asdfahdfsa I-I'll be in my bunk...magerightsJuly 31 2011, 01:49:48 UTC
[It's difficult not to react, his body responding to the touches and words even as he fights the urge to give into long ignored desires. He's done this dance many times in the past, but since Justice there's been no one, easier to convince himself there are more important things than simple pleasures.
It's why Francis' words are so much harder to simply push aside, as is the man himself, and Anders is forced to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from giving too much of an indication how very tempting that offer is.]
I- No, this should not happen. It won't- I can't-
[It's too easy for 'once' to become 'occasionally' to become 'regularly' and then it would only be a matter of time until someone got hurt and he can't allow that.]
Francis, please. You cannot ask this of me. You don't know what may happen.
[Trying to make his intention gentle and clear, Anders' hands move to Francis' shoulders and try to push him back firmly. Enough to hopefully establish a little distance and stop the other man from tempting him with
( ... )
Correct that to both being awesome and it's accurate magerightsAugust 1 2011, 05:23:50 UTC
[Justice rises as well, Anders' body moved with a surety and power the mage normally lacks. Power radiates from him, mirroring the rage burning beneath the surface.]
If you will not yield then you will perish! I will have you pay for your crimes!
[Not waiting for an answer, Vengeance lashes out again with another raw burst of power, advancing on France as he does so.]
oh hell yes. B)crotchrosesAugust 1 2011, 09:45:23 UTC
[France raises his arms immediately, crossed in front of him. He braces himself for the impact, which forces him against the wall, but his stance and arms remain mostly steadfast. The darkness within him and around him solidify further, like heavy outlines inked in the air.]
You are no god! You are no judge, to sentence me to be punished!
[He advances as well, flinging his arms out again. His hair is a mess, hanging down over his face, obscuring the arrogant, snarling expression twisting it.]
You are not Justice! Take your unequal vengeance on me if you must! But you--You are unbalanced, you are as twisted as I! Corrupt, rotting, festering--
You are NOTHING! [This last line he spits with a shout. He tries not to be bitter but sometimes it helps to get it out.]
asfda this thread *A*magerightsAugust 1 2011, 11:39:20 UTC
I am Justice! You have given into your desires, submitted yourself to weakness! You are a weak fool who seeks to fill the emptiness of your soul with the brief affections of others!
[Vengeance strides across the room, seizing Anders' staff and turning to slam it against the floor. The wave of power isn't aimed to harm Francis yet, a warning instead that has the kittens howling in fear from the furthest corner they've backed themselves into.
Then the enraged spirit lunges forward, aiming a few rapid blows at Francis with the clear intent of bringing him down and finishing him.]
and now I realize part of why they're complimentary alsdkjfcrotchrosesAugust 2 2011, 00:15:23 UTC
[They knock him back again, and his arms are up as defense. He isn't a match for the mage and Justice offensively, but he advances forward with a bit of difficulty like a persistent, heavily-grounded marionette.]
You have corrupted your purpose! You would have rivers of innocent blood, not peace! You have given into your anger!
Better desire... Better desire...
Better desire and life than the endless fields of the dead!
[The metallic tone cracks. Holding Justice back is too much. The last line--it rings out in France's own strong voice, though he's still consumed with the dark ink-like aura.]
I would love to talk more about that when you're awake again :|amagerightsAugust 2 2011, 03:26:46 UTC
[The words reach Anders and he fights to try and regain his control, afraid of what Justice will do if he does not. Francis is right, but the spirit is too out of control, too certain of his own righteousness, to listen. He'll sooner kill both Francis and whatever is influencing him. But try as he might, he can't manage to take back his body, only watch in horror as Vengeance strikes again.]
I will have my vengeance! There is no price too great in the search for Justice, be it one life or many!
yessssss *___*crotchrosesAugust 2 2011, 12:09:40 UTC
[This time, France is knocked back into the wall again. Instead of slumping down, he falls forward, flat on the ground, then pulls himself to his hands and knees. A furious growl escapes his throat, but he seems to be struggling with himself and with the dark Spirit that seems to have consumed him.]
