This log is fail. [Unfinished]
Who: Kurt, Russia, Latvia, America, and anyone else involved in the 'beating'.
Where In Kurt's room, first floor, room 10.
When: Right after receiving the 'heads up' from Austria.
Rating: THIS COULD GET UGLY.
Summary: Russia exists and is harassing one of America's citizens. In return, America will make sure Russia's nose stays broken.
the Story: ( Comin' again to save the mother fuckin' day! )
Where In Kurt's room, first floor, room 10.
When: Right after receiving the 'heads up' from Austria.
Rating: THIS COULD GET UGLY.
Summary: Russia exists and is harassing one of America's citizens. In return, America will make sure Russia's nose stays broken.
the Story: ( Comin' again to save the mother fuckin' day! )
Russia, meanwhile, is amused by the whole situation. He looks completely unperturbed by the gun. Russia loves death, he says 'bring it on'. He is a demon long dead with nothing else to lose.
"Funny, isn't it?" Nope, he's definitely not pulling Kurt in front of him to shield his vital regions, not at all. "There is a limited number of your citizens here, yet you feel none of the effects of young... Kurt, was it?"
He tilts his head forward, bangs follow forward to shadow his eyes. "It seems that if I want to hurt you, I will just have to be more direct."
In one swift motion, Russia grabs Kurt around the waists, picks him up--he's almost as light as Latvia!--and chucks the kid over his head. Oh, he totally knew the bed was behind him the whole time. Totally. He never would've done that if it hadn't, right?
Of course not.
Russia lifts his pipe, clutching it with both hands. "But who says I was trying to harm you in the first place, America? I only came to retrieve Latvia when your citizen got in the way. You really shouldn't be so indignant. If you and your citizens would not meddle in my affairs, this never would have happened."
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Normally, this would make babies cry. Maybe even hardened soldiers. Too bad America's like, the only fucking nation ever who isn't scared of Russia. Weirded out? Yeah, sure. Russia's pretty psycho.
America's eyes narrowed. No, he's not going to mention that. Then again, maybe it was something like Santa Claus? If you believed in him, he existed. Maybe his nations didn't believe in him hard enough?
Or maybe it's the mansion.
..Actually, his way sounds more correctable, so he'll go with that.
"Who says that I don't?" He lies, but he doesn't care. Russia's too stupid to tell he's lying anyway. He aims his gun, and very slowly squeezes the trigger...
Russia throwing Kurt completely catches him by surprise, and his eyes widen, taking a few steps forward. "Kurt!" He can't see the bed, as Russia's landmass is in the way. Fuck. He wants to make sure he's okay, but he can't leave Russia another opening to attack.
Considering how he doesn't hear the sound of a body hitting the floor, he returns his attention to Russia, raising his gun again, though keeping his eyes on the pipe. "Considering he's one of my citizens, he was trying to do the right thing and be a hero and keep Latvia from being picked on by such a shit head like you!" While he was bitching about England being gone. Oops.
"Maybe if you treated your 'slaves' like they were their own nations, we wouldn't have to resort to meddling!"
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Unfortunately, America, Wonderland doesn't function the same as Discworld. Anthropomorphic personifications can't be killed by a lack of belief. Besides, if belief in Russia were to cease, there would be extra belief floating around and then Death would have to play the role of Russia to save the world.
Let's think about that a moment: DEATH would have to play the role of Russia. To save the world.
...Strangely, things would probably be better that way. Oh well, too bad it will never be.
"Picked on? Poor Latvia was living in the hallway all alone when the accident occurred! I only mean to bring him to his proper room. And I do not credit your citizen with any amount of heroics."
Russia's eyes are fixed on America's. He hunches forward, prepared to make a run right for America the second he makes a move.
"They are better off as they are now." Which isn't a lie, in Russia's eyes. Sure, he might also be better off while he leeches off accepts the very fair payments from his 'friends', but they'll benefit from communism. Eventually.
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...that's kind of scary, actually. Would that mean Russia would play the role of Death? That's just messed up.
America snorts, as eloquent as always.
"All of my citizens are heroes!" He goes for the statement that matters the most, instead of the one where Latvia was in the hallway. Honestly? He didn't care know about that, as his problems > everyone else's. "You'd better acknowledge that!"
And America's going to stare right back. Though his finger's twitching near the trigger. He just wants to shoot Russia and get it over with. Plus, his fat arm's getting sore from holding the gun But damn, Kurt might get caught, or hit, or something, so he's hesitating.
He also refuses to let Russia get any advantage in whatsoever. So the staring contest continues.
"Pfft, oh please. Like you have any idea what's better for anyone. You can't even handle your own people!"
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The football players never used lead pipes. But the important thing is that he stood up for himself and didn't let anyone push him around when he stood up for what was right. He got the shit kicked out of him, but with pride. Dignity. Courage.
That said, there's nothing dignified about it when he clutches the places on his abdomen where he's been beaten and groans in pain.
"Ow."
