hellzabeth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hellzabeth) wrote2010-09-14 11:40 pm
hellzabeth) wrote2010-09-14 11:40 pm
Entry tags:
Family Ties [Part 83]
Title: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Turkey, Afghanistan, Greece, Portugal, France, Scotland, Quebec, America, Russia, Ukraine, England, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Wales! Phew.
Rating: 15
Warnings: BOOM
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.
Turkey stopped the car they'd borrowed without permission, and rolled his shoulders. Okay, so they'd had to shoot a guy to get it, but he was going to shoot them first. Plus, it was a really nice car.
"Alright kiddies, everyone out, we're here."
Afghanistan hopped out of the back and stretched sighing in satisfaction and then flinching from the cold air. "Coooold why is it so cold..." she murmured to herself.
"Moscow's in much worse shape than the last time I saw it." Portugal commented, eyes following the pillars of billowing smoke that rose into the air and mingled with the clouds.
"That can be expected, though." Greece deadpanned, helping Afghanistan open the back of the car, the button too stiff for her. As soon as the hatchback opened, several belts of ammunition spilled out, and Afghanistan had to lean her weight on a rocket launcher to stop that from falling out too. Finally balancing the pile of weapons, she plucked various guns and projectiles out and passed them around.
Turkey loaded a shotgun with glee. "Suit up everyone, we have a job to do."
---
The trucks hummed with anticipation, engines revving when over-enthusiastic soldiers got excited, quickly disciplined by their superiors. The sky was forbodingly gray, but no snow fell, and the streets had been quickly cleared by all the movement. Looming impressively despite having been built on such short notice, the NWO headquarters sported several turrets that had not been there ob the maps before, but the WDF were well prepared. The tanks and their shields would lead the charge through the gates, then allowing the infantry and other soldiers to slip through the holes in the walls, and the barged open doors. Reinforced or not, nothing was going to stop their advance today.
The snipers no doubt just waiting for a sign of movement were a worry, as they couldn't see them for toffee from where they were, but that might just have to be the price to pay to end this war.
Demands were issued over loudspeaker for the Executive Leader to come out with his hands up. Still, no movement from within the building.
"Hah." scoffed Scotland, sitting in a medical truck and hovering watchfully over France, who was finally receiving attention to his wounds. There was only so much first aid you could administer to broken ribs after all. "Like he'd come out. Probably cowerin' under his desk."
France hissed in pain as the nurse had to re-break his wrist to make it heal properly while another operated to remove the tracker. They only had enough anesthetic to numb one of his arms, with so many casualties from fighting their way into the city already. "Let's not speak too soon, mon coeur." He spoke around the piece of cloth he had in his mouth to bite down on. "Are you sure you want to stay here and not go fight with the others?"
A small smile appeared on Scotland's face. "Nah. They can handle themselves, and if I get too close to Éibhear again I might never be able to pull him off me."
France's amused snort was punctuated by a quiet beeping ring from his mobile phone, sitting on a table by the side. "Would you get that, James?"
The red head obliged, flicking the extremely fancy but now nearly two years out of fashion phone up and putting it to his ear. "'ello?"
"Er." said an unfamiliar voice. "France?"
The man in question gave a muffled yelp of pain and his wrist was splinted. "He's a bit busy, can I take a message?"
"So Scotland then?"
"Aye, that's me." He stroked the sweat off his lover's damp forehead, unsticking the blonde locks. "Who's this?"
"Well I originally called Wales but he said he was a little busy and said to call you now you're out of the woods and on the good side again." rambled the voice, and he didn't sound that old, maybe a late teen. He also sounded worried and a bit panicked. "It's Quebec."
"Quebec?" echoed James.
"Quebec!" France exclaimed, surprised, and gave the taller man an urgent look. "Hold the phone to my ear. Mon chou, dites-moi tout."
