{Le Château du Seul.}

Mikael

Hiriam and Hester emerged from the Chateau looking as radiant as ever. I would have to be careful with them. The world had changed much since they frequented the outside world. I surveyed my companions in the carriage with a carefully faked arrogance. I caught Williams glance out of the corner of my eye. He looked anxious, no, genuinely afraid. To many of these people i would seem a monster but when we reached Paris that was an opinion i intended to change.
I reached into my doublet and pulled out a small packet of cards.
"Anyone care to play? A casual game to pass the time until we reached the jewel of France." There were a few nods but no surge of vocal enthusiasm. I began shuffling the cards with hands that had seen much practise in the act. I noticed William looking at my hands and it took me moment to realise why. I wasn't just shuffling quickly, my hands were almost a blur. It was then i truly realised what had been done. I may still appear human but i was no longer. I was faster, stronger, far more so than a human. They had been created for war and they were perfect for it. I would have to be careful not to give myself away.
"Are you going to deal or not?" Asked Joshua casually.

**Sorry for not posting! I've been having an epic battle in my mind as to which of two possible plot lines to follow. The Chateau people could go stay at a hotel for now, and THEN Isabelle's parents would find her, hence ensuing drama. Or, they would go directly to Isabelle's parent's home, and skip straight to the ensuing drama. At the moment, I am leaning towards the second option. I will post going with that plot line. However, if you think we should do the other, I am more than willing to delete the entire post and go the other way. Let me know what your opinions are. Also, I feel like we are closer than ever to tying up the storybook. I'd like to start posting in the DT again(if I can find it!) to , well, discuss stuff. I think I have an idea on how to wrap this up. Let me know your thoughts.

Isabelle

Isabelle bit her lip as the carriage passed a market with many vendors crying out their afternoon wares. they had reached Paris. The journey had been long, uncomfortable, and insufferably boring. But now Isabelle sat bolt upright in her seat, muscles tense and quivering. Isabelle's mind was spinning madly. When they got to Isabelle's parent's manor, how could Isabelle convince them to let her friends stay? Isabelle would need some sort of leverage, some sort of -

The carriage had reached the part of Paris reserved for the rich and powerful. Many of the manors here belonged to nobles, some just to extraordinarily wealthy citizens. Isabelle flinched slightly as she began to recognize some of the estates she was passing. But it was within these estates that Isabelle had found her needed leverage against Monsieur and Madame Barnett.

Isabelle's stomach wrenched sickeningly as she noticed the order of the mansions they were passing. They passed the Baron Durand's impressive garden blossoming beautifully in front of his stately mansion. Next to it, with its glittering fountain and magnificent granite mansion, was the Marquis de Gravois's estate. And now, inevitably, the carriage began to slow as it pulled into the circular carriage drive in front of Barnett Manor.

Isabelle shrank back from the sight. Isabelle was suddenly gripped with fear. What if her parents refused them? Had she led her friends into something even more terrible than awaited them at the Chateau.

Isabelle gritted her teeth, and wrenched open the carriage door. She smoothed her dress front carefully as she walked away from the carriage. The Manor still looked the same, really. The same expanse of lush, green grass. The same flowers, shrubs, and trees still grew. Isabelle composed herself. She glanced back toward the carriage. Mikael was already out, along with Constance and Mercy. William talking to the driver, and Joshua was slowly climbing out of the carriage.

Isabelle turned and walked to the front entrance. She braced herself, and hit the knocked on the door deliberately. Isabelle folded her hands in front of her, and waited.

The door opened. A maid with long, auburn hair opened the door. A jolt of recognition surged through Isabelle.

"Good afternoon, Mademoiselle," said the maid courteously. "Who may I say is - "

The girl froze. Isabelle summoned a small smile. "Good afternoon, Cecile. Are my parents at home?" Isabelle felt that her companions had gathered around behind her, but she did not look back.

"Mademoiselle Barnett!" cried Cecile, shock apparent on her face. "I - Yes, Madame and Monsieur are at home. Would you - Please, come in. Who - Who are you companions, may I ask?"

Cecile stepped aside to give Isabelle room to cross the threshold. Isabelle took a quick breath and stepped inside. She glanced at her companions as they walked into the house as well.

"Friends of mine, all of them," said Isabelle, turning to Cecile. "Cecile, we've had a long journey. Could you get my parents? We will be in the sitting room."

"Of - of course, Mademoiselle. I'll get them right away." Cecile flashed Isabelle a nervous look, and sped off. Isabelle watched her go.

"Come on," she said slowly, still staring through the doorway Cecil had disappeared through. "We should sit down."

Isabelle went through a different door into an airy parlor. Isabelle crossed the room to sit tensely in an armchair. The others came in, all sitting down as well. Isabelle couldn't meet any of their eyes; she wouldn't be able to until she knew they would be accepted by her parents, however grudgingly.

