Overcharge (2/?)
anonymous
August 23 2010, 00:44:07 UTC
Glaring and attempting to intimidate his way through the surge of curious attendees and wannabe celebrity reporters didn't work as well on common, unaware humans as it did their nations. Most just glared right back at him, sniffing at his 'rudeness' before planting their feet and turning back to the scene in the center of the room. The Russian foreign minister seemed to pause for a moment, translators trying to interpret the reason for the gift before the man simply delved into the gift, unwrapping it while reporters and photographers surged forward, snapping pictures of the woman's nervous pride.
Russia finally spotted a swaying lock of blond hair amongst the horde, that persistent bobbing cowlick that always caught his attention during meetings like an annoying gnat that you couldn't swat. For some reason that he couldn't fathom, Russia just couldn't leave America with the last word, with the parting jab and casual dismissal, and so, disregarding whatever measly trinket the woman had brought that was most likely made in one of Yao's sweat shops, Ivan stalked after the shorter nation as he exited the main room into the hallway.
As Russia finally disentangled himself from the crowd, laughter resounded through the air at whatever gift was within the green box. Striding quickly through the double doors Ivan caught sight of two men arguing down the hall, near the exit of the building. One was definitely Alfred, the eccentric waving of his hands and raised voice giving him away even from this far away. Ivan assumed the other man was the American's security or assistant, either way it was obvious he was trying to keep the young man from bolting out the door onto the dark streets of Geneva.
"Dear Alfred, fleeing already? Ah, reminds me so dearly of 1951, nyet?"
That definitely got the American's attention as he turned on heel, eyes glittering darkly at the hit a the Korean War. The assistant seemed fundamentally confused and worried as he tried to insert himself between America and Russia, both men seeming to puff themselves up while their muscles clenched and teeth ground together.
Wonderful adrenaline, hate and competition surged between the two of them, making the boringly diplomatic evening worth-while as they both elbowed the human to the side, not hard enough to harm him, but enough to get the message across. The security man seemed to hop indecisively from foot to foot before dashing down the hall as the two nations strode forward, chests nearly touching as the glared into each others face, insults ready to fly and fist clenching excitedly at their sides.
Arms wrenched back, mouths snarling as fists were thrown forward, seeming to fly forever, time swirling to a near-stop-
Click. It echoed in both their minds, a resounding sound of plastic sliding onto plastic. Their momentum and balance tumbled and turned, stomachs rising to their throats and hearts dropping down to their bellies. Eyes rolled and darkness all but slapped them upside the head as the superpower and ex-superpower crumpled to the floor without a single blow being dealt.
The last thing they heard was the sound of heavy feet pounding towards them and men shouting, a mixture of languages that neither man could decipher as their hearing fading out to the sound of deep murmuring and finally an empty, deep drone like the tide at Diomede.
Re: Overcharge (2/?)
anonymous
August 26 2010, 16:42:56 UTC
Ooooh, this looks very promising! I find it interesting that they find a thrill in their face-offs, though, considering the prompt. And what about their former friendship, in the 1800s? Do they remember it? They hit it off rather well then, it shouldn't be surprising that they make friends again, without their baggage to stop them. let's hope they don't stumble over history books, thoughXD
Russia is also interesting and more childish that America here, since he pushes for a confrontation. I can't wait to see the next chapter, authoranon!
Authoranon is gleeful over 1st comment~
anonymous
August 28 2010, 04:35:59 UTC
XD Thank you! I'll try to keep it enthralling~ Well, I know I get a kick out of watching a COld-War-generation Russian and American guys go at it. Anthony Bordane does it often and the go-between the two of them is hilarious XD SO I guess I just think that they would have a fun time trying to best each other *coughspaceracecough*
All will be revealed soon~~ I personally like making Russia just as childish as America, because they really are just big kids XD that's what makes the cold war so scary I think D: America was pretty snarky too, I been he brushed off the guy he was supposed to be repairing relations with!
Re: Overcharge (3/?)
anonymous
August 28 2010, 04:52:09 UTC
After 5 days of in a near comatose state, and 3 other days in observation, both nations were cleared to go home; the physicians deeming both in perfect health. The doctors passed it off as a bad hangover the symptoms similar: disorientation, mild amnesia of the meeting and intense nausea.
