Vaetta, MissiriKoharehn, Abc and pinkdoughnuts, thanks for the reviews!
MissiriKoharehn, you're right. I'd personally imagined that the bullet had gone all the way through, but it's either that, or Prussia made a mistake. Whichever you like best ;)
When a human shoots a nation, by the way, and the bullet doesn't go all the way through, it just dissolves after a little while if it's not taken out. I remember mentioning that all the way back in the early chapters of Rising... that seems so long ago now XD
Anyway, here goes another chapter!
Prussia dedicated the years after Napoleon's exile to the island of Elba to getting his life back on track. He missed Königsberg when he left there again, as always, but it felt good to be back in Berlin. He immediately went to Brandenburg's grave, which to his relief had been left untouched all those years.
Much to his dismay, too. It took him all afternoon to get it cleaned up and looking tidy again. Then in the evening he went to Potsdam to see Fritz as well before heading back home. He stayed there for a year until he finally went through with the plans he'd had for decades now: he moved away to live on his own, close enough to his king so that he could go there on an almost daily basis to work, but somewhere with some private space, too. It wasn't exactly a small house, he liked his space, but it was clearly fit for one, maybe two people to live in.
Well… by his standards anyway.
And things went well that way. It was all soon back to normal. The two times he'd seen Hungary and Austria since the end of the war against Napoleon, things between them went back to normal again, too; Prussia didn't quite remember what had triggered it, but he and Austria were fighting again, as they should be. The truce had lasted so long, it was getting disturbing. Hungary, as per usual, was on Austria's side most of the time. She had hit Prussia over the head more than once, but she was never really angry with him anymore. That was the only thing to have stayed as it had been over the past years, and that was the one thing he wanted to never change.
The rest of his family was back where they started, too. They still didn't really get along. But, he'd found with a twinge of pride, they all saw now that they were stronger united. They were all Germans, they were all of the same blood. Maybe they were all very different, but they had to find a way to work together.
Prussia had already decided that he would happily bring them together again like he had done before. This time without going suicidal, though. Maybe that was a better idea.
Fights within the family and among other members of the former Coalition rose to a maximum at the Congress of Vienna.
The shortest way to tell the story was to say that all parties wanted something for themselves and disagreed with everyone else.
It actually took months to get to a final accord. And during that time, Napoleon had returned from Elba and started fighting again. This time, with the Seventh Coalition formed, he was up against the most overwhelming majority yet, so Prussia didn't worry about it. In fact, he was more worried about this 'Congress' than about Napoleon. It took until 9 June 1815 (and they'd started in 1814) to get to a final Act.
"All right, so…" Austria began with a sigh, "let's just get this over with. Anyone want to start?"
Russia got to his feet immediately, walking over to Poland, who looked miserable. "Da. I'll get the little Polish man, right? We've agreed on that now?" A war had nearly broken out over it a little while ago. Austria just nodded quickly and the other nations mumbled their agreement too.
"Most of him, anyway," England then put in, flinching when Russia turned to look at him with his usual creepy smile. Was he trying to be intimidating, or did he seriously not know how scary he was? Prussia still hadn't figured it out. "Also, his name is the Duchy of Warsaw, you'll do good to remember that, Russia."
"I'm Poland," Poland protested softly, looking down. But everyone ignored him.
"And I also get to keep Finland?" Once again everyone agreed with Russia, though Sweden didn't look too happy about it.
Next to say something was Southern Netherlands. The girl looked a little displeased beside her older brother. "Do I have to go with big brother?" she asked, looking at Austria, who had previously controlled her land. "I like brother very much, but our people are so different, I don't think they'll like living together.
Netherlands sighed beside her. "Don't complain, South," he scolded her. "We've been over this before; I don't like it either, but it is how it is. All right? We'll find a way." But Southern Netherlands huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, not looking at Netherlands anymore after that.
Saxony was the next to get angry, glaring at Prussia with a murderous gleam in his brown eyes. "Are you willing to be a little more lenient now, little brother?" He had it almost as bad as Prussia had it before the territories he'd lost to Napoleon had been restored to him. He looked feverish as he sat there, but still well enough to be rebellious, so that was good.
Still, Prussia couldn't feel sorry for him. Saxony had been on their side all this time, but when Napoleon made him certain offers he went to France's side instead. 40% of his land was a tough loss, but one he deserved, the traitor. "Nah," the albino answered with a shrug and a grin. "Just give me all the land you have and I'm happy."