Isabelle heard a step of quick footsteps. Isabelle stood up, her eyes locked on the door. Without preamble, Isabelle's parents had burst through the door. Her mother had the lead, Isabelle's father only a few paces behind her. Isabelle could see Cecile's frightened head peeking in from behind Isabelle's father.

"Isabelle?" hissed Isabelle's mother, stepping forward.

"Mother," said Isabelle quietly. Isabelle's father stepped forward, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Why are you here?"

Isabelle paused a moment to collect her thoughts. She couldn't tell her parents all of the events that happened at the Chateau. They would never let Isabelle stay if they knew. Isabelle would need to clam the error of her ways. "I've returned, Father, because I know I acted childishly. It has taken me a year to admit it to myself, but I was a fool before. I ought never to have left Paris in the first place."

Isabelle's mother's eyes were drifting over the other occupants of the parlor. She lingered in particular on Joshua's mask and leg, her teeth bared slightly.

Isabelle's father stared hardly at Isabelle. "You were wrong. But you have little use returning here, Isabelle. You severed ties with all of us when you left. Clearly this is no longer your home. You have no business here."

"Father," said Isabelle quickly. "Please, hear me out. I - " Isabelle gritted her teeth, struggling with her pride. "I need your help, please. I've got nowhere to - "

"You should have thought of that a year ago when you ran away," snapped Isabelle's mother quickly. She stepped forward, her eyes on fire. "Do you have any idea how much trouble we went through to smooth the mess that you left? All of the people we had to apologize to? All of the contacts we lost? Because of you, Isabelle, we were the talk of Paris. We could barely show our faces in public, Isabelle. You have no right to crawl back here, asking for our help."

Isabelle lifted her head to stare her mother directly in the eyes. "I'll not defend my actions, Mother. I have grown. What you were asking of me, it was too early, too - "

"If we were to ask you again, right now, would you? If he were here now, would you?" interrupted her mother. Isabelle froze. She swallowed.

"No?" continued her mother. "I thought not. You haven't changed a bit, Isabelle. And I want you out of my house, out of Paris. You will leave, and talk to no one on your way out. We will not play your games this time. You failed us, and have forsaken any Parisian ties you once had."

Isabelle looked out of the window quickly. Things were falling apart so quickly. Isabelle had to stop it. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this," said Isabelle carefully. She turned back to look at her father directly, not giving her mother a glance. "I understand your reasons for refusing me. Very well. I will ask around, to find another place we can stay. I'm sure the Baron's family would be more willing to - "

Isabelle's mother looked up sharply at Isabelle. Her hand gripped Isabelle's father's forearm. Isabelle's father's face clouded.

"You'll do no such thing," he said commandingly. Isabelle shrugged.

"Paris is where I need to be, Father. It may take a while, but I will find some place to stay."

"Cecile," barked Isabelle's mother. "Ensure the guest house has proper accommodations."

Isabelle heard a hasty "Yes, Madame," from the hallway. Isabelle refrained from a tight smile. Her parent's phobia of gossip had kicked in. It wouldn't do for Isabelle, who had caused a scandal with her departure, went asking for sanctuary in other aristocrats' homes, especially if Isabelle let on that her parents had denied her.

Isabelle's mother looked back at Isabelle. "You and your... companions... may stay in the guest house. I do not expect you to stay for long, Isabelle. And I will wish to talk to you later to discuss your predicament in more detail."

Isabelle nodded carefully. Her father took her mother's arm carefully and guided her out of the room. Isabelle watched them shut the door briskly. Isabelle gave a long, low sigh. She sank into the armchair equally slowly, head in hands. She was exhausted.

**Yikes, that was long. Give me feedback.

Mikael

The carriage rolled quietly through Paris passing ever grander chateaus and stately homes. Finally the carriage pulled into a long driveway and i was shocked at the sheer excessive grandness of the place. Isabelle climbed out and i was right on here tail, scanning the enormous courtyard for any threat. If there had been anything, there was little i could have done but my soldiers instincts and training had kicked in automatically. We gathered and made a calm collective approach to the manor house. Isabelle knocked and we were allowed to enter by a maid. We sat quietly in the sitting room while Isabelle had a hushed but vigorous conversation with her parents. Finally we were led to a spacious guest house.
"So how shall we divide the rooms? Perhaps the ladies would like the west wing? I would prefer the room nerest the door if possible."
"Why so you can make a quick get away?" Asked Isabelle venomously.
"Not at all. So i do not disturb you while i hunt for the Lumous Lupine. I will personally sleep a lot better once i know they are watching."

William

He had been slightly aghast at the predicament. Had he not heard it himself, he would surely not believe it.

