[Fanfic] How To Get Your Awesome Back. The Hooligan Way. Part II
There was a certain charm to being fashionably late. Prussia had always been one of those 'fashionably late' guys whenever he went through important formal events (or just events in general that did not involve booze) - not because it was fashionable, mind you, but mostly because he was a bastard who liked irritating people.
And today was an important day for Prussia. He could feel the day’s importance throb on his toes as he marched from the elevator to the impossibly clean hallway of the venue, feet hitting the maroon carpeted floors with dull thuds as he smelt the disgusting scent of ‘new and clean lemony fresh’ everywhere. He reached a wide, chestnut two-part door and swiped his hands down his blue uniform with finality.
He was going to take the floor in this year’s summit meeting.
… or hell, now that they had ‘policies’ added in. Germany’s idea.
Surprise surprise.
That was another reason why he came to the meeting late in the first place.
The story was that Germany had managed to organise a strict set of rules before last year’s summit had commenced, in hopes that it would lessen the violence and increase the meeting’s productivity. The idea was surprisingly met with massive votes of agreement. The rules were virtually: no hitting, punching, or anything related to violence in general; no illicit or sexual escapades before (after that one time when they entered the meeting room and saw Estonia with his pants down) or during the meeting; and so on and so forth. Although after a whole day of attending the meet sans violence, everyone - except Germany - thought it was more like killing themselves through car fume suicide. Germany even brought a large jar with ‘Summit Offense Pennies' written on it with red permanent marker. Unfortunately for them, the blond nation was right about the 'increase of productivity part'.
The summit without their brawls, their violence, guns, swords, using shoes as projectiles to another person’s crotch, and verbal tongue lashing was not a meeting fit for Prussia’s amusement, too. In fact, in last year's meeting, the precise time when everybody was about to wail in distraught was exactly the time when Prussia had snuck out to freedom and left the poor saps back in the meeting room... one of the upsides of not really being a single dominating nation any more. But since his Awesome (it deserved a capital letter) had been missing for three days already, he was willing to make sacrifices. Including attend today’s summit.
So he came in late, which he felt would save the pain of immense, ungodly boredom.
Indeed, Prussia was very glad that the summit had been due a couple of days after he had lost his Awesome. Boring or not, the meeting was a perfect method to reach all the world nations without having to run around the globe in order to solve this unfortunate crisis (because the world without his Awesome was obviously not a better world, of course). Plus the whole 'taking the floor this year' wasn’t entirely a lose-lose kind of thing, and he’d be able to stir some trouble in the process. Not to mention his mere presence would bring a bit of life in the whole room.
Prussia stealthily pushed open the door and peered through the small slit, welcomed by the sight of at least eleven or so nations asleep on their faces, England biting his pencil almost in half, and America talking about…
“… glass domes over continents!” he proclaimed in his usual boisterous manner, “And then we’d sink all the land under the sea to know what mermaids feel like. Won’t that be cool?”
England gave a heavy sigh, “And how does this help our current economic crisis?”
“Aah- I expected you to ask that,” America said knowingly, shaking a finger at England's direction, “We’d get to see you wear that mermaid costume I bought in Disneyland. Take pictures and sell them for money and stuff.”
“Oh please,” France said, “I think it would be better if he wore nothing at all.”
“Why you-”
The alarm next to Germany gave a shrill ring, and everyone who was not snoring sighed in relief. England threw a boot in America’s direction and hit him square on the head, skewing Texas on his face, “Time’s up, wanker.”
“But it’s only been three minutes!”
England ignored him and turned to Germany, “It’s your turn to take the floor, Germany, and no America - I will not wear your bloody mermaid tailfins and put corals in my hair.”
Prussia snorted in amusement but still remained unseen so far.
“I say we all vote for it.” France said, “I vote ‘Oui’~ for England to wear those scrumptious seashell bras only.”
Prussia slammed a fist on the door and forced it open with a bang, singing out a joyful whoop before England threw another fistfight and make him wait longer, “FUCK YEAH!” He was glad that at least some of the people around the table jumped up in attention of the Formerly Awesome Him, “Witness me, Prussia, take center stage and beat your sad presentations to the GROUND!”
Austria bowled over Prussia’s presence and gaped at his professional leather suitcase when he spotted the thing swinging at the albino's side like a battleaxe, “What is he doing here?” he asked, “Germany, what’s going on?”
“Ah-hurm.” Germany looked at the rest of the nations who had thus quieted down to hear his explanation. For a while Prussia thought he looked as if he had just swallowed a fly, “For the sake of - well, Prussia is going to take my place in this meeting.”
“Damn straight. What did you do to give them sad, pathetic faces, Germany, kill a puppy?” Germany groaned in reply, powerless over the situation. He had a very good excuse not to exercise his rigid standards, though: being stuck with his brother who almost got ran over by a truck after he thought the sticker behind its side mirror was his little yellow bird would do that to someone. It didn’t help that he had happened across Germany’s collection of BDSM magazines when he thought the bird had been hiding in his room. Awkward. Especially since Prussia proposed that he and Germany perform a threesome with Feliciano like those four guys in this one page.
