The Darkside of Paris, France

Paris, France's capital, is a noteworthy European city and an overall place for workmanship, style, cooking and eating and culture. Its nineteenth-century cityscape is bungled by wide streets and the River Seine. Past such milestones as the Eiffel Tower and the twelfth century, Gothic Notre-Dame church, the city is known for its little café culture and planner extravagant stores along the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré.

Pankratios flew to Paris, France. He was told that there was a professor there trying to make a prototype of the Black Death. The Black Death, otherwise called the Great Plague or the Plague, or less usually the Black Plague, was a standout amongst the most horrible and dangerous across the board ailments in mankind's history, bringing about the passings of a speculated 75 to 200 million individuals in Eurasia and topping in Europe from 1347 to 1351. If he got his hands on it, the world will be doomed forever. The problem was that, Pankratios does not know where it is. He went to the top of the Eiffel Tower. The Eiffel Tower is a carefully assembled iron cross-section tower on the Champ de Mars in Paris, France. It is named after the designer Gustave Eiffel, whose organization planned and fabricated the pinnacle. Pankratios used his mind control powers to get three tourists to find the virus for him.

France, the land of rude people and weird foods like snails. Pori had a desire for one of those things. The Slime creature took up her disguise, donning her yellow raincoat and boots. Her hood covered her head, lessening the amount of effort she had to put into shaping her body. She did decide to form 2 small braids which dangled just below her "collar" or her best attempt at making one. Other than that, she mostly kept inside of her Raincoat.

Stumbling around the city drew the attention of a lot of folk but nobody bothered her. They just looked at her funny and maybe laughed talked in that weird language. Pori did not speak the language of the country so it felt like she was more alone despite being surrounded by a lot of people. Thus she fell to her urges to practice moving like a human.

She was decent at walking, sort of. She needed to be focus or else her legs would mush together and she would lose the placement of her boots. On the other hand, she wanted to practice running for in case she got caught. So she opened her "arms" which were just tendrils filing the 3/4 of the long sleeves on the the rain coat and than ran around the city. She did her best to avoid touching anyone. If someone touched her, than she risked being exposed. Matching the density of the human body was hard when surprised after all.

After a while she decided to find food and what better way than leftovers. She jumped trash can to trash can, extending her braid into the filth and absorbed any organic matter she could come across while no one was looking. It all tasted the same to her, okay. Ripe human food was the best when warm. It had more... favor that way. Then in one bin, she found a full slice of bread. Lucky find, she reached in picking it up with her sleeve and moved it to her mouth. Only she discovered that she was discovered.

Some tourists was walking up to her. She was found, discovered. They would clearly call her out as a monster and then the army would come with their magical exploding cars and whirlybirds. It was over, but then it wasn't. The Tourist just ignored her and kept walking. Did they not care? Did they want to report her later? She could not just let it go without knowing her safety. So she decided to follow. After all, it would be good practice for walking quietly and the dreaded.... tip toeing.

Ah France, Paris to be exact, one of Rozmer’s absolute favorite places on earth. More specifically he enjoyed the view from atop the Eifel Tower. He could never quite explain it but something about it called to him. It honestly didn’t even matter the reality, a simply beautiful spot among infinity. And so on long days or times he needed to take a minute and recenter himself, he’d travel to that special place.

Tonight was no different as he leaned out on the railing and gazed and the bustling city below. Neon lights blipped and flickering between the even more lively nightlife. People traveled from cafe to bar and the sounds of joyful interaction traveled faintly to his ears below the whipping of a light breeze. He closed his eyes as he took it all on and breathed a deep therapeutic breath. With a sigh he released it and turned around to face the crowd on the viewing platform, his elbows now resting nonchalantly on the raking behind him.

