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| Picardy-kun
Picardy-kun
♂️
[20037382]
[2011-12-01 06:07:52 +0000 UTC]
"Forget about these ears."
(France)
# Statistics
Favourites: 1; Deviations: 0; Watchers: 219
Watching: 10; Pageviews: 5057; Comments Made: 487; Friends: 10
# About me
.young.french.male.average-looking.green-eyed.brunet.photographer.
[Francis Bonnefoy]
Mon 'Boss'
"Il est... mon Dieu, I'm sure you understand how difficult it is to describe a man like himself."
[Nord-Pas de Calais]
'Closest' sibling
"Où es-tu...?"
[Matthew Williams] [Alfred F. Jones] [Monaco]
[Other French-influenced countries and states]
Family Members and Relatives
"Ah, I don't have any specific comments for them."
.historical region.vast plains.open fields.proud culture.Picard language.
I trust you.
--
"Through the times we've spent, there's... definitely something more, some sort of connection, you get me?
But, ah, merchi beacoup, for keeping this together with me."
Mon ami, mon amie.
--
"Shall I keep you company?"
We meet again.
--
"There's nothing wrong with talking to you. Ça va?"
.hardworking.earnest.sincere.caring.impatient.negative.stealthy.charismatic.
Here and There.
[Everyone Else]
"I've seen you before."
Ugh.
--
"..."
.photography.cooking.local cuisine.wine.peace and quiet.agriculture.
【Outside Relations List 】
【Secret Base 】
.Oise.Somme.Aisne.
« Please note: this paragraph roleplayer is not French and only a beginner with the French language (A.K.A. taking basics in a class for now) and would like to apologize in advance for this inconvenience.
Human names will be used instead of the country, as the roleplayer sees that the characters differ from their associated country. (As for revealing Picardy's human name, it isn't found elsewhere.)
The roleplayer will refrain from watching anyone outside of APHRPHQ as a sign of respect. Said roleplayer will, as much as possible, not participate in pairings or shippings of any kind.
This account highly encourages roleplaying from any account.
The roleplayer will respond to any comments and starters.
The images and the flag originated from Google Images, the account's avatar from Picardy's character sheet, face claim picture from Tumblr URL 'gasphard', and ID drawing from the roleplayer. Character belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.
[ About Pikamun: GMT+08. Tilde abuse. Focused on character development. ]
【 Replies: ≤2; Starters: ≤?? ── Please specify if lit or script. Default: lit. Terrible at starters. 】
P.S. If anything is inaccurate, please do message me as soon as possible.
Any other concerns may be placed in a note. Thank you. »
'If in this place you are detained
Don't look around you all in vain
But cast your net and you shall find
That every cloud is silver lined...'
# Comments
Comments: 96
((omg,Picardy account ! let me love this account forever ;w; ))
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I'm from Picardie and I'm a big fan of him!!
I love photography too!!
I'm glad that someone other than me and my friends like Picardy!! ^^
Merci beaucoup!
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« Ah!~ Oh, wow, I'm glad to hear that!~
I think Picardy's a really nice character, but I know little of Picardie as a place~
But then I really want to visit because of him!~
Merci for the comment!~♥ »
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Eheh you're welcome!! I made this!
www.facebook.com/pages/Picardi…
I really love Picardy!! It's a poor region sure but beautiful! I was born in Picardy ^^
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« How's it like over there in Picardie, if I may ask?~
---and, ah!~ So you created that page, haha~ That's nice to know~
However, I do wish to replace that drawing of Picardy~ You see, I drew of it as a joke back in the day, and maybe you could replace it with... erm, a different one~ »
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I changed many time the profile picture (I don't like when he is depicted as a pervert) but yes I can
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« I'll draw another picture to replace it then~
I hated it whenever Picardy was seen as a pervert or maid or whatever, and I've never depicted him as such, even when I had the joke account around~ (That was between me and an old friend of mine~)»
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I found a page on fb of Picardy... I was very angry because it was a page with porn stuff....
