French Civility

Who: Rey, Pandect and Grayson
Where: Babylon
When: evening

The evening was cool, the sky loosing the last purple blues over the tops of the stores of Marquette and the moon was plumping itself up in the corner of the evening sky. It was beautiful and peaceful and it helped settle Pandect down, made him calm, made him think clearly. At least clearer. He thought he had done the right thing this afternoon, it felt like the right thing to do. It gave him a sort of weird symmetry. Pandect left his family because they didn't want him while Dylan went to find his for the same reason. It made him feel a little better, as much as he was feeling achy that there was that sort of hope in someone in the world. Or it just could be blatant stupidity. Either way, it had been done. And Pandect was still a little unsettled by it, like something had tried to lift him up and shift him. So he had sat, staring at the bathroom mirror in his room at the motel, the one with the long curving crack from top right corner to bottom left and that knot of scar tissue at his collar bone. He hadn't done it on purpose, his eyes just kept going there, until he had given up and pulled on his sweater (the one the demon had used in the back of his truck had been burnt) and started walking.

He moved quietly down the sidewalk. He knew how to look contained, separate, how to keep people away from him (after his first week in Marquette he wasn't sure he could stand meeting any more new people) and the townsfolk sort of dodged around him (not that there were too many people, this was a small town). He sniffled once, absently, he was too lost in his thoughts and went further into town.

That sniffle? That was the unseen presence of Rey Delacourt. He was watching, waiting for a chance to confront Pandect, keeping sharp old eyes open for the battered pickup he'd seen the man drive off in. And while Rey wouldn't admit to it if asked, he hadn't planned on finding Pandect tonight. No, tonight was just a moment of circumstance favoring him it seemed. He'd been in a fury when Rafael had told him of meeting Pandect, of Pandect hitting the younger Delacourt, and Rey had nearly lost himself to the anger as he had for Chelo. But this wasn't going to be an act of passion, oh no. This man (whatever he was) would twist.

Still, the point was that he hadn't expected to find Pandect so easily. He'd gone instead to seek out Babylon once again, thinking that a fine wine and maybe a chat with Mathias would help gather his wits. He had an odd symmetry with the bouncer, after all. But when he'd seen Pandect's truck? And the man himself? Rey had pulled his old French revolver from his car, hiding it under his coat before starting towards the fellow Frenchman. "Bonsoir, Monsieur Garnier!" he called with far more zeal than he really felt, keeping his stride neat and even as he approached with the weapon hidden.

Pandect sneezed absently, and moved his shoulders up automatically. Of course. "Monsieur Delacourt," he nodded sharply to the side and increased his pace. He didn't bother looking back to see the man, just shifted his hands in his pockets and started looking for a convenient place to make a u-turn. He knew what this would likely be about. The enfant terrible. He sneezed again, into his handkerchief.

Stepping quick to match Pandect's pace, Rey refused to jog after the man just yet. Pandect was spooked by him, rushing in like that would make him run. And with the glow of Babylon nearby? The last thing Rey wanted was to chase his prey off. "Join me for a drink?" he asked after Pandect politely, slipping a hand to the grip of his gun. Maybe the man was here to deal with the Delacourt brothers, maybe he'd relish the opportunity to get in close. Doubtful, Rey mused, running his fingers along the fine craftsmanship of his weapon.

Sneezing again Pandect turned his head to look at Rey Delacourt, his eyebrows revealing his disbelief while the rest of his face was carefully passive, "Is there anything I have done to make you think I'd like to join you for a drink?"

"Nothing you have done, no," Rey answered with a shake of his head and a dangerous smile hinting at his lips, "Though we are close to an anniversary, no? Paris?" He sauntered a little closer, stepping around Pandect's side as Rey drew his coat open just enough to show the grip of the pistol in his hand. "What has it been... sixty two years? It would be a shame if I poured your wine through a hole in your throat," Rey purred, thumbing back the revolver's hammer in the initial silence following his words.

Pandect body shifted, he was still tense, but his shoulders dropped, his head tilted, his eyes narrowed. "Oui, I had thought you had forgotten," his voice was stiffer, almost sterner. "To tell the truth I hoped you wouldn't remember. But such is life, isn't it? I suspect this has something to do with your brother, I can only imagine what he told you, I was treated enough of his opinions myself."