His eyes danced across those gathered here, vacationers, newlywed couples. He had to admit it was a rather romantic place. Somewhere he thought he’d like some day to bring Shelby. A weak smile played on his face before dying back down at the thought. Well that deserves a smoke he grumbled before reaching into his breast pocket pocket and producing a pack of cigarettes. Tapping them in his palm twice he popped the top and slipped a single cigarette out. Fuck he groaned as he stuck the nicotine stick on his mouth as he realized he forgot his lighter. Once more his eyes dart s around the people at the top of the tower before coming to rest on a very determined young man in a dark black outfit with fiery red hair.

Hey man he started at the young man as he moved towards him got a light?

Cobblestone and neon. Five hundred year old churches, and the local gas station. Old world lampposts, and florescent lighting. Paris was a city caught between eras, not quite modern and not quite medieval. It had changed, that's for sure. It was not the same as it was when Flamel was young, but then again neither was he. Both the city and the man were old, but also new. In that regard, it was rather fittingly his place of birth.

The old man, dressed in gold and black nobleman's clothes, walked through the streets around that great masterpiece of a tower. His cane tapped against the streets as he headed to his favorite cafe. He'd been coming there since the place was first opened, centuries ago. Sure it had changed hands and changed decor a number of times, but it was still the best place to get a cup of coffee in France. Hell, given the quality of the stuff in other countries, perhaps the world.

"Nick! Old friend! I thought you may have kicked the bucket by now, but here ya are. Haven't aged a day!" the man behind the counter roared when Flamel opened the door, a copper bell alerting his entry. Nicolas could only smile. He'd known this man for thirty years, and he was perhaps one of the best owners the cafe had ever had.

"Ça fait trop longtemps, vieil ami. How are you?" Flamel said, speaking in French before moving on to English. He sat at his usual leather chair, strategically placed close to the counter so he could converse with the man.

"Oh, ya know. Tough. Things are changing. People don't enjoy sitting around here, spending money all day as much as you do. I hear they are going to be moving some stores of that American company here soon, just a few blocks from me. Star Dollars or something," the man said, placing Nick's usual expresso and pastry in front of him. The alchemist sipped his coffee, furrowing his brow at his friend's problem.

"Bernard..... You know I could help you with that. You just have to let me," Nick said, his eyes making the offer he had made countless times before. Bernard just shook his head, getting back to wiping the counters.

"Yeh, Nick. I know you're well off. I know ya wouldn't mind. But..... I told you. I worked for every bit of money I ever got. Not going to change that," Bernard said, stubborn as always. The old man smiled. His friend was flawed, yes, but he wouldn't have had him any other way.

"That pride is going to get you into some trouble some day, son," Nicolas said. Bernard, who was well into being middle aged by now, just scoffed.

"You're still calling me that, Nick? At the rate we're going, I might be older than you soon!" Bernard said. The two laughed and caught up with each other. Paris had changed, indeed, but Flamel's love for it had not. This was still his little slice of the world. This was still where he truly lived.

Flamel said his goodbyes, walking out of the cafe hours later. This time, though, he had betrayed his friend. It was perhaps the last time he would see him, and the man's kids deserved a good life. He left some bars of gold under the counter, when Bernard wasn't looking. He hoped it would be enough.

Nicolas took more time then usual lingering outside, breathing in the air of the city. Although stereotypically it was supposed to smell bad, it couldn't be further from the truth, at least in the parts Nick frequented. He only smelled fresh air, high quality cuisine, and stone.

While Flamel admired his city, getting ready to get back to work, he by a bit of chance looked upward, towards the top of the Eiffel Tower. It was closed this late in the day, to be sure, but he could still make out two figures atop it.

Nick furrowed his brow, looking around for any security personnel he could notify. When he didn't find any, he shrugged internally. Looks like he wasn't leaving Paris just yet. He had to scare off some punks, who were likely trying vandalize the work of art in some way or another. It wouldn't take long, he was sure.

The Father of Alchemy touched the base of the tower, instantly using his stone to transhift his body through the metal. His consciousness traveled rapidly along the tower's height, before his body finally re-emerged at the top. It was like teleportation, only the alchemist had used the tower itself as his means of transport.

