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Remember what?

...Or is that part of what you might remember?

I don't know. But there are gaps in my memory that I would like to fill.

Hypnotism perhaps?

With all these people knowing me.. and me not knowing them.. maybe I should join you!

Perhaps, indeed.

I'm sorry - rude. I'm Zachary.

Who might you be? I mean, if you remember of course.

Enchanté.

I am Renée Aucoin.

I took a bit of French in high school... ah, let's see.

Où êtes-vous de?

OOC: and to think I used to be fluent ;_;

*smiles*

Montmarte, in Paris.

A better goal, perhaps, than trying to forget.

I would ask what you want to remember, Miss, but I am not sure if that would be something you remembered... And I'm afraid that likely makes little sense. I apologize.

Oh, there are a great deal many things that I would like to forget. But I see no point in it. They are, afterall, a part of myself no matter how much I may dislike them.

No, you make good sense, Monsieur.

Yes.. Every memory makes someone what they are. And usually even the unpleasant ones have something pleasant attached to them. Best to learn from where you went wrong rather than trying to forget.

~~Though it would be nice to forget.~~

I hope that whatever you do not remember returns to you soon, Miss.

Thank you.

Be careful what you wish for. Remembering isn't all it's cracked up to be.

So I am being told.

Yeah, well. Good luck with the memories.

Thank you Owen.

I suspect I'll need all the help I can get.

And perhaps I shall forget.

You have something you wish to forget?

I have everything I wish to forget.

Not always a wise course of action, particularly when it can lead to trouble in the future.

I don't give a damn about the future. I want to be dead.

Then perhaps you should consider seeking psychiatric help. Death isn't a game.

Psychiatry? I'm supersane, Jean.

Of course you are, Monsieur.

Edited 2008-03-04 23:49 (UTC)

He raises his eyebrow.

...And I'm also super sexy.

Mais,oui. *chuckles*

Did I mention the Earth is a cube?

And I suppose if I believe that you have a bridge to sell me?

Well...

He flies away. A few minutes later, he returns with the Brooklyn Bridge held overhead...cars still on it. He descends down to to the ground with it, so that they are face to face again.

Going once.

Mon dieu!

What on...

They stand in the shadow of the massive structure, which bends down and touches the ground like a willow. He doesn't even appear to be straining to hold it, and little bits of rubble crumbled off the ends as cars drift into each other and blare their horns.

Going twice.

Jeanne seems unable to do anything but gape at the massive structure.

Oh, fine. He compresses downward, to where it nearly touches her head, and then explodes upwards without leaving the ground. The bridge goes sailing off, and a mysterious green beam of energy from his ring seems to carry it off into the distance.

*Watches as the bridge dissappears and, after a long pause, seems to have regained her senses*

Are you always so literal minded, Monsieur?

No, I just like to show off.

Hasn't anyone ever told you that pride is a sin?

...I'm a mass murderer.