hetalia oneshot || some days are dangerous;
horrible conversations between horrible people end up in things like this XD
title: Some Days Are Dangerous
characters: Prussia, Germany, China, Austria, Hungary, Satan
rating: PG-13
summary: After an eventful morning, Prussia decides it's time to start his Day of Awesomeness. Ain't really a sure plan, but it has something to do with penguins, grilled cheese, and a battle with Austria, and may or may not end with Jail for Prussia.
It was hot out- the heaviness of summer burning through white sun, and the heat was too thick to move in. There was only a dull dry breeze sifting through the trees and a sleeping feeling that blinded the senses. Prussia was walking through the halls like it was nobody’s business- alternately sighing with dissatisfaction and lazing, limbs reckless, across any surface he deemed fit. Sofas, chairs, coffee tables, televisions- none were safe on a shiftless day like this.
You could see, by the metallic glint of his manic eyes, maybe, that he was on the verge of awesome, stellar plans- but the only intimations he made were secret smiles and bouts of ringing laughter. Just that laugh made Germany nervous- put a caged feeling in the middle of his chest, tensed his limbs and precluded thought. It never meant anything good, and against the summer silence it was just all the more worse.
Just after breakfast he was doing the dishes, drying them with a clean towel and putting them away with a methodical ease; that laugh rang out again, and a bad feeling stuck thick in the back of his throat. Laughter thick with blood and bad intentions...punctuated by the occasional hurried fragment: "I’VE GOT IT, aha!" or "Hell yes!"- words too low for clarity and too high to ignore.
Germany rolled his eyes subconsciously -Prussia was probably just looking for attention again, looking for Germany to walk into the living room and go, "Oh, what might you be laughing about dear brother?" But Germany had no time for Prussia’s inanities, so he finished up the last dish haphazardly and rounded into the living room with a chiding in mind.
Prussia was lying on the coffee table, flipping wildly through a magazine. Everything that had previously been on the table was now forgotten, scattered, on the floor- the remote, the big pretentious coffee table book, the bills, God even the flowers- and Germany’s teeth clenched. "Oi, Brother!- wha- what’s this all about!" Germany bit, fixing his eyes on Prussia.
Prussia looked indolently up from the magazine- the crook of a smirk in his criminal’s smile. "Eh, what’re you naggin’ about now?" he said (seemed to laugh).
Germany sighed. "Do you have to cause destruction wherever you go?" Prussia was clearly about to reply with a vehement "YES," but Germany held up a hand dismissively- moved to at least put the things on the floor in a coherent pile. "Honestly, what have you even been doing this morning?"
Prussia let out a sharp laugh; "I’ve been planning," he said, rolling onto his back and throwing the magazine at the television.
"S-STOP THAT!" Germany barked, and Prussia just fell into another ringing bout of laughter.
"Seriously- you do absolutely nothing around here but make messes and fill up the rooms with...weird things!" Germany exclaimed, picking up the magazine and throwing it at Prussia.
"Hey, watch it you delinquent! Don’t damage the goods!" Prussia replied indignantly, pushing the magazine carelessly away. Germany shook his head and continued to clear the things on the floor- counting to ten, maybe, or a hundred, because there really was no other way to deal with this.
A mildly curious look passed into Prussia’s eyes; he grinned vaguely- turned over on his side and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Germany like he was a lowly subject. "So, West," he began, words slow and taunting, "You wanna know what I was planning about?"
Germany was about to say "not entirely," but he knew that would land him a spot in Prussia Hell for a day; much as he was irritated by his brother he did not want to end up on his shitlist. So instead, he opted for a calm exhalation in words- "I suppose it’s something ‘awesome’," he replied, which was suitably vague. Hanging around Japan had many good points.
Prussia tilted his head back a bit and threw off an acidic chuckle. "That it is, West, that it fucking is," he said, blade in tongue.
Germany looked up at Prussia; Prussia just seemed to beam, to be filled with excitement for some thought. Germany’s eye twitched. "Well, then, out with it."
"I was planning just how the awesome me is going to spend his day," Prussia replied, heaving a contented sigh, like he was looking in the mirror and beholding how great he was. "It’s not easy you know."
"Oh?" Germany answered, standing up.
"Fuck no," Prussia scoffed, turning over on his back to look up at Germany. "Can you imagine how difficult it is to plan twenty-four successive hours of pure win? It’s a process, West, a process."
"It’s lucky then that you sleep for half that time."
"See, that is where you fail," Prussia responded; in a lithe movement, Prussia reached over to the nearby couch and snatched a pillow; then continuing the liquid machinery, threw it at Germany. Germany was caught off guard, but grasped it just in time. It was always mysterious to him that Prussia could move easy as light, as steel predestined- shouldn’t it be illegal for such a horrible person to be physically capable? Well, whatever. Prussia looked dissatisfied that Germany had caught the pillow but carried on. "Because tonight, I don’t plan on sleeping." He raised his eyebrows, gave Germany a slim glance.
Germany tensed at his glance but Prussia just made a noise that spat disinterestedly. "I’d invite you," he shrugged, "But you’re clearly not awesome enough to hang around me."
Germany rose an eyebrow. "Just as well." He paused. "You have no work to do today, brother?"
"Nope! The awesome me has his schedule cleared," Prussia replied, words easy, making an emphatic gesture.
"That’s good," Germany answered, and poked Prussia in the head. "For starters, then, you can get off the coffee table." He rose his leg and started to kick a little at Prussia, to nudge him off the table.
Prussia hissed and whined like a snake uncoiled, rolled up the magazine and attempted to beat away Germany’s boot. "Christ, West, I told you don’t damage the goods! I need to preserve myself- where else are you going to find as awesome a specimen as- you’re so fat- alright, goddamn! I’ll get up! You old lady," Prussia said spitefully. Germany seemed satisfied; he settled back and watched Prussia. Prussia wasn’t one for quiet exits, though, so he jumped up from the table like a mattress spring, careening into the television and cackling manically as he tumbled down- tangle of limbs, and the dull thud-
"P-PRUSSIA, goddamn you, what are you doing!" Germany barked, senses immediately electric colored- on high red alert, as it were, and he rushed over to assess what damage had been done, and to help Prussia up- what if he had broken a leg, or if something had shattered and- ?
But Prussia just continued laughing, coughing, got up with as much easy force as he always had; seemed to spin around as he sprang up, like some asylum ballerina, and kicked Germany square in the shin. Germany whirled around and attempted to grab Prussia by the back of his shirt as he ran, but to no avail- Prussia was outta there, and he punctuated his destruction with a victor’s laugh. "That’s what you get for messin’ with me, West! Maybe one day when you grow up you’ll learn not to fuck around!"
"You little- hey, where the Hell are you going!"
"I’ve gotten enough of an awesome start," Prussia replied, with a snake bite in his voice, turning around to face Germany- fool’s gold eyes and cemetery hips, "I’m off to start my day of AWESOME!"
Germany’s words stopped in his throat- choked as he was scrambled in the ruins of Prussia’s retardedness. "A- at least clean your room!" he managed to get out.
"NEVARRR!" Prussia shrieked insanely, like a pirate on the run, and sprinted up the staircase with chants of laughter trailing behind him.
It was quiet in the wake of Prussia’s wreckage; Germany tried to decipher whether he was having a heart attack or a lobotomy.
"Pfft, I don’t need a fucking Mewtwo," Prussia grumbled irritatedly, tossing his Gameboy Advance aside, "I am a fucking Mewtwo."
Okay, so maybe the PokeAwesome was off the list for today, but that could only mean that this shit wasn’t awesome enough for him. He wasn’t a doctor or anything, but that was a clear scientific conclusion.
He hadn’t actually made an ordered list of what he was going to do today- there were more ideas, impressions, floating around his brain. No particular idea was apparent right now, so he sat stilly for a moment, wondering what next.
So much awesome to be executed, so little time...there wasn’t much to do around the house, so he figured he’d explore a little bit. That was always a good idea. He pushed himself up from the bed and started off down the stairs.
...Bumped into Germany on his way out. "Hey, watch where you’re going," Germany said low, holding Prussia by the shoulder.
"No you," Prussia replied, snappily.
Germany looked over Prussia- his face fell immediately, as if he’d just found out he was doomed. "Wha- what- why are you dressed like that!?"
"Like what, West?"
"What do you mean ‘like what’!? Your shirt is tied around your arm! Your pants are basically falling off...What the Hell- you look crazy!" Germany balked, untying the shirt quickly.
"Oh, that," Prussia laughed sardonically, reaching up to pat Germany on the head condescendingly. "Don’t worry, West- I know it’s hard for you to comprehend how great I am- I’m surprised you haven’t fucking imploded, by now, actually-"
"Never mind that- put your shirt on!" Germany commanded, throwing the shirt at Prussia.
"Pffttt, I’m hot," Prussia whined.
"I don’t care- put it on."
"Fine then, Mom- Christ, you’re a nag," Prussia replied, pulling his shirt over his head. He straightened it out- looked back at Germany with a crooked grin, with a fluorescent flash in his eyes. "So? How great do I look?"
Germany rose an eyebrow. "You still need to comb your hair."
"You know, I wouldn’t be offended if you had the hots for me," Prussia replied, "Now move, West, I’m going out."
"Ah, you are? Please call me if you get into trouble- try not to get too drunk," Germany answered, wiping some sweat off his brow with a quick swipe, moving into the kitchen (also completely ignoring Prussia’s previous statement- he’d been hanging around ridiculous people so long he’d learned to tune it out).
"I wasn’t gonna get drunk yet- ain’t a bad idea though," Prussia said, and then followed Germany into the kitchen, "How much beer we got?"
And so it was an hour later that Prussia finished his war with the neighborhood squirrels (having decided he’d won when he actually landed a rock on one of their tails, and that he would win either way because they were too scared to acknowledge that there was a war), semi-buzzed but not quite twisted. He walked along the curbside, humming some memory song; tossed his last beer bottle into the street with a flick of the wrist, cutting movement cool into air, sang, "Seen the morning light/ It’s not ’cause I’m an early riser/I didn’t go to sleep last night..." A car honked down at his delinquency and he gave it the finger.
"My money comes and goes- comes and goes...what were the next words?...fuck, I’m too awesome for singing," he decided, talking in low rhythm to himself, when-
"Aiyaaa, aru, is that Prussia?" he heard from somewhere behind him.
He whipped around- he recognized that voice- that bastard China..."The Hell do you want?" he spat.
