An America Centric fic with rolling girl Observations
He knew his brother wasn’t around to see him do this, for which he was thankful. He knew Japan wasn’t visiting, for which he was very thankful. He knew England wasn’t about to come visit him, for that was scheduled next Thursday. Nonetheless, America searched his house for any lingering entities. Tony was in the living room, but he was busy playing a videogame, if the loud explosions and real cursing were anything to go by. Finally happy with his search of the house, America made his way into his office, and proceeded to start his computer.
As his computer was getting the environment ready, America looked to his bookcase. There, names such as Poe, Shakespeare, King, and Shelley stood out against the dark cherry wood. There were more, of course, but those were the few that had caught his eye. He grinned to himself. The other nations never would believe him if he told them he had copies of the works those people had written. A five note sound, probably twelve beats on a four-four scale, from his computer alerted him that, yes, he was closer to his goal for the day.
After his computer had loaded the firewall and connected to the Internet, he began his search. No, he didn’t search for the piece of cyberspace. He already knew where it was. He searched for it, though, because he liked the thought of being distracted by something on the cyber-walk to his destination. Nothing had caught his interest, so America just typed in the URL that he had known by heart. He was brought to a page that the other nations would have thought he couldn’t understand. He sort of could, which was more than the others would have clearly thought. He then changed his entry language on his computer. He knew what keywords to use here. He always did when he truly wanted to find something.
America found what he was looking for. He was sure Japan knew what he was listening to, but the man was polite enough to not mention it, for which he was very thankful. Even though so many humans knew about the concert in July. He had enjoyed that concert. It was the first overseas performance for the software, and if Youtube had been anything to go by before the videos were taken off, people who had seen clips had enjoyed it just as thoroughly, if not more. There was one song though, there always was with him, which struck him. Even though it was from a girl’s point of view, it was hard not to relate to it. The girl in the song, she just kept trying. Even when she was failing, she tried her best to continue.
There was the similarity. He had tried to be a hero, but he knew now that he was falling. Sure, he showed signs of getting better, but he just had this feeling. Of course, the song symbolized trying again as rolling, but it was all the same to America. Trying, rolling, all the exact same in his mind.
As the video burst from it’s black and white confines into an explosion of color, a rather loud knock came from the door to America’s office. He glanced at the clock and saw that the person on the other side had arrived uncharacteristically on time. Just as he was about to hit the close icon on the screen, he remembered. She knew. She knew what he did whenever he got any free time on a computer. She knew of his connection with the song.
She knew because it was linked with her as well. And she would always be trying along with him. Because they were one in the same. They were both America. They would both watch this video countless times. They had both almost memorized the lyrics. They both knew of their attempts to create something for the program the song was made with. They both rolled. They both attempted to act heroic. They both felt themselves slipping.
But they both would keep trying until the end.
I don't even know.
As his computer was getting the environment ready, America looked to his bookcase. There, names such as Poe, Shakespeare, King, and Shelley stood out against the dark cherry wood. There were more, of course, but those were the few that had caught his eye. He grinned to himself. The other nations never would believe him if he told them he had copies of the works those people had written. A five note sound, probably twelve beats on a four-four scale, from his computer alerted him that, yes, he was closer to his goal for the day.
After his computer had loaded the firewall and connected to the Internet, he began his search. No, he didn’t search for the piece of cyberspace. He already knew where it was. He searched for it, though, because he liked the thought of being distracted by something on the cyber-walk to his destination. Nothing had caught his interest, so America just typed in the URL that he had known by heart. He was brought to a page that the other nations would have thought he couldn’t understand. He sort of could, which was more than the others would have clearly thought. He then changed his entry language on his computer. He knew what keywords to use here. He always did when he truly wanted to find something.
America found what he was looking for. He was sure Japan knew what he was listening to, but the man was polite enough to not mention it, for which he was very thankful. Even though so many humans knew about the concert in July. He had enjoyed that concert. It was the first overseas performance for the software, and if Youtube had been anything to go by before the videos were taken off, people who had seen clips had enjoyed it just as thoroughly, if not more. There was one song though, there always was with him, which struck him. Even though it was from a girl’s point of view, it was hard not to relate to it. The girl in the song, she just kept trying. Even when she was failing, she tried her best to continue.
There was the similarity. He had tried to be a hero, but he knew now that he was falling. Sure, he showed signs of getting better, but he just had this feeling. Of course, the song symbolized trying again as rolling, but it was all the same to America. Trying, rolling, all the exact same in his mind.
As the video burst from it’s black and white confines into an explosion of color, a rather loud knock came from the door to America’s office. He glanced at the clock and saw that the person on the other side had arrived uncharacteristically on time. Just as he was about to hit the close icon on the screen, he remembered. She knew. She knew what he did whenever he got any free time on a computer. She knew of his connection with the song.
She knew because it was linked with her as well. And she would always be trying along with him. Because they were one in the same. They were both America. They would both watch this video countless times. They had both almost memorized the lyrics. They both knew of their attempts to create something for the program the song was made with. They both rolled. They both attempted to act heroic. They both felt themselves slipping.
But they both would keep trying until the end.
I don't even know.