Family Ties [Part 52]
Jun. 16th, 2010 05:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hellzabethTitle: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Prussia, France, Russia, Ukraine, Hong Kong, China.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Not much, just a bridge chapter.
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.
Things were not nearly so quiet on the French borders. The civilians hadn't taken kindly to German forces arriving, not at all. Rather, they'd grabbed whatever they could and were fighting tooth and nail to keep them out of the country. Pitchforks were thrown, tanks set on fire, and as the soldiers had been ordered not to harm the untrained civilian population, there was little they could do.
Prussia wondered just how informed these people were about the state of the war.
Luckily for him, he'd ditched the main invading force and was heading through more traditional methods to where he suspected France might be hiding. There was always this one bar in Mullhouse that he could trust to find his friend if he was ever in a real slump.
He knew enough passable French from hanging out with Francis for as long as he had to pass for a local, if he masked his accent. (Which he hated doing, but it was his pride verses being stabbed with the blunt end of a wooden spoon by a disgruntled housewife, which he didn't have the time to deal with right now.) Nobody looked at him twice anyway, which was good, though a slight blow to his ego. (People should be worshiping at his feet, the awesomeness he exuded being too great!) By the time he'd made it to the bar, he'd ditched the civilian car a couple of miles back and walked through the town centre like he owned the place. That usually seemed to work.
The bar was dimly lit and nearly empty, but it wasn't hard to find France slumped in his usual chair by the window. Prussia sat down on the seat across the table, making the blonde jump and stare at him. A large purple bruise on his cheek was only half hidden by the gauze that covered his ear and wrapped around his head. More bandages were wound around his wrists and his right hand, and no matter how well done up his collar was, he could see more white strips around his neck. He was sitting so as he wouldn't put any weight on his left side.
"You look like shit." Gilbert told him, and got a flat look in response. "No, seriously, what the fuck happened to you?"
A thin eyebrow rose. France opened his mouth a few times, then pointed to the bandages around his neck.
The albino frowned. "Geez, I know he likes to go for the neck but seriously?"
France wheezed, maybe a laugh or maybe a cough, then shrugged. Gilbert leaned forward, resting his arms on the table between them. He flicked out a piece of paper between his two fingers.
"West's sent me over here." he explained. "We're invading."
France's eyes widened, narrowed, flashed with some uncertainty and memories from times past, and finally settled on resignation.
"Hey, at least try and tell me off, yell or something." the Germanic Nation tried to joke, but the look on France's face dampened all humor. "Alright, fine, never mind that. That's only one of my jobs anyway." He waved the paper again, the sound of it flapping filling the empty bar. It was the middle of the day after all, sun streaming in through dusty windows. "I'm looking for info. Anything you can tell me."
France shook his head.
"Aw, come on Francis, help a guy out."
The other Nation placed his wrist on the table, and undid one of the bandages. Bright red and raw, there was a black tattoo. A tracking device.
"Shit." Prussia swore. France nodded. A silence fell as Prussia tried to think of something to get them out of this situation. An idea came.
"The code!"
France's look could probably amount to a flatly spoken "what."
Gilbert bounced up and down in his chair like an excited child. "That one you, me and Antonio used waaaaay back in that war with Austria! The one we made up but never used because it was all girly and flakey and shit! I am a fucking genius! Go me!"
Blue eyes stared. He took out a pen, grabbed the sheet of paper and started writing. It was with his left hand, as his right looked like it'd had a bad time trying to defend against something large, metal and pipe-shaped, but the writing was legible enough for him to read it.
You said that last part in German. The barkeeper has to have heard you, you're so loud. They'll get the others in here any minute. France flashed the note at him, in French so far, then started writing again, this time in the code. Flowers bloom by the shore, the orchard grove wilts in the wind faster than ice in the sun.
It took Prussia a while to figure out the code, rusty from disuse, as well as the new code he had to guess at from the context.
Warn Spain, Portugal is next to be nuked, he will vanish faster than Canada.
-----
Russia sat at his desk, staring at the map on his computer screen blankly. The borders of Belarus vanished, becoming Russian territory.
Well. His sister had gotten what she'd wanted in the end.
Something hot and wet hit his hands where they were folded in his lap. Looking down, it appeared to be water. He peered at the ceiling for leaks, and found none. The next drop rolled down his neck. This was confusing. By the third, he touched his face, feeling it come away from his cheeks wet.
Ah.
He was crying.
