#the color me stoked from veronica is one of the times will says he's totally for real helping jack catch hannibal this time

[inklingofadream]

present torment: conjured visions of an nbc hannibal fanvid set to “candy store” from the heathers musical

[lousylark]

blue lace

Part 1/?.  Story of Seasons, primarily Klaus X Minori.  Special tumblr early release; will be posting the full chapter one at some point this week, but here’s a sizable preview.  Enjoy! :)

1.

Winter 31st.  Oak Tree Town.  4:00 PM.

It was cold.

Minori buried her hands deep in the pockets of her coat.  She had forgotten to bring gloves for the walk to Lillie’s house, and, after several minutes of exposure to the frigid temperature, her fingers were going numb.  

She sighed, the air leaving her mouth in a puff of white.  The Inn was only mere minutes away; she had just passed the bridge into Oak Tree Town.  Hopefully Lillie would have a fire in the hearth and hot coco ready for drinking — or at least a pair of gloves.

Really, it was something of a wonder that Veronica hadn’t decided to cancel the New Year’s Festival that evening.  Although it was officially the final day of Winter, it was obvious that Spring would arrive late in the upcoming year.  At least six inches of fresh snow still blanketed every roof, windowsill, and street lamp.  Ice rendered every street a “proceed with caution” zone.

But Minori had never heard of Veronica canceling any of Oak Tree Town’s festivals, let alone a festival as important as that evening’s New Year’s party.  The guild-master had decided early in the season to open the festival to the general public for the first time, meaning that their attendance numbers would soar.  The town’s heightened publicity was a result, Veronica claimed, of Oak Tree Town’s farmers’ hard work over the past two years.  

And it was true.  Minori knew that she, Elise, Giorgio, and Fritz had contributed greatly to the growth of the town.  The New Year’s Festival was a way for them to look back and reflect on their accomplishments as well as a way to look forward to whatever challenges the new year held.  So, as much as she would have liked to have been at home snuggled up near the fireplace with her cat and a good book, she didn’t mind braving the cold if it meant making Veronica and the rest of the town happy.

Maurice’s Inn soon came into Minori’s field of vision, and she breathed another sigh — this time of relief.  The building’s brick chimney spat out steady puffs of gray smoke, which meant that someone had heard Minori’s prayers and stoked a fire.  (She would have to thank Dessie later.)

A few snow-crunching steps later, Minori stood in front of the door.  Scarcely had she raised her fist to knock, however, when it swung open before her.

Melanie, Maurice’s youngest child and Lillie’s sister, stood in the doorway.  Her brown hair was curlier than usual, tucked neatly behind the band of her earmuffs.  A navy blue trench coat, too big for her thin frame, hung from her shoulders.  It was likely a hand-me-down from Lillie.  Melanie loved few things more than wearing her older sister’s clothes.  

“Minori!” she greeted.  Her smile was dazzling, all white teeth and shining eyes.  

“Hi, Melanie,” Minori replied.  Melanie moved to one side, allowing Minori to step inside the lobby.  She wiped her slush-caked boots on the doormat.  “Cute earmuffs.”

Melanie twirled a piece of hair around her finger, pleased.  “Thanks!  Dad told me to bundle up, ‘cause it’s so cold out.”

Minori tilted her head to one side.  “You’re heading out already?  The festival doesn’t start for another two hours.”

“I know!”  She sidestepped Minori, heading toward the open door.  “I’m just going to Lutz’s house for a bit.  Lillie’s up in her room waiting for you.”  She looked over her shoulder at Minori and flashed another smile.  “See you tonight!”

Minori barely had the time to utter a response before Melanie slammed the door behind her, pushing in a rush of cold air that made her remember the numbness in her fingers.  

She glanced at the coatrack and then at the door leading to Lillie’s room, debating whether or not to remove her winter gear.  She was still freezing, and the fireplace was in the kitchen, not her friend’s room.  She wanted to leave her coat on for a bit, at least until she was warmed up, but she didn’t want to leave a trail of melting snow and slush everywhere she went, either.

Eventually, she decided on taking off her shoes, her scarf, and her hat, but leaving her coat on.  She was halfway through unlacing her boots when the kitchen door opened, revealing a very flustered-looking Maurice.

“Minori!” Maurice cried.  He, unlike his youngest daughter, was not at all put together.  Rather, he had on a white shirt and a pair of rumpled black pants.  Wrapped around his neck were two different ties, one a rich blue and the other black with little yellow stars on it.

