Post by Deleted on Jun 12, 2016 18:19:53 GMT -5
LIVING IN AN AGE THAT CALLS DARKNESS LIGHT, THOUGH THE LANGUAGE IS DEAD.
Francis was currently going over strategy with his men, the commanders currently stationed with their allies close to one of the major cities. He was certainly not used to this dry, hot, sandy climate, so unlike his lovely, cool, green lands. But he wasn’t one to voice anything like that to his own men, so the subtle longings remained in his thoughts. The days were harsh and hot, enough for Francis to occasionally strip his layers whenever they were in the tends discussing maneuvers and strategies. Not enough to be indecent, not that Francis would’ve minded in the least. But he did respect his men enough to not make them feel awkward with his usual habits. Although the days were hot, the nights were surprisingly cool.
Although the French had been fierce fighters, quite strong despite their lackluster historical reputation, they still knew how to enjoy a good night. They were currently cooking their meals and opening bottles of wine. Cheap wine that they had stashed along with their food rations, but wine all the same. Do as the French, and just simply enjoy. He could hear his men outside, talking, probably trying their best to enjoy themselves, to forget the horrors of the week. Food had been brought to him, a rather delectable looking plate of food, considering where they were… Francis would only argue that the French simply knew how to best put together their rations into palatable meals.
Francis, himself, was in his spacious tent, the front portion open for whoever happened to be wandering by. He was a social creature that needed interaction, and that occasionally came with a few various visitors. Francis was still cooling himself from the previously scorching day, tying back his hair, loose, wavy strands falling out of captivity about his face. His shirt was unbuttoned and hanging loose and open. There was only a thin layer of perspiration across his skin, more evident by the slight shine cast by his hanging lanterns. His fingers frequently curled around a wine bottle that he’d opened earlier, drinking straight from the lip of the bottle and enjoying the light warmth trailing through his body.
He currently sat in one of the chairs surrounding a table, littered with maps, notes, and plans. His cot was off to the side where Francis had also laid a couple of papers and he’d been pondering over. He was very close to putting it all away and focusing on enjoying the rest of his evening off, perhaps picking up a bit of fun somewhere, when he felt that indescribable feeling that another nation was nearby, within the vicinity. Francis’s ears perked, and judging by the way that there was no interruption in the flow of the French soldiers and allies enjoying their evening meal, he only assumed that it was a friendly nation. One can never be too sure, though. Francis set the bottle down before getting up from his seat, completely set on doing a bit of investigating.
Although the French had been fierce fighters, quite strong despite their lackluster historical reputation, they still knew how to enjoy a good night. They were currently cooking their meals and opening bottles of wine. Cheap wine that they had stashed along with their food rations, but wine all the same. Do as the French, and just simply enjoy. He could hear his men outside, talking, probably trying their best to enjoy themselves, to forget the horrors of the week. Food had been brought to him, a rather delectable looking plate of food, considering where they were… Francis would only argue that the French simply knew how to best put together their rations into palatable meals.
Francis, himself, was in his spacious tent, the front portion open for whoever happened to be wandering by. He was a social creature that needed interaction, and that occasionally came with a few various visitors. Francis was still cooling himself from the previously scorching day, tying back his hair, loose, wavy strands falling out of captivity about his face. His shirt was unbuttoned and hanging loose and open. There was only a thin layer of perspiration across his skin, more evident by the slight shine cast by his hanging lanterns. His fingers frequently curled around a wine bottle that he’d opened earlier, drinking straight from the lip of the bottle and enjoying the light warmth trailing through his body.
He currently sat in one of the chairs surrounding a table, littered with maps, notes, and plans. His cot was off to the side where Francis had also laid a couple of papers and he’d been pondering over. He was very close to putting it all away and focusing on enjoying the rest of his evening off, perhaps picking up a bit of fun somewhere, when he felt that indescribable feeling that another nation was nearby, within the vicinity. Francis’s ears perked, and judging by the way that there was no interruption in the flow of the French soldiers and allies enjoying their evening meal, he only assumed that it was a friendly nation. One can never be too sure, though. Francis set the bottle down before getting up from his seat, completely set on doing a bit of investigating.
CODED BY ELECTRIC GANGNAM STYLE