From Cafe Mason (16 4), Chevalier enters the Cafe, removes his trench coat and hat and places them on the coat rack. He stops a waitress and orders a single-malt scotch, neat. He removes a silver cigarette case from an inisde suit pocket and extracts a cigarette, puts the case away and pulls a silver lighter from a front side pocket. He makes eye contact with the redheaded woman across the cafe and holds that gaze as he lights the cigarette. He slips the lighter back into his pocket and takes a seat at a table.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Damn, it's early. Gene was performing through most of the night, though, it was a busy night. And after the buzz of an all night show on the piano and tiny stage in the corner, well… no one can sleep. So, Gene is just working on sobering up. She's slumped over the bar just slightly, nursing a mug of coffee and looking half dead, her make up faded and dress a touch wrinkled. She gives a drowsy smile in the man's direction and half nods…"…dunno if they've got the kitchen open yet.." Her tiredly husky voice explains.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Chevalier exhales a thin stream of smoke and flashes a smile at Genevieve, "Ah, well then I will have to wait." rises from his table and pulls out a chair and asks her, "Perhaps you will join me? I will get you another coffee if you like."

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Genevieve blinks drowsy blues in Charles' direction as she realizes he's speaking to her. She clears her throat and nods. "Sure…sure. I should probably eat something before sleeping anyway, lest I wake up in a few hours feeling worse than I do now. Long damn night…" She picks herself up, high heels clicking silently on wooden floor in the quiet early morning. "..And another coffee would be… brillant."

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Chevalier holds the chair and scoots in ever so slightly as the lady sits down. He motions to a waitress to bring a cup of coffee to the table. He retakes his seat and smiles at the lady saying, "I am Charles Chevalier."
From Cafe Mason (16 4), Chevalier snuff out the cigarette and takes a sip of his drink.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Genevieve smiles a bit more as he pushes her chair in for her. She's a cabaret girl, she's not used to being with the gentlemen, frankly. It's nice. She crosses her legs beneath the table and leans back…"Charles? Nice ta meetcha.. I'm Genevieve." She stretches her fingertips in his direction.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), With the sun rising in the sky outside, the door is opened briefly, the morning chill not having time to crep into the cafe, tobacco smoke detectable in the air as Henrik draws a short breath, closing the door behind him before starting slow steps toward the bar, noting the pair at the side table in passing, with a curt nod.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Chevalier takes Genevieves hand and ever so slightly brushes his lips to her fingers as he maintains eye contact and he says, "Genevieve, the patron saint of Paris, Charmed."

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Genevieve lofts both slender red brows as he takes her hand like that and kisses her with such a gentle flourish. She chuckles, shaking her head, "Ah, so you are one of them, a charmer of the women I see? Even at the crack of dawn. Well… it is most intriguing to meet you, either way." She looks over to Henrik, giving him a small nod as he comes in.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Rather like clockwork, is the big swede: in the mornings and evenings he comes in, orders a beer, and nurses it for far too long. No cause to break pattern today, and another brown glass bottle is given the foreigner. A brief, sidelong look notes the room's other occupants, though he says nothing just yet.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Chevalier smiles and offers, "Ah but of course, a woman, especially a terribly over worked and charming woman such as yourself deserves to be a charmed, no. Even in the mornings?"

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Though not technically wait staff here, Gene's worked long enough that she can work the bar easily. And no one else is here so it seems it's going to be up to her to serve. She bows her head to Chevalier, "Indeed, but… for now, I need to make certain everyone has a drink. Do you want something else?" She asks as she stands again, heading around for behind the bar.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Chevalier smiles and holds his scotch aloft, "No, no thank you. Even us charmers of women only need one scotch in the morning." he teases.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Chevalier pulls out a pocket watch and checks the time. He downs the rest of his drink and rises from the table. He flashes a smile and says to Gene, "Do you perform again tonight? I'd like very much to see your performance."

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Henrik lets out a short breath and asks curtly of Chevalier, "You do anything else, monssieur? Or only 'charming of women'?" As he accepts the bottle with a nod of thanks.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Genevieve does serve Henrik the beer and then pours herself a bit more coffee. She lingers behind the bar where she can rather easily speak with both men, a drowsy smile still upon her evening-weary features. She chuckles at Charles. "Almost every night, in fact. So you will get a chance to see soon." And then she falls quiet, grinning at the cranky Henrik and allowing the other man to answer the question.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Chevalier looks at Henrik and shrugs. Then says while putting on his hat and coat, "What would you have me do? Yet, what should it matter to you? Still though if you must know I am the Forigen Language Professor at Ecole Suprieure de Commerce de Rouen." Looking at his watch once more, "And I am nearly late for my meeting with local Abbott, translating some old Latin scrolls. But I gather this will not meet with your approval either." He flashes a smile at Gene and says, "I looks forward to it then." With that he turns to open the door.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Chevalier tips his hat to the Swede and closes the door behind himself as he leaves.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Henrik half turns, to look over his shoulder at the professor as Chevalier gives his detailed reply. "Fascists marching on France, and french men read latin and kiss girls' hands. I don't understand this damned country," he rumbles, half to himself.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Genevieve shakes her head quietly to Henrik as she finally gives in and moves to open a beer for herself. Maybe the hair of the dog will take her into sleep. "…Sometimes there is little else they can do, monseiur, for it is all they know. They are frightened as the rest of us so they retreat into the familiar."

