Savoir-faire – To Know and To Do
XXIV: Décrire – To Describe
(cont.) I am very worried.
I want to be... better. (delete)
I... may have grown attached to the boy. (delete)
I am better. I just want the boy to acknowledge my view. (delete)
I would rather be called a monster several times over before he sees my view. It would not be worth the necessary pain and suffering. (delete)
C'est des conneries. J'en ai rien à foutre , Samuel Oak. You wanted this bloody log, you can have it.
Today I strong-armed an illegal migrant Trainer named Léa Morelle. I am convinced that she is a citizen, although she believes that I have the power to deport her. She is with us, at the Pokémon Centre, and I have no idea why am I intervening in this coincidence.
Coincidence?
No. Léa made her choice when she stole Pumpkaboo from me.
Dr du Bois, after her initial blackmail of Léa to follow us to the Pokémon Centre, remained quiet and pensive throughout the ride. Well, she did break out and give a running tour of Coumarine City as seen from the monorail, but nothing really exciting happened. We reached the Centre in record time, where I found Serena, Shauna and Noël in the foyer.
"Erm, guys, this is Léa Morelle. Léa, this is Serena Calme, Shauna, and Noël Duval. All of you share a mutual... dislike of Dr du Bois." I felt stupid immediately after I said that.
Serena gave me a look. "You're not very good at this, are you?"
"I don't usually have enough friends to introduce to each other." A lifetime of travelling across regions pretty much taught that friends were disposable things.
Léa, Shauna and Serena glanced at each other, and gave me pitying looks.
"Anyway, we're planning to go to le marché," Noël proposed. "It's one of the largest open-air markets, by the port."
"Oh, I know it!" Léa replied, enthused when Dr du Bois raised no objections. "You can get Berries cheap there, as well as foodstuffs."
"Great, so... should we go in the evening or in the morning?" I asked.
"Morning," Léa immediately answered, crossing her arms defensively and trying not to glare at Dr du Bois. "The best bargains are at way in the morning. Now, if you don't mind, I need to go back to the Gym for dinner."
"The Gym?" I echoed.
"I got no idea why, but Leader Ramos said that I could stay at the Coumarine Gym," Léa shrugged. "A couple of the Gym Trainers stay there too, 'cause the old man cooks. We have ratatouille often."
"The ratatouille of Coumarine City is nice," Dr du Bois agreed. "I believe Ramos grows most of his vegetables on-site."
"In the Gym?" Noël echoed in interest.
"You'll know," came the enigmatic reply.
"Why don't you call the Gym and tell them that you won't be coming for dinner?" I asked. "After all, dining out with friends is better- Ow!"
I rubbed the area where Dr du Bois had driven her rather sharp elbow into my side, glaring at her. "What?"
"Donar," Dr du Bois gave me the judging eye.
What? All I did was ask her out to dinner with us.
"Thanks, but... I don't have enough cash on hand," Léa shyly answered.
Oh.
...she didn't need to hit me. But I guess Dr du Bois was also kind in her own way.
"I'm actually quite interested in the proposal of Leader Ramos," Dr du Bois commented. "So, I'll leave you young people to settle your own dinner. I'll be waiting here in the Pokémon Centre foyer, so I expect all of you back at dix heures. De quatre heures jusqu'à dix heures... that gives you six hours of free time. Mlle Morelle, I will take you back to the Coumarine Gym."
"Er, Dr du Bois?" I asked when she made towards the counter. "You're not going for dinner with us?"
"Well, I want to meet a friend," she replied. "And I need to work. Bonne soirée!"
"What's up with her?" I muttered as she left us, everyone's eyes flickering between her and I. "What?"
"Did you offend Dr du Bois, Donar?" Shauna warned.
"No! No way!"
I flipped open my Holo Caster to search my contacts, typing out a fast message.
Maintenant, j'suis à Port Tempères, au marché balnéaire. Y a une très meilleure brasserie près du Gym. Ça vous tente? À +. – Marguerite
You're flirting. Why are you flirting? Altair echoed in my head as I walked onwards. Are you alright?
