ataraxion | [ video ↳ oo1 ]

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[ video ↳ oo1 ]

[ GOOD DAY TRANQUILITY. The screen flickers on to show a rather attractive albeit very naked Frenchman holding up one of the standard issue jumpsuits. ]

All right. Fine, I am obviously far away from home. I cannot feel the strong connection to my people, and the air tastes like metal. That is not my biggest concern. My biggest concern, to whomever put me here, is what am I to do with these? [ He shakes the jumpsuit in his hand, the material flopping over his wrist. ]

I will not wear it. I can not wear it. The colour is agreeable but the general design? It is worse than someone Chine would come up with. [ The jumpsuit is dropped and the video is moved to offer a little decency. At least now, the current inhabitants of the ship can only see him from the ~~extremely hairy~~ chest up. ]

So then, my question is this: is there any material in this place I may use to craft a new outfit? I will not wear clothes until then. [ And then a smile, a brilliant smile, one he's practiced many times and seems to walk the border of charming and creepy. ]

Aaa, and I should introduce myself, to any and all who may be listening: I am France, the country of romance, of love, of desire. I like to go on strike and make food for people! Perhaps if one of you would help me, I could help you in return? [ He doesn't really know how to use technology, so after a bit of fumbling and him jabbing at random things, the video finally ceases. ]

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[OH LOOK WHO IS WEARING HER SHINY DRESS THAT AMERICA ~~stole~~ GOT HER.]

You! [there is a pause, and then her look of surprise is flattened into a scowl, because it's Frantsiya and look who gets more attention than her from Vanya? The nudity bypasses her completely though, as it is commonplace for a man like France.]

You can barely turn on the device; how are you able to help anyone with anything of any use?

[ Eh France could do better. ]

Aaa, yes, me. [ A pleasant smile is offered in return, video shifting a bit to expose just a little more of his glorious naked body. ]

You assume that I wish to help people with technology. Why would I do that? It is useless. No, I intend to help people with clothing, or cooking, or striking! Or perhaps l'amour.

[Eff her life, she can't stand picky people like this. Her voice is laced with firmness.]

Alright. You wanna walk around naked?

No, I want to have fashionable clothes to wear that do not make me look like I am a pauper. I thought that was obvious from what I said.

This isn't a leisure party. Make do with what you have.

When did I imply that it was? I will do nothing of the sort: I am the country of France, if I am not fashionable, then I am nothing at all.

Are you good with fashion and things? I am not sure I believe you! But if you are, then you should help me because I might have a date, but not right now and not soon, but you should help me dress to impress.

Also, pretty weird that you're a country!

[ Oh a cute little boy... ]

Me? Of course I am. Do you know nothing of my country, little one? I am fashion. [ ~~because that attitude isn't going to piss off a certain purple haired member aboard this ship~~ ]

Though, I would love to help you for your date! Who is the lucky girl, or boy? Aaa, whatever it is you like, I do not care! [ A chuckle. ]

Well, I understand why it is so difficult for you humans to comprehend what I am, what we are, though it always is so strange to me. Without us to lead your nations, to exist as the manifestation of your pride, your hope and your will for your country, what would happen? Aaa, the world would fall into disrepair, I am sure. [ JUST... let him live in his little fantasy. He feels safe there. ]

Being a country must be hard. [ that is his only interest in the matter time for fashion ]

She's a girl, but she's kinda an alien girl? But it's not a boy, because I am not a homosexual. I'm not really sure what she likes! But she says she's really fashionable and she says that I'm not. But I think the Ghostbusters suit sort of thing looks really good, and I think she'll be impressed.

How can something be hard if it is all you know? [ Oh dear, this kid has a mouth on him. France stares at the screen skeptically, then offers an amused smile. ]

What an imagination you have! Well, as I am the country of love, I see nothing wrong with falling in love with an alien girl. Or boy, you must not be so close minded! Beauty is beauty, is it not? [ Great, this one has all of the fashion sense of America with all the taste of England. It's going to be a long day. ]

No, no, stop. Please, I beg of you, stop. You cannot impress a beautiful woman with something terrible and tacky. You need something suave, something that will compliment your figure. Perhaps if I had the materials to sketch out a design...

