[fanfic] What a Wonderful World (3)
Aug. 7th, 2009 02:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
historizeTitle: What a Wonderful World (Part three)
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
historyblitz, kept track of at historize
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Basically, everyone. This particular part has Spain, Prussia, Burma, India, China, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, England and France. Also Denmark, Canada, Russia, Norway, Iceland, Finland, and Greenland.
Rating: thematic R
Warnings: violence, lots of Viking Violence for great justice.
Summary: Basically, World War III
posted here
Spain was dozing on the floor on his cell. He was curled up in the corner, head leaning slightly on the bars so he was half-facing Burma, who had curled up on the other side of the bars with him. He jumped when the door opened and an angry shriek filled the cells. Spain blinked quickly, eyes adjusting to the dim light of early morning.
The sound of Prussia laughing brought Spain completely out of the haze of sleep. He was standing in a flash and Burma was quick to get on his knees, watching.
Prussia came into view just as the first rays of morning light pierced through the bars high up the walls. He blinked into it and dragged his prisoner forward. This figure, smallish and slim, was struggling mightily but the face was covered in a black cloth sack.
“Prussia!” Spain went to the bars. “Who is that?!”
Prussia walked towards the back wall, where Spain and Burma’s cell were and then turned to his right and opened up another cell. It shared one wall of bars with Burma’s cell so the three made an L-shape. Prussia didn’t speak until he got the door open and drug the figure inside. “Good morning, Spain. How did you sleep? How about you, Burma? You get comfortable soon enough.”
His hands were steady as he threw the small figure to the stone floor and knelt on it, working off the black sack.
“India!” And Burma was on his feet, running to the bars. “India! India!”
Her hair was a mess and her eyes were gleaming brown and angry as Prussia held her down but she looked twice when she saw him. “B-Burma…!”
“Aw, this is sweet,” said Prussia. “Well, don’t get used to it. Can’t guarantee anything, after all.” He threw the sack outside the bars but left thin ropes on her wrists. “I’m sure you can figure those out,” he told her and he patted her on the head, rose and turned away, slamming the door.
He meandered to Spain’s cell, red eyes shiny. He reached in, gently touching Spain’s face and smiled. “I’ll see you later.” And he had to jerk his hand back when Spain tried to bite him. “That was rude,” he laughed. “And here I was going to tell you what Riis was going to do to you.”
“Riis?” said Spain, glaring at him.
“Oh, you know, World Resistance is sort of vague. That boy doesn’t have a name and I get sick of calling him that. It sounds lame. So I made up a name. Ree-sistance. Riis. See?”
“What’s he going to do?”
Prussia snorted. “Well, I’m certainly not going to tell you now! You tried to bite my fingers off!”
Spain’s jaw locked. “Well, then. Do your worst.”
Prussia lifted his eyebrows. His grin was like the Cheshire Cat. “For that to work fully, I’d have to get Romano. Wouldn’t I?”
Spain stiffened. “He’s harmless. Leave him out of this.”
Prussia narrow face was full of a snakelike glimmer. “Maybe one of your others will come? Mexico, maybe?”
Spain’s arm flashed through the bars and he grabbed Prussia by the collar. “If you hurt her—!”
“What?” said Prussia, taunting, grinning. “What will you do?”
Spain pushed himself up against the bars and jerked Prussia forward, smashing him into the bars. “It will be your funeral if you underestimate Mexico. Do not toy with her, Prussia.”
Prussia’s nose was pressed against the metal. He grinned. “Thanks for the tip. Maybe I will settle for Romano then.” And he threw himself backwards before Spain could get his other hand on him. He cackled, putting himself just out of Spain’s reach. “Cook will be down with scraps for you later.” He gave Spain a little wave and headed back upstairs.
Spain scowled and looked into Burma’s cell. The nation was across it, at India’s. She was standing back against the bars and letting Burma untie the ropes at her wrist. Spain watched as Burma tore the ropes away and gently nudged India to turn, checking her wrists.
“Are you all right? I was worried…”
“I’m okay. I couldn’t get out of the mainland.” She glanced up at Spain and nodded to him. “I was surrounded. Did America and New Zealand make it back?”
Spain furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”
“Were you caught before that? They went down over my rainforests. I got them a boat and put them out to Oman but I don’t know if they got there or not. They were picking up my signals so I had to turn off my radios.”
“Did they hurt you?” Burma asked, hands clasping and unclasping at the dirty rags on his wrists.
“Nothing to worry about,” she told him, unconsciously touching her bloodied temple. She looked to Spain again. “When did Prussia join them?”
Spain shook his head and looked down. “I don’t know.” He put his back against the bars and sank down to the floor. “I have no idea.”
China was writhing, hot with blood and pain and fever when South Korea burst into the room.
“Brother!” He yelled and dashed in.
Taiwan came in after him, hurrying to his bedside. “China? China!”
Lastly came Japan, who entered quietly and lingered by the door.
England was in the room, tending to China and managed to hold South Korea back enough to articulate how extensive the damage was.
“Who did it?!” South Korea’s voice rose in a flash. “Who was it?! Was it Prussia!” He looked down at China. “Do you know who it was, brother? I’ll kill them for you!”
“Korea, lower your voice or I will throw you out!”
South Korea shot a daggered look at England but then Taiwan was speaking, breaking the tension. “I nearly expected Russia to be here. Where is he?”
“Russia had to leave. He stayed as long as he could,” England supplied. “Russia told me to assure you that he would find the one who gave the order.”
“Is he going to prepare his own weapons?” Japan asked, quietly. He met England’s eyes.
“It is very likely.”
Japan looked at England’s left shoulder and didn’t raise his eyes again. “I see.” He approached the bed.
China was wheezing, covered in bloody gauze. His eyes bloodshot and sunken, stricken with fever and pain.
For a moment, Japan saw himself, wheezing and bloody but none of his siblings had tended to him. America had (his large hands should have been clumsy but they weren’t; they were surprisingly gentle and observant).
But then China’s eyes met his and his nostrils flared and the brown-black shot wide, “You!” he barked in gruff, raspy Chinese.
Japan blinked.
“What are you doing here?”
Taiwan, South Korea and England went quiet, watching them.
Japan felt their gaze but did not look over. His kept his eyes carefully on China’s ear. “I came to see you.”
“Aiya…you have come to laugh at me. After World War Two, I thought you deserved exactly what you got.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” England cut in. “His fever is high. He’s in a massive amount of pain.”
“No,” China groaned, back arching. South Korea pushed past England and reached for him and China dug his fingers into South Korea’s sleeve. “Why is it…that England is allowed to show his bitterness to America. And Russia can do whatever he pleases with those who are no longer his. And Spain is allowed to love and hate Mexico but….I am not supposed to show any of those th-things for the little brother who betrayed me.”
“China—,” Taiwan began.
“Is it because…of..ah…my political system? Because I am a socialist republic ruled by communists? And you associate communism with North Korea and Russia? Russia frightens all of you and North Korea can’t love anyone anymore…but me.” China’s eyes rolled and he moaned and his voice choked. “I am d-different. And our his-history, Japan, is different from theirs.” His neck twisted with a sickening lurch and Taiwan reached down to right it.
Japan stood still as a statue and kept his eyes on China’s ear.
“These westerners…,” China went on deliriously, seeming to forget, or simply not care, that England spoke Chinese, “…they opened our doors with force and canons. Europe did it to me. America did it to you. And then you allied with England…who took Hong Kong from me…and he may be dead now.” China’s voice trembled again and he choked on a dry sob, eyes unfocused at the ceiling. “Hong Kong…I felt him.” His fingers moved from South Korea’s sleeve to his bandaged throat. “I feel them all.”
Japan’s eye flickered up to China’s fingers and stayed there.
“I am what I am and I cannot always change what I am. But now my land is in chaos. I can..ah!…I can feel it. Russia knows the emptiness I feel. He seeks to fill it constantly but I cannot because I-I have g-given up trying to feel whole again.” He shook, somehow managed to bite his tongue and let the blood bubble on his lips. “There is no flower for arid land.”
Japan reached out, arm gently touching Taiwan, urging her back. South Korea took the hint and stepped back on his own, watching them. As if they were in their own realm, Japan and China. The younger nation reached down and gently touched China’s chin, turning his eyes to him. “Infertile earth will give harvest with the right seed. Not the flowers you enjoy most but it is not complete death. It requires only knowledge of the earth to fix. And the element we are unable to save or horde, but only watch it slip by.”
Time, Taiwan thought but didn’t quite dare say aloud.
China and Japan went on looking at each other for a long moment. Hundreds of years of history and pain all there, just below the surface.
Japan dropped his eyes to China’s shoulder.
And China finally fell quiet, slumping into his bed as if awakened and told the horrors he had seen were only bad dreams.
Japan said, “I will tend to him from now on.”
England nodded. “Of course.”
South Korea and Taiwan looked at each other and then back at Japan.
England stepped back, suddenly feeling the intruder. He folded his hands, gave them all a respectful bow and walked out of the room.
China’s country was in chaos. The capital city and subsequent large cities were destroyed, one after another. Each went up a fiery ball of light and death. Russia, England, America’s leaders and Japan had all moved in quickly to keep control of the world’s largest standing army. With most of their leaders dead, China reacted as any power might; dissolving into confusion and disarray.
It certainly was bad timing because now they had to redirect soldiers to keep the peace and get things organized again. With America’s might, Russia and England combined age and experience and efficiency and Japan’s knowledge of the people, it actually went fairly smoothly once the initial shocks had warn off. The three nations and their leaders, plus America’s president met just hours after the attacks.
“We will set up a temporary government here,” said England, pointing at the map, “in the remains of the city.”
“To install our own men would be a shock for them,” said Russia’s boss. “Some of them have never seen a white man in their entire lives.”
“We will install China’s men to rule China’s country,” Japan said quietly, but firmly.
America’s boss agreed. “As to the system of that government—“
“China is a socialist republic—,” Russia’s boss began.
Again, Japan spoke. “We will take control for now but how the government is run after the war will be up to China and his people. For now, we have instituted martial law and that is good enough.”
“We only have real control of these areas of China’s land,” England put in, running his finger around the coast from North Korea to Vietnam and ovaling around Beijing down to Kunming. “We are trying to get men out to the villages and outlying countryside but the go has been slow. My men met resistance all along the Indian border from soldiers with red stars on their sleeves.”
“India has fallen completely then,” Russia said, not really a question.
“Nepal and Bhutan are probably lost to us and Bangladesh is trapped as well,” England went on. “Thailand and Burma—Myanmar—all their borders are armed now.”
“Then they plan to head north,” said America’s boss, folding his fingertips. “And they will take the rest of China…”
“So long as they do not take the rivers,” Japan said, standing and tracing along the Huang, Xun and Yangtze, “we are not completely lost. The coast is still ours. The greatest threat is to you.” He looked at Russia.
Russia just smiled. “The Red Army will suffice.”
