My Brother -Alex&Aisha&Max-

[JULIUS FORTESCUE]

Julius was an austere man. No one could deny this fact. He stood in front of his congregation, his face still as passive stone. He wore his Priestly garments, as he usually did: A pair of black dress shoes, black socks, black slacks, a black dress shirt buttoned all the way up, a white neck tab. Around his shoulders laid a stole, symbolizing purity and innocence. Forgiveness.

St. Mary's Holy Catholic Church was full, the patrons filled in the pews. Some watched as he readied his sermon with admiration, others with boredom. So often, it would seem, many would come merely out of guilt or habit. Julius did not have any grievance with them. They have not given up on their faith, and that was admirable. His cold blue eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Alexander. His precious brother, yes, that was the fuel for this particular sermon, the inspiration. The prodigal son. "Peace be with you." Julius announced, breaking the humming silence. He would speak with Alexander later, after Mass.

"And also with you." The crowd replied, robotically.

"I welcome you, to this house of God, on this Sunday morning, with the open arms the Lord inspires me with. For we are all the children of God. And he will embrace all who love and revere him happily, with these walls as his arms." Julius spoke loudly, his voice projecting so much so that all could hear, even in the back. He was a passionate public speaker, showing no signs of cowardice. The Lord gave him strength. "But what of those who are not so faithful, you may ask. What of those who have lost there way from the flock? Who fear they cannot return to the flock, cannot face the Shepard?" Though his voice was calm despite the projection, his face was stern. His clever hands, with their long fingers, fluttered around him as he spoke, throwing his body into every word he spoke.

"I too fear that they are lost to wolves. Believe me I do. And we must pray for these lost sheep, who fall pray to wolves. To hedonist and heathens and sodomites; to those who deal only in earthly pleasures." As he listed the wolves, his face snarled slightly, speaking each title as if they were poison on his tongue. But it calmed, smoothing over his handsome features. "And even these to, these people, we must pray for. Do not cater to them, and do not underestimate them. For wolves they are. But pray for them." He took a drink of water from the glass he had at the podium, clearing his throat quietly. "And for strength we must turn to scripture. More specifically, we turn to Ezekiel 25:17, which is a personal favorite of mine." He gazed over the worshipers, his face losing any trace of softness, and taking on an almost haughtily severe quality.

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men." Julius began, his words thick with righteousness. "Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children." This particular line, Julius thought, applied to him. He was truly his brother's keeper, and Alex was truly lost. But finding his way, thankfully. All it took was some gentle guidance. And Aisha, yes, she was lost. But Julius was sure he could bring her back into the fold. "And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers." His words went from righteous to righteously angry, his fist shaking at the the faceless strikers and slamming it into the podium hard, his eyes finding a pair of unfamiliar black ones (Max?) watching him. Julius took a calming breathe, and finished the quote, back to his calm demeanor. "And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee."

There was a tension in the air, as he stared out into the flock of worshipers, his eyes filled with electricity. He broke the staring contest, taking another drink of water. Sermons always made him thirsty. "We must all aspire to be the blessed men that this scripture speaks of. We must all try to protect our brothers, our sisters, our mothers, our fathers, our friends from these wolves." His tone suddenly became almost scolding, as he gripped the podium. "For if we do not, then we are worse then they. But Father, you cry out, I am a good Christian. I go to church, I donate my time, I raise my family with the highest of moral standings! NO! And again I say NO!" With each no he slapped the podium, nostrils flaring. "We must all fear evil men. But there is another kind of evil which we must fear most, and that is the indifference of good men. You! YOU ALL! We musn't simply allow evil to happen, especially to those we love most, let alone the stranger on the street."

Deep breath, refind composure. "Take this with you, Dear Hearts, if you take nothing else." His face was soft again, gentle almost. "If you will all please rise and join me in prayer." He rose his hands up, instructing them to stand, his eyes watching them all as they prepared to recite 'Our Father'.