I can ask Rose if she can knit something! She is really good at knitting and I might marry her! She's also super smart, so if you ever need any thinking done, she is the person you should go to, because she is just a Mart of Smart.

So... is this rose the alien girl you speak of, the one you wish to marry? [ He shakes his head. ] Aaa, no, I am fine without the knitting. But thank you for the offer, my friend.

No, Vriska is the alien troll. But she's nice and she said she was very fashionable, so...

I can probably just wear a t-shirt, right? Because I have a cool one with an ultra cool design.

_{[ America is spending his afternoon drawing dicks all over pieces of paper. This is highly relevant to something he's planning, so he keeps telling himself. However, the thick, French accent and familiar vibes of numerous war losses catches his senses and he stops.
He stops everything.

He stops the dickery for you, France.

Quickly, he grabs his communicator and opens it up. Usually he'd encrypt this message, but he's too stoked to think about that time. ]}

_{[ And here we go... ]}

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD, FRENCHIE. WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN MAN. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK YOU THINK YOU AN JUST LIKE I DON'T KNOW APPEAR LIKE THIS ALL LATE AND SHIT.

I knew I smelled garlic and defeat on this ship. I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT.

FRANCE, DUDE. EVERYONE HERE IS BATSHIT. I NEED YOUR SUPPORT. I need your support! However ineffective it may be, I understand it's the thought that counts----!!

----Are you totally naked again?

Edited 2012-01-15 22:53 (UTC)

[ He more or less completely ignored the second part, having found more interesting in playing with his chest hair than listening to America screech about his debt or fattening food or whatever he yells about. ]

[ When he finishes, he glances up at him and smiles, as if he'd been paying close attention all along. ]

Yes, I am. [ AND THE VIDEO DROPS LOWER... and then swoops back up to his face. If your eyeballs haven't bled out of your head yet, Alfred, have a smiling, cheerful France. ] You should join me, little America.

_{[ he screams.
He needs an adult.
An adult that isn't France. ]}

OKAY FRANCE. YOU CAN'T JUST DO THAT. NOBODY NEEDS TO SEE YOUR DICK.
Like nobody EVER. Remember what I told you about showing me your dick? Yeah, we're sticking to that rule.

_{[ .. he never had this discussion with France. ]}

If China were here, he'd be CENSORING YOU ALL OVER, DUDE. But I understand your need for wanting to be free, just not while I'm around, okay? Got it? And I'm NOT LITTLE.

_{[ that's the main reason why he's flustered, really. ]}

--And this is serious business, man. Like mondo serious. What year is it for you? Hungary and Austria are from the 1950's, so they're batshit, and Belarus is Belarus, so she's batshit.
I'm the only sane country here.

_{[ and he's batshit. ]}

Put your dick away and get some clothes on. I want to talk to you in private. Where are you at?

[ America, what don't you seem to understand about the fact France doesn't want to listen to you? He nods along as Alfred speaks, though focuses all of his attention on a particularly interesting spot on the wall. Although he flicks his eyes back to the screen at the last mention of his genetalia, he glances away and smiles again in response. ]

Ah yes, of course, of course. [ It takes a moment for him to register what Alfred just said. When he does, he offers a rather bemused look at the screen. ] that is both absurd and impossible, but I shall entertain the situation with a suspension of disbelief. It is the year 2012, 'Merica. [ The situation has quickly gone from a ridiculous completely insane in a matter of minutes. Luckily, France happens to be a staunch existentialist, and therefore thinks very little of the situation, regardless of what it's impossible implications may be. ] Sure, of course, I will come and talk to you. But I will not put on clothing until I am given fashionable clothing to wear. And no, America, I am not implying that you should attempt to locate any on my behalf, as your tastes are just as questionable as the tastes of England.

Oh--you're going to want Rarity. She's got all kinds of that, um. Clothing-type paraphernalia.

Word of warning about the cat, though. That thing's a monster.

Rarity. Rarity. That is a very interesting name for a woman; I should like to meet her!

Aaa, I am sure that is not true. No kitty is a monster; they are cute little animals that should be appreciated! And groomed and fed and pet and there should be ribbons put on them every day. [ A hand to his cheek as he reflects upon something, a particular instance in his life. One where he might have shaved England's ~~pussy~~ cat to look like a poodle. France thought it looked adorable, but apparently England didn't. And neither did his knuckles. ]

[ ...was France talking to someone? Oh yes! ] So where is it that I may find this... Rarity?

