The Magic Playground (Ludwig, Francis, Open)

[Francis Bonnefoy]

It was one of the sorriest sights Francis had the misfortune to see. His special, custom-made gift - ruined! Inspecting the small, round music box mournfully, he felt Andrew's guilty gaze on him. Francis carefully set down the music box, trying to look stern but instead succeeded with reproachful.

"That was for your daddy," he chided. "It's been so long since he's been home, and we were going to give him a grand homecoming! I have told you time and time again - no rough play in the manor and no touching things I've specifically told you not to."

Seeing the boy's teary eyes took the anger away. Francis sagged into a seat, sighing. Scolding the boy any more was not going to fix the music box. It was so badly dented, and Francis could hear the gears squeak and groan when he wound it. It would take a miracle to repair it, or at least a master craftsman.

Francis frowned, his mind wandering. He did know a master craftsman - why, they were nearly the best of friends! Abruptly, Francis stood, patting his hair into place and straightening his clothes. He instructed Andrew to gather his brothers and sisters, meeting them by the carriage once it was ready.

He didn't mind that even in such a large vehicle, it was cramped; nine squirming children and a baby would barely have fit anywhere else. It was for educational purposes, Francis reasoned. That, and the poor children have been confined to only one environment for a long time, so it would be good for them to see new places.

Even a place as dingy as an inventor's laboratory. The carriage stopped in front of the designated shop, but Francis decided to bypass that and instead headed for the workshop in the back. This was an emergency, after all.

With as much flourish as he could manage while carrying an excited one-year-old, he burst through the workshop door, trailed by his chattering children.

"Ludwig, my lovely, talented, most perfect friend!" he sang out in greeting.

[Ludwig Beilschmidt]

It was by far one of Ludwig's most intricate ideas yet. The steam engine he'd been working on looked almost like a toy compared to the massive machines used in trains or boats or airships, but Ludwig hadn't been able to shake the idea of a personal transport out of his head. So the better part of the last month had found Ludwig occupied with shrinking everything that made up an existing steam engine and trying to make the whole thing run just as efficiently, on a far smaller scale. He wouldn't know whether or not this design would work until he powered the entire thing up, but it was a test Ludwig was looking forward to, as he carefully started welding another expertly bent pipe into place on the engine block.

The door of his workshop slammed open with a massive bang and shattered Ludwig's focus; both the gas torch and pipe slipped from his hands, the pipe landing rather perfectly on his foot. Biting back the curse that rose to his lips, Ludwig flipped up his visor and glared around for the intruder, and he didn't take long to find him: the other man announced himself rather loudly.

"Francis," he replied, his mouth a thin, irritated line. As much as he wanted to snap at the other man, manners overrode his emotions - for now. "What brings you here today--" His voice dropped abruptly off as what looked like a small army of children followed Francis into his workshop, immediately scattering in several different directions to examine the tools, parts and projects carefully organized around the large space. Ludwig felt his heart sinking and, picking up the torch and pipe quickly and setting them on a high shelf, he strode over to the other man.

"So what can I do for you and why did you bring an entire nursery school with you-" Ludwig couldn't finish his question as that very moment, one of the children attempted to eat several screws. Quickly moving the parts out of reach, he turned back to Francis, his expression more hassled than before. "What I was saying before," he simply grumbled, folding his arms across his chest in an almost challenging way, although his eyes were now scanning the room anxiously as the children fanned out further. If he hadn't known better, Ludwig would have suspected some kind of coordinated attack.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Francis smiled indulgently at the children, nodding to encourage them to explore the shop. Once he handed Baby Charlie to Alice, he turned to Ludwig with the most stricken expression.

"It's only the most dreadful tragedy." Francis presented the broken music box, lovingly folded in the most delicate cloth he could find. "My poor treasure is broken! I am near to despairing, my dear friend. You are my only hope of saving this piece!"

His hand fluttered to rest over his heart for a good measure, accenting his appeal with desperation. But before he could go on, a small crash made him jump.

Maud had knocked a small shelf over, but it seemed to be of no consequence to her; she was already on the other side of the room, brandishing what looked like a heavy rod as if it was a wand. She wasn't the only taking various items and improvising. Andrew was banging on a metallic basin, singing in time to the beat.

Willy was kicking something vaguely round into the air the way he would in a street game. The result was a resounding shatter.

Francis frowned slightly. "Willy! Apologize to the nice man for breaking his glass ball. You should have known it wasn't meant for rowdy games." He shot Ludwig a mildly apologetic look. "Restlessness. It's just a phase, don't worry!"

[Ludwig Beilschmidt]

The warm happy smile that Francis shot the children only made Ludwig feel more disconcerted. Why, exactly, was the other man not demanding they put everything back this instant and behave? Kneading his fingers against the fabric of his sleeves, Ludwig tried to focus on what Francis was complaining about, although the casual destruction of his property going on around him caused his expression to go from angry to more distressed. The anger returned, briefly, however, when Ludwig found himself presented with the music box. Leave it to Francis to throw a fit over something so insignificant. Still... work was work.

"This is more of a job for a watchmaker," he observed, popping open part of the box and examining the tiny cogs that filled the inside, "but I should be able to fix it. It will just take a little more t--" It was a good thing Ludwig had kept a firm grip on the music box; he would have dropped it otherwise at the sound of one of his shelves being knocked over. Biting back a retort, he set the music box out of reach and hurried over to straighten up the mess. "Look what you've done!" he chided the girl. "You shouldn't touch other people's--" And something behind him shattered. Shutting his eyes in mental pain and taking a deep breath before turning around, Ludwig surveyed what used to be part of a new gas light design he'd been trying to put together. The fact that Francis hardly seemed bothered just rubbed salt in his fresh wounds.