It is surprising exactly how much work one can accomplish on the monorail. There are some scholars that argue that Lumiose had supplanted Coumarine in flow of goods internationally; after all, the Arc-en-Ciel Regional Airport saw much more inflow than la Baie Azur in recent years.
I see a large city, divided across a mound of earth, connected by a vein that is the monorail. One side the mouth, through which Kalos accepts its tributes from the world, the other the gate through which the world's goods fed through Kalos, divided by La Colline de nuages – Cloud Hill. The city centred on either side of the hill, where bay and butte are bound:
Coumarine City.
The greatest port in northern Kalos. In the traditional defence strategy, Coumarine would stand alongside Cyllage and Shalour as the defence line of coastal Kalos. Standing contrast to the Montagne line of Lavarre, Anistar and Snowbelle. Between them sleeps Lumiose, Santalune and Île-de-l'arc.
To reinforce the defence borders as a stable, self-propagating system under the ancien régime, forty great families defended each side, the central line held by the last twenty families as coordinators. Out of the Cent-Feuilles during the Last Dynasty, the three Grand Ducal families rose to high prominence: the Mandragora in coastal Kalos, Coque-lourde in Snowbelle, and Luzerne, based in the heart of Kalos. Despite the Fleur-de-Lis reaching royal status, it can be said that those three lost families controlled all of Kalos, and that their descendants continued to do so.
Léa eyed me peripherally from time to time.
"Is there something?"
"What are you doing?" Léa asked me, clearly suspicious. We were seated side by side in the monorail, waiting as the transport took us smoothly about la Colline .
"I need to speak to Ramos concerning your situation," I replied.
Léa was immediately defensive. "He's done nothing wrong."
Under the International Migration Protocol of the Second Millennium, as well as the Pokémon League Covenant of the Inter-Regional Trainer on2010, Gyms are not cleared as a resting location, save under the stipulations of the Gym Leader and Gym Trainer. Furthermore, the Protocol also states that the housing, whether intentional or otherwise, of an illegal alien is subject to imprisonment. I forbore to mention any of this, though, and instead fixed her with a look. "I was thinking that I should establish a reason why you stayed at the Gym instead of at the Pokémon Centre."
"Well..." Léa sighed. "Leader Ramos offered, and he was so... nice, you know? I'm learning handicrafts from some Gym Trainers, and I usually sell them over the weekend at le marché aux puces, so... it's really cheap to make candles and incense, you know."
"I was not aware that incense-making was a sideline of the Coumarine Gym," I answered, but it was an idea.
"It's not," Léa admitted. "I actually wanted to make a Sachet, but there's no way I can get enough Oran oil. Leader Ramos won't lend me a Pokéball or anything to get a Pokémon either, so I can't get to Camphrier Town."
"Mmm," I nodded as we walked out of the monorail's Hillcrest Station and towards the Coumarine Gym. "Lavender is available in Fourrage Road, as is honeysuckle. I'm sure you can gather some."
Ramos looked up as we entered the Coumarine Gym. In the absence of rushing, I can tell you that the inside of the Gym was not so much a Gym as a miniature forest. Though, in the far distance I could glimpse a set of beehives.
"Are you opening an apiary, Ramos?" I commented to myself.
"Oh, ma chérie, you're back," Ramos smiled. The smile faded somewhat as I walked towards him.
"Can I talk to you, Leader Amaro?" I asked lowly. "Alone?"
"My office." Ramos turned to Léa. " Le dîner ensemble, à la salle à manger. Oui? "
" Je le sais, monsieur, " Léa replied politely. "À bientôt!"
" Bon appétit! " Ramos led me to the elevator that brought us to his tree-top study, at which he secured almost immediately.
"Sprout," he started.
"You know who I am," I stated.
"Oui."
"Léa Morelle," I began.
"Yeah, I know, the Protocol," Ramos nodded. "You gonna make noise 'bout this?"
