Francis Bonnefoy (
silencetoreason) wrote in
towerofanimus2013-05-25 11:09 pm
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Entry tags:
{Trois} Le roi doit mourir
Characters: France, England (
keepscalm), and Captain Cinnamon Claws (CLOSED)
Setting: Dormitory hallways/bathrooms
Format: Action
Summary: France has his first encounter with an old Tower favorite. England hides and watchesbecause old habits die hard.
Warnings: Blood, gore, death.
[France is beginning to think that terrible things are a monthly occurrence here. Just when he thought he might be able to get the faces of those horribly-mutilated people with pink collars out of his mind, writing started appearing on walls. The shocking part about that is how convinced he was that so many of those things were true. And the longer time goes on, the stranger things seem to get. Between the horrified feeling he gets whenever he walks by a mirror, the whale song and subsequent crash he hears every hour or so, and the appearance of poisonous plants in the cafeteria he'd been so enamored with, France is feeling pretty run-down by now.
When he feels a chill shoot down his spine, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is a sigh.]
What now..?
[He turns around and sees, in the middle of the long, empty dormitory hallway, a teddy bear.]
Eh? ...Okay. Wonderful. Some child has left their toys-
[The bear tilts its head to the side, and France lets out a shout.]
Aah-! Oh, come on! [He starts to feel a gnawing urge to run, to hide, and chalks it up to being over-tired and stressed out.] No, this isn't fair, you know? All I want to do is get to bed. I'm tired of all these strange things happening...
[He keeps his gaze locked on the bear. Just as he's about to chalk the unnatural head movement up to some battery-powered motion or trick of the light, it starts to walk forward.]
No! Okay, bonsoir. Bon- [When the bear doesn't stop, the chill hits him again, and the urge to hide gets even stronger, France turns tail and starts to run off.
When he finds himself standing in front of the bathroom door, he has the slightest inkling that he might be acting stupid, but a quick look down the hallway proves him wrong. The bear is still walking his way, and France feels a growing sense of dread, one he doesn't want to ignore. He pauses with his hand on the door frame, shocked still for a moment.]
Non, non, non, I'm dreaming, aren't I? I must be dreaming...
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Setting: Dormitory hallways/bathrooms
Format: Action
Summary: France has his first encounter with an old Tower favorite. England hides and watches
Warnings: Blood, gore, death.
[France is beginning to think that terrible things are a monthly occurrence here. Just when he thought he might be able to get the faces of those horribly-mutilated people with pink collars out of his mind, writing started appearing on walls. The shocking part about that is how convinced he was that so many of those things were true. And the longer time goes on, the stranger things seem to get. Between the horrified feeling he gets whenever he walks by a mirror, the whale song and subsequent crash he hears every hour or so, and the appearance of poisonous plants in the cafeteria he'd been so enamored with, France is feeling pretty run-down by now.
When he feels a chill shoot down his spine, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is a sigh.]
What now..?
[He turns around and sees, in the middle of the long, empty dormitory hallway, a teddy bear.]
Eh? ...Okay. Wonderful. Some child has left their toys-
[The bear tilts its head to the side, and France lets out a shout.]
Aah-! Oh, come on! [He starts to feel a gnawing urge to run, to hide, and chalks it up to being over-tired and stressed out.] No, this isn't fair, you know? All I want to do is get to bed. I'm tired of all these strange things happening...
[He keeps his gaze locked on the bear. Just as he's about to chalk the unnatural head movement up to some battery-powered motion or trick of the light, it starts to walk forward.]
No! Okay, bonsoir. Bon- [When the bear doesn't stop, the chill hits him again, and the urge to hide gets even stronger, France turns tail and starts to run off.
When he finds himself standing in front of the bathroom door, he has the slightest inkling that he might be acting stupid, but a quick look down the hallway proves him wrong. The bear is still walking his way, and France feels a growing sense of dread, one he doesn't want to ignore. He pauses with his hand on the door frame, shocked still for a moment.]
Non, non, non, I'm dreaming, aren't I? I must be dreaming...
"old habits die hard" get out of here
It must be a special occasion.