"Oh, I was just passing through- surprising to see you alone, though, aru!" China replied.
"Yeah, not many people as great as me to hang around with," Prussia answered. "What’re you doing in my house, anyway?"
China replied with a pause of the eyes; then a small sigh. "Oh, I was trying to sell some things-" Then another pause, but it wasn’t quiet at all- it snapped like electricity and smiled like pure evil. "No luck so far, though...it’s very unfortunate, aru..."
Prussia arched an eyebrow and laughed like sin. "Hah, it prolly sucks, that’s why! If I was selling something, it’d definitely sell."
"Ah, is that so, aru?"
"Fuck yeah! I’m a genius, that’s why."
China thought for a bit. "Then, your advice on this? If you’re a genius, you should be able to help, aru," he continued, swinging a large bag from his shoulder over to the ground. He pulled a drawstring, opened it up- then sent a questioning glance to Prussia.
Prussia’s eyes narrowed, but he shrugged and walked over anyway. Inside the bag was...little palm-sized stuffed animals- little penguins, to be exact...had wide spacey eyes, round heads and bodies, puffed out stomachs. Prussia looked up at China. China looked back at him. Prussia looked back down at the stuffed animals. His eye twitched.
Then he began to laugh- low, but it built up to a high nervous cackle. "Hah! That- does suck," he scoffed, looking to the street.
"Oh, my mistake, then, aru," China replied, taking one out of the bag and examining it with marked insouciance. "That’s too bad- I thought that they’d be cute- you know, cute, aru," he continued, "And they could do this, as well..." Prussia’s eyes darted back to China, who squeezed the penguin’s stomach- triggering a flapping motion in the wings.
Prussia paused. "Aha-haha! That’s so lame," he coughed. "Man, how dumb."
China noticed the shaking of Prussia’s hands; China was a wise old man, and knew how to bide his time. "Oh, really, aru?"
"Ya really," Prussia spat, vehemently, and it sounded more like "go away" than "ya rly."
"Huh. Well, have a nice day, Prussia," China answered, and began to make his way past Prussia, moving with faultless grace.
Prussia watched China retreat, feeling small and helpless. If only he could- then he’d be awesome again- "Wait!" Prussia called.
China pivoted on his heel, eyebrows raised. "Yes?"
"I- what are you gonna do with them? I mean, they obviously ain’t gonna sell," Prussia responded.
Oh, so he was playing his own game? That was fine, then. China knew he could play it better. "Well, aru, I can’t have it be a total loss, so I’ll probably send them so that the materials can be recycled, aru," China replied. He held a penguin in his hand with a look of terse melancholy. "So many little penguins...sent to become sofas...it’s sad, aru, to say the least."
Prussia leaned forward imperceptibly- seemed to be on the verge of words...but China just turned again. "Well then, goodbye, aru."
"WAIT-HOW-MUCH-ARE-THEY," Prussia blurted out, catching China by the collar.
China turned around with just this sunshine smile on his face, rainbows in his eyes. Prussia felt defeated again by this China character. "How much do you have, aru?"
So one hundred stuffed penguins and zero euros later, Prussia sat on a curbside hotly planning revenge on China- that bastard had overcome him twice! Once was already too much, but twice!? How the Hell...He breathed in the heat and exhaled an angry smoke...but he got down to thinking. He felt his honor was repaired being the new owner one hundred awesome penguins, and besides it was his Day of Absolute Win- vengeance, he decided, could wait. He was still feeling sort of crappy, though, so he decided to cheer himself up by harassing cyclists on the road.
Even just a couple would do- like hunted game, like coins in your hand...he waited, perched at the rounded curb at the end of the block, behind some bushes. This required much stealth and skill, and he was just the man to do it. He held a stick in his hand and waited.
Finally a bicyclist came around the bend- some teen geek with a helmet and a yellow sport suit. Perfect candidate. The movements were fluid, were confident- the fucker was so sure that it was just another day. But that was where he was wrong. Because today was Prussia’s day.
And so he would take full advantage of it. The cyclist was directly in sight; he bent his arm back just so, and pounced out of the shrubbery, tossing the stick at the biker- hopefully it would land where he wanted...the movement was fluent even under the outlaw sun, and he paused on a job well done.
It landed where he wanted, after all- right in the spokes of the front wheel. The wheel locked, and the panic was apparent on the kid’s face- washed over gray, but he managed to get off in time- he pushed himself off and collided with the concrete on his side, and the bike (front wheel locked, still in motion) flipped over shortly, the bell giving a dull tinkling sound as the thing hit the ground.
Prussia paused- then collapsed into manic laughter, eyes throwing off an insanely amused
light, shrank onto the sidewalk and rolled around in complete ecstasy at a job well-executed.
The cyclist had no idea what to do. He paused; his face passed emotions from "what the fuck?" to "dude, WHAT?" and finally ended at "that fucker!" He nursed a bleeding knee and whipped out his cell phone from a fanny-pack type thing. "I’m calling the police, you asshole!"
"AHAHA- THEY’LL NEVER GET ME!" Prussia responded with a burning laugh (voice in all caps), picked up his bag of penguins, and ran like a madman all the way home.
All the way home, because he decided it was time to have some fuckin’ lunch. "HEY, I’M HOME!" he yelled. "Oi, West, where are you?"
"Welcome back- I’m in my office," Germany responded, calling from some obscured room.
"Well, come into the kitchen, I have something t’ tell you," Prussia called back, swinging his bag of penguins over his shoulder with reckless grace.
"Fine- just a second."
Prussia swung into the kitchen, tossed his penguins onto the counter- sat at one of the seats by the counter, posture lax and casual. He tapped out a half-thinking beat on the marble, fingers twitching with impatient blood. "OI, West!" he called, and as if on cue Germany came through the doorframe.
"Yeah, I’m here already," Germany responded. "Now, what did you have to tell me?"
"I’m hungry," Prussia responded, leaning on the counter.
Germany’s posture just fell- the look on his face darkened with irritation. "Make yourself something, then!" he snapped, beginning to turn back out of the kitchen.
Prussia laughed sardonically. "Do I look like a chick to you?"
"I’m not a woman!" Germany protested.
"But you are my slave," Prussia corrected with a devil’s grin. Germany paused. Prussia laughed.
"...If I make you something," Germany reasoned, "Will you leave me alone for the rest of the day?"
"We’ll see- if it’s good," Prussia answered. He cocked an eyebrow, eyes suddenly suspicious. "Why the Hell would you want that for? I’m so awesome."
"That’s the whole reason," Germany said flatly. "What do you want me to make, anyway?"
"GRILLED CHEESE," Prussia responded with vigor, pounding his fists on the table and rapping out an excited rhythm.
"Al-alright, just calm down," Germany said irritatedly, leaning down and getting a frying pan from the cupboard.
"And don’t forget- two slices, don’t fucking gyp me because you did that last time," Prussia said, pointing accusingly at Germany as the flicker and spark of the stove turned on. "If you make it with one slice I’ll throw you out the window."
"Alright, two slices, I get it," Germany answered.
"Make sure to cut off the edges."
"What’s wrong with the edges?"
"Fuck outta here," Prussia said with a note turned down in his voice. "They suck ass, that’s what’s wrong with them."
"That’s a waste," Germany pointed out, getting sliced cheese out of the fridge.
"Your face is a waste," Prussia sang, sighing a little. Germany rolled his eyes and continued to prepare Prussia’s kindergarten meal.
"What’s that bag, anyway?" Germany asked after a spell of summer silence, indicating the bag on the counter with a glance.
Prussia paused and let out a condescending laugh. "It’s a secret- you’re not awesome enough to know," he said.
"Penguins?" Germany responded, raising his voice a little over the hiss of butter in the frying pan.
Prussia looked at Germany, eyes widened- he leaned back a little on his chair. "What the Hell? How did you know that!?" he balked, more like it was a command.
Germany shrugged. "You have everything else- penguins were the only marketable animal left."
Prussia paused, then shrugged. "Well, my awesome factor went up by like five thousand points by buying them," he answered, "Technically I’m invincible now."
"Is that how it works?" Germany asked.
"Damn straight," Prussia nodded. He paused. "Hey now, I hear all this talkin’, but I’m not getting any fuller- you slackin’ off on the job now?"
Germany paused, shaking his head. "For a full-grown adult, your attitude is beyond me," he remarked, moving to get a plate from the cupboard. He set it down on the counter, flicked the stove off- grilled cheese slid off the pan and onto the plate, making a slick sheen as it went. He cut it in half with a half-thinking movement and tossed the spatula into the sink.
There was a slight desire to say something like, "here’s your Happy Meal, Sir," as Germany set the plate down in front of Prussia, but he restrained himself. "Get me a beer while you’re at it," Prussia said, pointing to the fridge haphazardly.
"Jeez, what are you, three years old?" Germany scoffed, but went to the refrigerator anyway to grab Prussia a bottle of beer- got one for himself, as well, and turned back to see Prussia staring at his plate with an eyebrow raised, as if to say "Oh, really, now?"
"What is it?" Germany asked, putting the beer on the counter.
"Hell naw I ain’t gonna eat this," Prussia said, pushing the plate away. "Congratulations, West, you officially fail. You eat it if you want."
Germany’s eye twitched. "What the Hell! What’s wrong with it now? I used two slices and I cut the edges off-"
"Squares, West? Really? Squares? I thought I raised you better, but clearly I was mistaken," Prussia said, opening the bottle by striking it against the counter at a slight angle- the cap popped off with a snap, made a small tinny noise as it dropped to the floor.
Germany paused as he opened his beer. Squares? What did that mean, sandwiches were always square-...oh. "Are you by any chance being picky because I didn’t cut the sandwich into triangles?"
"Bingo, genius."
"Oh please, is it really inedible now?"
Prussia’s mouth turned in a surly line. "Squares? West, that’s so gay," he said, throwing back a gulp of beer. He finished up and sent a mad glance at Germany. "So guess what, you get to make me another one!"
"I’m not making you another one- if you don’t want that one, make one yourself," Germany answered, eyes flat.
Prussia cast an irritated look to Germany and grudgingly took the plate. "Fine then. Fuck you, you’re fired," he grumbled.
Germany rolled his eyes but decided to let it go for now. They talked for a little bit ("hey, where’s little Italy at?" "...nowhere that I’d tell you" "oh-ho, is that a challenge?"), Prussia devouring his grilled cheese sandwich and Germany watching with mild wonder. "Is that bag full of penguins, though?" Germany asked, leaning against the counter.
