Café du Monde

[The Phantom of Paris]

Cassandra "Cassie" Wright

"So, are you ready to order?"

"Yeah," Cat replied, now looking slightly intimidated. "But, I forgot what that thing is called."

"Beignet," Cassie repeated, enunciating clearly. "They're French. They're basically like doughnut-pastry type things with powdered sugar. Sort of like an elephant ear, if you've ever eaten those...?" she added, dropping the name of a similar treat she'd had on trips to her family's cottage in Michigan. Except I can never remember if those are just a Michigan thing or not...are they called something different outside of festivals and fairs and stuff?

"So, you better do the orderin'~um~ing, and I'll do the paying."

At that, she offered up a smile. "No problem," she said, stepping up to the counter to do just that.

At the table they'd found, the conversation drifted to the fact that, if not for Cassie moving in with Lilith, they would have been neighbors, which prompted Cassie to give a brief explanation of the circumstances that had led to her decision. She felt her face reddening as she did so, noting that Cat, too, seemed uncomfortable. Fantastic. So now I'm freaking him out by airing out all the stupid skeletons in my closet. That's just great. Luckily for the both of them, however, Cat at least had the tact to change the subject to school. Cassie's interest was piqued when he mentioned that he didn't exactly know what grade he would be going into. Why wouldn't he know that? His accent is clearly American, so it's not like there's that confusion that schools sometimes have with exchange students and stuff...although he did mention being in Paris, and from the sound of it, he was there for longer than just a vacation. Something about the way he talked about the artists at the Louvre made me think he'd seen them more than once. Maybe...

"I guess it does a little," she said in answer to his question, "But not as weird as you think. I mean, I don't know your school background or anything--for all I know, you're a super-genius or something who's skipped a bunch of grades."

At that, Cat had to quickly suppress his laughter, making Cassie's eyes twinkle with amusement as she watched him glance around like he'd done something wrong. Laughing's okay. You should do it more often. "Do you know which school you'll be going to? My sister's still at one of the high schools around. She's a junior. Maybe you'll run into her at some point."


"I don't really know right now. They just told me today, and I guess I freaked out 'cause I thought I was pretty much through with regular school though~well...I didn't exactly graduate." Cassie nodded as he continued. I figured as much...you don't really look old enough to have graduated, really.

"Lessons. I been~um~I've been taking lots of them: voice, violin, dancing~formal, like ballroom."

"Wow," Cassie said, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "You have done a lot."

"Maybe piano again. I was thinking about learning fencing. Only took a few lessons." He changed the subject again. "Your sister. That would be weird, wouldn't it, if I ended up going to school where she does?"

She gave a little shrug. "I guess it might be. But you never know."

"I asked why I couldn't just have a tutor, but...By the way, I'm not a super-genius. You could prob'ly tell that, right? I'm not stupid. Maybe I'm kind of lazy about learning. Some things are hard, like paying attention. I keep noticing stuff and forget to listen to the teacher. Then, they ask questions, and I don't know what they've been talking about. So, the others laugh at me and..." A look of sadness came over his face, and Cassie mentally kicked herself for allowing him to talk about things that upset him so much. "It's okay," she said softly, offering up a little smile. "I get it. It doesn't mean you're not smart or anything, you just learn differently. Everyone does, actually, but most schools are too stupid to realize it."

"I'll bet you're really smart, huh, Cassie? And, you like school, and you're a really good student, aren't you?"

Cassie couldn't help it--she snorted with amusement, shaking her head. "Nope, definitely not. That's Shelby's territory, the school thing. My sister," she added after a moment, realizing that he would have no idea who she was talking about. "No, I've always been more into the artsy stuff than the academic. I graduated by the grace of God and nothing else, seriously. " She chuckled a little, shaking her head. "It's weird though, now I almost kind of miss it even though I wanted to get out of there so badly."


"You remind me so much of someone...Maybe that's why I..."

Whatever he was about to say, the barista's voice interrupted him, and Cassie jumped up to get their order and bring it back to the table. "Here you go," she said brightly, trying to mask any lingering awkwardness as she handed him his coffee and pastry. "I really hope you like it. In my mind, there are certain things you have to go in order to consider yourself a real resident of New Orleans, and this is one of them." She took a huge bite of her beignet, spilling powdered sugar down onto the table and her lap. "Try it!"

[mystmoonstruck]

Easy "Cat" Tanner

Easy had hoped that admitting his ignorance of whatever treat this was might earn him a scornful look, but Cassie remained as sweet as ever, carefully repeating, "Beignet. They're French. They're basically like doughnut-pastry type things with powdered sugar. Sort of like an elephant ear, if you've ever eaten those...?" He had to shake his head "no" at that and couldn't avoid the quizzical look over elephant ear, which brought a bizarre vision to mind that wasn't particularly appetizing. Still, he supposed that was what was being handed out to people, and the smells weren't too bad, so he wouldn't be embarrassing himself by looking too ill as sometimes happened with cooking odors. He was still game as he offered to pay, which she accepted with a smile, ordering for them. He knew he would have forgotten the word as soon as he tried to say it, or his pronunciation would be so terrible that he wouldn't be understood, or~well~a dozen other worries.

Once they were seated. he tried to release the worries that had piled up, as they often did. Someone had told him a proverb or old saying or whatever: Worry is interest paid in advance on a debt you may never owe. He still wasn't certain he understood it, but he knew the person had meant to say Easy worried too much. Years ago, he had perfected an attitude that claimed he couldn't care less about the future or even what the next hour might bring. But, that always had been a lie. Allegra had said that she was amazed he didn't have ulcers because his fears seemed to never cease, with worries rising faster than he could put them into words. He recalled her attempts to teach him meditation, but his busy mind had refused to be lulled. Now, here he was, trying very hard to focus on the moment, to allow a friendship to build and not fear what pain he might bring to others' lives.

Live in the moment, he prodded himself as they continued their conversation. He noticed that she was forgiving of his awkward speech and that burst of laughter that might have caused others to slink away from him with one of those looks that said, I have noooo idea who this crazy boy is! He would have been amazed that she welcomed his laughter, just as he was surprised that anyone could guess he was as intelligent as she suggested. It did make him feel braver by listing the classes he had taken in Paris, especially at her response.

"Wow! You have done a lot," she commended, and his expression was filled with gratitude because she had given him a sense of pride that he had accomplished something during his time away from the grasp of his parents then away from even his bargained-for guardian. However, it was regular classes that would give him problems: English, mathematics, some of the simpler subjects that others had mastered long ago. He admitted his dread of returning to school, remembering the many times he would be lost to a teacher's words, his mind wandering, often visualizing the streets he would escape to as soon as he was free of the confines of a school.

"It's okay," she said quietly, and she smiled at him, coaxing a like smile in return. It was strange really, as if she had reached over and patted his hand comfortingly, and he was so grateful that his heart ached. "I get it," she assured him. "It doesn't mean you're not smart or anything, you just learn differently. Everyone does, actually, but most schools are too stupid to realize it."

That statement, calling schools "stupid", surprised him so that he emitted a bit of a laugh. He had never heard anyone state it quite that way, about him learning differently. When Allegra or others who had tried to befriend him had helped him with lessons, he sometimes caught on faster. Maybe that's why he had asked about a tutor, thinking that one-on-one learning was more effective. However, he knew that Chancery and Mehmet wanted him to learn to fit in, thus high school was going to be inevitable. It would help if he knew someone there, the sister of his first friend in New Orleans. He liked the feeling of connection, a rarity in his life, which had been filled with drifting, much of it quite aimless.

"I'll bet you're really smart, huh, Cassie?" He believed that because of his time with her, the way she acted and spoke to him. Most of all, she reminded him of Allegra, one of the most intelligent people he had ever met. It couldn't be just her appearance, could it? "And, you like school, and you're a really good student, aren't you?" Well, that was a grand leap, but she had done the same for him, so she could laugh now~which she did, causing his smile to go a bit crooked, a rueful look that indicated he understood.

