chiv-id: ZOMG you guys, are you excited for this next chapter? 'CUZ I AM. SH*T IS GOING TO FLY, SON! LOL, nah, I'm just joking. Things are going to get a little crazy, but not in that action-packed kind of way. I'm going to mention this again for the second time, but I feel that A Monster in Paris is quite reserved and very romantic, more so than a lot of the other movies I've seen out there. BREATH OF FRESH CINEMATIC AIR, PEOPLE. BREATH OF FRESH AIR. You know, as opposed to the funny quirky love stories, which aren't bad, but there's been so many comedy love stories, it's sort of like watching the same thing OVER and OVER again, with only minor details squelched and redressed.
Ahem, so, without further ado, the title of this chapter is called "Accepting Change". Lots of stuff going to be happening in this one, including skimming the surface of a big issue. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own A Monster in Paris, Bibo and Europa do. I only own this story and new characters.
"Wow..." Raoul had one hand draped across his middle, the elbow of his other arm resting against his rib cage as he put a hand over his mouth in pure awe, "Emile...I mean, this is..."
"Amazing? Perfect?" Emile tried to finish for the flabbergasted man, the smaller man's hands hooking their thumbs in his suspenders as he proudly pushed his chest out, "Once I saw it, I knew that if anything could make up for missing an anniversary, it would be this." Immediately following the filmmaker's plundering, the two Parisian friends set off back to Raoul's workshop, his current residence as well as his job area. It was little more than a garage with only two rooms and one toilette, but at least it wasn't the street and it had running water and electricity. Raoul himself was happy with it, though he did miss sleeping in Catherine's cargo hold more than he enjoyed a full bed in some building run by a cranky landlord named Monsieur Moreau.
"Bravo Emile, never thought you had it in you," Raoul came closer to the wondrous device and stared at it closely, "You ever think about what this was, though?"
"No...not really, it was more of a 'spur of the moment' kind of thing," Emile gripped his bowler hat between his hands, "I just assumed it was one of the Professor's inventions. Besides, I know that we're going to return it right after, right?" The mischievous man looked back at him with a slight smirk and a wave of his hands before kneeling at eye level with the box again.
Unbeknownst to Emile and Lucille even, Raoul considered himself as much an artist as a mechanic. Catherine's build, though a delivery truck, was streamlined for speed as well as beauty. The artwork and design on the sides of his truck was also his handiwork, which took a painstaking 3 hours to paint just one side. And with Raoul's eye for aesthetics, he could see just how exquisite the stolen item was, which was impressively nearly the size of Emile's head.
The box had a curved lid, made from some sort of rosewood by the deep red spider pattern and the fragrant smell of it, with gold foil inlaid at the top in a solid border that followed the arc of the cover with curled fleur-de-lis leaves twirled about the corners and trimming like ivy. And in the center of the lid at the top was a blazing gemstone placed in a gilded ring, a sort of dazzling and brilliant cerulean color inset with phosphorescent green that looked as though it were molten in blue flame. Matching gold hinges were set in the back attaching the lid to the rest of the contraption, an auric plate with a small keyhole inlaid within the front of device to prevent easy access. Raoul traced his finger along the gemstone before continuing to observe a similar golden border from the lid on the box's main body, with a dark etching pattern in the form of intricate curves and arcs as well as detailed diamond shapes lying underneath the auric design. Further inspection showed the right side of the device sporting a strange knob with four fleur-de-lis surrounding it as though it were a flower in bloom. He touched it gently, but left the mysterious protrusion to pick up the box and put it on its 'back', seeing that the box had a bit of a hollow velvet bottom. On the underside was an oval-shaped gold seal, emblazoned with the words 'Made by the AMERICAN ORCHAESTRION COMPANY' in large lettering and the phrase 'No. 12 out of 50' in smaller lettering under it. A peculiar lining in the shape of a rectangle just next to the seal gave Raoul pause and he touched it with a single finger, finding that it gave way and depressed. The velvet rectangle flipped in place, and mounted on its darker-colored back was a petite and decorative key that was looked like just the right size for the lock.
