Alice S Shop The Center Of The European Resistance

Who: Alice, Amie, Auguste, Chevalier, Christiane, Genevieve, Henrik, Jaroslav
What: A chance run-in develops into an impromptu Resistance meeting.
When: April, 1941

Arras
Coordinates : 16 4

A fine example of a French town, despite the signs of modern warfare with several buildings completely ruined by German bombs. One area of this block is almost completely wiped out, other areas are completely untouched and makes a stark contrast to the ruins.

Sub-Rooms :
1. Air Raid Shelter
2. Alice's Sew Shop

The sun is rising, as Henrik finds his steps moving toward the shop of Arras' favorite seamstress. The big foreigner's face is set into its common stern cast, as he lets his breath out, noting with silent satisfaction that it isn't cold enough to mist, at this hour.

Christiane steps out of the cafe, closing the door behind her. The place isn't open yet at this hour, so she makes sure the door is locked before she goes. She doesn't head up the street right away, taking a moment to check the herbs she's got growing in the window boxes. It's just getting warm enough that she can plan new ones, which are poking up through the soil.

Kitties and Alice. A quiet, certain presence here. Even they seem surprised how people have come to rely on them and visit. But still, her door is open. An orange tabby and a slender white female cat watch the world from the shop's windows. They miao at visitors, perhaps hungry for pettings? Alice steps out a moment, to beat the welcome back. "They never wipe their feet…"

Used to being up and about early, it really is a part of her day to be out and about doing a few deliveries before the sun has risen. Basket hooked over her arm, Amie approaches the a ll too familiar seamstress shop, arching an eyebrow as she spots Henrik in the general area.

Henrik slows his steps, as first Christiane, then Alice, and lastly Amie emerge onto the street within moments. "Madame Morgenstern," he mutters in level greeting first. "Madame Chevalier," is noted next, before, "MAdemoiselle," is muttered to Amie. "Hrm," he grunts wordlessly. "Good timing for once."

"Good morning," Christiane says, a general sort of greeting, once she's finished with her window boxes. As she heads up the street she, like the others, lingers near Alice's shop. The sight of the cats prompts a little smile. "If I had been thinking, I would have brought some scraps for them."

"Monsieur Henrik! And Madame Morgenstern!" Alice waves, distracted from her rug punishing. She doesn't notice Ami just yet. And the cats look at Christiane hopeful. Maybe back rubs then? Their tails flick, almost in unison.

"Bon matin," Amie responds with a gentle smile as she looks amongst the familiar faces, shifting the basket to her other hands. She glances towards Alice at the wave, head tilting to the side as she slows down before Henrik's comment draws her attention back to him. "Timing for what?

"Scraps?" Henrik echoes with a quizzical frown, before noting the source of Christiane's smile. "Oh. The animals." A short shrug, as he draws a fresh breath and looks between the three for a moment. He answers Amie evenly, "I was thinking to speak with the each of you, today. Had questions, if you all have the time and breath for answer."

Christiane reaches down to scratch the cats between their ears, trying to spread the petting around. She wouldn't want either of them to feel left out. "I have to be at the hospital for an early shift," she replies to Henrik. "Doctor Schmidt is, as always, cross if we are late." But she frowns. "I have a moment I can spare, though, I suppose."

The animals prefer to watch the ladies, aware Henrik might not approve of them. Alice tilts her head and nods. "Please, come in then. No one is in, so I was cleaning the mat…" She beats it one last time. Camille and Iggy purr in turn, their chests rumbling, eyes closing and ears leaning back. They love it. Alice opens the door, if the offer is accepted.

Amie hrms softly to Henrik before her gaze slides to Alice. "I've a few extra buns sin here." she offers, motioning to the basket with a sparkle to her eye. "Perhaps a bite to eat while we chat?"

"Hrm," Henrik rumbles under his breath at Christiane's answer. "I'll be short then." A curt nod to Alice, turning to face toward the shop, before asking Christiane quietly, "The other day, when you went into the Town Hall. How much did you see?" Much abused hands settle idly at his hips, thumbs hooking the waistline.

Auguste arrives from the North.

«Game» Amie moves into Alice's Sew Shop.

Auguste strolls in slowly, his eyes not searching the buildings any more, but now locked directly on his feet.

Christiane accepts the invitation into the shop, relaxing a little when she's off the street. She tilts her head at Henrik, brow furrowing, as if puzzled by his question. "See? Of what, Monsieur?"

