[It had been rather overcast since he'd arrived a few days ago, equally foggy and confused. Strange, how weather was the only familiar aspect this place had with home. At first, France had been too shocked to take his apparent relocation as anything more than a fever dream to which he'd sworn off choosing de Sade as a bit of 'light reading'. Orientation introduced an equally perplexed group of individuals that seemed to be having the same fever dream. Some had been given the golden ticket to high society. Then, there were others that had to suffer public transportation and communal living.
France had not been whisked away by a limo, and quite frankly he was a very chatty roommate. Things were horribly amiss, and he was missing more than just his extensive wardrobe back home. He'd grabbed a notepad and pen from the common area of the apartments he'd be temporarily staying in and begun a running commentary on his 'ambassadorship'. The train ride meant to be an additional introduction to their new 'home' had been a good opportunity to have some time to document his thoughts while observing citizens of this bizarre city.
Honestly he'd been focused on the kneeling submissive near the door for a moment longer than polite, whatever tangent he'd been writing on unfinished while he mulled over his general situation.]
You know, I have colleagues that would read my notes and criticize me for indulging in scandalous novels. [Again. There's definitely something in his expression that could easily lead anyone to believe he's guilty of writing illicit novels out of sheer boredom and anonymously sending them to his friends. Maybe it's the laugh? Probably.] That's an idea. Surely this place needs more literature focused on such things? Could be fun, right?
A Waist of Leeways [ Room B screams his fancy aesthetic. SFW, NSFW. It can of course, go both ways. ]
[At first, he'd been pleasantly surprised by the room he'd been taken to. After all, he'd merely been exploring when he'd boarded the elevator; no particular agenda beyond a little bit of wandering. The room itself made him pine for his own home, with its inlays and fancy adornments that made perfect sense for an old fart like himself.
He hadn't even paid the other passenger much mind when he'd boarded, but there wasn't much choice when he heard shuffling and a distinct click of a lock behind him. Just as he'd been appreciating the mantle of all things. A thin brow rose slightly when he turned back, giving them a mildly suspicious look.]
Where did those other guys go? If they were trying to be hospitable they certainly have a strange way of showing it!
[Some people act alarmed when they're locked in a room alone with a stranger in a strange land. France seems inconvenienced.]
The Key to Hearts
[France was by nature a social being, which made the decision to step out to attend the fundraiser for homeless children (submissive or not) an easy one. He had gotten ready under the pretense that this was solely for the children and not an effort to partake in dancing and free food. With the reputation he had back home, he was finding it difficult to adjust to one particular aspect of being a submissive over the rest; the food was horrible. He'd never admit to it, but even he couldn't make do with what was being offered.
He's on his third glass of whatever was being offered by the waitstaff and feeling more at ease than he probably should, granted.]
Wild Card
Something you want to do with this dork? Please do. I can be reached through PM if you want to ask anything in specific.
France | Hetalia | Submissive
[It had been rather overcast since he'd arrived a few days ago, equally foggy and confused. Strange, how weather was the only familiar aspect this place had with home. At first, France had been too shocked to take his apparent relocation as anything more than a fever dream to which he'd sworn off choosing de Sade as a bit of 'light reading'. Orientation introduced an equally perplexed group of individuals that seemed to be having the same fever dream. Some had been given the golden ticket to high society. Then, there were others that had to suffer public transportation and communal living.
France had not been whisked away by a limo, and quite frankly he was a very chatty roommate. Things were horribly amiss, and he was missing more than just his extensive wardrobe back home. He'd grabbed a notepad and pen from the common area of the apartments he'd be temporarily staying in and begun a running commentary on his 'ambassadorship'. The train ride meant to be an additional introduction to their new 'home' had been a good opportunity to have some time to document his thoughts while observing citizens of this bizarre city.
Honestly he'd been focused on the kneeling submissive near the door for a moment longer than polite, whatever tangent he'd been writing on unfinished while he mulled over his general situation.]
You know, I have colleagues that would read my notes and criticize me for indulging in scandalous novels. [Again. There's definitely something in his expression that could easily lead anyone to believe he's guilty of writing illicit novels out of sheer boredom and anonymously sending them to his friends. Maybe it's the laugh? Probably.] That's an idea. Surely this place needs more literature focused on such things? Could be fun, right?
A Waist of Leeways [ Room B screams his fancy aesthetic. SFW, NSFW. It can of course, go both ways. ]
[At first, he'd been pleasantly surprised by the room he'd been taken to. After all, he'd merely been exploring when he'd boarded the elevator; no particular agenda beyond a little bit of wandering. The room itself made him pine for his own home, with its inlays and fancy adornments that made perfect sense for an old fart like himself.
He hadn't even paid the other passenger much mind when he'd boarded, but there wasn't much choice when he heard shuffling and a distinct click of a lock behind him. Just as he'd been appreciating the mantle of all things. A thin brow rose slightly when he turned back, giving them a mildly suspicious look.]
Where did those other guys go? If they were trying to be hospitable they certainly have a strange way of showing it!
[Some people act alarmed when they're locked in a room alone with a stranger in a strange land. France seems inconvenienced.]
The Key to Hearts
[France was by nature a social being, which made the decision to step out to attend the fundraiser for homeless children (submissive or not) an easy one. He had gotten ready under the pretense that this was solely for the children and not an effort to partake in dancing and free food. With the reputation he had back home, he was finding it difficult to adjust to one particular aspect of being a submissive over the rest; the food was horrible. He'd never admit to it, but even he couldn't make do with what was being offered.
He's on his third glass of whatever was being offered by the waitstaff and feeling more at ease than he probably should, granted.]
Wild Card
Something you want to do with this dork? Please do. I can be reached through PM if you want to ask anything in specific.