"Nope, definitely not. That's Shelby's territory, the school thing." she said, adding clarification: "My sister." He nodded his understanding but was truly surprised at her denial. "No, I've always been more into the artsy stuff than the academic. I graduated by the grace of God and nothing else, seriously." He joined in her laughter, beginning to feel a freedom he had not experienced for a very long time~that he was not being judged on every word, how he spoke, what he did or didn't do. She was as accepting as he tried to be with people. "It's weird though, now I almost kind of miss it even though I wanted to get out of there so badly."

"I sort of understand that. I kinda feel like~like Phantom, this cat we had as a pet back in Paris. Seems like he always wants to be on the other side of the door. That's what I feel like: like I need to be several me's so I could be different places with different people. Prob'ly everybody feels like that sometimes, huh?" Then, he had almost spoken of Allegra again when their number was called and Cassie hurried to pick it up, returning with it before he could register that he should have done it or at least stood when she left the table, so Jamil Mehmet would have told him.

"Here you go." As she placed the beignet and cup before him, he looked dubiously at the confection which promised to be messy. "I really hope you like it. In my mind, there are certain things you have to go in order to consider yourself a real resident of New Orleans, and this is one of them." As if to demonstrate, she took a huge bite of the pastry, resulting in a shower of sugar in her general vicinity. "Try it!" she encouraged him, perhaps noticing his hesitancy.

Between thumb and forefinger, Easy the leftie tentatively grasped a corner of the pastry and tugged, resulting in pretty much the same result as Cassie had produced: a mini-explosion and shower of powdered sugar that seemed to go everywhere to his dismay, sending his right hand into action, brushing away the mess. As if it might nibble him, he brought the bit to his lips, finding his body reluctant to allow this calorie-laden intruder within. Dutifully, he forced his mouth open, inserted pastry then chewed, looking thoughtful, trying to decide if he liked it. Thinking it might help, he took a sip of the coffee, pleased to find it sweet and creamy enough for his picky taste, the sweetness accented by the powdered sugar. He was quite aware that the average youth his age would be devouring the treat, but he simply could not pick up the thing and sink his teeth into it.

"Good," he finally said, nodding and smiling as enthusiastically as he could but knowing that his actions belied the word. "It really is good and~um~rich. I'm sort of used to..." He reached for something that might be similar. "...doughnuts I guess, plain stuff like that. It's~um~messy." He giggled nervously, tearing another minuscule piece from what was expanding, in his overactive imagination, to a mountainous, deep-fried concoction. "Chance~um~Mr. Chancery once had a chef make this stuff called cinnamon toast~toast and butter and lots of powdered sugar with cinnamon. Every time he~like~exhaled when he took a bite, the white stuff went everywhere." He giggled again, this time at the memory. "He tried to get me to eat some, but I chickened out. He'll prob'ly love these things." The second sample he also managed to stow away as he tried to think of something else to say. "You~um~you said you're out of high school. So, you're going to college maybe? Or... It's none of my business really. Sometimes I'm way too curious and ask too many questions. Seems like I never know when to stop talkin'. Just tell me, 'Shut up, Cat!' when you get tired of hearing me talk." The rueful grin was back as he suddenly found the powdered coating of the beignet intriguing, sticking a finger in it then dropping it on the surface of the coffee, watching it dissolve. Often, if he played with his food enough and kept conversation going, the other person might not notice his reluctance to eat and, in this case, drink as well.

[The Phantom of Paris]

Cassandra "Cassie" Wright

She tried her best to keep from cracking up when Cat asked her if she was great in school, but failed miserably, the snort of laughter spilling from her mouth before she could stop it. Smooth, Cassie. Real smooth. "Nope, definitely not," she said vehemently. "That's Shelby's territory, the school thing. My sister." Cat gave a nod, but Cassie noted that he still didn't seem convinced. What, you wanna see my final report card or something? Almost all C's and I think two B's, if I remember correctly. 'C is for Cassie,' that's what Shelby used to say when she was mad at me. She really liked to throw that in my face sometimes... "No, I've always been more into the artsy stuff than the academic. I graduated by the grace of God and nothing else, seriously. It's weird though, now I almost kind of miss it even though I wanted to get out of there so badly."

These words were true, as strange as they were. Cassie had already stopped by to visit her old high school twice already since graduation, catching up with some of her favorite teachers and talking to former classmates about the realities of college. She liked these visits for the most part, but they always felt a little surreal to her--like she was just a ghost in those old familiar halls, someone who had once belonged there but didn't anymore.

"I sort of understand that," Cat told her, laughing along with her. I kinda feel like~like Phantom, this cat we had as a pet back in Paris."

"Phantom," Cassie repeated, her smile widening. "That's a good name for a cat. Like the Phantom of the Opera or something."

"Seems like he always wants to be on the other side of the door. That's what I feel like: like I need to be several me's so I could be different places with different people. Prob'ly everybody feels like that sometimes, huh?" She gave a nod, about to elaborate when he mentioned that Cassie reminded her of someone and their order was called at the same time, making Cassie jump up to go get it. Her curiosity had been piqued at his words, but she figured it would probably be better for both of them if she backed off a bit, let him relax and eat for a bit without her interrogating him.

"Here you go. I really hope you like it. In my mind, there are certain things you have to go in order to consider yourself a real resident of New Orleans, and this is one of them." She took a bite of her own beignet and was immediately covered in powdered sugar, the majority of it falling onto her napkin and the tabletop. She gave him a 'what can you do?' look and a shrug, urging him on. "Try it!"

The way he approached the beignet reminded her of the way Grace, her six-year-old step-cousin and a notoriously picky eater, went about trying a new food. He made sure to take the tiniest bite possible, holding the pastry away from him as if he was afraid it would jump up and bite him. Unlike Cassie's calm reaction to the powdered-sugar volcano, he seemed more distressed than ever, brushing it away as if they would get in trouble for spilling crumbs on the table. When he finally got it into his mouth, he chewed tentatively, apparently thinking hard about the treat. Cassie took another bite of her own as she watched, following it up with a sip of coffee and wiping some of the sugar off her mouth. "Good," after what seemed like forever, reaching out to take a sip of his own drink. "It really is good and~um~rich. I'm sort of used to...doughnuts I guess, plain stuff like that."

Cassie took another sip of her coffee, nodding. "Yeah, I guess it is kind of fancy. It's definitely not something you see every day outside of New Orleans, although I thought you might have maybe had one before since you said you've been in Paris."

It's~um~messy."

This made Cassie laugh out loud, nodding again. "I think that's an understatement, yeah!"


"Chance~um~Mr. Chancery once had a chef make this stuff called cinnamon toast~toast and butter and lots of powdered sugar with cinnamon."

There was that name again--Chance. Cassie was dying to know who he was, but all she allowed herself to say was. "I love cinnamon toast! I used to eat it all the time when I was a little kid."

"Every time he~like~exhaled when he took a bite, the white stuff went everywhere. He tried to get me to eat some, but I chickened out. He'll prob'ly love these things...You~um~you said you're out of high school. So, you're going to college maybe? Or... It's none of my business really. Sometimes I'm way too curious and ask too many questions. Seems like I never know when to stop talkin'. Just tell me, 'Shut up, Cat!' when you get tired of hearing me talk."

She shook her head quickly, brushing more sugar off her hands. "No, it's okay, really! I don't mind at all. It's been a while since I really got to know someone new." She smiled softly at him. "Yeah, I'm a freshman at the University of New Orleans. Art education major, which basically means I want to grow up to teach five-year-olds how to draw. Not much of a career, I know, but it's pretty much what I've always wanted to do."

