Ok, so right after I skip into the future the furthest I've yet gone, I go right back into the time during the actual movie. Ha, can't help it, I'm A.D.D!
It was cold and miserable, with the coat, hat, and scarf he'd taken to wearing doing nothing to protect him from the chill as the icy cold droplets fell in a steady rhythm that gave no signs of stopping. He wandered through the dark, looking for a place to hide from the rain.
He'd been wandering like this for two days. It was confusing and frightening to be alone in the city, and though he'd figured out the basics of the sounds that the humans made, he couldn't imitate them. He'd perched above roofs to watch people speaking to each other and discovered that he had a quick understanding when it came to sounds. Their language was rather simple in its structure. But he couldn't make the sounds that they did, with every try coming out as a chirp, hiss, or sometimes a high humming sound. He'd heard music and had been instantly drawn to the sound, but the old lady listening had screamed and he'd jumped away, afraid. He watched and was beginning to understand the world spinning on around him, but he couldn't interact with it.
He hopped onto the roof of a building, having found small shelters on roofs before. There was nothing, and he was about to leave the way he'd come, but he heard murmuring in the alley behind the structure, so he went to listen. He listened to every human he could, as he knew that understanding them would make his life easier. But, ever since that first day, he'd avoided being seen by them. He didn't know much about them, nor they about him, but he knew that he frightened them. That knowledge brought with it a strange sort of guilt, though it wasn't his fault that he made them afraid. He'd never hurt a single human nor would he. Yet they all still ran away when they saw him. He'd seen the picture on the front of that paper a woman had been reading, heard her mumbling the story on it to herself. He was a monster.
The human in the alley was a man, a relatively young one with a very large nose. He watched the man move from the door a little, understanding the resentment in his tone more than the words he was saying. It was something about "talent," he understood that word. He accidentally made a frustrated sound, as the words were confusing him, and the man noticed his shadow. The man began to panic, as all the humans seemed to do around him, and he jumped down in front of him, trying to show him that he meant no harm. Instead of calming him, however, this just made the man more hysterical, and he threw himself over a tall fence a few yards away.
Before he'd gone, however, the man had been pulling a metal handle attached to a chain. It had made a rather interesting sound and he had never seen anything like it before, so he went to investigate. It made the same beautiful sound when he pulled it that it had when the man did, and he pulled it a few times in amazement. Then the door opened quickly and hit the side of his shell, throwing him a few feet to the opposite side of the alley. He moaned in surprise and pain at hitting the wall.
There was a woman in the door. He had learned that, while sometimes the men would just run away, the women all made loud, high pitched sounds when they saw him. He curled up into his coat as much as he could, wanting to be invisible. Surprisingly, this woman didn't start shrieking like they usually did. She acted concerned, saying something about "hurt" and "see" in a gentle tone. He had never had anyone ask about his well-being before. So he stood slowly, keeping all his hands visible, and shook the scarf away from his face. She just stared at him in shock for a moment, then her eyes rolled and she began to fall.
This was definitely something new. He reached out quickly and caught her with all four of his arms before she could hit the ground, hoping she was alright. For a moment, she was dead weight in his hands and he stared down at her in concern. Then the rain drops hit her face and her eyes opened. He smiled, glad she was ok. Then she hit him.
It didn't hurt, really. His face was more flexible than most of his shell, yes, but it was harder than human flesh. It surprised him enough to make him let go of her though. She got to her feet and ran into the door, throwing it shut behind her and leaving him outside in the miserable cold as the rain picked up again.
He didn't know why he should have expected any different. It was the same reaction that all the others had had to him. She had just seemed like she was different somehow, since she hadn't screamed and had even tried to help him. But that was before she knew what he was. A monster shouldn't expect anything but screaming and cold rain pattering around him.
The rain hit several of the objects in the metal bin that the man had knocked over in his haste to get away. It made a rather pretty sound. He tried making the same sound and a clear, strong note sang from his throat. He chirred in surprise and tried making the same sound again, finding that he could and that it came rather naturally. So he started to try and form this smooth sound he'd discovered into the human words he had heard. Surprisingly, it worked.
He knew nobody could hear him, as everyone had fled the area already. So he began to experiment with this new sound he could make, which now placed as his favorite. He used the human words to express what had happened to him, how he felt. He sang about what it felt like to be "A Monster in Paris," as the paper had called him. About how everyone and everything feared and rejected him, even the animals on the street. But mostly, it was the sadness that he had never been able to show to anyone.