Out of all people who should love, parents were those ones and he, himself, had lacked such a comodity. Why they should do such a thing to Isabelle was frightening and disgusting, even to his own eyes.

"...I cant help b-but feel unwanted, Isabelle," he murmured, walking behind her a few steps towards the guest house. "We... we shouldn't be here. I dont th-think it wise."

"It is a place to stay, William. We must take it." She seemed locked, deadpanning forward as if everything had become a blur. Much of a blur he realized was something Joshua had shown himself. Begrudgingly, he turned towards Mercy who was walking a few paces behind, lips quivering as if still in shock. What had happened was not what they had expected at all.

"I wish not to stay here..." he murmured, eyes sorrowful.

"Dont be selfish, William," Joshua stated, rather harshly. "It is not the time."

He could feel his airwaves compress. He did not wish to sound selfish, but was afraid as ever. With hope welling in his chest, he thought of a piano. Maybe there would be one in the guestroom in which he could batter up a bit. Play the deep, unforgiving tones of Beethoven to show his remorse. His grief for Isabelle. He could not explain his emotions allowed so, showing them would be a likely option and one in which he would take with much relish if given the chance.

A piano would be lovely... a place in which was home even in such tidings.

**I like it phantom, and I also think we can get some plot in here also because there was a hint of an arranged marriage.
And because kittykat's (the owner of Tash) account has been inactive for days, we could either kill off Tash, or someone could take over his character. Anybody really want him?

Joshua

He looked around the rooms balefully. Riches and finery everywhere. It wasn't like the Chateau at all where the derelict condition of the castle was hidden and masked. This is was purely grandeur, there was no hint of anything that was not made for the rich. It was so unlike his old New Orleans home, where they only had three rooms. The finery was almost too overbearing for him, and when he sat on one of the armchairs, he felt uncomfortable.

"I do not like this place," Joshua muttered. He couldn't help but notice that Constance seemed to fit perfectly in with everything. It was like she was born to be a noble, but was mistaken at birth for merely a peasant. It made him wonder how different they really were.

When Isabelle has talked to her parents, he had noticed the stars he had gotten from them, their suspicious glances. Oh how odd he must seem, his face concealed, and clinging to crutches. He wished sometimes that he could be beautiful, that he could take of his mask and be that gentleman that would be accepted by society. It confused him, and he just wished that he would be able to normal once more.

"My, Isabelle, this place is certainly beautiful!" Constance said cheerfully. "Though it is quite the pity that your parents have to be so crude. If I get the chance, I would like to get a few words in with them."

"But you will not get that chance," Joshua hissed.

"It seems Joshua is in a foul mood." Tash mused, ambling over to Isabelle and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I am in but a foul mood because you came along." Joshua grumbled.

"Do you think there is a piano in this place?" William asked timidly.

"No, there isn't." Joshua growled.

"Actually, I believe there might be one." Isabelle twirled out of Tash's arms, and led William down one of the hallways. The room was left in silence except the gentle ticking of the clock. Oh how Joshua didn't like it here, for surely he would rather be dead then be in this place for another hour.

------------------------

I kind of believe that we are getting really close to ending it too. If we can find the DT, that would be awesome. In the end, I have an idea of a scene of Joshua going back to the Chateau once more and finding a moon flower or something of that sort, maybe the Chateau would in ruins also because that would be interesting.

What could happen also is that Joshua for sure is the most obvious one that is a mutant. I kind of think that Isabelle's parents should find out about his condition and that could cause problems because the government wants them dead right? It could happen that the government finds out about them there. Constance is also another character that can have an influence because she finds them all abominations and wants to kill them all. I think there should be at least one character death, and that the Chateau should end up being destroyed.

~Incognito

**I found the DT! Here you go: http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/post643453.html#p643453 And Incognito, I'd love to work in a plot involving Isabelle's past. I've posted more detail on the DT.

Isabelle

Isabelle led William down the hallway. If her memory served her, there was a piano just down the -

William sped ahead of Isabelle suddenly. Isabelle stopped, surprised, but then saw that William had found the piano before she had. The room was a light blue, pleasant, with lace curtains and a black piano standing in the middle of the room. A small couch stood in the corner. Isabelle stood at the door frame, watching as William ran his fingers over the keys once and then began to play.

All of William's being seemed to relax after just a few bars of melody. Isabelle watched him curiously. He had a talent, the likes of which Isabelle had only heard once, maybe twice in her life. transfixed, Isabelle moved to sit on the couch and watch. It was oddly soothing to her.

The music was beautiful. It was soft and haunting, but at the same time, it was sweet and compassionate. For some strange reason, it only filled Isabelle with a deep sadness. Isabelle's exhaustion hit her once again like a great wave. Isabelle closed her eyes and rested her head in her hands.

