It seemed that Descole was fairly serious about wanting her to do some translations for him, because when she woke up the following day there were some aged papers on her desk, some of which were a bit worn around the edges. An notebook with empty pages opened next to them with two, black pens. The writings on them were obviously Azran and looking through the first page, they didn't seem too challenging for her skill. Some of the glyphs might require a little more thinking but unless she came across a word she had never seen before there shouldn't be anything she couldn't translate.

However, if this was just for Descole then why should she do it? Elaine just slapped the paper she was holding back down on the desk and went back to bed. The only thing that kept her from just simply ripping the pages up was simply because they could have something fascinating in them, something of great importance. To destroy them would be a crime against her field of work! Not to mention if she found a way to escape she planned to take those documents with her. Might as well have something to make up for this entire farce.

There was also the fact that... Well Elaine wouldn't admit it out loud or even to herself, but there was a part of her that was a little uneasy about Descole. She wouldn't like to use the words 'scared' or 'frightened'. Ignoring those words made it easier to try and stand up to Descole. She would have to if she was going to survive here before escape came her way.

It was when Elaine had just pulled the bed sheets over her that something occurred to her. How did those sheets get on her desk to begin with? Thinking on it a little more, Elaine mentally cursed herself for not thinking of locking her door and quickly got out to lock it before returning to the comfort of the mattress and bed sheets, to make another trip to dream land. Possibly the only place she could find peace until she could return to her life.

Thinking it over some more, she may not even be the one who has to rescue herself. Maybe if she was lucky, the Tritons' might notice and go to the excavation site back at Misthallery. If not, then surely her family and work colleagues were bound to notice sooner and later and an investigation would be started. They would probably look into Descole as a suspect. Elaine would be surprised if it turned out they didn't.

But those thoughts halted when she heard a click at her door. Was it unlocked? But how? She pressed the lock in, didn't she? But then again, the idea that there would still be a key to the door had never crossed her mind until now so it made Elaine frustrated with herself for not considering that possibility. It certainly explained how those papers got on her desk.

"Not starting work yet, Hawthorne?" Elaine shut her eyes tightly as she heard Descole's voice, and refused to turn over to face him. Maybe if she stayed still long enough and didn't acknowledge him he might go away, thinking she was sleeping still.

Or would he just force her awake? Both were possible though Elaine had to admit that the later seemed more likely.

This was proven when she felt Descole's hand grip her shoulder, his fingers digging in almost painfully, before forcing her onto her back to look up at him. He seemed disgruntled from what Elaine could tell from his mouth.

"Ah, good. You are awake."

"I'm not working." Elaine said quickly. Might as well say it while she could. Descole didn't say anything at first. Whether that was good or bad would be a question for some, but Elaine was more inclined to lean towards the later. This was an idea proven true when Descole's grip left from her shoulder to the front of her clothes and tugged her up sharply before looking at her directly in the eye.

"It's either translate, or hunger. You decide." He growled. Elaine seemed hesitant for a moment. Her lower lip trembling just a bit. But she already had the words in her mind set.

"I said, 'I'm not working'." Elaine repeated herself, her muscles tensing in preparation for whatever Descole may decide to do. Surprisingly though, he just let go of Elaine, causing the Frenchwoman to fall back on the bed only to push herself up as Descole took his leave.

"I expect those translations shoved under the door outside the hall. Expect no meal until then." Descole all but slammed the door shut, making Elaine wince a bit before the sound of the door locking from the outside was heard.

Elaine gave a worried frown, already second guessing her decision. How long would she actually survive without food? Considering she had a fairly slim figure, her worry could only grow as she hardly wanted to die feeling what were bound to be tortuous starvation pains.

But then she tried to reason with herself. Descole himself said she was of some value to him, yes? So, surely he wouldn't let her die. If Elaine could just hold out for maybe a week, maybe two weeks even, Descole will cave in first. It was a gamble but it's not like all gambling bets were doomed to fail from the start. It just depended on how the dice rolled. Who knows? Perhaps Descole was just trying to scare her into doing the translations? It did seem like something her would do when she thought about it. He didn't let Brenda Triton or Doland Noble starve, so why let her?

