animus_network | One ⚜ Video

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[He seems a bit distracted as he settles down, seemingly confused. Then, with a startled sound he begins to mess with his hair. A series of muttered curses in French color his preening as he tries to plaster down stray hairs that do not exist, staring rather blankly after putting his hands down as if observing something. Hushed:] I look like a recluse! Mon dieu!

[Leans forward, more determined than ever. He goes from trying to plaster them down to brushing them down for more volume, letting that prized hair cascade like a boss. He finally leans back ten minutes later, seemingly quite pleased. Yes. You guessed correctly; he used the camera as an impromptu mirror, not quite understanding that it was broadcasting. Of course he's not quick to leave. He did just spend around 15 minutes fussing over his hair and getting up too quickly would 'disturb' it.]

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"Keep saying it like that and I might think I'm in some creepy slasher movie." he grumbled and flicked his lighter closed before standing up and giving his old friend a smirk. "Wouldn't happen to have a smoke on you would you? I left mine in my room."

He flashed the man a grin, shaking his head. "We might as well be, non?" Francis wrapped an arm around the other's shoulders, confident he wouldn't be shrugged off immediately. At the question, Fran rolled his eyes. "Do you think we will get replacements? I'm almost out, but since you're such a good friend--" Rummaging through his pockets, he managed a cigarette for his companion. "So what 'ave you been up to this fine day?"

Prussia smirked and took the offered smoke, lighting it and taking a drag off of the cigarette before beathing it out with a sigh of content. "Thanks frenchie, and you can have one of mine as a replacement. I've get more than a few cartons up in that old trunk." he took a moment and inspected the smoke in his hand. "You change brands or something? Tastes different." he muttered and offered the cancer stick to France.

"As for what I've been doing, nothing of mention. Ran into the female Canada and damn she has a nice rack. Ran into Liz too, she's as bitchy as ever."

"I wish that I'd gotten a few cartons. Apparently I was more fashion-needy. Strange." He took back the lit cigarette and perched it between his lips. Friends shared, etc. It wasn't as if France was the kind of man to be iffy about such a thing regarding his ...sharing in the past. Shrugging noncommittally, he responded. "It's one of the brands I prefer, yes."

He gave Gilbert a look at that, tutting at the back of his throat. "I've met Madeline myself on occasion. She's a lady; treat her as such. As for Liz, well... she is a lady, but you may treat her however you wish."

"I think I liked the peach ones more. Funny that you had fashion, I get cigarettes, guns and booze. Guess they knew me well enough when they packed it" he chuckled with his infamous 'kesesesese' and looked over at his long-time friend with a raised eyebrow.

"Why the sudden change of heart? You were always telling me to be nice to ze sweet cherie~" he mocked Francis' french accent thickly through his own german one. "But Canada seems like a nice dame, haven't met too many other nations here to say. I bet you've rolled with a few already." he gave Francis one of his more gentle punches to his bicep than he usually would.

Oh God... "Why did you remind me of those? Now I'm going to crave them until someone tires of my lamenting and finds a way to make them. You know how shifty self-made things are around this place. Well--besides my cooking. That is always a good thing." See what you've done there, Prusse? You've made him babble good-naturedly, but babble nonetheless. It saved him from the creepy fact that it seemed their captors knew their habits before taking them in.

He shrugged, looking ahead. More stairs. He hated stairs. "Desperate times, mon ami. It will keep the both of you on your toes, of course." He flashed the Prussian with a knowing smirk, absently swatting at the man. "She is stubborn though. Not that Mathieu wasn't deep down--there is no other way to survive living with Arthur though without that certain trait.

Ah. Just the other me. It is horrifying, so do hold onto me--" Francis interlaced their arms together, looking every bit as worried as he was hinting this news to be. "My desire for anything past a teasing verbal exchange is genuinely ...diminished. You would think I'd have bedded half of the of-age inhabitants mais non!"

Yes. This was worrying indeed.