[AISHA]

It was slightly weird to be sitting in Church during a service. Admittedly, she had just come to return the bible she borrowed from the Priest, and walked straight into Mass. In which she ended up dragging Max with her so she wouldn't be completely alone as an outsider. She hadn't been able to find God in the pages of the book, not that she was looking either. Mostly it was something to just block out the cold and rainy nights with. But she had finished it, and was going to return it--a rare thing. However stealing from something religious seemed somehow...wrong.

At first Julius seemed beautiful as he spoke. Aisha's startlingly blue eyes stared up at him from the crowd, and she felt a bit strange. Max would probably laugh at her if she ever said it, but even though she wasn't the religious sort--this was the one place where she could pretend she was a normal person. She had lifted a pretty strapless dress from one of the girls at the academy; the material was soft and wrinkled with a black underskirt that peeked through the matte and metallic layers. A casual summer-dress, but something nice enough that she didn't feel dirty and grimey. She also managed to tame her eld curls into a straight style that laid flat along her shoulders, and down her back. About her throat was the same necklace that Max had given her when they first met; it had become a symbol of their friendship, the future, and the family she never had.

As Julius continued to speak, he didn't become more impassioned, and ethereal. Instead, he became what seemed enraged. Something inside Aisha fluttered, telling her to get away, to run. An almost choking panic was clutching at her chest, while her fingers pressed tighter into the bible in her lap. Unlike the others, she didn't open the book when he mentioned Ezekiel, and when he asked the others join him in prayer, she lifted to her feet--simply out of respect, but her head didn't bow.

Instead she watched Julius with her wild eyes, her shoulders stiff. Her hand reached out to grasp whatever bit of Max's shirt she could hang onto with her fingertips. That had become a habit of hers over the several weeks they had been together. Aisha never let on that she was frightened, but in the rare moments when thunder cracked too loud, or she had woken up from a bad dream, she'd sit closer or hang onto the person that was the closest to a brother she ever had. She had even jerked away a few times when she found she had actually sought comfort by hanging onto Alex's sleeve. Aisha was the Mama Hen of the group, but there was a comfort in her that had come out, something that could finally relax now that she felt safe for once.
She drew in a careful breath, before glancing at Max to see if he would stand, and he was being painfully quiet thus far. And it was never a good thing when Max was too quiet.


Outfit: Polyvore's being a jerk. But this is Aisha right now. C:

[MAXIMUS PETULENGRO]

Aisha was a Wizard.

That was the only goddamn logical explanation that a hung over Max would be in a fucking church at seven goddamn thirty in the goddamn morning, listening to some self righteous goddamn asshole talk about how the rest of the goddamn world was flawed, when he was in a goddamn institution that was renown for bigotry and little goddamn boy touching. GODDAMN.

The man bellowing like a fucking banshee was easily recognizable as Alex's kin. Though... there was something off. And this was coming from a man who claimed a ferret to be his best friend. There was something about this creep that made Max's hairs stand on end. What the hell was Aisha's current fascination with him? He looked like an asshole. Instead of paying Mr. High-and-might-assfacehole any sort of attention, Max busied himself with stitching the starters of a hand puppet.

Why?

Because why the hell not, that's why?

When the hell were they suppose to be getting to the blood of Christ nonsense? That would take the edge off the hangover. Yawning boredly, he focused on the puppet, deciding to make an angry little Priest, with blond string hair and angry blue eyes. Max was a handy little Jack of all trades. Construction, mending, et cetra, et cetra. You had to be when you lived the life style that he and Aisha did.

Aisha, what a funny creature she was. Like a sister, almost. Or, at least, what Max could imagine one was like. Bossy, but indulged, mother henning the shit out of him. But sweet, in her way. Almost naive, despite being hardened to the ways of the world. And of course she had to be hard on Alex.

Alex, another intrigue that had happened upon Max's life. Max's angel; adorable, stubborn, easily flustered. He carried himself as one would expect from a person who usually had swagger for days. Of course, Max would put on his Max charm, and the swagger would fall right out of the boys back pocket. He liked that fellow, Max did. Perhaps more than his usual flings, though he wasn't at the point of raising sheep with him in Vermont. Just.... protective. And maybe a tiny bit possessive. Eh, whatever.

