history is but a rhyme ( france )

[vietnam]

the me that you hate,

it had been such a long time since she visited paris. much too long, in fact. it hadn't been just a few days, or a few months but years - decades ago. lien could remember the time of war her people went through, the cruelty the french had put them through and the war that finally drove them away (the moments of this exact war were too horrible for her to remember, fortunately) and she decided that she would have no intention of ever visiting this country nor interact with anyone from this country. of course, however, there were exceptions to such thinking.

lien found herself in paris, visiting josephine herself.

they had a rather long history with each other, with the french people expediting to her small asian nation and then eventually colonizing it - there were good sides and bad sides to it, and they eventually had to grow apart. as a country, lien had to do what was right for her people - and the people wanted independence from the european rule.

dressed in a traditional and simple ao dai, colored a light seafoam green with a lotus design decorating the bottom. she could have dressed more casually, in regular clothing, but there was no time to really think of her appearance; josephine called for her recently just as she had done decades ago in that same, condenscending tone. it bothered her very much, and as she had no real duty to france anymore, lien could have ignored it. but she didn't. trời ơi, she sighed, remembering the slight sense of urgency that she thought she could have heard in the message she was sent. why was she feeling so lenient towards one of her enemies as of late?

and then she remembered that they were not enemies anymore, but comrades, under the alliance of peace. perhaps that was where this feeling of duty came from.

after a while of simply dillydallying around the french streets, lien made her way, lost, towards the eifel tower. while she was a foreigner, she was not new to the language these natives spoke. "excusez-moi," she spoke aloud to a fairly middle-aged man who happened to be in no hurry anywhere. "pourriez-vous s'il vous plaît me diriger dans la direction de la tour eiffel?" her french was polished and fluent, no sign of any asian accent at all.

his hand pointed down the street, and her eyes met the tower. "il est de cette façon." how could she have missed that?

she bowed her head in thanks and made her way. "je vous remercie beaucoup, monsieur."

it wasn't for long until lien found her way around the city of light, and stood at the base of the most important landmark in the city, the eiffel tower. she traveled inside, taking an elevator to the second floor where a very classy restaurant was placed. as expected of the french, she commented to herself, slightly admiring the appearance of the restaurant. entering, she was given a very skeptical look from a waiter who seemed to judge her based on her apperance. lien returned his look with a slight bow of her head, and asked if there was a madame josephine waiting for one lien nguyen.

"droit de cette façon, madame."

lien followed him into the restaurant, avoiding stares from the natives and tourists, and awaited whatever cruelty josephine seemed to have planned for her.

[france]

QUAND IL ME PREND DANS SES BRAS
il me parle tout bas , je vois la vie en rose

it had been quite a while since josephine had seen lien. how was she was doing? was she boding well, with their separation? the vain, jealous monster inside of josie wished and hoped that, maybe, lien wasn't doing so great since their "break up" of sorts. naturally, she liked to think that lien needed her, that the vietnamese was lost without her guidance; and even if this was not true, even if lien did not regret revolting against her, she still liked to believe it. for josephine, the feeling of being wanted and needed was lovely. it was something she wanted to feel all the time, no matter what.

when she spotted lien approaching, led by a waiter, she offered a small smile -- an almost tentative one, at that. she had been fiddling absently with her napkin, and when the man pulled out lien's chair for her josephine said, "merci, monsieur," before turning her attention back to vietnam. her smile warmed a considerable amount, and she felt (obliviously) that everything was as it should be again. "bonjour, lien!" she greeted, smoothing out her skirt. "i trust your trip here was well, non?"

selfishly, josephine intentionally acted as if nothing wrong had ever gone on between them. in fact, it was as if the whole entire ordeal had been wiped completely from her memory. she tinkered with the fine glass that held her wine before taking a sip. it was all a bit -- well, awkward, but the point of conversation was flow, was it not? "i was thinking," josephine started, casually, "about way back in the old days." her face lit up in a radiant smile. "i remember once, when you were so petit, i would sit you in my lap and braid little flowers in your hair. do you remember that, chaton?" she gave an almost wistful laugh, and then took a sip of her wine before setting it down once more. "but tell me -- you are faring well?"

TAGGED ! vietnam !
NOTES ! so uh idk what kind of torture she has in store either yet. but hopefully i'll come up with something? orz;

[vietnam]

the me that you hate,

the moment of truth. the footsteps leading to the quiet area of which france reserved for the two of them was extravagant and completely too fancy for lien's taste. it was definitely something that showed how showy and how outrageous the other female country was. her brow twitched slightly at the sight, but made a fair attempt at concealing her discomfort with everything. she muttered a small thank you under her breath and took a seat, fidgeting for a moment to make herself comfortable.

