[evangeline juliet newbury]

The world was pale when the early dawn light settled over the city. It was just before the time when many were able to roll out of bed and begin their daily work. The loudest noise was the barking of a stray dog as a drunk stumbled down an alleyway. Everything seemed to glow in a silver ambience, the slow churning waters of the Thames steadily crept towards the ocean seemed to sparkle with an unearlthy glow. Dewy shingles on the tops of houses and the slick remainders of frost on the cobblestones sparkled like tiny diamonds strewn arcorss the city. A pale, warm glow of yellow hovered on the horizon, the sun had just began it ascent into the heavens, climbing up from it's bed. Clouds, like whisps of smoke, floated delicately in the sky, their pale underbellies highlighted a buttery gold. the sky was just a faded blue tone, not quite as vibrant as it would be sooner or later. A pigeon or two took flight as a cat scampered onto the streets. The fresh, warm smell of smoke and baking bread was thick on the wind. It was the unmistakable smell of London. That and the scent of rubbish and fish carcass'. But a few citizens prefered to look on the sunny side of things, and Evangeline was one of the few that tended to be a bit optimistic.

She had risen earlier than usual, like a loaf of bread with too much heat, and washed herself and stolled about the town in the earliest parts of the day. Of course, she had made a few pick pocketting ventures to sleeping drunks dressed in finery. The little theif had quickly left them on the windowsill of the orphanage and continued her stroll through the town. She liked to people watch, to escape the prying eyes of her father's servants. She hated being watched, and had acquired an incredible knack for escaping her father's men. Eva liked solitude, she liked being able to hear her own thoughts and browse the topics of interest inside of her head. Evangeline adored the thrills that went through her body when she had to fight, or preform her little act in order to get money that was needed elsewhere. She liked the rush of adrenaline and the heart pounding madness that went on in a few seconds. Eva liked to see the faces of the grubby children when she dropped a new purse full of coins into their windowsill. She liked to know that those less fortuneate than her would be fed. She liked being the sometimes good samaritan.

With long, measured strides, Evangeline snaked her way through murky puddles and piles of rubbish onto the raised platform of the London Bridge. Her hair was tied back behind her head, parted to the sight and wrapped up in a bun as usual. Her pale skin shone with cleansliness (she was a bit of a germaphobe) and the frail scent of jasmine and roses hanging around her. A crisp, clean dress of a lavender tone hung about her and was clasped together by her chest with a snuggly fitting vest that was laced up the front. She moved with the grace and agility of a cat, or perhaps a dancer, but she was neither of those. Her cheeks were rosy from the cool wind and her lips were still darker from the rogue that she had whiped off of them. Eva trudged up the bridge, slightly littered with people here and there, passerby attempting to get to their homes before someone else noticed that they were gone. Politely Eva smiled at one or two of them. A few were drunk still, glassy-eyed and hangovers were begining to find their way to their brains. A woman wearing bright clothes and smudged makeup scampered by, obviously a prostitute. There was another person that seemed slightly out of place. Eva slowed her gait, observing the young man from a distance.

She blinked slowly, annoyed with herself for taking so much interest in a stranger. She probably looked a bit out of place herself. Eva obviously didn't belong with the band of nightfolk that hurried across the bridge. Although she herself partook in mischevious events, she was able to keep her virtue totally intact. There was no way she'd resort to prostitution. Posing as a whore, on the otherhand, was quite a different story. Suddenly, the light caught a stone and a glittering ray shot out from her neck. Evangeline stiffened and her hand shot up to her neck where she felt the slender chain of a necklace about her neck. Pursing her lips in irritation, she allowed her hand to touch the sapphire encrusted ring she kept by her side at all times. Usually, she hung it on a silver chain her father had given her. There were few vanities she kept for herself, but the ring her father had left her kept her safe for the meantime. She fiddled with it briefly, turning to the river to glance at the slowly churning water, her eyes glazing over softly.

But she had turned far too quickly. With a sharp impact, she hit another person. Startled, Evangeline stared doe eyed at the person. For a second, a flash of fury rumbled in her eyes, her lips parting to make a sharp reproach. But Evangeline remembered her manners briefly and was able to mumble, "Pardon, monsieur. J'exuse...je tres fatigue..." And then blinked in surprise when she realized not a word of English came from her lips. Blushing, she dipped her head again, but chose not to say anything more. It was hard enough bumping into someone, but then appologizing in a different language, Evangeline found that to be a bit more embarassing.

[lucian everett rochester]

Lucian was also on his way home, after a fun night of wild events he needed to get home as soon as possible. He didn't even know what time it was, just that he needed to get home before his parents woke up. If he didn't make it on time he would have to find some wild excuse as to why he looked so disheveled and had the smell of alcohol and smoke on him. Perhaps he could beg his sister to cover for him, but that was only if he didn't get home on time. Whenever he had his sister pretend as if Lucian was out doing something early in the morning, he often had to pay a small price for her acting abilities. It was quite annoying to pay her off and she usually threatened to tell their parents about what he was off doing, but so far they had yet to know that their son ran off to the streets of London almost every night for a bit of fun.