At the top he saw one man whom he had never seen, but another he..... Knew of, to be certain.

"I can't imagine stopping one such as you from going where you please, but why is the other here?" Flamel said to Rozmer. The being would easily recognize the alchemist. Nick was, after all, the Lych's most prized student, and had made an appearance when everyone got together to fight The Black Beast. Even if Rozmer did not know from Zell, anyone with any knowledge of the magical and alchemical underground would know the form of Nicolas Flamel. The Father of Alchemy was, after all, the stuff of legend.

Pankratios gotten word that the plague was found at the Louvre. The Louvre, or the Louvre Museum, is the world's biggest workmanship exhibition hall and a noteworthy landmark in Paris, France. A focal milestone of the city, it is situated on the Right Bank of the Seine in the city's first French area. Pankratios turned into his Demi-God form. He took off from the Eiffel Tower and flew to the Louvre.

Pankratios landed at the entrance. He walked in and started to burn everyone in his path. If Pankratios was going to steal something, then he will look hot while doing it.

Pori followed the man who did not freak out at her. It was like watching a spy moving if the spy was as settle as a giant and as clumsy as that popular cartoon dog man on that show about the famous talking black mouse. Bumping into trashcans and poles while falling over every time she tried to walk on her "toes." Lucky or her, nobody cared and the person she was following was obvious to it all. It was so weird. Even she felt like she deserved to be caught... if not out right called out.

The man stopped in front of this building under this giant entrance. Pori raised her head almost loosing her hood as she took in the whole structure. There were gold people and stone people on top. The pillar or walls, or whatever they are called, were just pretty. France was a very pretty place but this was at he top of her list of pretty things in France. She resisted fought to resist the urge to climb the thing. Surely she would be caught as a slime and then attacked. It was too risky. Besides, she had to follow the... man.

Pori looked down and saw he was gone. She gasped and looked around. there were a bunch of people around but the person she was following gone. She was screwed. It was over. No it was not. She clumsily march her way to that giant triangle coming out of the ground but she ran into a problem. There was water on the ground.

How deep was it? Looking around, Pori could see pathways around it. She let out a sigh of relief since she did not have to risk entering it. However, she was not safe from the water just yet. A fiery figure just darted out of the sky and started burning everything in-front of the museum. People were getting hurt and dying. Pori had to do something.

She ran to the closes point between the fire and the fountain and took a deep breath. She slipped her sleeve inside the fountain and started absorbing water. Here body swelled like a balloon as she kept the water in a pocket inside her body. She was careful not to absorb it so she could wouldn't lose her mass. Then she raised her sleeve and a large tendril of slime slithered into the are until it was over the flames. Pori then fed the water through her tendril till it stopped at the end. The tip of the tendril swelled like a water balloon. This was it. She slammed the tendril onto the ground of the fire and water spewed over the flames putting them out and absorbing what little slime survived the explosion of water.

Fearing more flames existing inside of the building. Pori absorbed more water though this time, she used it to increase her mass. Her boots floated up into under the yellow rain coat which sat on top of swelling ball of slime. With everything she had eaten on the way here she had more than enough mass to grow to about the size of a large truck while keeping a sufficient amount of calories to grow more if needed. So she had no problem with replacing 50% of that calorie mass with just water mass and storing those calories for later.

So Pori created a pocket inside of the ball of mass and filled it with water expanding to about 3 times her size. She was slow as her bowling ball pin shape lugged the water to the entrance of the museum where the flying figure landed. The girl managed to keep the rain coat arms and hood filed with slime to give it a more human shape on the top. Hopefully it would make her less scary. Once there she would look for fires though would not act as she was not sure were the source was coming from.