[mystmoonstruck]

Easy "Cat" Tanner

Easy wasn't certain how long he was going to get away with almost-eating the beignet. A doughnut could be torn into smaller then tinier bits. This thing would spray powdered sugar at every touch, betraying any shredding attempted. This would take real plotting~or real eating. If he had to, he supposed he could be careful about the rest of the day though he knew his guardian wasn't about to let him skip meals. There had been some china-chattering moments when a fist would hit the tabletop in time with a bellowed, "EAT!" sometimes followed by an invective or two. Scrawny alleycat was one of the milder followups though Easy didn't feel that scrawny was quite right. He actually had gained a slight amount of weight after his long period of grief following Lilith's and Iah's departures. The deaths of two people in his life had left their mark, too, until he, for a time, had taken little care of himself. Then, his beloved voice teacher had left, and he had plunged into despair, feeling that the world he had found in Paris had shattered completely. He had tried to explain all of that to his guardian while pleading for the continuation of his freedom, failing in that battle to retain emancipation and finally ending up here, back in the States, not even in California. But, perhaps he could do something positive here in New Orleans, as long as he didn't have to eat regularly~or stay put too much~or too-regularly attend classes~or... He had to shrug off that line of thought and turn to matters at hand.

Thus, he had told the Chance story, to which Cassie had cheerfully responded, "I love cinnamon toast! I used to eat it all the time when I was a little kid." That made him laugh as he continued his tale, picturing the same thing happening to Cassie, as it had with the pastry. She didn't seem to mind the sweet shower that resulted from each approach, and he liked that casualness, wondering if Allegra would show the same carefree attitude and thinking that perhaps Lilith would have. A sudden vision of that first picnic came to mind, knifing his heart, causing him to wince in sudden pain before reaching for the smile once more, determined not to darken this meeting.

From his Chance story, he sequed to talk of schooling, guessing that she was in college then hurrying to apologize for being so snoopy. As he often did with others he had spent time with, he invited her to simply tell him to be quiet when she tired of the seemingly endless flow of words. He had to be honest with himself that very few people ever told him to shut up, at least not since he had arrived in Paris. On the trip back to the States, it had felt like old times, as, once more, he had been shushed frequently.

Cassie shook her head, the bright tresses shimmering, and she brushed sugar from her hands as she said, "No, it's okay, really! I don't mind at all. It's been a while since I really got to know someone new." The smile she gave him brought a flutter inside, at which he mentally scolded himself for being so open to her, someone he had just met. Again, he feared the danger his presence could bring to those he befriended and by whom he was befriended. Whichever way it occurred, it seemed that he brought pain and sorrow with him. His absent friend, Iah, had believed himself cursed, but Easy had told him that he himself might bear some sort of curse. After all, no one who became close to him remained close for long, and, far too often, his presence made them unhappy, driving them away.

"Yeah, I'm a freshman at the University of New Orleans," Cassie said. "Art education major, which basically means I want to grow up to teach five-year-olds how to draw." That brought a jerk of surprised laughter from him because he could see it in his mind: Cassie surrounded by a bunch of tykes, each with a crayon, trying to follow her lead. "Not much of a career, I know, but it's pretty much what I've always wanted to do."

"I guess you must have a ton of patience, thinkin'~um~ing about teaching little kids. Maybe that's why you're so patient with me. Been told I'm not very mature. Mr. Chancery~Chance~would say I'm not growed up. Jamil~Mr. Mehmet~his business partner... Well, Jamil doesn't like when Chance doesn't~um~talk proper. That's what Chance says: talk proper. Jamil always corrects him and me. Like, Jamil would have said that I should've stood up when our order was called, when you went, or I should've been the one to go. He's always going on about manners and etiquette, and..." He dropped the rest, slowly shaking his now-bowed head, the rueful smile betraying him. "Sorry. I told you I talk a lot, mostly about stuff nobody wants to hear." He looked up then, the golden-brown eyes trying to meet Cassie's blue gaze without glancing all about as he had a tendency to do. "College. I should ask about college. If I can't handle high school... Heck! I had a tough time with grade school! I'd never manage college! Even my handwriting is pretty bad~and not pretty like nice to look at. Why do people say that?" he wondered all of a sudden. "Doesn't seem like it should be used that way, but people do. Aaaaand... I'm doing it again! Sorry, Cassie. You'll think I'm this big dunce. I should just play violin and never talk, huh?" That was a twist on what he had said in the past, when his only worth seemed to be something far less admirable. Maybe he had progressed more than even he had gauged. "But, really, if you didn't like high school, do you like college? University sounds major scary!" he decided, widening his eyes in not quite-mock alarm. During this time, he had done more coffee-sipping than pinching and was dismayed to see that the pastry looked even larger than before. All right... Maybe that was his imagination. Still... The thing was so big that it could have fed two or three people, right? However, when he did look around, he realized that that was a miscalculation as fellow patrons were greedily, happily, blissfully devouring the treats. Living in New Orleans, was he going to be expected to have more of these enormous concoctions? He found himself wondering if he could claim an allergy to beignets, the notion producing a snort of laughter that he couldn't cover, a sound that seemed to come out of nowhere. "Sorry." It was automatic to apologize though he had tried to break himself of the habit.

[GGJ5]

Trent Fisher

The fact that Lilith didn't react much to his intrusion of her "space" really amused him... and made him wonder what she'd do if she actually didn't care. "Did you check out the music we have up there?" he asked casually.

She cocked her head at him as if to see if the question was serious, then rolled her eyes at him, "No, Trent. I just went on there for the pretty colors. Why would I go to a band's myspace to listen to their music, after all?"

Trent shrugged his shoulders. "Not like it hasn't been done before. Plus, the colors are pretty."

Lilith started munching on her donut in a cute little way-- okay, it was a bit more than cute, and Trent caught himself watching her a little too closely... "I like Erin. She's nice. Probably the more unique portion of your band right now, which is good. A great vocalist can save even a mediocre band."

That woke him up. "Mediocre? Ugh! You're killing me! Are you deaf, or just a Lil Wayne fan? If it's the second, I'm not really sure we can be friends anymore...." He shook his head sadly. "Two coffees for me, then..."

“It's true, it's true,” Lilith said, sounding too sickeningly giddy, “I just adore Lil Wayne. Now go away.” She turned from him, shooing him away, which basically meant she wanted him to stay longer.

"I'm hurt, Lilith. I thought we were friends here! I thought we had something!" he teased, a smile playing behind his facade.

Then she turned back, pursed her lips and added, “And by the way, your stage presence is annoying. I haven't seen a musician sway their head back and forth like that since Ray Charles.”

"And," Trent countered automatically, pointing an accusative finger her way. "Ray Charles is one of the best musicians of the 20th century with a blockbuster movie to boot, so I will take your attempted blow and place it in my reality as a compliment, because everyone knows Ray Charles owned."

[Elda Forever]

Lilith Eytinge

“It's true, it's true,” Lilith said, sounding too sickeningly giddy, “I just adore Lil Wayne. Now go away.” She turned from him, shooing him away playfully. Trent, though, didn't even budge.

"I'm hurt, Lilith. I thought we were friends here! I thought we had something!" he teased, a smile curving his expressive lips upward. Lilith sent him a look, with one eyebrow raised. She never knew what to think when guys mentioned the word 'friends'. It was such a confusing term when exchanged between the sexes. But no matter. The 'something' that they had didn't need clarification at this time.

She pursed her lips at him in feigned annoyance, when really it was just veiled perplexity. Lilith figured she would never fully understand Trent Fisher. “And by the way, your stage presence is annoying. I haven't seen a musician sway their head back and forth like that since Ray Charles.”

"And," Trent countered automatically, pointing an accusative finger her way. "Ray Charles is one of the best musicians of the 20th century with a blockbuster movie to boot, so I will take your attempted blow and place it in my reality as a compliment, because everyone knows Ray Charles owned."

Lilith thought about that for a moment, then let out a sigh, crossing her arms on her chest in defeat. “Fine, fine. My life was changed especially by his 'Let's Go Get Stoned'.” She smirked at him, then leaned across the table towards him, her eyes sparkling wildly, “And I have a question for you...” There was a long pause, while she gazed into his face without blinking, then she chuckled, “Did you really get punched out by Erin's ex-boyfriend at a party?” She laughed at that, sitting back, "The story's been going around that you and Erin are an item."

[The Phantom of Paris]

Cassandra "Cassie" Wright

Seems like I never know when to stop talkin'. Just tell me, 'Shut up, Cat!' when you get tired of hearing me talk."

