Hell's bells, Alfred...

[the_jones_files]

 It's bad enough that he accidently planned two dates for the same night, but this. Is. Ridiculous.

He dives behind the couch, barely dodging the toad demon's acidic spit. He didn't want this thing trashing his apartment, but demons weren't exactly the easiest thing to defeat. The best thing he could do at the moment was deflect it's attacks. He

Comments

[rougeblancbleu]

"Mon Dieu...! My apple pie," he cries, looking shocked in his frilly apron. "Sweet America, you have destroyed it, the beautifully creamed surface and magnificently crispy crust, the joyous scent of baked apples..." He sweeps his hands up and clenches them as he finishes. France sighs, growing dejected. "Oh, sweet, it is gone forever."

[the_jones_files]

... He stares at this... drama queen.

"I didn't mean to blast down the wall if that's what you mean. And what did you call me?"

[rougeblancbleu]

"I don't care about the wall, it is a lesser evil! My pie, my pitiful pie. Pitiful, pitiful! I spent so much passion on it and now it is in pieces." He seems to come back to himself, and brushes aside some tears (or does he?). "I called you nothing out of the ordinary."

[the_jones_files]

"I thought I heard you call me 'America'. My name's Alfred, America is a country... Wait, pie?" He looks ... oh great, his backside is covered in pie.

[rougeblancbleu]

"You are Alfred, you are America. You are human, you are nation. What are we? What are you? What am I? We are both, we are naught, yet we are. Aren't we? Oh, how thrilling. You know how to think, unlike England!"

[the_jones_files]

... Reaches into his pokets in hopes of finding his blasting rod. He finds his rifle, close enough.

"Who the hell are you?"

[rougeblancbleu]

"You don't recognize me? I'm hurt... There's a hole in my heart, right here." Then he gracefully transitions to a bow. "France. Francis Bonnefoy, at your service."

[the_jones_files]

"Okay, Francis, how do you know me? ...Did the White Council send you?"

[rougeblancbleu]

"I've known you since you were a little boy. How I desired to have you. You could have learned refinement and grace, but no. Alas, he won." A small smile slips through. "But you left him."

"I'm here of my own volition. The halls, the rooms, the variety. The delights, the charms... The questions, the answers. It is art, the best."

[the_jones_files]

"Desired to have you" was all he needed to hear. He reveals the gun and aims it at Francis.

"Stay the hell away from me."

[rougeblancbleu]

He backpedals, giving out a cry, and throws his hands up. "My sweet child, I haven't done a thing! I am an innocent man. Don't do this to me... Don't convict an innocent; I thought you knew liberty, her, the woman I placed in your habour in 1886! Oh--"

[the_jones_files]

"Just be quiet, please. You aren't making your situation with me any better, you know..."

He'd be arrested if he shot a man. Well, if he was still in Chicago, which he apparently isn't anymore. Woman in 'his' harbour, 1886... what was he talking about?

[rougeblancbleu]

"Certainly, y-you can have your quiet." ... ... ... After a few moments, he mumbles something about burnt toast. Then he starts. "Oh no! I must return to the kitchen."

[the_jones_files]

"Yeah, you go and do that." He's watching you.

[rougeblancbleu]

He hurries off. "Please oh please don't be cinders...! My beautiful food, all in ruins!" France throws the door open. He fans his nose. "What have I done..."

'wall he made in the wall' that makes perfect sense

[the_jones_files]

Turns around to look at the hole he made in the wall. Today's been rather eventful - two dates, toad demons, blasting through walls and landing on a pie...

"Kirkland's going to have a riot when he hears about this."