Forced Isolationism
anonymous
October 5 2009, 02:24:45 UTC
Inspired by all the Empire America prompts...with a twist. (I am so mean to my Nation...)
A few decades into the future, and one year after his newest boss is elected, America stands up during a world meeting and announces that the US will be complete withdrawing itself from the world stage. In the stunned chaos that follows he disappears and no one sees or hears anything from him or his government for the next 10 years. Then the US reappears on the world stage in a major way by starting an invasion of both Canada and Mexico and threatening to use it's nuclear weapons on both countries if they don't fold. There's outrage and betrayal amongst the nations though America himself has yet to make an appearance. Russia receives the first invitation to visit the US since the whole isolation started. He's curious, and possibly willing to become allies (hey it is Russia after all which is why he got the first invite) he arrives to discover a very changed America. Practically emaciated, heavily guarded and probably drugged and abused. Russia isn't allowed to actually speak to America but America does manage to deliver a message tapped out with his fingers in old morse code -- SOS. Back amongst the nations they quickly realize that none of this was actually America's decision and that he's being held captive by his own government as they go on their bid for world domination. Now the Nations must work together to try and rescue him and stop his rogue government from blowing up the rest of them in the process.
Any characters, pairings or no pairings at all are fine for this one. (Top choices for America pairings would be UK/US, Russia/America, or Spain/America though)
May the Eagle Soar [Prologue/?]
anonymous
October 5 2009, 12:08:57 UTC
Arthur wasn’t able to get that memory to leave his mind. He wanted to forget that it ever happened, that America was still with them. He wanted to forget the betrayal and hurt he had felt on that fateful day. Arthur shut his eyes tightly, willing away the onslaught of memories, though he knew that he would only relive them later on. He sighed and gave up the fight, allowing the events of that day a few weeks ago (had it really been that short a while ago?).
In all honesty, they should have seen it coming. America had been getting quieter and quieter everyday that passed during the election that was going on in his home. He wasn’t paying any attention to what the other countries were saying. It was strange, since America was known to at least pretend he was listening, or at least listen to half of what someone was saying. Still, the Nation got yelled at quite a bit from England and Germany. Japan and Canada kept asking if he was all right, but he always smiled and said that he was fine.
Arthur knew now that it was a load of BS.
Then, the elections were over and the new President of the United States, Parker Freeman, came into power. America wasn’t the same since then. He had looked so withdrawn and seemed to have had something troubling his mind. Arthur should have asked what was wrong, but he hadn’t. He thought that…well, he honestly wasn’t sure what he had been thinking. The point was that he should have known.
And then came that meeting from a few weeks back.
America had looked so exhausted, but they all passed it off as something else. They should have confronted him about it a long time ago, but none had. Arthur choked back a sob as he remembered the American standing up in the middle of one of Germany’s rants. He remembered how silent everyone had gotten in that one motion; it was as if all had sensed the seriousness and weight his words were going to hold.
“As of now, the United States of America will be withdrawing from the world stage. We will be completely isolating ourselves from all outside forces, with the exception of trade. I’m sorry for interrupting you, Germany,” his voice had been stiff and emotionless. America’s eyes were dull and resigned, gazing at no one in particular. It was as if the old America everyone had known ceased to exist. They were so shocked by his statement that they could only watch as he left the room.
When the door closed, chaos reigned, though Arthur was unable to comprehend any of it. All he could think about was where his beloved Alfred had gone. Had Arthur done something to hurt him so bad that he would go back into his isolationist ways? No, wait; Anglo-American relations had been going very smooth in recent years. Then what changed? Why would Alfred leave, if it wasn’t because of Arthur?
Bloody git. The Briton thought, now back in the present. He sobbed and ran a hand across his eyes, feeling the wetness of his tears. Bastard left me alone…again…selfish prat.
Arthur had never thought that Alfred would be the one to break him again.
AuthorAnon~
anonymous
October 7 2009, 00:34:34 UTC
Sorry I didn't respond earlier. ^^; Anyway, I'm very excited for this story, really. :) I don't know when I'll have the time for the next chapter, but hopefully I can get it up this week or the next.
