Grumbling to himself, Claude walked out of the Cathedral, unsure of where he was going, or what he would do with himself. His thoughts had been more or less a clustered ball of confusion since he woke up. He just wanted to find a place to sit down and contemplate without the possibility of being found by someone. He doubted that the Archdeacon would simply allow him to skip Mass without giving him some trouble for it, but he needed time to himself. If he consulted the Archdeacon about his problem, he was positive that only the worst possible outcomes would arise from the situation.

Looking up at the sky, he saw dark clouds rolling in. Light from the sun pierced through them, sending soft rays down to the earth below. They illuminated the stained glass of the Cathedral behind him as well as parts of the river and a few homes. Guessing that a storm was blowing in, he wondered if it was the Lord's way of telling him that he had better not do anything immoral, or even stupid for that matter. Now that he thought about it, perhaps simply praying for help or forgiveness would be sufficient, but all the same, he would have to confess to the Archdeacon. Although confessions are sacred, the knowledge only being shared between the sinner, the priest, and the Lord, he didn't exactly have it in him to do something. In his mind, he had not yet done anything wrong. Other than kissing the flutist in her sleep...and sending an army to Italy. Then again, the army getting completely out of his control could possibly not be his fault. He was not sure.

Stopping by the river, he leaned over a rail and stared into the clear water. Hungry fish gathered around his reflection, hoping for some bread. "Forgive me." Claude sighed quietly. "I have nothing for you." Looking over his shoulder, he noticed a small bakery just opening their doors to the public. He walked over to it silently, searching his pockets for any loose change. Finding a silver piece, he smiled to himself. The baker certainly looked surprised to see him.

"Good morning, monsieur." A younger gentleman behind the counter greeted him. "I..do not have any fresh bread yet." He recoiled, as if afraid that Claude would attack him. He was shocked when the taller man placed the silver piece on the counter.

"It is quite alright." Claude tried to hold a smile. "I simply want to feed the fish." Nodding once, the young man pulled out a small loaf of bread and wrapped it in a patterned cloth. He was about to give Claude several bronze pieces as change, but Claude held up his hand and shook his head. "Please. Keep it."

The young man smiled brightly. "Thank you, kind sir!" He waved goodbye to Claude as he left the shop. Going back over to the river, Claude noticed there were even more fish than before. He tore off small chunks of bread at a time and tossed it to them. Sighing quietly, he was reminded of his situation as thunder rang out from the distance. Looking up at the sky, he feared if he stuck around any longer, not only would he miss Mass, but he would be soaked by the time he got back to the Cathedral.

"No matter." He grunted to himself. "I can stay...for now." He took no notice as the rain began to drip down little by little, but just kept his mind focused on the fish instead. If he looked close enough, he noticed that they were not only one colour, but their scales shone a different colour in different light. Rainbow fish, or just a coincidence? Once he was out of bread for them, all of them left. All but one, that is. It looked up at him silently, not begging for more, but as if trying to tell him something. He noticed that it was much smaller than the rest of the fish. The unwanted runt, perhaps?

"Wait here." He had no idea why he was talking to a fish like it would actually understand him, but he strode away from the river, searching around for a glass bowl of some sort. Finding one laying on the side of a bridge, he picked it up. It was perfectly fine, but abandoned. "Strange...but it will do." The rain began to pelt down hard against his cassock. If he did not hurry, he would be a heavy, wet mass of cloth by the time he got home. Sliding down the side of the river, he held on to one of the poles of the railing with one hand, and scooped the fish up in the bowl with the other, surprised that it waited for him.

Climbing back up was a challenge in his soaked cassock, but he managed to get up to the street without harming himself or dropping the bowl. "Now," he smiled at the fish, exhausted from his ascent. "Quasimodo will love you." He had once heard Quasimodo say something about considering getting a pet.

Stirring from her sleep, Samantha woke to the sound of thunder rather than the sound of the church bells. It was odd, considering she knew there was Mass this morning. Looking outside her window, she watched the sky grow darker. She sat in silence on the window sill, with the window open. She would close it if it started raining. Below her, guards scrambled from their training grounds to get inside before the brewing storm hit. Secretly, she wished one of them would get struck by lightning while in their armour. Just one. It would amuse her after everything they have done to her friends and family.