“Then the check and balance system stands,” said England. “Each of us will send officials to Beijing to begin organizing the restructuring of the city and we will hold a temporary government there until we can find suitable candidates. All four of us.”
It was agreed. And Russia had checked on China and waited for Canada to arrive and they had left again together. So now it was only England and Japan and his siblings on base.
And it was there, that evening, that Japan went to the infirmary wing to collect new bandages that England shut the door.
Japan looked up. “England,” he greeted quietly.
England approached him, looking into his face. “Japan. Are you all right?”
Japan felt a slight touch on his arm and knew that, to England that might as well be an embrace. He nodded and looked at him. “I am fine.”
England looked at him for a long moment.
Japan’s eyes flicked up and caught his, the dimming sunlight casting red and orange on the green. A rare little smile quirked up his mouth. He nodded a little.
England nodded back, fingers tightening on Japan’s elbow and then relaxing.
They stood there in silence as the sunlight went out, England just watching Japan gather his supplies. Finally, England said, “Will you need help changing his bandages?”
Japan shook his head. “I know what to do.”
England tensed a little awkwardly. “I…know.”
Japan looked sidelong at him. “That was not meant to be taken—“
“I know. I apologize. It’s been a long day.” England looked away, shaking his head a little.
He only stilled when Japan placed his fingertips on England’s sleeve. “Thank you.”
England blinked. “For what—“
But Japan was giving him a little bow and turning away, balancing the little plastic box of supplies and leaving England in the dim room.
England retired to his room early, making himself a cup of tea and sitting at a small desk. He swept aside pens and paper to view the new map, remarking little stars and lines.
His peace was disturbed when France slammed the door open. “England! Had you perhaps thought to send word about Spain? I could have come back sooner from Egypt had I known! Instead I hear it from Yemen, who heard it from Turkey who heard it from Greece who heard it from Portugal!” He stalked into the room. “Prussia has turned on us? Rubbish! Absolutely ridiculous!”
England rubbed his forehead and put his pen down and just stared up at him. “Are you finished yelling? You’ll wake the whole bloody base at this point.”
“Why did no one feel it was necessary to inform me—“
“What would you have done? No one knows where he is. No one knows where they base out of. You had just left for Egypt when I received word.”
“And yet, according to New Zealand, you make America call you as soon as he wakes up from getting shot and nearly dying of exposure to tell him. Why is that, England? What could the boy have done?”
England stiffened. “Do not presume to make this about him. I—“
“And then China is attacked with nuclear weapons and you mean to tell me that no one saw anything? No one knows how or who? And I don’t hear a word of that until I arrive here at the same time as Vietnam and North Korea!”
England blinked and stood. “They’re here?” He put his pen down and went for the door.
France grabbed for his collar. “Do not ignore me, England!”
“Maybe if you were useful, I wouldn’t!”
France jerked, eyes flying open as if England had slapped him.
England stopped too. For a moment, they just looked at each other and then England straightened his jacket and whipped around. He slammed the door behind him.
France clenched his fists. “Useless,” he said, quietly, to the empty room. “Is that what I am?”
The room didn’t answer.
Greenland had a glaive. It had a small hook on the reverse of the edge that had once been used to catch riders on horseback. Now he idly flipped it, listening to it whirl through the air.
Iceland, Denmark, Norway, Finland, Canada and Russia were all on deck as well. They had met up in Norilsk (save for Canada, who arrived with Russia), traveled to Zapadnaya Litsa and boarded one of Russia’s Northern Fleet ships.
“America has submarine crews often poking around but, I do as well. He caught the echoes first though,” Russia said, smiling a little. “It is amazing what you can hear beneath the ocean. Sound can travel eighty kilometers or more.”
“What did his crew think it was?” asked Denmark, idly leaning on the railing, one boot heel tilted up, the other boot back against the metal of the boat, pushing his hips out. His battle axe was belted and hooked to his side, the head sheathed in a thick case.
“Another ship,” Russia responded, “but their hails went unanswered. It was a small scouting sub and they weren’t equipped to start a fight with an unknown ship. So they returned and radioed a battle ship.”
“Surprised the little bastard didn’t wanna come himself.” Denmark laughed. “I guess I shouldn’t make fun of him for being enthusiastic.”
“New Zealand told me he went east,” Canada said. He nodded towards Russia. “With you. America told them before he left Japan’s patrol ship.”
“With me?” Russia shook his head. “He lied to them. I did not go east. I am already east.”
Canada furrowed his eyebrows and looked out to the ocean. “Oh. I wonder where he went.”
“Maybe he went with Prussia,” Denmark laughed. And then he raised his hands at the glare Canada shot him. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”
“How is China?” Canada asked, still glaring at Denmark.
Russia shifted and made no sound. “He is…alive. Not much better than that.”
Finland ran his gloves along the bitterly cold railing, sighing as he looked over the water.
“I am surprised,” Norway murmured, standing with his legs braced to compensate for the waves. “Sweden did not come.”
Iceland stood on Norway’s other side, but he said nothing, just watching everyone else.
Finland smiled. “He went to go and collect Sealand. He likes doing that and he was getting worried about leaving him alone.”
“Does he?” asked Norway.
“He also didn’t want to start an argument with Denmark,” Finland laughed, almost mischievous. “I told him he was missing out on all the Viking fun but he wanted to stay and take care of things.”
“Did you bring a weapon—like Denmark does?”
Finland nodded and patted his side, where a sword was encased, a matching dirk connected below it. “I brought a gun, of course but I like taking my swords. It reminds me of the old days.” He looked over at Norway and giggled, as if he were at a slumber party. “Remember? I used to get the longboats and the drums and I’d go all up and down the coast. Everyone used to be afraid of Vikings.”
“I remember,” said Norway, tilting his head to the side, feeling a little bit of fuzz against his throat. He reached up, settling his glove over the little creature to help warm it and then it crept back around to the nape of his neck.
“—it too.”
Norway came back. “Huh?”
Finland looked at him and laughed. “You’re getting as spacey as Iceland. I said that you used to do it too.”
Norway nodded. “I did.
Iceland added, “I feel like I haven’t left home.”
Finland and Norway both looked at him. Iceland blinked and shifted and looked behind him to watch Greenland, who was spinning with his glaive and humming to himself.
Finland smiled. “What are you singing, Greenland?”
Greenland had pointed his boot and now paused and pulled his glaive into himself. He wasn’t very tall but he clearly was not a child any longer. “A drum dance,” he said, quietly.
“I’d like to see it,” Finland said, encouraging and gentle.
Greenland hesitated.
“Oh, yeah, c’mon, Greenland. I remember when you showed them to me the first time!” And Denmark walked across the deck. He flashed them all a grin and jumped to attention and then clicked his boots together, tapping one against the wood. “I remember,” he said, in the rhythm of his boot. “He was scared!” He swept his arms to the side and spun, whipping his fingers up and then bringing them down, as what one does when indicating falling snow. “He said, your hair! It is fantastic!” Denmark smoothed his hand back through his hair, still tapping his boot.
“Denmark, don’t tease him. I really wanted to see,” said Finland. He looked at the boy. “Please? It’s a long boat ride.”
Greenland backed away from them. He looked up and then down and then out at the sea. He looked at Iceland.
“Aw, you made him shy,” Denmark accused, rolling his eyes. “I keep telling him to get out more. Even to go see Iceland—though I’m sure that’s probably not all that exciting.”
Iceland cocked an eyebrow.
“I…like Iceland,” Greenland murmured.
“Denmark,” Finland said, though firmer. “Stop. If he doesn’t want to dance, don’t make him.”
“He does though! I know the kid!” Denmark looked at him. “C’mon, they won’t hurt you. They won’t make fun of you, at least not more than I do.”
Canada sighed and shook his head. “Greenland.”
Greenland clutched his glaive and looked at Canada.
Canada smiled and approached, slowing the last few feet and said, “Are they Inuit dances? I know the central and eastern styles.” He glanced over and nodded toward the railing. “So does Russia. I’ll do it with you.”
Greenland blinked at him and didn’t seem to know what to say.
Denmark blinked too. “You two.” He pointed at Canada and then at Russia. “You guys dance?”
Canada smiled. “Russia taught me some of them when I was very small. I learned the rest from my own tribes before France came. America knows some of the western dances too, from his Alaskans.” He looked back at Greenland. “Want to?”
Russia’s eyes crinkled up with his smile. “I will be the drum.”
Finland clapped and grabbed Norway and Iceland, pulling them to a bench to sit and watch. Denmark, curiosity piqued, went to sit with them.
Canada looked over Greenland’s glaive, noting the colored leather and little bells near the end of the wood and start of metal. “Do any of you have a pole arm?”
Denmark went to get them one and even took a set of tiny bells from one of the sailors. By the time he returned, Russia had cleared some snow and ice from the deck and was sitting cross-legged.
“Usually we hold flat drums but—this will suffice, since Russia will do it for us.” He took the pole arm and shook it, listening to the bells. “What do you think?” he asked Greenland, holding it out to him.
Greenland’s eyes were a grey-green and he peered over at Canada, dark-haired and slight and carefully took it. He only skimmed his eyes over it, seeming reluctant to say anything against it and then passed it back. “It will do well.”
Canada smiled. “Thank you.” He took it back and they positioned themselves to stand across from each other. They held their weapons in a mirror image, bell end up.
For a moment, it was just the two of them, Canada and Greenland, in the silence, surrounded by ice and snow and cold water.
And then Canada took the lead and very, very gently, shook his bells.
The sound shimmered over the deck, catching Finland, Norway, Iceland and Denmark and holding them. Canada waited for it to fade and then he shook the bells again and stomped his boot. Russia did not drum the deck but, rather, cupped his hands so when he brought them together it made a thonk sound, rather than a clipped clapping sound. He started.
Greenland followed Canada’s lead, moving with him, whirling his glaive to make the bells sing, thumping the butt against the deck with Canada did. Sometimes, these dances had an accompanying story, other times, just throaty singing. Greenland had only been humming softly to himself, never one to make a display of himself. So he started a little when Canada began in a smooth tenor. He hurried to accompany him, his own voice reedy but pleasant and quickly tuned himself to Canada.
Sing, spin, thump with the boot, flick the weapon, bells, spin, cross by each other, thump with the boot, spin--boom!
The ship rocked. And something exploded. Canada and Denmark were whirling and both of them tackled Greenland at the same moment.
Russia was up off the deck, roaring orders.
Norway, Finland and Iceland hit the deck too as smoke and fire and snow came down around them.
But this time, they were ready.
No one bothered to stop and wonder at the black bombers. Canada was jumping back up and waved his arm, crossing it down. And the gun turrets opened fire.
Russia was coming back up now as a voice blared over the loudspeaker, announcing the launch of Russian pilots. They took off on the other end of the ship. Russia’s bombers were like him. Cold, full of hard edges and fast. In a flash, they were in the air.