Edited 2011-08-21 14:00 (UTC)

"Hey, I might have a carton. Always did like french cigarettes more than most of the rest, especially american. Those things are fucking disgusting." he grumbled. "Your cooking has always been awesome, saved me from eating potatoes and turnips for years... even though I did do that and look where it got me. I'm still short and fucking skinny and if hungary tells me to eat a sandwich one more time!" he clenched his fist in irritation. But Francis' words had him looking at his friend with eyebrows nearly in his snowy hairline.

"You haven't tapped everything between the ages of 18 and 35 in this tower? Damn Francis, what's going on?"

Francis did give him a pleased grin at the offer, but it didn't work as a deterrent to the man's obvious dilemma. From the time France physically reached that boyish ...fifteen, he'd had a knack for charming. Gone were the days of polite bowing and kissing knuckles as his main arsenal of gaining favor. They grow up so fast.

His reputation had be mostly earned though and his appetite was something mighty impressive. There'd only been a few times when he was so distracted that physical affection was cast aside and none of them were good.

He shook his head. "I have not, et... I do not know. I am very troubled, Prusse. I--" The blond trailed off for a moment, shutting his mouth so he wasn't gaping like a fish. The arm holding Gilbert's hostage held tighter. "This is a little more than worrying."

Edited 2011-08-22 04:47 (UTC)

"Okay, what are you troubled about 'cuz this is weirding me out Francis. Especially the fact that you're hitting on me as a last resort. Come on man, I'm more awesome than that aren't I?" he gave a mock pout before taking another drag on the cancer stick and handed back to its former owner. It wasn't like nations could get such things as cancer from mundane things like cigarettes, but the vices made them feel more human. Gilbert knew it did for him, but his attention now was on his long time friend clinging to him like a life ring in the middle of the ocean.

"A last resort? Prusse, I would never do such a thing!" The blond sounded genuine, however he remained clinging. Taking a drag, he blew out the smoke in a hurried exhale, brows knitting together. "I told you that I was perfectly capable of flirting. It's just pursuing anything beyond that point. Mon dieu... I feel so inadequate."

Sighing at the confession, he stubbed out the cigarette where he stood. If it were anywhere else the Frenchman would show more respect for where he littered. "There have only been a handful of occasions in which this has happened... Perhaps the stress of not knowing what is happening outside is doing this?" Francis sounded hopeful, as if he was trying to believe his reasoning just as much as he was trying to convince his friend.

He laughed. "I just... need a nice drink. Or twenty. This is no good."

"Might be, still, what the hell man. It's not like you to say the least." Prussia gave him a pat on his arm. comfort really wasn't his area of expertise, not in the slightest.

"Well, lets get you a drink at least and figure out why you're so messed up that you're not tapping everything." he chuckled and headed back up the stairs toward the dorms nearly dragging Francis with him as he went.

It was the thought that counted and the pat on the arm made the Frenchman sigh, but otherwise feel slightly better. Slightly. He felt only a bit off for having a conniption over not having a healthy sex drive.

"Am I just being silly, mon ami? This can't possibly be the end of the world-" Or it could be and God really did have a sense of humor. Who would seriously believe a lack of uninhibited sex would spur on the Apocalypse? "I like that idea, much more than I should."

And if Prusse was dragging him that was okay.

"I don't think it's the end of the world. You always have a dip around elections and stuff right? Just take it as... a political shift. You'll get it back and knowing you you'll want to do everything under 35 that has two legs." he snickered and dragged the poor man with him up several flights of stairs and up into his dorm floor.

"You'll be fine, Frenchie. You've gone through worse than this."

Prussia was always the type to drag off the blonds back to his quarters, even when they were younger and decidedly less bound to a tower. It was only a little bit of a coincidence that it was to get said blond companion drunk (another habit, surely). Francis let him, having that thick skull of his too filled with apathy for fine-legged creatures ripe for the taking.

"Such faith..." Have a dry laugh, Gilbert. It's all your French friend can offer.

"I was always a fuckload more religious than you ever were. Besides, a few drinks and you'll probably want to try to get into someone's pants." he smirked and tossed the door to his room open, glad it was empty of his other three roommates at the time.

