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Default 11-18-2008, 10:22 PM

Dia's eyebrows creased slightly, and her lips angled downward. "Yes, yes, I believe I really must be going," She grabbed her bag, threw the money for her meal onto the table, and stood up. "See you at five, Mr. Carlisle," she said curtly, "I have museums to attend.." she said with a small smile, as if her last attempt at friendlyness, and walked out of the resturaunt.


John Bonham
29 years gone, but never forgotten.
R.I.P.
5-31-48 - 9-25-80
We salute you.
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Default 11-18-2008, 10:28 PM

'Mr. Carlisle' summed out his share of the meal from his DC Comics patterned billfold. He called the waitress to attention and handed her the payment. She grabbed the remaining dishes on the table and ran off to the kitchen. She soon returned with Brennan's change. He stuffed it in his pocket, heaved his coat and rucksack over his shoulders. On his way out, he winked at Becca, then smirked. He pushed out of the doorway to the tea house and into the crowded street outside. He jetted towards the metro station, a block or two up the street. He scurried down linolium-tiled steps on a stairway and into the station. He fed his public service vehicles pass into the entrance machine and jogged towards the purple route. He was going to stop by his apartment before going to work.
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Default 11-18-2008, 10:33 PM

Two blocks down from the tea house, Dia pulled out a Paris city map from her bag, and traced the line with her finger, where she had drawn the quickest route to the museum of her choice. Her first finger landed on a red dot circled twice, and headed in that direction.
Fifteen minutes later, she payed her fee, and entered the museum, taking notes of various things in it that caught her attention. "It'd make a good article, later.." she said to herself.


John Bonham
29 years gone, but never forgotten.
R.I.P.
5-31-48 - 9-25-80
We salute you.
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Default 11-18-2008, 10:39 PM

Brennan leaped up the staircase to the second floor, on which his apartment sat. He jogged down the stretch of tackily-carpeted hallway to his flat. He dug a set of keys out of his pocket and inserted a specific key into the fitted keyhole in the doorknob. He turned it and swung open the door to the apartment. He pulled the key from the hole and shut the door behind him. He dropped his rucksack to the floor and ran over to his stereo. Inserted his copy of "If" by Mindless Self Indulgence, then started his typewriter at the opposite side of the room. Pling-pling-pling, pling. He had typed Yes,.
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Default 11-18-2008, 10:43 PM

Brennan had winked by her when he had left.
Becca took out a $20 bill,placed it on the table,took her donut and left.
She then started to follow him to his apartment.
He typed in a code,and Becca could only see a few.Dangit...




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Default 11-18-2008, 10:47 PM

Dia continued to read info-plaques and take notes, until a security guard walked up, and tapped her on the shoulder. She twirled around, "Yes?" she asked, looked down, and dotted her sentence. She looked back up, and at the clock. "Closing time?" She asked. The guard nodded. "Dam'n! I'm going to be late!" The clock read fifteen past five.
She rushed into the street, and hailed a cab, stuffing her notebook into her messenger bag as she did. She jumped in, and showed the Parisian cab driver the address scribbled onto the paper of the black-bound notebook. He nodded and drove off.


John Bonham
29 years gone, but never forgotten.
R.I.P.
5-31-48 - 9-25-80
We salute you.
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Default 11-18-2008, 10:56 PM

Brennan stood at the front desk of the shop and conversed with the small girl who worked in the shop during his shift.
He did not see Dia, and it was already twenty-one after five.
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Default 11-18-2008, 10:59 PM

Boring....
Becca thought.
She sat down on one of the stares leading to the entrance.




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Default 11-18-2008, 11:00 PM

She ran up to the desk, breathless. A small, minute bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face, which she wiped away quickly. "S-sorry I'm la-ate." She said, inbetween breaths. "The t-hime esc-haped me." She noticed his female co-worker, and shot her a glare.


John Bonham
29 years gone, but never forgotten.
R.I.P.
5-31-48 - 9-25-80
We salute you.
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Default 11-18-2008, 11:01 PM

Brennan tapped his fingers against the desk impatiently as his co-worker wrung up a customer with dexterous fingers. Brennan found himself to be jealous of these and pondered over ways in which he could posses their clones.
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