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Pushing slowly, Latvia eased the door away from the closet from the inside. Eventually he succeeded and Latvia hesitated briefly before kicking the door open. The terrified kid took one glance at America and Russia then scurried over to the bed which Kurt laid upon.
"Kurt!"
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"You should go back to the closet, Latvia. It is not safe for you out here."
That wasn't a suggestion and just maybe a threat.
At present, Russia doesn't really have the time or patience to deal with Latvia, not with America's gun pointed at him. Besides, should Latvia foolishly run, he would have no trouble finding him again. It's so much easier to keep track of people in a small population.
Completely ignoring the hero comment because it's just absurd, Russia's eyes once again lock onto America's.
"I have no trouble handling my own people," he says pleasantly. "They're well-behaved and content under my guidance. It's rather silly for you of all countries to accuse me of such things."
The tension in his shoulders ease. Considering the circumstances, it's not a good thing. He stands upright, still clutching the pipe in both hands. "I hear your having some racial tensions, is that right? Riots as I hear it."
He tilts his head, giving America a strangely sympathetic smile. It's nearly impossible to tell whether it's genuine or mocking, and even then, there's no telling which would be more infuriating. "I am, after all, not the only one in the world with a 'Bloody Sunday'."
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Right.
"Don't worry, Latvia. He won't hurt you with me here."
Of course, true heroes entered fights regardless of personal gain. America only entered wars when the benefits were in his favor. Still, if Latvia is a friend of Kurt's, that means potential ally get. And he could always use more support.
His smirk is all cocky and arrogance as his attention shifts back to Russia and he watches him, almost daring him to make the first move. Heroes always attacked with retaliation.
"Pffft, yeah, okay." Now America will roll his eyes. "Do you ever actually listen to your people? Then maybe you could see how much they hate you." He wants to mention Anastasia, but.. well.. the fact that she said she died kinda kills that.
Then, Russia continues to ramble, and America's expression becomes a bit... confused. "What are you.."
His eyes widen, but only for a brief moment as realization hits, narrowing sharply behind Texas as the grip on his gun tightens. Probably not a good idea, as now it's shaking a little bit. Oh god, stuff he did not want to think about. His Civil War is a very touchy subject, okay.
The look Russia gives him doesn't help.
"Don't you ever compare me to you! And anyway that was a long time ago!"
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He begins to rock on his heels like a child. His smile drops, staring at the ceiling thoughtfully (careful to look for any signs of movement in his peripheral vision, of course)."I listened to my people, once upon a time. I learned that it only brings further pain. You are too young to realize this."
Russia's eyes snap back to America's, expression curious. "You hate me for many reasons, and I, you. Perhaps though, you also hate me most because I have control while your people speak out how much they hate you or run to Canada. My people love me, and if they don't, they will. I make sure of that. You should see them crowd at the speakers, waiting to hear my leaders speak. When my comrades are foolish, I put them in the place and all is well again."
HAHAHA FUCK YOU CZECHOSLOVAKIA. Then, the mun remembers she is Czech, and then is sad again. It's okay though, we get a festival in Nebraska.
Russia's lips quirk into a ghost of a smile. "You hunger for control."
Never mind that the whole reason America is here is because Russia just beat the crap out of his citizen. Here, let's see if Russia can distract America from that fact with rambling and a sketchy icon.
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He stayed by Kurt's side, cautiously peering at the other two blond nations from time to time out of the corner of his eyes. Latvia was not a fool when it came to the possible outbreak of a war and knew better than to get in the line of fire between two nations, at least if he could help it. However, it wasn't his safety he was concerned about, it was Kurt's well-being.
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America grits his teeth, gripping his gun tighter, willing it not to shake. No, he isn't scared of Russia. A hero isn't scared of anything. But a weird feeling grips at his chest, and he's not paying enough attention to fully understand it.
He panics inwardly, as he thinks of his people, split down the middle in public opinion, as they had been since they earned the right to vote, which was from the very beginning.
He also panics because his thinking process leads to fuck, Russia knows about the current depression (no, not another depression, it's a slump, ignore the media and it's lies) his people are in and how they're hurting and-
No. No, that's impossible. There's no way. He has to remind himself this. Russia is from the Cold War. His mindset isn't as advanced as America is.
Of course, the pinko keeps talking. Keeps rambling. And if he wasn't already trying to forget the problems, selfishly, of his people, he wouldn't have been effected. He had been tormented before his arrival into Wonderland, worrying and stressing over research and ways to help his people while being entirely unable to do so, leaving complete blinding faith in a young new boss whose grin sparkled like the sun more than America's did, and promised a better tomorrow with the simple words 'yes, we can!'.
America had waited for tomorrow, and tomorrow came and went and came and went, and he hated being sick, he just wanted everything to be over and-
A bullet fires as the trigger was pressed fully, embedding itself deep into the wall about a foot from Russia's head. America's so busy trying to keep himself breathing and focused on not screaming anything that would make him look foolish, that the gun going off momentarily startled him.
He recovers quickly and grins again, though it is off from it's usual luster, slightly strained.
