[fan fic] hymn to the tune of a dirge
Title: hymn to the tune of a dirge: Act Two
Characters/Parings: Canada, America, Korea, Ukraine, and Poland. Poland/Ukraine and Canada/Ukraine do appear.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence, blood, depressing ending, and a penis joke.
Summary: Hetalia, meet Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog.
Note: Act One | Act Three
When Ukraine gave Poland her phone number after being rescued by him, she hadn’t expected to be asked out so soon. She’d accepted eagerly, and proposed they have dinner in one of her favourite places. It hadn’t occurred to her that perhaps a soup kitchen wasn’t the best of places to go on a date, she just wanted to show the superhero what sort of things she helped with. He seemed pretty interested, too.
“Look around,” she told him, “we’re living with the lost and found.” Poland smiled and nodded and she felt like she had to continue. “These people were all in trouble, and we brought them back to solid ground. They just prove, there’s good in everybody’s heart. We just have to keep it safe, give people hope, and their lives can turn around.” Poland was still smiling and watching her, and it warmed her heart to see the hero amongst some of the poorest people in the city. Perhaps this would help bring awareness to the homelessness problem in the city.
But in reality, she was already hopeful. She often couldn’t believe her eyes, because it seemed as though the world was finally growing wise. Perhaps it was only just her, but it felt as though there was a kind of harmony growing in the world.
The dinner at the soup kitchen had gone excellently, and at the end of the dinner Poland asked Ukraine if she wanted to go somewhere tomorrow, too. She had accepted (how could she not?) and the next day they went out to the park together. They sat on a bench quietly, eating frozen yogurt. Take it slow, Ukraine reminded herself. At the same time, he simply looked at her and seemed to know the things she was afraid to show him. And it felt so nice to be with Poland, because he was kind of sweet and made her smile.
He got into a paddle-boat and began driving across the lake at an astounding speed, taking moments to wave at her when she was in eyeshot. He had to be using his super-strength to go that fast. And it made her laugh, because it was simply such an absurd sight.
---
Canada had guessed that Poland would ask Ukraine out, but he hadn’t realised it would be so soon. He was making the walk to the soup kitchen Ukraine seemed to frequent as a volunteer, muttering to himself all the while. “Anyone with half a brain would see that humanity’s gone insane. Now I don’t even know if I’d upset the status quo if I threw poison in the water main.” People kept their distance from him, but he really did not care if he looked insane or not. Who cared what the crowds believed?
All around him, he could hear the sounds of breaking hearts, of hopes and dreams shattering apart and crashing to the ground. He hated it.
He walked past the front door of the soup kitchen, opting to come in from the back. He passed a window and saw Ukraine and Poland dining together, smiling and laughing. It looked like genuine date. “I can’t believe my eyes,” he whispered, “how much filth and lies there is in the world. But it’s plain to see the evil inside of me is on the rise.”
He sneaked into the soup kitchen, taking a fake moustache from his pocket and sticking it on haphazardly. Putting on an apron, Canada made his way to the front, where another worker was ladling the soup de jour (cauliflower, it looked like). He took the worker’s place with little fuss and started to ladle the cauliflower soup into the bowls people held out to him, staring at the back of Poland’s head.
Bushes were not a very comfortable hiding place, Canada knew from experience. But they worked, and after a while he’d finally given in a purchased a fake, movable one from the internet. This one was moderately more comfortable and certainly more mobile than a genuine bush. He poked his head out of the top and saw Ukraine and Poland sitting together, enjoying some frozen yogurt.
The angle was awkward, and so he lifted the bush and set it down only a few feet behind the bench. From his point of view he could see Poland shooing away some geese with his foot while Ukraine remained blissfully oblivious. She seemed to be constantly unaware that the dark was everywhere, and soon that dark in him was all that would remain.
When they moved to the water’s edge, Canada put away his bush (and hadn’t that gotten him strange looks) and he moved to the bridge nearby. Poland was behaving ridiculously, as usual, but Ukraine was watching him and laughing. Canada couldn’t understand why Poland made her smile, not when it was so obvious what sort of person he was.
---
“I can’t believe we’ve been coming here for so long and never spoken,” Ukraine said, taking her laundry and tossing it into a washing machine.
“I know,” Canada replied. Did he ever. “All those months doing such a boring chore…”
Ukraine was silent for a moment before replying, “I like doing laundry.”
Oh. Well. Canada tried to recover himself. “Nah, I actually love it.”
“The smell of fabric softener,” she suggested. Well, it was pleasant. “Feeling your clothes soft and warm.” That, Canada would admit, did feel very good.
Finally finished dropping his clothes in the machine, he reached over to grab the paper bag he’d left on the adjacent washer. “Huh,” he muttered, “this is strange. I asked for one frozen yogurt and they gave me two… Do you like frozen yogurt?”
“I love it,” Ukraine admitted.
“How serendipitous,” he remarked, handing over the yogurt and a spork. He sat down on his machine and leaned on the coin dispenser, eating a spoonful of yogurt. “So how was your weekend?” he asked. “Did you spend it getting more signatures?”
