Owner	Pose
Hellequin	Somehow, Henri de Fontainebleau - Hellequin by night - is convinced that he was chosen for a godly mission. One that dictates that he rids the World of evil doers, of those dabbling in the dark arts being at the top of the eradication list. This mission, even if really of a divine origin, isn't an easy one, as over the years - and more recently - Henri came to question its legitimacy or the actions it calls for. But even if his task can be difficult or even daunting at times, the Hellequin never refused to accomplish it. For centuries, over and over, at work at night, not complaining. Little did he know, but Henri would face more unpleasant missions, especially since his lost love - Heloise - had been rescued from the stake, thanks to Willow and Nick. Since her being brought back to him, Henri has helped her acclimate to the strange XXIst Century. Which is going fairly well. Maybe too well indeed. Today, Heloise sent Henri on a totally different mission, one of delivery. As he knocks at Willow's apartment door, Henri frowns. Even in his human, living form, magic reeks around him. "Fine. I will deliver this box, and be on my way," Henri tells himself.
Willow Rosenberg	Willow was pacing about her apartment that she once shared with Buffy. Eating chocolate chips cookies, and reading a book on fractals, debating whether or not to practise her potions this afternoon, or this evening. Until.. The door person called up and informed her that she would be getting company! "He's quite an older gentleman." In other words: What was he doing *here* and visiting Willow. For as long as she had lived here, her parents hadn't come to visit her. Could it be her father? Regardless, it sent Willow off in a panic. Who would come visiting in the middle of the afternoon? Between trying to clean off the couch, and put on clothes, while hiding her magic accoutrements.. she could got *zero* of them done by the time the mystery man knocked at the door. "Eeek! Who is it?"
Hellequin	While, like Heloise, Henri tries to keep up with the century they live in, the antiquarian has never been a fan of the telephone. Of course, their existence is known to him, but for the most of his life, Henri never wanted, or needed one really. He is still old school, from a time where you used your feet and not your fingers to get in touch with someone. So, he didn't call before dropping by. "I am the Angel of Death," comes Henri's low voice which can't hide his amusement at saying this, "And I come to." He pauses, frowning, "To deliver a parcel. Par la bonne Sainte Anne, it smells way better than this building." For indeed, Willow's stash of magic items in her apartment is starting to really annoy his nose. Facing this adversity, the Frenchman grins, raises his chin, and decides that he WILL accomplish this mission. Returning to Heloise without completing his task, would mean a long lecture on savoir vivre.
Willow Rosenberg	Double eek! Would he be able to come in.. wait.. of course he would. The next question would he want to? Scanning about the apartment she did a mental note. Buffy's stuff was mostly in her room, with bits and bobs having escaped. But surely he would be familiar with her stuff - mostly to take out the supernatural. Willow's stuff wasn't as innocuous as hers. Plus the walls and doors were crammed with wards and sigils. Sure, nobody noticed them - unless they were affected by the magic, or could feel or see the magic. Which is where Henri comes in: would he know the difference between good magic and bad magic? "Heloise? Ooo! How is she?" To this point Willow hasn't opened the door yet.
Hellequin	Sometimes, the simpler tasks seem to be the most difficult to accomplish. Right now, rolling his eyes and fighting an urge to sneeze, Henri is wondering why the door isn't yet opened. At this moment, he's also contemplating leaving the box on the doorstep and leaving. This, however, would not work as Heloise has specifically asked to know how Willow liked the, hrm, what's in the box. Which, frankly, Henri has no clue about. "Heloise is doing very well, considering. She even started to cook - and no, the store did not go up in smoke using the oven. Which brings me here, to deliver a gift from her." For a moment, Henri was tempted to say that if Willow didn't accept it within thirty seconds, he would leave and let Heloise know, which would make her feel very sad. But somehow, the Frenchman decided to refrain from being mean. What is the expression they use? Something about sucking it up, buttermug?
Willow Rosenberg	On the opposite side of the door Willow was going through her own set of 'should she or shouldn't she' conundrum. "Before I open the door, this apartment is warded to keep it safe for me and Buffy. I'm not going to apologise for that. Okay?" A pause. "Oh, I'm in my pyjamas." Of the two things, Willow makes it some that her pjs were the biggest problem!
Hellequin	Le sigh. No matter the century, thinks Henri, women remain the same. Very self-conscious of their appearance. But really, what is a pyjama compared to torn, dirty rags worn by most people in the Dark Ages? "Unless," Henri whispers to himself, "It has kabbalistic prints. Jesus save me." And, with a louder voice, Henri reassures Willow. "I do appreciate that you care for my health," he says, grinning at the idea of even having a health, "But from the smell of it, I can tell you that nothing in your abode is able to hurt me. At least, more than giving me a sneezing fit, that is." Looking up at the ceiling for a moment as if praying for a divine intercession, Henri adds. "All I need Willow, is for you to take the box, taste whatever is in it and survive long enough for me to tell Heloise how you liked it. That done, I will leave you to your pyjamas."
Willow Rosenberg	"Noooo.. it's just, I don't feel like explaining myself to anyone." He can hear the locks being unlocked. "Most people have locks to prevent the burglars for coming in. We are more afraid of things such as demons, and vampires, and werewolves.." To tell the truth, Willow had dated each of those, ahem. "Come in! Don't mind the mess. I have had a lot of courses with papers, and between that, jobs, and the Scoobies, I didn't worry about the mess. Well, until you knocked!" Willow giggled. "We try to keep our living space free of work. Well, the active part. You know."
