“Likewise, Monsieur.” She reaches out her hand to grasp his. She couldn’t force away her smile when he instead takes her fingers and places a courteous kiss. The flush of his skin catches her eye, as did how has been a few deep breaths. It has been at least six weeks since she had visited Paris, but this man’s reputation of getting into trouble is still deeply set into her understanding, if not the whole city. She has heard of him being the king of gypsies, but never quite thought about it. A single brow climbs in curiosity, her rose colored lips curling into a smug grin. “I hope you are not in too much trouble?”
“Moi? Trouble? Now whatever gave you that idea, mon cher?” The man pressed a hand to his chest as those eyebrows went up in false surprise. It was obvious that this male was simply putting up a little front for the other. He came to take a seat beside her; keeping a close eye out for any guards that might be in search of him. Clopin would be in far greater trouble with Esmeralda if he didn’t hurry back to the catacombs, but it wasn’t everyday he was lucky enough to run into this woman. She did snatch his attention whenever he spotted her during one of his little puppet shows. “But putting that aside…what is it that you’re reading there?” He then slid his gaze down towards the book nestled in her lap.
Let’s see if Esme likes my new dance number. Fufufufufu.
I’ve recently finished this, but it seriously could use more work. colors are still not my strong point, but at least I know i’m not bad at them :P
The little Story Line for this one:
Belle watches the jester perform his little show, giggling amongst the children. The ending of the story was near, and she has an idea he is going to call her again; this time, she came prepared.
“Mon Princesse. Will you please come here?”
Belle smiles, a mischievous sparkle fluttering in her eyes.
She grants the request, walking up to her amour, her impish smile growing all the more. He speaks as his puppet, Clopet.
“A kiss from mon princesse?” Clopet asks, his voice pitched high, as his larger counterpart is already bending to receive his requested kiss, making Belle laugh inwardly; he apparently thinks if he asks, he WILL receive. She comes closer to his puckered lips, until she silently steps back and reaches into her basket, pulling out her little surprise.
Clopin feels the depression on his lips, and he kisses what is supposed to be Belle’s lips! The sensation, however, told him otherwise. He opens his eyes, then they fully pop to Belle’s impish grin. He looks down to find the little puppet replica of his amour gripping his face, seeming like she was kissing him back with great fervor with her little, smiling lips.
“A kiss for mon king.” Belle tells him, her face glowing with triumph.
This woman… He is going to marry her one day. But that will wait, he thinks as his own grin grows upon his face.
Revenge first.
“Such cruelty, mon amour! This shan’t be an action forgotten.”
Don’t interrupt me!: Un nouveau départ;
Two year has gone by since Adam’s death, and Belle was left with the castle and the comfort of f her friends. She decided it was time she had to try to move on. Of all the dresses and trinkets, she chooses her simplest blue frock. She isn’t going as Princess Belle today.
Her mind is pulled out of the reverie of her adventure, reality biting into her when she hears ‘Princess’. apparently, looking like a peasant girl doen’t push away recognition. She looks up, her head recoiling in surprise. It is the storytelling jester addressing her. His brightly colored tunic would have been enough for her to tell, but she is even more surprised to see him without his mask. His face lit with a charming smile, his eyes the darkest onyx she had ever seen. She straightens, scrutinizing to remember his name. “I am. And you are… Clopin? The storyteller. I used to often watch your shows.” She smiles, happy she remembered his name. She comes closer, cupping a hand to her face, whispering, “but please, Monsieur. I’m in hiding.” She laughs softly.
“Ah, you’re correct, mon cher!~” He exclaimed at her getting his name correct. The male was rather well known around these parts as the king of all gypsies and one of the best storytellers Paris had to offer. Clopin lowered his voice into that of a hushed tone; pursing his lips out. “I see, I see. Well it’s still a pleasure to see you once more, Mademoiselle.” The man took a hold of her hand for a moment and pressed a kiss to the back of it — that charming smile curling up onto his sun kissed features.
Two year has gone by since Adam’s death, and Belle was left with the castle and the comfort of f her friends. She decided it was time she had to try to move on. Of all the dresses and trinkets, she chooses her simplest blue frock. She isn’t going as Princess Belle today.
She’s simply Belle.
“Belle?” She turns to see Lumiere gawking at her choice of wardrobe. “Mon ami, but this is so simple.” He berates her in such a fatherly fashion, she only laughs.
“I wish to be simple today Lumiere. As a matter of fact, ” She grins with a twirl, “I wish to visit Paris today.”