Dimly, Isabelle realized how much more comfortable she felt with William than when they first met. Isabelle had thought William nothing more than an overgrown child, whining and babbling at the slightest occurrence. But now, Isabelle saw something different. William took everything to heart. He was supremely worried for the ones around him, and never held back those emotions. William was a rare gem in a mound of coal. Isabelle at last realized why he and Joshua were such great friends.

Suddenly, Isabelle picked her head up. William had turned, and was staring at her. Isabelle gave him a small smile.

"You shouldn't have stopped," she said quietly. Shaking herself, Isabelle sat straight. "Don't mind me," she said briskly. "I'm... recovering, that's all. I don't think I'll ever be at ease here. Not since - Well."

"Isabelle," said William cautiously. "I'm sorry. You - "

Isabelle stood up quickly. "It is nothing, William. I'll be fine. You - You should keep playing. You have a natural talent. I'm - I'm going to see how the others are settling."

Isabelle walked out of the room, forcing herself not to look back. She tightened her jaw stubbornly. Monsieur and Madame Barnett were not going to reduce Isabelle to a shivering shadow of who Isabelle was. Isabelle refused. She had long ago left her parents control. They were not going to take it back.

William

William stared back with wide eyes, his mouth a hard line. Had it not been for the lovely piano before him, he would have gone pestering her with sympathies in which Joshua would for surely scold him for. 'no one wants that much pity, william' he would say.

He stared down at the piano, feeling quilt arise in the pit of his stomach. Had it been the sad music he was playing? Beethoven was not what anyone needed at this moment in time. No dark, spindly notes should carress the hearts of everyone around him. He played what he felt, yes, but he always played what needed to be played.

He returned his fingers to the keys, famillar notes of Mozart coming to mind. In a flurry of motion, the room filled with the lovely, classic refrains of the master himself, dark corners and empty spaces brightening to lovely places of welcome.

The welcome of Mozart. The love of Mozart.

He continued rather batteringly so, hoping anyone could hear it. If only someone could hear it... then he would have purpose once more.

Isabelle

Isabelle moved slowly back into the front sitting room. The others seemed to have gone farther into the guest house, and were no longer in the front room. Isabelle rested her hand on the back of the nearest armchair and looked around the room. Her eyes fell on the clock in the corner of the room. Isabelle started. Had she really spent nearly half an hour listening to William's playing?

Isabelle took her hand off of the armchair's soft back. She had better find the others, to see how they were settling in.

A shark rapping noise came from the front door. Isabelle jerked her head toward the closed door. Puzzled, she narrowed her eyes. Who would be knocking at the door? Isabelle's mother?

Isabelle crossed the room lightly. She paused for another moment, then opened the door cautiously.

"Hello, Isabelle."

Isabelle's blood turned cold. She froze in place, her eyes staring dumbfoundedly up at the man before her.

"Pierre," Isabelle breathed, leaning on the door for support. She hadn't expected him to come; Why would he come? Pierre could only hate her. Isabelle had never even fathomed the idea that he would show his face to her. And now, Isabelle could only gawk up at him. Pierre pursed his lips, and placed one of his hands on the door, forcing it completely open. Isabelle reared backward.

"You aren't going to invite me in?" he said coldly, stepping across the door frame. Isabelle sucked in a breath of air as she met his eyes. Pierre returned her gaze with a cold, calculating loathing.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Isabelle shakily. Pierre fixed her with a long stare. After a moment, he turned to inspect every corner of the sitting room. Isabelle watched him move slowly around the circumference of the room, taking in every detail. Finally, he turned back to Isabelle.

"Close the door, Isabelle, or you'll make me feel unwanted."

"Get out," spat Isabelle, stepping forward threateningly. "I warn you, if - "

Pierre stepped closer. He bent down slightly so his nose was only inches away from Isabelle's. "That would be unwise of you," he said softly, his eyes glittering with hatred. Isabelle stepped back.

"What do you mean?"

"Do not threaten me, Isabelle," said Pierre, straightening. "It could prove very unfortunate."

Isabelle started at the threat. What had Pierre become? The last time Isabelle saw him, he was nothing like this. In the year of Isabelle's absence, Pierre had become a twisted, deranged version of his less-than-savory older self. Isabelle breathed out slowly. This was not a Pierre to toy with. "What do you want?" she asked measuredly, as she moved to shut the door. She felt Pierre's eyes on her as she did so. Isabelle turned quickly to face him again.

"I'm surprised at you," he quipped. "The great and clever Isabelle Barnett could not deduce my reasons for coming herself?"

Isabelle's neck hairs rose as Pierre inspected her. "No, I cannot," she replied tensely. "There is no reason for you to be here that I can see."

