FATE's Divided [Open of course]

[FALLACIEUX]

(Look at this. Look at this: all of their tribulations condensed and compressed until palatable. Twenty hundred words to sum up a legacy? Impossible – and so this is but an excerpt, a taste for those who won’t experience it all for themselves. There are characters, although only a few, and out somewhere is a grand scheme, but this isn’t it. This is a puzzle unfinished, but can’t the pieces be beautiful even when incomplete?

Although you, dear Reader, are aware of part of the puzzle, there’s a gaping hole, because there are secrets only the dead keep. Even if I were so inclined to do so, I wouldn’t be able to dredge them up. If they were to exist, however, they would be filthy and unpalatable, unfit for the public’s regime of literature. What you don’t know can’t hurt you: keep that in mind.)

Once, Fallacieux was little. He had auburn hair that darkened as he grew and skin that paled the longer he spent indoors. Before he was born, his mother called him Fontaine, but after he was given to the doctors and, in turn, given to the orphanage, he was rechristened as Fallacieux. Poor Fallacieux, ungainly ugly Fallacieux who fit his name so well. He was an afterthought created by a god; if he were to create an afterthought of his own, would he become a god?

It’s sometime near the end of the twentieth century. December! Month of partridges in fruit trees, of cheer and giving, and what Fallacieux has been so thoughtfully given is his afterthought. Fallacieux scampers downstairs. There he hears his footsteps – one set weary, slow and thick. But the other is more identifiable, although Fallacieux’s been aware of the other boy for a day: little treads, little pitter-patters. He sounds like he’s scared to be walking.

Fallacieux walked through the kitchen doors and he only cradled his sepia-haired bear with aflame eyes, the one Angelo had given him, as a gift no less, yet hates it like a disease. Old memories and all, you see. He quickly spotted Angelo, and began walking smoothly over to the table. The boy has longer, bonier arms than Fallacieux, he’s scrawny, his fingers thin and nails bitten sharp. Fallacieux’s a few years younger than his associate, sixteen years old and the epitome of unfeeling: without boredom, temper, or curiosity, he’s missing a human part of him, yet still has a beating heart and a mind that befuddles the most erudite of prodigies before him.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" He asked, his voice light but the words coming out awkward and broken, as if he would sooner run onto a railway line than interrupt him.

His hair curled more wildly than ever, his eyes were lidded and the dark green in them was murky. He had not eaten anything more elaborate than plain rice in days. However, Fallacieux didn't say anything and merely gave a tired, placid stare straight ahead. But for now, he’s trying to work his way to the top, bit by bit, to protect himself, and to make the world pay for hurting him. Even if he has to sacrifice his dignity and sanity along the way.

Fallacieux smiled casually as he asked, "Would you mind if I sit here?"

[VANNI && MIMI]

Hey, hey, isn't this the part...

...where customers are supposed to show?

[/size][/center]

"Eh..."

A single finger tapped less than patiently on the fine, smooth surface of the countertop. Along the way, following up the hand to the arm, closely followed by a shoulder and dare I say it neck, was the face of Maria Vespasiano. An annoyed, disdainful face, framed by a well kept mop of orange hair, warning all in sight of the host's bored nature.

Yaaaaaaaaaawn...

An equally bored face, not two feet opposite the first, leaned back with arms stretched to hold the bored head. Giovanni Vespasiano, twin to Maria, and another bored host.

Both twins gave a passing look at Angelo, already dolled up for the customers.

They squinted. A study was taking place, a quick evaluation of the club's bossman. Head to toe, up from down, topsy or turvy? An evaluation, a grade to be made, a report!

One step, two steps, and the two were leaning back to back. WHAM went a pair of outstretched arms.

Vanni held out a thumbs down.

"Bunny slippers rejected!" he exclaimed! "Trying too hard to impress!"

Mimi raised his thumb high while Vanni slipped a small notepad out of his pocket.

