Maybe Smile 3a/?
anonymous
March 21 2010, 20:30:02 UTC
Anon apologises for late update!
Had France walked in on England in a compromising situation with anyone else, his first reaction would be to sneer, make some lewd remark, and perhaps ask if he could join in. Russia, however, was not just anyone and seeing England in a compromising position with Russia of all possible people simply wiped the words from his mouth.
“Th- This,” England stuttered, burning bright red. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he struggled to his feet, raising his hands innocently.
“Oh,” France leaned against the doorpost, somewhat regaining his composure. “And what did it look like?”
“I’ll be joining you from now on,” Russia said with little regard to trying to clarify the situation. Unlike America, he was perfectly capable of reading the atmosphere; he simply chose to ignore it.
England scowled at the flooring. He had hoped to introduce Russia to the party in a much more natural, far less suspicious manner. Well, there were his hopes, shot down on the wooden boards of his tiny rented room.
“Not that I have any objections,” France ran a hand through his hair, “though may I inquire why?”
“N - None of your business!” England snapped. The last thing he wanted was for France to know about the huge blunder he had made. Even if France would think something lewd about the situation, he would rather let him be content with his dirty thoughts than to have him taunt him for incompetence.
Just as he predicted, France simply smiled in that exact manner which suggested that he was thinking of something particularly perverted and shrugged.
“Well, as long as there is no trouble, I do not particularly mind an extra addition to our party. But remember, Canada and America are soon to be joining us. I wonder what they will say to this new addition.”
England groaned and buried his head in his hands. He had almost forgotten about that. Canada would probably not say anything but he wondered how America would deal with Russia as an addition to their party.
XX
The answer to his question came fairly quickly as the twins arrived in the morning on horse-back. Canada was surprised to learn about their extra member, thoughtfully silent, but did not raise any objections. America, on the other hand, was decidedly unimpressed.
“So…” he asked with folded arms, “why is Russia here?”
“Let me explain to you, dear America,” France laughed, slinging an arm around America’s shoulders a little too close for comfort. “You see, this morning, I woke up to find that England had - ”
“Lies!” England screeched. His yell was loud enough to make the rafters above their head shake and every head in the tavern turn to him. Blushing bright red, he turned his head and muttered; “It’s all lies! Whatever comes out of his mouth is filthy slander!”
France laughed recklessly. “No need to be so uptight, England. After all, we all - ”
“No we don’t!”
America simply sighed, rubbing the point between his eyes with his fingers. He glanced once at Russia, who was still smiling through it all and, curiously, had a unicorn plush hanging from his battle axe like a lucky charm.
He then looked back at England, still lost in a heated argument with France. He did not trust this arrangement, especially when England simply blushed and stuttered something incomprehensible when asked how he and Russia met up with each other, but he could not find a reasonable argument with which to throw Russia out. England was adamant about him staying.
It was all so very suspicious.
Nevertheless, they somehow found themselves setting off towards the forest with their current party. The horses they sold in order to buy supplies and healing salves, keeping only America’s horse to carry their camping and cooking equipment.
Re: Maybe Smile 3a/?
anonymous
March 21 2010, 20:32:39 UTC
Fortunately, this new arrangement did not disturb the normal flow of things. Soon, England found himself slipping into a heated debate with America over something trivial, stopping only at times to punch France in the face whenever he tried to say something and ignoring Canada’s attempt to placate them. Russia trailed behind silently, leading the horse out of town and towards the forest that lay before their destination.
Even when they entered the forest, monster territory, and the ground grew bumpier and the road faded into nothingness, their journey continued undisturbed. They were not ambushed by bandits or suddenly caught in random encounters with the less-than-pleasant inhabitants of the forest and the day waxed on without a battle.
England imagined that their peaceful state of affairs was not to Russia’s liking, judging from how silent he had remained throughout their travels.
When they finally stopped to take a well-earned lunch break, England took the opportunity to drag Russia off into the bushes, claiming that they would “survey the area for enemies” and left the others as quickly as possible.
Once he was sure that he was out of earshot of the others, England turned back to Russia.
