The Matador-(open)

[Louvel von der Marck]

The beginning date of this event takes place May 10th, 2016

I N S P I R A T I O N

The bounce of of the seat beneath his body did little to rouse Louvel. Not the first skip or the second skip of the wheels of the landing gear finally making contact with the runway. It wasn’t until the sound of the stewardess on the overhead system announcing that the flight had arrived on time to Harper Rock that the blonde head resting against the window finally rolled. The small indentation on his forehead revealed pressure lines in his sun roasted flesh where it had been pressed for a majority of the flight back from Chile. With a slow and gradual lean forward he let out a yawn that surprisingly had his hand covering his mouth when he discovered a set of beady little eyes watching him between the seats in front of him. Leaning down he felt the weight of their stare as he reached down and pulled the black leather Birkenstock sandals towards his size eleven feet. As soon as he winced and hissed in discomfort the tiny head holding the beady little eyes spun around and disappeared from his view.

Each slide of his toes left a slight burn on their way into the thick straps of the most comfortable pair of shoes that he could tolerate wearing at the moment. The chilean sun was fierce on the last day he was there. It didn’t help that he had passed out beneath if before the eleventh hour of the most beautiful morning he had in years. Unfortunately he didn’t wake up until the ball of fire in the sky went down for it’s own nap. Like salt in a fresh wound he had ample time to say goodbye to what transformed him into a walking public service warning as what happens when too much tequila and Santiago sun find a traveler’s system before noon.

Louvel von der Marck was as slow as molasses in January going through the motions like everyone else around him. He could thank sixteen days that had him hiking, biking and swimming across the longest country in the world that just so happens to be eighty percent mountains. Lots of mountains and sun.The aisle of the small private chartered flight filled up and he could feel the sandpaper like brush of coconut bathed skin against his own. Beady eyes were on him again and this time he glanced down and confirmed that there was a child all of six year of age possessing them. Long dark lashes batted while the small hands reach to clasp the loops of the father’s waist close at hand.

“You snore.” The statement was direct and shot at him despite the lack of introduction.
“No, I don’t.” Louvel was pretty sure he didn’t. Anyone that had been privy to knowing never said anything. Martin certainly would have said something.
“Loud.” The girl’s face was serious.
“I do not.”His reach for the compartment above his seat that held his carry on bags was a painful one.
“Yeah, actually you do.” The father chimed in while handing over a Little Pony backpack to the girl who seemed insistent on pointing out his flaws upon first chance she had.
“I find that hard to believe.” The canvas expedition hat that was in as rough shape as he was was cupped over his head thanks to his left hand.
“Take our word for it.” The little girl in the white sundress nodded as her father spoke.
“How do I know if you are telling me the truth?” Louvel glanced between the two. “I was sleeping. I don't know you...” He looked down to the little girl. "Or you."
“I got proof.” Another voice stepped into the conversation from behind him. A gray haired beachcomber from what appeared to be the fifties was standing with a cell phone in hand when he turned to identify who had something on him. “Hope you don’t mind but I happen to be affiliated with a sleep study clinic. Kind of goes with the territory.”

Louvel in all his crispy fried glory had no chance but to wait in the aisle where he felt like a loosely positioned sardine with those around him who were intent on his acceptance that he in fact had an issue with snoring. People he was actually noticing for the first time despite the fact that they seemed to have spent countless international flight hours observing him and...his face deadpanned when the cell phone in the old guys hand played a clip of him snoring. There was something seriously wrong with it. The man’s thumb pressed and the volume increased to reveal a definite session of the von der Marck sawing logs against the window where he recently woke.

“See?” The girl chirped up.
“I can help with that if you are interested.” A business card replaced the visual and audio of his apparent snoring.
“I will give it some thought.”

