decadent_david: (Skeptical)
[personal profile] decadent_david
[Events here are based on this previous post regarding trouble at David's hotel]

Finally, the ship docks. David gathers his bags, shrugs on his coat and hat, and prepares to find his way to the train station. The rest of his journey is long, and rather boring. He tries to read, but his mind wanders often. The countryside rolls past, and now and then, sheep grazing in their pastures are seen. David smiles and think of a certain herd he knows, knowing full well they are receiving the best of treatment. No sheep are spoiled as much as Weaving Sheep.

The shriek of steam signals the train pulling into the station. Carriages line the street outside in a neat array, and David signals the first in line. He is soon delivered to his hotel. He smiles at the fresh array of flower boxes arranged neatly outside, and nods at familiar faces seated in the lobby. But then he is surprised by a discreetly whispered summons from the concierge, who leads him into an office behind the front desk, where the owner of the hotel wishes to speak with him. David sits quietly and listens to the news of what has happened in his absence. He carefully keeps his face expressionless as he learns that he will no longer be able to remain in the hotel, and must move his belongings to a new location. He nods, apologizes for the inconvenience, and promises to move his possessions as soon as new room arrangements can be made. While he's there, he settles his remaining account. When he is presented with the bill for damages, he pays it without hesitation, much to the owner's surprise. His mail has stacked up in his absence. He collects the envelopes, notes that one is from his father, but pushes the stack into his jacket pocket for later review.

His pocket money is now quite low, and so his next stop is the bank to replenish his wallet. But, the teller shakes her head at the amount he asks to withdraw, stating that there is not that much in his account. He's puzzled. There should have been two deposits in his absence, his monthly allowance had been quite regular, and his father's banker was always very meticulous that way. He asks to see his account balance, and is shocked. There's barely enough there to live on for a week! Withdrawing a very small amount, just enough to get a hotel room, David leaves, frowning. A block from the bank is a small park, where he settles onto a bench, thinking he would catch up on his mail and let his mind work through his current situation. And then he reads the letter from his father. His current situation has just reached a crises level. He would need to take action, and soon. But not today. Today is his first day back in Paris, and right now, he just wishes to find a hot meal and a friendly face. That is as far as he can allow himself to think.

Standing, he walks in the direction of La Jarretière Verte, intent on finding relief in pleasant distractions...
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August 2003

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