Very, very awkward for him indeed.
Prussia stormed toward the podium, his head raised proud despite having lost his Awesome, and he managed to walk in quick successive strides, even with his impressive looking - obviously heavy - suitcase. He glanced briefly at Spain who looked as if he was about to explode from enthusiasm, Russia bastard was smiling at him (the freak), Austria looked as if he was about to cry (with dignity), Germany was oddly not looking at him and was staring at the table like a guilty little boy, while the French bastard looked both amused and excited at the same time. So far so good. Even without his Awesome, people were still dazzled by his Semi-Awesomeness.
“Everybody in this fucking room, I want you all to listen to the Formerly Awesome ME.”
Austria sat up in attention from his slumped pose and blinked, “Did I just hear wrong or did he just say ‘formerly awesome me’?” he said, his face blank with shock.
Prussia snapped open his suitcase and looked at Austria, “Why yes I did, moron.” he gave him a wide smile and threw some projector slides haphazardly on the lower table next to the podium and the projector, “Glad you noticed, as I have, indeed, lost my Awesome. Horrible, right?”
Silence permeated throughout the meeting room. At least ten to eleven nations were heard snoring in the background.
“But don’t worry - I will grace you all with my Awesome Awesomeness once you help me find it. So every loser in this fucking room pay attention please.”
“How can you ‘lose’ your awesome?” America tilted his head to the side.
“I think that he’s suffering a mid-life crisis.” England said.
“I think he just needs a right hit on the head with my pan~”
Switzerland made a disgruntled sound and began loading one of his shotguns, “I say we shoot him in the head and see what happens.”
“No, brother, please don’t… we don’t have anymore pennies.”
“Hmph.”
“He’s just…” Germany gulped, looking at all the accusing glares in his direction, “Going through a phase in his life.” Germany said his face down and guilty.
Prussia ignored the ruckus, his mind focused only on one thing (for once), and took out a pile of papers under another set of projector slides in his suitcase. He marched toward the large meeting table and began passing it around with a skip in his step, “These flyers contain the link to my blog account so that you’d know where to message the Formerly Awesome Me, and a picture of my Awesome.” He said, “I worked hard on that, y’know? All night yesterday! I was-”
“Um,” Spain turned the flyer Prussia had just given him sideways and underways in confusion, “Prussia, the flyer just has a picture of you.”
“Yeah, isn’t that awesome? Now you have a picture of my former Awesome for your viewing pleasure.”
Everybody groaned.
“Germany,” Austria said, “This is all your fault.”
“This is ridiculous.” England muttered. He crumpled his flyer and threw it behind his back with a huff.
Prussia ignored the rest of the room’s inquiring gaze and leisurely walked back to the podium. He set his attention on the projector and slipped the first slide in, and proudly showed the same picture from the flyers he had just given out: a photo of himself, posing with a grin and a middle finger, “That was me with me Awesome, see? See the difference?” he pointed to his own face and grinned.
He slipped in another slide of him completely drunk off his head, slumped over a table drooling, “Here’s another picture of my Awesome and Awesome me.”
“Holy shit, I remember that night!” Denmark quipped, who had suddenly sat up awake from his nap, “That waitress was a fucking hottie, eh?”
“Fuck no. Maybe for you, but she reminded me of big brows here…”
“Nyahahah~”
England snapped his pencil in half in silent rage, “Can I break at least one rule, Germany?”
“Rules are rules.”
“Yeah, rules are rules, Eng-land.” The Dane stuck his tongue out at England. England, however, didn’t hesitate to throw his broken pencil at the Dane’s spiky head. He then took a penny from his jacket pocket and let it slide over the glossy table towards Germany, who mechanically slipped it in the offense jar with a blank face that looked as if he’d been doing this all morning.
Prussia slipped in another slide which, much to the rest of the nations’ relief, was the first picture he had showed them of himself. He slid out a thin black stick from his suitcase and whacked it on the table hard to gather his audience’s dwindling attention, “See that, audience? I was so Awesome that time, but compared to myself now it’s obvious that I’m only half as Awesome than I used to be. Now why’s that, mm?”
Hungary nodded, “Okay. Can I beat him up now?”
“What time is it?” Switzerland moaned.
“No no no, wait! I’ll show you why.” He slipped another slide in the projector, which showed the audience the same picture in close up, showing the little yellow bird perched on his head, “This is my birdie.”
Silence.
“The little shit has my fucking Awesome and I need to get it back, don’t you guys get it?”
“So it’s your ‘birdie’ that was lost, Prussia?” France said,
“Dude, the birdie has my Awesome and I need to get the birdie back to get my Awesome back. It’s the whole logic behind it all.” he nodded, “Ah- I knew all your little minds would have trouble understanding my Semi-Awesome logic, as I am not Awesome enough to explain it all in one go like I did before. So!” He slipped another slide in, this time showing a graph of some sort, “I prepared graphs and tables to clearly show the reason behind it all.”
“Graphs?” Germany muttered.
“The graph over here shows that in order for me to become Awesome again, I need to do this…” Prussia stretched out an arm and waved his stick to what seemed for the others a totally random number, “The graphs. They demand me to do it!”
