[2 or 3/?] I thought it would be a good idea at the time [2 or 3 depends on who's asking/?]
anonymous
November 22 2009, 08:24:25 UTC
The name was foreign, new and belwidering, just like everything else in the New World. And the ancient, forgotten tongue of the nations could not translate it.
The Italies (and France) were enraptured by the ‘pretty, pretty, shiny, shiny’ light. And Spain was awed by the child himself. Never mind the “shiny light.” But Prussia and England were yet to be impressed. The conquistadors, who were still very much in the vicinity thank you very much!, were baffled but shared the same sentiments. Psh, it made light. Big deal.
“So? What does it do?” England bluntly asked.
And the boy’s expression completely changed. A haunting smirk darkening his expression.
He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t you like to find out? Maybe by cutting off a limb or-!”
“Yöëtsate!”
The child nation yelped, swinging the lightsaber over his head. The weapon cutting straight through the trunk of the tree. The tree creaking loudly before falling backwards with an earth-shattering crash.
It was safe to say Prussia and England were impressed. The conquistadors along with them.
Yöëtsate, as the boy was now dubbed, leaped forwards in an attempt to escape but was caught by the collar of strange shirt. And none to gently hauled back.
“What have I told you about playing with the lightsabers? Look! You just killed a tree!” An elder man, also a nation, loudly reprimanded. Wresting the weapon from the young one’s grip.
(The conquistadors were hurriedly ushered by their self-appointed tour guides in that “nothing to see here” manner. The nations were thankfully left alone.)
Yöëtsate struggled fiercely. Almost animalistic in his behavior before the elder nation whacked him upside the head.
The European nations were rather shocked. Perhaps they were savages after all. A beluef reaffirmed by the child seeming to fall limp.
“Hey! Don’t hit him like that!” Spain snapped. Ready to separate the child and the man
The man shot him a puzzled glance as the boy slowly revived. Sniffling quietly, his small frame trembling.
And then he began to wail. As in wail. “I sowwy. I sowwy!”
His language regressed, his very behavior regressed. So, so very different from the persona just a few seconds ago. Instead of the excitable/mischievious boy. There stood a frightened, bunny-rabbit of a child. Hiding behind the elder nation the moment he was set back on the ground.
“I apologize for him.” The elder nation cleared his throat. “His people are still getting used to the whole unity thing. He’s still pretty unstable.”
He patted the boy’s head, ruffling that shock of coarse, raven-black hair.
“My name is Cuba. This country here is me. We’ve been waiting for you.” The man grinned.
“Wait, you’ve been what?!” Prussia screeched.
“Well, duh!” Yöëtsate chimed in. His personality chaning once more. “I meanm ya took long enough. We saw you coming for months now! Were you on a cruise or something?”
“Brat!” Cuba barked. “Why don’t you get outta here? The festivities are starting anyway.”
“It’s more fun here!” Yöëtsate whined.
“Leave or I tell Tony about the time you hi-jacked his flying saucer for a joy ride.
Yöëtsate squeaked, timid once more, and ran off in the direction of the music.
[2 or 3c/?] I thought it would be a good idea at the time [2 or 3 depends on who's asking/?]
anonymous
November 22 2009, 08:27:18 UTC
Cuba shook his head, turning to the Europeans. “C’mon. We’d best catch up with your party. They’re probably in the village square anyways.”
More confused than ever, the Europeans could only look at each other and shrug.
“Oh! But before we go anywhere!” Cuba, with a speed that stunned the explorers, attached a gadget, shaped like the tip of a finger, to their ears.
The Europeans tensed, expecting it to be some sort of attack. But all Cub did was tap little North Italy on the shoulder asking,
“Can you hear me now?”
The Italian nodded. “Si, si! You speak perfect Italian!”
Cuba nodded. “Good!”
“Italian? He was speaking French!” France cried.
“No, English, you frog!” England quick to retort.
“I thought he was speaking Spanish.” Spain mused.
“Sounded like German to me.” Prussia quipped.
“Tony just invented it. And it’s not available to the general public so don’t worry if you haven’t invented it yet. (Technicall we haven’t either so you’re still far more advanced than us) It’s called the LetMeHearYourHeart’sCry-kun(1). And before you ask. I did not name it. Aztec did.” Cuba shivered. “That woman terrifies me.”
