Kay, so this chap is still a bit angsty and very historic. I think I might've made Al a bit ooc…I just don't want to make him a total idiot all the time
William does NOT belong to me. He is the sole property of the amazing Blurple Mage on Deviantart. Check out her stuff, she's an awesome artist and her work is hysterical…I coudln't have designed a better Confederate America myself. :D
And I don't mean to offend anyone with anything written in here…it's just a story…
Songs (wrote with them in this order)-
'Not As We' by Alanis Morissette
'Bowl of Oranges' by Bright Eyes
'If Winter Ends' by Bright Eyes
'Speaking a Dead Language' by Joy Williams
Yeeaaahhh…same band twice…whatever. And if you haven't noticed, I love unfitting music for when I'm writing. XD
"Alfred. I refuse to take your frivolous, idealist dreaming anymore…" he said, turning on his heal and putting his head against the wall. His brown hair shucked up, caught in the grain of the wood.
"Will, I…I didn't intend to put you under the assumption that I would force you to the abolition…"
"Really?" the brunette said skeptically. Alfred understood nothing about the South. He didn't understand the necessity of slavery to continue their agricultural lifestyle. They might be the same person, practically identical, but Alfred understood nothing about William. How could they be so different when they were supposed to be two parts of a whole? If they wanted to continue sharing this land, calling themselves one country, they would have to work in harmony. …It wasn't happening so far.
"I will not try and force you…but…I believe you know where I stand when it comes to the moral ramifications of-"
"Oh, save it, Al. I have already heard your 'I am the final and ultimate good, so my morals are undoubtedly and wholly right, therefore I will run the country and you feed it' speech." He took a deep breath after producing such a long title for Alfred's pleading. "I have already recognized that the North is more enlightened and industrialized than me, but-"
"Will…I didn't mean…" the North representative began, looking taken aback.
Will cut him off, "But you did…and you do. I do not care if you control the political centers of the country. I hardly even mind that my people produce eighty percent of the produce that feeds our nation. What I hate is that you pretend that I am the bad guy. You are no better yourself," he spat, jabbing a finger into Alfred's chest. "I cannot abolish slavery."
"I never asked you to," Al said desperately. Will had been threatening to succeed the union ever since he'd had that meeting with South Carolina. And, Alfred had this horrible feeling in his gut that he was unwittingly driving him away himself. Nevertheless, he had to say something. His fear of losing his brother and splitting America was far worse than his hatred of slavery. If their country split it would destroy everything he'd fought for in the revolutionary war. It would destroy people's faith in democracy. If ancient Greece and Rome could make it work…he had to as well. But, if Will was going to point fingers, he was going to fight back. He continued, "But…I wish that you would let it fade… Many of your people believe it's wrong…"
"I can't do that!" William snapped, slamming his hand down on the carved brown table. Alfred winced at the sudden shouting. They were meeting in the capital, they shared a home there.
They had already digressed from the real point of the meeting back to their normal bickering.
William had come to inform Alfred that one of his forts near Charleston was running low on supplies. However, it wasn't a simple matter. The fort was in South Carolina…a state that had all but succeeded already. She was itching to cut herself from Alfred…she hated him, her loyalties to William alone. And, while Sumter was still faithful to the Union, they were an island in that nature. If Alfred sent supplies, than he would be openly supporting one side and it might be taken as a war-act. But it wasn't like he could just abandon the fort or it would be the same as abandoning the hope that, one day, South Carolina would be faithful to the union again.
Al swallowed roughly and ran his hands across the back of his neck to ease his stress. He hesitated, "…Alright. Will you deliver this to them?" He turned his back and moved to the back of his room where he kept a store closet of food, medical supplies, and jugs of clean water.