Scotland did so, and there followed a conversation in such rapid French he couldn't begin to make heads or tails of it even with his limited knowledge. Instead he had to go by the tones, which also switched faster than Ireland's mood when she was PMSing. Happy, then gravely sad, then slightly irritable, then worried, then even more worried, and here was where Scotland started picking up the word "Amérique" over and over in increasingly frantic tones. After a lot more "quoi?!" and "mon dieu"s, he interrupted.
"Francis?" he asked, afraid that cutting through a conversation this tense would somehow get him killed, immobilised arms or not. He got a sharp look either way. "What's going on?"
"America has completely lost his mind!" Francis would have gestured were he able to, but settled for shaking his head. "Mexico's been imprisoned and he's been doing absolutely unspeakable things to Ukraine, and god knows only what to Russia. He's gone too far. Someone has to stop it, stop him. Shh, mon cheri, tout ira bien, je vous promets." he turned back to speaking to the phone while Scotland's mind reeled over the implications of Alfred going over the edge.
If he'd had a functioning phone, he would have called the others to warn them, but as it was he was stuck here looking after France. He looked towards the NWO building and heard the first shots fired.
"Ye better hurry, ye bastards. We've got a black sheep to sort out."
---
There was a good reason for Quebec's hysteria.
America didn't notice him watching through the crack in the doorway. He was too busy sitting on Russia's back, taunting the weakened Nation as he twitched in the throws of something similar to a heart attack. He wouldn't die from it, oh no, it was just what came from having your capital city attacked. If he hadn't been whiting out occasionally, Russia probably might have thrown the younger boy off him and scrambled across the room to help his sister. Quebec couldn't see her, didn't need to, he could see the small river of blood that headed towards the drain in the middle of the sterile concrete room. The occasional sob and soft call of "Vanya" was the only sign she was still there.
"Oh hey, you nearly knocked me off there, Russki!" America cheered, face bright with childlike glee. "Man, this is better than a rodeo! Giddy up!"
Quebec retched quietly behind the door, unheard save by France on the phone.
Russia stopped twitching for a moment, turning his head to look at the other Nation on top of him, nose blooded and one eye swollen. He smiled, and there was a tooth missing.
"Nice to see you're having fun." he rasped, the result of a half-crushed windpipe. Granted he'd broken America's nose in retaliation, but he wasn't the one writhing on the floor. He was grinning instead.
"Tonnes." he assured, nodding. "I could do this all day. I think I will."
"You like these kinds of games as much as I do." he continued. A heavy hand landed on his head, grinding it into the floor.
"Hey, no mind games, back to the rodeo." the teen pouted. But Russia didn't stop.
“This was a good game, America, and it is nice to see you’re willing to “sink to my level” as you say, to play it." Russia continued before the other blonde could make another witty comment. "But you are wrong to think it is checkmate. I still have one last piece to move.”
"Beg pardon?" America growled lowly.
A shudder ran through the Slavic man's body. "Haha... as we speak, your WDF forces are storming my NWO headquarters, in my city. But do you know what they're not doing? What they haven't done?"
For once America said nothing.
"Maybe I should put it in terms you understand." Russia pondered. "They do not have anyone covering home base. And I still have one batter up."
---
In his office, as the walls shook, the NWO Executive Leader reached round and pushed a button on his desk.
---
Poland paused in pulling Lithuania through the hole that had been blasted in their jail cell by a stray rocket. "Uh. Liet."
The brunette looked at him. "Yes?"
"I, uh. I think someone just launched a missile." the green eyes blinked, and a frown formed. "Only, I never knew I even had any nukes."
"You don't." Lithuania affirmed, a similar frown appearing. "Do you?"
"No..." Poland tilted his head to the side. "Wait." He patted his side, where he felt the odd tingling. A small scar had appeared there, unnoticed, barely bigger than a pin's head. "Uh oh. That Russian son of a bitch."
---
"Eat lead!" crowed Northern Ireland as he mowed down three men with a semi-automatic. His magazine ran out and his sister simply tossed him another gun. "Yeaaaaah!"
