Once upon a time...

[timefather]

[ For the residents of Märchenstraße, and all the land surrounding it, the eighth of December was a day to look forward to. Looking at it from an outside perspective, strangers and travelers could easily assume it to be a holiday. At the very least, a day for a festival, if a modest one. A day that shopkeeps spent all morning preparing for, that all manner of creatures spent days traveling to the city to witness. They'd heard the talk that passed around, the rumors from those still left. But would it work? No one knew for sure, no matter how confident the stories seemed to be. But hope was very quickly becoming all they had left.

They had decorated the whole town. Streamers, banners, wreathes and garland made of autumn flowers, plus whatever the Fairy Godmother had cooked up. Oh, she was just giddy. No skepticism could be spoken around her, not if you wanted to escape the wrath of her wand! Rumor had it that she had caught wind of a few piglets squealing about the likelihood that their magic would fail, and that they were subsequently transformed into the band of musicians who could be found performing in the park.

Well, at least the music was festive.

Of course, the decorations weren't for the newcomers alone. Autumn was coming to a close in just a few weeks, and Old Man Winter would take the reigns like he did every year, and their weather would turn cold and harsh. The chill was already there, cool and biting when the wind picked up speed. Lady Autumn was much preferred to the citizens of the city with her gentle nature, even if she failed to show up, finishing her work in the orchards instead. That was what they liked about her.

It was mid-morning when Father Time was found outside of his tower, checking one of the numerous pocket watches he kept on his person. "Unnecessary, but comfortable," he called them, and closed the watch again. It was twelve o'clock in the afternoon, and where empty space had been just seconds before, now they were. Sitting on benches, lying in flower patches, scattered about the city and outside of the gates in peaceful slumber. They would awaken to the bells of the clock tower. Some, to many friendly and relieved faces all around them, some to grateful ones carrying gifts of food and clothing and magic, and some to fearful, cautious faces. Regardless of how the town treated them, they would awaken to a celebration of their arrival, and choices to be made, and the books. Each and every one. ]

Comments

[themortalson]

[One worn boot sways as he sits cross-legged with his hands in his pocket, Shinjiro only raises his head slightly when someone else stirs. Lucky for the grass-waking individuals, the people waiting don't just migrate to the next person to stare until they're up, leaving it relatively quiet.]

[He stops, stares, and grunts.]

This isn't Paris.

[gardienne]

No?

[She laughs easily, quite sure that this strange man is joking]

Then where are we, Monsieur?

[She realises then, that there are a lot of people lying on the grass... and though there are a lot of poor in the Paris she comes from, they do not usually lie about in the open in such a way. She looks back to Shinjiro in confusion.]

Monsieur, if you please, what has happened?

[themortalson]

[Shinjiro's mouth remains a thin line. He doesn't joke often.]

No idea.

[He hasn't bothered asking for a name to the town because he doesn't plan on sticking around. Raising a hand to his head, he adjusts his beanie to scratch his head.]

Look, I woke up here too. None of the assholes would stop cheering long enough to answer any of my questions.

[... Glancing around, seems like he just made every animal within the general vicinity upset. Well, he didn't ask them. Didn't realize that it had been an option more like.]

[gardienne]

[She stops laughing, and instead looks properly at the people staring back at her. And simultaneously, all of them begin to cheer. She's definitely alarmed.]

It cannot be Paris... they cheer us when we sleep in a field. But why? Are they not cross? Why do they not chase us away?

[She looks all around again, her eyes finally lighting on the book next to her, and the pile of matches, and the tattered old apron lying beneath them.]

Are these for me? A book? They are giving me a book? Is it for me? A real book?

[themortalson]

[God he's going to have a migraine. The people are too damn loud. All he can do is shrug because he doesn't know still.]

[A brow rises when she seems to react oddly at the prospects of owning a book.]

If they're next to you, take them. [No one complained when he grabbed his.] But it's not a book. It's a journal.

[gardienne]

What is a journal, Monsieur?

[She's never heard of one before.]

It is not a trick, is it? I will tell you, Sir, I am NOT a thief, and I will not be accused of it here.

[She's lying - but Shinjiro doesn't need to know that. Gingerly, she picks up the journal, stroking her finger almost reverently over it's spine. Then she picks up the matches, turning the bundles over in her hand - but they're just matches. And finally, the apron - she shakes it open: it's dull, an odd greyish-brown in colour, and about as tattered as the clothes Eponine has woken up in.]

I have not had a great many presents, Sir, but this seems to me to be a strange one indeed.

[themortalson]

A journal... it's an empty book you write in.

[There's something amusing at the way he attempts to convince him she's not a thief.]

Don't think I called you one.

[So she is one. He'll have to watch his pockets and Watch. Thing's broken and dented, but he doesn't want to lose it. He sits back as she gathers her things, not understanding the matches and apron himself.]

You can try asking someone, but good luck getting a straight answer.

[gardienne]

Truly?

[ Her dull eyes light up.] Sir, do you know, I can write. And read. I was schooled most carefully, Sir. Shall I show you?

[She leans into whisper.] I do not think I want to ask these people anything, Sir. They give me a funny feeling in my belly, as if they are watching either to crown me or hang me.

