http://creme-master.livejournal.com/ (
creme-master.livejournal.com) wrote in
animus_network2011-07-20 08:54 pm
One ⚜ Video
[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.]
[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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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."
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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."
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"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.
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"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.
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"You'll be fine, Frenchie. You've gone through worse than this."
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"Such faith..." Have a dry laugh, Gilbert. It's all your French friend can offer.
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"I have a pack of smokes here too if you want one."
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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."
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"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."
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"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.
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"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.
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"Did you give it a name?" Yes, he's looking at the bottle large enough to be a small child.
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"The bottle? No, it's a bottle." he laughed and gave France a teasing shove.
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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?"
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"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?"
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"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."
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He however did roll his eyes at that, swatting the man for stooping low as well as stealing his cigarette. Taking it back with a huff, Francis fixed the man with a look. They both knew that was a lie, but if Francis wanted to be cured he would take it anyway he could get. Firmly, "I think we should take care of this bottle, oui?", the Frenchman just avoided the subject.
Good job.
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"Scottie's a nice guy, just need to know what pushes his buttons and the fact that he's even grumpier than England. Course he's more fun than eyebrows but that's besides the point."
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A snort. "I'm wondering where he is in all of this actually... Perhaps he was just too stubborn to be captured?" An eye roll. "Then again, that begs to question why your face is here." Francis chuckled and offered up the bottle. "Those drapes were miserable, by the way. They needed changed."
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"My face? I have a wonderful face, noble as I've been told. Course my nose will never be the same thanks to Liz." he sighed and ran a hand over the bump there from how many times he'd broken his nose over the centuries. "Scotland will show up, give it time. I feel like we're part of a menagerie or something." looking over at France he took the bottle and took a long swing.
"I liked those drapes, they weren't that bad, just old."
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Or it could have been indigestion. Shrugging, he followed suit, sitting better on the bed with a low sigh. Long fingers waved to urge that large bottle back to him, expression somewhat teasing.
"Noble? Is that what it is now?" Not that Prussia was ugly, no. He was a handsome man even. Winking, he wasn't incredibly quick to add "Your nose has more character now, personally."
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"Yes noble, but that at the time might've just been because I washed more than everyone else. I really hated the eighteenth century for that reason." he shook his head and drummed his fingers on the top of his knee with a devious crooked smile crossing his face.
"Giving me compliments now Francis? Haven't heard those from you in a while."
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He crinkled his nose and took a stubborn swig. It was his way of not wanting to discuss the 18th century in any way because no. Turning his head away from watching the man he let his head rest against the wall with a dull thwack, sniffing.
"Someone has to give your ego a nice stroke from time to time. I am a good friend, after all. I wouldn't want to see you wither."
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