"Thank you Monsieur" A young woman in her teenage years said, handing the salesman a few coins.
"It was a pleasure Mlle" he chuckled, giving her a toothy grin while quickly stuffing his pay in the pockets off his dirty overalls.
The young blonde twitched her nose in disgust, quickly moving away from the stall then fleeing the marketplace.
"dégoûtante (disgusting)" she scoffs brushing the dust away from her dress and fixing her bonnet.
"Mademoiselle Alarie" the coachman opened the carriage door for the noble, then quickly jumping up on the front, guiding the horses out of the bustling Parisian market.
"Anné, go fetch Monsieur Daroga for me" the blonde ordered her personal maid while taking off her bonnet.
She put her hair accessory aside pulling out the chair in front of her vanity. Taking a seat she used her comb to brush through her long hair.
"You asked for me Mademoiselle?" A familiar male voice said.
"Motlagh! Finally. I wonder when your boy could start working?" She asked, turning around to face senior Motlagh.
"Nadir.. I'm afraid he's travelling the world at the moment Mademoiselle" he apologised, bowing his head.
"Well, tell me when he gets back then. Off you go, work doesn't finish by itself does it?"
Opera Populaire, France 1971
"Lead me save me from my solitude" the vampire glanced down at the acts. This wasn't planned.
"Anywhere you go let me go too, Christine, that's all I ask of you!" Aminta—or Christine rips off the mask of the man singing to her.
The opera house filled with gasps as they looked at his deformity.
Only one soul stayed quiet.
Madeleine Alair.
A small smirk in the corner of her lips.
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"Incoming call from; 'patchy the pirate' ". FRIDAY's Irish voice barely sounded through the chaos of The Avengers tower.
