Family Ties [Part 82]
Sep. 12th, 2010 09:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hellzabethTitle: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): France, Scotland, England, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Wales, Denmark, Germany, Hungary, Austria, Czech and Slovakia.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Disturbing imagery, mood whiplash, unending sap.
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
France's legs failed him in the cold, and he allowed himself to be carried by Scotland around the smoldering city. People jumped from 10 story high windows to hopeful loved ones on the ground to escape the flames, others not so lucky, rolling on the ground to an all-too-still halt. The tried not to dwell on it, these people weren't theirs to feel for. That was Russia's job, a job he was apparently neglecting in favor of his little game with America.
Or maybe he was just screwed up enough to like this sort of thing.
It was all France could do not to have flashbacks to 300 years ago as they peeled the boots off dead soldiers' feet to warm themselves and keep them going. In the chaos they were easily able to avoid the scrambled army units and the panicked civilians, creeping between buildings no matter how precarious and dangerous they were.
Somehow the rumble of Scotland's stomach could be heard over the bombs and gunfire.
"James, did you eat today." France deadpanned, knowing the answer.
"Er." The red head adjusted his grip on his lover. "Not really?"
"Are you the reason there was extra food on my plate?"
"Hey, I ate a little bit!" Scotland protested, but it was weakened under the force of France's reproachful glare. "Like... a whole potato..." A quirked eyebrow and Scotland frowned. "Look, you're the one too weak t' walk, I'm just lookin' out for ye."
The words echoed painfully with older ones in France's head. "No. No, no you don't. Don't you do that again." he mumbled, close enough to Scotland's ear for the other man to barely make it out. "Just- we're equals, alright. You don't need to do stupid things for me."
"I want to, though." he insisted. "I mean, it's not that I think ye can't look after yerself most of the time, ye can, but I still wanna... protect ye, and all that...." France could feel the heat of Scotland's blush through the scarf they'd pilfered off someone who no longer needed it. "So I'm, er, gonna have tae tell ye to shut up for a while until I'm done doin' my protective thing. Aye?"
France buried his face in Scotland's shoulder. "Idiot."
"Yeah yeah, I know."
A brick fell from above, clattering a few feet away from where Scotland stood. Blinking, both men looked up at the precariously balanced wall, leaning on the wall of the next house, creating a very unstable archway over them. An archway that was now starting to crumble, brick by brick.
"Oh shit." muttered Scotland, just as an apparently very important brick fell, bringing the whole thing down with it.
---
"Turn left here."
"Ten euro that Artie's wrong again!"
"I'll raise you twenty pounds!"
"Thirty!"
"Shut up!" yelled England, turning in his seat to glare at his siblings, who were all grinning at him. The streets of Moscow were a winding mess, confusion aided by the various craters and collapsed buildings in the way. The map was practically useless at this stage but England insisted on it anyway, his siblings mocking him the whole way. "The map says that way, then it's that way!"
"Only the funny thing is, Artie, you can't read a map to save your life!" Ireland laughed. "Give it to Darren, he'll sort it out. He's been your navigator since forever, right?"
Wales rolled his eyes. "Way to belittle my short lived independence, sis." But all the same he snatched the map from his brother, ignoring protests. "Left at the second exit, not the first. It looks like they join but it's really a different one."
"Aye cap'n!" crowed Denmark, keeping out of the familial arguments for his own safety, turning down the second exit at speeds he usually would have been stopped for, had traffic wardens cared for it currently.
As soon as he did, however, a house to the left of them, leaning dangerously on its neighbour, collapsed in a woosh of dust and smoke. Instinctively he slammed on the breaks, but still felt something heavy hit the front of the car. The dust got in through the air vents, making the occupants cough slightly.
"C-can this thing take having a house fall on it?" North asked, squinting his eyes shut.
"Should do!" Denmark replied, wafting his hand in the air in front of his face to clear it. The dust outside settled, blown away by the winter wind. "North, can you turn the turret around and check for enemies?" The younger Nation did so, turning a full 360 before giving the other a thumbs up. "Okay, I'm gonna check what we hit. Might need to back up and use another road. Trees this thing can take, a whole house not so much."
"Careful out there Denny." Ireland warned, passing him a neo-silenced pistol. The Nordic Nation nodded in thanks and stepped out of the vehicle, creeping into the dust as the rest of the passengers waited with baited breath.
