Madame La Déchante meets Artemis

The pleasant warmth of summer was slowly
vanishing. Cold winds were beginning to ebb at the borders of the Society, but
the cloudy skies cast little more than chilling breezes upon the building. It
wasn't an overly unpleasant day, merely drab, plain.
In this season, a person might gaze out of
their window longingly, and to the one who had observed, it was easy to notice
a regular visitor that never made it past the doors. He'd been coming and
leaving for a few days by now, and the routine was strange, if nothing else:
the man would go as far as the doorsteps, but as soon as he would bring his
hand to knock upon the doors, his confidence - and his fixed smile - would
vanish. Hastily, he would turn on his heels and make his way back down the
streets. He'd be back the next day. He always was.
And he was here now; he stared up at the
imposing building with a hopeful smile, stray curls drifting in and out of his
view. Slowly, he stepped forth, a beat passing before he gingerly applies a
knock against the door.
Madame La Déchante: ( The door opens, revealing a woman dressed perhaps
a bit too elaborate for such a plain day. In her hand is a half eaten turnover.
)
À propos du temps
Decipherer:  In a
rare instance, the man's smile vanishes, a tiny, guilty frown forming in its
place. "Oh, miss, I'm sorry! I don't speak French."
Madame
La Déchante:  ( She switches languages
flawlessly- perhaps too flawlessly, her voice retaining a posh
French accent. )
At the very least you recognize it, that's more than most can manage.
Decipherer:  Artemis
merely giggles at this. "Why, thank you!"
Madame
La Déchante:  And I must say, it's about
time you knocked.
Decipherer:  Artemis
freezes up. "Pardon?"
== Obtained From ==
Gray Skies and Purple Guys
Category:Side Story
Category:Introduction Stories
Category:Haunting Pasts