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The city was a bustling place theses days. Everyone had their place in the world, the fashion was taking off with expensive materials from foreign countries, sailors sold their boats for exploration and all around new strides were being taken in thee fields of science.

The world was finally starting to come out of its lagging ignorance, embracing the knew found knowledge that lurked at around every corner. And at the forefront in the science of the mind, was a young professional by the name of Eric Collins.

at only 25 years old, Eric had already graduated from two university's in the study of the mind and found himself here in London, beginning his research to further his field.
While his schooling taught him the current theories and ideas, he himself found that there were flaws in those ways of thinking, gaps and missing bits where there failed to be an explanation for some of the most basic of alignments and behaviors.

And so the young psychiatrist found himself sitting idly on a bench, the day, notebook in hand as he rushed to scrawl down note after note about the people passing by.
But thee observations were just Childs play, just the beginning. He already had a building rented out for his practice and soon enough he knew he would have real patients, individuals he could manipulate and shape like a potter with a mound of clay, yanking out every secret about what made them tick
Bustling streets, laughing people smiling and waving to any passerby... sickening. In such a happy area, Alexander stood out like a sore thumb, not only for his tremendous height, and finely tailored suit, but for the bored face lacking emotion of any sort, other than the down cast look on the rubbish that walked by and dare try to speak with him.

The French designer was here for a design expo, of sorts. Basically, talentless fools that made a name for themselves, or were trying to, came from around the world to put their designs on display, it was good for sales, and trade amongst other countries, but it was mainly useful for professionals, like Alexander, for the rare fabrics one could aquire.
He really should have hired someone, to come for him... perhaps next year.
But for now, the expo was not for another hour or so, so he casually strolls down the street, ignoring the pleasantries thrown his way, scowling quietly when a shrill voice of a pig (woman) would come his way, but ignoring still the same. It wasn't everyday he found himself in London.
Eric let loose a heavy sigh as his head fell back on the bench. All of this,while surely interesting and perfectly certain to give some insight to the human condition was definitely not what Eric was interested in.

Deciding to call it a day, he began to shove his book in his bag, fastening it and slinging the bag over his shoulder so the strap fell across his body. It was then that he caught sight of him

He was perfect.

Even without that melancholy exterior, there was something.. a disarming aura about Alexander that caught Erics attention. That was what he wanted.. he wanted to see the darker side, the obscene part of the human consciousness that defied the laws and morals of society. he wanted to know why

Hiding a half smirk, Eric squared his shoulders, finding a comfortable stride next to the hulking man
Alexander paid no mind to him... well until he got even the slightest bit too close to him. He tensened a bit, slowing his walk slightly to allow him to pass, and to see if he was just a stranger passing by, or someone he needed to show some manners.
The expo was a few blocks away though, perhaps that's where he was going as well, Alexander wasn't trusting, but he knew not everyone was out to get him.
"Hm, don't like a strangers company?" Eric asked out of the blue when he noticed Alexander lose step with him. I was odd, this man didn come off as shy and yet.. he was making sure an introverted move. But why? out of fear, aggravation maybe?

Eric followed suit after his question though, falling back along side Alexander once again. Well, to hell with blind observation he supposed, might as well delve right into interfering with him now..
"You must be heading up towards that gathering right? the one for all the top designers, those pompous pricks with the fine silks and busy pattered coats?"

he cocked a brow over at Alexander, finally giving the man a direct look. it was just a casual presumption, and easy one to make at that. The man was dressed fairly well, and he was headed in the right direction so it only made sense.
"No." He answers bluntly, narrowing his eyes as he walked beside him once again. "Yes. The Exposition." He corrects him plainly. Even in his short cold sentences, his french accent rang loud and clear. Clenching his jaw a bit at the description of the designers, though to be fair it was true... this worm didn't know that. "Yes, I am one of those 'pompous pricks', to be displayed. Now, do yourself a favor, and go crawl back in your hole." He spits, the accent of such a beautiful language turned so sharp and cold as he spoke in his low tone. His eyes piercing, before they looked forward again arrogantlyrics.
He wasn't in his comfort zone here... how he'd love to take these annoying specks of matter home, and see how lovely they looked in their own entrails... but he didn't have his equipment here. No stress relief...
Very aggressive, likes to make a point of being right.. corrects others.

Eric made a mental note of the response and gave a casual shrug.
"Now now, don't get you're pretty pink panties in a twist, I said they were pompous assholes, however given your response you seem to fit the bill as well, sir.

Hm, he was French... and in England now that was something unusual. but the fashion world was a wide one, and if this man was a designer then well...
Eric pursed his lips, thinking for a moment before he stopped abruptly and reached into his bag. It took a moment, digging around a few papers to pull out a thick card. it was plain, simple black lettering, but it was hand printed with the address of his new office.