"You're wasting ammo!" called England, but he was ignored. Instead, had to roll out of the way as Wales tore a grenade pin out with his teeth and chucked it down a hallway.
"Fire in the hole!" he cried, but the grin didn't leave his face.
The group plugged their ears as the blast sent the doors sailing off more than a few offices, where there had once been usual secretarial staff there were now soldiers. Oddly, there were other sounds of fighting coming from the other end of the hall. Using a mirror, Ireland peeked round the corner, and grinned. "Artie, you're gonna want to see this."
England looked in the mirror just in time to see Portugal clubbing some poor hapless soldier upside the head with the hard end of his gun.
"Port!" He called, watching the man jump at his name in the mirror. Cautiously and carefully, he crept out from behind the corner. Slowly, the other man's face dawned into a brilliant smile, and he lept over the bodies littering the hallway to enclose his lover in a very strong hug that nearly knocked the air clean out of England's lungs. "Port- can't breathe!"
Released, the two stared at each other like they were trying to imprint the other's image on their retinas. North mimed being sick and Turkey rolled his eyes.
"If you lovebirds are done." Ireland snarked, but she was smiling fondly. "We've got a Boss to brutally dismember."
"Thanks for that lovely description." Wales remarked, picking his way through the slumped dead and dying. Other soldiers darted past and along the hallways, kicking in doors. Above the chaos, Wales' phone gave off a familiar ring. "Oh for the love of God why do I still have this thing?!" He snatched it out of his pocket and jabbed at the screen angrily. The caller ID flashed up.
Boss.
"Uhoh. Gotta take this." He opened it up, holding it to his ear. "Hullo?"
"Wales!" his boss cried, though technically he was his and England's shared boss. That wasn't particularly important. "Thank god, you and your family are safe right now, right?"
"Uh, well we're in the middle of NWO headquarters--" he started, but was cut off by a large amount of swearing.
"Damn it, no, you need to get out of there and get somewhere safe, somewhere where people can look after you!"
This was confusing. "Why?"
"There's a nuclear missile incoming straight for us!" the Prime Minister shouted. "Right for you, all of you!"
The others had stopped what they were doing to stare at their brother's rapidly paling face. The horror started to grow. "Shit. How big is it?"
"We tried to make it change course by firing at it in mid air, but it's still on course for the Irish Sea! It's massive, I never thought they'd use it, we all decided against it--"
"Darren?" Ireland asked, laying a hand on his arm. He realised he was shaking. "What's happening? What's wrong? Darren?"
"Nuke." he uttered, and everyone's eyes went wide. "It's coming straight for us and there's-"
There was nothing they could do.
"Bugger." England said.
---
Mothers clung to their children. Husbands to their wives. Friends to friends to enemies.
Above them, the vapor trails of their imminent destruction traced a path straight through the sky, a small black dot disappearing out to sea. A few stood on the beaches, arms open and resigned.
There was not enough time to cry.
The nuke detonated half a mile underwater, flinging up a million tonnes of water into the atmosphere. A reaction that could be seen from space, as searing hot and irradiated water fell upon the British Isles and Ireland.
Then the wave, towering greater than the highest building built, raced inland undeterred by hills or mountains or trees.
And then there was silence.
---
England collapsed forward, choking on salt water, caught by a frantic Portugal.
Ireland fell only seconds before North, crumpling into a heap on the floor.
Scotland shuddered and gargled on water from nowhere, the nurses frantically trying to save a drowning man miles from any kind of deep water. He didn't hear France screaming his name.
Wales' phone slipped from his hand, his back hit the wall, and he knew no more.
Notes:
- You can go ahead and hate me now, but I even made this chapter extra long, all special for you.
- This is the Irish Sea, for the geographically unaware. The black dot is where the nuke landed. The red patch is the "splash zone".
