2021
Location: Georgian Creeds - Westchester
Synopsis: Willow is treated to a nice meal, without even a single threat to boot
Cast of Characters: Hellequin, Willow Rosenberg




Hellequin has posed:
Georgian Creeds is not your ordinary restaurant, and it's not advertized anywhere. It's kind of a super private, VIP, place where you can eat fancy, home made, meals. Even without any form of advertisement, the place has a long waiting list.

That Henri de Fontainebleau - and the Hellequin by night - could secure a table for two is almost a miracle - but in his line of business, miracles happen. It also helps to have good connections with the local Archbishop.

Alphonso and Helene Diamonte rarely treat their customers on different standings, but they do make an exception for Henri. At the moment, they are chatting with Henri, who's wearing the best suit Paris can offer. They speak in a low voice, despite the fact that there aren't many customers.

"It is your hostel, Monsieur Diamonte, and God will guide your hand in preparing our meals. The only thing is, I suspect my invitee is... how do you call, it..." Henri cannot remember the word he's looking for.

"Vegetarian? Vegan?" offers Helene Diamonte.

"Oh oui, that's it. Vegetarian. Or Vegan." Henri smiles at that, "But you should not trouble yourself with me, I love meat, especially venison."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Meanwhile..

Willow had taken the bus close enough to Georgian Creed's and hoofed from there. Outside she caught the name (very plain) above the door. Like there weren't more than two places for the cars. And it looked exactly like a house.

She frowns, and reread the directions that he he, Hellequin, had provided her with.

"He must have gotten it wrong." Must have. "I'll knock on the door, and explain what I'm looking for." And with that she walked up the front door and rang the bell.

Hellequin has posed:
As soon as the bell rings, Helene excuses herself to go to the door, downstairs. This task is usally left to one of the few staff, but for some reason, the owner decided to do it herself. After checking through the judas, Helene quickly opens the door, a smile on her face.

"Please come in, Miss Rosenberg," she invites, stepping aside to let Willow come in, closing the door behing her. "You are just in time. Mister de Fontainebleau just arrived a few minutes ago. Follow me."

And then Helene leads to way upstairs, to the small area where guests can sit down for their meal. As the women come in, Henri turns to slowly incline his head in a manner - quiet outdated - to salute his invitee.

"I am glad that you accepted the invitation," he says, "It is not easy to find a quiet place to eat in this City," he adds, offering the same kind of salute to the owners, "And being allowed to eat here, is a privilege I am sure will be memorable. Monsignore Bellatrino's recommendation was only praises for your culinary skills."

Praises given to the hosts, Henri waves his hand toward the only table dressed for a meal. "Shall we?"

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Oh my gosh. What was this place?

Mrs. Diamante quickly ushered her in, and welcomed her. That Mister de Fontainebleau was here made it very clear that she had the right address, despite the outside.

When Willow was relieved of her coat and told to make herself comfortable, she was agog at the place. "It's like a living room, with a dining room attached. It doesn't look at all like a restaurant. It's.." And then she was hit with the cost this place must run. "I don't have enough money to pay." In a year.

How come this man who pretty much hated her brought her here? Wait.. he said something about nobody interrupting them? Gulp.

Hellequin has posed:
Although he's no empath, Henri cen sense a certain discomfort from Willow. Well, he might be close to a thousand year old, it doesn't mean that he's not still French and relishing on impressing his guests! With a faint smile on his face, he offers Willow a seat at the nicely dressed table, with porcelaine dishes, crystal glasses and silverware.

"I might need to be updated on manners," Henri says, with a tone that says quite the opposite, "But inviting someone means that you will pay for their meal. And I invited you. Now, if you tell me this is not the rule anymore, then I would say... hrm... shitbull as they say." Well, nice try - but failed - attempt at speaking the lingua franca here, but the meaning remains the same.

While he waits for Willow to sit down, he kind of feel like he needs to explain why he invited her, "The recent event at the park," he says, referring to the bridge collapse in Central Park and her rescuing the kid, "Persuaded me that I /do/ need to learn more about... about a few things. And I /do/," he emphasizes, "Hate to be interrupted. So here will be perfect."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow was mostly up on manners. "I can help you, but so far you seem to be on track." But when he made it to the swear.. she giggles and blushes. "The other way around. Bull.. you know.." She waves her hands. "Bull caca. See? The bull makes caca."

