Oh get out of it Francis. I'm tired of this, tired of you going mad, tired of you acting the git, tired of being in this town, tired of watching you transform like a bloody caterpillar. [ Though he doesn't reach forward again, despite his words, and instead sighs, aggravated, and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. ]
It's subjective. The year for some of us is quite different than for others. But if you are asking the year I'm from, it'd be 2011. And yes, before you ask, you're still a twat.
[ Scoffing, he walks past him, until he's a good five steps behind the Frenchman. ]
Look, as pleasant as this conversation may be, either come with me and we'll take you back inside, or go run around like the madman you are. I'm trying to do something here, and if you want to inconvenience me with your time-skipping bollocks, well we might just have to wait until I'm in the right mood for it. Which I'm not, currently.
[ A glance back over his shoulder. ] And before you tell me where you're from, I know. But this isn't then, it's now, whenever and wherever now may be. And now consists of a landscape neither of us are familiar with, and now requires at least one of us to pursue an exit.
[ And with that, he begins his walk. It's true, an escape does need to be located, Arthur is sick of Francis being sick and he is a bit too tired to be dealing with everything. But he knows half of it all is a ruse; there's still the undercurrent of fear thrumming in his veins, wrapping around his consciousness with insecurities yet to be unveiled. He's had his words with Francis, and though he wants to stay about the general area to watch over his sweetest enemy, he doesn't want to be near him right now. ]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 12:25 am (UTC)It's subjective. The year for some of us is quite different than for others. But if you are asking the year I'm from, it'd be 2011. And yes, before you ask, you're still a twat.
[ Scoffing, he walks past him, until he's a good five steps behind the Frenchman. ]
Look, as pleasant as this conversation may be, either come with me and we'll take you back inside, or go run around like the madman you are. I'm trying to do something here, and if you want to inconvenience me with your time-skipping bollocks, well we might just have to wait until I'm in the right mood for it. Which I'm not, currently.
[ A glance back over his shoulder. ] And before you tell me where you're from, I know. But this isn't then, it's now, whenever and wherever now may be. And now consists of a landscape neither of us are familiar with, and now requires at least one of us to pursue an exit.
[ And with that, he begins his walk. It's true, an escape does need to be located, Arthur is sick of Francis being sick and he is a bit too tired to be dealing with everything. But he knows half of it all is a ruse; there's still the undercurrent of fear thrumming in his veins, wrapping around his consciousness with insecurities yet to be unveiled. He's had his words with Francis, and though he wants to stay about the general area to watch over his sweetest enemy, he doesn't want to be near him right now. ]