Your favorite redcoat's favorite redcoat❤️

The man sat at a table, obviously drunk

(@cathy-joseph-hayes @the-real-joseph-hayes @eleison-difiori @henry-reed @mabel-walsh

@dieechteanna @adele-antos @thatirishnurse @frenchguysoldier @william-laurens)

Henry stepped into the tent, furrowing his brow as he lay his eyes on the drunken man.

"Drinking? Again, Frederick?"

"'Tis easier to forget like that" he said with a sigh as he downed last of the beverage he was drinking

There was a short beat of silence as Henry ran through the options in his head, eventually deciding to take a step closer to the table, sitting across from the drunken man.

"I suppose," he shrugged. "However, might I inquire what is being forgotten?"

"My Familie, of course! Those angry old people who cannot stand that someone ist happy." He sighs and sits upright with a small sway in his body

"My grandparents have written to me and expressed their...." his face scrunches up in a drunk effort to remember the word "Unzufriedenheit (dissatisfaction) with me for fighting in the war and studying in England instead of" now, his voice turns to mocking "coming back to my poor dying elderly........ Großeltern (grandparents), I mean how dare I?"

He sighs and lays his hand into his hands, which are propped up on the table inelegantly

"They can honestly die for all I care."

"Ah, I see." Henry nodded mechanically, stifling through respectful responses in his mind while he stayed silent for a small moment. "Well, may i request to join you?" He cocked his head, absentmindedly pulling at the cloth of his cravat.

He smiled invitingly "of course, good sir. The more the merrier."

Henry smiled briefly, looking at the objects sat on the table as he shifted in his seat.

"So, what is it that you're drinking?"

The man sat at a table, obviously drunk

(@cathy-joseph-hayes @the-real-joseph-hayes @eleison-difiori @henry-reed @mabel-walsh

@dieechteanna @adele-antos @thatirishnurse @frenchguysoldier @william-laurens)

Henry stepped into the tent, furrowing his brow as he lay his eyes on the drunken man.

"Drinking? Again, Frederick?"

"'Tis easier to forget like that" he said with a sigh as he downed last of the beverage he was drinking

There was a short beat of silence as Henry ran through the options in his head, eventually deciding to take a step closer to the table, sitting across from the drunken man.

"I suppose," he shrugged. "However, might I inquire what is being forgotten?"

"My Familie, of course! Those angry old people who cannot stand that someone ist happy." He sighs and sits upright with a small sway in his body

"My grandparents have written to me and expressed their...." his face scrunches up in a drunk effort to remember the word "Unzufriedenheit (dissatisfaction) with me for fighting in the war and studying in England instead of" now, his voice turns to mocking "coming back to my poor dying elderly........ Großeltern (grandparents), I mean how dare I?"

He sighs and lays his hand into his hands, which are propped up on the table inelegantly

"They can honestly die for all I care."

"Ah, I see." Henry nodded mechanically, stifling through respectful responses in his mind while he stayed silent for a small moment. "Well, may i request to join you?" He cocked his head, absentmindedly pulling at the cloth of his cravat.

The man sat at a table, obviously drunk

(@cathy-joseph-hayes @the-real-joseph-hayes @eleison-difiori @henry-reed @mabel-walsh

@dieechteanna @adele-antos @thatirishnurse @frenchguysoldier @william-laurens)

Henry stepped into the tent, furrowing his brow as he lay his eyes on the drunken man.

"Drinking? Again, Frederick?"

"'Tis easier to forget like that" he said with a sigh as he downed last of the beverage he was drinking

There was a short beat of silence as Henry ran through the options in his head, eventually deciding to take a step closer to the table, sitting across from the drunken man.

"I suppose," he shrugged. "However, might I inquire what is being forgotten?"

The man sat at a table, obviously drunk

(@cathy-joseph-hayes @the-real-joseph-hayes @eleison-difiori @henry-reed @mabel-walsh

@dieechteanna @adele-antos @thatirishnurse @frenchguysoldier @william-laurens)

Henry stepped into the tent, furrowing his brow as he lay his eyes on the drunken man.