You would go so far... to kill someone who would have been a great ally? [He rises again, stumbling.]
[And then, somewhat shockingly, he raises his hands in surrender.]
I promised you my allegiance! Murder of one's allies in anger is evil, not justice!
Would you be like them, the ones that you fight against? Is that the price you're looking for, to exchange one tyranny for another!
[The gesture of surrender does little to stop the irate spirit, the staff lashes out again and Justice draws back in what is intended to be a killing blow, but Anders makes one final, desperate attempt to reclaim his body for himself, the memory of his hands stained with blood motivating him to fight even harder.
A jolt surges through him and he stumbles, clutching his head as Justice fights and loses, leaving only Anders, drained and weakened.]
I couldn't- I almost didn't-- Oh, Francis, I'm sorry! I nearly killed you!
sldkfjs I can't resist doing this, even if it's just in this meme ;3; SORRY FOR THE COPIOUS FRENCHcrotchrosesAugust 2 2011, 14:33:13 UTC
[France is standing, but just barely. The eerie glow in his eyes is flickering in and out with intensity.]
I-- It is still there, Anders. I never thought I would ever use these... Please, stand back.
[France levels his gaze; not at Anders, but right through him, at something intangible, distant. His limbs are hanging, his shoulders are slumped with exhaustion.]
C`est pourquoi les méchants ne résistent pas au jour du jugement, Ni les pécheurs dans l`assemblée des justes...
[Surprisingly enough, words with an eerie glow snake over France's visible skin. He shudders, fighting the screaming presence in his mind and body.]
Car l`Éternel connaît la voie des justes, Et la voie des pécheurs mène à la ruine--!
Pourquoi ce tumulte parmi les nations, ces vaines pensées parmi les peuples?
Pourquoi ce tumulte parmi les nations...
Tu les briseras avec une verge de fer, Tu les briseras comme le vase d`un potier...
[The entire time he speaks, Francis looks as though something is sending him harsh blows. His body jerks violently, and he
( ... )
[Anders draws back a little instinctively, staring at Francis. The effect looks like a sort of magic to him and tingles his skin the same way, but it's unlike any magic he's ever seen. But as soon as the first unseen strike falls, he jerks into action, rushing to Francis' side and taking hold of him.]
I hope you know what you're doing, Francis... [Because he doesn't know what to do other than keep supporting the man and hope this ends before France does.]
HERE HAVE SOME CUTE ;;crotchrosesAugust 3 2011, 00:58:09 UTC
[France slumps against Anders, falling silent. The letters swirling around his feet subside, but they still crawl over his skin. If Anders happens to touch his skin, he won't feel anything peculiar, except a strange, cool sensation close to France's body.]
I was not lying when I said... that I have been thinking of you. I will make advances, but never with such violence. Love should never be forced...
ASDFHAF YESSSmagerightsAugust 3 2011, 02:36:40 UTC
[His arms automatically tighten around the man, supporting him and drawing him closer, as though that will somehow pull him away from those strange letters.]
You weren't in control. I know how that feels far too well. But that's not important, are you... [He eyes the letters doubtfully, unsure if he wishes they'd make sense more than wishing they were just gone.]
[Which is the truth, and he knows Anders knows that. France is trembling in his arms, and this feels so incredibly shameful to him.
The nation steps back, covering his face with a lettered hand.]
Psalms. They are ancient words of praise--they were turned to spells before I came to exist.
[He convulses as though in anger, but his face is covered; it's clear he's still fighting. In a way, Anders has given him a second wind.]
I will banish this spirit! I am France. Sachez que l`Éternel s`est choisi un homme pieux! L`Éternel entend, quand je crie à lui!