“W-What does it do?” England pressed.
“Well, it translates everything you hear into your native tongue. And translates everything you say into my language.”
“That’s…” France blinked.
“Impressive, right? Well, it is Tony we’re talking about, y’know. He said it would be beneficial for you guys because you have all these different languages. I reall don’t get it. But anyways, it would be obsolete here.”
Spain furrowed his brow. “Why?”
“We all speak a Universal language around her. Or at the very least the nations that count.” Cuba smiled. “Now come on!”
Leading the rather stunned procession, Cuba brought them to the main square. Their eyes ready to pop out by the time they reached the grand celebration.
They saw many strange things. Many strange, fascinating things on their short tour through Cuba’s vast, awe-inspiring village. In reality, the village was in fact rather small. The boonies one might say. With one-story houses of plain, white walls and tiled roofs. Nothing too fancy. The occasionally square building that the Europeans guess was the public buildings. Libraries and such.
But it wasn’t the buildings that astound them. Or even the strange paths in which the Cubans have built for themselves. Black roads made of a strange material. Not stone or wood.Or extremely hard dried mud. (Even if it looked similar) With two smaller roads on each side, where people could walk. The side roads made of a strange material as well. Not wood, not earth, not mud, but looked very close to stone. Except it wasn’t stone.
No, it wasn’t paths, or the houses. But the people that astounded the Europeans. Everywhere they turned there such other-wordly sights to behold. Men riding two-wheeled cart that self-propelled itself. No horses to pull it! An odd humming sound could be heard as the strange cart tore down the road.
Romano’s eyes were practically glued to it.
“Ah, I see you like our new Moped!” Cuba smirked. “Yup. Newest model. A hot ride right? Bet you don’t have those anymore. I know Europe is a large place so you must have flying cars everywhere! But my island ain’t that big. We don’t need flying cars thanks. We’ll stick to the land.”
“Flying cars?” England echoed, obviously baffled.
“Oh you must call it something else huh? Yeah well. We call it cars here. Oh!” Cuba waved at a human man exiting on of the previously noted public buildings. “Bro! You ain;t staying for the festivities?”
“Sorry. I got this conference. Deadline. Y’know how those corporate hard-asses are.” The man sighed.
“Yeah, I get ya.” Cuba nodded. “I’ll save ya some booze.”
“You better.” And then queerly the man looked up to the sky. “Beam me up, Scotty.”
And just like that. The man vanished in a twinkle of light,
[2 or 3d/?] I thought it would be a good idea at the time [2 or 3 depends on who's asking/?]
anonymous
November 22 2009, 08:28:15 UTC
“That man! He just-! He just-!” France spluttered.
“Oh, sorry. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to party with you guys. I mean you guys are great and all. But y’know. Business is business.” Cuba apologized.
“W-W-Where did that man go?” Spain fearfully asked.
“Oh, to the East Coast.”
“East… Coast?”
“Yöëtsate’s country.” Cuba then heaved a tremendous sigh. “Geez, ever since that brat got his act together, the big, bad companies have been staking out there. He’s monopolizing the economy goddamn! And Aztec ain’t happy about it. Cuz, she was the previous Big Boss. Ah, what can you do.”
He rubbed his shoulders. “It hasn’t really affected me much. It just kinda pisses me off that we have to commute all the way to the East Coast. I mean thousands of miles? Hours of flight? I get jetlagged.”
“Thousands of miles…?”
“Hours of flight…?”
Good Lord, what kind of people were these strange savages?!
“Ah! Sorry to be a hold up. C’mon. We’re almost to the main square.” And off they went again.
They promptly arrived at the main square. The village once again being one of the smaller ones. Where there were som many things to look at, the Europeans didn’t know which way to turn first.
Prussia elbowed Spain, jabbing harshly into his ribs. “Let’s go find Chris, and get the the hell out of here. Before he does something stupid-!”
Luckily for the Europeans, their men stuck out like sore thumbs. Unluckily for them, their men stuck out like sore thumbs. So when dear old Christopher Columbus walked up to an unwitting native. Clapped a hand on the naked shoulder and promptly announced,
“Hey, these Indians aren’t so bad after all!”
The Europeans saw every single thing.