Cassie gave a quick shake of her head, sending more sugar flying off her hands as she protested. "No, it's okay, really! I don't mind at all. It's been a while since I really got to know someone new."

And it had--Cassie had settled into a small but eclectic group of friends at school and had gotten to know some of her other classmates at least moderately well. This far into the second semester of freshman year, things had started to fall into a little bit more of a rhythm, the strangeness of college becoming almost normal now. "Yeah, I'm a freshman at the University of New Orleans. Art education major, which basically means I want to grow up to teach five-year-olds how to draw." He laughed at this, and Cassie blushed, immediately thinking he was dismissing her chosen path like her mother used to do. "Not much of a career, I know," she amended, taking another sugary bite of her pastry to distract herself, "but it's pretty much what I've always wanted to do."

Cat surprised her, though, by saying, "I guess you must have a ton of patience, thinkin'~um~ing about teaching little kids." Cassie gave a chuckle and a shrug at that, still trying to not be hurt by his earlier words. "Um...I guess so? I wouldn't say I have more patience than other people, really. I've just always been sort of a mother-hen type, you know? And I love art more than anything, so...art teacher just seemed to fit."

"Maybe that's why you're so patient with me. Been told I'm not very mature. Mr. Chancery~Chance~would say I'm not growed up. Jamil~Mr. Mehmet~his business partner... Well, Jamil doesn't like when Chance doesn't~um~talk proper. That's what Chance says: talk proper. Jamil always corrects him and me. Like, Jamil would have said that I should've stood up when our order was called, when you went, or I should've been the one to go. He's always going on about manners and etiquette, and..." His voice trailed off, leaving Cassie to look at him curiously. "Sorry. I told you I talk a lot, mostly about stuff nobody wants to hear."

"No, really, it's fine. I talk a lot too, sometimes...and I totally get the whole correcting people for the way they talk thing. My mother used to do the same thing, actually. She's from a really...well, old-fashioned family, I guess, and she hates informal speech and stuff. She hates nicknames so much that she's never called me Cassie in my entire life, pretty much. To her I'll always be Cassandra." She wrinkled her nose a bit. "And because of some weird family tradition or something, my full name is ridiculously long...she gave all of us three kids two middle names instead of one. It's really embarrassing, actually, my full name. It's just...impossibly long."

Cat met her eyes then, once again seeming nervous. "College," he said, changing the subject for probably the millionth time. You weren't kidding about the inability to focus...he reminds me a lot of Erin, actually! That's kind of awesome. "I should ask about college. If I can't handle high school... Heck! I had a tough time with grade school! I'd never manage college! Even my handwriting is pretty bad~and not pretty like nice to look at. Why do people say that? Doesn't seem like it should be used that way, but people do. Aaaaand... I'm doing it again! Sorry, Cassie. You'll think I'm this big dunce. I should just play violin and never talk, huh? But, really, if you didn't like high school, do you like college? University sounds major scary!" His gaze dropped to the beignet, looking at it as if finishing it was going to be a chore. Cassie chuckled again. "Sorry."

She giggled a little more loudly now. "You really don't like the beignet, do you? It's okay if you don't. I'm not, like, going to send you to your room or something if you don't clean your plate." She shook her head, taking another sip of coffee. "But yeah, I was really freaked out about college at first, because it's so different. But the work isn't all that much harder than in high school, and once I found my--is 'niche' the right word?--once I found a group of people to hang out with it was all pretty fun. And I have an awesome roommate, so I think that helps a lot. So I wouldn't say not to be nervous, but it's definitely not as scary as it seems."

[mystmoonstruck]

Easy "Cat" Tanner

At his (usual) invitation to be shushed when he became too much to bear, Cassie shook her head, causing her coppery tresses to shimmer in such a dazzling way that he never noticed the sprinkling of sugar. His look was openly admiring, and he scarcely was aware of how he was comparing and contrasting Cassie and Allegra. The longer he was in her company, the more differences he detected, and he felt that he could like her on her own merits, not because she reminded him of someone who had been kind to him, cared about him and even loved him.

"No, it's okay, really!" Cassie assured him. "I don't mind at all. It's been a while since I really got to know someone new."

That was encouraging, and he thought again how New Orleans might be a fresh start of sorts. In the back of his mind, there was the pestering concern of how long he would stay here before Rafe Chancery would take him somewhere else, making him wonder if his bargain with the man had been such a wise choice.

But, he was determined that he would not let such worries disturb him, at least not now as he listened to Cassie speak about the university and her plans. He hadn't meant to laugh, and he felt guilty when she blushed, fearing that she thought he was making fun of her. Such a thing was extremely rare for him to do since he had been the target so many times throughout his life. Would she be angry with him? He expressed his admiration of what must be her patience, as he could guess how demanding and exasperating children could be~not that he had that much experience with little ones.

"Um...I guess so? I wouldn't say I have more patience than other people, really. I've just always been sort of a mother-hen type, you know? And I love art more than anything, so...art teacher just seemed to fit." He nodded his understanding and pointed out that she definitely had been patient with him. Then, he had said too much about the two men who ruled his life once more and knew that he need to be far more careful about what he said so that the dangerous truth did not seep out.

"No, really, it's fine," Cassie insisted. "I talk a lot too, sometimes...and I totally get the whole correcting people for the way they talk thing. My mother used to do the same thing, actually. She's from a really...well, old-fashioned family, I guess, and she hates informal speech and stuff. She hates nicknames so much that she's never called me Cassie in my entire life, pretty much. To her I'll always be Cassandra." Easy was surprised when she wrinkled her nose because he thought that the other name was beautiful and vaguely familiar, as if he had read or heard it somewhere. "And because of some weird family tradition or something, my full name is ridiculously long...she gave all of us three kids two middle names instead of one. It's really embarrassing, actually, my full name. It's just...impossibly long."

"That's not so bad," he said, "'cause~well~me... I got a first name and a last name and some nicknames. Phaedra~my mom~sort of messed up my name. Most people laugh when they hear it 'cause it's~um~different. That's why I usually tell 'em Cat. My real name is Easy."

Somewhere along the way, Cassie caught on to his hesitant eating but came up with a great excuse for him: "You really don't like the beignet, do you?" Smiling crookedly, hands clasped on his lap, he shrugged, lifting then dropping both shoulders, acknowledging that he had been caught but not for that reason. "It's okay if you don't. I'm not, like, going to send you to your room or something if you don't clean your plate."

"Thanks. I mean that. I don't handle rich food very good. I mean, it tastes good, but they're awfully big. Maybe they need beginner beignet for newbies," he suggested, laughing at his silliness.

As for his concern about post-high school education: "But yeah, I was really freaked out about college at first, because it's so different," she admitted, "But the work isn't all that much harder than in high school, and once I found my--is 'niche' the right word?--once I found a group of people to hang out with it was all pretty fun. And I have an awesome roommate, so I think that helps a lot. So I wouldn't say not to be nervous, but it's definitely not as scary as it seems."

"Never had that much~people to hang with. Mostly it was all the moving around. I guess I'll be lucky if they ever let me out of high school, let alone into college. I'm OK with music I guess. I learned violin really fast. But, then, I had this teacher who's supposed to be~like~one of the best around, Anton Arkady. I think he understood how I need to learn. He even loosened up enough that he taught me songs from~like~Russia and places like that after he found out I'd learned music from my friend Iah Raksha's record collection~gypsy songs and music from~um~Egypt and places like that. Iah was orphaned when he was real young and started traveling with gypsies. I really miss him and..." Again, he stopped himself, giving his head a fierce shake, as if he could physically banish the painful memories. "That was in Paris," he added quietly, venturing another pinch of beignet even though he'd been given permission to not eat it. At least this would look like he might want to. "I'm still gettin' used to being back in the States. Meeting you today really helped, Cassie." He hesitated then went on. "I think Cassandra is really pretty. I think I heard of it before, but I can't remember where. Cassie sort of reminds me of a girl Chance talks about, Callie, back in the town he came from. I guess they had floods and storms, too, and Chance decided he should come here and~um~pour money into the city, buyin' property, fixin' stuff, maybe open businesses. Mr. Mehmet, too. His family's like mega-wealthy, and they're in all sorts of businesses." There. All of that was rather safe information. If he was careful... "I hope we'll be around here for a while, but Chance mainly stays in California, where I come from. It'd be nice to get to know a place and~and some people here." He could hear the wistfulness in his voice and hoped he didn't sound too needy.

