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[France's face comes onto the feed looking... Well, he certainly doesn't look happy. In fact, he looks like he's trying very hard not to be sad, his expression somewhere between painfully repressed panic and abject despair. It appears that he has something he wants to tell the network, but he can't seem to make himself open his mouth
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[Of course he he's gone. Merlin knows that. He'd woken up and found a forlorn Drifblim hovering in the living room when he'd gone downstairs to start his shift. A quick check with the pokedex had revealed Lovino's old pokemon to be his now. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened.]
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[France rubs his hand over the right side of his face.]
Yes. That would make sense...
[He motions vaguely.]
Did you find him yesterday?
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That fits the time frame I have.
[He blinks and then latches onto the escape route Merlin's offered, smiling gratefully, if a little awkwardly.]
What's happening in Mahogany?
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France, I'm sorry. Are you holding up okay?
[In his typically blunt but kind manner.]
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Thanks.
[He pauses for a moment, honestly considering the question before letting out a soft laugh, humorless and sad.]
As well as can be expected...
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That's better than not at all.
[There's a quiet invitation there - if he'd like to talk, Coop will listen. He's sure France will be okay as long as he can grieve first ... but grief is a powerful thing, and people handle it differently. He might not be much help on the other side of a video screen, but hell, there's still an offer.]
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The worst part -
[He breaks off with sound between the sigh and and the humorless laugh, his face drawn into a grimace.]
I don't even know what the worst part is.
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It takes a while to find him, but he's manages it eventually, and stands in the doorway, knocking at the doorframe once to announce his presence.]
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Do you need something from the storage?
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There's an idiot in there who looks like he might get beaten by a wet paper bag at the moment, and we can't have that.
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Only you would come up with such an ugly metaphor.
[He scrubs at his eyes.]
How did you find me anyways?
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[The restaurant is actually one of the first places Envy goes to search, and another helpful employee directed him to the storage room. He knocks once before opening the door and starting inside, looking around for France.]
France?
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Close the door.
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[He doesn't ask if France is alright; he can see that he isn't, and that question has always felt hollow and stilted when Envy says it. He grips the back of France's shirt.] How long have you been back here?
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I don't know. What time is it?
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Which is partly why he's going to write a message back.
Hopefully he doesn't make the situation worse though...]
Uh, hey. Try to not let it get you down too much, okay? I don't know much about this place yet - but I'm sure he'll be alright!
[Yeah, he's really not sure if that'll help at all, but he felt like he needed to say something.]
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People tend to come and go suddenly here. It is the one thing that I will never get used to. It's as if they just vanish into thin air.
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I heard something about that, but at the same time at least it's nice to know they're only going back home. Or at least that's what I heard.
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There are some who come back, sometimes with memories of their stay here, sometimes without. Either way, it is not easy for us who are left behind.
You were here before in the form of a child under England's rule.
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