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04 July 2020 @ 12:00 am
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AIM: MayorOfCantown
Current Mood: creativecreative
Some of you may know by now that France is... very sexually active. Also, he's the personification of a nation. A nation to which I am neither a native nor a citizen.

Uh, so let's cut to the chase!

Under here.Collapse )
[voice; French:]

[France's voice is low and might be pleasant to listen to, even if you don't speak French and can't understand a word. It's as though he's speaking to no one in particular, or everyone at large, but it's offhand. Musing.]

--and I wonder who will be the next to leave? Ah, such is life! It is wandering and so fragile. Espagne, Autriche, Romano and Romana...

To think they would try to distract us so... kindly [in that word only his voice is sharp and irritated--] ... with these decorations.

Mm, we may as well enjoy them while they are here!

[sounds of rustling; France rolls over and switches to text.]


It is almost Christmas and still there is so much to do! Let us continue to prepare for the winter, for he is already here amongst us, freezing our hands and feet.

Welcome to the new arrivals! I am the nation of France and it is a pleasure of course.

Private message to Rosemary:Collapse )

[ACTION FOR HIS ROOMIES OR ANYONE IN DISCEDO. He's either laying around or wandering in the snow with a large feathered pirate hat that's adorned with mistletoe.]
01 December 2011 @ 05:34 am
[Some time around the evening of the 30th, there is a broadcast.

A very French broadcast. Because France is in it. You can't beat that, okay.

The lighting is dramatic and France himself seems to be sitting in a chair, leaned back against the sill of a window and the wall, so he's essentially in front of the window with his feet propped up off screen.]

... Bonsoir, Fortuna.

[He removes the cigarette from his mouth and sighs through the edifice into the open air. The smoke curls 'round. He is so dramatic you can practically hear the music playing.

No really. Where is that very very soft music coming from?

You'll never know.]

It has come to my attention that I, the nation of romance, have not tended to my duties properly. What are those, you ask?

[HE FACES THE CAMERA AT LAST. There is a confident smile on his lips.]

We are fighting to survive, I know this. But... Even so! [a wave of his hand] The human instinct--ah, even the instinct of life itself!--is not only to survive but to live well. It is my duty, my desire and obligation, to assist not only my citizens but anyone who wishes it, in this endeavor.

Je suis--Ah, I am France, and whatever you need--be it advice, friendly company, the best cooking on the planet, or just someone handsome to look at, I am at your disposal.

Not to do this--Non! It is unacceptable. [He snaps his fingers--

--he's holding a rose in bloom in addition to that cigarette. France's sleeves are rolled up look he can be mysterious too. He brings it to his face and breathes in the scent with a happy sigh.]

The brother of Europe--[his other hand waves at himself, indicating who he's talking about]--of the world--he is here for you.

[With a wave, the feed cuts off. Shortly after, a text translation is posted, word for word so everyone can read it.]
. . . |

I do not have enough cigarettes for this. Mon Dieu.

For once can I have a good sleep? Is that too much to ask? Apparently it is!

[ooc: YEAH FOURTH WALL. Backtag friendly like the title says, especially 'cause I'm semi-outta commission from my surgery and I know y'all are busy.

Francis is in his apartment (dressed) and cooking. Have at it! C: ]
[England's fist has just crashed into France's face. The Frenchman lies on his back, dressed in something out of the late 1700's. His ornate collar is distinctly drenched in blood, but not from this fight.

His hands flash out and grip England's wrists and--something is so strange to him, strange enough that he doesn't retaliate--until his ire flashes abruptly after the pause, unforgiving; he clenches England's wrists harshly and uses the other man's weight against him, flinging him off to the side without letting go in order to bring him crashing against the ground.]

Bloody fucking Christ--! [England hits the ground hard, the hesitation of shock giving France enough opportunity to seize his pistol and strike England repeatedly with it, heavy blows crashing the wood and metal into the Englishman's face that is easily covered in blood under the onslaught of France's anger. England's knee shoots up, attempting to land a blow between France's legs, he's swearing and thrashing, spitting blood violently.]

--Goddammit Francis! Piss-drinking filthy bastard--

[Despite England's blows landing, France's fury is undeterred. He scrambles to his feet and swings his heavy boot with a crushing force to England's side. Despite his bleeding foot, gushing and bruised face, England claws at the ground again and begins to scrape to his feet with a snarl.]

[France spins and kicks him back again, only to stomp down and grind his heel into one of England's hands with a sickening crunch of the bones in England's hand and fingers.

The other nation convulses in pain and he screams.]

Now what do you say to the fires of revolution? Are they so inconsequential now, Angleterre?

[While England rolls to cough and spit blood, France finally notices that his little device seems to be glowing. He crosses to it and kneels down, easily turning his back to England, who is struggling to rise to his feet.