All of them went to the railing just in time to see the submarine surface. Its numbers flashed above the water and Finland started, “That’s one of Germany’s!”
“Maybe it was under Prussia’s command and when he broke off, he told them where and how to take the sub?” Denmark suggested. “Otherwise, this is ridiculous. The bombers are one thing, fucking subs are another.”
“But one sub…taking on a Russian battle ship…” Canada shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It is not so far-fetched. Your brother makes subs that can take on multiple ships,” said Russia. He jerked his hand up and dropped it. They all grabbed the railing as the battle ship opened the heavy guns. “But, this is not your brother’s submarine. Nor one of mine.” He stepped up on the bottom bar of the railing to watch the bombs blast into the submarine. It retaliated with missiles. The side of the ship took one and the other—
Russia turned and grabbed Canada and Finland. Denmark grabbed Norway and Greenland.
The missile lunged up into the air and went down, slamming into something above them—as it turned out, one of their own black bombers. Both exploded mid-air. Denmark jumped up and laughed. “Hahah! Take that you stupid bastards! You dumbasses—!”
The black bomber fell to the deck in a massive chunk and the ship rocked with the impact. Another missile slammed into the side and Denmark slid on the icy deck and hit the railing hard. It snapped and he flipped right off the deck.
Norway shouted. “Denmark!” He went to the side. Greenland climbed up on the railing, watching Denmark hit the water.
The next hit from Russia’s ship tore open the top of the submarine like a can of sardines. Finland was up on the railing, hanging out and then jumping off in a twinkling, freefalling into the surfaced submarine.
Iceland was quick to follow, securing his handguns and grabbing Canada’s abandoned pole arm. He followed Finland over the edge. The submarine limped and Russia’s battle ship crushed it up against an ice flow.
Norway and Greenland jumped over together but they went for the ice flow instead, running across it to get to Denmark, who was floating, at least, though face down. Greenland fished him out and pulled him over with the glaive and Norway hauled him up, beating on his chest.
Russia turned and yelled for a lifeboat to go down and collect them and then he turned to Canada. “Now, it is only us. Shall we go?”
Canada smiled and looked over. “We won’t break our legs, right?”
“We can make jumps that humans cannot. It’s falls that hurt us.”
Canada laughed and went to the edge, where the railing had snapped. Russia stood next to him; he suddenly had his pipe but with his other hand, he reached out and grabbed Canada’s arm. They leapt together.
The tails of their coats didn’t catch on the sheered metal, which was lucky because Finland had clearly made a mess of things when he landed. Not a mess, as in, he had made a mistake. He had made a literal mess. Blood and body parts were everywhere.
Canada looked at it for a moment and chuckled. “You know, it’s almost sinister how he can smile and be so sweet and then do things like this.” He pointed at a body clearly shredded by blades.
Russia grinned. “It is, isn’t it.” He looked over Canada’s head. “We should make sure to take a prisoner or two.”
Canada nodded and reached into his coat, pulling out a twin set of combat knives and heading into the submarine.
Some parts of it were still dark. All the power was out except for reserve red lights. All Canada could hear was screaming and the crack of gunfire. He could sense Russia behind him somewhere, could see the red shadows when someone appeared and Russia moved, whirling the pipe. He left Russia to do that and went deeper into the submarine.
Iceland was the only nation who had come in his regular clothes. Certainly, he wore coat and gloves but he did not wear a uniform. He liked his own clothes and he preferred to fight in his own clothes. He stabbed with the pole arm, ripping open a stomach and cracked the end into another’s face. He fought silently, smoothly. His boots never thumped on the floor. They slid and shuffled and whisked. He shouldered his way into a man, slammed an elbow up and cracked out again with polearm.
The passageway was dark, like a coffin. Finland was up ahead, laughing. He could see red shadows in places but none of it bothered him. Soldiers were all around him and that’s why he was here.
He stabbed and jumped and whirled around, dodging weapons and hands. He swept aside, ducked low, skipped back. The men didn’t quite dare use their guns in such close quarters and so one of them ripped up a chair from the floor and busted it into manageable pieces. He ran back and the other soldiers parted for him, backing up, giving room.
The strange boy, no flag, no uniform, no insignia, had his back to him. The man raised his makeshift club and brought it down on the back of the silvery head.
Or tried to—because suddenly, it stopped mid-air—as if it had hit an invisible wall. The soldier blinked. The boy didn’t turn but his hood, hanging down the back of his coat…a pair of eyes was looking back from the depths of it. The soldier gasped and tried to jerk back but he was frozen, muscles stiff. He yelped and squirmed. “Help me!” he called to his fellows. “I can’t move!”
“What do you mean you can’t move?” asked another, touching his arm. “What the—why are you so cold?”
“The eyes….” The man quivered. “In his hood. Look. Red eyes.”
His friend peered at the hood of the boy, who was still fighting, and blinked. Those eyes, they were red and small and flaying him open. He felt frozen in place. He suddenly remembered to breath and whimpered. “Come on, Jacu. Come on.”
But Jacu couldn’t move. The red eyes raised and he saw the outline of a beak. “Is it a bird?”
“A bird?” asked his friend. “Why would he have a bi—“ A blade slammed into his head.
Jacu whimpered, unable to turn and look at his dead friend as he slumped to the floor of the submarine. And then pale blue eyes met his. The silver-haired boy was looking at him. Jacu trembled.
The boy said, “You’re going to stay here, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes,” said Jacu helplessly.
“When I come back, you will come with me, won’t you?”
“I will,” moaned Jacu.
The boy left him there, frozen and stiff against the wall. The red eyes in his hood seemed to follow him until the boy disappeared through a door.
After making sure Denmark was breathing and then leaving him with the lifeboat, Norway entered the submarine ahead of Greenland. “Will you be all right?”
Greenland nodded. “I have fought with Denmark before.”
“Stay close to the top just in case. This submarine will start to take on water eventually and we will need ropes to get back up to the deck.”
Greenland nodded. He would stay on the topmost deck but that was okay because there was plenty to do there. He watched Norway disappear into the dark submarine, the bits that still had a roof.
Norway came across Russia first, who was ripping open doors and heading inside rooms and causing a lot of short-lived screaming.
Canada seemed to see Norway coming and he called, “Is Denmark all right?”
Norway nodded and Canada cleared a path for him, letting him run on ahead while he punched his knives into the nearest body.
He came across a soldier who was standing curiously still against the wall. Norway stopped and looked at him. The man looked back, trembling.
“Are you frightened, solider?”
“I am,” the man answered.
“Why don’t you run?”
“I have to stay,” the man said, voice on the verge of a sob, “until he returns.”
Norway nodded. “Iceland’s bird got you, didn’t he? With his eyes.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He hurried on. He had a gun in one hand and with the other, he was tearing open the case at his side. It much resembled Denmark’s except that it was smaller and easier to handle. Norway took the short axe and dodged when a door slammed open on his left and bullets came flying out at him. He spun, fired back and then an alarm went off.
They all paused and looked up and the men in the room said, in very quick, harsh Spanish. “We are taking on water! We have to get out!”
There was a mad dash from the men in the room and Norway let them all stream by him, well aware that they would find Canada not far back and even if they managed to get by him, there was Russia and Greenland to contend with.
He came across another man who was firing his gun into the floor. Norway stopped to watch the man, who was crying as he wormed his fingers into the holes the bullets made and ripped at the flooring.
“What are you doing?” Norway asked.
The man kept crying, his fingers covered in blood. “I have to go down,” he sobbed. “He told me I have to go down.” He picked up a bar and tore the flooring up. Below, there was more fighting and more screaming because the telltale sounds of rushing water were getting louder. “I don’t want to go down!” The man cried but he sat on the lip of the hole he had made and jumped down.
Norway suppressed a shiver and went on. He came to a corridor with four offshoot passages. One was blood-soaked and no doubt belonged to Finland. Another had a man who was slamming his head into the wall and so Iceland had clearly already taken it. So Norway went down a third and, they had been waiting for him.
It was one of the control decks. A quick look around indicated the gun deck and Norway stepped in and then soldiers stepped out. They opened fire. He moved in a flash, ducking and running. He felt a bite in his stomach and ignored it. When he reached them, the axe came up and swept down. A shriek as an arm flew off, a cry when a breastbone snapped. It was all a blur of darkness and red light.
It was perfect for Norway. He clenched his fist and the shadows around them shifted and took shape on the walls, blurred and red and outlining what Norway had called. His shadow seemed to melt into the darkness and a nearby sailor suddenly felt intensely cold. He tried to turn but everything was swept away, enveloped in darkness, he couldn’t breath or see. A fellow nearby might have said he strangled to death on nothing but he would never know.
Norway whirled and spun, swinging and firing. He dodged and weaved and danced back and thumped his boot. In his head, he heard the bells and swung with their rhythm. He crossed and thumped and his shadows swirled around him, dancing on his skin like tiny fingers. Caressing like ribbon, clinging like silk. He ripped through a body and threw the gun down, taking the man’s knife. He did ever like weapons like these. They made him feel connected.
Someone’s radio must still be working because another group of men appeared in the doorway. Norway looked at them and they looked back. The men around him ducked and the orange cracks of light lit up the gun deck.
Norway breathed and his shadows swirled and he felt the bullets breeze by him, ruffling his hair.
And then time came back and Norway ran, swinging. The men finally seemed to organize themselves and the ones from the doorway fell into lines while the remaining gun deck crew came at him from behind. His vision blurred again, only aware of movement. He would slow down if he stopped to consciously process it. There was laughing and screaming and yelling and bangs and then—
A whoop as Denmark suddenly appeared, slamming into the sailors from behind. His axe was a proper double-headed battleaxe. He cleaved through the three lines. Monstrous and laughing.
“You are supposed to be resting!” Norway called over the din.
“Ah, fuck that!” Denmark yelled back and his axe went clean through some poor man’s stomach.
“Have you seen Finland?”
“Oh,” Denmark yelled, laughing. “You mean that crazy little motherfucker whose peeling back scalps and kicking heads down the corridor?”
Norway couldn’t help but smile a little as he fought his way to Denmark and put his back against the taller nation’s. “Yes, I imagine that’s him.”
“He and Iceland took the two other passages. When I was coming here, they were heading down the third together. I hope Russia’s got a helluva dry cleaner on that ship of his. Blood stains something awful. I don’t think even Freya could get that stuff out—as thick as it’s caked on the little guy.”
“I don’t think Freya would be much interested in keeping his clothes on anyway.”
Denmark laughed. “Good point!” He jumped away and swung his axe.
When they had emptied the room, Norway and Denmark left the passage and came across Finland and Iceland in the corridor.
“Hello!” Finland called cheerfully. His blond hair was matted with blood and his eyes were bright and happy, rimmed as they were with gore. It was a strange sight, somehow twisted and unwholesome. “How did you all do?”
“Very well,” said Norway quietly. “This wing is empty now?”
Iceland nodded. “It is.”