“-Like that. Before he does something stupid like that.” Prussia finished lamely.
Cuba blinked. “Did… Did your boy just call us Indians?”
“He also thought you were China!” Veneziano cheerfully chirped.
And for the very first time, Spain wanted to strangle little North Italy. Oh…. Shit.
The Italies (and France) were enraptured by the ‘pretty, pretty, shiny, shiny’ light. And Spain was awed by the child himself. Never mind the “shiny light.” But Prussia and England were yet to be impressed. The conquistadors, who were still very much in the vicinity thank you very much!, were baffled but shared the same sentiments. Psh, it made light. Big deal.
“So? What does it do?” England bluntly asked.
And the boy’s expression completely changed. A haunting smirk darkening his expression.
He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t you like to find out? Maybe by cutting off a limb or-!”
“Yöëtsate!”
The child nation yelped, swinging the lightsaber over his head. The weapon cutting straight through the trunk of the tree. The tree creaking loudly before falling backwards with an earth-shattering crash.
It was safe to say Prussia and England were impressed. The conquistadors along with them.
Yöëtsate, as the boy was now dubbed, leaped forwards in an attempt to escape but was caught by the collar of strange shirt. And none to gently hauled back.
“What have I told you about playing with the lightsabers? Look! You just killed a tree!” An elder man, also a nation, loudly reprimanded. Wresting the weapon from the young one’s grip.
(The conquistadors were hurriedly ushered by their self-appointed tour guides in that “nothing to see here” manner. The nations were thankfully left alone.)
Yöëtsate struggled fiercely. Almost animalistic in his behavior before the elder nation whacked him upside the head.
The European nations were rather shocked. Perhaps they were savages after all. A beluef reaffirmed by the child seeming to fall limp.
“Hey! Don’t hit him like that!” Spain snapped. Ready to separate the child and the man
The man shot him a puzzled glance as the boy slowly revived. Sniffling quietly, his small frame trembling.
And then he began to wail. As in wail. “I sowwy. I sowwy!”
His language regressed, his very behavior regressed. So, so very different from the persona just a few seconds ago. Instead of the excitable/mischievious boy. There stood a frightened, bunny-rabbit of a child. Hiding behind the elder nation the moment he was set back on the ground.
“I apologize for him.” The elder nation cleared his throat. “His people are still getting used to the whole unity thing. He’s still pretty unstable.”
He patted the boy’s head, ruffling that shock of coarse, raven-black hair.
“My name is Cuba. This country here is me. We’ve been waiting for you.” The man grinned.
“Wait, you’ve been what?!” Prussia screeched.
“Well, duh!” Yöëtsate chimed in. His personality chaning once more. “I meanm ya took long enough. We saw you coming for months now! Were you on a cruise or something?”
“Brat!” Cuba barked. “Why don’t you get outta here? The festivities are starting anyway.”
“It’s more fun here!” Yöëtsate whined.
“Leave or I tell Tony about the time you hi-jacked his flying saucer for a joy ride.
Yöëtsate squeaked, timid once more, and ran off in the direction of the music.
Reply
More confused than ever, the Europeans could only look at each other and shrug.
“Oh! But before we go anywhere!” Cuba, with a speed that stunned the explorers, attached a gadget, shaped like the tip of a finger, to their ears.
The Europeans tensed, expecting it to be some sort of attack. But all Cub did was tap little North Italy on the shoulder asking,
“Can you hear me now?”
The Italian nodded. “Si, si! You speak perfect Italian!”
Cuba nodded. “Good!”
“Italian? He was speaking French!” France cried.
“No, English, you frog!” England quick to retort.
“I thought he was speaking Spanish.” Spain mused.
“Sounded like German to me.” Prussia quipped.
“Tony just invented it. And it’s not available to the general public so don’t worry if you haven’t invented it yet. (Technicall we haven’t either so you’re still far more advanced than us) It’s called the LetMeHearYourHeart’sCry-kun(1). And before you ask. I did not name it. Aztec did.” Cuba shivered. “That woman terrifies me.”
“W-What does it do?” England pressed.
“Well, it translates everything you hear into your native tongue. And translates everything you say into my language.”
“That’s…” France blinked.