He slipped in another slide which showed a chart that had ‘Birdie’, ‘Me’, and ‘Awesome’ written over the bars, “Right. Yep. There. Right there!” he pointed the stick at something in the chart that had the other nations peering in closer to try and see what Prussia was fussing was about, “The bar to the right’s higher than the bar to the left here, Formerly Awesome Me, which is why the number from the earlier graph coincides with the bars.” Everybody looked at him, their faces lost, while some glared livid at Germany who was trying to sink under the table without making too much noise,
“Therefore, the chart shows that only those who are an inch lesser of an Awesome as Formerly Awesome Me is only worthy to help me find my Awesome! In this case I need people who fit such qualifications to assist me in getting my awesome back.” He puffed his chest proudly.
“How does it show that-aru?” China asked.
“The bar with my name has this number thingie -” He pointed at a number, “And it’s bigger than the other number.”
Germany smacked a hand on his forehead and growled under his breath.
“Your ‘logic’ or whatever sounds like something from a bloody fairy tale.” England said.
“I read some King guy and the holy grail or whatever. They had these awesome swords, but that guy with the ring is a fucktard. Anyway,” Prussia jumped on the meeting table and did a confident pose. Everybody thought that they heard a song play in the background somewhere, “I - THE FORMERLY AWESOME PRU~SSIA - “ he paused for effect and let the mysterious trumpets fade out with tenor, “Have decided to hand pick those who are as Awesome, but not as AWESOME Awesome, as the Formerly Awesome ME, to help me in my Mission in search of my AWESOME.”
“Oh god.” England moaned, following the rest of the nations who sighed in distress and absolute misery.
“No need to fear, meeting table of loser nations, for with your help, the world will become complete when I have my AWESOME back.”
“According to your logic?” Germany said.
“AWESOME GENIUS LOGIC that, surprisingly, the FORMERLY AWESOME ME can still produce.”
Japan looked at his wristwatch, “He still has ten minutes left.”
Prussia swished and pointed his stick in England’s face with a triumphant smirk. The other had an exhausted, yet lethal, expression on his face, “You drink tea.” He pointed his stick to the nation next to him, who happened to be a sleeping Greece, “You threw that fucking cat at me. You? You have glasses on. You’re a soup nerd. You stink, and your economy stinks too. Your mole pisses me off…”
Denmark mock scoffed, “Wha~t? You guys’d take that from him? Or don’t you have enough ‘penis’ - I mean ‘pennies’ on you?”
Prussia snorted, “You’re totally getting raped later, dude.”
“I don’t think Texas makes me less awesome.” America said.
“Hey Canada? You’re awesome enough!”
“NO!” France jumped up from his seat and grabbed Canada in a tight hug, “NOT HIM ANYONE BUT HIM. MON DIEU!”
“What? What’s wrong with~?”
“U-um, France,” Canada said, “I’m fine helping him-”
“See?” France glared at Prussia with unshed tears in his eyes, “He does not want you to help him! Oh please, demon, leave us be!”
“Fine, sheesh~” Prussia backed away, and pointed his stick at the next person who happened to be Russia, “Fuck no.”
“Five more minutes, Prussia.” Germany said, eyes practically glued to the alarm clock.
“No. No. No. No, you’re creepy. Hell no, axe bastard, you’d just get me fucking drunk.” Prussia moved on and stared at an empty seat. He looked around and hummed, confused.
“Four minutes.”
“Hey, where’s cute Italy?”
Someone moaned in reply. Prussia's eyebrows knotted in confusion until he realized that, yes, he was on a table and the person who had just made the dubious noise was short and had his face flat on the table top as if it was the most comfortable pillow in the world, “He’s sleeping in the bathroom.” the nation's muffled voice said.
Prussia peered down closely at the sleeping nation who had just spoken and prodded his head carefully with a foot, “Hey~ you’re cute Italy’s brother, right?”
“I’m South. SOUTH Italy.” Romano rested his head on his chin and looked up at Prussia, puffing his cheeks in anger, “He’s North Italy, capische? He’s not the only Italy around here. Get it through your thick fucking skull." ooh- a spitfire, he thought, his eyes alight with both interest and curiosity at a thought that was gradually worming its way in his head, "And shit, can you get your foot out of my face? I’m trying to sleep.”
Prussia nodded to himself and murmured a rather stunned “… awesome.”
Okay, thinking time.
On one hand, his cute ‘North’ Italy wasn’t here, but his older brother ‘South’ Italy was.
Interesting. Really interesting.
“Three minutes…”
It wasn’t the same but it was quite close. They looked alike and his older brother seemed like a complete dick, too - bonus. Veneziano's endless energy was awesome, but he also liked how this guy ticked. On the other hand, he could just disregard the fucking rules and throw the clock at Germany’s head, but this guy seemed interesting. He hummed and looked around the room. Seriously, he only thought Canada and his cute little Veneziano were the awesome ones around the room. And it seems that Italy's older brother looked as interesting as both of them~ although he really didn't understand why he really thought pouty-face was Awesome.