“Nice of you to come out of the water to join us, Denmark,” Finland laughed, gently touching his elbow and then striding on ahead.
“Oh, shut up, Fin!”
“The alarms are still going off,” murmured Norway as they made their way up a slight incline that Norway wasn’t sure was there before.
“The submarine is taking on water,” Finland chirped. “Those below the third deck have probably already drowned. But the sub hasn’t sunk yet because Russia’s battleship is holding it up.”
“Ah, that’s why it’s started to bow out,” Denmark added, touching the walls which were, indeed, beginning to bulge. “It’ll break apart soon. We have to round us up some prisoners, don’t we?” Suddenly, he laughed and gave Iceland a little shove. “I saw that guy you got up near the top. Nice!”
“He has not moved?” Iceland put his hands out for balance.
“Course not. Let’s collect Canada and Russia and Greenie and get outta here. I want a drink.”
Norway sighed a little. “You should rest and get warm before you worry about drinking. You’re soaking wet and it’s forty below. You’ll freeze.”
“Sweden should have come for this,” Denmark went on, ignoring Norway. “This was fun.”
“It was,” Finland agreed, enthusiastically.
When they came closer to the top deck, where the ceiling was peeled back, the four saw Canada and Russia walking together.
“Hey!” Denmark called. “What’s up!”
Canada turned and waved. Russia hefted his pipe and waved the head.
Iceland peeled off and went to Jacu, who was still standing by the wall. “I am ready for you to follow me.”
Jacu shook but he nodded. “I will come and follow you.”
When Iceland turned and walked away, Jacu followed, teeth chattering. His eyes inevitably settled on the back of Iceland’s hood, where those red eyes were still peering out.
“We nearly forgot to get prisoners,” Russia said, letting Iceland step around him and watching Jacu. “Canada locked two men in a storage room for us though.”
“Oh, yeah,” Canada perked. “I’ll go get them.”
“Where’s Greenland?” Denmark called.
“I’m here!” the boy answered, waving further down the sub, silhouetted by sunlight.
“Greenie! How’d you do!”
“I’m fine! Don’t call me ‘Greenie’!”
“Sure thing, Greenie!” Denmark slipped an arm around Norway. “Well, Norge—lets go get a drink for a job well done, yeah?”
Norway shrugged out of his arm and started back up. “All you did was fall off the ship. Anyone could have done that.”
“Hey! That was mean!”
Finland and Russia stood together as they watched Canada wrestle open a door compacted by the bowing vessel and enter the room.
“It’s a pity it’s over,” said Finland. “I do enjoy that part of war.”
Russia looked down at him and smiled. “Me too.”
They watched Canada drag the men up and Russia helpfully took one as they headed back to the battle ship.
Later, when he was clean, Finland came to the mess as if he had just spent the day at the park and not slaughtering the crew of a submarine. “Did the prisoners talk yet?”
The others were sitting at a table, in various stages of clean but all had cups of hot drinks cradled in their hands. Denmark had stripped off most of his clothes and had a blanket wrapped around himself.
Canada shook his head. “They won’t interrogate them here. They’ll do it on a base or something. They’re in holding cells for now.”
“That’s a pity,” said Finland and his eyes burned. “Such a pity.”
Spain could smell the salty sea breeze as it drifted in and out of his cell through the high, barred window. It cast a rectangle of light on the floor. Spain’s feet just touched it when he sat against the wall. He glanced over.
Burma and India was sitting together. In the L-shape their three cells made, they were in the front corner, closer to Spain’s cell. She kept murmuring news and bit of information and telling little stories. He kept his hand over hers and only seemed interested in looking at her.
It made Spain smile a little bit.
Though that smile faded when the prison doors grated open. Prussia came down and he was now in uniform. Not his normal blue but black. His cuffs were edged in red, as was his collar and there was a pair of stars on his sleeve.
He presented himself to Spain. “What do you think? Pretty nice, right? They even decked out my collar in these pretty red pins.”
Spain’s lip curled in a sneer.
He cackled at the sight. “You could try one on, you know. See if you like it.”
“Fuck you,” Spain breathed, his voice raspy.
Prussia grinned. “I’d be happy to do so, if that’s what you want.”
Spain glared at him.
“I’m much stronger now, though,” he went on, smiling. “Perks of having land again. Damn, do I miss this. So, no more topping for you! Not that you ever did much of that anyway.”
“What do you want, Prussia?”
Prussia just smiled. “Well! That’s right! I am here for something. Unfortunately for—actually not you, not yet, Spain. You.” He turned and looked at Burma. “It’s your turn again, Burma. Sorry. Bet you thought you’d get a break now that there are two others here to take the brunt of it but, you’re shit outta luck.” Prussia opened the cell door.
Burma started to shake, putting his heels under him and moving himself back.
“Burma,” India urged. “Burma, calm down.”
Burma’s eyes had gone wide and he whimpered and shook his head. “I don’t know anything! Why do you keep asking me! I don’t—“
Prussia grabbed his ankle and yanked him forward. Burma clung to the bars and India reached through them, grabbing Burma’s face and turning it to her. “Be brave,” she told him. “Come on. It’ll be all right. If you truly know nothing then you have nothing to worry about.”
“Or maybe he has quite a bit?” Prussia suggested. He winked at India. “Watching you is sweet though. I hope I get to do you.” He took out the black sack.
Burma’s whole body shuddered at the sight of the black sack. “Please don’t put that on me. Please! I’ll come just please don’t put that on me!”
“Now, c’mon, Burma. You know I gotta. C’mere.” He tugged Burma to him and knelt, pinning him down and forcing India’s hands away as he shoved the bag over his head.
“Damn, Prussia,” Spain said, “can’t you just leave him be?”
Prussia flashed a smile at Spain and tightened the drawstrings on the sack and knotted them. Burma trembled, breath heaving and trying not to cry. “They say,” Prussia said, “that the dark is a universal fear.” He pulled back and took out handcuffs, clapping them around Burma’s wrist. He winked at India. “I’ll have him back before ten, ma’am.”
She glared at him.
He winked and got up, hefting Burma. “C’mon, Burma, walk.”
He barely seemed able to steady his feet and so Prussia just tossed him over his shoulder.
Spain, looked at the black-swathed head got a terrible image of the Executioner at the chopping block. Except it was backwards. It made him shiver.
Up above, there was the sound of running feet. Prussia looked up, listening, with Burma still poised on his shoulder. The prison doors opened again and a set of boots came down the stairs.
“Sir!” called a woman, giving him a smart salute. “A pilot from the United States Air Force just landed on deck. He said he wants to speak with you.”
Spain watched something flicker through Prussia’s eyes and then a smile curl up his narrow face. “Is that so? Asked for me by name, did he?”
The officer nodded. “Yes, sir. By your country-name, sir.”
Spain started and blinked. America?
Prussia nodded, grinning now and he dropped Burma to the floor. “Well played, England.” He walked away from Burma and locked him in his cell. “Go on up,” he told the officer. “Tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”
When the officer headed up, Prussia looked back at Spain. He winked. “This will be fun.” He laughed. “Looks like you got lucky today, Burma.” Prussia flashed the V for Victory and he headed upstairs.
1. Inuit are a pretty interesting tribe and once lived over Canada, Alaska, Greenland, and--I've heard, though couldn't confirm it--some parts of eastern Russia.
2. Freya, the Viking warrior goddess and ruler of the Valkyries.
3. There are four Icelandic guardian animals that are said to protect it. A bird, a dragon, a bull and a giant.
And a big thanks tolilgreekaus91, who did two pictures for me! One of England, Scotland, Australia and NZ and one of Ireland
Author/Artist:
historyblitz, kept track of at historizeCharacter(s) or Pairing(s): Basically, everyone. This particular part has Spain, Prussia, Burma, India, China, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, England and France. Also Denmark, Canada, Russia, Norway, Iceland, Finland, and Greenland.
Rating: thematic R
Warnings: violence, lots of Viking Violence for great justice.
Summary: Basically, World War III
posted here
Spain was dozing on the floor on his cell. He was curled up in the corner, head leaning slightly on the bars so he was half-facing Burma, who had curled up on the other side of the bars with him. He jumped when the door opened and an angry shriek filled the cells. Spain blinked quickly, eyes adjusting to the dim light of early morning.
The sound of Prussia laughing brought Spain completely out of the haze of sleep. He was standing in a flash and Burma was quick to get on his knees, watching.
Prussia came into view just as the first rays of morning light pierced through the bars high up the walls. He blinked into it and dragged his prisoner forward. This figure, smallish and slim, was struggling mightily but the face was covered in a black cloth sack.
“Prussia!” Spain went to the bars. “Who is that?!”
Prussia walked towards the back wall, where Spain and Burma’s cell were and then turned to his right and opened up another cell. It shared one wall of bars with Burma’s cell so the three made an L-shape. Prussia didn’t speak until he got the door open and drug the figure inside. “Good morning, Spain. How did you sleep? How about you, Burma? You get comfortable soon enough.”
His hands were steady as he threw the small figure to the stone floor and knelt on it, working off the black sack.
“India!” And Burma was on his feet, running to the bars. “India! India!”
Her hair was a mess and her eyes were gleaming brown and angry as Prussia held her down but she looked twice when she saw him. “B-Burma…!”
“Aw, this is sweet,” said Prussia. “Well, don’t get used to it. Can’t guarantee anything, after all.” He threw the sack outside the bars but left thin ropes on her wrists. “I’m sure you can figure those out,” he told her and he patted her on the head, rose and turned away, slamming the door.
He meandered to Spain’s cell, red eyes shiny. He reached in, gently touching Spain’s face and smiled. “I’ll see you later.” And he had to jerk his hand back when Spain tried to bite him. “That was rude,” he laughed. “And here I was going to tell you what Riis was going to do to you.”
“Riis?” said Spain, glaring at him.
“Oh, you know, World Resistance is sort of vague. That boy doesn’t have a name and I get sick of calling him that. It sounds lame. So I made up a name. Ree-sistance. Riis. See?”
“What’s he going to do?”
Prussia snorted. “Well, I’m certainly not going to tell you now! You tried to bite my fingers off!”
Spain’s jaw locked. “Well, then. Do your worst.”
Prussia lifted his eyebrows. His grin was like the Cheshire Cat. “For that to work fully, I’d have to get Romano. Wouldn’t I?”
Spain stiffened. “He’s harmless. Leave him out of this.”
Prussia narrow face was full of a snakelike glimmer. “Maybe one of your others will come? Mexico, maybe?”
Spain’s arm flashed through the bars and he grabbed Prussia by the collar. “If you hurt her—!”
“What?” said Prussia, taunting, grinning. “What will you do?”
Spain pushed himself up against the bars and jerked Prussia forward, smashing him into the bars. “It will be your funeral if you underestimate Mexico. Do not toy with her, Prussia.”