Louvel found the aisle clearing and he didn’t wait for it to change. Business card filed into his right shorts pocket he was on his way. Through the gates and to baggage claim he was like a golden topped bronze lobster grabbing his one of a kind olive green Samsonite luggage. It was so hideous in its hard as a tortoise shell exterior that it had no chance of ever getting stolen or mistaken for another. With a firm grip on the handle he was out the front doors and soon standing beneath the Canadian sun which was not packing half the punch that Chile’s was but it still reminded him he had some healing time before he was good as new.

Damp but as good as it was going to currently get Louvel found himself an hour later reclining in the small room of the place he occupied when tending to his role of The Keeper. Not that it ever was unattended. Even in his absence when he was out exploring the rest of the world the staff beneath him that he entrusted the job to did what was expected. With that reassurance in mind Louvel didn’t bother to call the one in charge to let him know he was off the hook. He needed to get at least two coats of aloe vera on his blistered hide and something to eat. Maybe some water. His chapped lips and blistered nose stood out in his reflection facing him in the mirror across the room while he gave it some thought.

“Damn. Need to fix this.”

He pulled his tall body from the wicker chair beneath him. He unzipped the luggage that had spent the flight time in the bowels of the plane safe and far from the decibels of his snoring.Dropping to sit on the bed beside it he lifted the cover and tapped it to fall back. The aloe vera and best burn cream was inside. His hands went for the clam shell compartments that seemed awkward from the start. One zipper pulled back and his fingers reached inside and were met by a plastic bag. He started to pull at it then blinked at what came to view. It certainly wasn’t his. He looked down while stuffing the bag right back where it came from. The next zipper went back and he discovered clothing that was not his. He popped up from the bed, his hands ran back firmly through his wet blonde long hair.

“No way!” He growled as if that would be all it would take to fix the mix up. “What the f****!”

The last thing Louvel was interested in doing so soon after getting home from a couple weeks in sun soaked Chile was to hang out in Harper Rock airport and hunt for his luggage. He didn’t want to but he had no choice. He had everything he couldn’t get by without for several weeks zipped up inside. His mossy orbs looked at the luggage on the bed. His right hand opened another zipper. With a cautious and curled finger tip out came the last item he expected to find zipped up in a suitcase, locked in a box or hell even on the end of his finger. He tossed it back to the center of the open case. That sure as hell was not his.

“Yeah, hell no.”

Lou grumbled while he reached for his cell phone and was dialing the airport waiting for all the prompts that would hook him up with the one who could tell him where his **** was at. He was the kind of guy who didn’t worked up easy but when he was close to looking like a red raisin and staring at the contents of the luggage he currently had while his was floating god only knows where...he wasn’t apt to be the nice guy.

[Hannah Lynn (DELETED 8242)]

Wearing

Her body ached. The trip from Japan to various stops, to finally Harper Rock had been an uncomfortable and grueling experience. Not one she looked forward to come December, should her dad and step mom decide she should come back to Japan and not the other way around. Hannah had to have slept at the very most, and not at one time, three hours. The plane had been crowded, anxiety from what it was she was supposed to be actually doing in Harper Rock plagued her mind mixed in with turbulence, children crying and running the length of the plane because they were bored....Hannah was positive that after her work was done here in Canada, that she wasn't going to be in a hurry to get back home if this was how all flights went.

The first and only thing she wanted to do after finding out where she was going to be living, was to take a nice hot shower. A bath, really but sleep was the next thing Hannah wanted to do. So, a shower it would be, after she collected her luggage. Hannah's eyes closed as she rocked back on her feet, trying to rest her weary eyes as the passengers all waited for the baggage claim area to spring to life. If it was possible to fall asleep while standing, Hannah was positive she would be doing that now. Instead, she would have to settle for weary eyes getting a few minutes of rest.

Her hands rested in the front pockets of her purple sweatshirt, also tired and weary from exhaustion as Hannah tried to tone out all the noises and commotion made from the variety of people waiting at a claim area for their bags. English was a popular language, but so was French. Something she would have try and learn if she was going to stay here a while and it seemed like she was. At least until the Yakuza determined she was done with what they asked of Hannah. Which was somewhere between now and never.