The fear he felt dealing with a demon had faded, he still had the memory of sweet Kels laid open in front of him, how angry he had been that he had to be the one to see it instead of Mache (Mache was supposed to be the big brother, Mache should have to carry around this memory, not him), but the attack on his own person had faded into a back ground flutter, the memories purely clinical. He wasn't afraid. "I imagine you have a place in mind?"

"Oui," Rey answered with a curt nod, inclining his head across the way towards Babylon. He made no movement beyond that, clearly wanting Pandect to lead the way. "And I do not forget, my friend. How could I forget the War?" Rey took a slow step forward, letting himself smile more fully at Pandect, a cold sort of expression that spoke of relishing the memories. "You remember the mornings? The bodies being pulled from bordello and tenement? The children fleeing from every adult, not knowing if we were occupiers or liberators and trusting neither?"

He breathed deep in nostalgia, eyes narrowed on Pandect. "I prayed such days would never end, but all things must. This is my station, after all. Endings. Mine and my brother's... you should not have touched him, Garnier. He is a rare blossom, not meant to be disturbed by you. However, tonight is not for the settling of that offense. Come, join me for a drink, no harm shall smudge the grime from your cheeks. They have an excellent Bordeaux here."

Pandect tilted his head to the side. "I suppose at least I should admire your honesty." Pandect hardly remembered those things about Paris. He remembered defiant hope like steel in people's eyes. He remembered the gentle hands of strangers enfolding orphans, he remember freedom fighters and doctors. The simple, almost sacred way the French stood with straight accepting backs. Yes, it was horrible, filthy, and the taste of fear saturated the air like blood, but that only made the people of Paris shine brighter in contrast. Somehow though Pandect didn't think Reynald would agree. He wanted to tell Reynald that he would never have harmed Rafe, not unless someone else was in danger, in some perverse way he understood Rey's love for his brother, what love a creature like him could have. Pandect had been without family, he knew how precious a younger brother could be.

He wasn't sure he could do that to someone else. Not even a demon.

Somehow he doubted a heartfelt confession would settle well on Reynald, the demon was more likely to shrug Pandect's words off. "Tonight is for the memories then? Vive la Guerre? You said you would miss it." Pandect walked alongside Reynald, sneezing sharply once every few steps. This was going to get old fast.

"I knew I would from the first day," Rey agreed, moving steadily towards Babylon. "There is order even in chaos, no? Nowhere did I see it so truly." He wasn't a soldier, but he'd thrived in the infected heart that Paris had become. He'd honed his craft there, learned subtleties he still used to this day. "As for tonight? Perhaps for memories, perhaps for answers," he offered enigmatically as they reached the building, nodding for Pandect to head inside first.

Pandect have done this a few times before, been held at gunpoint and he figured, well he was plenty old, he had done plenty, he didn't particularly want to die, but then he thought Reynald had a plan for tonight. He stepped in the doorway of the club and fought the urge to tense. The good new was that his sneezing wasn't quite so frequent, the bad news was that his throat was starting to itch. There were more demons in here, enough to permeate the place. Soak into the floors and furniture.

There was no benefit to giving into panic though. He had been shot before, sure it hurt, and it made him feel like one big flayed nerve, but he could survive it. There was no need to worry to terribly about that, in fact Pandect rather suspected Reynald would wait to kill him until he had time to rip Pandect open. Savor the experience. And as long as he kept a cool head and his wings tucked in tight, there was no need to let any one know he was an angel. Especially not Reynald. Pandect didn't need more fuel on that fire.

While he kept his mind off his situation with those comforting trains of thought his body steered him toward a more private corner, waiting for further direction from Reynald.

For his part, Rey had given just a bit of berth to Pandect as he caught a server crossing the floor and offered a few bills of cash. "A bottle of the '90 Bordeaux, white," he instructed, nodding towards the corner Pandect had steered towards, "The rest is yours, of course." It was Mathias' choice from their earlier encounters, and Rey had to admit that the other man had been right. The wine was a delightful bouqet, one he'd disregarded due to the year initially. That was a dangerous habit, brushing things aside. He'd done it to Pandect sixty years prior, assuming the man to simply be a silly patriot in love with his ideals, and now here both were.