His neck, as mentioned, is coated in blood, soaking through his thick and ornate layers and the bandages that wrap around up to his chin. England's blood, however, has been splattered across France's face.]

Oh. Has this box shown this to everyone? My sincerest apologies. I will, what is the phrase... I will shut it off immediately.

[But not before, when England is finally on his feet, France smiles handsomely at the communicator before he glances back, aims his pistol, and fires; England falls with an anguished shout, clutching his shoulder, and the feed ends.]

[ooc note: LAST REAL EVENT POST. Apologizing so hard for slow/late tags, I was informed I need surgery in Nov and then got a nasty cold--in any case, will be backtagging so feel free to hit the others up as you will!

OPTION A: Having France answer still during his event, technically--so it will be France during the year 1794. He's a bit unhinged uh-- ICly this will be a few hours after.

OPTION B: France will answer the next morning, back to normal. Pick which one you'd like.

Action is only available for those in Latimir! If you're so inclined.]
[Who likes pirate hats? Big fancy hats? Hats with feathers?

Or swords. Who likes those?

You won't be disappointed.

A handsome older teenager with hair past his shoulders loosely tied back, dressed in a grand coat with very wide sleeves, a tunic, white stockings and short stocky leather boots. You can bet your ass there is plate armor and leather underneath the finery. There is a hungry look of triumph on the man's face as he whirls his longsword, the ornate handle and polished blade flashing across the feed.

It isn't simple fencing footwork France displays but practical, vicious swings of that heavy sword one would use in battle. Every movement, every step is fluid, impossibly fast; showy, but incredibly precise. It's passionate, and yet somehow very, very cold.

Within the blink of an eye that sword has been sheathed. France's eyes are almost maniacal despite the fact that his smile is eerily inviting. He seems full of energy--excited.

But he's also pale.]

Victoire pour le royaume de France!

[He reaches to the communicator, switching to text.]

Hello Fortuna. I have returned, I see. It has been so, so long since I last visited. I am whole again at home! Whole at last, with my kingdom reaching across the continents in this glorious new century.

I mean no offense, but I hope to return home again soon. I cannot afford to be away.

Autriche! Angleterre! May I speak with each of you?

[ooc: 1550's. He remembers being here as Gaul, among a few other things. Of interest to Austria, Romano/Romana and England is this.]
[Tap tap.

Tap tap.

Very, very young eyes peeking out from rather pretty gold hair are inspecting this foreign object. He has no inclination that it's recording. The only thing that can record something in his time is a hand, a stylus and paper; or alternatively, a chisel on stone.

He leans back looking quite skeptical. This young boy is unamused, but ever so curious.]

Quid hōc est? Eh... [His lip sticks out and he backs away, dressed in the clothes as pictured in that lovely icon. He brandishes a knife, inspecting it, having temporarily lost interest in the strange lit device.] Lupa! Qui vir odiosus!

[THIS KNIFE WILL HAVE TO DO. But, next door, a THUMP can be heard. The child turns and even over the communicator one can easily hear a very British:]

--Oh bugger! Where's he gone to?

[Gaul's face splits into a childish, highly amused grin and he laughs quietly.] Hehe! [His expression turns playfully vicious and he fixes the knife at his belt--it's apparent now that he's in a kitchen, and he's looking for another knife.]

Flamma fumo est proxima, eh? [Temporarily satisfied, he crosses back to the communicator and peers into it. Something about it... it seems familiar. Clearly it's some kind of magic, but he taps on it again. He remembers like a dream--"use this"--

And-- Something else...

Something strange...]

... Salvē? Quis tu... ? Non... non intellego...

Francis! [A huff, the sharp shutting of a door, and approaching footsteps distract him enough to--well, they startle him, and he grabs the communicator, shutting it off immediately.]

[ooc: Regular text is ... Gaul, green is Rosemary/England.

Just as a note, I don't know Latin whatsoever, so I apologize to anyone who does know it. For characters who ICly know Latin, I'll provide the rough translation of what he's saying:

"What is this?" "Whore (she-wolf). This is boring." "There is no smoke without fire."

"Hello?" "Who are you?" "I don't understand."

Basically he does have his memories from Discedo, but of course they're more like dreams to him. Don't know Latin? Feel free to text him, the magic device that can send words will be an endless curiosity and of course text always translates. Expect typos and odd swearing. For the characters who can speak Latin, I'm just going to conduct it as "Latin" in the comment title (unless it's action of course) so I don't have to write it out or drag a scholar to translate everything for me accurately. LOL

ACTION IN DISCEDO IS GO! He will be wandering around/outside this apartment complex with a few knives but he is for the most part a nice child...]
07 October 2011 @ 06:09 pm
[This is France, crouched somewhere dark. The light of the communicator glints off the glass lenses of the goggles covering his eyes. Even with damp cloth bands covering his nose and mouth he still coughs roughly, still breathes in the noxious fumes; but he can still be understood in both French and English.

