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{ starter for @Tatienne }
*Idris, about a year ago...*
Seventeen-year-old Ches Hightower dragged his arm across his forehead, wiping away the sweat that had blossomed from his morning jog. His tousled brown hair was damp, sticking to his temples and the nape of his neck.
Making his way into the kitchen, he spotted a familiar figure, and slipped silently up behind it to trap it in a tight, sweaty, stinky hug.
"Ambush!" He said, laughing as he held the girl captive. "You'd be --
(@HeavensBlade) -- arms against it and looking out over the snow-covered city before deciding he should take a took around, get to know the layout.
Ches began wandering the halls, hands loosely tucked into the pockets of his trousers as he eyed the decor lining the hallways. It was a nice place, he decided. He'd enjoy living here.
(@HeavensBlade) -- your liking," Élodie replied. She had a French accent, but it wasn't too strong. Like all Shadowhunters, she'd been required too to learn English young. It was the official language of Idris, after all. "Dinner will be served half-passed eight. If you need anything, you can find myself, my son Leon, or Melea Skycrest. She's another resident here."
And then she was gone, and Ches was left to settle into his room. He spent a few minutes at the windowsill, leaning his --
@HeavensBlade -- since their family's reputation had been besmirched, thanks to Valentine Morgenstern's son.
"This is your room," Élodie told Ches, leading him into a modestly, but tastefully, decorated room that had its own bathroom branching off from it. A large bed room up the center of the room, and out the window was a view of the city.
Ches wandered in, taking it in as he laid his baggage at the foot of his new bed. "Very nice," he commented. "Very posh."
"Glad it's to --
{ starter for @HeavensBlade }
February, 2013.
It was a nice gesture for Élodie Verlac, head of the Paris Institute, to speak English with Ches, since it was his first language. Although, he spoke French fluently enough.
Here he was: The Paris Institute. This was the place Ches Hightower had chosen for his travel year. Paris always sounded nice enough, plus the Verlacs were distant cousins of his mother's. It seemed fitting. Additionally, the Verlacs had gotten fewer inhabitants --
𝗖𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝗛𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿
ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ᴄʜʀᴏɴɪᴄʟᴇꜱ ᴏᴄ. ꜱᴇᴍɪ-ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴠᴇ. ꜱᴇᴍɪ-ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ. ꜱᴇʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ. ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱ/ɴᴏɴ. ᴍᴜʟᴛɪ-ꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄʜᴇᴍɪꜱᴛʀʏ. ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ, ᴅᴀʀᴋ, ᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙʟʏ ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ.
⁽ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵖˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵖⁱⁿⁿᵉᵈ⁾
Ai Aikawa