Pierre made a small 'tsk'ing noise in the back of his throat. "We have quite a large amount of unfinished business together, Isabelle. Perhaps you have forgotten?"

Isabelle's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious," she whispered hoarsely. "You - "

"You parents," snapped Pierre, a demented look coming into his eyes. "and mine had an agreement. This agreement was made public long before you so cowardly ran away. In the eyes of the law, that agreement still stands. The situation had not changed, dear Isabelle. And I have come to remind you of that agreement, and how you are still bound to it."

Pierre had been advancing on her. Isabelle took a step back for every step he took forward, but it had only landed her cornered against the wall. "Pierre," she said quickly. "You can't mean this! You hate me, I can see it in your eyes, and I don't blame you! You are angry, and I don't blame you! I was irresponsible, I admit, but - "

"Then have you come back to Paris to redeem yourself?" hissed Pierre.

" - but I will not apologize!"

Pierre's face was only inches away from Isabelle's now. Isabelle glared up at him. "I never had a say in that agreement. I am not bound by anything."

Pierre gave Isabelle a taut smile. "You are tied to this agreement nonetheless. I do not care if you deny it or not, but you will honor it."

Isabelle gritted her teeth and shoved Pierre away. She sped to the opposite side of the room before turning to face him again. "I'd like to see you even begin to try to force me to honor that hogwash," spat Isabelle furiously. "I have no ties in Paris, as my mother and father so kindly reminded me a few hours ago. You have no sway over my actions, whatsoever."

"Is that so?" asked Pierre, bored. He looked toward the hallway where Isabelle could faintly hear William playing on the piano again. "I've heard that you have come with companions, your friends."

Isabelle glared at Pierre. "They have nothing to do with any of this," she snarled, clutching the back of the armchair again.

Pierre lifted an eyebrow at her. "So you've grown loyal to your captors?" he asked casually. Isabelle's jaw dropped in shock.

"What?" she asked, horrified. "No! They - "

Pierre lifted a finger. "Kidnapping," he said slowly. "is a severely punishable offense by law. Imagine what the police will think of me, when I hand them all of your kidnappers to them on a silver platter. You, poor soul, have been held captive for a year. I can't imagine the anxiety you've suffered. But I'll be the honorable gentleman and take you into my home and family, as was the plan before your untimely kidnap. What say you, Isabelle? Marvelous, no?"

Isabelle froze. "You wouldn't," she whispered.

Pierre crossed the room and took hold of Isabelle's hand. Isabelle was in too much shock to remove it. "You were always so loyal to your friends," he said quietly. "Pity that you've been in captivity so long that your mind can no longer distinguish between friend or felon."

Isabelle met his eyes desperately, quivering. She couldn't bring her friends all this way for nothing. Guilt washed over Isabelle. This was all her fault! They would have been safer at the Chateau, where they could at least have fended the police off for a while.

Pierre blinked at Isabelle. Isabelle shuddered. His tone might have warmed, but his eyes still held than unnerving animosity. "You have two choices, Isabelle. Refuse me, and watch your friends rot in prison. Or you can accept to honor our arrangement. If you accept, I will expect you to attend a ball tomorrow night in a wonderfully charming little country home I've just bought. It is there we will announce our engagement."

Isabelle swallowed. "Why are you doing this?" she asked Pierre nervously. Pierre narrowed his eyes.

"You cannot imagine the shame I felt after you left, Isabelle. I lived in agony, that the woman who would have been my wife ran away in a childish bout of resentment, when hundreds of others would have lined up for the opportunity to join their family with mine."

"If there were others, why - ?"

"Because, Isabelle," snarled Pierre, his grip on her hand tightening. "I want you to feel even a sliver of the living death I suffered through. I want to give you the very thing you so obviously fear. And perhaps, after all of this is done, you will accept your fate. It still is a very smart match, you and I. I am willing to take that gamble."

Isabelle looked away from him. Isabelle didn't see any way to escape this. Either way, Pierre would win. But Joshua, Mercy, William, even Mikael didn't need to suffer for her mistake. Isabelle looked back to Pierre.

"Fine," she said, her voice breaking. "I will go to this ball with you."

Pierre smiled vengefully. He kissed her hand. "It is a masquerade, my dear. The carriage will pick you up tomorrow morning."

Pierre backed away and surveyed Isabelle's haunched form. He gave another triumphant smile, and walked out of the guest house. Isabelle sank into the armchair. She stared at the rich carpet on the floor for a moment, then sobs began to wreck her whole body.

**Another really long one, guys, but I had to get a lot of info in. If you are unsure about what is going on, check the DT. And, well, may I present "Tim", everyone?