"Food crumbs around mouth approved!" he shouted! "Provides temptation for the brave!"

Vanni whipped out a pencil and jotted down the food crumb idea. So doing that one later.

One notepad pocketed, the Vespasiano twins turned to give the big man his verdict.

"Drum roll, maestro!"

And indeed, a drum came rolling down, from back in the hallway where the bedrooms were. The twins owed that host ten bucks later.

WHAM went a pair of fists, each with a single thumb raised sky high, and a grin plastered across both twins' faces.

"Approved!" they declared with joy!

_{"That was a good catch with the slippers, Vanni."
"Oh, you're too kind! In all truth, I think your point was far more valid, Mimi."}

They shrugged. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaanyway..."

Vanni and Mimi themselves were decked out in typical Host wear, with the official "uniform" of the Room FATE's hosts fitting the twins' narrow shoulders quite well for a first try. White blazers seemed to be let a little too loose though. On purpose? Hmmmmm.

"So," Vespasianos one and two said with a furtive smirk, "today's the big day--- eh?"

Four trained eyes turned on the individual seated not to far to the right of them.

Teeth were showing as they grinned in unison, the faint smirks of evil grins beginning to crease their faces already as they tiptoed in plain sight for the aptly named Fallacieux.

Mimi, who knew some English, had taken to calling him Fallacy behind his back. Vanni had taken to laughing at this. After the word was explained, of course.

"Say, buddy..."

"Hey, hey, Junior..."

"What're your big plans for the day, hmmm?"

[ ooc: oh lordy here comes the twinicane ]

[LOUISA MEILING CHO]

What was she doing?

Louisa didn't know the answer to that question. All she knew was that she obviously wasn't thinking rationally, if she had been she wouldn't have gone to a club. Let alone a host club. She had came with the intention of trying to get a job but the idea of serving snobby girls didn't rub her the right way. Maybe if she had to serve boys instead she didn't quite know. But she idea of a job had been abandoned and so instead she picked her father's wallet and decided to go out.

Her hands were buried deep within her pockets of her coat. Lowering her head she felt the fabric come into contact with her mouth and nose, hot breath expelled and warmed up her face. It was cold, she thought to herself. Though of course it was cold.

Winter was cold. She closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose. Her dark hair clung against her face, she hadn't bothered to do anything with it because the cold weather wreaked havoc on it. The young American hoped she didn't look like a homeless person or anything. Or she hoped she didn't look too much like a boy. The edges of her jeans sloshed in the snow and they were damp from the snow and she was grateful that living in New York had taught her to wear boots on in oppose to sneakers which allowed the snow which swiftly turned into water get inside.

Standing very still she stared up at the mansion with a pair of dark eyes. Living in Italy had gotten her used to the grand buildings--though they still struck her dumb sometimes. Her boots crunched in the snow as she thought about turning around and going back home.

She could probably only manage to pay enough to actually look at the place and then she'd be broke (even more so than she was before!) and that wasn't good at all. Chap stick covered lips pressed up against each other as she sighed gently as her thin shoulders rose up with the breath.

What did she think was to come of it? Did she think that if she walked in that she'd suddenly feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet? Lately, Louisa had been feeling a bit down and she had decided that she should cheer herself up.

She wanted to indulge herself--as of late her father had been blah blah blah-ing about responsibilities. Even though he was the reason why she was so damn spoiled in the first place he thought that she should learn to stand on her own two feet but the job hunt wasn't going so well.

Maybe she just needed some good company and good food! Smiling she glanced back down to her boots and she stood there dumbly. Should she just walk in?

...What was she doing?

[/size]

[FALLACIEUX]

"What're your big plans for the day, hmmm?"

These were the textual words said to Fallacieux by this doppelganger flame in a voluptuous whisper, as they happened to bump in each other in the Host Club kitchen, Fallacieux entering, the clones in. The reflection of the afternoon sun, a dazzling white diamond with innumerable iridescent spikes quivered on the diaphanous glass of the kitchen window.