Prussia’s nose was pressed against the metal. He grinned. “Thanks for the tip. Maybe I will settle for Romano then.” And he threw himself backwards before Spain could get his other hand on him. He cackled, putting himself just out of Spain’s reach. “Cook will be down with scraps for you later.” He gave Spain a little wave and headed back upstairs.
Spain scowled and looked into Burma’s cell. The nation was across it, at India’s. She was standing back against the bars and letting Burma untie the ropes at her wrist. Spain watched as Burma tore the ropes away and gently nudged India to turn, checking her wrists.
“Are you all right? I was worried…”
“I’m okay. I couldn’t get out of the mainland.” She glanced up at Spain and nodded to him. “I was surrounded. Did America and New Zealand make it back?”
Spain furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”
“Were you caught before that? They went down over my rainforests. I got them a boat and put them out to Oman but I don’t know if they got there or not. They were picking up my signals so I had to turn off my radios.”
“Did they hurt you?” Burma asked, hands clasping and unclasping at the dirty rags on his wrists.
“Nothing to worry about,” she told him, unconsciously touching her bloodied temple. She looked to Spain again. “When did Prussia join them?”
Spain shook his head and looked down. “I don’t know.” He put his back against the bars and sank down to the floor. “I have no idea.”
China was writhing, hot with blood and pain and fever when South Korea burst into the room.
“Brother!” He yelled and dashed in.
Taiwan came in after him, hurrying to his bedside. “China? China!”
Lastly came Japan, who entered quietly and lingered by the door.
England was in the room, tending to China and managed to hold South Korea back enough to articulate how extensive the damage was.
“Who did it?!” South Korea’s voice rose in a flash. “Who was it?! Was it Prussia!” He looked down at China. “Do you know who it was, brother? I’ll kill them for you!”
“Korea, lower your voice or I will throw you out!”
South Korea shot a daggered look at England but then Taiwan was speaking, breaking the tension. “I nearly expected Russia to be here. Where is he?”
“Russia had to leave. He stayed as long as he could,” England supplied. “Russia told me to assure you that he would find the one who gave the order.”
“Is he going to prepare his own weapons?” Japan asked, quietly. He met England’s eyes.
“It is very likely.”
Japan looked at England’s left shoulder and didn’t raise his eyes again. “I see.” He approached the bed.
China was wheezing, covered in bloody gauze. His eyes bloodshot and sunken, stricken with fever and pain.
For a moment, Japan saw himself, wheezing and bloody but none of his siblings had tended to him. America had (his large hands should have been clumsy but they weren’t; they were surprisingly gentle and observant).
But then China’s eyes met his and his nostrils flared and the brown-black shot wide, “You!” he barked in gruff, raspy Chinese.
Japan blinked.
“What are you doing here?”
Taiwan, South Korea and England went quiet, watching them.
Japan felt their gaze but did not look over. His kept his eyes carefully on China’s ear. “I came to see you.”
“Aiya…you have come to laugh at me. After World War Two, I thought you deserved exactly what you got.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” England cut in. “His fever is high. He’s in a massive amount of pain.”
“No,” China groaned, back arching. South Korea pushed past England and reached for him and China dug his fingers into South Korea’s sleeve. “Why is it…that England is allowed to show his bitterness to America. And Russia can do whatever he pleases with those who are no longer his. And Spain is allowed to love and hate Mexico but….I am not supposed to show any of those th-things for the little brother who betrayed me.”
“China—,” Taiwan began.
“Is it because…of..ah…my political system? Because I am a socialist republic ruled by communists? And you associate communism with North Korea and Russia? Russia frightens all of you and North Korea can’t love anyone anymore…but me.” China’s eyes rolled and he moaned and his voice choked. “I am d-different. And our his-history, Japan, is different from theirs.” His neck twisted with a sickening lurch and Taiwan reached down to right it.
Japan stood still as a statue and kept his eyes on China’s ear.
“These westerners…,” China went on deliriously, seeming to forget, or simply not care, that England spoke Chinese, “…they opened our doors with force and canons. Europe did it to me. America did it to you. And then you allied with England…who took Hong Kong from me…and he may be dead now.” China’s voice trembled again and he choked on a dry sob, eyes unfocused at the ceiling. “Hong Kong…I felt him.” His fingers moved from South Korea’s sleeve to his bandaged throat. “I feel them all.”
Japan’s eye flickered up to China’s fingers and stayed there.
“I am what I am and I cannot always change what I am. But now my land is in chaos. I can..ah!…I can feel it. Russia knows the emptiness I feel. He seeks to fill it constantly but I cannot because I-I have g-given up trying to feel whole again.” He shook, somehow managed to bite his tongue and let the blood bubble on his lips. “There is no flower for arid land.”
Japan reached out, arm gently touching Taiwan, urging her back. South Korea took the hint and stepped back on his own, watching them. As if they were in their own realm, Japan and China. The younger nation reached down and gently touched China’s chin, turning his eyes to him. “Infertile earth will give harvest with the right seed. Not the flowers you enjoy most but it is not complete death. It requires only knowledge of the earth to fix. And the element we are unable to save or horde, but only watch it slip by.”
Time, Taiwan thought but didn’t quite dare say aloud.
China and Japan went on looking at each other for a long moment. Hundreds of years of history and pain all there, just below the surface.
Japan dropped his eyes to China’s shoulder.
And China finally fell quiet, slumping into his bed as if awakened and told the horrors he had seen were only bad dreams.
Japan said, “I will tend to him from now on.”
England nodded. “Of course.”
South Korea and Taiwan looked at each other and then back at Japan.
England stepped back, suddenly feeling the intruder. He folded his hands, gave them all a respectful bow and walked out of the room.
China’s country was in chaos. The capital city and subsequent large cities were destroyed, one after another. Each went up a fiery ball of light and death. Russia, England, America’s leaders and Japan had all moved in quickly to keep control of the world’s largest standing army. With most of their leaders dead, China reacted as any power might; dissolving into confusion and disarray.
It certainly was bad timing because now they had to redirect soldiers to keep the peace and get things organized again. With America’s might, Russia and England combined age and experience and efficiency and Japan’s knowledge of the people, it actually went fairly smoothly once the initial shocks had warn off. The three nations and their leaders, plus America’s president met just hours after the attacks.
“We will set up a temporary government here,” said England, pointing at the map, “in the remains of the city.”
“To install our own men would be a shock for them,” said Russia’s boss. “Some of them have never seen a white man in their entire lives.”
“We will install China’s men to rule China’s country,” Japan said quietly, but firmly.
America’s boss agreed. “As to the system of that government—“
“China is a socialist republic—,” Russia’s boss began.
Again, Japan spoke. “We will take control for now but how the government is run after the war will be up to China and his people. For now, we have instituted martial law and that is good enough.”
“We only have real control of these areas of China’s land,” England put in, running his finger around the coast from North Korea to Vietnam and ovaling around Beijing down to Kunming. “We are trying to get men out to the villages and outlying countryside but the go has been slow. My men met resistance all along the Indian border from soldiers with red stars on their sleeves.”
“India has fallen completely then,” Russia said, not really a question.
“Nepal and Bhutan are probably lost to us and Bangladesh is trapped as well,” England went on. “Thailand and Burma—Myanmar—all their borders are armed now.”
“Then they plan to head north,” said America’s boss, folding his fingertips. “And they will take the rest of China…”
“So long as they do not take the rivers,” Japan said, standing and tracing along the Huang, Xun and Yangtze, “we are not completely lost. The coast is still ours. The greatest threat is to you.” He looked at Russia.
Russia just smiled. “The Red Army will suffice.”
“Then the check and balance system stands,” said England. “Each of us will send officials to Beijing to begin organizing the restructuring of the city and we will hold a temporary government there until we can find suitable candidates. All four of us.”
It was agreed. And Russia had checked on China and waited for Canada to arrive and they had left again together. So now it was only England and Japan and his siblings on base.
And it was there, that evening, that Japan went to the infirmary wing to collect new bandages that England shut the door.
Japan looked up. “England,” he greeted quietly.
England approached him, looking into his face. “Japan. Are you all right?”
Japan felt a slight touch on his arm and knew that, to England that might as well be an embrace. He nodded and looked at him. “I am fine.”
England looked at him for a long moment.
Japan’s eyes flicked up and caught his, the dimming sunlight casting red and orange on the green. A rare little smile quirked up his mouth. He nodded a little.
England nodded back, fingers tightening on Japan’s elbow and then relaxing.
They stood there in silence as the sunlight went out, England just watching Japan gather his supplies. Finally, England said, “Will you need help changing his bandages?”
Japan shook his head. “I know what to do.”
England tensed a little awkwardly. “I…know.”
Japan looked sidelong at him. “That was not meant to be taken—“
“I know. I apologize. It’s been a long day.” England looked away, shaking his head a little.
He only stilled when Japan placed his fingertips on England’s sleeve. “Thank you.”
England blinked. “For what—“
But Japan was giving him a little bow and turning away, balancing the little plastic box of supplies and leaving England in the dim room.
England retired to his room early, making himself a cup of tea and sitting at a small desk. He swept aside pens and paper to view the new map, remarking little stars and lines.
His peace was disturbed when France slammed the door open. “England! Had you perhaps thought to send word about Spain? I could have come back sooner from Egypt had I known! Instead I hear it from Yemen, who heard it from Turkey who heard it from Greece who heard it from Portugal!” He stalked into the room. “Prussia has turned on us? Rubbish! Absolutely ridiculous!”
England rubbed his forehead and put his pen down and just stared up at him. “Are you finished yelling? You’ll wake the whole bloody base at this point.”
“Why did no one feel it was necessary to inform me—“
“What would you have done? No one knows where he is. No one knows where they base out of. You had just left for Egypt when I received word.”
“And yet, according to New Zealand, you make America call you as soon as he wakes up from getting shot and nearly dying of exposure to tell him. Why is that, England? What could the boy have done?”
England stiffened. “Do not presume to make this about him. I—“
“And then China is attacked with nuclear weapons and you mean to tell me that no one saw anything? No one knows how or who? And I don’t hear a word of that until I arrive here at the same time as Vietnam and North Korea!”
England blinked and stood. “They’re here?” He put his pen down and went for the door.
France grabbed for his collar. “Do not ignore me, England!”
“Maybe if you were useful, I wouldn’t!”
France jerked, eyes flying open as if England had slapped him.
England stopped too. For a moment, they just looked at each other and then England straightened his jacket and whipped around. He slammed the door behind him.
France clenched his fists. “Useless,” he said, quietly, to the empty room. “Is that what I am?”
The room didn’t answer.
Greenland had a glaive. It had a small hook on the reverse of the edge that had once been used to catch riders on horseback. Now he idly flipped it, listening to it whirl through the air.
Iceland, Denmark, Norway, Finland, Canada and Russia were all on deck as well. They had met up in Norilsk (save for Canada, who arrived with Russia), traveled to Zapadnaya Litsa and boarded one of Russia’s Northern Fleet ships.