"chào buổi chiều, chị josephine," she greeted politely. lien was one for formality instead of the informality that this other woman gave her. "the trip was not as taxing as expected. if anything, making my way through this city of your's is quite a feat." perhaps the difficulty that came with coming toward the eiffel tower was simply because this was new for her and therefore it was okay to admit that she was lost - but of course, for all of the love in the world, she would never admit it.

josephine was already becoming so irritating. it was a challenge to just sit there in her presence. lien played with her fingers in her lap, hidden underneath the table to keep her mind focused. if she could simply get through the day in france, then she could go home and have some nice pho. yes, that was the plan. get through her day and go home. all there was too it.

the sudden mention of when she was a child and what josephine did with her came as a surprised and almost startled her into a passive possession. "i-i do not remember such times...!" denial was laced in her voice, because she 'did' remember and it was some of the rare moments in josephine's presence that she enjoyed. "perhaps y-you are thinking of some other country that you had, back then, chị josephine!" the skin on her face, usually a creamy tan in color, was highlighted with a soft pink and heated up at the memory.

trời ơi! to say something like that and to act as if you still have power over me - ! was the only thing in her head as she calmed down after a few moments of being in denial. clearing her throat, she adjusted her posture and tensed up in her seat. "i am doing well, yes," lien replied softly. "things have been better recently," and she wanted to add without you, but resisted the temptation. instead she retorted with a quick "and you?" and then fell silent.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

chào buổi chiều, chị josephine - good afternoon, josephine

[france]

QUAND IL ME PREND DANS SES BRAS
il me parle tout bas , je vois la vie en rose

josephine's smile faltered. for a moment, her thoughts overwhelmed her -- had it really been that bad? did lien hate her that much that she would force herself to forget the happy moments they shared together? her brows creased for a moment, before she cleared her expression and looked at the wine in her glass instead. she swished it around for a moment, pressing her lips into a thin line as she thought. surely lien didn't hate her all that much? surely the years they'd spent together hadn't been for nothing... right?

"no, i am sure it was you," she replied, forcing another pleasant smile onto her lips. she looked at lien; her eyes were tighter than normal, but she retained her composure, even then. "i remember. i would not forget something like that, lien. you would tug on my skirts and chatter about flowers until i finally sat you on my lap and braided them into your hair." she cleared her throat and swished her wine around in her cup complacently. it was the best she could do. "i miss those days," she commented, absently, watching her wine. and it was true; she did. lien had been like a daughter to her, and motherly france hadn't wanted to let go. of course, lien hadn't wanted anything to do with her; and now they were reduced to this.

"me?" she asked, broken out of her reverie. "oh, i'm doing well enough chaton. the days are easy." the smile came easier to her now, and she waved a waiter over, ordering a salad switfly in french before settling comfortably in her seat. politely, and daintily, she motioned for vietnam to order, also; it pleased her to no end, of course, to see how fluently and nicely lien still spoke the language.

TAGGED ! vietnam !
NOTES ! kjshfkajsdf;sdjfk

[vietnam]

the me that you hate,

lien, for one, was fond of french cuisine. specifically speaking, crepes were among her favorites. she called for a sweet crepe, even if this was a fancy restaurant and there were many other things - many other traditional french cuisine - that she could have ordered, but a crepe was one of the few things she missed. she hoped that josephine did not sense this feeling of longing for the simple french food, and she took a sip of water.

her hands were folded neatly in her lap, sitting as if she had some authority in this meeting (and really, she didn't. who was she kidding?). "y-yes, perhaps that was me..." she trailed off. her eyes closed softly, her mind taking her back to the nineteenth century. things were well off and things were beyond saving. she remembered the days she spent with josephine as a child - and only managed to show a slight, shy smile. it was barely there, though.

"the lotuses have always been very pretty. they have been my favorite for so long," the young lady murmurred. "i... i still remember. the good times," lien paused here - her words slowly coming through her thin lips. "and the bad times." at that moment, the crepe she ordered soon came and she uttered a thank you to the waiter.

she took a moment to gather her thoughts, and to think of what to say next. "i am very glad to see you prospering, josephine." what else could she say? that she secretly hoped that this country was not doing well? to despair and to go through all of that loss of identification and war that she herself went through? what was it that she was trying to say? lien did not know, and left it at that.

a small bite of the crepe was eaten, slowly as she took in the taste of the sweetness. while lien did not like sweets as much as others, a crepe was just right. it was something she wished she still had in her own culture.

lien took a breath, inhaling, and exhaled softly. "what was the purpose of calling me here?" she asked, acting professionally. there must have been a reason for the country of france to have called her other than to have a simple talk over lunch with her.

