AN: Hello! Sorry this took so long. I'm away for what feels like a week or so and it ends up having been a month. Here's Francis's chapter, finally. It took me a little bit to find a song or two for him.
Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to... well I think you can guess. And the song Je suis un homme belongs to Zazie.
Song lyrics( little different then the English translation I went by):
Youtube with the translation I used: watch?v=MpnM6Lfy5Jg
And, finally, the amazing video I found the song on: watch?v=od9Y5dejf9w
The room was lost in noise, a much needed break granted several minutes prior. The nations were now doing whatever they pleased so long as it wouldn't get them kicked out of the building, and so long as they didn't pester Ludwig too much.
Francis huffed softly in amusement, glancing around. Some of the nations had made the decision to leave the room completely, an option he was considering. Those remaining- namely the North Americans, a few Africans, and a handful of Europeans- were chatting amiably. Seeing nothing else to do, the Frenchman stood and made his way to the break room, smiling at the few nations he passed.
When he entered the room and the noise level from the meeting died down, he saw the break room was mostly empty, though he did spot a very familiar Englishman by the coffee maker. That caused his smile to widen ever so much. This was as good of an opportunity as any to mess with him.
"Bonjour, Anglettere."
Arthur stiffened and he could practically hear the nonverbal groan, which was very satisfying. The man turned, his emerald eyes narrowed, one hand still on the mug under the coffee maker. "Must you speak to me in that frog language of yours?"
Francis laughed lightly and walked over to his rival, leaning against the counter. "Oui, especially if you continue to call me a frog."
The brit snorted softly, rolling his eyes. For a few moments he didn't reply, as he usually did when he was annoyed, but after a couple of seconds he gave in. "You've been a frog for ages. I don't think anything short of a miracle would change that."
Silence followed that statement, though it wasn't as tense as it normally was. He supposed the meeting, less chaotic than usual, had something to do with that. Still, after a few seconds Francis grew bored. He glanced towards the machine, finally making the connection that Arthur was actually waiting for something to brew. He raised an eyebrow. "Coffee? Is Alfred rubbing off on you?"
Arthur pointedly ignored the question as steaming water dribbled out of the coffee maker. When the cup, which was not so subtly displaying a union jack, was filled, he turned to the left and grabbed a tea bag. "I would rather drink dirt with water than his coffee."
As brazen as ever, Arthur… The two were silent again while the Brit stirred his tea and Francis took the time to listen to distant conversations. He thought he could hear Alfred and Mathieu laughing about something, though he had no idea as to what that could be. Maybe it was one of their shows or something… He should probably ask the Canadian something, though he didn't worry too much about when. He was sure the younger nation would agree and he knew they could work out the matter in less than a minute. He also caught sight of Antonio, who didn't seem to be doing anything in particular. He would have to talk with him after.
"Any reason you decided to bother me?"
Francis blinked momentarily, his ocean blue eyes flicking over to meet forest green. He shrugged. "Non, not really."
"Hmm…" Arthur took a sip of his tea, though he frowned a moment later and set it on the counter to continue to steep. "I would have said you finally made the decision to sing something."
He blinked again, raising an eyebrow. "Really?" When the Englishman met his gaze, he sighed, making it a bit overdramatic. "Alright, oui, I was planning on it."
With a curious tone, the man next to him asked offhandedly, "Anything I would know?"
At that, Francis laughed softly. "Considering it is in 'that frog language' of mine… I doubt it."
Arthur half rolled his eyes and grabbed his cup of tea once more. He made no move to test it, instead glancing in his direction. "Yes, I suppose... I'll just have to sit through it like everyone else." He glanced through the open door, not watching anything in particular, listening to the chatter as he had been moments before.
Francis glanced at the clock and saw that he only had around five minutes until the break ended. He did still want to talk with Antonio. Leaning off the counter, he began to make his way towards the door. "Au revoir, Angleterre." He was about to walk out the door when Arthur spoke again.
"Hey... Francis."
That caused him to turn. Arthur rarely called him by his actual name, even less so when they were having a civil conversation. "…Yes, Arthur?"
Th brit met his eyes, his expression serious. If he were going to say something revealing he would have looked embarrassed, so it couldn't be that bad. Voice even, if a little knowing, he said, "Even if you're a frog… I don't think you'll croak."