Minori grinned.  “Hi, Maurice.”

This was not the strangest circumstance in which she had greeted Maurice.  Once, about a year ago, she had walked in on him trying — and failing — to bake a cake for Lillie’s birthday.  He had burned it to a crisp, of course, and had proceeded to beg Minori to help him make another one.  

In front of his customers, Maurice was a very regal and kind man.  With his daughters — and Minori, who may perhaps have been considered as such — he was like many other single fathers: endearingly bumbly.

“You’re good at clothes, Minori,” Maurice said, gesturing to the ties hanging from his neck.  “Which one?  The blue or the black?”

Minori finished unlacing her shoes and tucked them behind the coatrack.  Then, she stood up straight and gave Maurice’s ties another once-over.  The blue one, she noticed upon closer investigation, had little silver stripes running diagonally across it.  But the black tie was more charming and playful — and it matched his pants.

“The starry one,” Minori decided.

Maurice’s eyebrows drew together in a look of severe concentration.  “Are you sure?  It’s not too gaudy, is it?”

“It’s the perfect amount of gaudy, Maurice.”

The Innkeeper let out a hearty laugh.  “See, that’s why I like you, Minori!  You appreciate my gaudy ties.  If you were —“

Whatever Maurice was about to say was interrupted by loud chimes from the grandfather clock in the corner.  Minori counted four tolls.  The Festival would start in exactly two hours.

“I need to finish getting ready,” Maurice said.  “Thanks for the help with the ties!  Lillie’s in her room.”  

Minori nodded.  “Thanks, Maurice.”

He disappeared back into the kitchen area, and Minori couldn’t help but smile a bit as she finished taking off her hat and scarf.  Obviously, the cold weather was doing nothing to deter Maurice and Melanie’s excitement for the Festival.  It was like Starry Night all over again.

After arranging her scarf and hat neatly on the coatrack, Minori made her way across the lobby to Lillie’s bedroom door.  She grabbed the knob and pushed it open, poking her head through the door.  

“Guess who?”  she greeted.  

Lillie was looking in the mirror, but as soon as she heard Minori she turned toward the door.  She was wearing casual clothes — jeans and an oversized pink t-shirt — which was a rare occurrence.  As a weather reporter, Lillie had the potential to be recognized on the streets by total strangers.  She was something of a celebrity in Oak Tree Town and the nearby cities, so she always looked her best whenever she was out in public.

“Hi, Minori,” her friend said.  “You’re just in time to help me decide what dress to wear tonight.  Did you bring a change of clothes?”

“Yep!” Minori shifted her rucksack off of one shoulder and unlatched the main flap.  Inside was a neatly-folded midnight blue dress and a pair of sparkling silver shoes.  

Lillie moved closer to look at the outfit. “Oh, it’s lovely, Minori!” she cooed.  “I absolutely love the color.”

Minori smiled.  She was rather proud of the dress — her mother had helped her pick it out.  They had made a day of it two weeks before, stopping by every major dress store in Norchester, which, due to the size of the city, had ended up being about six hours straight of dress shopping.  

“Thanks.”  Minori plopped her rucksack near Lillie’s dresser, but laid the dress neatly over a nearby chair.  “So, which dresses are we choosing between?”

“I’ve narrowed it down to two,” Lillie began, gesturing to her bed.  Two dresses were laid out on top of the covers.  One was a rosy chiffon, the other an emerald silk.  “I just don’t know which one —“ She paused, giving Minori a quick once-over.  “You know, you sort of look like Rudolph right now.  Can I get you some tea or hot chocolate?”

Minori’s chest deflated with a heavy sigh of relief.  “Oh, Lillie.  This is why you’re my best friend.”

Lillie smiled.  “Of course.  Come with me to the kitchen and we’ll get you warmed up, okay?”

Winter 31st.  Oak Tree Town, Elise’s Mansion.  5:15 PM.  

As far as festivals went, New Year’s was, by far, Elise’s least favorite.  

Her reasoning was simple.  Since the festival took place at the end of Winter, it was always cold.  The nature of the festival made her obligated to stay until midnight, and, for someone who liked beauty sleep and hated the dark, that was terribly daunting.  And, finally, it was a straight-up boring festival.  Who wanted to stand around in the cold, dark, miserable weather and participate in tedious idle chatter for hours on end?  She certainly didn’t.  

