coruscato:

Edmund pulled his phone out to cover his speaker, setting down his pen. “Thomas speaking, can I help you?” He nodded along as he watched the groups that milled about in front of him. “Ah, I didn’t think you’d get back to me so soon. Good to hear things are well.” The other agent sat outside a cafe relatively close by said cathedral, occasionally taking notes next to his open book. It was such a lovely day, shame to waste it cooped up.

“Mm, yes, I think we should meet up to compare notes–Oh, today? Of course, I’m sure that can be arranged. I’ll meet you there then.” He paused again, picking up his pen to tap it against his chin. Approach him? “I think that question can wait till the next faculty meeting, don’t you?”

He raised an eyebrow at Edmund, or Thomas’, reply. “But he’s so elusive and we’ve been hunting him down for ages. Now he’s finally down there, it would be a great opportunity to corner him now. Prepared, of course.” 

“Otherwise, good. Tell me if there are anything else I need to know. I’ll meet you there in about 15 minutes.” André hence began the effort to crawl in the air vent’s opposite direction. 

Shit I’ve Said To My Cat — sentence starters

“ what’s in your mouth? ”
“ what are you eating? ”
“ you’re going to fall. ”
“ why do you always run straight for the door? ”
“ excuse me, that’s my foot. ”
“ you need to relax. ”
“ if I give you food, will you relax? ”
“ there’s nothing in that box for you! ”
“ you know you have a bed. ”
“ I know you’re only pretending to hate me, I see you. ”
“ get down from there before you hurt yourself! ”
“ you are not at all graceful. ”
“ I kept telling you that you were going to fall, and you wouldn’t listen and look at what happens. ”

I wish they could’ve see what I saw
The stars that shines in their eyes
The passion beating in their hearts
The worth they hold

STRANGE to look upon my past
      I could HARDLY recognize the stranger who has my face

damnprussia:

“Oh, I would love to see the Bastille,” Gilbert said with wide eyes and a grin. “And I want to go to the Lourve. I really haven’t been there to see it since…” he paused. “Well I can’t remember. I was in Paris in 1946….1947, but, you know, we all weren’t really there to sight-see,” he said sarcastically, but there was an edge of humour there. “So It really must be the 19th century when I really was able to, I suppose enjoy it, and I’m sure it’s so very different now.”

But Gilbert perked up again at the thought of an opera theatre. “Oh, you know what….I do love an opera, or any kind of theatre. I’ve only had to watch the Soviet ones and, you know….they’re good, some of them, but they’re very dull after a while. I would like to see what the western world has created in that time,” he said, grinning. “May we go? i’ll buy your ticket, however much it costs. Recommend something and we’ll see it.”

“You would like to?” It surprised André that Gilbert was a fan of the arts too. He drummed his fingers on his forearm. “From the looks of it, it seems like it’s been nearly a century since you’ve been there. Visiting the Louvre… yes, perhaps we can do that.”

André laughed nervously at the mention of Soviet operas. “We know who to blame for that.” But he realised Gilbert won’t get the reference about Lenin and the Paris Commune, so André quickly added: “er… Bertolt Brecht. Got to love all those Marxist ideas, no?”

At Gilbert’s offer, André blinked and tilted his head. “Pardon? Oh. Oh, no, I’m the host, I can pay. As for good productions, it’s a good season this year. La Cage aux Folles is hilarious even though I recommend watching the film first. Into the Woods is a satire of fairy tales and very delightful as well. And…” André rubbed the back of his head, “there’s also this musical based off of a fellow’s poem anthology. I think it’s called Cats?”

damnprussia:

Gilbert still stared at him, his expression unchanging. Gilbert, not in love with work? What was this some Bizarro-world? “Well, I suppose nowadays I’m just working out of spite,” he said with a small laugh. “In the government, that is. A bunch of incompetent sops, the lot of them.” He paused. “But, you know, I work in the Air Force, too - I love that. I love flying, and training the new recruits. That brings me much joy. They often have to kick me out. I do charity work, too, with the Prussian Heritage Foundation - that is very enjoyable.”

He paused and stopped on their walk, looking down at his shoes, hands shoved in his overcoat pockets, before looking off in the distance. “It’s really not the same, though – as our real work. Being a nation, you know.” He closed his eyes slowly. “I don’t think we could ever love your job too much. That’s impossible. Your job is to be you, and to take care of every human being that gives you life… there really is no other feeling like it. Standing exactly where you belong on this Earth, surrounded by people who love you, who identify with you, who know only you.” He looked back at Andre with a small smile. “I loved that work far too much. I loved being Prussia. And I would give anything -anything - to have that feeling again, and to be able to do that work again. Even for just one day.”

He snorted. “The government had always been a competition over who has the bigger dick, anyway. But hey, someone has to keep them in check.” 

André blinked as he listened to Gilbert’s monologue. “Yeah… yeah, yeah, I see…” the words came out under his breath while he nodded. The only reason André liked what Gilbert said was that he brought up morals similar to André’s, of course, nothing else. André could only smile sadly and glance at the ground as he rubbed the back of his own neck. He loved his people, too, but was never able to fulfil the favour. Granted, it was easier for a nation to take care of their people than a city, since they had armies and arable land that can help them live independently. André was never that lucky. But hey, perhaps it’s simply just life.

“I miss the times before cities got so involved in world politics. You know?” André confessed. “Granted, I didn’t have much power over any decisions by the heads of state. But being a city has its perks. You start to recognise old and new families who come and go, you become part of a closely-knit community, and you watch peoples’ lives like the passing of the seasons. It’s sad to watch them pass, but their lives are so glorious and filled with joy that it was alright. It’s a little more scattered now, especially with so many more people living here and all the tourists. How do you ever manage globalisation…” he frowned. “Oh. Right. I’m sorry.” André inhaled a hiss, then saw that he was still clutching onto his cigarette packet. “Cigarette?” He offered.