[The Phantom of Paris]

Cassandra "Cassie" Wright

My mother used to do the same thing, actually," Cassie told him. "She's from a really...well, old-fashioned family, I guess, and she hates informal speech and stuff. She hates nicknames so much that she's never called me Cassie in my entire life, pretty much. To her I'll always be Cassandra. And because of some weird family tradition or something, my full name is ridiculously long...she gave all of us three kids two middle names instead of one. It's really embarrassing, actually, my full name. It's just...impossibly long."

"That's not so bad," Cat replied. "'Cause~well~me... I got a first name and a last name and some nicknames. Phaedra~my mom~sort of messed up my name. Most people laugh when they hear it 'cause it's~um~different. That's why I usually tell 'em Cat. My real name is Easy."

Cassie, in the midst of taking a drink of coffee, choked at his words, clapping one hand over her mouth to stop the hot beverage from spilling all over the table and adding to her embarrassment. "Sorry!" she spluttered, coughing a little from inhaling the sip of the drink she'd been about to take. "Sorry! I'm not trying to make fun of you, I just...that is really different, isn't it? I thought mine was bad...not that yours is, but..." she trailed off, blushing again. "Sorry. It's a unique name, and those are good. Mine's pretty mainstream but it's just so long...Cassandra Emily Jane is the whole thing. It's jut a bit much, and they're all such common names. But yours is really unusual...and you said your mom's name is Phaedra, right? That's really cool too." In an attempt to not insult him more than she already had, Cassie's gaze fell to the still-unfinished beignet on Cat's plate. "You really don't like the beignet, do you?" she asked, a playful accusation. He gave a shrug. "It's okay if you don't," Cassie assured him with a grin. "I'm not, like, going to send you to your room or something if you don't clean your plate."

He looked greatly relieved at this, which amused Cassie even more. "Thanks. I mean that. I don't handle rich food very good. I mean, it tastes good, but they're awfully big. Maybe they need beginner beignet for newbies."

Cassie chuckled. "Baby beignets?"

The conversation veered back to high school and college, and Cassie tried her best to reassure him that it was all right to be afraid of the future. He really seems nervous. I think this goes beyond being shy...it's like he's afraid of me, but not at the same time. More like maybe he's afraid of things that are new or different. I used to be like that... She did her best, but still felt like the speech was going off into a Hallmark-movie tangent, finally ending it with, "So I wouldn't say not to be nervous, but it's definitely not as scary as it seems."


"Never had that much~people to hang with. Mostly it was all the moving around. I guess I'll be lucky if they ever let me out of high school, let alone into college. I'm OK with music I guess. I learned violin really fast. But, then, I had this teacher who's supposed to be~like~one of the best around, Anton Arkady. I think he understood how I need to learn. He even loosened up enough that he taught me songs from~like~Russia and places like that after he found out I'd learned music from my friend Iah Raksha's record collection~gypsy songs and music from~um~Egypt and places like that. Iah was orphaned when he was real young and started traveling with gypsies. I really miss him and..." Cat shook his head while Cassie listened, enthralled by the unfamiliar experiences and exotic names that seemed to roll of Cat's tongue as easily as someone else might say 'Oh, I went to Wal-Mart to run some errands on Saturday.' Cassie considered her own life to be rather enriched as far as unforgettable experiences went, but so far everything Cat had told her had blown her past completely out of the water--and she got the feeling that he hadn't even scratched the surface of the stories he had to tell.

"That was in Paris. I'm still gettin' used to being back in the States. Meeting you today really helped, Cassie."

Cassie's face lit up at the simple words. "I'm glad," she said sincerely. "I'm really happy to have met you too."

"I think Cassandra is really pretty. I think I heard of it before, but I can't remember where. Cassie sort of reminds me of a girl Chance talks about, Callie, back in the town he came from."

Before she could stop herself, Cassie found herself blushing again. "Well, thanks," she said quietly. "You can call me that if you want to, I guess. It's not really the name itself that I don't like, but the fact that it's what my mom calls me. We've never been close...at all...so yeah. Most people just call me Cassie because it's easier, but my best friend's fiance calls me Cass sometimes, and my roommate randomly started calling me 'Cassie-Andra', which I find hilarious. I've got a bunch of other nicknames too, really, but most are silly. Like at summer camp when I was younger, a bunch of girls started calling me Ariel, like in The Little Mermaid, because I've got red hair and I'm a really good swimmer."

"I guess they had floods and storms, too, and Chance decided he should come here and~um~pour money into the city, buyin' property, fixin' stuff, maybe open businesses. Mr. Mehmet, too. His family's like mega-wealthy, and they're in all sorts of businesses. I hope we'll be around here for a while, but Chance mainly stays in California, where I come from. It'd be nice to get to know a place and~and some people here."

She nodded. "I'll bet. Before I started college and moved into my new place, I'd never moved before, actually, unless you count when I stayed at my dad's house on weekends. I've literally stayed in the same place for my entire life, except for, like, vacations. The way you live actually sounds a lot more interesting, and what you say those guys are doing for the city...that's great. Hurricane Katrina was five years ago, but some things still haven't changed much since then...it's really great that they care enough to do that."

She paused, an idea striking her. "Hey," she said quietly. "Some friends of mine are going to this Mardi Gras party soon. It's a masquerade kind of thing, with masks and costumes and stuff. I could give you the address and you could come if you wanted...It would be a great way to meet new people, if you wanted to."

[mystmoonstruck]

Easy "Cat" Tanner

His time in Paris had spoiled Easy because so many had taken his name in stride. So, he was rather alarmed when Cassie, in mid-sip, began choking, needing to cover her mouth, a movement he was familiar with though he generally was keeping words from spilling out.

"Sorry!" she spluttered, obviously embarrassed by her reaction. "Sorry! I'm not trying to make fun of you, I just...that is really different, isn't it?" He nodded, smiling politely as if it didn't matter. "I thought mine was bad...not that yours is, but..." At that, she began blushing again, and he gave a left-shoulder shrug as his smile dropped into its frequent offkilter mode. "Sorry. It's a unique name, and those are good. Mine's pretty mainstream but it's just so long. Cassandra Emily Jane is the whole thing. It's just a bit much, and they're all such common names. But yours is really unusual...and you said your mom's name is Phaedra, right? That's really cool too."

"I like your name," he told her. "Actually, I like all of them. Emily is pretty, but Cassandra is maybe prettier. I guess I can call you Cassie," he decided. "Back when I was younger and sort of smartalecky, I used to make up nicknames for people~not mean or anything. Like, Allegra was Legs, mainly because she had long legs and was a dancer. Real clever, huh? Sometimes I did it to bug somebody who gave me a hard time but only when I knew I could run away if he got mad." Bowing his head as he laughed softly, memories of his time on the streets came flooding back, filling him with a longing so strong that he swore the night streets of New Orleans were begging him to come to them. Maybe tonight...

"Isn't it kinda strange that so many people don't like their names, even when they're nice ones? Lots of people I've met don't like their names. Maybe that's~well~normal. I mean, you gotta admit that Easy sounds like a joke or maybe even a streetname. People take it in different ways." The last few words had faded, and he was silent for a moment, finally snapping out of that particular train of thought by saying, "Phaedra... Yeah. She's~like~maybe Greek I think. I mean, she's American, but~you know." His voice caught, and he bit at his lower lip before he continued speaking again. "My dad's name is Strephon but people call him Strat. You'd think they could've come up with a better name for me, huh?" He decided not to go into the reason for his unusual name. He'd said more than he should have, but some things he knew to shut up about. Such silences were handily filled with sips of coffee now that he didn't have to worry about the beignet. "Mostly, I get nicknames: Cat and~um~Alleycat. My voice teacher, Monsieur Moreau, called me~um~le petit bete. I think that's it~something like the little beast." Then came the rueful grin, his eyes glittering as he remembered the teacher who had exited his life as abruptly as he had entered. "That was sort of nice from him 'cause he yelled and growled a lot. I never thought I'd be a singer till... That's a long story," he decided, thinking of explaining Iah, the tent in the park, and Lazare as his unexpected, very critical audience of one.