“Actually,” Ukraine replied, turning red, “I went on a date.”
“Really?” Canada asked. “And how did that go?”
“It was a surprise,” she admitted. “He’s very good-looking, and I sort of thought he was weird at first.”
“Trust your instincts,” Canada advised in a breath.
“But he is also very sweet,” she added. “Sometimes people are like that, very different underneath the surface.”
“And sometimes there’s a third, even deeper layer under that, that’s exactly the same as the first,” he said. Ukraine looked up at him, politely baffled by his statement. Canada bit the inside of his cheek for a brief second. Why did he have to constantly say those stupid things? “Like with pie,” he added. “So are you going to see him again?”
“I think I will,” she said, staring at her yogurt. Canada nodded and planted a smile on his face, keeping his jaw tightly shut.
Finally, Ukraine said, “Canada?” He made a noise in response in order to stop himself from letting out a string of curses. “What are you doing with your spork?” Now Canada looked down at his hand, and surprised to see he was gripping it tightly, driving the little plastic tines into his leg. Ouch. It actually kind of hurt now.
“Oh, nothing,” he lied with a little laugh. Ukraine laughed uneasily and he replied with another giggle.
---
Re: Freeze ray is finished!
JohnnySnow
2010-03-16 3:02 pm (local) (link)
thats such a lame frze ray, mind is much coole rthan yours (haha, geddit?). i bet you’ll get caut.
Re: Freeze ray is finished!
Lady Armageddon
2010-03-16 4:30 pm (local) (link)
Damn troll. I think I’ll dredge the forums again soon and get rid of those.
Re: Freeze ray is finished!
Lady Armageddon
2010-03-16 4:21 pm (local) (link)
Good luck on your mission, America.
Oh dear, problems in your personal life? If Poland is as big an idiot as you say, the girl’s going to eventually notice, and then you can play the rebound. Just wait things through, you’ll see.
Re: Freeze ray is finished!
LiechtensteinGirl
2010-03-16 4:40 pm (local) (link)
Are you sure it’s wise to say these things on your blog? Surely someone with connections to the law sees this regularly and is able to react to what you post. I would hate to see anyone like yourself being accosted by the law for trying to change things.
Either way, I wish you the best of luck on your mission and in getting back the girl you like. She’s bound to notice someone as passionate about things like you given time.
Re: Freeze ray is finished!
Bad_Horse_rules!
2010-03-16 6:54 pm (local) (link)
Can’t wait to see you in the League, man!
Lady Armageddon
2010-03-16 8:47 pm (local) (link)
Consider your forums dredged of all trolls, heroes, and obvious policemen.
A car at your head? Does Poland even think that the car might belong to someone?! At least you survived, but there really should be a law against behaving like an utter asshat.
America
2010-03-16 8:55 pm (local) (link)
Thank you for getting the forums, I really wasn’t looking forward to going through them tomorrow.
Try telling that to our municipal government. People were cheering when Poland almost decapitated me. Cheering.
that was fail
2sly4U
2010-03-16 9:34 pm (local) (link)
you honestly forgot about warm-up times? that’s stupid, you invented the thing. if you’re going to be serious about this whole “ruling the world” thing you have to slow down and think these things through, so that you won’t get hit by a car a hero was throwing at you.
Last chance, kid.
Prussia
2010-03-16 10:13 pm (local) (link)
I saw the operation
You tried to pull today,
But your humiliation
Means I still vote “nay”.
And now assassination
Is just the only way…
There will be blood,
It might be yours,
So go kill someone.
Signed,
Prussia
PS Not every letter I send is the f---ing Iliad, get over it.
Re: Last chance, kid.
Bad_Horse_rules!
2010-03-16 11:02 pm (local) (link)
Holy shit, a comment from Prussia? Seriously?
---
Canada nearly fainted when he saw a comment from Prussia on his most recent blog entry. He’d gone to sleep utterly miserable, and now the rest of the day wasn’t looking so hot, either.
“Kill someone?” Korea asked when he came over. He enjoyed occasionally lurking on Canada’s blog, it made sense he would know about Prussia’s letter without it being explained.
“Would you?” Canada wondered. “To get into the Evil League of Evil?”
Korea scoffed. “I’m not badass enough to have a hope of getting in, as long as my inventions keep falling apart. At least yours work most of the time.” He handed Canada his mail and made his way towards the kitchen. Canada followed.
“Killing isn’t… I’ve avoided hurting people besides Poland up to now--” Korea laughed at him, “--why would I want to suddenly kill someone?” His mail contained the usual. Fliers for self-confidence lectures, a small booklet of supermarket coupons, someone else’s mail…
“You’ve done more than enough evil hours to get in the Henchmen Union. It could be fun, you hanging out with all of us. You remember Seychelles, right? She’d die of joy if you joined.” He went into his cupboards and found a jar of peanut butter.
“I’m not a henchman,” Canada dismissed. “I’m America, one of the greatest evil minds to walk the earth.”
“Lex Luthor wouldn’t be happy to hear you saying that,” Korea said, dipping his finger in the peanut butter. Canada tactfully ignored him.
