If you enter in the room you'll notice it's a Gym, a very big one, and a young man is training. Not, it's not Germany even if he looks like him, he's still Holy Roman Empire who's hitting a wood mannequin with a wooden sword. A Mannequin with a piture of Francis glued on it.
He has been around in the HQ for a very long while and he already knows
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Bon matin. Having fun with your stick?
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[Just because you aren't her vassal quite yet is no reason to excuse a slip in your guard, distractions or not.]
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[He doesn't want to give you the pleasure to see him angry.]
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Well. I'm sure you can ask. Who knows? If you amuse me enough I might even oblige you.
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"..."
[ooc: is she wearing something it can identify her as a napoleonic France?]
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Giving up so easily?
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"Go away."
He glares at her.
[**never admit it.]
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"If you're looking for a fight just tell me, bitch." he almost yelled throwing his sword on the grownd... it would be useless against her.
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Not particularly. You're just dreadfully fun to bother, that's all.
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And I'm not stupid enough to listen your bothersome words.
[yes, be calm.]
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Hmmm. Smarter than you look, I suppose?
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I just don't want to waste my energies here to be able to kick your ass when I'll be back in my world.
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