(Untitled)

[fukuchou]

Who: Clovis and Souji
Where: Roving around Som!
What: The date that isn't a date; head hurt yet?
Style: Third (but feel free to switch it up.)
Status: Closed

Comments

[fukuchou]

"You could tell me about both." He agreed. If he wasn't quite curious in either subject, then he was at least interested in how Clovis would talk about those things. Politicians and high-born men always had a way of speaking that Souji found interesting. A way of lying, a way of seeming gracious, and a way of being more open, honest, and transparent then they'd meant to, through those means. Be they playing arrogance or playing humble, it was always a show.

In Clovis' case, the best he could hope for was that some of the real him would become visible through all of the political jargon and the rehashed speeches and lines. He wasn't sure as to why he should really be interested Clovis, either; maybe it was like a goal for the evening~ If he could find out one bare, honest fact that made Clovis redeemable and possibly even likable, he'd consider this outing a victory of sorts.

So, giving as gracious a smile as he could muster, playing at the game himself, he went on, "And then after I can tell you what it is I enjoy. For now, though, why don't you start off with your Homeland, and how you became interested in the arts. You do music and painting? Is that valued there?"

[failedprince]

"Britannia." His fingers interlaced as he thought of his home -- the swelling of his heart was mixed with nationalism and woe. He would never again be able to see his homeland, but he could bring pieces of it to Somarium, couldn't he? His shoulders dropped just slightly before he straightened them once more. "Are there words to explain the most perfect empire in the world? I do not believe so.

"The empire, as I see it, wishes to bring peace to the entire world." Clovis gestured with his hand to make a circle in the air. "No one really appreciates war and the like, do they? But Britannia never experiences such things. We live in complete peace and prosperity. I don't see what is wrong with trying to ensure that all other places feel the same as we do." He, of course, left out that while his beloved empire did not experience war itself; it did declare war on quite a few countries. But that was only because they would not see reason.

"His Majesty is a kind and just king who is greatly concerned with the world and its state." Clovis closed his eyes as he thought of his father. He did always try to speak properly when he spoke of him -- His Majesty and other such titles -- because it was improper to do otherwise. "It was why he appointed my elder brother, Schneizel, to be the Prime Minister. He is the most qualified and will ensure that we shall always find a way to ensure that peace I spoke of to the entire world."

His voice filled with pride as he spoke of his family, chest pushed out just a little as he was just happy to be related to such great men and women. "My elder sister Cornelia is a goddess when it comes to the battlefield and I can think of no one that would be able to defeat her." Clovis tipped his chin that much higher. "So as you can see, there is nothing that Britannia is not the best at in comparison to other countries."

A beat. "I can sing a little." His eyes lifted to the ceiling as he said so, and left what was unsaid unsaid -- that he could not play any other instrument. "I do enjoy painting and other such artistic expression. I suppose I became interested in it because photographs only capture so much. There is quite a bit more feeling and affection in art than can be held in a single snapshot from a camera.

"The affection held for the image can only be felt by those that were there and it lacks the ability to express that same feeling to anyone else without explanation." He gestured lightly once more in the air, but this time, it was with his index finger. "I realized that if I wished to capture my family, I would do so in a manner that would allow others to see and feel as I did when I was painting."

He shrugged his shoulders. "And then I expanded upon that idea to allow others to understand the genius that comes from my art through fashion and architecture." His wrist made a few circles in the air to indicate the 'etc., etc.'

[fukuchou]

Chin nestled into his palm, Souji listened to the monologue that followed. As dramatic as a Noh stage play were the many emotions that seemed to play across Clovis' face as he spoke; genuine emotion, at that. It gave him a different sort of voice and expression, wider somehow, warmer somehow. Souji, ever distracted from topics he found uninteresting, and ever with a lean toward analyzing those around him as if they were bugs he'd caught on the tip of his sword, found himself phasing in and out of what Clovis was actually saying. He was far more interested in how he was saying it, what about him changed as he spoke, and then figuring out why~

People were so much more interesting when treated as if they were puzzle games.

