Family Ties [Part 46]
May. 26th, 2010 01:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hellzabethTitle: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Austria, Hungary, Prussia, Germany, America, Mexico, Canada.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Oh god I'm going to regret this in the morning aren't I?
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.
The sounds of the piano floated as ever through the long hallways and high ceilings of Austria's house. He'd probably stayed in this one manner for so long that the piano had become one with the floor, lovingly polished and taken care of though it was. Aristocratic fingers danced along the ivory and ebony keys, coaxing soft melodies and harsh crescendos and sad harmonies. He hadn't needed sheet music for many centuries now, every note etched on the inside of his head.
Austria liked music. That was obvious. It was how he expressed himself, too reserved - not stuck up, those were Prussia's words, not his - to do so any other way. It was his heritage, no matter how he and Germany argued over who owned which composer and why. It was everything to him, and surely nothing would stop him playing, not even war on his doorstep.
There was someone behind him, and he knew who it was without looking.
Neither said anything. Austria finished the last notes of his song, letting the final chord linger before lifting his hands off the piano, closing the lid and sitting back on the piano stool.
"They're coming, aren't they." he said, resigned.
"Yes." Eyes met. "We... won't be able to go out to dinner at this rate."
The dark haired Nation considered it. "How long is the estimated time before the planes arrive?"
Hungary smiled.
-----
"West, oi, West!" Prussia banged on the door to his brother's room. When did Ludwig invest in a lock, seriously, wasn't like he had anything to hide. "I'm gonna kick this door in if you don't unlock it!" Still no answer, and there hadn't been one since Feli had called and said he was getting into the war with his brother. Goddamn it Spain. "Okay, you asked for it!" The albino took three steps back, then ran up to the door, which was promptly opened, sending him into a sprawling mess on the floor of his little brother's bedroom.
Quickly regaining composure, Prussia sat up and peered into the shadows behind Germany's door, where the blonde man stood. "Yo West, would it kill you to have some light in here?"
Instead of turning on the light, Germany simply moved out from behind the door, and sat on his bed with a weary huff. Prussia stood. "Hey now, you're too young to go sighing like that, you stick in the mud." Something in Germany's hand glimmered, and red eyes widened once he caught sight of it. "Shit, West, how long have you had that gun?"
The Neo-Silenced pistol in the German man's hand shone an eerie white and silver, loosely held in black gloved hands. Ludwig stared at it, a hard expression on his face.
"I don't want to fight again, Bruder." he rumbled. "Not in another world war."
The silence maintained for a little longer, before Prussia ruffled Germany's well kept hair. "Aw, come on West! Don't think like that. Not awesome."
Blue contacted red. "I thought you wanted to help France?"
"Well, yeah I did." Prussia shrugged nonchalantly. "But you're the big man here, I'm just little ol' East Germany, also known as the awesome Prussia." he grinned, showing sharp canines. "Just point me in the right direction and I'll blind them with my awesome. And don't forget, I know Russia's weak spots."
"Bruder..." Polar opposites they may be, but where one went, the other could be trusted to follow. And despite appearances, the follower these days would usually be Prussia. Germany stood, face hardening. "Let's go."
Prussia grinned and smacked him on the back. "Kesesese, atta boy, West!"
-----
"What? Are you totally serious?" Alfred exclaimed, nearly dropping his cellphone in the rush of excitement. He would have jumped up and down for joy if he wasn't still so weak and confined to bed again. Mexico sat by his bedside, waiting for him to finish his phone conversation. They could both see Matthew's observation window across the hall from where America's room was. "Oh my god Gil that is the most awesome cool thing ever!" he turned to his sister to gush. "He's got his hands on some of those silent guns!"
Mexico's eyebrows shot up to hide under her fringe, quickly followed by the corners of her widening grin. For once, she actually returned America's offered "brofist".
"Uhuh. Yeah, how many?" after listening, the bespectacled boy sucked a breath through his teeth. "Alright, so that's not many. Or even enough for one squad. But! But, if we take it apart, then- oh, you're on it? Okay, sweet. Yeah, next WDF meeting's at the usual place, 30th August." By which he meant 28th August, but Prussia knew that. You could never be sure who was listening in. "Yeah, see ya!" And he flicked the phone closed.
María grinned at him. "This is totally worth spending all my time shooting Chinks down in the middle of the ocean."
"Totally." Alfred agreed. Funny thing about this war; it had managed to bring them closer together as some kind of weird family unit. Though Mexico was only related to him through masses of immigration and Spain's influence when he was younger. "Sorry about sticking you on blockade duty though."