"You're already getting a lot, Prussia," Austria then put in, narrowing his blue eyes at his cousin. He was one of the people who thought Prussia was given too much land and power now. Prussia disagreed. "Do you want me to make a list? Saxony, Swedish Pomerania, the Duchy of Westphalia… do you need me to go on?"
Prussia only laughed. "Yes, please! I'm having too much fun here." He stood up then, grinning as he made a couple of dramatized bows and laughing. "Thank you, all, thank you. I know, I'm too awesome for this world. It's good of you all to recognise my awesome power now, you took your time." Then he quieted down again, enjoying the annoyed, angry stares he got. He was back, and climbing further to the top, and they just had to sit and watch him surpass them all. He would, no doubt about it. He just needed more time. Then he hummed, tapping his chin, deep in thought. "There's one thing I'm still missing, though," he mumbled to Austria, who grew more tense with every word his cousin spoke.
"What, Prussia?" the Austrian asked then, trying to sound calm.
"Well… How about all control over the German Confederation? You've proven time and time again that you don't know what you're doing in trying to keep the family together. I, on the other hand…"
"Not in a million years!" Austria interrupted him, jumping to his feet, his hands clenched into fists. "Prussia, you should be grateful that you're getting any form of authority in the first place! And don't make me laugh. You, able to unite the family better than me? Nonsense! Or do you need me to tell everyone how you united us against Napoleon?"
Prussia gritted his teeth. "You wouldn't dare!"
Austria shrugged, but Russia looked curious now. "No, please," he said with his trademark smile. "Tell us." When neither Prussia nor Austria spoke, he turned to Poland. "You were there in Paris, weren't you? Go on, tell us. I want to know."
Poland looked up at Prussia for a moment, and the Prussian glared at him. If you dare, Polly, I swear-! But knowing how much it would embarrass Prussia and piss him off, Poland's eyes only began to twinkle with satisfaction and he began: "Well, little mister Awesome here got depressed, begged me to kill him, bawled his eyes out and then everyone started showing some more interest in him out of pity." He smirked at Prussia then, who stood frozen, his face red with anger and embarrassment. "So much for bringing the family together, right, Prussia?"
Austria already sighed and hid his face in one hand, sitting back down, clearly waiting for the situation to escalate. It did so a second later when Prussia made a dash for Poland, shoving everyone who tried to stop him aside with next to no effort, then tackled the older man. He dealt him a few swift punches and cursed at him in every language that he knew before being pulled away again. But he kept cursing for a moment longer –after all, he still had Latin, French and Hungarian to go.
When Prussia settled down again and Poland got a handkerchief from Hungary for his bleeding nose, England sighed. "Well, it's always good to see youngsters with such… fire. But, Prussia, for Heaven's sake, get a grip on yourself. Why you feel you must always resort to violence is beyond me."
"Maybe because no one ever listens to my awesome words," Prussia muttered, looking away angrily, "so I make them listen to my awesome fists instead. Works wonders."
"Oh, boo-hoo," South Italy then replied with a sigh, picking at his nails with a bored expression.
Prussia just gritted his teeth angrily and turned to him instead. "Do you want to have a go, too?"
"Prussia, sit down!"
"Wow, talk about a temper."
"Who allowed him inside in the first place?"
"Well, it was clear from the get-go that Prussia would throw a hissy fit again."
"He's a genius on the battlefield, all right, but so violent, it's not even funny anymore."
"Just another one of those stupid jerks trying to be better than everyone else."
"Can't take any criticism, can he?"
Everyone was trying to be quiet about it, but Prussia heard them as they whispered these things about him, and it took him only a minute to get up and walk out of the congress hall, looking at nobody as he went. But when he passed Poland, he grabbed the man's head from behind and smashed it against the desk he sat at with Russia and Finland, satisfied to hear him grunt in pain. And as he walked by Austria, he casually snatched his glasses from his sissy face and flung it at the nearest wall, smashing it to pieces. He closed the doors behind him with a loud bang.
Now why had he said all those things? He'd known something like this would happen. Sometimes he really got the feeling he didn't even control his own tongue.
"Well, I got what I came for," he scoffed, kicking the wall angrily, ignoring the pulsing pain it left in his foot. Then he grinned to himself. "I'm one of the strongest nations in Europe now. You see that, Holy Rome? I told you I'd become great one day. Oh, and I will do something for our family too. All in due time."
