Re: Haunting You (3b/?)
anonymous
August 13 2009, 00:22:27 UTC
In the midst of all the pillaging and burning, England found himself separated from Canada and the rest of his troops. He was unsure on how it happened. One moment he was with the others, then suddenly he was standing in a darkened alley by himself.
“This isn't very nice, Iggy,” America's voice pierced through the gloom.
Immediately, England whirled around, his musket in hand. To his horror, it was not the America he would have expected to find, but rather a small translucent child dressed in white.
“You,” England breathed, suddenly noticing the unnatural darkness of the alley.
“Me,” America's ghost mocked, giggling slightly. England's musket trembled in his grasp. To his horror, England realized the weapon was completely useless to the enemy before him.
“What are you doing here?” England growled out, steeling his mind against the spirit's tricks. Already, his body felt numb and his fine motor skills were going down the proverbial drain.
The child laughed gently, “Silly Iggy. I live here.”
“Stop that!” the island Nation hissed, stepping back as the toddler stepped forward.
“Stop what?”
God...America looked so sweet, so innocent. It pulled at England's heartstrings like the plucking of a harp. The island Nation was almost fooled.
“Stop hiding behind that face!” England demanded, “Face me like a man, monster!”
“Bastard,” America spat, venom thick in his voice. But he complied, and within the space of one breath and the next, the teenage soldier stood in place of the child.
“Better,” the older man lied. He had almost forgotten how handsome America grew up to be.
“Would you like me to point my gun at you too, England?” the ghost sneered, twisting his hands in the air to make a musket materialize out of the shadows and into his palm, “You know, just to go along with your play acting.”
“Git!” England felt his hands shake some more. America smirked.
“Still can't shoot, England~?” America taunted in a singsong voice, his tone laced with cockiness.
“D-Don't be an idiot, dolt!” England gasped out, already feeling those foreign (or not so foreign) threads of fear worm their way inside of him, “You're a ghost! Shooting you will do me no good.”
“Mmm,” America hummed noncommittally, “I wonder if that has something to do with me being a ghost, or me being America?”
“You're not America!!” England screeched. His eyes screwed themselves shut as his hands found themselves pulling back the hammer and taking the shot.
BANG!
The cry of pain and the splatter of blood was completely unexpected.
Re: Haunting You (3c/?)
anonymous
August 13 2009, 00:26:37 UTC
When green eyes snapped open again, they were faced with a young man crumpled to the ground, a bright red stain blossoming on his white shirt. Even though he shouldn't be, England was still surprised to see that it was America lying there.
“Oh God,” England gasped, his weapon falling from nerveless fingers, like it had on that rainy day in Yorktown, “Oh God...”
America was dressed in civilian clothes, a simple homespun shirt and breeches with an old coat thrown over his shoulders. There was nothing about him that even hinted at soldier. He was covered in soot and ash, and England could see fresh red burns, only just blistering and weeping, peaking out from the younger man's sleeve. England's shot had caught him straight in the stomach and the boy was bleeding heavily on to the cobblestone.
“Oh God, Oh God,” the island Nation chanted over and over as he fell to his knees next to the other, shaking hands pressing against the wound, “Ghosts don't bleed...Dear God...”
But it was no ghost underneath England's fingertips. The body was warm and alive, the chest contracting irregularly with labored breaths. America's blood ran across England's hands like water.
“Eng...land?” America whispered brokenly, his blue eyes out of focus, “W-Why?”
Somehow, England knew the younger Nation was not referring to the gunshot.
“G-git!” England cried, feeling tears stain his cheeks, “This is war! This is war! After what you did to Canada...You deserve this, you bloody b-bastard!”
“C-civilian...”
“Fuck you, America,” England whispered coldly even as he cried and tried to stem the bleeding. America pushed at his hands weakly.
“M-make up your m-mind, England,” America coughed, blood spotting his lips, “Wh-what am I to you?”
The island was sobbing as he held America's wound shut. In the back of his mind, he recalled that there was no way that America could possibly die from this. A Nation only died when the country collapsed and there was no one willing to call themselves a citizen. America...America wouldn't die from this.
“You...you're nothing,” England lied to both of them, his hands trembling as they moved away.
And with that, England was able to pick himself up, and recall his own orders. England was a soldier, a Nation, and he had a duty, not only to his people, but to Canada as well. England's head spun, different desires tugging him in different directions until he settled for duty, for war.
“You're dead to me, boy,” England whispered, his eyes hollow.
America could only watch as England lit a torch, and then dropped it on his once colony's flesh.
America's screams cut through the air and England's heart, but the older Nation was able to walk away. England refused to look back, to see Washington (to see America) burn. He did not want to see the smoking ruins (the flames licking at America's skin like obscene lovers). Otherwise, he would break.
As he left, England almost sees America, tiny and translucent, glaring murderously at his back. And while he could not see the ghost (he refused to, he did not want to) England felt the crackling supernatural energy in the air. The sky howled in rage, and the clouds overhead opened up with heavy rains and winds. A hurricane. It was America's fury (grief) given form.
And as the rain pelted down upon him to douse the fires, England knew not to expect forgiveness, not from America nor himself.