---
The dust was in Scotland's eyes, and he couldn't see a thing. He could hear France breathing, or coughing, about a foot away from him, having lost grip when he had to throw them both out of the way of the collapsing house. But he was okay, they were both okay for now, but he needed to get moving again before anyone found them.
Judging from the footsteps, someone already had.
Squinting, the red head saw a silhouette against the dust-clouded hair, walking closer to a smaller person on the floor. The latter was clearly France, but when the former started to lean down with a gun in hand, Scotland sprang into action. He knocked the figure back into some kind of massive truck, not that he cared. A bullet whizzed past his ear, nicking it if the hot trail down his neck was any clue, though it was soon healing and he didn't care. It did piss him off though.
"Fuck off ya bastard!" he yelled, punching the guy in the face. Behind him, France got to his feet and stumbled unsteadily over.
"James, what's going on?"
"Scotty?" rasped the person. Scotland's fist paused in mid air. "Scotty, is that you?"
A crease formed between massive eyebrows. "Denmark? What the fuck are ye doin' here?"
A light laugh came from him, and James wondered if he'd perhaps hit his old drinking buddy a little too hard. "Oh man, you have no idea how great this is. Now you can save me from your family."
It took a moment for that to sink in. "From my- what?!"
The door of the massive truck (what the fuck was this thing anyway?) opened, and an all too familiar face appeared.
"Holy mother of God." gaped England, who was quickly pushed out of the way by the rest of the British Isles. Scotland had very little say in the matter as Northern Ireland, Ireland and Wales all piled on top of him in a massive group hug that sent the whole lot of them to the floor. England would later claim he was swept along by the crowd. His grip on his older brother told a slightly different story. The five of them on the dusty, snowy road in the middle of a bombed out Moscow, acted for once in their life like the family they were.
"I feel like I'm intruding." France said, a small smile on his face as he leaned on the hood of the truck for support. Denmark made a bemused sound of agreement. As though this sound broke the spell, England wrestled his way out of the pile and stood, adjusting his uniform with an embarrassed red tint to his cheeks.
"Well." He cleared his throat, trying to look imperiously down his nose at France. "I suppose this is the one time I'll be glad to see your face, France."
"I missed you too, Angleterre." Beaten up though he was, France was still together enough to blow a kiss at his long-time rival, who shuddered and made a childishly grossed out face. "I suppose you've come to be big damn heroes and rescue myself and mon cher Ecosse, but we escaped on our own, without you. Sorry to ruin your day."
Wales and Ireland finally released their brother, but North clung like a limpet to the taller red head's side. He got up anyway, clingy teenager or not. "And if yer lookin' for Russia, he ain't here."
"We knew that." Darren said. "And we actually had no idea you were in Moscow. We were going to come look for you later when we were done with our orders."
"Wait, hold on, back up." James held up one hand, the other still trying to push Éibhear off him. "You're taking orders from America now? I thought it was just the NWO that had to deal with a fucked up hierarchy."
There was a collective shrug. Scotland rolled his eyes. "I leave ye alone for two years and yer all followin' someone else around like a flock o' bloody sheep."
"I take offense to that comment." Wales piped up, punching his brother on the arm. "Not like we have a choice, he's been running off and doin' crazy shit." He sighed. "Hands up if you want this war over already."
Everyone in the group put their hands up. Scotland used the opportunity of North's one handed grip on him to escape and hold the little urchin at arm's length.
"Right." England nodded, a small smirk appearing. "Then how about we do what we came here to do, climb back in to the truck, and capture the NWO Executive Leader and go home for drinks at the pub. All in favor?"
"Aye!" Everyone, even Denmark cheered, though France broke trend with his own "oui".
---
Germany stared at the remains of Kiev with a sinking feeling in his heart. He and his soldiers were silent as they lead the weeping, concrete-dust coated Ukrainian civilians out of the burning wreckage and into buses, ready to transfer them to refugee camps. This gray, washed out scene burned with familiarity, and it made it hard to breathe.
"Ludwig?" asked Hungary softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He finally noticed he was starting to breath irregularly, hyperventilate, and calmed himself. The shorter woman took him by the arm and turned him away from the scene. "Come on, let's go."
