* It is mid-afternoon on Monday, the third of May, in the year
eighteen-eighty-six.  Like many spring afternoons in Paris, this one is sunny
and warm, with the faintest of breezes slicing through the humidity this near to
the Seine.  Those paving stones beneath the shadow of Notre Dame's spires are
notably cooler, and as such they have attracted the attention of a great many
pigeons.
* The street in front of the cathedral bustles with activity.  A few pedestrians
break away from the flow of traffic now and then to step into the shade or
perhaps to enter Notre Dame itself.  One of the more notable pedestrians is a
man wearing a tidy brown jacket and woolen slacks.
* He is not notable for his dress, which is fine but common and marks him to
observant Parisians as a factory manager of some sort.  He is notable instead
for the curious way he cranes his neck as he walks toward the mouth of a narrow
side street between two buildings near the cathedral.
* He seems to be peering at something at the end of the street, and his
stutter-step pace suggests that caution is fighting a pitched but losing battle
against curiosity.
* Most other pedestrians ignore this man; what he does or doesn't do in an alley
is of no concern to anybody, really... but a couple of observers are in position
to notice more disturbing detail.
* Angelique is somewhere above them, drawn to investigate by the sounds she
heard...
* Omar is a youth dressed in well-cut blue and white garb crouching in the long
shadows generated by the cathedral, but across the street. He's crouched,
smiling happily as he feeds bread to the pigeons. When he notices the man's
strange behavior, he rises curiously, and moves to get a better view. It's
obvious that he's not a French native by his dark complexion.
* The curious man does not realize he's being watched, apparently.  However,
something deeper in the alleyway catches his attention and he hurries down the
small street.  "Hey!  Young lady," he calls out to the girl, who is well-dressed
and lying heavily on her hip as if injured.  "Are you alright?"
* Omar scatters his remaining bread crumbs and dusts his hands off. He scoops up
a handful of dust before beginning to head towards the alley entrance himself,
hands behind his back. Had he any skill at being stealthy, he'd try using it,
but he'll settle for appearing to be walking casually.
* Angelique observes the rough men's stances towards the curious man, silently
summons her bow as something feels wrong here.
* As soon as the man crosses some invisible line, however, a much larger fellow
in grease-soiled canvas clothing steps out of a shadowed doorway.  Two others
come around the corners at the opposite end of the narrow street, though they
don't move far from their position there.
* By this time the people would be all but invisible to most passersby, as the
long street has little traffic except at night, when people throw their trash
into it.  The curious man steps away from the girl and the two men he sees, only
to back into the larger man behind him.  "Oh."
* As the 'victim' steps away from the bulky fellow behind him, the apparently
injured girl hops to her feet and slips down the street and between the two men
standing guard at one end.  They let her pass without a second glance.
<Angelique> .oO(Samaritan ambush. Despicable.)
* Omar shakes his head as he gets closer, his opinion of the girl playing the
victim sadly confirmed.
* Angelique remains standing on the ledge for now, but silently nocks an arrow.
* Omar fishes something out of a pocket in his jacket, then calls out,
"Monsieur! Did you drop this?" He's brandishing a franc-note of some sort as he
calls to the samaritan in the alley. He skids to a stop when it becomes "clear"
that the samaritan is not alone.
* Omar actually has a very slight accent, though it's not easily identifiable.
* The large man, who almost entirely blocks Omar's view of the samaritan, turns
halfway around and peers down the alley at the boy.  "Hrrn?  Get out of here,
urchin.  This doesn't concern you."  The samaritan seems to think otherwise. 
"Oh, it does," he says as he tries to step around the large man.  "Thank you for
find--"  He is silenced and stopped in his tracks when the large man swats him
firmly in the chest with a meaty palm.
<Omar> Hey! That wasn't nice! He was just trying to get past! *tosses his
handful of dust at the big guy's face, and snaps his fingers under cover of that
action.
* Angelique draws and aims for the two ruffians on the other end, and will nail
their feet to the ground if they start forward.
