[-The scene is a little dark when the video flickers on, but light enough that objects can be distinguished in the background, in particular a few small boxes arranged upon the desk and a box resting atop France's bed. France himself is turning a palm-sized packet over and over between his hands idly.]Les jours que nous avons passés, mes yeux te cherchent sans arrêt...
[His voice is barely audible as he sings lowly then glances up at the camera with a gleam in his eye, a knowing look as he breaks open the seal at the top of the packet. He flicks the bottom of the packet and a little stick pops out the top, a dark cigarette. France turns to fully face the desk and brings the packet closer to the camera lens, making the word 'Gauloises Caporal'
visible on the front of the blue wrapping.]
Is somebody interested? Ask nicely, I may share.
[When the video flickers on, a rather enthusiastic-looking France appears not to be sat sensibly at the desk, but is rather moving about in front of the camera, seemingly tidying things away with a cheerful grin plastered on his face. It takes a few seconds before the audio cuts in suddenly, with a fuzzy click, giving you the sound of this nation humming to himself.]
[Doesn't really look like he's trapped in a prison...]
Ah! Oui, tous le monde!
[-he perks up and bends slightly to make eye contact with the camera.]
Are you lonely? Bored? [Laughs.] No need to answer, this place has its amusements. But if anybody should wish to join Spain and myself for discussion and tapas, then we shall be in the music room! On the, mm, second floor.~
[Straightens up again to grab a sheet of notepaper, concealing an evidently happy grin on his lips.]
Yes, yes, around this evening. Just for chatting, or, well, if your sense of taste needs a delicious new lift...
...Oh! Et! There will be sangria~! So we'll see you all later, bring your friends! Bring your enemies! À plus tard, compagnons!
[A final wink as he reaches forward to snap the video feed off.]
[ooc; Spain and France are holding a fabulous tapas night so we can
bitch about the doctors share in pleasurable discussion. A log will appear within the next day or so depending on how much sleep I get, so look forward to that, and please, we'd like as many of you to participate as possible! ♥]
[As the video feed clicks on, somewhat fuzzy at first but clearing up, France can be seen at his desk with an expression creased in contemplation, a pen balanced between his fingers and his palm mostly covering his mouth. He murmurs in French to himself quietly, not having noticed the video feed;]
Starters are done, salads are done, wines... What about dessert... I should check the fridge settings--
[On one side of the desk rests a short stack of books, mostly related to cooking and nutrition judging from the names on the spines, presumably from the second floor's library- the rest of the desk is littered with pieces of notepaper, some covered in scribbles and others with faint sketches. There are even a few scraps folded into the books to mark the pages. One book is open in front of him and France is jotting quick notes onto a pad resting on the double-spread.]
[After a minute or so of this, France pushes aside a few notes and sighs, seemingly finished with what he's been writing. He flexes his fingers and stills, looking down at the double-spread of the nutrition book, before speaking, quite unexpectedly, in English.]
Friday. Just two...
[This is in the early hours, maybe twenty minutes or so after Prussia's insane laughing fit. It starts with a click as the audio is switched on- then a slight creak and shift of clothing, as if someone is leaning back in their chair. And a soft bump as hands are rested on a surface.]
J'en ai marre de ce cirque.
Vraiment, j'en ai ras-le-bol.
Ça me dérange, ce silence, cette manque de communication et de tendresse. [A short noise of frustration..]
--Non, pas communication, plutôt le savoir. Les docteurs, ils refusent de nous donner les détails de notre enfermement. Évidemment, ils ne nous croient pas du tout. Mais la Prussie, lui, il sait quelque-chose- même s'il a l'air d'un fou sauvage. Il n'a jamais su se taire, pauvre homme.[Crisp silence.]
. Plus un pays. Sans peuplage, ni la puissance d'une armée.
Un homme, c'est tout.
Combien de jours et de nuits faut-il que la mort viens á un seul homme?[After a few seconds, the audio shuts off.]( Translated.Collapse )
[There are a few muffled taps on the microphone]
"Bonj--" [A loud THUD and some crashing is heard, followed by another thud]
"Rôôôhhh mais enfin! Marche, espèce de--" [crash] "--trucmuche de con--" [crash] "--sale objet d'enfer, ça va avec tes putain de conneries maintenant, hein?! Bon!! Et MARCHE!!" [an almighty crackling noise, and then eerie silence for over a minute. When it resumes, the voice is crisp and clear.]
"Ça va, tout va bien, héhé c'est ça... Good day! In the event that I am fatally injured or conspired against before I make my wonderful escape, I shall be recording this en Anglais! C'est merveilleux, non? This way, even that grognon de première classe can understand the pain I have been subjected to. N'est-ce-pas, Arthûr?"
[coughs and adjusts the volume a little higher]
"Upon exploration of the kitchen, a certain fact has been drawn to my attention. Some ingredients, like tea, are obscuring the other, more exquisite products that are just dying to be tried! Some of the more refined and important countries will know this, while the less fashionable ones do not!
In short, I bid that you all try the coffee. It is delicious."
Hello! Et bonjour~
This is the RP journal for Francis Bonnefoy, France
in Axis Powers Hetalia roleplays.
Currently RPing at sanctuary_rpg
. Main account is starfishyfish
if you really love me :D *nudgenudgewinkwink*. RP/non-RP journals indicated by 'rp' or 'ooc' tags below. c:
This is also a concrit post. Please feel free to tell me if you feel something's wrong or off with my characterisation of France or if you think a certain something needs improving.
Declarations of love are also welcome~
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