Drabble dump~ 2!
Mar. 31st, 2010 12:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hellzabethAs before, there will be little to no information provided. I'm just messing about with the characters and the settings.
It was a rare occasion, but for once, all was quiet in the UK family household. This might have had something to do with the fact that Scotland was asleep on the sofa with a book over his face, Northern Ireland had gotten distracted by the internet and could be heard laughing at something that sounded suspiciously like Only Fools and Horses upstairs, Wales was cleaning up the dinner things in the kitchen and England was watching the football, biting on his hand to keep back the tension.
All of this was shattered when suddenly there was the peircing cry of "ROONEY NOOOOOOOOO!!"
Scotland jerked awake so hard he fell off the sofa, Northern Ireland swore quite loudly upstairs, and Wales nearly dropped the glass he was holding.
"Bloody soddin' hell Artie!" Scotland climbed up off the floor. "What's wrong with ye?!"
Wales entered the room to find Arthur looking like he'd just lost the Falkland Islands to Argentina. He was on his knees on the living room carpet, staring at the TV despairingly.
"Nooo, Rooney you can't!" he cried like his voice would somehow carry over to where the game was being played in Munich. "Beckham's already out, you can't be out too!"
"Arthur, what's going on?" Wales asked in his calming tone, though his brother looked so distraught he wondered if it would have any effect.
"He was limping! I saw it, he had to be helped to the touchline-" Oh good god, he looked like he was going to burst into tears. "I'll get slaughtered at the World Cup if he's injured! I can't lose both of my stars!"
Northern Ireland charged into the room. "What's happened? Are we being invaded by the French?! Is Stephen Fry dead? Have we run out of tea?!" he asked, only half sarcastic.
"Rooney's got injured, the twat." Scotland grumbled as he sat down heavily where he had once been. "Artie's over-reactin'."
North looked disappointed. "Oh." He went back upstairs, bored already.
"This is a perfectly reasonable response!" England yelled back, then buried his face in his hands. "Ohhh I can't loose to Brazil again, I just can't! Gabriel will tease me forever if I do."
Wales, who had disappeared without anyone noticing, returned with a cup of tea. "There now Arthur, it's not the end of the world. It was only a little limp, it's not like with Beckham." Though he hadn't actually seen the match or the limping so he couldn't really tell but, hey, anything for a quiet life. England sniffed and accepted the tea, sipping at it gingerly.
"Just my sodding luck." He mumbled sullenly.
==========
"So, you're saying that the physical world is a lie?" Rome questioned, looking more like a perplexed student than an Empire who currently had his head resting on a naked woman's lap. Greece played with his hair.
"Not a lie, just a shadow of the Perfect Realm." she corrected. "All of the things we see, hear, smell, taste and touch," trailing a hand across his shoulder with a little smirk. "are mere forgeries compared to the real thing."
"How so?"
"Imagine a cave." she explained. Rome grinned and she hit his shoulder lightly. "Not that kind. One made of rock, where there are prisoners kept inside. They have never seen the light of day, and have been raised in the cave all their lives. However, there is a fire behind them, and people often carry objects in front of the fire, casting shadows onto the wall in front of them. They can't turn around to look at the fire, and don't really know it's there. They assume the shadows are the real objects."
Egypt sighed from where she was curled up like a cat at Rome's side, similarly naked but also asleep. Rome gestured for Greece to go on. "One day, one of the prisoners is released from the shackles so he can turn his head and see the real objects. None of the other prisoners believe him when he says that the shadows on the walls are imitations of the real thing. The shadows are flat, all one colour, and brief. The real things are three-dimensional, bright and permanent."
Gaul and Iberia lounged somewhere off to the side, looking thoroughly bored with this. Greece was known for her philosophy, but did it really have to end up here in the bedroom?
"So you mean that we're all just shadows of something greater?" Rome looked like he might be catching on. "And if we just looked beyond what we can feel with our senses, we'd find something greater?"
"Now you're getting it." she smiled. "But it's more complicated than just that. I haven't told you what happens when the released prisoner, representing the philosopher, gets out of the cave."
Deciding they'd had quite enough of Greece hogging all of the attention, Gaul and Iberia shared a look and a nod, forming an important agreement without even using words.
Gaul launched herself at Iberia, who laughed and planted an insistent kiss on the blonde woman's lips. This kiss turned open mouthed, tanned skin completely bare and rubbing against ivory white. Gaul threaded her fingers through Iberia's dark curls, eliciting a soft moan of contentment. Iberia's hands raked soft trails down Gaul's back, coming to rest on her thighs.
"Roma, are you listening- oh."
==========
Sarah was giving him that look again.
He shouldn't care. Why should he care about some Nation that didn't even have land and just spread their people throughout the world without a care. She shouldn't be here. She was just trash. Expendable. She was an infection and a blight upon him and a convenient scapegoat and he shouldn't care if she was looking at him like that.
He landed a swift kick in her stomach, adding to the bruises that polka-dotted her body.
Why did the hate in those eyes affect him so?
"What." he asked flatly. His usually present smile was gone. "How do you dare to look at me like that?"
There were flecks of green and blue and a million mixed bloodlines in her eyes. "Because I am still free to do so."
==========
"I'll kill ye." Scotland snarled through the bars of his cell. England sat on the other side of the hall, the ravens of the Tower cawing outside the window and pecking the eyes out of the treasonous heads impaled along the banks of the Thames. "Just you wait, ye overstuffed puritan, I'll kill ye yet."
"I'll await thy efforts to try." England replied, playing with the keys to the door idly. "Thou can but rot here in the mean time."
Scotland spat. "If ye dare to 'thou' me once more I'll run ye through." he snarled. England's smirk widened.
"I'll be waiting for thine foolish attempt."
Oh look, new things!
It was a rare occasion, but for once, all was quiet in the UK family household. This might have had something to do with the fact that Scotland was asleep on the sofa with a book over his face, Northern Ireland had gotten distracted by the internet and could be heard laughing at something that sounded suspiciously like Only Fools and Horses upstairs, Wales was cleaning up the dinner things in the kitchen and England was watching the football, biting on his hand to keep back the tension.
All of this was shattered when suddenly there was the peircing cry of "ROONEY NOOOOOOOOO!!"
Scotland jerked awake so hard he fell off the sofa, Northern Ireland swore quite loudly upstairs, and Wales nearly dropped the glass he was holding.
"Bloody soddin' hell Artie!" Scotland climbed up off the floor. "What's wrong with ye?!"
Wales entered the room to find Arthur looking like he'd just lost the Falkland Islands to Argentina. He was on his knees on the living room carpet, staring at the TV despairingly.
"Nooo, Rooney you can't!" he cried like his voice would somehow carry over to where the game was being played in Munich. "Beckham's already out, you can't be out too!"
"Arthur, what's going on?" Wales asked in his calming tone, though his brother looked so distraught he wondered if it would have any effect.
"He was limping! I saw it, he had to be helped to the touchline-" Oh good god, he looked like he was going to burst into tears. "I'll get slaughtered at the World Cup if he's injured! I can't lose both of my stars!"
Northern Ireland charged into the room. "What's happened? Are we being invaded by the French?! Is Stephen Fry dead? Have we run out of tea?!" he asked, only half sarcastic.
"Rooney's got injured, the twat." Scotland grumbled as he sat down heavily where he had once been. "Artie's over-reactin'."
North looked disappointed. "Oh." He went back upstairs, bored already.
"This is a perfectly reasonable response!" England yelled back, then buried his face in his hands. "Ohhh I can't loose to Brazil again, I just can't! Gabriel will tease me forever if I do."