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[ your package of a very interesting soldier is here ! ]
Landing from the sky, the guardian looked upon the lands. Clouds sprinkled the sky lightly - it was just enough. Not a clear sky where it was blazing hot, or even the clouds consuming the sky and light. But just enough for a natural feel to them. Sheathing two doubled over steel blades, in a steel sheath. Metal was inevitable to clink against one another. The sound resounding softly and weakly through the give area. Wherever that might be. It was forest. But he knew this scent was foreign. No hostility blanketed his surrounds. It was a more subtle air. Show casing nature in the proper way. It made him feel as if he was able to let his guard down slightly, letting his small stature relax, as so the area was instructing him on. With deep gray hues taking in his surroundings, the soldier took a seat upon the branch. Watching the animal from a bird's-eye view. Even watching smaller birds fly past him without a glance toward him. Placing a hand on the thick outlier branch from the trunk itself, he maneuvered himself expertly. Proceeding to fall, then twisting his body slightly, as if a cat in mid-air, finding his center of balance and full capacity which would bring him to land on his feet safely. Although from this height, there wasn't a chance that a human would get out of fall and not get hurt. Grabbing two handles from his jacket, he pressed two buttons, his back parallel to the ground. Then deploying two grapples to soften his land exponentially. Feeling the soles of his boots touch the earth, he pressed another button to reel back the hooks. With expert senses, he heard something not too far from where he stood firmly. Narrowing two hostile eyes, two blades were drawn and connected to the handles from before. A quick right step and he made his way behind a tree without a single sound of earth being broken beneath his light feet. Instead, he stayed quite and waited to see what this person was doing out here. Now he was absolutely certain he wasn't in his own world. There was a human roaming carefree out in a forest. No one dared ever do that in his world. Shaking his head silently, he mentally sighed to himself. " Dammit .. "
[ thank you for your service ~ . w .
gomen for the bad starter ]
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« Ah, thank you, thank you!~ It's much appreciated~
Unfortunately, I haven't had the time to check the series, so I'll be forced to go through this blind~
Oh well, let's begin~ »
The flora of la forêt de Crécy, slowly engulfing the blankets of sky into its thinning arms, with smaller beams of sunlight passing through its leaves, rays bouncing onto the glowing still image of white breech, led his way. As the sole forest of Somme, its beauty had been kept brushed, favoring the springtime of the French region through its tints of youthful green -- raw, yet in its whole, with experience, of a life he surely knew, of lives he once knew. The Frenchman treading through the wilderness had been quiet in thought; knowing him, his grief covered him little by little, in droplets he was certain to have felt in his palms, his neck, on his cheek.
Death.
His body remembered death.
But he could only feel its essence, its memory pieced out purely by emotion, an echo of a young man's cries on the battlefield, of what he lost.
His mind steered clear to recall any of it. His job was to capture its fine scenery -- nothing more.
And yet neither of his hands could reach for his camera, his lifeblood, the work he so cherished and consumed each minute of each day, all for small, irreplaceable seconds--
He ventured further into the forest unarmed, save for his camera equipment, a wallet, and the clothes he wore. The calls of pheasants rung from a distance, either from their nests or from their feeding grounds, masking the silence brought by the air. The larger creatures fled from his appearance and escaped from his field of sight, hidden by oak and beech, never to be seen once more. The Picard drew his breath, staring at the remainder of the sky; he later rolled his sleeves to free his wrists. Whatever he was doing, he needed it, and continued.
He recalled a time when the number of wolves grew in the area, their snouts drunk with the scent of hour-old blood dumped from the very trees around him. Though it had been decades ago, the thought had yet to fade whenever he visited -- and he rarely did do so, seeing how he remained with a slight awareness to the place.
He was certain he was alone.
« Wow, this took me awhile, ahaha, I do apologize for the pauses~
It's fine, it's nice!~
And, if you've seen my journal, you have the chance to request a pixel!~ »
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//Is it okay if I leave this here? ;w; //
The soft sound of breathing was the only sound that could be heard from the femme fatale as she laid against a large tree. Working none stop was not something that was health for a person, human or Nation a like. Thus this was one of the few time the woman would actually take a day off from constantly training, paper work and anything else that would cause her some kind of stress. To anyone who didn't know her this would be a rare sight and a perfect opportunity to take a picture of the sleeping beauty.
