Panic! at the Disco || Delancy Dwelling

Marianne paced around her living room, hands behind her back and her brown eyes glued to the ground. She was gone.

Did that surprise her? Maybe not. She'd always known that there was that chance that Bonnie would run. But without her? And without saying anything to her?

That wouldn't happen. Bonnie knew that the first thing she did in situations like this was panic. She panicked and blamed herself. She'd been doing it for years. When Destan had died, she'd blamed herself for not being a good enough friend. When she'd been attacked, she'd blamed herself for being there. When Connor had first appeared, she'd blamed herself for not realizing what sort of person he was.

And here she was again, panicking and blaming herself all over again.

It'd been the little things first. She'd went around trying to contact everyone who'd had a chance of knowing where Bonnie was. Each time, she'd get the same answer. They were as clueless as she was.

Pushing strands of straggly hair away from her face, she finally sat down on her couch, staring blankly at her conjoined hands. Bonnie had to be alright. She didn't know what she'd do if she wasn't.

"Lancey, Lancey, Lancey," Roul quipped lounging across a chair, appearing almost out of nowhere, having invited himself into the panicking woman's house, "She's probably perfectly fine. Found herself some pretty faced child she likes better than us to run off with." Roul was being cocky of course, he appeared to be joking, and in a way he was.

But he was worried too. He was worried that she wasn't alright.

He was worried that his joke was right, and she really had found someone better. Roul knew he wasn't much for commitment; first he had thought it would never matter, than he thought maybe, if he was lucky, Bonnie would be like him and understand.

But then he had started worrying that maybe she'd given up and found someone else. Not as good as him, of course, no one would be as good as him, but at least this one would be sure to stay around.

Having emotions was annoying. He wished he could get rid of them.

And the only reason he was dwelling on being replaced was because somehow that was less painful than thinking she wasn't safe at all.

"Don't make me force calming draught down your throat, because I will. I do think I'm legally allowed to, as a healer or something. Possibly even obligated."

She blinked up at him, dragging her gaze away from her hands. If she was surprised to see him there, she didn't show it. She'd spent her whole life with a thief. This was nothing new to her. "But you don't understand." Her voice was raspy and scratchy. She'd spent too long crying to do any good for her vocal cords. "You don't know her like I do. We've been friends since we were seven, Roul. I like to think I know her better than anyone. And the last time she disappeared like this..."

Marianne shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself as if she could shield herself from the memories of Connor and everything he'd brought with him.

"It was bad, so, so bad." She bit down on her bottom lip, taking in a deep breath to keep herself from crying again. She didn't have to go back to her crying phase of panicking. But oh, how she wanted to. She just wanted to curl up into a ball and sob. Either that, or go out and look for Bonnie herself. She couldn't stand the waiting.

"I don't think I can handle going through this again," she murmured, returning her blank gaze to her hands as if they held all the world's answers. "Once was bad enough."

She shrugged her shoulders. She'd taken her fair dose of calming droughts. It'd come to a point that the now retired Beauxbatons healer had handed her a bottle the moment she entered the infirmary. "I'd take it willingly, you know. No need for force. I've gotten used to the taste." Though she wrinkled her nose at the thought of it. Getting used to the taste was one thing. Liking it was a whole different story.

Not only was Marianne's panic getting annoying for the mere fact that it was there. An active show of emotion that was messy, a call for sympathy he didn't know how, nor particularly wanted to give, but it was also tugging at the part of him that wanted to worry more.

And Roul Bélanger did not worry; worry was a useless extra emotion that made jobs messy. When you started to worry, you didn't focus on the important stuff. Like what you are going to do about it.

"If you're use to it, then take it," Roul stated, tossing a small vial at the woman, "No offence Lancey, but your sort of useless like that. "

Getting up, he began to walk the floor, simple because the action made him think better. He had been getting antsy in the chair. Look what the other woman's panic was doing to him.

