'French Wines' An allusion RP
 

[Note: This RP was inspired by the story 'French Wines' by CS Fox.
If anyone wishes to join they should connact me with their character proposal so we can discuss it.
I hope you all enjoy the story.]


I couldn’t believe I had been accepted for the scholarship. It was literally the opportunity of a live time, I was being given the opportunity to go and study abroad in France for two full semesters, a grant to cover my tuition fees and accommodation. When I told my parents they were delighted I’d been accepted and actually offered to lend me some money for my domestic needs while I was over there. It was absolutely brilliant, I would be able to study abroad, gain experience which would push me above the rest of the competition stuck in the UK and with my parents generosity I’d be doing it in relative comfort as well, no need to rough it out on the student’s economy budget.
There was however one small problem. I was terrible at speaking French and as anyone who’s been there will know, the French do not have much sympathy for anyone who can’t be bothered to learn their language before visiting.
I would love to say I’m not lazy and that French is an extraordinarily difficult language to learn. Unfortunately it’s actually quite closely linked with many English words, I just didn’t pay much attention during those dull classes in school. So there is a lesson for you young folk, you never know what skills might be important in your future, try not to waste opportunities... Hehe listen to me lecturing like an old busy body, you should see the situation I’m in now, but that’s a little further on in the story... So as I was saying, « Mon français est terrible! »
Fortunately being the intelligent scholarship winning man that I was, I had had come up with an ingenious plan.
Hence I find myself enjoying the view down the sun flooded valley in a rural area aptly named, Le puy en Velay, it was a small town not too far away from the city of Lyon which was where I would be studying after the Summer.
For the time being I was on vacation, the intention being that if I spent the time in France then I should be able to pick up the language before I was expected to start attending the university.
Well that was the plan anyway.
In reality I hadn’t yet picked up much, I’d managed to learn enough to ask for the beautiful wine I’d brought with me to the mountainside but not enough it seemed to be able to follow the trail signs back down towards my hostel... I admit in hindsight the wine I’d consumed probably didn’t do me any favours. Lecture number 2: Take water, not alcohol, when you’re planning to explore the countryside...
As the sun began to set you can imagine my worry, being lost in the wilderness, as breathtaking as it was, loses none of it’s terrifying promises, no matter where in the world you happen to be.
By chance I came across a little old woman at a brook, it seemed she was carrying a bundle of firewood but for the life of me I could swear there were no houses on the mountain side, just the farms which were down in the valley and of course the little traditional town in the centre of it all.
As best as I could in broken French I tried to ask her if she could help me find my way and explained I was English.
Either she didn’t understand or she didn’t care because what I got in response was,
"Arretez murmure et m'aider a transporter ce chez moi."
“Huh?” I shrugged rather rudely.
“Garçon stupide ! AIIC vous voyez, que je suis une jeune femme âgée dans le besoin ?”
“I’m sorry but I don’t understand you. Can you speak English?”
She obviously wanted help with something from the frantic animation of her voice, so I approached her, trying to keep a friendly... probably stupid looking... grin on my face so she knew I was friendly.
Unceremoniously she dumped the stack of dry timber in my arms. I buckled forward unprepared for the sudden weight but quickly caught it all and straightened my back, though the bottle of wine I'd been carrying landing with a dull thud in the pine needle covered earth.
"Maintenant me porter a travers l'eau." The wizened old woman barked in order.
What she did next I was completely unprepared for. She tried to hop onto my back, she was expecting some sort of piggyback ride or something. All I knew was I felt arms around my neck and a weight tugging me down, I thought I was under attack.
“What the hell!” I exclaimed and threw her off. She stumbled backwards and fell into the brook, a look of absolute hatred readable on her face as the water soaked into her clothes.
My bag with all my things in it had also landed in the brook.
“You stupid man. Look at what you have done!”
It took me a moment to register she had just spoken to me in English but before I could apologise she was speaking again.
“Your ignorance caused this, you are like a child, you don’t know what to do in this place, can’t listen to your elders. You need time to learn our language and our manners before you can be allowed to live here.”
How did she know I intended to live here?
“You have shamed me. Now I am going to shame you and give you time. I hope you use it wisely and learn.”
Dumbfounded I watched her cup water from the stream into her wrinkly hands hands, then raise it to her lips to drink. Rising from the water she drew herself as tall as could and spat in my eyes.
Naturally I blinked and tried to wipe the stuff from my face, but once I opened them again she was gone and I mean seriously gone, I looked all around but there was no sign of her.
Noticing the lengthen shadows of the trees I decided not to dwell on whatever it was that had just happened and pressed on. In my haste to get back before dark, I forgot the bag lying in the brook... The really dumb thing was that I did remember to pick up the half finished wine bottle after I dumped the old woman’s wood. Obviously I had my priorities straight...
As the last slither of the sun began to dip behind the mountains and the land all around me was turning a sort of bluish grey tone as darkness smoothed the valley, I finally came into view of the lights of the town. I was exhausted from walking, somewhat drunk, and well honestly rather freaked out what had happened on the mountainside, so it was no surprise when I felt a headache brewing and my head spinning.
It got worse though. As I desperately strove towards the glowing orange lights of the town and the promise of somewhere safe, my legs didn’t seem to obey me, I staggered along in a zigzag line until I stumble and feel.
I remember breathing in the horribly dry dust of the road and I remember feeling a wetness soak into my clothes, then it became really really difficult to move or keep my eyes open.
I must have been dying, my mind concluded, the old woman had somehow poisoned me.
Strangely though I was oddly relaxed about dying. You would think I would have thought about my family or seen my life flashing before my eyes. I’m sorry to say that didn’t happen, all I felt was a compulsive urge to sleep and shortly I blacked out.