As the Priest man quoted some line, Max looked up, smirking defiently. Though he was ninety nine point nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine percent sure that Priest man had zero idea of Max's existence, he still took a little pride in the idea that that could be meant for him. For a split second, Max thought they made eye contact. But that was unlikely.

As he filled in the eyes with the blue thread, Father Doucheface asked for the sheeple (geddit? Sheep plus people!) to stand and recite some nonsense that they think will send them up to cloudland where they'd be serenaded by naked winged babies. Too each there own, Max supposed.

He stayed seated.

Because, seriously? All sorts of fuck that.

"This is stupid. You owe me Blue, you fucking Wizard." He muttered, knotting the left eye and inspecting it. It was a rather good likeness, he thought, starting the angry eyebrows.

[ALEXANDER FORTESCUE]

This was the last, last, LAST place Alex wanted to be.

There were a million other places he could imagine being. He could be down in those abandoned sewers with Max...and Aisha, yeah, but preferably just him and Max. Max...yeah...he'd rather be anywhere with Max right now, it didn't even matter if it was the sewers or somewhere else. Those dark eyes were a comfort to him...hell, Max was a comfort to him. He'd felt kind of...lost before - and maybe he still was - and...

Fuck, no, this was sounding way too cheesy and he was just going to stop now. What the hell was he, a lovestruck teenager? Hell no. He was Alexander fucking Fortescue, and he didn't do shit like that.

A-anyway, thinking about another man in that way in his brother's church--

Wait a second, since when had he cared about pissing off his brother, anyway?

He glanced over at Aisha and Max, and he felt a surge of self-consciousness. Here he was, all dolled up for the occasion (he put on a good show for his brother; he WANTED that car), and...he looked like a prat. A fucking prat. What would they think of him? Aisha already thought he was an outsider...b-but no, that had changed a bit, right? She accepted him...a bit more. Right? So he had no reason to be self-conscious.

...but did they think he was an impostor? An outsider? Did Max think that?

The thought made him cringe. He sank farther down in his seat, trying to make himself as small and unobtrusive as possible.

At this very moment, he just wanted to disappear.

He glanced up halfheartedly as his brother instructed the gathered worshipers to stand, and he got to his feet reluctantly, relieved that he seemed to be fairly short in comparison to those standing around him.

Come on, Alex, he doesn't think that about you...h-he doesn't think that...he's stuck up for you!

He peered at Max over Aisha's shoulder and had to suppress a giggle as he saw the puppet he was crafting. Spitting image of his brother, it was - how had he gotten the materials for that in here, anyway? ...well, it was Max, so why even ask?

Alex knew the 'Our Father' prayer by heart after years of Catholic education, and he recited it kind of grudgingly under his breath, his heart not really in it. His heart wasn't in any of this. Not really. He just had to keep up appearances.

[JULIUS FORTESCUE]

It echoed through the church, music to Julius's ears. The Lord's Prayer. Beautiful. Archaic. Pious.

"Our Father who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us,
and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory,
for ever and ever."

The rest of the service went off without a hitch, Julius's animated preaching abilities shining through. It would be obvious to anyone gazing upon this scene that he was passionate about it. Especially the bits about God's wrath. Nothing quite lit the fire under Father Julius like his recounting the raining sulfur of Sodom and Gomorrah. Nothing brightened his eyes more than recounting Leviticus. God's wrath was such an understated part of the Lord's work nowadays, what with this new politically correct following that had taken hold.

Not that Julius had anything to do with that touchy feely, you're not perfect - I'm not perfect - but that's okay crap. No! For the very sake of the souls of his parishioners, he had to tell them the truth.

Sinner's were doomed to burn.

The repentant, however, would go to heaven. Would be embraced by God's love.

And so, as would happen, Julius wrapped it up, and the service came to a conclusion. The church goers came and shook his hands, complimenting his sermon, making pleasantries. Julius nodded and smiled, shaking hands and excepting cookies and what have you. But his eyes, his unnerving pale blue eyes, searched for his little brother. And they found him, standing with...

Aisha?