"If you really think its going to be like that," Roul still sort of had his reservations about that. Maybe he just felt that Bonnie could take care of herself, or maybe he really was just waiting for her to forget about him, "then the question is what are we going to do about it."

She caught the vial easily, staring at the little bottle in her hands. Shrugging a shoulder, she glanced up at the healer as she unstopped the bottle. "I've always been emotional. High strung, even. You should've seen me as a child." Lifting the vial to her mouth, she downed it in a swallow, grimacing at the taste.

Shuddering, she shoved the cork back into the bottle, tossing the now empty vial from hand to hand. Watching the older man do what she'd been doing just moments ago, Marianne brought her knees up to her chest. She could already feel the potion working its magic.

"It's safer to think of the worst possible scenario," she murmured. "You're practically half prepared for what you could find out." She bit down on her bottom lip, the potion's taste still in her mouth.

"What can we do? I've looked everywhere for something. Her office, her boat, places I know she frequents...I've used every spell I can think of to try and find something. And I've come up with nothing." Sighing softly, she looked up at Roul hopefully. "But I don't know, maybe there are some supersecret thief things I don't know about?"

"You should have seen me as a child," he quipped with a wide grin, "I would have hated your high-strung-ness more than I do now. Panicking does no good Lance, you should really try to remember that."

He continued to walk as he spoke, his mind taking all her words and processing them into something he could maybe work with. "You may think of the worst possible scenario, but then you must forget it; you lose when you get caught up on losing. Focus on winning."

Focus on winning. That was all he needed to do. He wasn't going to lose her, in anyway, to another man, to death, or to something far worse; he was Roul Belanger, and he was going to win the one only thing he actually cared about keeping.

He was going to win the girl he loved, even if it killed him.

"And what makes you think I should know about super secret thief things; I'm just a humble healer, trying to find his girl." He raised an eyebrow, eyes dancing slightly.

She laughed, the action relieving some of the tension that not enough cooking or taking care of various animals had been able to shake. "Now, now, Ui-sah, we both know I'm not always like this." If she was, she supposed that she would've been carted off to Furmage years ago. She shrugged, "It's my nature. Just like being confident and charismatic's yours."

Marianne gave her head a tiny shake, but still, she did as she was told. "Focus on winning," she murmured, closing her eyes. She'd like to win, wouldn't she? Just this once, she wanted to get what she wanted, and that was her best friend being safe.

She let out a soft breath, her brown eyes flickering behind her eyelids. Bonnie was going to be safe. She had to be. Now all she had to do was prove it to herself. When she saw her, she'd truly believe it. Blinking her eyes open, she tilted her head up at Roul. "We're going to win," she said, her voice soft but firm, determined and hopeful.

"Oh, she's your girl now?" Marianne raised an eyebrow, expression amused. Sticking her tongue out, her eyes glimmered. "She was mine first, you know." She smiled fondly, remembering when they'd first met at the tender age of seven. "Well, a little birdie told me that this humble healer has a little side-job." She winked, smirking. "Secret's safe with me."

Ui-sah means doctor in Korean. Got yourself a nickname.

Roul granted her point with a wide grin, "Yes, but my nature is far more enticing."

Winking her ruffled her hair like an older brother would - in fact he had preformed just such an act on Blanche to her mortification many times before - he turned on his heals and walked back towards a shelf, fiddling with things that he found there. He had to actively remind himself that it wasn't good show to let people see you pocket their things.

Beside, he was mostly just there to fidget anyway.

"See, that's the spirit. Winners have to think like winners."

Ignoring something that almost felt like a blush threatening to creep into his cheeks - Roul did not blush - he flashed a smirk over his shoulders, "Ah, but we already went over this Lancey; I'm more charming then you." Tossing the object he currently had from hand to hand he turned around to face her completely, leaning against the wall as he thought over their current dilemma, "Well little side job or not humble healer can't say he knows of anything."

Which meant there wasn't anything. In the thief world, very little slipped passed Coeur Noir.