After what seemed like forever (when it was probably only five to seven minutes) the circular claim area whirred to life and bags started making their way down. Her right eye slowly lifted, followed by the left. She would wait until hers made a couple circles around the claim area, only because it was so crowded. What was three more minutes when she had the next two days to sleep and recoup?

Her bag was probably the tenth or eleventh to come down the shoot, but Hannah made no move to claim it. She watched others scramble for the bags, as hers went around and around. Finally, when there were only five or six bags left, Hannah moved to the claim area, grabbed the bag with a groan of protest and left the airport area to hail a cab, find the address she was given and SLEEP. Was the bag lighter than she imagined it, or was it just her weary state? Hannah looked to see if her bag had been checked by TSA, but not a single sticker was to be found. So she shrugged her shoulders and wrote it off as being tired as she crawled into the cab after tossing the pretty ordinary looking bad in the trunk of the awaiting cab. The address to the apartment was given and she would supposedly be there in no time.

Her head rested against the window, well aware of the fact that most windows were dirty and people did the same thing. She would be in the shower soon, so she didn't care. Hannah was just about to drift off when there had been a bump and a song that came on the radio that was a little louder than she would have liked it to be. Her head was raised and her body slouched down on the seat as Hannah found a new position to get comfortable in as the cab came to a slow and then finally a stop. “We're here.” The driver announced as Hannah looked at the piece of crumpled paper she had in her open pocket in the sweatshirt, then to the tall building. It was tall, sure, but nothing like most complexes in Japan. A colorful Canadian bill was placed in the driver's hand, along with the amount of the fare, before she grabbed the bag and lugged it, and her, up the stairs to an elevator and to the floor she needed. A door, never looked so good and welcoming when Hannah saw the apartment number come into view as the elevator doors slid open. Hannah stomped down the hallway, dug out the key from her sweatshirt, put it in the door and gave it a quick turn. What greeted her, surprised the hell out of her. Two cats; one primarily white, the other mostly orange were at the door. Not wanting to argue with cats, or figure out what the hell was going on, Hannah just barreled through the door, moved through the length of the apartment and found the bedroom. Which mirrored what had been her set up in Japan. As creepy as that was, but expected at the same time. Everything had its place, just like in Japan, with minimal differences that Hannah could see right off the bat.

The cats had skidded out of the way and into hiding, clearly expecting someone else, but if they weren't bothering her, that meant they didn't need anything in Hannah's mind. The suitcase was put on the bed, zipped opened and the top pulled back as the other hand emptied the pocket in her sweatshirt. When her eyes returned to the bag, all Hannah could do was groan in frustration. What her eyes fell on was not the things she owned. Her head dipped back as she sighed and then jumped up and down twice as another inaudible sound was made from her. “Whyyyyyyy.” Hannah moved the suitcase to the side of the bed without really rummaging around in it, because once she saw briefs Hannah knew this suitcase belonged to someone else. Someone else being a guy. It certainly smelled like a guy's suitcase too.

Hannah turned on her phone, followed with the mobile data and looked for the airports number as she finally dug around in the bag, trying to see if there was a label, a name, a number, or anything she could find to call this guy's number directly instead of dealing with airport personnel. But instead, all she found was a mixture of things that should be in a suitcase and things she wouldn't imagine someone taking through customs. Who the hell was this person? Hannah wasn't sure if she should give this to the police as evidence or give it to the airport people just to try and get her own bag back. Really, she wanted the latter, because her things were in there. Things she bought with her own hard earned money, things she was sentimental about and things that she might never find here in Canada...as each country had it's own flair in clothing and style. “I have someone else's bag.” She said as soon as the other side was patched through to the right person, following a prompt apology and directions on how to return the bag.