She sits. "These days the woman quite often splits the bill. And sometimes she takes it all. It depends? But this is a very expensive meal. You could have brought a pizza over to my place! But thank you." She frowns. "I don't eat meat though?"

And she frowns even more about the park. "It's kinda been weird lately. My power has grown. It was important that it did then, or else that boy would have drowned!" But she still was boggled about her powers.

Hellequin has posed:
Once Willow is seated, Henri proceeds to do the same, opposite her across the table. As they sit down, Helene follows, intent on lighting up the candles sitting on the middle of the table. Henri shakes his head, no, "Thank you, Madame Diamonte, this meal doesn't require the addition of candles." With an understanding nod, Helene pours iced water in their water glasses.

"I'll be right back the the entrées," she announces, then returns to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Henri considers the matter. In another attempt - this one at humour, he nods at Willow. "Very well then, bullcaca." Then a light frown appears on his otherwise nice face, at the mention of increased powers, "You know what I think about your... powers," he says, although not on a menacing tone this time. "As long as they are used for the good, well, I will have nothing to say about it." To /say/, here, has a meaning that Willow understands perfectly well.

As he was to add something, Helene returns with the entrées. For Willow, a goat cheese and spinach pâté, and for Henri, snails in garlic butter. Once that is served, and Helene returned to the kitchen, Henri wonders.

"How have your powers growned? Is it the doing of the Malin?"

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
She smiles at Mrs. Diamante. "Thank you." Apparently they got the message about her food preferences. When she is gone..

"Not caca. The other word that I don't say. You know.." Willow stares at him as though she could impart directly to his brain the real word. "People will not treat you with respect if you go around saying bullcaca. Trust me." Of course she doesn't explain why she says it.

Willow takes a bite and is pleasantly surprised. "They are nice! And I don't know. Tala told me to trust in myself. I'm trying. I have to put everybody's thoughts and judgements behind me and trust what I know inside of me. Who's Malin?"

Hellequin has posed:
With an understanding nod, Henri gets it, and won't use bullcaca. Of course, at night, he can get all the respect he wants from the evil-doers, but he also wants to be respected by daytime as well!

Proceeding to skillfully extricate a snail from its shell, then dipping it in the hot garlic butter, Henri seemingly enjoys his own meal. "Excellent."

Then it's Angelo's turn to appear, with a choice of red or white wine to accompany the main course. Unsure as to what they will eat, Henri decides, "Please, one of each. And white will be for the dessert as well." With a nod, Angelo proceeds to open the expensive bottles of wine - French wine only, thank you - then returns to the kitchen.

"The Malin," Henri then explains, his eyes narrowing at the thought, "Is the Devil, the one source of all ill and evil doers." This might be a Medieval concept, but it's Henri's. "And who is this Tala, pray tell? Instead of trusting in yourself, you would be better advised to trust in God to guire you. Or Yahweh as, if I recall correctly, you mentioned being of the Judaic faith. Which is the same, really, when it comes to God."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow waits till Alphonso is done.

"The devil? No." She thinks about how to explain it. "Inside of us is a part that reveres that which is good, and rejects things that are not. At least the kind of witch I want to be. But both of them are always inside of us. Good and Evil. Every day is a battle within to stay in the path that you have chosen. Every time I use magic, I have to ask myself, is this the right thing to do? When I do it correctly you would say it was Godly. I say my spirit is at peace with the universe. Do you follow?"

Hellequin has posed:
Henri listens attentively, visibly trying is best and honest effort to understand Willow's explanation. What she mentions is somehow not so strange in a way, as the same inner battle also exists in most sane people.

As he finishes his entrée of snails and gently pushes the dish aside as a sign that he is done with it, he thinks for a moment.

"Yes, of course, I can understand this," he says, "The only difference is, that I think it would be more advisable to believe in God before you believe in yourself." But this could become a round-around conversation, so Henri concedes, "As long as the aim is to do good, that is the most important part."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"Well you always think God is outside you." Willow nods."I believe that god is everywhere, including me. Where you are praying to God, and hope to one day be in His presence, I believe I am already in his presence and everything that I do is because I want to bring my spirit even closer to him."