Alice smiles, as the two enter her shop. Kitties linger near, sniffing at any who dare get close! Tiny wet kitty noses! "Bonjour," She greets Auguste and Amie as well, perhaps covering for Henrik and Christiane. But she smiles at Amie, "Oh really? How tempting … that would be lovely."

Auguste raises a hand in greeting, though he remains on the street. His eyes hover over Henrik and Amie for a moment before travelling on to Christaine and Alice.

"Indeed." Amie agrees with a soft chuckle, pulling back the material from the top of the basket to reveal the lovely little golden brown balls. Nothing fancy, there hasn't been since the German's arrival, but tasty enough.

Henrik looks back over his shoulder as greetings pass between thier hostess and someone still outside. He eyes Auguste briefly, before looking back at Christiane, to clarify in a volume that shouldnt carry as far as Auguste. "Of everything. How many guards were walking about, which rooms they had closed off.. which zones they permitted you to walk through. Whether you heard any radios. Everything, madame."

Auguste leans against a wall, staring quietly into the shop, but making no move towards it. He remains far out of earshot as he watches the patrons inside, though his gaze continues to flit back to Amie and he begins tapping his foot rather impatiently.

Christiane's eyes narrow at Henrik. "I am not sure what…use anything I saw would be to you, Monsieur. And why, I must ask, do you want to know?" Though, after taking a breath, she doesn't wait before answering. "There seemed to be…many guards. Though some seemed to be German officers working as well, so I cannot be sure how many were there for that purpose. They do not seem to let our own people do much without their approval." She frowns. "After I had showed them my papers they did not bother me much, so long as I went about my business. I was trying to see if there was any word of my brother but…" She sighs. "It is not as if they care much to look, and I am not sure I would want to find him, as things stand now. I can do him no good here."

"It is appreciated, thank you." Alice blinks, as Auguste taps his foot. "Are you waiting for someone monsieur?" Alice asks him quietly. She says nothing, as she is listening to Henrik and Christiane. And the kitties are wriggling their noses, smelling human food!

Henrik returns Christiane's flat regard without a change in his expression. "Did you see or hear any radios, madame?" The deep voiced, stonefaced swede answers nothing else of Christiane's question. Glancing away from the woman only a moment, he picks up one of the bakery rolls Amie has generously offered and tears off a bit of the bread, as he looks back the Madame Morgenstern.

Amie seems ignorant of the gaze on her back, and instead moves about with her promised delivery of snacks. Stepping over to Christiane first, she pulls a bun from the basket and offers it to the woman. "It will become a tradition, my feeding you before work, non?" she murmurs with a faint smile before she turns as Henrik takes one for himself. She smirks faintly before starting forward, towards Alice.

Christiane takes a roll with a murmured thanks to Amie. Not that she digs in right away. She just holds it, turning it over in her hands. "I…" She thinks for a moment, as if trying to remember. "I think so. Not that I could see from where they allowed me but…farther back. Where the officers were working. What the devil are you thinking of, Monsieur Svensson?"

When in range, Alice will accept one of the rolls. She will break off a couple of tiny bits to let her felines sniff. "They thank you," She smiles lightly. Now it is Alice's turn to listen, going quiet and watching her doorway, wide blue eyes alert.

"Further back," Henrik echoes Christiane, eyes narrowing in attempted recollection. "Down the corridor toward the back wall- Or another place?" the bit of baked goodness is put in his mouth and chewed. Idly, he remembers to give a nod of thanks to Amie, albeit after the fact.

"They are quite welcome. I'm only sorry I was unable to bring a bit of cream for them." Amie murmurs down to the cats, bending at the knee to allow herself to reach a hand out to try and scritch the kitties ears before she tilts her head to look up to Alice before glancing out the door, a gentle frown forming as she sees Auguste there. She murmurs, quietly, "How long has he been there?"

Auguste makes no attempt to hide himself or his actions as he continues looking over the crowd inside the shop, his eyes still mainly going to Amie.

Chevalier arrives from the North.
«Game» Chevalier moves into Alice's Sew Shop.

"I…I suppose it was down the corridor," Christiane answers, lowering her tone. And eyeing Henrik with increasing worry. "Monsieur Svensson, Town Hall is crawling with Germans. Bureaucrats and guards alike. You cannot be thinking…" She can't even finish that sentence.