By the end of it all, one thing was dazzlingly clear; Clovis was head over heels nationalistic, a fond, glowing fan of his own country. That, at least, was commendable. A trait that many Japanese in how own time and place seemed to lack in the proper abundance.

"Lucky for me you found quite a few words." He quipped, before leaning back again, and getting into the meat of what he'd actually managed to gather. He would not touch the bit about war, 'making them feel as we do'. Two men could be given the same of everything for years, and feel completely differently. If Clovis was a Prince, then bred with such an ignorant attitude, he must be very low in line for the throne~ (Not that it often took geniuses or saints to rule a country.) "Aside from war and peace--" The irony made him smile, "--what else does Brittania excel at above all other countries? Though by every right~ a country that can rule by warrior spirit is a worthy sort of nation." He relented.

Amazingly, he found Clovis' dedication to his family as commendable as his nationalism. Who knew~? "So you paint your family in order to capture what it is they make you feel. Hn~ deeper than I thought, Clovis. Do you also do poetry?" After all; knowing poetry was mandatory if one was to consider themselves nobility.

[failedprince]

"I could go on about Britannia, but I'd rather not gush so. It is somewhat unbecoming." His hands rose to make a dismissive gesture, even though he did not realize that he had indeed done just what he had said that he would rather not have done. "Hm? What else? Technology, government, education, economy." His fingers ticked off what his country excelled at above all others -- he couldn't imagine being raised in any land but his own. He shuddered at the thought of being so barbaric and uneducated.

"There is little that Britannia can do that others can even hope to master." A beat. "Though, that is not to say that they do not do their best. I'm certain that even sub-par technology or education is better than none at all." Clovis smiled politely, showing that -- for once -- he actually meant very little offense in what it was that he said. Really, he hardly considered it an insult as he couldn't imagine anyone's country being greater than his own in anything.

"Art is very deep. It speaks not only of the soul of the artist but shows the audience their own." His eyes closed as his hand settled upon his chest to properly explain these feelings to Souji. One eye opened at the question if he did poetry. "I actually don't. I'd rather find poetry in my work rather than write it out. There are only a few poets that I enjoy, anyway."

[fukuchou]

Souji chuckled faintly at the remark that gushing was unbecoming, and gave Clovis the benefit of the doubt by assuming he was being purposefully ironic.

"In your world, how old is your nation? When was it born?" Questioned, wondering if Brittania was much like Clovis; young and pompous, having one day decided to rebel against the world order and declare itself the glittering example of nationhood. Or was it old, and did it grow to eminence slowly? The fact that Brittania was not in the world of his future made Souji less sour to the idea of it.

And as to the topic of art... "Mn~ fair point. No matter what an artist tries to display, whoever views it has to look at it from their own perspective. For example..." A pause here, recalling the piece he had in mind. "In Kondou-san's sitting room, there's a watercolor of a woman in kimono, beside a lake. Her face is hidden by her sleeve, and a long white crane sits beside her. Hijkata, who reads the old Chinese poets, thinks she is crying into her sleeve, and the crane represents the fleetingness of love. Saitou, who is embarrassingly left-handed, looks at it and assumes she is hiding some similar kinda defect~" A pause, then a grin. "And I think the crane and the woman represent the same thing." Of course, he'd made up what the first two thought~ He just assumed he knew them well enough, through and through, to take an accurate personal guess.

Tilting his head, Souji lifted a brow, still grinning faintly. "So what's your favourite poem, then? Speak it."

After all, shouldn't he be able to recite?

As they spoke, the drinks arrived first. Souji only nodded his head the barest bit to acknowledge them, before picking up the wine bottle to pour a bit for Clovis. It was customary, and he thought nothing of it; wasn't trying to play the gentleman in the lease.

[failedprince]

His hands clapped together as he knew this from his history lessons. He didn't really care about such things, to be honest -- what mattered to him was that they were already present and that was what was important, but he did try to maintain his studies enough. This was one bit of information that he recalled and felt proud of himself for being able to do so. Noticing the childish gesture, he set his hands down on his lap instead. "We can trace our origins back to 55 B.C. As such, it is quite old, wouldn't you say?"

