welcome

[Luc Chabernaud]

<sup>Once upon a time we were just plain people. But that was before we began having relationships with mechanical systems. Get involved with a machine and sooner or later you are reduced to a factor. Reduced to fighting over whether or not the light on the doorknob was right. This was the seventh time he had gotten confused by how the keys in this damn place worked. Where was Larissa when he needed her? She would have had this all fixed, but no..he had given her the few months off while he struggled to recollect his muse in this godforsaken place. Wait a damn minute..this was HER idea. So he would curse her back to hell and again each time the door made a small beep and flashed red.

It was difficult not to wonder whether that combination of elements which produced a machine for labor does not create also a soul of sorts, a dull resentful metallic will, which can rebel at times. Resting his forehead against the wall, he frowned. Why were things so complicated? Western society had accepted as unquestionable a technological imperative that was quite as arbitrary as the most primitive taboo: not merely the duty to foster invention and constantly to create technological novelties, but equally the duty to surrender to these novelties unconditionally, just because they were offered, without respect to their human consequences. In this case, his suffering over what was supposed to be simple and make handling keys easier.

Groaning, he pulled back and met the lock at eye level, hoping that perhaps it would succomb to his desires and flip open. The worst part was that it had worked just a mere hour ago..but now...now that he /wanted/ to get into his damn room, it wasn't going to let him. He'd have to make a note of this whole ordeal and drop by the management to demand another room, or at least someone to fix this problem. Ridiculously frustrating! A man of his creative nature shouldn't have to wait on the whims of technology to get down to work. Depressing..that's what it was. For once on this bloody vacation, he needed to write. And that was what he did best.

He was a writer who wished to be read by posterity and was not averse to putting hints which might give rise to whole books, or ideas for learned discussions, in some corner of a chapter so that one should think he can afford to throw them away by the thousand. Bit of a puzzle to define by pure attention to detail. Whether it was the red gown a woman was swathed in, or the stain on the carpet that the main character seemed to dwell on. It wass necessary for him to write, if the days were not to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment? For if the moment passes, it was forgotten; the mood was gone; life itself was gone. That was where he scoreed over his peers: he caught the changes of his mind on the hop.

But this was almost unbearable.
Patience was the only thing he set a limit to.

Rising, he straightened his suit and stared at the door. Alright, he'd give it one more shot, he deserved to give himself that much didn't he? Gingerly, he slipped the card into it's designated area; holding his breath. But suspense didn't last long as the common beep sounded again. Cursing sharply under his breath, he threw the card at the ground and set his hands on his hips. What was he doing wrong!?</sup>

[Guinevere Berkshire]

It had seemed like such a beautiful day when she woke up, getting dressed merely to do nothing of importance. And yet as she casually noted the falling of the sun between each movie she watched, she couldn’t help but feel a little bad for being such a recluse. She didn’t think it was all that healthy to spend all day indoors away from everyone, though there were plenty of people for her to socialize with. So, after what had to be the fifth movie that day, she got up and repeated her morning routine; showering, dressing were all done as was the inevitable bout of standing around as she really didn’t know just what it was she wanted to do. Certainly she couldn’t honestly go back to watching movies, but the options seemed endless at this place. She could explore all there was to Monaco in nothing more than a day or two, find a number of never ending mysteries within the resort or, if she were truly daring, she could always skip the country and go to France. It was far too many decisions for her to go through.

So, she decided to break it down into steps. The first being an involuntary one of dusting off her pants before brushing a piece of hair behind her ear, rather displeased with it for being straight, though really, who was there to blame but herself? It was pleasantly messy and slutty earlier, but now it was proper and elegant as a good lady should be. And while, yes, she was a good lady, she hated having to look as though she matched her personality. Not that the alternative of being bait for every man with a cheesy pick up line was any better. Sighing to herself, she made sure everything was off before heading to the door and slipping out quietly, patting her pockets briefly to make sure that she had her key before letting the door close with a quiet click.

Now, the next great decision, left or right. Looking down both sides, she noted they seemed equally nice, but only the left side seemed to have sound coming it and while she would have loved to think of herself above petty curiosity, she wasn’t and quickly headed down the left side. What she found was a bit of a surprise. A maid or some kind of worker would’ve been the logical thing to find, not some nice looking gentleman who couldn’t get into his room. Turning around, to leave him to his problem, she couldn’t help looking back to see if he had managed any success. He hadn’t. So, coming to an abrupt halt, she turned toward him yet again, happy for the fair amount of distance between them as she leaned against the wall watching him.

