and away we go

[fleurid]

It was not entirely out of the ordinary, in the world Fleur came from, to open a door and find the door did not lead to where one expected it to. Or it hadn't been in certain places; Hogwarts had been rather terrible like that, always changing the placement of the staircases or throwing trick steps in inconvenient places, or so on. It had been one

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[red_ponytail]

It was her hair that caught Bill's eye first - that long, blonde hair, blowing slightly in a breeze as she stood on the dock. And for all that he knew of their future, for all that he recognised her immediately, Bill realised he didn't really know much at all about Fleur, this woman he was supposed to have married and had three children with sometime in his future, a future it didn't seem like he'd be living.

She looked a little younger than the last time she'd been there, for such a short period so long before, and he wondered if she'd expect him to be her husband or if she wouldn't know him at all. "Fleur?" he called as he approached, a smile on his face, cautious but not nervous. Bill rarely got nervous. "Did you just get here?" If there was anything Bill knew about her, it was that speaking French ought to put Fleur more at ease.

[fleurid]

The fact that she was near the sea, on a dock, had registered only vaguely next to the concerns of the lack of magic, but it had registered. The salt air was almost comforting, but not quite; when she'd gone to the beach with her parents and Gabrielle during the summers, it had been different

[red_ponytail]

So it seemed she didn't recognise him; he didn't think she had, at least. Possibly in a vague sort of way, but nothing approaching the familiarity the previous Fleur had displayed. She'd snogged him right from the off.

"My accent?" Bill raised a curious eyebrow; that had been a rather odd thing for her to comment on. Though, if she'd just shown up on the island, she was likely a bit disoriented. "I've been told it's impeccable. You don't agree?"

[fleurid]

"That's not it," Fleur waved her hand, a bit impatiently, her purse dangling on one arm as she stopped grasping it, as she didn't plan to smack the man with it. "Well, it is, but what I meant was that it isn't horrid. Your brother could not pronounce the names of simple desserts. He butchered the language." Speaking about something completely inane was helping. Sort of. At least imagining Ronald trying to say things in French made it impossible for fear to completely take over her mind.

Still - she couldn't exactly ignore it forever. And she would be damned if she allowed herself to behave in such a - silly, useless sort of way. She was Fleur Delacour - she had been a Triwizard champion, and she would not fall to pieces, even if the magic was gone and she was someplace odd with the brother of Harry Potter's best friend. "William, I do not think that this is some obscure English form of job training?" And yeah, she really didn't think so. But it was a happier sort of thought than her only other guess, which had to do with - well, with

[will_you_see]

Alcuin was walking from the beach, making his way back to the villa after having spent some time sitting by the water with his sketch book. He noticed the woman first because of the way the sunlight was hitting her hair, and then immediately after, the expression on her face. She looked lost, confused, which was enough to persuade him to approach a stranger.

He stood a few feet away from her side. "Are you all right?" he asked in lightly accented English. It was simply an assumption of his by now, given that the majority of the island's inhabitants spoke English more often than not.

[fleurid]

Fleur did not exactly react to his appearance in the way others may have; her mother's family were veela, were beautiful, and perhaps a little of the tension in her face relaxed at the sight of this boy, because he looked like one of them. And William had said she was safe, so - so certainly it was alright to feel a little more at ease. Or to be able to ignore the part of her that wasn't - because if she didn't, she was certain she'd start to think about things like how she'd probably never see Gabrielle again and

[will_you_see]

She was new, which certainly explained her expression. Alcuin felt a wave of sympathy, but could not help but feel a bit pleased when he noted her accent.

"You are - " He almost said D'Angeline, but corrected himself just in time. "French, yes?" And then he continued in the language, "You may use whichever you prefer. There are not many people here for whom it is their native tongue."

[fleurid]

"I am much better at my own language," It was clear, too, that she felt much more comfortable speaking it. "Oddly, I have heard it spoken more in the past few hours than I have in the past few days." Not that she was complaining.

About that, anyway. "And your name?"

[infathersimage]

The days were pleasant once again, the island's winter having passed mere weeks ago. This pleased the young Prince, for he found joy and contentment in the lush tropical climate. Though it was most unlike Narnia, he had come to embrace the island as a second home. It was Aslan's will, after all, and he would not deny the Lion, even when so far away.