As Rozmer approaches the man with the red hair he heard a voice behind him. "I can't imagine stopping one such as you from going where you please, but why is the other here?" The words stopped him din as in his tracks. They were clearly directed at him. With the cigarette still oitsretchedto the other man Rozmer swiveled his body around to the voice behind him. I’m sorry you’re gonna have to... he trailed off as his eyes met the regally dressed older gentleman. He knew he recognized th man from somewhere but his focus wasn’t quite there. Not getting his fix could do that to Rozmer.Yea alright hold on he muttered more to himself than to the older man. Flamel right? he said as he finally tatted to connect the dots.Yea you’re uh...Nick right Rozmer spoke with a slight urgency, more concerned with getting his cigarette lit than the man’s inquiries. Give me just one second.

With that he turned back to the man who had not moved an inch not even acknowledged Rozmer’s presecence. He wagged th cigarette between his fingers in the man’s direction, trying harder to get his attention. Hey buddy, did asked if you’ve got a light. You can just say no, don’t have to pretend like I’m not here. Rozmer was growing impatient, what the hell was this guy’s problem? And just as he was about to go to tap the man on the shoulder, his form erupted into a black carapace with molten orange fissures bursting through the cracked surface. Before he could say another word the now molten creature rocketed off the platform on a column flame and intro thto sky.

Rozmer stood there for a moment, mouth agape as he watched the thing rocket through the air, blazing a bright orange trail for the Louvre. But quickly the dumb looked turned to a mix of confusion and anger as he stared down at his still outstretched hand and the unlit cigarette. You have fire powers and you couldn’t just light my damn cigarette you fucking prick!! he shouted after the man, flailing his arms and stomping his feet like a child throwing a tantrum. For a few moments he stood there fuming as he watched the orange comet, making sure the Louvre was in fact his destination before remembering that there was another person up here with him. More importantly, another person who knew who he was.

Collecting himself, he brushed the dust off from the takeoff and turned back to Flammel. Sorry about that he said, a little embarrassed. So uh, what were you saying before, why was that guy here? He nooses over his shoulder at the scorch mark on the platform.Honestly I have no idea, didn’t even know he could do...well that. Stopping for a second he shrugged his shoulders and said matter of factly but he just stuffed me and acted like a total prick, so I’m gonna make it my business to find out. I’m Rozmer by the way, don’t know if we’ve ever formally met. Then a little sheepishly he continued don’t suppose you’ve got a light do ya?

———————————————————————

In a blink Rozmer appeared at the Louvre right as the not so human torch was landing. Hey Lumiere! he shouted, standing no less than a few feet in front of the guy. Calmly he tapped out another cigarette as a gout of flames passed harmlessly through him. I was talking to you. Remember me? Yea? From like five seconds ago? Then the waterworks started as a large, um...well slime was really the only way Rozmer could describe the thing started putting out the fires on the area. He turned to the creature, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. Doing great kid he gave a large corny smile in the creature’s direction before turning back to ththe burninator and gesturing to the slime. Friend of yours?

Flamel watched the interaction between the two individuals with confused curiosity. Rozmer seemed like a drug addict that needed a fix, and the other just seemed like he was ignoring everyone around him. Regardless, Nick didn't get an answer to his question until after the mystery man scorched off the tower into flight, heading for a building below. Though, this was not just any building. Nicolas recognized it as The Louvre. It housed a magnificent art collection, but more importantly, many innocent people. Something told the old alchemist that the man of fire wasn't going down there to admire the masterworks.

Rozmer formally introduced himself. Nicolas of course knew the name, and had seen the man before. This was the first time they had directly spoken to each other, though. Flamel bowed his head slightly. Even though he was weary of such beings, he maintained his manners. Besides, this one didn't have too bad of a track record so far.

"Nicolas Flamel, at your pleasure. And yes, I have seen you before, but never had a reason to speak to you," Nick said. Rozmer, slightly defeated, then asked for a light. Flamel smiled. He doubted it would take someone like Rozmer very long to acquire a lighter, but he nonetheless humored the void being. Flamel raised his cane, the red stone glowing momentary. Just like that, the tip of Rozmer's cigarette would light.