"Hell yes!" Prussia replied through a mouthful of food, slamming his hand down on the bag, producing a small chorus of squeak.
"...How many, exactly?"
"That bastard China said a hunnerd," Prussia answered, shrugging, throwing back the last of his beer.
Germany paused- he knew full well that there was absolutely no space for an army of penguins in the house. He really did not want to feel like he was drowning in penguins when it got time to clean. "Well, I don’t want to burden Austria but...why don’t you...take some over there?"
Prussia paused- Germany, for a moment, almost regretted saying that- if only for the sudden glitter in Prussia’s eyes, if only for the pause like electricity that was filled with a mad grin. "Yeah-...I think I will take some over there."
Germany’s eyebrows became knit in worry, eyes reflected a sudden vigilance in the shading of the blue- he watched as Prussia got up from his place with a sudden jump. "...Are you planning something?"
Prussia reached up to pat Germany on the shoulder, with a hidden malice in his smile. "Don’t worry about it, West," he said, then chuckled a bit.
"Don’t do anything stupid-"
"I just remembered something, is all," Prussia responded, and took his bag of penguins, slung it over his shoulder.
Germany raised his eyebrows slightly. "Just don’t do anything that might-"
"I SUMMON," Prussia began to yell, "PENGUINI!" And with that he made a lightning move to reach inside the bag of penguins and throw one at Germany’s face, as though to pose some obstacle. Germany yelled something in the way of, "What the Hell!", but Prussia was too quick for him, and was crashing through the door in two seconds flat.
...Well, at least he was glad to be rid of Prussia for the time being- which was what he thought, until he heard a knock on the door. "What now?" he asked himself, picking up the penguin and placing it on the counter.
He went to the door- two men in uniform stood coolly in the frame. "Afternoon, Sir- we received reports of a red-eyed, light-haired delinquent harassing a cyclist on this street earlier today..." It seemed to Germany that his situation with Prussia was similar to that of his with Italy- they would never leave him alone. Ever.
He moved with purpose, running over to Austria’s house- but he got a bit sidetracked on the way- happened to spot two girls with attitude and spice in their hips and he had to stop for a chat ("Lemme call my wingman Clooney- George Clooney, that is"; "George Clooney? You don’t really know him, why is you lyin’?"; "Pfft, ’cause if I fuckin’ did, he couldn’t compare, chickie"). But then he remembered just as quick, and left them in the wake of his awesomeness as he began on the trail once again.
The dry white heat was slowly fading from its throne of wind, was dissolving into cool pink evening. Austria’s house was standing pristine and faceless- among flowers, against the darkening sky. Prussia sat across the street, at a distance, plotting with a menacing smile.
What should he do first? He scanned over the house again. Everything about it was thoroughly fancy and therefore breakable, so it was hard to decide. But just as Rome wasn’t built in a day, Austria sadly was not destroyed in one. So, start from the top. The weathervane on the roof was clearly a monument to everything fruity in the world, but he didn’t really feel like going out of his way at the moment; and besides, it had to be something quick for the immediate effect. The twin balconies were also clearly stupid and artsy looking, but he didn’t have a bomb on him right then so that was out of the question. He needed the door for later, as well as the windows, so that was a no-go. He could wreck the shrubbery, it looked really stupid...or he could take a piss on the stoop or something...he scanned around mechanically- well, piss it was, then- he unzipped his pants and started to get up-
But wait. His eyes flickered lazily back toward the lawn, toward something pretentious and fruity that he’d seen there. The mailbox. He rose an eyebrow. Who needed a mailbox that fucking beautiful? It looked like fucking butterflies and unicorns floated out of it- like you’d turn into rainbows and bubbles if you touched it. All intricate shapes made of metal, gold accents, the address painted on the side in sweeping, windy script...damn that was a homosexual mailbox. If he’d ever seen homosexual, that was it.
Change of plans- Prussia got up casually from his place at the curb, zipping up his pants and walking at an even, easy pace. He knew about stealth- he was pretty much a goddamn ninja to his thinking, and an awesome one at that. He peered up at the windows briefly. There didn’t seem to be anybody who could look on, and half the curtains were drawn because Austria was a priss like that. A nocturnal waltz danced breezy from an open window as he approached.
The first shock of contact began with a soccer player’s perfect kick and eventually ended with beating the living shit out of the metal frame with the wooden post it had previously been standing on. That was just the way Prussia rolled.
Hungary stirred a little at the banging noises coming from far away- a dull percussion punctuated with incoherent garbled sounds. She poked her head out the entrance to the parlor and looked around. "Austria," she called down the hall, "are you cooking something?"
Another sound seemed to stop- she realized he’d been playing the piano and flushed red with embarrassment. "Oh, no, I’m not- why?"
"N-no reason!" she spat back and brought her book back up to her face, suddenly flustered- she wouldn’t want to offend Austria, but it did sound like bombs were going off when he cooked.
...The noises still persisted, though, so she got up from her place and looked out the window...and found she could only see flowers and bushes. Austria was...artistic, and that led to small impracticalities, she supposed. She moved over to the parlor entrance to poke her head out again. "Austria?"
The airy whips of piano notes faded and then stopped. "Yes?"
"Do you hear that?"
A pause down the hall. "What is that?" he seemed to ask himself.
"It sounds like it’s coming from outside," Hungary replied, leaning on the doorframe, omitting the "it can’t be inside because you’re not cooking" part.
"...I’ll take a look, then," he replied, and she heard the vague sounds of his movements obscured in the quiet air. She paused- half of her knew she was probably better for the job, but the other half smiled quietly at this show of gentlemanliness. It would be alright, anyway; she could always tell if Austria was lost, and could probably distinguish his screaming better than that of other people, so if he fell into trouble she’d be right there.
And anyway, down the hall, Austria’s fingers tapped against the starched clean fabric of his pants- he could feel melody coursing through his hands, but he had to deal with this small interruption first. Irritating, to say the least, but obligations were obligations.
The noises seemed to stop altogether when he crossed into the foyer; he opened the door, and the first thing he noticed was the magic of the summer air breathing breezes into his mind. He looked around, closed the door behind him. There was nobody here...nothing seemed to be wron-
What the Hell!? His mind cracked as he saw- his mailbox lying dead on the lawn, severed from the wooden post and bent into a semi-circle, with the small flag abandoned the bit of pavement that led from the sidewalk to the door. Who- would have done something like that? He actually knew quite a few people who would do something so stupid and irrelevant through either malice or carelessness, but at the moment he did not care for trying to figure out who. He didn’t step near the mailbox; his first thought was to call someone to have another made, so he turned back inside...but wait, what was this paper?
With some trepidation he took down the piece of paper tacked to the door, the instinctual thought flashing through his mind that perhaps it was something form the government- maybe his mailbox was violating some code...but no, the paper felt like common printer paper and it was handwritten. In fact, he recognized this handwriting- narrow and scratchy, barley legible- he looked closely at it:
DEAR STUPID (AUSTRIA)
YOU HAVE HEREBY BEEN EVICTED FROM THE UNIVERSE. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BRING ANYTHING WITH YOU. TAKES EFFECT: IMMEDIATELY. GET OUT. JUST GO.
-AS ORDERED BY KING PRUSSIA-
King Prussia.
Black light immediately cracked in Austria’s mind, and a bad biting feeling curled in the back of his throat. He really should’ve guessed it was Prussia- but it would have been much less trouble had it just been something like America accidentally destroying their mailbox while having a fight with England, or something like that. That was much less trouble than anything Prussia could ever do.
Austria counted his breaths, remained fairly calm as he pulled open the door. "Hungary, could you-" he started to call, but a shatter and crash broke through his words with such a crystalline violence that he whipped around in surprise.
Prussia was standing in the middle of the street, a cigarette hanging limply out of his mouth...with a collection of concrete blocks in his left arm and an ominous looking bag at his feet. Austria looked past his shoulder- the remains of his window were glittering in the evening sunset, uselessly lying on the grass. He narrowed his eyes and looked toward Prussia.
"You IDIOT," Austria began, walking toward him, "What are you doing now? Must you be so inane?"
Prussia’s eyes flickered fast toward Austria. He grinned, and his cigarette fell out of his mouth; he dropped the concrete blocks as if he’d immediately forgotten about them, and swooped down to pick up his bag. "Hey, prissface!" he said, walking toward Austria with an intent swagger that made Austria hate him even more. "Didn’t I tell you you were evicted from the universe?"
"I- shut up, that’s not funny! Just what is the meaning of this!" Austria exclaimed, fists curled indignantly at his sides.
"You!" Prussia responded, pointing at Austria demandingly, "Happened to catch me on my Most Awesome Day of the Week."
"I thought you were always awesome," Austria answered, rolling his eyes.
"This is true," Prussia nodded, "But y’see I have ordained today the day where all the world will bend like light inwards towards my epicness. It started with just me being badass- you wanna know how it ends?" He tilted his head up- heavy eyes shaded in red, something carnivorous in the lights playing on his face.
Austria rose an eyebrow. "How, then? I’d suspect that compensation for my broken mailbox and window would be included, moron," he responded.
"It ends," Prussia said, stepping closer, "With this." Austria recoiled at Prussia’s grin; Prussia pointed at Austria again and began to laugh. "I declare WAR on you, Austria!"
"Oh, for Heaven’s sake, this is ridiculous," Austria said, rolling his eyes, "You are SUCH a moron-"
But he was stopped short by a flurry of stuffed penguins attacking him on all fronts- Prussia had opened the bag and was propelling them at Austria like rapid fire; they made a dull squeaking noise as they hit him, and he backed into the house against the barrage of penguins. "What are you doing! Stop this at once!" he commanded, shielding his face with his hands.
Prussia let out a blood-choked laugh and replied, "‘We’ve had this date from the very beginning!’"
"Don’t- quote- literature- when you can’t- read!" Austria protested vehemently- words punctuated by short silences in which he was getting pummeled by stuffed penguins.
Austria didn’t know exactly what to do- there was no possible way he could overcome Prussia physically, so he’d have to rely on the fact that Prussia was a chimpanzee who’d undergone a lobotomy many, many years ago. He eventually collapsed under the flurry of penguins, and now on the floor, swept his leg under Prussia’s feet swiftly- Prussia stumbled, lost his balance; then fell to the floor similarly with a pointed, "OWCH!"