"I have a pack of smokes here too if you want one."

"A fuckload. Prusse, mon ami, that is a very tactful way of describing your religious endeavors." He untangled himself from the wiry man to pat him on the back, looking around. "So, which bed is yours?"

Francis smiled, a bit easier now. He even gave the Prussian an appraising look. "You're willing to put yourself in the vicinity of my carnage desires? You are a good man."

"The bed on the far right is mine, kinda in the corner." he smiled at France and laughed, shaking his head.

"Carnal desires, I think we all have those. Hell, I'd like to tap half of those female nations but they'd probably try to kill me later. But, I've resisted you before I can do it again, my friend."

Wandering over to the bed, Francis shot his friend with a troubled smile. It wasn't until he was settled comfortably on the edge, hands clasped loosely in his lap, that he chose to respond.

"I am surprised you have avoided getting yourself killed thus far, Prusse. These are desperate times, perhaps they would like a reminder that they are living." Francis and his usual banter went hand in hand. So did the underlying concern. For himself. It was quickly brushed aside to pout, leaning back on his hands. "You deny me too often, cher ange." A smirk.

"Hey, how little faith do you have in me? Of course I'm not going to get myself killed! Maimed, maybe but not killed." he smirked and rummaged around in the trunk at the foot of his bed. Pulling out a massive bottle of jager that would have most sensible nations wondering how it came in that size of a bottle, he set it near Francis on the bed.

"I only deny you because I don't know where you've been other than everywhere with everyone." he teased and gave the french man a wink and tossed him a pack of peach flavoured cigarettes. "Shut up and have a smoke, you're more handsom when you're quiet." he laughed.

Oh he'll take your cigarettes but not without smartly swatting the pale man in the arm, reaching into his pocket for a light. "I would have treated you special! You like it when I hold you, denial and all." Snorting, he placed the more than favorable cig between his lips, lighting it. He exhaled a plume of smoke in his friend's direction.

"Did you give it a name?" Yes, he's looking at the bottle large enough to be a small child.

Gilbert rolls his eyes and flops down beside Francis on the bed with a snort. "So don't like cuddling. Sex, fuck yea, but not so much on the cuddling." those were lies, both men knew it but Prussia had an appearance to uphold.

"The bottle? No, it's a bottle." he laughed and gave France a teasing shove.

Francis took in a deep breath, making a smoke ring. He was slowly calming himself, enough that he gave his friend a teasing grin. "It is only us, you do not have to pretend that you find no comfort in my arms~" Hey, his flirting wasn't broken.

He shifted, cigarette steady in his lips, taking the bottle in his hands. It is rather... impressive. "We will reconsider that after we have consumed all of its contents, non?" A grunt and he pouted lightly. "Save that for after, as well, hm?"

Edited 2011-08-30 19:07 (UTC)

"I don't know Frenchie, can you handle my five meters?" he gives his usual cheeky grin and snags the smoke from France's lips, taking a drag. "You remember how to drink that stuff? It's not like the wine you love so much." He leaned around his friend and flicked the ashes onto a plate he'd taken from the kitchens.

Francis huffed at that, now sans cigarette. "I suppose there is no other choice but to be able to handle it. Lord knows you can't handle mine." Low blow, but Gil just wasn't the kind to gracefully shove more than boot leather up his ass. Even that was questionable.

"You know, mon ami, I can drink more than wine. Whiskey was my second choice." Though he only got stuck with that because he'd been around the British so much in his past. He leaned out of the way of Gilbert's trek to the 'ashtray', snorting. "Stealing from the kitchens, Prusse?"

"Whiskey? Been spending a lot of time with Scotland again?" Prussia raised a snowy eyebrow at that. He'd never liked distilled bog water, he'd drink vodka before that and vodka still make him sick if he even smelled the substance.

"And the only reason I can't handle yours is that there isn't much there to start with." if France wanted to fight about it, Gilbert wasn't beyond the lowest of the low blows. and after taking another drag from the cancer-stick he handed it back to France. "Have to do something to keep me entertained."

oh good!

Re: oh good!

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