Well, maybe it was because he liked the word ‘South’? Sounded dirty, and he liked everything and anything that was related to stuff that were - and went - ‘South’.
“OKAY." he gave him a thumbs up, "You’re in.”
“What the fuck? I said get your…” Romano paused. He sat fully erect and looked at Prussia square in the face. His face dared him to say otherwise, “Wait… what?”
Spain stood up from his seat in shock, “What?!”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Fuck yeah. You’re awesome.” Romano started and gaped at Prussia’s smirking face. For once in his life he didn’t have anything to say.
“Him?”
Romano snapped out of his daze and 'hmphd' in response, "Are you implying -" he woozily rose to stand up next to Spain and gave him a glare, the drowsiness almost gone from his face, “That I’m not awesome enough?”
“Of course not, Romano. I mean I do! I do think you’re awesome, but Prussia’s ‘mission’ seems kind of dangerous, don't you think?”
And who wouldn’t think that all this won't end in chaos? Even France had - in his overdramatic way - reacted to Prussia’s insane… whatever this was. And besides, the kind of trouble these two would get themselves tangled into was the primary worry for Spain. And for good reason. Romano might get hurt.
“Time’s up!” Germany moved to re-start the alarm much to the relief of Spain, “Moving on now.”
“Yeah?” Prussia chuckled at Germany’s declaration, “No it’s not.” Spain's face fell when Romano gave him a rebellious, winning grin.
“Okay.” Germany hid his face with his hands and just let it go. God knew he needed a break from Prussia’s… whatever this was.
England, however, begged to differ, “What the bloody hell is this a soap? Move along!”
“Ssh…” America put a hand on England’s shoulder while the other nations shushed him to a shocked silence, engrossed in all the drama unfolding before them, “I wanna see what happens.” he said, an underlying interest clear in his voice.
“He’s in.” Prussia said, “I wanted at least two more guys, fucktard, but this guy’s Awesome enough.” He laughed, amused, at Romano’s stumped expression, “And it’s not like I’m gonna eat him alive or something. That'd be like cannibalism.”
At this declaration, Spain sighed and frowned. Maybe if he gave him a chance it wouldn’t be so bad… Oh my god, this was Prussia he was talking about. Of course he’d get hurt. Or worse. What was he thinking?
Spain flailed, “Now wait just a minute here!” he said, “This is crazy, Romano - if I know Prussia he’d get you running naked across a plaza.”
“Stop treating me like I’m a fucking kid, Spain bastard." An underlying blush spread across Romano’s cheek, "And didn’t you tell me that happened to you once after you came home crying about your stupid 'lost innocence'? Are you saying that I’m not GOOD enough to handle shit like you?”
“Yeah, he’s not a fucking kid anymore, Spain bastard.” Prussia piped in, poking a finger against Spain’s cheek.
“You think that I’d be useless, don’t you? That I won’t find that stupid bird?”
“Yeah, that he won’t find the stupid bird.”
“Oh wait, you still think I’m a fucking kid, right? You dipstick.” Romano took a step closer to Spain, “Well guess what~ I’m not a kid anymore and I’ll do whatever the hell I want whenever I want and I'll show you all how much of an… an…”
“… an Awesome hunter?” Prussia offered.
“That’s right! I'm an Awesome fucking hunter.”
Spain stared at both of them with a wibbling sniffle, and seemed defeated once he gave a longer glance at Romano’s determined expression, with his mouth set in a thin line, wide eyes twitching, and his cheeks flushed red with rage. How could he resist? “Okay.”
He’ll give, he thought. He'll give this time. He looked at the bright side. Maybe Prussia could teach him a thing or two about... ? Oh dios.
“But Prussia?” Spain blinked tears in his eyes and pulled down Prussia’s collar with his shaking hands so that their faces were only inches apart, “Promise that he won’t get hurt…? Promise me…” he sobbed, “That Romano would be fine… after this… promise me?” he squeaked.
Romano wrinkled his nose and leaned away from Spain while Prussia opted to just pull his face back.
"You’re even worse than France, man. We're just going on a bit of Awesome bird hunting. What's so bad about that.”, Prussia scoffed.
“Ugh,” Romano gave Spain a similar face with an added dab of embarrassment that made him look redder than a ripe tomato, “You’re such a fucking drama queen.”
They both looked rather comical with similar freaked out expressions set on their faces. Ones that eluded Spain, of course.
“Oh you guys ~”
... Of which he gave both of them a nice, tight hug. Behind him, however, both Prussia and Romano’s face mirrored extreme humiliation (and fear, in Romano's case, now that his tough guy image was under threat). Romano started struggling from Spain's bear hug and growled.
In the background England blew his nose in his blue handkerchief and peered around at some of the nations, who were also busy with dabbing tears off their cheeks, with heavy eyelids, “I’m not crying.” He sobbed, “It’s the allergies. The allergies I tell you.”
“This is just like one of my favorite Korean novellas.” South Korea said, “And next thing you know Prussia’s evil rich stepmother would try and tear their love apart.”
“… what-aru?”
A/N: ..... okay. i'll just go now :D Any mistakes? Please point them out, for I am sleepy~ and stuff....
