towerofanimus | Second movement

Entry tags:

Second movement

Characters: AU2 France and YOU
Setting: Floor 28
Format: Either
Summary: Francisca explores and decides to relax with some music.
Warnings: none yet

It was the first time in weeks that Francisca had left the company of Francis to wander the Tower alone. Part of it was because she wanted to make sure he was safe, and she herself felt protected when with him.
However, she knew she'd have to gather herself up again, so when she'd found out new floors had appeared, she'd bitten the bullet and gone to explore after breakfast.

She was pleasantly surprised at the floor of instruments, and had eagerly entered, fingers quick to stroke over them. Artistic expression was a wonderful way for her to unwind, be it through painting or dancing, or making music. She certainly wasn't anywhere near as skilled as some of the other nations, and much preferred listening to her own musical geniuses, but still.

She was alone, and she wasn't in France.

Her fingers closed over a lovely violin, checking to make sure it was tuned before lifting it to her shoulder. After a few experimental notes, she stood comfortably and began to play Poulenc's Violin Sonata, lost in the music and not noticing when the piano began to join in without a player.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

There was only one instrument John could play with any capability, and that was the piano.

It was obvious, listening from the floor below, that whoever was playing that sonata already had a pianist. But as he walked up to the next floor and looked around for the duo responsible, all he saw was one woman, on the violin; the piano's keys seemed to be pressing themselves. John was only fazed by this for a second -- clearly he has spent too much time in the Tower to be surprised by ghosts playing piano -- and started looking around for a second piano to see if he could play along. Eventually, he realized there was only one. The piano abruptly stopped playing as he approached it. In the end, it was only a lapse for a couple of seconds, because John eventually slipped right in with Francisca.

Francisca didn't notice John even when she paused in playing, almost believing that the piano accompaniment was playing in her head from memory before picking up on cue. It wasn't until she faltered with the piece, frowning as she found she couldn't remember how it went, that she stopped, violin lowering from her shoulder as she realized she wasn't alone.

She smiled, just a tad tiredly, as she lowered the violin and bow to her sides. "I didn't hear you come in... you play beautifully."

Dave had a bit of a knack to sleeping in random places. The only difference here was that he had to make sure it wasn't a floor that might potentially have something dangerous that would kill him. He just didn't always like sleeping in the room he was assigned, given that he had roommates. It wasn't like he hated them, but he definitely wasn't fond of the idea of sharing the space when it came to sleeping.

"I am way too used to weird shit." Dave had set up a bunch of pillows underneath the piano, and just laying against them. The piano was far from obnoxious and he's dealt with louder.

Dave actually has no idea Francisca was the same person who sang him lullabies to get him to sleep, but she felt familiar. "Hey, what's your name?"

Yeah, maybe he had kinda gotten lost in it too. So it took him a few moments to realize that the woman had stopped playing and was looking at him; once he did, he took his hands off of the keys, and they proceeded to start chirping something else. "Thanks," he said, smiling sheepishly. "My dad taught me how to play when I was really young."

Francisca glanced at the piano and would have rolled her eyes - it reminded her too much of the terrible theme park haunted houses she'd been dragged to by America and England.

Her smile grew at his answer. "Your father, hmm? Sounds like he taught you well."

Francisca jerked out of her reverie and abruptly stopped playing, the piano falling silent with her. She smiled wanly at the boy and murmured, "I didn't see you there..." putting the violin and bow down on a chair.

Her brow creased and she frowned a bit, Dave's voice familiar and something about his build...

But then he'd asked her a question, and she'd be rude not to answer, so she shook her head and smiled again. "Ah, Francisca Bonnefoy. You can call me France if that seems too much. And you, mon cher?"

"That was kind of the point. Don't want people snooping on my prone, sleeping form," he replied as he moved to get out from under the piano.

...Except he ends up hitting his head against the piano when he stood up too quickly. He hadn't expected that name to come out. "Fuck." He rubbed the back of his head, standing upright with a bit of a scowl.

"It's Dave. I think we already met. Talked, I mean. I wouldn't be asking who you were if we met already. But this is probably a lot better than the first time. I mean, because neither of us are dying and we're not playing some terrible game with a bunch of crappy teddy bears. But let's pretend I didn't say the latter because that is not a memory lane I'm interested in traveling down right now." He's not even sure if you understood most of that. He's kind of started mumbling the more he spoke.

"Dieu, are you okay??" she gasped, quickly moving over to him and putting a hand to his head where he'd banged it. The look of concern on her face quickly turned to shock, her entire body freezing for a moment.

"... Oh."