"I want to watch." He said softly. "I want to see what we're doing. I can't close my eyes to this."
"I know." Hungary assured, leading him to where Czech, Slovakia and Austria hovered by a humming military jeep. "But for the sake of your own sanity, you might need to look away for just a moment."
Their boots crunched on the ruined street, rubble and chunks of pavement grinding underfoot. "They weren't as prepared as we were told they were. Some of them weren't even armed." Blood, invisible, stained their hands today. "We shot them anyway."
"We did." the brunette acknowledged. "But that's something to dwell on later. Now, we have to pick up the pieces where we can. From here on out, we will be deciding for ourselves what we do, not listening to America's plans. Clearly, there are wires being crossed somewhere." Her lips formed a stern line. "And we didn't find Ukraine."
"I'm worried." Slovakia said as they approached, tones hushed but clear as usual. "Winter approaches and the fields are shelled to pieces. Ukraine struggles every year anyway. What if..."
"We'll have to help her, prav." Czech asserted, though she seemed less bright than usual. "No use regretting the past now when we have the future to worry about, prav."
"Quite right." Austria nodded, looking quite uncomfortable in modern military uniform, puffed out with warm padding and bullet-proof fabric rather than his usual elegance. "We shall have to regroup and discuss properly- ah." A flake of snow landed on his nose, making him go briefly cross-eyed. He rubbed it off as the rest of the group looked skyward at the heavy gray clouds, the first flakes of snow falling on them. "I suppose we should take this as a sign to get inside."
Germany glanced behind him and for a brief moment wondered if there was any distinction in colour between the clouds and the smoke.
Notes:
- Aaaaaand mood whiplash! I instruct you all, if you downloaded the FST, to listen to the last section with "Furyo" on. ^^
- The Brit sibs! Are back together! For the first time! In two years! BOOYAH!
Part 83
Characters (in this chapter): France, Scotland, England, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Wales, Denmark, Germany, Hungary, Austria, Czech and Slovakia.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Disturbing imagery, mood whiplash, unending sap.
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
France's legs failed him in the cold, and he allowed himself to be carried by Scotland around the smoldering city. People jumped from 10 story high windows to hopeful loved ones on the ground to escape the flames, others not so lucky, rolling on the ground to an all-too-still halt. The tried not to dwell on it, these people weren't theirs to feel for. That was Russia's job, a job he was apparently neglecting in favor of his little game with America.
Or maybe he was just screwed up enough to like this sort of thing.
It was all France could do not to have flashbacks to 300 years ago as they peeled the boots off dead soldiers' feet to warm themselves and keep them going. In the chaos they were easily able to avoid the scrambled army units and the panicked civilians, creeping between buildings no matter how precarious and dangerous they were.
Somehow the rumble of Scotland's stomach could be heard over the bombs and gunfire.
"James, did you eat today." France deadpanned, knowing the answer.
"Er." The red head adjusted his grip on his lover. "Not really?"
"Are you the reason there was extra food on my plate?"
"Hey, I ate a little bit!" Scotland protested, but it was weakened under the force of France's reproachful glare. "Like... a whole potato..." A quirked eyebrow and Scotland frowned. "Look, you're the one too weak t' walk, I'm just lookin' out for ye."
The words echoed painfully with older ones in France's head. "No. No, no you don't. Don't you do that again." he mumbled, close enough to Scotland's ear for the other man to barely make it out. "Just- we're equals, alright. You don't need to do stupid things for me."
"I want to, though." he insisted. "I mean, it's not that I think ye can't look after yerself most of the time, ye can, but I still wanna... protect ye, and all that...." France could feel the heat of Scotland's blush through the scarf they'd pilfered off someone who no longer needed it. "So I'm, er, gonna have tae tell ye to shut up for a while until I'm done doin' my protective thing. Aye?"
France buried his face in Scotland's shoulder. "Idiot."
"Yeah yeah, I know."
A brick fell from above, clattering a few feet away from where Scotland stood. Blinking, both men looked up at the precariously balanced wall, leaning on the wall of the next house, creating a very unstable archway over them. An archway that was now starting to crumble, brick by brick.
"Oh shit." muttered Scotland, just as an apparently very important brick fell, bringing the whole thing down with it.
---
"Turn left here."
"Ten euro that Artie's wrong again!"