Colette sighed as slowly walked home. Today had started bad and then proceeded to go downhill. She hadn't slept well last night, and had to drag herself to work this morning. Normally being a teacher at the small towns sole school was extremely fullfilling, but today the problem children had apparently had a problem child meeting and decided as a group to all misbehave in concert. Then the principal had called her during lunch to talk about not being "firm" with her students, curse that pompous... she would not swear, even in her head. And lastly the parents of a different teachers student had been late picking up the child, and she had volunteered to wait witht he child while the other teacher went home to her own kids. And of course the father hadn't shown up till nearly sundown, stinking of wine. Cursed drunk.

So now Colette finally was able to head for home. Living in a small town at least meant that it wasn't to far to walk home, but after today every step seemed like a step to far. Even pretty countryside scenery didn't seem as pleasant after...."Oh my God..."

Lying by the side of the path was an a body, wrapped loosely in too large clothes and covered with a red liquid. Colette instantly leapt forward to check on the person. Oh she hopped they weren't to badly hurt, the nearest hospital was all the way in Lyon.

Reaching the side of the body Colette was simultaneously relieved and annoyed to find the liquid was wine. "Another drunk she thought. Still, better than the alternative, and with that she set about inspecting the person further. Colette was shocked to find the person was a girl, about, fifteen, sixteen maybe if she was generous, probably not even that. The girl was wearing what looked like the clothes of an adult man, much to large for her. She was also sick, beyond what Colette normally saw with those who drank to much, so either the girl had partaken a colasal amount of wine, or she was ill on top of being drunk. Either way she needed help.

Colette thought for a moment, there was a nurse in town who handled most of the minor medical problems, but her house was across town and Colette couldn't carry the girl that far. Her house however was much closer. Colette decided she'd take the girl there and put her in the guest room and tend the child herself. She'd call the nurse tommorow, or if the girls condition took a turn for the worse, she could drive the child over in her car. The small automobile spent most of its time in garage anyway, mostly only coming out when she went to Lyons, good to get some use out of it.

Having decided on a plan, Colette gathered the girl up in her arms. As she began to carry her new charge home, she noticed with some surprise that the girl had wet herself. "You poor thing, you've been hit hard by this, well don't worry, I'll help you" Colette continued to walk home.