"… Awhile," Alice whispers back. "And they appreciate the love nevertheless. I think they know," Alice smiles down at her felines. They are sniffing at Amie's hands, and the female even sticks her tongue out. Taste test! Hmm! Her tail flicks. Iggy is headbutting her hand already. Love me! Alice furrows her eyebrows, maybe seeming concerned a moment.

Amie meets Augustes gaze for a moment before breaking away to nod slightly, focusing her attention back on the cats. "He was there when the Father was taken for questioning." she murmurs, quietly before she pushes up to her feet, setting her basket aside, goods one again covered. Half-turning, she eyes Henrik, having caught enough of his questions to be curious.

Chevalier steps into the shop and closes the door. He takes a quick peek through the window then turns to face those in the room.

Henrik cuts off Christiane's fading words with the simply stated, "No, I cannot be thinking that. Thank you, the answers have been what I'd hoped for." Another bite of the roll, as he regards Amie and Alice anew, gaze shifting as chevalier appears outside the shop. As ever, the swede is scowling.

"Monsieur Chevalier!" Christiane can't hide her surprise when he steps into the shop. Though her nerves were probably heightened by Henrik's talk. "Good morning." She says only that for the moment, though she does eye the Swede with evident concern.

Chevalier raises an eyebrow at the exuberant greeting from Christiane, he then offers his most charming smile, "Good Morning Christiane." He then looks from her to the ever sour Henrik and back to her, "How are you this morning?"

And a Chevalier! Alice tilts her head, then waves and smiles. "I see…" She replies quietly. The felines are still adoring Amie, circling and brushing against her like fuzzy sharks. "Monsieur Chevalier!" She grins. Alice seems to cheer, seeing everyone around her.

"Monsieur," Amie adds her own greeting into the chorus of others, having absolutely no issue with the felines circling her ankles as if they were sprayed with catnip.

Chevalier offers a smile and nod to all the greeters.

"Hrm," is the nearest Henrik gets to greeking the older gentleman verbally. On to the syubject of Auguste, "As for the man across the road, he and his family are running from the fascists. Has a mouth. Like her-" he notes, jerking his head toward Amie. "Not worried much about him."

"Running?" Christiane frowns, turning to try and get a good look out the window at Auguste. She sighs. "He has chosen a poor place to run to, then. There is little peace from the fascists here. Something I do not think will change any time soon."

Amie throws Henrik a mild glare. "My mouth is just fine, thank you." she mutters, almost petulant. Definately the youngest of the gathering, t hat's for certain. Another brief glance out the window before she looks back to Henrik. "I think I held my tongue quite well, thank you. You may not care that they took the Father, but I do. Of all the people…"

Chevalier looks at Henrik and in a matter of fact but still pleasent tone says, "How many in the family?"
"Sheesh, you'd think people would figure out after their friends got here…" Alice muses, rubbing the back of her head. Surely word about the Facists had gotten out? Felines adore Amie, sniffing and snuffling at her, daring to plant wet feline noses on skin! Sniff check! "…" She falls quiet and looks down at the mention of the Father. "I think it is simply midnight, of a long long night." A cryptic answer, that. "But we still see. Anyway. If anyone wishes to sit… please feel free to come in."

Chevalier checks his pocket watch.

"Four others, if I remember right. Parents and two sisters," Henrik answers Chevalier, before noting aside to Christiane, "Maybe not so poor. He wouldnt be the first to hide from the fascists here." Matching cryptic comment for cryptic comment, it seems. Turning to Amie, he rumbles, "Care all you want. Just keep your teeth together when the germans start arresting people, unless you want to get dragged along."

Amie hrmphs softly at Henrik's advice before she nods to Christiane. "Nor can I. Nothing more than we might be, in which case he should be celebrated. But not yet." A faint smile, and the young woman looks amongst the gathering.

Chevalier nods to Henrik then looks at Christiane as she speaks about the Father then says more to the room than to anyone person, "If one of you would be so kind as to ask them to go to confession this afternoon and have them 'confess to stealing apples from the crippled farmer' then help will be offered them." He checks his watch once more, "I can not guarantee they can remain together, but they will be helped." He sighs, "Not sure about the prisoner…. well at any rate I need to move along." He smiles at Alice and the other, "Have a pleasent day."

"Wait a bit," Henrik mutters with narrowed eyes, as Chevalier starts to withdraw, "What do you mean 'help'? You have a way to get people out of France?"