“Impressive, right? Well, it is Tony we’re talking about, y’know. He said it would be beneficial for you guys because you have all these different languages. I reall don’t get it. But anyways, it would be obsolete here.”
Spain furrowed his brow. “Why?”
“We all speak a Universal language around her. Or at the very least the nations that count.” Cuba smiled. “Now come on!”
Leading the rather stunned procession, Cuba brought them to the main square. Their eyes ready to pop out by the time they reached the grand celebration.
They saw many strange things. Many strange, fascinating things on their short tour through Cuba’s vast, awe-inspiring village. In reality, the village was in fact rather small. The boonies one might say. With one-story houses of plain, white walls and tiled roofs. Nothing too fancy. The occasionally square building that the Europeans guess was the public buildings. Libraries and such.
But it wasn’t the buildings that astound them. Or even the strange paths in which the Cubans have built for themselves. Black roads made of a strange material. Not stone or wood.Or extremely hard dried mud. (Even if it looked similar) With two smaller roads on each side, where people could walk. The side roads made of a strange material as well. Not wood, not earth, not mud, but looked very close to stone. Except it wasn’t stone.
No, it wasn’t paths, or the houses. But the people that astounded the Europeans. Everywhere they turned there such other-wordly sights to behold. Men riding two-wheeled cart that self-propelled itself. No horses to pull it! An odd humming sound could be heard as the strange cart tore down the road.
Romano’s eyes were practically glued to it.
“Ah, I see you like our new Moped!” Cuba smirked. “Yup. Newest model. A hot ride right? Bet you don’t have those anymore. I know Europe is a large place so you must have flying cars everywhere! But my island ain’t that big. We don’t need flying cars thanks. We’ll stick to the land.”
“Flying cars?” England echoed, obviously baffled.
“Oh you must call it something else huh? Yeah well. We call it cars here. Oh!” Cuba waved at a human man exiting on of the previously noted public buildings. “Bro! You ain;t staying for the festivities?”
“Sorry. I got this conference. Deadline. Y’know how those corporate hard-asses are.” The man sighed.
“Yeah, I get ya.” Cuba nodded. “I’ll save ya some booze.”
“You better.” And then queerly the man looked up to the sky. “Beam me up, Scotty.”
And just like that. The man vanished in a twinkle of light,
The Europeans were floored.
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“Oh, sorry. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to party with you guys. I mean you guys are great and all. But y’know. Business is business.” Cuba apologized.
“W-W-Where did that man go?” Spain fearfully asked.
“Oh, to the East Coast.”
“East… Coast?”
“Yöëtsate’s country.” Cuba then heaved a tremendous sigh. “Geez, ever since that brat got his act together, the big, bad companies have been staking out there. He’s monopolizing the economy goddamn! And Aztec ain’t happy about it. Cuz, she was the previous Big Boss. Ah, what can you do.”
He rubbed his shoulders. “It hasn’t really affected me much. It just kinda pisses me off that we have to commute all the way to the East Coast. I mean thousands of miles? Hours of flight? I get jetlagged.”
“Thousands of miles…?”
“Hours of flight…?”
Good Lord, what kind of people were these strange savages?!
“Ah! Sorry to be a hold up. C’mon. We’re almost to the main square.” And off they went again.
They promptly arrived at the main square. The village once again being one of the smaller ones. Where there were som many things to look at, the Europeans didn’t know which way to turn first.
Prussia elbowed Spain, jabbing harshly into his ribs. “Let’s go find Chris, and get the the hell out of here. Before he does something stupid-!”
Luckily for the Europeans, their men stuck out like sore thumbs. Unluckily for them, their men stuck out like sore thumbs. So when dear old Christopher Columbus walked up to an unwitting native. Clapped a hand on the naked shoulder and promptly announced,
“Hey, these Indians aren’t so bad after all!”
The Europeans saw every single thing.
“-Like that. Before he does something stupid like that.” Prussia finished lamely.
Cuba blinked. “Did… Did your boy just call us Indians?”
“He also thought you were China!” Veneziano cheerfully chirped.
And for the very first time, Spain wanted to strangle little North Italy. Oh…. Shit.
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Captcha: insight 1971. Good god, it knows
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Very nice fill, Anon! More soon, please?
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Oh Christopher~
CUUUUBBBAAAAAA!! AAAZZTECCC!!!!
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