Then he sighed and sat down somewhere, staring at the ceiling and lost in thought. He'd been trying very hard to be liked more by others over the past years, but he'd ruined it with Austria once again, Saxony hated him no doubt, Russia… was Russia, the UK was starting to distrust him, France wouldn't talk to him (and he wouldn't talk to France), he hadn't seen Spain in years. Well, at least Württemberg, Hesse and Hanover liked him a bit more lately. Bavaria had once come to him to tell him that, though he tried, there was something he just didn't like about Prussia so the older kingdom shouldn't expect any friendship between them ever. Prussia had just nodded and said that he hadn't expected any better, and decided to still not tell the boy why he so disliked Prussia for no apparent reason at all. The albino had a pretty good guess. After all, I've always despised Lithuania, haven't I?
"Oh yeah, I've really risen to the top now," he mumbled to himself to get his mind off all that. "Life's good. Life's awesome." Then he sat up, an idea suddenly popping into his mind. If he told himself that, if he told himself that he loved his life, surely there would be a time when he'd start believing his own lie? It was worth the try. He sat back and closed his eyes, humming softly. "People don't like me," he told himself in a whisper. "I don't like people. Fair deal, isn't it? Win-win for everyone. Netherlands would be proud."
This had to work, it just had to. He hated being who he was; the lonely guy who tried so hard but was disliked by everyone. And he screwed up all the time. He just couldn't do anything right when it came to people, even though he loved being around others and getting some positive attention. So why not become the guy who revelled in the loneliness, who didn't need anyone else because he was awesome enough on his own already?
It must be possible, right?
And while he did that, he would also find a way to become even more awesome on a national scale too. After all, the world could never have enough awesomeness. They needed him to liven up the party.
He laughed then, forgetting all his earlier frustration. "All right, Operation Awesome starts today!"
A week later Prussia was in Southern Netherlands, at Waterloo, where his army was about to face off with Napoleon's troops once again and hopefully one last time. But right now, on the evening of 16 June, he just returned to his headquarters after losing a battle at Ligny, south of Waterloo.
16 June 1815
Thousands of deserters. Thousands. The damn cowards! If they had stayed, we would've won, I'm sure of it. I mean, we haven't lost too many more men than Napoleon has.
And General Blücher has been badly injured. He's an old man, only a bit younger than Fritz was when he died, and his horse fell on top of him.
Right, so he's out.
Don't get me wrong, I feel bad for the man. I've had a horse fall on me once or twice, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, especially a human and one with such old, fragile bones…
I should get some sleep… tomorrow we shall head toward Waterloo.
Prussia's retreat went very well, but of course, they were being chased by the French. The Prussians went into the Wood of Paris and managed to take possession of it. Prussia didn't sleep all night, and only reached Waterloo by the evening of 18 June.
By the time Prussia arrived there with the IV Corps, British commander Wellington was discussing with England and Scotland. Prussia and the leader of this particular corps, Bülow, were the two only ones to approach him now, and the kingdom was just in time to hear Wellington say: "Night or the Prussians must come."
At this, Prussia chuckled softly, then threw his arms up. "In that case, rejoice! We're here!"
England and Scotland had already seen him and Bülow arrive, but Wellington only turned around now. He looked surprised for a moment, pleasantly so, but then he went into business-mode again and started discussing the battle so far with Bülow. Meanwhile Scotland laughed softly as he saw Prussia swaying a little. "When's the last time you've slept, Prussia? You look dead on your feet."
"Depends," the Prussian answered with a yawn. "What time is it?" Then he just sighed and shook his head, not waiting for an answer. "Almost two days ago, anyway. But I suppose I can't nod off yet, can I? First we have a Frenchie to defeat."
England didn't look so amused. He just scowled, muttering: "Well, you're certainly doing us a favour! At this rate you should've just stayed away, Prussia. You're of no use to us if you can barely stand up straight."
Prussia was about to reply, but Scotland was quicker. The tall nation turned to his younger brother and just shrugged. "Don't be so hard on him, he lost a battle just two days ago and we know that the French have been after the Prussians all day yesterday. Besides," he then added with a grin, "the lad can always not participate in the first attack his corps makes, take a much-needed nap, then be… what do you call it all the time?"
"Awesome."
"And be awesome on the next attack."