There were weapons stacked against the back wall of the storehouse, lined up on wooden racks in the straw. Alfred glanced at them and shook his head. The ship might be attacked if the confederates thought he was supplying their enemy. Or what if the ship was taken and looted? He wouldn't arm the confederates…
He emerged with a massive armful of supplies; a ship-full on his own. Will stepped forward to accept the kindness before his men starved, but he hesitated. South Carolina was speaking in his head. 'If we take his supplies…nothing will ever change. He will never recognize our ideology. If you take those supplies…you are submitting to him…just like always. We are stronger than he credits us for. We could survive on our own, but he? He would starve without us…' William dropped his hand, making up his mind.
"I don't want it."
"What?"
"I will not run your errands," William said coldly. "Nor will I allow you to take it yourself."
Alfred stepped back, eyes wide. That fort was supposed to symbolize their union; the union between the north and the south. If he wanted Alfred to abandon it; just hand it over to the confederates…It had gotten to that point…
"Just…please let them have the supplies?" Alfred implored. At this point, he didn't even care if he lost the fort to the confederacy. He just wanted Will to take the food to his troops…their troops…
William smacked the armful across the room. Water jugs crashed into the walls, splashing their contents across the floor; jars of preserved meats and fruits cracked on the floor. Alfred's hands hung suspended in the air where they had just been. Water gushed past their feet. A drop of blood dripped down from his forearm from a fresh cut where Will's nails had sliced his skin. It would leave a small scar. Alfred was in shock. He had been attacked…
Somewhere in the south, a ship went down in flames, people screaming and jumping over the sides…many sailors killed, unable to escape in time. The south had turned against him.
"Do you realize what you've done?" Alfred asked gravely.
"Unfortunately…" William replied. It wasn't like this decision made him happy. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. But, he couldn't sit back and take it anymore.
Alfred bit his lip. He knew that other countries had two representatives like he did…Italy had two. But, had they ever waged war? He knew that other countries had civil wars as well. But, those were always a mix between civil war and revolutionary. Their government was always fighting with itself to change, but here...they were fighting to stay the same.
What would happen to him if William succeeded? Would they just become separate countries…just like that?
And what if he won? What would happen to William?
He would be forgotten…
Maybe not erased from history, but he would be stripped of his position. As long as people still knew his story, he would remain, but he could no longer be a country.
"…Why…?" Alfred managed finally. His eyes had gone blurry. Not from tears…his vision had become clear again and Texas was blurring his vision. He took the state off and set it down on the table.
William rubbed his head tiredly. He took Texas off the table and slipped the glasses on. "Because…I don't want to do this with you anymore. I'll be better off alone."
"Will, we-"
"No, Al! Not we. The South ain't big enough for both of us! And I ain't lettin' you have it anymore!" With that, he slammed the door behind him.
Alfred opened it again and ran out onto the front yard. But, William was gone. His decision still held heavy in the air like his ghost was haunting his other half. Alfred clutched at his chest. It felt like the bones of his ribcage were bending under his skin, trying to open outwards. Alfred ran forward.
"Will? William! Will, come back!"
"Alfred…America…Al…Al, wake up damnit!"
Alfred's eyes flashed open and he jerked up to a sitting position. "Wha?" he groaned, glasses askew.
"Who's William?"
"Ah…" his eyes focused. Alfred looked up. His personal doctor was leaning over him, staring at him suspiciously. It was the same man from the jet they'd taken home. America frowned. Of course a regular human wouldn't remember Will…
It was time to put on the mask again…
"Why are you sleeping on the floor?" Dr. Burns demanded.
Alfred glanced around himself. He hadn't even noticed yet. His phone was skidded on the floor just a few inches from where his hand had just been. "Oh…I called you over didn't I?" he said, letting the wires connect in his brain. "Guess I couldn't make it to put the phone up…heh…" he laughed awkwardly.
"Why did I need to fly out from Washington on such short notice?" Dr. Burns demanded, holding out a hand to help his nation stand up. He had just gotten home when he received the call. He loved his country and all, but sometimes America pissed him off. "Did you become narcoleptic?" he said sarcastically.