Alfred swore his body was purging itself of something, as he glumly stared at the trashcan next to the bed in his apartment.
"Whatever, whoever I pissed off, I'm sorry okay! Just let me eat...." he groaned, flopping back onto the mattress when the near constant sickness refused to yield it's rotten fruit. Bitterly he wondered if it was worse waiting to throw up his guts or actually performing the action.
He had an intense headache since waking up at the Genevian hospital with an infuriated England (he was totally worried, not that the Englishman would admit) struggling to slip past one of Switzerland's sturdy nurses.
It had been... odd and confusing.
The short man had eventually been allowed in, only to start shouting on and on about manners, dropping old grudges, and picking fights... like he was one to talk. The scolding was doing horrid wonders on his migraine that America did not quite appreciate coming from his ex-colonizer.
So, he told the old man to stuff it, clutching his aching head to ward of the stabbing pain that came with the shouting, his thumb found the nurse button on the side of the bed as his vision blurred and the room spun, or rather the young man seemed to waver and sway from his seated position.
"Hmph, I say, you never seem to bloody well care about the rest of us when you go picking fights with that goliath brute... this whole meeting was SUPPOSED to be about putting the past behind you and Russia, not starting a second bloody war. I swear, by the Virgin Mary, if you start something like that again, so help you God, I wil-"
The second half of Arthur's rant was cut off by Alfred intensely confused face, "Who? Artie, I haven't picked a fight with anyone since I got my Southwestern states from Mex...Hell, the last coupla wars were picked by you guys, not me....so who the hell are YOU talkin' bout...?"
For a moment the both shared the same look of confusion and bewilderment, but the moment was shattered by the nurse strong-arming the older man out of the room, insisting visitation hours were over in broken English.
He hadn't heard from the Englishman since, he face had been pretty pale on the exit so most likely he was off sulking and eating his own cooking.
Staring at the smooth ceiling above, Alfred twiddled his thumbs and wriggled his toes as he thought over England's words.
Russia.... Russia... the name was so familiar and yet... he couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before.... he let the name curl out from his lips, frowning afterwords. Something familiar came to mind with the name of his supposed adversary in England's drunken (more like senile)fantasy .... for some reason he kept thinking about Kansas...
--------- And so begins the fun. America brainstorming over England's words but how is Russia coping?
Re: Overcharge (3/?)
anonymous
September 22 2010, 01:20:26 UTC
The bile rising in his throat slapped America out of his reverie as he lurched over the ever-faithful wastebasket and proceeded to yak yesterday’s Spaghetti O’s.
Feeling tired, dirty, smelly, and all-around miserable the young nation dragged himself out of bed, despite the dizzy spells, to brush the sour after-taste out of his mouth.
The doorbell rang while he was in mid-brush, the thick foam of toothpaste dribbling down his chin, hoping Virginia had magically sensed his desperation and brought him a homemade apple pie he rushed to the door…. to find the head of the CIA and FBI on his doorstep.
“Ya know, the black suits and sunglasses make you guys stand out MORE… shouldn’t you be wearing jeans or somethin’?”
------------------------------------
Meanwhile, 50 miles north of Moscow, Russia was having a similar, if more extreme, experience. Practically everyone in his government who knew about him (and several that didn’t) was spread out throughout the old mansion.
They were checking through both the usable sections of the house and the portions that were covered in large white sheets to protect against dust in their disuse. Russia had no idea what the humans were looking for, they kept going on and on about this ‘American upstart’, spying equipment, and terrorist plots from him. Numerous physicians had come in and out to check on him at his government’s behest, but besides comments on his unusual eye color, a large-dose of aspirin, and recommendations to drink less or his liver will give out, they were no help.
As much as everyone around him kept fretting about and pointing out some translation error in a picture, Russia himself felt… good. The best in years. The weather outside was overcast but not foreboding or unsightly.
Leisurely, the ashy haired man walked through the mansion, glancing at paintings he half remembered being put up, and looking through large arched windows at the grounds, and the frozen fountains within them.