"If you're sorry, you'll switch with me."
"And let you handle the Middle East? I dunno..."
"Aw, Alfie, mi hermano, por favor?"
"It'd take loads of boring paperwork to move the troops..."
"Por favooooooor~!"
Oh damn, she'd got on her best pleading face, like the one where she begged to let her cross the border just this once. "Hey, not the face."
A whimper.
America sighed. "Well-"
Something let off a loud, wailing beep, which then turned into an even louder, inconsistent rhythm that started and stopped and sped and slowed. Both siblings turned to look at where the sound was coming from, across the hall...
Canada.
Nurses were responding already, crowding into the room as doctors pushed past and tried to get the suddenly spazming teen under control. His hands pressed against the bed, clenched and unclenched, teeth gritted in some unknown pain. His chest bucked up and legs thrashed. America was pressed against the glass before he even knew what he was doing.
"Mattie!" he yelled, banging on the window, but still so weakened. "Mattie, Mattie! Canada!"
Matthew's eyes flew open, wide and purple-blue as they had always been but seeing nothing. America made to rush to the door, when Mexico grabbed his arm.
"Don't!" she warned, looking frightened as he was but strangely knowing. "You can't!"
"He's my brother and I can!" America yelled, trying to yank his arm out of her grip. She dug her heels in further. "Let me go!"
"America, they're disbanding Canada!"
An odd quiet settled. The beeps of the machines and the yelling of medical jargon faded into the background for a moment, those four words echoing in his head. The world was too bright, suddenly. The air too thin. America couldn't breathe. Time slowed. Mexico's upset and concerned face became fuzzy and unimportant. Her voice broke through, but it sounded distant, like she was speaking to someone else.
"They can't hold it together like this, it's chaos. Quebec is using his chance and becoming his own country, and New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Newfoundland are going with him." Were his ears underwater? Was he drowning? Was that why nothing made sense? "British Columbia and Yukon have been given to you. I don't know about the rest, they're deciding, but it looks like they'll form some kind of combined country. They may well join you too."
He felt cold. He didn't want Canada's territory. He wanted his brother.
"It's over, America. Canada... doesn't exist anymore."
Matthew went very still all of a sudden, hands loosening and a long breath, like a sigh, leaving his mouth. His head flopped sideways, eyes blankly staring in America's direction, before they fluttered closed, and he moved no more.
Note:
- I did it. Now I'm going to go cry and curse myself. Excuse me.
Part 47
Characters (in this chapter): Austria, Hungary, Prussia, Germany, America, Mexico, Canada.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Oh god I'm going to regret this in the morning aren't I?
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.
The sounds of the piano floated as ever through the long hallways and high ceilings of Austria's house. He'd probably stayed in this one manner for so long that the piano had become one with the floor, lovingly polished and taken care of though it was. Aristocratic fingers danced along the ivory and ebony keys, coaxing soft melodies and harsh crescendos and sad harmonies. He hadn't needed sheet music for many centuries now, every note etched on the inside of his head.
Austria liked music. That was obvious. It was how he expressed himself, too reserved - not stuck up, those were Prussia's words, not his - to do so any other way. It was his heritage, no matter how he and Germany argued over who owned which composer and why. It was everything to him, and surely nothing would stop him playing, not even war on his doorstep.
There was someone behind him, and he knew who it was without looking.
Neither said anything. Austria finished the last notes of his song, letting the final chord linger before lifting his hands off the piano, closing the lid and sitting back on the piano stool.
"They're coming, aren't they." he said, resigned.
"Yes." Eyes met. "We... won't be able to go out to dinner at this rate."
The dark haired Nation considered it. "How long is the estimated time before the planes arrive?"
Hungary smiled.
-----
"West, oi, West!" Prussia banged on the door to his brother's room. When did Ludwig invest in a lock, seriously, wasn't like he had anything to hide. "I'm gonna kick this door in if you don't unlock it!" Still no answer, and there hadn't been one since Feli had called and said he was getting into the war with his brother. Goddamn it Spain. "Okay, you asked for it!" The albino took three steps back, then ran up to the door, which was promptly opened, sending him into a sprawling mess on the floor of his little brother's bedroom.
Quickly regaining composure, Prussia sat up and peered into the shadows behind Germany's door, where the blonde man stood. "Yo West, would it kill you to have some light in here?"
Instead of turning on the light, Germany simply moved out from behind the door, and sat on his bed with a weary huff. Prussia stood. "Hey now, you're too young to go sighing like that, you stick in the mud." Something in Germany's hand glimmered, and red eyes widened once he caught sight of it. "Shit, West, how long have you had that gun?"