"Drinking? Again, Frederick?"

Nothing of your concern, of course. Just letting my eyes wander. Do you need anything, sir?

*Clearly he was lying. He didn’t think you’d hear, nor understand him.

Henry snorted under his breath; he saw right through the frenchmans faux kindness, yet he decided to say nothing. Making enemies never seemed to end well, to be fair, he'd simply have to ask Hamilton what his words meant.

He hummed in acknowledgment. "No, I simply haven't seen a frenchman in the area for quite some time."

I understand. I hear that often. I’m always anywhere but my home country. I don’t enjoy being there. Neither does my family enjoy my presence in France. *He would whisper under his breath. Obviously, there’s something about him that his family dislikes him for. It may be the dark markings on his face. Like that of a Dalmatian.

"Ah." Henry absentmindedly fidgeted with the knot on his cravat, searching for something to say. He had heard the man mumble something, though it was discernible from where he stood. "Well, I'm Henry. Pleasure to meet you." He gingerly stuck out his hand, awaiting a returned greeting.

Conan tucks his hair behind his ear before hesitantly shaking the man’s hand.

“Conan. Conan Hendrix.”

He doesn’t return any sort of smile. Conan has a strong distrust for redcoats, but he tries his best to keep his hatred under the surface.

"Right, then," Henry murmured, retracting his hand awkwardly. He glanced around the bar, his gaze landing on anything but the man that stood in front of him. He could sense Conan's unease, or, well, more so disdain, for where he found himself. Most frenchman are distrustful towards the British anyhow.

*Conan didn’t just want to leave this conversation here. He wanted to know more about the redcoats. Sure, he isn’t actually a spy, but he was going to get all the information he could get. For personal use, and for his side of the war.

By the looks of your uniform, you’re a part of the British army, correct?

"Hm? Oh, yes, I am," Henry hummed. He was aware he was to be careful when discussing the matters of the British army to others, especially those who seem to have ill intent. Conan didnt particularly strike him as one to have ill intentions, but then again, the French often side with the rebels.

Henry scoffed to himself - damn those rebels.

*Conan glares at him but suppresses any anger that could rise into fight.

Well, you’re lucky to be a part of those redcoats, oui? With the powerful soldiers you have, you must be proud, right?

Henry raises his eyebrow, crossing his arms. He stared at the frenchman with a cocked head.

"I suppose so, yes? Its certainly an advantage," he says hesitantly.

*He bites his lip before speaking again

Anyways, forgetting the topic of war, tell me about yourself. Family, background, things like that.

*Everytime he speaks you hear that strong French accent. He takes another sip of alcohol and sets the glass down softly. Awaiting your answer*

Henry furrowed his brow lightly, looking at Conan with a inquisitive glare.

"Not much to say," he eventually shrugged. "I did what most men did; grew up and joined the army." Now, its not as if the army was his first choice - he never liked the idea of being a soldier - but damn it all to hell if he would say anything too personal to a man he had just met.

*He wasn’t expecting something so simple. He knew that Henry was just trying to keep his privacy but he expected a bit more than that.

So, I guess I might share then. Obviously, I’m from France. I have five sisters and a brother. And, i do have this skin condition as you can see, my face and arms are covered in dark patches.

*Conan seems to be a bit of a chatty drunk.

Henry nodded, swirling the rum in his glass around in a small circle, the liquid whirlpooling in the middle of the glass.

"Interesting," Henry hummed. "I too had siblings - two, actually," he let out a humorless chuckle, "Never got the chance to know them."

Nothing of your concern, of course. Just letting my eyes wander. Do you need anything, sir?

*Clearly he was lying. He didn’t think you’d hear, nor understand him.

Henry snorted under his breath; he saw right through the frenchmans faux kindness, yet he decided to say nothing. Making enemies never seemed to end well, to be fair, he'd simply have to ask Hamilton what his words meant.

He hummed in acknowledgment. "No, I simply haven't seen a frenchman in the area for quite some time."