"If you say so," she shrugged nonchalantly, though an amused grin tugged at her lips. A little pout forming on her lips as her hair was ruffled, she made a large show of patting it back into place, mock glaring at the older man. He reminded her of a brother, the older brother she'd never had.

Pulling her legs up onto her couch so she could sit cross-legged, Marianne watched her rifle through her stuff with amusement, giving her head a little shake. Merlin, her and thieves.

"You think like a winner and then you win. I see how this philosophy helps you live, Rouly." She moved her hands behind her neck, grinning impishly.

Her eyes swept over him, noting the blush with amusement, her grin widening. "And as it's always been, that claim's debatable." She sighed softly at his words, twiddling her thumbs. But had she really expected anything different? If he'd known anything, he would've said so.

"So back to square one," Marianne mumbled. Just great.

Inclining his head with a smirk he chose to ignore the latest person joining the 'Rouly" bandwagon. After all, emphasizing a distaste for something only increased it appeal - Roul should know, he was the king of doing what others did not wish him too.

"You're getting the hang of it. Thinking like a winner gets you everywhere Lancey, remember that." Panicking was like giving up, and if you've already given up, you have no chance of winning at all.

At what was the point to a life where you never won?

"Not at all, before you didn't know what I knew, and I didn't know what you knew. Now we're not at square one, but on the same page." He punctuated his word play with a cheeky grin.

Humming softly in agreement, she put her socked feet up on her coffee table, for a moment staring down at her Easter bunny socks. "What sort of crazy places has it gotten you into?" she asked, tilting her head up at the man.

She was sincerely curious. If there had been one thing that had constantly amazed her, it was stories about travels, either from her globe-trotting sister or from the very friend they were currently trying to track down.

Marianne let out a small laugh, giving her head a small shake. "And what page of the book are we on?"

Roul smirked at both her question and her socks - though the later got nothing more than a raised eyebrow and a shake of his head, "Anywhere I want Lancey. Anywhere I want. You name it - I can get you there, you can get yourself there too, if you believe you will."

Belief was a strong thing; it was in fact a message that his father had taught him, of course Daddy dear hadn't been thinking that his charming son would be using the motto for such underhanded means.

But what he didn't know wouldn't kill him.

"If you're looking for pointers though, I've got myself this amazing little villa," the man smirked and shook his head, "South of Italy, to die for."

"Well we are on the page that Bonnie isn't, and now just have to find the one that she is."

"That sounds like Neverland," she commented, grinning almost childishly. She'd loved the story of Peter Pan as a child. The idea of being woken up in the middle of the night by a stranger and swept off her feet to a magical world had never lost its allure, even as she'd grown up. "Or at least the whole 'clap your hands if you believe' part."

Marianne clapped her hands together, her grin widening.

"Ah, villas," she sighed dreamily, moving her hands behind her head. "They just have this nice, romantic feel to them, don't you think?" She grinned up at him, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "You should take Bonnie there one day," she suggested.

"Okay," she said slowly, fidgeting as she scoured her brains. "And we do that how?"

"Well we don't want Tinkerbell to die do we," Roul flashed a smirk at the woman, winking before he turned around. Of course he knew the play, his sister had been obsessed with it for years. "For a fairy, she was fairly good looking. And spiteful too. Just my type."

Spinning around he raised an eyebrow before he finally stopped pacing and leaning against the wall instead. One of her little trinkets was still in his hand. He couldn't stop fiddling with it only because he could not convince himself to not steal it, not completely. He was putting vast amount of efforts to keep it from going into his pocket, setting it down might be too much for him at the moment. "Is that a suggestive note I hear in that voice of yours Lancey. Who knew you had such a romantic heart."

"How, how, how," Roul raised an eyebrow to think. "Well, lets look at this reasonably. You have checked everywhere yes? Everywhere you can think she may have been? And there was never any sign of a struggle? Does it sound like our Bonnie to be taken without a fight?"