* The big man--whose jawline is nearly lost in the muscles of a massive
neck--frowns and opens his mouth to say something else to the boy in the alley,
when suddenly he's swatting at his face in surprise.  "You little maggot!"  He
roars as he rushes toward the youth, but his roar only grows louder when his
trousers drop suddenly around his knees and send him stumbling against one of
the walls.
* The samaritan bolts past the large man, now completely ignoring Omar when his
path to safety becomes clear.  The other two men at the opposite end of the
alley cry out and rush forward to chase him...
* Omar semi-skips backwards, out of reach of the Biggun, snickering mightily. He
snaps and pointlaughs at the source of his amusement.
* Angelique draws the string back, then focuses on the place where the first
ruffian's foot will land in a moment, and releases.
* One of the aforementioned ruffians cries out in shock and pain as an arrow
whistles through the dank air in the alley and skewers his foot.
* Angelique draws a second arrow in the same motion and swivels to the next
target...
* The big man with sand in his eyes pushes himself away from the wall and
staggers toward Omar.  However, his trousers seem to have shrunk on his
legs--they cling tightly to his calves and knees, and drag him down until he
falls heavily on the paving stones.
* Of the two smaller men, one stops and stoops to clutch his wounded foot while
the other rushes ahead with alarming speed.  He reaches behind his back as he
runs and whips a butcher's cleaver from underneath his loose and dirty linen
shirt.
* Angelique shifts aim for the man's hand, or rather where it will be.
* Omar continues to laugh, though not as much as before, gaining control of
himself. Noticing the cleaver, he dodges to put the fallen big guy between
himself and the onrushing thug, giving himself a couple extra seconds to think.
* Angelique takes aim and lets fly just as the ruffian raises his hand with the
cleaver
* The cleaver-wielding man yelps as an arrow slams into the cleaver in his hand. 
Arrow and blade go clattering across the paving stones by Omar's feet, and the
man looks upward in shock.
* Omar also looks for the source of the arrow, trying to keep at least one eye
on the still-active foe, though.
* Angelique glares back at the man along the stave of yet another arrow,
centered right between his eyes in a none-too-subtle warning.
* The larger man curses and struggles to a sitting position from which he can
rip and wrangle his ruined trousers off of his legs.  The man who once carried a
cleaver now raises his hands when he sees a woman on a rooftop ten meters
overhead aiming an arrow at him.  The already-wounded man whimpers uselessly
near the opposite end of the narrow street.
* Angelique stands on a ledge a dozen meters from the ground, looking down at
the fighting below. Little of her is visible aside from the straw-blonde hair
framing a delicate face, and the bow in her hands.
* Omar does a *tsk, tsk* motion with one finger, snapping on the second *tsk*
* Angelique jerks her head in a "get out of here before I reevaluate my decision
not to kill you" motion.
* The sounds of shouts and whistles beyond the end of the alley through which
the samaritan fled reinforce Angelique's body language.  The unarmed man bolts
in the direction from which he came, and his companion with the arrow in his
foot does the same.
* Meanwhile, the larger man seems to have managed to tie his hands and feet
together somehow in his attempt to remove his shrunken trousers.
* The big man struggles frantically.  "Urchin!  Untie me before the police get
here, or I'll kill you!"
* Angelique decides now would be a good time to leave, and draws back from the
ledge after a nod of respect at the dark-skinned man.
<Angelique> .... Or not, when she hears that threat.
* Omar smiles back at the young woman, and winks. He then sticks his tongue out
at the big guy who made the threat, finding it less than convincing.
* Angelique will make with the vanishing before the police round the corner,
though.
* Those shouts and whistles grow much louder, and are possibly a city block away
now.
* Omar snaps behind his back, and whispers, "Mademoiselle? Would you spare me a
moment of your time?"
* Omar hastens away from the scene as well.
* Angelique blinks and would have missed a step if she didn't know this area by
instinct by now. .oO(...que?)
* The cries of the tied man fade when Omar rounds a corner at the end of the
alley opposite the one he entered several minutes earlier.
