[Action] He won't leave without scarring over half of Liberty.
Seventh day of March in the year of our lord 2011
Léon had managed to lock his idiot of a nephew into his own bedroom.
A challenge, after all, can never be turned down, especially if it is a chance to settle the score with one of Francis'... more unsavoury friends. He had to prepare myself for whatever he would find, whether it be another version of the sissy-boy with long hair and not a muscle to his name to the more borish types he had... only heard of. After dressing in his more suitable dueling attire and polishing his best sword, it was little hassle to find the park where this "John Paul" had mentioned.
Unlike he assumed, he spotted the man right away- Flashy attire standing arrogantly on a small grassy knoll of a hill. The tattoos stood out the most, causing Léon to scoff and smirk, making his way towards the man with a renewed vigor. Calling out, they locked eyes and a familiar shocked look registered in the Kiwi's eyes.
This only fueled the rage in Leon's veins and he charged, sword exploding out of it's shealth and the glint of the polished blade dancing in the late-day sun.
His opponent's sword of course was just as deadly, a fine work in craftmanship that even Léon himself would willingly admit. But now was not the time for admiring such a thing. Swords clashed violently, the sound echoing through the spot John had chosen, and neither of them gave way, glaring into each other's eyes with a mix of blood-lust and loathing.
Jumping back only to lunge again, the small Frenchman flourished, John just barely managing to parry the attacks and not finding room to counter. The Kiwi's technique left much to be desired, compared to Leon's life-long sword wielding prowess. They fought for what seemed like ages, truly only the span of minutes until Léon finally lunged, toppling over the too-large of man to the ground and hovering over him with a malicious grin adorning his face. Both parties had managed to sustain wounds, both slick with sweat and panting as they tried to regain their breath.
And just as he was about to finish the job, sword lifting above his head; a shock hit him like a brick wall, vague shouting in Spanish just barely being registered before -
- He was out like a light before he even knew what hit him.
Francis wasn’t far behind to lug him back home, shouting a quick apology before taking off- yelping at the violent curses behind him.
---
Eighth day of March in the year of our lord 2011
After the duel yesterday Léon was in a much calmer mood - for a tiny Frenchman after all - and he had managed to sneak out again (Francis really had no say in the matter- blade at his uncle's hip making him a virtual mute). This time he was content to wander, exploring Liberty and all of it's pleasantries. This included a certain magic shop with certain people working that day.
It was amusing really, or at least Léon found it to be, touching things marked ‘do not touch’ and creating general havoc. Fortunately enough for the angry store owner (who seemed... odd, almost like he believed in this mumbo jumbo- and what was with that curl..?)- one of the workers invited him to “chill out” as soon as his shift was over.
Before Léon knew what was happening everything seemed much brighter and he wanted nothing more than to roll in a meadow of grass- granted, the ground was still a bit chilly and it wasn't quite thawed enough to do anything but smoke this wonderful creation and talk to his new best friend, Kaj. Best best friend, the best one in the whole world, no one could top him and he was a million times better than that ungrateful nephew of his- Especially their delightful conversation about the finer sex and wet t-shirt contests.
Of course, it was unlike Léon not to share in his bounty- this bounty of course containing the wonderful blunt in his possession and the target a much, much too tall man with what Kaj called "tulip' hair who unfortunately was walking by.
It ended badly. A failed human tower with the two new bestest best friends and an attempt to take the leer off the man's face doing nothing but earning a confused and insulting stare. Well that had failed. Best try someone else, right? There were plenty of fish in the sea after all-!
And it barely took any time for Léon to forget about his new best buddy as soon as a beautiful brunette and a fine rear-end walked by. Bright green eyes only helped seal the deal and he was quickly calling after h(im)er- catching up finally he winked, gave her his best charming smile and then suddenly stopped as he started to move closer.
There was something wrong here. Something very- OH DIEU SHE’S A HE-
Before the wo- the man had a chance to react to any of his advances, Léon had taken off the other way down the street.
---
The elder Frenchman’s high had finally just worn off and he was in a foul mood, a bit tired and still embarrassed from flirting with- well let’s just not bring that up again. So of course the natural next step was to take that out on someone he had a vendetta against.
He was at the Russian’s house in almost no time at all- this time without that sexy-but-crazy Belorussian woman keeping him from Ivan and revenge. Finding himself in the kitchen after hacking down the front door with his sword, he found himself locked in almost a Mexican standoff; Ivan throwing plates and him dodge, meticulously attempting to inch closer and grinning wickedly all the while. Few plates actually hit there target, and it seemed that Léon finally had the upper hand-
Until, at least, Ivan disappeared from sight, reappearing with a bottle of vodka with a towel shoved in the end of it. He blinked, staring and stock still for a few moments as the Russian retrieved a zippo from his pocket and he suddenly realized with the flick of the lighter. Merde.
Léon barely managed to charge out of the front door as the homemade Molotov smashed against the front of the entrance, dousing it in flames large enough for him to feel the heat from. He turned to look for only a split second before turning on his heel and taking off.
He didn’t see anything.
---
Leon was tired, he’d had a very long day- from creating havoc in a magic store to getting high, flirting with men and even watching part of a Russian’s house go up in flames. But of course, like all French and Italian men, he got a second wind as he saw a very well endowed woman walking down the street just after the sun had finally set.
It seemed to be going well, his advances accepted with a sharp grin and even talk of… bondage; And the wonders of outdoor sex. He seemed to cement the deal as soon as his hand crept lower, firmly taking hold of her rear-end and giving it a nice squeeze.
However, he found himself tied and abandoned to a tree in the middle of the park with a bad case of blue balls.
Well. Today had been mostly successful.
Tomorrow he’d just have to take it out on that Prussian heathen.