[Louvel von der Marck]

W e a r i n g

The sounds of flights arriving and departing could be picked up beyond the walls and glass that secured the commuters and travelers from the overhead air traffic while in the airport. In a long fast moving stride Louvel moved straight for the turnstile and attendant that appeared to be working the area he left not long ago. The brush of the flannel shirt over his crisp shoulders reminded him he hardly made a wise choice as far as comfort went. It was the closest thing to the door when he walked out so he grabbed it. A large hand went to the back of his neck and tried to shift the shirt to fall back from the spans of his shoulders. It was time for more aloe or cool water. Maybe a little of both or a lot.

“Excuse me…” He called out once he realized the woman was heading towards what appeared to be an employee door. “Ma’am?” Louvel jogged with the suitcase in hand only to be left looking at the closed door. “Seriously?!.”

After a few minutes of no show of the employee that disappeared he hiked to the check-in desk and stood in line. The sound of gum snapping behind him earned a brief look back until the mouth chewing it stopped. He gave a nod then found his spot in line had him looking at the male that could hopefully make his suitcase appear a little faster.

“Hi, I am not sure what happened but I got home and found out this is not my luggage.”
“Are you sure, Sir?” It was an odd response but Lou was willing to let it slide. The airline employee likely had all sorts of crazy things to deal with. Surely the issue of him picking up the wrong suitcase was small in comparison.
“Positive. I didn’t pack lace lingerie or anything else that is inside of this before heading off to Chile.” He hoisted up the luggage and dropped it creating a heavy thud on the baggage check in space to his left.
“Was there identification on it when you picked it up?” The worker stared at the massive suitcase as if it could bite. He made no move to check for himself.
“Not really sure. It was a long *** flight, I was tired, burned all to hell and I just wanted to get home.” His hands moved into his back pockets but even the simply movement left his body burning.
“So…” The spectacled face looked at him with all the signs of being suspicious. “You just grabbed the case and you left with it.”
“Look…” Louvel’s hands went to the edge of the counter between them and held him up as he leaned in a bit. “I have probably the only other suitcase on the planet that looks exactly like that relic.” He nodded to the item in question. “Why would I return home after a trip, clearly in need of a cold shower and rest only to decide to grab the wrong suitcase to make the remaining part of my evening even shorter by requiring me to come back to this airport that I wanted to get the hell out of in the first place?” His hands nudged him back to his flat booted feet and he lifted them with a ‘wtf expression'. “Makes sense, right?”
“Then why did you do it?” The male pushed the dark frames perched at the bridge of his nose giving them a boost to sit a little higher. “We have identification labels. Did you have one in place?”
Louvel deadpanned. What was the guy missing? Why did he do what? No he was leaving with the wrong luggage on purpose? “Of course I labeled my bag.” His hand pulled his hair back and held it briefly at the top of his head. “I have all my important **** in it.”
“So, how did you pick up this unlabeled bag instead of the one you claim is lost that has your tag?”

Louvel was about to step in closer to the counter when a second desk attendendant overheard the conversation. With a smile she motioned for the guy to step aside to the next check in screen and looked down at the baggage and found a sticker on the bottom.

“I think I can clear this up rather quickly if you give me a few minutes…” She eyed him while tapping on the keyboard in front of her. “Sir, can I have some identification please.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your help. Of course I have identification.” A sigh of relief escaped over his weather chapped lips. He reached into his left back pocket and found it empty. So his wallet was in the right one. He slid a hand back to find out it in fact was not. “You have got to be ******* kidding me!” He realized then and there he left his wallet and passport on the bathroom vanity.
“Sir, I need some identification to find your luggage.”

Louvel inhaled deep and reminded himself this could happen to anyone. He traveled enough around the world to have it be routine but oddly this was a first time. He reached for the bag he came with because it was there and it was quickly pulled out of reach.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I can’t allow you to have the luggage. It is not yours.”
“I will be back.” Louvel was heading back towards the exit without another word.

[Hannah Lynn (DELETED 8242)]

As Hannah listened to the woman talking on the phone, she came to the realization that this act was eating up more of her time. Sleep time. Shower time. "Okay. I will come back in." Hannah said in the middle of the woman's talking, because in the end, Hannah already knew that she was going to have to return this bag to whatever psycho that owned it. Usually, Hannah wasn't so rude, or so aggressive with her tactics, but after the flight, the bag mix-up and smelling like the stuff they called meals on the plane...she was over the entire thing.