**I like this 'Tim'.

Joshua

It was her sobs that alarmed him, and so sad they were. He had heard the knock on the door but he expected it to be someone he had no desire to meet. New faces were everywhere in this town, new people who wanted to find out what was hidden behind his mask. He had not gotten up because of that fear. And now Isabelle was crying once more, and it seemed there was nothing that he could really do about it. He ambled to his feet stiffly, but he didn't reach for the crutches. He didn't want to be a cripple anymore. He didn't like feeling this helpless. Limping out of the room, he entered the front foyer, where Isabelle was leaning up against the wall, tears falling aimlessly down to the ground.

Even though he didn't wish to be here, even though he wanted to be back at the Chateau, he forgot about that thought and pushed it behind him. For there crying was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen, and he had been being totally selfish. He was being so focused on his own loss and hurt, that he hadn't seen Isabelle's.

The gentle soft sounds of William's piano song kept on going, the merry tune contrasting heavily with the scene before him.

Joshua reached out and touched her shoulder. She had tensed a bit but soon she had melted into his touch. Soon enough, he was holding her, trying to comfort her for whatever was going wrong.

"Isabelle, it is okay, you do not need to cry." Joshua said in nearly a whisper.

"There was no escape, I had to do it!" Her voice sound distorted with her sobs, and it made him even more desperate to make her happy.

"I know there was no escape, we had to go to Paris. Your parents aren't the most hospitable people, but everything will be alright. It will all work out in the end. You did good Isabelle, we would have died back there if it wasn't for you." Joshua said this softly though gripping her tighter as if he wouldn't let her go. "It is because of you Isabelle that we are all alive."

"You don't understand!" She hissed, looking up at him, her eyes a dark cold black. "I have brought us into another trap."

"I don't see how this place is a trap."

"Because of me, all of you are under the eye of the authorities. With one wrong move on my part, you will all be as good as dead! And every move I am forced to make is killing me slowly inside."

"Isabelle, what are you talking about?" Joshua said, looking at her. He instinctively reached up and adjusted his mask like how he used to always do.

"My past has come back to haunt me Joshua, and I don't think I bear to lose any of you."

"Isabelle, we will fight it together, just be strong. I will be here for you always. I will never leave your side." 'You need me now,' Joshua thought, 'as I have always needed you.'

-------------------------

~Incognito

William

His notes fell flat, rather harshly. Had it not been for the noise outside, he would have continued without much thought, but his curiousity was weaning his already breaking will to play. He would play till things became silent, he told himself, then he would go in search of what had been wrong.

He slid from the piano bench slowly, his heart wrenching from the sudden lose. He loved this beautiful piano, so silken and smooth. A lost lover. A most cherished friend. He grimaced before escaping into the halls, silent feet pattering across beautifully glossy wood floors.

He stared around the corner where the noise had been somewhat noticeable... was that sobbing? He wished to comfort but remained where he stood, peering over farther, ever farther, till he caught sight of Isabelle and Joshua consoling within eachother as was what he had expected.

But something was wrong.

And everything was about to change.

**Glad you like him.

Isabelle

Isabelle bit her lip. She looked up at Joshua. "I have to ask something of you," she said softly. "But there's quite a bit of information you need to know, first."

"What is it?" asked Joshua, squeezing her gently. Isabelle stared at the carpet for a moment. He tears were receding slightly, but occasionally one trickled its way down her nose.

"I've never told you why I left Paris in the first place, have I?" Isabelle asked, her voice breaking mid-sentence. She cleared her throat softly.

"I can guess," said Joshua wryly. "Your parents - "

"That's only a part of it," snapped Isabelle harshly. Isabelle cringed. "I'm sorry. I - " Isabelle took a breath. "About a year before I left, my parents made - for lack of a better word - an agreement, a pact, with the Marquis de Gravois's family. They had a son who was of the age where one was expected to begin looking for a future spouse. A marriage between he and I, they decided, was beneficial for both families. The Gravois's would gain a reputation as being charitable after marrying their son far out of his league. The Barnett family, in return, would raise in status. It was decided that the Gravois's youngest son, Pierre, was a suitable match for myself. He would court me for a year, and we would be wed.

When I first met Pierre, I thought him nothing less than a good joke. We met at a gala at the Opera house. I spent most of that evening sending him off on false requests, and slipping away from him when I got the chance. I thought it very good fun, though perhaps the joke wore a tad thin towards the end of the evening. Honestly, that type of relationship went on for months. I knew about my parents' plans, but I could care less. I assumed that I would worm my way out of it when the time came.

But then at some point I noticed Pierre beginning to tire of my frivolities. I began to dislike him more and more, but time was also slipping away quickly. Before I knew it, my mother and the Marquis's wife were making wedding plans. I panicked. I tried every way I could possibly think of to force either my parents or the Marquis's family to reconsider. I failed. I think the Marquis's family believed that the benefits of the wedding would far outweigh the risks. Soon the wedding was only days away. Finally, it struck me that I was not going to be able to talk my way out of that mess, so I did the only sensible option left to me. I ran.