I sighed. "Ramos, you do know that she's an illegal alien."
"She's got citizenship," Ramos argued.
"Then she can stay at the Pokémon Centre. Does Siebold know?"
"The sprout is preparing for my party," Ramos scoffed. "I just wanna drink that XIX century Tempèra with Wulfric, but no, the petit-fils gotta cater my sixtieth birthday party. 'Sides, you think the Conseil would let me keep Mlle Morelle here?"
"Why?" I asked. "Is this to do with her... family?"
"You already know, how likely the chance is," Ramos gravely replied. "I knew Rachelle Morelle, trust me, and she fled to Unova to escape Achillée Morelle. Familicide runs in that family, never mind that she's barely of age."
"And her lack of Pokémon?" I asked. "This is dangerous."
"I can't let this independence run succeed, not yet," Ramos agreed. "Yeah, it's a stopgap measure. But... look, if you gotta report this, just wait till I get the girl some way away from Coumarine, alright?"
"The Maison Adonis Goutte-de-Sang can't intervene?" I asked.
"Not unless the Morelle attacks the Coumarine Gym, and they ain't that dumb," Ramos sighed. "They're waiting for Léa to finish the independence run. Once she's in the Badlands... after four badges, the League don't give a shit."
I nodded. "You think that Léa Morelle is the lost Morelle heiress."
"I know she is," Ramos sharply answered. "She's also possibly a Pokémorph, which is too outstanding. Achillée Morelle might find out."
"Does he know?" I wondered.
"Possibly," Ramos muttered. "You know how the Morelle and power are like."
"The International Police?"
"Heard that they sent Special Agent Sept," Ramos grumbled. "Dunno about Special Agents or whatnot, but one guy against the Morelle might mean a bloodbath. What will you do?"
I looked at this fierce old man, this resilient oak unafraid to get hiss hands dirty, if only to fight for a girl who had no idea what coming to Kalos might cost her in the end and whose only fault was to be born to a Morelle heiress, the legal heiress. "I don't know. I terrified her, I put the fear of me in her... and I don't know what to do."
"She and that Pumpkaboo are mighty close, that," Ramos commented.
"Right..." I nodded. "I'll see what I can do. But before that, I think I'll go out for dinner. I'll leave Pumpkaboo here to help, since we can't be too careful."
"Noted. Why don't you join us?" Ramos offered.
"No, I couldn't impose."
We talked a bit more about his planned apiary – Ramos was planning on expanding out to an ecologically sound model, and was planning out a proposal with the Santalune Gym to have a forest reserve. While Kalos itself boasted the only forest reserve of its kind – through no fault of its own, rather through the multiple Trevenant occupying it – what Ramos was proposing was similar to a miniature habitat within a Gym.
"This Gym holds Grass-type Pokémon from all over the region, and nearby is the Gym that holds Bug-type Pokémon," Ramos smirked.
"A large, interactive habitat," I understood. "Not only does it fill its own ecological niche within la Colline , there is a food supply chain already in place within the region. Since Coumarine receives regular rainfall and proximity to the Tisane and Vin and to the subterranean Brière, it also has a constant supply of drinking water, and that open canopy allows for regular sunlight. It sounds viable..."
"Yeah, more work to do," Ramos agreed as he showed me to the door. "You'll help that girl?"
"I will do what I can," I answered softly. "Ramos... you stubborn old oak."
"Little sprout," Ramos shot back. "Grew into a lovely daisy, eh?"
"Not so lovely," I answered. " À demain. "
Dinner was partaken of at the brasserie, L'Étape. It sat both humans and Pokémon, so Altair and Darkrai got the places of honour with me when we were shown to our seats. Today I had the Phantump with me, and it clung on tight. I sat him in my lap on the large, reserved table. My dinner date was already here.
" Bienvenue à L'Étape, messieurs et mesdames," the server walked up to our table. "Je m'appelle Martin, je suis votre serveur ce soir. Vous désirez des boissons?"