Curious, he mused as he turned back to the angel, bringing both hands into clear view to show that his gun was no imminent threat. "After you," Rey said, nodding towards the nearest table that was still somewhat removed, "You may run if you wish, though I'm told the security here treats many outbursts the same." Which was a smoothly told lie, all he really knew was that Mathias was some kind of security.

"Why run?" Pandect said coolly. "It would just happen some time later." He settled in in one chair as self contained as ever, "You like to take things apart too much. I'd much rather you pick at me now so we can get it over with." He looked around the bar, Babylon tensely, this wasn't the sort of place he would choose to go under his own steam. But it seemed to be the sort of place Rey would frequent... Oh dear. "This wouldn't happen to be a brothel, would it?"

"They offer that service," Rey confirmed with a smirk, sitting across from Pandect and adjusting the collar of his suitcoat slightly, "I do not partake. I am simply a fan of something better than the pisspot swill these townfolk drink, and Babylon has yet to disappoint when I desire something... particular." Like a captive sharing a drink, perhaps. Rey knew the place seemed to appear randomly, but had it shown up here because Pandect would be here too? It was something to consider if he ever met Eris. "And if you'd rather move beyond the nuance of conversation, perhaps you will simply sate my curiosity. How is it you are still here, old friend? Are you some manner of fiend, perhaps? One of the undead?"

Pandect was very, very proud he didn't tense. Although he had to resist the urge to check with his fingers and see if his eyebrows had given him away again. That was the question of the hour, wasn't it? That was the question of his whole strained life as a man who couldn't settle down. He was tempted to a take pause, take a moment to sip his wine, irritate Rey, but he didn't think angering Rey would give him the advantage. The demon wouldn't get careless in anger, not until he had time to work up to it at least. Pandect suddenly felt old. Too much experience, too much irritation, but this line of questioning was something he would have to expect, he hadn't run. "People seem to have been asking me that all week. Surely someone of your..." (the dramatic pause was ruined by a sneeze) "particular nature can understand that some people just stick around a little longer than others."

That would hardly sate the other Frenchman's curiosity, it was only a stopgap, Pandect knew in a battle of wits he would likely lose. He would not, could not lie, and that seemed to be the only way to win Rey's little game of cat and mouse. But distraction might help him nearly as well. He took a moment then, after he had spoken to try the Bordeaux, it was very nice, as little as Pandect took opportunities to drink, he could still appreciate. "Good choice," he offered a small salute with his glass.

"And yet you are no demon," Rey observed, the hint of a smile dancing over the edge of his glass before he took his first sip. His smile grew with refined appreciation as he lingered in the hints of flavor dancing across his mouth, finally swallowing with a sigh. "Ah, if only the rest of France remained so pure, no?" he asked, sipping again and setting his glass aside. "Regardless, I do understand that the constraints of time do not hold each of us the same, and this is what piques my curiosity. You have assembled a life, Pandect. You have trails of paper, details in their systems, that detail you." He sat forward, bracing an arm on the table and giving a predatory look to Pandect. "This is the effort of a man, or being, who lives with humanity, not simply among them. You are perhaps a witch? Or am I so humored by the cosmos as to know something more... divine?" he guessed thoughtfully.

Pandect laughed sharply, like it had been surprised out of him, his hand going without him realizing it to hide even that small brittle smile in a quick little flicker. "A life? Is that what you call it? A few sheets of paper? You think a couple names, a few details has anything to do with my life? Do I look like I'm living with humanity? Or has having a brother close at hand to anchor you down made you forget what its like to move, not to belong any where?"

He leaned back in his seat, his hands loosely folded across his chest, not so much a defensive measure as something to stop him from gesturing or making any more of a fool of himself than he just had. "What is it you want me to say?"

Rey had sat through the outburst, the defensive words, with just a gradual curl to his lips. It was an expression he sometimes didn't use for days, but Pandect was so delightful of a distraction that Rey couldn't help himself. "I want you to say you love them," he said at last, "To justify the dirt on your clothes, the fact that you drive a vehicle older than either of us appears to be." Rey raised his glass in salute, taking a long drink and claiming the bottle to refill his glass delicately.

