forum Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Started December 04, 2018 by @KalamariCakes

tune

"Well, to myself I'm not a noteworthy man," he commented.

“Well, to myself I’m not a noteworthy woman,” she retorted playfully.

Yes to binding )

Skip to when he gets to camp?)

Ill start)

~~~

The man that stayed in camp and helped the soldiers regarding health–his name was Peter–took Francis from Pierre's grasp to bring him under the shade of his tent, which was larger and better supported than the others. He let Pierre follow, while he brought Francis to lie on a flimsy cot made from a wood frame and stretched canvas.

Pierre trailed after, undeniably worried for the boy who he had somehow found under his protection.

Peter brought out water and a rag. He wet the rag, rest it over Francis's forehead. The black-haired doctor squinted slowly, noticing.. How… Feminine, this kid was.

Pierre stood at the side of the bed, his eyes flickering over Francis's fragile form. Poor guy…. shit, I can't watch him fight in the war. I can't watch him get hurt.

"Can I have a moment?" Peter asked Pierre, suspicion and curiosity cast over his slaty eyes.

Pierre's brow furrowed with worry lines, but he nodded and slipped from the tent to wait outside.

He could hear Peter murmuring to himself with bewilderment.

Concern overtook him, and he called to the man inside. “Is everything alright?”

How old is pierre?)

"Yes, you can come back in.." Peter spoke. "Were you aware…?" He hinted at the binding, the clear indicators of Francis's actual gender.

(21. I can change his age if you want)

Pierre stared at the bindings around Francis’s chest for a moment before tearing his eyes away, guilt crushing him. He shouldn’t have looked at something the boy didn’t want him to see without his permission— he’d done it once with Edonine and regretted it. “No, I did not,” he replied quietly to Peter.

"She's got makeup on," he noted, "like.. A carpets worth." He laughed sparsely.

“He,” Pierre almost spat, clenching his fists at his side.

Peter shifted his jaw in acquiescence, he knew better than to aggravate. "My bad." He didn't wipe it off, then. "Does the General know?"

“No.” he said shortly. “Is he going to find out?”

"Not if I can help it," Peter brushed a hand over the kid's crudely cut brown hair, checked his pulse. "I'll be right back.."

Pierre nodded, his relief evident by the way his shoulders sagged. But there was a determination in his expression; he wasn’t going to let anyone set a finger on this boy.

Peter left. Once he did, Francis carefully opened his sharp, yellowish-green eyes, pulled down his shirt in an abrupt movement.

XD oh boyo )

(Lol yeah get ready for him to go majorly Dad on Francis)

Pierre sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, reaching forwards to lay a hand on Francis’s forehead, which was burning. “How are you feeling?”

His voice was shaking. He let the girlishness seep into it– oh, he sounded just like Edonine it hurt–and on the other hand, maybe the voice of all women were slowly becominf Edonines. The more he missed her the more the world mocked her presence. "Cold,"

“Here.” He drew the covers up to the boy’s chin, a fatherly instinct taking over his body. “Emotionally, how are you feeling?”

"Like shit…" He murmured, averting eye contact.

“That’s understandable.” Pierre unhooked a flask from his belt and offered it to Francis. “Here, have some water.” Then, after a pause, he bit his lip. “How often do you have to change your binding? I’ve got some fabric in my tent that you could use.”

He took several vigorous sips of water. "Um… I.. Don't.. Know," he half laughed.

Pierre nodded, worry leaking into his voice. “Peter won’t tell anyone, I don’t think. Neither will I.”

Francis's eyes softened, he leaned up to hug him.