But that seemed to have the opposite effect on Prussia- instead of backing down he just got more riled up, seemed to be happy that Austria was upping the ante and responded with a ringing laugh- then reached in the bag for another penguin, and began to hit Austria in the stomach with it-
After a minute or so it seemed that Austria might give up- after all, he prided himself on being practical, so he didn’t mind being a quitter- and Prussia could see victory and epic win written on the horizon. A firefly floated in from the open door, and the sun’s light had almost vanished from the sky-
And then a shadow was cast over them, and movement seemed quick and unreadable, like a paintsplash across the eyes. It went something like this:
"H- Hungary!"
"Oh shit, she’s here?"
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO AUSTRIA!? HOW DID ALL THESE PENGUINS- WHAT IS THIS I DON’T EVEN-"
"HUNGARY PLEASE-"
A flash, a shadow, a bang:
"Oh shit- !"
Germany had politely told the cops that he would report it immediately if such a person appeared, and had subsequently decided that when Prussia got home he was going to beat the ever-loving shit out of him. Prussia was a formidable foe, but Germany was pretty sure that he was one of the two people who could easily kick his ass, the other being America, who didn’t even count because he was a Transformer. After that small upset, he had talked to Italy on the phone, finished up work and had dinner- and now here he was, reading Amerika by low lamplight and collecting his thoughts at the end of the evening. If Prussia showed up after he went to bed, he’d just kick the shit out of him when he woke up in the morning.
He turned a page, and the sound of the doorbell rang hollow through the house. He swore, if this was the cops again...which in all likelihood it was, or it could be Italy, having forgot something like how to tie his shoes. He bookmarked his place and got up; the ringing became quick and persistent, so he called, "Yes, I’m coming!" over the noise. Honestly, who needed to talk to him so badly that they had to ring the doorbell that much?
He opened the door- paradise sounds of crickets and chanting and the cool breeze crashed into the house. It was Austria, and Hungary beside him...they appeared to be holding...a log. With red eyes. And smoky hair.
Prussia grinned at the look of irritation that passed over Germany’s face, and then laughed- continued on a chant of "WIN WIN WIN WIN WIN." Oh. So that was the chanting.
"He’s been saying that ever since we tied him up," Hungary groaned.
"Oh- I- uhm- come in- I guess," Germany said, stepping aside. They began to come into the house, but Germany stopped them. "Oh, I’m sorry, let me get that," he said, moving to take one end of the captured Prussia. Austria was a bit offended that he took his end and not Hungary’s, but that was just the way it always seemed to work, he guessed.
There was a nervous silence on Germany’s part and an irritated hush on Austria-Hungary’s part as they walked inside, and Prussia just kept laughing and saying, "Pwned! I won! You stupid bastards," and other things like that. Germany and Hungary tossed Prussia on the couch like a prize ham, and then the three sane people got down to talking about the odd situation at hand.
"So...eh...what, er, happened here?" Germany asked, very formally, crossing his arms.
Austria cast a spiteful glance to Prussia, who stuck his tongue out. "That one came to my house, destroyed my mailbox, broke my window, and proceeded to attack me with penguins," he replied heatedly.
The beginning of the sentence struck a deep worry in Germany, but he had to stifle a laugh at "proceeded to attack me with penguins"; Prussia seemed to be the only one to catch the slight snicker, though. Prussia grinned at his place on the couch. "‘I am not a criminal, for I destroyed a bad man,’" he quoted with a sweetness that was malicious.
Hungary literally growled and went over to the couch, beating on Prussia with a rain of fists. "Don’t-quote-Gavrilo-Princip-around-us!" she hissed. Germany made no move to stop her, because firstly, Prussia deserved it, and secondly, she was frightening when angered. But Prussia just laughed and called her a man.
"I’m deeply sorry for that," Germany said, directing his eyes toward Austria.
"I regret nothing!" Prussia interjected spiritedly, and Germany turned around to smack him on the head.
"Yes, well, I’m expected that this one should pay for the damages done," Austria replied, folding his arms.
"Yes, of course," Germany nodded.
Austria rose an eyebrow. "Furthermore it seems to me that this may be your fault as well." Germany was about to interrupt with a "WHAT?" but Austria poked him in the chest sharply. "You need to keep a closer eye on this degenerate."
"Just lock him in the attic," Hungary suggested, looking pointedly at Prussia, "Like you do with most crazy people."
"So, in conclusion, I am expecting money, and...keep your brother on a leash, or something to that effect," Austria said, beginning to turn away. Hungary followed him on the way out, giving Prussia a deathglare before she went.
"Al-alright," Germany said, following them out. "Again, I’m very, very sorry..."
"I AM NOT A CROOK!" Prussia called from the living room- the sound of his voice followed by a dull thud.
Germany locked the door behind them and came back into the living room, not knowing anymore. He was between kicking the shit out of Prussia and just untying him and saying goodnight because this was all just too much...when he came back into the living room, Prussia was on the floor, trying to struggle out of captivity. Germany looked down at him, folded his arms expectantly- but then noticed that Prussia was covered in welts and cuts. Ouch. Leave it to Hungary...
Germany sighed and made his way over to Prussia. "To what extent do you have to do these things?" he asked, reaching around to undo the knots at Prussia’s back. "Is it imperative? Is there some necessity here that I’m not aware of- ?"
"Someday, you’ll understand," Prussia replied, with that very sweet condescension in his voice that made Germany roll his eyes.
"I’m sure. Here, you’re free," Germany said, standing up and looking at the one of the makeshift rope in his hand- it seemed to just be...a lavender silk tablecloth. Ah. So this did come from Austria’s house.
Prussia laughed about something, and that laugh struck Germany sharp- like he was suddenly remembering something, and on that memory he whirled around and kicked Prussia right in the stomach. Prussia doubled over, but seemed to grin. "What is the matter with you!" Germany said, but it seemed hopeless. He tried to double his efforts, came up with, "And listen- stay in the house tonight. Don’t go out. I know you want to but I don’t want to have a heart attack this evening."
Prussia looked up at Germany. His expression seemed to quiet, seemed to pout under a cool shadow. Germany recognized that resigned look. He bit his lip. "Wha- what’s wrong, now?"
"I don’t know," Prussia replied. There was a bit of evening quiet; Prussia let off a scoffing sound, sharp from behind his teeth. "I mean- if I don’t go out- I won’t be able to finish my day of awesome."
Germany recognized this play too. But what could he do? This was his brother. He knew why he did the things he did, and only he understood his reasons. He helped Prussia up, scowling deeply. "Well...get cleaned up before you go out," was all he said, turning toward the bathroom to get alcohol and cotton swabs, and he didn’t see the grin on Prussia’s face but he could very damn well feel it.
And so they charged through casa, straight out of the warmth of the house and into the soda lights of the outside- the jewels and the heat of murder on a vibrant night. Prussia flung a cheeky smirk back to Germany. "You used to fall for that shit when you were little, too," he said. Germany rolled his eyes yet again, and Prussia let out an acid laugh. "‘Oh, West, I’m so lonely!’" he imitated, and doubled over laughing. "Oh, God, you were such a sucker- ‘Okay, Prussia, I’m sorry’- aha, and you’re still the same! What a damn sap."
"You are lonely, though," Germany replied, something like a joke, stepping in tandem with Prussia as they drifted through the night crowd, the jackal traffic lights.
"Hell if I’m lonely! Fuck that, I don’t need anybody," Prussia yelled. Germany paused. Prussia walked ahead of him, and Germany felt his footsteps slow. Prussia, lit like a wolf at every passing streetlamp- Prussia who in the cheap lights seemed hungry and breathless, laughing and lying, always with the sting of blood in the way he moved. Germany knew why he was the way he was, and only he understood. How could Prussia- by instinct a soldier, by mind a general, by heart a vagrant- exist inside a world of peace?
Germany exhaled sharply, as Prussia looked across the street to a lit-up sign reading, "THE AFTER PARTY: 12 AM." Prussia spat on the sidewalk, said, "Bitch, I am the after party," kicking a mailbox and starting again on his wild, windless walk.
Prussia looked back at Germany. Germany tensed at the vibrant red- like a web, like a bullet stream. "West," he said, slowly, "Your life would suck without me."
"Oh?" Germany responded, mouth straightening, "That would be because you consistently cause me trouble, make messes, and act physically and verbally violent toward me and everyone else around you."
Prussia rose an eyebrow. "Who the fuck are you kidding? You’re a masochist- you like getting the shit kicked out of you, you sicko," he replied, and then shrugged- stopped, waited for Germany to catch up. "And I am just the badass to do the job."
"That’s mildly sickening," Germany answered, but smirked.
"Yeah, I’m sure. Kid, you gotta loosen up," Prussia said, throwing his arm haphazardly over Germany’s shoulders. "Here’s a lil’ exercise- ‘Prussia is SO FUCKING AWESOME.’ Say it like that."
Germany shook his head. "I’m not going to say that. Don’t be irritating."
"Ah, you won’t? That’s fine, then, drinks’re on you!" Prussia bit, and with a movement fluid as barrel and trigger, pushed Germany to the side- kicked him toward a door, and Germany was just quick enough to put out his arm, so that he went through. It hurt, and it was dark in here and smoke and sound was suddenly filling his senses heavily, but he still had to laugh.
His brother, he’d admit, was a bit awesome.
After a night of effectively getting shitfaced, they came back to the dark house, and Germany made pancakes with clumsy, drunken hands and laughs as Prussia "sobered up with another beer" and the sun rose, cutting through pearl gray and spilling pale honey yellow across the shadows of the kitchen. Yeah, Prussia was awesome- but if he ever had another day like this, God help them all. He grinned secretly to himself, and mused on what an awesome fucking day it had been, looking forward to pancakes and some sleep.
NOTES;;
1] The song he's singing is Walkin' Down the Line.
2] "I SUMMON PENGUINI!" is from Italian Spiderman.
3] Amerika is a novel by Franz Kafka. About a European immigrant in America escaping the scandal of being seduced by a housemaid. Sound familiar? THAT'S BECAUSE IT IS THE STORY OF HRE AND CHIBITALIA, ROFLROFLROFLROFLROFLROFL
4] sorry for the previous outburst. but not really.
5] "Don't-quote-Gavrilo-Princip-around-us!" = Gavrilo Princip assassinated Austrian duke (was it duke? archduke? is that even relevant) Franz Ferdinand, thus triggering WWI and more indirectly WII.
6] "I AM NOT A CROOK!" = RICHARD NIXON 8DDDD
well, if you enjoy similar Prussia lolz and toys from the 90s, watch for tupelo_thief's upcoming Prussia-centric fic.
