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@mrxkirkland
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@mrxkirkland
It was a gloomy day in London -as per usual- and the weather affected Francisâ mood more than he cared to admit. He had already gone through more than half of his dayâs supply of Gauloises, and it was only one in the afternoon. The Frenchman coughed after a rough inhale of his second last cigarette, as he was basically smoking the filter at this point. After his fit, he fumbles through his pocket to find his phone and his pack. He takes off his gloves and dials Arthurâs number with frozen fingers, and then lights his last cigarette with the butt of his old one.Â
He was in London for a meeting, and of course, he would make a point to see Arthur. Or at least contact him. He figured that the other would be offended if he didnât, even though he would never admit to it. Â Heâs currently waiting for a bus, coincidentally to the otherâs house, and he takes an inhale as he waits for the other to pick up his phone.
âArthur? You will never guess where I am right now.â He pauses. âWell, okay, do not guess. I am in your trashy city, and I am on my way to your place- are you home?â He says this in a light tone, a slight smile on his face. âI am freezing and I would like a coffee waiting for me.â
Arthur is roused from his spontaneous nap by shrill ringing piercing through the house. He finds himself grunting, shifting his face from beneath the book, and groggily reaches for the phone. âWot?â He pulls it to his ear and winces as accent fills it. It takes him, well, not very long to realise who it is. âBloody âell.â He mumbles to himself, rubbing at his face in a bid to wake himself up. He yawns. âThere is such a thing as calling in advance, Frog.â
At Francisâ request, heâs already pulling himself to sitting properly. âWould you, now,â he mutters. Arthur knows that the kettle will at least be boiling by the time Francis arrives.Â
âFine, whatever. Youâre already on your way, no point stopping you now.â
He hangs up, and blearily looks at the time. Heâd been asleep for over an hour. Woops.Â
â Does somebody need a hug? â
ââŹâŹŕš â ŕšâŹâŹâ
âIâm afraid youâll judge me if I answer honestly.â
âCome on, now. Youâre worse than me.â
      with an air of coldness blue eyes take in everything around. the rosesâ left in            a golden vase had gone frail and dark in these two months heâs been away.            thereâs a thick layer of dust that covers the fine rococo furniture, a sign that            the house hasnât been inhabited in a long time. the smellâ itâs dust and old,            books, the only comfort françois feels for returning âhomeâ.                                  setting the bag of groceries down, he sighs and stretches.
            â please excuse the mess. do you want a cup of coffee? â
Arthur looks around the building with some nonchalance. A prude, honed habit himself initially wants to wrinkle his nose at the dust and the lack of cleanliness in the room, but if he did heâd be hypocritical. He knows what itâs like to disappear for months on end. And what life looks like when you leave it as it is. With a sigh, trying not to stir the dust up too much, he moves to crumple the rose between his fingers, both for the sensation and the attempt of helping. At the question, he turns with a half hearted glare. âTea, please. And Iâm surprised you didnât hire a maid.â
scottishdrunk;;
âPlease, refrain from your compliments. I simply canât take the generosity.â

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&& mrxkirkland
âStay silent, & perhaps they will spare you.â
Arthur rolls his eyes, and hisses. âWhat the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?â
{A few hours later}
[Text]: I actually canât remember [Text]: And thatâs most likely because Alfred stole my phone as we were drinking. [Text]: But if you wish to take me up on itâŚ
[text] Oh, so it was your influence. [text] Absolutely not. Iâd rather shove that mirror up there myself rather than have you touch me. [text] [text] . Why were you drinking with Alfred?
[Text] Is there a mirror in your pocket? [Text] Because I can really seen myself in your pants.Â
[text]: ... [text]: You know what happened last time you sent me one of these. [text]: Also, really? This is the sort of stuff Alfred would come up with.
Like for a starter.
whoa iâm alive