Hannah zipped the bag up all too happily, and moved to the kitchen where she was going to find a phone book for a cab, because using her data was draining the battery and it was probably less than twenty percent charged. It would be flat, she almost would stake her life on it, by the time she got back to the apartment for the second time tonight. What greeted her, surprised Hannah. By the phone book was a set of keys to a rental car. What it was, was anyone's guess, but apparently the Yakuza was thinking further than what she was for the time being. There was a GPS system next to the keys, along with a charger and so after flipping the book open to find the airport address, Hannah was back in the room while the satellites searched for the final destination she typed in.

The bag was collected and pushed as far away from her body as Hannah could tolerate it being, without it starting to be awkward in the sense of it being heavy and throwing off her balance. "This guy is a sicko." Hannah huffed as she made her way out of the apartment and to the elevator to the street outside the complex. The key fab was pushed as a help aid in locating the rental. About half a block down a red four door something or another (since Hannah knew practically nothing about cars) chipped up to life as the lights flashed and the car beeped.

Hannah tossed the bag in the boot of the car, only recognizing now that the little identifier was missing from the bag. A sure tell sign that this was NOT her bag. "Stupid, Hannah. Stupid." She had just wasted an hour of her day due to a failure in her own observational skills. An hour she wasn't going to get back when work started up in two nights time. She slammed the boot down, walked around the car and got in the driver's side. The key sprouted it to life and she was off to the airport once again, this time, in silence. This mix up would be a reminder of taking two more seconds of her day to make sure things are done right, as to not waste hours. This was something she wouldn't ever forget to do from here on out.

[Louvel von der Marck]

“Thank you Mr. von der Marck.” The spectacled face offered up a less than it took to blink smile. “I assure you that it won’t happen again.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The lift of his shoulders in a subtle shrug said he was willing to forget about it. The drive out of town then back in pretty much gave him the time needed to cool off and calm down.

Louvel slid the forms of identification back into his wallet. The very ones that finally satisfied the baggage attendants that he in fact was the owner of a bag currently being searched for. Now that he had his back pocket securing the billfold his hands slid to his front pockets of his denim jeans and his thumbs hooked outside to keep them in place.

“We look forward to serving you in the future, Mr. von der Marck.” The woman who came to the rescue finally chimed in. “And it is a good thing we detained the suitcase you erroneously took home. The authorities are currently waiting for the owner to arrive. We are told to advise you that if you have any issues with cough or sudden onset of illness that you are to seek medical attention promptly. There was an exposure in the cargo area of the plane that requires us to quarantine the baggage until further notice.”

Louvel looked at the woman as his hands came out of his pockets. She offered a smile and handed over the pocket size bottle of hand sanitizer. He accepted it and made use of it as the clicks of tapping fingers from the keyboard finally dropped and silence was left. This, of course, has the Keeper’s eyebrows darting up sharply.

“I found it. Or at least I think I did.” The two attendants merged in front of the computer screen. “Yes, I just spoke with the customer. I believe they are enroute right now with…” The spectacles finally were pulled from the bridge of the man's nose.”Your baggage, Mr. von der marck.”
“Louvel please. It sounds like you are addressing my father.”
“Yes, Sir.” The woman noticed the uniformed bodies coming up behind Louvel and nodded slowly. “There is a few questions the agents would like to ask you and take some basic information.”
“What for?” The fumes from the industrial use sanitizer was working its way in the air.
“Just to be safe, Sir, we need you to come with us. It is regulations. We have to follow them to keep you and everyone else safe.” The two uniforms were gloved and lint free. “We won’t take any more of your time than required.”
“I am waiting for my luggage.” Louvel protested fitting his hands on hips as if he was already refusing to go anywhere.
“We will bring it back to you once you are cleared.” The spectacles were back on. Louvel narrowed his eyes and tightened his jaw. “The passenger who has your luggage is also being detained...if that helps.”
“Clear of what?” Louvel felt like he was being herded into moving the direction the agents were taking him.
“We can answer that as soon as we ask you the same questions we had to ask everyone else on the flight that it concerns.”
“But I wasn’t on that flight. Just the luggage that I took home by mistake!”
“Correct, Sir. Come with us.”
“I can’t believe this.” His hands went up in the air and he followed along.