He thought about ice skating with his territories and federal subjects, ‘I haven’t had all 89 of them under one roof in years… it’d be nice to actually use all the rooms in here for once.’ Walking into one of the living rooms that was still in use, he started to dial around to his dependents.
-------------------------------------------
A/N *Just to clarify if I’ve referenced anything unusual, Alfred referenced the last war he triggered before the Cold War: the Spanish-American War which was mostly over the mistreatment of colonists in Cuba but expanded in the West as well. The Pacific Theater of WW2 could be considered as American-triggered but most Americans group it under WW2, and ergo, a European-derived conflict.
*The Russian Federation, when it first began, originally had 89 provinces, some merged so the number is now 83. I just refer to them all as provinces, though they are technically either a republic or oblast. I’m trying to subtly hint something here so I hope you guys see it…
Re: Overcharge (3/?)
anonymous
October 13 2010, 22:17:09 UTC
Please continue? You have me hooked, author!anon. I can't wait to see what comes next! Meeting again and getting to know each other all over and UNF the possibilities!
Overcharge (5/?)
anonymous
October 18 2010, 01:25:05 UTC
America wasn’t sure what the deal with the heads of the CIA and FBI was, one minute the were drilling him through his own history, the next minute they were making calls left and right, whispering amongst themselves like he wasn’t even there.
Quite frankly it was annoying him to no end, his awesome self was being left out of the loop… intentionally!
After a futile half hour of trying to squeeze info out of them Alfred was about retre- take a tactical break- when his cell phone rang a silly little tune that reminded him of chucking snowballs with the kids in Central Park.
Putting the phone to his ear, he barely had time to say “Hey Alex!” before he was barraged with inquiries to his health. Seriously, how’d the lil twerp know? His government had been keeping the blackout a hush-hush even from his own states… he had expected Cali or New York to find out first instead of Alaska.
The boy on the other end of the phone sounded out of breath after his rapid-fire string of questions and for a moment all Al could do was laugh lightly into the receiver.
“Hmph! This is what I get for worrying? Geez, go on and pass out again, next time I’ll pass it off as: ‘Oh, he’s just playing possum for attention, don’t mind him Madame President, just step over his incapacitated carapace.’”
After a couple of apologies, promises of hot chocolate when Alex arrived in New York City (cause apparently “I’m fine I promise!” didn’t cover it anymore), and rapid, angry, gesturing at the CIA head trying to listen in and record his conversation, Alfred finally hung up.
Of course that was only the beginning, as he opened his mouth to say “GREG, it’s rude to bug your own COUNTRY’s conversation with hiss own STATE” his phone began to vibrate, showing 16 missed calls and 5 texts.
Seriously, weren’t phones these days supposed to tell you about this kind of stuff? Maybe Greg had fiddled with his settings while he wasn’t looking…
-Meanwhile, back in Russia’s house-
Halfway through phoning his provinces to check up on them and their interest in regrouping for a banya or fishing, Russia received a call from his cell phone. Setting the home phone in its cradle, he checked the number before giving a small smile.
Re: Overcharge (5/?)
anonymous
October 18 2010, 04:28:54 UTC
...How in the world ...if they dont remember each other how in the world will Russia know Aleks isnt his anymore...did he just remember selling Alaska...to someone?
ANYWAY This is getting interesting and if Alaska figures it all out first before the first meeting then I wont be surprised because his the child of two master minds!
Russia finally spotted a swaying lock of blond hair amongst the horde, that persistent bobbing cowlick that always caught his attention during meetings like an annoying gnat that you couldn't swat. For some reason that he couldn't fathom, Russia just couldn't leave America with the last word, with the parting jab and casual dismissal, and so, disregarding whatever measly trinket the woman had brought that was most likely made in one of Yao's sweat shops, Ivan stalked after the shorter nation as he exited the main room into the hallway.
As Russia finally disentangled himself from the crowd, laughter resounded through the air at whatever gift was within the green box. Striding quickly through the double doors Ivan caught sight of two men arguing down the hall, near the exit of the building. One was definitely Alfred, the eccentric waving of his hands and raised voice giving him away even from this far away. Ivan assumed the other man was the American's security or assistant, either way it was obvious he was trying to keep the young man from bolting out the door onto the dark streets of Geneva.