*runs away*
Edited! D: (again for the second time xD)
Edited! DD: so much.
Edited again :| I'm not bolding it this time *sneaks away before a flurry of violence threatens her vital regions*
And today was an important day for Prussia. He could feel the day’s importance throb on his toes as he marched from the elevator to the impossibly clean hallway of the venue, feet hitting the maroon carpeted floors with dull thuds as he smelt the disgusting scent of ‘new and clean lemony fresh’ everywhere. He reached a wide, chestnut two-part door and swiped his hands down his blue uniform with finality.
He was going to take the floor in this year’s summit meeting.
… or hell, now that they had ‘policies’ added in. Germany’s idea.
Surprise surprise.
That was another reason why he came to the meeting late in the first place.
The story was that Germany had managed to organise a strict set of rules before last year’s summit had commenced, in hopes that it would lessen the violence and increase the meeting’s productivity. The idea was surprisingly met with massive votes of agreement. The rules were virtually: no hitting, punching, or anything related to violence in general; no illicit or sexual escapades before (after that one time when they entered the meeting room and saw Estonia with his pants down) or during the meeting; and so on and so forth. Although after a whole day of attending the meet sans violence, everyone - except Germany - thought it was more like killing themselves through car fume suicide. Germany even brought a large jar with ‘Summit Offense Pennies' written on it with red permanent marker. Unfortunately for them, the blond nation was right about the 'increase of productivity part'.
The summit without their brawls, their violence, guns, swords, using shoes as projectiles to another person’s crotch, and verbal tongue lashing was not a meeting fit for Prussia’s amusement, too. In fact, in last year's meeting, the precise time when everybody was about to wail in distraught was exactly the time when Prussia had snuck out to freedom and left the poor saps back in the meeting room... one of the upsides of not really being a single dominating nation any more. But since his Awesome (it deserved a capital letter) had been missing for three days already, he was willing to make sacrifices. Including attend today’s summit.
So he came in late, which he felt would save the pain of immense, ungodly boredom.
Indeed, Prussia was very glad that the summit had been due a couple of days after he had lost his Awesome. Boring or not, the meeting was a perfect method to reach all the world nations without having to run around the globe in order to solve this unfortunate crisis (because the world without his Awesome was obviously not a better world, of course). Plus the whole 'taking the floor this year' wasn’t entirely a lose-lose kind of thing, and he’d be able to stir some trouble in the process. Not to mention his mere presence would bring a bit of life in the whole room.
Prussia stealthily pushed open the door and peered through the small slit, welcomed by the sight of at least eleven or so nations asleep on their faces, England biting his pencil almost in half, and America talking about…
“… glass domes over continents!” he proclaimed in his usual boisterous manner, “And then we’d sink all the land under the sea to know what mermaids feel like. Won’t that be cool?”
England gave a heavy sigh, “And how does this help our current economic crisis?”
“Aah- I expected you to ask that,” America said knowingly, shaking a finger at England's direction, “We’d get to see you wear that mermaid costume I bought in Disneyland. Take pictures and sell them for money and stuff.”
“Oh please,” France said, “I think it would be better if he wore nothing at all.”
“Why you-”
The alarm next to Germany gave a shrill ring, and everyone who was not snoring sighed in relief. England threw a boot in America’s direction and hit him square on the head, skewing Texas on his face, “Time’s up, wanker.”
“But it’s only been three minutes!”
England ignored him and turned to Germany, “It’s your turn to take the floor, Germany, and no America - I will not wear your bloody mermaid tailfins and put corals in my hair.”
Prussia snorted in amusement but still remained unseen so far.
“I say we all vote for it.” France said, “I vote ‘Oui’~ for England to wear those scrumptious seashell bras only.”
Prussia slammed a fist on the door and forced it open with a bang, singing out a joyful whoop before England threw another fistfight and make him wait longer, “FUCK YEAH!” He was glad that at least some of the people around the table jumped up in attention of the Formerly Awesome Him, “Witness me, Prussia, take center stage and beat your sad presentations to the GROUND!”
Austria bowled over Prussia’s presence and gaped at his professional leather suitcase when he spotted the thing swinging at the albino's side like a battleaxe, “What is he doing here?” he asked, “Germany, what’s going on?”
“Ah-hurm.” Germany looked at the rest of the nations who had thus quieted down to hear his explanation. For a while Prussia thought he looked as if he had just swallowed a fly, “For the sake of - well, Prussia is going to take my place in this meeting.”
“Damn straight. What did you do to give them sad, pathetic faces, Germany, kill a puppy?” Germany groaned in reply, powerless over the situation. He had a very good excuse not to exercise his rigid standards, though: being stuck with his brother who almost got ran over by a truck after he thought the sticker behind its side mirror was his little yellow bird would do that to someone. It didn’t help that he had happened across Germany’s collection of BDSM magazines when he thought the bird had been hiding in his room. Awkward. Especially since Prussia proposed that he and Germany perform a threesome with Feliciano like those four guys in this one page.
Very, very awkward for him indeed.