"I know the repetition of changing locales, I assure you," he went on, "But you and I differ in the feel of it. I belong everywhere, because I recognize my place in this storm of life and death. That recognition frees me, it gives me ease in preying on these cattle. They cannot know what lives we lead, and I cannot bother to know theirs. But you? You squander this gift, you strike me as a man to see it as responsibility, and that is so attributable to one who believes in things as simple as 'good' or 'evil'."

Pandect rolled his eyes, if Rey called him a girl he'd sound like a weird sort of anti-Mache, except for the simplicity of good or evil thing. Mache had been all over 'good or evil'. Him or anyone who disagreed. But still, Pandect's dodging technique #2 (number one was moving across the country) failed. So much for that. "Nothing is as simple as good or evil Rey. And my gift as you put it is no more a responsibility to me than breathing is. Its just something I do. But you want me to say I love them? Who, which one? The whole of humanity? Some one specific? Point and I'll tell you, simple as grade school, circle yes or no." He settled back with his glass (two for two, he only drank as much as Rey) and raised his eyebrows in question.

"The whole of humanity then, oui," Rey decided, nodding curtly and nursing his second glass. It was damned fine wine, and it'd be a shame to drink it all so quickly. "For all the terrors they inflict on each other, would you still fight for their ideals as you once did? Take up arms in the name of their gods or governments? Devoting yourself to a cause that cannot matter to one such as you or I, surely that is love in some sense, no?"

"If the need was great enough, yes. But men have always inflicted terrors on each other. They did when men first started being men, and they will up until the end of time. Life has amazing equality that way. Everyone has the chance to make horrible mistakes, and everyone has the chance to do great things. and that too will never change. It's not my place to make that judgment call," he shrugged. "If that's what you call love, then I suppose yes, I do have love for them. I admit I never really thought of it that way before. Congratulations, you've given me a minor epiphany. So is that it? Can I go now?"

Pandect took another sip and let the wine sit comfortably on his tongue. It had been quite a while since he had good wine.

Rey's expression was edged with dark amusement, his head ever-so-slowly shaking from side to side at Pandect as he considered. "If you wish to, please," he answered, gesturing with his free hand back towards the door, "Skulk off to your hovel, wherever it may be. Live your life as the epitome of what these savages consider the French, Garnier. Be humble and assenting, meek as you are now. But mark my words." Rey took a long draught of wine, pouring one of the last splashes errantly into his glass. "The day will come when you will not require me to remind you of the past, you will be immersed in it once more. These people will die, their fellows will haul them in the streets, pack them in drifts of snow. The children will starve, the women will weep as they know their infants would deserve death more than this life. And you? You will have your love tested once again, while I will simply know it is the cycle of things."

Pandect smiled coldly, his hand moving unconsciously to cover it in a quick gesture, he bit off the words that wanted to boil out of him. It wouldn't change anything. He waited until what he wanted to say died behind his teeth. Rey thought World War II was bad for Paris? Pandect had barely escaped in time for Paris to float in its own blood, occupation was nothing. He could deal with weeping. He could deal with death. His brother had been laid open in front of his eyes. "That's all then?" he said, his voice drifting into a more ragged register, he controlled his fury. Drowned it and drifted away from its corpse more composed, but it had a few frail hooks still in him. "No vague threats concerning your brother, no final show of force. No warnings to stay away? You're telling me what I already know," he leaned forward, memory of red and ripped feathers (the demons couldn't see what they had done to his brother's wings but Pandect could) pulsing behind his eyes. This was a demon. A demon. "I hate to be the barer of bad news Rey but you're going to be stuck in the cycle right with me and you won't even have love to help you get through it. You're going to lose everything. But don't worry that's just the cycle of things."

He scooted his chair back to stand up.

You're going to lose everything. Why did that sting so greatly? Rey refused to believe it could be true, to even consider that Rafael would've abandoned him for that woman if Rey hadn't ended her life first, but the words still stung his pride on some level. He stood up quickly, chair squeaking across the floor as it slid out from under him, and one hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle as Rey's eyes flashed with something terrible, something he made no effort to hide. "My threats are no vagaries to be deciphered, mon ami," he said in a low tone, feeling his unseen tail curl tightly around his leg and squeeze, "You harmed my kin. If you were less of a wretched beast and had any of your own in this town? I would drown them in their own blood. As it stands? When the time comes, you will wish this whole town was razed, so that you did not suffer alone." He was itching to swing the bottle, to smash it against Pandect's head regardless of how crass and base such a thing would be. But Rey knew that just because he hadn't seen Mathias, that didn't mean there was no security watching him.