"Oh, it's only 'not so long' for you because you're an old dinosaur, right?" He quips, determined to not let Russia know his words are affecting him. They're lies. Evil, propaganda induced lies.
"I gave my people the right to do as they wished since the very beginning! And it works. If we didn't speak our minds, we'd still be under England!" He laughs. "Humans are always going to disagree. That's what they do. And stop comparing me to a fucking colony; I've accomplished more in my 233 years of living on my own than you have in your entire existence! That is why you can't stand me. That someone as young as I am can stand up to your communist bull shit."
The smile fades.
"I have control." He states flatly. "I always had it. And so what if they go to Canada's house? There's a reason why I haven't put a wall up dividing us or anything. I actually like my neighbors, and he likes me." Not talking about Mexico. Because seriously, even if there was a wall, it wouldn't keep anyone out.
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Distantly, he notices that Latvia isn't back in the closet, yet he does nothing. In all fairness, Russia had tried to keep him safe. It wouldn't be his fault if Latvia is hurt. It's also just a happy coincidence that maybe getting hurt would teach the smaller nation a lesson about following orders.
Russia taps his chin thoughtfully, but his smile doesn't slip. He refuses to lose ground now and actually get emotional over America's words. Not when he has America on edge.
"Yes, it's rather irritating that you've grown so fast. Though it's ironic that you should say that you have control!"
He giggles, drawing his own gun--a Saiga shotgun (which can totally fit under his big ol' coat)--holding it casually at his side.
"England always insisted he had control over you. I would sometimes wonder, at the end of the Seven Years War, just how much of his love for you was geared towards funding his troops. You should hope your version of 'control' does not run in the family!"
He steps left, walking in a slow circle around America. "You say that your type of democracy works. Why is it, then, that there are so many people are leaving you for your involvement with Vietnam? Why does the inequalities of your society drive people to commit atrocities and revolt?"
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He has to stay focused. One shot. One. Single. Shot. It's all he needs, really.
And then.. and then Russia has to talk about England, and America's free hand tightens into a fist. What a touchy subject for Russia to touch upon. Douche bag.
"Fuck you." He hisses through his teeth. "Leave England out of this. What he does is none of my concern!" Of course it is his concern. It's always his concern. He's angry, more than anything, and he hates Russia so much more now, and that's pretty much consumed every thought in his head.
Well, that and how to get him to shut the fuck up.
He keeps his eyes on Russia as he starts circling, swallowing hard to try to quell the feelings of being boxed in. No, couldn't be boxed in. He's the mother fucking United States of America. No communist shit head could ever change that!
"Vietnam was a police action!" He snaps, god damn everyone calling it a war. He didn't lose wars. He never lost a war. "It doesn't count! And nobody is leaving me for that! Nobody cares anymore! I have more important things to worry about!"
And then, he loses it.
"MY PEOPLE AREN'T REVOLTING!"
Russia is speaking way too much. So he does the next best thing when he wants nations to shut up: he fires, making sure his aim is steady.
He doesn't miss when his aim is steady.
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Russia outright laughs, even as the blood pours from his chest.
"Not so in control as you think, are you? You can't even control yourself!" Of course, he speaks in Russian and America can't understand it, but fuck it it feels good to win. The bullet hurts, of course it does, but it isn't enough to make the moment that much worse.
He giggles again, or tries to. Russia breaks off in a cough, blood dribbling out the corner of his mouth. He doubles over staggering a bit and--
Guess what falls out of his chest. Just guess. If you haven't guess by now, it's his freaking heart.
Russia stares for a moment. The heart beats a bit before going still. A moment passes. The shotgun drops and Russia wobbles, dropping to his knees and holding his pipe loosely in his hand. He sways on his knees, scooping up the heart with his free hand.
"You broke it," he murmurs, bewildered. "You broke my heart."
There's another long pause, and it almost looks like Russia is about to fall over dead.
That is until, in one swift moment, he shoves his heart in his pocket, picks up his gun and pipe, and charges towards America.
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What. The. Fuck.
His heart. Russia's heart is on the damn floor, with his bullet in it, and Russia's.. pissed that he broke it?
America's convinced for a moment that he's lost his mind.
What is life anymore? When a heart falls out of someone and lands on the floor?!
America can't say anything. He can't get his mind to focus, as he stands there, watching Russia mourn his heart, expecting him to die.
When he charges, he isn't expecting it, and he can't get himself to move fast enough.
One hand fumbles for his gun, while the other tries to deflect the pipe. His natural ability to be freaked out by shit he doesn't understand makes his legs unhelpful, and he trips backwards. Shit.
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He swings the pipe wildly, nearly on the verge of letting his own anger get a hold of him. Do you know how hard it is to fix a heart, America? REALLY FUCKING HARD. Especially with a bullet in it! Granted, Russia's main method is to soak his heart in vodka until it heals, but c'mon. That's totally a valid medical procedure.
The pipe strikes America in the side, then Russia goes for the other, and finally he kicks America in the stomach. With a distance between them, Russia pauses on the assault with the pipe, cocks his shot gun, and fires.
Several times.
Let's just say Russia isn't very good at aim.
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