Prussia stormed toward the podium, his head raised proud despite having lost his Awesome, and he managed to walk in quick successive strides, even with his impressive looking - obviously heavy - suitcase. He glanced briefly at Spain who looked as if he was about to explode from enthusiasm, Russia bastard was smiling at him (the freak), Austria looked as if he was about to cry (with dignity), Germany was oddly not looking at him and was staring at the table like a guilty little boy, while the French bastard looked both amused and excited at the same time. So far so good. Even without his Awesome, people were still dazzled by his Semi-Awesomeness.
“Everybody in this fucking room, I want you all to listen to the Formerly Awesome ME.”
Austria sat up in attention from his slumped pose and blinked, “Did I just hear wrong or did he just say ‘formerly awesome me’?” he said, his face blank with shock.
Prussia snapped open his suitcase and looked at Austria, “Why yes I did, moron.” he gave him a wide smile and threw some projector slides haphazardly on the lower table next to the podium and the projector, “Glad you noticed, as I have, indeed, lost my Awesome. Horrible, right?”
Silence permeated throughout the meeting room. At least ten to eleven nations were heard snoring in the background.
“But don’t worry - I will grace you all with my Awesome Awesomeness once you help me find it. So every loser in this fucking room pay attention please.”
“How can you ‘lose’ your awesome?” America tilted his head to the side.
“I think that he’s suffering a mid-life crisis.” England said.
“I think he just needs a right hit on the head with my pan~”
Switzerland made a disgruntled sound and began loading one of his shotguns, “I say we shoot him in the head and see what happens.”
“No, brother, please don’t… we don’t have anymore pennies.”
“Hmph.”
“He’s just…” Germany gulped, looking at all the accusing glares in his direction, “Going through a phase in his life.” Germany said his face down and guilty.
Prussia ignored the ruckus, his mind focused only on one thing (for once), and took out a pile of papers under another set of projector slides in his suitcase. He marched toward the large meeting table and began passing it around with a skip in his step, “These flyers contain the link to my blog account so that you’d know where to message the Formerly Awesome Me, and a picture of my Awesome.” He said, “I worked hard on that, y’know? All night yesterday! I was-”
“Um,” Spain turned the flyer Prussia had just given him sideways and underways in confusion, “Prussia, the flyer just has a picture of you.”
“Yeah, isn’t that awesome? Now you have a picture of my former Awesome for your viewing pleasure.”
Everybody groaned.
“Germany,” Austria said, “This is all your fault.”
“This is ridiculous.” England muttered. He crumpled his flyer and threw it behind his back with a huff.
Prussia ignored the rest of the room’s inquiring gaze and leisurely walked back to the podium. He set his attention on the projector and slipped the first slide in, and proudly showed the same picture from the flyers he had just given out: a photo of himself, posing with a grin and a middle finger, “That was me with me Awesome, see? See the difference?” he pointed to his own face and grinned.
He slipped in another slide of him completely drunk off his head, slumped over a table drooling, “Here’s another picture of my Awesome and Awesome me.”
“Holy shit, I remember that night!” Denmark quipped, who had suddenly sat up awake from his nap, “That waitress was a fucking hottie, eh?”
“Fuck no. Maybe for you, but she reminded me of big brows here…”
“Nyahahah~”
England snapped his pencil in half in silent rage, “Can I break at least one rule, Germany?”
“Rules are rules.”
“Yeah, rules are rules, Eng-land.” The Dane stuck his tongue out at England. England, however, didn’t hesitate to throw his broken pencil at the Dane’s spiky head. He then took a penny from his jacket pocket and let it slide over the glossy table towards Germany, who mechanically slipped it in the offense jar with a blank face that looked as if he’d been doing this all morning.
Prussia slipped in another slide which, much to the rest of the nations’ relief, was the first picture he had showed them of himself. He slid out a thin black stick from his suitcase and whacked it on the table hard to gather his audience’s dwindling attention, “See that, audience? I was so Awesome that time, but compared to myself now it’s obvious that I’m only half as Awesome than I used to be. Now why’s that, mm?”
Hungary nodded, “Okay. Can I beat him up now?”
“What time is it?” Switzerland moaned.
“No no no, wait! I’ll show you why.” He slipped another slide in the projector, which showed the audience the same picture in close up, showing the little yellow bird perched on his head, “This is my birdie.”
Silence.
“The little shit has my fucking Awesome and I need to get it back, don’t you guys get it?”
“So it’s your ‘birdie’ that was lost, Prussia?” France said,
“Dude, the birdie has my Awesome and I need to get the birdie back to get my Awesome back. It’s the whole logic behind it all.” he nodded, “Ah- I knew all your little minds would have trouble understanding my Semi-Awesome logic, as I am not Awesome enough to explain it all in one go like I did before. So!” He slipped another slide in, this time showing a graph of some sort, “I prepared graphs and tables to clearly show the reason behind it all.”
“Graphs?” Germany muttered.
“The graph over here shows that in order for me to become Awesome again, I need to do this…” Prussia stretched out an arm and waved his stick to what seemed for the others a totally random number, “The graphs. They demand me to do it!”
