#fierytempiar

        Ned was on a train, as it arrived at the station. He got off, and adjusted his glasses a little bit. As he examines the area, and it looked like something was pushed into his pocket. Resembling a letter or something, as he looks around and then walks out of the station. Before bumping into someone as normal, boy was he clumsy. “Oh! Sorry ma’me!” He exclaims as the letter dropped from his pocket, as he shakes his head “Are you okay?” 

“Moi? Crusty? Now that’s certainly an overstatement. You act as if I have the appearance of Germain.” 

Arno strolled along the smelly yet lively streets of the dirty district of Ventre de Paris. Arno's hands were deep in his jacket pockets, feeling at the silk nothingness. Dorian had no sous, no sous to support himself in terms of brand new weaponry and food sold only in the richer districts like Le Louvre and Le Marais, which Arno could easily obtain at the right time. In simplicity, Arno was as broke as France's government at the time. Arno bumped into a citizen, usually suffering from the taste of no food or water for days on end. When he would bump into the suffering souls on accident, they would only a mumble a simple grunt, as if it was a cry for help. Arno was expecting a elegant fighter, whom had the exact same problem as Arno. She had no sous. She was not just any elegant fighter though, for she is the Fiery Templar. She is Élise de la Serre, Arno's redheaded lover. Dorian mumbled under his breath a bit as he leaned against a stone railing, a barrier for an apartment. This 'off' spot was the spot Élise wanted him at. Arno, of course obeyed and waited.