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« I'm terribly sorry!~ I was going to comment on this a long time ago, but never got to~ My sincerest apologies~;; »
As if his consciousness brewed over him a delightfully devious spell, he settled nearby, upon the fields of saturated green and tickling white. His palms bore the bulk of his camera, followed by his wrists, then his arms, until his shoulders and neck, which soon reached the lighter locks of his tangible brown hair, and his pair of lackluster eyes came into view. The mid-February heat had been kind to him, to he who had barely a drip of his own sweat on his cheeks, yet the photographer went through with his idea -- or better yet, his feet decided and led -- towards resting under the grand common oak. Only there did he discover the Italian 'maiden', her eyes slightly covered by several clumped strands of her coffee brown hair, her nostrils following the rise of her chest, of breaths freely in an inhale, an exhale, repeatedly in an automatic rhythm. He saw the leaves overhead danced under her through a distortion of sunlight bouncing off from her shoulder to the edge of her soles. Picardie indeed wanted to take the moment to preserve the moment, and his hands agreed in its eagerness. Just one would do, whispered one thought. You've done it plenty of times before.
He couldn't.
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[[ I. . .hope it's okay for outsider of your group to comment here ""|D ]]
It doesn't reach 24 hours from Hubert's decision to take some trots at the Northern France-- in the winter? Well, it's not like some mere snowflakes would bother the Savoyard anyway. But it's not just some mere snows.
Biting coldness and smacking winds greeted as he stepped to the city. Feels disappointed, he entered a nearby comfortable café, and soons to relieves. There's a familiar face sitting beside a window; atleast someone to talk to.
"Bonjor, Monsieur Picardy~" with decent smiles, Savoy approached the table.
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<< Sorry for the late reply!~
No need to worry; no rules state so~ /and the group is pretty dead >>
Three point six degree Celsius. Refreshing, to say the least, as he let the winter draft swept lightly on his cheek, followed by a sip of steam, in the same likeness of his breath. His wrists were covered in black wool gloves, close to his tan brown coat which underneath was his usual attire: a long-sleeved collar shirt, black trousers, and the dark leather to his shoes. The Picard had attended yet another presentation, growing weary of waiting, of his Boss hidden from his view. A decision made months ago, he charged his services, for a fair price (he assumed) and continued his career as a professional. He never really needed the Frenchman, yet it took him some time before he realized it so. He brought his cup down.
"Ah, Monsieur Savoy," the brunet greeted, with a tilt from his head, facing the other man's direction. It had been some time since he last saw the fellow region, or any region for that matter, almost forgetting what his relations towards them were like. How unfortunate, he thought, that he knew little of the twenty-seven, but perhaps he could -- should -- renew them all. And so one hand guided to the other chair, alongside the table. "Bojour. What brings you to la région Picardie?" Strange how the main Bonnefoy would call them... féminin. "Sit down, s'il vous plaît. Catch your breath."
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*walks up to you and bends down to eye level staring right at your face intently* hmmmm...I know Russia has seen your face...Please jog Russia's memory, Da?
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"Euh."
The Français was rather surprised with the Russe's appearance. A tint of fear grew from his chest, yet he did his best to act natural.
"I'm called Picardy," he said, looking to his sides with a nervous smile plastered on his face. It was unpleasant to be stared then and there. "Francis Bonnefoy's hi-ired photographer."
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*looks at you and smiles* Ufufu~ Da, I remember yooou! Bonnefoy has told me about you!~ Ufufu~ *hee chuckles and smiles again* Buuuut, Francy-Pants isn't the best boss, Da? Would you like to come with me, Da? Be mine? Ufufufufu!~
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"Ouie, Boss is not really the best, but..." he then paused, almost dazed.
A little memory danced by.
A rose... soft, gentle, red.
Then gunfire.
"Euh... I'm needed," Picardy told to the taller man. The thought seemed to have returned to him to those days, but he didn't see the point in it anymore.
The world is different now.
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*Russia cocks his head to the side he keeps his normal smile on but a small purple aura makes it's way around him* Kolkolkol...If that's what you want, da? Buuut I'm always around juust incase... Kolkol...
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"A-ah... I'll keep that... in mind," he said. He gulped afterwards.
Now Picardy remembered why Russe was feared. But yes, he did have material to blackmail the man, yet...
Perhaps when the time was right.
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You know where to find me if thaat's the case, da?
*turns around to leave*
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The brunet had second thoughts about it, but...
... he nodded, and saw him leave.
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He looked around, trying to find where he was. He and America were looking around, until America decided to go someplace and whilst he tried finding the other, he got lost. He sighed and went up to you.
"U-Umm.. Do you know where we are..?"
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"Ouie. À la maison de--"
For a moment, the brunet glanced at him, mistaking him as a citizen of France. The blonde resembled the Français, only by the long, wavy strands that curled onto his head. Everything else, including his bright purple irises, differed.