"Oh, I don't know about that." Marianne's tone spoke of a hint of amusement even as she wrinkled her nose. "She was annoying, if I remember right. Entirely too jealous of Peter and Wendy for it to be healthy." Grinning to herself for a moment, she tilted her head back to look up at Roul. "Was she?" Her lips curled into the beginnings of a smirk. "I never noticed."

Watching him fiddle with the magical snowlobe of her house that her half brother Xavier had made for her (though she'd added the magical elements), she pulled herself up and towards him, holding out her hand. "If you want to go on a - I don't know, a stealing break? Then you're excused." She gave a small nod. Marianne shrugged a shoulder, smiling softly. "What can I say? I have a thing for romance."

Maybe that was why she fell in love so easily.

She nodded along to his words slowly. "I did, yeah." As the gears in her head ticked, her expression began to fall. "You don't think she just left, did you? With - Without saying goodbye?" Could Bonnie have just gotten bored of them?

"Well you should look closer next time Lancey, might find something interesting," he smirked as he watched her move across the room, and towards him. His eyes followed her actions and the smirk grew as she held out her hand. Looking at the item in his own hand for only a few seconds, he let out a little laugh, and placed it back into her palm. There was a slight pang at giving it up, but by the mere fact that it wasn't all that valuable to anyone but Marianne, Roul would get over it.

"Oh Lancey, do you think I'd take something from you. Where you can see me do it? You must think I'm awful at what I do."

Finally he wandered back across the room and folded into the chair he had 'arrived' in. The smirk was settled into a thoughtful frown, not entirely pleased, but there none the less.

"I don't know what I think. I think she did leave, I don't know where, or why - she'll probably be back, she cares about you so she'll be back. But you should know her better than me Lancey. She runs."

"Maybe I will. She is blonde after all, just my type." Marianne grinned slightly, her thoughts turning towards Adria. Letting out a shallow breath at the pang in her heart, she gave her head a little shake. She just had to get over her. Curling her fingers around the snowglobe, she grinned down at it. "But it'd be the one thing I wouldn't expect." Looking up at him, she winked, tapping the side of her head. "Reverse psychology."

She watched the older man move, her expression softening. "Hey," she said softly, stepping towards him. "She cares about you as well. I know she does." He needed to stop doubting himself. He was acting like - she blinked, frowning slightly - well, like her. Collapsing back onto her couch, she stretched out, frowning up at the ceiling. "I know. Bonnie's a runner. But she - we've always run together," she muttured miserably. "She tells me these things. She doesn't just go."

In an odd move of comradely - something Roul rarely did. He did things better alone, always had - he moved to flop onto the couch beside her as well. Moving her aside with little care to make room for himself. The closeness did not bother him in any sense. He wasn't bothered by physcial contact - he just didn't need the emotional closeness that people often assumed needed to go with it.

Look where it had got him now? Doubting the one woman he had allowed in. He was in fact losing at his own game and he was having difficulty stopping it.

"Maybe this was something bigger. Maybe she had to do it fast - sometimes when you run you don't have time to go back for things that you forgot."

Marianne glanced over at Roul, shaking her head slightly but moving to accommodate him. Muttering snarkily under her breath that it was her house, she grinned sweetly at him, sure he'd heard her.

He wasn't Bonnie, but he was still a friend and a good one too. With Bonnie not here, she was glad to have him.

"Maybe," she muttered. Wouldn't it have been better that way? If she'd had no choice but to? It was better than the idea that she'd just left and forgotten her. "I just hope she comes back soon."

Roul merely grinned back at the woman, his expression the picture of innocence, as if he had no idea why she should be upset. Lounging back he let out a breath and began to relax. He supposed it was comfortable enough here - he might even stay for a little while longer.

He didn't have work - in either of the sense. And the only other person he spent a large chunk of his time with was the reason he was here so, this seemed like the best thing.

"Who knows. Stranger things had happened."