“America has submarine crews often poking around but, I do as well. He caught the echoes first though,” Russia said, smiling a little. “It is amazing what you can hear beneath the ocean. Sound can travel eighty kilometers or more.”
“What did his crew think it was?” asked Denmark, idly leaning on the railing, one boot heel tilted up, the other boot back against the metal of the boat, pushing his hips out. His battle axe was belted and hooked to his side, the head sheathed in a thick case.
“Another ship,” Russia responded, “but their hails went unanswered. It was a small scouting sub and they weren’t equipped to start a fight with an unknown ship. So they returned and radioed a battle ship.”
“Surprised the little bastard didn’t wanna come himself.” Denmark laughed. “I guess I shouldn’t make fun of him for being enthusiastic.”
“New Zealand told me he went east,” Canada said. He nodded towards Russia. “With you. America told them before he left Japan’s patrol ship.”
“With me?” Russia shook his head. “He lied to them. I did not go east. I am already east.”
Canada furrowed his eyebrows and looked out to the ocean. “Oh. I wonder where he went.”
“Maybe he went with Prussia,” Denmark laughed. And then he raised his hands at the glare Canada shot him. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”
“How is China?” Canada asked, still glaring at Denmark.
Russia shifted and made no sound. “He is…alive. Not much better than that.”
Finland ran his gloves along the bitterly cold railing, sighing as he looked over the water.
“I am surprised,” Norway murmured, standing with his legs braced to compensate for the waves. “Sweden did not come.”
Iceland stood on Norway’s other side, but he said nothing, just watching everyone else.
Finland smiled. “He went to go and collect Sealand. He likes doing that and he was getting worried about leaving him alone.”
“Does he?” asked Norway.
“He also didn’t want to start an argument with Denmark,” Finland laughed, almost mischievous. “I told him he was missing out on all the Viking fun but he wanted to stay and take care of things.”
“Did you bring a weapon—like Denmark does?”
Finland nodded and patted his side, where a sword was encased, a matching dirk connected below it. “I brought a gun, of course but I like taking my swords. It reminds me of the old days.” He looked over at Norway and giggled, as if he were at a slumber party. “Remember? I used to get the longboats and the drums and I’d go all up and down the coast. Everyone used to be afraid of Vikings.”
“I remember,” said Norway, tilting his head to the side, feeling a little bit of fuzz against his throat. He reached up, settling his glove over the little creature to help warm it and then it crept back around to the nape of his neck.
“—it too.”
Norway came back. “Huh?”
Finland looked at him and laughed. “You’re getting as spacey as Iceland. I said that you used to do it too.”
Norway nodded. “I did.
Iceland added, “I feel like I haven’t left home.”
Finland and Norway both looked at him. Iceland blinked and shifted and looked behind him to watch Greenland, who was spinning with his glaive and humming to himself.
Finland smiled. “What are you singing, Greenland?”
Greenland had pointed his boot and now paused and pulled his glaive into himself. He wasn’t very tall but he clearly was not a child any longer. “A drum dance,” he said, quietly.
“I’d like to see it,” Finland said, encouraging and gentle.
Greenland hesitated.
“Oh, yeah, c’mon, Greenland. I remember when you showed them to me the first time!” And Denmark walked across the deck. He flashed them all a grin and jumped to attention and then clicked his boots together, tapping one against the wood. “I remember,” he said, in the rhythm of his boot. “He was scared!” He swept his arms to the side and spun, whipping his fingers up and then bringing them down, as what one does when indicating falling snow. “He said, your hair! It is fantastic!” Denmark smoothed his hand back through his hair, still tapping his boot.
“Denmark, don’t tease him. I really wanted to see,” said Finland. He looked at the boy. “Please? It’s a long boat ride.”
Greenland backed away from them. He looked up and then down and then out at the sea. He looked at Iceland.
“Aw, you made him shy,” Denmark accused, rolling his eyes. “I keep telling him to get out more. Even to go see Iceland—though I’m sure that’s probably not all that exciting.”
Iceland cocked an eyebrow.
“I…like Iceland,” Greenland murmured.
“Denmark,” Finland said, though firmer. “Stop. If he doesn’t want to dance, don’t make him.”
“He does though! I know the kid!” Denmark looked at him. “C’mon, they won’t hurt you. They won’t make fun of you, at least not more than I do.”
Canada sighed and shook his head. “Greenland.”
Greenland clutched his glaive and looked at Canada.
Canada smiled and approached, slowing the last few feet and said, “Are they Inuit dances? I know the central and eastern styles.” He glanced over and nodded toward the railing. “So does Russia. I’ll do it with you.”
Greenland blinked at him and didn’t seem to know what to say.
Denmark blinked too. “You two.” He pointed at Canada and then at Russia. “You guys dance?”
Canada smiled. “Russia taught me some of them when I was very small. I learned the rest from my own tribes before France came. America knows some of the western dances too, from his Alaskans.” He looked back at Greenland. “Want to?”
Russia’s eyes crinkled up with his smile. “I will be the drum.”
Finland clapped and grabbed Norway and Iceland, pulling them to a bench to sit and watch. Denmark, curiosity piqued, went to sit with them.
Canada looked over Greenland’s glaive, noting the colored leather and little bells near the end of the wood and start of metal. “Do any of you have a pole arm?”
Denmark went to get them one and even took a set of tiny bells from one of the sailors. By the time he returned, Russia had cleared some snow and ice from the deck and was sitting cross-legged.
“Usually we hold flat drums but—this will suffice, since Russia will do it for us.” He took the pole arm and shook it, listening to the bells. “What do you think?” he asked Greenland, holding it out to him.
Greenland’s eyes were a grey-green and he peered over at Canada, dark-haired and slight and carefully took it. He only skimmed his eyes over it, seeming reluctant to say anything against it and then passed it back. “It will do well.”
Canada smiled. “Thank you.” He took it back and they positioned themselves to stand across from each other. They held their weapons in a mirror image, bell end up.
For a moment, it was just the two of them, Canada and Greenland, in the silence, surrounded by ice and snow and cold water.
And then Canada took the lead and very, very gently, shook his bells.
The sound shimmered over the deck, catching Finland, Norway, Iceland and Denmark and holding them. Canada waited for it to fade and then he shook the bells again and stomped his boot. Russia did not drum the deck but, rather, cupped his hands so when he brought them together it made a thonk sound, rather than a clipped clapping sound. He started.
Greenland followed Canada’s lead, moving with him, whirling his glaive to make the bells sing, thumping the butt against the deck with Canada did. Sometimes, these dances had an accompanying story, other times, just throaty singing. Greenland had only been humming softly to himself, never one to make a display of himself. So he started a little when Canada began in a smooth tenor. He hurried to accompany him, his own voice reedy but pleasant and quickly tuned himself to Canada.
Sing, spin, thump with the boot, flick the weapon, bells, spin, cross by each other, thump with the boot, spin--boom!
The ship rocked. And something exploded. Canada and Denmark were whirling and both of them tackled Greenland at the same moment.
Russia was up off the deck, roaring orders.
Norway, Finland and Iceland hit the deck too as smoke and fire and snow came down around them.
But this time, they were ready.
No one bothered to stop and wonder at the black bombers. Canada was jumping back up and waved his arm, crossing it down. And the gun turrets opened fire.
Russia was coming back up now as a voice blared over the loudspeaker, announcing the launch of Russian pilots. They took off on the other end of the ship. Russia’s bombers were like him. Cold, full of hard edges and fast. In a flash, they were in the air.
All of them went to the railing just in time to see the submarine surface. Its numbers flashed above the water and Finland started, “That’s one of Germany’s!”
“Maybe it was under Prussia’s command and when he broke off, he told them where and how to take the sub?” Denmark suggested. “Otherwise, this is ridiculous. The bombers are one thing, fucking subs are another.”
“But one sub…taking on a Russian battle ship…” Canada shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It is not so far-fetched. Your brother makes subs that can take on multiple ships,” said Russia. He jerked his hand up and dropped it. They all grabbed the railing as the battle ship opened the heavy guns. “But, this is not your brother’s submarine. Nor one of mine.” He stepped up on the bottom bar of the railing to watch the bombs blast into the submarine. It retaliated with missiles. The side of the ship took one and the other—
Russia turned and grabbed Canada and Finland. Denmark grabbed Norway and Greenland.
The missile lunged up into the air and went down, slamming into something above them—as it turned out, one of their own black bombers. Both exploded mid-air. Denmark jumped up and laughed. “Hahah! Take that you stupid bastards! You dumbasses—!”
The black bomber fell to the deck in a massive chunk and the ship rocked with the impact. Another missile slammed into the side and Denmark slid on the icy deck and hit the railing hard. It snapped and he flipped right off the deck.
Norway shouted. “Denmark!” He went to the side. Greenland climbed up on the railing, watching Denmark hit the water.
The next hit from Russia’s ship tore open the top of the submarine like a can of sardines. Finland was up on the railing, hanging out and then jumping off in a twinkling, freefalling into the surfaced submarine.
Iceland was quick to follow, securing his handguns and grabbing Canada’s abandoned pole arm. He followed Finland over the edge. The submarine limped and Russia’s battle ship crushed it up against an ice flow.
Norway and Greenland jumped over together but they went for the ice flow instead, running across it to get to Denmark, who was floating, at least, though face down. Greenland fished him out and pulled him over with the glaive and Norway hauled him up, beating on his chest.
Russia turned and yelled for a lifeboat to go down and collect them and then he turned to Canada. “Now, it is only us. Shall we go?”
Canada smiled and looked over. “We won’t break our legs, right?”
“We can make jumps that humans cannot. It’s falls that hurt us.”
Canada laughed and went to the edge, where the railing had snapped. Russia stood next to him; he suddenly had his pipe but with his other hand, he reached out and grabbed Canada’s arm. They leapt together.
The tails of their coats didn’t catch on the sheered metal, which was lucky because Finland had clearly made a mess of things when he landed. Not a mess, as in, he had made a mistake. He had made a literal mess. Blood and body parts were everywhere.
Canada looked at it for a moment and chuckled. “You know, it’s almost sinister how he can smile and be so sweet and then do things like this.” He pointed at a body clearly shredded by blades.
Russia grinned. “It is, isn’t it.” He looked over Canada’s head. “We should make sure to take a prisoner or two.”
Canada nodded and reached into his coat, pulling out a twin set of combat knives and heading into the submarine.
Some parts of it were still dark. All the power was out except for reserve red lights. All Canada could hear was screaming and the crack of gunfire. He could sense Russia behind him somewhere, could see the red shadows when someone appeared and Russia moved, whirling the pipe. He left Russia to do that and went deeper into the submarine.
Iceland was the only nation who had come in his regular clothes. Certainly, he wore coat and gloves but he did not wear a uniform. He liked his own clothes and he preferred to fight in his own clothes. He stabbed with the pole arm, ripping open a stomach and cracked the end into another’s face. He fought silently, smoothly. His boots never thumped on the floor. They slid and shuffled and whisked. He shouldered his way into a man, slammed an elbow up and cracked out again with polearm.