He slipped in another slide which showed a chart that had ‘Birdie’, ‘Me’, and ‘Awesome’ written over the bars, “Right. Yep. There. Right there!” he pointed the stick at something in the chart that had the other nations peering in closer to try and see what Prussia was fussing was about, “The bar to the right’s higher than the bar to the left here, Formerly Awesome Me, which is why the number from the earlier graph coincides with the bars.” Everybody looked at him, their faces lost, while some glared livid at Germany who was trying to sink under the table without making too much noise,
“Therefore, the chart shows that only those who are an inch lesser of an Awesome as Formerly Awesome Me is only worthy to help me find my Awesome! In this case I need people who fit such qualifications to assist me in getting my awesome back.” He puffed his chest proudly.
“How does it show that-aru?” China asked.
“The bar with my name has this number thingie -” He pointed at a number, “And it’s bigger than the other number.”
Germany smacked a hand on his forehead and growled under his breath.
“Your ‘logic’ or whatever sounds like something from a bloody fairy tale.” England said.
“I read some King guy and the holy grail or whatever. They had these awesome swords, but that guy with the ring is a fucktard. Anyway,” Prussia jumped on the meeting table and did a confident pose. Everybody thought that they heard a song play in the background somewhere, “I - THE FORMERLY AWESOME PRU~SSIA - “ he paused for effect and let the mysterious trumpets fade out with tenor, “Have decided to hand pick those who are as Awesome, but not as AWESOME Awesome, as the Formerly Awesome ME, to help me in my Mission in search of my AWESOME.”
“Oh god.” England moaned, following the rest of the nations who sighed in distress and absolute misery.
“No need to fear, meeting table of loser nations, for with your help, the world will become complete when I have my AWESOME back.”
“According to your logic?” Germany said.
“AWESOME GENIUS LOGIC that, surprisingly, the FORMERLY AWESOME ME can still produce.”
Japan looked at his wristwatch, “He still has ten minutes left.”
Prussia swished and pointed his stick in England’s face with a triumphant smirk. The other had an exhausted, yet lethal, expression on his face, “You drink tea.” He pointed his stick to the nation next to him, who happened to be a sleeping Greece, “You threw that fucking cat at me. You? You have glasses on. You’re a soup nerd. You stink, and your economy stinks too. Your mole pisses me off…”
Denmark mock scoffed, “Wha~t? You guys’d take that from him? Or don’t you have enough ‘penis’ - I mean ‘pennies’ on you?”
Prussia snorted, “You’re totally getting raped later, dude.”
“I don’t think Texas makes me less awesome.” America said.
“Hey Canada? You’re awesome enough!”
“NO!” France jumped up from his seat and grabbed Canada in a tight hug, “NOT HIM ANYONE BUT HIM. MON DIEU!”
“What? What’s wrong with~?”
“U-um, France,” Canada said, “I’m fine helping him-”
“See?” France glared at Prussia with unshed tears in his eyes, “He does not want you to help him! Oh please, demon, leave us be!”
“Fine, sheesh~” Prussia backed away, and pointed his stick at the next person who happened to be Russia, “Fuck no.”
“Five more minutes, Prussia.” Germany said, eyes practically glued to the alarm clock.
“No. No. No. No, you’re creepy. Hell no, axe bastard, you’d just get me fucking drunk.” Prussia moved on and stared at an empty seat. He looked around and hummed, confused.
“Four minutes.”
“Hey, where’s cute Italy?”
Someone moaned in reply. Prussia's eyebrows knotted in confusion until he realized that, yes, he was on a table and the person who had just made the dubious noise was short and had his face flat on the table top as if it was the most comfortable pillow in the world, “He’s sleeping in the bathroom.” the nation's muffled voice said.
Prussia peered down closely at the sleeping nation who had just spoken and prodded his head carefully with a foot, “Hey~ you’re cute Italy’s brother, right?”
“I’m South. SOUTH Italy.” Romano rested his head on his chin and looked up at Prussia, puffing his cheeks in anger, “He’s North Italy, capische? He’s not the only Italy around here. Get it through your thick fucking skull." ooh- a spitfire, he thought, his eyes alight with both interest and curiosity at a thought that was gradually worming its way in his head, "And shit, can you get your foot out of my face? I’m trying to sleep.”
Prussia nodded to himself and murmured a rather stunned “… awesome.”
Okay, thinking time.
On one hand, his cute ‘North’ Italy wasn’t here, but his older brother ‘South’ Italy was.
Interesting. Really interesting.
“Three minutes…”
It wasn’t the same but it was quite close. They looked alike and his older brother seemed like a complete dick, too - bonus. Veneziano's endless energy was awesome, but he also liked how this guy ticked. On the other hand, he could just disregard the fucking rules and throw the clock at Germany’s head, but this guy seemed interesting. He hummed and looked around the room. Seriously, he only thought Canada and his cute little Veneziano were the awesome ones around the room. And it seems that Italy's older brother looked as interesting as both of them~ although he really didn't understand why he really thought pouty-face was Awesome.
Well, maybe it was because he liked the word ‘South’? Sounded dirty, and he liked everything and anything that was related to stuff that were - and went - ‘South’.
“OKAY." he gave him a thumbs up, "You’re in.”