When he finished, he ducked his head. He was alone. This new sound was wonderful, yes, but it didn't make him any different than he was before. Then he heard a sound and his eyes lifted. She was there.
It was the woman who had run inside moments before. She now stood over him with one of the clever little human devices that kept you dry in the rain. She didn't run away when he looked up at her. No, she spoke to him.
"Do you…Do you have a name?" she asked hesitantly.
He made a chirping sound, trying to gauge her reaction. She smiled a little bit and his heart leapt. She didn't run!
"How about…" she started, looking around her, "Francoeur?"
He knew what the word name meant, but he didn't understand this word, Francoeur. Was she trying to give him a name, like a human would have? He chirred questioningly.
"It means honest heart," she said warmly.
He didn't understand what she said, really, he just liked the way she said it. It sounded so friendly. He made a happy humming sound and smiled. She smiled back.
"Come, follow me," she said, gesturing to him.
He did as her words and gestures instructed hesitantly. She walked backwards, guiding him inside. Was she really going to let him, the monster, go into her home? But she did, and closed the door after him.
He was dripping wet and the chill bit at his joints, but he had never been happier in his short life. She hesitantly took one of his hands and pulled it gently towards another door.
"Come with me, Francoeur," she said gently.
He followed, smiling when she used that word again. He wasn't certain, but he thought she used it to refer to him. If "Francoeur" was his name now, he had no objections.
When she pulled him inside the room, she closed that door too. She just looked at him for a few moments and he stared back at her, eyes wide. Then she started talking again, and he did his best to keep up with what she was saying.
"You're soaking wet," she said, gesturing to him, "Why don't you give me those clothes and we'll find you something else to wear?"
He didn't understand. He knew "wet," "clothes," and "wear," and understood from her tone that she wanted him to do something, but he couldn't connect what. He chirped in a confused way and she sighed patiently, then stepped forward and unwrapped the scarf from around his neck. He stooped to make the task easier for her, and when she took the scarf and hat, he gestured to his wet coat as well.
"Yes, that too Francoeur," she said with a smile, "If you don't mind."
He chirred compliantly and removed the wet coat as well, holding it out to her. She set them down and walked over to a funny little folding wall on the opposite side of the room, going behind it. He stood exactly where he had been before, unsure, and she came back out a few moments later with a large piece of thick, soft cloth. She gestured with her hand that he come over, so he did. Then she pushed him gently towards the seat behind him.
"You just sit on the sofa for a minute while I think of what to do with you," she said, pointing to the seat.
He thought he understood, so he sat down on the soft cushions of the sofa. The woman wrapped the cloth around his shoulders. It was warm and comfortable and dry. He liked it.
"I'll have to find some way to hide you," the woman murmured, moving around the room and sorting through boxes, "The police are looking everywhere."
Francoeur, for he understood that it was indeed his name now, watched her through lidded eyes. Perhaps it was the transition from cold to warm, or the friendly environment. Maybe it was even the pretty sound of the woman's voice as she thought out loud to herself. He yawned and she looked over, smiling at him again.
"You look tired," she said, laying a hand on his shoulder without hesitation now, "Why don't you rest? I can figure out some kind of disguise while you're sleeping."
Francoeur chirped drowsily. He didn't understand her. The woman sighed and walked over to the trunk behind the little wall again; coming back out with another piece of cloth like the one she'd wrapped him in. She laid it over his legs and he chirped gratefully. Then she began to make the sound he'd discovered a few minutes ago, pulling him gently down towards the soft cushions of the sofa so that he rested on his side.
"She's resplendent, so confident, la Seine, la Seine, la Seine," she sang soothingly, fixing the blankets over him so that he was covered completely, "I realize, I'm hypnotized, la Seine, la Seine, la Seine. I hear the moon singing a tune, la Seine, la Seine, la Seine. Is she divine? Is it the wine? La Seine, la Seine, la Seine. I don't know, don't know, so don't ask me why. It's how we love, the Seine and I. How we love…the Seine and I."
Francoeur heard every line. His eyelids started to drop about halfway through the song, however, and by the end he was almost asleep. By the time the woman stood and began rummaging around the room again, Francoeur was dead to the world.
I would only make sense for Francoeur to have heard the song before the performance, given that his music reading skills couldn't be quite that good yet. Leave me a comment if you're reading, I love feedback!