Alice lifts an eyebrow. She nods slowly, but is listening. "I hope not either. If we can help somehow…" Alice falls quiet. "Be well, Chevalier. Mind the darkness," She smiles weakly. The felines are sniffing at anyone who dares draw near. Her eyes go wide at Chevalier's comment only AFTER Henrik speaks. Talk about the match needing to be struck a few times.

Chevalier pauses and offers Henrik a smile, "I have been trying to get you to come meet with me for weeks." He glances about the room then back at Henrik "No offense to the others but too much has been said already, the fewer in the know the better, but yes I have been working with the Priests." He chuckles with a gleem in his eye, "What, you think I went got religion?"

Christiane tense at all this talk around her. Not that she objects, really. She just looks nervous and sad. Especially at Amie. "You are too young for that sort of talk," she says. "You all put yourselves in too much danger. Listen, I hate that the Germans are here. I would change it if I could. But I have no power to. None of us do. It is a dark night, as Alice says. All we can do is wait until morning. It will be worse for everyone if we antagonize the Germans."

Amie's gaze flicks from Christiane to Henrik and back a moment. "They say tomorrow is for the young, Madame," she murmurs quietly, rolling her shoulders in a gentle shrug. "No one is doing anything to the Germans. You know as well as anyone that they see slights where there are none.

Chevalier opens the door further and says to Christiane, "Even the littlest match can defeat the darkness, just not for long if it burns alone, but several matches burning at once, then we've got something." Looking to Henrik, "Please get them the message, then come visit me sometime soon. I must not delay any further." and with that he is gone.

"I am not one to talk about that I'm afraid," Alice admits quietly. She wrinkles her nose. It was after all, mostly Alice who helped with the British soldier. "There is a difference between prodding a bull and subdueing it," She notes. It's a quiet sort of wisdom. "But sometimes both involve the same motions." She shrugs. The kitties mao in unison, perhaps well practiced in their art.

«Game» Chevalier moves out of Alice's Sew Shop.
Chevalier has left.

Henrik regards the matron evenly. Henrik draws a slow breath through the nose without his stony expression softening. A moment is taken as he scowls aside at Cheavlier with a nod, "I heard you, goddamn it." Back at christiane he notes- tone less sharp, but no warmer, "Thats a choice everyone needs to make, madame. You have a husband and children. You have a future. You are not a solider." Blue eyes intent and unblinking on the woman's, he goes on, "That's not true of everyone. This is a night that won't break until its broken."

Christiane sighs, looking up, meeting Chevalier's eyes. "Those are dangerous words, Charles." Still, they seem to get to her. More than she'd like. Giving her head a little shake, she moves toward the door. "I must go. The doctor will miss me if I am late." She regards Henrik for a moment, before dropping her gaze. A trace of shame in it. "There is always a future, Monsieur. Even for you, I suspect. Be careful."

Amie watches Christiane as the woman starts for the door, a faint sm ile on her face as she does. "It will be a brighter future, somehow, Madame," she promises quietly before glancing towards Henrik. "For all of us."

"Be careful," Christiane repeats. Firmly. Like a mother telling her children not to play in the street. They might get hit by a Nazi. She slips out of the shop, eyes fixed ahead, and strides down the street toward the hospital.

Auguste watches Christiane walk away, still leaning against a wall quietly.

"We will," Alice promises, and waves. Tails wag as they watch Christiane. Alice sighs a little. "I hope I do not worry her too much. I'm not strong, but I guess I am brave?" She muses then shrugs. "I will help, because… I love Gabriel and he is fond of God, so we serve." Her voice is soft.

Henrik is mute to Christiane's cautious sentiments, simply meeting the woman's eye, expression relaxing into something more typically colorless. Almost looking through the madame Morgenstern as she takes her leave, facing the fascist occupiers once again. Shoulders and chest rise with a drawn breath, as he looks to Alice, speaking only when the Belgian has gone her way: "Madame, I will be needing the clothes I've left with you."

Christiane heads off Arras Hospital.

A pause at that. There's a flicker of recognition in Alice's eyes. She nods slowly, "Yes, monsieur. I have them boxed for you. Do you want to wait here or come inside?" She offers. Alice shoos the cats away from Henrik. "Go kitties. This is people business… a good mother is discipline and love," She notes quietly.

Amie looks from Henrik to Alice and back before she steps back. "I'll leave you two to your business." she offers quietly.

