Forward Dated to Christmas Eve

[supersizedpower]

Characters: America and friends who know who they are. Anyone who was invited by America or his allies. The place is tricked out with surveillance and rudimentary traps, so no crashing, commies.
What: America's Christmas Party
When: about 9 PM Christmas Eve
Where: 1762 Beaver Street
Warnings: A holly jolly time and also pending nuclear holocaust.

Comments

Arrivals

[supersizedpower]

America waits by the door to greet his friends as they show, ready to take their coat for the coat rack. He's actually looking happier and less tense than he has recently, which will probably be a relief to guests as they arrive.

[is_an_island]

England has a slight twitch in his eye and a paranoid look on his face as he approaches. His eyes flicker occasionally to his surroundings, but when he spots America, he stiffens altogether, and an uneasy forced smile appears on his face. Despite America's happier state, he only appears faintly terrified.

"America," he said. "It's good to see you."

He instinctively holds his bandaged hand closer to his body.

[supersizedpower]

America doesn't seem to notice England's attitude or how stiff he is; he seems much more like his old self, and when he opens the door, he gives England a wide smile and a one armed bear hug.

"England! I'm real glad you're here, come in!"

[is_an_island]

"Why are you glad?" He automatically surveys the environment, and avoids direct eye contact with America. Swallowing heavily, he tries to speak, chokes, and then tries again.

"It's very festive."

Inside

[supersizedpower]

There's plenty of food set out for everyone to eat, most of it cooked by America himself. He's only a decent cook of things that aren't burgers, but it's edible. There are also drinks, although America's likely to come shake his finger at anyone under 21 who goes for the alcoholic beverages.

someone comment to me and make me feel less pathetic

[is_an_island]

England sulkily stands in the corner, staring at the cookies and other decorated food as if they were nauseating to even see. Occasionally he twitches, and fingers his bandaged hand, but otherwise remains in a one-sided staring contest with the food. And judging by his increasingly nauseated look, the food was quickly becoming the victor.

[stateofworry]

After looking over worriedly more than a few times, Lithuania's compelled to make sure that nothing is terribly wrong. So he edges over slowly and hesitantly, not wanting to startle or disturb him too much.

"Mr. England? Are you feeling all right?"

[is_an_island]

He jolts slightly, hand flying to a weapon, but pauses and swallows rapidly when he sees that it was only Lithuania. To that, a genuine smile surfaces slightly, and he relaxes, slightly.

"Oh, yes, thank you. Just... not in the mood for cookies. Though you should have some, they're quite good." He hesitates for another moment. "You've--been talking to America?"

[supersizedpower]

When he finally manages to slip away from England, America goes upstairs and picks up the phone, and he dials Russia, hanging up on anyone else until Russia answers.

[kol_shevik]

After ignoring the phone for about twenty times (No, no thank you, the Braginski household would not like any good deals on hosiery for sexy Capitalist ladies today) and eying it suspiciously for about twenty more times, Russia finally picks up.

"...Привет?"

[supersizedpower]

America's patient, and keeps calling. When Russia finally picks up, he smiles to himself. "A1 through J10?"

[kol_shevik]

Russia's voice immediately tightens and you can practically feel the kolkolkol vibes through the phone lines. "Carpet Bombing is not allowed in Battleship game, little America."

Plot

[supersizedpower]

After getting off the phone with Russia, America picks something up, and slips it into the bag of toys from under the tree. He hits a switch, and something begins quietly humming and warming up inside the bag. He turns on the music playing just a little louder.

He goes downstairs, back into the party, and grins at the guests.

"Hey, everyone, presents! Gather 'round!"

And then he waits until as many have gotten close as possible, and he fires.

((All right, here goes. Inside the bag, America has Dr. Horrible's freeze ray. Although I said he hit the group, if you feel as though your character could feasible avoid getting hit by something that moves as fast as a gun blast, or wouldn't have gathered around, feel free to say they missed getting hit.

Characters that were hit will be frozen in time. However, unknown to America, the freeze ray is very glitchy, and anyone caught in it will only be frozen for a few minutes. If you're frozen, you won't miss any plot happenings.))

[is_an_island]

Well.

This was a terrible present.

[thebestnation]

All her suspicions have just been proved correct. Which sucks. Like, a lot.

[supersizedpower]

After having frozen everyone, America smiles and puts down the freeze ray, and pours himself a coke. Then he sits down to wait. Ten minutes left until the bomb goes off. And he's happy, happier than he's been in years, because it's all about to be over, he'll be dead and he won't have to worry anymore.

And he's saved them, he's saved everyone he loves in the whole world. He's found a way for them to survive even after he and Russia and the whole town are gone. So he raises a toast and drinks to being a hero.

"I really meant it," he tells all the frozen people. "I love you all. I did it for you."

Five minutes until the bomb goes off. And while he's downing his coke, suddenly, the freeze ray wears off and the frozen figures are able to move again.

He drops the coke and the bottle smashes on the ground, and he stares in blank horror. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

((And just to reiterate, Christmas Eve and all that, anyone feel free to jump in and say your character's been here all along at any point you like.))