France (Francis Bonnefoy) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
paysdelamour) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rukhgate2013-01-23 09:48 pm
paysdelamour) wrote in rukhgate2013-01-23 09:48 pm
Entry tags:
Un ⚜ Arrivée
[France has absolutely no idea what had just happened. All he remembers is that one minute, he was at home... and the next he had walked through that door, and been enrolled in a school for magicians (which didn't exist, by the way) and assigned to a kodor, or... something like that. And now maref was being held the next day - at least, that was what his papers had said. They really seemed to enjoy making their new students hit the ground running.
Still, this was all a little too much to take in, even for a nation who prided himself on being able to adapt to almost any situation. So there he is, sitting in the courtyard, with his few things collected together into his lap, trying to soak everything in. It's still so surreal, despite how Earth-like it may seem to him - like this is some sort of dream.
He glanced briefly at his arm, and the hideous... thing they'd put there - they'd called in the Rukh's Eye, a way of communication in this world. Initially he'd refused it, but they'd forcibly rolled up his sleeve and shoved it onto his arm. After staring at it for another moment, he quickly pulled down his sleeve to hide it as best he could, before standing up. Well! There was no way he was going to learn about this place if he didn't do something. So he turned to the nearest person, and approached them, smiling, with a question.]
Pardonnez-moi... I am new here, if you could not tell... do you by any chance know where the, ah, maref rooms are...?
(( ooc: You can find him anywhere you like - perhaps you're the person he asked for directions, or maybe you meet him as he's snooping around the area, or even as he's going to the dormitories and getting settled in! Just put where you want to meet him in the subject <3also if you're a pretty lady, watch out, he flirts ))
Still, this was all a little too much to take in, even for a nation who prided himself on being able to adapt to almost any situation. So there he is, sitting in the courtyard, with his few things collected together into his lap, trying to soak everything in. It's still so surreal, despite how Earth-like it may seem to him - like this is some sort of dream.
He glanced briefly at his arm, and the hideous... thing they'd put there - they'd called in the Rukh's Eye, a way of communication in this world. Initially he'd refused it, but they'd forcibly rolled up his sleeve and shoved it onto his arm. After staring at it for another moment, he quickly pulled down his sleeve to hide it as best he could, before standing up. Well! There was no way he was going to learn about this place if he didn't do something. So he turned to the nearest person, and approached them, smiling, with a question.]
Pardonnez-moi... I am new here, if you could not tell... do you by any chance know where the, ah, maref rooms are...?
(( ooc: You can find him anywhere you like - perhaps you're the person he asked for directions, or maybe you meet him as he's snooping around the area, or even as he's going to the dormitories and getting settled in! Just put where you want to meet him in the subject <3
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He finds her calling him "dear" kind of cute - assuming she's human, poor thing doesn't realize he's thousands of years older than her. But that all changes when she introduces herself. His hand pauses as he tries to process her words.]
... Kirkland? Angleterre? [A beat, then he mutters to himself in French for a moment.] Ce n'est pas possible.
[But the more that he looks at her... those familiar eyes... and surely, if this was Arthur as a woman he would have been recognized.]
... mademoiselle Kirkland, does the name Bonnefoy mean anything to you?
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[It doesn't take long for realisation to dawn on England, she's been aware it was a possibility for some time now, after all, and she has an instinct for these things. It's not certain, of course, but England's body realises what is going on a few seconds before the possibility reaches her brain. Horrified, she instinctively slaps France right across the cheek.
So yes, she does recognise him in a way...] You!
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Aïe-! [He isn't expecting the slap because it came out of absolutely nowhere (at least, as far as he was concerned). So he barely has any time to react to it other than move his hand up to cover the blow when it's all said and done.]
What in the name of god was that for?!
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C'est vrai - I am François Bonnefoy, Francis, if you prefer... La République française. Hesitantly at your service, mademoiselle Kirkland.
[His scowl turns into a downright shocked expression as she mentions his beard.] Ridicul-? How is my beard ridiculous?
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Rosemary Kirkland, England. [...] Look, I'll apologise for slapping you but you really shouldn't startle people like that. [Not apologising for the beard thing though.]
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You are forgiven. Though I am not sure how you were startled, mademoiselle Angleterre. And for the record? My beard... it is not ridiculous. It is... distinguished.
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May I ask you a few more questions, Rosemary? [With his accent, it's coming out more like "Rose Marie", however.]
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... I suppose, if you must. [God damn why is French sexy, she kind of finds that endearing.] And it's Rosemary.