crotchroses | ♕ dix; [video->text] (chip event part ii) (backdated to Wednesday)

[Who likes pirate hats? Big fancy hats? Hats with feathers?

Or swords. Who likes those?

You won't be disappointed.

A handsome older teenager with hair past his shoulders loosely tied back, dressed in a grand coat with very wide sleeves, a tunic, white stockings and short stocky leather boots. You can bet your ass there is plate armor and leather underneath the finery. There is a hungry look of triumph on the man's face as he whirls his longsword, the ornate handle and polished blade flashing across the feed.

It isn't simple fencing footwork France displays but practical, vicious swings of that heavy sword one would use in battle. Every movement, every step is fluid, impossibly fast; showy, but incredibly precise. It's passionate, and yet somehow very, very cold.

Within the blink of an eye that sword has been sheathed. France's eyes are almost maniacal despite the fact that his smile is eerily inviting. He seems full of energy--excited.

But he's also pale.]

Victoire pour le royaume de France!

[He reaches to the communicator, switching to text.]

Hello Fortuna. I have returned, I see. It has been so, so long since I last visited. I am whole again at home! Whole at last, with my kingdom reaching across the continents in this glorious new century.

I mean no offense, but I hope to return home again soon. I cannot afford to be away.

Autriche! Angleterre! May I speak with each of you?

[ooc: 1550's. He remembers being here as Gaul, among a few other things. Of interest to Austria, Romano/Romana and England is this.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Standing behind him, glaring. She's a little nervous, but all that does is make her want to show it even less. She grips her broom tightly in one hand and places the other on her hip.]

You'll keep that sheathed while you're in here, thank you very much.

My lady Rosemary, I apologize if I startled you.

[That gentlemanly intent is basically what Rosemary is counting on to get out of this- not that she doesn't think she could take France pretty easily, she does. But beating your patients within an inch of their life isn't the best nursing (all the time).

The French is a bit too archaic for her like, but she can make it out, anyway. She briefly considers using French herself, just to make things easier for his feeble, Middle Aged mind, but decides that's to be a last resort. She'll stick to English, thank you very much.]

You didn't. [He did. She raises an eyebrow as he kisses her hand, but doesn't pull it away.] What was that little display about?

It was a herald to gain the attention of certain men, my lady.

Well, I'm sure it worked. [They're dumb enough for that...] But I won't have any fighting under my roof, do you understand? If you want to cause trouble, wait until you get home.

[In other words, wait until she's not responsible for you. She's hoping Arthur isn't going to fight France when he's in this state anyway, but she can't be sure how it'll work out.]

What year is it?

Ah, so! It is you who is the lady of my house in this strange place.

My home is here with my lady, dear Rosemary. Non, I will not fight here. I must leave and fight elsewhere for the sake of my kingdom.

For you.

["Lady of my house-" No. No, she's conquered his flat, that's all! Conquered it, it's hers now! Ah, but she can't say that without revealing herself as a nation and.... Oh, good grief. She's being courted by some young, entitled punk. (As opposed to an old, entitled idiot.)]

I'm not your lady! ... I'm your nurse.

[Tugs her hands free.] So you can bloody well wait. You're staying right where you are, for the moment, not running around fighting. You're not well.

I-- What?

You are my-- --Hm. You certainly have the demeanor of a nurse. Ah, but, how am I unwell?

[Grumbles:] That's for me to know and for you to hopefully remember eventually. [Adjusts her glasses and frowns at him.]

Because you're pale even for you, spouting nonsense and I said so.

Hmph! An Englishwoman would not understand.

I have no need of your services at present, Infirmière.

An Englishwoman would understand perfectly.

[You were, France. You were that idiot. And now you must deal with the consequences.]

I'll be the judge of that, thank you very much.

Non.

This place is far less intriguing than I remember it to be. It is dead, ugly... useless!

Is it really? I hadn't noticed.

[F-following after him! Not because she wants to, you understand.] Don't mess anything up, I've just tidied.

I mean no offense, but this place is disgusting!

Eh. You will tidy it again, but not now.

--That's it! Come and tell me the situation, what is going on, mm? Information. I require it!

We shall discuss it together.

Stop acting like you're allowed to give me orders. You're not, I'm the one in charge here.

[Sits down primly.] In any case, we've all been kidnapped to this miserable hell hole and you've been so incapacitated that I've been asked to take care of you. I don't know what more you want to know.

. . .

Your sense of humor is truly intriguing.

Tell me, Rosemary, how is it I remember you and this place from my childhood?

[Hits him on the side of his head with her broom. Not too hard, but a decent warning.] When I'm joking, you'll know, it'll be at your expense.

[Glares up at him.] ... People arrive from different points in time. Then they leave and occasionally come back. I know it sounds mad, but that's the truth.

How is it you have not been locked away with such a fiery temper?!

I can see why I took you in under my roof. Calm yourself! There is no need for violence here, eh?

As if anyone would dare. Now you calm down, I barely touched you.

Why would they not? You are out of your mind! You hit me with a broom.

It's a shame such a sweet appearance as yours was wasted on such a filthy nation.

[Glares. It's quite clear that she doesn't take that as a compliment.] My sweet appearance suits my nationality perfectly, I'll have you know. The English know how to treat a lady properly.

♕ dix; [video->text] (chip event part ii) (backdated to Wednesday)

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/cries on

/holds...

morning C:

Morning, darling