Characters:
Prussia
Canada
Australia
England
Scotland (Australia's uncle)
Germany (the host country)
Ireland
Pairings; British Empire
Summary; Prussia makes a grave mistake
Just before a world meeting, Germany
Prussia stands, greeting the nations with a hostly grin, letting others greet him first and following their lead in bowing or kissing or shaking hands.
"America!" he pulls his Western friend into a hug, "So glad you could make it!"
"Uh…" his friend says quietly, "I'm Canada, actually."
"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry!"
"It's okay," Canada says, "At least you saw me, eh?"
"I'll make it up to you. Beers on me, yeah?"
Canada grins. He's never going to pass up on free beer.
"Did I hear free alcohol?" Australia chimes.
Prussia laughs. "Not for you, Aussie."
"Aw…"
"You're as much of a tightwad as your bloody uncle," England tuts, flicking Australia's ear.
"Nah, I just like booze. And I can actually handle it, unlike some of us."
England smacks Australia around the head.
Prussia greets England with a forcibly polite handshake. "So good of you to make it."
"Never expected the great Prussia to be on door duty," England comments, and Prussia's grip on his hand tightens, "The host country's busy inside, I presume?"
"Yes, he likes to keep himself busy," Prussia says, "And I haven't seen a lot of nations in a while. Works out well, really."
The front doors to the building open hurriedly, a red-headed woman practically falling inside. "Fucking Europe with your fucking cheap booze and your fucking drivers on the wrong fucking side and your fucking coffee fucking fuck!"
Australia and Canada giggle.
Prussia helps her up with a grin. She brushes herself down, skirt-suit wonky and hair sticking up all which ways. Prussia recognises her, but only vaguely.
"Long trip?" he asks warmly.
"Nah. Long morning."
Prussia laughs. "Well, I suppose Britain isn't all that far off Europe, is it?"
"Oh shit," England hisses, biting his knuckle with a grin of anticipation.
The woman looks up at Prussia, round face freckled and eyes burning with anger. And in that second, Prussia remembers the face, freckles hidden under smeared blood, the whites of her eyes flickering in the battle torches, sword glinting in the sunlight. Ireland.
Prussia did not attend the world meeting. Ireland did, hungover killed off with a 'sudden' stress release.
Never call Ireland British. Ever.
Holy shit nation names!
Irish people really don't like being called British. Don't call them British.
Random headcannons of the day;
Australia and Canada are Good Friends (TM)
Ireland swears a lot. It gets worse when she's hungover or ill.
Ireland handles alcohol well, but gets killer hangovers.
Ireland used to be a knight. She and Hungary bond over it.
Ireland hates coffee. Tea is where it's at.
Prussia and Germany make an awesome team when they try.
England is ridiculously passive aggressive, especially towards past enemies.
Australia is an unofficial back-up member of the Awesome Trio.
I own nothing
-Laurel Silver
