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towerofanimus2012-12-17 01:48 am
champagnedelis) wrote in towerofanimus2012-12-17 01:48 am
Entry tags:
I don't wanna be me
Characters: Francisca and anyone who comes by
Setting: Dormitory Room 01-11
Format: Starting prose, will change to match!
Summary: France's been gone 'home' for nearly a month... again. She's not happy.
Warnings: One hysterical French woman - expect some swearing and perhaps some violence. Mentions of attempted suicide.
If she had been anyone else, if she'd still been the human she had been before becoming a nation, things would have been different. To start with, she wouldn't have felt so hollow and dead inside during that month back in the burnt out husk that had once been her homeland. Yet still she'd survived, all that time alone. No food, no water, sleeping only when exhaustion finally forced her to her knees.
No human contact.
She'd given up halfway through that time, going to the battered remains of her town house to find her old sabres still somehow intact. She'd thought of the gleaming steel blade as her salvation and had driven it into her gut, even the stabbing pain somehow numbed with how dead she already felt.
But there had been no blood, and she had lived.
And then she woke up, back in the tower, suddenly suffused with life and sensation flowing through her body... and she'd screamed.
It was too much, far too much after that long time and all she'd wanted to do was die! Being back here meant she would have no rest on her weary soul, she'd only be introduced to more pain, and she hated it.
She took out her rage on the room, wanting to mar the perfect, white, clean Tower. First to go was her bed, flipped into the air by her monstrous strength. The sheets were torn to shreds and flung away from her, her trunk was thrown against a wall, nothing was safe, and she kept screaming as she destroyed the room.
Setting: Dormitory Room 01-11
Format: Starting prose, will change to match!
Summary: France's been gone 'home' for nearly a month... again. She's not happy.
Warnings: One hysterical French woman - expect some swearing and perhaps some violence. Mentions of attempted suicide.
If she had been anyone else, if she'd still been the human she had been before becoming a nation, things would have been different. To start with, she wouldn't have felt so hollow and dead inside during that month back in the burnt out husk that had once been her homeland. Yet still she'd survived, all that time alone. No food, no water, sleeping only when exhaustion finally forced her to her knees.
No human contact.
She'd given up halfway through that time, going to the battered remains of her town house to find her old sabres still somehow intact. She'd thought of the gleaming steel blade as her salvation and had driven it into her gut, even the stabbing pain somehow numbed with how dead she already felt.
But there had been no blood, and she had lived.
And then she woke up, back in the tower, suddenly suffused with life and sensation flowing through her body... and she'd screamed.
It was too much, far too much after that long time and all she'd wanted to do was die! Being back here meant she would have no rest on her weary soul, she'd only be introduced to more pain, and she hated it.
She took out her rage on the room, wanting to mar the perfect, white, clean Tower. First to go was her bed, flipped into the air by her monstrous strength. The sheets were torn to shreds and flung away from her, her trunk was thrown against a wall, nothing was safe, and she kept screaming as she destroyed the room.