Thanks for reading! ;D
title: Some Days Are Dangerous
characters: Prussia, Germany, China, Austria, Hungary, Satan
rating: PG-13
summary: After an eventful morning, Prussia decides it's time to start his Day of Awesomeness. Ain't really a sure plan, but it has something to do with penguins, grilled cheese, and a battle with Austria, and may or may not end with Jail for Prussia.
It was hot out- the heaviness of summer burning through white sun, and the heat was too thick to move in. There was only a dull dry breeze sifting through the trees and a sleeping feeling that blinded the senses. Prussia was walking through the halls like it was nobody’s business- alternately sighing with dissatisfaction and lazing, limbs reckless, across any surface he deemed fit. Sofas, chairs, coffee tables, televisions- none were safe on a shiftless day like this.
You could see, by the metallic glint of his manic eyes, maybe, that he was on the verge of awesome, stellar plans- but the only intimations he made were secret smiles and bouts of ringing laughter. Just that laugh made Germany nervous- put a caged feeling in the middle of his chest, tensed his limbs and precluded thought. It never meant anything good, and against the summer silence it was just all the more worse.
Just after breakfast he was doing the dishes, drying them with a clean towel and putting them away with a methodical ease; that laugh rang out again, and a bad feeling stuck thick in the back of his throat. Laughter thick with blood and bad intentions...punctuated by the occasional hurried fragment: "I’VE GOT IT, aha!" or "Hell yes!"- words too low for clarity and too high to ignore.
Germany rolled his eyes subconsciously -Prussia was probably just looking for attention again, looking for Germany to walk into the living room and go, "Oh, what might you be laughing about dear brother?" But Germany had no time for Prussia’s inanities, so he finished up the last dish haphazardly and rounded into the living room with a chiding in mind.
Prussia was lying on the coffee table, flipping wildly through a magazine. Everything that had previously been on the table was now forgotten, scattered, on the floor- the remote, the big pretentious coffee table book, the bills, God even the flowers- and Germany’s teeth clenched. "Oi, Brother!- wha- what’s this all about!" Germany bit, fixing his eyes on Prussia.
Prussia looked indolently up from the magazine- the crook of a smirk in his criminal’s smile. "Eh, what’re you naggin’ about now?" he said (seemed to laugh).
Germany sighed. "Do you have to cause destruction wherever you go?" Prussia was clearly about to reply with a vehement "YES," but Germany held up a hand dismissively- moved to at least put the things on the floor in a coherent pile. "Honestly, what have you even been doing this morning?"
Prussia let out a sharp laugh; "I’ve been planning," he said, rolling onto his back and throwing the magazine at the television.
"S-STOP THAT!" Germany barked, and Prussia just fell into another ringing bout of laughter.
"Seriously- you do absolutely nothing around here but make messes and fill up the rooms with...weird things!" Germany exclaimed, picking up the magazine and throwing it at Prussia.
"Hey, watch it you delinquent! Don’t damage the goods!" Prussia replied indignantly, pushing the magazine carelessly away. Germany shook his head and continued to clear the things on the floor- counting to ten, maybe, or a hundred, because there really was no other way to deal with this.
A mildly curious look passed into Prussia’s eyes; he grinned vaguely- turned over on his side and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Germany like he was a lowly subject. "So, West," he began, words slow and taunting, "You wanna know what I was planning about?"
Germany was about to say "not entirely," but he knew that would land him a spot in Prussia Hell for a day; much as he was irritated by his brother he did not want to end up on his shitlist. So instead, he opted for a calm exhalation in words- "I suppose it’s something ‘awesome’," he replied, which was suitably vague. Hanging around Japan had many good points.
Prussia tilted his head back a bit and threw off an acidic chuckle. "That it is, West, that it fucking is," he said, blade in tongue.
Germany looked up at Prussia; Prussia just seemed to beam, to be filled with excitement for some thought. Germany’s eye twitched. "Well, then, out with it."
"I was planning just how the awesome me is going to spend his day," Prussia replied, heaving a contented sigh, like he was looking in the mirror and beholding how great he was. "It’s not easy you know."
"Oh?" Germany answered, standing up.
"Fuck no," Prussia scoffed, turning over on his back to look up at Germany. "Can you imagine how difficult it is to plan twenty-four successive hours of pure win? It’s a process, West, a process."
"It’s lucky then that you sleep for half that time."
"See, that is where you fail," Prussia responded; in a lithe movement, Prussia reached over to the nearby couch and snatched a pillow; then continuing the liquid machinery, threw it at Germany. Germany was caught off guard, but grasped it just in time. It was always mysterious to him that Prussia could move easy as light, as steel predestined- shouldn’t it be illegal for such a horrible person to be physically capable? Well, whatever. Prussia looked dissatisfied that Germany had caught the pillow but carried on. "Because tonight, I don’t plan on sleeping." He raised his eyebrows, gave Germany a slim glance.
Germany tensed at his glance but Prussia just made a noise that spat disinterestedly. "I’d invite you," he shrugged, "But you’re clearly not awesome enough to hang around me."
Germany rose an eyebrow. "Just as well." He paused. "You have no work to do today, brother?"
"Nope! The awesome me has his schedule cleared," Prussia replied, words easy, making an emphatic gesture.
"That’s good," Germany answered, and poked Prussia in the head. "For starters, then, you can get off the coffee table." He rose his leg and started to kick a little at Prussia, to nudge him off the table.
Prussia hissed and whined like a snake uncoiled, rolled up the magazine and attempted to beat away Germany’s boot. "Christ, West, I told you don’t damage the goods! I need to preserve myself- where else are you going to find as awesome a specimen as- you’re so fat- alright, goddamn! I’ll get up! You old lady," Prussia said spitefully. Germany seemed satisfied; he settled back and watched Prussia. Prussia wasn’t one for quiet exits, though, so he jumped up from the table like a mattress spring, careening into the television and cackling manically as he tumbled down- tangle of limbs, and the dull thud-
"P-PRUSSIA, goddamn you, what are you doing!" Germany barked, senses immediately electric colored- on high red alert, as it were, and he rushed over to assess what damage had been done, and to help Prussia up- what if he had broken a leg, or if something had shattered and- ?
But Prussia just continued laughing, coughing, got up with as much easy force as he always had; seemed to spin around as he sprang up, like some asylum ballerina, and kicked Germany square in the shin. Germany whirled around and attempted to grab Prussia by the back of his shirt as he ran, but to no avail- Prussia was outta there, and he punctuated his destruction with a victor’s laugh. "That’s what you get for messin’ with me, West! Maybe one day when you grow up you’ll learn not to fuck around!"
"You little- hey, where the Hell are you going!"
"I’ve gotten enough of an awesome start," Prussia replied, with a snake bite in his voice, turning around to face Germany- fool’s gold eyes and cemetery hips, "I’m off to start my day of AWESOME!"
Germany’s words stopped in his throat- choked as he was scrambled in the ruins of Prussia’s retardedness. "A- at least clean your room!" he managed to get out.
"NEVARRR!" Prussia shrieked insanely, like a pirate on the run, and sprinted up the staircase with chants of laughter trailing behind him.
It was quiet in the wake of Prussia’s wreckage; Germany tried to decipher whether he was having a heart attack or a lobotomy.
"Pfft, I don’t need a fucking Mewtwo," Prussia grumbled irritatedly, tossing his Gameboy Advance aside, "I am a fucking Mewtwo."
Okay, so maybe the PokeAwesome was off the list for today, but that could only mean that this shit wasn’t awesome enough for him. He wasn’t a doctor or anything, but that was a clear scientific conclusion.
He hadn’t actually made an ordered list of what he was going to do today- there were more ideas, impressions, floating around his brain. No particular idea was apparent right now, so he sat stilly for a moment, wondering what next.
So much awesome to be executed, so little time...there wasn’t much to do around the house, so he figured he’d explore a little bit. That was always a good idea. He pushed himself up from the bed and started off down the stairs.
...Bumped into Germany on his way out. "Hey, watch where you’re going," Germany said low, holding Prussia by the shoulder.
"No you," Prussia replied, snappily.
Germany looked over Prussia- his face fell immediately, as if he’d just found out he was doomed. "Wha- what- why are you dressed like that!?"
"Like what, West?"
"What do you mean ‘like what’!? Your shirt is tied around your arm! Your pants are basically falling off...What the Hell- you look crazy!" Germany balked, untying the shirt quickly.
"Oh, that," Prussia laughed sardonically, reaching up to pat Germany on the head condescendingly. "Don’t worry, West- I know it’s hard for you to comprehend how great I am- I’m surprised you haven’t fucking imploded, by now, actually-"
"Never mind that- put your shirt on!" Germany commanded, throwing the shirt at Prussia.
"Pffttt, I’m hot," Prussia whined.
"I don’t care- put it on."
"Fine then, Mom- Christ, you’re a nag," Prussia replied, pulling his shirt over his head. He straightened it out- looked back at Germany with a crooked grin, with a fluorescent flash in his eyes. "So? How great do I look?"
Germany rose an eyebrow. "You still need to comb your hair."
"You know, I wouldn’t be offended if you had the hots for me," Prussia replied, "Now move, West, I’m going out."
"Ah, you are? Please call me if you get into trouble- try not to get too drunk," Germany answered, wiping some sweat off his brow with a quick swipe, moving into the kitchen (also completely ignoring Prussia’s previous statement- he’d been hanging around ridiculous people so long he’d learned to tune it out).
"I wasn’t gonna get drunk yet- ain’t a bad idea though," Prussia said, and then followed Germany into the kitchen, "How much beer we got?"
And so it was an hour later that Prussia finished his war with the neighborhood squirrels (having decided he’d won when he actually landed a rock on one of their tails, and that he would win either way because they were too scared to acknowledge that there was a war), semi-buzzed but not quite twisted. He walked along the curbside, humming some memory song; tossed his last beer bottle into the street with a flick of the wrist, cutting movement cool into air, sang, "Seen the morning light/ It’s not ’cause I’m an early riser/I didn’t go to sleep last night..." A car honked down at his delinquency and he gave it the finger.
"My money comes and goes- comes and goes...what were the next words?...fuck, I’m too awesome for singing," he decided, talking in low rhythm to himself, when-
"Aiyaaa, aru, is that Prussia?" he heard from somewhere behind him.
He whipped around- he recognized that voice- that bastard China..."The Hell do you want?" he spat.
"Oh, I was just passing through- surprising to see you alone, though, aru!" China replied.