Re: Haunting You (CH 3 Notes/?)
anonymous
August 13 2009, 00:28:55 UTC
notes:
Fairies: Yep, salt rings work on fairies too, thus why Iggy doesn't go salt crazy. He likes his pretty fairies.
August, 1814: This was the burning of Washington DC during the War of 1812. The British (and Canadians) torched the place in retaliation for the U.S. burning York, Upper Canada (modern day Toronto). Both the burning of York and Washington were considered bad military conduct since it was generally against civilized war laws to burn non-military facilities, such as the Canadian Parliament and the American White House. Thus, why ghost!America scolds England and why England feels pissed off at America on Canada's behalf. Also, the British was met with minimal resistance to their attack on Washington (and the resistance they did meet was not military), hence why living!America is dressed as a civilian.
Yorktown: Pretty much fanon that the Battle of Yorktown was the battle seen during the “Cleaning Out the Storage” strip. Yorktown was the last major battle of the American Revolution.
Hurricane during the burning of Washington: Yeah, this really happened. A hurricane (with a tornado!) hit during the British occupation of Washington DC, putting out fires and wreaking ships. Freakishly enough, more British guns were destroyed than American, forcing the British to leave Washington. The occupation only lasted for 26 hours and afterward the Americans were able to come back quickly and life returned to normal, more or less. All because of ghost!America's temper tantrum, yeah~!
Re: Haunting You (CH 3 Notes/?)
anonymous
August 13 2009, 06:12:12 UTC
holy shit, anon! that was an epic chapter! though that only made me more confused about ghost!america's presence. it didn't look like live!america was aware of the ghost's existence. maybe an unconscious invocation of magic? but i can't say dabbling-on-dark-arts!america doesn't interest me. :3
btw, i love how paranoid england had become. and his lies... heartbreaking. and oh oh, the transition from ghostmerica with live!merica when england shot him - spectacular. ...why was livemerica on the scene anyway? (and why was ghostmerica not haunting canada? ^__^)
sorry for rambling, authornon. it's just that you made me very excited. damn can't wait for the next part. toodles~ <3
Re: Haunting You (CH 3 Notes/?)
anonymous
August 13 2009, 11:55:38 UTC
Author!Anon here!
ghost!America isn't haunting Canada cause he likes to torture Iggy the most! That plus while Iggy's off wandering around on his lonesome playing with the supernatural, someone has to burn down Washington, so Canada did it.
As for the rest...all will be revealed in time ^_^
I shiver every time I read one of your installments. It's thrilling and I have you say that you consistently build on my expectations! Incorporating the real weird events of history (the hurricane) is a wonderful explanation and will quickly become a part of my headcanon, just watch.
There is also something incredibly lovely about England's interaction with real America, the line; make up your mind what I am to you, is simply gorgeous and ghost!America's anger with England upon his continued resistance to submit to his own feelings is building some seriously tantalizing tension.
Also, I didn't get back to you before and I just noticed you replied to me! Author!Anon, evil!baby!America ghost is an awesome kink! He's totally worth harboring I think and will gladly join you in naming it #1! ♥
...recaptcha is pagan Madison, which is just kinda crazy under the circumstances!
“This isn't very nice, Iggy,” America's voice pierced through the gloom.
Immediately, England whirled around, his musket in hand. To his horror, it was not the America he would have expected to find, but rather a small translucent child dressed in white.
“You,” England breathed, suddenly noticing the unnatural darkness of the alley.
“Me,” America's ghost mocked, giggling slightly. England's musket trembled in his grasp. To his horror, England realized the weapon was completely useless to the enemy before him.
“What are you doing here?” England growled out, steeling his mind against the spirit's tricks. Already, his body felt numb and his fine motor skills were going down the proverbial drain.
The child laughed gently, “Silly Iggy. I live here.”
“Stop that!” the island Nation hissed, stepping back as the toddler stepped forward.
“Stop what?”
God...America looked so sweet, so innocent. It pulled at England's heartstrings like the plucking of a harp. The island Nation was almost fooled.
“Stop hiding behind that face!” England demanded, “Face me like a man, monster!”
“Bastard,” America spat, venom thick in his voice. But he complied, and within the space of one breath and the next, the teenage soldier stood in place of the child.
“Better,” the older man lied. He had almost forgotten how handsome America grew up to be.
“Would you like me to point my gun at you too, England?” the ghost sneered, twisting his hands in the air to make a musket materialize out of the shadows and into his palm, “You know, just to go along with your play acting.”
“Git!” England felt his hands shake some more. America smirked.
“Still can't shoot, England~?” America taunted in a singsong voice, his tone laced with cockiness.
“D-Don't be an idiot, dolt!” England gasped out, already feeling those foreign (or not so foreign) threads of fear worm their way inside of him, “You're a ghost! Shooting you will do me no good.”
“Mmm,” America hummed noncommittally, “I wonder if that has something to do with me being a ghost, or me being America?”
“You're not America!!” England screeched. His eyes screwed themselves shut as his hands found themselves pulling back the hammer and taking the shot.
BANG!
