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DarkNyoFrance

'ave a sip of wine, non?
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BlahBlah- ArthurP2Drabble by NarbigLudwig, literature

Deviation Spotlight

  • July 14
  • France
  • Deviant for 12 years
  • She / Her
Badges
Super Llama: Llamas are awesome! (11)
My Bio
!!WARNING: Dark!FemFrance!!


Be warned, men and women, girls and boys... this Francoise is not quite the usual you would expect of our lovable, perverted, Fem!France.


APPEARANCE WISE


:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: Still withholds flawless looks, which she will attempt to use to lure a lover to her bed. Her figure is slim, sometimes she often 'forgets' meals, or claims she is in too much of a hurry to eat, especially in past times where she tried modeling for a few years. ((!!DISCOVERED HINT!!)) Despite this petite quality, her womanly curves still flourish. Her cup size is an estimated D or DD.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: She has vivid, bright violet eyes filled with depth and mysteries. Her hair is a gleaming soft natural!!! blonde shade, which usually has neat waves in it without the help of product. Occasionally Francoise will straighten her locks, but not often as she hates the 'unnatural feel'.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: She takes great care in barely ever leaving the house without makeup, and even when at home she takes care to wear layers of it when expecting visitors. Only those she's extremely comfortable with will she strip away this mask of foundation and product for. Francoise is particularly partial to red nail polish and bright red lips stick in particular. Blue eye shadow and black massacre/eyeliner are also 'must-have' makeup fixes for this trendy Frenchwoman.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: She will never be seen in tacky old fashions, but sometimes wears her older dresses on special occasions. Only the red cloak is sometimes incorperated into her every day wear. Her everyday modern outfits are edgy and always stylish, some examples here; darknyofrance.deviantart.com/a…
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred:On the surface she'll pretend she's fine and happy, but it's a mask she's built over the years to protect those she cares about.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred:If you look very closely, there is a faint, pale scar which spans across the back of her neck until in line with her ears. ((!!HINT FOR PAST EVENT!!))

PERSONALITY POINTS


:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: If her chosen partners don't watch their steps, their nights with Francoise might just be their last.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: Francoise is on a path of revenge, to get back the people and nations who have wronged her in the past, she cares not for using her body and hospitality as her main weapons against her foes.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: Takes rejection harshly, because underlying the never-ending lust and passion she puts across, there is a deep desire to find that one-and-only who won't see her as just another woman to lie with.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: Also, she's prone to jealously, if the current man or woman of her affections is seen just too often in someone else's company... well, perhaps a nice little bottle of poisoned wine will arrive on the 'third-wheel's' doorstep.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: Her family, especially Canada (Fem or normal), have a good chance of calming her down. Her genuine happiness comes from fawning maternally over her little children. She feels quite wronged in the past from when England 'took' Canada away from her. ((!!HINT FOR PAST EVENT!!))
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: On another note, take caution in calling her anything along the lines of a prostitute. If she doesn't find a way to dispose of you immediately, you might just live long enough to find out the story which began to twist her mentality. ((!!HINT FOR PAST EVENT!!))
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: She has an extreme fear of showing her darker intent to those she's grown close too.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: She will not hesitate to flirt with any man or woman she deems worthy of her attention, however, she has slightly more class than her male-counterpart and stands firm on the right she has to chose whether she wants more than to just toy around with you.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: Ultimately, she is still a romantic deep down in that heart and those deep violet eyes of hers. There is nothing she desires more than one day finding a real romance that won't flicker or dissolve before her very eyes.

