Re: Flipside (2c/?) above is 2b
anonymous
August 24 2009, 18:21:33 UTC
“Thank God!” the intruder (America? But America had died...he had died so young...) laughed happily, “I thought I was stuck here forever! Tony must have beamed you guys in to get me. Man, I know I said I wanted a vacation, but I was kinda hoping to spend a little time at the beach with too, you know? Well, maybe not for very long, Iggy, since you burn like your scones...But I gotta admit, this place is fucking amazing! As soon as Tony gets the kinks worked out of his system, I totally wanna come back. Everything is so real and accurate! Awesome graphics.”
“What the bloody hell are you talking about?!” England yelped, pushing away the taller man once he got over his shock, “Who are you?”
The intruder raised an eyebrow, “Are you okay, England? I know that I ditched my glasses, but I don't look that different.”
England sputtered. This man knew he was a Nation! Dear God...he looked so much like America, too. But England had been there. He saw the body. America was dead!
The stranger looked down when he felt a tug on his coat, his eyes locking on little Canada. With a grin, the tall intruder picked up the colony, tossing the boy in the air and catching him gently causing Canada to giggle.
“You know, I thought about doing the kid thing too, but really...I don't like being short,” the stranger told Canada, “But you look fucking cute, Mattie! Be careful you don't show Francis, he might try to kidnap you again. France is such a pedo.”
“Al?” Canada whispered, reaching out with his chubby hands, “You're Al. You look and feel just like him.”
England sucked in a breath. Canada and America were blood brothers, a rarity among their kind, and twins to boot. The twins could always feel each other and understood each other in ways others could barely comprehend. If Canada thought this person was America...
“Dear God,” England whispered, “You are America...”
“Well, yeah. What's goin-hrk!” America's words were cut off as England pulled both of his colonies into a hug.
“Dear God, you're alive!” England cried, holding his children close.”
“England, you're going all weird on me,” America said, a tad uncomfortably, “Is this got something to do with the outfit? I knew you were going to fall to pieces when I put on this uniform.”
“My dear boy,” England smiled, pulling back a little to get a better look at America. There was no doubting it. He was older and taler (much taller) but it was definitely America. England's little colony.
“Dear Lord,” England gasped, hugging both colonies close to him again, “After Salem, I thought I would never see you again...”
“Wait, what?!” America yelped, stepping out of the embrace, “What about Salem?”
England frowned. America should know about Salem...
“The Witch Trials, lad,” England reminded him, “After the witches became exposed, you got caught up in the middle...God, I thought you had died!”
“Oh fuck,” America swore, “This is starting to sound like Tony's game!”
The expression on the blue-eyed Nation flickered, shock written all over his face.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," America cursed, sitting down heavily on the bed, "You-you're not my England are you? Or Canada?"
"What on earth are you talking about? And stop bloody swearing in front of your brother. Honestly...Language!"
"England," America began seriously, "Does the name George Washington mean anything to you? Lafayette? Betsy Ross?"
“What the bloody hell are you talking about?!” England yelped, pushing away the taller man once he got over his shock, “Who are you?”
The intruder raised an eyebrow, “Are you okay, England? I know that I ditched my glasses, but I don't look that different.”
England sputtered. This man knew he was a Nation! Dear God...he looked so much like America, too. But England had been there. He saw the body. America was dead!
The stranger looked down when he felt a tug on his coat, his eyes locking on little Canada. With a grin, the tall intruder picked up the colony, tossing the boy in the air and catching him gently causing Canada to giggle.
“You know, I thought about doing the kid thing too, but really...I don't like being short,” the stranger told Canada, “But you look fucking cute, Mattie! Be careful you don't show Francis, he might try to kidnap you again. France is such a pedo.”
“Al?” Canada whispered, reaching out with his chubby hands, “You're Al. You look and feel just like him.”
England sucked in a breath. Canada and America were blood brothers, a rarity among their kind, and twins to boot. The twins could always feel each other and understood each other in ways others could barely comprehend. If Canada thought this person was America...
“Dear God,” England whispered, “You are America...”
“Well, yeah. What's goin-hrk!” America's words were cut off as England pulled both of his colonies into a hug.
“Dear God, you're alive!” England cried, holding his children close.”
“England, you're going all weird on me,” America said, a tad uncomfortably, “Is this got something to do with the outfit? I knew you were going to fall to pieces when I put on this uniform.”
“My dear boy,” England smiled, pulling back a little to get a better look at America. There was no doubting it. He was older and taler (much taller) but it was definitely America. England's little colony.
“Dear Lord,” England gasped, hugging both colonies close to him again, “After Salem, I thought I would never see you again...”
“Wait, what?!” America yelped, stepping out of the embrace, “What about Salem?”
England frowned. America should know about Salem...
“The Witch Trials, lad,” England reminded him, “After the witches became exposed, you got caught up in the middle...God, I thought you had died!”
“Oh fuck,” America swore, “This is starting to sound like Tony's game!”
The expression on the blue-eyed Nation flickered, shock written all over his face.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," America cursed, sitting down heavily on the bed, "You-you're not my England are you? Or Canada?"
"What on earth are you talking about? And stop bloody swearing in front of your brother. Honestly...Language!"
"England," America began seriously, "Does the name George Washington mean anything to you? Lafayette? Betsy Ross?"
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