The Neo-Silenced pistol in the German man's hand shone an eerie white and silver, loosely held in black gloved hands. Ludwig stared at it, a hard expression on his face.
"I don't want to fight again, Bruder." he rumbled. "Not in another world war."
The silence maintained for a little longer, before Prussia ruffled Germany's well kept hair. "Aw, come on West! Don't think like that. Not awesome."
Blue contacted red. "I thought you wanted to help France?"
"Well, yeah I did." Prussia shrugged nonchalantly. "But you're the big man here, I'm just little ol' East Germany, also known as the awesome Prussia." he grinned, showing sharp canines. "Just point me in the right direction and I'll blind them with my awesome. And don't forget, I know Russia's weak spots."
"Bruder..." Polar opposites they may be, but where one went, the other could be trusted to follow. And despite appearances, the follower these days would usually be Prussia. Germany stood, face hardening. "Let's go."
Prussia grinned and smacked him on the back. "Kesesese, atta boy, West!"
-----
"What? Are you totally serious?" Alfred exclaimed, nearly dropping his cellphone in the rush of excitement. He would have jumped up and down for joy if he wasn't still so weak and confined to bed again. Mexico sat by his bedside, waiting for him to finish his phone conversation. They could both see Matthew's observation window across the hall from where America's room was. "Oh my god Gil that is the most awesome cool thing ever!" he turned to his sister to gush. "He's got his hands on some of those silent guns!"
Mexico's eyebrows shot up to hide under her fringe, quickly followed by the corners of her widening grin. For once, she actually returned America's offered "brofist".
"Uhuh. Yeah, how many?" after listening, the bespectacled boy sucked a breath through his teeth. "Alright, so that's not many. Or even enough for one squad. But! But, if we take it apart, then- oh, you're on it? Okay, sweet. Yeah, next WDF meeting's at the usual place, 30th August." By which he meant 28th August, but Prussia knew that. You could never be sure who was listening in. "Yeah, see ya!" And he flicked the phone closed.
María grinned at him. "This is totally worth spending all my time shooting Chinks down in the middle of the ocean."
"Totally." Alfred agreed. Funny thing about this war; it had managed to bring them closer together as some kind of weird family unit. Though Mexico was only related to him through masses of immigration and Spain's influence when he was younger. "Sorry about sticking you on blockade duty though."
"If you're sorry, you'll switch with me."
"And let you handle the Middle East? I dunno..."
"Aw, Alfie, mi hermano, por favor?"
"It'd take loads of boring paperwork to move the troops..."
"Por favooooooor~!"
Oh damn, she'd got on her best pleading face, like the one where she begged to let her cross the border just this once. "Hey, not the face."
A whimper.
America sighed. "Well-"
Something let off a loud, wailing beep, which then turned into an even louder, inconsistent rhythm that started and stopped and sped and slowed. Both siblings turned to look at where the sound was coming from, across the hall...
Canada.
Nurses were responding already, crowding into the room as doctors pushed past and tried to get the suddenly spazming teen under control. His hands pressed against the bed, clenched and unclenched, teeth gritted in some unknown pain. His chest bucked up and legs thrashed. America was pressed against the glass before he even knew what he was doing.
"Mattie!" he yelled, banging on the window, but still so weakened. "Mattie, Mattie! Canada!"
Matthew's eyes flew open, wide and purple-blue as they had always been but seeing nothing. America made to rush to the door, when Mexico grabbed his arm.
"Don't!" she warned, looking frightened as he was but strangely knowing. "You can't!"
"He's my brother and I can!" America yelled, trying to yank his arm out of her grip. She dug her heels in further. "Let me go!"
"America, they're disbanding Canada!"
An odd quiet settled. The beeps of the machines and the yelling of medical jargon faded into the background for a moment, those four words echoing in his head. The world was too bright, suddenly. The air too thin. America couldn't breathe. Time slowed. Mexico's upset and concerned face became fuzzy and unimportant. Her voice broke through, but it sounded distant, like she was speaking to someone else.
"They can't hold it together like this, it's chaos. Quebec is using his chance and becoming his own country, and New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Newfoundland are going with him." Were his ears underwater? Was he drowning? Was that why nothing made sense? "British Columbia and Yukon have been given to you. I don't know about the rest, they're deciding, but it looks like they'll form some kind of combined country. They may well join you too."
He felt cold. He didn't want Canada's territory. He wanted his brother.
"It's over, America. Canada... doesn't exist anymore."
