towerofanimus | Endgame: This Broken Jaw of Our Lost Kingdoms; Part One

[The sound of his own language is a comfort, however small. Not many people in the Tower speak French. He was beginning to think that, save for his own voice, he might never hear the sound of it again.]

...I have had better days. [He smiles, though it's a humorless one.] And you?

[Vietnam hadn't realised that it has been that long since France has heard his own language, though really she shouldn't be surprised. It was good enough to know that he was uplifted, even just a little.

She chuckles quietly, his response was probably the same for their own kind too; the Tower itself really beat whatever could happen back home. At least whenever they were stuck in a cell, it was a lot more ridiculous than this.]

I feel the same way; I am unhurt, that is some consolation. But I am fresh out of ideas.

I am hoping for a miracle.

[France looks down, and his smile wavers. Truth be told, he's been hoping for one of those since he ended up in here. He doesn't like to think that God has abandoned them all in this place, but with things looking so hopeless, it seems like he has. And without Him, what hope do they have against such a powerful foe?]

...Why are we in here? That... was Ruana, right? The voice that I heard?

A miracle...

[She normally didn't believe in miracles, that most things come to them because they worked for it. But right now, she wouldn't mind if any deity, higher power--well, one that wasn't the admins of this Tower--to just throw them a line.

She rubs the side of her head, before twisting the ends of her ponytail.]

I suppose so, it seems it is because of her that we are in here. As for why, I am unsure of the details.

[France nods silently and slumps against the barrier. He's no stranger to being held captive. When you've fought in as many wars as he has, being held as a POW becomes just another fact of life. Though he's never particularly liked it (who would?), the confinement is familiar to him. The circumstances, however, are far more nerve-wracking.

He mutters, more to himself than to Vietnam.] I wonder if Pierre is okay...

[It might be stupid to dwell on a pet's life in their situation, but he's spent so much time huddled over and talking to that bird recently that suddenly being away from him is hard. He's lost his land, his people, his looks and his happiness. Now he's lost his companion, too. He doesn't know if he'll be able to stand having anything else taken away from him.]

[Hearing that, she looks over, at least towards the general vicinity of where he was. That little bird didn't deserve to suffer through this too, so she personality was relieved that he was not here. Then again, she had always been one to consider them alive, and never the worst possible situation until she saw it for herself.]

If he is free, then he has a chance to be well. For how long he has been with you, I am certain he knows what to do. I think he is waiting for you right now, for us to find a way to be free.

[If you are free, you are able to run and fight. Or in this case, just run. And Pierre is one of those free. Though part of it she said only so that France could have some hope. With what has happened, and what he has told her, she had to give him something to hold onto.]

[And hold onto that thought, he does. He shuts his eyes, briefly imagining blue skies and green fields, Pierre chirping happily somewhere above the trees. He thinks of himself, younger than he is now, before he grew his beard, laying back on the grass and staring up at a sky, with no chance of a plane flying by and ruining his peace.

When he starts to imagine the feeling of his land under his back and his people so nearby, he grimaces.]

Yes... We'll find a way, won't we? Somehow...

[They have to. They always will. Nothing stays this bad forever. He's seen wars and disease and disaster, but he and his fellow nations always overcome, always move on. Surely it can't end like this.]

[The moment of silence has Vietnam watching him, wondering what it was he was thinking. Was he thinking of Pierre, of how when they finally are free of this place, he will be able to meet him again? Or of home?

Was it even the best thing to talk about?]

We will. And then, we will be able to go home, where it will all be repaired, or back to normal.

Although, apparently I am not your Vietnam, so she will be the one to give you a welcome back gift after you return, two years ago. This is for one time only!

[Ah, even now, she's still mostly denying her affiliation with France (what a loser). Ignore the multiple birthday gifts and everything.]

[If France didn't know better, he'd think Vietnam was raised by England, with a line like that. But it's comforting all the same.]

How nice that would be. Then, give the France from your world my regards, hmm? [He chuckles weakly.] Be sure to tell him how lucky he is...

[France, your life is to be surrounded by such nations, of course! Or he could blame China first for making her like this.]

We are still one and the same, so...yes, she will give you something nice. And I will. [She looks away just so that he won't see whatever show of emotion she had, since this was embarrassing. And hard to show that he still matters to her like all of her family.] I am unsure if he would consider himself lucky with handfuls like us.

My dear. [He rests his forehead against the barrier.] Any France without memories like mine in his head is the luckiest country in the world.

[If they get out of here at all, he's sure he'll be able to move on. He always does. But the loss he's experienced in the Tower is unlike any other. Death and torture on such a scale was unimaginable to him even in the darkest ages. How long, he wonders, will it take to recover from seeing monsters like Jason and Ruana causing so much misery? Will it take years, centuries? How many generations of humans and their wars will he go through before he can put this experience behind him?]

[She wasn't sure what to say this time. He had been through a lot, and she knew it from the first time she saw him once she arrived; whatever usual energy he had when he meets a friend or family member was gone, and it was replaced with the unfortunate fear that said person was there. Vietnam was frustrated that she honestly could not understand the depth of his pain, with how she had never been there with him.]

You'll be carrying the burdens of all the Frances...but I am sure they even know you're strong enough. I think, we can learn from the others with us here, no? [Humans always had such strong spirit. She wondered if it was something they often forget to learn about because of how their lives go on till the end of time. But if she remembered correctly, France had always been someone to appreciate it too.]

What kind of immortal would I be if I stopped learning this fast?

[Immortal. That's right. That's what he and all his fellow nations are. As long as they're still here, no matter what Ruana may say to the contrary, there has to be some life left in their land.

He thinks back to those glasses England showed him, the ones that revealed the true form of their souls. Millions of people making up one mass. Their bodies may be lifeless, but their souls, their thoughts, their feelings are not. And as long as they're contained inside him...

France brings a hand to his chest.

As long as they're there, he can't let them vanish. For them, he'll go through whatever it takes.]

Aha, you're right. Though there are days I wonder if we should be learning faster.

[Usually she would've worded that in a way that would be criticising France's learning speed (especially when it comes to battle), since he was such a lover, not a fighter. But it seems like this place has taught him many harsh lessons. With how he talks, she wouldn't be surprised if he would wring the crap out of Ruana's neck just to save his people.

Perhaps even more hotblooded than Vietnam, now, which is saying a lot.]

Endgame: This Broken Jaw of Our Lost Kingdoms; Part One

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