Title: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Wales, England, Mexico, Brazil, India, Afghanistan, America, Australia, New Zealand, Israel, Japan, and a surprise.
Rating: 12
Warnings: And so the WDF meeting begins! Actually not much warning here...
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.
It was a very different room to the World Conference room. Where as the place where the Nations of the world met to argue and discuss and get official things out of the way had high windows and a grand ceiling, this room was little more than an oversized underground bunker, nigh impossible to locate without knowing where it was, with no windows, and florescent lighting to illuminate gray walls and concrete. The chairs, rather than being the high-backed comfy chairs of the World Conference, were simple desk chairs, dark charcoal coloured and mildly uncomfortable if one sat in them too long, which they would end up doing.
Wales' injuries protested as he lowered himself into one of them, England hovering nearby with a watchful eye on his brother.
"I'm fine, sit down or you'll do your leg in worse." the elder brother waved him off. England frowned but sat down next to him anyway. Across the table, Mexico was spinning a high caliber bullet around on its tip to see how long it would stand upright. Brazil watched her with a bored expression. They both looked tired, much too tired for their age.
India breezed into the room, looking much fresher than the rest of them but with a face full of thunder. She sat down on the other side of England, nearly slamming her files down on the desk. Afghanistan wandered in behind her, clutching her AK-47 to her chest like it might do her more protection that way.
Arthur shot Wales a look that said 'wish me luck' before stepping into the tiger's lair. "Maya, what's-?"
"He says he can't find Portugal." she snapped, re-arranging her papers in an irritable manner. "Which is stupid because- Portugal can't have been beaten by Turkey. He just can't."
Brazil stood up from his chair so abruptly it nearly fell over, eyes wide. "Que?!"
"He- Port's missing?" England's heart stopped, then stuttered to a start again. Alfred walked in just in time for the island Nation to interrogate him. "America, what's happened to Port?!"
It seemed to Wales that America looked the most haggard out of all of them; deep dark circles around his eyes, hair messier than usual, a cup of steaming coffee that could be smelled from halfway across the other side of the room, it was so strong. Blue eyes squinted through spectacles that were slightly wonky, though Mexico didn't even make an attempt to grab at them as he walked past.
"His ships made it through the Turkish defense, but the one he was on got tangled with another one and sank." America yawned just afterward, which did nothing to calm anyone down.
"Don't just say that so nonchalantly!"
"Is he okay? He didn't try to go down with the ship did he?"
"Come on America! Tell us!"
America slumped into his chair and ran a hand through his messed up locks. "I don't know. Last communication we got from that ship was that he and Turkey were having a punch up, and then nothing. If he got on the other ships and got to land then-"
"Then he'd be here." India growled. Afghanistan laid a hand on her arm, and the two shared a look. Finally, the elder let out a long sigh. "Sorry. I'm just... worried and frustrated and tired."
"S'cool, I'm used to people yelling at me by now." Alfred downed his coffee, and from his brief case took out a thermos filled with yet more of the stuff and chugged straight from the flask. "My Boss, my people... the new states..."
An awkward silence settled.
Thankfully, it was broken by the arrival of Australia and New Zealand.
"Mornin' everybody!" he chimed, grinning as he walked through the doors towards the table. New Zealand walked at his side, looking a little pale and with eyes darting everywhere. Upon assessing that the room had no windows, she silently curled a hand into the hem of her brother's shirt. It made him lower his volume a little. "What's with the long faces?"
"We can't locate Port." Brazil explained, making tiny rips in a piece of blank writing paper; a nervous habit. Australia tilted his head.
"Really? Because I ran into Israel in the hallway and he gave me this." the southern Nation held up a note. Brazil snatched it, translating the Portuguese.
"I'm fine, a little waterlogged, currently in negotiations with Turkey to get him out of NWO since the rest of the Middle East are backing out. Can't get to the meeting though. Don't worry about me." Brazil sighed. "Could have said that earlier, idiot... PS: Lost my contact numbers at sea and the frequency's been changed. Little help?"
England's shoulders relaxed. Wales felt like he needed a cup of tea.
Israel walked into the room with his usual default expression of "mildly irritable" ramped up to "pissed off". Nobody asked why, not yet. It was safer that way.
Japan appeared in another seat quite far away from the Hebrew Nation, closer to Australia. He did not lean against the back of his seat. "South Korea is staying with his sister and will not be attending." he explained, arranging his files much more calmly than the rest of the room. "Germany-san has informed me that he is far too busy sorting out Europe to attend, and sends his apologies. The rest with him are in a similar situation."
"Right, okay." Alfred said wearily, trying to sit up a little more in his chair so he wouldn't fall out of it. "So that's everyone-"
"Moi aussi." came another voice.
'Was that French?' Wales thought, looking around for France and wondering how the hell he'd got here.
The person standing in the doorway was not France; he was far too young. A thin face with pronounced cheek bones certainly echoed the European Nation's own, but his eyes were an odd purplish-blue that only came from the north, arctic territory. Dark blonde hair curled at the ends much like France's as well, though it was more unruly. He was lean and skinny, just coming out of his teenage years, though it was almost like he'd grown a little too fast. His clothes, as he was not in uniform, were worn and well-cared for in the way that France would never allow himself to dress.
That smirk was extremely familiar though.
"You-" Alfred started, standing from his chair with a shocked expression. A thin eyebrow raised.
"Moi."
"Who?" The rest of the table chorused.
Notes:
- Aaaand no prizes to anyone who guesses who this surprise is. <3
- The meeting will continue next chapter, which may or may not go up tomorrow evening. Idk, depends if I have time. If not, the next chapter will be... Friday. orz
- India is fierce if crossed. Iggy knows this well. She doesn't usually get angry when she's worried, but with the added stress of wartime losses, it's taking it's toll.
Part 54