The harvest festivals and the animal festivals were more her speed.  After all, Elise was nothing if not competitive.  She liked the field conquests for that reason.  Of course, she crushed Fritz and Giorgio in battles for the fields so often that it could hardly be called a conquest anymore.  At least Minori had learned to put up enough of a fight to occasionally sate her appetite for competition.  

A sharp, tingling sensation just above her ear drew Elise from her thoughts.  

“Ah!” she yelped, her hand flying to the spot.  

Her favorite hair stylist, Jenny, nearly dropped the curling iron out of fright.  “Miss Elise!  Did I burn you?”

Elise winced as she traced her wound with her pointer finger.  “Yes, you did.”

Jenny practically dropped the curling iron on the vanity, taking little mind of the silver comb and the hairpins littering its surface.  “Oh, dear.  I’ll get some ice!”

Elise waved a hand.  “No, that really won’t be necessary, Jenny.  It’s vital that you finish my hair soon; I must speak to Miss Veronica before the festival starts at six.”  She shifted in her chair, causing a few blonde locks to fall over her shoulder.  “You’ve made no other mistakes recently, so I’ll spare you the reprimanding.  Just finish my hair, if you will.”

“Yes, Miss Elise.  Thank you.”  Jenny picked up the curling iron and started toying with the back of Elise’s hair again.  

As the stinging in her ear subsided, Elise's gaze locked on her own reflection in the mirror. Her hair was naturally wavy, but she still liked Jenny to curl it. It gave her the chance for some  introspection before the festival; a chance to gather her thoughts on how best to work the night's social activities to her advantage.

That was what she needed to discuss with Veronica.  Elise’s father would be running for governor that upcoming fall.  He already had the vote of the upper class. It was the lower class majority that he needed to win over, and the Farming Appreciation Society’s backing was surprisingly vital to winning that constituency, considering that Norchester and the other big cities in the state were surrounded by large farming populations.

Incidentally, FAS members would be attending the festival that evening.  Elise's mission, as deemed by her father, was to do anything possible to endear herself to them as a farmer as well as a politician’s daughter. If they wanted information, she was to oblige.  If they wanted a tour, she was to oblige.  Anything they asked for, she was to oblige.

Her father's politics were admittedly interesting, but sometimes it was exhausting to be his pawn -- especially when the schmoozing didn’t directly benefit her.

A few more minutes passed, and Jenny set the curling iron down on the vanity once again.  "There, Miss Elise.  All done.”

Elise narrowed her eyes at her own reflection.  Her makeup was fine, though a bit plain.  The curls in her hair were even more ringlet-y than usual.  She had a tube of lipstick that would match her dress wonderfully, but she was restricted to only lipgloss that night.  Anything stronger would ruin the innocent, almost child-like facade she needed to achieve for her father's plans to hatch.

"Is it to your liking, Miss?" Jenny asked, her voice growing smaller and higher in pitch with every word.

Elise gave a short nod. "Yes.  That will be all.  You're dismissed."

"Thank you."

Jenny scurried out the door like a mouse running from a cat, leaving Elise alone in the room.

She turned the latch on the door, locking it.  She hated being alone in unlocked rooms.

Her gown for that evening was plain in comparison to her attire for other events, but it would still cost more than any of Oak Tree Town's other residents' outfits.  Even Giorgio's designer fashions couldn't top her father's money.  

This dress was from Silk Country.  It was a gentle pink: easy on the eyes, but not unflattering.  It hugged her figure just enough to lure the eye, and the white lace near her collarbone matched her elbow-length gloves.

She slipped out of her casual dress and undid the clasps on the gown, slowly, so as not to risk breaking any of them.  Though she knew next to nothing about farming, sewing, like politics, was a subject in which she could claim mastery.  She knew the simultaneous sturdiness and delicacy of this gown.  Its lasting wear depended on the way the article of clothing was treated.

Moments later she stood in front of the mirror with the dress on, smoothing out the skirt with her hands.  She sighed at her reflection.  Oh, it was terribly plain, and she hated it, but it would have to do.  

It was 5:45 before she felt comfortable enough to leave her room.  The house was quiet and empty, likely because she had given her servants permission to leave work early and attend the festival.  She didn't usually allow them that luxury, but she supposed New Years’ allowed for special circumstances.  