"Dear Alfred, fleeing already? Ah, reminds me so dearly of 1951, nyet?"
That definitely got the American's attention as he turned on heel, eyes glittering darkly at the hit a the Korean War. The assistant seemed fundamentally confused and worried as he tried to insert himself between America and Russia, both men seeming to puff themselves up while their muscles clenched and teeth ground together.
Wonderful adrenaline, hate and competition surged between the two of them, making the boringly diplomatic evening worth-while as they both elbowed the human to the side, not hard enough to harm him, but enough to get the message across. The security man seemed to hop indecisively from foot to foot before dashing down the hall as the two nations strode forward, chests nearly touching as the glared into each others face, insults ready to fly and fist clenching excitedly at their sides.
Arms wrenched back, mouths snarling as fists were thrown forward, seeming to fly forever, time swirling to a near-stop-
Click. It echoed in both their minds, a resounding sound of plastic sliding onto plastic. Their momentum and balance tumbled and turned, stomachs rising to their throats and hearts dropping down to their bellies. Eyes rolled and darkness all but slapped them upside the head as the superpower and ex-superpower crumpled to the floor without a single blow being dealt.
The last thing they heard was the sound of heavy feet pounding towards them and men shouting, a mixture of languages that neither man could decipher as their hearing fading out to the sound of deep murmuring and finally an empty, deep drone like the tide at Diomede.
----
:O And so the plot thickens~!
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Russia is also interesting and more childish that America here, since he pushes for a confrontation. I can't wait to see the next chapter, authoranon!
Reply
All will be revealed soon~~ I personally like making Russia just as childish as America, because they really are just big kids XD that's what makes the cold war so scary I think D: America was pretty snarky too, I been he brushed off the guy he was supposed to be repairing relations with!
Reply
Alfred swore his body was purging itself of something, as he glumly stared at the trashcan next to the bed in his apartment.
"Whatever, whoever I pissed off, I'm sorry okay! Just let me eat...." he groaned, flopping back onto the mattress when the near constant sickness refused to yield it's rotten fruit. Bitterly he wondered if it was worse waiting to throw up his guts or actually performing the action.
He had an intense headache since waking up at the Genevian hospital with an infuriated England (he was totally worried, not that the Englishman would admit) struggling to slip past one of Switzerland's sturdy nurses.
It had been... odd and confusing.
The short man had eventually been allowed in, only to start shouting on and on about manners, dropping old grudges, and picking fights... like he was one to talk. The scolding was doing horrid wonders on his migraine that America did not quite appreciate coming from his ex-colonizer.
So, he told the old man to stuff it, clutching his aching head to ward of the stabbing pain that came with the shouting, his thumb found the nurse button on the side of the bed as his vision blurred and the room spun, or rather the young man seemed to waver and sway from his seated position.
"Hmph, I say, you never seem to bloody well care about the rest of us when you go picking fights with that goliath brute... this whole meeting was SUPPOSED to be about putting the past behind you and Russia, not starting a second bloody war. I swear, by the Virgin Mary, if you start something like that again, so help you God, I wil-"
The second half of Arthur's rant was cut off by Alfred intensely confused face, "Who? Artie, I haven't picked a fight with anyone since I got my Southwestern states from Mex...Hell, the last coupla wars were picked by you guys, not me....so who the hell are YOU talkin' bout...?"
For a moment the both shared the same look of confusion and bewilderment, but the moment was shattered by the nurse strong-arming the older man out of the room, insisting visitation hours were over in broken English.
He hadn't heard from the Englishman since, he face had been pretty pale on the exit so most likely he was off sulking and eating his own cooking.
Staring at the smooth ceiling above, Alfred twiddled his thumbs and wriggled his toes as he thought over England's words.
Russia.... Russia... the name was so familiar and yet... he couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before.... he let the name curl out from his lips, frowning afterwords. Something familiar came to mind with the name of his supposed adversary in England's drunken (more like senile)fantasy .... for some reason he kept thinking about Kansas...
---------
And so begins the fun. America brainstorming over England's words but how is Russia coping?