I understand. I hear that often. I’m always anywhere but my home country. I don’t enjoy being there. Neither does my family enjoy my presence in France. *He would whisper under his breath. Obviously, there’s something about him that his family dislikes him for. It may be the dark markings on his face. Like that of a Dalmatian.

"Ah." Henry absentmindedly fidgeted with the knot on his cravat, searching for something to say. He had heard the man mumble something, though it was discernible from where he stood. "Well, I'm Henry. Pleasure to meet you." He gingerly stuck out his hand, awaiting a returned greeting.

Conan tucks his hair behind his ear before hesitantly shaking the man’s hand.

“Conan. Conan Hendrix.”

He doesn’t return any sort of smile. Conan has a strong distrust for redcoats, but he tries his best to keep his hatred under the surface.

"Right, then," Henry murmured, retracting his hand awkwardly. He glanced around the bar, his gaze landing on anything but the man that stood in front of him. He could sense Conan's unease, or, well, more so disdain, for where he found himself. Most frenchman are distrustful towards the British anyhow.

*Conan didn’t just want to leave this conversation here. He wanted to know more about the redcoats. Sure, he isn’t actually a spy, but he was going to get all the information he could get. For personal use, and for his side of the war.

By the looks of your uniform, you’re a part of the British army, correct?

"Hm? Oh, yes, I am," Henry hummed. He was aware he was to be careful when discussing the matters of the British army to others, especially those who seem to have ill intent. Conan didnt particularly strike him as one to have ill intentions, but then again, the French often side with the rebels.

Henry scoffed to himself - damn those rebels.

*Conan glares at him but suppresses any anger that could rise into fight.

Well, you’re lucky to be a part of those redcoats, oui? With the powerful soldiers you have, you must be proud, right?

Henry raises his eyebrow, crossing his arms. He stared at the frenchman with a cocked head.

"I suppose so, yes? Its certainly an advantage," he says hesitantly.

*He bites his lip before speaking again

Anyways, forgetting the topic of war, tell me about yourself. Family, background, things like that.

*Everytime he speaks you hear that strong French accent. He takes another sip of alcohol and sets the glass down softly. Awaiting your answer*

Henry furrowed his brow lightly, looking at Conan with a inquisitive glare.

"Not much to say," he eventually shrugged. "I did what most men did; grew up and joined the army." Now, its not as if the army was his first choice - he never liked the idea of being a soldier - but damn it all to hell if he would say anything too personal to a man he had just met.

Nothing of your concern, of course. Just letting my eyes wander. Do you need anything, sir?

*Clearly he was lying. He didn’t think you’d hear, nor understand him.

Henry snorted under his breath; he saw right through the frenchmans faux kindness, yet he decided to say nothing. Making enemies never seemed to end well, to be fair, he'd simply have to ask Hamilton what his words meant.

He hummed in acknowledgment. "No, I simply haven't seen a frenchman in the area for quite some time."

I understand. I hear that often. I’m always anywhere but my home country. I don’t enjoy being there. Neither does my family enjoy my presence in France. *He would whisper under his breath. Obviously, there’s something about him that his family dislikes him for. It may be the dark markings on his face. Like that of a Dalmatian.

"Ah." Henry absentmindedly fidgeted with the knot on his cravat, searching for something to say. He had heard the man mumble something, though it was discernible from where he stood. "Well, I'm Henry. Pleasure to meet you." He gingerly stuck out his hand, awaiting a returned greeting.

Conan tucks his hair behind his ear before hesitantly shaking the man’s hand.

“Conan. Conan Hendrix.”

He doesn’t return any sort of smile. Conan has a strong distrust for redcoats, but he tries his best to keep his hatred under the surface.

"Right, then," Henry murmured, retracting his hand awkwardly. He glanced around the bar, his gaze landing on anything but the man that stood in front of him. He could sense Conan's unease, or, well, more so disdain, for where he found himself. Most frenchman are distrustful towards the British anyhow.