You're welcome. And thanks for giving the prompt. ^^
May the Eagle Soar [1a/?]
anonymous
October 11 2009, 17:48:11 UTC
~*~*~* Chapter 1: The Cry ~*~*~*
”The United States are holding strong on their threat to Canada and Mexico. For reasons unknown, the US is telling them to surrender or face a nuclear threat. The US is also-“
Ivan turned off the television with a sigh. For the past few weeks, then news was only talking about America’s strange shift from isolationism to imperialism. None of the Nations had seen him for over a decade, not even Canada. Although change could happen to anyone, Ivan just couldn’t see the loud American attacking his brother, not since they attacked each other’s capitols. Even in recent years Canada and Mexico had done nothing to provoke their brother.
Abruptly, the Russian’s cell phone rang, the tiny speaker blaring out the Russian national anthem. Ivan answered immediately, recognizing his boss’ ring tone.
“Ivan. America has sent us an invitation. I want you to go for a few days and give me a report on the situation before we do anything else,” the man instructed vaguely. Ivan wasn’t stupid; he could read between the lines. The “invitation” was most likely an alliance proposal. Suspicious, but it was a perfect opportunity for the Russian to talk to America and get more information, which his boss was counting on.
“Da, of course.”
~*~*~*
The flight from Moscow to Washington, DC had been long and tiring, but Ivan refused to show weakness. He smiled innocently at his armed escort, noticing an unusual amount of cold indifference on the faces of those soldiers. It reminded Ivan of the deepest, coldest winters his land would be plagued with. The Russian could see that if given the order to kill, they would follow it without hesitation and make sure the person was dead. The revelation sent a shiver of trepidation skittering down his spine.
“Come with us, please, Mr. Braginsky,” one of the soldiers said, his tone neutral and cold. This was not what Ivan had expected. Where had the fire gone from these people? He needed to talk to Alfred. Immediately.
“Alright,” the Russian replied, still smiling. He followed them at a relaxed, militant pace, his insides twisting into multiple knots. Instincts were telling Ivan that something was seriously wrong. Usually, Alfred would have been there to greet any and all Nation guests, yet he was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t even waiting for the Russian in the car.
Where the hell was Alfred?
~*~*~*
The ride had been awkward for Ivan without any sort of sound in the American vehicle. He was used to being treated to idle conversation by Alfred, who just couldn’t stay quiet when he didn’t have to. Sometimes, the escorts would join in to relieve the boredom or to antagonize one of them, usually the younger Nation. Yet, these men were more like stone statues than living people.
At least the city has not changed. He thought, though it did nothing to quell the anxiety he was starting to feel. Ivan hoped that the feeling would fade if he met the President or, more importantly, Alfred in person.
That hope was dashed when he stepped out of the car, standing in front of the familiar White House. A man in a black tux stepped forward to meet the Nation, hand outstretched for a handshake. His eyes were a cold, calculating brown and his hair reminded Ivan of greasy charcoal. They shook hands for all but a second, both discreetly rubbing their hands against their clothes, as if to get the feel of the other off. Ivan disliked this man who called himself President of the United States of America. He was too…cold and indifferent.
*OP Dances*
anonymous
October 11 2009, 18:31:28 UTC
You have no idea how much I squeed when I saw the notice for this pop up in my mailbox.
And oh gods this was awesome in ever sense of the word. Love the view of what the US people have become, subtle but distinctly different, and it makes sense that Russia would pick up on it in an instant.
AuthorAnon~
anonymous
October 11 2009, 18:40:17 UTC
Haha, awesome! :)
Oh, goodness, I'm glad of that~! <3 Russia's been around this for so long that I think it'd be easy enough for him to pick up on the subtle differences in the American people.
More shall come. ^^ Oh, just one question, OP. Would you mind a Russia x America x England threesome? If not, awesome, if you do, that's fine, too. :)
You have no idea how much you just made my lifetime with that suggestion. Russia/America/England is my OT3 and there's just not enough good fanfic with it. At least not where one of them isn't trying to rape/maim/hurt one or both of the others.
May the Eagle Soar [1b/?]
anonymous
October 11 2009, 20:38:11 UTC
“Welcome to America, Mr. Braginsky. Please, allow me the pleasure to introduce myself. I am Andrew Freeman, the current President of the US,” he gave the Russian a cold smile, “Allow me to give you a tour of the White House. We have made some…changes since you last visited.”