"Oh no..." Raoul looked back at Emile who was now sporting a very guilty look on his face, "What if it was a gift for his missus? Or what if it's a bomb? Does he make bombs?" The tall Parisian man took the key from its secret place before standing up, causing the depression to flip the velvet rectangle to its original-colored side.
"No, Emile, the Professor doesn't make bombs," Raoul shook his head and grinned at the small man, "And the Professor told me his wife passed away a few years ago." Emile gave a small sad frown towards the latter part of Raoul's explanation before his eyes widened again.
"What if it was a memento from her?" the young Parisian man looked down with such guilt, it made Raoul nearly feel guilty himself even though he wasn't the culprit, "Oh, maybe this was a mistake!"
"Emile, calm down," Raoul grabbed Emile by the shoulders and forced him to look into his eyes, "Even if it was, we're going to return it without anyone ever having to know. Especially Lucille, all right? I'll give it to her, tell her I got it loaned from...somewhere, then bring it back and let the Professor talk my ear off or beat me to death with that cane of his! I promise. And I'll even tell the Professor that it was my fault."
"No, Raoul, I made the decision to take it, if anyone is going to get the blame, it's me," Emile shook his head, but looked up at his good friend with a shaky smile, "Just promise me that we'll give it back right after, okay?" Raoul stared at the man before his face widened into a grin and he shook the little man's hand, patting his back reassuringly as he came to hug him.
"Yeah, okay," he acknowledged before turning back to the box.
"You figured out what it is?" Emile asked, and he blinked his eyes when the taller man showed him the underbelly of the machine.
"Has to be musical," Raoul confirmed as he tapped the word 'ORCHAESTRION' before holding up the key, "And important."
"Then, perhaps we should return it now," the brunette again lost his confidence, and Raoul had to roll his eyes before sighing. He might've become a tad bolder since the incident with the ex-Commissioner Maynott, but Emile had yet to truly gain that strong-willed attitude that was becoming of a hero of Paris.
"We're just 'borrowing' it Emile! C'mon, what's the worse that can happen?"
"You said that last time when we went about messing with the chemicals in the Professor's lab!"
"Well, I mean, besides that. The laws of the universe couldn't have written out we make two giant singing fleas in two years, right? Look, no Charles, no animals, no fleas. So, no monsters!" Raoul could see he was losing ground rapidly with the conversation. The impulse that might have overthrown the shorter man's senses when Emile stole the device was beginning to be overridden by the typical common sense that so plagued the cautious filmmaker. So, Raoul took a breath and clasped his hands together, leaning in close to his friend.
"Just trust me on this Emile. Potions might not be my forte, but this, gears and switches and knobs, I can handle it!"
"And I know you can, but...I ignored my instincts a year ago when we went into the Professor's lab and-"
"And we ended up having the greatest adventure of our lives! You even got Maud to fall for you, and all those films you made after you got inspired by the whole thing-!"
"The point is: we almost died!" the smaller Parisian man had to raise his voice to be heard, and Raoul backed off, having realized how close he was to nearly suffocating the poor man. There was a slight pause as Emile gathered his breath, letting the bowler hat be occupied in one hand while the other gestured during his talking.
"I mean, looking past all the good, it could've been really bad Raoul. If Francoeur had been a monster, if we really did get arrested and thrown in jail for the rest of our lives, if Maynott became mayor and let the Seine flood Paris..." Emile sighed and leaned against a wall, turning his hat over in his hands while looking down, " I do trust you Raoul, but I've just got this feeling that this is something we really don't want to get into. And I don't know how much farther we can push Lady Luck than we already have...can you?" Raoul rocked back on his heels as he stood there, pondering on the situation heavily as Emile dodged his stare. The little man was quite serious about this, shown by the way the mood had hit such an abrupt and cold tone, and the tall deliveryman was more than a little astounded. Emile had always been a little wary, even when they were in grade school, but more often than not, he would normally just go along for the ride with Raoul. No matter the danger or consequences that loomed in the future, Raoul could always count on Emile to be right there with him, thick as thieves, like that night in the laboratory a year ago.
Now...Raoul could feel a sort of distancing between the two of them. And he wasn't sure he liked it.
