England (Alice Kirkland) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladygreensleeves) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-02-16 09:11 pm
ladygreensleeves) wrote in towerofanimus2013-02-16 09:11 pm
01; intro of another nation [open]
Characters: England and you.
Setting: Dorm room 2-15, the hallways and the cafeteria.
Format: Starting in brackets, but can do either.
Summary: A new arrival into the tower; this female England is none too happy to be here.
Warnings: None right now. The fairy will most likely only be able to be seen by those who believe in fairies and the supernatural; otherwise there'll appear to be nothing there.
>> Dorm room 2-15
[Waking up in a place she doesn't know is not exactly an uncommon occurrence for England. She is, after all, not one for taking it easy when it comes to alcohol. Except this time she has no recollection of consuming any alcohol recently at all, and nor does she feel the usual pulsing headache that comes with waking up after a night drinking. By all accounts, she's sure she'd gone to bed relatively early last night and been drinking nothing but tea beforehand.
After the paralysis has worn off and she can sit up, confused and growing afraid, wary, England finds the letters by her bedside. She doesn't say anything, only stares at them both in some disbelief for a few minutes. This must be somebody's idea of a joke, surely. America? Or France? Yes, it was probably one of their doing.
It doesn't take long before she's looking through her trunk. The fairy that had been trying to escape it immediately flies out and lands on England's shoulder. The creature surprises her, not because she doesn't know him - indeed, she has known him since she was very small and is not too bewildered by all this to give him a small smile in greeting. No, he surprises her because there are not many who would be able to pry him into this trunk. It would be impossible for America... and difficult for France to get a hold of the small creature; the fairy hates France almost as much as she does.
England frowns. Well. All right. Difficult, but not impossible.]
>> Hallways
[After changing into something more comfortable and slipping her wand into a pocket, England marches through the hallways, muttering under her breath to the fairy that flies beside her; the creature appears not quite so irritated as England now he is no longer shut in a trunk.
England is obviously searching for someone, someone she knows, someone who must be responsible for this prank.]
France? France! I bet this is your doing, isn't it? Hilarious, indeed. But you aren't fooling me for a second. Wh-Where are you?
[She stops for a moment, growing more and more uneasy, hit now by the scale of the place, the feeling that there's more to it than meets the eye.]
...Where are we?
>> Cafeteria
[Eventually England has wandered down enough of the stairs, looking for some way out of here, to come across the cafeteria. She hesitates, but she is awfully hungry.
She actually has no qualms with eating the oatmeal. However, not before she has had some tea first.
But after being violently ill in the rubbish bin not much later, England sincerely regrets that decision. Perhaps the tea could wait.]
Setting: Dorm room 2-15, the hallways and the cafeteria.
Format: Starting in brackets, but can do either.
Summary: A new arrival into the tower; this female England is none too happy to be here.
Warnings: None right now. The fairy will most likely only be able to be seen by those who believe in fairies and the supernatural; otherwise there'll appear to be nothing there.
>> Dorm room 2-15
[Waking up in a place she doesn't know is not exactly an uncommon occurrence for England. She is, after all, not one for taking it easy when it comes to alcohol. Except this time she has no recollection of consuming any alcohol recently at all, and nor does she feel the usual pulsing headache that comes with waking up after a night drinking. By all accounts, she's sure she'd gone to bed relatively early last night and been drinking nothing but tea beforehand.
After the paralysis has worn off and she can sit up, confused and growing afraid, wary, England finds the letters by her bedside. She doesn't say anything, only stares at them both in some disbelief for a few minutes. This must be somebody's idea of a joke, surely. America? Or France? Yes, it was probably one of their doing.
It doesn't take long before she's looking through her trunk. The fairy that had been trying to escape it immediately flies out and lands on England's shoulder. The creature surprises her, not because she doesn't know him - indeed, she has known him since she was very small and is not too bewildered by all this to give him a small smile in greeting. No, he surprises her because there are not many who would be able to pry him into this trunk. It would be impossible for America... and difficult for France to get a hold of the small creature; the fairy hates France almost as much as she does.
England frowns. Well. All right. Difficult, but not impossible.]
>> Hallways
[After changing into something more comfortable and slipping her wand into a pocket, England marches through the hallways, muttering under her breath to the fairy that flies beside her; the creature appears not quite so irritated as England now he is no longer shut in a trunk.
England is obviously searching for someone, someone she knows, someone who must be responsible for this prank.]
France? France! I bet this is your doing, isn't it? Hilarious, indeed. But you aren't fooling me for a second. Wh-Where are you?
[She stops for a moment, growing more and more uneasy, hit now by the scale of the place, the feeling that there's more to it than meets the eye.]
...Where are we?
>> Cafeteria
[Eventually England has wandered down enough of the stairs, looking for some way out of here, to come across the cafeteria. She hesitates, but she is awfully hungry.
She actually has no qualms with eating the oatmeal. However, not before she has had some tea first.
But after being violently ill in the rubbish bin not much later, England sincerely regrets that decision. Perhaps the tea could wait.]
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[She sighs and scowls, growing frustrated. The tone does little more than annoy her further, and she folds her arms across her chest.]
Excuse me. I'm neither mad, nor an idiot. More than I can say for you, clearly.
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[Huff.]
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[Puffing out her chest
as though it needed the help]Well I'm Francis fucking Drake, blondie. You had better watch your mouth and quit screwing around--I won't take insult to England lying down.
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[She sighs, frustrated, glaring at the other woman.]
I realise that may be hard to consider to some, but it's the truth. I am the personification, if you will. Anything that happens to the country, affects me.
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...You're not messing with me.
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No, dear. I'm not messing with you.
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I'm quite tall enough!
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[Which is true, though not nearly so much as a hundred years or so back.]
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Oh? Are you... an English soldier?
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Francis Drake... sea captain and privateer?
[The sea captain and privateer who's both male and dead, as far as she's aware.]
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[Well, she was technically dead...still very much she, though.]
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I know the name. I assumed you were named after him, perhaps. Because he is dead, has been for centuries. And is certainly not you.
[Her disbelief turns into an annoyed frown.]
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[HMPH.]
When did I ever say I wasn't dead?
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You didn't have to. Your lively limbs gave it away. Along with your ability to speak words- preposterous, disrespectful words, but words nonetheless.
You are clearly not dead.
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[Yeah, she totally sees it. Hard not to believe in the supernatural when you pretty much are the supernatural.]
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Of course it's possible, but only with powerful dark magic, and you certainly don't look like typical of the living dead!
And none of this changes the fact that Francis Drake was a man.
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So imagine in one of these worlds, there's no cute little blonde personified England and Drake was a woman pretending to be a man.
Problem solved.
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[She stares. With everything that's happened this morning, it actually sounds somewhat plausible.]
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