Haha, no, this one's evil incarnate. All...snarly and full of--of claws. Don't say I didn't give you the heads up.

Right, yes. She runs her little operation of her room.

Do not worry about me, sir. I find that cats and myself have a lot in common.

Her room? And how may I locate her room? And for that matter, why is it that I cannot see you? Surely you cannot be so ugly that you do not wish for anyone to see you, yes?

What, are you snarly and evil and full of claws?

[There is a fair bit of GRUMBLING at the request to switch to video, mostly because that is, at least a small part of the reason.]

[but boop there it is I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY, FRANCE]

Uh, on the first deck of the passenger quarters. Don't exactly remember her number, but I'm, um. Eighty-nine, and I do recall her locker being near mine.

Can't miss her, anyway. Purple hair. Very odd.

No, I am cute and covered in hair. [ He moves the video down a bit and hello forest of chest hair and pubic hair. Enjoy the view Wheatley while yor eyes still retain the power of sight. ]

[ When the video on the other end flicks on, France has to stare for a moment before he chuckles. ] Aaaa, see? You are very cute. Thank you for the information, I shall be sure to contact her.

Do you not like cats, sir?

[WOW YEAH that is a lot of hair Wheatley is sort of feeling better about not having that much hair.

But he does offer a sort of incredulous stare.]

If you um, say so.

Also, I've only ever met one cat, and it's the one on the ship, and it doesn't like me.

[Oh hell no. HELL NOOOO. Austria is... looking rather wide-eyed and distressed. And there's something in the air, a bit cloudy, a bit gray and smoky... but you can't see any cigarettes in his hand, so therefore he is safe, yes? But he needs this cigarette right now, so hush.]

You.

Frankreich, at... at least use a blanket, if you insist upon being so arrogant as to refuse a uniform perfectly tailored to you. They are not the most comfortable, but I know that some people on board have been looking to tailor new things so at least have patience until then?

[...Ugh, an appearance-conscious man like him should not have that much hair]

[ Oh hell yes. Hell ouuuuuuuuuuuuuiiiiiiiii. And Austria isn't the only one that needs a cigarette. Maybe an espresso as well. AND SOME CLOTHING. . . ]

Yes, yes, me. Why has this become an acceptable greeting? You. You with such an ominous tone. How long have you been on here, Autriche, where you think you should welcome someone you know with you. The little sister of Russia, aaa, Belarus? She did the same thing. [ Scratching his chin. ] Come to think of it, you both are similar...

[ Flitting his eyes back to the screen, he tilts his head. ] Why would I do tha--wait. A blanket. There are blankets? Where? [ HE CAN TOTALLY CRAFT A SUIT OUT OF A BLANKET. ]

[Rubbing his temples. He always seems to do this when he talks with this man. He doesn't do it all the time, he swears. ~~okay he kind of does~~] I... apologize, I suppose I thought it was no more rude than greeting someone nude, but in all seriousness are you all right? My arrival here was a bit, ah... jarring, to say the least. [Wait. ... Wait. Face tinging pink.] ...How am I like Belarus?

[He frowns.] I would assume on your bed? If you're planning anything funny with it, though, you'll be left with nothing to sleep with. I just meant as a cover-up. I don't suppose you're the type to bother wrapping a towel around your waist after a shower [OH FUCK. OH FUCK THE BATHROOMS ARE COMMUNAL OH FUCK.

He didn't just go pale, ignore him.

shh]

Of course, you of all people mistake intent. I did not wish to greet everyone in such a fashion, but I fear as if I had no choice: I could not wear the clothing provided. But how can I expect someone to understand who still seems to believe that cravats are in fashion? [ Look, he can do low blows all day. ] No, of course I'm not all right. How could I be all right if I have nothing to wear? [ He chuckles. ] You are both obstinate, frigid, and beautiful. This is easy to see, is it not?

Oh, I see. [ He glances behind him, staring over at his bed, and returns this gaze to the small screen. ] So there is a blanket. That will be very useful, thank you. [ Now he's completely distracted, back turned to the screen as he walks over to the bed to examine the blanket. Luckily for you, Austria, he has not noticed the draining of colour. ] Perhaps in return for your help, I shall make you something nice. Perhaps. [ Off-handedly: ] By the way, America seems to think that you are from the 1950s. What an interesting imagination that boy has, no?