With a slight puff of breath blown from his long nose, Raoul crossed his arms and stood in front of Emile with a stoic face. The littler man looked up, his eyebrows knit together in what seemed like a cross between worry and firm resolution. He wasn't really a very courageous man, but when he set his mind to something, Emile was quite the stubborn one. It was then that Raoul softened his own expression, feeling the creases in his eyes and forehead smooth as he realized what needed to be done. If Emile didn't want to be apart of this, be his 'wingman', then so be it.
"All right Emile, here's the deal. I'm not going to shake it or anything, I'm just going to use the key to look inside. A peek," Raoul held his forefinger and thumb together so that there was barely a hair's breadth between them, "And we'll return it to the Professor. I'll just go talk to Lucille, empty-handed or with a box of chocolates like he said. Explain everything. And if you want, you can record me saying this with your new camera if you want to have proof. Keep me honest and everything, a man of my word." Emile, despite the strange feeling in his gut that was not unlike what he felt at the Professor's greenhouse, wanted to believe his best friend more than anything. And, just as he'd done a year ago, he squelched the uneasiness and nodded with just a hint of a hopeful smile.
"...All right, just let me get it out of the car first," Emile put his bowler hat back on, smoothing the crinkled edges of the lip as he ran out with a noticeable skip in his step.
Raoul, in the mean time, followed Emile closely and closed the door behind the diminutive Parisian softly. He took a rusty iron key from his pocket and locked the door as quietly as he could before dropping the key back in the breast pocket of his jacket, shaking his head.
Ordinarily, Raoul would've bowed out, done what Emile wanted, but the unsettling feeling of the subtle separation he felt was more than he could understand, or want to understand. Now, for the unknown reason that was festering somewhere in his chest, Raoul felt more motivated to pursue the objective of finding out what exactly the Professor was hiding, wanting to prove that this device was nothing to worry about. Lucille's affections, Emile's friendship, his own worth; they all seemed to dazedly float around the device like sirens of the sea, and Raoul didn't refuse their call. He felt his fingers slip the golden key into the lock, turn it counterclockwise until a definitive click was heard, then closed his eyes before putting a hand on the top of the device. He heard the door shake behind him, then rattle as one of Emile's small hands began pounding the other side of the wooden obstruction.
'Sorry Emile,' Raoul thought in a silent apology to the Parisian filmmaker, 'For whatever reason you think it may be, it's just a music box, buddy.' Despite the fact that he could feel himself fill with apprehension, the lanky Parisian took a small breath and opened the box...
"Raoul? Raoul?!" Emile continued to pound the door with the bottom of his right fist, the other hand preoccupied with carrying his camera, "The door's locked!" He continued to try and force the door open, but the gentle brunette just didn't have the strength to do so.
"Raoul, what's gotten into you?" Emile asked softly, looking around for a way in. When he couldn't find one, Emile frantically searched his mind for ideas before jumping off the front step of the apartment and rushing to the car. He didn't want to leave Raoul in that state, but being unable to do anything on the outside, Emile decided to get help. Sure, the device didn't seem as dangerous as chemicals in a laboratory, but Emile had to trust his instincts: anything the Professor worked on was never just as simple or innocent as it seemed.
The loyal friend put the car into drive and started to head back to the Professor's lab, hoping that the scientist was still there. Emile needed to know what it was, and with Raoul locking himself in his apartment with the mysterious machine, there was only one other person who would know.
As Emile drove through the streets, trying to remember the way back to the Professor's greenhouse, the filmmaker had a bit of time to think to himself. When Raoul had continued pushing him on the matter of investigating the invention, Emile realized it was the first time that he'd finally stood up for himself in front of the tall Parisian man. Sure, he'd done it before to Maynott who had nearly hurt Maud, but putting his foot down to Raoul, his best friend, was much harder. He knew that the man was desperate to not show up in front of Lucille empty-handed with only words, but Emile also knew that all Lucille wanted was for Raoul to show up at all, according to Maud's inside information. The Professor certainly wasn't wrong about that.