Easy was relieved that he hadn't been pressured about food, and she had even made a joke following up on his suggestion for smaller beignets that might not seem so discouraging. Then, they were talking about schools, which was another uncomfortable subject for him, but Cassie seemed understanding there, too, obviously trying to put him at ease. He had ended up by responding with simply too much about himself, and he feared that he had sounded boastful, which wasn't like him unless he was "copping an attitude". On the streets, he had been ready with the bragging, the boastfulness, the outright cockiness. He didn't want to be that person with Cassie. But, throughout all of it, she never once had that look, that eyes-glazing-over, I'm-so-bored look.

At his compliment, she seemed to glow, making him happy that he had said it. "I'm glad," she said. "I'm really happy to have met you too." Easy found himself blushing along with the girl this time. Then, he had been invited to call her what he wanted, and he decided that perhaps he should stay with Cassie. At that thought, he was startled to realize that he expected to encounter her again, perhaps as a friend. Mentally, he tested out the variations in her name, but he had to giggle at Cassie-Andra. Then, she mentioned a name he was somewhat familiar with, having once been coaxed into watching The Little Mermaid during Lilith's attempts to educate him about movies.

"I can't swim," Easy confessed. "Looks hard, but a lot of people do it, so maybe it isn't. Anyway, I~I don't think I'd want to be that~well~bare in front of everybody." He was blushing again, thinking how strange it was that, with all of the things he had seen and done, he could still feel embarrassment and had his moments of modesty. "Besides, there are sharks in the oceans, so that rules them out." he tried to make it a joke, but he truly was unnerved by denizens of the sea which he had seen in documentaries. "At pools..." He gave his head a shake, his tresses going into further disarray. "All those people maybe lookin' at you." Somehow, his chatter had wandered to the reason he had come to New Orleans~rather, been brought there.

In contrast, he was told, "Before I started college and moved into my new place, I'd never moved before, actually, unless you count when I stayed at my dad's house on weekends. I've literally stayed in the same place for my entire life, except for, like, vacations. The way you live actually sounds a lot more interesting, and what you say those guys are doing for the city...that's great. Hurricane Katrina was five years ago, but some things still haven't changed much since then...it's really great that they care enough to do that."

"To me, stayin' in one place always seemed like it'd be great. Maybe I'd like school more if I hadn't been in and out all the time. Maybe..." Again, he shook his head, averting his gaze to the plate, beginning to toy with it, having managed not to fidget till he began letting things slip. "No. Better not start thinkin' about it," he said quietly, not looking at her now. "There's a real sad poem. Part of it goes For all sad words of tongue and pen, The saddest are these, "It might have been". It's from a poem called Maud Muller, about this girl meeting this guy but they don't get together." He looked up then, the rueful smile back. "Well, it's better than I make it sound. Does that sound dumb, to admit I know some old poetry? Prob'ly," he decided, once more looking away, only to be drawn back by a softly spoken Hey from Cassie.

"Some friends of mine are going to this Mardi Gras party soon," she informed him, and he nodded politely. "It's a masquerade kind of thing, with masks and costumes and stuff. I could give you the address and you could come if you wanted...It would be a great way to meet new people, if you wanted to."

The golden-brown eyes widened, and he sat up a bit straighter, his spirit very obviously brightening. "Party?! A masquerade?! Sure! I went to 'em at Opera Populaire and..." The brightness faded slightly. Would he find himself in another disastrous situation? Perhaps it would be different here in New Orleans. The only person he would know would be Cassie, which was both a perk and a problem. Cassie might not have time for him, and he could picture himself as a wallflower, trying to shrink into a shadowed corner, wishing he was back home~no~back in Paris. "Y-you'll be there with lots of friends?" he tested. "I wouldn't want to bother you. I mean, I wouldn't know anybody there. I do have a couple of costumes." He remembered packing them along with all of his other belongings, realizing what a meager wardrobe he still had. "Is there a theme or rules? The ones in Paris had rules, but people did break them. Ummm... What kind of party? You said Marty somethin'?"

[The Phantom of Paris]

Cassandra "Cassie" Wright

"You can call me that if you want to, I guess," she said after Cat mentioned how much he liked the name Cassandra. "It's not really the name itself that I don't like, but the fact that it's what my mom calls me. We've never been close...at all...so yeah. Most people just call me Cassie because it's easier, but my best friend's fiance calls me Cass sometimes, and my roommate randomly started calling me 'Cassie-Andra', which I find hilarious. I've got a bunch of other nicknames too, really, but most are silly. Like at summer camp when I was younger, a bunch of girls started calling me Ariel, like in The Little Mermaid, because I've got red hair and I'm a really good swimmer." She gave a little shrug, finishing the last of her cafe au lait.

"I can't swim," Cat--she still couldn't bring herself to call him Easy--admitted, looking embarrassed. "Looks hard, but a lot of people do it, so maybe it isn't."

"I don't think it is," Cassie admitted, "but then again, I've been doing it forever. Practically since I could walk...see, my mother's family has this house up north, in Michigan, right on the lake. We used to go there every summer, so that's where I learned. And we've got a pool, too, at her house. So I've just sort of grown up in and around water...it's like as easy as walking to me. But I can see where people would be a little scared of it or something...it is pretty unpredictable. But I'd say that there are a lot more dangerous things that someone could be doing."

"Anyway, I~I don't think I'd want to be that~well~bare in front of everybody. Besides, there are sharks in the oceans, so that rules them out. At pools...All those people maybe lookin' at you."

Cassie raised her eyebrows, looking at him in surprise. It wasn't an irrational fear by any means, but not one that she had expected a guy to readily admit to. You seemed so confident when you were playing... "Well, I can see why that can be intimidating," she agreed. "But from what I've seen, people usually don't look at you, because they're all secretly afraid that someone is looking at them.

They talked about how he had ended up in New Orleans, of all places, with Cat admitting that the men he kept mentioning--his guardians, most likely, if he'd been brought along too--were helping bring the city back from the still-fresh memories of Katrina. Cassie gazed upon Cat with newfound admiration as she told him of her relatively sheltered life... "Before I started college and moved into my new place, I'd never moved before, actually, unless you count when I stayed at my dad's house on weekends. I've literally stayed in the same place for my entire life, except for, like, vacations. The way you live actually sounds a lot more interesting, and what you say those guys are doing for the city...that's great. Hurricane Katrina was five years ago, but some things still haven't changed much since then...it's really great that they care enough to do that."

"To me, stayin' in one place always seemed like it'd be great. Maybe I'd like school more if I hadn't been in and out all the time. Maybe..."

"I found it pretty boring, but I guess it's a 'the grass is always greener' sort of thing, isn't it?" Cassie replied.

He looked pained again, and Cassie wondered if she'd said something wrong. "No. Better not start thinkin' about it...There's a real sad poem. Part of it goes For all sad words of tongue and pen, The saddest are these, "It might have been". It's from a poem called Maud Muller, about this girl meeting this guy but they don't get together." He smiled ruefully. "Well, it's better than I make it sound. Does that sound dumb, to admit I know some old poetry? Prob'ly."

"No, it doesn't," Cassie insisted. "It sounds really cool. I'm not very into poetry, or reading, unless it's out loud, and that was really pretty..."

She trailed off, looking at him thoughtfully. There was so much hidden beneath the surface, so many questions she couldn't ask, too much to learn in one afternoon. She wanted to help her mysterious musician, the boy who had given her back her inspiration. She wanted to learn more about him, to be his friend, because he really seemed like he needed someone. She wanted to see him again...but how?