"No…what'd's that even mean? No, I've got someone I need your help with…" Alfred replied. He should in a much better mood after getting some sleep…even if it was just because he'd passed out on the floor. But, if he was going to flash back to such things…maybe sleep was the enemy.
"What're you gettin on about now?" Burns demanded.
Alfred's brain blanched. Oh yeah…Ivan. "I need help takin care of the sick commie... Um…I figured that you already knew from the plane, so you're the only guy I would trust. I don't really want everyone knowing I'm takin care of him, y'know? I've got no clue what to do. I figured I'd go out and buy him some antiviral medication today, but…it's been so long since I was sick and I didn't pay any attention when you guys were taking care of me…"
"You're asking me to babysit?" Burns said dryly. He'd sort of figured that Alfred was calling about the Russian, so he'd come prepared anyway. He'd brought the antiviral medication.
Alfred closed his eyes. "I'm asking for advice. I've got no clue what I'm doing…I just know what it feels like on the other end…but apparently he doesn't get hungry after he pukes like I always did…"
Dr. Burns face-palmed for the hundredth time since working for his nation. "Alfred, you idiot… I've got the medication, but I'll write a list of things you need to go buy. I'm sure you don't have any decent food…"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, Alfred," he replied dismissively. "Mr. Russia might not be able to hold down normal food. So, you'll only want to give him crackers and clear soda until he can hold it down. I'll write up what you can feed him after that."
"God, the flu sounds like hell…" Alfred muttered. "You guys let me eat pretty much anything when I was sick…granted there wasn't much food to eat…but, I mean…they gave me moldy bread…"
"Well, not that I was there to know, but I suspect that there wasn't any other food to eat…so…" Dr. Burns droned. He hadn't been alive during the depression. But, Alfred talked about it all the time, so he knew more than he needed to.
Alfred nodded. "I'll go check on the big lump and go out to get this shit." He waved the grocery list beind him as he walked.
Burns nodded and went past Alfred to the kitchen to write the American a list of do's and don'ts. He tapped his chin idly with the back of the pencil while he thought of anything he might've missed.
Alfred knocked quietly at the door before entering his room. "How're ya Ruski?" he said carefully as he took in the scene. Ivan had thrown the sheets off in the humid, sick heat. His catch bucket had been abused pretty badly. The curtains were still pulled back so the room was almost painfully bright. But, Ivan couldn't get up to close them.
Alfred stepped in, meeting one of the coldest glares he'd ever received (and that was saying something). Ivan was flipped over and curled onto his side at the edge of his bed so he only had to crane his neck if he was going to be sick.
"I hate you…so much," he muttered weakly.
Alfred walked in further. He moved to the windows and closed the curtains. The room dipped into a serene, low light. "Did you get any sleep?" Alfred asked, concerned.
Ivan didn't speak.
"How many times did you…?"
"Three…mostly dry heaving…" Ivan said coldly. "Vhere vere you?"
"Ah…um…"
"He passed out in the hallway floor," a third voice responded. Dr. Burns walked into the room casually. He carried a large black leather duffle bag in one hand a sheet of paper in the other. "Idiot doesn't know when to admit he's tired."
"Da…he is stupid."
"I am not. It's not my fault you gotcha self sick…damn Ruski…" Alfred muttered dryly. If it weren't for taking care of Ivan, he would've been in his bed by midnight. Even that would've been less than he needed, but it would be more than he'd gotten. Instead, he was letting Ivan take his bed and sick up his house.
"Yet I am here. And you refuse to take me to my home," Ivan pointed out coldly. His voice scratched in his throat.
"Ah, you know why I can't do that," Alfred snapped. "You wouldn't accept my help even if I offered to take you home. You won't even let me carry you up the stairs. You wouldn't be here if you weren't so damn weak."
"I am not weak," Ivan snapped. "I don't vant to talk to you. I vant you to leave this room." Ivan was speaking politically compared to what he wanted to say.
