[This is France, crouched somewhere dark. The light of the communicator glints off the glass lenses of the goggles covering his eyes. Even with damp cloth bands covering his nose and mouth he still coughs roughly, still breathes in the noxious fumes; but he can still be understood in both French and English
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Francis? Francis, where are you?
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[Then he shakes his head.]
It i▒▓ot right... None of it.
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▐░▒ver seen creatures like these--▐░▒ease, please ▐░▒e careful.
[That genuine concern in his voice totally doesn't exist what are you talking about.]
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You can't hear any concern in her voice either, obviously, or read it on her face. Don't be silly.]
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Nods.
And the feed cuts off.
When it returns it's been a while and France is curled up in his bed and all that can be seen are his blue eyes blinking.]
... Rosemary? Angleterre?
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[Peers a little closer, searching for some sign of injury.] ... Are you alright then?
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[He'll be alright.]
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[even shitty fathers can be proud of their kids, okay. He looks as though he's about to say something else, but he stops himself and just covers it up with a grin.]
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[Thought that hesitation is suspicious.] What's that look for?
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Wait--]
What look?
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