"Hey," she began, the idea coming to her almost at once.
"Some friends of mine are going to this Mardi Gras party soon. It's a masquerade kind of thing, with masks and costumes and stuff. I could give you the address and you could come if you wanted...It would be a great way to meet new people, if you wanted to."

This seemed to intrigue him--he sat up straighter, reminding Cassie of a real-life cat that had just spotted some potential prey. "Party?! A masquerade?!" Cassie gave an eager nod, her own eyes brightening at his reaction. "Sure! I went to 'em at Opera Populaire and..."

"You've been to the Opera Populaire?" Cassie asked, her mouth falling open. "Like in The Phantom of the Opera, right? Oh my gosh! I always wanted to go every time we were in Paris, and we did end up going once, but I don't remember much of it, and that was before I knew the story behind it! I love the Broadway musical version, have you heard it? Or read the book? I haven't, but I've heard it's good. Actually," she said, looking down and blushing a bit. "You remember when I mentioned my sister Shelby? She did this project for school where she had to direct and film her own movie adaptation of a musical, and she picked Phantom of the Opera. I was Meg."

"Y-you'll be there with lots of friends?" Cat asked, now sounding unsure. "I wouldn't want to bother you. I mean, I wouldn't know anybody there. I do have a couple of costumes.Is there a theme or rules? The ones in Paris had rules, but people did break them. Ummm... What kind of party? You said Marty somethin'?"

"Mardi Gras," said Cassie. "It's kind of a big deal down here. Mardi Gras itself is a huge carnival-style celebration that we have before Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent. It means 'Fat Tuesday' in French, actually, and there's parades and masks and floats and tons of partying and drinking...schools get a Mardi Gras break, so they get a couple of days off, and everybody enjoys it somehow. You might have heard of Mardi Gras beads, those plastic necklaces in gold and green and purple? That's where they come from. It's just a huge celebration. But this party really doesn't have anything to do with the real Mardi Gras, I guess, because it's kind of fancy--it's a debutante ball, basically. But don't worry, it won't be scary at all or anything. My friends will be there, I'm pretty sure, but only a few of them since my best friend is sick and can't go, and Shelby and her boyfriend aren't going...it won't be as intimidating as you think. Avoid the snooty society ladies and you should be fine," she added with a laugh. "I don't think there's any real dress code except for somewhat nice clothes and a mask...please promise me you'll at least try to come, Cat. I'd love to see you there, and I think you'd have fun if you went."

[mystmoonstruck]

Easy "Cat" Tanner

Easy was instantly excited to hear about the masquerade though the misgivings always followed as he recalled his experiences at previous events. Still, this could be fun, even if for a short while. He hadn't expected Cassie's response though.

"You've been to the Opera Populaire?" Easy had to giggle at her open-mouth awe, and he nodded vigorously, a pleased-kitten smile on his lips, the corners curved upward. "Like in The Phantom of the Opera, right?" That set off more giggles and more nods. "Oh my gosh! I always wanted to go every time we were in Paris, and we did end up going once, but I don't remember much of it, and that was before I knew the story behind it! I love the Broadway musical version, have you heard it?" Again he nodded. "Or read the book?" That netted the first negative shake. He had tried to read the novel, even "spot read" it, but he had yet to be caught up in it. The movies were a whole other thing of course, as he needed only to sit there and watch. "I haven't," she admitted, and he wondered if she meant reading the book. "But I've heard it's good. Actually..." She paused, bowing her head, and he recognized the movement as something he did when he was nervous or felt awkward. "You remember when I mentioned my sister Shelby?" He said a quiet, "Yeah," as she wasn't looking at him. "She did this project for school where she had to direct and film her own movie adaptation of a musical, and she picked Phantom of the Opera. I was Meg."

"I remember Meg," he realized, "from the musical, the girl who's Christine's friend." It actually felt very good to chime in with something he knew about since most people's references left him blank, realizing what a world of things he did not know and probably couldn't learn. He was on the verge of explaining how well he knew Opera Populaire, how intimately actually, when he suddenly felt unsure about the party, picturing himself alone. Also, there were rules to know. Then, there was the question of what the heck she had said the name was~Marty something to his unready ear.

"Mardi Gras," said Cassie though it still made no sense to him. "It's kind of a big deal down here. Mardi Gras itself is a huge carnival-style celebration that we have before Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent." OK. That just led to more questions! Ash Wednesday? Lent? "It means 'Fat Tuesday' in French, actually, and there's parades and masks and floats and tons of partying and drinking...schools get a Mardi Gras break, so they get a couple of days off, and everybody enjoys it somehow. You might have heard of Mardi Gras beads, those plastic necklaces in gold and green and purple? That's where they come from. It's just a huge celebration. But this party really doesn't have anything to do with the real Mardi Gras, I guess, because it's kind of fancy--it's a debutante ball, basically." Debutante? This was growing increasingly confusing! "But don't worry, it won't be scary at all or anything. My friends will be there, I'm pretty sure, but only a few of them since my best friend is sick and can't go, and Shelby and her boyfriend aren't going...it won't be as intimidating as you think. Avoid the snooty society ladies and you should be fine." She laughed at her remark, but he could manage only a feeble smile. Society ladies?! "I don't think there's any real dress code except for somewhat nice clothes and a mask...please promise me you'll at least try to come, Cat. I'd love to see you there, and I think you'd have fun if you went."

"Ummm... Well... It sounds a little scary," he admitted. "I don't know what most of that stuff means, like the Wednesday thing and Lent? Like lent money?" he wondered. "And, deb~debu... That long word. I know, I sound really, really dumb, and I guess I am," he confessed. "After talkin' about the Louvre and the opera house, you prob'ly thought I had some brains." He laughed, but it was a broken sound lacking any humor. Reaching for the cup, he took several sips, looking thoughtful, finally setting it down and looking at Cassie. "OK. I'll do it. I'll come to the masquerade, and I hope I can find you there, even if for a little while. I mean, you have friends. You don't have to hang out with me, OK? But, I don't know anybody else, so is it OK if I leave early? I mean... Things tend to go wrong for me when I try goin' to parties. Most of the time, I mess up. I went to several of them at Opera Populaire. I was around there at first because Mr. Mehmet wanted to invest, become a patron, and he wanted Chance~Mr. Chancery to do it, too. Again with the lookin' respectable thing." He laughed, a sharp sound, smirking as he did so, thinking how far away the two men were from being the average good citizen. "Anyway, I ended up stayin' in Paris, and stuff kept happenin' until~well~I finally ended up bein' part of the opera house for real, not just a guy takin' classes. I~I was in the orchestra," he stated quietly, bowing his head to hide the blush. "That's why it was tough bein' dragged away. I had a great place to live~named it Sanctuary~and, for a while, had a couple of roommates. Not sure why they did it~revoked the emancipation. I~I was free for a while, had a real place of my own. Now..." Sighing, he gathered his strength and focused on his new acquaintance, trying to think ahead to the party she described. "Never mind," he told her. "It's just me bein' sorta down. Happens sometimes."

[The Phantom of Paris]

Cassandra "Cassie" Wright

"Mardi Gras," Cassie explained, trying to hide her amusement. Sure, being ignorant of Louisiana customs and traditions like beignets was understandable, but she'd never met a single person who'd never heard of Mardi Gras! "It's kind of a big deal down here. Mardi Gras itself is a huge carnival-style celebration that we have before Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent. It means 'Fat Tuesday' in French, actually, and there's parades and masks and floats and tons of partying and drinking...schools get a Mardi Gras break, so they get a couple of days off, and everybody enjoys it somehow. You might have heard of Mardi Gras beads, those plastic necklaces in gold and green and purple? That's where they come from. It's just a huge celebration. But this party really doesn't have anything to do with the real Mardi Gras, I guess, because it's kind of fancy--it's a debutante ball, basically. But don't worry, it won't be scary at all or anything. My friends will be there, I'm pretty sure, but only a few of them since my best friend is sick and can't go, and Shelby and her boyfriend aren't going...it won't be as intimidating as you think. Avoid the snooty society ladies and you should be fine." Cassie gave a laugh, but Cat looked overwhelmed again. "I don't think there's any real dress code except for somewhat nice clothes and a mask...please promise me you'll at least try to come, Cat. I'd love to see you there, and I think you'd have fun if you went."