EXTRA SNIPPETS


:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: Wine, baths in rose petals, brimming over fashion magazines and sewing her own clothes all are ways she eases stress.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: However, to bring about stress on the Frenchwoman, merely mention WW2, The French Revolution, Joan of Arc or Military Defeats. ((!!SO MANY HINTS FOR PAST EVENTS!!))
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: Another calming activity she enjoys is hand tending and picking the roses in the elaborate garden of her small apartment. At one stage in her history, she lived in a grand, large mansion, but down graded for the simple life on the outskirts of Paris. She doesn't mind that the apartment only has two bedrooms and one bathroom, the spacious living room, kitchen and dinning room are what matter to her inside, but what sold her was the perfect, large plot she could use to grow her precious signature ruby-red roses.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: In time when she is not tending to her garden, cooking or shopping, Francoise will settle down on the sofa and read for hours. Her favourite books range from graphic romance novels, to poetry and then even art books. She once had a thing for writing poetry, but over time it's flickered away with a lack of inspiration.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: She is also an avid painter and follower of the arts. Portaits are her favourite thing to paint, and at times she will drift of to her easel and paint the friend, family member, lover, or even enemy on her mind. Though some of her portraits seem to have... some very dark tonnage.
:bulletblue::bulletwhite::bulletred: Music and dance are also two things Francoise prides herself on. She has practiced ballet from a very young age, and although in the last 50 years she has slipped off in training, she thinks it's about time she threw herself into training again. Music wise, she isn't confident on any instrument in particular, but has a fondness for singing around her home or when she's out in the garden...

THE DARKER SIDE OF HER PAST


Damaging Day Job
Part 1 Discovered by: Not-Apart-of-Italy
During a time of great economic hardship for Francoise's home in very early years, a demand was placed upn the Frenchwoman to help bail out and counterweight this collapse. She tried to find a job, to throw what ever she earned and pump it back into the economy, yet even though she was a nation, in a time of seggragation of the sexes, being female made her inferior and it was impossible for her to find a job. Francoise had nearly given up hope, before being approached and asked to model, at very high and reasonable rates.
This offer was what opened her eyes to the world of fashion and developed her sense of grace and poise that she naturally holds herself with today.
However, at the time it was detrimental to the Frenchwoman. In a desprate fitful attempt to fight growing fears over her appearance, she took up smoking as an appetite supressent and did not eat for quite some time, wasting away slowly. However, not matter how skeletal the Frenchwoman got, she would not die, as being a nation prevented such mortalities.
Eventually, somehow, one day she woke up out of this path of paranoia and self destructiveness which she dwelled on without even concious knowledge, not knowing how or when she had gotten her sense back...
If only she could find the person, whose shadow figure she remembers looming, whom helped her back from the edge of suffering...
</one part remaining for complete event>

WW2
Discovered by pubngo
Upon the capture of France by Nazi Germany, Francoise was feeling utterly defeated and beaten, digusted with herself that she had not managed to fight them off that bit harder, or for that touch longer. She was kept under strict surveilance, the German's complete prisoner of war. There were moment of growing paranoia as the weeks passed of her captivity, she grew fearful that the other Allies weren't going to save her, having vivid images of them all probably sitting around and having a laugh that the 'useless ditzy frog' was finally 'out of the way'. These fears grew stronger and louder with the German's encouragement, knowing exactly how to creep into the Frenchwoman's head.
She spent weeks uable to sleep, the only thoughts keeping her from cracking under pressure was that her people were still fighting and that somewhere deep in her heart she still clung to the hope that the Allies would come for her. Francoise eventually grew into a loud, snarky prisoner, always taunting the Geman and even once snarking about how the pathetic attempt to bomb England had failed, scoring herslef very thorough beatings on many occasions.
By the time that she was finally rescued, she was hardly there, but seeing an also battle struck England rush in and help her from the prison she's been for months, a light flickered in her eyes to keep living, to not let this defeat her. They had come, despite her fears... they had gotten there, and before she'd lost her head.

</To be added as fellow nations discover through interaction with Francoise. The event/memory and person who discovered it will be listed.>

:iconrosediv1plz::iconrosediv2plz::iconrosediv2plz::iconrosediv2plz::iconrosediv2plz::iconrosediv2plz::iconrosediv2plz::iconrosediv2plz::iconrosediv3plz:

Blood is but a trickle thro’ her veins;
A tear – but only that it feigns
A look of sorrow; the sigh, she had to borrow;
To know, in acting hurt she all but reigns!

A perk of siren head to draw him in;
He melts – a waning from within.
Her clever snare: he marries with her hair.
But now the kiss - a taste of her cuisine!

She in torsion paints a torrid tale -
See her callous grin upon his wail!
- Be the torture, swallow down the pain -
His burden gone, no life must he sustain.