"Oui, trois carafes de thé à la Baie Pecha." The server nodded and left.
"Three carafes of Pecha Berry tea?" My other human companion commented. "I do hope you're not intending to poison yourself with alcohol."
I looked up from the menu to regard Wikstrom. "Well, now I know that you're here. You finally spoke up."
"Bien sûr," Wikstrom answered, an aperitif and hors d'œuvres already in hand. "Siebold is cooking."
"Très bien," I nodded, smiling as I turned to Darkrai. "Darkrai, this is the part where you order from the waiter. Do you understand?"
One cyan eye flickered, and Darkrai's clawed hand tried to tighten on the white linen. ...I... I don't know how.
"There is nothing wrong," I coaxed. "Remember when we covered articles of food?"
...yes. I do remember, Marguerite... I want the clafoutis.
"Right," I encouraged, even though it meant that I had to coach him through brushing non-existent teeth and plan an extra cardiac workout just to work off the sugar. "How about an entrée and the main dish before dessert, that's a good boy."
Wikstrom looked at the Scizor and Aegislash that were seated at the table, right as his Klefki joined us. "I suppose this is a group date?"
"Certainly," I answered dryly. "Mainly it's to get Darkrai used to public life. I don't know how many times he would enter a restaurant, but it can't hurt to coach him through. After all, functioning in relaxed settings like a brasserie is also a stage."
"Well, Siebold told me that the aïoli is promising," Wikstrom lightly commented. "Of course, we could just have le menu, if you don't want to order à la carte."
"Siebold? Is he aware that his grandfather is keeping a foundling in the Gym?"
"I'm sure Ramos has his reasons."
"So he is aware," I cocked my head. "Is that the reason for your presence?"
"Actually, Grimsley stopped by here," Wikstrom crossed his arms. "Something about meeting a woman after his own heart, a gambler like himself. Why are you suddenly asking me out for dinner?"
" C'est « L'Étape », " I replied, using the name of Coumarine City's top brasserie.
"So you're using me to jump ahead of the queue?" Wikstrom rumbled warmly. "You could call Siebold. He does have stakes in this, you know."
"Not just that," I leered. "I need some real conversation. Being around minors for too long drives me nuts. Siebold is a decent conversationalist, but it's his family. It's not good to mix family and obligations. I feel that, if we can resolve the Morelle situation ourselves without Siebold finding out about the potential threat hidden in his grandfather's house, we should try by all means. The girl's name is Léa Morelle."
"I was unaware that Madame Rachelle Morelle had chosen to return."
"No, not Rachelle Morelle, her daughter," I murmured. "I don't like the danger she poses."
"This, from a Champion of Kalos?" he asked.
"I'm still planning to fake my death," I replied airily. "I'm just waiting for Calem to give up on searching Lumiose and Kiloude to get his arse back. I plan to blow up the dummy I already have in place."
"It will be a sad day for all of us," Wikstrom answered, so sincerely that I could ill afford to disappoint.
Martin came back with the carafes of Pecha Berry tea, the chunks of Berry still floating within, frozen and cool against the fluted glass. It came to a head where each had a glass/bowl/container by which every one of us drank a cup first.
I turned to Martin. "Pour commencer, je voudrais l'aligot."
"Comme entrée?" Martin jotted in a tiny notebook. "Alors, vous voudriez le course complet?"
"Oui."
"Et comme plat, madame?"
"L'aïoli, sans moules."
"Bien. Et comme fromage?"
"Pas de fromage,s'il vous plaît," I answered.
Martin nodded as Altair made his own order – and I thanked any blessed power that I had gone through this mess six times before – and then turned to Darkrai. "Can you communicate via telepathy?"
...yes.
"Ça suffit," Martin gently murmured, guiding the Pitch-Black Pokémon through choosing. Darkrai chose a piperade, a brandade, and a clafoutis, the last of which was a fruit and thick custard tart that Darkrai kept eyeing the menu picture of.
"Well, then," I lifted my glass of tea. " À votre santé !"