England seemed to accept this idea and nodded silently, but Prussia shook his head fiercely. "What-? No! I came here to help, so I'll help! And besides, it wouldn't be the first time that I've fought like this." He huffed then, straightening his back and raising his chin, trying to look more awake and alert, but he could tell from England's mocking gaze that he only looked pathetic.
"Did you win?"
"…Unimportant."
Then Wellington and Bülow returned, and the Prussian commander immediately turned to his kingdom. "Our corps shall advance on the town of Plancenoit," he explained, and Prussia nodded, eager to get moving. "You should rest for now, however. You've been on guard all of last night. It's not worth letting you be taken prisoner or worse."
England and Scotland snickered softly, smirking at the younger kingdom, who just sighed and rolled his eyes before leaving again to a place where he could safely get some rest. He couldn't deny that he fell asleep just as soon as his head hit his makeshift pillow, though.
Later that night, after Prussia had slept only a short while, he found himself in Plancenoit anyway. The first Prussian attempt to take the town had failed, but this time they were attacking with more forces.
Guns were being handed out to a number of the Prussian soldiers before they would storm the town, and Prussia was watching it all calmly. But he lost his calm for a moment when someone handed him a gun as well. "I only fight with a sword," he replied hesitantly, taking a step back.
The soldier looked surprised at this and narrowed his eyes. "But sir," he then said, sounding confused, "swords are terribly old-fashioned. The French have firearms –you could never get close enough to them if you fought them with a sword."
"They don't all have guns," Prussia protested simply and turned around, walking away from the man without another word. He would not use a weapon like that, not ever. He'd never liked the noise they made, and it was what had killed Brandenburg. No way.
Before he and his men were to try and take over Plancenoit, Prussia addressed them all. "We cannot afford any mistakes tonight, men," he told them from where he stood on an old, broken wall, overlooking the army. "This is a battle that will be remembered for centuries, and we're to be part of it. I know that some of you will not come out of the town alive, but you should all know that each and every one of you, whether you survive or not, will be remembered for years and years to come for your bravery and your dedication to your country. You are true Prussians." He fell silent for just a moment and took a deep breath. "It is the knowledge that you are Prussians, which makes me proud to be Prussia. It is an honour to have people like all of you." His gaze hardening, he drew his sword and lifted it in the air, raising his voice as he finished: "Now let's go to Plancenoit and make it ours!"
Hours later, Prussia was inside the town, helping some men get away from the church in Plancenoit, which was completely ablaze. The fire seared his skin without touching him, and the heat and smoke made it impossible for him to keep his eyes open all the time, and his sight was blurry with tears, hopelessly trying to protect his eyes from the smoke. He didn't even know if the men he was helping were French or Prussian, and he didn't care. He would get them out of here and then fight again, and if he somehow ended up killing the men he was helping right now, then so be it. This was war, he couldn't afford to be bothered by all that, not now. That would come later, if at all.
But someone attacked him from behind then. He could just about hear him coming over the sound of gunshots and the roaring of the fire, just as the soldier took his last step before moving to stab the kingdom, and Prussia spun away to avoid his sword. He wasn't fast enough, and it caught him in the side, leaving a deep gash. The Prussian gritted his teeth, but didn't make a sound, trying to ignore the pain as he stepped from side to side, quickly dodging the other soldier's sword until he saw an opening to attack. Eventually he knocked his sword away as the man thrust it at him again, jumping and crashing into his side. Prussia himself landed on his feet, but his left leg buckled under him as the gash in his side seemed to tear open further with the hard impact. The French soldier was thrown against the burning church's wall, his head hitting the stone hard, and he lay on the ground like a doll. Prussia watched for a moment longer, when bricks from higher up the tower came crashing down. He turned away quickly then, but from the sound the stones made as they hit the ground, he could tell that the ground wasn't the only thing they'd hit. What a horrible way to go…
The gash in Prussia's side had healed a little by the time he reached the heart of the battle again, but though it still hurt badly, he fought as hard as ever. After all, this was the final offensive against Napoleon, he just knew it was, he felt it. He had to give it his all, until he couldn't fight any more or until he'd chased every last Frenchman from Plancenoit. He wished he knew what was going with the other troops fighting around Waterloo. Were they winning? He prayed they were. Over here everything was going relatively well, from all he could see, though it was messy. Corpses were strewn about everywhere he looked.
But there was something else wherever he looked, too: muskets. Guns were so much more popular with the military than they used to be, and he hated it.
He hadn't anticipated just how much he could and would hate guns by the end of that day.
