04. upon thyself thy beauty's legacy

[keepscalm]

Characters: England and all of the cultured people. Open!
Setting: Floor 25.
Format: Starting action, but will match!
Summary: England is having a teatime picnic. It's long overdue. Threadjacking is okay and welcomed! Join an existing thread and make it a tea party or make a new thread.
Warnings: Probably language since it's England. Also possibly threadjacking, so just say in the subject if you don't want that!

[So there is no fancy garden table and chairs or quaint little sitting room, but the innocuous spring floor is almost as nice. He's laid out a length of cloth snatched from the workshop floor to act as a makeshift blanket, and has a teaset out, with a full pot of tea, multiple cups, and sugar. No milk or honey, due to the restrictions of the Tower's kitchen, but he can deal.

And he's actually smiling a little. Do you dare risk disrupting him in this almost fugue-like state?

Of course you do, he's just a silly grump with pretty plates and big eyebrows. Come join him for tea.]

Comments

[guiltapalooza]

[Willow's frankly a little doubtful that something this major could be going on in her world and she wouldn't have heard about it, but hey, it's possible. She isn't Giles.

So she just nods along.] Now that I'm getting used to the idea, this actually sounds nifty! Doesn't that make you, like, ancient? [... Oops was that insulting? She hastens to add,] I'm just asking because, haha, still used to thinking of my history homework, and how convenient would that be?

Usually I ask Giles because he's well-educated and British and also used to be employed by the public school system, but you're like the original Brit. I bet you even like Marmite.

[keepscalm]

[Well. At least she didn't call him "old man". Like some people do.] Indeed. [He pauses to do a bit of math.] One thousand eighty-four...or eighty-five -- I can't quite recall the time of year, I was still very young -- since my first formal unification in 927 AD. Though I have been in this world for longer than that still. [Realizing this may be confusing, England quickly goes to explain.] The personification often comes about before the nation officially does.

For example, I was not present when America appeared. He was already a child by the time I found him. [There's something a bit distant in his voice, that grows farther away as the statement goes on. He comes back to himself as rapidly as he got lost, however.] With that in mind, I couldn't tell you my actual age, in all honesty. I had other things to worry about besides counting down with the calendar. [Not to mention that some of those memories, with the muddling of records, have become foggy, as well.

Teal-deer aside, England clears his throat and briefly averts his eyes, almost pouting.] Any potential enjoyment of Marmite on my part is completely coincidental. [No it's not. But geez, did they have to bring his taste in food into this?]

[guiltapalooza]

[She listens to this attentively, interested in the history and enthused about it.] Man, anyone I've met before that was that old pretty much just wanted my guts for garters. More of the demon-y persuasion. This is nifty!

I'm glad you told me. [She gives him a wide smile, flattered that he'd trust her with it.] I'll refrain from the mocking about food, I promise, just still kinda getting used to the whole idea so the jokes slip out.

[keepscalm]

Ah, so you've encountered those nasty buggers too? Absolute menaces, some of them are. [spoilers Willow he also sees magical creatures. But apparently she does too, so.]

Admittedly I'm glad to be doing the telling. It's a little tiring masquerading as a human. [Not that he really does so intentionally, but it just seems like so much more work to explain the alternative.] Don't know how you lot manage it sometimes.

[...and then he grimaces.] As for the jokes, it's not as if I'm not used to them. [You can rib him, Willow. He'll eventually be comfortable enough to rib back!]

[guiltapalooza]

[Doesn't everyone see magical creatures? Why wouldn't he?] I've encountered lots of those nasty buggers. My town was built on top of a portal to hell. [She says this very matter-of-factly.]

I think we manage it because it isn't a masquerade, [she says with a slight grin.] But yeah, keeping stuff like that to yourself is tiresome. I'm pretty awful with secrets.

[She's probably going to tease him anyway, but maybe a little more gently until he gets used to it.] Yeah, but a thousand years of used to them probably makes them the stalest of stale.

[keepscalm]

I'd wager that'd make it a real estate agent's worst nightmare. [He'd get pretty tired of demons coming in uninvited if he were Willow.]

It's still not easy, even if it's what you're used to. [He glares contemplatively into his tea.] Or such is my understanding. Can't say for sure, of course, since I've never been human.

Though at least it's given me more time to refine my sense of humour. [He's asking to be made fun of, to be honest.]