Creation of the Heart (Tori/Oco rp) Do not post.

[Wolfborg007]

Tori_Akemori

XxXxXx Arthur Kirkland/ England xXxXxX

Sighing, he looked up at his creation. It was finished.
Created out of his loneliness, Arthur sat back, wiping his brow.
Yes... the statue that had been promised to the museum, was finally finished.
He smiled, looking up at it... at him.
The labor of several years finally being brought to life.
Or at least, as close to life as it could come.
Honestly, he wouldn't have expected anything like that coming from him, but it did... and it was as beautiful as he pictured it.

x x x

[Tori_Akemori]

Francis Bonnefoy
"I’m not a whore."


{{OOC; n/a }}

He felt... Strange. He stared fixedly ahead, unable to move, breathe, even blink. It was dark, and so, so cold... And yet, out of nowhere, a little flash of warmth. The once frozen statue, sculpted to have his eyes open, staring blindly ahead for all time, suddenly blinked. He was staring at a room, a studio of some sort. It was messy, art materials and a strange white dust (the marble he was created from) settling over ever available surface. What... What? Where was he? His limbs tingled as rushes of unfamiliar warmth suddenly overcame his body, starting from his chest and expanding outwards until the feeling faded from his fingertips. This place... It didn't look familiar. The statue suddenly shook his head, honey blonde hair falling freely in his face. Where in the world was he? Wasn't he supposed to be... Somewhere? A home? He felt so disoriented. The statue searched his mind, trying to find some sort of memory. Francis. The name Francis Bonnefoy... It sounded familiar, so he made it his own.

Gazing around the room in wonder, he noted someone standing near him, looking much shorter than he really was due to the rather large pedestal Francis was carved upon. The Frenchman, meeting those clover green eyes with a curious tilt of his head, sat down crosslegged.
"Bonjour." he greeted, staring at him with a look between wonder and confusion. "Where am I?"

"I’m just popular."

France

[Wolfborg007]

XxXxXx Arthur Kirkland/ England xXxXxX

Arthur watched as the statue slowly gained a living hue to its pallor, and seeing the long, flowing hair gaining a golden sheen to it.
The Brit fell back, a gasp caught in his throat as he looked upon the man.
Wouldn't the spirits have such a humor as to curse him with a Frenchman?
Falling backwards, leaning on his palms behind him, he gazed up at the statue.
"Wh-what?" he asked, "Y-you're in L-London..."
He could barely keep his mouth closed as his jaw found a place open with shock.
Perhaps his brothers were right... He had lost his bloody mind...

x x x

[Tori_Akemori]

Francis Bonnefoy
"I’m not a whore."


{{OOC; n/a }}
Francis stretched his legs, letting them dangle off of the pedestal as he stared down at the Englishman. What was up with that funny accent...? And why did he seem so surprised? "London?" Francis repeated, the word sounding strange in his mouth. London, London... It sounded so familiar, but he couldn't place what it was. A city of some sort, he knew that much, but where? He shrugged it off. Oh well. He'd find out soon enough, oui? Francis jumped off of the stand, landing neatly on his feet as he bent over to examine the Englishman. "Who are you? And why do you have a weird accent?" he asked, reaching forward and touching Arthur's hair. "You have punk hair."

"I’m just popular."

France

[Wolfborg007]

XxXxXx Arthur Kirkland/ England xXxXxX

Arthur looked up, seeing the man towering over him. It made him feel even smaller... or the statue was giant...
Either way, it was unnerving.
Though, hearing the statue... or rather the creation speak, was making him question his sanity more and more.
"I-I'm Arthur... Arthur Kirkland... and my accent isn't weird... it's British..." he tried to explain, "And there's nothing wrong with my bloody hair."
He hated when people made fun of his hair... he was a gentleman, dammit!
An artist, yes... but a gentleman all the same!

x x x

[Tori_Akemori]

Francis Bonnefoy
"I’m not a whore."


{{OOC; n/a }}
Francis bent closer to the Brit so that they were staring eye to eye, crouching just over his waist. "British?" Again, it sounded familiar, like a memory nagging just in the back of his head... Oh well. "Your hair doesn't look bloody to me." The Frenchman ruffled Arthur's sandy blonde hair at that, feeling the silky strands. His hair was nice and soft... "And what's with the surprised look on your face? You look like you've seen a ghost." Francis was so curious about everything. Why was he here? Where was he before? How did he get here? He glanced back at the ornately carved pedestal then back at the Brit beneath him, curiousity shining in his azure eyes.

"I’m just popular."

France

[Wolfborg007]

XxXxXx Arthur Kirkland/ England xXxXxX

Arthur blushed furiously feeling the man touch his hair.
"It's an expression..." he muttered, "And if you don't mind my saying... you're a statue... I... I don't know how you can be speaking to me right now... Maybe you're a figment of my imagination... I don't know..."
He practically found himself talking to himself, but either way, it was disorientating, and awkward as hell.
He turned away slightly, trying not to notice the obvious lack of clothing covering the man's body.

x x x

[Tori_Akemori]

Francis Bonnefoy
"I’m not a whore."


