Carry on my wayward son, there'll be peace when you are done
[Somewhere in HQ, the door of one of the linen closets is slightly ajar. Curled up underneath the bottom shelf, his scrawny limbs jumbled together in a tight ball, is a young looking Germany, maybe ten, maybe as old as a stunted thirteen. He's wearing clothes that are worn and patched, but fairly modern, given his apparent youth, and his mouth is twisted in a tight frown even in sleep.]
[OOC: Okay, folks. This muse is a version of petit_prinz who went back to his own world after being in HQ, and has been fighting subversively for his independence since then; he didn't really remember/believe the details of his time here, but the emotional impact remained. Now that he's back, it will all come back to him more clearly. If he didn't know you before, and even if he did, be warned: this kid is a paranoid little fucker. Frances especially should tag with caution, as it's France in his world whom he was rebelling against.]
[OOC: Okay, folks. This muse is a version of petit_prinz who went back to his own world after being in HQ, and has been fighting subversively for his independence since then; he didn't really remember/believe the details of his time here, but the emotional impact remained. Now that he's back, it will all come back to him more clearly. If he didn't know you before, and even if he did, be warned: this kid is a paranoid little fucker. Frances especially should tag with caution, as it's France in his world whom he was rebelling against.]