“What the fuck? I said get your…” Romano paused. He sat fully erect and looked at Prussia square in the face. His face dared him to say otherwise, “Wait… what?”
Spain stood up from his seat in shock, “What?!”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Fuck yeah. You’re awesome.” Romano started and gaped at Prussia’s smirking face. For once in his life he didn’t have anything to say.
“Him?”
Romano snapped out of his daze and 'hmphd' in response, "Are you implying -" he woozily rose to stand up next to Spain and gave him a glare, the drowsiness almost gone from his face, “That I’m not awesome enough?”
“Of course not, Romano. I mean I do! I do think you’re awesome, but Prussia’s ‘mission’ seems kind of dangerous, don't you think?”
And who wouldn’t think that all this won't end in chaos? Even France had - in his overdramatic way - reacted to Prussia’s insane… whatever this was. And besides, the kind of trouble these two would get themselves tangled into was the primary worry for Spain. And for good reason. Romano might get hurt.
“Time’s up!” Germany moved to re-start the alarm much to the relief of Spain, “Moving on now.”
“Yeah?” Prussia chuckled at Germany’s declaration, “No it’s not.” Spain's face fell when Romano gave him a rebellious, winning grin.
“Okay.” Germany hid his face with his hands and just let it go. God knew he needed a break from Prussia’s… whatever this was.
England, however, begged to differ, “What the bloody hell is this a soap? Move along!”
“Ssh…” America put a hand on England’s shoulder while the other nations shushed him to a shocked silence, engrossed in all the drama unfolding before them, “I wanna see what happens.” he said, an underlying interest clear in his voice.
“He’s in.” Prussia said, “I wanted at least two more guys, fucktard, but this guy’s Awesome enough.” He laughed, amused, at Romano’s stumped expression, “And it’s not like I’m gonna eat him alive or something. That'd be like cannibalism.”
At this declaration, Spain sighed and frowned. Maybe if he gave him a chance it wouldn’t be so bad… Oh my god, this was Prussia he was talking about. Of course he’d get hurt. Or worse. What was he thinking?
Spain flailed, “Now wait just a minute here!” he said, “This is crazy, Romano - if I know Prussia he’d get you running naked across a plaza.”
“Stop treating me like I’m a fucking kid, Spain bastard." An underlying blush spread across Romano’s cheek, "And didn’t you tell me that happened to you once after you came home crying about your stupid 'lost innocence'? Are you saying that I’m not GOOD enough to handle shit like you?”
“Yeah, he’s not a fucking kid anymore, Spain bastard.” Prussia piped in, poking a finger against Spain’s cheek.
“You think that I’d be useless, don’t you? That I won’t find that stupid bird?”
“Yeah, that he won’t find the stupid bird.”
“Oh wait, you still think I’m a fucking kid, right? You dipstick.” Romano took a step closer to Spain, “Well guess what~ I’m not a kid anymore and I’ll do whatever the hell I want whenever I want and I'll show you all how much of an… an…”
“… an Awesome hunter?” Prussia offered.
“That’s right! I'm an Awesome fucking hunter.”
Spain stared at both of them with a wibbling sniffle, and seemed defeated once he gave a longer glance at Romano’s determined expression, with his mouth set in a thin line, wide eyes twitching, and his cheeks flushed red with rage. How could he resist? “Okay.”
He’ll give, he thought. He'll give this time. He looked at the bright side. Maybe Prussia could teach him a thing or two about... ? Oh dios.
“But Prussia?” Spain blinked tears in his eyes and pulled down Prussia’s collar with his shaking hands so that their faces were only inches apart, “Promise that he won’t get hurt…? Promise me…” he sobbed, “That Romano would be fine… after this… promise me?” he squeaked.
Romano wrinkled his nose and leaned away from Spain while Prussia opted to just pull his face back.
"You’re even worse than France, man. We're just going on a bit of Awesome bird hunting. What's so bad about that.”, Prussia scoffed.
“Ugh,” Romano gave Spain a similar face with an added dab of embarrassment that made him look redder than a ripe tomato, “You’re such a fucking drama queen.”
They both looked rather comical with similar freaked out expressions set on their faces. Ones that eluded Spain, of course.
“Oh you guys ~”
... Of which he gave both of them a nice, tight hug. Behind him, however, both Prussia and Romano’s face mirrored extreme humiliation (and fear, in Romano's case, now that his tough guy image was under threat). Romano started struggling from Spain's bear hug and growled.
In the background England blew his nose in his blue handkerchief and peered around at some of the nations, who were also busy with dabbing tears off their cheeks, with heavy eyelids, “I’m not crying.” He sobbed, “It’s the allergies. The allergies I tell you.”
“This is just like one of my favorite Korean novellas.” South Korea said, “And next thing you know Prussia’s evil rich stepmother would try and tear their love apart.”
“… what-aru?”
A/N: ..... okay. i'll just go now :D Any mistakes? Please point them out, for I am sleepy~ and stuff....
*runs away*
Edited! D: (again for the second time xD)
Edited! DD: so much.
Edited again :| I'm not bolding it this time *sneaks away before a flurry of violence threatens her vital regions*