I’m pleased to report I didn’t die after all, no I’m sure the old witch who cursed me would have thought that all too easy, so instead of dying, I woke up.
I remember feeling really good. My senses slowly being awaked by warm soft sunlight drifting through the window. Soft downy pillows cushioned my head and luxuriously comfortable duvet gently pressed my body into the mattress. It was a wonder I woke at all. It was so much nicer than the roadside.
‘Woah! Hang on. The roadside?’ my thoughts screamed as my last memory floated into frame, ‘Where on earth was I now?’
I threw back the covers to climb out of the foreign bed... amazing how quickly your perception of something can change, a moment ago I probably would have snoozed the whole day away in it...
The covers gone, it was revealed I was wearing what at the time I thought was a hospital gown, a sort of shirt that was way too long, falling down to my knees.
It was a strange hospital, it looked more like the spare room to a quite country cottage, but I supposed I was in a rural area. I should at least have been grateful someone took me into care but where were they? Also why was the room built unusually tall. I’m an architect student you see so I had an instant eye for that sort of thing.
As I moved towards the door I felt wet fabric cling uncomfortably to my butt. ‘Ah I spilt the wine.’ I told myself, remembering I had felt my clothes getting wet when I had fallen last night, but my self satisfaction in solving the mystery was sort lived when It dawn on me these were of course new clothes.
‘No. It couldn’t be.’ I tried to tell myself. I couldn’t have wet myself.
Touched a hand to my damp bottom, I intended to smell it for the telling scent of urine, but my hand froze in place. I realise this is quite a strange thing to write but I have to give an honest account so I’ll just say it plainly. My bum felt wrong. As in I could tell just from the shape of it, it wasn’t mine. Had I been horribly injured or something?... yeah I’m embarrassed to admit but I seriously thought at that point iImight have had some sort of bum transplant operation. If that’s even possible?...
There was a tall dusty mirror in one corner, I hurried to it and wiped off the dust, denying to myself that my hands looked noticeably thinner.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, when the reflection I saw was not of a 20 year old man but a 15 year old girl.
“Oh my God!” I declared again in an even higher octave as I noticed the voice I was using was also that of a girl’s.
It was too strange. It couldn’t have possibly been happening. It was a dream. All a dream.
I found myself staring at the girl in the mirror.
She had my blue eyes, but wide and feminine.
And she had my black hair, but really long.
I watched as the mirror girl reached to touch her small nose. I felt the touch upon my own skin.
So it really was me in the mirror.
I felt tears brewing in my eyes and impulsively dived into the bed, pounding the pillows with my fists as the tears rolled down my cheeks unnoticed.
Needless to say I used every swearword I had ever learnt. Until I felt the wetness of the mattress beneath me against my knees and was forced to confront the reality that I had indeed wet the bed last night.
I sobbed sadly like a thing with no hopes left.

Colette sat in her living room sipping tea. She liked tea, it always made her feel better after a hard day. Brushing her curly brown hair out of her eyes, the young teacher thought back on the day.

Carrying the girl home hadn't been as hard as she would have thought, the girl was surprisingly lite for her size. Once home it had been relatively simple to strip off her clothes and wrap the child in a blanket. Collette had then gotten a basin of warm watter and a cloth to wipe down the girls body. Finishing she'd dressed her in an old nightshirt and tucked her into the spair room bed. The room hadn't been used in quite some time, but the bed was warm.

That had been over an hour ago. Colette had called the local constable's office, but he'd gone home, and she didn't know his home number. "Doesn't he have an assistant who fills in when he's home. Where is he? Oh well, she'd try again tommorow. there might be someone looking for the girl, she hoped there was. It would be sad for such a vulnerable child to have no parents.

"Then again, drunk as she was, maybe she does have no parents" That was a sad thought. Still no point in worrying about it now. The girl was here and seemed to be doing better, that was what was important. Last time Colette had checked the girl seemed to be recovering.

Colette put her teacup in the sink and was just about to go to bed when she heard a calamity of shouts and sobs coming from the guestroom. Colette immediatly took off to see what was the problem.

When she arrived, she found the pretty girl lying face down in the bed bawling like a baby. "Poor thing must have woke up and got scared when she didn't realize where she was" Colette walked slowly over to her, speaking in a soothing voice "Its alright child, you're safe, I'm going ot help you"

Reaching the girl Colette sat on the bed next to her, taking the child in her arms and pulling the little one onto her lap. "There there dear" Colette looked down at the child. She was adorable, and the simple with nightshirt seemed to give her an air of innocence. And such pretty eyes, big and blue and soulful, and wet with tears. Colette had always felt her own light brown eyes were boring, this girl had the eyes she had always wanted as a child. She fought the urge to squeeze the beutiful creature in her arms, fearing that would only frighten her more. Instead she continued to hug her gently, stroking her silky hair with one hand.

As she continued to gaze at the child she realized that the girl had again wet herself, and likely that meant Colette's clothes were also wet from pulling her into her lap. This annoyed her a little, but that was quickly replaced by concern, the girl must have been really out of it. "Its alright dear child. I'll help you, my name is Colette Marchal, you can call me Colette. What's your name dear?