[france]

QUAND IL ME PREND DANS SES BRAS
il me parle tout bas , je vois la vie en rose

it pleased josephine, of course, that vietnam admitted to remembering; the fact that all of the effort josephine had put into mothering the asian nation had not gone to waste made her smile a more genuine smile, a softer smile. her eyes flickered away for a while; she was unsure where to look now, whether she should look at vietnam's face, or if she would fear what she saw there. she wondered if maybe, just maybe, her delusions were hurting her more than knowing the truth; by lying to herself about whether vietnam still liked her or not, was she just delaying the pain that would eventually come -- was she just accumulating it?

but she would not be phased, of course. her unflappable nature made it so. she fixed her eyes on vietnam once more, looking a bit wounded. "i called you here because i wished to visit with you," she defended herself, almost guiltily. in reality, josephine thought that she might have called vietnam here for the main purpose of exercising what little control she still had over the asian nation. she thought that maybe, subconsciously, she was reassuring herself that she still had some semblance of power; even if she wasn't initially thinking it, deep down, josephine knew this was true.

"i just wanted to visit with you," she repeated, after a moment. thinking back to vietnam's lotus comment, she gave a thoughtful noise, once more shifting in her seat before making herself comfortable again. "i remember, i put those flowers in your hair because of their meaning. in your culture, i believe that lotus flowers represent enlightenment, oui?" her smile softened again. "because they travel down the river waters into eventual peace?" she hoped she was right. if she was wrong, would she be insulting lien by not knowing her culture well? she hoped not.

TAGGED ! vietnam !
NOTES ! uhhh if that lotus thing is wrong i blame wiki B|

[vietnam]

the me that you hate,

"to... visit?"

the words left her mouth slowly, the sound of each letter drawn out. lien could not comprehend nor fathom the meaning behind those words. her face scrunched up, tense in confusion. josephine wanted a visit, just a visit. no business was involved nor wanted, no professionalism was needed, no formalities. just a visit.

lien frowned, upset with the idea. the expression on her face darkened for a moment. she is bored. i am only here for her to play with. a toy, the thought of the idea was sickening. not only with china, but with france as well - i am my own country, i do not need to be anyone's plaything and i certainly do not have to be bossed around by the likes of her - !

thoughts of leaving the restaurant at that very moment crossed her mind. lien wanted to go home (home... what was home now? was it the now independent country of vietnam or was it simply just another one of little france's playthings?). but lien was more civil than that. she was a civil person, and a civil nation, if a bit rough around the edges. she couldn't just up and leave now like some mad woman only because she was merely upset.

deep breaths, vietnam. deep breaths.

she inhaled, exhaled, and repeated. calming down her nerves, lien made an attempt to hide whatever dark feelings she just felt. "s-something like that, yes." was her reply in regards to the lotus flowers. it wasn't completely right, but it was something. the thought of france remembering such a thing was somehow uplifting her spirits, but lien knew that it was just common knowledge.

the young woman ate her crepe in huge bites, chewing slowly. it was something to distract her mind with. the sweet taste melted in her mouth and she craved more. for a few minutes, there was nothing else that came from lien but eating food (because that was the purpose of food, was it not?). she said nothing else to josephine.

[france]

QUAND IL ME PREND DANS SES BRAS
il me parle tout bas , je vois la vie en rose

the tension that had been previously expelled returned, rearing its ugly head in josephine's face. she had been a good parent, hadn't she? yes, she had tried to, well, force her religions and structural ideals on vietnam, but it had all been for her well-being. josephine had only been trying to help. it wasn't her fault that she had been too -- too unprepared to deal with the consequences, was it? she wasn't at fault here!

she wanted to explain all of this to lien, too, but she couldn't bring the words to her lips. she was silent for a while, listening to lien's determined and diligent chewing, trying to convince herself that the tension was something she imagined, not something that was real; but the hardened expression on lien's face told her otherwise, and she tried to find the right words to say. what could she say, anyway? there was no use in apologizing, not now, not when things were so done. there was only the remnants of what had once been; josephine just wished that lien could let go as easily as she had.

"lien, do you hate me?"

the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. a horrified pang of guilt jabbed at her heart, and she brought the wine glass to her lips in the hopes of stifling whatever horrors she might bring back up. the memories of the battles -- conquests, blood, revolts -- flashed through the forefront of her mind, but she stifled them in the hopes that things would return to where they had been before.