She descended the stairs quickly, thankful that her outfit didn't include high heels.  If her dress looked plain, at least her feet wouldn't hurt the whole evening.  She had just reached to open the door and leave when she heard a voice from the front parlor.  

"Hey, that's a pretty nice dress.  Did daddy pick it out for you?”

Elise's mouth tugged into a scowl.  

Nadi, her landscaper, stood in the parlor doorway.  Their relationship had always been terse at best and absolutely vexing at worst.  He was the unfortunate outcome of another of her father's business ventures; Nadi's employment was a favor to one of her father's political allies.  

"Please," she said with just a hint of venom.  She didn't even bother to turn and face him.  "Spare me, Nadi.  I have many more important things to deal with than your petty attempts at clever sarcasm."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."  Then, as Elise grabbed her winter coat from the rack, he added, "See you at the festival."

"Yes," she said, turning the knob of the front door, "unfortunately."

The air outside was bitterly cold.  Elise didn't get excited about many things, but this year she couldn't wait for spring.  Snow in Oak Tree Town was beautiful, especially compared to the dirty stuff in Norchester — she could give it that much credit.  But spring weather was more her speed.  

From the raised grounds of her farm, Elise could see that Veronica stood in her usual spot just outside the festival grounds.  The guild master greeted every person who passed under the archway into the Trade Depot, but, other than that, she seemed fairly unoccupied.

Elise made her way down the stairs and into the main part of town, grateful that she was bundled up in her winter coat.  She was less recognizable this way.  Hopefully no one would stop her for a "chat" before she could get to Veronica; she found idle prattle so terribly boring these days.

Though she almost slipped once or twice on the ice, the trek to the festival grounds was fairly uneventful.  Soon enough she was within ten feet of Veronica — and what she saw there struck her.

“Hello, Elise" Veronica greeted. Three people stood next to the guild master, two men and one woman.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Elise knew she ought to respond, but she was, for once, so dumbfounded that she couldn't quite find the words.

Her father had mentioned the presence of FAS members.  He hadn't mentioned which members.  Standing with Veronica was the President, Vice President, and Treasurer of the board, arguably the three most influential members of the organization.  Elise knew them from the FAS magazines, letters, and television interviews.  She had never met them in person before.

Anxiety fluttered in Elise's stomach, but she pushed it down.  Finally, she raised her hand in greeting, and took several steps closer to Veronica and the FAS board.

"Elise," Veronica began, her steely gray eyes warmer than usual, "have you met the FAS board before?"

Elise gave a polite smile. "No, I can't say I've had the pleasure."  

"Well, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Pierce, Miss Holland, and Mr. Jenkins."

Elise shook each of their hands in turn.   Seeing them in person, she was struck for the first time how different they each were.  Mr. Jenkins was a jovial, hearty man.  He couldn't be more than two inches taller than Elise herself, and he carried most of his weight in his belly and chin.  Miss Holland was the exact opposite: tall and thin, with trendy red glasses and perfectly manicured nails.  She was the perfect picture of Norchester's secretarial staff, but rumor had it that the young woman had brains and cunning to rival most company CEOs.

Then there was Mr. Pierce.  He was the president, and every bit of it was reflected in his demeanor.  He was a quiet and honest man, but proud, too.  While Mr. Jenkins and Miss Holland were dressed in their Sunday best, Mr. Pierce donned a simple pair of jeans and a flannel shirt under his winter coat.  He was, according to critics, one of the best and most innovative home farmers of the modern agricultural age, with his net worth reaching almost as much as her own father’s.  Of course, you wouldn’t know that by looking at him.  Somehow that made him all the more impressive.  

"A pleasure to meet all of you," Elise said as warmly as she could manage. "I'm Elise Buchanan, in case Miss Veronica didn't already tell you."

Miss Holland raised an eyebrow.  "Buchanan?"

Mr. Jenkins' face lit up with a smile.  "Ah hah!  You're Todd's youngest, are you not?"

"Yes, sir."

Miss Holland still looked confused.  "Todd Buchanan?"

“Mr. Buchanan is one of the candidates for governor this fall,” Mr. Jenkins clarified.  "A very established man in Norchester.  I played golf with him once."  He looked at Elise and winked.  "A right legend at golf, your father.  Two hole-in-ones in one game!  How does he do it?"

Elise smiled, hoping that it touched her eyes.  "With determination and practice, sir.  And quite a bit of luck."

