*crawls out from under a rock* I'm still alive, I'm just a chronic procrastinator with high school assignments. Hopefully you haven't all died a horrible death, and you are still able to read the story eheh…
Funny Cat: Aha… I'm sorry about the sadness, I really am! It's just that… *is drowning in said sea of tears* yeah eheh..
Professional Tsundere: Don't worry about the violence!Also Canada will have super mega awesome role at some point during the story too!
"So you really beat Big Bro in a battle? That's awesome mate!" The boy's green eyes shone as he looked up at the bespectacled young man.
"Yeah! I'm the hero, there's no way I could have lost!" the man laughed heartily, "though don't mention it around Iggy, the jerky limey gets real upset."
The boy frowned, his large eyebrows furrowed,
"But why did you fight him?" he asked.
"For my freedom, I wanted to become independent, but he wouldn't let me. So I fought for my freedom and won! You should try it sometime!" He laughed again, though it seemed a little forced.
"America, do you hate England now?" America stopped laughing and looked down at the boy.
"No, he's like my brother too," he smiled, "I just wanted to live my own life."
Australia was uncharacteristically silent on the trip home. He stared absentmindedly at the sea, his green eyes thoughtful.
"Did you enjoy your time with Alfred?" Australia nodded.
England spared a glance at the young colony. He hoped America hadn't offended him, or said anything about… that.
"Do you want to come up here and help me steer the ship," England asked.
Australia looked up at him and smiled a little,
"'kay,"
Australia joined England and placed his small hands on the wheel of the ship. The sea breeze ruffled his hair, and England smiled, thinking about his old life as a pirate.
"Who are the people down below?"
England hesitated,
"They are bad people, they have committed crimes against the queen," he said eventually.
Australia nodded and returned his attention to the sea. England sighed, he knew he shouldn't have taken Australia with him to meet America.
"What did Alfred tell you?" England pressed.
"He said not to talk about it…" Australia responded, "he said it would make you sad."
England shook his head, the stupid git had told Australia about the war, against England's strict instructions. He hoped his young colony wouldn't go down the same path as America, he wasn't sure if he could handle that pain a second time.
"Big bro… when Ame… when Alfred left, did you cry?" Australia's voice sounded small and nervous, so unlike his usual cheerful tone.
"Yes, I-I cried..." replied England eventually, staring pointedly at the waves.
"Then I won't leave you, 'cuz mates don't make mates cry unless they're crying tears of joy" Australia balled his hands into fists and grinned, "and we're mates."
England smiled tiredly and placed a hand upon Australia's head. The younger colony squirmed a little and darted away, turning only to poke his tongue out at England, before scrambling up the mast into the crow's nest.
###########
I need to speak to someone…
Feliciano blinked, the voice, which had been silent for a while now, was back.
It's important, hurry and get up, idiot.
Feliciano yawned and dragged himself into a sitting position. He glanced at Alfred, who was staring blankly at nothing. Kiku was leaning against a tree, using his good arm to draw circles in the dust.
"Are Christian and Arthur back yet?" asked Feliciano.
"No, neither asa-san or Christian have come back," said Kiku, not removing his gaze from the ground.
Dammit, don't get distracted, I need to talk to someone.
Feliciano yawned again.
'Then talk to them, you can talk to me right?'
It's not that simple idiot. I don't know why I can talk to you, but this person is close to one of your comrades.
'That doesn't make sense at all. Maybe you're just in a bad mood, when I'm in a bad mood, I eat pasta. Maybe you should try to eat pasta and cheer up!'
If the voice had had hands, Feliciano got the feeling it would have hit him.
Idiot, you're life is at stake and all you can think about is pasta? Feh, I don't have time for this, walk over to the glasses one, Alf…
The voice paused,
It doesn't feel right calling him that… no matter, I need you to be close to Alfred.
Feliciano blinked again, the voice could be so confusing and trivial sometimes. He crawled over to Alfred and poked him.
"Veh~ I'm hungry," he complained, still poking Alfred.
"Dude, me too! I haven't had a burger in ages. When this is ove…" Alfred paused and shivered although something cold had passed through him, "When this is over, we'll go eat burgers like crazy!"
"Veh~ I'd like that!" exclaimed Feliciano happily, "but I'd like it better if we had pasta instead!"
Alfred laughed and rubbed his head. What was that feeling just now? He brushed it off and grinned heartily.
'voice are you still there?' there was no response. Feliciano frowned, 'voice?'