"I'll wait here, madame," Henrik rumbles in reply to Alice. Looking sidelong to Amie, he nods once. "While you're making rounds today, mademoiselle- count how many german patrols you see. Good day."

Amie hesitates a moment before she nods, inclining her head to Henrik. "Monsieur." she offers before sending a smile to Alice and taing her leave, slipping out of the shop after snatching up her basket.

Auguste pushes off the wall as he sees Amie leaving the shop. He extends his hand towards her, "Excuse me, Mademoiselle. May I have a word with you?" He quickly crosses the street as he speaks.

Alice disappears into the back, then returns with a box. It's a white one, about big enough to hold a whole suit for a man Henrik's size. Kitties nose at Amie before she goes. "Be well!" She calls after, waving. The box is offered to Henrik, "On the house." She smiles broadly up at the Swede.

Amie hesitates a moment as she's called to, before she nods slowly and goes still, turning to face Auguste a little more fully. "Oui, Monsieur?"

Auguste nods and dips his head gratefully. "It's about what you said about the old Priest." He lowers his hand now that he has Amie's attention. "You said something about it being good to know him. He also had that piece of paper…" He looks about the street, his voice already a harsh whisper. "Why did you say it is good to know him?"

Henrik accepts the box with a brief twist to his stoicism that is not unlike a brief smile. "Merci, madame," the swede mutters. "I'll bring it back when it needs a new button sewn on." Dipping his head in parting, he turns toward the door.

Amie blinks, head canting slightly to the right. "A priest is always a good person to know. They are one you can turn to when help is needed." she murmurs, glancing briefly back towards the shop she'd just left. "You…may be in need of help, monsieur?"

Auguste suppresses a scoff and shakes his head. "I don't need help… not right now anyways. I do however -offer- help when I can." Looks Amie over again, "I must have been mistaken in assuming you knew something about it though. Excuse my ignorance, Mademoiselle."

Alice smiles back up at Henrik and nods. "Worry not. Be well, and I will repair it any time you wish. You need only ask." She bobs her hair, setting her curls to bobbing. She seems cheered by the man's presence, expression soft and subdued. "The cats say farewell too." She will step back inside, probably to make sure anything the Nazis have asked of her is being done.

Henrik eyes the cats Alice speaks for with a dubious lift to one brow. Stepping out into the street once again, he notes Amie and Auguste speaking, blue eyes narrowing once again as he watches from a distance for a moment.

Amie shakes her head slightly, reaching a hand out to lightly pat Auguste's arm. they're right in front of the store, Amie not having gotten far before being called to a stop, so Henrik can't be at that great of a distance. "Do not be so quick to assume."

Auguste purses his lips for a moment and glances at Amie's hand, but does not otherwise move. "You need to be quick more often than not." His having just jumped to another conclusion not quite dawning on him, "I thank you for your time."

"Monsieur," Henrik raises his deep, rough voice to greet Auguste, as he unhurriedly resumes steps toward the young man, and th young woman with whom he speaks.

Auguste turns about quickly at Henrik's voice and drops his head in a quick nod by way of greeting, though he doesn't speak.

"If you change your mind," Amie offers, as she draws her hand back and away from Auguste's arm, "Do remember to go to confession this afternoon and confess to stealing apples from the crippled farmer. But only if you mean it." She falls silent as she hears Henrik behind her, and she turns.

Auguste doubletakes back to Amie, his eyebrow quirked, but he turns his attention back to Henrik.

Henrik overhears Amie's last words, and notes simply to Auguste on the heels of Amie's address, "As she says. Do it. Might be able to help your family."

Auguste tilts his head curiously, "We only need a true place of residence, Monsieur… Is your Church offering us a home in this City?" He crosses his arms over his chest and continues, "Other than that, we have done what we needed to do. That's how we're here."

"The church offers prayers in mysterious ways," Amie offers cryptically, shifting her basket into her other hand.

"If it's here you want to stay, then so be it," Henrik answers, simply enough. He doesn't press the issue, once more turning to retrace his former steps southward, a large tailor's box carried under one arm.

Auguste turns back to Amie and frowns slightly, "Mysteries don't keep us dry in the rain, Madamouselle." He seems to regret that almost immediately and shrugs lightly, "They do however provide entertainment in the solving. I will see what I can."

Jaroslav arrives from the Cafe Mason.

Alice is inside the sewing shop, which is apparently a place to meet if needed. Cats watch from the window, an orange tabby and a slender white female. Otherwise, nothing of note is going on near the shop at the moment.