“I deserve to get in, you know I do. But… killing someone?” He started to pace nervously.
“I hear Russia found a kid that grows up to be president of some big country. That would be big, wouldn’t it?” Korea replied, his mouth full of peanut butter.
“There’s no way I’m going to kill a little kid,” Canada snapped back. He was evil, not a psychopath. There was a huge difference.
“Smother an old lady,” Korea added between another finger of peanut butter.
“Do I even know you?” he challenged. Korea just shrugged. Perhaps if he kept this up he could convince Canada to call off the whole killing thing once and for all.
---
Canada sat with Ukraine on top of the washing machines, both of them enjoying a frozen yogurt. This conversation seemed to be coming easier, if he could judge by the fewer number of awkward pauses.
“I just… I think I’m really qualified for this job,” he explained glumly. “And I can’t seem to get my foot in the door.”
“I’m sure you will,” Ukraine encouraged with a smile. Nothing if not an optimist, a trait Canada couldn’t help but admire.
“I just… want to do great things in life. To be an achiever. Like Prussia,” he admitted. Ukraine’s face immediately twisted into one of bafflement and alarm, quite a contrast from what was becoming her default expression around him, a look of polite confusion and great interest. “I meant Gandhi,” he lied uselessly. However, Ukraine seemed to be okay with that correction and instantly relaxed.
“Well, I’ve been turned done many times during job applications. Even fired.” She shrugged and took another sporkful of frozen yogurt.
“I can’t imagine anyone firing you,” Canada replied with a blush.
“Neither did I,” Ukraine mumbled. “Now I can… very well.” She sighed a little. “But, everything happens--”
“Please don’t say ‘for a reason’,” Canada cut off.
“No,” she replied softly, “just, everything happens.”
He looked away and breathed a sad, “Not to me.”
Ukraine turned so that her feet were dangling off the end of the machine and stared at her frozen yogurt. “There once was a little girl who grew up very sad and lonesome. She had a younger brother and sister whom she loved very much, but it always seemed like there was trouble dogging her home and family. So the younger brother and sister left me.” She blushed a touch, but continued. “It hurt. A lot. I haven’t talked face to face with them in years, although I do see them sometimes. But I noticed, no matter sad my life was, it always seemed there were people with a sadder lot in life. I decided to help them. Since then my dreams have been easier to reach, seeing as hope is all I want to give…” She set aside her yogurt and slid off the washing machine, wandering slowly to the large windows at the front of the Laundromat. Canada followed silently.
"But, something I've learned... even when bad things happen, something good can be found in it. Like the rain. It causes so much trouble, but every drop of rain brings water to seeds in the ground." She sat down on the sole bench in the Laundromat and gestured for Canada to sit with her. He stared at his own leg, unwilling to look Ukraine in the eye. Her gentle optimism was admirable, and he wanted to make sure she would always find the good in life, but he couldn't stand to look at her and say his world was far too dark for that.
One of her hands slipped under his chin and he turned up to face her, trying to hide his surprise. She held his gaze and said, "So keep your head up, Canada. You can do it."
Her fingertips were very soft, and the sweetness of her voice was making his stomach flip. He felt kind of sick, but in a good way, tingling even as his breath started to go ragged and his cheeks took on a slight flush. This was such a nice feeling, he leaned forward a little, intent on soaking in some more. Ukraine seemed to be feeling the same, they way she was moving towards him, just a little.
Suddenly, her hand was gone and she turned away with a blush. "It's like what Poland is always saying," she explained hurriedly. Canada's shoulders sank and he looked down again, the nice tingling replaced with a feeling of general heaviness, especially in his chest.
"Right," he said, trying to keep that dark heaviness from coming into his voice. "So, how are things with Mr. weird-on-the-outside?"
"Good, they're... they're good," Ukraine said. Canada took a glance out of the corner of his eye and saw her mouth a little, "He's nice." She suddenly turned to him again, and he couldn't help but mimic the movement. "I'm curious to see what you think of him, he said he might come over."
Canada's eyes widened and his pulse sped up. "Come over here?" he asked, trying to stay calm. Ukraine nodded.
"Oh, goodness," he said. He needed an excuse to leave, now. He looked to his watch and pulled down his sleeve. Right, he had lent the watch to Korea for the afternoon while his was getting fixed. "Look at my wrist," he said quickly, "I have to run." He stood and tried to rush towards the door without looking suspicious.
"What about your clothes?" Ukraine asked.
Well, that was a reasonable question. He turned to his washer and looked inside. He was completely uninterested in his clothes, but if he didn't seem worried he would be even more suspicious than if he just ran out.
"I don't love these," he replied, the words coming out of his mouth without a thought. He slammed the lid down and tried to leave, only to collide with something or someone extremely solid. He winced and took a step back, ducking to check his pained shoulder.
"Oh, m'bad," Poland said flippantly. Canada apologised back, taking a quick glance up to see that it was in fact Poland. He ducked his head again.
"Oh, Canada, this is Poland," Ukraine introduced, coming to Poland's side with a smile.
"Canada, the laundry buddy? You're so adorable," the hero gushed, shaking his hand with a smirk. "How'd you score such a cute friend, Ukraine?" he asked, turning to his girlfriend.