Did you not get a present as well?

[themortalson]

You don't have to...

[She's in his personal space and he has to lean back a bit. True; the people here are too damn chipper. Who knows what they're actually thinking.] Lemme ask one of them. They might know. ['Them' being animal.]

I did. Told them to hold onto it for now.

[gardienne]

No?

[She looks vaguely disappointed but says nothing more. When he looks across to the animals, her expression changes from disappointment to utter confusion.]

Do you jest? Sir, I am not as stupid as that - the animals cannot speak. You would do as well to ask the grass we sit on, no?

[themortalson]

No... thanks.

[Why is she that eager to show him?] ... If you want. [Don't look at him like that.]

Not everyone can. Still, the rabbit says this is Märchenstraße... Yeah, I'm not going to remember that. [The wolf snorts] Märchen? Fine.

[gardienne]

Really? Sir - I promise I can write! Look -

[She opens her journal again to show Shinjiro her writing. But his words (thankfully) distract her.]

A rabbit, Sir? A rabbit? Sir, I might look to be stupid, but I know a rabbit makes no sound. But please - Märchen? That does not sound French at all. I have never heard of such a place.

[themortalson]

[Still plenty of writing to show later]

Hey, I'm only translating. And rabbits do make a sound. [It's... cute. Clearing his throat, he shifts his position.] It sounds German to me. Can't say I've heard of 'Märchen' either.

[gardienne]

I have only seen them hanging in a butcher's window, Sir. And oh - they look so delicious. But there, they do not make a sound.

[She grins, showing off her blackened teeth and the dark gaps where they have rotted away completely.]

German... like Germany? That is near France. But I have never seen it. I cannot have walked so far, though, surely? Perhaps I did - perhaps I walked so far out of Paris that I came to Germany?

[Her grin grows. If she's not in Paris, her Pa can't find her!]

Now that is a good thought to have.

[themortalson]

[He raises a hand to his eyes and rubs his face, completely missing the whole lack of dental hygiene. Of course, he's going to be called crazy. Nothing new.]

Maybe, but Germany's no hike from Japan.

[He turns to her, brow raised slightly.]

Oh yeah?

[gardienne]

My Pa can't find me if I am not in Paris. He won't bother - he will just swear and say, 'that ungrateful Eponine has drowned herself in the Seine at last', and my Mama will laugh and say, 'She were good for nuffin' anyway, that one'. They won't look for me here!

[She seems rather satisfied with that, and nods to herself. Moving to pull her knees to her chest and hug her arms about her legs, she shrugs.]

Is Japan your city, Sir? I have never heard of that - or perhaps I have, in the stories. I didn't know it was a truly real place. I thought it was like Greece and the stories they tell, the students, you know? Stories.

[themortalson]

Tch... if the first thing they suspect is you died, they deserve whatever comes to them.

[Shitty, good-for-nothing parents.]

Japan's a country past China. Can't get to it unless you take a boat or--... [Though, looking at her again, planes probably haven't been invented.] ... swim.

[gardienne]

It will save him a job, he will think.

[She shrugs again, completely nonplussed.]

I have never heard of China - no! That is where tea is from, no? I have seen the stamps on the big wooden boxes... I would like to try tea, I think. But it is so expensive.

[She laughs suddenly] Swim, Sir? All the way to Japan? I should think even a sailor would drown. It must take at least a week or two! And how should you sleep? You must tell me about it, one day, if you will. I like stories, Sir.

[themortalson]

[He shakes his head. Her dad was a real jackass then.]

Yeah... I guess most of it's from China. Maybe you could try tea here, but it's only dried leaves flavoring hot water.

[He expected the laugh. He shouldn't have said swim, but it is a funny idea to roll around in his head.] I guess, but I'm not the kind for story telling.

[gardienne]

Well, it is not often that I get hot water, so that sounds to me like heaven, Sir!

[She looks disappointed again.]

Well, you do not have to. I cannot demand it of you - and of course you have better things to do than entertain a girl such as me with your stories, no? You do look too grand to be talking to me, really, Monsieur. Your hat looks lovely and warm.

[themortalson]

[Right. Considering things, it makes sense she doesn't get much hot water... or just clean water for that matter.]

[He chuckles darkly]

Grand? Time's change... [Still, it's hard to explain] ... What year is it?

[Not for Marchen. He makes sure the animals get that.]

[gardienne]

Eighteen thirty two, Sir.

[She looks puzzled at the question] At least, about then. I do not know - the years all roll into one. Nothing changes, except my clothes getting tattier and my feet colder. Why do you ask? Surely you know the year, Monsieur.

[themortalson]

[Shinjiro makes a face]

It was twenty-ten last I looked at a calendar. Time probably doesn't matter here though.

[gardienne]

The date? But - that is - that is not a date. I could not be so mistaken, I am sure. I do not understand this place. It seems magical... but magic isn't real.

[She's just completely lost now.]

Sir, what do we do now?

[themortalson]

Can't believe in everything you're told.

[He would know, but he's not going any further.]

Well, we know where we are. We still don't know who brought us here and why.