@ asgardeventide &... everywhere

[unionjackass]

Miss Mundane--

Seeing as you're unable to grasp how awful you are in every facet of this little hobby, it's time I informed you of that; among other things.

You're so awful that the list of grievances I might otherwise have produced simply isn't worth my time and effort.

Chin up and carry on or--and I do hope this is the option you choose--cut your losses. My patience hangs by a thread. For your sake and--God, for the sake of everybody else--make your decision soon.

Comments

[edle_gestalt]

You're likely being harder on her than need be. Why would you rather she didn't carry on? Don't know about you, but I don't like living in an unhappy headspace.

[unionjackass]

The idea is to cease existing in that unhappy headspace altogether. I've no interest in the philosophical ramifications. [He cares; England shifts, chewing the inside of his mouth. Comforting someone who is female and for all intents and purposes a kind of captor just... doesn't work for him.]

--At least she could turn what energy she's got left into something more constructive.

[sororite]

Vraiment? My mundane believes she's rather talented.

[unionjackass]

Talent and functionality don't always run hand in hand.

[sororite]

You should praise her talent then! Encourage, don't simply scold. Ladies can be delicate about these things!

[unionjackass]

She's not a crystal vase, Marianne. I believe she needs the motivational boost only a proper talking to can provide.

[sororite]

You really are terrible at dealing with women, aren't you...

[unionjackass]

That has nothing to do with this. [A W K W A R D P A U S E]

A-and she told me to tell you, madame, she is not delicate.

[mayshereign]

My mundane wants me to punch you for being so rude to her friend.



I won't, but she wants me to very much.

[unionjackass]

--I'm not being rude. This is entirely necessary!

[Why would you punch your brother, look at him, you love him Rosemary.

(unsure) ]

[mayshereign]

She doesn't agree.

[Do you see her punching? She isn't punching.

Yet.]

[unionjackass]

I don't care what she agrees with. She may have good intentions but that's hardly justification for violence.

[mayshereign]

We're not being violent. She's just imagining being so and relishing it.

[unionjackass]

[mutters something about how that sort of woman would be Rosemary's mun.]

[beautifulbaguette]

Since when has whining about "grievances" not been worth your time? It's practically your job, after all.

[unionjackass]

Oh that's the pot calling the kettle black if it ever did.

[beautifulbaguette]

Me? Whining? [Scoffs.] I do not think so, rosbif.

[unionjackass]

Don't you have another strike to lead, Francis? [giving him a look.]

[beautifulbaguette]

Non.... not until Thursday~

[He lives in a head full of Englands and other sorts of Arthurs--such looks have no effect on him.]

[amant]

Your patience is exceedingly limited at every turn, mon ami. Perhaps it is, as they say, you and not her--

[cheerful fuck today]

[unionjackass]

[--WHY ARE YOU SPEAKING TO ME-- no, no Arthur. Breathe.

England breathes. Sighs. Scratches at an arm and shifts on his feet.]

Didn't ask you.

[amant]

[This is impressive of you, England! France is amused by your efforts at keeping calm and ah, carrying on.]

You never do, cher. That never stopped me; why should you be surprised?

[unionjackass]

Didn't say I was surprised either. [He didn't. For the record, he's not.]

Problem's her though. Not like your mun doesn't know. As I said to the others responding here, somebody's got to tell her the truth without some rubbish filter sugarcoating everything. It's helping, can't deny that.

[amant]

You attract more flies with honey than vinegar-- and you are one oily individual, non? [Look at all these puns. You probably want Subway now, don't you, Arthur? Considering McDonalds and all. Forgive the food puns though; throat clear] We all have our personal endeavors to handle, Angleterre. No use being a brat about it! [/scoffing]

/spams lovingly with all the Frances

[paysdelamour]

Oh, pauvre cher... [He clucks his tongue.] Grumpy without your tea, are we?