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VE Day || Drabble
(Today is the 70th anniversary of Victory in Europe day, for those who donât know. Hereâs just a small tribute.)
They are sat around the rather regal table. There is a calm silence despite the cheers and singing that echoes from the streets outside. Churchill looks to an empty seat, raising an eyebrow to the monarch.
"Is he not joining us for lunch?"
George shakes his head, swallowing. There's a slight smile on his expression. "No. You know what he's like." He looks out of the window, towards where the crowds are surging.
"Anyway, I feel that today really belongs to him."
headcanon that arthur absolutely dotes on queen liz. (applicable to a lot of his monarchy) heâs been around her her whole life - from helping her to walk as a baby to seeing her married to seeing her crowned queen - say or do anything bad towards her and youâll have arthur to deal with.
devastated would be an understatement the day she dies.
a new member;; prussiathegreat
âHeh, those were the good olâ days, huh?â
Gilbert tried very hard not to sound too sardonic as Arthur brought up memories of the Second World War. For all his fame as the âWarrior stateâ, that particular battle was definitely not one of Gilbertâs favorites.  Red eyes follow the blonde as he walked in before following right after,
âYeah. Not really a raid or anything, but scouting out the area with the new recruits - Getting a feel for it, knowing the quickest routes and shortcuts to go through, where guards are the thickest - Stuff like that,â
He shrugged. Having lived on these streets for months before he was found by Gerhart and Lyov, the Prussian already knew the place like the back of his hand. He blinked at the question thrown at him, running a quick calculation in his mind.
âErmm⌠Iâd say about just a bit shy of 6 months?â Gilbert said, emerging out of the alley onto a new street, âMe and the other two founders, Frederick - Heâs the one you heard talking to the guys back there, and Lyov - You havenât met him, but you will later - Weâre all escapees from one of the gulags around here. We know first hand what kind of fucked up shit goes on inside that prison,â
He almost growled, eyes narrowing, âSo thatâs one of our main goals - Trying to free other poor people from that hell - Giving them the help they need, helping them stay off the grid until we find a way to get them out of this city and into any other country thatâs got to be safer than here,â
Arthur watches Gilbert during his explanation, before ducking his head in as he headed back towards the headquarters. He sounds a small âHmm.â In response to the Prussianâs aims, before his expression softens at his heart. He canât help but roll his eyes at himself, though. âNo wonder it was so easy for you to grab me. I commend you on your security.â He pulls his hood down, looking aound again. âWell, I suppose if you want to reach to gulag and free the prisoners - I can certainly help with intelligence on that. Iâm not sure what more I can do that you havenât already accomplished, though...â The incredulity of what heâsd come and down is starting to hit him. For pete sakeâs, heâs neutral. He shouldnât even be here. What if he got caught? What then?â He shakes his head, passing his sudden nerves off. He throws a question at Gilbert. â... Do you know the whereabouts of Ivan?â Who knows what this is doing to him.
a new member;; prussiathegreat
âWell, when you go back, if Cameron decides to give you hell for leaving just like that, let me know and Iâll vouch for the fact that you were doing something worthwhile - Not just visiting a corpse.â
Gilbert let out a little laugh at his own morbid joke, opening the door that lead to the outside again. The cool night air hit his face as he stepped out, pulling the hood over his head again to conceal his silver hair.Â
âHere, while theyâre having a debriefing in there, I should show you the route we take to get to the base safely - In case you should ever need it.â The Prussian lead his friend to the empty back road, listening to him speak as he shoved his own hands into his pockets to keep them warm.Â
âThatâs okay,â he brushed off the Britonâs apology with a smile, âI didnât expect that you would be able to stay here permanently anyway. You have your own people to take care of, after all. What matters to me is that youâre trying to help in some way. Iâll take anything youâve got to offer while youâre here,â
And the words were truly sincere as he flashed him another smile, stopping in front of a dark alleyway. Despite Arthurâs neutral stance on the war, the fact that he risked his life to come all the way to Moscow to find him was enough to ward almost every bit of bitterness away from the Prussianâs heart.
âWell,â he started, gesturing into the alley, âThis is one of the safest ways to reach the base. The best part is, this leads to more winding alleys so even if youâre being pursued by soldiers - They almost never make it past the 3rd turn,â a mocking scoff,Â
âOnce you get to the 4th and finally the 5th alleys though, youâre in the clear and you just walk down the path we took to get to the building!â
Arthur is mostly quiet as the Prussian explains the different routes and escapes, mentally noting them for a later point, no doubt. Arthur had a tendency to run into trouble like this. He gives a snort. âI remember there being a time when I was memorising similar things to run away from you or Ludwig.â He remarks, turning back to the Prussian. âIf they were just debriefing, Iâm assuming you had just been on a run somewhere?â He starts to head down the alley, memorising it for himself. He turns to look back. â... How long have you been running this? Iâm not certain what I can offer until I know what your current aims are.â
.
i wanna join the skype group but it seems no oneâs around

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One miscalculation- and suddenly bullets stuck in his shoulder. For once Francis was the one who needed medical help. If he healed before the bullets could be removed itâd be even more of a pain to get them out. âTch-â Looking around for the nearest ally, he did his very best not to panic.
He hated the Western Front. Every sodding memory of the last 100 years spent in trenches and hiding in bushes or hedges or trees, gun clutched to his chest as water seeped through tattered boots. He hated it. Heâs stuck out here, again, and he hates it. He glances us in the moment he sees Francis step out from behind a small hill and he drops. When he refuses to stand is when Arthurâs chest drops. Peering over the edge of his own hole, Arthur scrabbles to the top and hurriedly crawls his way across. He grabs the Frenchman. âBloody idiot--â He mutters, panting as he starts dragging the male back to his own hole. It wasnât that long since Arthur was the cause of Francisâ wounds. He throws them both to the ground as firearms rattle above them, hand starting to stain from Francisâ blood as he attempts to stem the wound. â--- What were you thinking?--â
[ Bold which is most applicable to your muse between the two options! ]
Cold OR Hot
Envy OR Lust
Blunt OR Tactful
Dreamer OR Realist
Impulsive OR Planner
Stubborn OR Flexible
Sociable OR Isolated
Lazy OR Hard-working
Half empty OR Half full
High energy OR Low energy
Dependent OR Independent
Eloquent OR Rough around the edgesÂ
Sees what they want OR Sees what is there
Dwells on the past OR Looks towards the futureÂ