"I'll raise you twenty pounds!"
"Thirty!"
"Shut up!" yelled England, turning in his seat to glare at his siblings, who were all grinning at him. The streets of Moscow were a winding mess, confusion aided by the various craters and collapsed buildings in the way. The map was practically useless at this stage but England insisted on it anyway, his siblings mocking him the whole way. "The map says that way, then it's that way!"
"Only the funny thing is, Artie, you can't read a map to save your life!" Ireland laughed. "Give it to Darren, he'll sort it out. He's been your navigator since forever, right?"
Wales rolled his eyes. "Way to belittle my short lived independence, sis." But all the same he snatched the map from his brother, ignoring protests. "Left at the second exit, not the first. It looks like they join but it's really a different one."
"Aye cap'n!" crowed Denmark, keeping out of the familial arguments for his own safety, turning down the second exit at speeds he usually would have been stopped for, had traffic wardens cared for it currently.
As soon as he did, however, a house to the left of them, leaning dangerously on its neighbour, collapsed in a woosh of dust and smoke. Instinctively he slammed on the breaks, but still felt something heavy hit the front of the car. The dust got in through the air vents, making the occupants cough slightly.
"C-can this thing take having a house fall on it?" North asked, squinting his eyes shut.
"Should do!" Denmark replied, wafting his hand in the air in front of his face to clear it. The dust outside settled, blown away by the winter wind. "North, can you turn the turret around and check for enemies?" The younger Nation did so, turning a full 360 before giving the other a thumbs up. "Okay, I'm gonna check what we hit. Might need to back up and use another road. Trees this thing can take, a whole house not so much."
"Careful out there Denny." Ireland warned, passing him a neo-silenced pistol. The Nordic Nation nodded in thanks and stepped out of the vehicle, creeping into the dust as the rest of the passengers waited with baited breath.
---
The dust was in Scotland's eyes, and he couldn't see a thing. He could hear France breathing, or coughing, about a foot away from him, having lost grip when he had to throw them both out of the way of the collapsing house. But he was okay, they were both okay for now, but he needed to get moving again before anyone found them.
Judging from the footsteps, someone already had.
Squinting, the red head saw a silhouette against the dust-clouded hair, walking closer to a smaller person on the floor. The latter was clearly France, but when the former started to lean down with a gun in hand, Scotland sprang into action. He knocked the figure back into some kind of massive truck, not that he cared. A bullet whizzed past his ear, nicking it if the hot trail down his neck was any clue, though it was soon healing and he didn't care. It did piss him off though.
"Fuck off ya bastard!" he yelled, punching the guy in the face. Behind him, France got to his feet and stumbled unsteadily over.
"James, what's going on?"
"Scotty?" rasped the person. Scotland's fist paused in mid air. "Scotty, is that you?"
A crease formed between massive eyebrows. "Denmark? What the fuck are ye doin' here?"
A light laugh came from him, and James wondered if he'd perhaps hit his old drinking buddy a little too hard. "Oh man, you have no idea how great this is. Now you can save me from your family."
It took a moment for that to sink in. "From my- what?!"
The door of the massive truck (what the fuck was this thing anyway?) opened, and an all too familiar face appeared.
"Holy mother of God." gaped England, who was quickly pushed out of the way by the rest of the British Isles. Scotland had very little say in the matter as Northern Ireland, Ireland and Wales all piled on top of him in a massive group hug that sent the whole lot of them to the floor. England would later claim he was swept along by the crowd. His grip on his older brother told a slightly different story. The five of them on the dusty, snowy road in the middle of a bombed out Moscow, acted for once in their life like the family they were.
"I feel like I'm intruding." France said, a small smile on his face as he leaned on the hood of the truck for support. Denmark made a bemused sound of agreement. As though this sound broke the spell, England wrestled his way out of the pile and stood, adjusting his uniform with an embarrassed red tint to his cheeks.
"Well." He cleared his throat, trying to look imperiously down his nose at France. "I suppose this is the one time I'll be glad to see your face, France."
"I missed you too, Angleterre." Beaten up though he was, France was still together enough to blow a kiss at his long-time rival, who shuddered and made a childishly grossed out face. "I suppose you've come to be big damn heroes and rescue myself and mon cher Ecosse, but we escaped on our own, without you. Sorry to ruin your day."