This startled Julius, for a multitude of reasons. Jealousy, suspicion, judgment. But... she was in church. She was a repentant, just like Alexander. And they had brought a friend.

Approaching them, Father Julius kissed Alexander on his cheeks in greeting, as was the french fashion. "Little brother, how good it is to have you here." His words were rimmed with glowing pride and affection at his brother's seemingly seamless turn around. "And Aisha!" Julius greeted, taking her hands fondly. "I see you found your way back. How wonderful." She looked truly stunning today. But then, she had when they had met last as well. Julius's eyes went over to the stranger, who was scruffy in appearance. It would seem he had not put the least bit of effort into his appearance, as Aisha had. Stiffening a little, Julius greeted him none the less. "And a knew face as well. Welcome friend." Holding out his hand, Julius could not help but wonder if the vagrants hands were even clean to touch.

[AISHA]

The Lord's Prayer didn't mean much to her. She didn't understand it, it was familiar; but it held no depth, no warmth. When she looked down again at Max, who didn't stand, she hunched over for a second, her hand clamping over her mouth to stifle the laugh that almost burst out of her. Leave it to Max to find something to occupy his time with. Which gave her an idea. She leaned down for just a moment, and whispered in Max's ear, "Puppet show in the Court. And lunch. You, Alex, me. Your choice." Bribery. Never failed.

The service was over, and Julius was greeting them like they were old friends. For some reason, this disturbed Aisha. And when he took her hands, she sucked in a short gasp. To her, his hands felt like ice, and her blood seemed to crawl under her skin, shrinking away from his touch. Slowly, she pulled her hands from his, and smiled, brushing it off as nerves. "Actually, I came back cause of this." She turned quickly, and leaned over, nudging Max to the side and pulled the loaned bible from the seat, and held it towards Julius. "Wanted to bring it back." She said shortly; she was all smiled. But something was making her feel a bit dizzy, and her feet itched--like they just wanted to flee as far away as possible. In reaction, Aisha shifted her body, leaning ever so slightly towards Max. She yanked on his shirt, trying to make sure he was paying attention. "My brother, Max." Aisha introduced, unable to look Julius in his eyes.

They're cruel eyes, sister. The blue-eyed devil. Came a small echo from the back of her mind. The voice was heavily accented in French, and didn't hold the same pitch as Aisha's.

She rubbed her forehead for a moment, before straightening up, and glancing back at Alex. She had almost forgotten he was here. She had sort of tuned him out. She couldn't judge him for the way he was dressed; after all, how many times did Aisha get gussied up to go somewhere? "Lovely service, Father." Of couse it was a lie, it bored her to tears, and she didn't understand half of what he said. She kept her head down, and rubbed her arms to rub out the chill that had nothing to do with temperature.

[MAXIMUS PETULENGRO]

Max had completed his puppet by the end of the horribly, dreadfully, incessantly, FUCKING, GOD DAMN, LONG ASS speech thingymajegger. What were they called? Sermons or some shit. They should be called 'Those things that make Max want to cave out the back of his head with a rusty spoon jiggers'. Kind of rolls off the tongue.

FINALLY, it was over. Max was one of the first on his feet, anxious to leave. Nothing about churches sat right with him. They weren't pretty. They were fucking creepy. There was something so confining about them, especially the old ones. It smelled like old people constantly. And there was something quite unsettling about that wholesome-fun-for-the-family-nailed-to-a-couple-of-two-by-fours-Jesus up front. Also, incense made his nose burn. But, before Max could venture too far, the Ringleader of this Fire and Brimstone Circus approached. Max's first assumption of the man was spot on. He was obviously related to Alex. The blue eyes, the fair hair, the jaw, even the complexion. But there was something... inky about him.

First he came to Alex, kissing his cheek all Europeany. Right on, made sense, as they were a couple Frogs. Still, Max couldn't help the prickle he felt at the touching. He did not like when inky people touched his... whatever Alex's official title was with Max. Gentlemen friend. Whatever. And then he took Aisha's hands, and Max saw how she instantly became demure. Almost submissive. Like when an Omega wolf approached the Alpha. Eyes down, tail placed politely between the legs. And then it was Max's turn.