"Then why doncha stand up and make me!" Alfred said, raising a fist and stepping forward.
Dr. Burns grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Alfred turned, not really phased, just confused. "Alfred, here's a list of groceries you'll need. Ivan should be better in about a week. Just follow these instructions," he said calmly, handing him the list he'd made.
Alfred stared at him and pulled his arm away easily. "You coulda just said something. I wasn't gonna hit him…"
"Then why did you make like you were going to?" Burns demanded.
Ivan shook his head slowly. "It is like you do not even know him…"
Alfred nodded, smiling. By now, Ivan would know that he only went though with sixty-percent of his threats. Alfred waved the shopping list, "Guess I'll be back in a bit," he said brightly.
Ivan buried his face deeper into the mattress. "Cлабоумный…" he muttered.
Alfred ignored the familiar phrase and dashed from the room. The nearest town was through fourteen miles of country. It would take half an hour just to get there. He hopped in his Civic and peeled out of the driveway.
Ivan rolled over. Alfred's doctor was standing over him, scrutinizing. "So…are you feeling any better?" he asked.
Ivan shook his head. "I am okay."
Burns leaned forward and popped a thermometer into the Russian's mouth. Ivan gave little struggle. He might hate Alfred, but some Americans were bearable. He let the doctor take his temperature and watched while the aging man took some notes on a clipboard.
Alfred clicked his tongue to some unknown rhythm while he stood in line at the grocery store. The grocery list wasn't very long. He already had popsicles in the house, and there was bread for burgers that he could use to make turkey sandwiches. He just bought some V8, Campbell's chicken noodle soup, green tea, and Breakfast Essentials milk supplement.
He chatted for a few minutes with the teenager at the register. It was a small town with little old buildings made of brick and only a few major stores. There was virtually no traffic on a good day. On bad days, the place could be packed with passing traffic from the nearest city just down the highway.
As he was driving back home, Alfred got distracted. The town had gotten an Edward McKay's… They always carried those books that Kiku was so obsessed with. He wasn't crazy about reading, but it wasn't crowded, so he decided to stop.
As he walked in, there were superhero posters hanging up on the walls, comic books, videogames, dvds, cds, everything. He roamed around for a few minutes. The smell of old books always made Alfred crave coffee. The manga section was in the very middle of the store. He spent a good half hour sitting on the floor reading MARVEL and looking through the mangas for Kuroshitsuji. Kiku had insisted he read it. But, it wasn't here, so he gathered the pile of books he wanted and began walking to the register.
His eye got caught again by a thick book with an American flag across the cover. "The Metaphysical Club…" he read aloud to himself. "By Louis Menand…" He flipped open to the preface and read the first sentence, slamming the book back down. "No…not today…" he muttered.
He made his way to the register, reading the little quotes that the employees had written on a large dry-erase board hung up on the back wall. There was a huge golden bust of James Brown sitting on a filing cabinet and a crude drawing of the Vault Boy from Fallout 3. On the walls were vintage posters from WWII. Alfred grinned. He loved this store.
When he got up to the register, a skinny girl with big, frizzy hair rang him up. He idly tapped on the counter while she did, looking around. There were little clear plastic tubes of colorful candies. He picked one up; chocolate covered sunflower seeds. "These too…" he said, tossing it into the pile of things he was buying.
Ivan was finally asleep when Alfred walked in the door. Dr. Burns had hung blackout curtains on the windows to block out the sun. He'd given the Russian some painkiller and antiviral pills that had felt like spiked-lead going down his sore, inflamed throat. Burns had forced him to open his mouth after swallowing them to make sure he'd really put them down. The doctor had left afterwards, leaving post-it notes all over Alfred's kitchen.
Al set down the groceries on the kitchen counter and peeled a note off his freezer.
Al- Give Russia a Popsicle when he wakes up. His throat hurts. Don't be an asswipe.
