Search found 40 matches for Arthur Kirkland

Arthur loved to sneak out. Whenever he got bored, he decided to find a new way of getting out, and he got a bit of fresh air doing it. The guards generally knew of his love to escape, and he went back without much fuss. So, he hadn't been shot yet, luckily.

On a particularily boring day, he decided he'd quite like a walk, perhaps down to the stream today. He went to the fence, taking out a cigarette and leaned against it, looking for the most loose boards. It wasn't the best way to escape, but it was definitely the quickest. He'd be caught quicker too.

He slipped through, and made a break for the forest, in to the trees. He was pleasantly puffed out by the time he reached the stream, chuckling pleasantly and leaning against a tree, gasping for breath.

He heard movements, splashing, and looked around for the scource, going upstream a bit. Where there was a naked woman. He blushed and covered his eyes. "Ma'am! Have you no decency?!" He asked in German, since he assumed she was a woman from the village, he didn't recognise her though. But he hadn't seen everyone from the villiage yet.

Arthur knew he had visibly jumped when he'd heard the gun go off, and the surprise left a bitter taste in his mouth. But he couldn't show how much it had scared him. Arthur snorted, "You missed." He said, but he knew he could have easily been hit if the guard had wanted to hit him, "You shouldn't waste bullets, they don't grow on trees." He reminded him. He wondered if the guard understood the idiom, his English didn't seem that good. Worse than Arthur's German, though.

Arthur turned around. He should really go back now, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to yet, he was finding this quite amuusing. He could at least play a little longer, the guard was young and cute. Arthur could mess with him easily, he already had.

You missed your deadline so I've had to move your application to dropped. You're free to reserve again though!

Haha, I loved it! Apart from the occasional (very exusable) verb mistake, it was brilliant! Look forward to RPing with you C: Change your name, ect, ect.

FemFrance? Of course you can! You have until the 17th of Jan and 3 tries

Good to finally see you :3 You have three tries and until the 12th. Good luck!

It wasn't often that new prisoners came to the camp. Guards would come and go, yes, but the prisoners stayed fairly static, apart from the occasional Yank who had to bail out his plane. The majority of prisoners had been here for at least a year, the british ones certianly. Arthur knew that the Nazis must still becapturing prisoners, but this camp was so far away from France, chances are that everyone else was sent to other once. He wondered what those other places were like, sometimes, where they bigger? He didn't really care, he just wanted to be shot of the place. He had faith in Britannia, she would come through.

But, back to the point, which is that it was rare to get new prisoners. So, when they did arrive, there was usually a lot of furore over them. Arthur was always stuck, when a new prisoner came in, between a sense of shared suffering, causing camraderie and a deep loathing for most people in general. When he heard that he would be sharing a room with one of said new prisoners, he didn't really care. 'Big deal' He thought to himself, 'just another American to get on my nerves. He didn't go out to see them being paraded in to the camp, he didn't give a toss, though the fact that he had been in solitary that day, that helped influence his decision.

When he finally did get back to his room, there was someone there. Someone, he assumed, was the mysterious new prisoner. Arthur was a little taken aback; he was young, surprisingly so. What, he could be no more than 12? "Good day." He said politely, throwing his kitbag on to his bed. He resisted the temptation to make a quip about his baby face - what time did he go to bed, did he want Arthur to cut up his dinner for him later.

Arthur knew he should be intimidated. This guard was a good few inches, nearly a head above him, tall, young and relatively muscular. What they were doing wasting him here, Arthur didn't know. However, despite the gun and the angry German, Arthur found he couldn't care. Perhaps he was desensitised; after two years of being stuck here, he had grown accustomed to big strong German men pointing guns at him.

Slowly, the guard was becoming more and more frustrated. Arthur was surprised he hadn't been shot yet or at least grabbed. He wasn't far enough away from the camp that he could not easily caught by a mere moment of sprinting. He wasn't going to run. "Don't move only an inch? Fine, I'll move more than that." And he proceeded to take a rather large, rebellious stride forward. "So, do you have a name?" He asked, continuing to walk.

Aw, well, goodbye then. Hope you did have fun <3

Vargas was so picky when it came to food. There was a war on, there was no time for gormets or wasting food. Just the fact that they had this, they should be lucky. He didn't say any more on the subject.

He stirred the pasta. Uh... proper pasta? Arthur didn't understand what he was saying - maybe Vargas's english was failing him, or maybe it was some kind of cooking jargon. "Um... I don't know. What do you think?" It looked like pasta to him. But it had looked like pasta at the beginning too.

He saw the gun pointed at him but he didn't waiver at all. The boy could barely be 20, he'd likely never shot anything before. He continued to smile innocently and slightly madly. After all, he had nothing really to live for, and he doubted the man would shoot him anyway, not for walking slowly out of the camp. He hadn't been shot for running out of the camp, even. He didn't know this guard, true, but still, chances he would shoot were low.

He sighed. "You don't want to come? What a shame. I suppose I'll have to go by myself. Back in an hour or so." And he turned back, continuing to walk towards the forest.

Yay~ It's lovely! There are a few grammar mistakes and the like, but they don't really impact on your application so you are accepted! /o/ Feel free to change your name and start a thread.

"Well I'm not diseased or anything." God, why was it such a big deal? It wasn't a big deal, a few droplets of blood. Arthur wouldn't be able to taste it if there had been blood on his carrots. Carrots were mostly waterproof, why would they absorb blood? He tilted his head; Feliciano was much better than he was at it, it just proved quite how terrible he was. "Most of us are used to tasting blood anyway, we're soldiers." He joked casually.

Stirring? Yeah, he could probably do that. He wasn't an imbecile, after all. And water couldn't exactly catch on fire... could it? "Yeah, I can do that." When the pasta was ready, he took the spoon and stirred the pot, making sure that it was all moved. This wasn't too bad, if deathly boring. He didn't really want to screw up again.

Arthur felt that Vargas was over reacting a little bit. It was a tiny cut and yes, there was a little blood splashed over the carrots and it did sting, but it wasn't dangerous. He rolled his eyes, taking his finger out of his mouth and holding it out. There, it wasn't even that bad. "Just a little slice," He shrugged slightly, doing as he was told and bangading the wound. Really, if he was at home his father would have told him to just suck it up and get on withh his day. A little cut didn't stop a Kirkland. "Sorry about getting blood on the food. Just wash it off." He flexed his fingers.

He thought about it. Vargas sounded less insulting and more exasperated, so Arthur nearly felt sorry for him. Nearly. He shrugged awkwardly, "I don't know. I've never really cooked. There's always been someone else to do it." Cooking was not a man's work.

It was almost adorable hearing him speak English, he was terrible, but better than some of the guards. His English was by no means as good as Arthur's German, but he was hardly going to make it easy on the guard by speaking German. "Come on, old chap," he said briskly, but trying to be clear, "It's a fine day, can't a man take a walk?"

He knew, or at least, hoped, that he wouldn't shoot. He was calling his bluff, and it was a big bluff to call. He didn't recognise this guard, so he didn't know how he'd react, he'd only seen him around. If it was Drescher or Cole, he would be sorted, but they were off to the front. Arthur envied them, really. They may have been nazis, but at least nazis who were able to fight.

"Do come and join me." He grinned a little manically. He wouldn't run, not at all, he'd just keep walking. He probably wouldn't get any further than this.