((OOC: Approval granted from Austria and Sweden mun. I’ve waited about a week and haven’t heard anything back from France, N. Italy, or Russia mun, so I’m assuming the go-ahead from them as well.))A small boy who had not been there only moments before lay on the floor of the Sorting Room. His face and blond hair, swept back under the hat that had
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There was so much Austria could say, but the only word to come out of his mouth was, "How?!"
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He might as well enjoy the respite from fighting and catch up with Austria, even if it wasn't real. "Austria. Where are we?"
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"Ah, is that so," he replied. "How have you been?"
Up close, Austria looked older than he remembered--as if Austria had aged since Holy Roman Empire last saw him, while he himself still hadn't grown an inch for all his efforts.
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Which, believe me, is better than the initial sparklepire ability we came up with.
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He hoped the man would paint some memory of Italy. Even if he couldn't take the painting with him, it would be so wonderful to see her sweet face again.
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"Ain't you a little little to be a Holy Roamin' Anything? I mean, what's with that? You the kid who gets picked on? It sucks bein' the small one. Nobody takes you seriously until you can swing hard enough to bust some heads." Mmm, personal experience talking.
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"It's true that I don't seem to grow, and France and Sweden are invading my house... but that just means I'm strong enough to be a threat," he rationalized. Because if he was simply being picked on, that meant he was weak like the Italies--which was not only an insult to his pride, but also meant he couldn't protect Italy. "And even if I'm small, I can still beat them in war." Although Zusmarhausen wouldn't be one of those victories.
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Sweden was in the middle of stirring up the religious rebellions in his empire, again. Sweden was prolonging yet another war that kept Holy Roman Empire from returning to his beloved Italy. Sweden was eying his northern territory. And Sweden was in the middle of thoroughly, devastatingly routing his men at Zusmarhausen.
Even if Holy Roman Empire had rationalized that this was all a dream, Sweden currently shared a high ranking with France on his list of most hated people.
But Holy Roman Empire was unarmed, and he honestly lacked the energy to attack Sweden anyway, and it would still hurt if Sweden defeated him again. So he settled for glaring. Very violently. And growling, "Bastard."
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"'nd'rst'nd that I had m'ord'rs."
The goat on his shoulder began pawing at Sweden's shoulder. He got on his knees to set the goat with his brothers. The biggest straw goat (which Sweden had named Ronnie) was the first to hesitantly step forward and approach the newcomer country.
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So he crossed his arms and turned his back on Sweden with a "Hmph!"
Holy Roman Empire had been too busy glaring at Sweden's face to notice the little straw goats, or he might have been curious about them despite himself.
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What had he done to make himself useful to his people? "I'm fighting to keep my house a united, peaceful place for everyone to live," he replied. "I'm trying to stop the revolts, and I'm warring against France and Sweden to keep them from seizing parts of my house."
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"The peace negotiations aren't going well, either, and there's no guarantee it'll last any longer than the other treaties."
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