Though he was not drunk, he did have a bit swagger to his walk from the drinks he had had hours and hours ago. He was smart enough to know not to drink too much, especially with the filth of London surrounding him. It just wasn't a wise combination, plus he liked to be in control of any situation. To be completely drunk and incapable of doing much, he knew he wouldn't feel comfortable at all with the people around him. After all they could easily try and rob him or whatever these people did for money. Of course he didn't mind getting a bit drunk but enough to know what was going on that is all.

Yawning a bit as he walked, how he disliked mornings. Nothing ever fun happened in the morning, people were often so dull and there was no amusement to be had. If there were he would probably spend the whole day awake instead of usually sleeping away most of the day before he would wake up and prepare for his nightly escapades. With his black coat buttoned up neatly, he was doing his best to groom himself as he walked. After all it would be quite terrible to run into somebody he knew while he was still looking like this. Smoothing over clothes as he walked, perhaps nobody would be able to tell he had just gotten back from a wild night on the town. Tucking in the red cravat back into his black vest underneath, he hoped he looked decent.

Running a hand through his messy black hair, he had been so focused on getting home he hadn't even noticed the girl until he ran into her. Though he didn't have time to say anything as she spoke first. It took him a moment to realize she wasn't speaking English, trying to go over it in his head he wasn't sure what exactly she had said. How he hated the French language, though it did sound beautiful when one spoke it, it was terribly complex to him. He had spent years trying to learn it, his mother had always encouraged him to know the language, but he had never paid much attention to her request. Stepping back a little to give them a little room apart, he finally said after a moment,"Excuse me."

Now what to say to this pretty girl, he was in quite a dilemma. Was he to stay here and talk to this girl or should he run home and regret leaving the city so soon. Perhaps it was worth having to pay off his sister later, he had enough money to do it when he got home. "Parlez-vous l'anglais?" He asked with a smile, attempting to play off as if he knew the language well. It was hard to find the right words even as he spoke, he wasn't quite sure if he had actually said the correct words.

[evangeline juliet newbury]

Evangeline had been an only child for her entire life. She'd been cared for by many women and many people around her. She'd had two sets of parents, and two sets of 'guardians'. She knew what it was like to be ignored, for her mother didn't take much of an interest in her. Thus, the death of the woman hadn't been much of a tragedy. Perhaps it was better that Evangeline had grown up in a place without many morals, because then she could figure out her own virtues. She liked to think it worked out better that way. Of course, there were some who disagreed with the fact that she actually had morals, which she did but often didn't show it, and only viewed her as a common criminal, which she wasn't. Then again, not too many people knew she was a form of criminal. We all were criminal at times, aren't we? Eva tended to ignore the fact she was breaking the law, after all, it was for a good cause. The orphans needed to eat, and they needed warm blankets to sleep under at night. God knows that Ms. Briggs didn't exactly spend her money on what was best for the children. Evangeline knew that personally well. She found it odd that the constable didn't check up on the orphanage, or some 'noble' benefactor. Oh, how she hated the wealthy, or most of them anyway. Few had any reguard for what the underlings did, or where their 'charity' money actually went. It was all ignorance, and it was all plain old stupid.

Perhaps what made Evangeline so bitter about the social classes was that she really didn't belong to one. Yes, her mother was a common whore. But her father was a wealthy nobleman, who still contacted her from time to time and kept tabs on her. But she didn't belong in either category. Eva tended to totally ignore social classes, boundaries meant nothing to her. She like to test them, she liked to break them. Oh yes, Evangeline didn't exactly live up to her namesake. Quite frankly, Evangeline liked to raise hell, she liked to be the adrenaline junkie. Of course, she kept up her masquarade as a simple baker, smiling sweetly from time to time and making a sarcastic quip when needed. Very steadily, she worked under the radar, keeping to herself most of the time, and only revealing her true self to those that were close to her. Which, at the moment, was nobody. Eva wasn't anybody's daughter, she wasn't anyone's burden. She had lived her entire life growing up by herself, she had been passed from hand to hand, being taught different things. She'd shaped her own hardy personality, her will to endure, purely out of chance. That was the only thing she really trusted, chance.

And it was by chance she bumped into the young nobleman. Oh yes, she could tell who he was just by the way he dressed. The finery, although disheveled, was still of good quality. His angular features, usually reserved for those of the upper class, were prominent and smudged with a bit of grime. On his breath she smelt the faintest bit of whiskey, and the usual stiffness in the gait of a parliment officer's son was gone. The liquor had done it's job. Perhaps the boy was stupid, he really shouldn't be trapseing around London town with fine clothes and probably a purse full of shillings. Or, maybe somebody had pickpocketed him already, which meant he didn't have any money....oh what was the difference? The young man obviously didn't belong here. And Evangeline knew it. Then again, she looked a tad bit out of place too, but she doubted he'd notice. All of the noblemen looked at the commoners as one in the same, dirty, smelly people that had no sence of style or propriety at all. All the women were squat and ugly with huge moles on their faces, thats what this man had been expecting. All the men were drunks and weren't faithful to their wives. And none of them could read. Those were just some of the stereotypes that ran off in Evangeline's head. Turns out, she was stereotyping the upper class herself.