"We've been doing laundry here for ages," she provided.
"But you do look, like, crazy familiar," Poland added, looking Canada in the eye. Or trying to. He was looking to the side, blinking excessively, anything to keep his identity under wraps.
"One of those faces?" Canada suggested. He prayed, let it only be a coincidence...
"Nah, you look like the all-American dude from my high school!" Poland declared with a grin. Canada's heart skipped a beat. It had to be a coincidence, just a coincidence that he looked "American".
"Anyways, who wants to get into some mayoral gossip?" he asked, now looking squarely at Ukraine. "'Cause I heard that a certain building is gonna be turned into, y'know, a homeless shelter?"
"Oh my," Ukraine gasped, a hand in front of her mouth. It was still clear she was grinning, though.
"I know 'cause I gave the signature that convinced him," he boasted. "The only one he needed was my fist!" There was a brief pause as Poland held up his fist before he amended his statement, "With a pen in it, so that I can sign, duh."
"That's wonderful!" Ukraine said, getting excited.
"Congratulations," Canada mumbled. But Ukraine was thanking Poland, a huge smile on her face. She threw her arms around his neck and they kissed. Canada glanced away, hoping his stomach wouldn't turn quite so violently. Suddenly the drier buzzed and Ukraine left to get her clothes, Poland smiling after her.
"Well, this has been fun, wish I could stay, but sorry, I--" Canada said all in one breath. Poland sidestepped in front of Canada instead and slung a chummy arm around him.
"Welp, it was cool to finally get to meet you, America," he said brightly. Canada's heart sank into his stomach and all at once he knew he'd lost. He turned to Ukraine to make sure she hadn't heard, and then back to Poland for only a second. His shoes were suddenly terribly interesting and one of the only things in the room he could bear to look at.
"You've gotta crush on her, don'tcha? Well, I'm so not sorry to say this, anyways. See, I think I'm gonna bring 'Kraine down to my pad, and, y'know, do something totally fun. Like show her some of my awesome cars and braid her hair n'stuff. Then maybe we could, I dunno, play dress-up or somethin'? Y'know, make her totally hot'n bothered. She digs me now, but jus' wait a bit and she'll be head over heels. I think I'll, like, give her the night of her life." He grasped Canada by the shoulders and made the smaller man face him. "Jus' cause you want her. And I get all that stuff you want."
Canada tried to look him in the eyes, feeling something just behind his ribs crumble into dust. He wondered if his knees were shaking from the sheer blow. Still, he gaze remained hard, his instinctive dislike of Poland trumping whatever shock his system could and would endure.
"I know that I like to, like, whale on you likea hammer and stuff, but when I'm with Ukraine," he held up his fists menacingly but did not hit Canada, "these ain't my hammer." He turned to leave, Canada still standing and reeling despite his resolute face. Poland turned around at the door, as if he had remembered something, and returned.
"The hammer is my penis," he added. Ukraine returned a moment later, holding her basket of clean laundry, and Poland slipped an arm around her as they left, Ukraine casting one fleeting smile at Canada in the process.
Canada's knees stopped trembling and his nausea ceased, that crumbled thing in his chest replaced with something hard and unbending. Canada couldn't handle this, but America certainly could. He went back to his washer calmly, waiting for the machine to finish. It only took a minute to do so, and as he moved his cold, soggy clothes to the drier he whispered, “This used to be a moral dilemma, didn’t it? I swore to eliminate the worst of the plague that is devouring humanity, and it’s true I was vague on the ‘how’. So how is it that you showed me the light?”
He sat in silence on the bench in the Laundromat and waited for his clothes to dry. He was thinking back, to all the times he’d been beaten into unconsciousness by Poland. A spring afternoon had found him interrupted in a small stake-out he was doing for Hungary, Poland lifted him by his collar, slammed him into the alley wall, and then did so again. And again. When some red started staining the wall Poland had stopped and let him slump to the ground, coming to a few hours later when Hungary found him.
The sweltering heat of summer brought him to that same alley (the bloodstains still on the wall), and when Poland found him. Holding him by his collar, he slammed his fist into the villain’s jaw repeatedly, only halting once so a tourist could take a photograph of the beating before Poland continued. Autumn there had been no better, with him left on the ground spitting blood as he passed out, all thanks to one extremely powerful crack to the mouth. Winter, though. Winter had to be the worst. It had been snowing, and he had been left there overnight, no Hungary to check on him. In the end, Korea had found him, hypothermic and unconscious under a good centimetre of snow. It had taken him a week to get back to something close to normal, and even longer to get back to a hundred percent.
Well, that passive, nice guy thing would have to stop. If Poland was not going to hold back, he couldn’t either. It was a brand new day, after all. He would just have to make the best of it.
He returned to his apartment and picked up the photograph of Ukraine he kept nicely framed on his side table. He serenely ran one finger down the frame, admiring how the leaves framing the shot gave a slightly supernatural feel to the woman, who had been sitting on a park bench and reading when he took the shot. Then he set the picture aside and went into his lab, pulling on a labcoat as he went. He had some work to do.