[Hannah Lynn (DELETED 8242)]

Finding parking had been a tedious task, but Hannah finally gave in and decided to pay for parking just because she couldn't find a free half hour parking slot. She shouldn't be more than a half hour, in theory. Drop the bag off, get her bag if someone realized they had the wrong bag and that would be that. In her head, it shouldn't take that long. But, since there seemed to be no free parking spaces open, she opted for paying by hour. She didn't care anymore. Hannah just wanted her bag, with her things and wanted to get home.

The bag was collected from the boot once Hannah had parked the car and turned off the ignition. She headed to the elevator that would take her to the main floor in the parking structure, and to a walkway that would lead right to the airport. Hannah once again kept the bag at an arm's length, not knowing what the guy was like, or did with the things he had in his bag as she walked across the street to the airport. She probably looked ridiculous, but Hannah wasn't one to really care about that. She wasn't here to please anyone or look for anything...other than a pillow and a blanket if they offered her one.

Once she passed the sliding doors and was inside the bustling area of the airport, her eyes scanned for the customer service area near the baggage claims. When she found it, Hannah all but jumped for joy, as the line only seemed slightly long, and seemed to be moving at a tolerable pace. She almost, almost skipped to the desk, but remembered that this bag should be treated with extreme caution and care due to what was in it, so she just walked the way she had been each time the bag was in her hands.

It would be set down by her feet as she waited in line, but that wait didn't last long. "Excuse me, Miss? Are you the one that called about the bag mix-up?" A male, somewhat friendly voice inquired to her left. Hannah turned to see airport security at her side, staring between her and the bag. If only Hannah typically saw how bad a scenario was instead of assuming this man was coming here to help her, she might have bolted from the bag and told them to keep whatever she had left behind. Scrubs could be bought...as well as anything in her bag, with relative ease. Instead, she just nodded her head and smiled. "Yes. Am I in the right line?" Hannah inquired as his hand extended outwards to a hallway besides the desk. "If you could come this way, we would be happy to help assist you."

"Can't she help me?" Hannah pointed to the woman behind the desk, who was glancing between the current customer and then what was going on between Hannah and the man next to her. "I don't mind waiting. It's only fair. Everyone before me has been waiting just as long for their things, if not longer." She gave him a pleasant smile which told him she didn't mind.

"You're right, but they weren't on the same flight as you. It makes a bit of difference." He made a move for the bag, but before he could claim it, Hannah swooped down and took it in her arms. "I'm not giving this up without getting mine, first." She stated, because she DID need clothes, even if it ended up being some guy who was a perve's clothes. She could wash them and pretend they were brand new. Maybe.

"Miss. That way, please." Another voice, male was at the other side of her. "Fine, fine." Hannah threw her hands up in the air, the bag sliding down her arm as she did this and moved to the hallway. They made no move to touch her as she seemed to be complying, but they didn't give her much free space either. "This way please." The first uniformed male said, once again extending an arm to a room with a metal door that had a window, a tiny, elongated one smack dab in the middle of it. "We'll be needing the bag too." It was said as a hand from the second guy latched on to the bag, while the door was opened by the first guy.

"Do I need a lawyer or something?" Now Hannah was starting to think that maybe she should have done a runner, or just lived with the clothes and strange objects in the suitcase as her eyes landed on one of two empty tables. "That shouldn't be necessary, unless you think it is." Was all that was said about that before Hannah stepped inside the room, the door slamming closed behind her.