Pandect leaned across the table, one narrow fingered hand clamping down Rey's wrist, holding it there, making no effort to really hurt him yet. "You're right," Pandect said in all honesty. "I am wretched. I am alone. And I have no doubt that its very likely you will think up new and delightsome ways to make my death rather horrible, and I'm prepared for that. But I never did any violence to your brother, I would never do such a thing. I know what you are," Pandect spat out. "I know what you're capable of, I don't doubt its terrible. But I would never, and will not lay a hand on your brother." Pandect leaned forward with stark vehemence, "You love him mon ami and that, as you pointed out, is something I understand very well."

In the old days, there were rules of conduct. Declarations of war, meetings between emissaries, rules of engagement, even the throwing of a gauntlet between two men. Rey never ceased longing for those old times. He didn't say a word to Pandect, feeling his blood burn with the accusation that he loved his brother. It was laughable, really; the younger Delacourt was simply an unending distraction, but the insinuation was a grave insult. His free hand plucked up his glass of wine, swirling the lonely splash still within before tossing it past Rey's lips. He fixed a dangerous stare on Pandect as he set the glass back on the table and quite abruptly spit the mouthful at the other man. "If you understood me in the least," Rey growled, a dribble of wine running from one corner of his mouth, "You would have run when you had the chance."

Reynald was right; just because he couldn't see any specific member of the security force at Babylon, that didn't mean he and his companion weren't being watched. And they most certainly were, by the werewolf behind the bar, in particular. His purpose at Babylon was two-fold, essentially, as it had been from the beginning when Eris had hired him more or less on the spot after he'd come in to ask a few questions and take a look around; he was there to 'bounce the bar' as Eris herself had put it, and bartend as and when needed. Being a werewolf meant he had tools others lacked when it came to watching a busy room like this one, and honestly as soon as the two men had walked in, Grayson had been able to read the tension between them loud and clear; it practically radiated outward from them in fierce, pungent waves, and he'd even grimaced a little, reading the rough intentions before anything had even come to a head.

The second things started taking a sour turn, tempers visibly fraying, he had known that there was only one way the encounter would end if there was no intervention on his part. True, someone else on staff might see it, but this was part of his job, and he fully intended to do it to the best of his ability. Leaving the bar, behind which he had been watching the pair, he cleared the room quickly without even breaking into a run, maneuvering around and between the patrons easily and smoothly, exuding the confidence of a born predator with every motion. Reaching the pair, the first thing he did, without hesitation, was take a firm grip on the wine bottle and remove it from the man's grasp, not even so much as disturbing the hold they had on one another, saying as he did so, "Whatever this is, take it outside. Right now."

Pandect straightened up and tensed, releasing Rey's wrist. He got out his handkerchief slowly and carefully, obviously reimposing his self control, and by the time his face was clean it was also calm and composed. "Of course," he nodded. "A later date then?" he asked Rey, his expression as unruffled as if the two of them had been discussing the weather instead of about to be at each other's throats. He was very good at that expression. He'd had practice.

Rey didn't even look to Grayson as he arrived, though he was more than aware of the large man's presence. It was hard not to be, really. "Indeed," he said to Pandect with a curt nod, reaching up to wipe at the corner of his mouth, "We shall settle our affairs, rest assured." his head canted slightly in Grayson's direction as Rey's temper still coiled and snapped inside him, begging for some way to lash out. "Take two steps back," he said Grayson's way with a distasteful expression, "You smell of well liquor and spilled beer."

Grayson wasn't convinced that this -- whatever 'this' was -- was over between the two men, but that was none of his concern. So long as they took it out of Babylon and away from the vicinity of the club, then that was all that mattered. The werewolf kept his gaze on the one who had been gripping the bottle rather than the one with the handkerchief, the animal in him labelling the former as the bigger threat. "Occupational hazard," he returned in a cool tone, standing his ground and refusing to be cowed by the tone or the posture of the man who had issued the command. There was a part of him, somewhat juvenile though it seemed, that yearned to ask the man if he wanted to hear what he smelled of, but he bit it back and held it in.