Characters/Parings: Canada, America, Korea, Ukraine, and Poland. Poland/Ukraine and Canada/Ukraine do appear.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence, blood, depressing ending, and a penis joke.
Summary: Hetalia, meet Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog.
Note: Act One | Act Three
When Ukraine gave Poland her phone number after being rescued by him, she hadn’t expected to be asked out so soon. She’d accepted eagerly, and proposed they have dinner in one of her favourite places. It hadn’t occurred to her that perhaps a soup kitchen wasn’t the best of places to go on a date, she just wanted to show the superhero what sort of things she helped with. He seemed pretty interested, too.
“Look around,” she told him, “we’re living with the lost and found.” Poland smiled and nodded and she felt like she had to continue. “These people were all in trouble, and we brought them back to solid ground. They just prove, there’s good in everybody’s heart. We just have to keep it safe, give people hope, and their lives can turn around.” Poland was still smiling and watching her, and it warmed her heart to see the hero amongst some of the poorest people in the city. Perhaps this would help bring awareness to the homelessness problem in the city.
But in reality, she was already hopeful. She often couldn’t believe her eyes, because it seemed as though the world was finally growing wise. Perhaps it was only just her, but it felt as though there was a kind of harmony growing in the world.
The dinner at the soup kitchen had gone excellently, and at the end of the dinner Poland asked Ukraine if she wanted to go somewhere tomorrow, too. She had accepted (how could she not?) and the next day they went out to the park together. They sat on a bench quietly, eating frozen yogurt. Take it slow, Ukraine reminded herself. At the same time, he simply looked at her and seemed to know the things she was afraid to show him. And it felt so nice to be with Poland, because he was kind of sweet and made her smile.
He got into a paddle-boat and began driving across the lake at an astounding speed, taking moments to wave at her when she was in eyeshot. He had to be using his super-strength to go that fast. And it made her laugh, because it was simply such an absurd sight.
---
Canada had guessed that Poland would ask Ukraine out, but he hadn’t realised it would be so soon. He was making the walk to the soup kitchen Ukraine seemed to frequent as a volunteer, muttering to himself all the while. “Anyone with half a brain would see that humanity’s gone insane. Now I don’t even know if I’d upset the status quo if I threw poison in the water main.” People kept their distance from him, but he really did not care if he looked insane or not. Who cared what the crowds believed?
All around him, he could hear the sounds of breaking hearts, of hopes and dreams shattering apart and crashing to the ground. He hated it.
He walked past the front door of the soup kitchen, opting to come in from the back. He passed a window and saw Ukraine and Poland dining together, smiling and laughing. It looked like genuine date. “I can’t believe my eyes,” he whispered, “how much filth and lies there is in the world. But it’s plain to see the evil inside of me is on the rise.”
He sneaked into the soup kitchen, taking a fake moustache from his pocket and sticking it on haphazardly. Putting on an apron, Canada made his way to the front, where another worker was ladling the soup de jour (cauliflower, it looked like). He took the worker’s place with little fuss and started to ladle the cauliflower soup into the bowls people held out to him, staring at the back of Poland’s head.
Bushes were not a very comfortable hiding place, Canada knew from experience. But they worked, and after a while he’d finally given in a purchased a fake, movable one from the internet. This one was moderately more comfortable and certainly more mobile than a genuine bush. He poked his head out of the top and saw Ukraine and Poland sitting together, enjoying some frozen yogurt.
The angle was awkward, and so he lifted the bush and set it down only a few feet behind the bench. From his point of view he could see Poland shooing away some geese with his foot while Ukraine remained blissfully oblivious. She seemed to be constantly unaware that the dark was everywhere, and soon that dark in him was all that would remain.
When they moved to the water’s edge, Canada put away his bush (and hadn’t that gotten him strange looks) and he moved to the bridge nearby. Poland was behaving ridiculously, as usual, but Ukraine was watching him and laughing. Canada couldn’t understand why Poland made her smile, not when it was so obvious what sort of person he was.
---
“I can’t believe we’ve been coming here for so long and never spoken,” Ukraine said, taking her laundry and tossing it into a washing machine.
“I know,” Canada replied. Did he ever. “All those months doing such a boring chore…”
Ukraine was silent for a moment before replying, “I like doing laundry.”
Oh. Well. Canada tried to recover himself. “Nah, I actually love it.”
“The smell of fabric softener,” she suggested. Well, it was pleasant. “Feeling your clothes soft and warm.” That, Canada would admit, did feel very good.
Finally finished dropping his clothes in the machine, he reached over to grab the paper bag he’d left on the adjacent washer. “Huh,” he muttered, “this is strange. I asked for one frozen yogurt and they gave me two… Do you like frozen yogurt?”
“I love it,” Ukraine admitted.
“How serendipitous,” he remarked, handing over the yogurt and a spork. He sat down on his machine and leaned on the coin dispenser, eating a spoonful of yogurt. “So how was your weekend?” he asked. “Did you spend it getting more signatures?”
“Actually,” Ukraine replied, turning red, “I went on a date.”