"Now that you have your nicotine, we ought to get down there. I'd rather not have historic art destroyed because of some power drunk metahuman. I mean, just look at this mess! It could take weeks to repair these burn marks. As far as I'm concerned, he's snubbed me just as much as he did you. I'd be glad to help you throw him out of my city," Nick said. Roz disappeared shortly after that. The alchemist had his own means of travel, but he couldn't say it was as efficient as Rozmer's.

It took him a moment, but he eventually decided to create a few flames before transhifting into them. His consciousness then traveled down and toward the gallery, eventually latching onto nearby flames, which, coincidentally, were now abundant in the building. He reappeared brilliantly in the fire, ready to put an end to this.

Flamel tapped his cane against the ground, the philosopher's stone lighting up. It's energy surged out in a faint wave, moving into the flames around him and manipulating them—changing them. Soon the fire simply dissipated into various gases, disappearing entirely.

Flamel looked at the source of these flames with scorn. He wasn't in the mood for pointless destruction. He walked over with his usual calculated, sophisticated gait, soon standing next to Rozmer and looking at the instigator of this mess with a death glare.

"Now, let's start over. I'm Sir Nicolas Flamel. What brings you to Paris?" Nick said, golden eyes scanning the barbaric terrorist in front of him. It was pretty clear from his expression that the alchemist was not messing around.

Itsi bitsy the little spider. That's who he felt like when trying to push through the ridiculously narrow space. One step, get stuck, push. One step, get stuck, push. Yeah he definitely felt like the little spider trying to climb under the rain. He was at his twentieth or was it thirtieth step, when all hell broke lose. The fire alarm went blaring and the sprinkler started showering him. Ok now he really felt like the little spider. And who in their right mind would put sprinkler in stairs!

Downstair, the sound of machine gun firing. How was he so sure, well try being targeted by it. This helps remenbering its sound. Well truth being told, the machine gun had been active since step five. So he had quite the dilemma continue downstair or go upstair to see what happened. Well there were five steps left, plus water
was making him a little more slippery. Well hope that the situation upstair would be taken care of.

Finally he reached the ground. Well justice had been sufficiently delayed. So he threw himself in the fastest sprint he could muster. Let's be honest, that wasn't a good feeling, his clothes were sticking on his body, plus they were cold and clammy. But there was no time to go back to the hotel and don his super hero attire. No he had to stop... whatever was happening.

While running toward the noise, he met different corpses, all wearing military uniform. One was missing his weapon and had a knife stuck in his neck. What the beejeezus happened here.

In the basement there were a lot of cargo, row and row of crates, some were opened and if he had time, he would have seen the content of those. But as it was, he had to bring justice!

He found a corpse in front of a door with the biohazard sign on it and some french writings probably something along the lines of authorized personnal only. Well seing as the door was wide open, it seems that this was the terrorist destination.

Inside other boxes but metal one and yellow with the biohazard sign on it. And here was a single individual, the machine gun was discarded at his feet. He was busy opening and emptying the content of all thoses boxes.

-You know, if you wanted something exotic, you should have gone to the gift store. All right play time is over cease at once whatever you are doing and surrender! You are under arrest.

No answer, the guy was still busy searching. Ah yeah right French.

-Vous arrêter maintenant!

Still no answer! Ok that was clearly rude.

-Hey buddy, I'm...

Multiple gunshot were heard close to him just behind him really. Machine gun upclose. He felt like under a rain with lead bullet instead of water. Then silence.

-Talking... Ok now you've really done it.

Two men were standing with machine gun aimed at him by the door he just entered. The other one stopped moving . He was frozen in place. The reason being that under this hellfire, multiple liquid nitrogen were shot at. So now it was misty. And cold, also there were oxygen bottle here, which meant that if damaged and with the nitrogen, the situation would be explosive. And one of these two gentlemen's finger was going to the trigger.[/i]

-Oh sh...

I hope you can continue without Jean.

If not, here's how it goes down:

The man standing in the door suddenly vanished, a puff of smoke mixing with the cold gases in the air. He was gone, indefinitely.

. o O ( Good luck. (: )