Writers block…urrgh
Well, anways…errm, I know that its impossible for computer monitors to be there in around the end of the seventeen hundreds but…for the sake of the story, I had to put it ^^'
The Scarlett,
6
Viveca stared agape at the monitor screen. Her hands were clutching at the wooden desk so hard, she thought that it might break. She just couldn't, wouldn't believe that Corinne, - Corinne - to get the attention of the Prince! The girl with a barrier of negativeness- if that was even considered a word. The fashionista began to feel dread in the pit of her stomach; The whole idea of the girl being 'The Scarlett' was to make her the herione of Paris, and she would emotionally be in an almost breakdown without the wall of soltitude, if she let feelings get in the way, and if someone got to care so much about her, -Viveca shook her head, letting go of the desk- It was no use, Louis was already enamored.
And that wasn't how it was supposed to play out either. The whole point of nobody, no feelings and no attention was that she would be missed if something were to happen, -which was a severe mistake because the three had become the best of friends- no feelings was so that if anyone should be killed, she wouldn't mourn for too long -It was considered heartless, but it was the only thing that they could do, even if they regretted it- and no attention- though unfortunately, the duchess rose her suspicions, no attention meant no suspicions.
But everything was backfiring, how were they going to go through all of that now? The duchess rose her suspicion on the first mission. If their dear friend let the Prince die, everyone knew that she would emotionally break down, even if she didn't want to admit it. If she went against the regent's orders, her mother would die. And on top of that, if she revealed anything, it would put everything at risk and everyone in danger.
She shook her head and stared down at the many papers on her desk. Her chocolate eyes drifted to one particular picture. She'd inconspicuously had asked lady Marie- Corinne's mother- to send her the picture, she normally didn't care about them, but it sparked her interest because she found an exact copy of it laying around at Scrooge's mansion. And the interesting bit was that it was definitely the Prince on the photo, but beside him- she refused to believe it at first- it was truly, without a doubt Corinne.
Then, she invited her for tea, asking various things in a round-about way, such as: If she knew the current Queen. If she knew any of the Royals of the country. And so forth so on. But the one thing she just asked boldly was "Who are the children in the front, Marie?-that is, if you don't mind me asking."
Marie laughed slightly and accepted the photo, smiling slightly at the memories. "The boy is my friend- Amelia's son, Louis. And the girl is my darling little Corinne, well, I guess you can't exactly call her little anymore, can you?" A slight look of longing for a sister passed through the eyes of the middle-aged woman.
The fashionista grinned, her chocolate eyes glittering-litterally- with victory. She knew it! She knew that the little boy had to be the Prince. And if that was so… didnt- or wasn't the Queen great friends with the woman? And if that was true, and if her daughter had no recollection of it, and judging by how caring and sincere the Prince acted around her, it could only mean one thing… she smiled. "No, I don't think so."
Viveva frowned as her chocolate eyes drifted across the photos. It was the last thing that she wanted to do, in all honesty. But she didn't really have a choice. She took a deep breath. "Aramina!"
A soft "Yes?" Echoed down the hall as the soft patter of feet followed, getting louder as the redhead can into the room. She was giggling at a torn piece of a book- journal if anything. She opened her mouth to explain something then clamped at back shut when she noticed the serious look on the tan girl's face. She walked over to her, glancing at the screen for a moment before returning her attention to a photo on the desk which stood out among the rest of the blank papers, she pucked it up asking, "What's wrong?" She glanced at the photo once more, "Is that the rich man's nephew?"
"The Prince." Viveca corrected, gathering up a few sheets of certain information in them. Neatly aligning them together, then sat the stack down.
The girl holding the photo nearly dropped dead. "T-the…th-the..." She stammered, staring wide eyed at the photography, and once she payed attention to the details, she realized that the vest the boy had on had the royal family crest sewn on to the left side. "The Prince…is the rich man's nephew? But how can that be, Viveca? We all know that if he were truly royalty, he would be in the palace and no-"
"-And not in a mansion, yes." The fashionista cut her off, pushing the glasses that were sliding down her nose, back up again. She opened a drawer and took out a large, envelope which had edges turned yellow with age. "The information isn't as old as the envelope, the information must've been only a decade old, at most." She said as she handed it to the younger girl, who took it with slight hesitation.