~Robert Burns
The American tore up the note and tossed the pieces into the trash. He rifled through the shopping bags and brought out the plastic canister of sunflower candies, attaching a post-it note to tell Ivan where he'd gone. Next, he grabbed a little lunch cooler and poured two cups of ice into it. He tucked the box of Popsicles inside and zipped it back up.
He crept into his bedroom, knowing he could make as much noise as he wanted and Ivan wouldn't be bothered, but still being quiet out of instinct. He set the candies on the bedside table and put the cooler on the floor.
His shuttle was launching on Friday. He would be gone for four days. Ivan could survive on his own here for awhile, and there was no way he'd be strong enough to get himself out.
Alfred took all the phones in the house just in case, including the cellphone from Ivan's raincoat pocket. He couldn't have the Russian calling for help.
He looked over at Ivan, sleeping soundly, curled up into a ball at the side of the bed. Alfred smiled and reached over, moving the sleeping man's limbs so he laid out flat on his back with his head propped up on the plush pillow. He stepped back, satisfied with his work. Al pulled the comforter over him and pushed his hair back to feel his temperature before leaving.
…
Ivan woke with an aching throat, but at least most of the nausea was gone…
"Amerika?" he called, expecting that Alfred would be in the next room over. There was no response. Ivan sat up, reaching under his scarf and rubbing his neck. He glanced over at the clock. It was past noon already. He hated changing time zones. Who knew if his diurnal clock was on or off right now?
He noticed the plastic package of sunflower seeds next to the clock. He reached out and took it, peeling off the post-it note.
Commie,
Eat a Popsicle when you wake up. Doctor said you need to drink somethin, but he also said ur throat hurts, and it won't feel like your swallowin if you eat a popsicle and let it melt in ur mouth.
Also, I had to leave. I'll be back Saturday. There's a list of foods you should eat in the kitchen from Burns. Take ur pills and whatever else he toldja 2 do.
B bac in 4 days. If I come home an my house is trashed, I'll fucking kill you.
~love Alfred
"Such hospitality…" Ivan muttered, breaking open the seal and eating a green sunflower seed.
There was something not right about eating unborn baby sunflowers dunked in chocolate, but it couldn't be any worse than eating burgers…much better actually. And the candies were so small he hardly even had to swallow…
Was this Alfred's way of apologizing for leaving him here alone?
Why would he apologize for making Ivan happier?
The Russian shrugged and leaned over the bed. There was a little lunch box. He unzipped it. Inside there was a box with a picture of a superhero dressed in blue with an 'A' written on his head. He was carrying a red, white, and blue shield with a star on it. Ivan ripped open the box and unwrapped one of the frozen sugar sticks.
It was red, white, and blue, so Ivan supposed that it was supposed to be patriotic…but then why was it colored like that French man's flag?
He shrugged and took a bite off the top.
If he didn't get himself better soon, he was going to kill himself. This was torture. America's house smelled like him. The decoration had his personality. Everything about this place was slowly bringing back those selectively repressed memories Ivan had ignored for a century and a half.
…
Alfred had been there…for a long time. Most of Ivan's life. Ivan wasn't as old as a lot of people credited him for. His land had had a different representative during the time of Vikings when it was still called Novgorod. Ivan had been created in 1547 when Ivan the Terrible became the first Russian tsar and united the dukedoms that had been the governing forces of the land.
Alfred was a different story. His creation was bloody as well, but a bit less sure. He knew that there had been another Native America representative before him, and Alfred had lived with him for a period, but he didn't want to think of how Alfred had replaced him.
The two countries had remained separated by the ocean for the longest time. They never even spoke until 1799, when the Russian-American Company was chartered. Alfred and Ivan began sharing parts of the far north American continent.
Then France had invaded. Ivan burned his own capital rather than let Napoleon take it. He'd been waging wars with the Ottoman Empire, Persia, Poland, and practically every other country it seemed. Luckily, the French army was weak in the face of Ivan's winter climates.