Cocking her head to the side as she watched him fail yet again, she couldn’t help but feel a bit bad. After all, her key worked perfectly fine and she was certain everyone else’s probably did too. Well, everyone that wasn’t him. She had plenty of advice to give him too, it was just the simple fact that he was a strange man and she could never really let go of her mother’s voice scolding her for talking to odd people in the shop as if she had known them forever. Certainly if the souls had been customers they had been decent enough people. Never the less, it kept her at bay as she glanced around for anyone else who might be watching the man struggling. At least then they could form a bond over all the advice they had for the poor man about how he could get into his room.

Still, it was probably more rude to stand there watching him suffer without so much of a word. Walking over to him quietly, her lips parted with the want to speak, though nothing really came out aside from a mousy little squeak. It would be bad to turn tail and flee from the scene. Never the less, she stood up a little straighter, if not a bit awkwardly as she gestured to his key. “I saw you were having problems with that.” She pointed out since she felt she needed a damn good reason for walking up to a complete stranger after silently watching him like she had. Hopefully he wouldn’t think of her as some giant idiot and tell her to go away, being unnecessarily rude in the face of her awkward kindness.

[Luc Chabernaud]

<sup>Nearly jumping at the approach of this new female, Luc set a hand on the back of his head in surprise; sputtering something under his breath before his gaze flicked to hers. Funny that all they could manage upon meeting one and other was a mix of nonsense and mousy noises. Wonderful impression there Luc. Not quite as suave as his characters were when caught off gaurd by..a very beautiful woman. Of all the fucking times to be locked out of his room and tantruming about it like a child. When she brought forth a reason for showing up, he stared at her blankly, not quite catching on until he snapped back to reality. Funny how a pair of legs could do that to a man. That and her dark eyes..but hey, what was she saying now?

Looking down at the card as he bent to pick it up, Mr. Chabernaud flipped it between his fingers, shoulders rolling helplessly. "I did not think it so hard to open a door until this moment.." He admitted, slipping the key in and earning another little foul beep. He was begining to imagine the security gaurds making a joly spectical of him as he tried continously to unlock the door while cameras bore into his shoulder blades. This was not a break. This was Larrisa's joke of, 'let's see the bos sweat while he can't be at home'. He did not really like vacations. He much prefered an occasional day off when he did not feel like working. When he was confronted with a whole week in which he had nothing to do but enjoy himself he did not know where to begin. To him, enjoyment came fleetingly and unheralded; he couldn't determinedly enjoy himself for a whole week at a time.

And while his assistant had agreed on that matter, she still booked him for three months. He'd have to have her drug tested when he got back. Giving a pathetic look to this new comer, he smiled slightly and offered her his card, "Luc Chabernaud..care to help me?" Came the slow question, tongue rolling over the words in a charming manner as his head tilted slightly to the side with interest. The tables were turned and, once again, Luc was having to turn to a woman for help after spending his entire existance learning what they needed from him. Certainly an odd feeling as the key rested gently between the fingers of his outstretched hand.</sup>

[Guinevere Berkshire]

Reeling back slightly at his surprise, she smiled as confidently as she could. He seemed just as awkward as she was after all. Something she tried to keep in mind instead of believing the worst of him and thinking that his only distraction was her form, especially in the face of that blank stare of his. Of course he seemed to remember the card quickly enough and even picked it up, something that pleased her for some odd little reason. Made her smile considering the reason the thing was on the floor in the first place. It was… endearing in a way. Watching him try and fail once more, she tutted and she shook her head, “I’m sure there’s a very valid reason for why it won’t work.” For she had seen plenty of people with the same problem. It was just the key or the door. Certainly couldn’t be that he was trying for the wrong room since she didn’t think he looked drunk or stupid enough for such a slip.