The passageway was dark, like a coffin. Finland was up ahead, laughing. He could see red shadows in places but none of it bothered him. Soldiers were all around him and that’s why he was here.
He stabbed and jumped and whirled around, dodging weapons and hands. He swept aside, ducked low, skipped back. The men didn’t quite dare use their guns in such close quarters and so one of them ripped up a chair from the floor and busted it into manageable pieces. He ran back and the other soldiers parted for him, backing up, giving room.
The strange boy, no flag, no uniform, no insignia, had his back to him. The man raised his makeshift club and brought it down on the back of the silvery head.
Or tried to—because suddenly, it stopped mid-air—as if it had hit an invisible wall. The soldier blinked. The boy didn’t turn but his hood, hanging down the back of his coat…a pair of eyes was looking back from the depths of it. The soldier gasped and tried to jerk back but he was frozen, muscles stiff. He yelped and squirmed. “Help me!” he called to his fellows. “I can’t move!”
“What do you mean you can’t move?” asked another, touching his arm. “What the—why are you so cold?”
“The eyes….” The man quivered. “In his hood. Look. Red eyes.”
His friend peered at the hood of the boy, who was still fighting, and blinked. Those eyes, they were red and small and flaying him open. He felt frozen in place. He suddenly remembered to breath and whimpered. “Come on, Jacu. Come on.”
But Jacu couldn’t move. The red eyes raised and he saw the outline of a beak. “Is it a bird?”
“A bird?” asked his friend. “Why would he have a bi—“ A blade slammed into his head.
Jacu whimpered, unable to turn and look at his dead friend as he slumped to the floor of the submarine. And then pale blue eyes met his. The silver-haired boy was looking at him. Jacu trembled.
The boy said, “You’re going to stay here, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes,” said Jacu helplessly.
“When I come back, you will come with me, won’t you?”
“I will,” moaned Jacu.
The boy left him there, frozen and stiff against the wall. The red eyes in his hood seemed to follow him until the boy disappeared through a door.
After making sure Denmark was breathing and then leaving him with the lifeboat, Norway entered the submarine ahead of Greenland. “Will you be all right?”
Greenland nodded. “I have fought with Denmark before.”
“Stay close to the top just in case. This submarine will start to take on water eventually and we will need ropes to get back up to the deck.”
Greenland nodded. He would stay on the topmost deck but that was okay because there was plenty to do there. He watched Norway disappear into the dark submarine, the bits that still had a roof.
Norway came across Russia first, who was ripping open doors and heading inside rooms and causing a lot of short-lived screaming.
Canada seemed to see Norway coming and he called, “Is Denmark all right?”
Norway nodded and Canada cleared a path for him, letting him run on ahead while he punched his knives into the nearest body.
He came across a soldier who was standing curiously still against the wall. Norway stopped and looked at him. The man looked back, trembling.
“Are you frightened, solider?”
“I am,” the man answered.
“Why don’t you run?”
“I have to stay,” the man said, voice on the verge of a sob, “until he returns.”
Norway nodded. “Iceland’s bird got you, didn’t he? With his eyes.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He hurried on. He had a gun in one hand and with the other, he was tearing open the case at his side. It much resembled Denmark’s except that it was smaller and easier to handle. Norway took the short axe and dodged when a door slammed open on his left and bullets came flying out at him. He spun, fired back and then an alarm went off.
They all paused and looked up and the men in the room said, in very quick, harsh Spanish. “We are taking on water! We have to get out!”
There was a mad dash from the men in the room and Norway let them all stream by him, well aware that they would find Canada not far back and even if they managed to get by him, there was Russia and Greenland to contend with.
He came across another man who was firing his gun into the floor. Norway stopped to watch the man, who was crying as he wormed his fingers into the holes the bullets made and ripped at the flooring.
“What are you doing?” Norway asked.
The man kept crying, his fingers covered in blood. “I have to go down,” he sobbed. “He told me I have to go down.” He picked up a bar and tore the flooring up. Below, there was more fighting and more screaming because the telltale sounds of rushing water were getting louder. “I don’t want to go down!” The man cried but he sat on the lip of the hole he had made and jumped down.
Norway suppressed a shiver and went on. He came to a corridor with four offshoot passages. One was blood-soaked and no doubt belonged to Finland. Another had a man who was slamming his head into the wall and so Iceland had clearly already taken it. So Norway went down a third and, they had been waiting for him.
It was one of the control decks. A quick look around indicated the gun deck and Norway stepped in and then soldiers stepped out. They opened fire. He moved in a flash, ducking and running. He felt a bite in his stomach and ignored it. When he reached them, the axe came up and swept down. A shriek as an arm flew off, a cry when a breastbone snapped. It was all a blur of darkness and red light.
It was perfect for Norway. He clenched his fist and the shadows around them shifted and took shape on the walls, blurred and red and outlining what Norway had called. His shadow seemed to melt into the darkness and a nearby sailor suddenly felt intensely cold. He tried to turn but everything was swept away, enveloped in darkness, he couldn’t breath or see. A fellow nearby might have said he strangled to death on nothing but he would never know.
Norway whirled and spun, swinging and firing. He dodged and weaved and danced back and thumped his boot. In his head, he heard the bells and swung with their rhythm. He crossed and thumped and his shadows swirled around him, dancing on his skin like tiny fingers. Caressing like ribbon, clinging like silk. He ripped through a body and threw the gun down, taking the man’s knife. He did ever like weapons like these. They made him feel connected.
Someone’s radio must still be working because another group of men appeared in the doorway. Norway looked at them and they looked back. The men around him ducked and the orange cracks of light lit up the gun deck.
Norway breathed and his shadows swirled and he felt the bullets breeze by him, ruffling his hair.
And then time came back and Norway ran, swinging. The men finally seemed to organize themselves and the ones from the doorway fell into lines while the remaining gun deck crew came at him from behind. His vision blurred again, only aware of movement. He would slow down if he stopped to consciously process it. There was laughing and screaming and yelling and bangs and then—
A whoop as Denmark suddenly appeared, slamming into the sailors from behind. His axe was a proper double-headed battleaxe. He cleaved through the three lines. Monstrous and laughing.
“You are supposed to be resting!” Norway called over the din.
“Ah, fuck that!” Denmark yelled back and his axe went clean through some poor man’s stomach.
“Have you seen Finland?”
“Oh,” Denmark yelled, laughing. “You mean that crazy little motherfucker whose peeling back scalps and kicking heads down the corridor?”
Norway couldn’t help but smile a little as he fought his way to Denmark and put his back against the taller nation’s. “Yes, I imagine that’s him.”
“He and Iceland took the two other passages. When I was coming here, they were heading down the third together. I hope Russia’s got a helluva dry cleaner on that ship of his. Blood stains something awful. I don’t think even Freya could get that stuff out—as thick as it’s caked on the little guy.”
“I don’t think Freya would be much interested in keeping his clothes on anyway.”
Denmark laughed. “Good point!” He jumped away and swung his axe.
When they had emptied the room, Norway and Denmark left the passage and came across Finland and Iceland in the corridor.
“Hello!” Finland called cheerfully. His blond hair was matted with blood and his eyes were bright and happy, rimmed as they were with gore. It was a strange sight, somehow twisted and unwholesome. “How did you all do?”
“Very well,” said Norway quietly. “This wing is empty now?”
Iceland nodded. “It is.”
“Nice of you to come out of the water to join us, Denmark,” Finland laughed, gently touching his elbow and then striding on ahead.
“Oh, shut up, Fin!”
“The alarms are still going off,” murmured Norway as they made their way up a slight incline that Norway wasn’t sure was there before.
“The submarine is taking on water,” Finland chirped. “Those below the third deck have probably already drowned. But the sub hasn’t sunk yet because Russia’s battleship is holding it up.”
“Ah, that’s why it’s started to bow out,” Denmark added, touching the walls which were, indeed, beginning to bulge. “It’ll break apart soon. We have to round us up some prisoners, don’t we?” Suddenly, he laughed and gave Iceland a little shove. “I saw that guy you got up near the top. Nice!”
“He has not moved?” Iceland put his hands out for balance.
“Course not. Let’s collect Canada and Russia and Greenie and get outta here. I want a drink.”
Norway sighed a little. “You should rest and get warm before you worry about drinking. You’re soaking wet and it’s forty below. You’ll freeze.”
“Sweden should have come for this,” Denmark went on, ignoring Norway. “This was fun.”
“It was,” Finland agreed, enthusiastically.
When they came closer to the top deck, where the ceiling was peeled back, the four saw Canada and Russia walking together.
“Hey!” Denmark called. “What’s up!”
Canada turned and waved. Russia hefted his pipe and waved the head.
Iceland peeled off and went to Jacu, who was still standing by the wall. “I am ready for you to follow me.”
Jacu shook but he nodded. “I will come and follow you.”
When Iceland turned and walked away, Jacu followed, teeth chattering. His eyes inevitably settled on the back of Iceland’s hood, where those red eyes were still peering out.
“We nearly forgot to get prisoners,” Russia said, letting Iceland step around him and watching Jacu. “Canada locked two men in a storage room for us though.”
“Oh, yeah,” Canada perked. “I’ll go get them.”
“Where’s Greenland?” Denmark called.
“I’m here!” the boy answered, waving further down the sub, silhouetted by sunlight.
“Greenie! How’d you do!”
“I’m fine! Don’t call me ‘Greenie’!”
“Sure thing, Greenie!” Denmark slipped an arm around Norway. “Well, Norge—lets go get a drink for a job well done, yeah?”
Norway shrugged out of his arm and started back up. “All you did was fall off the ship. Anyone could have done that.”
“Hey! That was mean!”
Finland and Russia stood together as they watched Canada wrestle open a door compacted by the bowing vessel and enter the room.
“It’s a pity it’s over,” said Finland. “I do enjoy that part of war.”
Russia looked down at him and smiled. “Me too.”
They watched Canada drag the men up and Russia helpfully took one as they headed back to the battle ship.
Later, when he was clean, Finland came to the mess as if he had just spent the day at the park and not slaughtering the crew of a submarine. “Did the prisoners talk yet?”
The others were sitting at a table, in various stages of clean but all had cups of hot drinks cradled in their hands. Denmark had stripped off most of his clothes and had a blanket wrapped around himself.
Canada shook his head. “They won’t interrogate them here. They’ll do it on a base or something. They’re in holding cells for now.”
“That’s a pity,” said Finland and his eyes burned. “Such a pity.”
Spain could smell the salty sea breeze as it drifted in and out of his cell through the high, barred window. It cast a rectangle of light on the floor. Spain’s feet just touched it when he sat against the wall. He glanced over.