Even more, he felt the undeniable urge to hide. Perhaps not such an unreasonable idea, though maybe a tad premature. Still, he's not one to ignore a self-preservation instinct when it's so pressing.
He ducked into the men's bathroom and stole away into one of the stalls. Though it's not an effective barrier against anything that would really want to kill him, he locked the door behind him, to at least ensure that it stayed shut while he was hiding like a rat. And then, dignity be damned — there are no cameras in here and he didn't see anyone else when he came in — England silently closed the lid of the toilet and hopped up to make himself comfortable.
So, that's where he's perched while France is having his dilemma outside of the bathroom. Curled up on top of the toilet seat, with his knees pulled up to his chest so that his feet can't be seen underneath the door.
Rule, Britannia. He's glad his people can't see him now.
(Of course, England's presence means that when France comes into the bathroom, the lights will already be on. But he may not be aware that it means someone is already in there.)]
nope you're stuck with me
He hasn't been in the Tower long enough to realize that the lights mean someone else is in here. To him, it seems like the place is empty. He's not sure if he's relieved, because no one will see how frightened he's getting over this, or if he's disappointed, because this means nobody can lend him a hand if things do get bad.
He doesn't spare a glance over his shoulder to see how far away the bear is. He just darts into a stall, and unbeknownst to him, the one he chose is only a few away from the one housing England. He gets the door latched and perches himself on the lid of the toilet just as he hears soft, hard-to-miss shuffling from the direction of the door.
Those definitely aren't a human's footsteps.]
a truly terrible fate tbh
He hears the telltale click of one of the other stalls locking, but the lack of any noise indicative of using the bathroom for its intended purpose tells England that he is no longer alone in hiding from the impending threat.
He can't see through to any of the other stalls, but he can see a sliver of the bathroom outside. He can't see anything yet, but he can hear a strange sort of shuffling; it's a sound he swears he's heard before, but it's so vague that he can't place it.
Regardless of what it is, though, England and his companion are clearly not the only ones in the room any more. England remains utterly still, unwilling to give his position away by the rustle of clothes or the sigh of a too-heavy breath.]
wow rudey-rude-rude
Just when France is beginning to think that it won't do anything more than walk around, a loud bang nearly startles him off of his seat. It sounds as if someone just kicked a door with enough force to nearly tear it off its hinges, but it the noise came from farther into the room, toward the showers. It's checking them first..?
France clasps a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound of his breathing. Maybe it'll get bored, he thinks. Maybe it'll turn around and walk out before it finds me...
But maybe it won't, and he can't imagine what might happen if that's the case.]
i think you mean truthy-truth-truth
When it finally passes by his stall, his heart drops into his stomach like a rock into a lake. He stops breathing altogether. In the back of his mind, he remembers a sound like glass shattering and a skull being caved in.
The familiarity wasn't an illusion. He has heard those footsteps before.
And he'd hoped he would never have to hear them again when the sun rose after those agonising nineteen hours.
Even once the bear moves out of sight of his stall, England doesn't dare to breathe. He's startled into it by the abrupt bang (though thankfully the noise is loud enough to cover the faint whoosh of air entering his lungs again), but he quickly thereafter raises his unoccupied hand to cover his mouth and prevent any further slip-ups. He's seen how those bears kill, and he'd rather not be on the short end of it.]
I think /you/ mean shutty-up-uP >8(
The situation should be laughable - he's crouched on a toilet and hiding from a stuffed bear, for God's sake - but France can't remember ever being this terrified. It's as if there's something deeply wrong about that thing, wrong in a way he can't quite name, and not just because it's walking around in the first place. It makes him feel sick to his stomach and leaves him dreading the bear's next move. The feeling of unrest France feels is helped along by the way the banging sound rings in his ears, lingering far longer than it should, making a noise not unlike the quiet hum one hears if they're alone in dead silence for long enough.
That ringing is drowned out when the third door is violently thrown open. The process is repeated with the fourth and the fifth doors, slowly, unimaginably slowly, the bear waiting a little shorter or longer each time just to keep France on his toes. And finally, when it has no more shower stalls to look in, it stops. The silence stretches on like elastic pulled to its limits, and France is waiting for the snap.
Eventually, the shuffling sound starts back up again. It draws closer and closer every second.]