However, now the delivery man seemed hell-bent on getting Lucille an outstanding gift rather than just simply going to Lucille and apologizing for all the missed appointments. Emile shook his head again. A year ago, Emile was in the same position as Raoul now. Wracked with nerves and unsure of how to go about it, Emile had often daydreamed on going on imaginary dates with Maud and getting tongue-tied as he tried to think of some grand or magnificent way to sweep the sweet woman off her feet. That is, until Raoul gave him the simple and romantic idea of sending her a letter. That was why Emile was so compelled to help his best friend. Had it not been for Raoul's suggestion and encouragement, the shy casanova would never have had the chance to date the beautiful Maud, or marry her for that matter. So, Emile flew off the handle and did something crazy for him. If he had known how embroiled Raoul would be with it, though, Emile never would have stolen the Professor's invention in the first place...
The film maker eventually reached the greenhouse, though he'd gotten lost several times since Raoul was the more learned of the two when it concerned the streets of Paris, and the sky was highlighted in orange and purple tones as the sun started to set. Emile stepped out of the 1911 Penn and straightened his jacket, preparing himself for the Professor's rage that would no doubt come, but when he checked the door, Emile found that it was locked.
A sign reading 'AWAY' snuffed the last hope Emile had to finding out what the device was by the end of the day. With a slightly sickening feeling, the small man climbed back into his vehicle and started heading back to Raoul's apartment, hoping that nothing terrible had happened while he was away.
"STOP!" Emile nearly felt his heart leap up out of his throat as he braked suddenly, the quiet Parisian streets echoing with the accusation. He had been driving rather mindlessly when it occurred and he felt his wits scattered and frayed as Emile looked around. It was then that he saw the hulking shadow of Francoeur and heard the hurried tapping of a white alabaster cane of the Professor against the sidewalk, with Charles huddled on top of Francoeur's shoulder. He was livid, as expected, but the flea's appearance was sort of a surprise to Emile.
"Raoul!" the Professor wheezed as the excitement strained his lungs, making his way to the car haphazardly as Francoeur held his arms out in case the old man toppled, "Raoul stole something of mine!" Charles jumped down from Francoeur's shoulder and shrieked alongside his master, waving his arms about as he did so.
"I apologize, Professor," Emile pulled over to the side and got out of the Penn Model 30, taking his hat off and holding it tightly between his hands, "It was wrong, and I promise you, it will never happen again."
"Yes, you are certainly correct about that!" the bushy white mustache of the elder bustled as he finally got to Emile, "That man is never allowed to come back to my laboratory, understand?!" Charles gave one last final shriek before jumping over to the car, searching through it for the device supposedly.
"Professor, it wasn't Raoul who stole the device."
"And for another thing I-!" the Professor lost his steam as he blinked and stared at Emile in a confused way, "Pardon?" Charles popped his head up from the seats of the vehicle before joining Francoeur in staring at the pair of humans.
"I stole the instrument, Professor," Emile looked away guiltily, his small form getting smaller by the second, "It's just...it was a very beautiful box and I thought it might be something Raoul could borrow to win Lucille's forgiveness back."
"That...that was a very big mistake, Monsieur Petit!" the Professor smacked the man on the top of his round head with his cane, receiving an exclamation of pain from Emile, "Do you not realize borrowing without permission is stealing, Emile?! You are rather lucky I did not contact Inspector Pate about this!" Emile nodded as he rubbed his head dejectedly before he heard a sigh. He looked up at the sound and saw the Professor putting both of his hands on the cane and pointing his head down in disappointment. Francoeur was standing next to the man, towering over the Professor with a worried look as Charles flubbed his lips in exasperation.
"He must be...quite important to her, hmm?" the Professor asked and Emile gave a small 'yes' to answer before Charles swung down to the Professor and chittered in a sad way, "...I can understand such a love, so I will hold off on Raoul's banishment from my premises. However, this does not excuse your crime, understood?" Emile nodded, glad that this didn't end up worse than it really was. He gave a small wave to Francoeur and Charles to greet the previous host-and-parasite and the two animals waved back with small smiles.
"Where is Raoul? I should like to talk to him, too, as well as get my object back," the Professor looked around and Emile was once more reminded why he needed to see the elderly scientist.