"Fine, I'll crawl back into my hole. But only on one condition, I want you to come pay a visit. I'll even drop the charge for you." Of course that was risky, money was a big need for him right then but well, getting his research was more important then bills.
"Just to have a chat, mr..." he trailed off, waiting for the man to give his name
If looks could only kill, this man would be as dead as what was left of Alexander's patience. "Excusez-moi?" He snaps instantly, moving to reach out and grab this worms collar only to be handed the card, catching him off guard. He looks at it as if it were covered in filth, scoffing and flicking the card back toward his face. "I have no time for you, you insect. If you do not know who I am, then you are not worth my time." He spits turning away quickly
Even though he had merely glanced at the card for not even a split second, not long enough for anyone to have read even the first word, the address was memorized instantly, and the only clue to this was his slight mumble in French of "Stupide psychiatre." Meaning 'stupid psychiatrist.' Showing he had actually read more of that card then what anyone would think....

As he approached the door, the greeter bows his head instantly, having to be well taught in the top designers, who they were, and such. Instantly greeting him, "Welcome Mr. Chivilier. Your booth has been set to your specifications."

"For your sake, peasant, I would pray so." He retorts, obviously in a now terrible mood
He didn't know, he had no clue who this terribly interesting man. But that was fine, he would find out. It was his new goal now, to figure out this strange puzzle, this enigma of a man.

He frowned a little, and seemingly pulled the card away when it was refused. He was about to insist again when the greeter cut in, Cheivilier... now that sounded a little familiar.
Eric fell back slightly just enough to be out off sigh as he slyly slipped his car into to deisngers pocket. He had worked as a magician on the streets when he was younger, making a little pocket money here and there so his slight of hand was rather impressive.

"Well, cant say I want to distract you from you work, sir." Eric offered up one of his ever so slight smiles as he tipped his head and turned to be on his way. He had a last name now, and a profession, that was all he needed to track Alexander down
Alexander rolls his eyes at the comment not gracing him with another response. He had designs to sell, and competition to wipe out.
The exposition went well, Alexander able to make a rather large order with a fabric company, to send rare silks to his company in France, especially the ones colored in the dark crimson reds. Of course the seller wouldn't know, Alexander's work often presented those sorts of colors, because of how much they resembled blood... even if it was only a ruffle at the top, a flower on the belt, a choker with a ruby, red was usually present in his pieces. He liked to imagine the pigs that wore his gowns, actually bleeding from wherever the red was present.... imagine their screams filling the dead space of his torture room, their begs and pleads to let them go, then to merely let them live, the thought bringing a half smirk to his face.
Near the end as he pocketed some money for selling his display gown, husband face drops a bit feeling a card... He hadn't taken any cards today.
He pulls it out and his eyes widen a bit to see that annoying doctor's card... "That little bastard." He grumbles, shoving get it in his pocket for now. Perhaps he would go see the little brat, and teach him some manners while he was there...
The rest of Erics day was littered with drifting thoughts back to Alexander.
His attention on his work pale as he kept thinking onto the encounter, on how uptight, how well in his own the designer had been. It was abnormal in the common collective identity the seemed tp be infesting society.

Sighing, Eric tapped the tip of his pen on his notebook. Mr. Chivilier, who are you? The thought was nearly controlling.
He ran a hand back through his dark auburn hair in frustration as he closed his notes and grabbe dup the days newspaper which he had neglected to read that morning.

There in bold letters was the headlines announcing another missing figure, another well to do individual that had just up and vanished.
"Likely dead... seems there a lot of people going missing around here lately.." he mused
Alexander packed his things up for the day, checking his map for where his hotel would be, tensening when he heard a woman's shrill laughter, the beginning sounding so similar to a scream... he clenches his teeth, tightening his grip on the paper... not yet. Not yet...
He quickly walks what he assumed to be the right way.
After a while of walking, he stops looking at a street sign... it had the same name as where that man's building would be....
He didn't want to go... but if he didn't have something to take his mind off this urge, he'd do something hasty, and sloppy...
But it was night time, he doubted he'd be there, but if this was the way to his hotel anyway, no harm in checking...
He walks down the empty sidewalk, taking the moment to look around at the city. Everything was so much better at night in France, and here too apparently. Stopping when he saw the matching number from the card, pausing before knocking softly...
Lucky enough, or perhaps unlikely was the better word for it, Eric was renting out the apartment above his new office. not only for convince, it offered a cheaper price to pay then finding a separate building or staying in some rummy hotel, and well, when you were working to pay off debt from schooling, saving money was always an enticing option.

he was still skimming the new article when the knock rattled out through the empty building. Sadly enough, it startled the doctor and in response, Eric jolted a little, his eyes widening just a touch before logic came rushing back, reassuring him it was just someone at the door.

"One moment!" he called, not really bothered if he could be heard or not and slowly, he set his paper aside and began making his way down to see who it was.

