Repaid with Innocence [America]

[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 80px; color: #4d4d4d;height: 100px;-webkit-transform: rotate(-90deg);-o-transform:rotate(-90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(-90deg); float:left;margin: 70px -70px 70px -70px;]LOVES,[/style][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 100px; color#4d4d4d;width: 400px;margin-left: 90px;color: #373737;]LOST[/style][STYLE=float:right; border: 3px solid #4d4d4d; height: 100px; width: 100px;margin-top: -120px; margin-right: 10px;][/style][STYLE=text-align:justify;font-size: 10px;padding: 0px 10px 5px 80px;]Times of complete peace were virtually nonexistent in Europe. Even so, during this year of 1786, France was as close as he could ever remember to being satisfied. He had contributed to the removal of something precious from England—his favorite colony (of course, not economically, England had plenty of those left in the world, but personally.) He had loved the boy… and probably still did. France knew love when he saw it—and the Frenchman never thought that he would ever see it in the ever-irritable Arthur of all people. Anyone who didn’t know England well probably wouldn’t have noticed how deeply he felt for the boy. Of course everyone else in Europe reaped the “benefits” of his loss; Arthur was more irritable these days, crueler, bent on acquiring a higher standing in the world in a way that he never had before. But France knew him better than most, in spite of their constant squabbles. The man was simply grieving and angry. And the only way that he really knew of how to deal with it was to lash out at the rest of the world for his personal loss. England would prosper without its colony—Arthur, on the other hand, was a bit different. France’s move to help America had been mostly a strategic move: he wanted to limit England’s growing power, and a small part of him had also wanted to get back at England for past grievances. This—this... what he was planning tonight... what was going to happen... was to spite the island nation even further. Francis had personally been negotiating the debts incurred during America’s Revolution and he was sure that he had found a way that would satisfy the needs of both parties. The Americans wanted to somehow pay ahead of schedule and Francis had his own agenda to satisfy. It took a while, going back and forth with their slow letters until they had reached an agreement. Francis had been in contact with Alfred’s Secretary of State, Thomas Pickering, currently serving a fresh term. He had written: “In the year 1786, the whole of our debt to France was discharged, by anticipating the payment of eleven million and a half of livres, no part of which would have become due until the 2d of September, 1796, and then only one million and a half; the residue at subsequent periods; the last not until the year 1802.” Of course what Mr. Pickering had left out was what Alfred was personally going to pay Francis with. France’s demand had been short and concise. He agreed to the early and lessened repayment for what he considered a small price: America. More specifically, he wanted one night with him. Of course, it should not come as a total surprise, but knowing the boy and how young and inexperienced he was, he might be unaware of this practice as being somewhat common among the Old World nations. France had always been openly affectionate towards America, though if America had dismissed them as simply harmless flirtations was entirely possible, as Francis did tend to act that way with everyone else. But, yes, Francis would admit that there was some attraction, and even lust on his part. Of course, Francis being Francis, he saw no shame in that. France was currently in his private chambers, more specifically a drawing room adjourning his bedchambers, waiting patiently for America, who was to be guided to where he needed to be by Francis’s officials upon his arrival. In the meantime, he was pouring over letters, and inking in documents. Might as well fill in the extra time with things that needed his attention. Off the side, hidden under official documents, he had already started a letter that he would later send to Arthur. There was a large blank space toward the bottom ready to be filled in with lovely details. Of course, if England would even read it at all once he noticed France’s seal was anyone’s guess, but at least Francis would have the satisfaction of sending his little piece of gloating to his roguish neighbor. Francis was wearing his usual exotic fashion, though it was a bit more subdued (at least for him) for the evening. His pale blue jacket was trimmed in silver, off-white fabric spilled slightly from the cuffs of his sleeves as well at his throat. A glinting sapphire was pinned to the cravat at his neck. Quite modest, if he did say so himself. On the table alongside the sofas was an assortment of sweets made from cream, custards, and fruit that he hoped would be to the American’s taste. Such things weren’t entirely common, but were common enough in the French court, so why not for their nation? He was also careful to set out wine for his soon to be guest, hopefully to help quell any lingering nerves for their arrangement. Of course there were preconceived notions of him being nothing but an over-sexualized brute by other nations. However; to the contrary, France normally was good and oftentimes overindulgent to his liaisons and wanted them to be comfortable throughout the arrangement. Especially when it was their first. France prided himself in doing it right. Making love, to him, was an art and should be respected, not brutilized. France penned in another signature on another document as he thought the situation through. Yes... he would take this evening slow—or whatever pace was easiest for Alfred. He would be his first and he would do it well.[/style] [STYLE=margin-left: 80px; background-color: #4d4d4d; color: #b1b1b1; font-size:10px;padding:3px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]NOTES: hurr we go. TAGGED: America TIME & PLACE: France 1786 [/style][STYLE=margin-left: 80px; font-size:13px;font-family: arial narrow;padding:0px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]template by pianissimo of BTN[/style]

Side note: I know we already discussed this, but I wanted to add that there are some inconsistencies with the date of 1786 and when the actual war debts were paid in 1795, but I changed it to match our plot better. It might be better not to start this in the midst of the French Rev. >->

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=valign,top][STYLE=width: 100px; border: 5px solid #242424; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]801[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424;padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]France[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]Agreed on that matter. =P[/style][STYLE=padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #999999; text-align: center;]BY PEBBLE OF BTN[/style]

[atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=style, width: 310px; height: 400px; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px; border-top: 5px solid #242424; border-bottom: 5px solid #242424; border-left: 2px dotted #242424; border-right: 2px dotted #242424;][STYLE=width: 300px; background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; color: #242424; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]This whole 'nation' thing was a lot more complicated than Alfred originally thought. He was doing his best to take it in stride. The Articles of Confederation were not working out as well as Alfred and his officials hoped, and it was starting to look more and more like actions would need to be taken to fix the current situation. No one as of yet realized that said articles would have to be completely scrapped and replaced with a new Constitution entirely, but the seeds were being sown. Alfred was feeling the effects. He was more frazzled than usual, and prone to mood swings. That being said, he was doing his best to keep it together. The last thing he wanted was to go running back to England as a failure. ...no, that would never happen. He'd just as soon die before he did that. This...ahem, meeting with France would serve as a nice change of scenery. The circumstances of the meeting were discussed prior to even setting sail - Repayment to the French for their aid during the Revolution. It was something Alfred failed to even consider until it was brought to his attention by Pickering. Of course Francis would want to be paid back. What caught Alfred off guard was the clause that did not concern money. The sum was reasonable, though slightly discounted, so long as Alfred kept up his end of the deal. That particular end of the deal? Alfred himself. At first, Alfred did not understand what Francis could possibly want with him. Alfred had no problems discussing matters on his own, but usually the hard negotiations were left to the diplomats, while the nations themselves had their own form of diplomacy. Their own form of diplomacy. That was when it sunk in. France wanted him. He was France's for one night, for France to do whatever he wanted with him. Alfred struggled with this at first. Just three years prior he'd ended a romance with a human girl back in the colo-no, the states. They weren't colonies anymore. He wasn't a colony anymore. He was a nation, and he'd already gone through various rights of passage as a result. Why not this one as well? It was a small price to pay for the help that Francis gave during the Revolution, and who knew, perhaps he might enjoy it. If he had to be honest with himself, he was more nervous that his utter lack of experience on said front (other than kissing) would embarrass him in front of the Frenchman. He wanted to look good, after all! He still couldn't help but feel awfully young. It wasn't always this way. Gaining his independence and first being recognized by other nations made him feel grown. Then came the realization that he didn't know what the hell he was doing. Meeting up with other nations, he was dealing with men who had diplomatic experience going back centuries. What did he have? He'd declared independence ten years before. Before that, every decision on an international front was made for him. This realization brought on another. He became annoyed at his reflection in the mirror, the baby face that stared back at him. Granted, he looked much older now than he had as a colony, but he hadn't failed to notice how young he looked compared to all of the other nations. He'd peg most of their physical appearances at around 20 or older, but his own? He didn't look any older than 16, and a rather scraggly 16-year-old at that. Yes, this Articles of Confederation mess definitely needed to be worked out. Maybe he'd bring that up when he returned back home. Upon his arrival, Alfred was directed to Francis' private chambers. He stood outside the door, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to calm his nerves. He had no intent on going into the room, or even greeting France until he'd calmed himself sufficiently. The last thing he wanted was for France, or any nation for that matter, to see him for what he was - An insecure young nation unsure if he would even make it through the next decade at the rate things were going with the Articles. No, he wanted them to see a proud young nation who could take on any challenge that he faced - And he would see to it that that was exactly what they saw. With renewed vigor, Alfred's stance shifted to a more confidence pose, and he proceeded to knock on the door to the other nation's private chambers. He was ready now.[/style]

[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 80px; color: #4d4d4d;height: 100px;-webkit-transform: rotate(-90deg);-o-transform:rotate(-90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(-90deg); float:left;margin: 70px -70px 70px -70px;]LOVES,[/style][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 100px; color#4d4d4d;width: 400px;margin-left: 90px;color: #373737;]LOST[/style][STYLE=float:right; border: 3px solid #4d4d4d; height: 100px; width: 100px;margin-top: -120px; margin-right: 10px;][/style][STYLE=text-align:justify;font-size: 10px;padding: 0px 10px 5px 80px;]France had heard about the difficulties that America was going through with their Articles of Confederation. It was simply the trials and errors of a new nation. Every one of them had gone through it, and America was no different. He’d heard about how each colony—no, state, he mentally corrected himself—were each allowed one vote for the entire federal government. Pure anarchy, England would have called it, much to Francis’s amusement. Anything that nation chose to rant about amused him, to be frank. But that was just France. Who wouldn’t enjoy such entertaining reactions to world events? Little did France know, he wouldn’t be so entertaining in the following years. It was not uncommon for nations to resort to unusual methods of diplomacy among themselves. It wasn’t limited to any one thing per se, but varied greatly depending which nations were involved. Some of the time, it wasn’t entirely unusual—money or land, perhaps—but other times; it involved something a bit more unconventional. Naturally, France was one of these nations that preferred the unconventional. He could barely remember his first time. He was very young, barely on the cusp of puberty (most nations in the continent were) and it had been part of a demand in response to a shaky alliance with the warring tribes before he had been unified as a nation. He barely counted those years as his own, like any nation; they started their years when they received their official name. He wasn’t France back then, merely one of the Frankish territories. And he was used like traded goods; it was painful and unpleasant. Since then, Francis never wanted to cause another to go through the same experience he had—at least one that was as thoroughly disagreeable. He had been a ‘first’ to quite a few others. With America being so young, so green, France would have also agreed that it almost felt a little like a rite of passage, as strange as that sounded. America gained his independence, was slowly building his government (as rough as it currently was), and was slowly growing into his own. Francis’s hand stilled over his papers as he reminisced. Shaking his head slightly. After realizing that his thought patterns were starting to show his age, he willed them to go away. Now wasn’t the time to think about the unpleasant events of the past or to worry about the air of uncertainty for the coming years. And it solidified with the knock at the door. That was probably the young nation now… France smoothed out his work things quickly, hiding them from view before making his way to the door. And of course, there America was, still as youthful looking as he was on the battlefield a decade before, the same resolute, proud look about him. He was sure that the young nation was hiding his nerves, as any would at his age. France smiled, approving, leaning slightly against the doorframe as his eyes roamed, alight with blatant interest. So young. But still to his taste. ”My, my Amérique. It has been a bit since I’ve last seen you.” With that, he stepped back, allowing Alfred in before leading to the sitting area, careful to draw as little attention as he could to the adjacent bedchambers. He had a little agenda to follow through with first—most of which included some talking and refreshments. No need to rush anything, he thought with a veiled waggish grin. ”So here it is—“ He waved about the ornamented rooms—all garishly decorated in the near turn of the century French fashion. So many details, moldings, and gilded carvings. The rooms themselves were small enough where a tour wasn’t exactly warranted, so this would have to do. “—where I spend the majority of my unoccupied time, though work seems to follow me here, nevertheless.” He smiled, always observing Alfred with that same silent enticement as before. ”I’m sure you are starting to understand the endless work that we must all endure.” Francis continued forward, fingers casually trailing along the back of one of the carved, upholstered armchairs as he passed. With a sidelong glance back at Alfred, he spoke again. ”Please have a seat.” Francis pulled another close by, settling himself as well. ”I trust your voyage went well? If you’re hungry, I have had plenty of things prepared for you.” During the Revolution, Francis had witnessed firsthand how considerable the boy’s appetite was and wouldn’t be at all surprised if he were to take the offer. Not to mention, the majority of the spread consisted of sweets—some of them, such as certain fruits, were rarities. Leaning back in his seat, Francis’s attention briefly traveled to the various pitchers of wine and water. ”There is also some vermouth, fino, and amontillado.” He listed the wine and sherry available. ”Do take care with the fino if you choose it—it’s fairly dry and unforgiving.” He smiled at the last part. This time he would be a good host and kindly warn about the higher-than-usual alcohol content in some of these. He was not about to let Alfred become hopelessly drunk tonight.[/style] [STYLE=margin-left: 80px; background-color: #4d4d4d; color: #b1b1b1; font-size:10px;padding:3px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]NOTES: sorry it's so late! >.> TAGGED: America TIME & PLACE: France 1786 [/style][STYLE=margin-left: 80px; font-size:13px;font-family: arial narrow;padding:0px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]template by pianissimo of BTN[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=valign,top][STYLE=width: 100px; border: 5px solid #242424; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]808[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424;padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]France[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]So yeah, I did research on this...numerous sources refer to madeira wine as a favorite of Thomas Jefferson's. Apparently Washington, Hamilton, Franklin, and Adams all enjoyed it as well. So yeah...after reading THAT, I thought it only made sense to have Alfred express an interest in it. And to think, I was just doing a quick search to see what alcohols were prevalent in America in the 1780s![/style][STYLE=padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #999999; text-align: center;]BY PEBBLE OF BTN[/style]

[atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=style, width: 310px; height: 400px; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px; border-top: 5px solid #242424; border-bottom: 5px solid #242424; border-left: 2px dotted #242424; border-right: 2px dotted #242424;][STYLE=width: 300px; background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; color: #242424; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]Alfred was still largely new to diplomacy overall. He rarely paid much heed to what England did during most of his time as a colony, only starting to care around the time of the French and Indian War. It was quite ironic how things turned out the decade after said war, considering France and America were on opposite sides. Apparently, a shared vendetta against England was enough to allow them to overcome their difference and...well, here they were. Though the young nation was nervous, not all of his jitters came from nerves. Some of them came from excitement. He was meeting with other nations on his own, making deals with other nations on his own, without England. It was a reminder of everything he'd fought for coming into fruition. It was for this reason that Alfred was grinning from ear to ear when France opened the door for him. Alfred stood resolute, refusing to falter under the gaze of Francis. Instead, he met the other man's gaze, with a grin still on his face. "It has. Treaty of Paris, right?" That was another one of Alfred's shining moments. He was excited about the whole thing, he really was! And that was the problem. He was so excited that he could hardly sit still as the treaties were being signed by the officials. His representatives, noting how antsy Alfred was getting, sent him out to the hall for a walk to burn off some of that excess energy. Overall, though, the day had been a shining success. Arthur had finally recognized his independence seven long years after he'd declared it. It was about time. The blond's eyes followed the other blond's hand as it gestured to the room around them. He knew he shouldn't be, but Alfred was still vaguely surprised at just how flashy the room was. There was no doubt that it was impressive nonetheless, which was likely the effect that France was going for. The corners of Alfred's mouth quirked up at the Frenchman's statement about work. "I am. Fortunately, I have several good men working with me who help me out a lot." He greatly appreciated his Founding Fathers, as they would come to be called in the future, and all of their efforts that aided him in his quest to become a successful nation. Though their help did not take all of the work load off of Alfred (there were some matters that only the nation himself could attend to, such as this), it certainly made it a lot more bearable. Alfred took a seat when he was invited to, watching as Francis did the same. His attention drifted to the many delicious treats arranged on the table next to the sofa where he was seated. His eyes darted back to Francis as the older nation addressed him, a small smile coming across his face. "It did. Feels nice to be back on land though." Though Alfred didn't entirely mind travel by ship, it was not his preferred way of travel. There had to be a better way, something faster. Even at this age, patience wasn't exactly one of Alfred's virtues. He made due with what he had, though. As Francis invited him to dine, Alfred felt (and heard) a low rumble coming from the direction of his stomach. He was fairly certain he'd never seen some of these desserts before in his life. Alfred opted for a piece of fruit, nibbling on it at once. Yes, food was one of his biggest weaknesses. The boy always enjoyed it, especially now that he was a fast growing nation. And Francis had a reputation for his food that stretched all the way across the Atlantic. Despite his young physical age, Alfred was no novice to alcohol. After all, his people at this point tended to believe that alcohol was more healthful than water. Although water itself was not unhealthy, there were many polluted water sources that made people sick, and thus Alfred and his people adopted a similar attitude to Europe at this time period - Alcohols were the drinks of choice, not water. That said, wine was a rare treat. Rum, beer, cider, and whiskey were commodities for the nation, but wine typically had to be imported from other sources. Thomas Jefferson spoke with interest of the many wines he came across in France during various diplomatic trips that he'd taken recently. Now that Alfred had the opportunity, he most definitely planned on sampling some for himself. "Do you have any madeira? I've heard good things about that wine and I've wanted to try it for a while now." Indeed, it was one of Jefferson's favorites, and many of the great men he'd referred to earlier partook in the consumption of the beverage. Who could blame Alfred for wanting to sample some himself?[/style]

[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 80px; color: #4d4d4d;height: 100px;-webkit-transform: rotate(-90deg);-o-transform:rotate(-90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(-90deg); float:left;margin: 70px -70px 70px -70px;]LOVES,[/style][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 100px; color#4d4d4d;width: 400px;margin-left: 90px;color: #373737;]LOST[/style][STYLE=float:right; border: 3px solid #4d4d4d; height: 100px; width: 100px;margin-top: -120px; margin-right: 10px;][/style][STYLE=text-align:justify;font-size: 10px;padding: 0px 10px 5px 80px;]A shared quarrel with England was always an intriguing reason for France to help out the American. When were they ever not pulled into conflicts just to spite the other? England and France had an interesting relationship like that and Francis was more than happy to keep it alive. Having a consistent rival (or irritable neighbor, as Francis was more inclined to say) made the world more interesting. Finding interesting things when you’ve been in it for over a thousand years was not an easy task. Ah well. That was life as a nation. France had his own excitement for this evening, though most of the fluttering energy came from anticipation. Because of his preference for negotiation, Francis may have very well slept with the majority of Europe, whose nations went through an obscene amount of flimsy alliances, some of the arrangments with France, much like Alfred here, included giving away their first time. He could almost keep a log for every nationhood’s virginity he had taken, though that was a rather creepy idea, and Francis wasn’t that creepy. Just proud of the fact in his own odd way. Francis smiled with approval over the way that Alfred was handling this. He would make a fine nation, France believed, despite all of the roughness his government was going through. Who didn’t when first starting out? ”Yes, it was.” He nodded slightly in memory of their last meeting. Alfred who was excited as could be while the official documents had been signed. France remembered, with great amusement, how the new nation’s representatives had sent the boy out when he was practically jumping in his seat. So very young, he had thougth at the time. When Alfred answered his inquiry about the new workload that he was now receiving as a new nation, Francis grinned a little. Having these young ones around was quite entertaining, like watching a fresh bird testing out their wings for the very first time. Again—having been around for so long, Francis thrived on the pleasure of novelty. Crossed one leg casually over the other, he lounged back a little as he listened to Alfred reiterating that he was glad to once again be on land. ”Yes, I can understand that,” he sighed gently, though his smile remained. ”I have never been one for sailing either. It holds little appeal for me... and has never really been my forte.” The Frenchman's thooughts drifted briefly to a certain island nation, but he mentally waved it away. Now was not the time to think of pesky neighbors. Francis felt a small surge of delight rush through him when Alfred opted to choose something. It honestly gave the nation a satisfied sort of pleasure to have others enjoy his delicacies—just as an artist would be proud to showcase their work or an inventor with revealing his creations to the public. ”Take whatever you’d like throughout the evening. It’ll keep nicely.” He spoke politely while finally pouring himself some wine from the prettily silver cast decanter. Everything—even the serving instruments had some sort of French flare to it. Some probably thought it gaudy, but Francis adored the details. His attention was perked when Alfred requested madeira, iimmediately wondering why he would have requested it. Perhaps it was a drink of choice in the Americas? Francis couldn’t remember. It was good—there was nothing he could complain about it, although he still liked to give Portugal and Spain a hard time for their wine, he really did like them—which was evidenced by the selection tonight. It was all in good fun to tease them—at least, in Francis’s mind. ”I do have some on hand. Allow me to retrieve it.” He stood and went to his own collection. Of course France would keep some in his private chambers! It shouldn’t be a revelation. It took a bit of time going through the various types (as he had several, probably far more than one should keep next to the bedroom) until he found it somewhere in the dusty far corner. No, it wasn’t a favorite of his, but it was good enough to still keep around on occasion. Clutching the madeira, he revealed it to Alfred with a playful, triumphant smile. ”I am curious, Amérique… why the interest in this particular wine?” he asked as he poured the younger nation a generous amount of the wine, silently hoping that the boy wasn’t a lightweight. If he started acting a bit legless, then he would carefully take the cup away before it could be finished. But France wasn’t going to be meager either on this special occasion and in the end decided to give him a decent amount. ”Here you are,” he handed it over carefully. Taking his own glass, he sat once more, though situated himself a bit closer to Alfred, watching the young nation with a confident warm gaze as he tasted his own, savoring.[/style] [STYLE=margin-left: 80px; background-color: #4d4d4d; color: #b1b1b1; font-size:10px;padding:3px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]NOTES: catching up on posts.. sorry for the wait. x) TAGGED: America TIME & PLACE: France 1786 [/style][STYLE=margin-left: 80px; font-size:13px;font-family: arial narrow;padding:0px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]template by pianissimo of BTN[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=valign,top][STYLE=width: 100px; border: 5px solid #242424; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]562[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424;padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]France[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]This got considerably shorter. >.<[/style][STYLE=padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #999999; text-align: center;]BY PEBBLE OF BTN[/style]

[atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=style, width: 310px; height: 400px; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px; border-top: 5px solid #242424; border-bottom: 5px solid #242424; border-left: 2px dotted #242424; border-right: 2px dotted #242424;][STYLE=width: 300px; background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; color: #242424; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]Being new to diplomacy in general meant that Alfred was new to this particular flavor of diplomacy as well. Add another tally to that mental log, Francis. The young nation had mixed feelings about this entire endeavor. It was a reminder that he was considered a full grown nation in the eyes of other nations now, and that was quite exciting. At the same time, those nerves were ever present. Anyone would be nervous during their first time, so to speak, but this wasn't with no strings attached. This was partial payment for the other nation's aid during the Revolution. To Alfred, that meant that he'd better live up to France's expectations, or exceed them. He was prepared to rise to the challenge. Alfred continued to munch, careful to mind his manners even though he could barely constrain himself. Once he'd established himself as a presence in the world, maybe he could relax a bit (a lot, as fate would prove), but for now, he felt as though he had to do his best to impress. Oh, Alfred certainly noticed the 'gaudy' look to some of the items in this room, mentally grinning as he pictured England's reaction in his head. In fact, picturing the island nation's reaction to this entire scene was extremely amusing. Not only was America independent, but he was in cohorts with France of all nations. It was like rubbing salt in the wound! And given that Alfred was just as bitter as Arthur at this point in time, this was exactly what Alfred wanted. "Thanks, I will." He'd live up to his word too. Alfred was a fast growing nation, and it reflected in his voracious appetite. He didn't plan on letting much go to waste, and planned on trying just about everything that France had to offer him. Alfred smiled when Francis indicated that he did indeed have madeira on hand. He continued to munch on the multitude of snacks that Francis had set out for him as he waited, partially out of hunger and partially to give something something to do with his hands. Alfred was not the type of person who could sit idly very well, and at least this offered a way that he could sit and yet still move about without it being too bothersome. The blond watched as Francis poured him a generous helping of wine, a tad surprised at how much was there, but with no complaints. France asked him why he'd requested that wine in particular, and Alfred smiled. "Jefferson loves it. Lately, he's been bringing back a lot of your wine," he knew France would likely be pleased with this revelation, "but madeira's been his favorite for as long as I've known him. Many of the other men involved in my government enjoy it too. It was even used to toast my Declaration of Independence." Therefore, it only seemed fitting that he drink it on this occasion, as he was undergoing another rite of passage with one of the men who aided him in his quest. "Thanks." Alfred graciously accepted the glass Francis presented him with and raised it to his lips, taking a few sips and savoring the taste. He grinned approvingly. Yes, he could see why this was Jefferson's favorite.[/style]

[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 80px; color: #4d4d4d;height: 100px;-webkit-transform: rotate(-90deg);-o-transform:rotate(-90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(-90deg); float:left;margin: 70px -70px 70px -70px;]LOVES,[/style][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 100px; color#4d4d4d;width: 400px;margin-left: 90px;color: #373737;]LOST[/style][STYLE=float:right; border: 3px solid #4d4d4d; height: 100px; width: 100px;margin-top: -120px; margin-right: 10px;][/style][STYLE=text-align:justify;font-size: 10px;padding: 0px 10px 5px 80px;]Yes, this was definitely another tally. Francis would be sure of that. A very thorough tally in which he would introduce Alfred to a wide range of innovative things. But, of course, he wasn’t going to frighten the boy away. Then again, it depends on how open he naturally was. Francis had had virgins who were quite receptive to him, though there are always many more who could never escape that difficult first time. Overall, he really had decided that tonight was generally going to be vanilla (at least, whatever France considered to be vanilla in any case) with the occasional surprise along the way to keep things interesting. In France’s experience, he found that everyone he ever attained had their own unique taste when it came to how they were in such a vulnerable state—their own muddle of preferences, who they became for that short moment, and how they responded. Really, no matter how it’s done, it really is a vulnerable experience. One was opening themselves up to another—it lowers defenses, mentally and physically, leaving one bare. And (in a good scenario) there were equal amounts of giving and taking. France was delighted to see that Alfred seemed taken by his food. At least it seemed that way with the way he was nibbling on everything. It was good to have a strong appetite. It stirred the mind into other productive, far more exhilarating activities. Some of the delicacies in France were practically inspired by sex. Oh, yes. Though France was positive that some of what he was serving the new nation would go way over his innocent head. Well, he wouldn’t be innocent for long. Francis noticed that Alfred seemed to have a bit of trouble sitting still—or at least having nothing even miniscule to do. Perhaps he should find a way to keep his hands otherwise occupied. Fidgeting just wouldn’t do. In that way, Francis would indeed be a very good host. As Alfred correctly predicted, the older nation couldn’t help but to feel pleased upon hearing that Jefferson seemed to have taken a liking to his wine and was apparently in plenty supply of it. In that way, this choice of wine was quite fitting for this occasion and he was glad to have had it on hand. Attempting to be indiscrete as Alfred tested the wine, Francis moved closer so that their knees brushed ever so slightly. But he continued to lounge casually with his wine, an impish smile upon his face. ”So, I am curious, Alfred—have you ever been with anyone?” He asked this in a gentler voice. Of course, he was never shy to ask such questions, but Francis did feel a level of appropriateness in it, seeing as what they were about to do themselves. He was sure that the American had been with no other nation, but it was possible with others. Knowing this, then at least Francis would be certain about how blank his canvas really was before starting with the basics. Or… knowing how much more wine the young nation would need to erase whatever nerves remained. Though his body itched to do more, he calmed himself with another sip of wine. He had to test the waters first. At least his guest seemed to be more of the receptive type, which was all the more exciting for the older nation.[/style] [STYLE=margin-left: 80px; background-color: #4d4d4d; color: #b1b1b1; font-size:10px;padding:3px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]NOTES: Alright. Got it done, whooot! And Francis totally wanted to do more, but I held him back a little. XP TAGGED: America TIME & PLACE: France 1786 [/style][STYLE=margin-left: 80px; font-size:13px;font-family: arial narrow;padding:0px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]template by pianissimo of BTN[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=valign,top][STYLE=width: 100px; border: 5px solid #242424; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]626[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424;padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]France[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]Moving in the right direction. =P[/style][STYLE=padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #999999; text-align: center;]BY PEBBLE OF BTN[/style]

[atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=style, width: 310px; height: 400px; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px; border-top: 5px solid #242424; border-bottom: 5px solid #242424; border-left: 2px dotted #242424; border-right: 2px dotted #242424;][STYLE=width: 300px; background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; color: #242424; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]Alfred was torn on how he wanted the night to go. He knew that France was going to introduce him to a multitude of things he'd probably never even thought of before, but he couldn't decide whether he wanted it to go slow or whether he wanted to take in as much as he possibly could. The fact that he was inexperienced, not only in this arena but in just about everything that came with nation-hood, weighed on him. What better way to get rid of said inexperience than by learning as much as Francis could teach him in their night together? It was only natural for Alfred to fidget. He was still very much young, and full of energy and excitement. He was expending some of his energy on partaking in food and drink, but there was still an awful lot of excess energy to burn - A reserve that the food Alfred was consuming was adding to. Fortunately, he'd have ample opportunity to burn off that excess energy in due time. Alfred paused occasionally to sip at his madeira. Fortunately, the boy was not a lightweight, at least when it came to beverages with a lower alcohol content. Beers and wines he could handle fairly well; stronger drinks, such as vodka, rum, and even whiskey he struggled with. This did not mean that the wine would not loosen him up a bit - It was still alcohol, and alcohol tended to have that effect. Francis could rest assured, though, that Alfred would not be rendered unfit for the taking by a little wine. The young nation was thankful that his mouth was not full of the beverage at the older nation's next question, for he likely would have choked on the contents of his mouth. He knew that France was straightforward when it came to the subject, far more straightforward than any other nation (so far as Alfred knew), but the question nevertheless caught him by surprise. He was also a little embarrassed. Here, he would have to admit that he was a virgin. Being a new nation, there was nothing wrong with such a thing, and it was likely to be expected. It was still a matter of admitting he was inexperienced, though, and that was something Alfred hated to admit. Fortunately, he could at least admit that he was not so inexperienced that he had not even experienced a kiss. "I was...interested in a girl by the name of Sarah." Instead of feeling pleased, he instead felt emptiness as Sarah's name crossed his lips. He had no way of knowing that Francis had experienced something similar, a few centuries prior. "I courted her for a few years, but...it didn't end the way I'd hoped." Not that it could, and Alfred realized that now. Even if the two had married, had had children, Alfred would outlive her. She would age, he would not (at least not in the way she would). It was not something he'd considered at the time, that perhaps the young woman finding happiness in another man while Alfred was off fighting for his freedom was best for both her and himself. That did not mean that it didn't still bother him. He refused to dwell, though. He was not going to kill the mood by moping, not when he had a debt to repay to France, and lessons he was eager to partake in thrown in the mix. Instead of being put off by Francis' knee brushing against his, Alfred leaned closer to the older nation as well, providing France with some reciprocation for his advances. Now, what would France choose to do with it?[/style]

[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 80px; color: #4d4d4d;height: 100px;-webkit-transform: rotate(-90deg);-o-transform:rotate(-90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(-90deg); float:left;margin: 70px -70px 70px -70px;]LOVES,[/style][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 100px; color#4d4d4d;width: 400px;margin-left: 90px;color: #373737;]LOST[/style][STYLE=float:right; border: 3px solid #4d4d4d; height: 100px; width: 100px;margin-top: -120px; margin-right: 10px;][/style][STYLE=text-align:justify;font-size: 10px;padding: 0px 10px 5px 80px;]Francis’s expression softened when Alfred mentioned a girl. It was clear—at least to the French nation—that he had cared quite a bit for her. First love often was the most cemented in any person’s mind. No matter how much time had passed since. Or even if they had eventually shredded the other’s heart to pieces and found another, they would still be there. Firsts were always weighty with memories of what could’ve been. Even with nations. ”Things rarely ever do for our kind,” Francis stated with an averted stare, his eyes briefly somewhere far from where they were. His memories were particularly cruel, but he managed to avoid confronting them for many, many years. Within a moment, he looked back at Alfred. Time did help, though. Soon, he might forget the exact features of her face or remember the way that she used to smile, or the way that she used to speak, but it was always infinitely more difficult to disremember the way that people like her had made them feel. Sighing quietly, he turned his attention back to the room and back to Alfred. At least he discovered that Alfred was as inexperienced as he seemed. Francis was excited to make his mark—to leave something that was exclusively his behind on this new nation. Taking another quick sip from his drink, he set it aside, feeling the rush of wine down his throat before it warmed his belly. His skin tingled and heated pleasantly with what he had already consumed for the evening. After noticing that Alfred seemed to be reciprocating his small unspoken inquiry when their knees brushed together, the corners of his mouth lifted marginally. He moved his chair so that they were fairly close now—as close as they can currently be. Francis reached out and touched Alfred’s knee, his fingers pressing up along his thigh while his thumb brushed along the side, feeling the tense stretch of muscle beneath. He wanted to feel them tremble against him. He wondered what he would taste like, what he would feel like, and what he would look like when he was being taken. Everyone looked different—as distinct as they were. Before anything could happen, though, there had to be the desire. Francis was quiet, only giving Alfred glances as his hands moved. They were light and teasing; though he applied pressure occasionally. Fingers dipped along the side of Alfred’s lower thigh, applying pressure there. Only a couple of times did his fingertips dare to go any higher. Of course Francis didn’t mind moving faster, but he was watching Alfred’s reactions. Half of him just wanted to take this in, while the other half waited for that signature heavy-lidded look. Young men like him were usually quick to excite. Leaning closer in, Francis brushed his closed lips against Alfred’s before they traveled across his cheek to the place where his jaw met his ear. He was warm and he smelled fresh somehow—like having just come in from the outdoors. It wasn’t unpleasant and Francis breathed the scent before touching his mouth to Alfred's ear, teasing him a little more. ”I’ll just have to teach you everything, then,” his voice came low and nearly at a whisper. He moved lower and his mouth found an interesting spot at his neck, but was hindered by the fabric to go any further. His other hand left Alfred’s knee and slid up his chest, fiddling with the fastenings of his waistcoat until he found his collar and began to loosen the knotted fabric there. His mind wandered a little, wondering if Alfred had any hidden fixations yet to be discovered. France usually had fun finding them in others and they were all so distinctive of their owners. A fleeting memory of Arthur passed through his mind. Francis had quickly discovered that that nation had an almost unusual neck fetish—to Francis, it was very useful whenever they underwent difficult negotiations. He smirked against Alfred’s skin as he thought about how the island nation would react to what he was about to do to his former charge.[/style] [STYLE=margin-left: 80px; background-color: #4d4d4d; color: #b1b1b1; font-size:10px;padding:3px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]NOTES: Lol, right? XD TAGGED: America TIME & PLACE: France 1786 [/style][STYLE=margin-left: 80px; font-size:13px;font-family: arial narrow;padding:0px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]template by pianissimo of BTN[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=valign,top][STYLE=width: 100px; border: 5px solid #242424; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]551[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424;padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]France[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]Heh. XD[/style][STYLE=padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #999999; text-align: center;]BY PEBBLE OF BTN[/style]

[atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=style, width: 310px; height: 400px; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px; border-top: 5px solid #242424; border-bottom: 5px solid #242424; border-left: 2px dotted #242424; border-right: 2px dotted #242424;][STYLE=width: 300px; background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; color: #242424; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]Alfred was a tad surprised at the other nation's reaction to his tale about Sarah. He hadn't expected the other man to show any signs that he understood. While Alfred never outright thought that he was the only nation to fall for a human, it wasn't a possibility he'd given much thought to until now. Those words in particular were poignant. Alfred knew then and there that he was not the only nation to experience what he had with Sarah. He was curious, per usual, and it was only a stroke of luck that prevented him from posing a question to France. Such a question would have likely killed the mood, after all. Any words he planned to speak died on his lips as he felt Francis' hand on his knee. He knew this was no accident, and watched with interest, wondering what might happen next. He watched as the other man's hand started to trace his thigh, exerting a light pressure that Alfred found he rather enjoyed. He also discovered that the higher Francis went, the better it felt. Francis refused to touch the spot Alfred wanted him to touch the most, though, and that frustrated him. How could he let his fingers linger so close and yet not touch him there? He squirmed a little in his seat, trying to get Francis' hand to "accidentally" trail up even farther. Their lips touched briefly, before Francis' mouth trailed to the side of his face. Alfred wasn't sure what France found so interesting there, but he wasn't complaining. Alfred felt the slightest of shivers go through him at the feeling of the other nation's warm breath on his ear. So this was what the other was doing, was it? He liked it. Even as he enjoyed the other man's affections, he was making mental notes of what Francis was doing, and what he himself was enjoying. It was all information that would likely come in handy in the future. He doubted this would be his last encounter, and he wanted to be able to show his experience the next time around, regardless of who his partner was. Alfred felt a wave of pleasure at the words whispered softly into his ear, traveling straight down from his ear to his groin. He watched as the other nation fiddled with his clothing, wondering if perhaps he ought to help France, but finding that the other nation managed just fine on his own. He wondered at what Francis was doing. He was well aware that both of their clothes needed to be off for the night to go as planned, but he wasn't expecting it to happen so early. A slight look of surprise crossed Alfred's features as he gazed at Francis. As it turned out, Alfred's initial theory was wrong. The other blond was only trying to expose Alfred's neck. He felt France's lips on his skin, a slight humming noise escaping his throat as he tilted his head slightly in the other direction. He might have been inexperienced, but there were certain things one didn't need much experience to figure out. It was clear that Francis' attention was now directed toward Alfred's neck, and Alfred wanted to give him as much room as possible to work his magic.[/style]

[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 80px; color: #4d4d4d;height: 100px;-webkit-transform: rotate(-90deg);-o-transform:rotate(-90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(-90deg); float:left;margin: 70px -70px 70px -70px;]LOVES,[/style][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 100px; color#4d4d4d;width: 400px;margin-left: 90px;color: #373737;]LOST[/style][STYLE=float:right; border: 3px solid #4d4d4d; height: 100px; width: 100px;margin-top: -120px; margin-right: 10px;][/style][STYLE=text-align:justify;font-size: 10px;padding: 0px 10px 5px 80px;]Many of the nations did have the misfortune to fall for a human—a fleeting, vulnerable, fragile human. And it was usually a misfortune for the person to be loved by the nation. Not in all cases, no. But there were incidences where it proved to be their destruction. History might know them as tragic heroes and legendary leaders. France, England, Spain, Portugal, Prussia… and many others all knew that sort of love. Those who would rather give their love to their countrymen and nation as opposed to the hope for a normal life. Francis was unaware that the beginning of his very faint foreplay had successfully cut off Alfred’s further probe into the subject. If he had known, he probably would have started off with something a bit stronger to more forcefully seal away his inquisitiveness. It felt a bit odd to have someone with that exuberant amount of curiosity to attempt to touch his secrets. Things that should remain hidden. Things that he rarely ever allowed others to see. No wonder England had wanted him so badly. This boy’s persistence alone was probably what had gotten under the wire of Arthur’s cold protection of his battered heart. Yes, Francis had some idea of how broken his neighbor was beneath his refined exterior. He had a hand in some of Arthur’s scars after all. Many times through. It took all of Francis’s self-control not to laugh at the kind of uncomfortable squirming that Alfred was clearly displaying in his seat. He was hoping to draw out a few more of those movements from him before he gave him any real satisfaction. And so he drew it on a moment longer, his content eyes indulging on the sight of the young, innocent nation reacting to the smallest of touches. He was careful to not allow his hands to be misled by Alfred’s attempts to ‘accidentally’ brush up against him. Oh, no. Francis was in control for their first time. If they ever had this arrangement again, Francis would give him a different sort of lesson—how to give as well as take with equal dignity. Yes, there was such a thing. Again, he had to control the amusement that bubbled up inside when he saw Alfred’s small expression of surprise when he loosened some of his clothing. Virgins were so fun to play with. He probably had the notion that they were to mechanically slip out of all of their clothing and to have the most diplomatic and mechanical sex known to man. God, that’s probably how England would have given the ‘sex talk’ if Alfred had been his colony just a little longer. Francis tried not to laugh at the image of stuffy, blushing England giving a horrible version of ‘the talk’ to another. France felt the faint traces of excitement trickle through his body at the subtle response that Alfred was giving him. Although he had practically created them for the rest of the world to follow his lead, current fashions were a bit stuffy, especially around the neck area, which is why it was necessary for Francis to fiddle with unrelated areas of his clothing just to reach the neck. Nevertheless, it allowed him to scantly trace nonexistent patterns across his torso just to tease him a little bit more. When his neck was free and tilted slightly to the side for more room, he tasted Alfred’s neck. He performed a meticulous pattern that he frequently used against Alfred's former guardian to persuade force him into more intimate forms of diplomacy. Though, he was a bit softer on Alfred. He sucked lightly, making his way down to the set of nerves to the curve where his neck met his shoulder before making his way back up. His breath warmed the skin between kisses, light nips, and sucks. He was forming a very lovely, rosy mark. It would be far more prominent by the time their night came to a close. In the meantime, however; he wasn’t in any hurry. And he would leave Alfred with many more marks, some in far more interesting places. His teasing hand that was perched on Alfred’s thigh finally slipped between his legs, exactly where Alfred had been trying to get him to touch earlier. He massaged with a sufficient amount of pressure and squeezed gently, his fingers far too skilled at kneading a quick and heavy response. One of his secrets was to charm the women… and arouse the men. Francis moved his mouth away from Alfred’s neck. His unoccupied hand tilted Alfred's chin towards him before finally taking claim of the young nation’s mouth, molding it against his. [/style] [STYLE=margin-left: 80px; background-color: #4d4d4d; color: #b1b1b1; font-size:10px;padding:3px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]NOTES: Lol, right? XD TAGGED: America TIME & PLACE: France 1786 [/style][STYLE=margin-left: 80px; font-size:13px;font-family: arial narrow;padding:0px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]template by pianissimo of BTN[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=valign,top][STYLE=width: 100px; border: 5px solid #242424; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]525[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424;padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]France[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]Yep. =P[/style][STYLE=padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #999999; text-align: center;]BY PEBBLE OF BTN[/style]

[atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=style, width: 310px; height: 400px; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px; border-top: 5px solid #242424; border-bottom: 5px solid #242424; border-left: 2px dotted #242424; border-right: 2px dotted #242424;][STYLE=width: 300px; background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; color: #242424; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]In Alfred's case, at least, his romance with Sarah did not prove to be her undoing. Even so, it was a doomed romance from the get go, something that he had not seen at the time. It never would have worked out. Eventually she would have discovered who he was. She might have rejected him at said point, or perhaps she would have stayed with him. It didn't matter. Regardless of what option she chose, she would grow old. Alfred would retain his youthful features. Alfred could not help but enjoy the presence of humans, especially of men and women who made him proud to call them his citizens. He regarded the men who would eventually be known as his founding fathers with such high esteem that it was impossible to doubt that Alfred felt some sort of familial bond to some of them (especially Washington). With Sarah, though, he came to the realization that he could not act on any romantic feelings toward humans. Never before had he been touched in this fashion, and thus his reactions were more exaggerated as they might have been had he more experience. These sensations would feel nice no matter what experience level he was at, there was no doubt about that. The fact that they were brand new to Alfred only made them that much more tantalizing. He bit down on his lip as the other nation's hands lightly traced over his torso. Alfred did have a weakness on his neck, though it was not as powerful as Arthur's. It felt fantastic, and Alfred's pants grew more constrictive with every action of the other nation's mouth, but he was not yet at the level of arousal that Francis apparently wanted him at. That was soon remedied when Francis finally cooperated and brushed his hand against the bulge in Alfred's pants. The lightest of moans escaped Alfred's throat, but the brush was only the beginning. Francis was finally giving the area the attention it much desired, and Alfred grew increasingly more aroused with every motion the man made. Even through his growing haze, he was aware of how Francis knew just where to touch, just what to do to turn Alfred into putty in his hands. Alfred could not help but think that he'd picked the right person to learn this art from. The blond pouted at the sensation of France's mouth moving from his neck. Blue eyes peered at Francis, face expressing a peculiar combination of both wide-eyed innocence and want. It was likely just the sort of look that Francis was hoping for. As it turned out, Alfred had no need to worry. Francis was simply moving his lips to another location, a location that Alfred was at least somewhat familiar with. It was for this reason that Alfred responded back in kind. He knew Francis would likely show him things he'd never done before even in this department, and he was receptive to this. However, he did want to showcase the fact that he was not a complete novice.[/style]

[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 80px; color: #4d4d4d;height: 100px;-webkit-transform: rotate(-90deg);-o-transform:rotate(-90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(-90deg); float:left;margin: 70px -70px 70px -70px;]LOVES,[/style][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 100px; color#4d4d4d;width: 400px;margin-left: 90px;color: #373737;]LOST[/style][STYLE=float:right; border: 3px solid #4d4d4d; height: 100px; width: 100px;margin-top: -120px; margin-right: 10px;][/style][STYLE=text-align:justify;font-size: 10px;padding: 0px 10px 5px 80px;]Had Francis known a bit more about Alfred’s first romance, he would have quietly sympathized, but it was a lesson that they all learned eventually. Some nations preferred to remain as detached as they could from humans, but that was difficult. It was difficult not to get attached to certain exceptional others; those who pledged their lives to them, those that would burn their name into history for their deeds, or even phenomenal leaders. Francis had a tendency to rather enjoy the company of humans. He found that the more that his heart was broken by the natural circumstances of life, the more he could tolerate it in a sense, but it didn’t make their departure from this world any easier. Romantic attachments... he wanted to avoid. Sure, he may woo men and women at court. Even now, there was a handkerchief left in one of his pockets as a token of a certain someone’s favor whom he had been working on for a while now. Much like in a twisted little game that he often liked to play. The more he touched Alfred, the more he came to remember just how sensitive virgins were. It had been a while since he had taken one. Even the smallest of touches had a clear effect on the boy. It was not at all something to be embarrassed over, rather Francis thought them endearing. Oh innocence—so fragile and so easily ruined. It was almost a shame to take it. Almost. A corner of his mouth lifted in a slightly devious manner when he saw Alfred biting his lip. Francis tried his damned hardest not to chuckle when he first brushed his hand between Alfred’s legs. He was already quite aroused, while Francis’s body was yet to be affected in the slightest. Ah well, it was moments like these where age began to show. It didn’t bother him, though. Francis was having his own sort of fun watching the younger nation squirm a little beneath him. And this was just the beginning… This time, Francis couldn’t help the small sound of amusement when he noticed Alfred pouting a bit. Just like when he was a child. Well… more of a child. And yes, he was very much pleased by the expression of the young nation—so young, so wanting. It caused a peculiar rush of affection and eagerness through him. Not one that he hasn’t felt before, but it was still somewhat of a novelty. Interest began to increase when he felt Alfred responding to his kiss. It was almost immediate. It still felt quite gentle and innocent, though he was sure that this was the sort of thing that he probably did with his first love. He moved from Alfred’s top lip to his bottom, kissing each softly. After a few more of those mild movements of the mouth, Francis tried moving it a bit further and moved the tip of his tongue along the indent between the younger nation’s lips. His hand between Alfred’s legs easing a bit more pressure over him before he began to undo the fastenings at the top of his trousers. He was careful in not disturbing his undergarments as his fingers slipped beneath to touch once again, losing one layer of cloth between them, but still teasingly keeping the other, much thinner one there. [/style] [STYLE=margin-left: 80px; background-color: #4d4d4d; color: #b1b1b1; font-size:10px;padding:3px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]NOTES: Oh France... xD TAGGED: America TIME & PLACE: France 1786 [/style][STYLE=margin-left: 80px; font-size:13px;font-family: arial narrow;padding:0px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]template by pianissimo of BTN[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=valign,top][STYLE=width: 100px; border: 5px solid #242424; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]432[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424;padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]France[/style][STYLE=width: 110px; border: 2px dotted #242424; padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #242424; text-align: center; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); margin-top: 5px;]=)[/style][STYLE=padding: 3px; font-size: 10px; font-family: courier; color: #999999; text-align: center;]BY PEBBLE OF BTN[/style]

[atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=style, width: 310px; height: 400px; background-image:url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/subtlenet2.png); padding: 5px; border-top: 5px solid #242424; border-bottom: 5px solid #242424; border-left: 2px dotted #242424; border-right: 2px dotted #242424;][STYLE=width: 300px; background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; color: #242424; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]Alfred's attitude toward regular humans was similar to Francis. He would always get attached to certain humans. It was unavoidable, and, to be frank, it wasn't something that Alfred wanted to avoid. The young nation awaited every touch by Francis with want. It wouldn't be long before he became rather experienced himself (though not as much as Francis - it was doubtful that anyone could compete with the nation in love in this category). Yes, he could see himself partaking in this again, and he had yet to even experience the extent of what Francis planned to offer him. If Alfred realized just how aroused he was in comparison to Francis, he likely would have been embarrassed. Fortunately, he remained unaware of this, and was able to relax and enjoy the sensations that he was being introduced to. Alfred was nevertheless grateful for the venture into kissing. This he at least had a basic knowledge of, and could reciprocate. He felt the older nation giving specific attention to both his top and bottom lip. Alfred had some idea of what Francis wanted when he felt Francis's tongue against the indent in between his lips. He was not entirely inexperienced when it came to kissing, though he'd only ventured into this with Sarah a couple of times. He opened his mouth to Francis, jutting his own tongue forward to meet tentatively with the older nation's. Their lips were still touching, as well as their tongues, when Alfred let out an open mouthed gasp. In the midst of everything else going on, Alfred hardly noticed that some of the pressure below his waist had been relieved. It was impossible to ignore how good the touches felt with one thick layer of fabric out of the way. He still wished that Francis would venture beneath that final layer, but Francis was taking it painfully slow. He had a feeling that he understood why, and part of him enjoyed the anticipation. The other part was growing terribly impatient, as he was wont to do even in situations outside of the bedroom. This impatience showed in the young nation's next actions. He began to squirm under France's touch, only this time with a clear motive in mind. He was trying to produce a certain sort of friction. In the meantime, his lips were still against Francis', as he awaited the older nation's next actions. He was the teacher in this, after all, and Alfred the student. Alfred was more than ready for his next lesson.[/style]

[atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100][atrb=vAlign,top][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 80px; color: #4d4d4d;height: 100px;-webkit-transform: rotate(-90deg);-o-transform:rotate(-90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(-90deg); float:left;margin: 70px -70px 70px -70px;]LOVES,[/style][STYLE=font-family: impact;font-size: 100px; color#4d4d4d;width: 400px;margin-left: 90px;color: #373737;]LOST[/style][STYLE=float:right; border: 3px solid #4d4d4d; height: 100px; width: 100px;margin-top: -120px; margin-right: 10px;][/style][STYLE=text-align:justify;font-size: 10px;padding: 0px 10px 5px 80px;]In the future, France would come to the odd realization that all of the nations or others similar to their kind who he had first slept with, would grow quite an appetite for it later within various parts of the world. Francis preferred to put it more bluntly, but it didn’t sound so eloquent, so he refrained from rationalizing it, only smiling briefly in ill-behaved thought whenever it crossed his mind. Francis watched Alfred carefully, noticing the subtle differences between him and others that he had taken. Everyone had their own flavor, their own little reactions to the things that he did, that it was a fun experience each and every time when physically introducing certain pleasures. He usually provided a brief taste of everything for first-timers to give them a varied palate, unless, of course, they were too uncomfortable to go any further than the orthodox. Even now, Francis could already tell that Alfred was eager to move things along. The corner of Francis’s lip tightened slightly in what would have been a cheeky grin if his mouth weren’t otherwise occupied when he felt the tongue. He was pleased that Alfred at least knew enough to ease his mouth against his, giving him entree. Francis met his tentative tongue with his own, firm and experienced without the sloppy awkwardness of usual first kisses, the muscle sliding warmly against his. His free hand gently gripped at Alfred’s jaw, tilting his head slightly as he deepened the kiss. Fingers completely undid the rest of the fastenings of Alfred’s trousers. Pulling away from Alfred, he briefly pressed his mouth to the other's lower lip, sucking and nipping gently. He always did have a thing for the teasing the lower lip, softly abusing it until it was wonderfully rosy and swollen. He could almost feel the impatience emitting from America’s body—patience had never been one of the boy’s virtues. France remembered that at least from when he was younger. Always one for instant gratification, an echo of one of certain future cultural traits. His mouth then pressed and moved lightly across Alfred's jaw as hands (which sadly meant that he took a certain hand away from certain parts for the time being) began to work apart the fastenings of Alfred’s clothing, slowly exposing his skin inch by inch. When that had been accomplished, a pale line of his chest was revealed, the fastenings hanging loose, Francis pulled back. He slid off his own coat, now finally starting to feel the familiar heat of excitement radiating through his body, though he still remained fully clothed… and was planning on keeping it that way for now. After draping the soft blue fabric over the arm of the sofa, he glanced back at the flushed young nation, like admiring ripened fruit ready for the taking. And Francis was going to have the first succulent bite, tainting him first. Reaching out, he touched the side of Alfred’s face, his thumb skimming softly down his cheek. The gesture was mildly affectionate. It would be a lie if Francis said that he didn’t have any for the young nation. Although they’ve had their differences and would continue to have some, they still shared their own connections. A little fragment of warm familiarity that would enhance this first-time experience. ”Let us continue in the other room…” the Frenchman spoke quietly with a small smile. It was a short walk, his fingers brushing against the back of Alfred’s arm encouraging him to follow, still keeping an echo of that physical intimacy as they emerged into Francis’s dimly lit bedchambers. The attention to detail from the other room appeared to have also seeped into this one, though it was slightly softer, not as garish—probably more befitting of a room meant to be serene. Along the way, older nation’s mouth grazed the back of Alfred’s ear, nipping near the lobe as his hand slipped beneath his clothing still hanging over the boy's shoulders, bold fingers exploring his torso. [/style] [STYLE=margin-left: 80px; background-color: #4d4d4d; color: #b1b1b1; font-size:10px;padding:3px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]NOTES: Heh ;D TAGGED: America TIME & PLACE: France 1786 [/style][STYLE=margin-left: 80px; font-size:13px;font-family: arial narrow;padding:0px;text-align: center;margin-right: 10px;]template by pianissimo of BTN[/style]