And Such Are The Consequences 2a/?
anonymous
October 28 2010, 06:39:16 UTC
Wow, thank you so much for all the kind compliments! You guys are awesome. 8D Even you, slightly creepy basement-locking anon. xD
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“And so then, then-you gotta hear what he says, man, it’s priceless, so then he says-ah, shit.” Denmark grabs the edge of the counter, steadying himself. Laughter and alcohol are a dangerous combination.
Netherlands is looking at him with that stupid expression of his-one part exasperation, one part amusement, and one part disbelief. “I think you’ve had enough, man. You’re gonna fall and kill yourself.”
Denmark snorts. “Shut up. I was downing mjød when you were still wetting yourself.” He rakes a hand through his hair, shoving it back out of his eyes. “And anyway,” he continues, pointing an accusing finger, “you don’t have any right to call me out. You’ve barely drunk anything.”
“Maybe ‘cause I don’t want to look like a bumbling dumbass like you, wise guy.” Netherlands shoves his half-finished beer over to Denmark. “Go ahead and have the rest. If I’m lucky, it’ll make you do something stupid and entertain me.”
Denmark takes the beer, confused. He would never, ever admit it, but out of the two of them, Netherlands had always been just a little bit better at holding his alcohol. Usually, when they went out drinking like this, Netherlands never lost a chance to one-up him and then rub it in his face. But apparently not tonight.
“Hey, you’re okay, right?” he asks without thinking.
Netherlands raises an eyebrow at him. “Yeah. Why?”
“I dunno. You’re just being weird. I mean, you gave me your beer, what’s up with that?”
Netherlands shrugs. He pulls a package of cigarettes from of his pocket and tugs one out. “Not in the mood to be drunk. That a problem?”
“No, ‘course not. Just wondering.” Denmark points at the cigarette. “That’s not really legal to have in here, y’know.”
“Does it look like anyone cares?” Netherlands jerks his head towards the rest of the crowd. At least five other people are smoking away.
“Okay, fair point.” Denmark considers making Netherlands share, but then remembers that he’s already given him half a drink free and decides that that’s good enough.
“You’re not mad at me, are ya?” asks Netherlands. It’s a very casual question, but even rather inebriated, Denmark finds it weird.
“Uh, no. Did I do something that made you think I was?”
“No, no. I was just thinking-y’know, that meeting with your little bro earlier today didn’t end too well, and you weren’t happy with me pestering him in the first place.” Netherlands blows a cloud of smoke across the table.
“Ah yeah, that.” Denmark frowns. “Poor Ice. He’s been pretty broken up about the whole thing. But I’m not mad at you, man. S’not your fault your government wants the money back. Honestly, I think England’s the one stressing Ice out.” His hand curls into a fist just thinking about it “I wanted to staple his face shut earlier.”
Netherlands snorts and takes a long drag on his cigarette. “Yeah.”
Denmark downs the rest of Netherland’s beer in a few sips. He’ll probably regret it tomorrow, but what the hell. He closes his eyes and smiles. A thousand years have passed, and he’s still the kind of guy who never wants to live anywhere but the present.
The thought makes him feel really sappy and stupid. “Netherlands, man, I’m so glad we’re bros.”
“Hmph, you’re drunk,” says Netherlands. His tone is derisive, but when Denmark opens his eyes, he sees an amused, but nevertheless genuine half-smile.
The world seems to have gone a bit shiny, Denmark notes. The dim bar looks several shades brighter than he remembers, and he can basically see his reflection in Netherlands’ eyes. Then Denmark nearly pitches off his seat trying to give his buddy a manly slap on the back-and between that and the shininess, he knows it’s time to declare he’s had enough and thunk his head down on the counter.
Re: And Such Are The Consequences 2b/?
anonymous
October 28 2010, 06:43:20 UTC
“Aren’t you a pretty little one.”
Iceland started with fear and surprise, accidentally dropping the piece of wood he’d been whittling. It slipped over the side of the boat and fell into the shallow ocean with a splash.
A stony-faced teenager was leaning against the ship’s wooden prow, knee-deep in seawater. “Hello,” he said. “You might recognize me as the one of the nations your brothers have been tormenting these past two centuries.”
Iceland said nothing, but his fingers tightened around the handle of his knife. How in Thor’s name had he let this guy sneak up on him like that? Norway and Denmark would be so disappointed with him.
“Are you Iceland? You must be Iceland. Why else would such a young thing be sitting in a barbarian ship like this?”
Suddenly, the other nation was pulling himself over the side of the boat. Iceland was frozen with fear, wondering if he was about to be beaten up for what he was, in fact, at that very moment waiting for Norway and Denmark to return from doing.