Part 84
Characters (in this chapter): Turkey, Afghanistan, Greece, Portugal, France, Scotland, Quebec, America, Russia, Ukraine, England, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Wales! Phew.
Rating: 15
Warnings: BOOM
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.
Turkey stopped the car they'd borrowed without permission, and rolled his shoulders. Okay, so they'd had to shoot a guy to get it, but he was going to shoot them first. Plus, it was a really nice car.
"Alright kiddies, everyone out, we're here."
Afghanistan hopped out of the back and stretched sighing in satisfaction and then flinching from the cold air. "Coooold why is it so cold..." she murmured to herself.
"Moscow's in much worse shape than the last time I saw it." Portugal commented, eyes following the pillars of billowing smoke that rose into the air and mingled with the clouds.
"That can be expected, though." Greece deadpanned, helping Afghanistan open the back of the car, the button too stiff for her. As soon as the hatchback opened, several belts of ammunition spilled out, and Afghanistan had to lean her weight on a rocket launcher to stop that from falling out too. Finally balancing the pile of weapons, she plucked various guns and projectiles out and passed them around.
Turkey loaded a shotgun with glee. "Suit up everyone, we have a job to do."
---
The trucks hummed with anticipation, engines revving when over-enthusiastic soldiers got excited, quickly disciplined by their superiors. The sky was forbodingly gray, but no snow fell, and the streets had been quickly cleared by all the movement. Looming impressively despite having been built on such short notice, the NWO headquarters sported several turrets that had not been there ob the maps before, but the WDF were well prepared. The tanks and their shields would lead the charge through the gates, then allowing the infantry and other soldiers to slip through the holes in the walls, and the barged open doors. Reinforced or not, nothing was going to stop their advance today.
The snipers no doubt just waiting for a sign of movement were a worry, as they couldn't see them for toffee from where they were, but that might just have to be the price to pay to end this war.
Demands were issued over loudspeaker for the Executive Leader to come out with his hands up. Still, no movement from within the building.
"Hah." scoffed Scotland, sitting in a medical truck and hovering watchfully over France, who was finally receiving attention to his wounds. There was only so much first aid you could administer to broken ribs after all. "Like he'd come out. Probably cowerin' under his desk."
France hissed in pain as the nurse had to re-break his wrist to make it heal properly while another operated to remove the tracker. They only had enough anesthetic to numb one of his arms, with so many casualties from fighting their way into the city already. "Let's not speak too soon, mon coeur." He spoke around the piece of cloth he had in his mouth to bite down on. "Are you sure you want to stay here and not go fight with the others?"
A small smile appeared on Scotland's face. "Nah. They can handle themselves, and if I get too close to Éibhear again I might never be able to pull him off me."
France's amused snort was punctuated by a quiet beeping ring from his mobile phone, sitting on a table by the side. "Would you get that, James?"
The red head obliged, flicking the extremely fancy but now nearly two years out of fashion phone up and putting it to his ear. "'ello?"
"Er." said an unfamiliar voice. "France?"
The man in question gave a muffled yelp of pain and his wrist was splinted. "He's a bit busy, can I take a message?"
"So Scotland then?"
"Aye, that's me." He stroked the sweat off his lover's damp forehead, unsticking the blonde locks. "Who's this?"
"Well I originally called Wales but he said he was a little busy and said to call you now you're out of the woods and on the good side again." rambled the voice, and he didn't sound that old, maybe a late teen. He also sounded worried and a bit panicked. "It's Quebec."
"Quebec?" echoed James.
"Quebec!" France exclaimed, surprised, and gave the taller man an urgent look. "Hold the phone to my ear. Mon chou, dites-moi tout."
Scotland did so, and there followed a conversation in such rapid French he couldn't begin to make heads or tails of it even with his limited knowledge. Instead he had to go by the tones, which also switched faster than Ireland's mood when she was PMSing. Happy, then gravely sad, then slightly irritable, then worried, then even more worried, and here was where Scotland started picking up the word "Amérique" over and over in increasingly frantic tones. After a lot more "quoi?!" and "mon dieu"s, he interrupted.
