[Hetalia] "Kid Stuff" (PG)
Author's Note: Written for Hetalia, England, He thought the D&D books were some of the best magical references he had ever found
He found his kid brother, America, up to his eyebrows in spring cleaning, boxes of what appeared to be junk piled on his back porch, where England found them when he came to visit the younger country.
"What, may I ask, is all of this?" England asked, as America emerged onto the porch with another box.
"Ahh, I'm just cleaning out my closets: got a bunch of junk I wanna get rid of, crap I don't use any more, so I can make room for this year's Christmas presents," America said, plonking the box down on top of a stack.
"What have you got in that box?" England asked.
"Mostly a bunch of books, printed on paper: who reads them any more? We got e-books now, after all. I oughta just chuck them in the recycling," America said.
"I could get them off your hands, if you'd rather not keep them," England offered.
"You'd do that, bro?" America asked. "Take what you want: there's plenty more where those came from," he added, before heading back into the house.
England opened the newest box and found a whole trove of books, rather large, about a foot on one side and ten inches on another, some an inch thick with glossy covers emblazoned with colorful pictures of dragons and fantastical adventurers in combat, armed with swords or casting spells represented with colorful bursts of energy. Along the spine of one read the title "Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, Fourth Edition". He cracked open the cover to pore over the contents.
America was an idiot for having discarded such a treasure trove. England was always in search of new inspirations for the menagerie of fanciful creatures that he sometimes summoned to keep him company, and this was just the thing he needed, to bring a few more into the fold.
Speak of the tosser who had decided to discard something so wonderful, America emerged carrying an antique brass bird cage and a bundle of umbrellas tied together. "Hey there, bro, found something you like?" he asked, plunking down the load.
"Oh, yes: I found some books I've not seen before," England replied.
America craned his head around to read the cover. "Oh, you found those: that's some kid stuff I grew out of," he said. "You're welcome to it, if that's how you roll."
Kids stuff, the nerve of his younger brother. Well, that was so like the young: to neglect the things that really mattered, things that gave life meaning, like sub-creating fanciful worlds and populating them with marvelous creatures to entertain and refresh one and to help one understand one's reality more clearly.
He found his kid brother, America, up to his eyebrows in spring cleaning, boxes of what appeared to be junk piled on his back porch, where England found them when he came to visit the younger country.
"What, may I ask, is all of this?" England asked, as America emerged onto the porch with another box.
"Ahh, I'm just cleaning out my closets: got a bunch of junk I wanna get rid of, crap I don't use any more, so I can make room for this year's Christmas presents," America said, plonking the box down on top of a stack.
"What have you got in that box?" England asked.
"Mostly a bunch of books, printed on paper: who reads them any more? We got e-books now, after all. I oughta just chuck them in the recycling," America said.
"I could get them off your hands, if you'd rather not keep them," England offered.
"You'd do that, bro?" America asked. "Take what you want: there's plenty more where those came from," he added, before heading back into the house.
England opened the newest box and found a whole trove of books, rather large, about a foot on one side and ten inches on another, some an inch thick with glossy covers emblazoned with colorful pictures of dragons and fantastical adventurers in combat, armed with swords or casting spells represented with colorful bursts of energy. Along the spine of one read the title "Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, Fourth Edition". He cracked open the cover to pore over the contents.
America was an idiot for having discarded such a treasure trove. England was always in search of new inspirations for the menagerie of fanciful creatures that he sometimes summoned to keep him company, and this was just the thing he needed, to bring a few more into the fold.
Speak of the tosser who had decided to discard something so wonderful, America emerged carrying an antique brass bird cage and a bundle of umbrellas tied together. "Hey there, bro, found something you like?" he asked, plunking down the load.
"Oh, yes: I found some books I've not seen before," England replied.
America craned his head around to read the cover. "Oh, you found those: that's some kid stuff I grew out of," he said. "You're welcome to it, if that's how you roll."
Kids stuff, the nerve of his younger brother. Well, that was so like the young: to neglect the things that really mattered, things that gave life meaning, like sub-creating fanciful worlds and populating them with marvelous creatures to entertain and refresh one and to help one understand one's reality more clearly.