He hadn't cried in years. Decades, nearly. His body shuddered and shook, and before he knew it he'd buried his face in his arms, slumping onto the desk and feeling like his heart was going to fall out again, or simply fail from the unusual ache.
"Syestra..."
-----
Ukraine did not cry for her sister. Her tears would not come. The hole in her heart burned more painfully than any tears or radiation drifts ever would.
"We're moving the date forward. Operation Baba Yaga begins next month. Mobilise the forces."
-----
China entered the house to find Hong Kong waiting for him.
"Li Shui?" he asked, taking off his shoes and stepping onto the wooden flooring. "What are you doing still up, aru? It's three am, aru."
"I want to go to my islands, Yao-xiansheng." the little island Nation's face didn't reveal anything of his intentions, but the stiffness of his posture did.
"What are you afraid of, aru?" China asked, taking a few steps forward. Hong Kong took one back.
"Nothing." Hong Kong said. "I miss home. My home."
China's eyes narrowed curiously. "You're not usually so eager to leave, aru."
"Both Taiwan and I are restless..." The young port sighed, looking down, making himself look small and vulnerable. "Please, gege."
It was probably a good thing that Hong Kong had inherited England's manipulative streak. China made an annoyed sound, which was quickly replaced with a defeated groan.
"Alright aru, alright. We'll all go to your city for a week or two, if you're getting worried about your people." China folded his arms. "But Taiwan can't go to her islands. She's not safe there."
'Like it's safe anywhere right now.' thought Hong Kong, but he nodded and left to pack without a word anyway.
He hadn't intended for China to come with them, but any more argument might arouse suspicions. Quietly, he crept into Taiwan's room, and told her of the plan.
It was clear China didn't want to end this war, so they'd have to do it for them.
Notes:
- Bridge chapter, not much here.
- Mullhouse is a town close to the German border with France.
- No, France is not permanently mute. He's been smacked in the throat, that's bound to put your voice out of commission for a while.
- I swear I will get back to the WDF side eventually.
Part 53
Characters (in this chapter): Prussia, France, Russia, Ukraine, Hong Kong, China.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Not much, just a bridge chapter.
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.
Things were not nearly so quiet on the French borders. The civilians hadn't taken kindly to German forces arriving, not at all. Rather, they'd grabbed whatever they could and were fighting tooth and nail to keep them out of the country. Pitchforks were thrown, tanks set on fire, and as the soldiers had been ordered not to harm the untrained civilian population, there was little they could do.
Prussia wondered just how informed these people were about the state of the war.
Luckily for him, he'd ditched the main invading force and was heading through more traditional methods to where he suspected France might be hiding. There was always this one bar in Mullhouse that he could trust to find his friend if he was ever in a real slump.
He knew enough passable French from hanging out with Francis for as long as he had to pass for a local, if he masked his accent. (Which he hated doing, but it was his pride verses being stabbed with the blunt end of a wooden spoon by a disgruntled housewife, which he didn't have the time to deal with right now.) Nobody looked at him twice anyway, which was good, though a slight blow to his ego. (People should be worshiping at his feet, the awesomeness he exuded being too great!) By the time he'd made it to the bar, he'd ditched the civilian car a couple of miles back and walked through the town centre like he owned the place. That usually seemed to work.
The bar was dimly lit and nearly empty, but it wasn't hard to find France slumped in his usual chair by the window. Prussia sat down on the seat across the table, making the blonde jump and stare at him. A large purple bruise on his cheek was only half hidden by the gauze that covered his ear and wrapped around his head. More bandages were wound around his wrists and his right hand, and no matter how well done up his collar was, he could see more white strips around his neck. He was sitting so as he wouldn't put any weight on his left side.
"You look like shit." Gilbert told him, and got a flat look in response. "No, seriously, what the fuck happened to you?"
A thin eyebrow rose. France opened his mouth a few times, then pointed to the bandages around his neck.
The albino frowned. "Geez, I know he likes to go for the neck but seriously?"
France wheezed, maybe a laugh or maybe a cough, then shrugged. Gilbert leaned forward, resting his arms on the table between them. He flicked out a piece of paper between his two fingers.
"West's sent me over here." he explained. "We're invading."
France's eyes widened, narrowed, flashed with some uncertainty and memories from times past, and finally settled on resignation.