I stayed in England for somewhere around a week or so, but grew tired there quickly. I was on my way to Spain when I met Hester and Hiram. I think you can guess the rest."

Isabelle looked at Joshua. He stood up slowly, and walked toward the window. Isabelle noticed that William had come into the room at some point during Isabelle's story. He hovered in the doorway nervously.

"And this - Pierre," said Joshua slowly. "He just came here? That is who you were talking to?"

"Yes," said Isabelle softly. "He - He's changed. He's dangerous, cruel. He - He wants me to honor the bargain struck up by my parents and his a year ago."

Joshua turned and marched over to her. He grasped Isabelle's arm reassuringly. "We'll leave Paris. Now. You don't have to do anything he - "

"Stop it," Isabelle shuddered, stepping away. "I do, Joshua. I've told him that I will honor it. Please, understand that I had to!"

"Why?"

Isabelle placed a hand over her face. "Do not ask this of me, Joshua. You would do well not to know."

"Why is that?"

"Because he will claim that you all kidnapped me!" cried Isabelle, glaring up at Joshua. "Pierre will say that I have grown emotionally attached to my captors, that I am not fit to defend them in any type of trial. You'll be caught, all of you!" Isabelle seized Joshua's hand. "Joshua, listen to me. There's nothing you can do. Just give me the peace of mind that wherever I end up, you and William, Mercy and - and even Mikael will be safe."

Isabelle pulled away slowly, her eyes never leaving Joshua's face. Isabelle hesitated a moment. "And I have one more thing to ask of you," she murmured. "I've promised Pierre that I will go with him to a masquerade he is holding on some country estate of his. Yes, I know," said Isabelle quickly. "Ironic, isn't it?" Isabelle sat up straighter. "When the time comes, I will go with Pierre. But I don't think I am strong enough to face this masquerade alone. Will you come with me?" asked Isabelle, looking from Joshua to William, who was still standing awkwardly in the door frame. "I don't have the willpower to do it alone."

Joshua

He looked at her, eyes closing for a brief moment. Betrothed. Everything he had felt, everything he had done was for naught because even his pathetic emotions in his chest could not reverse this curse. He had tried to push away his emotions to protect her from him. And now, when the chance came to start all over, there was another problem that surfaced his emotions once more.

If only he could cry for a brief moment, if only he was able to do such a thing, and not be cursed as a monster. A masquerade, a dance that mirrored the same that started all these problems. He had thought that chapter had ended, but it seemed that it was only setting the stage for the end.

"I will come." He said openning his eyes and staring at her. "I have said before, I will always be at your side."

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~Incognito

*Can you find the hidden foreshadowing? ;D*

William

"Aye, as will I go," William stated, sounding more brave than he felt for sure. He had to grow up, be brave. He had to try... And she deserved that much from him.

And Joshua couldn't do this alone. His heart wasnt in it. His will power was barely there, but his heart was surely distant. He was hurt and with that hurt was fear for the future.

Isabelle, with her lifestory so saddening, and Joshua with his heart being ripped in two... had it not been for the piano in the other room, he thought he would be crying himself. As he always cried. Why he wasnt was completely beyond him now.

Maybe it was his time to grow up. His time to fight for something... anything. He didn't know how much time left he would have to fight... and maybe this would be his only chance. For God had different plans. The ominous bell was ringing, signalling an end to the happiness they brought him. Maybe those bells were singing a different tune for him and deep down, he knew this could be the defining moment.

So he stood with no tears in his eyes, no quiver on his lip. Just a blank face and strong eyes staring at the starcrossed lovers. Just staring at the mess life unfolded.

And for one last time, he would fight.

**ACH! Sorry for not posting in a long while!!!

Isabelle

Isabelle was dancing. Her partner was faceless, but she trusted him instinctively. They were alone in a vast ballroom. Isabelle could see an orchestra playing music in the corners of her eyes, but very time she turned to look at them, they disappeared. Isabelle brushed it off.

The night wore on, and Isabelle and her partner talked and laughed. Isabelle felt serene and calm. She hadn't a care in the world.

The pain started slowly. Every few moments, Isabelle would twirl and b startled by a twinge of pain in her feet. Isabelle realized that she didn't know how long she had been dancing. She looked around the ballroom for a clock, or even a window in order to figure out what time it was. Isabelle noted with annoyance that the ballroom was totally empty.

Her partner said something to Isabelle, and Isabelle laughed. She decided to ignore the pain for now. Surely it would go away.