"Yeah, not many people as great as me to hang around with," Prussia answered. "What’re you doing in my house, anyway?"
China replied with a pause of the eyes; then a small sigh. "Oh, I was trying to sell some things-" Then another pause, but it wasn’t quiet at all- it snapped like electricity and smiled like pure evil. "No luck so far, though...it’s very unfortunate, aru..."
Prussia arched an eyebrow and laughed like sin. "Hah, it prolly sucks, that’s why! If I was selling something, it’d definitely sell."
"Ah, is that so, aru?"
"Fuck yeah! I’m a genius, that’s why."
China thought for a bit. "Then, your advice on this? If you’re a genius, you should be able to help, aru," he continued, swinging a large bag from his shoulder over to the ground. He pulled a drawstring, opened it up- then sent a questioning glance to Prussia.
Prussia’s eyes narrowed, but he shrugged and walked over anyway. Inside the bag was...little palm-sized stuffed animals- little penguins, to be exact...had wide spacey eyes, round heads and bodies, puffed out stomachs. Prussia looked up at China. China looked back at him. Prussia looked back down at the stuffed animals. His eye twitched.
Then he began to laugh- low, but it built up to a high nervous cackle. "Hah! That- does suck," he scoffed, looking to the street.
"Oh, my mistake, then, aru," China replied, taking one out of the bag and examining it with marked insouciance. "That’s too bad- I thought that they’d be cute- you know, cute, aru," he continued, "And they could do this, as well..." Prussia’s eyes darted back to China, who squeezed the penguin’s stomach- triggering a flapping motion in the wings.
Prussia paused. "Aha-haha! That’s so lame," he coughed. "Man, how dumb."
China noticed the shaking of Prussia’s hands; China was a wise old man, and knew how to bide his time. "Oh, really, aru?"
"Ya really," Prussia spat, vehemently, and it sounded more like "go away" than "ya rly."
"Huh. Well, have a nice day, Prussia," China answered, and began to make his way past Prussia, moving with faultless grace.
Prussia watched China retreat, feeling small and helpless. If only he could- then he’d be awesome again- "Wait!" Prussia called.
China pivoted on his heel, eyebrows raised. "Yes?"
"I- what are you gonna do with them? I mean, they obviously ain’t gonna sell," Prussia responded.
Oh, so he was playing his own game? That was fine, then. China knew he could play it better. "Well, aru, I can’t have it be a total loss, so I’ll probably send them so that the materials can be recycled, aru," China replied. He held a penguin in his hand with a look of terse melancholy. "So many little penguins...sent to become sofas...it’s sad, aru, to say the least."
Prussia leaned forward imperceptibly- seemed to be on the verge of words...but China just turned again. "Well then, goodbye, aru."
"WAIT-HOW-MUCH-ARE-THEY," Prussia blurted out, catching China by the collar.
China turned around with just this sunshine smile on his face, rainbows in his eyes. Prussia felt defeated again by this China character. "How much do you have, aru?"
So one hundred stuffed penguins and zero euros later, Prussia sat on a curbside hotly planning revenge on China- that bastard had overcome him twice! Once was already too much, but twice!? How the Hell...He breathed in the heat and exhaled an angry smoke...but he got down to thinking. He felt his honor was repaired being the new owner one hundred awesome penguins, and besides it was his Day of Absolute Win- vengeance, he decided, could wait. He was still feeling sort of crappy, though, so he decided to cheer himself up by harassing cyclists on the road.
Even just a couple would do- like hunted game, like coins in your hand...he waited, perched at the rounded curb at the end of the block, behind some bushes. This required much stealth and skill, and he was just the man to do it. He held a stick in his hand and waited.
Finally a bicyclist came around the bend- some teen geek with a helmet and a yellow sport suit. Perfect candidate. The movements were fluid, were confident- the fucker was so sure that it was just another day. But that was where he was wrong. Because today was Prussia’s day.
And so he would take full advantage of it. The cyclist was directly in sight; he bent his arm back just so, and pounced out of the shrubbery, tossing the stick at the biker- hopefully it would land where he wanted...the movement was fluent even under the outlaw sun, and he paused on a job well done.
It landed where he wanted, after all- right in the spokes of the front wheel. The wheel locked, and the panic was apparent on the kid’s face- washed over gray, but he managed to get off in time- he pushed himself off and collided with the concrete on his side, and the bike (front wheel locked, still in motion) flipped over shortly, the bell giving a dull tinkling sound as the thing hit the ground.
Prussia paused- then collapsed into manic laughter, eyes throwing off an insanely amused
light, shrank onto the sidewalk and rolled around in complete ecstasy at a job well-executed.
The cyclist had no idea what to do. He paused; his face passed emotions from "what the fuck?" to "dude, WHAT?" and finally ended at "that fucker!" He nursed a bleeding knee and whipped out his cell phone from a fanny-pack type thing. "I’m calling the police, you asshole!"
"AHAHA- THEY’LL NEVER GET ME!" Prussia responded with a burning laugh (voice in all caps), picked up his bag of penguins, and ran like a madman all the way home.
All the way home, because he decided it was time to have some fuckin’ lunch. "HEY, I’M HOME!" he yelled. "Oi, West, where are you?"
"Welcome back- I’m in my office," Germany responded, calling from some obscured room.
"Well, come into the kitchen, I have something t’ tell you," Prussia called back, swinging his bag of penguins over his shoulder with reckless grace.
"Fine- just a second."
Prussia swung into the kitchen, tossed his penguins onto the counter- sat at one of the seats by the counter, posture lax and casual. He tapped out a half-thinking beat on the marble, fingers twitching with impatient blood. "OI, West!" he called, and as if on cue Germany came through the doorframe.
"Yeah, I’m here already," Germany responded. "Now, what did you have to tell me?"
"I’m hungry," Prussia responded, leaning on the counter.
Germany’s posture just fell- the look on his face darkened with irritation. "Make yourself something, then!" he snapped, beginning to turn back out of the kitchen.
Prussia laughed sardonically. "Do I look like a chick to you?"
"I’m not a woman!" Germany protested.
"But you are my slave," Prussia corrected with a devil’s grin. Germany paused. Prussia laughed.
"...If I make you something," Germany reasoned, "Will you leave me alone for the rest of the day?"
"We’ll see- if it’s good," Prussia answered. He cocked an eyebrow, eyes suddenly suspicious. "Why the Hell would you want that for? I’m so awesome."
"That’s the whole reason," Germany said flatly. "What do you want me to make, anyway?"
"GRILLED CHEESE," Prussia responded with vigor, pounding his fists on the table and rapping out an excited rhythm.
"Al-alright, just calm down," Germany said irritatedly, leaning down and getting a frying pan from the cupboard.
"And don’t forget- two slices, don’t fucking gyp me because you did that last time," Prussia said, pointing accusingly at Germany as the flicker and spark of the stove turned on. "If you make it with one slice I’ll throw you out the window."
"Alright, two slices, I get it," Germany answered.
"Make sure to cut off the edges."
"What’s wrong with the edges?"
"Fuck outta here," Prussia said with a note turned down in his voice. "They suck ass, that’s what’s wrong with them."
"That’s a waste," Germany pointed out, getting sliced cheese out of the fridge.
"Your face is a waste," Prussia sang, sighing a little. Germany rolled his eyes and continued to prepare Prussia’s kindergarten meal.
"What’s that bag, anyway?" Germany asked after a spell of summer silence, indicating the bag on the counter with a glance.
Prussia paused and let out a condescending laugh. "It’s a secret- you’re not awesome enough to know," he said.
"Penguins?" Germany responded, raising his voice a little over the hiss of butter in the frying pan.
Prussia looked at Germany, eyes widened- he leaned back a little on his chair. "What the Hell? How did you know that!?" he balked, more like it was a command.
Germany shrugged. "You have everything else- penguins were the only marketable animal left."
Prussia paused, then shrugged. "Well, my awesome factor went up by like five thousand points by buying them," he answered, "Technically I’m invincible now."
"Is that how it works?" Germany asked.
"Damn straight," Prussia nodded. He paused. "Hey now, I hear all this talkin’, but I’m not getting any fuller- you slackin’ off on the job now?"
Germany paused, shaking his head. "For a full-grown adult, your attitude is beyond me," he remarked, moving to get a plate from the cupboard. He set it down on the counter, flicked the stove off- grilled cheese slid off the pan and onto the plate, making a slick sheen as it went. He cut it in half with a half-thinking movement and tossed the spatula into the sink.
There was a slight desire to say something like, "here’s your Happy Meal, Sir," as Germany set the plate down in front of Prussia, but he restrained himself. "Get me a beer while you’re at it," Prussia said, pointing to the fridge haphazardly.
"Jeez, what are you, three years old?" Germany scoffed, but went to the refrigerator anyway to grab Prussia a bottle of beer- got one for himself, as well, and turned back to see Prussia staring at his plate with an eyebrow raised, as if to say "Oh, really, now?"
"What is it?" Germany asked, putting the beer on the counter.
"Hell naw I ain’t gonna eat this," Prussia said, pushing the plate away. "Congratulations, West, you officially fail. You eat it if you want."
Germany’s eye twitched. "What the Hell! What’s wrong with it now? I used two slices and I cut the edges off-"
"Squares, West? Really? Squares? I thought I raised you better, but clearly I was mistaken," Prussia said, opening the bottle by striking it against the counter at a slight angle- the cap popped off with a snap, made a small tinny noise as it dropped to the floor.
Germany paused as he opened his beer. Squares? What did that mean, sandwiches were always square-...oh. "Are you by any chance being picky because I didn’t cut the sandwich into triangles?"
"Bingo, genius."
"Oh please, is it really inedible now?"
Prussia’s mouth turned in a surly line. "Squares? West, that’s so gay," he said, throwing back a gulp of beer. He finished up and sent a mad glance at Germany. "So guess what, you get to make me another one!"
"I’m not making you another one- if you don’t want that one, make one yourself," Germany answered, eyes flat.
Prussia cast an irritated look to Germany and grudgingly took the plate. "Fine then. Fuck you, you’re fired," he grumbled.
Germany rolled his eyes but decided to let it go for now. They talked for a little bit ("hey, where’s little Italy at?" "...nowhere that I’d tell you" "oh-ho, is that a challenge?"), Prussia devouring his grilled cheese sandwich and Germany watching with mild wonder. "Is that bag full of penguins, though?" Germany asked, leaning against the counter.