The doppelgangers, in their prissy way, had like to play practical jokes – jokes just a prissy tiny bit out of the ordinary, or so Fallacieux so prissily thought. He cannot swear that certain emotions pertaining to the business in hand – if I may coin an expression – had not drifted across Fallacieux’s mind before.

His mind had not retained them in any logical form or any relation to definitely recollected occasions; but he cannot swear – let me repeat – he had not toyed with them (to rig up yet another expression), in his dimness of thought, in his darkness of passion.

Fallacieux furrowed his brow, his arms tight at his sides. "I want to ameliorate the Host Club― I want to help everyone―"

Dearest Reader! Bear with me! Allow me to take just a tiny moment of your precious time! One might suppose that with all the blocks removed and a prospect of delirious and unlimited delight before him, he would have mentally sunk back, heaving a say of delicious relief. Eh bien, pas du tout!

Instead of basking in the beams of smiling Chance, Fallacieux is obsessed by all sorts of purely ethical doubts and fears. Now, what connection Fallacieux had with the doppelgangers beyond prankster and victim is a bit more complicated, the lines tangled over time, memory eroded away. But, for simplicity's sake, let it be said Fallacieux had something of an infatuation with―

(Perhaps too weak a word, obsession is better, along with passionate flares of intense envy, worship, and hatred. If the reader of these much treasured and despised pages becomes confused upon skimming over this account, refer back to the piece of the poem hastily scrawled at the top. It is rather difficult to use a hand charred and burnt, so forgive the handwriting.)

“I want to help Mr Angelo; I want him to be my friend. Look, look! I have saved almost a full cup of milk for you, nice and warm; it will help keep you cosy! Now, do you trust me? Will you let me help my friend?"

What he’s thinking now isn’t a train of thought but it’s a loud scream-yell that scrapes through his skull. Fallacieux – remember him? Stupid, stupid, stupid fool; and – is it something he knows, remembers? Or something less concrete than that – a click and then tick-tick and then the sound of glass and bone and splitting and earth up heaved. It was a short moment and it was lifetimes and the aftermath was eternal: now, here, right this second and all the seconds after that, it is and will always be the aftermath.

[LOUISA MEILING CHO]

Ho shit what the hell happened!

The door was kicked open and she all but ran off in that split second back to her apartment with her dad. The young American let out a loud squeak before she backed up swiftly and waved her arms. She would leave! She wouldn't loiter or anything! "I'm sorry! I'll leave!" she called out loudly in her soprano voice. "I wasn't doing anything promise!" Louisa was about to leave too however, she was stopped when she heard voice. Eh? Security didn't talk to people--not like she knew about it first hand or anything. Well, maybe she did but that was completely beside the point!

HUMINA!?

Security guards also didn't look like that. The tomboy blinked a few times before she glanced up at the person who was talking. A pale pink flush crossed her pale features though whether it was from the cold or from the appearance of Angelo could be debated. Gosh, he was pretty.

Well of course he looked like that! It was a host club did she expect a forty year old guy with a wife beater on with sweat stains below the arm. Jumping back like a deer who just spotted a wolf she let out a quick breath as it circled before her. Taking a step back she heard her boots crunchity crunch in the snow. Clenching the inside of her coat she glanced up at him once more and shifted her foot uncomfortably. She should have gone shopping for a new pair of shoes instead. But, glancing back up to the pretty male with a pair of dark eyes she smiled. Nodding, she stepped forward and released her grip upon her jacket.

Snow clung onto her shortly cropped hair, there were butlers all over Milan. Primarily because of the academy and she'd watched with envious eyes the better off girls with somebody that catered to their every whim. "D-Don't bite eh?" she questioned him. "How do you know that I don't?" Ah! There was that sparkling wit--after a moment of uncertainty she managed to regain her confidence. She had money {some} but maybe it looked like she would be able to afford like five minutes inside or so eh?