For now, his words are English, and his eyes are stricken wide--searching, straining. It's a wonder the camera isn't shaking, but he always did have steady hands, didn't he? It remains to be seen whether or not those will actually help keep him alive, however.

Most strangely, what can be seen of his surroundings is dim, but as light breaks through some far off window, statuesque silhouettes appear...

then vanish.

He shivers, swallowing, and only has two words to begin this transmission.]

... Don't blink. D-don't-- Don't blink. The statues, they move. They are like angels trapped in endless sorrow--u-until they reveal themselves, them with their vicious teeth and snarling stone faces... When you blink, they-- When you cannot see them, they strike within an instant. I have seen bodies snapped in half, necks broken by solid statues--! [He wheezes and coughs heavily.


The light temporarily flickers out and when it returns, France shouts and stumbles back. The communicator falls from his hand and lands on the floor. Only a shadow of a stone statue is frozen in front of France, looming over him with its wings spread, its robes chiseled in its most terrifying defense mechanism. Stone fingers are reaching out, predatory, longing. France himself is breathing heavily, struggling so hard to look away or blink. The communicator flickers, and there is static.]

█ ▌ ▍ ▎ ▏ ▒▓▐░▒▓ot. Blin▒▏▒▓▓

Do not bli▓▐░▒▓al the light and--whe ▎ou cannot see, they--▏▒ ▎▓▓do not--

[France grips the communicator and shuffles back, away.]

▓▐░▒eu, mon Dieu thes▓▐░▒e ang▓▐░▒ of Hell--!

Angl▓▐▓▓░▒Fuck, Ameri▓▌ ▍▓hine, Grè▌ ▍Rosemar▌ ▍▏▒ rthur is gone, that bast▏▒▓▐░▒ left us, he fucking left.

S'il vou▒▓▓▐░ait, listen to me--! ▓▓▐░▒ ▌ ▍ ▎- - -

[The feed cuts out as he jumps up to run.]

[ooc: BECAUSE HETALIA AND DOCTOR WHO ARE QUITE AMAZING TOGETHER. Anyway, here's another taste of DW's terrifying creatures. The Weeping Angels. It's not impossible to escape them, and France will get out by the skin of his teeth, but here's some info:

"The Weeping Angels have a unique and nearly-perfect defense mechanism: quantum-locking, which caused them to turn into stone when being observed. It can also be done by instinct, when they believe they were being watched. When not being observed they can move incredibly fast, but that also means they have to cover their eyes or they'll lock into stone for eternity if they look at each other.

Neat! **iMPORTANT:**Anything with the image of the Angel, such as pictures or film, also gains the abilities of an Angel and will eventually become an Angel. When victims look an Angel in the eyes, the Angel can infect their eyes creating an image in their mind. Thus affected, the victim can be mentally influenced by the Angel until it becomes fully grown, at which point it can escape the person's body (killing them in the process). This ability could only be stopped by shutting down the visual center aka closing your eyes--but you've got to keep them closed until the event is over or someone manages to smash the stone to bits.

Also they feed off electricity/radiation/any kind of energy, and rather than sending you back in time they'll just kill you or use you as a vessel until you die. DON'T LOOK 'EM IN THE EYES, MAN. They feed off light energy as well, so say good-bye to your lights. And then your life. Note: In theory if you walked around with your eyes closed and acted like you can see, they will believe they are being watched too.

By the way, you can smash the stone to bits. HAVE FUN WITH THAT.

Feel free to talk to France though, he'll be running and hiding and able to talk and not record angels. Feel free to run into him/them though etc!]

29 September 2011 @ 03:57 pm
Bonjour! It seems it's time for me to make several announcements as well as requests!

When we are finished assisting those ungrateful putes, would anyone like to meet with me in Discedo for a small gathering? To celebrate our accomplishment and keep each other company after such a hard time. Oh! And if you bring the ingredients, I will cook!~

Oui, anyone is invited, but I need an estimate of who will join us.

If there is anyone in Spero who will cross over to Discedo through the tunnel while we are working on it, tell me, s'il vous plait. It is important I know. I am there assisting with the work and food, of course.

[locked to ROSEMARY:]

[in French:] ... Eh... Angleterre, I must speak with you.

[locked to ARTHUR:]

[Also in French:] You. Moi. There are things we need to discuss. If you aren't still alive, I will find you and kill you myself.

[ooc: France is taking a breather on the shore of the lake. And by breather I mean he's pacing frustratedly and it... strangely looks as though he's contemplating going for a swim.

note1: IM me at MayorOfCantown if anyone wants to plot! I had him post in the work log. He also lives in Latimir and he's been making frequent supply runs so if you want to say they've met, just let me know in IM or somethin'!]