While Elaine did get out of her bed, she didn't even give the papers a second look. She just paced around the room, thinking and thinking. Either or possible plans to leave or trying to picture stories she could remember in her head, like a metal cinema. She even read from one of the books provided in the room to alleviate boredom.

Elaine wasn't surprised when there was no food for the rest of the day. She been expecting that and ignored the growls of her stomach. The second day she figured would be the same as well, and she suspected the third as well.

But by the fourth day Elaine was beginning to feel concern, as hunger pains were unable to be ignored. She tried to imagine herself eating food, and trying to convince her mind she was actually eating. The mind was a powerful tool and while it wouldn't actually fill her empty stomach it did take her mind off of it for a while.

By the fifth day, Elaine had moments where she would feel dizzy. She felt thankful that she had access to water from her en suite sink. She possibly would have been in a worser state if not for that. How much worser she couldn't say, but it could have been.

Elaine began to wonder if Descole was some sort of sadist by the sixth day. From what Elaine knew of his fight with Loosha, he seemed to fairly enjoy himself. Though killing Loosha may not have been his exact intention. Elaine only told herself that because she had been an unconscious hostage then and with information coming from then panicking people, it would just seemed biased to assume Descole was truly a sadist. Maybe he had at the very least some sadistic tendencies, or just simply liked being in control and having people under his thumb and going along with puppet strings held by him.

But at the end of the day, Elaine just scoffed at all of it. There was no point trying to figure out such things about Descole. Not now anyway.

The following day, Elaine started to notice that the paper in the notebook started to look good. That was when Elaine allowed herself to once again worry about whether letting herself starve was actually worth it at all. The dizzy spells only got worse as the hunger pains and if this went on she would hardly have any strength to do anything.

On the eight day, Elaine just couldn't take it. It was bitter, rotten even. But Descole won this little battle. He wanted those damn translations and nothing was going to change his mind.

If she was wasn't so hard headed and proud, even with the small blow this entire week had on her pride, she may have whimpered just a bit as she practically crawled out of bed the next morning, lightly stumbling to the desk and sat down. Picking up a pen and looking at the first sheet, she began translating what she could get through her head, even if her thoughts right now were far from linear. She wanted to cringe slightly at how her normally small, neat cursive writing looked a little sloppy now. A result of her practical hunger strike.

Hearing her door unlock, she didn't bother looking up. She imagined he was smirking. Looking like pretentious, triumphant wolf that just cornered a defenseless rabbit before ripping it's throat out. She didn't want to hear the gloating, the self praise.

But she heard something heavy placed on the table and glanced to her side. A plain, wooden tray with a plate filled with sliced bread rolls and a small plate with butter and butter knife, along with a cup of tea. For a second she thought it was in fact Raymond who placed the food but looking up she saw a scowling Descole.

"I can't tell whether to applaud your tenacity or slap you for your stubborn stupidity." He muttered. "I am glad to see though that you are finally letting your current role sink in." Elaine looked back at the food, feeling very tentative. This felt more like a draw if anything. If she had waited just a few minutes longer, perhaps this could have been a victory towards her. However, he came anyway, which somewhat softened the blow. Maybe it was for the best anyway. What could have came after starvation would certainly not have been pleasant.

"Eat." Descole told Elaine sharply. She had been too lost in her thoughts to actually eat. Swallowing, Elaine took a slice and took a big bite from it. Savoring the soft and still slightly warm texture in her mouth before letting it down her throat. She could have sworn she felt it drop to the very bottom of her stomach. Descole took the notebook Elaine had been using and looked at it.

"... Finish your breakfast, then continue." He told her simply as he put it back on the desk. "I'll send Raymond up with lunch later."

"Why did you bring up breakfast then?" Elaine questioned after finishing the slice she had taken. It felt like a risky question, but it just slipped out.

"He was busy with another errand." Descole replied, now sounding bored. He then turned around to leave. Elaine didn't say another word and took a sip of her tea before buttering her next slice. Descole however had one last thing to say before leaving.

"Don't try to starve yourself again, Hawthorne. I want a Azran glyph translator, not a dead woman in my house."

OMAKE THEATRE! Where Layton characters are chibi-fied!

"Descole-kun! Descole-kun!"