"i-i... perhaps this was a bad idea, after all."

TAGGED ! vietnam !
NOTES ! sorry this is kinda late ;w;

[vietnam]

the me that you hate,

she paused eating as josephine spoke with something akin to a hesitant and a very passive tone. the great france, being hesitant and passive? no one could have possibly ever thought a thing - or at least, vietnam wouldn't have had. visibly, a frown could be seen on her facial features, and she shifted in her seat. a hand reached for the glass of water that was placed out for her (alcohol wasn't really what she was craving for at the moment), and the young woman took a considerable gulp to relax herself even further, washing down any remains of the crepe that may have been in her mouth still.

"yes."

lien's field of vision moved as she looked up to stare at france. she thought she saw a glimpse of weakness, and thought she could use this moment as a way to make it better for her. she was a strategist, and even if she was not as good at war like the other countries, she could rival any when it came to strategy and the game plan behind everything. her eyes narrowed slightly, the frown remaining on her lips in a thin line.

softly, she took a breath. "i do hate you. but i also do not at the same time," was her final reply. "you have done much harm to my country and to my people, i cannot forgive you for that. but i can remember - the times that were good. they are scarce, but they are there." the words rolled off her tongue and she paused to physically check if france was handling this all well or not. "to act as if you still have power over me now, to act as if you did not remember that war between us..." lien stopped, finding words. "that is also unforgiveable."

the young woman gulped, a dry feeling suddenly invading her mouth. "i am independent, now. i have worked too hard for this independence," her eyes narrowed even more, expression darkening as she thought to the centuries of being in china's rule, of being in france's rule, of fighting that bloody, bloody war against herself. "i cannot allow you to take that away from me once again."

she wondered if josephine could see that this little vietnam had changed since they last spoke.

[france]

QUAND IL ME PREND DANS SES BRAS
il me parle tout bas , je vois la vie en rose

and france did see it, even if she didn't exactly let on that she did. as mentioned before, france had a selective sort of reasoning; she believed what she wanted to believe because, at the time, it appeared that she could do so without much consequence. france was most definitely a "slitherer outer" kind of person; when something she didn't like came her way, she avoided it. she thought of something else, she changed the subject, she forced herself to forget all of the heartache and anguish and to find something that was good and happy and wholesome.

but there was no ignoring this. her little vietnam -- her baby girl -- hated her. she couldn't deny it and she couldn't avoid it because it was right there, right in front of her; and it had been, all along, she supposed. she had been avoiding it for long enough and now that the time had come to face it, lien had ripped the band aid off without regards to france's feelings. she thought that maybe she deserved it; and maybe, just maybe, she didn't deserve it, too. who cared about france? didn't anyone ever think about what she might be feeling on the inside? yes, she had left sorrow and pain in her wake -- but there was no ignoring, either, that france was just as they were.

she felt. she had emotions, josephine experienced in humane and often savage emotions; passion and carnage and want and anguish. there was not much she could do but mask the emotions that were unbecoming of her. she was always expected to be something; proper, flirtatious, ladylike but rambunctious. she could never be sad; no, france could not be said or heartbroken over the loss of what she loved because she doesn't deserve to feel.

all these feelings were mute.

"well, that's too bad, then," france heard herself biting out through soft and pliable lips. the words came from her in that same genteel and debonair voice, light and playful and a little soft; but there was a certain hardness to it, the ache to feel sorrow but feeling undeserving of such and angry and not being good enough to feel that way. "perhaps one day you'll find it in your frozen and godforsaken heart to forgive the one who tried to help but made a mistake; unfortunately, it couldn't happen sooner." the facade was becoming invisible -- thin, thinner, thinnest -- and she found it breaking. she stood, dropping her napkin on the table, hiding the angry and frustrated tears behind sooty lashes as she shut her eyes, refusing to look at the woman who had once been her little girl.

"don't come ever again. i don't care," she was saying, her lips rigid with the words she didn't mean. "je n'aime pas. look what it's gotten me." and she stepped away from the table, pushed the chair in, and looked away. "have a nice night, vietnam," josephine finished, and then made her way down the aisle of tables. she had been speaking quieter than she initially thought -- in fact, she must have been whispering the words, for no one seemed to have noticed their animosity. she paid the bill at the front, recieved her jacket from a waiter, and bid the workers good night -- waving away the concern. miss josephine was fine; france was fine; there was never anything wrong with her.

nothing at all.

but she did care -- she did care -- and that's what hurt the most.

TAGGED ! vietnam !
NOTES ! angst plz? orz; i don't know what i was doing with this... srry. ;w;