Mr. Jenkins laughed, a big, belly-heaving burst of joy. "Ah, yes.  Anyone who succeeds at anything needs quite a bit of luck.  So, Elise my dear, what is a princess such as yourself doing in Oak Tree Town, hmm?"

Elise resisted the urge to shoot him a glare.  She hated when people called her a princess.  But her smile remained unfaltering as she replied, "I'm one of the farmers here, sir.  I own the lot closest to town."

This caught Miss Holland's attention.  "Really?  Interesting.  You don't look like a farmer."  She paused, realizing her error, and added, "What I mean by that is — well, your dress.  It's made of silk worm thread, isn't it?  It's beautiful."

Elise was actually mildly impressed by the observation.  It was difficult to distinguish the silk of a silk worm from other similar brocades by sight.

"Yes, it is silk worm thread,” Elise replied.  “Thank you.  It was a Starry Night gift from my father.”  Not entirely untrue, but, considering the ulterior motives of the dress, Elise wasn’t sure the dress could be classified as a “gift.”  It was better described as an asset, or an investment.

Miss Holland opened her mouth to speak again.  She was interrupted, however, by a quiet clearing of the throat from Mr. Pierce.

"The festivities are beginning soon, I believe."  His voice was deeper than Elise expected it to be.  He was always quiet during TV interviews, but in person it resonated like a church tower bell.  

Mr. Jenkins slid up his coat sleeve to glance at his watch.  "Oh-ho, indeed they are!  Shall we?"  He offered his arm to Miss Holland.  She took it.  Then, looking to Elise, he asked, "Will you be joining us, Miss Buchanan?"

Elise nodded.  "Yes, momentarily.  I have some affairs to go over with Veronica before I enter the festival grounds."

"Then we'll see you later, won't we?"

"I look forward to it, sir."

The FAS members moved away after some short goodbyes.  Elise watched them go, her eyes wide with wonder.  

Once they were out of earshot, she whirled on Veronica.  

"Veronica," she hissed, not wanting anyone to hear, "what are they doing here?"

Veronica wasn't taken aback by her quick change in behavior.  After all, she had known Elise for almost four years now, and her father before that for more than a decade.  

In fact, rather than flinching away from Elise's sudden venom, Veronica's face glowed with excitement.  "They're here to select an agricultural representative for the Green Leaf Competition."

"The Green Leaf Competition?"  Elise asked, taking a step closer to the guild-master.  She lowered her voice.  "And what do you mean, select an agricultural representative?"

Activity bustled around them.  Tourists and town-dwellers alike were making their way through the archway to the festival grounds.  Some approached Veronica to speak but, upon seeing Elise's grave expression, turned away and disappeared back into the crowd.  

Veronica took a deep breath.  It seemed as if she was going to go into a long explanation, but then she exhaled.  “Elise,” she said, we have much to discuss.  Would you like to walk the festival grounds with me?"  She leaned in close, and added, "We'll find more privacy there."

Finding privacy in a public event.  The concept was not unfamiliar to Elise.  Sometimes she forgot that, as guild-master and standing mayor of the town, Veronica was somewhat adept in the political world.

Elise's ever-present frown transformed into a slight smirk.  "That sounds lovely, Veronica."

Perhaps, if she could get the right information out of Veronica and impress the FAS members, being her father’s political pawn would end up serving her directly after all.  

Winter 31st.  Lillie's House.  5:45 PM.  

Minori had just finished zipping up the back of Lillie's dress when there was a knock at the door.  

"What's up, dad?”  Lillie called.

"Uh, actually, it's Raeger."

Both girls brightened at the familiar voice.  Lillie bounded across the room and flung the door open.  

There stood Raeger, his hair considerably wind-tousled, his smile bright, and his cheeks rosy from the cold.  He had yet to take off his coat, but Minori could see a white collar and a red tie around his neck, which meant he was already wearing his chef's uniform.  

Lillie threw her arms around him in a bear hug.  Raeger was fully prepared for this, judging by the way he squeezed her so hard her feet lifted up off the ground.  They hadn't seen each other since even before Starry Night; Lillie had left two weeks before the end of winter to visit with family and Raeger had gone to Norchester on some restaurant business a day before she had gotten back.  

Minori knew that they hadn't spent that much time apart for several years, and she knew firsthand how hard it was to live without a close friend nearby for more than a few days at a time.  After all, she had left her farm in Giorgio's care for only two days to visit her family during the holidays, and she had spent every minute missing and worrying about her animals.  