Feliciano shrugged and turned his attention back to Alfred, who was ecstatically explaining a plan to introduce burgers to his districts when the games where over.
#################
The voice struggled through the mind of Alfred. Through all his pain and memories, his history and childhood. Finally it found what it was looking for, a connection to the world outside the games. It knew it had to hurry, it didn't have much time outside the mind of Italy. Suddenly the memories changed, the voices that ran through this person's mind where quieter, though the memories where still as dark.
Oi, bastardo, can you hear me?
Matthew Williams stiffened as he heard the voice in his mind. He was sure he was getting close to district four now, maybe the long trip had just exhausted him. He ran a hand through his grimy hair. That must be it, he was just tired.
Answer me, this is important!
Matthew stopped and looked around. He had defiantly heard something this time, it wasn't his imagination.
"W-who's there?" he asked timidly.
Me. Now, what can you tell me about district thirteen.
"Why would you want to know about that"
I'm asking the questions, you'd better start answering them.
Matthew swallowed nervously.
"I-it was said to be destroyed after the second rebellion and the capture of Katniss Everdeen," he managed, and after a moment's pause, he added, "but I'm not sure that's completely true, I've heard rumours about it having bunkers hidden deep underground."
The voice was silent for a while, and when Matthew heard it again, it sounded tired, although talking was a terrible strain.
Listen, I need you to go to district thirteen, or at least what's left of it. If you can find… others, bring them, you're going to need as much help as possible.
Matthew blinked, "Help for what?"
Help to end the reign of Panem.
The voice fell silent, and Matthew knew it had gone, he could feel it. It was although someone had removed a cold hand from his shoulder. He glanced around, and shifted his weight nervously. He needed to keep moving, if he got caught escaping from his district, he wasn't sure if he would survive the punishment. He needed to get to district four and find Francis, but what then? Matthew wasn't sure whether he should follow the advice of the voice, after all, usually hearing and obeying voices in one's head was a sign of insanity. Still, even if he did get to Francis, he had made no further plans, and the voice had seemed dead serious. He sighed and began walking, trying to focus on the matter at hand.
The forest began to thin out, and Matthew caught his breath. The ocean may not have been what it once was, but it had been so, so long since he had seen it last. The sea breeze ruffled his hair, and Matthew looked upon the sea mournfully. The water was dull, and the beaches where dark. In the distance, Matthew saw buildings. There was a man sitting alone outside the fence of the district. He was holding a net in one hand, and was staring at the water. His clothes where filthy, and his matted blonde hair fell about his shoulders in an ungainly mess.
Matthew took a few steps towards the man, his hand trembling a little.
"Papa Francis?"
The man jumped and looked around, startled. When his gaze fell upon Matthew, his eyes widened.
"Mathieu!" he cried, he threw down his net and ran to Matthew, pulling him into a hug, "you're alive! My Mathieu is alive!"
Tears leaked from the French-man's eyes as he pulled away from the hug and looked Matthew up and down.
"Francis, Y-you look so different…" said Matthew sadly.
Francis grimaced and flicked his hair back, "the same could be said for you. Life in the districts has not been kind for us mon ami."
Matthew felt his head spin, and he took a few dizzy steps back.
"Mathieu! Where are my manners! You are exhausted, sit, sit! I will prepare fish!" Francis made to leave, but Matthew stopped him.
"N-no, we don't have time. We need to get to district thirteen at once," he gasped.
Francis stared at him wide-eyed for a moment,
"District thirteen? But Mathieu, what business would you have there?" he asked.
"We just need to go. Trust me, eh!" Matthew exclaimed, blinking away another dizzy spell.
"But it's so far! Surely you realise we cannot walk there!"
Matthew looked over at the district. He could just see the train tracks that the peacekeepers and tributes used to move between districts and the capitol.
"Maybe we won't need to walk," Francis followed his line of sight, and blinked in realisation.
"Surely you don't intend for us to be stowaways do you?" he asked slyly.
"Yes papa Francis, that is exactly what I intend."
Francis smiled, the spark that had been missing for years had returned to his eyes.
"Then we'd best change out of these tacky clothes, we cannot ride a train dressed like this, they'll catch us at once!" Francis twirled, and winked at Matthew, "let us collect some peacekeeper uniforms then, mon ami. "
WT: Aha! Spain read my story, I'll give you tomatoes!
S: okay! *reads*
WT: well?
S:…. Fusosososososo!
WT: W-what are you doing?
S: Casting a cheering charm on myself in the story, I'm too depressing! Fusosososo!
WT:….well then…. Fusososososo!