Francis Bonnefoy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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towerofanimus2013-07-14 03:07 pm
silencetoreason) wrote in towerofanimus2013-07-14 03:07 pm
{Quatre} Le jour de gloire est arrivé!
Characters: France and you!
Setting: 3-14 and the dormitory hallways, Floor 1 (the cafeteria), and Floor 78 (the mail room).
Format: Starting with action, but I'll match you.
Summary: It's Bastille Day - or, in other words, France's birthday! Screw all this depressing horrortower junk. He's celebrating! This is basically a catch-all post for France to dick around during his birthday, so feel free to come up with a prompt that's not on the list.
Warnings: France being even more flirty and even more naked than usual. Yes, it's possible. And then some angst in the last prompt.
3-14 and the dormitory halls
[France is up a lot earlier than usual. When he pops out from under the covers, surprise surprise, he's naked. Except for a rose covering his "vital regions," that is. Probably best not to ask how it's attached.
He jumps out of bed and is quick to greet every person he sees - his roommate, the people walking by his dorm room, the worker drones. He doesn't bother to put on clothes before he does this, because why should he? It's his birthday! It's also a Sunday, which is an equally valid excuse.]
Good morning, good morning! Bonjour! How are you doing on this wonderful day~?
Cafeteria
[By the time he's made it down to the cafeteria, he's managed to put clothes on. Barely. It's actually just pants, plus an apron over his bare chest, but whatever. He tried!
He's making himself some food, because, despite being the birthday boy, he really doesn't trust the drones or anyone he knows to make a proper meal. What sets this apart is that he's also making food for everyone else who comes around. He bumps his hips into the cafeteria drones' to nudge them out of the way and make something that's a little less "10-year-old chiq."
Anyone who wanders into the cafeteria for breakfast will find, along with the Tower-provided meals, a spread of French food. There are cream puffs, croissants, crepes; everything's decorated with fruit and presented in a bright, aesthetically-pleasing way. It's all gourmet-quality, the kind that would run a person broke if they tried to buy it in Paris.
Also of note: he's made whipped cream, as well as some syrups out of blueberries and strawberries. There's some blue, white, and red on every plate, reminiscient of a certain flag...
France will occasionally place down another plate of food while humming under his breath. Though there's a lot of it, it's all in tiny, tasteful portions, so you might need to come back for more.]
Mail Room
[France sits by a mail unit with his knees drawn to his chest. He's cradling something in his arms, dragging a finger over it idly like one might do with a pet, but that's not an animal he's holding. It's a tangle of fabric, ripped and stained with blood, blue and white and red.
For now, he's just staring with a far-off look in his eyes. Look closely, and you might see his lower lip quivering.
He doesn't seem to realize he's blocking a bunch of mail boxes.]
Setting: 3-14 and the dormitory hallways, Floor 1 (the cafeteria), and Floor 78 (the mail room).
Format: Starting with action, but I'll match you.
Summary: It's Bastille Day - or, in other words, France's birthday! Screw all this depressing horrortower junk. He's celebrating! This is basically a catch-all post for France to dick around during his birthday, so feel free to come up with a prompt that's not on the list.
Warnings: France being even more flirty and even more naked than usual. Yes, it's possible. And then some angst in the last prompt.
3-14 and the dormitory halls
[France is up a lot earlier than usual. When he pops out from under the covers, surprise surprise, he's naked. Except for a rose covering his "vital regions," that is. Probably best not to ask how it's attached.
He jumps out of bed and is quick to greet every person he sees - his roommate, the people walking by his dorm room, the worker drones. He doesn't bother to put on clothes before he does this, because why should he? It's his birthday! It's also a Sunday, which is an equally valid excuse.]
Good morning, good morning! Bonjour! How are you doing on this wonderful day~?
Cafeteria
[By the time he's made it down to the cafeteria, he's managed to put clothes on. Barely. It's actually just pants, plus an apron over his bare chest, but whatever. He tried!
He's making himself some food, because, despite being the birthday boy, he really doesn't trust the drones or anyone he knows to make a proper meal. What sets this apart is that he's also making food for everyone else who comes around. He bumps his hips into the cafeteria drones' to nudge them out of the way and make something that's a little less "10-year-old chiq."
Anyone who wanders into the cafeteria for breakfast will find, along with the Tower-provided meals, a spread of French food. There are cream puffs, croissants, crepes; everything's decorated with fruit and presented in a bright, aesthetically-pleasing way. It's all gourmet-quality, the kind that would run a person broke if they tried to buy it in Paris.
Also of note: he's made whipped cream, as well as some syrups out of blueberries and strawberries. There's some blue, white, and red on every plate, reminiscient of a certain flag...
France will occasionally place down another plate of food while humming under his breath. Though there's a lot of it, it's all in tiny, tasteful portions, so you might need to come back for more.]
Mail Room
[France sits by a mail unit with his knees drawn to his chest. He's cradling something in his arms, dragging a finger over it idly like one might do with a pet, but that's not an animal he's holding. It's a tangle of fabric, ripped and stained with blood, blue and white and red.
For now, he's just staring with a far-off look in his eyes. Look closely, and you might see his lower lip quivering.
He doesn't seem to realize he's blocking a bunch of mail boxes.]
no subject
U-uh, well, i-it is a n-nice day! A-and you're in a r-really good m-mood.
no subject
[He doesn't bother to pull away after he's kissed her. He remains draped around her shoulders, so close that they're practically cheek-to-cheek.]
no subject
W-w-what's the o-occasion?
no subject
[France sets his chin on her shoulder and looks up at her with puppy dog eyes.]
Tell me you've heard of it.
no subject
S-sorry, I don't know...
[Though April's world is seriously lacking in records about history and cultures.]
no subject
[France lets her go, an indignant pout on his lips.]
It is my- that is, the French national holiday! It was a very important day in our history.
no subject
I-if it helps, I d-didn't know about any holidays b-before arriving here! M-my world has l-lost a lot of knowledge, s-so I don't know a lot of things...
no subject
Non, non, it is perfectly all right. [He shrugs.] It happens! I will educate you, then, n'est-ce pas? How better to learn than straight from the source?
[He says it without realizing he hasn't introduced himself as France-the-country yet. Whoops.]
no subject
O-oh, okay! [Wait.]
... T-the source? So, um, a-are you France?
no subject
[He wasn't expecting her to guess his real name so quickly. It's a pleasant surprise.]
I am, yes. How did you know?
no subject
[April rubs the back of her neck sheepishly.] A-a-and I've met a country before, so i-it wasn't too hard to figure out.
no subject
[He gives a sheepish little chuckle and rubs the back of his neck.]
So, which country have you met, hmm? Not that terrible England, I hope!
no subject
no subject
England? Being kind? [Everything from France's face, to his tone, to his posture ooze disbelief.] How strange. Are you sure it was him?
[He holds his thumb and forefinger about two inches apart, then puts them above his eye.]
Eyebrows about this big? A head of unkempt blond hair? Absolutely wretched at cooking? That England?
no subject
[She scratches her cheeks as she frowns.] ... I-is that a bad thing?