The guards die but do not surrender! [His hands and fingers twitch. The demon, spirit, whatever it was--it was fighting for its grip, but losing. Not without cost, however; he drags his trembling fingers down his face, pulling at his skin.
Abruptly, France looks sharply at Anders. His eyes are hardened in resolve; clearer, with the Psalms curling around his features like living, breathing incantations.]I have not spoken them--... not
( ... )
[Francis might have flirted and been difficult to convince to stop at times, but Anders believes he would never go any further than that without reciprocation from his potential partner. But he knows too well how a spirit, a demon, can twist that and turn it into something foul. If these Psalms can work and free the other man of this burden, then Anders hopes for Francis' sake that it works. He'd wish this life on no one.
He tenses up as Francis pulls at his skin, ready to step in and stop him from damaging himself if need be.]
Well it's working, that much is obvious. Is it still... inside you?
/tl;dring forevercrotchrosesAugust 3 2011, 21:17:33 UTC
It is still there, but it will not be for very long.
[France's expression shifts from simply resolute to hardened, determined and arrogant. Stiffening, he summons the last of his strength that he might hurl the darkness out and be rid of it. His shoulders are squared and he stands upright, as if standing before an army; to face something with honor even after having submitted to it.
If ever he has the appearance of a nation embodied, it would be now. His eyes are bright, but ancient and sharply focused.
The hand that extends and brushes Anders' cheek, however, is gentle and kind. With such a contrast, France feels the chasm between human and nation widen as it often does. His hand--his heart--is a bridge, reaching out.
He wishes he didn't feel what he does for Anders. He wishes he did not feel so old. Ah, but without those things he wouldn't be who he is, would he? One should have the freedom to listen to one's heart; and to speak from one's heart, and listen to the hearts of others
( ... )
asdfaf I love this so much rn ;;magerightsAugust 4 2011, 01:40:38 UTC
[He has to admire Francis' strength, his confidence; perhaps if he'd had a measure of that all those years ago, Anders wouldn't have done what he did to Justice and himself
( ... )
It's why Francis' words are so much harder to simply push aside, as is the man himself, and Anders is forced to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from giving too much of an indication how very tempting that offer is.]
I- No, this should not happen. It won't- I can't-
[It's too easy for 'once' to become 'occasionally' to become 'regularly' and then it would only be a matter of time until someone got hurt and he can't allow that.]
Francis, please. You cannot ask this of me. You don't know what may happen.
[Trying to make his intention gentle and clear, Anders' hands move to Francis' shoulders and try to push him back firmly. Enough to hopefully establish a little distance and stop the other man from tempting him with ( ... )
Reply
If you will not yield then you will perish! I will have you pay for your crimes!
[Not waiting for an answer, Vengeance lashes out again with another raw burst of power, advancing on France as he does so.]
Reply
You are no god! You are no judge, to sentence me to be punished!
[He advances as well, flinging his arms out again. His hair is a mess, hanging down over his face, obscuring the arrogant, snarling expression twisting it.]
You are not Justice! Take your unequal vengeance on me if you must! But you--You are unbalanced, you are as twisted as I! Corrupt, rotting, festering--
You are NOTHING! [This last line he spits with a shout. He tries not to be bitter but sometimes it helps to get it out.]
Reply
[Vengeance strides across the room, seizing Anders' staff and turning to slam it against the floor. The wave of power isn't aimed to harm Francis yet, a warning instead that has the kittens howling in fear from the furthest corner they've backed themselves into.
Then the enraged spirit lunges forward, aiming a few rapid blows at Francis with the clear intent of bringing him down and finishing him.]
Reply
You have corrupted your purpose! You would have rivers of innocent blood, not peace! You have given into your anger!
Better desire... Better desire...
Better desire and life than the endless fields of the dead!
[The metallic tone cracks. Holding Justice back is too much. The last line--it rings out in France's own strong voice, though he's still consumed with the dark ink-like aura.]
Reply
I will have my vengeance! There is no price too great in the search for Justice, be it one life or many!
