hellzabeth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hellzabeth) wrote2010-05-13 11:47 pm
hellzabeth) wrote2010-05-13 11:47 pm
Request answers~! 3!
God, this was the last thing he'd wanted to do. He was fine with sailing. In fact, he loved sailing. But England showing off a new colony, just to rub it in? That just pissed him off.
Grudgingly though, Scotland had agreed to the six-month long voyage and putting up with all of his siblings in an enclosed space for that length of time just to see this new land. Some of his people had gone over there as well, after all. It was as much his kid as Artie's.
"England, England, England, Englaaaaaaand!" squealed a tiny blur that crashed into his brother's waist at unreal speeds. Scotland blinked from the gangplank and watched England, already on the docks, laugh and hug the little blonde kid back. Well that was definitely weird; how did this kid make a miserable sod like England laugh?
"England, England you're back! I missed you! I've been exploring west and there's so much out there and look I've grown and everything look, look!" the brat bounced up and down, trying to reach England's height.
"I can't see unless you hold still!" Arthur laughed, settling his hands on the boy's shoulders to keep him still. "There, let's have a look at you."
Ireland kicked him in the back. "Get off the gangplank, you're blocking the way."
The rest of the British Isles siblings filed onto the dockside. Ireland immediately walked straight past England, grumbling something about having to get away from idiots for a while. Wales gave a tired sigh. He'd been peacekeeping the whole way here.
"England, who was that?" Alfred pointed at the retreating Ireland, causing his big brother to roll his eyes.
"That's my sister, Ireland. I told you about her, remember?"
Spawn of England had no right to have such an adorable pout. "She's mean, right?"
"Right." he pointed a finger at his two brothers. "This is Wales and Scotland. Say hello, America."
Blue eyes examined the other two critically, head tilting to the side as he frowned in concentration. "Scotland's the big one, right?"
The red head smirked. "Aye, that's me."
Pre-teen shoulders squared, his pout becoming a determined expression. "You don't scare me."
Scotland's smirk became a grin. "I have a knife in me sock."
"I have a gun in my jacket."
Well, would you look at that. Scotland turned to Wales, laughing. "I like this kid already."
Even as England scolded the little brat for carrying firearms everywhere, Scotland realised there was hope for the boy yet.
-----
Getting Austria drunk was no easy feat. It usually took spiking his drink with something strong yet undetectable, and even then the man had a surprisingly high alcohol tolerance. But when it happened, oh, it was worth dodging Elizaveta, sneaking booze past security and distracting Austria by making him rant about music. It was always worth it.
This was because, when truly hammered, Austria only ever spoke in Arnold Schwarzenegger quotes.
"Hey, Roderich! What's best in life?" yelled Prussia, snickering as Hungary nearly bled to death from the nosebleed she was having. Austria was on the table, wobbling unsteadily, shirt off and hair in a mess.
"To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women!" he replied, and America died from lack of oxygen due to laughter in the corner.
"Oh-oh my god it's exactly right!" he gasped between laughter, clutching at his sides and leaning on the wall for support.
Austria apparently didn't like being laughed at all of a sudden, pointing an accusing finger at the younger Nation. "Remember when I said I’d kill you last… I lied!"
Perhaps he intended to kill the boy through asphyxiation. It was certainly working.
Prussia was snickering as Alfred went blue in the face, when suddenly the finger was pointing at him instead, and he found himself with Austria's usually gentlemanly face right up in his. "Your clothes. Give them to me now."
Hungary promptly passed out. Japan took her place in taking pictures.
Before things could get any further, however, Austria wobbled a little more than usual, then went suddenly green in the face. "... I'll be back." And he ran from the room.
Definitely worth it.
-----
The pyramids of Giza could be buried. The rain forests of South America could burn to the ground. The glacial peaks of the arctic could melt to nothingness. England didn't give a damn if they were wonderous, or awe inspiring, or majestic, because there was nothing in the whole world more beautiful than Portugal with the sea wind ripping through his unbound hair, salt water running down his skin and rough hands on the wheel of a 200 year old ship, and as long as that remained in his life, he could be happy.
"You're staring, amor." God the quirk of those lips combined with the above made England want to have him right now, on the deck, in front of the rest of the motley crew they'd picked up for this little adventure into nostalgia.
But of course he couldn't do that, or express any of the horrifically poetic, mushy romantic things his brain had conjured up. He never did.
"Just making sure you're not getting tired of steering." he covered, though he could feel the blush start to grow on his face. Maybe he could excuse it as being ruddy with rum.
And maybe if Gabriel would stop smirking at him it would make him stop blushing like a damn virgin in the first place.
"Do you want a turn?"