“Really?” Canada asked. “And how did that go?”
“It was a surprise,” she admitted. “He’s very good-looking, and I sort of thought he was weird at first.”
“Trust your instincts,” Canada advised in a breath.
“But he is also very sweet,” she added. “Sometimes people are like that, very different underneath the surface.”
“And sometimes there’s a third, even deeper layer under that, that’s exactly the same as the first,” he said. Ukraine looked up at him, politely baffled by his statement. Canada bit the inside of his cheek for a brief second. Why did he have to constantly say those stupid things? “Like with pie,” he added. “So are you going to see him again?”
“I think I will,” she said, staring at her yogurt. Canada nodded and planted a smile on his face, keeping his jaw tightly shut.
Finally, Ukraine said, “Canada?” He made a noise in response in order to stop himself from letting out a string of curses. “What are you doing with your spork?” Now Canada looked down at his hand, and surprised to see he was gripping it tightly, driving the little plastic tines into his leg. Ouch. It actually kind of hurt now.
“Oh, nothing,” he lied with a little laugh. Ukraine laughed uneasily and he replied with another giggle.
---
Re: Freeze ray is finished!
JohnnySnow
2010-03-16 3:02 pm (local) (link)
thats such a lame frze ray, mind is much coole rthan yours (haha, geddit?). i bet you’ll get caut.
Re: Freeze ray is finished!
Lady Armageddon
2010-03-16 4:30 pm (local) (link)
Damn troll. I think I’ll dredge the forums again soon and get rid of those.
Re: Freeze ray is finished!
Lady Armageddon
2010-03-16 4:21 pm (local) (link)
Good luck on your mission, America.
Oh dear, problems in your personal life? If Poland is as big an idiot as you say, the girl’s going to eventually notice, and then you can play the rebound. Just wait things through, you’ll see.
Re: Freeze ray is finished!
LiechtensteinGirl
2010-03-16 4:40 pm (local) (link)
Are you sure it’s wise to say these things on your blog? Surely someone with connections to the law sees this regularly and is able to react to what you post. I would hate to see anyone like yourself being accosted by the law for trying to change things.
Either way, I wish you the best of luck on your mission and in getting back the girl you like. She’s bound to notice someone as passionate about things like you given time.
Re: Freeze ray is finished!
Bad_Horse_rules!
2010-03-16 6:54 pm (local) (link)
Can’t wait to see you in the League, man!
Lady Armageddon
2010-03-16 8:47 pm (local) (link)
Consider your forums dredged of all trolls, heroes, and obvious policemen.
A car at your head? Does Poland even think that the car might belong to someone?! At least you survived, but there really should be a law against behaving like an utter asshat.
America
2010-03-16 8:55 pm (local) (link)
Thank you for getting the forums, I really wasn’t looking forward to going through them tomorrow.
Try telling that to our municipal government. People were cheering when Poland almost decapitated me. Cheering.
that was fail
2sly4U
2010-03-16 9:34 pm (local) (link)
you honestly forgot about warm-up times? that’s stupid, you invented the thing. if you’re going to be serious about this whole “ruling the world” thing you have to slow down and think these things through, so that you won’t get hit by a car a hero was throwing at you.
Last chance, kid.
Prussia
2010-03-16 10:13 pm (local) (link)
I saw the operation
You tried to pull today,
But your humiliation
Means I still vote “nay”.
And now assassination
Is just the only way…
There will be blood,
It might be yours,
So go kill someone.
Signed,
Prussia
PS Not every letter I send is the f---ing Iliad, get over it.
Re: Last chance, kid.
Bad_Horse_rules!
2010-03-16 11:02 pm (local) (link)
Holy shit, a comment from Prussia? Seriously?
---
Canada nearly fainted when he saw a comment from Prussia on his most recent blog entry. He’d gone to sleep utterly miserable, and now the rest of the day wasn’t looking so hot, either.
“Kill someone?” Korea asked when he came over. He enjoyed occasionally lurking on Canada’s blog, it made sense he would know about Prussia’s letter without it being explained.
“Would you?” Canada wondered. “To get into the Evil League of Evil?”
Korea scoffed. “I’m not badass enough to have a hope of getting in, as long as my inventions keep falling apart. At least yours work most of the time.” He handed Canada his mail and made his way towards the kitchen. Canada followed.
“Killing isn’t… I’ve avoided hurting people besides Poland up to now--” Korea laughed at him, “--why would I want to suddenly kill someone?” His mail contained the usual. Fliers for self-confidence lectures, a small booklet of supermarket coupons, someone else’s mail…
“You’ve done more than enough evil hours to get in the Henchmen Union. It could be fun, you hanging out with all of us. You remember Seychelles, right? She’d die of joy if you joined.” He went into his cupboards and found a jar of peanut butter.
“I’m not a henchman,” Canada dismissed. “I’m America, one of the greatest evil minds to walk the earth.”
“Lex Luthor wouldn’t be happy to hear you saying that,” Korea said, dipping his finger in the peanut butter. Canada tactfully ignored him.
“I deserve to get in, you know I do. But… killing someone?” He started to pace nervously.