Louisa wasn't rich. She and her father were comfortable and they got what they needed however she'd always been a materialistic thing. Despite her trying to deny it she knew it was true. But who could blame her? Milan was filled with princesses and she wanted to be one too. Even if it was for a little while...And she had to pay for it.

Smiling, she meandered forward as she reached up to him as her ungloved thumb wiped the blueberry filling off his cheek. Sticking her thumb near her lips she let out a tiny sucking noise and kept her eyes dropped. Blueberry. "...Are you making crepes?" Placing her hands back into her pockets she stepped inside to meet her fate.

{Yay it's craptastic. <3 }

[VANNI && MIMI]

Vanni mercilessly shrugged and walked away. Mimi did no such thing, though he was grinning just as evilly.

"Eeeeeeeeh." Mimi scoffed at Fallacieux's very sad answer. What, were they short on creativity way up top when it was being passed around?

"Is that your fiiiinal answer?" the lone twin asked amiably, a grin of malicious intent spread across his face.

Vanni, meanwhile, had been listening closely to the conversation between the bossman-- Angelo-- and the incoming Louisa.

Ehhh.

Crepes?

Really?

His brows furrowed in distasteful boredom.

Where would the fun in the world be without he and Mimi?

"Oi, Mimi!" Vanni shouted over his shoulder, "Is bossman making crepes back there, or what?"

Mimi blinked. It was the massive, pulse-stopping, blink of despair. The moment when, unknowingly, the act of the minute was underway...

"Creoles?" Mimi asked innocently, still not leaving Fallacieux's side.

"Eh?" Vanni blinked in turn. "No, no, crackers."

"Crackerjacks?"

"Monterey jack?"

"Canadian charm?"

"Ah!" they exclaimed. "No, bossman must be making Lucky Charms."

A pause.

A shrug.

"Eh, I think so." Mimi replied. "Hey, bossman, how goes the Lucky Charms?"

[ ooc : I totally caught the Rainbow Connection in your sig, Louisa!
also, pitifully scarce post. >< Aaaaaugh. Museless in Milan, clearly... xD ]

[LOUISA MEILING CHO]

Ah, so this was why women went to host clubs.

The realization hit her in the face with the intensity of a truck. She wondered if maybe this was how the girls in the Academy felt with their butlers. Were they all treated so well? Louisa wanted to be treated like a princess too--perhaps that was why so many women came to host clubs to be pampered and such.

The little felt him nudge against her and in a cat like manner leaned into the touch before she made a small Cheshire cat smile. "I like crepes," she replied She was certain that crepes from France tasted better. Though who counted taste when they were being served by beautiful men? Laughing quietly, she did her best to keep up with him as she was led inside.

Sitting down she glanced over at the twins. They were cute too and they seemed like they would enjoy Lucky Charms. As Angelo took her coat off she smiled. Angelo. As he ate up one of his crepes her nose crinkled up as she smiled. What was he doing? Louisa didn't bother questioning it--if she did she'd find somethign wrong with the little fantasy world she was in at the moment.

Slipping off her scarf she set it along the chair and reached up to brush back the scarce hair that was along the top of her head. She didn't much like cold things let alone being cold. She liked it when it snowed. She liked it when it wasn't about to bake her outside. Though she was usually bundled up as well--unzipping the hoodie that was beneath her coat as she slipped that off her lithe being. She was wearing a white long sleeved blouse that ruffled along the front and the end of her sleeves.

Louisa smiled gently towards Angelo and the young woman replied, "Louisa." That was her name and he had given her his own name as well as the others--save for the twins. The young woman eyed the crepes hungrily--she'd forgotten to eat when she had left primarily because she still needed to shop for groceries. The Chinese girl purred, "May I have a cherry one?" Cherry was her favorite flavor and she wanted to eat a cherry crepe if not then she'd eat a blueberry one.

{Yay somebody got my reference! <3}