She caught some of his mumbling and she took the time to glance over him properly. Yes, he was the right build as the skinned body she'd found, paler than she'd expected - last she'd checked America's children had decided tan was the way to go. Her lips quirked up a bit in the beginnings of a smile as she murmured, "Well. You look better than you did in the game."

She plucked at his shirt sleeve. "Still red though. Not as red at least." Great, she was babbling now.

She shook her head and resumed examining his recently abused one, fingers carefully feeling out the area where a bump is sure to form.

[Minako had joined many of the other residents in exploring the new floors of the Tower today. It was a lot like going through the levels of Tartarus, testing the waters of what could and couldn't be done in each new floor-- except there was a much higher level of danger. Death could be instantaneous if one pushed too far.

This floor must safe though, she decides, as peers into the room and watches Francisca play a beautiful, serene song on a violin. She doesn't want to disturb the woman, so she slips in and sits to keep listening at the piano bench.]

"Yeah. My head just decided I had to get pretty intimate with the underside of this piano. Warned you about sleeping under pianos or something," he grumbled out.

He'd probably burn if he tried tanning anyways. A burnt Dave is not a happy Dave. "You saw me?" Oh shit. "Yeah...sorry. Hopefully you didn't eat before playing. Seeing your meal a second time is never fun. I mean, seeing me like...yeah. Sorry." He can talk properly. Honest.

"Red is pretty badass. Can't help it if I look damn amazing in this shit."

Oh no. What are you doing? He's not used to your motherly ways.

"I'll keep that in mind for future and avoid sleeping under any," she answered, voice dry.

She shrugged at his apology, keeping her gaze focused on the top of his head and trying to keep her voice even. "Being sick wasn't an option - I had to go around with a mouthful of sake that if I spat out or swallowed, the remaining bears would have had a field day."

When he continued babbling and claiming red to be his colour, she laughed and stopped examining his head, smoothing out his hair and noting with amusement how it stuck up slightly at the back like a bird. "Why yes, red does suit you rather well. I'm surprised you haven't dyed your hair red or put on red nail polish to match," she teased.

[Francisca doesn't notice Minako, but whatever it is powering the other instruments in the room certainly does. The piano increases in volume from the moment Minako takes seat, and a flute rises in the air to start playing along to the duet, improvising quite well for a disembodied player.]

In retrospect, sleeping underneath a piano sounds like a ridiculously stupid idea. But oh well.

"Oh. I'm glad you didn't die." Really, he was kind of glad she got through to the end. She was nice. And she's still being fairly nice to him, even if he isn't sure why. He may have grumbled a bit how he's fine and didn't really have to make sure he was or not.

"I'm probably way more attractive as a blonde. I'd be going overboard with I dyed my hair red, too. Plus, keeping up with the color in this place just sounds like a pain." He held his hand out, as though to admire his nails. "Haven't found anyone who's offered. I'd look drop dead gorgeous with red though. Maybe I could get matching heels while I'm at it.

She smiled, the expression a bit tired and sad again as she answered, "I'm glad you're alive."

He certainly was sassier when not on the verge of death. She held back a laugh when he examined his nails, quipping nonchalantly, "Oh if you're interested I certainly can oblige," while holding her own scarlet nails up. "And you can take one of my shoes for a spin if you think you can hold your balance in them."

Smirking just a bit challengingly she asked, "Do you want a shot with some make up as well?"

"It's gonna take a little more to keep me dead. I've joined the ranks of kids that refuse to stay down. Gonna have to take me kicking and screaming. Striders just so happen to be made of the toughest material." Or so he likes to think and hope.

"Can you do those fancy, over-the-top things? Like painting Mona Lisas onto tiny ass fingernails. I want only the cutest things on my nails," he replies with a bit of a grin. "Hell no. No amount of bribing is going to convince me that walking in heels is not just asking to make love to the floor."

"Slow down. No man or woman will be able to keep their hands off me if we go that far. It's already hard enough keeping them off when I turn on the Strider charm."

She's biting her lips to keep from laughing now, lifting a hand to cover the lower half of her face as she struggles to answer evenly, "I-I could, except the Tower hasn't exactly provided me with the essential tools for such delicate work. I could do something more akin to what those Japanese 'lolita' girls have been doing with sticking ribbons and beads onto their nails though."

She then winces at the mention of stiletto-related accidents. "I wouldn't call that making love. More of a rough qui-" she stopped, took another look at Dave and decided she wasn't going to continue that sentence with a clearly underage boy.

Returning to the game, she stroked her chin and glanced over him with a mock-serious expression. "Given your young face I think we could easily make you into the prettiest lady-boy in this Tower with minimal effort. Though those shades would have to go in such an event."

"Holy shit, I can be anime? Sign me up. I want those cute ribbons with the crappy heart rhinestones." Bro would be so jealous man. Dave being anime before him. Okay, that's a sad thought. Going to just push it to the back of his mind and never come back to it.

