No idea how well this is going to go. Humor me plz. OTL

[rosatudoris]

[England stumbles in backwards through a door, as if he was arguing with someone.]

No, Antonio, I told you, I-...! H-huh...?

[He freezes, having suddenly taken notice of his changed surroundings with an alarmed look on his face and starts fiddling nervously with the rosary he's carrying.]

Where... A-Antonio?

[He'd actually be greatful to

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[misterunionjack]

God, I should be in bed, [he says to himself, a laptop under his arm, a binder of discs in his free hand. England's expression goes from self-discontent to mild curiosity when he notices the younger nation.] You all right there, chap? You look a trifle lost.

[rosatudoris]

[He looks up at the voice, his eyes widening in shock as he half-stumbles backwards, being stopped from falling only for the fact that there was a wall behind him.] Oh my Lord...! [And he probably shouldn't have said that, but he was surprised, and hopefully the Lord won't hold a grudge. H-he'll go to confession about it later. His eyes shift in thought, trying to justify... He can't really be... That man, it was just like looking in a mirror. ...This had to be a dream or something then, right...?]

[misterunionjack]

[England frowns in concern at this, stopping just feet away.] Steady there, Arthur Kirkland. You haven't been here long, from the looks of it-- You're in a building called Headquarters -- and for the moment, you're someplace safe. Would you like a cup of tea?

[rosatudoris]

...!! [And he knows his name...! What in the world?! He starts fidgeting with the rosary beads again, looks off down the corrior, at the floor, anywhere, anywhere but that strange all-too-familiar face. He shakes his head, murmuring.] Y-you're not me... You can't be... This, this is just a dream, I-... [His fingers fix on one of the smaller beads near the top of the rosary and he clasps it, bowing his head and mumbling softly as he tries to stop his already preoccupied mind from racing any further.] Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum...

[misterunionjack]

[Seeing himself in such a state makes his blood boil. He wasn't weak and he was destined for greater things -- Unthinking, England stands right in front of his younger self.] Look at me, man. Where is your pride as a representative of the English people? Look me in the eye. Show me you're worthy of being called England!

FML, I don't have an angry icon yet. =/)=

[rosatudoris]

[He almost half ignores him, continuing on with his prayer though the words pile up one on top of another. Pride, his people...! The name was the last straw. His name, it was supposed to be, but he can't stop himself from questioning, eyes glaring upwards at the other with a momentary spark of...anger? Well, not quite. It was really too unstable to be called that.] What is England?! What do I have?! What am I supposed to fight with! I can't fight, I'll- [The shouts brought on another string of coughs, the Nation almost doubling over with the strength of them. But even though he couldn't speak, that didn't stop the argument from mulling over in his head. His country was all but broke, the people were on the edge of rioting because of their displeasure with Mary, which only made her attempts to try and return Papal authority to the land even worse, and now Spain was trying to...'convince' him to help in his fights against France. And on top of that this mirror image of himself was trying to tell him to look worthy of his title?! The

S'alright. Your prose more than makes up for it.

[misterunionjack]

You will fight. You will survive! You-- [England grits his teeth, expression pained as he watches his younger self collapse. He wants to look away, to be hypocritical. Old memories-- whether they were from the same time period didn't matter-- threatened to overwhelm him. He's shaking, but he remains standing. His voice gentles considerably.] You won't die, Arthur. I'm living proof that you -- won't -- die. [He takes a breath.] So chin up. Give me your hand. Let's get you something to drink.

A-aw, thanks. =///= I'm just hoping people aren't giving me strange looks for this. OTL

[rosatudoris]

[The coughs die down, but his emotion doesn't. He glances down at the hand he was coughing into, a few light specks of red across his palm. That happened sometimes, if it was especially bad. In his left hand, he still clutched the rosary like a child's saftey blanket. He glared up at the other, confusion still mixed in his eyes.] Who are you, anyway?! And why do you have my face?! How do I know you aren't just going to turn around and hit me?! Or-...O-or...!! [The anger deteriorates at whatever thought he just had, exposing an irrational fear for something even the Nation couldn't bring himself to express. It was just too close. He bowed his head, clasping, almost wringing the rosary now with both hands, close to his chest, as his bangs fell to shadow his tear-flecked eyes.] Just go away, please!

[misterunionjack]

[Slowly and firmly, he states:] I will not -- go away. And it's foolish to expect me to. [He's calmer now, but his gut still aches.] Why would I hit you? What would it accomplish? Nothing but our own death and the dissolution of the British Empire! I'm rather keen on our continued existence, lad, and if I have to force you to have a cup of tea with me, I will. Because we're the same nation, and I cannot-- I absolutely cannot stand seeing you like this.

[rosatudoris]

[He flinches at the firm voice, as if expecting something to follow, but it doesn't. He still keeps his head bowed, fiddling with the rosary at the words, turning them over in his mind as he tries to understand...] What do you mean, we're the same nation...? I'm... [And how he afraid of saying something to further upset the other, though it seems his very existance is doing a good enough job of that...]

[misterunionjack]

Me from when I was a teenager, from the looks of it, [he concludes, thinking the analogy apt,] and I'm you from when you're -- rather older. [This is where it backfires on him; stiffly, he states,] An 'old man', perhaps? The first brave contemporary soul to tell me so would be one unlucky nation.

IGGY IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT AN OLD MAN. /CHINA/ IS AN OLD MAN. ]<

[rosatudoris]

[He glances upwards for a moment, offering hesitantly.] You don't look that old... [His head lowers again. Though everything he's encountered up until now points to this being true...he's still reluctant to accept it. But he's afraid of his older self blowing up at him again, so...he won't really attempt to argue the point right now.]

China = Old Man x 10^6.

[misterunionjack]

[The older nation's cheeks turn a bit pink.] Of course not. How else would I keep up with you irresponsible twits? [A pause.] Well, not you. You look terrible. Honestly, you ought to go see yourself in a mirror-- not me, I don't count-- and Christ, you're acting like Matthew when I first met him. A quality of youth, I suppose -- [He clears his throat.] You do look terrible, and I mean it. Either we go to the tea, or the tea -- comes to you. You won't escape from it, lad.

China = Old man > 9000

[rosatudoris]

[Flinches at the twits comment, but relaxes a bit when the other explains, though not for long. It almost irritates him a bit to have his current weakness pointed out so blatantly-- He is still England, after all. At least that stubborness has remained somewhat. He cringes at the curse, probably more than anything, but simply slumps against the wall as the other pauses, seeming the most put out that he's appeared to have disappointed his future self. Though it's not as if he could help it...]

Ah, it's up to you... [He's perfectly content to just shrink back into the wall right now and disappear, thank you, if the other is just going to keep looking down on him like that.]

China ≥ 0.009001 ?? ... orz It's late and I have a calculator. Bad combination.

[misterunionjack]

Looks like you're not going anywhere, eh? [All right. To business.] Well then, I'll drop these off someplace safe and come back with nice hot cuppa. Sit tight. [And he goes without a second glance back.]

Lol whut? XD I think you're thinking about that too much.

[rosatudoris]

[Makes no response, other than to fiddle with his rosary a bit. He debates whether or not he should stay or try and leave, but ends up concluding he'll probably get a good chewing out if he goes. That = do not want. The less conflict the better, thank you. So, he'll just kind of sit there, slumped against the wall, wondering what exactly he's supposed to do now that he's here...]