#laurent--stpierre

[maksimkurylenko]

FOR: @laurent--stpierre WHEN: 30th of January, 2023. WHERE: Barts, Chelsea Cloisters, Sloane Ave.

"This is our last chance to make sure we can get in, and then get back out with no one..." Maksim's voice trailed off, the hairs on the back of his neck standing. Turning to look over his shoulder as the door to Barts opened, his face paled. This was not what they fucking needed tonight, with preparations underway for a few new arrivals from overseas, it meant new things were underway. It was the only thing he felt was going right.

But of course, St. Pierre was here.

"This isn't gonna' be pleasant boys," He said, with a grumble resonating low in his chest. He was in the right mind to up and leave, but that wouldn't do much for his reputation, so he raised a brow at those at his table. "Leave." was all he said, and they were moving.

But he remained.

"Care to join," was all he said over his shoulder. "I made plenty room."

[mrofontaine]

For: @laurent--stpierre

Olivier stepped into the dimly lit room of the underground, the pulsating beats of music reverberating through the air downstairs, it took him no time to take two steps at a time as he headed upstairs, instantly the music fading out into the background. His eyes scanned the room, searching for a familiar face. There, at the bar, bathed in a soft neon glow, sat Laurent; the last time he'd slid into a seat beside him he'd ended up being punched, quite hard, by the same man.

However, he hoped times had changed. Although, they hadn't. Not after Aur. Things wouldn't be the same, he was keenly aware.

A mischievous smile on Olivier's lips before he spoke, Olivier reached into his pocket, retrieving a small baggie disgused as nothing more than a twenty pound note. Leaning in, voice laced with an undeniable temptation, he held his hand out under the bar discreetly.

''Brought you a gift, thought a pick me up might do us god.''

[amescastaignede]

@laurent--stpierre​

Amélie believed them all to be monsters. They knew what they did damaged the lives of those around them, and yet, continued with little to no remorse. That was not morally grey, that was unyielding filth, in her eyes. And for someone who struggled to be around people on a normal day to day basis, even she had to tell herself to fashion her face into something other than a distasteful grimace. 

Laurent St. Fucking Pierre. 

Before her was a man she’d learnt so much about, yet, seeing him in the flesh would never have prepared her for the sinking in her stomach. A man who had destroyed, and would go on to destroy many more unless Amélie did what she had promised. She had to follow through.

This was her time. Right here. Right now. 

‘‘I, uh--’‘ Don’t be a dickhead, Amélie. Spit the words out. ‘‘I know this is going to be so random, b-because you don’t know me, and I don’t know you, obviously...’’ Wow. ‘’But is there any chance you’ve seen my brother? Mathias? I know he left for Paris, but I heard he’d came back. And I guess I’ve just been worrying about him? I mean, what kind of brother just ups and leaves, y’know? And that’s when I started thinking --- well what if something happened to him? And then I started panicking and I some how wound here, talking to you. And I just need to know my brothers okay. Can you help me? I don’t...I didn’t want to disturb you, you look like a busy man. Oh god. I’m rambling.’‘

She didn’t much care about actually seeing Mathias. She missed him like crazy, but to see him would mean that she’d have to act to the best of her ability in front of someone who could dissect her in seconds. He knew her better than anyone, and he knew when she was lying. However, it was the only way she could start a topic with a man of his status without being removed. 

In fact, he could still have her removed. 

[emineyalaz]

@laurent--stpierre​

Night had taken over the city, cabs rushing past as the winter rain splashed effortlessly against the sidewalk, bouncing up, hitting the long legs that were adorned by heels. The club had been lame, the music the same over-played songs in the same order as the previous week, and boredom had taken over the petite woman as she’d slumped in the chair before her friends, Gav and Kyle had urged her to end the night and head home. A short while later, she’d agreed.

However, now she stood in the cold, there was regret. 

‘‘Well---’‘ She stopped mid-sentence, feeling her sides flanked by the male company she kept that night; friends of Kerem’s, but her friends, really. In there was anything she knew, it was the fact that Kerem had probably asked them to keep any eye on her, watch and report. She kept a cool exterior, to not draw too much attention to herself.

But she was not a caged woman. She decided for herself. 

Laurent St. Pierre stood before her, shock etching across her features for a moment. Were there more French? In this part of London? She almost had to kink a brow, as lips parted and the closed. Reality hit like a ton of bricks. It was a lonely fucking Frenchmen, right?

She side eyed both the boys, before a smirk spread across her lips. This could be fun, right?