And what a surprise it was. Eric never imagined he'd get that man at his door, especially not so soon. Maybe he made a mistake taking an interest in him, or maybe he was just.. lucky.
"Oh, Mr. Chivilier. I really wasn't expecting you. You didn't make an appointment." There was a playfulness to Erics tone as he opened the door slightly as a silent gesture to invite the strange guest in.
From your attitude earlier I didn't figure you'd actually pay me a visit. Is there something I can do for you?"
He barely heard the mumble from above, not making out what it said. After a few seconds he assumed he must not be there as he had thought, turning to leave, slightly relieved, honestly what would he talk about? He heard a woman scream, and got a sickening almost arousing pleasure from it, that he couldn't act upon since he didn't even know where his hotel was?
And about the time that thought came, he heard the door open and that man's voice, growling at himself internally for even bothering to knock...
"My word, it is real. I'm surprised it wasn't made up." He says calmly, turning to face him. Walking by, suddenly pressing his hand to Eric's chest forcefully, enough to make a man back up. His eyes meeting with his, "Keep it, this time." He warns, pulling his hand back calmly, the card from earlier fluttering in the air towards the ground.
He looks around the office, obviously far from impressed, compared to his rather lavish taste, this place was beyond dull and dingy. "So what is it, that you wanted so bad?" He asks simply.
Erics features fell into a stone faced frown as the hand shoved its way onto his chest and Alexander walked in. While he had made the subtle offer to come in, he didn't expect it to be taken advantage of so rudely. Then again, it was these small actions that had Erics curiosity burning in the first place.

As soon as he noticed the card fluttering to the ground, Eric broke to flash a small smile and closed the door.

"What did I want? I just want what anyone in my position wants." He knew that answer wasn't going to be enough to settle the question, but it was all he was willing to offer After all, offering up any motives for Alexander to behave differently would taint the results of the experiment.

"Now.." Eric shoved his hands into his pockets as he stepped around to lean against the desk on the left side of the room. It really was sparsely furnished at the moment, but it had what he needed. Two chairs, a desk and some bookshelves, a rug here and there. simple.
"I don't think we properly introduced ourselves before, if you're going to be seeing one another its only best we know who eachother is right?" he asked, his features blank. ' I'm Eric Collins, and you?"
He snorts a bit at the pathetic answer, "Most psychiatrists want a victim to cry on there couch." He replies dryly looking at him calmly.
"If that is what you want, I'm afraid you've come to the wrong man." He knew that's not what he wanted, but if he was going to give him that vague of an answer, that's the rebuttal he'd get.
"Alexander Chivilier. Don't hold your breath on 'seeing eachother' much. I am here on business, and will be spending my nights doing better things than talking to a doctor." He answers simply

Though he had to admit, the conversation was helping with the need for a distraction, even if he felt as if his tensened muscles would probably sound the alarms to the man, and cause stupid questions, answering would still be distracting enough...
"So you wont play my victim, perhaps you'd rather me play yours?" He asked, not leaning one way or the other, it really was nothing but a casual inquiry but an important on at that.
Eric moved behind the desk, taking up a small black noetbook from he top drawer. The pages were blank, and when a messy hand he started scribbling over them. Just a few words here or there, a note or two and then his gaze was back on Alexander.

"I do not intend to have you play the role of a victim here. Actually I don't intend to have you do anything. This time is yours to use with me as you see fit."

Eric offered a small semblance of a smile when he got a name, but it was gone in a ghost of a second. " Well Alexander, what sort of business brought you to my doorstep this late in the evening?"
He doesn't answer the question, only narrows his eyes slightly at it, if only this clueless ignoramus knew... but, if only to save face, he kept his thoughts to himself.
He sits in a chair calmly, posture perfect as always, "I was trying to find my hotel and ended up on the street."
He was guarded, short, and naturally stuck up. His eyes locking with Eric's silently
"Not a native to London then. Or at least you aren't staying here currently, you're from France originally right?" he asked while jotting the note down. I sounded like a pathetic excuse, but the wouldn't press the issue. Not many were comfortable with saying out right they wanted to talk, especially not to a doctor.

"Relax." Eric offered wih a small smirk as he watched the designer take a seat. " You needn't be so guarded. While you here you might was well just take a breath. You must be taxed from working that event all day. Tell me, did you do well?"
"I always do well." He answers shortly.

"My designs are world famous, as they should be.
And yes, I am a native of France, merely here for the exposition. Which is why it confuses me, that an English psychiatrist wanted to see me at all, especially enough to force his card upon my person." He snips
The echoing memory was slowly fading, he could barely remember what that woman sounded like now... it was just the buzz now that needed to wear, he could still feel his mind tingling from the thoughts that danced in it...
He didn't plan on killing while in London... but at this rate he knew he would...

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