Hellequin has posed:
And this is bordering on heresy, in Henri's mind! Inhaling deeply, and taking the time to think before reacting, he decides that arguing would lead to nothing, except maybe ruining a perfect meal.

And that's exactly when Helene reappears, with the main course for the guests. Asparagus omelette with creamy truffe sauce, with a side of spring salad and large bowl of Flemish beef with bread for Henri. The host then pours wine in their glasses, then retreats again in the kitchen.

And then, Henri makes an admission, "I pray to God comes morning and sunset," he says, "To guide me. And it seems that I need to pray more, my arm should not be misguided." As it is lately, he should add, but refrains to add this bit.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Mmmmm truffles. Willow never had them before. And surprisingly they were good!

"Okay. Why do you pray for sunrise and sunset? Everytime you pray, and raise your hand, don't you pray to your God to make certain you are doing the right thing? How is it so very different from me? We both pray that we are doing the right thing. When I die I hope to be One with the universe. It's not so different from you wishing to go up to heaven. I just believe that heaven is around us."

Willow is just to understand his point of view. Even if she was technically Jewish and didn't believe in heaven per se.

Hellequin has posed:
Good questions Willow raised. But of course, Henri has been asking himself the same questions for centuries.

"No, I do not ask God if what I'm doing is right," he replies, almost matter-of-factly, "Because, you see, since I can do it, it is because He allows me to it. I am his arm, in a way. I know it is /the right thing/, as you say. Otherwise, I would no be able?"

And then, maybe, Henri just linked the dots. In recent events, he has been unable to fulfill his task, so maybe, just maybe, while not doing the /wrong/ thing, he wasn't doing something deemed right.

Pretending not to think about it, Henri proceeds to honor his meal, a century old traditional Belgian dish of braised beef in dark beer. Perfect with a piece of crusty bread.

"Again, perfectly cooked. It tastes just as back then."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"But doesn't God allow you free will?" Willow tries to figure out what she thinks, and has another bite (or two) or omelette.

"In the Bible we are told that once upon a time, Adam and Eve used their free will, and because of that were thrown out. We were forever left outside of heaven because of it. All our lives are trying to become as close to Godliness as possible, but we still have free will. God can't and won't take it from us. So how can you say you can't strike with your hands, because God let's you? That's utterly and completely wrong."

Hellequin has posed:
Henri enjoys a few more bites of the excellent meal, dipping the bread in the tasty sauce. Time also for him to gather his thoughts.

"Oh, you have it wrong," he says after a time. "I do not use my /free will/, as you say. Not at all. My, hrm, targets are given to me by their magic. Dark souls beacon to me, so does magic. Magic is the doing of the Malin, so I do not need free will to destroy them. It's a godly mission. I am doing God's will when I annihilate them. So the problem doesn't reside with my free will. Rather, it seems, with the targets themselves." He then gulps down a very nice glass of red wine. "As it happened with you."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"But I did not do anything different. You came to me and you could not kill me. You were the odd one out. Right?"

As Willow talks she finishes the main course.

Hellequin has posed:
"I am still researching the matter," Henri simply replies, finishing his meal. "There could be many reasons, and God's ways are mysterious. If He sees fit to hold my arm, then so be it."

Helene returns at that moment - really well timed, isn't she - to remove the empty dishes, and place a large plate full of French pastries, most of the involving thick whipped fresh cream.

"Thank you, dear Helene," Henri says, "You outdid yourself, and I will be please to tell Monsignore that his praises were underestimates of your skills."

Helene smiles, happy of the compliment, then returns to the kitchen.

With a smile, Henri browses the variety of pastries, and gestures for Willow to chose the one, or ones, that she wants. "And you will bring the rest, as I, hrm, won't need to eat tonight." He's funny that way.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"Mmmm a tarte au pomme." Willow giggles. She knows it's just apple pie but she loves the way the name in french just rolls off her tongue. "I hope you'll get an answer soon, really I do."

Hellequin has posed:
Henri opts for a coffee cream filled éclair, and a chou à la crème.

"So do I, so do I," Hneri concurs. "Though, in the meantime, I always have busy nights, which means that evil still exists. As for an answer, well, I have all the time."

And thus the meal ends, and soon Willow will return home with a box filled with the leftover tarte aux pommes and éclairs, while Henri will go back to his nightshift duty.