Oh.

Joy.

He stared at the Priest's hand for a moment, and only a moment, before Aisha tugged him closer. Grinning, especially at being introduced as her Brother, he put out his hand, which he had 'forgotten' still bore the little angry priest puppet. Playing sheepish, Max shot Alex a impish grin, hiding the little puppet in one of his pockets quickly, before giving Father Julius a very firm handshake.

A handshake that said: Don't touch mine, and I'll let you keep yours.

"Lovely indeed!" Max gushed, a little over the top, enunciating a bit too much. "Very rousing. I bet it really calls out to the younger crowds, all that." Pulling his hand back, Max gave the Priest a cocky smirk. "That old tobacco company technique, right? Grab 'em while they're young!" Letting out a thick laugh, Max gave the stately man a playful bat on the arm. "Hell, if only you had their numbers, ammirite? Though... perhaps not too young..." His tone and face said joking, but Max's eyes stared at Julius's blue pits of doom as if sizing him up, trying to see how he'd react.

It really took a special sort of someone to try and piss off a Priest.

But honestly, could he be more creepy?

Throwing his arm around Alex's shoulders in a very bro-like manner, Max smirked at the priest, his gaze saying in a very conversational voice: You're move.

[ALEXANDER FORTESCUE]

"Little brother, how good it is to have you here."

And here came the pretending.

How much, he wondered, could he fake being a goody goody two-shoes church boy with his truant friends here with him? Sure, he hadn't gotten too much mocking for getting dressed up - Aisha was more dressed up than he'd ever seen her, in fact, and she looked nice, sure - but now he had to act the part. And around Max.

This concerned him. It was more than clear, just from watching Max, that he regarded the entirety of this...church business as poppycock and bullshit. And Alex was okay with that. Hell, he didn't even really believe in this stuff - he was doing this for a car. And...to save his relationship with his brother. But mostly the car.

He took a deep breath, kissing his brother on the cheeks in return. It was a natural greeting to him now, albeit one he did not use nearly as often in the United States. "Bonjour, mon frère," he greeted quietly in French, mustering a smile. He was trying desperately not to let it show on his face how stressful the collision of his two very separate worlds really was.

When it came down to it, he wondered, would he choose luxury and comfort, or adventure...and Max?

He caught the impish grin Max flashed him and watched him put away the puppet with a note of amusement. His eyes flitted from his brother to his...lover (it was a good enough term) as they shook hands, and he tried not to seem too jittery.

"Lovely indeed! Very rousing. I bet it really calls out to the younger crowds, all that." Oh, boy, here he went. Alex was caught between hiding his face in his hands and laughing his ass off. "That old tobacco company technique, right? Grab 'em while they're young!" Ohohoho, Jules was not going to like this. "Hell, if only you had their numbers, ammirite? Though... perhaps not too young..."

Alex was trying incredibly hard not to snicker.

He felt his face flush a little as Max threw an arm around his shoulder, but he kept his eyes low, unable to look his brother in the face.

[JULIUS FORTESCUE]

Alex greeted him with a quietness that suggested he had things on his mind. Judging by his last report card, Julius sincerely hoped it was his studies that weighed so heavily upon him. Though, probably not. Still, Julius was quite optimistic about his brother's new turn around. Now that his little brother was coming back into the fold, a comfort filled Julius Fortescue. God truly worked in mysterious ways.

Speaking of which, Julius raised his brows as Aisha handed him back the bible he had lent her. He smiled kindly at her, bowing his head a little. "I hope you found it enlightening." His eyes narrowed as she introduced the third as her Brother, as Julius had been under the impression she had no family. They didn't seem to share any features, other than dark hair and tanned skin.

There was a smugness about Brother Max that Julius found most distasteful. First of all, the Catholic Church held zero in common with cigarette companies. How dare he? Was it suppose to be amusing? And... and was that a crack about the alleged Priest's scandals involving children? How very original. But Father Julius kept his regal bearings, his face staying passive, despite the iron gripped hand shake and the 'playful' whack on the arm. But what winged Julius's features, though only for a second, was the casually strung arm around his brother's shoulders. Which Julius would have dubbed quite innocent, had Alexander not lowered his eyes. It was one of those tells Alexander had had since childhood. When he was trying to keep a secret from Julius, he would always lower his eyes.