Clovis tipped his chin up a little more, proud of the fact that it had been surviving so long. "That is a nice way to view a painting, though. I can't say that I'm against any one of those interpretations." The people saw what they wanted and were able to reflect upon it on themselves. He thought of how he would think of such a painting, but decided that he couldn't decide until he saw it for himself. The lines and the design of it could speak so much that he felt that hearing about it would only lessen in some way. There was so much that could be found when seeing something with one's own eyes, after all.

"My favorite poem? Let's see." His eyes closed before he opened them. "I feel as though I am giving a speech. How peculiar." Still, he was happy to see that his drink was being poured for him while he thought of what it was that he wanted to quote. Eventually, he decided on and quoted it, "The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But the theory now goes that the apple's a rose,
And the pear is, and so's the plum, I suppose. The dear only know what will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose-- but were always a rose."

Finished, he lifted his glass slightly to Souji and took a small drink before asking. "What poem is your favorite, then? Or do you not have one?"

[fukuchou]

"Aah, that is old~ Impressive." He relents, finally. Though Japan was crafted by the Gods, China was nearly as old; and from China came an expanse of culture, respected and even emulated (until perfected by them of course~). So the age of Britannia could be respected, at very least~

As to his favourite poem, Souji chuckled under his breath. It was silly and it suited him; a compliment on the surface with a double-meaning barely hidden beneath. "Nice choice. It fits." It sounded almost a bit childish; but maybe that's why he liked it. "My favourite is... 'Here upon ancient house, paved with a hundred stones, ferns grow in the eaves; But numerous as these odds and ends are, the old memories are more numerous still.' By
Emperor Juntoku." He smirked a little bit, then went to tap his napkin. "Do you have a pen?"

[failedprince]

"That's an acceptable poem." Acceptable for one that is not from Britannia or part of the Areas that they come from. He blinked once a little confused by the question before fishing through his clothes. There were inner pockets as he would rather not have outer-pockets -- those ruined his outfit, as far as he was concerned. This meant that he had to turn his chair slightly to look for what it was that he was looking for before producing a pen.

Of course, he would have one. Sometimes inspiration would come to him and he needed to write it down. Holding it out the pen, he was interested enough to see what it was that Souji was going to create. "Are you going to draw something?" That was the immediate question that came to mind. He lifted up his glass moments later to drink a little of the wine, waiting to see what the other was up to.

[fukuchou]

"Mn." Was the only response he gave, taking the pen from Clovis and uncapping it. The tip was really too thin for anything like what this should properly look like; but he assumed laying the tip down for an extra few seconds would let the ink bleed, and it would make at least a fair substitute.

Putting the pen to the napkin, and going from up to down, left to right, he quickly began to write the poem in its native characters. The characters would bleed together, curling more than usual; calligraphy was a mandatory art, in his corps.

When he finished the five lines, he turned the napkin around to face Clovis. He didn't expect him to be impressed by the Japanese language, but he should at least see the poem as the art it was intended as.

"This is what it looks like; heh, well~ more or less. Seeing it is important. Or you don't get the right feeling from it."

[failedprince]

Taking the napkin, he held it carefully as to ensure that he could get a good view as to what it was. No, not impressed by the Japanese language, but he was impressed with one thing. "I suppose I will say that the Japanese," -- this word was said with a little doing, as he was still getting used to saying that instead of 'Eleven -- "do have lovely writing. It has a nice gentle feeling to it." It was just a shame that the people were not the same. He wasn't sure if he could ever forgive them for what had happened to his brother and sister.

Yes, they are alive, but he still wondered what had happened to them. Why did they not go to find Britannian soldiers to be brought home? Why wouldn't they want to come home? So confusing. But he hated such thoughts and do he dismissed them from his mind, as he did everything else that bothered him for more than a few minutes.

"You're right. Just like any painting, the feeling is in seeing rather than having it described." His hand settled on his chin as he nodded to himself. It was not the most polite pose as he had his elbows on the table. Which he noticed belatedly and pulled them off so that he could sit a little straighter. "Thank you for showing it to me."

As he said so, their food finally arrived, and he smiled lightly in turn to the waiter -- actually thanking him for bringing it this time around.