*Conan didn’t just want to leave this conversation here. He wanted to know more about the redcoats. Sure, he isn’t actually a spy, but he was going to get all the information he could get. For personal use, and for his side of the war.

By the looks of your uniform, you’re a part of the British army, correct?

"Hm? Oh, yes, I am," Henry hummed. He was aware he was to be careful when discussing the matters of the British army to others, especially those who seem to have ill intent. Conan didnt particularly strike him as one to have ill intentions, but then again, the French often side with the rebels.

Henry scoffed to himself - damn those rebels.

*Conan glares at him but suppresses any anger that could rise into fight.

Well, you’re lucky to be a part of those redcoats, oui? With the powerful soldiers you have, you must be proud, right?

Henry raises his eyebrow, crossing his arms. He stared at the frenchman with a cocked head.

"I suppose so, yes? Its certainly an advantage," he says hesitantly.

Nothing of your concern, of course. Just letting my eyes wander. Do you need anything, sir?

*Clearly he was lying. He didn’t think you’d hear, nor understand him.

Henry snorted under his breath; he saw right through the frenchmans faux kindness, yet he decided to say nothing. Making enemies never seemed to end well, to be fair, he'd simply have to ask Hamilton what his words meant.

He hummed in acknowledgment. "No, I simply haven't seen a frenchman in the area for quite some time."

I understand. I hear that often. I’m always anywhere but my home country. I don’t enjoy being there. Neither does my family enjoy my presence in France. *He would whisper under his breath. Obviously, there’s something about him that his family dislikes him for. It may be the dark markings on his face. Like that of a Dalmatian.

"Ah." Henry absentmindedly fidgeted with the knot on his cravat, searching for something to say. He had heard the man mumble something, though it was discernible from where he stood. "Well, I'm Henry. Pleasure to meet you." He gingerly stuck out his hand, awaiting a returned greeting.

Conan tucks his hair behind his ear before hesitantly shaking the man’s hand.

“Conan. Conan Hendrix.”

He doesn’t return any sort of smile. Conan has a strong distrust for redcoats, but he tries his best to keep his hatred under the surface.

"Right, then," Henry murmured, retracting his hand awkwardly. He glanced around the bar, his gaze landing on anything but the man that stood in front of him. He could sense Conan's unease, or, well, more so disdain, for where he found himself. Most frenchman are distrustful towards the British anyhow.

*Conan didn’t just want to leave this conversation here. He wanted to know more about the redcoats. Sure, he isn’t actually a spy, but he was going to get all the information he could get. For personal use, and for his side of the war.

By the looks of your uniform, you’re a part of the British army, correct?

"Hm? Oh, yes, I am," Henry hummed. He was aware he was to be careful when discussing the matters of the British army to others, especially those who seem to have ill intent. Conan didnt particularly strike him as one to have ill intentions, but then again, the French often side with the rebels.

Henry scoffed to himself - damn those rebels.

Nothing of your concern, of course. Just letting my eyes wander. Do you need anything, sir?

*Clearly he was lying. He didn’t think you’d hear, nor understand him.

Henry snorted under his breath; he saw right through the frenchmans faux kindness, yet he decided to say nothing. Making enemies never seemed to end well, to be fair, he'd simply have to ask Hamilton what his words meant.

He hummed in acknowledgment. "No, I simply haven't seen a frenchman in the area for quite some time."

I understand. I hear that often. I’m always anywhere but my home country. I don’t enjoy being there. Neither does my family enjoy my presence in France. *He would whisper under his breath. Obviously, there’s something about him that his family dislikes him for. It may be the dark markings on his face. Like that of a Dalmatian.

"Ah." Henry absentmindedly fidgeted with the knot on his cravat, searching for something to say. He had heard the man mumble something, though it was discernible from where he stood. "Well, I'm Henry. Pleasure to meet you." He gingerly stuck out his hand, awaiting a returned greeting.

Conan tucks his hair behind his ear before hesitantly shaking the man’s hand.

“Conan. Conan Hendrix.”

