a totter'd weed of small worth held

[pixietea]

Characters: England and all of you!
Setting: Floor fifteen, the workshop or floor thirteen, the cathedral.
Format: Starting prose. Have action? Will match!
Summary: Everyone has different ways of dealing with stress. England's chief outlets are consumption of tea, and a seam well-sewn.
Warnings: None yet (aside from England having girly hobbies and me

Comments

Floor 13!

[eastern_awsum]

Prussia hadn't been himself. Even now after everything had settled down and he'd found himself not replaying the same routine and believing that the tower was a good place he'd settled into a monotony of wandering the halls and floors like an overly grumpy ghost.

The cathedral was one of the few places that made him feel nearly human once again. But even the cathedral pressed in on him, reminding him of how he was trapped and merely waiting for judgement if he did eventually fade from the tower.

Ghosting by the pew Arthur was in the colour of the thread caught his attention. It was a nice colour, especially since the rest of the tower lacked it.

"Nice colour choice."

[eastern_awsum]

"Yeah, should be 'If you don't kiss ass you finish last'," Prussia grumbled and simmered in his seat. He was angry and depressed, upset at everything that had happened and how he felt like he'd once again lost himself.

Prussia sighed and looked at England for a moment and smirked, "You're alright England."

[pixietea]

England gave a short breath of a laugh in agreement at Prussia's retort. He knotted the thread of his current stitch and snapped off the end, the elegant shape of a Tudor rose now completely outlined on the square of cloth bound by the hoop.

He sequentially furrowed his eyebrows and then raised one in bemusement as he looked at Prussia. Strange, he didn't usually get compliments on his company unless he was hammered, as far as he could remember.

Despite being evidently a little taken off-guard, England tried not to look too surprised. "Shocking, isn't it?" he returned once he found his composure again. "I could say the same for you, as well, in less simplified terms."

He didn't want to outright say that Prussia was alright, so his roundabout compliment would have to do.

[eastern_awsum]

"Awww, come on, I'm not your favourite person to talk to, really?" It was sarcasm but with humour in it. At this time he glanced at the tudor rose and smirked before reaching over and tapping the edge of the loop. "That family gave you hell. You still stitching their roses?" he raised an eyebrow and moved his hand back to the aged wood of the pew ahead of him.

"Then again, I still have black eagles stitched into most of my things," he mumbled to himself and was drawn back into himself for a moment or two. Red eyes looking at the rose before he pulled himself back. "The irony there would be if you stitched a white rose beside it."