Interesting. Well, this required further investigation.

He cracked a very formal smile, not bothering to really pretend he found Max's jest to be in anyway amusing. "Alexander, you should have told me you were bringing guests." Julius said, turning his gaze to Alexander, willing him to meet his eye. "Il serait poli de les inviter à déjeuner avec nous, petit frère."

It would be rude to ask Max not to join, despite Julus finding his company most repellent. And Julius was hoping very much that Aisha would join them. He found the girl most intriguing. It was a wonder how it was that Alex and her knew one another. Perhaps Julius would simply ask at Lunch.

[AISHA]

Aisha didn’t respond to the enlightening bit. For some reason, a compulsive thought—she wanted to spit in his face and run. Once he took the bible, she folded her hands in front of her hips to keep from twitching. She did however notice the narrowing of his eyes. She glanced back at Max, and looked absolutely horrified when she saw him extend the hand with the puppet.

Her hand went up to her face, and then slowly lowered to her mouth as Max continued to talk. She just stared at him with large blue eyes, unblinking. Her hand pressed harder against her mouth, though it was to suppress the grin fighting her cheeks. Aisha dropped her arms to cross them beneath her chest, and licked her lower lip, then pressed them in a thin line and gave her head a shake.

The French once again caused her shoulders to stiffen. She understood it, but at the same time, she didn’t. She drew in a careful breath, trying to stifle the hysterical feeling in the back of her mind. The feeling that was telling her to scream no. Scream no, and run away.

“Ah, actually,” Aisha interrupted, “I came to bring the bible back, but I couldn’t go stomping up to the ah…” She waved her hand in the direction of the spot where he had been standing while speaking to the crowd, “To drop off a book.” She glanced at Max and Alex, and shifted slightly. Stupid Alex acting all coy and shit. He was going to totally give away those homosexual tendencies, and she would not be surprised if the pews had built-in gaydars.

Aisha pulled a black band off of her wrist, and swept her hair into a sloppy ponytail, that folded in half—rather than hang down. She was suddenly feeling warm, and not so well, and her thick hair sticking to her tanned skin didn’t help. She rolled her shoulders slightly, one of which had a tattoo written across it.
Your way can never be lost,
Should you know where you came from. The old, somewhat faded tattoo on her shoulder read. Completely different intention, but strangely suiting in a church.

[MAXIMUS PETULENGRO]

Oh, what fun this was.

Though he could tell his comrades found his antics amusing, he had this strange idea that Padre Julius did not agree. How sad. Oh well. Max kept his cocky grin pasted on his face, as Julius's blue eyes narrowed on Alexander, who was looking shyly down at his feet. Max had to resist the urge to block Alex from Julius's line of sight, though it was prevalent. In fact, in his brain, he tried to think of all the ways he could possibly make sure that neither Alex nor Aisha would be alone with this creep ever again.

Max was not what one called religious. Not in any sense of the word. But he was spiritual, most certainly. Not in the knocking on your door to tell you the good news way, but in a more secretive way. In fact, it was probably the only quiet thing in the world that Max had. He had a sense of God, mostly because he would hope that all of this trek through life was not for nothing. But organized religion, poppycock.

God was not meant to be understood, in Max's opinion. How could we, puny mortals, ever hope to even have an ounce of understanding over something so ambiguous and powerful? That said, he found Julius's career choice, and all the constrictions it came with, a bit moot. And had it simply been him, and made him happy, than Max would say all power to him. But the fact that he was obviously forcing this stupid dogma down his brother's throat settled most hatefully in Max's gut.

Thus, Max made quarrel with him.