"Hey, at least try and tell me off, yell or something." the Germanic Nation tried to joke, but the look on France's face dampened all humor. "Alright, fine, never mind that. That's only one of my jobs anyway." He waved the paper again, the sound of it flapping filling the empty bar. It was the middle of the day after all, sun streaming in through dusty windows. "I'm looking for info. Anything you can tell me."
France shook his head.
"Aw, come on Francis, help a guy out."
The other Nation placed his wrist on the table, and undid one of the bandages. Bright red and raw, there was a black tattoo. A tracking device.
"Shit." Prussia swore. France nodded. A silence fell as Prussia tried to think of something to get them out of this situation. An idea came.
"The code!"
France's look could probably amount to a flatly spoken "what."
Gilbert bounced up and down in his chair like an excited child. "That one you, me and Antonio used waaaaay back in that war with Austria! The one we made up but never used because it was all girly and flakey and shit! I am a fucking genius! Go me!"
Blue eyes stared. He took out a pen, grabbed the sheet of paper and started writing. It was with his left hand, as his right looked like it'd had a bad time trying to defend against something large, metal and pipe-shaped, but the writing was legible enough for him to read it.
You said that last part in German. The barkeeper has to have heard you, you're so loud. They'll get the others in here any minute. France flashed the note at him, in French so far, then started writing again, this time in the code. Flowers bloom by the shore, the orchard grove wilts in the wind faster than ice in the sun.
It took Prussia a while to figure out the code, rusty from disuse, as well as the new code he had to guess at from the context.
Warn Spain, Portugal is next to be nuked, he will vanish faster than Canada.
-----
Russia sat at his desk, staring at the map on his computer screen blankly. The borders of Belarus vanished, becoming Russian territory.
Well. His sister had gotten what she'd wanted in the end.
Something hot and wet hit his hands where they were folded in his lap. Looking down, it appeared to be water. He peered at the ceiling for leaks, and found none. The next drop rolled down his neck. This was confusing. By the third, he touched his face, feeling it come away from his cheeks wet.
Ah.
He was crying.
He hadn't cried in years. Decades, nearly. His body shuddered and shook, and before he knew it he'd buried his face in his arms, slumping onto the desk and feeling like his heart was going to fall out again, or simply fail from the unusual ache.
"Syestra..."
-----
Ukraine did not cry for her sister. Her tears would not come. The hole in her heart burned more painfully than any tears or radiation drifts ever would.
"We're moving the date forward. Operation Baba Yaga begins next month. Mobilise the forces."
-----
China entered the house to find Hong Kong waiting for him.
"Li Shui?" he asked, taking off his shoes and stepping onto the wooden flooring. "What are you doing still up, aru? It's three am, aru."
"I want to go to my islands, Yao-xiansheng." the little island Nation's face didn't reveal anything of his intentions, but the stiffness of his posture did.
"What are you afraid of, aru?" China asked, taking a few steps forward. Hong Kong took one back.
"Nothing." Hong Kong said. "I miss home. My home."
China's eyes narrowed curiously. "You're not usually so eager to leave, aru."
"Both Taiwan and I are restless..." The young port sighed, looking down, making himself look small and vulnerable. "Please, gege."
It was probably a good thing that Hong Kong had inherited England's manipulative streak. China made an annoyed sound, which was quickly replaced with a defeated groan.
"Alright aru, alright. We'll all go to your city for a week or two, if you're getting worried about your people." China folded his arms. "But Taiwan can't go to her islands. She's not safe there."
'Like it's safe anywhere right now.' thought Hong Kong, but he nodded and left to pack without a word anyway.
He hadn't intended for China to come with them, but any more argument might arouse suspicions. Quietly, he crept into Taiwan's room, and told her of the plan.
It was clear China didn't want to end this war, so they'd have to do it for them.
Notes:
- Bridge chapter, not much here.
- Mullhouse is a town close to the German border with France.
- No, France is not permanently mute. He's been smacked in the throat, that's bound to put your voice out of commission for a while.
- I swear I will get back to the WDF side eventually.
Part 53
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-06-16 06:08 pm (UTC)That code is just epic, I love it! I'm guessing Gilbert didn't have much to do with its elaboration, though. XD And oh no, not Port! D: I wonder how Spain will react... is he still split?
That part with Russia made me bawww T.T It's so heartbreaking and sweet at the same time.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-16 07:26 pm (UTC)It's so... poetic. No wonder Gilbert hates it. XD Poooooort, yes Spain is still split. 8D MPD Fun times!
Poor guy's closed himself off. *pets him*