Always keep them on a leash (Phoebus)

[Claude Frollo]

For the moment it would appear that he was stuck here, and if he was going to remain stuck in hell, or whatever this strange limbo between the worlds was, he was determined to make the most of it. As he had ventured further into the town he had noticed that more and more people were beginning to arrive in this strange place; and with more people came more trouble. There appeared to be no system in place, no formal leadership and definitely no signs of any kind of law and order which was not wholly unexpected given that it was overrun with demons and other sinful creatures. Baldr, it would appear, was just the first of many, he had learned very quickly that more of that particular ilk was here, however he held out hope that there were others like himself here. Others that walked the path of heaven and knew the lords glory, that would assist him in his deception to the demons and their followers, and bring them back to the light or face the wrath of the lord.

What this place needed…was justice.

Which was why he had been surprised to come across a house of law in his search of the city. It had appeared around a corner in a manner that made him feel like it knew that he had been searching for such a place, that it had heard his prayers and provided. The lord did work in mysterious ways…

The building itself looked like it had not been open in years, large chains still wrapped around the handles of the front door, a statues of blind justice positioned on either side, ever unbiased, ever seeking justice. Walking up the steps to stand in front of it he tested the chains, they were old and rusted but were strong, too strong for him to break the lock by hand. If it had a lock, there must be a key…of course…what he really needed was brute strength.

What he would give for at least one of those idiot Parisian guards beside him now…

[Phoebus]

Life for Phoebus had never been better. He was no longer stuck in stinking barracks with a hundred other reeking soldiers, taking orders from commanding officers who didn't really have any idea what they were doing, going weeks without a bath, eating gruel and watery stew, breaking up scuffles between drunken soldiers and grunts. No, he had a bright room with a real bed, something called a shower which he had access to any time he wanted and which he was pretty sure was the greatest invention in the history of the world, decent food, warm and comfortable clothes, and no one telling him what to do. And if that wasn't great enough, he'd met his heroes, sparred with them, felt pretty sure he'd impressed them despite his uncontrollable word vomit, and somewhere not far away was a beautiful girl who he had pretty much decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Of course, he didn't know if she felt the same way, but he had plenty of time to convince her.

Yes, life was good, and he wasn't planning on returning to Paris any time soon - why would he want to? Why would anyone want to? These good feelings were the reason that Phoebus was currently to be found wandering through the town with a smile on his face, hands in his pockets, whistling a jaunty tune as he explored his new home. Of course, he still had his sword on his belt - he had heard rumours of some less than savoury characters on the loose, and he wasn't stupid. But even that couldn't dampen his spirits just now.

He made his way through the town with the vague thought of seeing if he could find Elaine later that evening, convince her to take a constitutional with him by the lake. There was nothing so romantic as a beautiful lake at twilight - and besides, he still needed to convince her to hire him as her personal bodyguard. He smiled at the thought, and as he came across a building chained and still looking decidedly abandoned, he couldn't help but feel the inclination to pass his good mood on to the man stood outside, who was looking a tad frustrated.

"Bonjour Monsieur! Can I help you at all?"

[Claude Frollo]

Frollo spun around at the sound of the man’s voice. French. Well that was…convenient. He looked him over, noting the armour that seemed almost recognisable. Was this perhaps a soldier of France? How very, very convenient. He only hoped that this particular solider of France had a at least one more brain cell than others he had come across in the past. His brother had attempted to become a soldier, their father had even purchased a commission for him and as with all things his brother had drank himself stupid and come back a failure…

…no…this solider definitely looked more promising…

“Bonjour,” he responded, “I think perhaps you can. I am looking to gain access to this building. Given the statues I am to assume that it is a house of justice and would very much like to see it open and operational as soon as possible.”

He walked down the steps towards the man and nodded his head, “I am Sheriff Claude Frollo of Paris, and if I am not mistaken you are a solider of France.”

[Phoebus]

He smiled as he heard the French accent; there seemed to be a fair few who hailed from his beautiful country here, he'd heard even the school's deputy headmaster was a Frenchman. He felt again that feeling of satisfaction at his current situation - even if he ever felt homesick there was no reason to leave, it seemed all he had to do was wander down the street and he'd come across someone from home after all.

Looking up at the building as the man explained what he was trying to do, Phoebus nodded, taking in the statues and the heavy chain. He was pretty sure, with the right leverage, he could use his sword to break the padlock and gain the man entry. Although he decided he should probably check the man's credentials first, find out who he was and make sure he wasn't some kind of criminal.

He was about to ask when the man preempted him and introduced himself. At the announcement of his position and title, Phoebus found himself automatically falling back in soldier mode, straightening his back and clicking his heels together, one hand on the hilt of his sword as his other crossed his chest and rested on his breast in a formal salute. "Sheriff Frollo, it is an honour." Phoebus said respectfully. He had, of course, heard of Frollo before - there were few soldiers garrisoned in Paris as he was that did not know the man's name. Although young, he already had a reputation as a determined, ruthless and ambitious sheriff, and Phoebus knew better than to show him anything less than the respect his rank deserved. It didn't matter where they were, whether they were in Paris or Trenale - Frollo was a sheriff and Phoebus was a soldier, and there were rules and protocols to follow.

"You are correct, sir, Sergeant Phoebus de Châteaupers, stationed in the Paris garrison." There was a big part of him that really didn't want to add the next comment, that didn't want to offer any form of allegiance or loyalty or service, but Phoebus was nothing if not an excellent soldier, and his training and protocol demanded it. "At your service, sir."