Lumiere smiles. “Then would you want an escort today, Princesse?”
Belle shakes her head. “Non, Lumiere. Actually, I wish for no one to know who I really am. You are not to call me princesse today.”
Lumiere nods in understanding. “As you wish, Milady. But please let me have ze honor of taking you to your carriage.” he offers his arm with a grin, one Belle returns when she gently grasps his arm.
“Please lead the way.”
—
Belle calls to the carriage driver, asking him to drop her off a few yards from the city. “But Princesse! You cannot walk there on foot.” She turns to him with a glare.
“Francois, you understand I’ve learned to do that all my life before living in a castle. I know this city from top to bottom,” She chastises gently.
“But milady, it’s not the place of a princess.”
Belle places her hand on his knee in reassurance. “I’ll be fine. But you must understand: I miss being just a normal person, Francois. Please, until tonight, just let me be the simple peasant girl.” She looks up at him, a reassuring smile gracing her features. Francois’s heart swells at her sweetness, sighing.
“As you wish, Milady.” Belle pats his knee.
“Thank you.” And with that, she walks to a very familiar fountain in the middle of the city, eager to just sit and read, and just listen to the people. As much as she loves living at the castle, she misses the simplicity of a peasant. She finds the fountain with no difficulty, and sits, watching the people, as they weave by her with schedules and shouts of loss of time. She thinks of Adam… quickly she shakes her head, not wanting her ray of light be dampened by sad memories. She opens her book, intrigued to find what adventurous wonders will plague her mind for nights to come.
The townsfolk gasped as they saw nothing except a flash of bright colors pass them by; watching the pack of guards that followed in suit. Clopin Trouillefou. The leader of all the gypsies. One of France’s greatest entertainers. A man of romance and charm. The one that could very well steal you blind to provide for his people. A grin spread across his lips— flicking his gaze back behind him at the angry group of raging soldiers. “Ha!” He tipped his hat to them before turning a sharp corner and taking off down into one of the man alleyways of Paris. The male glanced around his surroundings to see just what he could use to his advantage.Knowing very well the others were hot on his trail. A smirk soon found it’s way onto his feature accompanied by an arched brow.Clopin picked up on his speed — lunging forward and grasping a hold of one of the many horizontal poles that jutted out from the buildingsthat one would hang a sign upon. Gripping onto it tightly with those gloved hands and swinging forward into a front somersault onto the roof top.The gypsy then took off — darting from roof to roof with a certain agility.
“Stop! Thief!”
One of the men shouted from below as they were having trouble keeping up with Clopin now. He would glance back towards the fumbling herd that came to a hault as their path had been blocked off due to the high buildings. The man chuckled before blowing a mocking kiss towards them and saluting the foolish bunch. “Au revoir, my good men!” And with that he took off towards the Court. For he had plans with a certain gyspy girl. The beautiful Esemeralda! Ah, how cross she could be if he merely didn’t show up for their little meeting. After all, he had so much he wanted to know since her supposed ‘death.’
He came to stop behind one of the large buildings — peeking around the corner of it to make sure he wouldn’t be spotted any of the guards. Clopin sighed in relief and made a dash for that path that led to the old cemetary. The gypsy weaved his way through the streets and started to pass by the foutain before he suddenly came to a stop. His gaze fell upon the woman perched upon the fountain’s edge; nose shoved into a book. One in which he couldn’t read the title of as that was a skill he hadn’t quite learned. It took him a moment to figure out just who this person was as he did know just about everyone in Paris. Being the king of gypsies, he had certain connections. ‘Ah, got it!’ He thought to himself whilst snapping his fingers.
“Mademoiselle Belle am I right? Or rather, Princesse Belle.” Clopin removed his hat for a moment and gave a bow before placing it back upon his head.
[Who all do I owe replies to? I’m a bit confused at the moment. If I do owe you a reply then send me the link to it as stuff tends to get buried.]
((Dear gawd…. the picture that kingofallgypsies submitted in…. You My Friend Are Going To Murder Me With Clopin Sexiness!!!!!!!))
[Fufufuufufu.~ Should I torture you more?]
FUUUUU
/face turns red, runs away before more pictures of Clopin can shown/
[Iloveyou. Andyouknowit. xD I shall let you be. For now.~]
((Dear gawd…. the picture that kingofallgypsies submitted in…. You My Friend Are Going To Murder Me With Clopin Sexiness!!!!!!!))
[Fufufuufufu.~ Should I torture you more?]