"Hell yes!" Prussia replied through a mouthful of food, slamming his hand down on the bag, producing a small chorus of squeak.
"...How many, exactly?"
"That bastard China said a hunnerd," Prussia answered, shrugging, throwing back the last of his beer.
Germany paused- he knew full well that there was absolutely no space for an army of penguins in the house. He really did not want to feel like he was drowning in penguins when it got time to clean. "Well, I don’t want to burden Austria but...why don’t you...take some over there?"
Prussia paused- Germany, for a moment, almost regretted saying that- if only for the sudden glitter in Prussia’s eyes, if only for the pause like electricity that was filled with a mad grin. "Yeah-...I think I will take some over there."
Germany’s eyebrows became knit in worry, eyes reflected a sudden vigilance in the shading of the blue- he watched as Prussia got up from his place with a sudden jump. "...Are you planning something?"
Prussia reached up to pat Germany on the shoulder, with a hidden malice in his smile. "Don’t worry about it, West," he said, then chuckled a bit.
"Don’t do anything stupid-"
"I just remembered something, is all," Prussia responded, and took his bag of penguins, slung it over his shoulder.
Germany raised his eyebrows slightly. "Just don’t do anything that might-"
"I SUMMON," Prussia began to yell, "PENGUINI!" And with that he made a lightning move to reach inside the bag of penguins and throw one at Germany’s face, as though to pose some obstacle. Germany yelled something in the way of, "What the Hell!", but Prussia was too quick for him, and was crashing through the door in two seconds flat.
...Well, at least he was glad to be rid of Prussia for the time being- which was what he thought, until he heard a knock on the door. "What now?" he asked himself, picking up the penguin and placing it on the counter.
He went to the door- two men in uniform stood coolly in the frame. "Afternoon, Sir- we received reports of a red-eyed, light-haired delinquent harassing a cyclist on this street earlier today..." It seemed to Germany that his situation with Prussia was similar to that of his with Italy- they would never leave him alone. Ever.
He moved with purpose, running over to Austria’s house- but he got a bit sidetracked on the way- happened to spot two girls with attitude and spice in their hips and he had to stop for a chat ("Lemme call my wingman Clooney- George Clooney, that is"; "George Clooney? You don’t really know him, why is you lyin’?"; "Pfft, ’cause if I fuckin’ did, he couldn’t compare, chickie"). But then he remembered just as quick, and left them in the wake of his awesomeness as he began on the trail once again.
The dry white heat was slowly fading from its throne of wind, was dissolving into cool pink evening. Austria’s house was standing pristine and faceless- among flowers, against the darkening sky. Prussia sat across the street, at a distance, plotting with a menacing smile.
What should he do first? He scanned over the house again. Everything about it was thoroughly fancy and therefore breakable, so it was hard to decide. But just as Rome wasn’t built in a day, Austria sadly was not destroyed in one. So, start from the top. The weathervane on the roof was clearly a monument to everything fruity in the world, but he didn’t really feel like going out of his way at the moment; and besides, it had to be something quick for the immediate effect. The twin balconies were also clearly stupid and artsy looking, but he didn’t have a bomb on him right then so that was out of the question. He needed the door for later, as well as the windows, so that was a no-go. He could wreck the shrubbery, it looked really stupid...or he could take a piss on the stoop or something...he scanned around mechanically- well, piss it was, then- he unzipped his pants and started to get up-
But wait. His eyes flickered lazily back toward the lawn, toward something pretentious and fruity that he’d seen there. The mailbox. He rose an eyebrow. Who needed a mailbox that fucking beautiful? It looked like fucking butterflies and unicorns floated out of it- like you’d turn into rainbows and bubbles if you touched it. All intricate shapes made of metal, gold accents, the address painted on the side in sweeping, windy script...damn that was a homosexual mailbox. If he’d ever seen homosexual, that was it.
Change of plans- Prussia got up casually from his place at the curb, zipping up his pants and walking at an even, easy pace. He knew about stealth- he was pretty much a goddamn ninja to his thinking, and an awesome one at that. He peered up at the windows briefly. There didn’t seem to be anybody who could look on, and half the curtains were drawn because Austria was a priss like that. A nocturnal waltz danced breezy from an open window as he approached.
The first shock of contact began with a soccer player’s perfect kick and eventually ended with beating the living shit out of the metal frame with the wooden post it had previously been standing on. That was just the way Prussia rolled.
Hungary stirred a little at the banging noises coming from far away- a dull percussion punctuated with incoherent garbled sounds. She poked her head out the entrance to the parlor and looked around. "Austria," she called down the hall, "are you cooking something?"
Another sound seemed to stop- she realized he’d been playing the piano and flushed red with embarrassment. "Oh, no, I’m not- why?"
"N-no reason!" she spat back and brought her book back up to her face, suddenly flustered- she wouldn’t want to offend Austria, but it did sound like bombs were going off when he cooked.
...The noises still persisted, though, so she got up from her place and looked out the window...and found she could only see flowers and bushes. Austria was...artistic, and that led to small impracticalities, she supposed. She moved over to the parlor entrance to poke her head out again. "Austria?"
The airy whips of piano notes faded and then stopped. "Yes?"
"Do you hear that?"
A pause down the hall. "What is that?" he seemed to ask himself.
"It sounds like it’s coming from outside," Hungary replied, leaning on the doorframe, omitting the "it can’t be inside because you’re not cooking" part.
"...I’ll take a look, then," he replied, and she heard the vague sounds of his movements obscured in the quiet air. She paused- half of her knew she was probably better for the job, but the other half smiled quietly at this show of gentlemanliness. It would be alright, anyway; she could always tell if Austria was lost, and could probably distinguish his screaming better than that of other people, so if he fell into trouble she’d be right there.
And anyway, down the hall, Austria’s fingers tapped against the starched clean fabric of his pants- he could feel melody coursing through his hands, but he had to deal with this small interruption first. Irritating, to say the least, but obligations were obligations.
The noises seemed to stop altogether when he crossed into the foyer; he opened the door, and the first thing he noticed was the magic of the summer air breathing breezes into his mind. He looked around, closed the door behind him. There was nobody here...nothing seemed to be wron-
What the Hell!? His mind cracked as he saw- his mailbox lying dead on the lawn, severed from the wooden post and bent into a semi-circle, with the small flag abandoned the bit of pavement that led from the sidewalk to the door. Who- would have done something like that? He actually knew quite a few people who would do something so stupid and irrelevant through either malice or carelessness, but at the moment he did not care for trying to figure out who. He didn’t step near the mailbox; his first thought was to call someone to have another made, so he turned back inside...but wait, what was this paper?
With some trepidation he took down the piece of paper tacked to the door, the instinctual thought flashing through his mind that perhaps it was something form the government- maybe his mailbox was violating some code...but no, the paper felt like common printer paper and it was handwritten. In fact, he recognized this handwriting- narrow and scratchy, barley legible- he looked closely at it:
DEAR STUPID (AUSTRIA)
YOU HAVE HEREBY BEEN EVICTED FROM THE UNIVERSE. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BRING ANYTHING WITH YOU. TAKES EFFECT: IMMEDIATELY. GET OUT. JUST GO.
-AS ORDERED BY KING PRUSSIA-
King Prussia.
Black light immediately cracked in Austria’s mind, and a bad biting feeling curled in the back of his throat. He really should’ve guessed it was Prussia- but it would have been much less trouble had it just been something like America accidentally destroying their mailbox while having a fight with England, or something like that. That was much less trouble than anything Prussia could ever do.
Austria counted his breaths, remained fairly calm as he pulled open the door. "Hungary, could you-" he started to call, but a shatter and crash broke through his words with such a crystalline violence that he whipped around in surprise.
Prussia was standing in the middle of the street, a cigarette hanging limply out of his mouth...with a collection of concrete blocks in his left arm and an ominous looking bag at his feet. Austria looked past his shoulder- the remains of his window were glittering in the evening sunset, uselessly lying on the grass. He narrowed his eyes and looked toward Prussia.
"You IDIOT," Austria began, walking toward him, "What are you doing now? Must you be so inane?"
Prussia’s eyes flickered fast toward Austria. He grinned, and his cigarette fell out of his mouth; he dropped the concrete blocks as if he’d immediately forgotten about them, and swooped down to pick up his bag. "Hey, prissface!" he said, walking toward Austria with an intent swagger that made Austria hate him even more. "Didn’t I tell you you were evicted from the universe?"
"I- shut up, that’s not funny! Just what is the meaning of this!" Austria exclaimed, fists curled indignantly at his sides.
"You!" Prussia responded, pointing at Austria demandingly, "Happened to catch me on my Most Awesome Day of the Week."
"I thought you were always awesome," Austria answered, rolling his eyes.
"This is true," Prussia nodded, "But y’see I have ordained today the day where all the world will bend like light inwards towards my epicness. It started with just me being badass- you wanna know how it ends?" He tilted his head up- heavy eyes shaded in red, something carnivorous in the lights playing on his face.
Austria rose an eyebrow. "How, then? I’d suspect that compensation for my broken mailbox and window would be included, moron," he responded.
"It ends," Prussia said, stepping closer, "With this." Austria recoiled at Prussia’s grin; Prussia pointed at Austria again and began to laugh. "I declare WAR on you, Austria!"
"Oh, for Heaven’s sake, this is ridiculous," Austria said, rolling his eyes, "You are SUCH a moron-"
But he was stopped short by a flurry of stuffed penguins attacking him on all fronts- Prussia had opened the bag and was propelling them at Austria like rapid fire; they made a dull squeaking noise as they hit him, and he backed into the house against the barrage of penguins. "What are you doing! Stop this at once!" he commanded, shielding his face with his hands.
Prussia let out a blood-choked laugh and replied, "‘We’ve had this date from the very beginning!’"
"Don’t- quote- literature- when you can’t- read!" Austria protested vehemently- words punctuated by short silences in which he was getting pummeled by stuffed penguins.
Austria didn’t know exactly what to do- there was no possible way he could overcome Prussia physically, so he’d have to rely on the fact that Prussia was a chimpanzee who’d undergone a lobotomy many, many years ago. He eventually collapsed under the flurry of penguins, and now on the floor, swept his leg under Prussia’s feet swiftly- Prussia stumbled, lost his balance; then fell to the floor similarly with a pointed, "OWCH!"