“Thank you,” Ivan replied, returning a falsely innocent smile, lacing it with subtle hints of ice. He had a bad feeling about all of this. The Russian doubted that he was going to agree to an alliance with such a man as Andrew Freeman. Still, he followed the man and made polite conversation with him. When they got to Alfred’s room, the older Nation stopped when he saw that they were only going to pass right by it. Freeman turned around when he noticed his guest had stopped, his face still the same cold expression.
“Is there something wrong, Mr. Braginsky?” Freeman asked. His cold brown eyes met Ivan’s equally hard purple eyes. A cold smile upturned the Russian’s lips.
“Da. I would like to see Alfred, if you do not mind,” And I’m not leaving until I do. Ivan vowed, not letting the other man cow him into obedience. He had been around men such as Freeman for too long to be intimidated by a mere mortal. Ivan and his people had seen worse. The staring contest continued for a few crucial moments before Freeman smirked coldly.
“No, of course you’re allowed to see Alfred,” the American nodded to two of his escorts and they opened the door. Ivan turned and strained his eyes to see in the low light. That was his first clue that something was deeply wrong. He heard a click and the lights snapped on, suddenly brightening the room to reveal a horrible sight.
Alfred was, indeed, in the room and Ivan wished that he wasn’t. All over the walls were spatters of blood, so much that if the young Nation were human he most certainly would have died. The blood was everywhere: on the walls, splattered across the ceiling, drowning the carpet, and dirtying the ripped clothes Alfred wore. Ivan made to move closer, but was stopped when he was only a meter away. The close inspection made him angry and resentful to these people who called themselves Americans.
The young Nation’s clothes were ripped, as was mentioned. Deep cuts and scars marred Alfred’s usually tan skin, although it had paled drastically and he was so painfully, obviously malnourished. Ivan saw that the worst cuts were splayed all over the man’s hips and legs. He shuddered, but hid it, knowing exactly what they had done to him. The Russian’s eyes grew colder, especially when Alfred-bound so tight to the chair he was in that his wrists and ankles were bleeding-lifted his head, dull blue eyes meeting Ivan’s.
A soft, tapping noise could be heard at that time. The others in the room hadn’t noticed it, but Ivan had. It was old Morse code, a type that had been used many years ago, only to evolve into something simpler to understand. The old code was more complicated, but the Russian still knew what it meant. The meaning made his blood still and wiped out all emotion in his heart, except for a cold, sobering anger.
S. O. S.
Ivan knew his answer and wanted desperately to go home, to share his knowledge with the other countries. There was no way he could help this man alone. Especially since he knew that one person alone couldn’t help Alfred heal.
A few decades into the future, and one year after his newest boss is elected, America stands up during a world meeting and announces that the US will be complete withdrawing itself from the world stage. In the stunned chaos that follows he disappears and no one sees or hears anything from him or his government for the next 10 years. Then the US reappears on the world stage in a major way by starting an invasion of both Canada and Mexico and threatening to use it's nuclear weapons on both countries if they don't fold. There's outrage and betrayal amongst the nations though America himself has yet to make an appearance. Russia receives the first invitation to visit the US since the whole isolation started. He's curious, and possibly willing to become allies (hey it is Russia after all which is why he got the first invite) he arrives to discover a very changed America. Practically emaciated, heavily guarded and probably drugged and abused. Russia isn't allowed to actually speak to America but America does manage to deliver a message tapped out with his fingers in old morse code -- SOS. Back amongst the nations they quickly realize that none of this was actually America's decision and that he's being held captive by his own government as they go on their bid for world domination. Now the Nations must work together to try and rescue him and stop his rogue government from blowing up the rest of them in the process.
Any characters, pairings or no pairings at all are fine for this one. (Top choices for America pairings would be UK/US, Russia/America, or Spain/America though)
Reply
In all honesty, they should have seen it coming. America had been getting quieter and quieter everyday that passed during the election that was going on in his home. He wasn’t paying any attention to what the other countries were saying. It was strange, since America was known to at least pretend he was listening, or at least listen to half of what someone was saying. Still, the Nation got yelled at quite a bit from England and Germany. Japan and Canada kept asking if he was all right, but he always smiled and said that he was fine.