The cry of pain and the splatter of blood was completely unexpected.
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“Oh God,” England gasped, his weapon falling from nerveless fingers, like it had on that rainy day in Yorktown, “Oh God...”
America was dressed in civilian clothes, a simple homespun shirt and breeches with an old coat thrown over his shoulders. There was nothing about him that even hinted at soldier. He was covered in soot and ash, and England could see fresh red burns, only just blistering and weeping, peaking out from the younger man's sleeve. England's shot had caught him straight in the stomach and the boy was bleeding heavily on to the cobblestone.
“Oh God, Oh God,” the island Nation chanted over and over as he fell to his knees next to the other, shaking hands pressing against the wound, “Ghosts don't bleed...Dear God...”
But it was no ghost underneath England's fingertips. The body was warm and alive, the chest contracting irregularly with labored breaths. America's blood ran across England's hands like water.
“Eng...land?” America whispered brokenly, his blue eyes out of focus, “W-Why?”
Somehow, England knew the younger Nation was not referring to the gunshot.
“G-git!” England cried, feeling tears stain his cheeks, “This is war! This is war! After what you did to Canada...You deserve this, you bloody b-bastard!”
“C-civilian...”
“Fuck you, America,” England whispered coldly even as he cried and tried to stem the bleeding. America pushed at his hands weakly.
“M-make up your m-mind, England,” America coughed, blood spotting his lips, “Wh-what am I to you?”
The island was sobbing as he held America's wound shut. In the back of his mind, he recalled that there was no way that America could possibly die from this. A Nation only died when the country collapsed and there was no one willing to call themselves a citizen. America...America wouldn't die from this.
“You...you're nothing,” England lied to both of them, his hands trembling as they moved away.
And with that, England was able to pick himself up, and recall his own orders. England was a soldier, a Nation, and he had a duty, not only to his people, but to Canada as well. England's head spun, different desires tugging him in different directions until he settled for duty, for war.
“You're dead to me, boy,” England whispered, his eyes hollow.
America could only watch as England lit a torch, and then dropped it on his once colony's flesh.
America's screams cut through the air and England's heart, but the older Nation was able to walk away. England refused to look back, to see Washington (to see America) burn. He did not want to see the smoking ruins (the flames licking at America's skin like obscene lovers). Otherwise, he would break.
As he left, England almost sees America, tiny and translucent, glaring murderously at his back. And while he could not see the ghost (he refused to, he did not want to) England felt the crackling supernatural energy in the air. The sky howled in rage, and the clouds overhead opened up with heavy rains and winds. A hurricane. It was America's fury (grief) given form.
And as the rain pelted down upon him to douse the fires, England knew not to expect forgiveness, not from America nor himself.
Reply
Fairies: Yep, salt rings work on fairies too, thus why Iggy doesn't go salt crazy. He likes his pretty fairies.
August, 1814: This was the burning of Washington DC during the War of 1812. The British (and Canadians) torched the place in retaliation for the U.S. burning York, Upper Canada (modern day Toronto). Both the burning of York and Washington were considered bad military conduct since it was generally against civilized war laws to burn non-military facilities, such as the Canadian Parliament and the American White House. Thus, why ghost!America scolds England and why England feels pissed off at America on Canada's behalf. Also, the British was met with minimal resistance to their attack on Washington (and the resistance they did meet was not military), hence why living!America is dressed as a civilian.
Yorktown: Pretty much fanon that the Battle of Yorktown was the battle seen during the “Cleaning Out the Storage” strip. Yorktown was the last major battle of the American Revolution.
Hurricane during the burning of Washington: Yeah, this really happened. A hurricane (with a tornado!) hit during the British occupation of Washington DC, putting out fires and wreaking ships. Freakishly enough, more British guns were destroyed than American, forcing the British to leave Washington. The occupation only lasted for 26 hours and afterward the Americans were able to come back quickly and life returned to normal, more or less. All because of ghost!America's temper tantrum, yeah~!
Teaser...Next time in Haunting You:
“Angleterre!”
“Fuck...”
Reply
btw, i love how paranoid england had become. and his lies... heartbreaking. and oh oh, the transition from ghostmerica with live!merica when england shot him - spectacular. ...why was livemerica on the scene anyway? (and why was ghostmerica not haunting canada? ^__^)
sorry for rambling, authornon. it's just that you made me very excited. damn can't wait for the next part. toodles~ <3
Reply
ghost!America isn't haunting Canada cause he likes to torture Iggy the most! That plus while Iggy's off wandering around on his lonesome playing with the supernatural, someone has to burn down Washington, so Canada did it.
As for the rest...all will be revealed in time ^_^
Reply
There is also something incredibly lovely about England's interaction with real America, the line; make up your mind what I am to you, is simply gorgeous and ghost!America's anger with England upon his continued resistance to submit to his own feelings is building some seriously tantalizing tension.
Also, I didn't get back to you before and I just noticed you replied to me! Author!Anon, evil!baby!America ghost is an awesome kink! He's totally worth harboring I think and will gladly join you in naming it #1! ♥
...recaptcha is pagan Madison, which is just kinda crazy under the circumstances!
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