Burma and India was sitting together. In the L-shape their three cells made, they were in the front corner, closer to Spain’s cell. She kept murmuring news and bit of information and telling little stories. He kept his hand over hers and only seemed interested in looking at her.
It made Spain smile a little bit.
Though that smile faded when the prison doors grated open. Prussia came down and he was now in uniform. Not his normal blue but black. His cuffs were edged in red, as was his collar and there was a pair of stars on his sleeve.
He presented himself to Spain. “What do you think? Pretty nice, right? They even decked out my collar in these pretty red pins.”
Spain’s lip curled in a sneer.
He cackled at the sight. “You could try one on, you know. See if you like it.”
“Fuck you,” Spain breathed, his voice raspy.
Prussia grinned. “I’d be happy to do so, if that’s what you want.”
Spain glared at him.
“I’m much stronger now, though,” he went on, smiling. “Perks of having land again. Damn, do I miss this. So, no more topping for you! Not that you ever did much of that anyway.”
“What do you want, Prussia?”
Prussia just smiled. “Well! That’s right! I am here for something. Unfortunately for—actually not you, not yet, Spain. You.” He turned and looked at Burma. “It’s your turn again, Burma. Sorry. Bet you thought you’d get a break now that there are two others here to take the brunt of it but, you’re shit outta luck.” Prussia opened the cell door.
Burma started to shake, putting his heels under him and moving himself back.
“Burma,” India urged. “Burma, calm down.”
Burma’s eyes had gone wide and he whimpered and shook his head. “I don’t know anything! Why do you keep asking me! I don’t—“
Prussia grabbed his ankle and yanked him forward. Burma clung to the bars and India reached through them, grabbing Burma’s face and turning it to her. “Be brave,” she told him. “Come on. It’ll be all right. If you truly know nothing then you have nothing to worry about.”
“Or maybe he has quite a bit?” Prussia suggested. He winked at India. “Watching you is sweet though. I hope I get to do you.” He took out the black sack.
Burma’s whole body shuddered at the sight of the black sack. “Please don’t put that on me. Please! I’ll come just please don’t put that on me!”
“Now, c’mon, Burma. You know I gotta. C’mere.” He tugged Burma to him and knelt, pinning him down and forcing India’s hands away as he shoved the bag over his head.
“Damn, Prussia,” Spain said, “can’t you just leave him be?”
Prussia flashed a smile at Spain and tightened the drawstrings on the sack and knotted them. Burma trembled, breath heaving and trying not to cry. “They say,” Prussia said, “that the dark is a universal fear.” He pulled back and took out handcuffs, clapping them around Burma’s wrist. He winked at India. “I’ll have him back before ten, ma’am.”
She glared at him.
He winked and got up, hefting Burma. “C’mon, Burma, walk.”
He barely seemed able to steady his feet and so Prussia just tossed him over his shoulder.
Spain, looked at the black-swathed head got a terrible image of the Executioner at the chopping block. Except it was backwards. It made him shiver.
Up above, there was the sound of running feet. Prussia looked up, listening, with Burma still poised on his shoulder. The prison doors opened again and a set of boots came down the stairs.
“Sir!” called a woman, giving him a smart salute. “A pilot from the United States Air Force just landed on deck. He said he wants to speak with you.”
Spain watched something flicker through Prussia’s eyes and then a smile curl up his narrow face. “Is that so? Asked for me by name, did he?”
The officer nodded. “Yes, sir. By your country-name, sir.”
Spain started and blinked. America?
Prussia nodded, grinning now and he dropped Burma to the floor. “Well played, England.” He walked away from Burma and locked him in his cell. “Go on up,” he told the officer. “Tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”
When the officer headed up, Prussia looked back at Spain. He winked. “This will be fun.” He laughed. “Looks like you got lucky today, Burma.” Prussia flashed the V for Victory and he headed upstairs.
1. Inuit are a pretty interesting tribe and once lived over Canada, Alaska, Greenland, and--I've heard, though couldn't confirm it--some parts of eastern Russia.
2. Freya, the Viking warrior goddess and ruler of the Valkyries.
3. There are four Icelandic guardian animals that are said to protect it. A bird, a dragon, a bull and a giant.
And a big thanks to
lilgreekaus91, who did two pictures for me! One of England, Scotland, Australia and NZ and one of Ireland
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-08-09 05:48 am (UTC)The exchange between France and England... ouch. France you are not useless, it's just that America is extra useful, especially during war time lol
England is acting so British Empire right now... I guess war does that to a person.
The sub fight is so exciting O_O and scary. I am not a huge fan of the Nordic, but you made them ALIVE for me. I love how all of them are on Denmark's case. Shame that Sweden isn't in the fight.
And the last bit... what the heck America? Can't wait for the next chapter, I really want to know what England has planned now...
no subject
Date: 2009-08-15 04:22 am (UTC)Ah, thank you so much! My favorite Nordic is Denmark but I found that exploring the others (except for Sweden) was really fun! *dances*
Woo! DO a little dance!
no subject
Date: 2009-08-12 08:32 pm (UTC)I love how you write the little interactions and (sort of) relationship between Canada and Russia. It works well~ And fighting with knives? That suits Canada well, they're subtle but powerful.
The story so far is working really well. Aw, Ludwig, he must feel horrible about all this. And Riis, so awesome thus far.
Oh and are Ireland and Scotland going to be making appearances?
no subject
Date: 2009-08-15 04:24 am (UTC)And Canada and Russia being friends--it makes total sense to me.
I kind of ship them. A lot.But if Canada ever went crazy, it is my belief that he would be just like Russia.And yes, they will be making other appearances. Probably not as frequent as some of the other characters but they will definitely be around.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-15 12:59 pm (UTC)I agree on that. In my mind because Russia used to own Alaska (which really should belong to Canada...), they both have similar climates, they both have siblings that drive them up the wall (literally in Russia's case) and they both have a side of them that is pretty much the opposite of their usual selves.
Actually? I think I love you.Oh? Why do you think that?Lovely~
no subject
Date: 2009-08-15 01:16 pm (UTC)I have heard that when traumatic events happen to young people (young people as a general term in not naming a specific age but definitely under the age of 18) sometimes, you get a situation where they will act younger than they are. Where they will have this inability to relate and interact with people their own age and take a sort of defense in acting younger. It's interesting--and sad--but interesting. And it would make sense--given Russia's violent history--if it was that sort of situation.
Now Canada is a quiet, easy-going, nice person and I think that...if something were to happen to him--to the degree like things happen to Russia--to push him off the deep end---his nature would be sort of corrupted. Unlike America, who I would picture as just becoming extremely violent and maybe more like Prussia---I think Canada would still attempt to present himself as he does now but he would be incapable of doing so completely.
So--this is getting long, haha--it would be like in games like Thief and Silent Hill where you come across particular monsters that aren't...scary, per se, but they are creepy. Because they move in a way that's almost normal, but not quite. Something is off about it and it makes them creepy. Canada would try to be like his normal self but there would be something off about it--and it would make him spooky. Like Russia.
Yeah. Sometimes I fail at explanations. XD
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Date: 2009-08-15 01:30 pm (UTC)That makes sense, I think I've heard something like that before. I think they'd act like that because they conditioned themself to act differently in any situation like that. (Similar to acting different around different people?) Russia can be nice but he's usually creepy in a situation where something's happening that he doesn't like. Or he's very scared and upset (such as when Belarus comes around).
Canada would probably do that because of his quiet nature (that's how it's working in my head). America would be like Prussia because they're both loud, obnoxious, boisterous and Canada would be like Russia because he's calm, quiet, kind. He'd probably present himself like that because he doesn't want to show anyone there's anything wrong, that he's fine and nothing's changed (too drastically) about him.
Aw~ Long explanations are fun. |: Now you really make me want to see him like that dammit. I wonder how long it would take for someone to notice the change~
Not really, I suck at 'em. xD
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Date: 2009-08-14 04:03 pm (UTC)This fic is the most EPIC interpretation of WWIII that I've ever seen (yeah, I've seen a few c:). You've included so many characters without making any of them seem too insignificant and how you include so many little details, like how each one of them fights in particular or personal struggles for all of them and whatnot.
And all the freakin' twists and turns!! Like, fdkafjdskf. CHINA. CHIIIINNNAAAAA. OHGODDDDD. It was painful for me to read. ;n;
And the fight scenes. All of them. They are absolutely FANTASTIC. I love how you had the major "cold" countries fight in the Arctic. And how they each fight, ESPECIALLY with Finny laughing and smiling like a madman... and Iceland sufficiently creeps me out a bit now, thank you for that. &hearts
Prussia keeps making me wibble. I can't help but LOVE the evil side in him. C:
Of course, half of me keeps saying, "NO, IT CANT BE, HE HASN'T REALLY BETRAYED THEM, RIGHT? T-There's... some reason... right? ;____;"
Oh, and one of my favorite parts of this fic.
THANK YOU SO MUCH for giving Spain so much screentime. 8DDD
He's my favorite character (Romano being a close follow-up) and I really REALLY love what you did with him. Giving him a total badass side while keeping him IC. I think he's a fascinating character because he has a totally violent history, yet is so cheerful and passionate. I think you did a great job showing just how strong he can be without giving up his passion and character. So thanks for that, and I hope we get to see more of Spain and possibly more of Romano~. Spain/Romano is my OTP, so I love how you showed their relationship in this story, whether you mean it platonic or not. &hearts
... okay, wow, I rambled :'D Sorry for making you read all that.
Oh, and just a question. It's already such a load with all these characters already, but I'm just curious, will Switzerland be making an appearance in all this? I'm interested to see where he's at, being a neutral nation and all. :O
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Date: 2009-08-15 04:28 am (UTC)Also, I have to admit, writing evil!Prussia is really fun too.
I have never written extensively for Spain before and I really wanted to try it so when I decided to go the route I did---I ended up giving Spain this really large role and it's been cool exploring his character. He's a really interesting guy. He has such a violent past but keeps such a pleasant face. He's really tough and near-impossible to intimidate.
Switzerland will be making an appearance eventually. I don't know exactly when but he will appear.
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Date: 2009-08-16 03:32 pm (UTC)I love all the traits you just mentioned about him, because I just LOVE it when people write him as something more than a sunny idiot. Because, with the history he has, I feel he can't help but be a much deeper character than that. :D
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Date: 2009-08-15 11:46 pm (UTC)I have one word to say. FINLAND! He was fantastic. I loved how you portrayed him in the fight scenes. And China was brilliant too! You showed him to have so many emotions and on a level I've never seen him on before. Oh and France. That part was so sad.
France clenched his fists. “Useless,” he said, quietly, to the empty room. “Is that what I am?”
I love France in a love-hate way but I felt so sorry for him when he said that. You actually made me love France even more.
Same with Spain. I've always loved Spain, hes probably in my top 3 favourite characters but now I love him even more. Thats something really special when a fic can affect your opinions on a character and you have done that. Thank you so much for this fic. It really is one of the most epic things I have ever read! :D