"Ouch. That doesn't sound as nice as making love. Definitely passing now. I don't want to wake up sore in places I didn't think I could be sore in. THe floor will just have to find a different unsuspecting victim." It's okay. He lived in an apartment full of plush rumps and the most phallic smuppets.

"How come we can't keep the shades on? it's part of my charm," he replies curtly. Insecurities? He has none. Don't be silly.

He finally got a laugh from her at the anime, which she tried to disguise with a cough. Aaand she was just going to ignore the part with making love because she didn't even want to entertain the notion that the young boy knew more about the birds and the bees than he should.

Nope, not going there.

At the curt response though, she raised a brow, noting the defensiveness in regards to the sunglasses. She answered slowly, "I'm sure they are, but if I'm to make you into the greatest anime drag queen that ever dragged in this Tower, that particular style wouldn't suit the look too well. A bit too masculine, non?"

She then added gently, "Wouldn't the ensemble be better complimenting to your eyes anyway? With the red and all?"

It's not your fault. He just had an awesome guardian who basically ran a pornographic website that included puppets. No one is probably ever going to consider that being a thing.

"The shades would put an ironic twist to things. This fabulous guy all dolled up like every man's wet dream, then bam. The coolest fucking shades that even Kanye West would wear." Might be pushing the irony card a little too much.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, but it was easy to tell that he had balled his hands into fists. The reluctance in his voice obvious, even as he tried to sound as nonchalant about the matter. "I guess." He just...didn't want to talk about his eyes. He liked them enough, but they were different. Weird. Not everyone probably thought of them as normal. Maybe even creepy.

She put a hand to his chin, lifting his face so she could look directly into his eyes, shades or no. "I think that perhaps you should try relaxing those shields of yours'. If there's one blessing of this tower, it's that more often than not, you are going to meet individuals with just as astonishing, if not more so, traits than your beautiful eyes."

She then released his chin and continued airily, "Besides, true irony would be in the fact that most would assume that you in your anime get-up would be wearing contact lenses, while in fact your actual eyes are staring them right in the face~"

"They're not shields." Who is he kidding. Sure, he wore them because he wanted to be like his Bro, but they became more than just childish aspiration. He could hide behind them. Throw up the coolkid demeanor. They were his walls. "Beautiful eyes? You must be talking about your own. Not mine."

"No one here would fall for that anyways. Never mentioned contacts before, like hell someone is going to let me slip by with that excuse without calling me out on it."

"Try that line again in 10 more years."

She slowly tugged on the top of his glasses, making them slide down the bridge of his nose so she could see the bright red eyes. "I must say, they look better with the rest of your skin attached." She gently pushed the glasses back up and put her hands on her hips.

"Well, my price for dolling you up is just that - doing so without those sunglasses," she huffed, putting on an arch tone but the teasing look still in her eyes. "If it bothers you that much, we could put some of those ridiculously long and gem-covered eyelashes on."

John was surprised when she abruptly started to glare at him; but then his gaze flickered over to the piano. Evidently she didn't like its accompaniment. Maybe he just shouldn't tell her that she had been playing alongside it for half of the piece.

"Thanks!" John was man enough to admit that he loved playing piano, especially with his dad; not all people can admit that, you know. Because dressing in a sky blue sweatsuit with a windsock on the hood is just so manly on its own. "I never did it competitively or anything, mostly for fun, so I'm surprised I'm that good." He laughed.

Romeo had been exploring the new floors as well, he liked some of them and some of them were scary. But that was normal. He stared at the music room in awe though, he had no idea how to play any instrument but he was amazed at them he entered the room slowly not wanting to touch anything in case he broke it.

Hearing the music he found miss France, he eyed the Piano warily. Were piano's meant to do that? But he smiled and clapped when she had finished.

Francisca's eyes flew open at the applause, and she nearly dropped the violin as she turned to face Romeo. She didn't notice the piano fall silent either.

A genuinely bright smile appeared on her face and she took a bow before setting down the violin. "Don't I get a hug?" she asked, holding her arms open with an impish grin building on her lips. Really, she hadn't seen Romeo in quite some time and it was wonderful to see that he was alive and well.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

Second movement

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

eeee, finally! OwO

I had to get off hiatus first xD;;

No no, I'm just excited! \owo/

no subject

I love this CR so much omg.

They're so cute together TAT

no subject

They really are. Sobs groassly on

/Sobs on head

/Embraces dramatically

/SWOONS

/rides off into the sunset!

/flops limply along the way

/pokes idly

/wriggles

/pokes again

/squirms-!

no subject

no subject

no subject