"Francis?" he asked, afraid that cutting through a conversation this tense would somehow get him killed, immobilised arms or not. He got a sharp look either way. "What's going on?"
"America has completely lost his mind!" Francis would have gestured were he able to, but settled for shaking his head. "Mexico's been imprisoned and he's been doing absolutely unspeakable things to Ukraine, and god knows only what to Russia. He's gone too far. Someone has to stop it, stop him. Shh, mon cheri, tout ira bien, je vous promets." he turned back to speaking to the phone while Scotland's mind reeled over the implications of Alfred going over the edge.
If he'd had a functioning phone, he would have called the others to warn them, but as it was he was stuck here looking after France. He looked towards the NWO building and heard the first shots fired.
"Ye better hurry, ye bastards. We've got a black sheep to sort out."
---
There was a good reason for Quebec's hysteria.
America didn't notice him watching through the crack in the doorway. He was too busy sitting on Russia's back, taunting the weakened Nation as he twitched in the throws of something similar to a heart attack. He wouldn't die from it, oh no, it was just what came from having your capital city attacked. If he hadn't been whiting out occasionally, Russia probably might have thrown the younger boy off him and scrambled across the room to help his sister. Quebec couldn't see her, didn't need to, he could see the small river of blood that headed towards the drain in the middle of the sterile concrete room. The occasional sob and soft call of "Vanya" was the only sign she was still there.
"Oh hey, you nearly knocked me off there, Russki!" America cheered, face bright with childlike glee. "Man, this is better than a rodeo! Giddy up!"
Quebec retched quietly behind the door, unheard save by France on the phone.
Russia stopped twitching for a moment, turning his head to look at the other Nation on top of him, nose blooded and one eye swollen. He smiled, and there was a tooth missing.
"Nice to see you're having fun." he rasped, the result of a half-crushed windpipe. Granted he'd broken America's nose in retaliation, but he wasn't the one writhing on the floor. He was grinning instead.
"Tonnes." he assured, nodding. "I could do this all day. I think I will."
"You like these kinds of games as much as I do." he continued. A heavy hand landed on his head, grinding it into the floor.
"Hey, no mind games, back to the rodeo." the teen pouted. But Russia didn't stop.
“This was a good game, America, and it is nice to see you’re willing to “sink to my level” as you say, to play it." Russia continued before the other blonde could make another witty comment. "But you are wrong to think it is checkmate. I still have one last piece to move.”
"Beg pardon?" America growled lowly.
A shudder ran through the Slavic man's body. "Haha... as we speak, your WDF forces are storming my NWO headquarters, in my city. But do you know what they're not doing? What they haven't done?"
For once America said nothing.
"Maybe I should put it in terms you understand." Russia pondered. "They do not have anyone covering home base. And I still have one batter up."
---
In his office, as the walls shook, the NWO Executive Leader reached round and pushed a button on his desk.
---
Poland paused in pulling Lithuania through the hole that had been blasted in their jail cell by a stray rocket. "Uh. Liet."
The brunette looked at him. "Yes?"
"I, uh. I think someone just launched a missile." the green eyes blinked, and a frown formed. "Only, I never knew I even had any nukes."
"You don't." Lithuania affirmed, a similar frown appearing. "Do you?"
"No..." Poland tilted his head to the side. "Wait." He patted his side, where he felt the odd tingling. A small scar had appeared there, unnoticed, barely bigger than a pin's head. "Uh oh. That Russian son of a bitch."
---
"Eat lead!" crowed Northern Ireland as he mowed down three men with a semi-automatic. His magazine ran out and his sister simply tossed him another gun. "Yeaaaaah!"
"You're wasting ammo!" called England, but he was ignored. Instead, had to roll out of the way as Wales tore a grenade pin out with his teeth and chucked it down a hallway.