She shook off the thought with a nervous laugh. "I'm Catholic...I cannot forget that." Trying to ignore her folly, she looked back up at the sky. It was getting close to blackness. Something was not quite right. "I'm...Catholic...?" She scratched the back of her head. She was raised to be so, and she had tried to follow through with it her entire life, but as soon as she got into the performance area of musicianship, she began working with Gypsies, Wiccans, Pagans, old Roman and Greek mythology believers, witches, and even some who upheld the traditions of the old Vikings and their mythologies. Being exposed to such had opened her mind to all the possibilities. It was hard to tell what exactly she "believed" to be true now.

There was a slight knock at her door, breaking her from her train of thought. "Si?" She stood up to open it. The Archdeacon walked in, half asleep. "Buono giorno, signor." She smiled slightly.

"Good morning, friend." He smiled sleepily and yawned. "Forgive me. We must cancel Mass this morning, and perhaps evening, too."

"Why is that?" She was taken aback by that statement, having never heard of someone having to cancel Mass before.

"One of our Gypsy friends has been tracking the oncoming storm. A tornado has touched down near Paris, and he believes he sees more forming." Unsure of what to say, Samantha stood there, dumbfounded. "We can trust him. His weather updates have always been accurate."

"Where...is signor Frollo?" She stammered quietly, fearing the worst possible scenario.

"I have not the slightest." The Archdeacon sighed sadly, leaning against the wall. "I have searched the whole Cathedral. The monks have not seen him either, nor have the nuns." He would never tell Claude to his face, but he cared a lot about the Minister. "I hate to ask this of you...but will you go looking? In my age, I could not make it without a horse, and the horses in our barn are terrified of storms. Except for Snowball...but he is...difficult."

Samantha nodded once. "I will go." Looking down from the window, she estimated the drop to be a little over a hundred feet. "Easy." Finding a long rope in the corner of the room, she tied one end tightly around a sturdy candle holder on the wall. Gripping the other end, she jumped out of the window. Swinging around the rounded side of the Cathedral, gravity caught her. She planted her feet against the stone wall about fifty feet still off the ground. From there, she loosened up on the rope a little at a time and rappelled down the wall until she reached the ground.

Sprinting off into the inner city, she began to become pelted by rain. It was obscuring her vision terribly. Or perhaps...her mask was. She ignored it for the most part, but her glasses fogged up quickly, making her blind to the streets ahead of her. Unable to see, she rammed into a few people by mistake, who were running for their own shelter.

"Oh forget it." She gave in. Yanking her mask off her face, she held onto it in one hand, and pulled her glasses away with the other hand. She wasn't sure what was worse. Being blinded by fog, or blinded by terrible eye sight. Everything was more or less a blur of colour to her until she got close enough. Spotting a tall figure clad in black, she rushed to see if it was Claude. Sure enough, it was him. By the river holding a fish of all things.

"Signor Frollo?" She called out, causing Claude to look over his shoulder. His heart skipped a beat and he began feeling "strange" again, but he turned to face her anyway. She was soaked to the bone, and to his pleasant surprise, her face was free from the cover of her mask. A small delighted smile crept up from his thin lips, and he stood there, transfixed.

"Oui?" He smiled wider, his eyes half shut in a daze. Reaching up, she patted the side of his face, trying to break his trance. He shook his head and looked up at the sky. "Oh, hello."

"Si. We have a storm. A big one. Let us go." She hastily grabbed his free hand and took off running back towards the Cathedral. She couldn't get over how cold he was to the touch. It felt nice to her, but it was a bit worrisome.

Claude struggled to keep hold on the fish. "Please, slow down!" He groaned. "I do not wish to drop this one."

She slowed down enough for him to keep a steady hold. "What is the fish for, anyway?" She wondered.

"My son wants a pet." Claude shrugged. "I thought he would like the fish." Quasimodo has always had a compassion for animals that confused others. The fish looked back up at Claude. "Yes, I will find a bigger bowl for you." He sighed.

"I...did not think you talked to...animals..." Samantha dragged him inside the Cathedral and shut the doors behind her. Looking from herself to Claude, she panted in exhaustion, as did he. Their heavy clothing weighed them both down greatly.

"I will give this to Quasimodo, then find something to put on while our clothes dry." He huffed, trying to shake off the fatigue. "Wait at the top of the stairs." With that, he trudged up the bell tower to find Quasimodo.