<Omar> *still whispering* If you would, please meet me at the Arc de Triumph.
I'll head straight there.
<Angelique> .oO(....)
* Omar does as he said he would.
* Angelique hears that whisper as well, weirdly echoed from the walls of
buildings below her.
* Nearly half an hour later, Omar reaches the Arc.  Though foot and omnibus
traffic around the impressive landmark are notoriously heavy, Omar had been able
to get a good look at the straw-haired woman's face.  So it is that he is fairly
certain that she has not arrived at the great arch before sunset.
* Presently the sky is darkening like a bruise--from orange to purple--and the
foot traffic along the wide streets that surround the Arch have faded
significantly.
* Omar shuffles his feet, glancing at the setting sun, looking less and less
hopeful. He sighs, his head and hands fading into the deepening darkness, though
his blue and white nobles' garb still reflects the fading light clearly.
<Omar> Darnit, I was _sure_ she'd be curious enough to show...I'll give her a
few more minutes... *muttering to himself*
<Angelique> * The fluttering of pigeon's wings is a near-constant background
sound, so much so that a deeper-sounding flutter almost fails to catch
attention, but then a light voice speaks from behind him, "You wished to see me,
Monsieur?"
* Omar whirls at the voice, and a bright slash of a white-toothed grin showing
genuine happiness appears. "You did show! Thanks!"
<Omar> Yes, I wanted to see you. First, I'd like to thank you for your help with
those ruffians.
* Angelique flushes, taken aback slightly by his enthusiasm. "It-it was no
problem - I acted as I always have."
* Angelique shrugs her shoulders, almost as if trying to dig herself deeper into
the blue-gray cloak that envelops her entire body.
<Omar> Well, that shot at the guy's cleaver was incredible. Really saved me some
trouble, I must say.
* Angelique shrugs again, uncomfortable at such praise. "It was-it wasn't that
difficult. He was moving very predictably.."
<Omar> As to the other reason I wanted to see you... my Steward has heard of
you, Mademoiselle. And had mentioned that he would like to meet you. My name's
Omar, by the way. *holds out his hand in greeting, slightly bowing*
* Angelique blinks. ".. Steward? H-heard of me?"
* Angelique - hesitantly - reaches out and takes the hand. "Angelique. Angelique
Dieuaimee."
<Omar> Pleased to meet you. *shakes once and releases, still smiling, though not
as wide as before* Yes, Mme Dieuaimee, he's heard of the angel with a bow who
saves people in need. And was quite impressed. As am I, I must say, by your
skill. Predictable, you say? I couldn't have predicted a shot that well...though
I'm no archer, I'll admit.
* Angelique flushes a bit. "I'm no angel..."
<Angelique> "Anyway, that cleaver restricted his options - the only way to use
such a brutal weapon with force is by striking from above. Which meant he would
have to raise it before he struck. You were his only likely target..."
* Omar nods. "I see... So, will you meet my Steward, please? He'd be so pleased.
I'm sure he'd even throw in dinner; the chef's quite good." ^_^
* Angelique blinks again, involuntarily doing a step back.
* Omar's smile falters. "Did I say something to offend?"
* Angelique is shaking just a little from nervousness. "N-no, it's j-just
that... I..." *twitchy, twitchy*
* Omar glances around, trying to determine the source of the young lady's
nervousness. "What's wrong? Can I help?"
<Angelique> "... I-I should go..." *draws back further*
<Omar> Why!? Please! Come with me...or tell me when would be a better time to
meet!
* Angelique flinches away, then suddenly turns, breaks into a run and vanishes
around the corner.
* Omar snaps his fingers in frustration.
<Angelique> * There is a loud fluttering as if she scattered a flock of pigeons
when she ran.
* Omar's eyes widen as he stares at some distant point in the sky for a moment.
Then he shakes his head, muttering in what sounds like...Arabic?
* Omar turns and walks back to his Steward's home, disappointment writ on his
young face. "Oh, well. At least she gave me her name...maybe our paths will
cross again."