Occupation: Sébastien is a lawyer with the Sloane family law firm.
Sexual Orientation: He enjoys the company of women.
Kinks/Style: It's been said that Sébastien goes out with a different woman every night.  This is a gross exaggeration, but it can be said that he has never gone out with the same woman twice.  If questioned, most of the women he's gone out with would say that he was a perfect gentleman.  Some would say it with disappointment.  Others would simply say he didn't stay the night.  And if anyone paid really close attention to his dating history, they would realize, he never dates redheads.

Personality:  Sébastien comes across as a workaholic and someone who has little time for anything else.  Depending on your point of view this might appear as ambition, dedication, or a sign of something lacking, such as family or friends.  While it's true he doesn't have any family, he does have friends, most notably Nate and Jack Sloane.  He also does have a social life, though it's mostly lived outside of work and outside of the City, so it's more rumored than observed.  He is an avid theatergoer, as well as live music connoisseur, whether symphony, opera, or some indie band in a small club and always buys two tickets, even if he doesn't have anyone to go with him.  That's usually not a problem as he's generally sociable, confident enough to approach just about anyone, and fearless in asking someone out.  For that reason, he rarely dines alone, except for breakfast and that's because he always sleeps alone.

Quick to smile and easy-going, it's only when he's alone and no one's looking that a shadow takes him.

Appearance: Sébastien checks in at a straight six feet with a lean muscular build which he maintains through a brutally strict, almost punishing exercise routine.  He has a thick head of wavy brown hair with soft blue eyes.  He has a well-maintained beard, which if pressed, he'd admit he wears to offset a rather large nose.

He tends to dress well in custom-tailored suits and like with dinner companions, he's never seen with the same one twice.  He generally doesn't wear any jewelry beyond a watch (typically a smartwatch) and a simple depletion gilded silver ring on his right hand (i.e. it looks like it's coated in white powder).


History:  Sébastien was born to François and Catherine Broussard, a wealthy and influential family in New Orleans, his father a judge, his mother a socialite overseeing a number of charitable organizations.  He was orphaned at the age of seven when he and his parents were caught in the Gulf of Mexico during Hurricane Mitch.  Remarkably, Sébastien survived and was taken in by a friend of the family, Vivienne Landry, a childless and somewhat notorious spinster.  Some suggested she was trying to steal the Broussard fortune, but she was old money herself and assured it was all put in a trust for her ward's future.

Vivienne was a demanding, but kind guardian, expecting the best out of Sébastien in order to honor the memory and legacy of his parents and his own potential.  He strived to live up to that memory, doing well in school, sports, and civic engagement.  At the age of seventeen, in appreciation of all she had done for him, he arranged for her to officially adopt him and changed his name to hers.  Shortly thereafter, he went off to Yale to study law where he was ultimately recruited to join the Sloane law firm by Richard Sloane himself, joining at the same time as Sloane's youngest son Nate and the two quickly became friends.

It was shortly thereafter that Sébastien first met the future Mrs. Erika Sloane.  She'd been working as a barista at a nearby coffee shop and she'd instantly caught his eye.  He'd asked her out that very day and asked her out again that very night.  Unfortunately, he'd had to cancel that second date, work taking him out of town and ultimately keeping him out of town.  When he returned, Nate and Erika were dating.

A year later, he found a reason to be somewhere else when they were wed, sending an extravagant gift as his apology.  He continued finding reasons to be somewhere else in the years that followed, taking any of the cases outside the city and whenever possible, overseas.  He was good.  Became an expert in interstate, intrastate and international law and the go-to guy.  He was still friends with Nate and Jack, even if his in-person visits grew less and less frequent, and he hadn't been back to the city in months, which was just fine by him.

That is, until Sunday morning, when he got a phone call, telling him to come 'home'.

---

He came through the door, the phone held to his ear, plastic bags filled with wax paper cartons in the other.

“An hour to get to the airport,” he said, even at that time of night, the streets of London always crowded.

“An hour and a half to get to the airport,” he amended, thinking of how long it would take him to wrap things up.  He wouldn’t need much at first, a single suitcase would do.  He could send for the rest if he really needed it and it wasn't like he didn't have clothes at his apartment back in New York.

"Eight and a half in the air, an hour on either side, one for customs and another to get through the tunnel and to the office," he estimated before hanging up the phone.  Fourteen hours total.  Nine adjusted for the time change and that would get him to the office before things got too far out of hand.  Of course, this was still Sunday.  Before they knew about Richard's turn and before they knew about Jack, other than he was missing.  He thought he could get there before things got out of hand, but somewhere over the Atlantic, he'd learn he was wrong.


"I guess that after-hours place is out now?" the girl asked a little disappointedly, snapping the little disposable chopsticks in half and opening one of the cartons.

"Sorry," he said apologetically, though he wasn't exactly, at least not entirely, so it might have been a little bit of a lie as he leaned in to grab a few of the noodles between his fingertips.

"Will I see you when you get back?" she asked, the small distance between them starting to get bigger and bigger with every breath.

"I don't know when that will be," he told her, and it was true, he didn't, but it was what he didn't say that gave her his answer; his answer was no.