"Oh Aisha, you could have very well run down there screaming. Least it would have been interesting." Was that to say that Max had found Julius un-interesting. Well, that puppet in his pocket didn't sew itself together out of mind numbing boredom. "Not to say that we aren't friends of Alex. It was just a happy coincidence meeting up with him here." Max's grip around Alex tightened ever so slightly, but otherwise, he stayed quite casual in appearance.

Max wondered what was said in french, but hoped it was something along the lines of 'Have a nice day, you crazy kids. Go have some fun!'.... but something told him this was not the case. All Max knew was that he was in guard dog mode, right now. He could feel Aisha touch his arm, ever so slightly, and his other arm was still around Alex's neck. But it wasn't just to be a cocky bastard now, oh no. There was something instinctively protective at work here. Still, Julius's gaze was not a pleased one, and while Max gave exactly zero fucks about the man's opinion, it was obvious Alex did. So Max, with little pleasure, dropped his arm from around Alex's neck, letting instead hang next to his arm.

But Max's eyes, and intense eyes they were, watched Julius, his inner mongoose on patrol.

[ALEXANDER FORTESCUE]

This was the singlemost uncomfortable moment of Alexander Jehan Fortescue's preciously short life.

He could feel his brother's eyes on him. He knew that Julius knew he was keeping something from him, he knew it. It wasn't hard to tell. As soon as he had looked down, he knew he'd given it away, the same was he had when he was six years old and he didn't want to tell Julius he'd accidentally torn one of the pages in his Bible a little bit. And he knew, above all, that the only reason Julius wasn't already interrogating him was because they had company.

"Alexander, you should have told me you were bringing guests."

"I wasn't, ah...I didn't know...we met here," he tried to explain, but Max seemed to do it better than he could.

"Not to say that we aren't friends of Alex. It was just a happy coincidence meeting up with him here." He wasn't about to deny that he and Max were...friends, but Alex still shifted nervously at just what opinion his brother would take towards this friendship.

"Il serait poli de les inviter à déjeuner avec nous, petit frère."

Alex winced. He glanced back at Aisha and Max and bit his lip slightly, raising his eyes to about his brother's chin but refusing to meet his gaze.

"Eh bien, je ne sais pas quels sont leurs plans pour aujourd'hui midi, mon frère. Je sais qu'il serait poli, mais, euh..." Well, I don't know what their are for lunch today, brother. I know it would be polite, but, um... He wasn't sure how to say he'd rather dine with the Truands than Julius. He wasn't sure it was safe to say that out loud. "Peut-être qu'ils ont d'autres plans. Etions-nous l'intention de sortir pour déjeuner...?" Perhaps they have other plans. Were we planning on going out to lunch...?

He wanted out of these stuffy clothes. He wanted to be alone with Max. No Julius. No problem.

He felt Max's arm drop from around his shoulder and suddenly felt a hell of a lot more vulnerable, and for a moment, he thought of reaching for Max's hand. But that was too forward, too forward...

[JULIUS FORTESCUE]

Aisha and her brother, Max, instantly piped up with the fact that they had not joined Alexander here. But that was hardly the matter, was it? Julius was just happy to have parishioners in his pews. It pleased him. Well, to be honest, it pleased him more that Aisha had came. After all, she could have brought the bible back at any time. But she chose to come on a Sunday, during Mass. He could have, personally, done without Max's company. But he was obligated to take in all who came.

It eased Julius when the vagrant Max dropped his arm from his little brother's shoulder, but Alexander's inability to look him in the eye was concerning. Was he feeling guilty about something. Quickly, Alexander tried dismissing the idea of Aisha and Max joining them for lunch. Highly suspicious, Julius put on his most authoritative voice to his little brother. "Ne sois pas bête, Alexandre. Il serait impoli de ne pas leur demander de nous rejoindre. Et nous ne devons pas être impoli." "Do not be silly, Alexander. It would be rude not to ask them to join us. And we must not be rude."

Turning his icy blue eyes on the siblings, Julius smile did not reach them. "Alexander seems to be being shy." Julius spoke, a slight tone of patronizing scolding lacing his kind words. "We would love for you to join us, for lunch." Julius's voice held a well concealed accent, as he was multilingual, though the French untone could not be denied. "It would be my treat, of course. In exchange, I hope, for a good conversation amongst friends." His gaze suspicious, he gave Max a once over.