Lillie and Raeger broke apart, and Minori stepped in to give Raeger a slightly less aggressive side-hug.  He returned the favor by ruffling her hair.  

"Raeger!" she protested, though there was a broad smile on her face.  She swatted his hand away.  "Lillie just finished curling my hair, please don't mess it up."

Raeger just chuckled, though he did remove his hand.  "Sorry, Nor."

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to Lillie.  This is her masterpiece, not mine."

Raeger turned to his childhood friend and gave her a sheepish grin.  "Sorry, Lillie."

Lillie smiled.  "I'll forgive you, but only if you stay and tell us about your trip."

He sighed.  "I can't, actually.  I'm a bit short on time, I've got to get to the festival grounds so I can get my catering equipment set up."

Raeger had only started offering his catering services to Veronica a year ago, but he had provided some snack for each festival since then.  Last year's New Year's noodles had been a hit.  This year, however, there would be at least five times as many visitors at the festival -- if not more -- because it was open to the public.  Raeger had been stressing about getting everything ready for weeks, Minori knew, because he had lamented to her every time she ate at the restaurant.  

Lillie tilted her head to one side.  "Isn't the company you hired for help supposed to do that?"

"About that," Raeger said, and his mouth turned downward in a rare scowl.  "The company bailed on me last-second.  Something about a conflicting deal in the city."  He dug the point of his shoe into Lillie's rug.  "I'm guessing someone in Norchester hired them for more money, and they decided that gig was more worthwhile."

"But that's rotten!" Lillie looked up at Raeger with eyes the size of teacup saucers.  "Why would they do that?"

Raeger shrugged.  "It's business, I guess."  He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest.  

Minori nodded.  "If the company wants to sacrifice their reputation for money, that's their choice.  It'll come back to bite them in the end."  

She stepped away from the door to sit down on the edge of Lillie's bed.  A thought occurred to her. "Raeger, if your company bailed, you should find some other help for tonight.  There's supposed to be a big crowd because —"

“—Veronica opened the festival to the public, I know."  He ran a hand through his already-messy hair.  "Actually, that's why I'm here.  This is a huge gig for me.  I need to make sure the publicity that the restaurant gets is positive, not negative."

Minori grinned.  "Ah, so you're here to mooch off our friendship and ask for help, is that it?"

Raeger sucked in a breath.  “You caught me.”  He looked between Lillie and Minori.  “So?  Think you guys can help me?”

Minori looked at Lillie.  Lillie looked back.  Minori turned to Raeger, her arms crossed defiantly.  

“Yeah, we’ll help.  But we want a free breakfast,” Minori said.

“On a Sunday,” Lillie added.  

Raeger frowned.  “I…well, fine.  I suppose that’s fair.”

Lillie and Minori high-fived, and the deal was sealed.

Winter 31st.  Norchester Train Station.  6:00 PM.  

Klaus Schultz was not an impulsive person.  He was, generally speaking, driven by methodical thinking and logic process.  He rarely let his emotions take control; he made judgement calls based on justice and not mercy nor vengeance.  

Years and years before, he might've described himself entirely differently.  But that version of himself was dead and buried.  He had been a new man for a long time.

It was for that reason, then, that he was so perplexed as to why he had convinced himself that catching a last-minute train to Norchester on New Year's Eve was a good idea.  

The train platform buzzed with activity.  Vendors, tourists, and natives alike flooded the station.  The moment he stepped off his train and onto the sidewalk, he tightened his grip on his luggage.  

"Well," he murmured to himself amidst all the noise, "at least Marian is easy to spot in a crowd."

The exit terminal was a short walk away.  Hopefully Marian would be on time.  The doctor had a habit of running "fashionably" late to everything other than his own scheduled appointments.  Klaus had always found him just a little hypocritical in that way — the one time every year that he was late to his biweekly appointments, Marian chewed him out for at least half an hour before proceeding with the normal checkup.  

Klaus lifted his suitcase onto an escalator step and leaned against the railing.  It had been a very long train ride, filled with deep thought and research notes.  He'd spent the week at a Perfume Connoisseur Convention in Redford, a city several hours west of Norchester.  As ridiculous as the convention sounded (especially to Raeger, damn the master chef and his infectious laughter), Klaus had gone with very specific intentions in mind — and he had not come back empty-handed.  

