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Bastille Day

Magnus Densen

Magnus Densen: Admin; Posts : 169
Join date : 2012-02-15

Post n°26

Re: Bastille Day

Magnus Densen July 15th 2013, 6:43 pm

〈♤〉

The Hungarian waddled down the corridors of the building as she searched for the exit. She was so convinced that the Frenchman pulled that stunt on all of them since he was, after all, one of the most popular countries in the whole world. The simple mention of Paris made citizens from across the world swoon with nostalgia and desire. It was annoying.
She hardly noticed the Russian who walked past her, so she kept on walking. Her mind became clearer by the time she reached the exit and the sunshine no longer bothered her eyes. Ah, finally the annoying headache began to fade! Fresh air was all she needed to feel better, so she decided to linger in the little park in front of the building. However, not long after she seated herself on a bench, she heard cries and shouts coming from just feet away. The woman turned her head in the specific direction where she saw France get knocked out with the Russian's shovel. "What in the world--...?", her voice trailed off and she gasped. He was being buried? That whack might've left him unconscious, but heavens! He was certainly still alive! Elizaveta hugged her belongings to her chest and ran towards where the Frenchman's grave was. "Wait, Russia! You can't bury him!", she cried and flopped to her knees beside the freshly filled hole. He was awake for she heard him screaming, although his voice was muffled due to the overwhelming amount of dirt weighing on him. "He'll get crushed, if we don't get him out of there! What were you thinking?!" Elizaveta scolded Ivana. Without even looking at her, she began to dig with her own bare hands. He needed to breath, so at least she could dig out his head. Dirt got under her nails as she dug, but she managed to reach his head - of course, scratching his face a little in the process. "Francis, are you alright?!"

Francis Bonnefoy

Francis Bonnefoy: Posts : 170
Join date : 2012-03-31

Post n°27

Re: Bastille Day

Francis Bonnefoy July 15th 2013, 7:14 pm

~~~~

Francis could just barely hear the muffled voice of the Hungarian above, but at this rate, the Frenchman was quite close to passing. He winced a bit, however, as he felt nails lightly graze his cheek, only for the dirt around his face and head to break away as the Hungarian dug out his head, leaving Francis coughing and spluttering, gasping for breath and coughing up dirt. The Frenchman truly looked like a wreck; his face and hair were cacked with dirt, while tears were running along his dirty-covered cheeks, while blood dripped from his nose, the rest of his face a little red and noticably bruised from the hit from Ivana's shovel. And, a small red mark signaled where Elizabeta's nails had accidentally scratched him. But, when he realized his savior was Elizabeta, the Frenchman flinched away, a soft little cry coming from his lips after he coughed. "H-How could I possibly be alright?!" He spat out, but his voice shifted into a mix of a whimper and a cry, tears running down his cheeks as he squirmed slightly under the remainder of the dirt, managing to get an arm free and dig a bit, to at least get his chest out from under the dirt. Coughing, and with much difficulty, Francis pulled the rest of himself out of the hole after a bit more digging; by now, he was fully crying, and proceeded to just collapse, filthy with dirt, his white suit and trousers ruined, hair a mess, and face even worse. "I've gotten enough torture today!" Francis choked out, head lowered as he cried, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. Spitting dirt, he winced and tried to stagger to his feet, failing horribly and collapsing back on the ground.

Emil Steilsson

Emil Steilsson: Posts : 35
Join date : 2012-07-22

Post n°28

Re: Bastille Day

Emil Steilsson July 15th 2013, 7:45 pm

Bastille Day - Page 2 9072f059-16ec-4895-9409-064051867a36_zps5ea8111f

↖♥Kingdom of Lovely♥↗

Reez Kirkland

The micronation had watched as France was buried and tried to go save him, but had locked herself in the room somehow from the outside. "Bloody FUCK!" She yelled and kicked at the door. Closing her eyes, the young red-head thought back to the previous night. She had been playing a game where one could build homes out of cubes and she had placed an iron door in her house and forgot to make a button to open it from the inside. "Bloody karma...." She opened her eyes and took a coat hanger and picked the lock on the door before charging outside, the cane in hand like a bat.

"How dare you bury Francis!" she scolded as she started swinging the cane at Ivana. One of several things would most likely happen. the most likely being Ivana hurting Lovely and probably beating her up. Not that it mattered, she needed to at least cause a diversion long enough for Hungary, who apparently sobered up and recovered from her hangover, to help France escape.

Magnus Densen

Magnus Densen: Admin; Posts : 169
Join date : 2012-02-15

Post n°29

Re: Bastille Day

Magnus Densen July 15th 2013, 8:22 pm

〈♤〉

She was relieved to see he was still breathing. Her brows were knitted together with concern and her lips threatened to curve into a faint smile. He snapped at her, but the woman didn't flinch, however guilt weighed upon her heart due to having been so rude to him earlier. What could she do? She wasn't one to truthfully apologize due to the traits she acquired in her youth. Moreover, she leaned back just enough to grant him the needed space to dig his way out. The sight of his ruined attire and harmed face immobilized the Hungarian. She watched him with sick fascination as he threw a tantrum and only later did she realize how helpless the man was. "No-no, let me help yo--", she stammered, vainly outstretching her dirty arms to aid him. She felt her heart fall into pieces together with the poor Frenchman, which caused the brunette to gasp lightly. If there was anything she disliked was the sight of a crying man. He, a man, who should be strong was broken and that broke her heart. Eliza bit her lip as she felt salty tears threatening to sting her eyes. She shifted closer to him and gently wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Apologies", she said under her breath and planted a platonic kiss upon his head. "I'm sorry", she whispered lastly, lips lingering warmly in the dirty blonde tresses.

Ivana Braginska

Ivana Braginska: Admin; Posts : 151
Join date : 2012-02-15

Post n°30

Re: Bastille Day

Ivana Braginska July 15th 2013, 8:45 pm

Seeing the Frenchman cry made Ivana feel somewhat remorseful. The Russian woman kicked down the tombstone and walked away. Feeling guilty that her "harmless" fun had hurt another, Ivana went to the store and bought something proper this time. She was in France's home country and she had taken her joke too far. On his birthday as well. The Russian knew she would have to make amends.

After returning, she walked up to Francis with a bottle of his favorite wine. Her own eyes tried not to fill with tears. Handing it to him, she looked him in the eyes. "I apologize.... I was only trying to have some fun." By now, a few tears made their way to her eyes but she wiped them away. "I'll take my leave now..."

Ivana grabbed her shovel and started the long walk back to her frozen home. "Enjoy the rest of your birthday France."

Francis Bonnefoy

Francis Bonnefoy: Posts : 170
Join date : 2012-03-31

Post n°31

Re: Bastille Day

Francis Bonnefoy July 15th 2013, 9:57 pm

