Descole tapped his foot impatiently as he waited at the Reunion Inn.
The dark miracle was already under way -- he had seen the giant clown balloon crash a while ago.
He adjusted his mask. To anyone in Monte d'Or, they would simply think he was another member of the festivities there. He was alright to keep it on.
Raymond was out. Descole had told him to enjoy the festivities -- not the 'dark miracles' -- and despite the butler's insistence to stay with the masked man, he had relented. Monte d'Or truly was a beautiful city, and even more so as a tourist attraction.
It was quite odd -- Randall was more tied to this place than he knew. Descole wasn't going to give him all the details yet; he still needed him for his plan.
"Descole!" The masked man jumped, a surprised noise leaping from his throat as is hand landed on the handle of his sword. Randall held up his hands, giving a sheepish smile. "Woah, hey, it's just me."
Descole grit his teeth as he relaxed his posture. "How did it go?" He asked, trying to calm his pounding heart.
"It went just as planned; however…." Randall trailed off. It was in that moment that Descole noticed the heavy breathing, the sheen of sweat on Randall's skin.
"However?"
"Layton is here much sooner than you thought." Descole let out a string of curse words. That was going to throw a wrench in everything.
"Did he and his little friends follow you then?" Randall nodded; it seemed his breathing was beginning to even out.
"Yes." Descole cursed again, then motioned for Randall to follow him as he made his way to their room.
"Let's hope Layton hasn't figured you out yet."
"It's been eighteen years. I doubt he remembers."
"Layton wouldn't have forgotten; your terrible acting probably gave you away."
"My acting was amazing!"
"I'm sure a cat would've done better." Randall gave a scoff.
"Like you would do any better." When there was no answer from Descole, Randall had figured that the subject had been dropped. The masked man was rather… unpredictable, at times. Who knew what he was thinking of next. He passed a woman and her daughter on his way to their room; when he reached it, he looked behind him.
"Desc --" Randall blinked, looked back down the hall. "Hey, what're you --"
Randall paused. Something was wrong. The masked man was stock still, his hands clenched into fists. He couldn't see the masked man's eyes, but the way his face was contorting into -- was that --?
Why did Descole look so -- heartbroken?
Randall was by his side in an instant, his worry growing. How could he help? This man had helped him remember his past, how could he help him calm down?
"Woah, hey, are you okay? What happened?" Descole's jaw worked, a hand making its way to Randall's shoulder, squeezing it like a lifeline. His breathing was heavy, harsh. He swallowed heavily, then shook his head. Descole's teeth ground against each other after that, his body shaking. Randall could feel his own fear growing. "Let's get you back into the hotel room. Okay?"
He helped guide the masked man into their shared room. Randall shut the door behind him, and guided Descole to his bed.
"Descole." Randall was horrified as he saw a tear make its way from underneath Descole's mask, then another. "Can you tell me what's going on?"
Descole let out a choked sounding sob then; Randall wasn't sure what to do. He knew how the masked man felt about removing the white mask from his eyes; but… if the mask had fogged, it could possibly cause more panic.
"Descole," Randall started, his hands slowly making their way to the other man's face. "Is it alright if I take off the mask?"
The reaction was immediate; Descole slapped his hands away, a panicked scream leaping from his throat. Randall jumped away before slowly easing his way back to the other man's side.
"Don't --!"
"I'm not going to." Descole visibly relaxed, though his shaking -- or sobbing -- hadn't ceased. "What happened?"
"I --" Descole swallowed thickly. "That was --"
"Who?"
"The woman -- with her --" Randall's eyebrows shot high on his head.
"Did they remind you of someone?" Descole just nodded. Randall understood in that moment; his mouth fell into a worried frown. "Ah -- so… are they...?"
Descole grimaced. "I would rather not talk about it, Ascot." Randall nodded again; his answer said it all.
"I'm sorry."
"I said I'd rather not talk about it. Just… leave me alone, Ascot. We have a long day tomorrow." Randall nodded again, moving from Descole's bed to his.
"Descole?" There was no answer, but Randall could still hear Descole's soft, keening sobs. "I may not have known them, but… they were probably wonderful people that loved you very much."
Still no answer. Randall sighed, and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he heard a soft voice -- almost a whisper.
"They were."