Iceland raised his knife as the other nation brushed himself off and sat down on the bench next to his, but all he got for his efforts was a dry chuckle. “Put that thing down, little one, you’ll hurt yourself. Look, I’m unarmed.” Two empty hands were held up to prove it. “My name is Netherlands, in case you didn’t know. Let’s talk awhile.”
Iceland slipped his knife back into its scabbard, but said nothing. Maybe, he thought, Netherlands was like Denmark. Maybe if you ignored him, he would go away.
“Now, that’s no way to behave. At the very least, you could say hello. It’s only polite.” Netherlands’ voice took on a sweet, persuasive edge. “Just say hello.”
“…Hello.” Suddenly, Iceland felt very, very shy.
“There you go, little one. I knew it was in you. I’ve given up all hope when it comes to your brothers, but you… you’re far too precious to grow up to be raiding delinquents like them.”
Precious. That was a strange word. Iceland had heard it before, yes, but never in reference to a person. Always to things. ‘Eat all your porridge, Iceland. Food is precious.’ ‘You won’t believe what we found on that last raid, Nor. Look at it, it’s precious!’ ‘When you’re older, Ice, I’ll teach you how to trade. It’s a precious skill.’
Netherlands slid quietly onto the bench next to him. “Isn’t Norway lucky to have found such a precious little thing?” he murmured.
***
Iceland wakes up trembling.
---
Sorry for the rather short update, I've been busy. Just so you guys know, I'm gonna try to update at least once a week, maybe twice if I can manage it. Thanks for reading! ^^
I love it when I stay up until three a.m. and awesome things like this happen.
Oh, Iceland... *hugs* Poor kid.
In a weird, twisted kind of way, I almost feel a little bad for Netherlands - he knows damn well he fucked up and he's going to DIE when the others find out... of course, he deserves it, so... xD okay, I need to go to bed now.
Re: And Such Are The Consequences 2b/?
anonymous
October 28 2010, 19:02:42 UTC
Ooooh some sympathetic vibes for Netherlands?? Does this mean this is going to be a fucked-up trainwreck where we get to feel bad for everyone involved, even our supposed "bad guy"? Because I dearly, dearly hope so!
slightly creepy basement-locking anon air-fists gleefully
anonymous
October 30 2010, 03:42:21 UTC
OMG YOU'RE THE THIRD or fourth AUTHORNON TO HAVE GRACED ME WITH MY OWN NICKNAME. WHY THANK YOU.
^^in case you care, the first one was after I made a comment that sounded like Poland and the author was all "I think Poland commented on my story..." and so I was dubbed the "Polanon"; the second time, I made another creepy MARRY ME comment; I'm pretty sure there's another one in there somewhere; and then you. Hmm, I should make weirder comments so people give me funny names more often c:
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“And so then, then-you gotta hear what he says, man, it’s priceless, so then he says-ah, shit.” Denmark grabs the edge of the counter, steadying himself. Laughter and alcohol are a dangerous combination.
Netherlands is looking at him with that stupid expression of his-one part exasperation, one part amusement, and one part disbelief. “I think you’ve had enough, man. You’re gonna fall and kill yourself.”
Denmark snorts. “Shut up. I was downing mjød when you were still wetting yourself.” He rakes a hand through his hair, shoving it back out of his eyes. “And anyway,” he continues, pointing an accusing finger, “you don’t have any right to call me out. You’ve barely drunk anything.”
“Maybe ‘cause I don’t want to look like a bumbling dumbass like you, wise guy.” Netherlands shoves his half-finished beer over to Denmark. “Go ahead and have the rest. If I’m lucky, it’ll make you do something stupid and entertain me.”
Denmark takes the beer, confused. He would never, ever admit it, but out of the two of them, Netherlands had always been just a little bit better at holding his alcohol. Usually, when they went out drinking like this, Netherlands never lost a chance to one-up him and then rub it in his face. But apparently not tonight.
“Hey, you’re okay, right?” he asks without thinking.
Netherlands raises an eyebrow at him. “Yeah. Why?”
“I dunno. You’re just being weird. I mean, you gave me your beer, what’s up with that?”
Netherlands shrugs. He pulls a package of cigarettes from of his pocket and tugs one out. “Not in the mood to be drunk. That a problem?”
“No, ‘course not. Just wondering.” Denmark points at the cigarette. “That’s not really legal to have in here, y’know.”
“Does it look like anyone cares?” Netherlands jerks his head towards the rest of the crowd. At least five other people are smoking away.
“Okay, fair point.” Denmark considers making Netherlands share, but then remembers that he’s already given him half a drink free and decides that that’s good enough.
“You’re not mad at me, are ya?” asks Netherlands. It’s a very casual question, but even rather inebriated, Denmark finds it weird.