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Feeling tired, dirty, smelly, and all-around miserable the young nation dragged himself out of bed, despite the dizzy spells, to brush the sour after-taste out of his mouth.
The doorbell rang while he was in mid-brush, the thick foam of toothpaste dribbling down his chin, hoping Virginia had magically sensed his desperation and brought him a homemade apple pie he rushed to the door…. to find the head of the CIA and FBI on his doorstep.
“Ya know, the black suits and sunglasses make you guys stand out MORE… shouldn’t you be wearing jeans or somethin’?”
------------------------------------
Meanwhile, 50 miles north of Moscow, Russia was having a similar, if more extreme, experience. Practically everyone in his government who knew about him (and several that didn’t) was spread out throughout the old mansion.
They were checking through both the usable sections of the house and the portions that were covered in large white sheets to protect against dust in their disuse. Russia had no idea what the humans were looking for, they kept going on and on about this ‘American upstart’, spying equipment, and terrorist plots from him. Numerous physicians had come in and out to check on him at his government’s behest, but besides comments on his unusual eye color, a large-dose of aspirin, and recommendations to drink less or his liver will give out, they were no help.
As much as everyone around him kept fretting about and pointing out some translation error in a picture, Russia himself felt… good. The best in years. The weather outside was overcast but not foreboding or unsightly.
Leisurely, the ashy haired man walked through the mansion, glancing at paintings he half remembered being put up, and looking through large arched windows at the grounds, and the frozen fountains within them.
He thought about ice skating with his territories and federal subjects, ‘I haven’t had all 89 of them under one roof in years… it’d be nice to actually use all the rooms in here for once.’ Walking into one of the living rooms that was still in use, he started to dial around to his dependents.
-------------------------------------------
A/N
*Just to clarify if I’ve referenced anything unusual, Alfred referenced the last war he triggered before the Cold War: the Spanish-American War which was mostly over the mistreatment of colonists in Cuba but expanded in the West as well. The Pacific Theater of WW2 could be considered as American-triggered but most Americans group it under WW2, and ergo, a European-derived conflict.
*The Russian Federation, when it first began, originally had 89 provinces, some merged so the number is now 83. I just refer to them all as provinces, though they are technically either a republic or oblast. I’m trying to subtly hint something here so I hope you guys see it…
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Quite frankly it was annoying him to no end, his awesome self was being left out of the loop… intentionally!
After a futile half hour of trying to squeeze info out of them Alfred was about retre- take a tactical break- when his cell phone rang a silly little tune that reminded him of chucking snowballs with the kids in Central Park.
Putting the phone to his ear, he barely had time to say “Hey Alex!” before he was barraged with inquiries to his health. Seriously, how’d the lil twerp know? His government had been keeping the blackout a hush-hush even from his own states… he had expected Cali or New York to find out first instead of Alaska.
The boy on the other end of the phone sounded out of breath after his rapid-fire string of questions and for a moment all Al could do was laugh lightly into the receiver.
“Hmph! This is what I get for worrying? Geez, go on and pass out again, next time I’ll pass it off as: ‘Oh, he’s just playing possum for attention, don’t mind him Madame President, just step over his incapacitated carapace.’”
After a couple of apologies, promises of hot chocolate when Alex arrived in New York City (cause apparently “I’m fine I promise!” didn’t cover it anymore), and rapid, angry, gesturing at the CIA head trying to listen in and record his conversation, Alfred finally hung up.
Of course that was only the beginning, as he opened his mouth to say “GREG, it’s rude to bug your own COUNTRY’s conversation with hiss own STATE” his phone began to vibrate, showing 16 missed calls and 5 texts.
Seriously, weren’t phones these days supposed to tell you about this kind of stuff? Maybe Greg had fiddled with his settings while he wasn’t looking…
-Meanwhile, back in Russia’s house-
Halfway through phoning his provinces to check up on them and their interest in regrouping for a banya or fishing, Russia received a call from his cell phone. Setting the home phone in its cradle, he checked the number before giving a small smile.
“Ah, Aleks privet!”
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ANYWAY This is getting interesting and if Alaska figures it all out first before the first meeting then I wont be surprised because his the child of two master minds!
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