"Fire in the hole!" he cried, but the grin didn't leave his face.
The group plugged their ears as the blast sent the doors sailing off more than a few offices, where there had once been usual secretarial staff there were now soldiers. Oddly, there were other sounds of fighting coming from the other end of the hall. Using a mirror, Ireland peeked round the corner, and grinned. "Artie, you're gonna want to see this."
England looked in the mirror just in time to see Portugal clubbing some poor hapless soldier upside the head with the hard end of his gun.
"Port!" He called, watching the man jump at his name in the mirror. Cautiously and carefully, he crept out from behind the corner. Slowly, the other man's face dawned into a brilliant smile, and he lept over the bodies littering the hallway to enclose his lover in a very strong hug that nearly knocked the air clean out of England's lungs. "Port- can't breathe!"
Released, the two stared at each other like they were trying to imprint the other's image on their retinas. North mimed being sick and Turkey rolled his eyes.
"If you lovebirds are done." Ireland snarked, but she was smiling fondly. "We've got a Boss to brutally dismember."
"Thanks for that lovely description." Wales remarked, picking his way through the slumped dead and dying. Other soldiers darted past and along the hallways, kicking in doors. Above the chaos, Wales' phone gave off a familiar ring. "Oh for the love of God why do I still have this thing?!" He snatched it out of his pocket and jabbed at the screen angrily. The caller ID flashed up.
Boss.
"Uhoh. Gotta take this." He opened it up, holding it to his ear. "Hullo?"
"Wales!" his boss cried, though technically he was his and England's shared boss. That wasn't particularly important. "Thank god, you and your family are safe right now, right?"
"Uh, well we're in the middle of NWO headquarters--" he started, but was cut off by a large amount of swearing.
"Damn it, no, you need to get out of there and get somewhere safe, somewhere where people can look after you!"
This was confusing. "Why?"
"There's a nuclear missile incoming straight for us!" the Prime Minister shouted. "Right for you, all of you!"
The others had stopped what they were doing to stare at their brother's rapidly paling face. The horror started to grow. "Shit. How big is it?"
"We tried to make it change course by firing at it in mid air, but it's still on course for the Irish Sea! It's massive, I never thought they'd use it, we all decided against it--"
"Darren?" Ireland asked, laying a hand on his arm. He realised he was shaking. "What's happening? What's wrong? Darren?"
"Nuke." he uttered, and everyone's eyes went wide. "It's coming straight for us and there's-"
There was nothing they could do.
"Bugger." England said.
---
Mothers clung to their children. Husbands to their wives. Friends to friends to enemies.
Above them, the vapor trails of their imminent destruction traced a path straight through the sky, a small black dot disappearing out to sea. A few stood on the beaches, arms open and resigned.
There was not enough time to cry.
The nuke detonated half a mile underwater, flinging up a million tonnes of water into the atmosphere. A reaction that could be seen from space, as searing hot and irradiated water fell upon the British Isles and Ireland.
Then the wave, towering greater than the highest building built, raced inland undeterred by hills or mountains or trees.
And then there was silence.
---
England collapsed forward, choking on salt water, caught by a frantic Portugal.
Ireland fell only seconds before North, crumpling into a heap on the floor.
Scotland shuddered and gargled on water from nowhere, the nurses frantically trying to save a drowning man miles from any kind of deep water. He didn't hear France screaming his name.
Wales' phone slipped from his hand, his back hit the wall, and he knew no more.
Notes:
- You can go ahead and hate me now, but I even made this chapter extra long, all special for you.
- This is the Irish Sea, for the geographically unaware. The black dot is where the nuke landed. The red patch is the "splash zone".
Part 84
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...
/goes off to cry now
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OH NO YOU DIDN'T
Port and Iggy are FINALLY together and YOU DO THIS?