"Ummm... Well... It sounds a little scary..."

Cassie shook her head quickly. "No, it's not, I promise."

"I don't know what most of that stuff means, like the Wednesday thing and Lent? Like lent money? And, deb~debu... That long word. I know, I sound really, really dumb, and I guess I am...After talkin' about the Louvre and the opera house, you prob'ly thought I had some brains."

"You do have brains," Cassie said softly, giggling a bit. "And even if you didn't, that's okay. My favorite character in The Wizard of Oz was always the Scarecrow anyway." She laughed again, meeting Cat's eyes reassuringly. "Ash Wednesday and Lent are religious things. In the Catholic religion, mainly. At least, I think so. I'm Catholic, but I don't know what other denominations do...Lent is what we call the forty days leading up to Easter, and Ash Wednesday is the official start of Lent. Usually we have a big church service and we burn the palm leaves we got on Palm Sunday, and the ashes get smudged on our foreheads." She looked down again. "Okay, well, I'll admit that sounds scary. But it's really not. Anyway, a lot of people give something up for the forty days Lent, to remind them of how Jesus suffered before he died or something. So in a way, Mardi Gras--the day before Ash Wednesday--is a huge celebration before people start being really serious for Lent. But you don't have to give anything up--I haven't in years, actually. It's too hard. I gave up ice cream one year, it was torture!"

She shook her head. "And Mardi Gras itself--the parades and parties and everything--it doesn't even have to be a religious thing, necessarily. To a lot of people, it's just a fun celebration we have every year. And a debutante...another name for a debutante ball is a 'coming-out party.' It's when a young girl--usually 18 or around there, like a senior in high school--gets presented to the social world, officially. It used to be a much bigger think, like, a hundred years ago, because it was when a girl was presented to society so she could start looking for a husband, but it's different now. Now it's just a ceremony, and there's usually a charity that sponsors the debutante balls, so people can donate money when they're there that will go to a good cause, but they don't have to. It's a little confusing, I guess, but...mostly it's just fun. A chance to get all dressed up and go to a big party."

Cat laughed then, and Cassie smiled at his reaction. "OK," he said after taking a few sips of his cafe au lait. "I'll do it. I'll come to the masquerade, and I hope I can find you there, even if for a little while."

Cassie's face lit up. "I'm glad!" she cried. "I'll make sure to look for you there. I'll be wearing a mask, but..." she played with the edges of her blue striped scarf, smiling at him, "with my hair, I think I'll be pretty easy to recognize."

"I mean, you have friends. You don't have to hang out with me, OK? But, I don't know anybody else, so is it OK if I leave early?"

"Well, of course. Why wouldn't it?"

"I mean... Things tend to go wrong for me when I try goin' to parties. Most of the time, I mess up. I went to several of them at Opera Populaire. I was around there at first because Mr. Mehmet wanted to invest, become a patron, and he wanted Chance~Mr. Chancery to do it, too. Again with the lookin' respectable thing. Anyway, I ended up stayin' in Paris, and stuff kept happenin' until~well~I finally ended up bein' part of the opera house for real, not just a guy takin' classes. I~I was in the orchestra," he stated quietly, bowing his head to hide the blush.

"Oh, wow..." Cassie whispered. "That must have been amazing. I'll bet you were the best one there, too, after the way you just played in the Square."

"That's why it was tough bein' dragged away. I had a great place to live~named it Sanctuary~and, for a while, had a couple of roommates. Not sure why they did it~revoked the emancipation. I~I was free for a while, had a real place of my own. Now...Never mind...It's just me bein' sorta down. Happens sometimes."

On impulse, Cassie reached across the table and took hold of his hand, once again meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean to make you talk about things like that. For what it's worth, I'm awful at parties too. You don't even want to know what happened at the last real birthday party I had...it was a disaster. An absolute disaster. And I can't even imagine how it must have felt to have to come back after you had all that freedom, all those amazing experiences in Paris...I just can't imagine it. I don't think you deserved that, Cat. Not at all. From what I've seen, you deserve more freedom than the world can maybe give you...just going from how you played, how you acted in the Square, how you're talking to me now. I'm sorry."

[GGJ5]

Trent Fisher

“It's true, it's true, I just adore Lil Wayne. Now go away.” She turned from him, shooing him away playfully. So he didn't move.

"I'm hurt, Lilith. I thought we were friends here! I thought we had something!" he teased, a smile curving his lips upward.

Lilith sent him a look, with one eyebrow raised. Which in turn widened his smile. She waited a beat, then attempted to dash his smile with a frank, “And by the way, your stage presence is annoying. I haven't seen a musician sway their head back and forth like that since Ray Charles.”

"And," Trent countered automatically, pointing an accusative finger her way. "Ray Charles is one of the best musicians of the 20th century with a blockbuster movie to boot, so I will take your attempted blow and place it in my reality as a compliment, because everyone knows Ray Charles owned."

Lilith paused, seeming to realize her defeat, and sighed. “Fine, fine. My life was changed especially by his 'Let's Go Get Stoned'.”

She smirked at him, and Trent shrugged. "Don't worry. I'll still be your friend even if you do have a drug problem, Lilith."

“And I have a question for you...” There was another long pause, and Lilith gave a little laugh. Trent raised his eyebrows. “Did you really get punched out by Erin's ex-boyfriend at a party?” She laughed at that, sitting back, and ignoring the surprised look on Trent's face. He could feel the phantom throbbing in his nose. "The story's been going around that you and Erin are an item."

"Were," Trent corrected immediately. "Definitely past tense. I'm not a big fan of the itemizing. And I think he's an ex-ex, now, since he's playing bass for us now." Trent was answering about as matter-of-fact as he could but inside he was working hard on not biting his tongue off or something. "He's as emotional as a girl, and hits like one too, so no big." He ended the commentary with a shrug.

[Elda Forever]

Lilith Eytinge

"Ray Charles is one of the best musicians of the 20th century with a blockbuster movie to boot, so I will take your attempted blow and place it in my reality as a compliment, because everyone knows Ray Charles owned."

Lilith paused, unable to counter such a bold statement with any infallibility in his logic. Dramatically feigning lamentation, she said, “Fine, fine. My life was changed especially by his 'Let's Go Get Stoned'.”

She smirked at him, and Trent shrugged. "Don't worry. I'll still be your friend even if you do have a drug problem, Lilith." She burst out laughing at that, reveling in his quick wit.

“And I have a question for you...” she cooed, then gave a little laugh, an echo of her sentiments when she had first heard the rumor of what had happened. Trent raised his eyebrows, suspicious but simultaneously clueless as to the origin of her reaction. “Did you really get punched out by Erin's ex-boyfriend at a party?” She laughed at the way his face seemed to twitch at that, surprise in every muscle on his handsome face. "The story's been going around that you and Erin are an item."

"Were," Trent corrected immediately, amusing her immensely. "Definitely past tense.”[/b]

“Oh?” she breathed, trailing her fingertip along the edge of the tabletop and smiling to herself as she kept her eyes trained on him.

”I'm not a big fan of the itemizing. And I think he's an ex-ex, now, since he's playing bass for us now." It was Lilith's turn to look surprised. She leaned forward to rest her chin in the palm that wasn't practically petting the edge of the table.

“An interesting turn of events, if I may add.”

"He's as emotional as a girl, and hits like one too, so no big." He ended the commentary with a shrug, but Lilith giggled at his attempted nonchalance.

“It sounds like he hit your pride pretty hard, though,” she teased, cut off from her next stinging comment by her phone singing out an old 80s dance tune. Her smile faded into a pout as she checked the message, letting out a sigh. “Gotta go, Trent. But it's been great,” she stood up and collected her things, ruffling his hair with one hand on her way out the door.

“See you around,” she muttered, less energetically this time, tempted to look around and give him one last look, but knowing it was silly to do so. And he would just tease her for it later. Instead, she gave an ambivalent wave over her shoulder as she left.

Lilith is done here.