[Louvel von der Marck]

Louvel really had no issue with answering questions. None at all. As long as he was well rested, not burnt to a crisp and not in what appeared to be the least comfortable waiting room on the god forsaken planet. No less than three people in the last ten minutes had asked him nearly the same set of questions three times. And through all of that he was given the same song and dance reply when he asked what the holdup was really about. They couldn’t tell him that. It was not something that they could discuss. Whatever he was exposed to it was enough to have him detained, nearly quarantined and yet he was still no closer to having his luggage or answers.

“We can assure you that your luggage has been returned.” The one in uniform stood up and reached for the door.
“Sure you can.” Louvel was tired and on fire. “Just bring it in and I will take it and head on home.”
“We can get you something to drink while you wait.” The body paused at the door as if that was going to make all the difference in the world.
“I got an idea.” Louvel stood up while taking extra care with his shoulders trying not to bare the weight of the fabric directly on his blistered blades. “You go out there and you bring me my luggage. You tell anyone else planning on coming into this room that this little fiasco is on your airline and that I am leaving or…” He took a few steps closer scratching his chin only to find out it was also tender. “I make a phone call to my lawyer and you give me your full name as well as the three idiots that were in here prior. I have committed no crime and whatever was on that flight has no chance in hell of giving me any trouble. Trust me. You just may have found a lot more than you bargained for if I am detained without reasonable cause any longer.”
“I think we are finished here.” There was a nod of understanding, or so he thought it was.
“Good.” Lou followed up until the door was opened then quickly closed and locked. “Wait…”

Louvel walked closer to the door and shoved his palms hard to the steel surface. A small observation window was hard not to miss. Especially when it allowed him to discover a set of security officers were assigned at each side of the wall outside the door. His hands palmed his face increasing the burning sensation. He growled and kicked at one of the chairs near a table.

Thirty minutes later he was too tired to to pace around. He settled into a chair and folded up his arms and made the mistake of closing his eyes. The next sound startled him awake was the door closing again and locking. He pulled his head up and squinted from the bright lights. It appears he was not alone. A lot of color was made out and he slowly stood up.

“Who are you?”

[Hannah Lynn (DELETED 8242)]

The door slamming seemed so...final. That was the thought in Hannah's mind as her eyes moved around the room. The two tables weren't as 'open' as she thought they were. Due to the angle of the door opening before she was more or less ushered inside the room, revealed a man to be sitting at the table with his head down once she was fully inside the room. A couple seconds later, he popped to life.

A question was asked of her, but Hannah ignored it for now and moved to a large window that anyone who had seen any cop shows and movies knew that it was one of those where they could see her and this mystery guy, but they could not see them. "I'm an American Citizen. That's who I am." Hannah started pounding a fist against the window, not enough to do anything other than gain the attention she wanted. It was true in essence. While Hannah spent most her life in Kobe, Japan, she was born in Illinois, came back there every so often to visit her mom, so was able to claim herself as a dual citizen. And apparently she either had more faith in the American government when it came to things like this, than that of the Japanese, by her statement, or preferred to keep that aspect of her life secret due to her real reason for being in Canada. Regardless, of the reason, Hannah hoped that this would get some sort of reaction and light a fire under someone's butt.

After no reply in any mannerism, Hannah groaned and turned her back to the window before leaning against it. "My name's Hannah." She said quietly, her head drooping just a bit due to her being so tired and quite honestly fed up with the airline, the mix-up and then this airport as a whole. "I don't even know why I'm in here. I did the right thing by bringing the bag back..." Hannah moved to the free table and claimed the chair on the opposite side and area the guy sat at the other table. "Do you think we need a lawyer? Something seems not...right about this situation. Like I did something wrong. What did you do?" Hannah suddenly realized that while she might not be a bad person...this guy definitely could be a bad person. And she was locked in here with some guy who was in trouble, either as much, or more than she was, because once Hannah told them everything she knew, the woman was positive she would be able to go home without any further delays.