Wales and Ireland finally released their brother, but North clung like a limpet to the taller red head's side. He got up anyway, clingy teenager or not. "And if yer lookin' for Russia, he ain't here."
"We knew that." Darren said. "And we actually had no idea you were in Moscow. We were going to come look for you later when we were done with our orders."
"Wait, hold on, back up." James held up one hand, the other still trying to push Éibhear off him. "You're taking orders from America now? I thought it was just the NWO that had to deal with a fucked up hierarchy."
There was a collective shrug. Scotland rolled his eyes. "I leave ye alone for two years and yer all followin' someone else around like a flock o' bloody sheep."
"I take offense to that comment." Wales piped up, punching his brother on the arm. "Not like we have a choice, he's been running off and doin' crazy shit." He sighed. "Hands up if you want this war over already."
Everyone in the group put their hands up. Scotland used the opportunity of North's one handed grip on him to escape and hold the little urchin at arm's length.
"Right." England nodded, a small smirk appearing. "Then how about we do what we came here to do, climb back in to the truck, and capture the NWO Executive Leader and go home for drinks at the pub. All in favor?"
"Aye!" Everyone, even Denmark cheered, though France broke trend with his own "oui".
---
Germany stared at the remains of Kiev with a sinking feeling in his heart. He and his soldiers were silent as they lead the weeping, concrete-dust coated Ukrainian civilians out of the burning wreckage and into buses, ready to transfer them to refugee camps. This gray, washed out scene burned with familiarity, and it made it hard to breathe.
"Ludwig?" asked Hungary softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He finally noticed he was starting to breath irregularly, hyperventilate, and calmed himself. The shorter woman took him by the arm and turned him away from the scene. "Come on, let's go."
"I want to watch." He said softly. "I want to see what we're doing. I can't close my eyes to this."
"I know." Hungary assured, leading him to where Czech, Slovakia and Austria hovered by a humming military jeep. "But for the sake of your own sanity, you might need to look away for just a moment."
Their boots crunched on the ruined street, rubble and chunks of pavement grinding underfoot. "They weren't as prepared as we were told they were. Some of them weren't even armed." Blood, invisible, stained their hands today. "We shot them anyway."
"We did." the brunette acknowledged. "But that's something to dwell on later. Now, we have to pick up the pieces where we can. From here on out, we will be deciding for ourselves what we do, not listening to America's plans. Clearly, there are wires being crossed somewhere." Her lips formed a stern line. "And we didn't find Ukraine."
"I'm worried." Slovakia said as they approached, tones hushed but clear as usual. "Winter approaches and the fields are shelled to pieces. Ukraine struggles every year anyway. What if..."
"We'll have to help her, prav." Czech asserted, though she seemed less bright than usual. "No use regretting the past now when we have the future to worry about, prav."
"Quite right." Austria nodded, looking quite uncomfortable in modern military uniform, puffed out with warm padding and bullet-proof fabric rather than his usual elegance. "We shall have to regroup and discuss properly- ah." A flake of snow landed on his nose, making him go briefly cross-eyed. He rubbed it off as the rest of the group looked skyward at the heavy gray clouds, the first flakes of snow falling on them. "I suppose we should take this as a sign to get inside."
Germany glanced behind him and for a brief moment wondered if there was any distinction in colour between the clouds and the smoke.
Notes:
- Aaaaaand mood whiplash! I instruct you all, if you downloaded the FST, to listen to the last section with "Furyo" on. ^^
- The Brit sibs! Are back together! For the first time! In two years! BOOYAH!
Part 83
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-09-12 08:59 pm (UTC)They're in Moscow. They wouldn't care anyway.
;A;bb♥ The whole family together again. I didn't expect them to meet so soon BUT I'M NOT COMPLAINING.
Somebody please take care of France's wounds properly already.
... And of course you have to depress me at the end.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-12 09:02 pm (UTC)IT'S A GOOD THING NOW SHUSH the gooey, mushy moment could rot teeth, I swear.
Indeed, not much medical treatment in prison when the guards don't give a damn.
But of course.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-12 09:33 pm (UTC)Also, I won't lie and say I didn't awwww-ed like a stupid retarded preteen when the Kirkland family had their little moment
and when England, quite in character, went all tsundere on usI-I'm kind of afraid to read ahead but damn this thing is more addicting than Mexican speed balls ;D
no subject
Date: 2010-09-12 10:17 pm (UTC)Well it was meant to be aww-worthy so mission accomplished!