What was his name? M... m... It started with a M, he thought before repeatedly sounding the name. Ma... ma... mat...
... Matthieu, non?
Close enough, he thought once more.
"You are within the European neighborhood. Are you looking for someone?" he asked, his brows unconsciously rising.
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"O-Oh, oui.. I'm looking for my Frère, Alfred.." He said, twiddling his thumbs nervously as he took in the expression of the other male across from him.
"He looks like me, except he seems a lot bigger, almost.. A-And he's loud.. Very, very loud.."
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"Ah... le Americain," he replied, a bitter taste escaping his lips. "I know him. He has yet to pass by here."
The last he saw of the two Northern Americans, they were but boys a few feet tall. Matthieu had not changed since then, and probably did not recognize the French region.
It had been some years, after all, but it was nice to see relatives now and then.
"If Boss were here, he would be pleased that you visited... unintentionally," the Picard continued the idle chatter.
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He smiled, forgetting about finding his brother and being lost in the first place as he chatted with the other.
"Boss..?"
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"Ah... excusez-moi. I was referring to your father figure, your papa... Francis," he muttered the last bit, almost foreign to him.
Picardy had not seen the Frenchman for some time now. No word had been out, which meant no job.
All this free time was rather silly.
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"Oh, you work for Papa?"
He smiled. He hasn't heard from the Frenchman in a while.
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"Oui, as a photographer," he said as he held the camera hanging from his neck.
As confident as the young Français told the Canadian about it, his job was not, at all, wonderful. In fact, he felt disgraceful by the very act. Among loads of stunning photographs were scandalous moments of every country.
But he had to swallow his pride. It cannot be helped. It just cannot be helped.
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"Really? What kind of pictures do you take? Landscape? Animals? I could help you, I have some wonderful places in Canada.."
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"Ah... I take all sorts. I don't have a specialty," he said while scratching the back of his head. He had already practiced this response, especially for situations like these, but he honestly would enjoy landscape for a change.
"I've been meaning to go there. Help would be great."
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"Okay, I know a great place.. It's by my log cabin in the mountains." He smiled and wondered what exactly he could do.
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"I can't afford much. How much Euro would it take?" he asked. Surely there was an amount to the temporary stay.
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"Oh, no, I'll pay, I mean- it is in Canada."
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"But... euh," he muttered. The young Canadian was rather kind, but it felt rude not to pay anything.
"Perhaps I could give photographs as thanks. I cannot take 'non' for an answer."
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"O-Okay, I wouldn't mind getting some photographs.."
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"Wonderful then," he blurted out, almost delighted with the thought of photography again. The weeks of dread were finally replaced with small amounts of... excitement? Was that it?
It was a happy feeling nonetheless.
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He smiled, sensing the atmosphere- even though it was light to begin with- becoming lighter and happier.
"S-So when would you like to come..?"
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"Any time is fine, monsieur," he said, returning to his normal state.
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"How about next weekend? i don't have anything planned.."
He smiled. He hadn't been to his log cabin in a few months, so this will be a getaway for him.
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"Oui, ça va. Merci," he said with a small, quick smile of his own.
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"I suppose you should return to looking for your frère," the Picard said, remembering the other man's search. "He may have returned home."
He then let his left hand out. "Before I forget, I am Picardy. You may have forgotten, but it's nice to see you again, Matthieu."
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He blushed and smiled bright, shaking his hand. He was glad that someone remembered him.
"O-Oh, right! N-Nice to meet you, too.."
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The Français released his hand.
"Au revoir," he said to the other, waving him goodbye.
Another day they would meet.
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"Au revoir.."
He replied back, smiling
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*At French restaurant, rolling on ground* AUGYAAAAAAHHHHHHH THIS FOOD SUCKS, DAZE!! *grabs your pants leg as you walk bye* AUGYAHHHHHH
(( Bonjour, Picardy! Ca va? )
Oh, is this an OC or a character I'm unaware of?)
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// Picardy's a minor character: [link] c:
Ah, I'm fine, merci~
Hello again, Korea~♪ //
He had come to visit one of his hometown restaurants, too dazed and delighted with this rare visit...
... but a sudden yank on his pants pulled all these thoughts aside.
"E-excuse me, monsieur... what are you doing... to my... leg?"
The boy appeared to be from the East, with his short black hair and strange outfit. A tourist, he immediately thought.
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He stops crying suddenly, staring up at you.
"....
Hey, you know any good food joints around here, daze?"
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