A song started up over the speakers, coming from a stage at the far end of the restaurant, blocked by the L-shape construction of the place and the distance from our table and presumably, a jukebox.
Les rêves des amoureux sont comme le bon vin,
Ils donnent de la joie ou bien du chagrin,
Affaibli par la faim je suis malheureux,
Volant en chemin tout ce que je peux,
Car rien n'est gratuit dans la vie.
L'espoir est un plat bien trop vite consommée,
À sauter les repas, je suis habituée.
Un voleur solitaire est triste à nourrir,
À un jeu si amer, je ne peux réussir,
Car rien n'est gratuit dans... la vie !
Jamais, on ne me dira,
Que la course aux étoiles; ça n'est pas pour moi,
Laissez-moi vous émerveiller et prendre mon envol,
Nous allons en fin nous régaler... !
"So how do you feel?" I asked as Darkrai reached for his glass.
I feel... for once, I feel... this is possible.
I don't know the words to this song, Darkrai continued. But it feels like it should have meaning to me.
As the bridge continued, the singer spun into view; green hair, white dress, and smiling as the Gardevoir sung on the stage, to much applause.
La fête va enfin commencer... !
Sortez les bouteilles; finis les ennuis,
Je dresse la table de ma nouvelle vie,
Je suis heureux à l'idée de ce nouveau destin... !
Une vie à me cacher, et puis libre enfin,
Le festin est sur mon chemin...
I hid a smile. Somehow, despite the language barrier, these feelings do not change, and music was one universal language that could touch all.
Une vie à me cacher, et puis libre enfin,
Le festin est sur mon chemin...
Coumarine was surprisingly populated, especially as we passed down one street filled with buskers. Little stages had been set up, some actors in costume standing up to monologue about something once or twice. Most of the plays were in Kalosian, but those in Standard or the rarer performance in Kantonese were amazing.
"Those look pretty," Shauna enthused. "Don't you think so, Serena?"
"I... I guess," Serena crossed her arms, but she looked intrigued.
"Guess we're being dragged around," Noël commented as our arms were grabbed. So, I ended up being dragged around and around-
"Hey, what's this?" Shauna paused in front of an incense shop. The smoky rose scent was intriguing, mixed with something... like salt.
" Bonsoir ! " the guy offered, cheerful and ruddy in his smile. "Would you like a Rose Incense, mademoiselle? Something for your Roselia, eh?"
"Roselia?" Shauna echoed.
"Incenses and items like these don't just smell good!" the owner explained. "Some of them gives luck in battle, some of them make Pokémon slower or faster, some increase the power of some moves. Look, this Incense's from Johto. Rose Incense is used in breeding Roselia and Roserade to Budew, and it also kills insects. Just light it and leave it for about ten minutes, guaranteed!"
"I'll get one," Shauna offered. "Serena, are you buying?"
"Erm, I think I prefer the Sea Incense," Serena deflected.
I picked up one of the different incenses, this one supposedly mixed and for human use. "These are...?"
"Oh, I got those for a song from the Celadon Gym in Kanto," the man replied.
"The Gym?"
"Yeah, really." the man assured. "Erika herself told me that the Grass-type Gyms are thinking about branching into some small businesses. You know, handicrafts, candles, that sort of thing. So, what d'you think?"
I sniffed the incense casually. Jasmine, something flowery and solid... with a bit of Gracidea and Oran berry. Dr du Bois would love this smell. Mum could take the sandalwood-
Wait. What?
"Donar, come along!" Shauna yelled, standing with the rest of them some distance away, beside a kebab stand.
"O- Of course," I replied enthusiastically, running off after I paid for both incenses in their burners. Maybe, if I acted so, I would feel about as hyped as I projected.
The song is 'Le Festin', performed by Camille for the 2007 Pixar movie, wait for it... Ratatouille. Yes, it is French. I was debating between this and 'Je Veux Savoir' from Tarzan as Darkrai's leitmotif.
Critiquez, s'il vous plaît!