Evangeline inclined her head delicately to the young man. Pretending she didn't notice that he really did stick out like a sore thumb. Her embarassment had left her, replaced by sheer amusement. If he were the little rich boy she had made him out to be, he'd probably be learned in at least elementary French. For some reason, many found it fashionable to speak the little twittery language. Eva, on the other hand, found it useful to know two languages. Her accent was flawless, but that was thanks to her mother, and the fact that le francais was her native tongue. A sweet, almost innocent smile worked its way upon her lips when he responded in her language. Nodding her head she said, "Yes, I do. But I find it a little more entertaining to see the expressions on people's faces when they have no clue what I'm saying. I admit, that I'm a little surprised that you understood me. Or, were you just pretending?" Her accent fluttered like a butterfly. She could speak English well, but her accent was prominent, she'd never been able to adopt the way the natives spoke. She prefered to be a foreigner anyway.

The slender young woman smiled once again. Her eyes glanced delicately over him once more. He was, indeed, an attractive young man, perhaps her age or a little older. She couldn't rightly tell. Evangeline wasn't one to go weak at a pair of pretty blue eyes, because it wasn't like her to pout and flirt at the feet of a man. Unless she was going to get something out of it, like a purse full of money to whisk away to grubby fingers. Yes, then she'd grovel. But she decided that it may be time to practice her charms just a little bit. A small, playful smile pulled at her lips gently. She purred in her accent, "But I must say, that I am not terribly dissapointed." Yes, her mother might have been proud at that moment, but Eva was particularly enjoying the uncertainty of the situation. If he were to scorn her, then she'd have another reason to dislike the nobility. And if he chose to engage in a conversation, well, maybe she'd give them a break.

[lucian everett rochester]

Lucian wasn't sure if his father donated anything to charities, he had never cared to ask him about it. Most of the time his father commented that the commoners were just lazy and didn't do anything to help their situations. Most of the time Lucian stayed quiet about it, he did somewhat disagree with him after all he had seen London and the people who lived there. Though he didn't necessarily relate to them in any way he knew enough to see how they worked. However he could never tell his father that, after all to his father's knowledge Lucian was always in bed and asleep at night and wouldn't even dream about going to London. Perhaps when he was older he would donate money to charities but for the time being he was having too much fun wasting his parents money on himself to even think about giving money to the poor and to all those sorts of places. He wasn't even quite sure if he could trust those people, they all seemed to be quite stingy and didn't seem to be the kindest of people. But there was no way he was about to help those kinds of people personally, all those sick people and those orphans and such, he'd heard stories about what terrible diseases there could be and all that horrifying gossip from his mother's friends. It just didn't sounds pleasant at all which was why he would rather give money than do anything else.

Oh yes to his parents point of view Lucian was everything a noble should be, not one to go out like those commoners and get drunk every night. Never had he ever slept with some whore, and of course he had never wasted away money on card games, or gotten in a fight. Oh no, Lucian was a proper boy who was refined and had good taste and was looking for a fine noblewoman to marry. Just the idea made Lucian laugh, oh if only his parents knew. They would probably never speak to him again, but still not disown him since that would mean that the Rochester's weren't the perfect family they pretended to be.

Laughing slightly as he imagined how many people must get confused by French. Certainly in the streets of London he could see those fools being confused over it. And perhaps maybe some of his mother's high society friends would be confused as well, though they pretended to know French they seemed to know less than he did and that was quite sad. "Maybe." He said simply with a playful smile on his face, was he really going to admit he hardly spoke French at all to this girl? Well it wouldn't hurt to be honest but still he couldn't help but have a little bit of fun while he was here. After all if he was going to have to pay off his sister he might as well have fun while he still had the freedom.

As she spoke he couldn't help but smile, listening to her accent more than anything else. It was quite lovely to hear a new sort of accent, though it confused him since most accents defined status. By her looks he could guess she could pass off as some noble but at the same time why would a noblewoman be out this early? He wasn't quite sure what she was, it puzzled him and yet he wasn't about to assume anything. Oh well it was much too early to be thinking of these silly things anyways, he would just think about it later or something. Whatever she was, he didn't care right now. He would just be nice for now, after all it was too early to start playing games with a girl. "I don't speak too much French, certainly not enough to get by anyways." He finally admitted, perhaps this girl was worth talking to he wasn't quite sure yet. Perhaps in a couple minutes he would be able to tell for sure. "So what brings you here so early in the morning?" Lucian was curious, a French speaking girl with beautiful looks up at this hour and surrounded by the rest of these drunks and commoners on their way to work? It sounded quite odd to him.