Amie inclines her head to Auguste, and then to Henrik. "If you'll excuse me." she murmurs quietly, stepping back and away

Henrik has turned away from Auguste and Amie, muttering a wordless farewell to the two as the stern foreigner walks a few steps southward, a large white box, of the sort to carry clothes to and from a tailor, under one arm.

Auguste himself moves down the street continuing along the path he was on earlier, a thoughtful frown now on his face.

Jaroslav emerges from the cafe, having completed both the "morning ersatz coffee" and "tinker with the Type 51's cylinder bores in his imaginary garage" segments of his morning routine. While it is doing fairly well at keeping him same, it can't be said to have made him very outwardly cheerful-looking. He squints an eye and rubs at the side of it with his finger as he glances up and down the street before proceeding. He ambles along, and stops to regard a pair of cats on the other side of a window. "Dobryden," he says quietly to the tabby.

Ignus, the orange tabby seems to smile. Mao! He is a French kitty. He sniffs at the window, leaning over to the man. Why hello there to you too sir. Alice herself peers over, to see what has caught her feline's eye. The blonde woman smiles, and waves to the man.

Henrik stops dead in his tracks as some obscure word reaches his ear. Slowly turning, blue eyes narrowed in the direction of Jaroslav, head canted to a curious angle, the frowning foreigner starts- one step at a time back toward the mechanic. He says nothing until coming closer, then voicing, "Jaky did tebe rici (What did you say)?"

With the distinct look of someone who hasn't been home yet, it's not worth walking all the way up to the vineyard only to come back to work at the cafe in an hour or two. So… here is Gene. Her dress is a touch wrinkled, and there is a single snag in her poor new nylons. She's smoking a cigarette out of the German pack from her pocket and walking rather blearily slow towards the cafe'. She's got a pair of men's sunglasses across her face to block out the light from her hung over eyes.
Genevieve is also walking in from the direction of the German Barracks, but… who knows where she's really come from.

Jaroslav gives Ignus a bemused half-smile, then notes someone moving behind the cat and looks up to Alice. He touches his cap politely enough, and flicks his gaze around past her to the non-human/non-feline parts of the interior. A sewing shop. Jaroslav is not presently in terrible need of seamstressing presently, but nonetheless one ought to patronize the small businesses of the town if only for morale's sake. These are just the things that need to be done. He gets a few steps for the door, but then pauses as something he was rather not expecting to hear reaches his ears from the vector of a tall rugged-looking fellow roughly his age with a large white box. « You mean to the cat? » he replies brusquely to Henrik in Czech, although not without a little curiosity as he sizes the fellow up.

Henrik has found something that occupies his attention moreso than the arrival of Genevieve, as his narrow, intent stare is fixed on Jaroslav. "« Been a long time since I've heard words in this language. What are you doing in France? »" He is rude enough to ignore Alice throughout the short words.

Alice smiles back at Jaroslav. She nods. There are clothes hanging up, mostly uniforms with notes, from paper used over and over, back of her ledger… oops. Oh well. The kitties watch Jaroslav with interest, tails wagging a bit. Alice seems to have accepted Henrik's ways, as if he were another cat. Sometimes kitties do that too. She blinks. If she hears, she is uncomprehending. A shrug. The door is open to them, and she is sewing in the meantime.

Ahh, the sew shop is open. Gene drowsily pats the pocket of her dress, looking to see if she actually managed to save that button she lost last night. Indeed, there it is. She turns her casual stride in the direction of Alice's place instead of the Cafe', though the men get a long, warm smile. She looks over Jaroslav for a moment, allowing that saucy smile to linger towards him before she looks at Henrik, "mm… Herr Henrik. Missed you last night." She states in French, other than the respectful German title. Her voice seems to imply something, though what that is is left for dirtier minds. She then continues towards the shop.

