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Act II
May 30, 2010 20:09:25 GMT -5
Post by Jimmeh on May 30, 2010 20:09:25 GMT -5
[[ooc: That's the problem with South Park. You shouldn't think it's cute or, true, or even funny, but you do. x3 Romano is awesome. I just rewatched it and you're right. Why else would they look so similar? o:]]
Matthew rested his hand against the wall, having scuttled down the alley a few yards to avoid a few pedestrians who, though not threatening, looked suspicious and had caused him to move out of paranoia. "Not to his father's; I spoke with his man," he replied towards Francis. It had not been an exciting conversation--just a few short complaints about the usual problems with the rival house and his son's failing social life.
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Act II
May 30, 2010 20:44:54 GMT -5
Post by Tiger on May 30, 2010 20:44:54 GMT -5
"Ah," Francis said, raising one eyebrow. He took a moment to wonder what could possibly be gained from a chat with Lord Montague and concluded that it would provide good company for a very lonely person. That idea did not make sense to him because he knew Matthew could not be chronically isolated. Indeed, he always seemed to be in the company of Francis and Arthur. "Torments him so that he will sure run mad."
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Act II
May 30, 2010 20:52:46 GMT -5
Post by Jimmeh on May 30, 2010 20:52:46 GMT -5
"Prussia, the kinsman of old Capulet, hath sent a letter to his fathers house," he added, remembering what his uncle had also mentioned to him. After saying this, he started to wonder vaguely where Arthur was again. With any luck, he didn't stay out late the previous night--it was a recurring habit. Matthew, being his cousin, felt obliged to worry about him--the Englishman was already an insomniac, and a night out on the prowl, doing nothing but wandering the streets and disturbing the general public was no good for him. He didn't want him to follow in Francis's steps--then Matthew truly would be friendless.
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Act II
May 31, 2010 13:53:46 GMT -5
Post by Tiger on May 31, 2010 13:53:46 GMT -5
"A challenge, on my life!" Francis scoffed, crossing his arms indignantly. He noticed a bit of lint on the sleeve of his jacket and tried to brush it off with his fingertips, but it just rolled along the surface of the fabric. Frowning, he uncrossed his arms and plucked the offending bit of fluff from his clothing and dropped it unceremoniously on the ground, where he brought the toe of his shoe down over it. Looking good had always been a major concern for him.
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Act II
May 31, 2010 21:24:21 GMT -5
Post by Jimmeh on May 31, 2010 21:24:21 GMT -5
"England will answer it," he replied towards Francis. His attention was diverted to a polite nod towards a few gentlemen that, while having no connection to other than seeing around Verona, Matthew felt compelled to greet them on their way thanks to their elaborate way of dress and conducting themselves down the path. He disliked staying in the alley because of this; it was almost like a place to gather socially as opposed to a quick way to travel to his own home. Then again, perhaps the Canadian worried about keeping a proper appearance and reputation more than he should have.
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Act II
Jun 2, 2010 18:03:15 GMT -5
Post by Tiger on Jun 2, 2010 18:03:15 GMT -5
Francis rolled his eyes, disdainful although pointing out the obvious. "Any man that can write may answer a letter!" Arthur would be nothing special for reading and replying to whatever message had come his way, and Francis knew that. Despite being friendly with the other man, he could not help but mock him and joke around--often at the others' expense--whenever he felt like it. Respect or lack thereof had never really irked him at any point in his life. Even when he was the victim he could rarely be bothered to lift a finger against the perpetrator.
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Act II
Jun 2, 2010 20:18:00 GMT -5
Post by Jimmeh on Jun 2, 2010 20:18:00 GMT -5
"Nay," Matthew replied, and shook his head lightly. Surely, the message could not be that important, but he was curious nonetheless. It was a rarity he himself received a letter, and if he did, it usually concerned something of little importance, so naturally, he wondered what interesting things could possibly be inside a small message. "Nay," he repeated, "he will answer the letter's master--how he dares, being dared."
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Act II
Jun 4, 2010 12:53:47 GMT -5
Post by Tiger on Jun 4, 2010 12:53:47 GMT -5
Francis shook his head vigorously, frowning in a melodramatic way. "Alas, poor England! He is already dead," he murmured sarcastically, "and is he a man to encounter Prussia?" He interlaced his fingers, stretched out his arms, and lifted them high over his head, stretching and puffing out his chest, vain like a peacock. For a few seconds, he held the stretch and glanced around before relaxing his arms and upper body. A brief moment later and he had released his hands; they now swung carefree at his sides.