Arthur knew now that it was a load of BS.
Then, the elections were over and the new President of the United States, Parker Freeman, came into power. America wasn’t the same since then. He had looked so withdrawn and seemed to have had something troubling his mind. Arthur should have asked what was wrong, but he hadn’t. He thought that…well, he honestly wasn’t sure what he had been thinking. The point was that he should have known.
And then came that meeting from a few weeks back.
America had looked so exhausted, but they all passed it off as something else. They should have confronted him about it a long time ago, but none had. Arthur choked back a sob as he remembered the American standing up in the middle of one of Germany’s rants. He remembered how silent everyone had gotten in that one motion; it was as if all had sensed the seriousness and weight his words were going to hold.
“As of now, the United States of America will be withdrawing from the world stage. We will be completely isolating ourselves from all outside forces, with the exception of trade. I’m sorry for interrupting you, Germany,” his voice had been stiff and emotionless. America’s eyes were dull and resigned, gazing at no one in particular. It was as if the old America everyone had known ceased to exist. They were so shocked by his statement that they could only watch as he left the room.
When the door closed, chaos reigned, though Arthur was unable to comprehend any of it. All he could think about was where his beloved Alfred had gone. Had Arthur done something to hurt him so bad that he would go back into his isolationist ways? No, wait; Anglo-American relations had been going very smooth in recent years. Then what changed? Why would Alfred leave, if it wasn’t because of Arthur?
Bloody git. The Briton thought, now back in the present. He sobbed and ran a hand across his eyes, feeling the wetness of his tears. Bastard left me alone…again…selfish prat.
Arthur had never thought that Alfred would be the one to break him again.
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great work so far anon! Can't wait to see more!
Captcha says "reality Peking" watchu trying to say Captcha?!
Reply
Thank you so much!
*Dances*
Reply
You're welcome. And thanks for giving the prompt. ^^
*parties*
Reply
God I'm in such a sappy mood...must be past my bedtime or something... *snerks*
Reply
such an awesome start! can't wait for more :D
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Chapter 1: The Cry
~*~*~*
”The United States are holding strong on their threat to Canada and Mexico. For reasons unknown, the US is telling them to surrender or face a nuclear threat. The US is also-“
Ivan turned off the television with a sigh. For the past few weeks, then news was only talking about America’s strange shift from isolationism to imperialism. None of the Nations had seen him for over a decade, not even Canada. Although change could happen to anyone, Ivan just couldn’t see the loud American attacking his brother, not since they attacked each other’s capitols. Even in recent years Canada and Mexico had done nothing to provoke their brother.
Abruptly, the Russian’s cell phone rang, the tiny speaker blaring out the Russian national anthem. Ivan answered immediately, recognizing his boss’ ring tone.
“Ivan. America has sent us an invitation. I want you to go for a few days and give me a report on the situation before we do anything else,” the man instructed vaguely. Ivan wasn’t stupid; he could read between the lines. The “invitation” was most likely an alliance proposal. Suspicious, but it was a perfect opportunity for the Russian to talk to America and get more information, which his boss was counting on.
“Da, of course.”
~*~*~*
The flight from Moscow to Washington, DC had been long and tiring, but Ivan refused to show weakness. He smiled innocently at his armed escort, noticing an unusual amount of cold indifference on the faces of those soldiers. It reminded Ivan of the deepest, coldest winters his land would be plagued with. The Russian could see that if given the order to kill, they would follow it without hesitation and make sure the person was dead. The revelation sent a shiver of trepidation skittering down his spine.
“Come with us, please, Mr. Braginsky,” one of the soldiers said, his tone neutral and cold. This was not what Ivan had expected. Where had the fire gone from these people? He needed to talk to Alfred. Immediately.
“Alright,” the Russian replied, still smiling. He followed them at a relaxed, militant pace, his insides twisting into multiple knots. Instincts were telling Ivan that something was seriously wrong. Usually, Alfred would have been there to greet any and all Nation guests, yet he was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t even waiting for the Russian in the car.
Where the hell was Alfred?
~*~*~*
The ride had been awkward for Ivan without any sort of sound in the American vehicle. He was used to being treated to idle conversation by Alfred, who just couldn’t stay quiet when he didn’t have to. Sometimes, the escorts would join in to relieve the boredom or to antagonize one of them, usually the younger Nation. Yet, these men were more like stone statues than living people.
