✖ 002, S.O.S.

[amant]

[Greetings, Asgard! Your bonafide Bonnefoy seems to be well and situated in Freya by now, which is a good thing. His greeting, however, is mildly er, nonexistent and he sounds almost up to his eyeballs in unsures.] 

I have ah-- [he pauses, looking at something off-screen rather critically; those fine features and MANLY STUBBLE crinkling in distaste as if he just imagined his mother naked and frolicking with Rome... Which he'd had the misfortune of seeing once, actually--] Now, mes amis! I am not a judgmental man. [He just lies like a rug]

Mais-- Well, I could not help but notice the overwhelming amount of English that have been brought as fellow Traveler to Asgard.

[The hidden, or not so hidden message is I am DROWNING in the ENGLISH. Send help. ]

I am just wondering if there is a reason for this favoritism, hm? Why not say-- the French? If they wanted their city to be colorful again my culture is much more familiar with the expression. No offense, hm? Consider it a case of being homesick...

[He smiles, disarmingly, perhaps, fumbling with his pack of cigarettes before flicking the transmission off. WAY TO LITERALLY OFFEND HALF OF ASGARD, FRANCIS.]

Comments

[colonist]

Probably because French is just a bunch of guttural sound? ((TRIES to say something in French, but it ends up just being more English: Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries!))

[amant]

If you want guttural, speak with an angry German...

[Oh, darling... you still are in the stage of being daddy's boy, aren't you?]

Oh stop that! You are just MUTTERING.

[colonist]

((ignores the latter statement. His French is awesome--and he only knows elaborate insults.)) I haven't heard a lot of German. What's it sound like?

[amant]

Angry. It is not a very soothing language at all.

[Sorry, Germany. It's just the truth and this opinion IS coming from a snob like France.]

[colonist]

Yea, but you think English is bad. You have no taste. ((matter -of-fact.))

[amant]

It is not bad in as much as just not up to par with my own. [ALSO matter-of-fact]

[colonist]

Yea! That's because we're below par, ha-ha!!

[amant]

A-- [smirk; shrug-- Oh America. You are precious.]

It seems like you are convinced. I could never denounce such enthusiasm, mon petit.

[colonist]

I'll petit your mon.

[amant]

... [blink; pursing his lips]

Oh? Care to explain how you would go about that?

[colonist]

GLORIOUSLY!

[amant]

[Just this face. Seriously. JUST. THIS. FACE. America, you don't even understand. You don't. Gloriously does not happen. Ever. He would know.]

[colonist]

((wow. Tre La Lame. Oh well, It just means he won since France isn't saying anything. He's bi-winning.))

[amant]

[ Get over here so Fran can bend you over his knee like the good old days, asshole. No. Really. Referencing Charlie Sheen is bad for everybody involved. Leaning forward, he sighed.]

I like you, Alfred. I do. You can be such a brat at times though; it really is unfortunate...

[colonist]

Oh. You think I'm a brat?

[amant]

Believe me. There are things far worse than that- [pursing his lips before frowning. Now, know that he's being genuine, Al when he says this,] None of which I will ever er, call you, hm?

[He'll say plenty but there's worse. There's always worse.]

So, enjoy being affectionately regarded to as a brat...!

[if you were here he'd awkwardly pat your head like he does Monaco--as it is, and you lucked out for sure, he's constricted to giving the boy a teasing smile. Good pep talk, boys.]

1/2

[colonist]

Oh.

((give it a moment.))

[colonist]

HAHA! Victory again. ((AGAIN. Bi-winning. Even though he just likes to PRETEND he wins all the time. On 1812...))