Sylvain Jose Gautier (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ruinedsky) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
yumemigaoka2023-12-02 09:42 pm
ruinedsky) wrote in yumemigaoka2023-12-02 09:42 pm
Entry tags:
Don't we all want some excitement? [INTRO/OPEN]
⭐ Who: Sylvain and y'all
⭐ When: All December
⭐ Where: Various places
⭐ What: New DU employee gets the lay of the land
⭐ Warnings: will add as they come up
⭐ When: All December
⭐ Where: Various places
⭐ What: New DU employee gets the lay of the land
⭐ Warnings: will add as they come up
no subject
“I tell you, Sylvain, it’s working. Don’t let anyone tell you that bribery is wrong.” With that, he takes a hefty swig of coffee. For being up this early, he desperately needs the caffeine. “You can call me Misfire. Long story involving a gun, a bet, and an entirely forgivable mistake.”
At least, that’s what he tells himself.
“So what brings you all the way out here, newbie? A string of bad mistakes you’re desperate to get away from?”
no subject
As if a nepo baby from old money needs to be told that bribery will get you everywhere. Still, Sylvain smiles politely through the small talk. He desperately chooses to believe that this particular nickname came from a mishap in the dreamsphere and not real life.
"Isn't that what brings everyone to a new country where the primary language is different?" He quips playfully to try to cover up how painfully accurate that assessment actually is. Or will be, soon enough. "Is that why you're here, to get away from that whole gun-bet-mistake business?"
no subject
He relaxes, casual, elbow propped up against the countertop.
"No, I'm on the run for totally different reasons - which you'll only get out of me after five beers." Okay, that's an exaggeration; he'll jump at the nearest excuse to talk about his sorry tale. That's usually one drink. Thinking about it, he realises how many utter strangers probably know about what he's supposed to keep hush-hush. That's...not good? Probably? Ehhh, he'll be fine.
...And where was he?
"But, anyway, point is - you're in good company, loser. Welcome to the club."
no subject
Wow he isn't sure that's better, actually!
"Okay, note to self to get you into the beer fast at the next office party." He's kidding, obviously. Totally.
Something about a guy just boldly calling him a loser right to his face pulls a bark of laughter out of him. It hurts, but it's refreshing at the same time.
"Uh, cheers, mate." He says in English, with his full England English accent.
no subject
“Cor blimey, guv’nor.” He says, not only in English but in a shitty cockney accent to boot. “Came all the way from England, did ya? Now I don’t blame you for running off halfway around the world.”
He laughs to himself, taking a sip of coffee.
“You from London, or one of those places that’s called something like North Thrumbingshire?”
no subject
Sylvain snorts with very little real amusement. "That was terrible, I hope you never did acting work with that accent." He smiles afterward to soften the blow, though.
His own accent is very northern English, for a lad who says he's mostly from London, but most people can't tell the difference anyway.
"Oh definitely from a North Thrumbingshire, but we spent just as much time in London, and even Edinburgh. My family has a lot of irons in the fire, you know how it is."
No, Sylvain, he probably doesn't. Most people don't, you rich bastard.
no subject
Sure, he's got extended family in a country he never visits, but it's not really the same thing. He mulls it over for a moment, gazing thoughtfully into his coffee, before just coming out and saying it.
"You rich?"
no subject
Sylvain winces as though he said something terrible instead of rich, but it is a small wince at the least.
"I guess technically yes. My father is rich." It is an important distinction because, as Matthias loves to remind his son on the regular, if he ever fucks up enough, he will be cut off.
He shrugs, all casual about it. "Blah blah related to old pseudo-royalty bullshit. It's more about keeping up appearances and being in everyone else's business than it is about actual money."
Comparatively speaking, the Gautiers were struggling. But. You know. It's all relative.
no subject
Misfire stops him there, as if he didn't listen to literally any of the words surrounding that sentence. Or any of the ones before or after.
"Excuse me, your highness." And he does a bow, almost spilling his coffee, snickering all the while. "You know what, I don't have it in me to do that every time you enter the room. Thought I did, but my back does not bend that way anymore. Am I getting old?"
As if the caffiene has finally hit, his words come out rapid-fire. Relentlessly.
"So how does keeping up appearances extend to you ending up in this specific dump? I mean, don't get me wrong - the DU? Chillest job I've ever had. But, y'know, we've got people living in the walls."
no subject
His patience and sense of humor for all of this are failing rapidly. He's trying to keep a cork on it, but...
"You're definitely getting old," mumbled with a little sourness into his coffee.
"My being here wasn't exactly one of the planned fire-irons." Hence the you know whole ran-away-as-a-failure bit from the start. "It is a matter of international safety and security, though, so it's not like anyone can sneeze at it."
no subject
He raises his hands in the air, and does a little rewind motion.
"You can't just say the words 'a matter of international safety and security' and not elaborate on it."
no subject
He chuckles mildly, hopefully calming the other down. "I mean what we do here at the DU. Stopping Nightmares, protecting and training young dreamers. Dreamsphere stuff affects the whole world and Nightmares can cause damage anywhere to anyone, right?"