Francis blinked a few times, momentarily taken aback. While Arthur acted as if he hadn't said anything at all, the Frenchman stood there. He supposed that that was a silent thank you for helping Arthur finally get on better terms with Alfred, but it also was an actual, honest to God, compliment. What was the world coming to? He nodded in his direction, smiling slightly. "Merci, mon ami."
He could have sworn Arthur sounded amused when he responded. "Just let me drink my tea in peace, you frog."
Chuckling, he nodded and gave a non-committed wave in Arthur's general direction, knowing neither of them would mention this little chat for some time, if at all. He spotted Toni again as he walked out and joined his friend, immediately finding something to chat about.
"So that's a wrap, and, by the way, I think we should all have a special plan for the zombie apocalypse. Just sayin'."
Everyone collectively rolled their eyes as Alfred walked away from the projector, some more amused rather than annoyed. It was obvious the younger nation had gotten his hands on more post- apocalyptic books or video games. They knew the effects, and the underlying paranoia, would probably wear off in a week or so, maybe a few days if they were lucky.
Francis glanced at Ludwig, as he had already raised his hand, or otherwise requested to sing, a few minutes ago. The German nodded, still not looking happy about his predicament. He flashed the younger nation a small smile, though he knew it would most likely irritate him further rather than calm him down, and pulled out his phone. He could sense the eyes on him, though he was not bothered by them in the slightest.
He did really enjoy this song, though he had had a little trouble choosing, especially between his other alternative. It was really a matter of which one he wanted to show first, which the other nations would take in better. That had been the one he had chosen, and he supposed the other one could wait until the next time.
Resting his phone on the table, Francis pulled up one of his music apps and found the desired song, smiling slightly. He pressed play without hesitation, sitting straighter in his chair.
The beat began, a bass drum coming in with a series of hits. Those hits actually reminded him of a heartbeat, one that he knew he could relate to; the beat of something larger, though not something of more importance. It went on for several measures and he thought of the lyrics, glancing around the room at all of the curious eyes looking his way. He smiled wider, sending them a look that patiently said, 'You'll see.'
An underlying note added to the drum beat and he knew the lyrics would begin a few seconds after. He took a breath, shutting his eyes, his head nodding slightly to the beat. He sang softly, with purpose, "Je suis un homme de cro-magnon, Je suis un singe ou un poisson.." He barely paused, smiling knowingly. The meaning to the song came very early, even if mentioned briefly.
"Sur la terre, en toute saison, Moi je tourne en rond, je tourne en rond…" Yes, he was, wasn't he… The music continued for a few beats and he smiled a little more, judging the reactions of those around him. They were a bit amusing, though most of them were only curious at this point. He took a breath, continuing, "Je suis un seul puis des millions, Je suis un homme au coeur de lion…"
He glanced up, smiling despite himself. "A la guerre, en toute saison, Moi je tourne en rond, je tourne en rond…" Now the reactions were beginning to become more varied, some displaying confusion at his song choice, while others were more understanding to the words he had just said. Again, there were a few beats of just the drum and the underlying notes and he tapped his fingers against his knee to the rhythm, going on to the next verse. His voice was smooth, almost misleading.
"Je suis un homme plein d'ambitions," Ah, yes, wasn't he..? Though, that was more in years past, when he had been trying to manage an empire. "Belle voiture et belle maison-" his voice shifted a little, as if he were leading them through the imagery. "-Dans la chambre, dans le salon, Moi je tourne en rond, je tourne en rond…" There was no pause this time and he simply continued, the next line making him think of a few not so pleasant memories, though he let them come all the same.
"Je fais l'amour et la révolution, Je fais le tour de la question-" Ah, here was the line… He smirked a little. "J'avance, avance à reculons-" As he suspected, a few nations snorted or laughed, the loudest being Arthur. He rolled his eyes, sending an amused glance at the Englishman sitting a few seats away. "Oui je tourne en rond, je tourne en rond…"
And now came the chorus, adding in new rhythms behind the ever present drum beat, showing there was a little more to the subject than what could be seen and heard. He made his voice go a bit higher, the words form a little smoother, and looked out at the other nations. He had a bit of a message to say with this… just a bit. "Tu vois, j'suis pas un homme," again, he smirked, singing a tad louder, "Je suis le roi de l'illusion…"
Over the centuries he had shown many different parts of himself, some of which had been fake. Others he only wished could have been so. The deceiver, the caretaker, the romantic, the big brother, the pervert… He knew which ones he really was, but the others had to try to find out, had to actually look behind his degenerate behavior.