But that seemed to have the opposite effect on Prussia- instead of backing down he just got more riled up, seemed to be happy that Austria was upping the ante and responded with a ringing laugh- then reached in the bag for another penguin, and began to hit Austria in the stomach with it-
After a minute or so it seemed that Austria might give up- after all, he prided himself on being practical, so he didn’t mind being a quitter- and Prussia could see victory and epic win written on the horizon. A firefly floated in from the open door, and the sun’s light had almost vanished from the sky-
And then a shadow was cast over them, and movement seemed quick and unreadable, like a paintsplash across the eyes. It went something like this:
"H- Hungary!"
"Oh shit, she’s here?"
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO AUSTRIA!? HOW DID ALL THESE PENGUINS- WHAT IS THIS I DON’T EVEN-"
"HUNGARY PLEASE-"
A flash, a shadow, a bang:
"Oh shit- !"
Germany had politely told the cops that he would report it immediately if such a person appeared, and had subsequently decided that when Prussia got home he was going to beat the ever-loving shit out of him. Prussia was a formidable foe, but Germany was pretty sure that he was one of the two people who could easily kick his ass, the other being America, who didn’t even count because he was a Transformer. After that small upset, he had talked to Italy on the phone, finished up work and had dinner- and now here he was, reading Amerika by low lamplight and collecting his thoughts at the end of the evening. If Prussia showed up after he went to bed, he’d just kick the shit out of him when he woke up in the morning.
He turned a page, and the sound of the doorbell rang hollow through the house. He swore, if this was the cops again...which in all likelihood it was, or it could be Italy, having forgot something like how to tie his shoes. He bookmarked his place and got up; the ringing became quick and persistent, so he called, "Yes, I’m coming!" over the noise. Honestly, who needed to talk to him so badly that they had to ring the doorbell that much?
He opened the door- paradise sounds of crickets and chanting and the cool breeze crashed into the house. It was Austria, and Hungary beside him...they appeared to be holding...a log. With red eyes. And smoky hair.
Prussia grinned at the look of irritation that passed over Germany’s face, and then laughed- continued on a chant of "WIN WIN WIN WIN WIN." Oh. So that was the chanting.
"He’s been saying that ever since we tied him up," Hungary groaned.
"Oh- I- uhm- come in- I guess," Germany said, stepping aside. They began to come into the house, but Germany stopped them. "Oh, I’m sorry, let me get that," he said, moving to take one end of the captured Prussia. Austria was a bit offended that he took his end and not Hungary’s, but that was just the way it always seemed to work, he guessed.
There was a nervous silence on Germany’s part and an irritated hush on Austria-Hungary’s part as they walked inside, and Prussia just kept laughing and saying, "Pwned! I won! You stupid bastards," and other things like that. Germany and Hungary tossed Prussia on the couch like a prize ham, and then the three sane people got down to talking about the odd situation at hand.
"So...eh...what, er, happened here?" Germany asked, very formally, crossing his arms.
Austria cast a spiteful glance to Prussia, who stuck his tongue out. "That one came to my house, destroyed my mailbox, broke my window, and proceeded to attack me with penguins," he replied heatedly.
The beginning of the sentence struck a deep worry in Germany, but he had to stifle a laugh at "proceeded to attack me with penguins"; Prussia seemed to be the only one to catch the slight snicker, though. Prussia grinned at his place on the couch. "‘I am not a criminal, for I destroyed a bad man,’" he quoted with a sweetness that was malicious.
Hungary literally growled and went over to the couch, beating on Prussia with a rain of fists. "Don’t-quote-Gavrilo-Princip-around-us!" she hissed. Germany made no move to stop her, because firstly, Prussia deserved it, and secondly, she was frightening when angered. But Prussia just laughed and called her a man.
"I’m deeply sorry for that," Germany said, directing his eyes toward Austria.
"I regret nothing!" Prussia interjected spiritedly, and Germany turned around to smack him on the head.
"Yes, well, I’m expected that this one should pay for the damages done," Austria replied, folding his arms.
"Yes, of course," Germany nodded.
Austria rose an eyebrow. "Furthermore it seems to me that this may be your fault as well." Germany was about to interrupt with a "WHAT?" but Austria poked him in the chest sharply. "You need to keep a closer eye on this degenerate."
"Just lock him in the attic," Hungary suggested, looking pointedly at Prussia, "Like you do with most crazy people."
"So, in conclusion, I am expecting money, and...keep your brother on a leash, or something to that effect," Austria said, beginning to turn away. Hungary followed him on the way out, giving Prussia a deathglare before she went.
"Al-alright," Germany said, following them out. "Again, I’m very, very sorry..."
"I AM NOT A CROOK!" Prussia called from the living room- the sound of his voice followed by a dull thud.
Germany locked the door behind them and came back into the living room, not knowing anymore. He was between kicking the shit out of Prussia and just untying him and saying goodnight because this was all just too much...when he came back into the living room, Prussia was on the floor, trying to struggle out of captivity. Germany looked down at him, folded his arms expectantly- but then noticed that Prussia was covered in welts and cuts. Ouch. Leave it to Hungary...
Germany sighed and made his way over to Prussia. "To what extent do you have to do these things?" he asked, reaching around to undo the knots at Prussia’s back. "Is it imperative? Is there some necessity here that I’m not aware of- ?"
"Someday, you’ll understand," Prussia replied, with that very sweet condescension in his voice that made Germany roll his eyes.
"I’m sure. Here, you’re free," Germany said, standing up and looking at the one of the makeshift rope in his hand- it seemed to just be...a lavender silk tablecloth. Ah. So this did come from Austria’s house.
Prussia laughed about something, and that laugh struck Germany sharp- like he was suddenly remembering something, and on that memory he whirled around and kicked Prussia right in the stomach. Prussia doubled over, but seemed to grin. "What is the matter with you!" Germany said, but it seemed hopeless. He tried to double his efforts, came up with, "And listen- stay in the house tonight. Don’t go out. I know you want to but I don’t want to have a heart attack this evening."
Prussia looked up at Germany. His expression seemed to quiet, seemed to pout under a cool shadow. Germany recognized that resigned look. He bit his lip. "Wha- what’s wrong, now?"
"I don’t know," Prussia replied. There was a bit of evening quiet; Prussia let off a scoffing sound, sharp from behind his teeth. "I mean- if I don’t go out- I won’t be able to finish my day of awesome."
Germany recognized this play too. But what could he do? This was his brother. He knew why he did the things he did, and only he understood his reasons. He helped Prussia up, scowling deeply. "Well...get cleaned up before you go out," was all he said, turning toward the bathroom to get alcohol and cotton swabs, and he didn’t see the grin on Prussia’s face but he could very damn well feel it.
And so they charged through casa, straight out of the warmth of the house and into the soda lights of the outside- the jewels and the heat of murder on a vibrant night. Prussia flung a cheeky smirk back to Germany. "You used to fall for that shit when you were little, too," he said. Germany rolled his eyes yet again, and Prussia let out an acid laugh. "‘Oh, West, I’m so lonely!’" he imitated, and doubled over laughing. "Oh, God, you were such a sucker- ‘Okay, Prussia, I’m sorry’- aha, and you’re still the same! What a damn sap."
"You are lonely, though," Germany replied, something like a joke, stepping in tandem with Prussia as they drifted through the night crowd, the jackal traffic lights.
"Hell if I’m lonely! Fuck that, I don’t need anybody," Prussia yelled. Germany paused. Prussia walked ahead of him, and Germany felt his footsteps slow. Prussia, lit like a wolf at every passing streetlamp- Prussia who in the cheap lights seemed hungry and breathless, laughing and lying, always with the sting of blood in the way he moved. Germany knew why he was the way he was, and only he understood. How could Prussia- by instinct a soldier, by mind a general, by heart a vagrant- exist inside a world of peace?
Germany exhaled sharply, as Prussia looked across the street to a lit-up sign reading, "THE AFTER PARTY: 12 AM." Prussia spat on the sidewalk, said, "Bitch, I am the after party," kicking a mailbox and starting again on his wild, windless walk.
Prussia looked back at Germany. Germany tensed at the vibrant red- like a web, like a bullet stream. "West," he said, slowly, "Your life would suck without me."
"Oh?" Germany responded, mouth straightening, "That would be because you consistently cause me trouble, make messes, and act physically and verbally violent toward me and everyone else around you."
Prussia rose an eyebrow. "Who the fuck are you kidding? You’re a masochist- you like getting the shit kicked out of you, you sicko," he replied, and then shrugged- stopped, waited for Germany to catch up. "And I am just the badass to do the job."
"That’s mildly sickening," Germany answered, but smirked.
"Yeah, I’m sure. Kid, you gotta loosen up," Prussia said, throwing his arm haphazardly over Germany’s shoulders. "Here’s a lil’ exercise- ‘Prussia is SO FUCKING AWESOME.’ Say it like that."
Germany shook his head. "I’m not going to say that. Don’t be irritating."
"Ah, you won’t? That’s fine, then, drinks’re on you!" Prussia bit, and with a movement fluid as barrel and trigger, pushed Germany to the side- kicked him toward a door, and Germany was just quick enough to put out his arm, so that he went through. It hurt, and it was dark in here and smoke and sound was suddenly filling his senses heavily, but he still had to laugh.
His brother, he’d admit, was a bit awesome.
After a night of effectively getting shitfaced, they came back to the dark house, and Germany made pancakes with clumsy, drunken hands and laughs as Prussia "sobered up with another beer" and the sun rose, cutting through pearl gray and spilling pale honey yellow across the shadows of the kitchen. Yeah, Prussia was awesome- but if he ever had another day like this, God help them all. He grinned secretly to himself, and mused on what an awesome fucking day it had been, looking forward to pancakes and some sleep.
NOTES;;
1] The song he's singing is Walkin' Down the Line.
2] "I SUMMON PENGUINI!" is from Italian Spiderman.
3] Amerika is a novel by Franz Kafka. About a European immigrant in America escaping the scandal of being seduced by a housemaid. Sound familiar? THAT'S BECAUSE IT IS THE STORY OF HRE AND CHIBITALIA, ROFLROFLROFLROFLROFLROFL
4] sorry for the previous outburst. but not really.
5] "Don't-quote-Gavrilo-Princip-around-us!" = Gavrilo Princip assassinated Austrian duke (was it duke? archduke? is that even relevant) Franz Ferdinand, thus triggering WWI and more indirectly WII.
6] "I AM NOT A CROOK!" = RICHARD NIXON 8DDDD
well, if you enjoy similar Prussia lolz and toys from the 90s, watch for tupelo_thief's upcoming Prussia-centric fic.
Thanks for reading! ;D