"That's right! Professor," Emile ran over to the other side of his white car and opened the passenger's side door, "You need to come with me! And I need to know what it was I took. If it's dangerous, I think Raoul might be in danger." Francoeur and the Professor looked at each other before the old man climbed into the seat. Francoeur, being his side, just mounted the back of the vehicle and hung on as Emile started the car and drove off, heading back to Raoul's apartment.
"Before I tell you about the box, Monsieur Petit, I would like to give you some advice," the Professor began as the film maker as he rounded a corner, and Emile glanced at the white-haired man to show he was listening, "You really should be more concerned with your own personal matters than Raoul's, my boy. It isn't healthy." Emile continued driving along the slowly emptying Parisian street and looked at the Professor with a confused gaze.
"'Trying to support my best friend's love life' isn't healthy? I just want him to be happy."
"Yes, but you stole for him, Monsieur Petit. And now, he may be in danger because of it." Emile didn't have much to retort to the true statements, but he just shook his head and continued the conversation.
"I've always been with Raoul, Professor. He's my best friend. And that's the way things have been, always."
"Then, perhaps things need to change."
There was a strange unsettling feeling in Emile's stomach as the Professor spoke, and the small man gripped the wheel a little tighter as they traveled along. Change was all that happened last year. Francoeur and Lucille became famous world-wide, Emile had gone on to become famous for his romance films, Maud dated and married him, the Seine was drained using genetically-modified sunflowers, Raoul...
Emile's eyes widened slightly. Raoul. Raoul.
Raoul had sacrificed much last year. That ridiculously prickly faux-coat, his standing with the Professor, and Catherine. His livelihood, beloved invention, and even home. And the rather good-hearted rascal had accepted it all with just a single tear shed for Catherine. The only highlight that came from the event was his new-found love for Lucille, but now, even that was going sour. Emile wished that he'd been more observant, which he normally was being a film maker, but Raoul's grin and easy-going antics were quite deceptive, and in analyzing everything that had been going on, the small man could barely imagine the struggle Raoul had been hiding all this time. Him. His best friend. The guilt surged through his system like lightning, and he sighed before turning to see Charles and Francouer gazing at him without a single sound, though their combined concern was not very well-hidden.
"What about the device, Professor?" Emile decided to change the topic, something that had not gone on unnoticed by the trio of scientist and animals.
"It is a music box," the balding innovator confessed, and the rattled young man had to look back at the Professor in disbelief.
"So it's just a normal box?" he tried to say it affirmatively, but Emile still had a bad feeling in his gut.
"I did not say that," the Professor pulled an envelope that was the same golden color as the napkin that was on top of the box in the greenhouse, "It is a revolutionary item, Monsieur Petit, and I was able to see a demonstration of it while I was in New York. My colleague, however, told me that this was merely a show. The real product had not yet been completed, and that he needed my help to do so. He even sent me this letter with all the schematics and efforts put into the machine."
"Well, what does it do, besides play music?"
"I cannot tell you. I was sworn to keep the real function a secret by my colleague, I'm afraid. Thus, I cannot reveal anymore than its basic purpose, which is as you've stated," the Professor apologetically explained, "However, on the journey here, the apparatus fell into disrepair. Trading vessels of wine-loving captains are often the bane of many goods, as it were. And I was trying to fix the mechanical aspect of the music box before you stole it from my laboratory!" The Professor had to take a deep breath before continuing, his bushy white mustache being blown by the wind as they soared past another park.
"In any case, Emile, I fear more for Raoul at this point. Before the wrecking, the device was incomplete and unsafe for human interaction. Now that the basic technology is faulty, I'm afraid Raoul may be walking straight into a catastrophe!"
The grave look on the Professor's face and vague description of the trouble they were in did not ease the film maker's worry as they continued. Emile gripped the wheel hard as he pressed the gas pedal near to the floor and drove through the streets of Paris with a roar in his Penn Model 30. He knew he had a bad feeling...why didn't he trust his instincts?!
chiv-id: YEAH, ANOTHER CHAPTER DOWN. Jesus, I really should write shorter chapters. If I did, these would be coming out faster. Anyway, now you know what Emile stole from the Professor's lab, or at least a general idea, and that Raoul isn't just tampering with just some normal box. REVIEW AND RATE PEOPLES AND I WILL SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER.