Family Ties [Part 78]
Sep. 1st, 2010 01:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hellzabethTitle: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): India, Saudi Arabia, Portugal, Turkey, Greece, Afghanistan
Rating: 12
Warnings: Not much, mild language but that's Turkey for you.
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.
Saudi Arabia wasn't the type of person to be kept inside all day. She belonged out on the dunes, in the streets, by the ocean, with her people. Not in a bed, one leg still not strong enough to walk about on her own. She was house bound, or more accurately, bed bound. A woman her age shouldn't need a walking stick. And so she sat propped up on pillows, staring out the window into the torrential downpour of the monsoon rains, her face turned away from the door.
It probably would have saddened India to see it, if she hadn't dealt the damage herself.
"Are you going to come in, or stand there all day." Saudi Arabia asked, her dark hair freely flowing over her shoulders in the absence of her hijab. She hadn't even bothered brushing it.
India stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind her, sitting on a small stool next to the bed, and looking at the crutches leaning against the end of the bed.
"If you're going to apologise, I don't want to hear it." the bedridden Nation said neutrally. "We'll both know you don't mean it, al-Hind."
"I wasn't going to." the elder responded in kind, the pounding of the rain outside an unusual but fitting addition to the scene. "I only came to tell you we're dismantling the nuclear weapons pointed at you."
A short silence passed. "What could you be talking about, I wonder."
"We all knew your original intent in joining the war was for profit and to support your neighbours and family, but it's gone past that, now, hasn't it?" A question that wasn't really a question, but the Arabic Nation continued to watch the rain. "It's now more expensive than profitable to keep fighting, and there are more casualties than you'd dared to have thought of at the start."
"Because of you." The accusation was accompanied with Saudi Arabia turning to look at India, dark eyes dull with lack of sleep.
"Because of me." she'll freely admit it. She doesn't like using nuclear weapons, doesn't have the flare for it that America does, but she will not deny what she has done. "You should pick your enemies more carefully, Khalidah."
Saudi Arabia's lips form a flat line of irritation and she looks away again. They sit with only the rain as sound for a while longer, until India picks up the hairbrush on the bedside table, and gently pulls it through a strand of the other woman's hair. Saudi Arabia tenses, but by the third stroke still does nothing, hands clenching the bedsheets in her lap.
"The others are pulling out of the war. I know it, the whole rest of the area knows it." India says softly, slowly, with the stroke of the brush through long dark hair. "We're not fighting anymore. Are you still going to be angry with me?"
"Maybe if you weren't occupying Pakistan and myself, I would be more open to reconciliation." Now there, there is a snarl, hateful and precisely what she'd been holding back this whole time.
"I'm merely stabilizing Pakistan's government in the absence of her leaders." the ancient Nation's tones are soothing and calm, but Saudi Arabia growls something unsavory in Arabic to herself. "And for you I'm just making sure everything will stay peaceful."
Saudi Arabia let out a bitter laugh. "I wish you knew how much like an empire you sound."
India's own smile was just as sour. "Trust me, I do."
---
Portugal seemed a lot more cheerful now he had his phone plugged in to a charger point. The American soldiers were all quite bemused and confused by the assortment of people traveling together in the truck together, particularly the small Afghan woman with the assortment of weaponry that she wouldn't let them touch. Turkey was trying to get information about why they were here out of one of the soldiers, but the young man wouldn't give him a straight answer. Or even a believable one.
"Can you believe they're trying to feed me bullshit about a 'training exercise'?" he grumbled to Portugal and Greece, sitting between the two of them in a military tent way too equipped to be just for a training exercise. "Firstly, it's Russia in the middle of winter. Secondly, they're at war with fucking Russia! Have they not been around for the past two years?!"
"They tried to tell me that they were scouts." Greece deadpanned, slumped lazily against the wall of the tent, deprived of his cats and quite sulky about it. They seemed less happy to follow him into the cold of winter. "And that this wasn't a real assault."
"Probably not." Afghanistan piped up, coming to join the men where they were sitting. "The city was shelled before we were even here. I think America might be moving much faster through Russia's lands than we thought."
Thoughtful quiet settled on the group, interrupted by Portugal's phone making a cheerful "beep!" noise. Portugal pounced on it like a starving man on a cooked meal, tapping away at the buttons furiously before pausing to read something. Turkey leaned over his shoulder to try and see what it said, but Portugal gave him a look and held it away to read himself.
The Iberian Nation abruptly stood, and strode out of the tent towards the truck. Exchanging glances, the others followed. Portugal lead them all the way to the truck, opening the door and slamming it behind him, the rest of the group climbing in to their own seats. Portugal didn't try to move the car, but sat in his seat staring at his phone.
"We're all on tenterhooks, Jibril." Turkey droned, folding his arms. "What was so damn important about that text."
"Arthur sent it." He began, and before Sadiq could make a snide comment continued. "It's about three days behind schedule. He says he's fine and on his way to Russia with only a few troubles."
"Big freakin' whoop."
"That's not all." Gabriel sounded irritated at being cut over. "That's not all. There's... America's not been replying properly to communications. He's being vague, deliberately so. England doesn't know what's up with him, though he thinks maybe there's something deep under cover..." Portugal shook his head. "I'm not sure if I have his optimism."
"Jibril!" Afghanistan whispered urgently, looking out the back window. "Jibril, America's soldiers are coming- they have guns out!"
"Well this is going to end well." Greece muttered, a frown appearing on his face. Portugal started up the engine, revved as hard as he dared, and slammed off the breaks, tires screeching on the ice as the treads dug in and scratched their way into motion. Bullets whizzed through the back window and Afghanistan yelped, hitting the deck and covering her head, the boys instinctively ducking.
"Shit!" Turkey swore. "Silenced guns? How long have you guys had silenced guns?!"
"I didn't think we did!" Portugal yelled back, cursing that the windscreen was cracked and impossible to see through until another bullet shattered it completely. "America's been hiding things from us--"
With a bang, one of the tires of the truck burst, and the vehicle slanted dangerously on one side accompanied by a collective yelp from the passengers.
"Keep going!" Afghanistan yelled over the screeching tires, picking up her own gun and firing back at them. She'd stolen rounds from the camp when she'd had the chance. Bad habit. Tossing another gun to Greece, he also took up firing at their assailants. "We'll find another car later, just go!"
Notes:
- Dun. Dun. DUUUUUUN!
- "al-Hind" is the Arabic word for India. Duh.
- The text is revealed! And while England has much more faith in America, Portugal is bound by no such illusions...
Part 79
Characters (in this chapter): India, Saudi Arabia, Portugal, Turkey, Greece, Afghanistan
Rating: 12
Warnings: Not much, mild language but that's Turkey for you.
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.
Saudi Arabia wasn't the type of person to be kept inside all day. She belonged out on the dunes, in the streets, by the ocean, with her people. Not in a bed, one leg still not strong enough to walk about on her own. She was house bound, or more accurately, bed bound. A woman her age shouldn't need a walking stick. And so she sat propped up on pillows, staring out the window into the torrential downpour of the monsoon rains, her face turned away from the door.
It probably would have saddened India to see it, if she hadn't dealt the damage herself.
"Are you going to come in, or stand there all day." Saudi Arabia asked, her dark hair freely flowing over her shoulders in the absence of her hijab. She hadn't even bothered brushing it.
India stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind her, sitting on a small stool next to the bed, and looking at the crutches leaning against the end of the bed.
"If you're going to apologise, I don't want to hear it." the bedridden Nation said neutrally. "We'll both know you don't mean it, al-Hind."
"I wasn't going to." the elder responded in kind, the pounding of the rain outside an unusual but fitting addition to the scene. "I only came to tell you we're dismantling the nuclear weapons pointed at you."
A short silence passed. "What could you be talking about, I wonder."
"We all knew your original intent in joining the war was for profit and to support your neighbours and family, but it's gone past that, now, hasn't it?" A question that wasn't really a question, but the Arabic Nation continued to watch the rain. "It's now more expensive than profitable to keep fighting, and there are more casualties than you'd dared to have thought of at the start."
"Because of you." The accusation was accompanied with Saudi Arabia turning to look at India, dark eyes dull with lack of sleep.
"Because of me." she'll freely admit it. She doesn't like using nuclear weapons, doesn't have the flare for it that America does, but she will not deny what she has done. "You should pick your enemies more carefully, Khalidah."
Saudi Arabia's lips form a flat line of irritation and she looks away again. They sit with only the rain as sound for a while longer, until India picks up the hairbrush on the bedside table, and gently pulls it through a strand of the other woman's hair. Saudi Arabia tenses, but by the third stroke still does nothing, hands clenching the bedsheets in her lap.
"The others are pulling out of the war. I know it, the whole rest of the area knows it." India says softly, slowly, with the stroke of the brush through long dark hair. "We're not fighting anymore. Are you still going to be angry with me?"
"Maybe if you weren't occupying Pakistan and myself, I would be more open to reconciliation." Now there, there is a snarl, hateful and precisely what she'd been holding back this whole time.
"I'm merely stabilizing Pakistan's government in the absence of her leaders." the ancient Nation's tones are soothing and calm, but Saudi Arabia growls something unsavory in Arabic to herself. "And for you I'm just making sure everything will stay peaceful."
Saudi Arabia let out a bitter laugh. "I wish you knew how much like an empire you sound."
India's own smile was just as sour. "Trust me, I do."
---
Portugal seemed a lot more cheerful now he had his phone plugged in to a charger point. The American soldiers were all quite bemused and confused by the assortment of people traveling together in the truck together, particularly the small Afghan woman with the assortment of weaponry that she wouldn't let them touch. Turkey was trying to get information about why they were here out of one of the soldiers, but the young man wouldn't give him a straight answer. Or even a believable one.
"Can you believe they're trying to feed me bullshit about a 'training exercise'?" he grumbled to Portugal and Greece, sitting between the two of them in a military tent way too equipped to be just for a training exercise. "Firstly, it's Russia in the middle of winter. Secondly, they're at war with fucking Russia! Have they not been around for the past two years?!"
"They tried to tell me that they were scouts." Greece deadpanned, slumped lazily against the wall of the tent, deprived of his cats and quite sulky about it. They seemed less happy to follow him into the cold of winter. "And that this wasn't a real assault."
"Probably not." Afghanistan piped up, coming to join the men where they were sitting. "The city was shelled before we were even here. I think America might be moving much faster through Russia's lands than we thought."
Thoughtful quiet settled on the group, interrupted by Portugal's phone making a cheerful "beep!" noise. Portugal pounced on it like a starving man on a cooked meal, tapping away at the buttons furiously before pausing to read something. Turkey leaned over his shoulder to try and see what it said, but Portugal gave him a look and held it away to read himself.
The Iberian Nation abruptly stood, and strode out of the tent towards the truck. Exchanging glances, the others followed. Portugal lead them all the way to the truck, opening the door and slamming it behind him, the rest of the group climbing in to their own seats. Portugal didn't try to move the car, but sat in his seat staring at his phone.
"We're all on tenterhooks, Jibril." Turkey droned, folding his arms. "What was so damn important about that text."
"Arthur sent it." He began, and before Sadiq could make a snide comment continued. "It's about three days behind schedule. He says he's fine and on his way to Russia with only a few troubles."
"Big freakin' whoop."
"That's not all." Gabriel sounded irritated at being cut over. "That's not all. There's... America's not been replying properly to communications. He's being vague, deliberately so. England doesn't know what's up with him, though he thinks maybe there's something deep under cover..." Portugal shook his head. "I'm not sure if I have his optimism."
"Jibril!" Afghanistan whispered urgently, looking out the back window. "Jibril, America's soldiers are coming- they have guns out!"
"Well this is going to end well." Greece muttered, a frown appearing on his face. Portugal started up the engine, revved as hard as he dared, and slammed off the breaks, tires screeching on the ice as the treads dug in and scratched their way into motion. Bullets whizzed through the back window and Afghanistan yelped, hitting the deck and covering her head, the boys instinctively ducking.
"Shit!" Turkey swore. "Silenced guns? How long have you guys had silenced guns?!"
"I didn't think we did!" Portugal yelled back, cursing that the windscreen was cracked and impossible to see through until another bullet shattered it completely. "America's been hiding things from us--"
With a bang, one of the tires of the truck burst, and the vehicle slanted dangerously on one side accompanied by a collective yelp from the passengers.
"Keep going!" Afghanistan yelled over the screeching tires, picking up her own gun and firing back at them. She'd stolen rounds from the camp when she'd had the chance. Bad habit. Tossing another gun to Greece, he also took up firing at their assailants. "We'll find another car later, just go!"
Notes:
- Dun. Dun. DUUUUUUN!
- "al-Hind" is the Arabic word for India. Duh.
- The text is revealed! And while England has much more faith in America, Portugal is bound by no such illusions...
Part 79
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tl;dr for my favourite team of car jacking baby penguins /o/
Date: 2010-09-01 07:15 am (UTC)YOU KNOW WHAT. I think Team Middle East deserves its own fanmix or something. Because I can't stop grinning whenever they make it onto the scene. That's a wonderful side-plot right there. XD Glad to see Port's back to his dere self nonetheless. ;u; Maybe now at least he could CONCENTRATE on the important things. >>
fff it's so easy to see Afghanistan and her arsenal of weaponry as a security blanket of sorts baww. And the boys making grumpy B| faces and sitting in a row waiting for America's people to come back. lol Turkey having no respect for privacy... granted on this trip I'm sure the privacy line blurred VERY quickly. And his eyerolling at Port's repressed English husband never gets old. A-And awww Afghanistan calling Port "Jibril" as well bawww so cute. ;; Such a bad influence you are Turkey. XD And great, now they have to venture out into the cold to steal another car. Fun times for all. |D Port has experience with this sort of driving after being forced to take the wheel during England's car chase stints with France in the early days of the automobile.
Speaking of America though ;lksdf so scary. ;A; And of course Port doesn't trust him, he doesn't trust trolls as far as he can throw them. B|a
The mental image is both d'aww and BADASS. Also I never mind your tl;dr dear <3
Date: 2010-09-01 10:54 am (UTC)akdjsdlgk THAT WOULD BE AWESOME. Though God knows I'd have no idea what songs to put in it. Epic stuff.
She probably sleeps in a pile of ammo and magazine clips. How cute. <3 Lol all the boys sulking like B| This is bullshit. Afghanistan fielding questions from the soldiers who haven't seen a pretty woman in months hahaha orz. Privacy what privacy these lot have been sleeping in the same truck for a few weeks THERE IS NO PRIVACY. Well Afghanistan is a Muslim nation, Jibril being the name of the angel Gabriel in Islam so... yeah. It's also adorable as you said. Pffft oh the 1920s, so much fun. Port are you flashing back to 100 years ago, England throwing the tire iron out the window with intent to murder France at high speed with it?
It's like a looming shadow. He does looming better than Russia, I think. You expect Russia to loom, but America... eeep. Port's right to be unsure. <3
I think it should be their official mascot kthnx
Date: 2010-09-02 02:29 pm (UTC)I THINK. I think we should write it out and then they'll have lots of adventures and then there will be MORE SONGS TO FIT THE THEME. I have plenty of song ideas as it is. /o/
And they just put a blanket over her and her pile of ammo being all "...<3" lmao yes, lots of straight macho men in America's army who unfortunately wouldn't be interested in the least when Port bats his pretty eyes. It's all up to you now Afghanistan! o/ ......I am getting all these adorable lulzy images where they HUDDLE FOR WARMTH now orz. Because it's freezing in the van lol. Only ladies have semi-privacy on this trip. lol well... it's just that he's so B| at being called "Jibril" because s;ldfk BAD MEMORIES, but with Afghanistan he probably just takes it into stride and just sighs orz. He's flashing back alright. Only it's not as much fun when you're being shot at and not actually WINNING orz. Though there's an idea. Let's all throw shit at the American armed forces. XD
Not that England would listen to Port telling him that he doesn't trust America, because to his mind they don't really get along famously as it is and Port's only saying that because he's probably jealous or something. Which only inflates England's ego further orz.
BY THE WAY. TURKEY HACKING PORT'S PHONE. I'M DYING TO KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN. Even though nothing's even happened yet orz.