Oh well, 2-5 business days lets me think over just what in the hell I am going to do, and lets me tell you guys about myself. I'm a seventeen-year-old girl who loves manga and anime, cleaning, and anything to do with WWII. Especially panzer tanks. They are awesome. I live alone, although I used to live with my parents and brother. My family is old money, and when my parents died in a car crash, neither me or my brother were legal adults, and therefore would've been put up for adoption. Screw that. We booked flights to other countries, trying to find the most rural places possible. That is how I ended up in a mansion in southern England, living alone, having the free time to spend six hours playing Tetris.
As for my mental abilities... Well, let's say that, while I was in a school system, I pulled straight 'A' s in honours classes. Without trying. Unfortunately, my mental stability is another situation entirely. I'm paranoid, I'm OCD. I'm antisocial. I'm an insomniac. I've got bipolar and split personality disorders. And ever since I moved here, I am 100% unmedicated. I'm going to be nice again (Wow, new record!) and skip the rest of the rant about how I'm so mentally unstable and likely to crack with any differentiation in my schedule, and just skip right to when my first unit arrived.
'Knock knock knock.' The sudden sound startled me. Living out where I did (the middle of nowhere) I rarely got visitors. Rarely as in never. So, me being myself, I grabbed the nearest safety weapon*, which was a hockey stick in this particular case, and made my way to the front door. Man, you should've seen the look on the delivery guy's face when I answered the door. Then again, it isn't every day that you are met with the sight of a skinny girl in a Rammstien t-shirt wielding a hockey stick like a sword, I guess.
*(I feel the need to explain. Being paranoid causes you to always have some sort of comforting object near you. I, personally, have some sort of sporting device that can be used as a weapon in every. Fricking. Room. Of my house. Which is a mansion, if you missed that part.)
Seeing that He didn't mean any immediate harm, I got out of my battle stance and cautiously approached him. He was a decent enough looking guy, with short black hair and gray-green eyes. He was on the taller side and was a little lanky, but like I said, generally good looking.
"This package is for a 'Krystall Anderson'. You her?"
"The very same. I assume you're bringing me my Hetalia unit?"
"Yup. Sign here, please. Do you want me to bring it in?"
As I signed, I nodded my head absently. I didn't interact with people, even when I had the chance to, so I usually just bobbed my head hoping that the question I didn't hear was a 'yes or no'.
As the delivery guy left, he handed me a manila envelope that seemed to contain a rather thick stack of papers. "That's the guide. I'll be back in another week or so to bring the next unit. Hope you got someone you can handle!" He said with sincerity. I chuckled. Knowing my luck, it was the most difficult to handle unit they produced.
I placed the envelope on the table near the front door. In my family we have- well, had- a long standing joke about directions. They weren't directions. They were destructions. Me and my brother are both very alike in the way we do things, and that is to completely ignore directions and figure things out ourselves, because if we followed the directions, we always, without fail, broke whatever the directions went to. This included model airplanes, videogames, you name it. And because I did NOT want to break my unit, I just went about opening the box without any further ado.
Unceremoniously using my beloved hockey stick as a makeshift crowbar, I pried the front off of the crate to reveal… Prussia, who appeared to be sleeping peacefully against the inside of the crate. Thank goodness. Honestly. He is one of the few who isn't really dangerous, even if he would annoy me a little bit.
I was so relieved that a 'Thank Gott' slipped out of my mouth. (Gott is German for god, and my brother currently takes up residence in Germany, so when we talk he gives me language lessons) Apparently Prussia heard this, and snapped awake. Seeing a person in front of him directly after waking up, I don't really blame him for his reaction, but it still wasn't pleasant to have his hands wrapped around my neck.
"What's wrong with you?" I gasped out. He seemed to realize what he was doing just then, and let go. I'm even more relieved that it wasn't Russia.
He stood there for a moment, staring blankly, before his signature smirk came back to his face. He walked around me, looking me up and down, grin getting bigger and bigger as he finally came to a stop in front of me.
Let me take this opportunity to tell you what I look like. I have dark brown hair that goes about two inches past my shoulders, eyes that are somewhere between brown and yellow, thin-rimmed glasses, and a form that pretty much any girl would be jealous of. Aside from being pretty flat-chested, of course. But when you're 5'6" and weigh about 105 pounds, there isn't enough weight to spare for an underdeveloped chest.
"Hey gorgeous, wanna see the awesome me's five meters?" Within a few moments, he was behind me. Groping my arse. Now would be a good time to tell you that I took innumerable self defense classes when I was younger. As such, this situation did not end well for the Prussian, who was now lying on the tile floor, flat on his back, grabbing the back of his head in pain. "What the fuck was that for?" He screeched at me.