From Cafe Mason (16 4), "There is always something else they can do," Henrik replies evenly. "Retreat into the familiar," he echoes in his strong accent, shaking his head once more. "Hiding, you mean. Hiding and insisting that there is nothing else to be done. I have never seen so great a country, so incapable of acting to save itself." A short pull of the bottle chases his words.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), "You assume there is no hope then, monseiur?" Gene isn't entirely certain of his name so this early in the morning she certainly doesn't guess at it. She takes a sip of her beer, her nose wrinkling a touch at the flavour, but she can get it down. In general, the woman is a wine drinker.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), "I have one hope left in this world, madame," Henrik returns with intent blue eyes fixing upon Genevieve's. "And it lays not in the fate of France. Perhaps you people will remember courage and save your country. Perhaps it is too late, and your children will be born fascist slaves who speak german."
From Cafe Mason (16 4), Genevieve tilts her head quietly, curiosity passing through her bloodshot, pale eyes. "And what is your hope that you have left then, sir?" She leans against the bar, looking him straight in the eyes

From Cafe Mason (16 4), "I'd be long dead without it," Henrik rumbles lowly, silently weighing whether to answer, before shrugging. Hell, he's stuck in a French village with people who will never see him again, why not? "My hope is for a free future, with the finest woman I will ever know. Once I get out of this ungrateful country, that is what swaits me."

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Genevieve smiles a touch more as she hears that. "You have a wife back home then? YOu are a lucky man… Tell me about her?" Something to cheer him, hopefully. And, as with most bar girls, she has a good amount of romantic notions hidden within her breast.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), "Not a wife," Henrik corrects, expression relaxing into its typical faint frown. "Not yet. Won't marry until I can be sure I'll not leave her a widow." Taking another measure of the beer, he lets out a slow breath and asks, "She is.. very strong. Things that would crush the souls of most men, she endured, and survived. Brave- she knows fear like any other, but still stands against it. A good heart.. too good. She is the sort who can see th very best of others. And the greatness of spirit to bring out what she sees. She has no equal in all the world."

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Genevieve smiles even wider, nodding slowly, "Her name? She is a lucky woman to be loved so much…" Gene pauses in her drinking, waiting until she has a name.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Henrik supplies after a moment, seeing no harm in it, "Her name is Lovisa. She was able to cross into England before all this," he notes, glancing about the cafe. "Once I can join her there, we will go to Sweden."

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Genevieve considers that thought, her eyes narrowing a touch upon him. "And… why can you not escape into England? Are they being that difficult with the borders already?" Gene asks, her previous smile turning into a frown. She then remembers her drink and lofts it, "Ah, to Lovisa."

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Henrik leaves his elbows leaned upon the bar, but he does raise the glass bottle enough to affect a toast. "To Lovisa." A brief upward curl twists his lips as the big man draws a drink. "I have no travel papers. They were lost in Spain.. And the English are being as difficult with travel as are the French. Hell, in a little longer I'll try swimming the damned water to get there."

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Genevieve shakes her head quietly, her tired frown lingering. She keeps her brows furrowed, rubbing one hand across her brow, "You… you cannot find a good forger? It might cost you money, but it's the best idea I have if they are being so strict. I'm… I'm bad with politics."

From Cafe Mason (16 4), "Mademoiselle," Henrik returns dryly, "I did well to find a bad beer, let alone a good forger. If you know one, I'm all ears?" he cups a hand to his ear in deadpan jest, before frowning again.

From Cafe Mason (16 4), Genevieve shakes her head quietly, sending a few red locks all across her shoulders, "No, no… but I shall keep looking for you. This is a good place, you meet lots of people. I will keep my eyes open. I do promise." She murmurs rather reassuringly.

Henrik rumbles wordlessly under his breath for a moment. "Hrm." Another sip of the drink is drawn. A curt nod accompanies the words, "Thank you for that. Even if nothing comes of it.." he shrugs once. "Its a good thought."

Genevieve bows her head quietly to him, "It's the least I can do in times like this… especially if that is your last hope, sir. You… seem so miserable. I wish I could help more." Gene confesses quietly, a bittersweet smile now possessing her lips.

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