A small thank you

[champagnedelis]

Characters: Francisca and YOU
Setting: Kitchens
Format: Starting prose but happy to switch to action~
Summary: Francisca decides to make cake for her friends and loved ones in the tower.
Warnings: None (yet)

Tired-looking but immaculately dressed, Francisca set out the ingredients for her cake, the strawberry jam and bowl of fresh strawberries from breakfast joining the lot for garnishing. For a moment she'd stood there, staring at the food and utensils, absently trying to remember how to make a basic cake of all things... She'd chuckled to herself thinking on how England would react at seeing France at a loss in the kitchen of all places, and started making the batter.

After a moment her hands went on auto-pilot, and the familiar feel of a mixing bowl and spoon in her hands was... comforting. As she stirred the batter into smooth submission, her mind recalled her non-present loved ones, a painful tugging in her heart accompanying the memory of their faces, and then she thought on the new friends she'd made here. Warmth seemed to suffuse her, bringing a pleased flush to her cheeks and a content smile to her lips, as she thought absently on how they might enjoy the cake. Small, simple, not the most elegant of 'thank you's, but still.

Without realizing it, she'd started to hum, checking the batter for lumps before pouring it into the prepared cake-pan.

Comments

[champagnedelis]

Surprisingly, yes.

Francisca shook her head, putting her hands on Jeanne's shoulders - strange, she'd seemed taller when Francisca was younger.

"It's not that I don't believe you," she insisted, voice gentle but firm. "It's that these people in charge of this cursed place have powers beyond our wildest dreams. Know your enemy before you throw yourself into battle."

[faithstaynight]

Pouting isn't quite the word to use for Jeanne's current expression, given the serious tone of the conversation... but she does look a bit disappointed that she's pretty much being told to stand down.

"I will... wait to gather as much information as I can," She said, a bit reluctantly. "But if you know me well, like it seems you do... you should know that I do not like staying idle for too long. If something does happen, an experiment or any sort of strike against those confined here... I will not stay back and simply watch it happen."

[champagnedelis]

Francisca nodded, giving Jeanne's shoulders a gentle squeeze before releasing her. She thought on the horrors she'd seen and lived through in the Tower, and put a hand over her mouth, turning her gaze away from Jeanne because she could easily imagine the same torture being inflicted on her long-lost angel. Having bits of her body skinned and hollowed out, forced to remain alive and to truly feel the pain, or being forced into one of the Tower's deadly games where the only outcome was death of the body... or the soul.

Her hand curled into a white-knuckled fist on the counter and she evenly said, "You are now in Hell, ma petite - steel your heart."

She turned her attention to the strawberries she'd brought out for the cake, and briskly picked up the knife, quickly cutting the bright red fruit into quarters. Her lips curled in a small smile as she noted that even though she was suddenly so afraid for Jeanne, her hands were completely steady.

[faithstaynight]

Jeanne's heart twists a bit at the woman's pain. Ha... it's strange. They had only just met, and yet she feels so connected to her already. Is it normal, she wonders, for one to feel that way when meeting someone who claims to be your country?

Maybe it wasn't normal, but Jeanne was always very spiritually in-tune with things, what with hearing the words of God's messengers and all. That probably factored into it.

"Trust me, I will be ready." She said, nodding. And, because it seemed like France didn't want to focus on these things anymore, she smiled.

"Would you like help with that?"