AHHHHHHHH THEY'RE NOT GONNA DIE, I
hopeKNOW IT, BUT MAAAAAAN DDDD:America, dude, seriously, you're making QUÉBEC scared >>
I see some irony in the salt water :(
OH HONEY YOU BET I DID
Yup.
Dude. I just nuked them off the face of the planet.
And Quebec has been proclaimed a badass by the fans so you KNOW it's on now.
<small>Oh good, at least someone got it.
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WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!????
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I...do believe another Big No is in order *clears throat* NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You do realise you've killed us all, don't you? Jeez, the Irish Sea is radioactive already, don't be putting nukes in it!D:D:D:
*had another look at map and realised she lives outside the Splash Zone* Well, that's...mildly reassuring. Except not really.
I think I went to a kids swimming pool called the Splash Zone once...
*cries in corner*
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Hahahaha my town's outside of the Splash Zone but as far as radiation seeping into every water system in England yes we're kind of fucked aren't we.
*gives tissues and tea*
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Well according to the map.....
Wales and North are pretty much screwed....
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NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
-cries-
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Is Wales England's moral compass? I hope notYOU. Why do you take so much delight in torturing me, woman? Asdhjklgfsja...WAIT a minute there won't even be a body hhhh noooo Pidge, what have you done, what have you done?
I need to cry a little bit more now.
Ukraine...ohgosh I don't even know what to say, you evil evil woman.
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Pfffff kind of apart from when it comes to buggering shee- *SHOT*Because torturing people is fun, or were you not around for chapter 35?There not being a body is somehow worse, isn't it?
Also this is North's second near death experience if you remember all the way back to chapter 10I think you're the only one to even have a go at guessing what Alfred's done to her.
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YOU'VE KILLED EVERYONE
... EXCEPT SCOTLAND BECAUSE HE'S IN THE MOUNTAINS BUT YOU KILLED EVERYONE ELSE DAMNIT.
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-
/CHOMPS ON MORE POPCORN
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APART FROM IN THE NORTH AND THE MIDLANDS BUT
YEAH.
/POPS MORE CORN FOR YOU
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because you torture the ones you love, and I've come to expect the worst from you, that and pain and lots of palpitationsI'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS SINCE LIKE FORTY CHAPTERS PRIOR BUTBUT FUCK
OF ALL THINGS Whsdbcgsad good God, woman, you are utterly evil I-I'm split between wanting to read the next chapter right now and just ignoring it when it comes out; I have a weak heart I don't think I can take it ;A;
And Russia and Ukraine, oh my Jesus. Fuck. Lots of fucks here please imagine them hgdvgd America what in the name of all that is heroic is wrong with you? You've gone off the deep end and when this is all over no one will ever trust you
with powerever again. And then you'll be alone and be even more friendless than you already are and England will leave you for the wife; because when the adventurous, hot, passionate affair becomes a psychotic megalomaniac it is time to return to the old, vanilla but safe marriage. THINK MAN THINKor you'll be sleeping in the couch for the next centurytl;dr sorry man, this chapter made me really emotional and WTF just...just...oh, man. I need to lie down ;A;
please tell me they'll be okay. Please. It's okay if you lie to me just say they'll be okay? Also, don't tell me America will become even more psychotic when he learns what happened to his sort-of-crush-but-not-really-because-America's-an-awkward-kid/old guardian England?
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Thank you, I try.
For all my bravado please feel free to stop reading any time >> I know this kind of story isn't for everyone. I won't hold it against you.He's just beating up the bad guys, where's the problem, asks our blonde hero. America's gone off the deep end with a triple somersault and twist into the waters of insanity. (Russia holds up a sign with a 9.8 on it) When has America been top notch at thinking, my dear?
The cooooouch, a thing all men should fear.*gives you a blanket*
/zips lips and tells nothing
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BAH, I DO NOT NEED YOUR FORGIVENESS ANYWAY.