Never the less, he really did seem like a poor soul. Lord only knew how long the man had been trying to get in his room and well, if she could readily help him, she was happy to. Smiling sweetly, she shook his hand, sliding hers against his as she took the card. “Guinevere Berkshire.” She replied sharply, closing her eyes as she frowned. For whatever reason, every time she said her name it came out sounding to …English. Always clipped and devoid of emotion. Opening one eye hesitantly, she smiled shyly before turning her attention to the key, trying to find any immediate problems with it. Seeing nothing, she brushed by him to get to the door, brushing a fallen strand of hair back before trying the card for herself. Sticking the key in the slot, she waited for a moment, hoping for the light to turn green though it never did. Apparently, it wasn’t going to cooperate no matter who tried to use it.

Turning her attention back to Luc, she shoved her hand in her pocket as she shrugged helplessly, her free hand holding out the card for him. “I’d suggest going down to the front desk and getting a new key. I can even with you if you’d like.” She offered since it would only be rude to leave a job undone after offering to help him out. No, she would see it through to the very end. Even if that meant getting off task from her mission to find her own entertainment. After all, it wasn’t as though the man seemed particularly vile or even looked like he would be, not that she liked to judge people based on looks, but never the less, she felt safe enough around him to stick around for a bit longer than she intended.

[Luc Chabernaud]

<sup>A valid reason had better be presented when he went downstairs and slapped the plastic item on the marble counter. How was it that for a hotel so nice and talked about constantly, a thing as simple as keys didn't work. Was he supposed to think kindly upon Des Baroches now? Pah..they would have to do something convincing to soothe his aggitated mind. "Perhaps they're trying to get rid of me.." He mused, shaking his head sullenly. Why they would, he hadn't a clue, but being paranoid also wasn't his style. A solution had to be found. And if there wasn't one, then a problem probably didn't exist and he was throwing things out of proportion; illogical, yet he had to fall back on something. Oh how he wished he was really drunk..then there shined a small chance he was being a fool; any reasoning would do at this point in time.

Luc's breath caught in anticipation when she slipped the key in. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, and as the red light flashed again, he felt his heart sink in his chest, a small bit of elation shining through though. It meant he wasn't completely retarded...or at least, they both were retarded, and they could be such together. "That's a romance name." He informed her, noting her reaction to how it had come off her tongue. British women, bless them, never seemed to be the most caring of creatures. Beautiful and horrible cold; he liked to blame it on the weather, who could be happy with all that damn rain?

Taking the card and feeling rather miffed about it, he slipped it into the breast pocket of his suit. "Ah..wonderful, would do me some good to have someone keeping me from simply leaving this place." He said, a hint of a smile on his mouth as he gestured down the hall. "Out of curiosity, are you here for business or pleasure?" Luc was quite aware that one of the floors held merely offices and boardrooms, and to be staying in the penthouse, you were either wealthy in and of yourself, or your company was shelling out a pretty penny for you to stay comfortably.</sup>

[Guinevere Berkshire]

“Doubtful. They don’t make a profit without you here.” she pointed out before really thinking it over. Smiling at her own private thoughts, she added, “Unless of course they just steal credit card numbers and the sort and have milked you dry of every penny you have.” Seemed well within the rumours and she was certain, if she told the right people, that would be in the headlines within a good week or so. Of course, then she might not have a place to stay and that wouldn’t be much fun either. So with a small sigh and a gentle shake of her head she decided against it, at least to herself. Him? Well, he could make his own decisions on such a thing.

Oh now that was just a miserable thought and she was more than ready to berate him for such a tihng. Rushing her hair behind her ears, she laced her fingers in front of her stomach, she frowned briefly before nodding to herself. “Yes, well, it’s actually a very lovely place with plenty to do. You could go out to the gardens, the yatchs in the harbour. Not to mention that the hotel it’s self always has something going, if your interest doesn’t lie in the city. And then there’s France and Italy off at opposite ends, in a manner of speaking.” She pointed out in rapid fire succession as she wandered down the halls easily.

But with a small pause between her first point and the many others she had thought of since the beginning of her statement, she looked at him curiously before shrugging it off. “I’m on a semi-permanent vacation in the resort.” Semi-permanent because she hadn’t a clue what to do with herself or where she ought to flee off to next. The choices were endless and she had the money from her lovely business to keep up with her flighty behaviour. Focusing on him thought, she furrowed her brows as she stared at him, the look not quite far enough gone for her to merely be looking through him. “And yourself since I doubt I’ve asked you such a thing?”