He doesn’t return any sort of smile. Conan has a strong distrust for redcoats, but he tries his best to keep his hatred under the surface.

"Right, then," Henry murmured, retracting his hand awkwardly. He glanced around the bar, his gaze landing on anything but the man that stood in front of him. He could sense Conan's unease, or, well, more so disdain, for where he found himself. Most frenchman are distrustful towards the British anyhow.

Nothing of your concern, of course. Just letting my eyes wander. Do you need anything, sir?

*Clearly he was lying. He didn’t think you’d hear, nor understand him.

Henry snorted under his breath; he saw right through the frenchmans faux kindness, yet he decided to say nothing. Making enemies never seemed to end well, to be fair, he'd simply have to ask Hamilton what his words meant.

He hummed in acknowledgment. "No, I simply haven't seen a frenchman in the area for quite some time."

I understand. I hear that often. I’m always anywhere but my home country. I don’t enjoy being there. Neither does my family enjoy my presence in France. *He would whisper under his breath. Obviously, there’s something about him that his family dislikes him for. It may be the dark markings on his face. Like that of a Dalmatian.

"Ah." Henry absentmindedly fidgeted with the knot on his cravat, searching for something to say. He had heard the man mumble something, though it was discernible from where he stood. "Well, I'm Henry. Pleasure to meet you." He gingerly stuck out his hand, awaiting a returned greeting.

Nothing of your concern, of course. Just letting my eyes wander. Do you need anything, sir?

*Clearly he was lying. He didn’t think you’d hear, nor understand him.

Henry snorted under his breath; he saw right through the frenchmans faux kindness, yet he decided to say nothing. Making enemies never seemed to end well, to be fair, he'd simply have to ask Hamilton what his words meant.

He hummed in acknowledgment. "No, I simply haven't seen a frenchman in the area for quite some time."

OOC // ive never had a rp account what do i even post im scared to interact💔💔

OOC// I just put random asks in peoples ask boxes and then just went w whatever they responded 🤸🤷

OOC// honestly haven't RP'd since I was a teenager so I'm just going with the flow and going off of memory from my FF.Net days(god saying FF.Net makes me feel so old)

~ooc~ I usually play around and send asks until someone notices me

not to brag but im a boss at rp’ing 😏😏 (i play a lot of c.ai 😭😭)

OOC // yeah no i rp a lot but ive never had an account dedicated to it😭 im scared to interact with people.....💔

~ooc~ I’ll interact with moots any day

if you want asks, I’ll send :3

OOC // please ohmygod im just too pussy to send asks myself lmfao😭

~ooc~ the asks aren’t on 😔😔

OOC // OOPS LET ME FIX THAT AHAH😭

OOC // ive never had a rp account what do i even post im scared to interact💔💔

OOC// I just put random asks in peoples ask boxes and then just went w whatever they responded 🤸🤷

OOC// honestly haven't RP'd since I was a teenager so I'm just going with the flow and going off of memory from my FF.Net days(god saying FF.Net makes me feel so old)

~ooc~ I usually play around and send asks until someone notices me

not to brag but im a boss at rp’ing 😏😏 (i play a lot of c.ai 😭😭)

OOC // yeah no i rp a lot but ive never had an account dedicated to it😭 im scared to interact with people.....💔

~ooc~ I’ll interact with moots any day

if you want asks, I’ll send :3

OOC // please ohmygod im just too pussy to send asks myself lmfao😭

OOC // ive never had a rp account what do i even post im scared to interact💔💔

OOC// I just put random asks in peoples ask boxes and then just went w whatever they responded 🤸🤷

OOC// honestly haven't RP'd since I was a teenager so I'm just going with the flow and going off of memory from my FF.Net days(god saying FF.Net makes me feel so old)

~ooc~ I usually play around and send asks until someone notices me

not to brag but im a boss at rp’ing 😏😏 (i play a lot of c.ai 😭😭)

OOC // yeah no i rp a lot but ive never had an account dedicated to it😭 im scared to interact with people.....💔