Matthew went very still all of a sudden, hands loosening and a long breath, like a sigh, leaving his mouth. His head flopped sideways, eyes blankly staring in America's direction, before they fluttered closed, and he moved no more.
Note:
- I did it. Now I'm going to go cry and curse myself. Excuse me.
Part 47
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
I'm a little worried to see how far you go but I shall have to say YYYY (motherfucker) BDb
Date: 2010-05-26 12:41 pm (UTC)Oh man why is it so easy to see Prussia leading all these badass tanks into battle, with banners and colours flying everywhere? So cool orz. OHSHI - GERMANLY WHAT YOU GONNA DO BITCH. D:
They totally did. How else did they rule the seas for so long? They be pimping.I'll bet that's exactly what they do, all dignity forgotten orz. Oh god battles in the Med oh god yesssss. <3 *A* Though now I'm seeing Turkey being his usual jerkass self and offering to change sides if Port hops into bed with him a bit, he half considers (FOR THE WAR EFFORT), Spain goes AAAAAH D: and England's face would probably be just like your icon orz. lol my mind what even.You're getting your boats regardless because fff naval warfare (bitch)
Date: 2010-05-26 01:01 pm (UTC)Hahahaha oh geez, standing on the tank at the very front with a giant flag going "GUESS WHO'S BACK BITCHES KESESESESE!" and the world going "oh sweet Jesus" and Prussia's like "CLOSE BUT NOT QUITE!" *blows shit up*
Geez. Now it's in my headcanon. Damn it you guysIf you got them all drunk, this is what they'd do. orz *takes notes* you are a fountain of plot points, you know that?I am so hot for naval warfare oho (ho)
Date: 2010-05-26 01:16 pm (UTC)Plant your flag on someone's arse Prussia. For the glory of the empire - oh wait, wrong timeline. Russia would probably be thrilled because he wants a chance to snatch him and make him one with him again orz. *puts on sunglasses because man check out that blaze of glory*
The Iberian harem is full of water nymphs. That only England can see, I mean.When they weren't having glorious makeouts on the deck at any rate. >> No, I get that a lot orz. I have plot EVERYWHERE. Plus you know, they used to call Portugal "The Lion of the Seas", so. Also don't forget Feli, because remember how the Chibitalia kicked Turkey's arse? XDDDYou know I sort of guessed.
Date: 2010-05-26 01:31 pm (UTC)For the glory of ... WDF? What the hell ever, he's gonna make this war epic ans AWESOME. Russia is thrilled the more people join in this war. Hence sparking the chain reaction. *walks away from explosion behind her, damn son*
England is scandalised. How could you Port.... great, Age of Exploration orgy. It is in my head. Aww, he and England can get along in their lion-ness. Oh yeah, Feli's secret badass side. I love that strip.See this is why they got married in the first place.
Date: 2010-05-26 01:39 pm (UTC)Well I'm sure someone would definitely be glad to have him on their side. Though I'm certain Hungary's frying pan can probably deflect bullets. Oh god Russia oh god what else can you do? Besides turn on your allies...more than you already have orz. *holds up a scorecard "10/10" w00t*
I'm sorry Inglaterra, the sea is a very fickle mistress....yeah it's not like I don't already totally ship England/Iberia bros as it is. Not at all. Hot threesome, what is that. Aww aww England probably looked like a little lion cub to him when they first met, with his precious flyaway hair. ;u; Why are these Romance nations so badass on boats? Well...barring France and Romano orz. XDRe: See this is why they got married in the first place.
Date: 2010-05-26 01:49 pm (UTC)Hungary's so totally ready to go, bring it on. *sharpens frying pan* Russia can do many things, da?
Don't I know it. I caught her with France the other day.I don't know, maybe it's something to do with the glorious hatesex between Spain and England and the fluff between England and Portugal and the angsty bromance between Portugal and Spain. :| Hey hey France was pretty good with his ships, when they weren't being pillaged by England. >> You're right about Romano though. *pets him*no subject
Date: 2010-05-26 01:59 pm (UTC)Austria can serenade them as they march on to battle, I mean what. *oh god killer frying pans* He's obviously very talented. Scarily so.
Ah...well, I suppose it was good while it lasted. /w-writes sappy love poetry sigh orz...I really want to see a fic where all of this combines into a glorious OT3, possibly if Spain and Port rejoin as Iberia and England has no choice but to play nice with Spain (once again) if he wants to visit Port orz. :|a Oh right corsairs. TRUFAX. sob Romano why so useless? ...Unless the mafia counts. *patspats*