None may stand in my way!
Reply
You would go so far... to kill someone who would have been a great ally? [He rises again, stumbling.]
[And then, somewhat shockingly, he raises his hands in surrender.]
I promised you my allegiance! Murder of one's allies in anger is evil, not justice!
Would you be like them, the ones that you fight against? Is that the price you're looking for, to exchange one tyranny for another!
Reply
A jolt surges through him and he stumbles, clutching his head as Justice fights and loses, leaving only Anders, drained and weakened.]
I couldn't- I almost didn't-- Oh, Francis, I'm sorry! I nearly killed you!
Reply
I-- It is still there, Anders. I never thought I would ever use these... Please, stand back.
[France levels his gaze; not at Anders, but right through him, at something intangible, distant. His limbs are hanging, his shoulders are slumped with exhaustion.]
C`est pourquoi les méchants ne résistent pas au jour du jugement,
Ni les pécheurs dans l`assemblée des justes...
[Surprisingly enough, words with an eerie glow snake over France's visible skin. He shudders, fighting the screaming presence in his mind and body.]
Car l`Éternel connaît la voie des justes,
Et la voie des pécheurs mène à la ruine--!
Pourquoi ce tumulte parmi les nations, ces vaines pensées parmi les peuples?
Pourquoi ce tumulte parmi les nations...
Tu les briseras avec une verge de fer,
Tu les briseras comme le vase d`un potier...
[The entire time he speaks, Francis looks as though something is sending him harsh blows. His body jerks violently, and he ( ... )
Reply
I hope you know what you're doing, Francis... [Because he doesn't know what to do other than keep supporting the man and hope this ends before France does.]
Reply
I was not lying when I said... that I have been thinking of you. I will make advances, but never with such violence. Love should never be forced...
Please forgive me for the hurt I have caused.
Reply
You weren't in control. I know how that feels far too well. But that's not important, are you... [He eyes the letters doubtfully, unsure if he wishes they'd make sense more than wishing they were just gone.]
What are they?
Reply
[Which is the truth, and he knows Anders knows that. France is trembling in his arms, and this feels so incredibly shameful to him.
The nation steps back, covering his face with a lettered hand.]
Psalms. They are ancient words of praise--they were turned to spells before I came to exist.
[He convulses as though in anger, but his face is covered; it's clear he's still fighting. In a way, Anders has given him a second wind.]
I will banish this spirit! I am France. Sachez que l`Éternel s`est choisi un homme pieux! L`Éternel entend, quand je crie à lui!
The guards die but do not surrender! [His hands and fingers twitch. The demon, spirit, whatever it was--it was fighting for its grip, but losing. Not without cost, however; he drags his trembling fingers down his face, pulling at his skin.
Abruptly, France looks sharply at Anders. His eyes are hardened in resolve; clearer, with the Psalms curling around his features like living, breathing incantations.]I have not spoken them--... not ( ... )
Reply
He tenses up as Francis pulls at his skin, ready to step in and stop him from damaging himself if need be.]
Well it's working, that much is obvious. Is it still... inside you?
Reply
[France's expression shifts from simply resolute to hardened, determined and arrogant. Stiffening, he summons the last of his strength that he might hurl the darkness out and be rid of it. His shoulders are squared and he stands upright, as if standing before an army; to face something with honor even after having submitted to it.
If ever he has the appearance of a nation embodied, it would be now. His eyes are bright, but ancient and sharply focused.
The hand that extends and brushes Anders' cheek, however, is gentle and kind. With such a contrast, France feels the chasm between human and nation widen as it often does. His hand--his heart--is a bridge, reaching out.
He wishes he didn't feel what he does for Anders. He wishes he did not feel so old. Ah, but without those things he wouldn't be who he is, would he? One should have the freedom to listen to one's heart; and to speak from one's heart, and listen to the hearts of others ( ... )
Reply
Reply
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