“You haven’t said a word all day,” he glanced at where Russia was surveying the surrounding forest, careful not to wander too far from where he stood.
“Oh?” Russia looked at him and took a seat on the fallen trunk of a tree.
England stood over where Russia sat, hands on hips, with a look of displeasure. “Don’t you want to know where we’re going?” he huffed.
“Ah, it does not matter much to me. I simply have to stay with you.”
England frowned. He was not sure if Russia was being purposefully difficult or simply sincere. “That doesn’t explain why you’ve been silent!”
“You would rather I talk? Loudly, yes? Like America?”
“No!” God forbid, one America was a big enough handful as it was. “It’s just…unnerving when you’re so quiet,” he muttered.
“Then you wish for me to talk because you are scared of me?” Russia asked quietly.
Sensing the tense air, England stiffened his shoulders. “I - I’m not scared of anything! Or anyone!” he stuttered, wishing he too could believe his words.
“Then I don’t understand - ”
“Idiot!”
“I wish that you would not call me that,” Russia’s voice simmered through the air, floating quietly, almost imperceptibly, through the sky whenever he spoke in low tones. “I simply did not feel the need to speak. I wasn’t sure what to say in any case, and I liked watching the four of you. So lively,” he smiled a little, though England thought that Russia was not very good at smiling when he meant it.
“If you had joined in you would probably have enjoyed it more. Although I’m not so sure what’s so enjoyable about arguing,” England added under his breath.
“It looked fun!” Russia insisted. “But…I would not know how to go about it.”
England shifted uncomfortably. Just how had he managed to get into another one of these conversations with Russia?
“I’m not too sure either. I’m not exactly an expert on…these kinds of things,” he replied awkwardly. Truth be told, he was not very good around people either. Even though he often complained about what a bother it was, he could be grateful that he had such well meaning idiots around him to drag him out of his hermit-like existence. He did not really like being lonely after all.
He opened his mouth - to say what, he was not quite sure - perhaps to say something comforting, but in that moment they heard footsteps and both turned, alarmed.
Canada pushed through the undergrowth, smiling when he was them. “England! Russia! There you are. The food is ready!” he called for them to return to the main camp.
Sighing Russia began to slowly rise, but England grabbed his elbow and pulled him up faster than he had intended.
Had France walked in on England in a compromising situation with anyone else, his first reaction would be to sneer, make some lewd remark, and perhaps ask if he could join in. Russia, however, was not just anyone and seeing England in a compromising position with Russia of all possible people simply wiped the words from his mouth.
“Th- This,” England stuttered, burning bright red. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he struggled to his feet, raising his hands innocently.
“Oh,” France leaned against the doorpost, somewhat regaining his composure. “And what did it look like?”
“I’ll be joining you from now on,” Russia said with little regard to trying to clarify the situation. Unlike America, he was perfectly capable of reading the atmosphere; he simply chose to ignore it.
England scowled at the flooring. He had hoped to introduce Russia to the party in a much more natural, far less suspicious manner. Well, there were his hopes, shot down on the wooden boards of his tiny rented room.
“Not that I have any objections,” France ran a hand through his hair, “though may I inquire why?”
“N - None of your business!” England snapped. The last thing he wanted was for France to know about the huge blunder he had made. Even if France would think something lewd about the situation, he would rather let him be content with his dirty thoughts than to have him taunt him for incompetence.
Just as he predicted, France simply smiled in that exact manner which suggested that he was thinking of something particularly perverted and shrugged.
“Well, as long as there is no trouble, I do not particularly mind an extra addition to our party. But remember, Canada and America are soon to be joining us. I wonder what they will say to this new addition.”
England groaned and buried his head in his hands. He had almost forgotten about that. Canada would probably not say anything but he wondered how America would deal with Russia as an addition to their party.
XX
The answer to his question came fairly quickly as the twins arrived in the morning on horse-back. Canada was surprised to learn about their extra member, thoughtfully silent, but did not raise any objections. America, on the other hand, was decidedly unimpressed.
“So…” he asked with folded arms, “why is Russia here?”