~~~~

Tears running down his cheeks, Francis looked down, shaking slightly. It was a rare sight to see Francis in such emotional turmoil; he barely, if ever, truly wept. Only when he cried did it signal that he truly was hurt. While he was a bit sensitive at times, it took a lot to actually get the Frenchman borderline upset or furious, and now was no exception. It was his blasted birthday, and while one person had been rude, the other had attempted to murder him. Only one person had been kind to him so far, and while he was grateful for that, it hurt to know others were making his day..well, plain horrible. For the second time, the poor Frenchman flinched as he felt Elizabeta's arms around his shoulders; it was almost as if he didn't want anything to do with her right now. Even the soft-spoken apology and kiss couldn't quite mend the broken man, who was always so cheerful and, all in all, didn't deserve the vile treatment he’d been given so far in the morning. Whimpering softly, he hesitated, before proceeding to cry softly into the female’s chest, wrapping his arms around her in a weak hug, signaling the aching need for comfort. He sat nothing; all the Frenchman did was cry and whimper; while eventually, he did pull away, it was only when Ivana had returned. Another flinch, though he silently accepted the wine, yet even he didn't have the appetite for it, nor did he have the mental strength to thank Ivana properly. Cheeks stained with dirt and tears, the Frenchman shifted slightly and tried to turn away from Elizabeta, hiccuping a bit as he wiped his bleeding nose. “I-I just want to go home..” He choked out softly, setting the wine bottle down and wrapping his arms around his knees, coughing up a bit more dirt. Francis looked horrible, felt horrible, and overall, was having a horrible morning and a rotten birthday. “Everyone but Reez was so cruel to me, and the morning isn't even over..” Francis whimpered softly, shutting his eyes. Honestly, he didn't think he could handle anything else vile today; if he did, he’d surely have another, much more worse meltdown. "I didn't do anything wrong.."

Arthur Kirkland

Arthur Kirkland: Posts : 107
Join date : 2012-03-17

Post n°32

Re: Bastille Day

Arthur Kirkland July 16th 2013, 9:28 pm

- - - -

Arthur took a quick second to smooth out his dress shirt with one hand while the other held a small box wrapped in frilly ribbon & lace. He heaved a sigh, stracked his back, and pushed open the door. He stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the Frenchman hugging his knees and looking like a complete mess. Clearly no one must have remembered the meeting today, but that didn't matter because Francis needed help and fast.

The Brit didn't take notice of Eliza or Reez, only Francis. Setting the small box on the table, he walked quickly to the other's side, carfully minding the gaping hole in the ground and the pile of dirt. "What in god's name happened here??" He asked, kneeling and putting a hand against his shoulder. What a terrible thing he must have gone through, especially on his birthday. Even though Francis and Arthur constantly bickered for the dumbest reasons, he would never wish something as this to a someone he considered a friend. Whoever did this would pay, but in time. Right now Francis needed stability and it seemed Arthur came just in time.

[I don't know what I'm doing and forgive me for jumping in so late fnkhlgfakjfghlf ]

Francis Bonnefoy

Francis Bonnefoy: Posts : 170
Join date : 2012-03-31

Post n°33

Re: Bastille Day

Francis Bonnefoy July 16th 2013, 11:22 pm

~~~~

Francis didn't notice the Englishman's arrival at first, too ridden with anxiety to even bother to look up. However, the Frenchman did end up opening his eyes back up, the moment he heard the familiar voice of Arthur, causing the poor man to stiffen. Feeling the other male's hand upon his shoulder, Francis blinked tears from his eyes and looked up at the Englishman, yet the tears were already building back up in his eyes as a feeling of dread prickled inside him. Mon Dieu, it's Arthur..What will he do? Francis thought; he actually feared that the Englishman would treat him horribly, or argue with him for something meaningless. He hesitated, before opening his mouth to speak, a few tears coming down his dirt-covered cheeks. "I-Ivana..buried me alive..E-Elizabeta was rude to me when she arrived at the meeting, but she was hungover..Only Reez hasn't been cruel to me. E-Everyone else seems to be out to get me today." Francis managed to choke out, emitting a tiny whimper of sorts. "The day is barely over and I've been treated horribly! I-I look like a wreck, too. First someone was rude, then I was almost killed, what next?" The Frenchman tightened his grip around his knees, hugging them securely to his chest. All in all, Francis just looked completely miserable as he glanced up at the opposing Englishman through teary, pained eyes.

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