The tsun remains untarnished despite the sudden burst of dere. For Scotland. The world trembles.I don't think I want to know what Mexican speed balls are do I.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-12 11:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-12 11:16 pm (UTC)I'm feeling really sorry for Germany. Poor guy wanted to stay well out of this one but he got dragged in anyway.:(
And Austria is without his cravat? The world must be ending! Next you'll tell me his piano is gone!:D
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 02:33 pm (UTC)All he wanted to do was have a peaceful century or so, is that too much to ask for? (Answer: in Europe? Yes.)
Sweetie, I have some bad news...
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 04:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-12 11:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 02:34 pm (UTC)Ukraine is certainly getting the short end of the stick, but some would say it's justified, since she did (accidentally) kill Canada.
So not murder, but manslaughter?no subject
Date: 2010-09-12 11:44 pm (UTC)"I suppose you've come to be big damn heroes and rescue myself and mon cher Ecosse.."
Oh my, is that a TV Tropes reference I see there?
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 02:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 12:15 am (UTC)And poor, Germany. I'd say that it's a shame that N. Italy's not there to brighten him up a bit, but even his sunny disposition would be cloudy in a situation like that.
I have a nasty feeling Ukraine won't get out of this war alive. (You're doing this form my America-is-off-his-rocker-and-fucking-scary icon, aren't you? :P)
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 03:00 pm (UTC)Depressing eh? Poor guy. He didn't even want to be in this war, but it was that or get invaded.
You should probably take asprin for that. (It's a funny icon okay I just like it.)
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 01:52 am (UTC)Will we get to see more batshit!America soon? I'm craving some crazy.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 03:01 pm (UTC)Uhuh. It'll be fun. /o/
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 03:02 pm (UTC)Lol yeah I update fast sorry. orz The chapter index is here if you need it. >>
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 02:59 am (UTC)Anyways.
WHEN DID AMERICA GET HIS SCREWED UP?! Ohkay, he always was but really.
FAMILY REUNIONS. <3 Wait, if America is goign to bomb Russia. And they're there, how will that work. AMERICA YOU.
Wales is so cute. <3
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 09:15 pm (UTC)SOMETHING TO DO WITH NOT HAVING HIS MORAL COMPASS AROUND ANY MORE. I.e. Canada.
Who said he was going to bomb Moscow? He just said attack, which is what he others are doing. There are a lot of cities in Russia, sweetie.
He protests that, but I agree <3
no subject
Date: 2010-09-14 12:19 am (UTC)SO CANADA IS LIKE. ALL THAT KEPT ALFRED FROM BEING INSANE? Actually that's known, but yeah.
Guess I'm not able to absorb anything anymore. //shrug
But then again, Russia is quite big. The men really have huge noses. Trust me.
I hope Wales is still sane though. I mean, his sibs and stuff. I'm on the verge of insanity with one sibling.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 06:11 am (UTC)Yeaaah!
Now someone get France to a fucking hospital and go rescue Poland and Lithuania while putting England on an airplane to America to slap some sense into him. B|
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 09:16 pm (UTC)All of these things in good time, my friend. They have a NWO HQ to storm first.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 09:24 pm (UTC)Now they have to go rescue Liet and Poland and then meet up with everyone else and then...... r-rescue Russia, Ukraine, and Mexico.....
Never thought I'd say they would have to rescue Russia but he and America should not be in the same space for both of their sakes. I still vote for Kumajirou mauling both of them until they start to behave.
On that note does Scotty still not know about Canada and nukes and stuff?
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 09:49 pm (UTC)It's like trying to tear two fighting dogs apart, ne? They only insist on making the other snarl more, because neither will back down. Someone needs to intervene. From the sounds of it it may well be England.
But you know what happens when you try to break up fighting dogs.Nope. France isn't about to tell him that shit. He knows about the nukes, but not Canada.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-14 05:50 am (UTC)I'm pressed for time so that is all.
But at the end I was like
DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD: I WANT TO HUG GERMANY
Big Damn Heroes? France, I never knew you spent time on TVTropes.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-14 02:55 pm (UTC)