Hellequin	Finally! The smile on Henri's face could be due to his joy at seeing Willow, or just for the door to be finally opened. Hard to tell. Stepping inside, it is clear on the Frenchman's face that he totally ignores whatever mess might be around. Willow's apartment will beat any peasant dwelling of his time and even the magic fumes he can detect around have nothing in comparison with the constant manure one of his youth. "I do not mind your apartment, Willow. If you like it, then there is nothing to comment about There," Henri says, smiling, offering the box to Willow. It is a very white box, but someone has taken the time to draw very nice flowers on it, and some happy looking birds. How can you tell that a bird is happy? "She cooked them herself, I helped her find the ingredients." In other words, he had been sent to do errands. It's a good thing that the groceries' opening hours coincide with his living hours. "She would love to hear how you like them." Then what? He doesn't know, because while cooking, Heloise - like most women of her time - will not accept that a man stays in the kitchen.
Willow Rosenberg	"Of course! Come sit, and tea or coffee? We can do either!" The box is treated with reverence, until she opens it. "I'll have to return the favour! I have just enough chocolate chip cookies to send to her! I could throw in some raisin oatmeal cookies? I've gotten better at them since I was a student and we had a section on potions. It turns out that the directions can be very important. Which is weird because the chocolate chips I know them by heart."
Hellequin	Henri doesn't show any indication of his intention to sit down - or find a place to do so! "Nothing to drink, thank you. I will not stay long." Looking inside the box, a bright smile appears on Henri's face as he recognizes one of his favorites: mistembecs! It takes all of his limited savoir vivre for him not to plunge his hand in the box and grab some of them. Knowing that there are more waiting for him, Henri refrains. "I hope you will like them," the Frenchman says, hinting that only part of his mission is accomplished: he still must return with Willow's appreciation. As for Willow's suggestions, they seem just fine. "Oatmeal would be fine, with chocolate. Heloise seems to have developed a found liking for chocolate." Indeed, there was no chocolate in Europe in their youth. Even sugar was exceptionally expensive and rare. Which reminds Henri that maybe Willow would like to know what the mistembecs are made of. Really, they look like donut holes, or Timbits. Those are made of simple ingredients and a lot of love," Henri explains, "Flour, yeast, a pinch of salt, water, oil and a lot of honey. That simple."
Willow Rosenberg	"Ooooh!" To Willow, they looked like small little donuts, with a dusting of icing sugar. Only misshapen - like all good homemade were. She popped one into her mouth. And began to mmmm and ooohh, so good! "You have to try some while I get a tupperware for you to bring back!" Putting the box in his hands, she disappeared into the kitchen. "I'll put both kinds. But really my best isn't oatmeal. They're edible these days. Once upon a time they were sort of like door stoppers, and had no taste. Be glad you didn't know then!" "There. For Heloise! Two kinds of cookies." Willow was proud, handing them over, once she got back into the living room.
Hellequin	Willow was too quick and by the time she returned with the container of cookies, she caught Henri munching a couple mistembecs. No, he's not flushing of having being caught indulging in the light pastries. "I am glad that you like them," Henri says, visibly relieved that she does, "As for your oatmeal problem, Heloise knows everything about oatmeal. I am certain that she could direct you in the use of the best brand and how to condition it for the best results." If there is one thing that Medieval people knew well, it was oatmeal! The a frowns appears on the man's face, quickly vanishing. "I just thought that we could invite you to a real meal at our place, for dinner. But, hrm, as we know, I am unavailable for eating at the night meal. Maybe a noon meal? I know that Heloise would love to have you for a meal." And to chat, gossip about him, exchange recipes, and everything two young women like to do around a meal.
Willow Rosenberg	Willow watches his face. "Do /you/ want me to accept? I don't have to. I know that I'm not your favourite person. Really, it's enough that you asked."
Hellequin	That is indeed a good question. Really, he only wanted to slay her the first time, after that, he thought she understood that he had changed his mind. "Willow," Henri says, "I am a lot of things, and have my faults. But I praise myself to not be a liar or an hypocrite. I am inviting you because it would please me, and Heloise, to have you to share a humble meal." He grins at that, "And no, rest assured, I will not be doing the cooking. Maybe the hunting..." Oops. "No hunting. I will tell Heloise to prepare a meatless meal, which, as you may guess, we are used to." On that, Henri nods and steps back, the container of cookies in hand, and soon departs so to not be caught out by sundown.
Willow Rosenberg	Willow broke out into a smile. "I wouldn't advise you to eat some of those things that you hunt! Even if I ate meat.. eeew." She shivers. "Then I would love to join you and Heloise for lunch. Should I bring wine, or dessert?" She looks thankful that he remembered that she doesn't eat meat! "You know.. I mean.. we kind of look for the same creatures.." Sometimes. "If you wanted some help, we can.. well, I can offer you my services. I know alot about supernatural beings. If you wanted. Think about it."
Hellequin	Hearing her words, Henri stops just long enough to nod at Willow. "amazingly enough," the Frenchman says, "I have thought of this before. There must be a reason why my arm was stopped, and maybe this is the reason why. This would require some common understanding and tweakig of techniques, but it could be possible." And on that, Henri really needs to go, as the last rays of sunshine will soon give way to night.