There's a young Japanese man sitting at a table in the bar. He's wearing a navy blue tanktop, an open black (unembellished and worn) leather jacket, and scuffed up blue jeans with battered sneakers ( Read more... )

The man who walks through the door is staring at the cellphone in his hands. "Stop beeping I can't even read the - oh, you've stopped."

He’s paused by the Bar, reading the many messages in his phone with a an intensely thoughtful (and confused) face.

No, he doesn’t know where he is.

When Quatre comes back from the Bar into the lounge at Chervil, he looks up at the wall-clock and quickly resets his watch once more ( Read more... )

Quatre has always been the odd one out. (It was, he'd say if asked, good training for politics.) He's the only brother of 29 (older) sisters, he's the polished wealthy young businessman with band of mercenaries, he's the pacifist in a team of freedom fighters engaging in high-tech guerilla warfare, and he's one of the anonymous faces of the war ( ( Read more... )