One of the most famous monuments in all of France, the Arc De Triomphe was built to honor the fallen soldiers of the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars (and not the host of L'Apprentice, Donald Triomphe). It’s an impressive, Roman-inspired architectural marvel with an opening large enough for a suicidal idiot to barnstorm an airplane through.
Beneath the Arc is a WWI tomb for unknown soldiers, whose ghosts probably feel pretty thankful that they weren’t forced to spend eternity underneath another of the proposed designs for the monument: a monstrous, water-spewing circus elephant.
The hotel stretched into the sky, carving at the clouds at
its peak. It stood above the city of Paris like a monument to the city’s
structure and integrity. Windows dotted each face and sparkled in the sunlight,
a great revolving door with gold frame and pristine glass spun in circles as
aristocrats and bureaucrats moved through its many shimmering panels, and marble
steps beckoned them closer, at the top of which a gentleman in a green coat and
cap awaited your arrival.
“Well, doesn’t this look like a dump,” Bucky chuckled as he
adjusted the backpack on his shoulder. He couldn’t help but stare up at the
soaring roof of the building.
“SHIELD is paying, and I’m not about to spend my first time in Paris in a
motel. Plus, the mass of people will give us some cover.” You had packed your
things into a sleek black suitcase but despite how smart you thought it had
looked, you still felt underdressed in comparison to the woman in a (hopefully
fake) fur coat on the other side of the revolving doors.
After you checked in and admired the grand reception, you
located your room on the almost-top floor. Bucky threw his bag at the foot of
the bed and leapt onto the mattress. You weren’t far behind him and entered the
room just in time to hear him sigh happily into the soft bedding. You rolled
your eyes and put your suitcase by your own bed.