In fact, the fruit of his efforts was still in the breast pocket of his sports-coat: a small, leather-bound book.  Its yellowing pages were filled to bursting with handwritten notes about rare plants used to make 'magic' perfumes.  He wasn't sure he believed in magic, but he did believe in the healing properties of certain scents.  

The escalator fed out into the top floor of the train station, where family members and friends waited for their loved ones to arrive.   Klaus made an immediate right to stand against the wall.  He wanted to search for Marian without getting in the way of other outgoing passengers.  

He scanned the crowd for the familiar head of bright pink hair, but Marian was nowhere to be seen.  Klaus frowned.  He should have expected this.  

At least, he reasoned, he could read his book while he waited.  The handwriting of the author was so difficult to decipher that he had only managed to get through about half of the journal during the train ride.  

Just as he was pulling out the notebook, a familiar looking man started making his way toward the very wall Klaus was standing near.  Klaus regarded him over the top of the pages.  He was certain he had seen this man somewhere — his strangely styled gray hair, his unique golden coat, the poise as he walked.  Yes, Klaus was certain he knew this man, he just wasn’t sure how.

His suspicions were confirmed the moment they made eye contact.  The man gracefully changed his course; instead, he now walked over and reached out a hand for Klaus to shake.  

"You are Klaus Schultz, are you not?"  he asked.  

His accent was European, Klaus realized.  French, maybe, but there was some sort of Italian twang hidden in the taller vowels.  

"Yes, that would be me."  Klaus shook the man's hand before.  "I apologize.  I know we've met before, but I can't quite place when or why."

The man straightened his back.  His lips stretched into a lazy smile.  "You would know me if I were in costume, my friend.  I am Del Cossa; I have judged the fashion contests in Oak Tree Town for several years now."

"Ah, of course!" Klaus gave the man another once-over.  Yes, this was certainly the world-famous fashion designer who judged the competitions in Oak Tree Town.  The contests were never quite Klaus's favorite, but he still went to be supportive of the townspeople, particularly his friend Minori, who often entered her designs in an attempt to beat Elise or Giorgio.  

"It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, sir," Klaus continued.  He put the journal back in his breast pocket.  "I understand you and Marian are old friends?"

Del Cossa nodded.  "Yes, yes, the doctor and I have known each other for quite some time.  He speaks very highly of you."  

"Thank you.  He speaks highly of you as well," Klaus replied.  

Del Cossa crossed his arms over his chest and hummed.  "As he should.  I custom designed many of his clothes."

Klaus did not particularly wish to delve into fashion — he, unlike Marian, had little to no knowledge of the subject — so he quickly decided to change the topic.  "Do you have any New Year's Plans, sir?"

"As it so happens," Del Cossa began, "I will be accompanying you and Marian to Oak Tree Town for tonight's festival.  I returned from my European tour last week and I haven't seen Marian since before I left.  Our friend was insistent that I come to the party in Oak Tree Town."

This news did not surprise Klaus.  Marian had mentioned something about picking up another of his friends at the train station.  Del Cossa was saving him from forcing Marian to make an inconvenient trip to Norchester; Klaus was supposed to have taken the train back to Norchester tomorrow.  His sentimentality, however, had gotten the better of him.  He wanted to be at home for New Year's Eve, so he had purchased a train ticket that morning.  He figured he was rather lucky that Del Cossa was arriving in Norchester the same evening, or else Klaus might've caused Marian more trouble coming to pick him up than it was worth.  

A bright flash of pink appeared in Klaus's peripheral vision.  He shifted his gaze toward the crowd.  There, about ten feet away, he could see Marian making his way toward them, a huge smile plastered on his face.  

"Klaus, Del, my darlings!" Marian called.  His outburst won several stares from families waiting for their arrivals.

Marian gave each of them a hard smack on the back.  Klaus was used to this type of greeting.  Judging by Del Cossa's quick stumble, the fashion designer was not.  Surprising, if he and Marian really were old friends.  

"Klaus, good to see you again," Marian said.  "Del, how was Europe?"

Del Cossa nodded.  "Oh, it was quite a trip.  Europeans know their wines."

Marian winked at him.  "Ah, yes, indeed they do."  He grabbed both of their arms and started ushering them toward the door.  "Come, come, my friends.  The festival just started; we have a long way to drive if we want to make it before darling Raeger closes up his noodle assembly line!"