Because a little while later, he heard an ear-splitting bang not too far from him, then felt hot metal pierce his chest. But the warm bullet filled him with a cold rather than heat, and his vision went black.
"Prussia?"
The albino kingdom hummed softly, frowning. Who was talking to him? He recognised the voice, but couldn't place a name and face to it. He opened his eyes, blinking groggily, only to see Netherlands standing over him, looking slightly worried.
A tiny smile spread on his younger cousin's lips when he saw Prussia awake. "Good, you're back. Do you remember anything about the battle?"
Prussia tried to sit up, but it sent pain through his chest and abdomen, and he lay back down again. Thinking hard, he got only a few things from the battle of… how long ago? "Fire," he rasped. "Guns… everywhere. Damn, the noise…"
"What are you talking about?" another voice then asked in English, and Prussia craned his neck to see England standing a little way off. Immediately he sat up; he could take it to look weaker than normally in front of his family, but never in front of others.
Netherlands sighed. "Be patient, Arthur. I'd wager his mind isn't set to English quite yet, so let me just use German first and I'll translate-"
"No, English is fine," Prussia then interrupted, getting to his feet. That hurt even more, but he just clenched his jaws and put up with it. "So, what have I missed? And why exactly did I miss it in the first place?"
"You were shot in the heart," England answered bluntly, looking at Prussia with a blank gaze. "And when I say heart, I mean it. Also, do you even feel pain in the first place? There was so much blood on your clothes…"
Prussia grinned at him, looking rather cocky for a moment. "Who cares about pain when there's a battle to be fought? What, you can't block it out and keep going?"
The Englishman scoffed. "Sure I can, but not that much; I'm not suicidal."
Prussia tried to ignore this careful reference to what Poland had revealed about him at the Congress of Vienna. Was it even a reference to that, or was it just poorly chosen words? Shut your yap, Tea-Sucker.
"As for what you've missed," Netherlands then said, clearly sensing very well that his two allies could start fighting any moment if he didn't distract them. "We've won the battle, Napoleon has been taken captive. Your army did an amazing job in Plancenoit, amongst other places. England doesn't like to admit it, but we wouldn't have made it without your army."
"Don't give the man too much credit, Netherlands," England huffed, turning around and walking away, leaving the two cousins alone. Netherlands and Prussia looked at each other for a moment, and though Prussia could see that the younger kingdom was trying to warn him silently, he didn't pay any attention to it.
Instead he huffed and walked after England with quick paces. He caught up to him in mere seconds, grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around to face Prussia. "What's your sudden problem with me?" he demanded angrily, glaring at him.
England didn't seem fazed by it, and simply retorted: "What is your problem with the world? You're unbelievably arrogant, thinking you're so great, you're violent and cruel and why do you love taunting others so much?"
"I would tell you," Prussia answered with a shrug, not wanting to look at him anymore, "but you're not worth the time and effort. The Awesome Me's got better things to worry about than just another person who will never understand."
England was silent for a moment as Prussia turned and walked back to Netherlands, but then he called after him: "So you actually have a reason for all this? Tell me. No, seriously, tell me!" When Prussia didn't reply, didn't even look back, it only seemed to anger the Englishman further, and Prussia just caught a mutter from him before he got out of earshot: "Something's seriously wrong with that man…"
When he got back to Netherlands, Scotland was also there, talking to the younger kingdom. After just a few words, Prussia immediately caught that it was about trading. It's Neddie, when isn't it about trading? But what Scotland said intrigued him. "Really, the economy has gotten a huge boost because of it," the Scot told Netherlands. "You should try it out yourself. Of course, we're still busy developing more efficient machines, they're quite costly as of yet, but compared to the production rate we had before all this, it's certainly worth it."
Machines? This made Prussia curious, and he sat down on the edge of a table and listened. Of course he'd heard about the developments in Great Britain, with machinery powered by water and steam. They were exporting many more products than they used to. And he'd also heard something quite amazing just a short while ago…
Netherlands was thinking of that too, it seemed. "And the locomotives?" he asked, sounding excited but clearly trying to hide that fact. "Still going strong?"
"Only being improved with each passing year," Scotland stated proudly. "There are plans to make it public in the near future, a great form of transport if you ask me."
Steam engines, huh? Prussia smiled as he listened to this conversation. Now that would be his next conquest. What a way to become the best, strongest, most influential country on the mainland. Not many countries had followed Britain's example yet. His family most definitely hadn't. He would make sure he'd end up way ahead of them, and he would do it as soon as he possibly could.