“I hear Russia found a kid that grows up to be president of some big country. That would be big, wouldn’t it?” Korea replied, his mouth full of peanut butter.
“There’s no way I’m going to kill a little kid,” Canada snapped back. He was evil, not a psychopath. There was a huge difference.
“Smother an old lady,” Korea added between another finger of peanut butter.
“Do I even know you?” he challenged. Korea just shrugged. Perhaps if he kept this up he could convince Canada to call off the whole killing thing once and for all.
---
Canada sat with Ukraine on top of the washing machines, both of them enjoying a frozen yogurt. This conversation seemed to be coming easier, if he could judge by the fewer number of awkward pauses.
“I just… I think I’m really qualified for this job,” he explained glumly. “And I can’t seem to get my foot in the door.”
“I’m sure you will,” Ukraine encouraged with a smile. Nothing if not an optimist, a trait Canada couldn’t help but admire.
“I just… want to do great things in life. To be an achiever. Like Prussia,” he admitted. Ukraine’s face immediately twisted into one of bafflement and alarm, quite a contrast from what was becoming her default expression around him, a look of polite confusion and great interest. “I meant Gandhi,” he lied uselessly. However, Ukraine seemed to be okay with that correction and instantly relaxed.
“Well, I’ve been turned done many times during job applications. Even fired.” She shrugged and took another sporkful of frozen yogurt.
“I can’t imagine anyone firing you,” Canada replied with a blush.
“Neither did I,” Ukraine mumbled. “Now I can… very well.” She sighed a little. “But, everything happens--”
“Please don’t say ‘for a reason’,” Canada cut off.
“No,” she replied softly, “just, everything happens.”
He looked away and breathed a sad, “Not to me.”
Ukraine turned so that her feet were dangling off the end of the machine and stared at her frozen yogurt. “There once was a little girl who grew up very sad and lonesome. She had a younger brother and sister whom she loved very much, but it always seemed like there was trouble dogging her home and family. So the younger brother and sister left me.” She blushed a touch, but continued. “It hurt. A lot. I haven’t talked face to face with them in years, although I do see them sometimes. But I noticed, no matter sad my life was, it always seemed there were people with a sadder lot in life. I decided to help them. Since then my dreams have been easier to reach, seeing as hope is all I want to give…” She set aside her yogurt and slid off the washing machine, wandering slowly to the large windows at the front of the Laundromat. Canada followed silently.
"But, something I've learned... even when bad things happen, something good can be found in it. Like the rain. It causes so much trouble, but every drop of rain brings water to seeds in the ground." She sat down on the sole bench in the Laundromat and gestured for Canada to sit with her. He stared at his own leg, unwilling to look Ukraine in the eye. Her gentle optimism was admirable, and he wanted to make sure she would always find the good in life, but he couldn't stand to look at her and say his world was far too dark for that.
One of her hands slipped under his chin and he turned up to face her, trying to hide his surprise. She held his gaze and said, "So keep your head up, Canada. You can do it."
Her fingertips were very soft, and the sweetness of her voice was making his stomach flip. He felt kind of sick, but in a good way, tingling even as his breath started to go ragged and his cheeks took on a slight flush. This was such a nice feeling, he leaned forward a little, intent on soaking in some more. Ukraine seemed to be feeling the same, they way she was moving towards him, just a little.
Suddenly, her hand was gone and she turned away with a blush. "It's like what Poland is always saying," she explained hurriedly. Canada's shoulders sank and he looked down again, the nice tingling replaced with a feeling of general heaviness, especially in his chest.
"Right," he said, trying to keep that dark heaviness from coming into his voice. "So, how are things with Mr. weird-on-the-outside?"
"Good, they're... they're good," Ukraine said. Canada took a glance out of the corner of his eye and saw her mouth a little, "He's nice." She suddenly turned to him again, and he couldn't help but mimic the movement. "I'm curious to see what you think of him, he said he might come over."
Canada's eyes widened and his pulse sped up. "Come over here?" he asked, trying to stay calm. Ukraine nodded.
"Oh, goodness," he said. He needed an excuse to leave, now. He looked to his watch and pulled down his sleeve. Right, he had lent the watch to Korea for the afternoon while his was getting fixed. "Look at my wrist," he said quickly, "I have to run." He stood and tried to rush towards the door without looking suspicious.
"What about your clothes?" Ukraine asked.
Well, that was a reasonable question. He turned to his washer and looked inside. He was completely uninterested in his clothes, but if he didn't seem worried he would be even more suspicious than if he just ran out.
"I don't love these," he replied, the words coming out of his mouth without a thought. He slammed the lid down and tried to leave, only to collide with something or someone extremely solid. He winced and took a step back, ducking to check his pained shoulder.
"Oh, m'bad," Poland said flippantly. Canada apologised back, taking a quick glance up to see that it was in fact Poland. He ducked his head again.
"Oh, Canada, this is Poland," Ukraine introduced, coming to Poland's side with a smile.
"Canada, the laundry buddy? You're so adorable," the hero gushed, shaking his hand with a smirk. "How'd you score such a cute friend, Ukraine?" he asked, turning to his girlfriend.
