Let it be

[champagnedelis.livejournal.com]

Character: Francisca/France and YOU
Setting: Floor Eighteen
Format: Either works~
Summary: Francisca has a quiet moment in the 'study'.
Warnings: None atm. It's France though, that can change. :|a



Francisca sat at one of the desks, an open book before her, but her eyes weren't focusing on it. One hand was at her cheek, propping her head up, but she wasn't tired. She'd brought a mug of coffee from the kitchen, but it sat half-empty at her elbow, long gone cold.

She didn't even know why she was here - this floor certainly wasn't comforting in the least. She could hear the odd muffled scratches that seemed to come from the walls, the shuffling of feet when the lights flickered.

Considering the chaos of the past month in the tower, Francisca was... dazed. After a nightmare of seeing once sane individuals go mad with paranoia and whatnot, her precious other half, Romana, Romeo, experimented on, like labrats, but even worse... Her mind was reeling.
When she'd woken up on the morning when everything returned to normal, as if the past month was simply a bad dream, she'd had to run for the bathroom to retch into the toilet. Everything was as it should be, in the tower at least, but that in itself was so wrong.

Her gut was twisting with the feeling that this was just the tower wiping the slate clean to start all over again.

Perhaps that was why she was in this creepy floor to begin with - in hopes that the disembodied breathing noises and scratches would manifest into something real, something deadly, and simply finish her off. Or she just wanted to be alone without feeling alone, the noises keeping her company, abnormal as it was.

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[champagnedelis.livejournal.com]

Francisca paused, staring at the bottle for a moment. "You got..." trailing off, she continued to stare at the bottle, eyes feeling hot. Too many ups and downs and horrors came to a head and she had to choke back a sob as tears began to fall, carefully drawing Romeo into her arms as she knelt on the floor before him. Her body shook as she held in as much of her breakdown as possible, focusing instead on the dear boy she was hugging, murmuring soft phrases of thanks and sorrow in French.

[spiritsup.livejournal.com]

Romeo let himself be gathered into France's arms, what had he done wrong? Why was she crying? Had he made her sad? He cautiously wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. Tears pricked his own eyes, because he didn't like to think that other people were sad.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

[champagnedelis.livejournal.com]

Francisca shook her head, letting out a quiet sigh as she forced the tears to stop - or at least slow some. "You have nothing to apologize for, mon cher," she assured him, voice thick with emotion. "I'm just... overwhelmed. Thank you though, I'll make sure to make delicious bread and... and we can share with our friends and..." she trailed off, hugging him tighter as she hid her face against his shoulder.

[spiritsup.livejournal.com]

Romeo still didn't understand but he hugged miss France tightly so that she would feel better, he was glad he hadn't made her cry, though he thought she was crying because of the bad people. That made him want to stop them even more.

"Let's go and make bread miss France, and then we can share it and cheer everybody up!"

[champagnedelis.livejournal.com]

Laughing quietly she released him, sitting back on her ankles and wiping the tears from her face, her smile only wobbling a little as she answered brightly, "D'accord, that sounds like a good idea."

She gave a mock stern look to Piccolo, wagging her finger at him in jest. "No getting fur in the bread, understood?"

[spiritsup.livejournal.com]

Romeo matched her smile and nodded, "He wont, he's good most of the time!" Piccolo only snuffled his nose and ran up Romeo's arm to sit on his head.

[champagnedelis.livejournal.com]

Francisca chuckled and reached up to pet Piccolo before standing, dusting her knees off and extending her hand for his. "To the kitchen?"

[spiritsup.livejournal.com]

Romeo grinned and took miss France's hand quietly, he wasn't a child, as he would tell anyone who tried to accuse him of being one. So he didn't need to hold hands with anybody, but he had been without hands for so long and the contact was nice. It made him feel safe, like Psiioniic did, and that was strange because both Psiioniic and miss France were adults and Romeo had rarely felt safe with adults before.

They arrived in the kitchen and Romeo smiled, "What do we need miss?"

[champagnedelis.livejournal.com]

Francisca squeezed Romeo's hand gently, taking comfort in the action herself. In the kitchen she glanced around, thinking back on the recipe before slowly listing them. "Hmm... stale bread, milk, eggs, rum, sugar and... ah, butter."

She smiled at him and reluctantly released his hand. "I'll get the dry ingredients from the pantry - could you get the milk, eggs and butter from the refrigerator for me?"

[spiritsup.livejournal.com]

"Okay!" Romeo skipped off to the fridge and opened the door. He looked on the shelves and found the things easily, carrying them carefully over to the work surface and putting them down. "Here you go miss France!"

[champagnedelis.livejournal.com]

Francisca chuckled when Romeo skipped off - aah the vitality of youth - and went to the pantry, emerging with the sack of sugar cradled in one arm and the loaf of what seemed to be day-old bread in the other. "Ah, merci mon cher," she answered, setting down the dry ingredients on the bench with the rest. "Hmm..." she poked the bread a bit and shrugged. "I think we'll just try making a few pieces for trial, and if they taste good then we can make more."

After finding a mixing bowl, she measured out half a pint of milk and mixed it with a couple of drops of rum and three eggs before putting four slices of bread into the mixture. She explained to Romeo, "The point is to have the otherwise stale and dry bread to soak up the mixture as much as possible. A good way to use what we would otherwise throw out." She turned to turn on the stove, putting a large frypan over the flames before dropping a large dollop of butter into it, waiting for it to melt.

[spiritsup.livejournal.com]

Romeo peered over the counter and watched, he nodded. After his cake disastor he knew it was a good idea to make a little bit of a thing first to check it tasted good and was right, so you don't waste ingredients with mistakes.

He pulled a face though, "Why would you throw out food?" He asked as he watched the butter melting with facination. His tone was serious, he couldn't think of why you would ever throw food out.