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Act II
Jun 4, 2010 13:38:06 GMT -5
Post by Jimmeh on Jun 4, 2010 13:38:06 GMT -5
"Why?" Matthew asked, shifting his position so he faced Francis sideways on the wall and his weight remained planted on one foot, while the other crossed below his ankle. Though it was not the most comfortable position, it worked in that he could turn away from the crowds and make eye contact with him, and avoid being the center of attention to a searching eye. The last thing he wanted was any absorption from a stranger; the alley was treacherous, or at least it was in his mind. "What is Prussia?"
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Act II
Jun 4, 2010 20:02:56 GMT -5
Post by Tiger on Jun 4, 2010 20:02:56 GMT -5
"More than prince of cats, I can tell you," explained Francis, accompanying this speech with a flourishing point of his finger. "O, he is the courageous captain of compliments." This was obvious; Gilbert's most famed characteristic was his narcissism. "He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest--one, two, and the third in your bosom--the very butcher of a silk button, a duelist, a duelist, a gentleman of the very first house, of the first and second cause: ah, the immortal passado! The punto reverso! The hai!" All these fencing terms rolled easily off his tongue, as Spanish was close enough to his mother tongue, his beloved français, for him to speak with a flair comparable to a native's.
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Act II
Jun 5, 2010 16:02:47 GMT -5
Post by Jimmeh on Jun 5, 2010 16:02:47 GMT -5
"...The what?" Matthew, growing restless, recrossed his ankles. Sometimes he wished that more of what Francis said made sense--he would be much more interesting and less annoying of a person if it were so. He knew people--Arthur being the most prevalent example--who cringed when the man entered a room, but truthfully, all it took was a little patience to get used to him; to get used to anyone, for that matter. [/color][/size]
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Act II
Jun 5, 2010 21:35:54 GMT -5
Post by Tiger on Jun 5, 2010 21:35:54 GMT -5
[[ooc: It's kind of odd for France to be dissing Frenchmen in this dialogue. xD]]
"The pox of such antic," continued Francis, completely ignoring Matthew's question, "lisping, affecting fantasticoes, these new tuners of accents! By Jesu, a very good blade! A very tall man! A very good whore!" He chuckled at what he perceived to be his own wit. "Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form that they cannot ease on the old bench? O, their bones, their bones!"
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Act II
Jun 8, 2010 21:01:28 GMT -5
Post by Jimmeh on Jun 8, 2010 21:01:28 GMT -5
Arthur entered the alley behind them, checking over his shoulder to make sure he had not overlooked them on the way there. Though a constant scowl still played across his lips at always, there was more of a lightness in his eyes--though it could not be entirely described as cheerful; it only held different burdens than before. Giving Matthew a wave to get his attention, he had to trot slightly to make his way so he stood within earshot of the two.
"Here comes England, here comes England," the Canadian said, and nudged Francis with his right arm, wondering what had brought him here. To him, Arthur's mood had seemed to have changed somehow between the time he had last seen him--and the time before that, come to think of it.
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Act II
Jun 8, 2010 21:35:15 GMT -5
Post by Tiger on Jun 8, 2010 21:35:15 GMT -5
Francis thrust his left arm into the air and waved it around in a very idiotic manner. "Like a dried herring. Flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in--Monsieur Romeo, bonjour! You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night," he added, wagging his finger in a reprimand. Naturally, he wondered what Arthur had been up to and hoped it would result in an interesting story for him to hear. If his friend had encountered success in romantic endeavors then all the better for him as long as he did not brag about it to Francis. Of course, he'd never be the master of amour like me!
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Act II
Jun 10, 2010 15:36:52 GMT -5
Post by Jimmeh on Jun 10, 2010 15:36:52 GMT -5
"Good morrow to you both," replied Arthur, wincing slightly when he nodded his head towards Francis in recognition of his presence. He had quite a story to tell, he knew that for sure, but the story itself would need to be censored heavily--so what was the use? "What counterfeit did I give you?" he asked instead, deciding to change the topic. The last thing he wanted was a talk from Francis about his...tactics. [/color][/size]
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