She carefully opened it, taking out the sheets with curiosity written in her green eyes. Once she got all the papers out, she placed the envelope back on the table, her emeral eyes not looking away from the sheets that she stared at in awe. The first one was a letter…-the girl frowned slightly, then raised an eyebrow- addressed to lady Marie. She skimmed through it, it was mostly about having doubt that the castle was safe then. " 'Marie, I'm absolutely terrified, ever since the assassination of my husband, I think only a lunatic would call the Castle home. I am currently writing this, as of my situation being one of urgency, after loosing him…I'd rather die than lose my son. I hope you and your child are far safer than I am. I can only hope for the best expecting the worst, this is the first bloody Sunday that I came across..'" The girl trailed off, looking at Viveca. "The King was assassined on the first bloody Sunday?"
"Yes he was." The tan replied, giving the other a brief glance before hanging her head. "What does the rest of it say?"
The girl focused on the paper in front of her. "' After all that has happened, I can only pray that I light will shine bright from the bitter darkness in which it seeps through.' Hmm, the Queen is rather poetic I should say. 'I have my suspicions that whoever is getting rid of people is in this place, because whoever it must be has open access to the vault and training rooms. And the only person other than me and George who have access is William, his brother. I've had my suspicions for a while, just on him, not his son. William had always wanted to overthrow my husband to gain the throne all to himself, he was offered to share half of France but refused until he could get everything. When they were kids I thought that it was only a childish play, but as the years evolved, I was gravely mistaken. Everything had turned into bitter greed and envy.' " Aramina took a deep breath, taking all that in. "Wow." She mumbled.
"I know." The other girl replied. She stared at the monitor screen. "But that's not the problem I called you here to discuss," She showed her the image of the waltzing duo. "It seemed that piece by piece, he's bringing her emotions back and… I hate to be the one who has to say this." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"But we have to get them apart."
"You need to lack some modesty; You say you don't dance, look at you, you're an expert!" The man said, laughing slightly as the two danced, and for a brief moment, he swore that the dullness from her eyes faded away and sparkled. But even if it didn't last a second, it brought a life-times worth of joy to him.
There was a tinge of amusement in the girl's voice. "There is a difference between saying that you can't dance and that you don't dance. And as far as I'm concerned, I only said that I don't dance." The blond stated, in her mind she was basking in with the fact that she had earned victory in the slight banter.
A look of admiration crossed his features in a dreamy haze, "Too true, Milady."
The last word caused her to stiffen, her eyes widened slightly. It took only four seconds for it to become awkward. She cleared her throat before hesitsting. "Did you just…-?" Her question was cut off as Scrooge called them, running over already. The two quickly jumped apart. The old man still kept on running.
"What's the matter, uncle scrooge?" Louis called, worry lacing his voice as he chased after his uncle.
"Brigitta found the password to me vault! I am doomed me boy! Doomed!" Came the reply.
Corinne just stood there, stunned as was even more shocked as another group of women dashed passed her, knocking her to the ground, all saying something about getting Scrooge's money. The girl clicked her tongue, sitting up as she watched the women chase after him. 'What is with those gossiping geese?" She mumbled under her breath.
"Funny to see you here, Kitty." She frowned, but once she looked up at the man, immediate recogntion filled her eyes.
"Jerome! I can't believe it! It's really you!" She sounded shocked instead of excited.
Jerome shrugged, hands in his pockets. "Does little baby sister mind her big brother being here?" He added a pout to the mock, earning him a death glare. He held up his hands in surrender, "Alright, alright, Kitty, you don't need to murder me with ultra-V rays you know." He said.
No words could describe the look on Louis' face as he saw the girl he'd been crushing on for ten+ years be actually happy and with another man, whom she seemed to recognize. He was too far away to hear all of it, but he heard her excitement 'Its really you!' Come from her. There was no way it was fakable.
And then, of all worst times, Victor popped up behind him, cringing at the sight. "Le ouch." He muttered, shaking his head sympathetically.
The brunette man turned to face him. "Le what?"
"Le ouché." The raven haired man pointed a finger to the scene. Which was more painful then the last one; Corinne had her arms around his neck and head on his shoulder contently as a hug, which he returned, with a sincere smile.
Still stunned at the scene, the other man blinked a few times. "Im… gonna go outside for a bit."