Wales, who had disappeared without anyone noticing, returned with a cup of tea. "There now Arthur, it's not the end of the world. It was only a little limp, it's not like with Beckham." Though he hadn't actually seen the match or the limping so he couldn't really tell but, hey, anything for a quiet life. England sniffed and accepted the tea, sipping at it gingerly.
"Just my sodding luck." He mumbled sullenly.
==========
"So, you're saying that the physical world is a lie?" Rome questioned, looking more like a perplexed student than an Empire who currently had his head resting on a naked woman's lap. Greece played with his hair.
"Not a lie, just a shadow of the Perfect Realm." she corrected. "All of the things we see, hear, smell, taste and touch," trailing a hand across his shoulder with a little smirk. "are mere forgeries compared to the real thing."
"How so?"
"Imagine a cave." she explained. Rome grinned and she hit his shoulder lightly. "Not that kind. One made of rock, where there are prisoners kept inside. They have never seen the light of day, and have been raised in the cave all their lives. However, there is a fire behind them, and people often carry objects in front of the fire, casting shadows onto the wall in front of them. They can't turn around to look at the fire, and don't really know it's there. They assume the shadows are the real objects."
Egypt sighed from where she was curled up like a cat at Rome's side, similarly naked but also asleep. Rome gestured for Greece to go on. "One day, one of the prisoners is released from the shackles so he can turn his head and see the real objects. None of the other prisoners believe him when he says that the shadows on the walls are imitations of the real thing. The shadows are flat, all one colour, and brief. The real things are three-dimensional, bright and permanent."
Gaul and Iberia lounged somewhere off to the side, looking thoroughly bored with this. Greece was known for her philosophy, but did it really have to end up here in the bedroom?
"So you mean that we're all just shadows of something greater?" Rome looked like he might be catching on. "And if we just looked beyond what we can feel with our senses, we'd find something greater?"
"Now you're getting it." she smiled. "But it's more complicated than just that. I haven't told you what happens when the released prisoner, representing the philosopher, gets out of the cave."
Deciding they'd had quite enough of Greece hogging all of the attention, Gaul and Iberia shared a look and a nod, forming an important agreement without even using words.
Gaul launched herself at Iberia, who laughed and planted an insistent kiss on the blonde woman's lips. This kiss turned open mouthed, tanned skin completely bare and rubbing against ivory white. Gaul threaded her fingers through Iberia's dark curls, eliciting a soft moan of contentment. Iberia's hands raked soft trails down Gaul's back, coming to rest on her thighs.
"Roma, are you listening- oh."
==========
Sarah was giving him that look again.
He shouldn't care. Why should he care about some Nation that didn't even have land and just spread their people throughout the world without a care. She shouldn't be here. She was just trash. Expendable. She was an infection and a blight upon him and a convenient scapegoat and he shouldn't care if she was looking at him like that.
He landed a swift kick in her stomach, adding to the bruises that polka-dotted her body.
Why did the hate in those eyes affect him so?
"What." he asked flatly. His usually present smile was gone. "How do you dare to look at me like that?"
There were flecks of green and blue and a million mixed bloodlines in her eyes. "Because I am still free to do so."
==========
"I'll kill ye." Scotland snarled through the bars of his cell. England sat on the other side of the hall, the ravens of the Tower cawing outside the window and pecking the eyes out of the treasonous heads impaled along the banks of the Thames. "Just you wait, ye overstuffed puritan, I'll kill ye yet."
"I'll await thy efforts to try." England replied, playing with the keys to the door idly. "Thou can but rot here in the mean time."
Scotland spat. "If ye dare to 'thou' me once more I'll run ye through." he snarled. England's smirk widened.
"I'll be waiting for thine foolish attempt."
Oh look, new things!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-03-31 03:46 am (UTC)LMFAO. I don't even care that it's already been commented on. It had me rolling~
no subject
Date: 2010-03-31 01:41 pm (UTC)Glad it made you laugh though <3