I was so caught up in my own sorrow I didn't even notice the french woman's approach until she laid hands on me.
I was too shocked to fight back, so she had me in her arms without a struggle. It happened so fast and seemed so vague I didn't even get a chance to see her face properly, I just felt her curly brown hair tickling my face and heard her speaking away in her soft voice.
I was still crying of course. As this complete stranger loamed over me, another indication that I had indeed srunk over a foot! Stiffly I tried to resist her attentions as I felt strange hands runing through strange hair. I knew she meant well but the fact I could feel it all was reinforcement that this was all real. How could all of this be real!
I fought to control myself and achieved a small victory, my tears stopped, however I began to tremble instead, feeling sick in my stomach.
The woman's arm's were around me and I felt absolutely torn in two. Half of me resented the eveloping touch, it felt opressive and made me feel small, the other half of me honestly just wanted to rest against her shoulder and let her deal with all my problems. The woman definatly had a motherly quality about her. Part of me wondered if perhaps she was a mother and I had somehow switched bodies with her teenage daughther? I had no idea how this person was going to react when she found out the truth. Unfortunatly it seemed it would have to come out sooner or later as from the torrent of french words being spoken I recognised,
'mon nom est Colette Marchal' and 'Quelle est votre chère nom?'
"My name is Joseph Kingston." I told her in French, but didn't trust myself to say anything more, the soft girl's tone I was speaking in was just so different from the man's voice I was still hearing my thoughts in.

Colette blinked."Joseph? Who on earth would name a beuatiful girl like you Joseph? Well, I guess that's not what matters. So tell me JO "Colette found it hard to refer to such a feminine child as Joseph, so opted for a gender neutral nickname "what happened to you? I found you passed out by the side of the road, wearing bulky mens clothers and covered with wine. Can you tell me what happened?" Then a thought occured to Colette. "And where are you from, who are your parents, do you want to call anyone" What had happened wasn't as important as finding out the childs home so she could be returned to it as soon as possible.

Collette smiled and the girl as she talked, continuing to stroke her hair and cuddle her. She thought that she'd have to run a bath for the girl, and get both of them some new clothes. And maybe change the bedsheets. But that could wait, first she had to hear the girls story.

'Jo!' I groaned in my mind, the woman didn't believe me.
As I sat in Colette's lap being slowly comforted into a less distressed state of mind I tried to work out what on earth I was going to do.
All the while she kept talking in French. I could guess at a word here and there but she spoke it so incredibly fast. I was at a complete loss and had to miserably admit,
"I can't speak much french. I'm English." And I doubted that any phrases books adequately covered my situation.
In English I tried to explain my story. Prohaps she knew some English?
"My name IS Joe. I was a guy but yesterday I met this crazy old lady on the mountside and she did something to me. Thank you for letting me sleep here but I need to find her so she can change me back."
In all fairness the story sounded looney, but as far as I can tell that's exactly what happened.
I dedcided I needed to find the old lady and as lovely as Colette might seem, sitting with here all day wasn't going to change me back.
I attempted to climb out of her arms.

"Oh, oh my" The girl not speaking French was going to be a bit of a problem, because the the only english words Colette new were some dirty words she'd been taught as a child. As she pondered this new problem, the child climbed out of her arms.

"Want to get up now? Colette released the girl a bit reluctantly, she was very soft and nice to hold. But apparantly the girl didn't want to be held anymore, so she let go.

This left only the problem of communication unanswered. Colette struggled with what to do, keeping a smile plastered on her face to try and reassure the girl. The real problem was she didnt' know anyone who spock english... well, maybe someone at the school. She vaguely recalled the principal Mrs. Agnes had traveled abroad, maybe she knew some. Still Agnes was alseep in her own bed, and probably wouldn't be availible till tommorow, so how to solve this right now?

Not sure what else to do, Colette decided that the problem could wait long enough to get the girl cleaned. That wouldn't require to many words, would it. Standing up Colette took the girl by the hand and gestured to soaked her crotch. "You're wet Jo, lets clean you up"

So I had a plan in mind. I was going to find the old woman and force her to change me back. The problem with plans is they generally need information to flesh them out and make them possible.
I didn't even know what was beyond the door to this room, never mind where the Old woman lived.
I pouted as I struggled to think up a solution and before I knew it Colette had taken my hand.
"Hey!" I yelped. I had thought when she had let me down from her lap she had understood I needed to go. However her gesture was all the communication that was needed.
I felt my cheeks warming slightly, going outside to look for a witch, dressed in a wet nightshirt probably wasn't the greatest idea I had ever had. Not to mention it probably counted as being indecently dressed in public (I had looked up some general French Laws, just to be on the safe side before I came over.)
Hanging my head in shame and simply too emotionally confused to protest, I let Colette lead me.

Fortunately the girl seemed to be cooperative. She also was rather despondent at the site of her wet shirt, but that was perfectly understandable. Colette wouldn't have been to happy to find herself in a urine soaked shirt either. "Don't worry sweety, we'll get you all cleaned up" the girl might not understand her words, but Colette hoped she could at least understand the reasuring tone.

Colette led the child to a bathroom. There she released the girl and began filling the tub with warm water, using her hand to test the temperature. She set out the soap and then gestured for the girl to take off her clothes and climb into the tub.