{{OOC; n/a }}
Francis moved his hand to rest on the Brit's cheek, feeling a little flash of wonder at the warmth. "You're turning red." he observed, an amused smile curling his lips. Wait... A statue...? His smile faded at that, and he tilted his head to the side in confusion. "A statue? I'm not a statue. I'm as real as you are, oui?" He certainly didn't feel like a statue. It felt more like he had been asleep for a long, long time and he had finally woke up. Maybe he had amnesia, and then fell into a coma, or something. But if that was the case, why was he in a studio, in London, no less? He thought he was supposed to be in Paris... He nodded at that. Oui, Paris was his home. He was sure of it, despite the fact that he didn't know whether he had a house or not. Noticing how Arthur looked away, Francis glanced down at himself. Oh. He was naked. Oh well. He appeared completely unconcerned by the fact, leaning closer to the Englishman as if the closer he got, the more sense this situation made.

"I’m just popular."

France

[Wolfborg007]

XxXxXx Arthur Kirkland/ England xXxXxX

Arthur nearly felt the man's breath down his neck, and every hair of his stood on end.
He reached out a hand, trying to push the man from leaning against him, or worse... laying on top of him.
"Please... let's get you something to wear before we do anything." he stammered dumbly, "But of course you're a statue... I created you... with my own two hands..."
Or at least he thought he did... he was becoming less and less aware of that fact as the seconds ticked by.

x x x

[Tori_Akemori]

Francis Bonnefoy
"I’m not a whore."


{{OOC; n/a }}
Francis stared down at Arthur, feeling yet another wave of confusion. He... Created him...? Somehow, that just didn't seem right. He straightened up, turning his gaze across the room. "I don't feel like a statue..." he said, although a bit uncertainly. A statue come back to life? Wasn't that a myth of some sort? The Frenchman shook his head, frowning deeply. It didn't make much sense to him... Glancing down at Arthur, he leaned down and took his hand, feeling the roughened, calloused skin. Created by some Brit... That seemed too strange to be true.

"I’m just popular."

France

[Wolfborg007]

XxXxXx Arthur Kirkland/ England xXxXxX

Arthur watched the man through dilated eyes as he touched his hand... something so innocent and intimate about the gesture made the Brit blush further.
His creation...come to life...
Geez, how was he going to sell it now?
He shook the thought from his head.
Money was the least of his problems right now...
Right now, he had another man living in his home... who seemed to have no idea of where he was...
It was like a bloody horror novel...

x x x

[Tori_Akemori]

Francis Bonnefoy
"I’m not a whore."


{{OOC; n/a }}
Francis rose to his feet, dragging the Englishman with him. Maybe he was dreaming. Oui, that seemed right. A dream that he was a statue turned human created by a random Brit. At least the dream was pleasant, at least so far. He took Arthur's other hand in his own, the feel of the man's rough skin beneath his all too strange. Honestly, he wasn't too sure whether to believe he was created by Arthur or not. His first insticts said that he wasn't, that he was real and completely human, but a small part of him nagged at the possibility. The thought made his head hurt... He heaved a sigh. This was too weird...

"I’m just popular."

France

[Wolfborg007]

XxXxXx Arthur Kirkland/ England xXxXxX

He followed the man, unsure of his intentions.
It was all so...surreal.
He stood, face to face with the man, feeling his hands being touched and squeezed.
Arthur looked up at his creation... every inch of him was exactly as he remembered... the way he visualized him in his head... and carved for years.
It was weird... he was so familiar to the man... so well-known, yet it was so odd and so strange, he felt like he didn't know him at all.
And honestly, he didn't.
What had he been doing for the past few years?
He worked so hard to create something that was strange and unknown to him.
Why did life hate him so?

x x x

[Tori_Akemori]

Francis Bonnefoy
"I’m not a whore."


{{OOC; n/a }}
Francis finally glanced up to meet Arthur's eyes, staring deeply into those dark clover depths. So... Apperently, this was the man who had created him. Suddenly, he wanted to know everything about him. What he liked, what he hated, why he bothered to sculpt him in the first place... It must have taken a long time; Francis could only see so much of himself, but if he really was sculpted, the creator took a painstaking attention to detail. But it that was the fact, then Arthur must be extremely skilled. So why spend so much time on a sculpture? Did he have any family? He suddenly felt sad for the Englishman. Maybe he didn't have anyone. Maybe he was just lonely, and needed someone to be there for him, to take care of him. Poor Arthur... "What now...?" he asked quietly, gazing deeply into the Brit's eyes.

"I’m just popular."

France

[Wolfborg007]

XxXxXx Arthur Kirkland/ England xXxXxX

He caught the French statue staring at him, and Arthur trembled nervously.
"Now what...Hmm... well, we'll get you dressed, then... I suppose we'll have to take it from there, won't we?" he asked, giving an encouraging smile.
The Brit could only imagine what was going through the man's mind... what he was thinking about.
He must've been awfully confused and concerned on his own existence... maybe even about Arthur himself... not that Arthur was all that interesting.
So he could make things out of marble and draw things... he really didn't seem much of it... but he supposed that's what happened when you lived alone.
Ever since his sons left to live lives of their own, he just lived everyday the same.
But he couldn't complain.. at least he was still alive... though a visit from his boys would be nice every so often...

x x x