"To be completely truthful, it's because I didn't expect you to touch me. Be glad I wasn't holding that hockey stick-" I gestured to the could-be weapon "-Or your headache would be a lot worse." He winced at the thought, and I offered him a hand in getting up. Being the egotistical person he is, however, he ignored my offer and picked himself up off the floor, alternating between looking around for something and glaring at me.
Oh yeah, he came with a smaller box. Maybe he's looking for something in there? I thought to myself as I followed his gaze, pointedly ignoring the glares. Deciding that I should get whatever he was looking for, I found the smaller box and opened it. Inside was his Teutonic Knight uniform, and what I assume he was searching for, Gilbird. I touched the soft yellow feathers of the chick, and he immediately woke up, fluttering around and chirping 'Piyo!'
As soon as Prussia heard his friend, his mood brightened noticeably. "Hey Gilbird! How've you been, buddy?" The small chick chirped again in response, flying around the Albino's head happily before settling in his white hair.
"Hey... Gilbert. Are you hungry?" I learned early on that the fastest way to someone's heart was through their stomach. It seemed to apply to units, as well.
"Yeah, what do you have for the awesome me to eat?"
I really wish he hadn't asked that. I have extremely limited cooking abilities, and I mostly just kept the basics in the kitchen.. eggs, sausage, pasta, cereal. Um… I didn't even know if there was anything else.
"Are you just gonna stand there staring at my awesomeness, or are you going to answer my question?"
"I don't know what we have to eat, but if you want to cook something, 'Your Awesomeness', the kitchen is that way." I pointed to the left, indicating a rather large door that led into a semi-modern kitchen. With a self-satisfied smirk, he followed my directions, already at home even though he'd just arrived. I was thinking about which room he should stay in when I heard him cry out in what I think is delight.
"You have German bier!" He shouted excitedly when I followed him into the kitchen. Even though I'm only seventeen, all my I.D.'s and such are fakes, (although completely legitimate, as far as the law is concerned. Money can do a lot.) and claim that I am eighteen, legal drinking age in the UK. I took a liking to beer when… well, let's not go into that, alright? Let's just say that I like German beer more than the others.
"Yeah. It's much better than whatever they have at the pubs here in Britain." Then again, a lot of stuff was better when it wasn't British. Food, for example. As the Prussian dug through my pitiful supply of food, his already large smile got even bigger when he came across the bratwurst.
When he looked at me again, it didn't seem like he hated me so much anymore. Actually, it kind of seemed like he wanted to hug me, even if it was just because I had food he liked. As he went about cooking, I actually thought about reading that manual. I really should.. just in case something I really don't understand happens. Sighing, I went to retrieve the aforementioned manual, whistling 'Fueur Frei" by Rammstien, and to my surprise, Prussia whistled along. I really shouldn't have been surprised, though. It was German, after all.
Picking up the envelope, I took out the manual and skimmed through it. Looking at just the first few sentences, I was already glad that my terrible luck was somewhat nice to me. I hadn't gotten the 'Nyotalia' Gilbert. I was also glad that, even though I woke him up improperly, it didn't result in too much "agony for you and all nearby." Also, I shouldn't bathe with him. That shouldn't be an issue.
"What is your name?" Geez, this guy was always going to interrupt me when I was thinking, wasn't he?
"Krystall, but if you're too lazy or too 'Awesome' to call me that, you can call me Krys."
"Alright then, Krys, food's ready. The Awesome me cooks awesome food, of course, so be grateful."
In all reality, I was. I had a few talents, but cooking was definitely not one of them. Eating a good, home cooked meal was something that I hadn't done in about three years, and it'd been just about as long since I had dined with anyone. Now may be a good time to mention that my table manners aren't all that fantastic… I'm not a messy eater, or a messy anything, for that matter, but I do eat rather quickly. My mom always used to yell at me, saying 'Take human sized bites!' I'd always counter with 'I'm human and it fits in my mouth. Human sized bite.' She never did find a response to that…
"You have an unawesome habit of staring at stuff instead of paying attention to the Awesome Me or my awesome cooking. Eat, already!"
With a little grin at his commentary, I sat down next to him and began 'eating.' Not really eating so much as scarfing down the food in large bites, pausing to wince when a hot piece of potato burnt my tongue. I looked over at him to see a strange look in his red eyes.. I couldn't tell if he was disgusted at my awful manners, or awed at the speed that someone of my stature could consume that amount of food. I finally had to ask. "Just what are you looking at?"
He laughed. You know, that 'kesesesese' thing he does. "You. Do you even taste what you're eating? You're like a vacuum!" He 'kesesesese'd again, apparently amused at the fact that he'd just compared me to a vacuum. I just rolled my eyes and continued to consume the, admittedly, delicious meal. It would take some getting used to, having someone in my house, but I figure I should be able to deal with Gilbert. Oh, how wrong a person can be.