His mind was completely jumbled as he walked through the gardens. There had to be logical explanation- Like what? - He shook his head, staring up at the dark midnight blue sky. The crescent shape of the moon seemed to glow with a faint light, a glimmer, it had hope. Then something he saw from the corner of his eyes caught his attention: The shrubbery of the rose bush. He remembered them, his mother planted the first shrub which had wilted a long time ago. They were always so healthy …so…happy. Then his eyes drifted to a lone rose that was left on the ground, it seemed to have broken off the rest of the mass of leaves and branches at its stem. He gingerly picked the flower up, being careful not to come in contact with any thorns. "Poor rose, left alone and misunderstood, are you?" He murmured to the flower as if it would reply back to him.
He stood back up from where he was crouched down, straightening his posture. Even through the faint glow of the moon, he could still see the bright bold cherry color on it. He didn't know how, but the color reminded him of the redness of the girl's face earlier that day, a ghost of a smile crossed his face, he had a slight feeling that the reason that the redness -which brought out the color of her blue eyes- was not embarrassment. Or maybe… she just didn't know why.
But then, thinking about her led to thinking about that other man. Who was he? How does she know him? Why was he here? He walked over to the fountain near by and sat on the edge. Trying desperately to think of something, someone else. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't hear the light sound of footsteps coming towards him.
The person sat down next to him, putting a comforting, sympathetic hand on his shoulder, facing him. That's when he noticed it- negative blue eyes shining under the moonlight. "Louis? Is everything okay?" Concern. Just another negative emotion. But it was closer to happy then sad was, at least.
He shrugged off her hand moodily. Not meeting her gaze, looking away he said, "Of course everything's fine, never felt better." He grumbled under his breath, exhaling. "Just peachy." He added. His eyes drifted to the flower in his hands, he didn't know that he was still clasping it. ' The colors of the flag represent the clergy, which is white. Bourgeoisie which is blue and nobility, which is red. You know the rosebushes I planted? I planted them in order, and red is the one for you, it means being noble, you are a Prince, you have a noble heart and do what you must, you look past the disguises into their hearts, you will find a way to thaw a frozen heart, chip away a stone barrier and bring back, what once was the good in their past. ' He remembered his mother saying that. 'Chip away the stone barrier, huh?' He thought to himself, briefly glancing at the girl from the corner of his eyes.
The girl was just at a loss for words, dwindling her thumbs. "Louis, I-" She started, but cut herself off. 'I what exactly?' She tried again. "What happened back there? One minute you were chasing after your uncle. And then came the bombarding crowd. Did Brigitta manage to get the money or something?" She knew it was anything but that. The man could care less about money for all she knew.
He shook his head, finally looking at her. He slipped the flower into her palm and either she didn't notice or ignored it. "No, its not that. It's just…" He trailed off. He didn't want her to think that he was jealous- even though he was. He really was jealous. He didn't want her to know that because then… she might hate him because he liked her or she might think of him as a wimp.
The girl opened her mouth to say something but was cut of as the sound of glass shattering and terrified screams reached them, along with a bullet that had woozed past them. They looked at each other, horrified. "The Sky Pirates." They said dreadfully.
Just then, a figure that looked exactly like the Scarlett ran passed them. Corinne's eyebrows lowered in confusion as they ran after her, she saw the girls eyes…green. Corinne's eyes sparked with exitement. 'Aramina!' "Talk about good timing!"
Viveca watched, from the HQ, fully pleased with how she managed to get the disguise going on. A self-satisfied smirk graced her lips, Karnage- no, Garbage would never notice a thing. She crossed her arms, her fingers drumming on her arm. Sure they got Karnage out of the book but then there was the duchess, she was going to be hard to convince, she was just as stubborn as the blond girl, if not mor-
"Mlle Viveca, you have a letter." Treville called as he stepped up beside her, watching the battle unfold as he set it down on the desk. He signed and shook his head. "Amelia, George, I'm so sorry I couldn't keep you two safe, notheless, watch over your son."
The younger girl looked up at him wistfully, her eyes on him in an understanding gaze. "It's not your fault, Treville, it's William's and Philippe's." She said, watching as the horrified memories flashes through the older man's eyes.
"I should get going." He replied as he left.
"Oh, and, Treville?"
"Yes?"
"Do you mind doing me a favor?"
"Of course not."
"Then could you keep the duchess out of suspicion."
"Will do,"