What was Max short for? Maximilian? Julius would simply have to ask, as he did have a detestation for nicknames. Also, how odd. One child named something as original as Aisha, and another with a common name like Max. Curious, very curious. There was something not quite adding up with their story, but it of course could be Julius's natural suspicion with the world at large. Still, it required further investigation.

Much like Alexander being unable to look him in the eye. Familiarly, Father Julius raised his brother's chin to force him to meet his gaze, as Alexander seemed unwilling to do so. "Etes-vous bien, petit frère?" "Are you alright, little brother?"

[AISHA]

Something felt a little strange, a little bizzare. Julius seemed to be scrutinizing Max a little more than she was entirely comfortable with. Aisha's brows furrowed over her bright, wolfish eyes, before she glanced at Alex also. Who didn't seem comfortable at all near his brother. And it wasn't just the usual awkwardness that Alex had, the nervous--shy thing, he did. Nothing about this felt right to her at all.

Aisha lifted her hand to rub her bare arms which were slightly chilly, extending her fingers just a little bit more than neccisary, brushing Alex's arm, before folding her hands infront of her hips. She glanced at the blonde from the corner of her eyes, her lips set in a straight line, neither frowning, nor smiling, though her eyes seem to look worried for the cherub-esque boy.
She shifted on her feet awkwardly.

Lunch sounded pretty good, and neither one of them had to shell out for it. Just for some talk. Then again...Max didn't just talk. No, he smart-assed all over the place. "What do you think Max?" She asked, glancing at him again with large blue eyes. She then raised her hand up at Julius, "Just a sec--family concern," she said, and then leaned in to Max for a moment.

Aisha dipped her head in, her long hair creating a temporary sheild from Julius while she whispered into his ear, "Something's not right with Alex. I think we should get to know the Father a little bit." She said very quietly, before drawing back and looking at Max with large eyes, before straightening back up and smiling apologetically at Julius.

"Sorry," She pressed her finger to her lips, and offered that particular giggle she got, when she was trying to distract a vendor, long enough for a teammate to grab what they wanted. "It's a little embarassing issue, I just wanted to check with Max first," She tucked her arms behind her back, and softened her usually harsh blue eyes, a smile crossing over her nearly brown face, "Sorry if whispering infront of others was rude, Father."

[MAXIMUS PETULENGRO]

Max could feel the priest staring him down. So, he wanted to study Max, huh? Well, Max hoped he enjoyed the view. His cocky smirk in place, Max stared back at the Frenchmen, in a way that said: Bring it. I dare you.

The brother's spoke, before their attention was turned to Aisha and Max in English. For a moment, Max considered requesting for Alex to teach him French. It would certainly make pillow talk a bit more sexy, for sure. Not that Max thought that Alex needed help in the sexy department, but a little tweaking never hurt. But speaking French could perhaps make Max more attractive to Alex. And, more pertinently at the moment, Max would be able to understand what they were saying.

When Julius began to speak English, Max's smile twitched ever so slightly. He didn't like someone talking about his Alex like he was stupid. Alex wasn't stupid, no matter how much he tried to be. And he was not a child. There was something in Alex's movements, in his gestures. It concerned Max. He wanted to take him away from this awkwardness. It wasn't fair, having to hide ones self for the approval of another. It went against everything that Mac stood for. The invite to lunch was a little surprising, and his eyebrows went up a bit. Lunch with this creep? It hardly made food appetizing, did it? But, maybe Max was just being over protective.

Aisha didn't seem to think so. She felt it too, saw it too. Her murmur confirmed Max's belief, his snap judgment. There was something off about Father Julius. As she pulled away after expressing her opinion, Max gave his most friendly smile. "Lunch sounds fantastic, Jules. Absolutely fantastic." Max popped up, collecting Jules as a nickname that Alex had called him. It was a bold statement. A statement that said: They may lower their eyes and speak demurely, but not me. His eye contact was locked, his smirk still smug, his shoulders straight and confident.

Max would not concede.