#splendidanatolia

He didn’t budge or follow, simply turned a mite to watch Francis. This one, he thought, would give some of the saucy ladies at court a run for their money, with that coquettish, inviting look, and those thick golden tresses.

He chuckled a little.

“First, I think no one could ever mistake you for anything but French. Second, I think if you wanted to stay cool, you’d have gone north.” A grin flashed across his face. “The weather turns hot on a dime here.” He moved over to the plush cushions established by one of the windows, and cast himself down. “But, if the heat is too much for you, we can have a break. Do you want something to drink? Tea? Coffee? A smoke?”

Francis wasn’t “too hot”, of that, he was sure. If Sadik was reading him right, he was enjoying the game just as much, if not more. No, he suspected the heat was just to France’s liking.

Part of him wishes the other would follow, but it didn’t kill his fun. His back is turned, facing off to the side before he spins around and slowly moves back over to the older, his steps silent as he goes, “You are right--- I prefer when things get a little heated...” He muses, making himself a spot on the cushions next to Sadik. He certainly knew how to make himself at home, after all.

Platonic Touch47. Putting jewelry on mine

      The sudden presence surprised him, but he was getting used to being in anothers company for extended periods of time--- people besides his royal family, of course. In fact, he had been getting used to being in the others empire in general. It was a lovely place to stay after all--- he could really grow to like this alliance, for many reasons.

      The feeling of something cold around his collar pulled the blonde back into attention, his first reaction was to bring a hand up to whatever cool material was placed against him as he turns his head to find out who snuck up on him. Ah, yes. It was just Sadik. A somewhat playful smile crosses the youngers face, his fingers dancing along the jewelry that was placed against him, a brow raising in question.

      “What is this?” He questioned softly, finally tilting his head a bit to try and look at the object, a short, breathy laugh leaving him for just a moment. “Is something special going on? Must I dress up? Or are you just... Adorning me with gifts?” As he felt he should, after all. “It is quite lovely...”

The first thing that alerted him to the fact that something was different than usual was the smell of perfume. Obviously it wasn’t his, and he didn’t often wake to the smell of flowers like that in his nose, which meant he wasn’t alone. He was, however, dealing with an aching head, so momentarily chose to bury his head under his pillow rather than open his eyes and figure out what was going on.

What had happened last night? Someone had thrown a party, right? He remembered that. A birthday party? They’d all gotten together for it. But he didn’t drink. Had they smoked?  The party had been at a bar, hadn’t it? Oh, why did they always have to be at a bar?

He groaned, rolling his exposed shoulders. He was getting too old for bullshit like this. When he saw fit to drag himself out from under his pillow, he might pay more attention to that first observation.

She was aching, limbs welded into place and eyelids drooping, Anneliese terribly hesitant to move herself from her current position. As far as she could tell, she was wearing portions of what she’d worn last night, a blouse and camisole, soft against her skin? Was her bra on? Maybe. That could be figured out in a bit, when she had it in her to pry her eyes open. 

There had definitely been a bit of alcohol flowing in her direction, though it didn’t come up as more than a few glasses of wine. Maybe she’d gotten excited and tried dancing more than she really should have? No use trying to figure that out either, not when the sound of someone else making noise was making her stir.

Head a mass of curls, she pushed her bangs from her face, finding the attempt to be a bit useless as she glanced over to the individual next to her. That was not the shape of someone she normally woke up next to.

“Is that supposed to be comforting, or are you just stating the blatantly fucking obvious?” The treaties had all been signed, but Sadik couldn’t be resigned to the peace of his empty room, no. Barricading himself inside would only lend to his crippled image, and he sure wasn’t going to pass a smoke around with the assholes who had won the war, which left him with a battered Germany, a bitter Austria and an angry Prussia. The two brothers had vanished, likely to drown their sorrows in alcohol, and Hungary had fucked right off, which meant Sadik’s only company was his once-enemy, with whom he was none too pleased.

“Do you want to give me some more poetry and self-observation?” Sadik asked in a biting tone. “Or have you exhausted yourself with that effort?”

To say Roderich was bitter was an understatement. He was beyond frustrated, racked with guilt and regret, making him almost numb to the physical pains in his body. He almost hadn’t even gone to this meeting, not just because he didn’t want to, but because of how weak he was. It had been a process getting him out of bed and into a wheelchair that morning, he’d put up quite a fuss. But his presence was apparently deemed mandatory, despite his various injuries and illnesses. Needless to say, he was exhausted, and Sadik’s quips weren’t helping him any.

@splendidanatolia

Is there any point in mentioning it is mostly used derogatorily? For once, Herakles thinks not, having a low amount of energy to devote to him today and considering how obnoxious the other can be (as tempting as it is to take every opportunity he possibly can to mock the Turk).

Sadik’s lip curled, and beneath his mask, his eyes glinted in the light that filtered through the high windows. Egypt retained some fine palaces in Cairo, and it wouldn’t suit either Sadik or Aurelie to meet anywhere else.

“Isn’t that true.” Once upon a time, he had awed France and the Occidental world with his wealth and power, the terrible force of his might, the frightening breadth of his academia. Once, Aurelie had thought him invincible (or something close enough). But now, they were done with him, ready to scrape him out of the world like something sticky off a shoe—and this was France’s way of telling him so. They were going to take Egypt from him, and he would never forgive them if they did (or so he told himself, and them).  

He paced closer, agitated energy humming through every inch of him. When Sadik’s blood was up, his energy was impossible to quell, and its well had no end. He seemed to vibrate like he contained too much energy for a body to hold.

“I liked you better as a little girl,” he said in a lower voice. “You caused less trouble.”

      “Oh believe me, I liked you much better then as well.”

It broke her heart to see him like this. To see the empire she had admired and loved so close to the brink of extinction---and to do it by her own hand. Well, she wasn’t sure if that was cowardly thing to do or the admirable thing. 

Through the years their own empire had grown and their militia was only getting stronger every year. She knew this, and so despite his frantic pacing she sat in her seat calm as could be. Her form of war was much less aggressive than that of her brothers so she wore one of her best dresses and sipped from her cup of tea, refusing to look at him. He expressed the same behavioral problems of those animals in the menagerie at home. A sad, pathetic sight if she were honest with herself.

“My guards will alert my brother if anything is to happen to me, and if I don’t return he’ll assume the same. Aren’t you tired of this life? Wouldn’t you rather surrender yourself to us?”

 cont. from x.

Make sure you leave a generous offering on your way out. You usually do.

[HIDEOUSLY PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE MODE: ACTIVATED.]