I understand your intent perfectly. It does not make the inadvertent results of it any less rude. And I see absolutely nothing wrong with wearing a cravat for more formal events. Casually, yes, of course it would be out of place. But I see nothing wrong with it for formal attire. [Blushing harder.] I look nothing like her. [D-dropping the subject. 8(

Also, he did not need to see that ass. Looking away, tugging at his hair. Is it safe to look back yet? No. ... Still no. ..... No again. He probably shouldn't be checking this frequently...] It... that's true, actually. You may have come across people from different continuums. I'm under the assumption that I'm from the same continuum as the rest of the nations on board, but a different point in time. I am from 1955, to be exact. Hungary is from 1956. Surely the concept of time travel, especially in such a situation as this, waking up on a spaceship and all... isn't terribly hard to grasp.

[ She hasn't even been here a day and she's seeing naked humans. Countries. Things. Luckily, after an initial reaction of looking like this-- ]

[ --she quickly recovers and just. Ignores what she just saw for the sake of her own sanity. ]

I didn't know humans had fur too! Or um, human-countries, however that works!

[ In reference to his chest and beard and. Yeah. SHE LEARNS SOMETHING NEW EVERY DAY. ]

[ KITTY ]

[ IT LOOKS LIKE A KITTY ]

[ HE WANTS IT ]

Aaa, fur? [ He opens his mouth to speak, then glances down, before laughing and shaking his head, pushing a few golden strands behind his ear. ] Yes, I suppose you could call this fur. [ A pause. ] You are grey... perhaps you are friends with that little grey man that Merique keeps around? What was his name, Tony, I think? [ BECAUSE CLEARLY IF YOU ARE GREY, YOU MUST BE RELATED... ]

Hmmmmm, nope! I don't think I've met Mewlrique or Tony yet. Are they trolls too?

Mmm, troll is an appropriate term for him, yes.

Though, America claims that Tony is an alien. Perhaps he may be an alien troll? [ Irony... ]

Purrhaps! Not all aliens are trolls, of course, but I guess the opposite could be true in a less literal sense.

[ guess what Nepeta ]

[ you have succeeded in confusing France ]

[ He blinks, then tilts his head to the side. ] But you are an alien troll?

[ Success! Except not really. She pauses a moment, think of how to best go about this. ]

That's right! It's a little hard to explain across cultural boundaries, especially beclaws I don't know a whole lot about humans. Or human nations. But on my planet, "troll" could be both a noun and a verb. Noun was our species, plain and simple, and the verb could be used in a ton of contexts. Fur example, I'm trolling you right now beclaws I'm a troll and I'm conversing with you!

Humans seem to make it all negative though. When I started talking to them at furrst, they thought I was teasing. I don't really get it.

[All of that, and his only comment?]

Y'don't wear clothes, anyway.

[Flattest tone ever. He's so excited to see you, France. Except not. So not excited, actually, that he's looking for some way to shut off the incoming video feed to this thing. Yeah he kind of fails at that.]

Hello Netherlands! It is so nice to see you! [ hey look, you get a special treat, Netherlands. You get French sarcasm, how rare is that? ]

I do wear clothes, you silly man. Why do you think I am the head of the fashion industry? [ DO NOT BRING UP ITALY... ] I prefer to wear clothes. Just not awful ones that are terrible and unfashionable.

[He switches to video just so he can throw a nasty look France's way. There, that better?]

Not often enough, ya don't.

[You know, like now. He is side-eyeing France so hard.]

Edited 2012-01-23 04:17 (UTC)

Well that is because most of the time I am pursuing love and freedom, and neither of those things can reach their full potential with clothes in the way! [ and now it's time to irritate you, pays-bas. or irritate more, actually... ]

Mentioning love and freedom, how is your lovely sister, Belgium?

[Okay he snorts, part derisive and part in the face of the ridiculousness that is France.] I thought y'were pursuing a new outfit. [HYPOCRITE.]

[Welp his face falls completely at that, just for a split second, before he's looking suspicious and grumpy.] Haven't seen her.

[The "have you?" is definitely implied in that.]

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