“Uh, no. Did I do something that made you think I was?”
“No, no. I was just thinking-y’know, that meeting with your little bro earlier today didn’t end too well, and you weren’t happy with me pestering him in the first place.” Netherlands blows a cloud of smoke across the table.
“Ah yeah, that.” Denmark frowns. “Poor Ice. He’s been pretty broken up about the whole thing. But I’m not mad at you, man. S’not your fault your government wants the money back. Honestly, I think England’s the one stressing Ice out.” His hand curls into a fist just thinking about it “I wanted to staple his face shut earlier.”
Netherlands snorts and takes a long drag on his cigarette. “Yeah.”
Denmark downs the rest of Netherland’s beer in a few sips. He’ll probably regret it tomorrow, but what the hell. He closes his eyes and smiles. A thousand years have passed, and he’s still the kind of guy who never wants to live anywhere but the present.
The thought makes him feel really sappy and stupid. “Netherlands, man, I’m so glad we’re bros.”
“Hmph, you’re drunk,” says Netherlands. His tone is derisive, but when Denmark opens his eyes, he sees an amused, but nevertheless genuine half-smile.
The world seems to have gone a bit shiny, Denmark notes. The dim bar looks several shades brighter than he remembers, and he can basically see his reflection in Netherlands’ eyes. Then Denmark nearly pitches off his seat trying to give his buddy a manly slap on the back-and between that and the shininess, he knows it’s time to declare he’s had enough and thunk his head down on the counter.
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Iceland started with fear and surprise, accidentally dropping the piece of wood he’d been whittling. It slipped over the side of the boat and fell into the shallow ocean with a splash.
A stony-faced teenager was leaning against the ship’s wooden prow, knee-deep in seawater. “Hello,” he said. “You might recognize me as the one of the nations your brothers have been tormenting these past two centuries.”
Iceland said nothing, but his fingers tightened around the handle of his knife. How in Thor’s name had he let this guy sneak up on him like that? Norway and Denmark would be so disappointed with him.
“Are you Iceland? You must be Iceland. Why else would such a young thing be sitting in a barbarian ship like this?”
Suddenly, the other nation was pulling himself over the side of the boat. Iceland was frozen with fear, wondering if he was about to be beaten up for what he was, in fact, at that very moment waiting for Norway and Denmark to return from doing.
Iceland raised his knife as the other nation brushed himself off and sat down on the bench next to his, but all he got for his efforts was a dry chuckle. “Put that thing down, little one, you’ll hurt yourself. Look, I’m unarmed.” Two empty hands were held up to prove it. “My name is Netherlands, in case you didn’t know. Let’s talk awhile.”
Iceland slipped his knife back into its scabbard, but said nothing. Maybe, he thought, Netherlands was like Denmark. Maybe if you ignored him, he would go away.
“Now, that’s no way to behave. At the very least, you could say hello. It’s only polite.” Netherlands’ voice took on a sweet, persuasive edge. “Just say hello.”
“…Hello.” Suddenly, Iceland felt very, very shy.
“There you go, little one. I knew it was in you. I’ve given up all hope when it comes to your brothers, but you… you’re far too precious to grow up to be raiding delinquents like them.”
Precious. That was a strange word. Iceland had heard it before, yes, but never in reference to a person. Always to things. ‘Eat all your porridge, Iceland. Food is precious.’ ‘You won’t believe what we found on that last raid, Nor. Look at it, it’s precious!’ ‘When you’re older, Ice, I’ll teach you how to trade. It’s a precious skill.’
Netherlands slid quietly onto the bench next to him. “Isn’t Norway lucky to have found such a precious little thing?” he murmured.
***
Iceland wakes up trembling.
---
Sorry for the rather short update, I've been busy. Just so you guys know, I'm gonna try to update at least once a week, maybe twice if I can manage it. Thanks for reading! ^^
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Oh, Iceland... *hugs* Poor kid.
In a weird, twisted kind of way, I almost feel a little bad for Netherlands - he knows damn well he fucked up and he's going to DIE when the others find out... of course, he deserves it, so... xD okay, I need to go to bed now.
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Three a.m. kink meme-ing is the best. 8D
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^^in case you care, the first one was after I made a comment that sounded like Poland and the author was all "I think Poland commented on my story..." and so I was dubbed the "Polanon"; the second time, I made another creepy MARRY ME comment; I'm pretty sure there's another one in there somewhere; and then you. Hmm, I should make weirder comments so people give me funny names more often c:
BUT YES.
HAVE YOU AGREED TO MARRY ME YET?
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And I've decided that I will marry you on two conditions:
1) Basement is kept stocked with a supply of mashed potatoes.
2) I get a puppy.
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