Jaroslav cranes his head to the side to get a crick out of his neck. "« The same could be asked of you, no? You speak like a native, »" he replies before shrugging a shoulder lightly. "« But to answer your question, I am not elbows-deep under the hood of a Bugatti. Nor am I preparing for Le Grand Prix de Picard, nor Tours, nor Le Mans. Nor am I sweeping up what used to be our garage in Lens. Nor am I going home to Prague anytime soon, as the present authorities do not seem to find allowing it a very high priority of theirs. »" He observes Genevieve with a curt yet polite nod, then returns his attention to the 'Henrik' he now has a name to the face of. "« But that is what I am not doing, I suppose. Presently I am doing very little besides some fixing of things for the locals, and utterly failing to keep my mind off of what I am not doing. Yourself? »"

Henrik looks aside from Jaroslav as Genevieve's greeting makes overlooking her rather unlikely. His french is not so rough as it was a year ago, but the speech is still harsh and accented, as he rumbles in return, "And the night before. And tonight, probably. You even sleep last night?" Eyeing Jaroslav again, he slips back into czech to reply, "« A mechanic, then? Huh, I would give sympathies for the bad timing, but truth be told, there's no GOOD timing to be had anywhere, these days. As for me, I've been moving rocks and crates for the past year. There's nowhere else to be, »" he concludes with a shrug.

Alice and her felines are a faintly cheery decor in the background. She smiles and waves to anyone near. She is a social critter, despite the dark time. Camille is standing now, peering intently at Henrik and Jaroslav. She is curious, this duchess. Alice moves to the door, "If you wish to come in … I think there is some tea." Although, it's rationed tea. Nothing exciting. But she ducks back in momentarily, so as not to be intrusive.

Genevieve does slip inside Alice's shop, though she wasn't invited…"Alice? Feel like doing a quick sew job…lost my top button last night. I… don't have anything to change into, but maybe I could just buy some thread and a needle off of you?" Gene inquires, her husky voice thick with tiredness from being up most of the night and fairly hung over. But she is functioning at least.

"« Too true, »" Jaroslav murmurs. "« I prefer it to Lens so far. It reminds me less of the older days, and to be perfectly frank is probably safer. Lens is more industrial a place. And where there is industry, there are authorities with quotas to make, and authorities with quotas to make do not have too much problem with 'recruiting' foreigners for factory work in trying times. And I do not think it would have helped that our former benefactor and sponsor was, shall we say, not so favored by the new regime. At least for him when you have the money to go racing, you have the money to secure oneself passage across the channel. Or so I would hope for him, he is a good fellow. »"

"Ah … um, if you wish. Although I am afraid I do not have many. The wartimes make for stingy suppliers," Alice wrinkles her nose. "But here," She will lead Genevieve to her supplies. A bit of thread and needle are brought out. "I can sew it for you or you may borrow them. Borrowing is probably easier than buying," The business-lady notes. Alice doesn't seem to mind the hung over woman.

As Genevieve slips into the shop, Henrik returns his full attention to the mechanic before him. He has no difficulty following even the mroe obscure elements of the czech's specialized vocabulary. "« There are authorities, and labor drafts here as well, but it's a simpler thing in Arras. Not as many troops, no tanks. An airfield north of town, with a lot of fuel trucks and such coming through- some good money to be made for you in that, if you feel like it. »" A drawn breath before he answers Jaroslav's last, "« The ones who could made a dash for England. I would have gone as well, but the damned french threw me in a camp for a few months. By the time I tried to leave, the fascists were invading. What part of Czechoslovakia are you from, by the way? I have family in Pilsen- if you have any news, I'd thank you for it. »"

Genevieve gives Alice a rather thankful smile, "Perhaps we shall call it renting, I will pay for the trouble I'm putting you through." Gene then pulls off her glasses, settling them on the counter top and accepting the needle and thread so she can look down at her top button and begin the work on getting it back on her dress…"Thank you. I trust you are well, Alice?

"No need to pay," Alice waves a hand. She will let the woman use the needle and thread. "I am as well as one can be," She replies. "Which I suppose does not mean a lot," She considers. The kitties have moved out to sniff at Genevieve and poke at her with noses and paw tips. "How about you? I have mostly kept quiet, since I do not want trouble for poor Gabriel," Alice looks down. "Oh my kitties, you are as bad children," She apparently has caught them moving towards Genevieve.

Jaroslav hehs. "« Southern part of Prague, past the university and off the river. It's been years since I was home, to be honest. You may well have been there still when I left. I was too obsessed with the motorcar to follow my father into the brick factory, and soon as I was old enough and able went off to Italy with mostly empty pockets and a dream. Started work there in a factory, fell in with some other motorheads, found I had an actual talent at it. Things were good there, for a while." » He scowls and spits on the street. « "But circumstances change. A friend of a friend put me in touch with my former employer six years ago, and from then until recently I was in Lens. Now I am here." » He turns a glance northward towards the airfield, as if he could see it. « "It would be good for my sanity to get to work on things again. I am not inclined to be /too/ helpful to them, though. Nor do I want to be the one that gets blamed when things break just because I am convenient for some mid-level officer to scapegoat. But we shall see." »

Genevieve laughs faintly at the felines, looking down over her delicate work at the top of her dress' collar, "Just wait a minute, please… I will give you attention in a few minutes!" Gene chuckles again then looks back to her work, responding to Alice.."Oh, I'm well enough. Wolff has been promoted to Oberschutze. I don't think it's quite so lofty as he makes it out to be, but he's gotten a pay raise and he seems happy for it. Celebrating most of the night in the barracks." Gene admits with a bit of a blush.