"Francis," Ludwig groaned, gesturing to the ruined project. "Can you please take them outside? This isn't a good place for children to be." He punctuated this statement by relieving a little boy of the six or so screwdrivers he'd been playing with and putting them on the same high shelf, out of reach. "These aren't toys!"

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Francis had already sauntered over to one of the tables and was now prodding at an odd, jelly-like substance in a bowl. It was so bizarre and funny that Francis couldn't help giggling. He barely heard what Ludwig was shouting over the din.

"Hm?" Francis glanced over at his friend. "Outside? No, no, no! Now outside isn't a good place for my darling doves to be! It is too filthy and foul and I do not want any of my sweet loves catching some disease!"

It was then that Lizzie chose to slip on a small rolling wheel and, flailing to keep her balance, knocked a toolbox from its perch nearby with her arm. Over at the train model, Charlie the baby cooed excitedly and clapped his hands. He was attempting to clamber over the model.

Francis hurried over and lifted him from the train, but not before Charlie managed to drool over the set. Sighing, Francis pulled out his handkerchief and gently wiped the baby's face.

"No, no, love. You're too big for silly toy trains." Shifting the restless child in his arms, Francis turned to Ludwig brightly. "So how long will it take you to fix the music box? I hope it isn't damaged so badly that it would take days. Perhaps only a few hours?"

Francis' expression became pleading. "I can even pay you double if you manage it!"

[Ludwig Beilschmidt]

If Ludwig had been a machine, the needle on his stress gauge would be creeping unfailingly towards "critical". Tools being thrown about, careful projects being contaminated or broken or destroyed, children scrambling around everywhere, touching everything... but as desperately tempting as it would have been for Ludwig to lose his temper and start screaming at people, the issue of the broken music box remained. And as careless as Francis could be, they were kind of... well, maybe not friends. Acquaintances. Soon to be enemies if Francis didn't take a little control of the situation here.

Taking a very deep breath, Ludwig hurried over and set the bowl of jellied chemicals out of the reach of the other man. "Yes, because inside is so much safer, with all of the jagged metal edges and broken glass and chemicals that are all over my workshop now," he growled from behind gritted teeth, a vein twitching at his left temple. "It's perfectly fine outside--" Something else hit the floor with a metallic clatter and Ludwig didn't even bother trying to conceal the angry groan he gave. Standing up, he removed the little girl from where she was now trying to build a house out of his tools and, tucking the child under his arm like a football, moved back to Francis just in time to overhear his remark about 'silly toy trains'.

"That is a working model of a new valve system that should enable power to be funneled down to every single train carriage on a train and it is not a toy," he insisted, feeling his face going red. Whether he felt more angry about the mistreatment of his items or the trivialization of his hard work, Ludwig couldn't say. But his nerves had frayed dangerously thin and as he set the little girl down in front of Francis, his hands were shaking. He needed a drink, he needed a walk, he needed somewhere organized and peaceful and quiet.

"I can have the music box fixed by the end of the day," Ludwig recited, trying to ignore the sounds of destruction that continued to assault his ears. "If-- if you leave me be and let me clean up my workshop and fix everything alone." Surely -- oh god, the thought was almost to terrible to even comprehend, but surely Francis didn't intend to linger with his army of children in Ludwig's workshop for the rest of the day. By evening there would be nothing left of the place, just a heap of twisted metal and tangled wires and shattered glass. Ludwig could almost feel himself shudder at the thought.

[Lili Walser]

It was an impromptu visit... she hadn't mentioned her bringing lunch to him today before he left. No, instead, she just helped the kitchen staff pack the picnic hamper full - what they didn't eat, they could share with some of the other inventors - and made the journey with Sarah and Sebastian. The butler wouldn't hear of the ladies carrying such a heavy basket, no sir.

As they neared the shop, Lili's attention was, as ever, caught by the fascinating baubles in the inventor's district - but she had an objective today. It was nearing lunchtime, and she'd rather hate to miss Luddy were he to go get something. As they entered through the front, the small bell chiming, Lili blinked. Had that been a crash...?

"Cousin Luddy?" She beckoned to her staff and slipped behind the counter to enter the workshop, her parasol leaned carefully against the wall. The sight there had her stopping in her tracks, eyes wide. Children, in Luddy's shop? She scanned the scene, then stepped forward rather quickly to remove a dreadfully sharp looking tool from one of the boys hands... he'd been brandishing it as a sword. "Please, not here..." Her voice was soft, but no less firm for that. "Someone could very well get hurt, and then where would we all be?"

Who were these -- Francis? "Lord Bonnefoy, h-how nice to see you again." She'd finally caught sight of the other man, standing near her cousin. Formalities, formalities. She'd dip a curtsy, then step toward the pair, keeping an eye on any of the children she could see. Oh... Glass... oh dear. "Sarah? W-Would you be a dear and mind the broken glass?" There was no reason anyone should get hurt. Sarah would nod and search out a broom and dustpan, making short work of the mess before coming to stand near Lili. Sebastian remained by the door to the shop, barely veiled amusement on his face.