At least the city has not changed. He thought, though it did nothing to quell the anxiety he was starting to feel. Ivan hoped that the feeling would fade if he met the President or, more importantly, Alfred in person.
That hope was dashed when he stepped out of the car, standing in front of the familiar White House. A man in a black tux stepped forward to meet the Nation, hand outstretched for a handshake. His eyes were a cold, calculating brown and his hair reminded Ivan of greasy charcoal. They shook hands for all but a second, both discreetly rubbing their hands against their clothes, as if to get the feel of the other off. Ivan disliked this man who called himself President of the United States of America. He was too…cold and indifferent.
Reply
And oh gods this was awesome in ever sense of the word. Love the view of what the US people have become, subtle but distinctly different, and it makes sense that Russia would pick up on it in an instant.
Just...yeah...perfect. More please! :-)
Reply
Oh, goodness, I'm glad of that~! <3 Russia's been around this for so long that I think it'd be easy enough for him to pick up on the subtle differences in the American people.
More shall come. ^^ Oh, just one question, OP. Would you mind a Russia x America x England threesome? If not, awesome, if you do, that's fine, too. :)
Reply
You have no idea how much you just made my lifetime with that suggestion. Russia/America/England is my OT3 and there's just not enough good fanfic with it. At least not where one of them isn't trying to rape/maim/hurt one or both of the others.
So...uh...yes that would be fine! ;-)
Reply
“Thank you,” Ivan replied, returning a falsely innocent smile, lacing it with subtle hints of ice. He had a bad feeling about all of this. The Russian doubted that he was going to agree to an alliance with such a man as Andrew Freeman. Still, he followed the man and made polite conversation with him. When they got to Alfred’s room, the older Nation stopped when he saw that they were only going to pass right by it. Freeman turned around when he noticed his guest had stopped, his face still the same cold expression.
“Is there something wrong, Mr. Braginsky?” Freeman asked. His cold brown eyes met Ivan’s equally hard purple eyes. A cold smile upturned the Russian’s lips.
“Da. I would like to see Alfred, if you do not mind,” And I’m not leaving until I do. Ivan vowed, not letting the other man cow him into obedience. He had been around men such as Freeman for too long to be intimidated by a mere mortal. Ivan and his people had seen worse. The staring contest continued for a few crucial moments before Freeman smirked coldly.
“No, of course you’re allowed to see Alfred,” the American nodded to two of his escorts and they opened the door. Ivan turned and strained his eyes to see in the low light. That was his first clue that something was deeply wrong. He heard a click and the lights snapped on, suddenly brightening the room to reveal a horrible sight.
Alfred was, indeed, in the room and Ivan wished that he wasn’t. All over the walls were spatters of blood, so much that if the young Nation were human he most certainly would have died. The blood was everywhere: on the walls, splattered across the ceiling, drowning the carpet, and dirtying the ripped clothes Alfred wore. Ivan made to move closer, but was stopped when he was only a meter away. The close inspection made him angry and resentful to these people who called themselves Americans.
The young Nation’s clothes were ripped, as was mentioned. Deep cuts and scars marred Alfred’s usually tan skin, although it had paled drastically and he was so painfully, obviously malnourished. Ivan saw that the worst cuts were splayed all over the man’s hips and legs. He shuddered, but hid it, knowing exactly what they had done to him. The Russian’s eyes grew colder, especially when Alfred-bound so tight to the chair he was in that his wrists and ankles were bleeding-lifted his head, dull blue eyes meeting Ivan’s.
A soft, tapping noise could be heard at that time. The others in the room hadn’t noticed it, but Ivan had. It was old Morse code, a type that had been used many years ago, only to evolve into something simpler to understand. The old code was more complicated, but the Russian still knew what it meant. The meaning made his blood still and wiped out all emotion in his heart, except for a cold, sobering anger.
S. O. S.
Ivan knew his answer and wanted desperately to go home, to share his knowledge with the other countries. There was no way he could help this man alone. Especially since he knew that one person alone couldn’t help Alfred heal.
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Oh man...poor Alfred... :-(
Anxiously awaiting more!
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