'A turn at screwing you into the deck you mean,' England thought, then quickly shook the thought from his head. "No, I'm fine watching."
A quirk of the eyebrow, half lidded eyes-- why was every move so attractive when he was wearing that plumed hat and long coat and eight different kinds of precious stone inlaid to gold? He probably knew, that sly bugger, exactly what he was doing to England right now. He had to. There was no way to be oblivious when it was so obviously showing on England's face right now.
Gabriel's spare hand reached out and grabbed Arthur's tricorn hat. The blonde was about to protest when his lips were covered with Portugal's own, the hat held up as a shield from the other crew members. "Your mouth was hanging open. It needed to be put to use." purred Portugal. England grabbed his cravat to prevent his escape.
"I can think of plenty of other uses." he grinned. "Captain's quarters, now. Gibraltar!" the yell caught the young Nation's attention. "Take the wheel."
Grudgingly though, Scotland had agreed to the six-month long voyage and putting up with all of his siblings in an enclosed space for that length of time just to see this new land. Some of his people had gone over there as well, after all. It was as much his kid as Artie's.
"England, England, England, Englaaaaaaand!" squealed a tiny blur that crashed into his brother's waist at unreal speeds. Scotland blinked from the gangplank and watched England, already on the docks, laugh and hug the little blonde kid back. Well that was definitely weird; how did this kid make a miserable sod like England laugh?
"England, England you're back! I missed you! I've been exploring west and there's so much out there and look I've grown and everything look, look!" the brat bounced up and down, trying to reach England's height.
"I can't see unless you hold still!" Arthur laughed, settling his hands on the boy's shoulders to keep him still. "There, let's have a look at you."
Ireland kicked him in the back. "Get off the gangplank, you're blocking the way."
The rest of the British Isles siblings filed onto the dockside. Ireland immediately walked straight past England, grumbling something about having to get away from idiots for a while. Wales gave a tired sigh. He'd been peacekeeping the whole way here.
"England, who was that?" Alfred pointed at the retreating Ireland, causing his big brother to roll his eyes.
"That's my sister, Ireland. I told you about her, remember?"
Spawn of England had no right to have such an adorable pout. "She's mean, right?"
"Right." he pointed a finger at his two brothers. "This is Wales and Scotland. Say hello, America."
Blue eyes examined the other two critically, head tilting to the side as he frowned in concentration. "Scotland's the big one, right?"
The red head smirked. "Aye, that's me."
Pre-teen shoulders squared, his pout becoming a determined expression. "You don't scare me."
Scotland's smirk became a grin. "I have a knife in me sock."
"I have a gun in my jacket."
Well, would you look at that. Scotland turned to Wales, laughing. "I like this kid already."
Even as England scolded the little brat for carrying firearms everywhere, Scotland realised there was hope for the boy yet.
-----
Getting Austria drunk was no easy feat. It usually took spiking his drink with something strong yet undetectable, and even then the man had a surprisingly high alcohol tolerance. But when it happened, oh, it was worth dodging Elizaveta, sneaking booze past security and distracting Austria by making him rant about music. It was always worth it.
This was because, when truly hammered, Austria only ever spoke in Arnold Schwarzenegger quotes.
"Hey, Roderich! What's best in life?" yelled Prussia, snickering as Hungary nearly bled to death from the nosebleed she was having. Austria was on the table, wobbling unsteadily, shirt off and hair in a mess.
"To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women!" he replied, and America died from lack of oxygen due to laughter in the corner.
"Oh-oh my god it's exactly right!" he gasped between laughter, clutching at his sides and leaning on the wall for support.
Austria apparently didn't like being laughed at all of a sudden, pointing an accusing finger at the younger Nation. "Remember when I said I’d kill you last… I lied!"
Perhaps he intended to kill the boy through asphyxiation. It was certainly working.
Prussia was snickering as Alfred went blue in the face, when suddenly the finger was pointing at him instead, and he found himself with Austria's usually gentlemanly face right up in his. "Your clothes. Give them to me now."
Hungary promptly passed out. Japan took her place in taking pictures.
Before things could get any further, however, Austria wobbled a little more than usual, then went suddenly green in the face. "... I'll be back." And he ran from the room.
Definitely worth it.
-----
The pyramids of Giza could be buried. The rain forests of South America could burn to the ground. The glacial peaks of the arctic could melt to nothingness. England didn't give a damn if they were wonderous, or awe inspiring, or majestic, because there was nothing in the whole world more beautiful than Portugal with the sea wind ripping through his unbound hair, salt water running down his skin and rough hands on the wheel of a 200 year old ship, and as long as that remained in his life, he could be happy.
"You're staring, amor." God the quirk of those lips combined with the above made England want to have him right now, on the deck, in front of the rest of the motley crew they'd picked up for this little adventure into nostalgia.
But of course he couldn't do that, or express any of the horrifically poetic, mushy romantic things his brain had conjured up. He never did.
"Just making sure you're not getting tired of steering." he covered, though he could feel the blush start to grow on his face. Maybe he could excuse it as being ruddy with rum.
And maybe if Gabriel would stop smirking at him it would make him stop blushing like a damn virgin in the first place.
"Do you want a turn?"
'A turn at screwing you into the deck you mean,' England thought, then quickly shook the thought from his head. "No, I'm fine watching."
A quirk of the eyebrow, half lidded eyes-- why was every move so attractive when he was wearing that plumed hat and long coat and eight different kinds of precious stone inlaid to gold? He probably knew, that sly bugger, exactly what he was doing to England right now. He had to. There was no way to be oblivious when it was so obviously showing on England's face right now.
Gabriel's spare hand reached out and grabbed Arthur's tricorn hat. The blonde was about to protest when his lips were covered with Portugal's own, the hat held up as a shield from the other crew members. "Your mouth was hanging open. It needed to be put to use." purred Portugal. England grabbed his cravat to prevent his escape.
"I can think of plenty of other uses." he grinned. "Captain's quarters, now. Gibraltar!" the yell caught the young Nation's attention. "Take the wheel."
no subject
I'd need to find the time between FT and writing moar Vincere orz, but it'll fester there until I do it I bet. You should write it! Do iiiiiit~!
Port you naughty thing you Iggy appreciates it thoughI can't top it, especially the porny parts, oh my.Many people have died for the sake of that hat. He loves it. I bet he named it Bess. I pity Gibraltar. It's a small wonder he's sane. (5th most stable nation in the world in fact.) *SOAP OPERA MUSIC* Portugal married his brother's rapist/hatelover! WHAT NEXT?!
HASTA LA VISTA BABY. Oh god Scotland is just exactly as bad as it sounds, goes around Glasgow-grinning/kissing people (read as: doing Joker-esque things to people and headbutting them). Oh good god he would as well. XDDDDDDD
no subject
lol well I've written about 4 pages of it so far... but I fear it will become multi-chaptered now because they basically go all over the world from the Vatican (in which Spain tries to bribe the Pope to annul Port's "marriage") to the Amazon (in which they try to re-locate El Dorado). |D;
He's seekritly a bad boy, don't let that Catholic front fool you!It would admittedly be hard going to top that I admit orz... but that's not to say I'm going to stop writing it haha.The wear and tear on that hat is testament to its ordeal. He probably has a whole drawer full of items he called "Bess" in a fit of pique ahaha. omg seriously? Ahaha oh Gibraltar, the secret to success lies somewhere in you. He should have a book deal. America would be all over that. XD In his defense they were married first! orz And I've always believed England used to give him tokens of love and admiration fashioned out of stolen Spanish gold ahaha.
OH GOD, SOB orz. ;lsdkff Scotland and headbutting why can I see that so clearly, especially since he probably has a really hard head haha. And Australia was just like ...omg Uncle Scotland wtf are you doing? Well what do you think Australia? He was obvs defending that lass and her honour...obvs. XDDDDD
no subject
Hahaha holy crap that sounds awesome. RELOCATING EL DORADO. I SENSE INCOMING MIGUEL AND TULIO
mighty and powerful godsAMUSINGNESS. Don't stop writing it! Alright deal; if you write your pirate fic I shall also write mine.You can tell if something is his favourite item because he will call it Bess. Also ahaha I am not kidding; most stable, uncorrupted government, 4th largest economic flow in Europe, best for anti-crime... damn it Gibraltar why are you so perfect? OH ENGLAND he'd melt down all of Spain's pretty things and make them ENGLISH and give them to Port. I bet he has a chair made from the wood of one of the Armada ships or something as well.
Because Scotland, when tied up, will always go for the head anyway. totally... and wasn't just... kind of... hammered at the time... or anything... >>
no subject
"Bess" is like idek a verbal security blanket lol he takes so much comfort in it. Man Gibraltar is like... the poster child of awesome in Europe HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? I mean just look at his parents. /shot Haha yes and he'd put emphasis on how English they were and it would make Port dere and Spain ;sldkff. sob oh god he probably does. Keeps it at the head of the dining table or something. It's incredibly ornate.
Or seekritly Busby's ChairAnd he'll knock out a couple of braincells in the process. AWESOME. BDb I like to think he's somewhat gallant and...er, gentlemanly...I mean there must be a reason so many of those cheap romance novels are in the Highlands l-lol orz