"Well," Netherlands then said, looking doubtful for a moment, "it does sound good, but you need coal for all that, don't you? I don't really have such great coalmines at my place, and importing them is expensive business. For now and until I'm back where I should be, economy-wise, I'll just stick to agriculture. Manual labour."
Prussia decided that this was a good time to speak up. "It all sounds good to me," he said, and the two other kingdoms immediately turned to look at him. "How does it work? How much does it cost to make an engine? Also, the locomotives sound awesome. How do you make those?"
Scotland laughed nervously and looked away for a moment, overwhelmed by the questions. "Hey, laddie, I'm not… not an expert. I've been keeping track of the developments, but I'm no mechanic."
Slightly disappointed, Prussia sighed. But then he got a new idea. "Can I just… go to your place and see it for myself, then? Maybe I'll pick a thing or two up, who knows."
"Fine with me. But I think England may not like the idea so much…"
"Screw England," the Prussian then said bluntly, getting to his feet again. "I don't need his permission to hop on a ship, do I? If we plan it well, he doesn't even need to know I'm there." Scotland still didn't seem convinced, so Prussia added: "I'll take beer with me. You know, the good one."
Scotland chuckled at this, shaking his head slowly. "I do love German beer… All right, all right, we'll see about it, laddie. But not until after the peace process that's to come now ends. Aye?" Prussia nodded and thanked him quickly. Then the Scot smirked and gave him a poke in the chest. "So how's the hole in your chest doing, eh? Hah… it was like a crater. Don't you just love immortality?" The last part sounded sarcastic, but Prussia agreed anyway –not with the sarcasm, though.
"I was out, so I didn't feel it anyway," he just said, shrugging. "Shame that I missed the moment of glory, though. Oh well, more to come in the future, I'm certain."
Weeks later Prussia was back home again, writing in his journal about the war and his plans for the future. He and Scotland hadn't made any definitive plans for Prussia's trip to the island yet, but Frederick William III had already given Prussia his consent to stay there for a couple of weeks at most, so long as he would come back with new knowledge to inspire his people to follow his example. Prussia hadn't thought that should be a condition; it was a given.
A noise from the kitchen alerted him, and he dropped his work immediately. The potatoes were boiling over. With a grunt he got up and ran over to the pot, taking it off the fire quickly and burning his fingers in the process. "Ah, shit," he cursed under his breath when he saw that his potatoes were completely overcooked. Maybe he could still make a mash out of it, but it looked like crap. The carrots weren't much better off, and he'd managed to burn the sausage. Again.
He was awesome in many, many different ways, but 'awesome as a cook' wasn't one of them. That was the one thing he missed about living with his leader; the food there was so good.
"I wanted to live on my own," he told himself, shoving his ruined dinner onto a plate with a grimace. "I should either learn to cook or learn to deal with this. Simple enough." He hadn't been much better as a child, when he'd lived on his own, of course, but back then his standards hadn't been as high as they were now, after some centuries of living in… well, pretty much luxury, actually.
Setting his dinner aside as of yet, he first finished writing.
3 August 1815
Napoleon has been exiled again, and this time he won't be escaping. France has been restored to a monarchy, and we're currently busy making up yet another treaty.
It took quite a while for that wound in my chest to fully heal. Sure, it had closed within a day, but it kept hurting for nearly a week. I hate guns.
But I suppose, with how much they're being used in modern warfare, I should get used to handling them again. In a few weeks, I'll start. But… not yet.
Maybe after I come back from Scotland, where I'll be learning about industry, machinery, stuff like that.
I'll use that knowledge to improve on my situation here, and I'll surpass everyone in the family and show them that, unlike Austria, I know what I'm doing. It's about time that Prussia took over.
Oh, it's not like I want to rule over all of them like a dictator, I know how that would end. But I want us to be united.
We need to be united. We're family after all.
We're Germany.
Prussia sure can be a jerk sometimes. Unintentionally, though he does love messing with people.
Nah... not the best people person.
And not the best cook either. I cannot imagine Prussia, of all characters, being a culinary genius. Or an average cook, for that matter.
Oh, at this rate he's going to have so much fun in the two world wars, with all the guns and worse. Hah. He'll love tanks, he seriously will *smirk*
Well, thanks for reading again, and I hope you liked it!