"Au fond qu'on me pardonne, Je suis le roi, le roi des cons..." Again, he heard Arthur huff and flicked his hand in his general direction good naturedly, trying to tell him to be quiet.
There was a brief pause before he continued, returning to the original rhythm, "J'ai fait le monde à ma façon, Coulé dans l'or et le béton…" Ah, yes, his empire. As lovely as those times were, they were over; sunken in history.
As he went to the next line his smile fell, replaced with a small frown. He shut his eyes for a moment, lost in the lyrics and their emotions. His hand migrated over his heart for a moment, meaning what he was saying. "Corps en cage et coeur en prison…" It really did feel like it sometimes… "Moi je tourne en rond, je tourne en rond…"
Again, there was no pause, and he continued, the silence feeling heavier now. "Assis devant ma télévision-" He looked up, meeting the looks sent his way, whatever they may be. He smiled again, though this one was a bit sarcastic, a bit condescending. "Je suis de l'homme la négation…" Heh, yes, he was the opposite of man, doomed to look like one, to feel like one. "Pur produit de consommation
Mais mon compte est bon, mon compte est bon…"
The chorus came again, though this time it didn't sound as bright. Oh well, that would change soon enough. "Tu vois, j'suis pas un homme, Je suis le roi de l'illusion, Au fond qu'on me pardonne
Je suis le roi, le roi des cons... " His smile grew, his voice became a little harsher.
"C'est moi le maître du feu, le maître du jeu, Le maître du monde..." He chuckled softly, his voice becoming nearly apologetic in an instant. "et vois ce que j'en ai fait." He glanced towards Mathieu briefly before his eyes shifted around the room, his voice rising in volume. "Une terre glacée, une terre brûlée… La terre des hommes que les hommes abandonnent!"
The harsher tone to the music faded and he relaxed, taking a long breath, listening as the notes became sweet, sincere. His voice took on the same appearance, though it was genuine now, a little of his smile returning. After a few measures the lyrics began again. He sang, meeting the other nation's gazes, as if answering their silent questions, "Je suis un homme au pied du mur… Comme une erreur de la nature, Sur la terre, sans d'autres raisons, Moi je tourne en rond, je tourne en rond…" Another beat hit and he continued, the next verse similar, parallel. It made him feel a little more complete, a little more comfortable with the fact that he was the vessel for an entire people.
"Je suis un homme et je mesure, Toute l'horreur de ma nature, Pour ma peine, ma punition, Moi je tourne en rond, je trourne en rond…" It may be a sentence that was doomed to be his, but it was one that he enjoyed… it was something he was proud of; to look out for his people, to watch over them. And he knew that the others felt the same way.
He glanced at Mathieu, his mon petite, and nodded. The Canadian nodded in return, smiling slightly, and sang while he repeated the last verse, "Au fond… qu'on me pardonne..Je suis le roi… le roi des cons…"
Francis's smile softened and he gave an appreciative nod, singing softly to finish, "Moi je tourne en rond, je trourne en rond…"
The music continued for a few moments, winding down, and he couldn't help but repeat the line. He held it out for a second or two before the music faded, along with his voice. Moments later he paused the app before it could skip to the next thing he had planned and waited, watching the other nations curiously. Part of him was nervous, but he told that part to wait; to shut up.
Everything was silent. The stares met his own, some probably trying to comprehend that he was actually not a buffoon with some insatiable sex drive, when… They clapped. It started as one, maybe two, hands and then it grew louder, enveloping the room a new kind of noise.
He smiled more, nearly grinned, and they grinned with him.
AN: Alright so... Thank you for reading! As usual, I apologize for any errors I may have missed or any accent marks, etc that were left out.
I hope I wrote Francis okay, because (little fun fact about my regret here): I used to hate Francis. Like... a lot. I don't even really remember why exactly, but I think it was how he came off as with all of the dramatics and stuff. After a while though I just... looked a bit past that (fics kind of helped with that, along with one of my really awesome friends) and I started to see him as a really great character who actually took his role as "the worlds big brother" seriously and wanted love for everyone. This is kind like my, 'Sorry I hated you' chapter... and I really just wanted him to sing this.
So... um... yeah. There's that. I'm gonna go, like, hide in a corner now and probably kick myself for the above paragraph. In the words of Alfred: Thats a wrap and I hope you all have a plan for the coming apocalypse.