France (Francis Bonnefoy) (
paysdelamour) wrote in
arcanarumlogs2012-08-26 02:05 pm
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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! ))
outside, mid morning
"Good morning. ... are you doing all right?"
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outside, afternoon
Walking back, Teddie had gotten some of the supplies by coaxing them out of the people at the shopping district. It was good that he didn't use the bear costume all the time. With his long, curly blond hair pulled up in a ponytail, he just walked down the street to see France.
Hurrying over to him, he quickly hugs the man tightly as he almost cries.
"Francis-chan!! You're back!" Teddie said, hugging onto him tightly, the contents of his bag on the ground now. Most of it was candy...
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outside, near the violet district, late afternoon?
.. You know.. [ not that her tone isn't just deadpan as usually. ] you look like you've seen better days.
[ so helpful, ange. ]
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late evening - the park
The park was just one decent place to go for a run. He didn't mind the cold temperatures and while the sky darkened above, the nation stuck in an awfully mortal body could... Think. Because there were many things he had to think about. The recent events for once. But also he had to roll ideas and information around if he wanted to form a solid plan to go against their captors. Because he was sick of it already. They would pay. For trapping everyone here and playing with them. He would make sure of that.
The German idly noticed another person up ahead. At this hour that was a bit odd, but Germany wasn't going to question anyone's motives. He was here himself after all. And it was only once he got closer to that person that he slowly began to recognize a familiar shape...
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Outside- Morning
She also realized she was becoming more like her denizen when after Francis death, she did not cry. Yoko shed tears for him as she watched him but after that the tears seemed to dry up.
Though she had enough of her past thoughts and decided this morning she would continue her routine of her morning jog. Yoko took her morning as any other before the festivities. She began on her usual route and before she knew it Yoko was getting lost in the rhythm of her feet and breathing. All of this took a stand still when a familiar figure appeared in front of her, simply walking along the cobbled road. Yoko's eyes widened and time froze for a moment and she broke from her dream-like state of mind.
Cautiously, Yoko slowed her jogging, approaching Francis. She chewed on her lower lip. It was...It was him. And relief with a mixture of fear bubbled in her chest. Yoko slowly reached out to pat his shoulder.
"Francis...I-..how? How did you return..?" Yoko started out. She had so many questions but at the same time she was not sure how to even word them.
I am sorry this is so short ;; and late...
♥ never worry bb~ we can take our time. Yoko likes it nice and slow./shot
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their unit, night (or whenever France returns to it)
Not knowing of the strange power of the island that resurrected the dead, he received the shock of his life when he heard noises originating from France's room. At first, he was too frightened to take a look, but eventually he plucked up the courage to sneak over to the door, inch it open and peek through the crack. His eyes widened upon seeing France clutching the wall and staggering to the door, so shocked that he crouched there without saying anything and missed his chance to call out to the man.
Retreating to his bed again, Howl huddled beneath the blankets while he came to terms with what he had just seen. France had died; he'd seen the man's last breath leave him. So how...?
He waited all day for his house mate to return. Other than the occasional foray into the kitchen for food, he stayed mostly in his room and experimented with a few spells, listening for the sound of the door opening and shutting that might mean France had returned.
sorry for late/shortness
also sorry for lateness ;;
Re: also sorry for lateness ;;
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/finally rolls in orz
/rolls with ;u;