~ case. Raising it to his chin, the Frenchman begins to play.

It is a romantic piece bordering on the melancholy. The sounds brings him back and, for a moment, he is lost in it.

“Hmm . . . well, I like it because she likes it. It reminds me of her.”

And his mother had been supportive of him in ways his father never was.

Jean-Paul take the music, examines it a moment before setting it on the coffee table. Having made a decision, he then retrieves his violin from its ~

He understands . . . even if he does not struggle with shyness. Or hesitation as the case may be.

“Quite available. Any time you like. Well. Post-sunset, of course.”

Well . . . happy to see where things go when they continue their chat.

Yell at his scribe for that.

~ nods in the direction of one of the more private tables. "Please. Let's sit and drink and talk."

He already has a glass of the man's favorite poured.

"More than a few."

Stories, that is.

"And as for what I have been up to, getting in trouble mostly," he adds with a rather self-deprecating laugh. "That and getting this place set up."

He stretches out his arms wide to properly show off his place.

"Not too bad If I say so myself." Then, he ~

~ drink or two.

He does offer a warm smile when he sees the familiar face enter, and Frenchie rounds the bar (no use hiding) to give the man an equally warm pat on the back.

"You are a sight for sore eyes, ami."

Only a bit ominous.

Old habits die hard, he supposes.

He knows. A lot had happened, and Frenchie's own habits caused him to crash and burn. Quite literally. He would have to explain, he knows, the braces he has to wear to walk now. Hopefully, they could get into the gritty details after a ~

~ location or the hours. Those, he knows his old friend would already know, or, if not, would find easily.

~See you soon.~

~ take him long to make a decision and shoot off a tex.

~ Been awhile. I guess I should not be surprised that you can find anyone. It's good to hear from you. I would love to catch up. I have a bistro now -- which you probably know. Meet me there after close. ~

He does't need to relay the ~

Frenchie raises a brow as he sits at this table and reads the letter. He certainly had not expected to hear from the man -- not really again let alone now. Given Moran's . . . career, he probably should be nervous that he found him. But it's Moran, and he had long had Frenchie's trust.

It does not~

Has no clue what was said to him elsewhere but is now intrigued.

Jean-Paul nearly drops the bottle of wine he was holding.

He glances left and then right — making sure none of his patrons actually saw that.

Then he ponders if he should be panicking.

“I . . . I do not know any Armand. Is he . . .” The man nods towards the other. “Like you?”

Thinking the man is joking — for he must be — Jean-Paul laughs.

“I am not sure that I am familiar with that vintage,” he jokes in turn.

“And I do not know who any of those people are. So I will just have to judge for myself.”

He waves off the cigarette.

“No thank you. I don’t smoke.”

But he does drink so pours himself a glass of wine.

“Would you like one?”

“I think you know you are hypnotic,” the Frenchman jokes.

Imaginez-le hypnotisé.

“Well, I suppose I wouldn’t know.”

Maybe try a blood bank.

He doesn’t want to lose customers.

They seem to be inundated with vampires these days.

JP has missed him. Very much.

*snatches right up*

Happy to oblige . . . should he want company.

Jean-Paul has a small tree. It is something.

Well. Jean-Paul certainly did not expect that answer. Family troubles are usually more than one would share with a stranger, and then . . .

“Immortal?” he asks.

Marc is certainly close to invincible, but he’s not immortal. So the concept boggles Jean-Paul’s mind a little.

“C'est une nouveauté.”

“Was it not to your liking?” the bistro owner asks the guest. “I am happy to bring you something else.”

// Gimme all the IWTV folks. I want to write with you all.

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Probably has an unhealthy fascination for vampires.

Alice
Reporter
Book lover
One betta Tolstoy
Sings karaoke in her spare time
Bakes too
Young version of Daniel’s future wife Alice

Like to be a main RT for exposure