“Let me explain to you, dear America,” France laughed, slinging an arm around America’s shoulders a little too close for comfort. “You see, this morning, I woke up to find that England had - ”
“Lies!” England screeched. His yell was loud enough to make the rafters above their head shake and every head in the tavern turn to him. Blushing bright red, he turned his head and muttered;
“It’s all lies! Whatever comes out of his mouth is filthy slander!”
France laughed recklessly. “No need to be so uptight, England. After all, we all - ”
“No we don’t!”
America simply sighed, rubbing the point between his eyes with his fingers. He glanced once at Russia, who was still smiling through it all and, curiously, had a unicorn plush hanging from his battle axe like a lucky charm.
He then looked back at England, still lost in a heated argument with France. He did not trust this arrangement, especially when England simply blushed and stuttered something incomprehensible when asked how he and Russia met up with each other, but he could not find a reasonable argument with which to throw Russia out. England was adamant about him staying.
It was all so very suspicious.
Nevertheless, they somehow found themselves setting off towards the forest with their current party. The horses they sold in order to buy supplies and healing salves, keeping only America’s horse to carry their camping and cooking equipment.
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Even when they entered the forest, monster territory, and the ground grew bumpier and the road faded into nothingness, their journey continued undisturbed. They were not ambushed by bandits or suddenly caught in random encounters with the less-than-pleasant inhabitants of the forest and the day waxed on without a battle.
England imagined that their peaceful state of affairs was not to Russia’s liking, judging from how silent he had remained throughout their travels.
When they finally stopped to take a well-earned lunch break, England took the opportunity to drag Russia off into the bushes, claiming that they would “survey the area for enemies” and left the others as quickly as possible.
Once he was sure that he was out of earshot of the others, England turned back to Russia.
“You haven’t said a word all day,” he glanced at where Russia was surveying the surrounding forest, careful not to wander too far from where he stood.
“Oh?” Russia looked at him and took a seat on the fallen trunk of a tree.
England stood over where Russia sat, hands on hips, with a look of displeasure. “Don’t you want to know where we’re going?” he huffed.
“Ah, it does not matter much to me. I simply have to stay with you.”
England frowned. He was not sure if Russia was being purposefully difficult or simply sincere. “That doesn’t explain why you’ve been silent!”
“You would rather I talk? Loudly, yes? Like America?”
“No!” God forbid, one America was a big enough handful as it was. “It’s just…unnerving when you’re so quiet,” he muttered.
“Then you wish for me to talk because you are scared of me?” Russia asked quietly.
Sensing the tense air, England stiffened his shoulders. “I - I’m not scared of anything! Or anyone!” he stuttered, wishing he too could believe his words.
“Then I don’t understand - ”
“Idiot!”
“I wish that you would not call me that,” Russia’s voice simmered through the air, floating quietly, almost imperceptibly, through the sky whenever he spoke in low tones. “I simply did not feel the need to speak. I wasn’t sure what to say in any case, and I liked watching the four of you. So lively,” he smiled a little, though England thought that Russia was not very good at smiling when he meant it.
“If you had joined in you would probably have enjoyed it more. Although I’m not so sure what’s so enjoyable about arguing,” England added under his breath.
“It looked fun!” Russia insisted. “But…I would not know how to go about it.”
England shifted uncomfortably. Just how had he managed to get into another one of these conversations with Russia?
“I’m not too sure either. I’m not exactly an expert on…these kinds of things,” he replied awkwardly. Truth be told, he was not very good around people either. Even though he often complained about what a bother it was, he could be grateful that he had such well meaning idiots around him to drag him out of his hermit-like existence. He did not really like being lonely after all.
He opened his mouth - to say what, he was not quite sure - perhaps to say something comforting, but in that moment they heard footsteps and both turned, alarmed.
Canada pushed through the undergrowth, smiling when he was them. “England! Russia! There you are. The food is ready!” he called for them to return to the main camp.
Sighing Russia began to slowly rise, but England grabbed his elbow and pulled him up faster than he had intended.
“Shall we start by eating together?”
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Please do continue, Writer!anon. I'll be camping here...
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