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[England's fist has just crashed into France's face. The Frenchman lies on his back, dressed in something out of the late 1700's. His ornate collar is distinctly drenched in blood, but not from this fight.
His hands flash out and grip England's wrists and--something is so strange to him, strange enough that he doesn't retaliate--until his ire flashes abruptly after the pause, unforgiving; he clenches England's wrists harshly and uses the other man's weight against him, flinging him off to the side without letting go in order to bring him crashing against the ground.]
Bloody fucking Christ--! [England hits the ground hard, the hesitation of shock giving France enough opportunity to seize his pistol and strike England repeatedly with it, heavy blows crashing the wood and metal into the Englishman's face that is easily covered in blood under the onslaught of France's anger. England's knee shoots up, attempting to land a blow between France's legs, he's swearing and thrashing, spitting blood violently.]
--Goddammit Francis! Piss-drinking filthy bastard--
[Despite England's blows landing, France's fury is undeterred. He scrambles to his feet and swings his heavy boot with a crushing force to England's side. Despite his bleeding foot, gushing and bruised face, England claws at the ground again and begins to scrape to his feet with a snarl.]
[France spins and kicks him back again, only to stomp down and grind his heel into one of England's hands with a sickening crunch of the bones in England's hand and fingers.
The other nation convulses in pain and he screams.]
Now what do you say to the fires of revolution? Are they so inconsequential now, Angleterre?
--! [While England rolls to cough and spit blood, France finally notices that his little device seems to be glowing. He crosses to it and kneels down, easily turning his back to England, who is struggling to rise to his feet.
His neck, as mentioned, is coated in blood, soaking through his thick and ornate layers and the bandages that wrap around up to his chin. England's blood, however, has been splattered across France's face.]
Oh. Has this box shown this to everyone? My sincerest apologies. I will, what is the phrase... I will shut it off immediately.
[But not before, when England is finally on his feet, France smiles handsomely at the communicator before he glances back, aims his pistol, and fires; England falls with an anguished shout, clutching his shoulder, and the feed ends.]
[ooc note: LAST REAL EVENT POST. Apologizing so hard for slow/late tags, I was informed I need surgery in Nov and then got a nasty cold--in any case, will be backtagging so feel free to hit the others up as you will!
OPTION A: Having France answer still during his event, technically--so it will be France during the year 1794. He's a bit unhinged uh-- ICly this will be a few hours after.
OPTION B: France will answer the next morning, back to normal. Pick which one you'd like.
Action is only available for those in Latimir! If you're so inclined.]
His hands flash out and grip England's wrists and--something is so strange to him, strange enough that he doesn't retaliate--until his ire flashes abruptly after the pause, unforgiving; he clenches England's wrists harshly and uses the other man's weight against him, flinging him off to the side without letting go in order to bring him crashing against the ground.]
Bloody fucking Christ--! [England hits the ground hard, the hesitation of shock giving France enough opportunity to seize his pistol and strike England repeatedly with it, heavy blows crashing the wood and metal into the Englishman's face that is easily covered in blood under the onslaught of France's anger. England's knee shoots up, attempting to land a blow between France's legs, he's swearing and thrashing, spitting blood violently.]
--Goddammit Francis! Piss-drinking filthy bastard--
[Despite England's blows landing, France's fury is undeterred. He scrambles to his feet and swings his heavy boot with a crushing force to England's side. Despite his bleeding foot, gushing and bruised face, England claws at the ground again and begins to scrape to his feet with a snarl.]
[France spins and kicks him back again, only to stomp down and grind his heel into one of England's hands with a sickening crunch of the bones in England's hand and fingers.
The other nation convulses in pain and he screams.]
Now what do you say to the fires of revolution? Are they so inconsequential now, Angleterre?
--! [While England rolls to cough and spit blood, France finally notices that his little device seems to be glowing. He crosses to it and kneels down, easily turning his back to England, who is struggling to rise to his feet.
His neck, as mentioned, is coated in blood, soaking through his thick and ornate layers and the bandages that wrap around up to his chin. England's blood, however, has been splattered across France's face.]
Oh. Has this box shown this to everyone? My sincerest apologies. I will, what is the phrase... I will shut it off immediately.
[But not before, when England is finally on his feet, France smiles handsomely at the communicator before he glances back, aims his pistol, and fires; England falls with an anguished shout, clutching his shoulder, and the feed ends.]
[ooc note: LAST REAL EVENT POST. Apologizing so hard for slow/late tags, I was informed I need surgery in Nov and then got a nasty cold--in any case, will be backtagging so feel free to hit the others up as you will!
OPTION A: Having France answer still during his event, technically--so it will be France during the year 1794. He's a bit unhinged uh-- ICly this will be a few hours after.
OPTION B: France will answer the next morning, back to normal. Pick which one you'd like.
Action is only available for those in Latimir! If you're so inclined.]