Pandect saw the quick flicker of something that might have grown into a biting remark flicker across the bartender's face and raised his hand to hide a quick smile. He had first wanted to warn the man when he had approached, it was likely the man was very... talented when it came to dealing with normal customers, but Rey was hardly normal. He had scanned over the man's aura in a quick motion, a flicker up and down of the eyes and had relaxed. The man was not human, Pandect's gaze had flickered right off of him, there was too much wildness in his aura. He responded to the man then, after he had seen, the way one might respond to a large watch dog, open and friendly, showing he was no threat. Keeping too far way for the supernatural to smell what he was. Pandect relaxed and opened his posture, carefully folding up his handkerchief and leaving it on the table. "We'll let you get back to your work then."

Rey couldn't quite force the same relaxation that Pandect had, he wanted cruelty in this moment and it showed. The lines in his brow stood out in stark distinction, framing the fire in his eyes as he smirked coolly at Pandect, looking more directly to Grayson. The man was menacing, but Rey wouldn't let himself be cowed either. "We shall," he agreed, moving to keep the table between himself and Pandect as a minor show of faith. "You may clear our glasses now," he went on, reaching in his pocket for his wallet and tossing a few dollars down with a derisive curl to his lips.

A growl rolled in the depths of his chest, begging to rise higher, but Grayson had more control than that. He didn't rise to bait, and he didn't let just anyone rile him, not when confrontations could be avoided. Whoever this man was, he wasn't worth it. Keeping his eyes on the more threatening of the men, the one with the attitude -- more like attitude problem -- he offered a humourless smile. "Thank you for the permission." There was a bite of sarcasm to his words, just enough to get the message across but not enough to completely weigh down the words. "If that's all?" His way of reminding the man that he'd technically been asked to leave the establishment.

"Yes," Pandect said. Pointedly rolling his eyes at Rey, could be construed as a dare, he didn't much mind one way or the other. "Thank you very much, I'm sorry for any inconvenience." Rey for all his talk of meekness really didn't get it. Pandect wasn't cowed, he was careful, in order to survive as long as he did alone as he was it was important to learn to deflect. And it was working perfectly now, all the barkeeper's attention was on the demon and very little was spared for Pandect himself. As he preferred it. He circled around, moving so that he didn't break the barkeeper's focus on Rey, and away from himself, and decidedly turned his back on Rey.

Rey almost expected Pandect to hug the man, he was being so accommodating. "Yes, that will be all," he told Grayson, gaze drifting from the shifter to follow Pandect as he moved away. Rey would give him leeway, otherwise it would be too risky to just empty his revolver into the man outside. He wanted to savor this. "I am sure we'll encounter each other again, I am somewhat regular here," he informed Grayson with an even, challenging look as he ambled away from the table gradually. "If we do not? Spend the tip wisely," he finished, fixing the collar of his coat and making sure his pistol was still concealed, then starting out gradually.

If the other man hadn't walked away at that point, the challenge in that look would have initiated something not even Grayson, with all his control and self-restraint, would have been able to rein in fully. As it was, there had been a promise in those parting words, one that the werewolf almost hoped came to fruition at some point in the future. For now, silently thankful for the retreat, as it was, Grayson didn't move so much as a muscle, just staring levelly at the man's back as he walked away. Only when there was enough distance between them for the wolf in him to feel less riled and more relaxed did he actually reach forward and collect the glasses and the bills that had been tossed down, casting one final, cursory glance towards the exit before shaking his head and moving back towards the bar.

Rey may make Pandect... upset, but he was definitely useful as a distraction, that demon couldn't avoid being abrasive. He tucked his hands in his pockets and lingered in a out of town (it was really small) just long enough to be pretty sure he wasn't being followed. It was likely anyway that Rey would go home and brood, probably poke something with a sharp stick a few times. Out of the man's (demon's) presence he was able to roll his eyes at him. If Ray didn't care deeply for his brother, Pandect was a pumpkin.