"We've been doing laundry here for ages," she provided.
"But you do look, like, crazy familiar," Poland added, looking Canada in the eye. Or trying to. He was looking to the side, blinking excessively, anything to keep his identity under wraps.
"One of those faces?" Canada suggested. He prayed, let it only be a coincidence...
"Nah, you look like the all-American dude from my high school!" Poland declared with a grin. Canada's heart skipped a beat. It had to be a coincidence, just a coincidence that he looked "American".
"Anyways, who wants to get into some mayoral gossip?" he asked, now looking squarely at Ukraine. "'Cause I heard that a certain building is gonna be turned into, y'know, a homeless shelter?"
"Oh my," Ukraine gasped, a hand in front of her mouth. It was still clear she was grinning, though.
"I know 'cause I gave the signature that convinced him," he boasted. "The only one he needed was my fist!" There was a brief pause as Poland held up his fist before he amended his statement, "With a pen in it, so that I can sign, duh."
"That's wonderful!" Ukraine said, getting excited.
"Congratulations," Canada mumbled. But Ukraine was thanking Poland, a huge smile on her face. She threw her arms around his neck and they kissed. Canada glanced away, hoping his stomach wouldn't turn quite so violently. Suddenly the drier buzzed and Ukraine left to get her clothes, Poland smiling after her.
"Well, this has been fun, wish I could stay, but sorry, I--" Canada said all in one breath. Poland sidestepped in front of Canada instead and slung a chummy arm around him.
"Welp, it was cool to finally get to meet you, America," he said brightly. Canada's heart sank into his stomach and all at once he knew he'd lost. He turned to Ukraine to make sure she hadn't heard, and then back to Poland for only a second. His shoes were suddenly terribly interesting and one of the only things in the room he could bear to look at.
"You've gotta crush on her, don'tcha? Well, I'm so not sorry to say this, anyways. See, I think I'm gonna bring 'Kraine down to my pad, and, y'know, do something totally fun. Like show her some of my awesome cars and braid her hair n'stuff. Then maybe we could, I dunno, play dress-up or somethin'? Y'know, make her totally hot'n bothered. She digs me now, but jus' wait a bit and she'll be head over heels. I think I'll, like, give her the night of her life." He grasped Canada by the shoulders and made the smaller man face him. "Jus' cause you want her. And I get all that stuff you want."
Canada tried to look him in the eyes, feeling something just behind his ribs crumble into dust. He wondered if his knees were shaking from the sheer blow. Still, he gaze remained hard, his instinctive dislike of Poland trumping whatever shock his system could and would endure.
"I know that I like to, like, whale on you likea hammer and stuff, but when I'm with Ukraine," he held up his fists menacingly but did not hit Canada, "these ain't my hammer." He turned to leave, Canada still standing and reeling despite his resolute face. Poland turned around at the door, as if he had remembered something, and returned.
"The hammer is my penis," he added. Ukraine returned a moment later, holding her basket of clean laundry, and Poland slipped an arm around her as they left, Ukraine casting one fleeting smile at Canada in the process.
Canada's knees stopped trembling and his nausea ceased, that crumbled thing in his chest replaced with something hard and unbending. Canada couldn't handle this, but America certainly could. He went back to his washer calmly, waiting for the machine to finish. It only took a minute to do so, and as he moved his cold, soggy clothes to the drier he whispered, “This used to be a moral dilemma, didn’t it? I swore to eliminate the worst of the plague that is devouring humanity, and it’s true I was vague on the ‘how’. So how is it that you showed me the light?”
He sat in silence on the bench in the Laundromat and waited for his clothes to dry. He was thinking back, to all the times he’d been beaten into unconsciousness by Poland. A spring afternoon had found him interrupted in a small stake-out he was doing for Hungary, Poland lifted him by his collar, slammed him into the alley wall, and then did so again. And again. When some red started staining the wall Poland had stopped and let him slump to the ground, coming to a few hours later when Hungary found him.
The sweltering heat of summer brought him to that same alley (the bloodstains still on the wall), and when Poland found him. Holding him by his collar, he slammed his fist into the villain’s jaw repeatedly, only halting once so a tourist could take a photograph of the beating before Poland continued. Autumn there had been no better, with him left on the ground spitting blood as he passed out, all thanks to one extremely powerful crack to the mouth. Winter, though. Winter had to be the worst. It had been snowing, and he had been left there overnight, no Hungary to check on him. In the end, Korea had found him, hypothermic and unconscious under a good centimetre of snow. It had taken him a week to get back to something close to normal, and even longer to get back to a hundred percent.
Well, that passive, nice guy thing would have to stop. If Poland was not going to hold back, he couldn’t either. It was a brand new day, after all. He would just have to make the best of it.
He returned to his apartment and picked up the photograph of Ukraine he kept nicely framed on his side table. He serenely ran one finger down the frame, admiring how the leaves framing the shot gave a slightly supernatural feel to the woman, who had been sitting on a park bench and reading when he took the shot. Then he set the picture aside and went into his lab, pulling on a labcoat as he went. He had some work to do.