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Date & Time: November 7th, 2256
Location: Paris, France.
Characters: Kanaya Maryam

hotdate
Summary: MISSION! Screwing over UE's chemical weapons chances with the power of bureaucracy!
Warnings: Teenagers and probable fires.

[Heath absolutely leapt at the opportunity to get off the moon base for a while, to get out of the stifling plastic cage that had been his home for almost two months. Even more tempting was spending it with a girl. Like heck he could ever turn something like that down. The human disguise, however, was a major downside. Though he knew from experience that normies got really antsy around monsters, so it was probably for the best.

So now he stands in Paris, glancing around, looking just like any regular normie]

This place looks almost identical to Scaris. The normies really did make their side of the city look exactly like ours. Talk about no imagination.

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Scaris? Seriously?

[It still surprised Kanaya how much she could be herself around this boy who probably would have understood "secreterrorist" as a legitimate career choice. She could throw her head back and laugh hard enough to expose . Even if the surrounding civilians saw her dentition as flat, she was glad to be going to a country where the green and black makeup she favored wasn't going to attract too many stares.]

That is an objectively far superior name. So what do they call the... [She consulted her notes for directions to their destination again.] "Rue Montorgueil", there.

[He certainly wouldn't bat an eyelid. He grins at her comment, because so many people in Exsilium thus far have dismissed the monster-fied names of Earth's cities as 'silly']

It is a better name, isn't it? And we call it the Boo Minotourgueil.

Wow, human creativity strikes again, I see.

[Comfortable enough to use sarcasm? They're making big strides here. She points toward said road, at a nearby street corner.]

We only have to go two blocks this way - from there the building will be the third one on our left.

I know right? They have zero imagination.

[At least Heath is used to this sort of thing. He can master just about any conservation after spending as much time with Abbey as he has]

Cool, and then it's paperwork city.

Pretty much. I will be working on the fifth floor supervised by Monsieur Bertrand and you're on the first with Monsieur Dupont. The good news is that the holograms convert our tablets to era-appropriate technology, so we can contact each other if anything somehow goes horribly wrong. It can be quite inconvenient to be further in the past where communication devices would be totally inexplicable.

We get released at 6:00, local time, and actually the transporter won't take us back until 7:30. The sun already sets here by then... What would you do in "Scaris" after dark, anyway?

[Heath nods, only really getting about a quarter of what she says. He's sure he can just wing what he's already forgotten. Monsieur Deepint? Something like that. Eh, he'd be fine]

Awesome. [He tilts his head, tapping his chin in consideration] Well, the café's stay open til' heck'a late. We usually hung around those. Or just wandered around, enjoying the sights.

[She listens to him while waiting for the streetlight to change.] That sounds like a solid plan.

[From there it's not long until they get into the building. With a little good-bye wave she disappears into the elevator, exhibiting just a hint of the vampiric grace she has to repress in public.]

[He makes note of that, after all most of the vampires show it off to the point of flaunting back in school. Something he'll remember to bring up later, after he's done completely screwing up all this paperwork]

[For similar reasons, in spite of being on a higher floor than Heath she gets out of the building first. So Kanaya ends up sitting on the bench outside waiting for him. In Paris it gets very dark very quickly after sunset; her glow should be cutting through the darkness fairly widely, but the barriers of the hologram force the light to limit itself to a mere halo. Her eyes are even brighter yellow headlamps when she sees him.]

How did it go?

[He grins, looking ridiculously pleased with himself by all accounts]

It went great! The guy who was looking after me was super French and super boring, but after an accident with a tiny bit of fire in a trash can where some documents [finger quotes] 'got misplaced'. It all ran smoothly.

[She has to cover her mouth with both hands to hide her amusement; nevertheless her eyes literally light up and betray her laughter.]

Is that your preferred technique...? Well, you know what they say about romantic and bellicose fairness.