France (Francis Bonnefoy) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
paysdelamour) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
arcanarumlogs2012-08-26 02:05 pm
paysdelamour) wrote in arcanarumlogs2012-08-26 02:05 pm
The dire wolf collects his dues, while the boys sing round the fire
Who: France and you!
When: November 1st, from about noon to sunset
Where: All over the island - feel free to meet him anywhere!
What: France is alive, but contemplating his successive deaths in the forest, and is appreciating life just a little more. Also he looks terrible.
Warnings: Mentions of death and small mentions of bile, lots of ~feelings~. Likely lots of tearful reunions.
It was with a jolt that Francis woke, as he sat straight up with a gasp. But his head began to spin, his whole body tingled as he remembered the scene in the forest, with the wolf slashing at his flesh. It almost seemed like a dream, now, but it felt so real -
Francis felt the bile rising in his throat and in a rush he tried to clamber out of bed, to get to the bathroom, but his limbs just wouldn't work - they were numb from not being used for several days. So he ended up on all fours on the floor, retching, body trembling all over from the nostalgic chills of pain, from the phantom feeling of missing flesh despite his side looking very much present, and him being very much alive. France felt as if he was going to be sick again, but he had nothing in his stomach in the first place, so the little bit of bile was all that stained his floor, as he continued to dry heave for what seemed like an eternity. Damn this mortal body! Francis thought to himself, eyes closed, teeth gritted, as he tried to get it back under his control.
Once it seemed to be done, Francis coughed, wiping off his mouth on the back of his sleeve. He recognized it - the old, blood-stained, red costume he was forced to wear that night. Thankfully, the hat and the mask were completely gone. But that thing... it still felt wrong to be in it. And with the slight smell of blood... well, it was almost making him sick, again. So he decided to quickly change out of it into something else. He tugged off the coat, throwing it to the side - the shirt went over his head and in the same pile. The boots he had to sit on the floor to tug off, and the leggings were (thankfully) easy to remove. Shakily, he stood back up, and went to his wardrobe to look at his choices. He pulled on a simple shirt and pair of slacks - but he had to lean against the wardrobe to get dressed, and he couldn't even really be bothered with buttons or laces, so he ended up also slipping on a pair of loafers.
Once Francis has changed out of his old costume and fixed his room (thank god his imagination could get rid of his bile and that old costume for good), he carefully used the wall to climb out into the main room of his house. But that wasn't what he was interested in - he wanted to go outside. So, he used the wall to make it to the front door, and stepped outside.
Then sun felt good on his face. It almost made him feel better, somehow, and it was what finally got him to take a trembling step on his own, away from any support. Within a few minutes, he felt as if he could walk again, and so he started around the island, looking at everything again with new eyes. But something still plagued his thoughts, and that was the thought of his death in the forest. He remembered distinctly that he had said his last goodbyes to a number of people. Was he going mad? He had remembered distinct times when he felt himself giving his last breath. And they were multiple. But that was impossible, unless...
(( ooc: Please specify time and location in the title of your post! Thank you! ))
When: November 1st, from about noon to sunset
Where: All over the island - feel free to meet him anywhere!
What: France is alive, but contemplating his successive deaths in the forest, and is appreciating life just a little more. Also he looks terrible.
Warnings: Mentions of death and small mentions of bile, lots of ~feelings~. Likely lots of tearful reunions.
It was with a jolt that Francis woke, as he sat straight up with a gasp. But his head began to spin, his whole body tingled as he remembered the scene in the forest, with the wolf slashing at his flesh. It almost seemed like a dream, now, but it felt so real -
Francis felt the bile rising in his throat and in a rush he tried to clamber out of bed, to get to the bathroom, but his limbs just wouldn't work - they were numb from not being used for several days. So he ended up on all fours on the floor, retching, body trembling all over from the nostalgic chills of pain, from the phantom feeling of missing flesh despite his side looking very much present, and him being very much alive. France felt as if he was going to be sick again, but he had nothing in his stomach in the first place, so the little bit of bile was all that stained his floor, as he continued to dry heave for what seemed like an eternity. Damn this mortal body! Francis thought to himself, eyes closed, teeth gritted, as he tried to get it back under his control.
Once it seemed to be done, Francis coughed, wiping off his mouth on the back of his sleeve. He recognized it - the old, blood-stained, red costume he was forced to wear that night. Thankfully, the hat and the mask were completely gone. But that thing... it still felt wrong to be in it. And with the slight smell of blood... well, it was almost making him sick, again. So he decided to quickly change out of it into something else. He tugged off the coat, throwing it to the side - the shirt went over his head and in the same pile. The boots he had to sit on the floor to tug off, and the leggings were (thankfully) easy to remove. Shakily, he stood back up, and went to his wardrobe to look at his choices. He pulled on a simple shirt and pair of slacks - but he had to lean against the wardrobe to get dressed, and he couldn't even really be bothered with buttons or laces, so he ended up also slipping on a pair of loafers.
Once Francis has changed out of his old costume and fixed his room (thank god his imagination could get rid of his bile and that old costume for good), he carefully used the wall to climb out into the main room of his house. But that wasn't what he was interested in - he wanted to go outside. So, he used the wall to make it to the front door, and stepped outside.
Then sun felt good on his face. It almost made him feel better, somehow, and it was what finally got him to take a trembling step on his own, away from any support. Within a few minutes, he felt as if he could walk again, and so he started around the island, looking at everything again with new eyes. But something still plagued his thoughts, and that was the thought of his death in the forest. He remembered distinctly that he had said his last goodbyes to a number of people. Was he going mad? He had remembered distinct times when he felt himself giving his last breath. And they were multiple. But that was impossible, unless...
(( ooc: Please specify time and location in the title of your post! Thank you! ))
no subject
"Oui." France agreed, looking up at the sky again, before letting out a little chuckle. "It is almost like being reborn, non? After such a scary thing..."
France didn't seem to feel ready to talk about his experience yet, but it was a good sign that he still wanted to talk.
no subject
"Yeah... that's a good way of putting it..."