[Louvel von der Marck]

Louvel widened the show of his mossy orbs in an exaggerated manner. Just as they flipped upward he rolled his head to each shoulder hoping to stretch out the muscles that were so tired they were attempting to knot up in defiance. All of it was taking far more effort than he had the energy to apply to the otherwise simple tasks. He had been there way too long. The only hope at him remaining alert was the stranger that he was looking at claiming to answer to the name Hannah and was asking him what it was that he did. He stared at her. No movement came from him as he waited. She was doing great until he asked her that. What did he do? A golden brow earned from the endless hours in the Chilean sun rose with his curiosity.

“I picked up your bag in error when I returned from Chile.” He stepped towards the door making sure not to come too close to where she was. He saw nothing promising through the limited view of the observation window so he turned away and weaved both of his hands through the top of his hair and paused them towards the back of his head. “That is what I did.” He sighed. Finally when he turned back around he looked at her without saying a word. Maybe she was as oblivious as he was. Perhaps she really was just in the wrong place at the wrong time too. “My crime seems to be having a piece of luggage that is identical to yours.”

There was really no blame to put anywhere. She was being delayed with the rest of her evening as much as he was. It took far more energy to be pissed off than it did to wait it out. He didn’t have the constraints of a nine to five job to rise for the following morning. He rubbed the back of his head before the friction of his hands reminded him even his scalp was cooked. With a deep slow inhale to gain some reserve of calm that perhaps was yet left to be claimed within he held it deep and counted backwards from ten while his lids closed over his eyes.

“Louvel.” He didn’t offer up his last name. It was not relevant to the moment or the company he was sharing it with. He sounded exhausted and he certainly was.“That is my name. Whatever is going on seems to have to do with the flight you were on.”

The von der Marck keeper eyed her and stepped back to where he had been sitting. He wasn’t too concerned with whatever it was that she had been possibly exposed to. He had his reasons as to why he was confident it likely wouldn’t be an issue to him. Truth was that he couldn’t really ever remember having a cold or being weakened by the general virus or bacterias that others were. He always attributed his unusual resistance to his focus on healthy living, the great outdoors and something he never really talked about. Vitamins was his claim but it was more than that, much more.

[Hannah Lynn (DELETED 8242)]

Hannah both listened and watched the other male in interest, trying to figure out why they were both in here. Finally, the hard realization came when he admitted to grabbing her bag because they looked exactly alike. Which meant, this was the guy whose luggage she had temporarily possessed. This was the guy who had that....stuff in his luggage. The questionable stuff.

He took a seat, but Hannah didn't proceed to follow. In fact, she scooted to the wall closest to the door and glanced between 'Louvel,' and the door knob. She wasn't going to try the handle yet, she suspected it wouldn't get her far anyways, but she had no qualms about banging on the door should the creep try and do something to her. Then he dropped another bomb and all Hannah could do was stand there and blink at Louvel.

"Wait. Are you saying there was something on my flight? A virus?" Hannah groaned and then held out her arms in front of her to see if she had any rashes or spots on them, before she lifted up her sweatshirt just high enough to see an abdomen, also checking for anything weird there. Next came her pants legs up to her knees, noting nothing different there either. "Did you hear what it might be? A cold? Digestive? Was it airborne or something with the food?" He probably didn't know anything more than she did, so Hannah just tipped her head back and looked up at the ceiling after groaning again. "Great. First I get some weirdo's luggage, and now I probably have some sort of crazy thing the CDC is still trying to figure out a cure for." She sighed and slumped to the floor, using her back to assist her in this matter as she slid down the length of the wall. "So, you're gay, I assume?" Hannah actually felt some comfort in that statement, given they were alone in a room for who knew how long. In truth, if she had to, she could defend herself quite well, however, the fact she didn't know who he was and what he was capable of often left for unknown variables, no matter how much training she had in Jujitsu. "Totally not judging. Just would explain some things in your luggage is all." Hannah followed up with a roll of her shoulders.