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Oh god France NOT THE FACE NOT THE FAAAAACE ;A;
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So if you base it on that, she's screwed T_T
*cries some more*
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what
mind
broken
OH MY GOOOOOOOOD
I'M SORRY I COULDN'T RESIST
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I nuked the Irish sea, superheated the water, and dumped it back on the British isles.
Quebec is love. <3
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ffffff it's about time you called for help Quebec. It took you long enough. Weighing it all out Scotland and France got a lot more dere time than the other lovebirds, which isn't a bad thing but baww Scotland you can seriously never catch a break orz;;; Not to worry France I doubt fashion has really moved that far without you in these past few years. XD
North you're enjoying this way too much hahaha. All that time cooped up must have really got to you. XD. Lol at England trying to control the mess haha, he's totally more fun in naval battles. |D fffff lmao oh Port, forget running across fields of flowers into your lover's arms, stepping over a hallway full of bodies is MUCH more romantic XDDD sob dere reunion sob he's probably never been so happy to see England in his life after his “ordeal" haha. No more van!sex for you Turkey, I mean. Don't worry Port will be back to being badass and yandere after this next part because bawwwww.
WRRRRY HOW COULD YOU IDEK what is thiiiis ;A; You just HAD to do it after the dere reunion didn't youuuuu ;A; Fuuuuuck. Russia always gets the last laugh orz. Except now I'd be willing to go into space to escape America after this. >>; I was going to say at least you didn't hit their capitals but then I saw THE IRELANDS AND LIKE HALF OF WALES and aaaaaah. ;; On the other hand it wasn't a direct hit per se, just a massive radioactive tidal wave and that never…killed anyone…much orz. Well the PM seemed to think it wouldn't kill them but… idek lmao. But I'm keeping a twisted sense of optimism and my fingers crossed. ;;
/waits in anticipation and/or dread /o/;;;
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He's been trying to be a big boy all on his own but I don't think even India could handle Alfred on her own, holy shit. Scotland never ever will catch a break ever, the universe is out to get him. Especially when he's in close proximity to France.
He's been locked up for like half the war he's more than ready to start shooting some folks. England's inner pirate doesn't come out apart from when he's on the high seas and THEN we see the trigger happy gene that seems to come with the Brows. Skipping through a field of corpses lol this is their love in a nutshell, I feel. Aww, Turkey is sadface for he cannot molest Port and blame someone else anymore.
Not that Port believed him but yeah.IDEFK MAN I THINK I SOLD MY SOUL FOR WRITING SKILLS OR SOMETHING ADJSNGKF;; Well yes of course I did, how to make a sad scene sadder is to precede it with a fluffy scene, simple film school stuff
that I stole off Nena who is the actual film student lolAmerica hohoho he is not gonna be happy. So much for "all home for Christmas" and all that. A massive radioactive tidal wave has never killed anyone because it has never happened before, dear. And also that water is like a million degrees hot and is only staying in liquid form because of it's velocity. I don't think the PM really knew what was coming XDDread might be better /shot.
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Ahem, er..anyone here like character death? Or is it just me. '_'
Great chapter as usual. I'm excited to see what comes next, and other characters' reactions to the...incident. :D
*raises hand*
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*isn't capable of coherence right now*
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Nyah, so much for pining for the sea, eh Port? *Hugs*
Well there goes the UK...
England and Scotland on the other hand are relatively unharmed, and when they wake up they're probably going to in on the Russia-bashing.
Ireland might actually pull through, if she's VERY lucky (Then again she is IRELAND). However she'll be vey badly hurt, and will probably have to give up soverigenty and let herself be taken care of for at least a few decades, porbably up the UN or EU. Actually...
What about the UK? Since Wales is finished England's all on his own again, but since all started because Scotland left the union, and it was primarily UK forces which liberated Scotlamd from NWO control unionsim might get a shot in the arm. And snce Ireland is finished as an indepedent nation for the next few decades she might move back in Arthur, even if only until she can stand on own feet again and go it alone.
Could this Story end with the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland reformed?
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