The dock was a short distance away, a lovely young woman standing upon it. Not recognizing her, Rilian took care to keep a respectable span betwixt them.

"Good afternoon, lady," he said politely, an amiable smile upon his countenance as he greeted her with a short bow.

[fleurid]

Manners (particularly good manners) always won points with Fleur. It helped, too, that she was starting to feel - well, a bit less horrified. She'd decided to tuck away all the useless feelings for the moment and cling to the ones that didn't set her on edge.

So her lips quirked in a slight smile at the bow, although she was not, perhaps, entirely up to par. "Good afternoon, sir." Her accent was heavy, despite herself, and she settled for a sort of nod of acknowledgement. She had to admit to curiosity, but, well: he certainly wasn't from her world. Men didn't generally bow there.

[sortofaman]

It was morning, and the Doctor was relatively chipper, having had a suitable amount of coffee that morning. He had decided to go down the beach, considering the idea of possibly sailing, maybe trying to get a marlin...well, it was plausible, sort of.

There was a girl on the dock, though, and the odd bit was not that she was just standing there, looking out to sea; instead, it was that the Doctor didn't know her face.

He waved, brightly. "Morning!"

[fleurid]

People certainly were friendly here. Fleur had more or less decided (since William had reassured her, and she did not think he would lie) that she could set herself at ease about the people here, as far as she ever did amongst people (which was to say she was open to the notion that they were dangerous in the ordinary sorts of ways), so she offered a hesitant smile. "Good day." Her accent was heavy, and she tried to decide just what else to say. "I trust you are well?" Manners were always something to fall back on, at least.

[sortofaman]

The accent was initially hard to parse, and the Doctor mentally grew frustrated with himself at his sheer drop-off in ability level as time went on. "I am quite well," he said clearly. "And you?"

Accent...near French, maybe. He'd need more of a sample.

[fleurid]

"Ah...As well as can be expected, I suppose." Fleur shrugged. She was not wonderful, but she was not particularly horrid, either. She was not, after all, being chased through a maze by possessed wizards. Or being faced with dragons. And Gabrielle was not here, so she was likely...safe, somewhere.

So she had been worse, really, and that was what she was going to hold on to.

Besides, work had been dull and she hadn't been having much luck finding the file her boss had insisted existed (she was partly certain he was hallucinating), and she supposed she could chalk that up as a pro. Maybe. "There are worse things."

[butcivilization]

His thoughts had been heavy of late, but the day was unusually pleasant, even by island standards - a bit cooler, the air not quite so heavy with damp. Not being a man to waste such weather, Combeferre had been strolling along the beach, shoeless and collecting the odd shell or two that looked a particularly interesting specimin.

He hardly noticed the girl on first glance, but an absent second glance revealed that she was unfamiliar and staring out to sea so thoughtfully that he felt the need to pause. "Miss, can I be of some assistance?" His English was crisp and clear, but accented enough to make country of his birth quite obvious.

[fleurid]

Fleur was beginning to get the impression that everyone on the Island was from France - or that the Island had the great notion to send them all her way, which did not quite make up for getting her here in the first place, but went a ways to making her somewhat happier. She decided to answer, therefore, in a bit of a mix. Surely she should practice her English a bit, as everyone else spoke it so much better than she - and there were bound to be those who didn't speak a bit of French, surely. "Hello. I do not think I need anything as of now. William explained away my questions, and anything else..." She waved her hands a bit helplessly. "I do not think anything else would be possible."

[butcivilization]

She was quite pretty, that much was difficult to miss. Combeferre know naught about her once otherworldly qualities, but even now her beauty was difficult to miss. "Vous etes francais?" he asked, noticing the accent as well.He did not know what William she spoke of, but her lingering confusion, the vague uncertainty in her answer, it led to an obvious conclusion that made him grimace sympathetically. "Or we can stick to English, if you prefer. You have newly arrived, then?"

[fleurid]

"Indeed. I think I should practice my English, as I do not think it likely all of you speak French, yes?" Fleur, as a matter of habit, tended to assume people knew what she was speaking of without really thinking of it. Most people did, usually, or did not bother to ask about it - it was something to do with the way people had interacted with her before. She was, admittedly, somewhat self-absorbed. "I take it you have been here for some time?"