"They know," Alice grins. She nods. "That's good…" She seems a bit bemused by Gene's comments. Even puzzled. But she simply accepts it. There are sheep in this world, and Alice is but another. Not everyone is a wolf or a hero. "I'll be finishing this officer's shirt. He is impatient. So help yourself to tea and the thread. Also, kitties."

Genevieve pauses, reaching into herpocket quickly, "Here! For your trouble!" She pulls out two Reichmarks, handing them over smoothly… there are many more in her pocket, so it's clearly not an issue. "Thank you again, Alice.." And Gene quickly sets about finishing the button.

Henrik hrms flatly, as he goes on babbling back and forth with Jaroslav in the eastern language, "« I havn't been there since '36. Had'nt been to Prague for years before that- odd, since Pilsen is only a bit west of you, but..»" he shrugs his thick shoulders once, before offering his calloused, scarred hand for a shake. "« Call me Henrik Svensson. Your own name? »"

Jaroslav clasps the offered hand firmly and shakes. "« Then you have more news than I, I am afraid. I am Jaroslav Sjerber, »" he introduces himself with a quiet laugh, as if he'd been told a good deadpan joke. "« It is good to meet you, 'Henrik'. Perhaps one day I will hear the tale of your parents' epic journey from Scandinavia to the old country. Although of course I do understand if it is absolutely none of my business. »"

A shame the words are all in czech, thus the cause for Henrik's dry- but clear and unmistakeable smile is lost on any onlookers. The stern big man even lets his shoulders stir in a short-lived chuckle. "Perhaps one day, Jaroslav. For now, its good to have met you. If you decide you want to start working on trucks, say the word. I'll bend a few ears. Maybe crack a couple heads. »"

Jaroslav rubs his mouth and chin with a thumb and forefinger to dispel a too-wide grin from persisting too long. He's something of a reflexive not-smiler, apparently. "« Likewise, »" he replies. "« And thank you for the offer. It is probably inevitable that I will take you up on it soon. »" He wrinkles his nose faintly. "« Who knows, it might even be an opportunity to learn just a little something of how the damned Silberpfeile kept kicking our asses every race. Besides that mustached fascist pighead throwing millions at Mercedes and the Auto Union, anyway. »"

Henrik snorts and shakes his head. "« The fascists do seem to always have more millions to throw. Bah! To hell with it. I'm around here most days, or down by the riverfront. Not hard to find- and so you know- the Cafe there- »" a toss of his head toward Cafe Mason, "« Is the last place in town to get a halfway decent beer. Drink whuile you can, probably going to dry up soon. »"

Jaroslav turns to regard the cafe before returning his attention to Henrik. "« Do you know, I think that is both the best thing and the worst thing that I have heard all week, »" he deadpans.

"« I know, »" Henrik mutters back in his own colorless tone. "« The woman who walked by earlier is the singer there. Most people in Arras stop in at some point in the day. Motherless, goat-loving soldiers- »" Nothing quite like cursing out the oppressors in an unknown language, without using the words 'nazi', 'german', or 'fascist' to feel truly liberating, "« Keep all the good beer for themselves.. we only get whats left. »"

"« Our civic duty to conserve for the effort to end the war as soon as possible, isn't that what they say? »" Jaroslav observes sarcastically. "« I suppose it makes sense. A drunken soldier is probably more likely to fall and break his own damned neck when you think about it. Enough beer and they have to run out of army eventually. »" He snorts.

Henrik grunts wordlessly to the sarcastic comment. Raising a hand to itch at the side of his jaw, the gruff man mutters, "« Need to be on my way. I'll be seeing you, Jaroslav. »"

Jaroslav nods to the other man. "« Good day, Henrik. »" He turns to eye the direction of the airfield thoughtfully a moment before turning and proceeding on his way.

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