>"I can just see him getting caught up in a 'bro-reunion' with Germany." And you haven't spoken with your grandfather in a while.
Estonia huffs. "Uh, hello. I'm Estonia, a City-state class nation from the baltic. In europe. Where we're going. To look for the guy I wanted to find."
You look at her confusedly. Canada only quirks an eyebrow, and flips one black pigtail over her shoulder.
"There's no superpower in Europe right now. I would have felt it if any were."
Canada's lip twitches. "Well, if he isn't there, it's still worth it to go. You'll need a interfacer if you want to be able to fight."
"I can fight perfectly well!" E snaps.
"Not as a team. You always need a interfacer. Some city state to provide support. And I know just the person."
On the northern shore of Europe, a man stands, not alone, but apart. His flag is simple shirt, red white and blue, topped by a bright orange kerchief. In his mouth, a small roll of paper burns slowly, trailing a serpentine of smoke into the dimming sky.
Behind him, a woman, only slightly homely, draped in red, black and yellow, her eyes hidden by the glare off her thick glasses, slowly raises a bar of chocolate to her lips, and kicks.
The small ball at her feet rolls speedily, a cyan, white and red blur, to smash bodily into the back of the mans knees and sprawl in the shape of a small (but adult) girl.
"GYAAAAH! Belle! Dammit I looked cool until you fucked it up!" Screeches Ned, rubbing his rear and fuming from the ears.
Something in Your pocket buzzes.
"Geh heheheheh! You never look cool, Ned. On a good day you look like you drive the fuckin' mystery machine."
Ned jumps at Belgium as you slide your finger over your phone. "Y'ellow?"
You ignore the usual biting and punching Belle and Ned get up to. It's been like that since after the War, and they haven't hurt each other yet. Instead you concentrate on the cool, quiet voice on the other end of the phone.
"And why would I do that?" You ask.
"Pothead!" Screams Belle
"Nerd!" Shouts Ned.
"It's going to be cost-"
The number hits your ears like a wave. A green wave, of money. A wave of money. A massive money-filled wave of money!
The smile on your face verges on the edge of insane. You sink into a haze of green, euros floating through your thoughts, struck again and again by the seductive phrases like "open trade opportunities", "tourism income boost packages", and "commonwealth of the financial redistribution". You're sunk, lost, taken hook line and stinker. And you don't even realize it.
You hang up, only to find that Belle and Ned are looking at you, concern in their faces. "Are you ok, Lux?"
You explain your brilliant plan.
The rocking of the boat is making you vaguely sick, if you're honest with yourself. You don't let it show. For one, if you let it show now, it'll open the dams, and the other norse will continue to disallow you to truely be nordic.
And Liberia is looking at you intently, which is making you uncomfortable in ways you kind of wish you didn't understand. His eyes are very, very... brown.
A lot of Liberia is quite brown, actually. Not just his skin, but even the jacket he wears aa his flag is rough, dirty without being particularly unclean. Seeing where he lived, it hardly suprises you. It's dirty and grimy too... but homely, in a way.
You're a rock star, you remind yourself. You play in stadiums all over the world. You outrocked even Britain, outsang Mali, and your band is household knowledge.
So why is your mouth so dry.
"Fuck..." you say. The swaying of the boat is making the bile rise in your throat. You need something to occupy your mind on the way back home to meet your "interface".
>"...Canada was very polite."
>"Got any guesses as to who gets so excited over thirty euros and some vaguely economic technobabble?"
>"I love you" oh god you want to die now why would you even think that now you're probably blushing and you have a nose bleed and good god he hates you he totally knows what you just thought and he hates you for it you stupid bitch and he probably Is already dating somebody whos cooler and better than you and probably has an hourglass figure to turn Austria green with envy and you just realized you're rambling again and thats such an Estonian thing its like that time you went to Czech's "self defense" seminar and you couldnt stop staring at his pectorals well you mean you guess it was Czech but even then it's not like you're like the idiots who fall for Austria you only like smart guys and besides you bet Liberia doesn't even have pecs so-
> Good God Estonia, calm down and put on your big girl panties, Jesus.
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Topic: The Songbird and the Son vs the World (Read 3070 times)