Revenge on Man! Her loss of trust had
Wrought an evil whored in lust:
The crafted vintage e’re the thrust
Behind her ill champagne


--------------------------------------------------
((RPer supports FemFranceXThe World. So I'm not picky~ BD
Het, Yuri, it's all good.
...However Het FrUk is my most favourite~ >w> *wink wink, nudge nudge*

And, I prefer paragraph style RP, however I'll roll with script too~))

Favourite Visual Artist
Claude Monnet
Tools of the Trade
My bare hands, mon ami's.

((...I think...

0 min read
I may be back~ c: &lt;3 Been missing RP for so long. Things might be slow, but I'm kicking them out of a complete stand-still finally~ Please be patient with me... School is really hell at the moment since it's my final year... But I will be trying to drop in more~ Mwah~ Good to be back! ...I promise the next journal will be an RP to get me back in the swing of things... Most possibly a late Valentine's Day thing))
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((...I'm feeling a little down lately, a mix of things in RL, but I'm trying to soldier on and get back to the 97 feedback messages in my inbox. Forgive me if I'm slow, and I'm putting some people priority over others, (You know who you are TurkeyDELIGHT (https://www.deviantart.com/turkeydelight)
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Even though 4 hour and 1 minute have already passed since midnight at my house, I'd like to shout it out to all your who don't get to embrass the new year just yet~ :'D It's been awesome RPing with you all this year! A whoel lot of fun... and I look forward for more brilliance to come. Hope you all have the BEST night, take the time back to look on the good things that have happened in 2011... And start to set asside your hopes and dreams for this year to be...
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He was walking down the street of Paris, telling himself that surely, he would find something to do in here if he didn't found anything out in his native home. Looking around to find a way to play or find something interesting, he heard a woman voice singing out, which made him kept looking around to find to whom the voice belonged to.
Finally seeing who the voice belonged to, it actually gave him a facial reaction. He raised just one eyebrow, not to say suprised but mostly intrigued that the singing voice actually belonged to /that/ person.
((jlkjd lI'm sorry I was so late to answer....;A; As I said, I had a lot of problems lately and all so I'm sorryyyy DX *hide*))
((Here. Have a deranged cat. *shot * ))

The Italian flicked his tail, mewing in annoyance. There was only so long he could take being a cat, and he was just about ready to give up and go threaten England to turn him back.

Only he wasn't sure how well threatening him as a cat would be.

Sighing, his shoulders slumped in exasperation. He flicked his ears, looking around. Maybe he could figure out where he was, at least.

After a few moments, he decided to try the house he was just passing. Hopefully the owner wouldn't freak out.

He jumped onto one of the window sills and mewed loudly.
A simple yet very relaxing afternoon. The sun was just about to set over the horizon in the distance. A Scot was there, in Paris, trying to arrange a reunion with an old friend. To his dismay, he, or should I say she, wasn't to be found. ...Well, quite yet anyway.

The redhead kept hands in pockets, a cancer stick perched in his pouting mouth. He'd been searching everywhere for the blonde. Where could ol' Francey pants be hiding off to? Shifting green eyes off a distance, he examined over groups of people. Still, no blonde to be found.

After a while more, the redhead decided to give it all up. With a silent sigh and the slump of shoulders, the Scot had made the decision to go treat himself to a drink. Well, why not? A bar wasn't very far off from where he was, and at the moment, it sounded wonderful.

Walking on while humming, he came across a decent looking bar. The outside at least looked promising enough. Opening the door, he stepped inside to see that it had been quite the place. A simple yet elegant setting. ...If you could consider a bar to be as so. A smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as he strode in, taking a seat in the back by a window in a small booth. He, as always, ordered a glass of scotch and ice. His most favorite.

Little did he know that the same blonde he was exploring around for was just in a booth nearby. Lifting the glass to his lips after taking the cigarette from his mouth, he rose thick eyebrows as dark eyes drifted along. Still, he was oblivious to the fact that his dear friend was there. With a shrug, the Scot kept drinking on his beverage like he would back at home.

((oh, hey.
you already know who this is.
B) hehehe.))
"Hey there Frenchy!!" He growled and walked over his bat resting on his shoulder.
Francoise's eyes sparked as she turned, resting her hands on her hips to give a distasteful frown in his dirrectection at the nickname. "...Moi name is Francoise to you America... What is it that brings you 'ere, hmn..?"
"Heh i felt like pissing some one off..." He shrugged and placed his bat beside him.