Descole sighed as he heard Elaine add 'kun' to his name. He regretted letting her watch those darn Japanese animes and mangas. With their Japanese words, cutesy designs, fucking twisted deaths, nice characters, psycho characters, abnormally large breasts-"

"DESCOLE-KUN!"

"WHAT?!" Descole snapped looking at Elaine, but frowned when he saw her holding giant, white eagle wings. His kidnappee smiled cheerfully though.

"I found these pretty wings, and with them I shall fly!"

"... Elaine, those are for Randall when we get to Miracle Mask." Descole bluntly told her. "Put them back where you found them."

"Non! I'm going to put them on, and fly! I'll migrate to Paris for the summer! Like a beautiful swan!"

Naturally, this confused Descole, who's frown only deepened.

"... Migrate to Paris... Like a... Beautiful, swan?"

"Yes! Like a fucking swan!" Elaine snapped as she put the wings on her back and faced the window of the study that was suddenly open. Keep in mind, they were on the third floor. Just then, Raymond entered carrying the tea tray.

"Ah, is Ms. Hawthorne leaving now?" Raymond sounded like this was normal. Because of this, Descole wondered briefly if it was a good idea to break Raymond out of that old persons' home in exchange for being his butler. He couldn't remember the last time he gave the older man his pills.

"R-Raymond, Hawthorne... You don't actually believe she can-"

"I BELIEVE I CAN FLY!" Elaine began singing high, and out of tune as she ran towards the window. "I BELIEVE I CAN TOUCH THE SKY! I THINK ABOUT IT EVERY NIGHT AND DAY!"

"HAWTHORNE YOU CRAZY FRENCH BITCH, STOP!" Descole yelled, running after the clearly insane woman as she got to the window and jumped out.

"SPREAD MY WINGS AND FLY AWAY!"

Descole had been ready to hear the screams of upcoming death. The sound of body becoming a rag doll against the ground with blood coming out of her.

Instead, much to either his shock or horror, he saw the wings were flapping. Elaine Hawthorne was ACTUALLY flying!

"Wh-what...? How...?" Descole stammered. He was nearly tempted to take his mask off to make sure his eyes weren't fooling him. "This isn't possible. This defies everything-"

"I might as well go out and stretch my arms." Raymond interrupted, suddenly on the windowsill with his arms outstretched.

"RAYMOND, NO! YOU DON'T HAVE WINGS!" Descole yelled before Raymond jumped out, flapping his hands. Again, to Descole's shock, he saw that Raymond too was flying. Tweeting like a bird, Scottish one in this case, and flying around like he just didn't care. But Descole returned his attention to Hawthorne. It seemed the wings might have been heavier then they looked because Elaine wasn't moving too fast. She wasn't falling to the ground or anything. She just wasn't escaping fast enough.

Hesitant, Descole stood on the ledge and gripped the edges of his fancy cloak and took a deep breath.

"I... I believe I can fly. I believe I can touch the sky. I think about it every night and day." Descole began flapping his cloak like wings. "Spread my wings, and FLY AWAY!"

Descole took his leap of fate. Much to his shock, he was actually flying. Not falling to the ground whatsoever. He looked back up at Hawthorne and laughed.

"HAHAHA! YOU WON'T ESCAPE FROM ME NOW, HAWTHORNE!" Descole began laughing as he began flying after Elaine. However, the weight of his cloak meant he was just as slow as Elaine.

Sometime later in London...

Professor Hershel Layton was in one of his classes, going over some Greek mythology with his students.

"Sir?" One student questioned. "You know that story, Icarus and Daedalus? The one where the boy flew too close to the sun?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think it be possible for something like that to happen in real life?" The Professor chuckled lightly as he shuck his head.

"Of course not. It's just a myth. A very creative one, but a myth none the less. Feathers would hardly hold up the weight of an average man." The student frowned before glancing out the window.

"Then, um... You may want to see this." The Professor walked over to the window his student was looking out of and started to question logic as he saw Elaine with white eagle wings going by with a laughing Descole flapping his cloak after her.

"... We-well... I... I suppose, there's always a first for..."

Then Raymond flew by, still flapping his hands as he tweeted.

"... Class dismissed."

Professor Layton, for the first time ever, felt an urge to drink something other then tea for once.

Preferably alcohol filled.