Isabelle was wrong. The pain only increased. Worse, Isabelle realized that they had begun to wear a hole in the dance floor. They danced in the same circle over and over again, and the indentation in the floor grew deeper. Soon enough, Isabelle wasn't sure if they would b able to get out of the hole once the music ended. She voiced her concerns to her partner, but he brushed it off. Isabelle's feet had begun to throb now. She needed to sit down, but there were no chairs. She suggested to her partner that they had been dancing for hours, and that perhaps they should stop. Her partner laughed, but did nothing. Isabelle realized that she couldn't break away from his grasp. Isabelle and her partner twirled away, just as carefree as before, but some of the enjoyment was gone for Isabelle. She had to stop dancing, to get out of the hole before it was too late. Isabelle had to -

Isabelle opened his eyes slowly. Her room was dark, but Isabelle could faintly see the silhouettes of the various pieces of the room's furniture in the moonlight that streamed through the window. Isabelle sat up, blinking. She spotted hr dressing gown in the corner of the room. Isabelle sighed, and got out of bed silently to put it on. Isabelle doubted she would be able to go back to sleep.

Isabelle stood for a moment, looking around her room. She glanced out of the window and out onto the Barnetts' beautiful garden. With a start, Isabelle spotted a circular clump of hedges in the far edge of the garden. They grew closer together toward the top of the plants, but through a gap in the leaves, Isabelle could make out a small, hidden area where the plants did not grow. Isabelle knew it well. It had been her special spot as a child, but Isabelle had no idea that it could be seen easily from the guest house.

Isabelle stared at it for a moment, then quietly left her room to go out into the garden herself. It was a clear night. The moon was full, and the stars twinkled clearly in the velvety sky. Isabelle hugged herself against the chilly breeze as she walked toward the hedge circle. She gently parted the plants, and gazed in awe of the circular alcove. It was so small to her now, but Isabelle remembered the place as a palace.

Isabelle smiled at the plants fondly. She was suddenly overcome by the urge to laugh as she remembered startling the old gardener one day when she was hiding. She chuckled softly at the memory. Isabelle let the branches of the plant fall back to their original position, obscuring the hideaway from view. Isabelle moved to sit on a small bench a few feet away. Isabelle looked around the garden pensively. She heard a fountain trickling quietly.

Th whole scene was indescribably beautiful to Isabelle. She realized that there existed little, shining gems of her childhood that she had forgotten. And as she sat there, bathed in moonlight and surrounded by the few, shining memories, Isabelle felt more tranquil than she had in ages.

**Hm. Perhaps that was a bit unnecessary, but I thought it would do good.

Joshua

He had been walking in the garden all night, hoping to catch a glimpse of a moon flower but there seemed to be none. He hated it here and the longer he stayed the more he hated it. He would find little details that he did not like and add it to the growing list, but most of all, he was scared the longer he was the here, the more he would forget about the Chateau.

He could still picture the place. When he closed his eyes he would picture himself walking through the halls aimlessly as he used to. He used to picture Hiram and Hester in their radiance and elegance. He would remember the large ballroom, the grand staircases and the derelict beauty of it all.

But most of all he missed the closeness he had felt there. He always had people, always knew they were near and he was able to talk to them, but here it seemed like everyone was different. Everyone was cold and was rapped up in their own thoughts. There was no room for comfort or any subtle bit of hope.

He did not know what to think about Isabelle's history and predicament. It was hard for him to understand. She much be as confused as he was. But there was one aspect that seemed to loom over him, and that was the mention of fiance.

Instinctively he didn't like this man, but he felt more sad and betrayed then angered. For it seemed that he loved Isabelle and he had thought that she had loved him in return. Instead she hid her past from him, not telling him about this aspect, preferring them to be surrounded by unknown secrets. They seemed to be surrounding all of them now in a dark obscure cloud and he could not make sense of it all. One by one they were becoming known to him and it was almost overbearing, almost too much.

Slipping into a slow step, he walked trapped in his thoughts. Trees, shrubs, bushes, flowers. There was plenty of them and yet he could not find the beauty in them. They seemed almost fake, almost as if they were false and didn't belong there. Almost as if they were all dead but hidden by an illusion of life and grandeur.

But turning a corner, there she was. Isabelle, in her unmasked beauty sitting silently in the pale morning light.

She sat alone.

And yet he did not go to her.

The news about her fiance was too resent and he felt his heart strings being pulled in his chest. Oh how he wished it could just be as it should have been, him ultimately human, sitting in the poor end of New Orleans, working small jobs for ends meat. He didn't belong in this false and hidden world. Grandeur was so close, and yet they were forever out of reach because he was now a monster.

It was the same with Isabelle, in her ravishing beauty. He could never have a chance. Grandeur always out of reach for a poor boy from New Orleans.

He walked passed her, eyes trailing on the ground.

He had to go and prepare himself for where ever the hell they were going.

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Meh.

~Incognito