Drakon here; and I'm actually trying to undertake a new story (For once). So, this was created from a conversation I had with B O S T O N Tea Party about a month or so ago. And it became this...
I fail on so many levels with writing this...
Don't own, don't sue.
Why do these things always happen to me? Matthew thought as he rounded a street corner, a bullet barely missing his head. He was being chased (Not to mention shot at), through the streets of some small town outside of Vancouver at night, by Cuba of all people.
"GET BACK HERE AMERICA SO I CAN SHOOT YOU!" If it had been an earlier date, Matthew would have turned around and sworn up and down that he was Canada and not his brother, but this time it wouldn't have made a difference. More shots rang out, one bullet nicking his left arm; Cuba's aim was getting better. Matthew was starting to tire out; he'd already been sprinting through the cold slush for 10 minutes, and it wasn't doing his respiratory system any favors.
Maple! This isn't good, what am I going to do? I won't be able to keep running much longer… In a last ditch effort to try and evade the Cuban, he turned left onto another street, turned right into an abandoned alleyway and then took advantage of the fact that there was an empty dumpster and hid in it, closing the lid after he had jumped in. The Canadian panted a bit and tried to ignore the smell of what was probably that day's garbage and the pain in his arm.
I'll sit here for a minute or two and catch my breath… He sighed and let his head rest against the metal wall of the being used to the cold, he wasn't used to running at top speed in the cold. He didn't have much of a reprieve though.
"America, I know you're hiding around here somewhere! Come out already!" Matthew held his breath for a few moments, hoping he could just turn invisible like he always seemed to do. Twenty seconds later, there was no gunshot, only various curses in Spanish and mutterings about 'damn Americans hiding in cold places'. After five minutes of hearing nothing, Matthew deemed it safe to climb out of the dumpster. Staying close to the walls, he peered around the corner in both directions. No Cuba, nor any other crazy person that would mistake him for America and try to kill him.
"Dieu merci…" He sighed in relief before walking out of the alley. Snow was just beginning to fall so he pulled up the hood of his heavy overcoat; the added advantage of the hood being that it made him even more invisible than usual.
That's the third time this week someone's tried to shoot me, and the fifth time that I've been mistaken for Alfred. Ugg, stupid Al, always getting us into a mess. Matthew kicked a random snowdrift, pretending it was his brother's ass. It's his fault that everything has gone to hell anyway.
This was actually true; Alfred had been the driving force behind the world's current situation. In fact, he had been the one to propose the idea actually. It would save human lives, contain the spread of communism, and most importantly, keep a nuclear war from occurring. The real reasoning in behind the idea, in Matthew's (And probably the majority of the countries') opinion at least, was so Alfred could play hero. Of course, his boss was to glad to accept the idea so, they wrote up a proposition to show to the UN. The Non-War Treaty proposed that there would be no more international military conflicts between any of the countries who had signed, and that the personified countries would instead fight it out between one another. Of course, the only thing the public would be told was that there would be no more wars, and that the UN would only use diplomacy to solve disputes. Every world leader present endorsed the plan immediately.
The idea was less accepted between the actual countries though, actually, the majority of them absolutely hated it. Countries might not die as easily as humans, but that didn't mean that they couldn't die, or at the very least get badly hurt. None of their bosses took the time to consider that though; no humans would die, so why bother to consider other possibilities? Besides, without the plan there would have probably been another war, a war with nuclear missile strikes. According to Japan, no country would ever want to suffer those.
Almost immediately after the treaty was signed, Russia had his former satellite countries under his boot once again, with China, the Nordics, Cuba, Turkey, and North Korea backing him up. America, well, he just claimed everyone who wasn't on Russia's side and hadn't declared neutrality his ally, which automatically made a country a target.
Of course, the countries with America weren't so keen on the idea in the first place, they bosses had been but they sure won't. The older ones like England and France were wondering how inflicting damage upon themselves affect their cities, and by extension their people. Germany, Italy and Japan were concerned what would happen if they actually did die. What would happen then?
In a literal war between countries, no one was sure anymore. Poor Matthew definitely wasn't. He had been on good terms with most of the other countries (The ones that noticed him at least) before this whole thing started. Now, he was just another target to Russia's cronies, a target that looked remarkably like America. Sighing, the Canadian kept trudging through the snow. Ten minutes later, he had arrived at the motel he was staying at for the night; after nearly being blown up in his own home, Matthew had felt the need to keep moving around.
The room itself was rather plain, generic watercolor prints acting as the only decoration. His bear, Kumajirou was just sitting on the bed, apparently watching the flickering TV across from it. After locking the door, all five or so locks on the door actually, Matthew removed his heavy outer coat and just plopped down on the ratty mattress next to his pet and was trying to figure out why the bear was so enthralled by static. His trance was quickly broken by a rock-and-roll version of 'God Save the Queen', someone was calling his cell phone. Needless to say, he answered it.
"Hello?"
"Matthew is that you? It's Arthur." The Canadian suppressed a slight laugh, he had already guessed that since he had set his phone to play the Brit's national anthem whenever he called (He had done that with everyone's numbers just for the heck of it one day).
"Yes, what's going on?" Matthew could make out the sound of arguing in the background, as well as some rather crude language. There was a rush of static as England sighed.
"My brothers are visiting." That explained the shouting "They say that we should stick together now with all this madness going on," Matthew could hear the shouting in the background increase in volume, enough that he could make out some of the argument. Something about shagging a sheep? The Canadian could practically feel England's irritation, even though they were just talking on the phone. "Pardon me for a moment-ANGUS, SHAMUS, WOULD YOU TWO STOP BICKERING FOR A BLOODY MINUTE? I'M TRYING TO USE THE PHONE!" Matthew couldn't discern what was said next, but he definitely heard the crashes and various swearwords after that. And he thought getting along with his brother was difficult. After a few minutes the shouting stopped. "I am so sorry, umm…er,"
"Matthew." He had to keep himself from sighing; England had forgotten his name again.
"Yes. Anyway, I called in to make sure you weren't dead. Alfred's been text messaging me every ten minutes asking if I've heard from you at all. The bloody git hasn't shut up about how 'Mattie hasn't called me' for the past three days." Matthew just shook his head. Typical Alfred, thinking that his little brother couldn't take care of himself and was always in need of a hero.
"Just tell Al that I'm doing fine, and that he needs to stop worrying." And that I'm not damsel-in-distress.
"I shall pass that along to him, and do me a favor and just call him every once in a while. He's really getting my nerves." That was when there was an exceptionally loud crash on England's end. It was probably really valuable, really old or both because the when Arthur spoke again, it was rather obvious he was holding back a rather large explosion. "My apologizes but I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut our conversation short, good bye." Matthew heard England shouting at his brothers in some odd bastard language before he ended the call.
"What's the world coming to Kumichiki?" He looked at the animal, like he expected him to answer. But the polar bear just ignored him, as per usual.
Well there it is; I'll update whenever I damn feel like it. Honestly; I will. And it mostly depends if I want to write...I hope I didn't waste your time with this...