Meanwhile, things had finally exploded between Alfred and Arthur. England attacked America's capital, burning many government buildings. Ivan heard a story about Alfred's first lady stowing a picture of George Washington in her underwear to keep it safe. He teased Alfred about it every chance he got.
They began trading closely, often sharing bottles of wine to complain about England. Alfred was still on pretty bad terms with his former care-giver. Ivan offered to mediate their dispute. Alfred accepted gratefully, but Arthur wouldn't have it. Russia was far more inclined to agree with America than England on any matter.
Later, France and England joined the Ottoman Empire against Ivan in the Crimean War. When Alfred heard news of it he sailed over to meet with Ivan. He brought hundreds of ships with medical supplies and doctors with him to come to Russia's aid. Arthur was furious that his former colony would become almost allies with one of his enemies.
Almost a decade later, the war was over and Ivan's boss had finally put an end to serfdom in his country. Ivan was overjoyed. His people wouldn' be worked like mules anymore. He sailed to America to tell Alfred. But the news wasn't taken in the best of times. Alfred was engulfed in a heated argument with William, his southern half.
Al and Will were the same person, just under two different spectrums. And right now, they hated each other…and loved each other. Alfred asked Ivan to stand with him and watch his people die with him. Ivan had accepted easily, he brought ships to aid the union. Alfred had been there for him during the Crimean War. So, he stood with Alfred and held him at each battle, watching Alfred rip open slowly. He'd cried then more than Ivan ever saw again. He would start mumbling about how democrisy had failed. Ivan would only hold him closer and mumble praise for Alfred's government, promising it would never fail him.
The Civil war ended on a bleak note. William had become Confederate America rather than Southern America. There had been only one way to end the war. Alfred had stabbed through William with a bayonet. Both halves had fallen to the ground. William faded. Alfred gained a second half…and a scar.
When he woke, he pulled up his shirt and found the Mason Dixon line marked all the way around his midsection. Confederate America had merged into the union. Will would be back the next day, but he would never be a landmass…he would never be a country.
In 1867, Alfred finally bought Russian-America from Ivan and Matthew. He named it Alaska. Most of Alfred's government was against the transaction. It wasn't beneficial to America. But, it helped Russia's financial situation at the time.
Alfred had come and visited often. He would stay in Alaska and cross over the Bering Strait. Ivan would wait on the other side and they would share spirits and tell stories. Ivan was often at war with the Ottoman Empire and Japan, and Alfred was fighting with Antonio now. They shared war stories and cleaned each other's wounds. Alfred gained interest in Russian literature and Ivan would bring over his tsars and go hunting in America's midwest.
Alfred told Ivan everything. It was evident that America wanted more than anything to fly. He told Ivan specifically several times of some of the fascinating experiments his people were doing and the stories he'd heard about France's balloons. Ivan shared some of his research about psychology and physics. Their relationship was questionable during this time. Who knew what they were…friends, allies, what? They hardly knew themselves.
But, Ivan's government was failing. His people were crying out against the tsars, and there was widespread famine. Alfred rushed to his aid, bringing humanitarian groups with food and supplies. Ivan increased immigration to America to ease some of the poverty. The two stayed together many nights for lack of having anywhere else to go.
Meanwhile, in North Carolina, on the windy beaches of Kitty Hawk, America had finally done it. A glider-type aircraft with an actual motor had been airborne for almost a minute. They had…flown.
Alfred looked on the verge of pissing himself with excitement as he broke down Ivan's front door. The Russian had been reading serenely in his living room when the American had dashed in, leaped into his lap, and kissed him full on the lips. Needless to say, Ivan didn't finish that book that night.
They didn't have much time to celebrate the achievement though. Anti-Semitism suddenly began spreading throughout Russia, and Ivan found himself in Isreal's house, ramming the smaller country into a wall by the neck. Alfred intervened. He agreed to allow Russia to send even more Jewish immigrants to the states if his people were going to harass them.
Things in Russia finally snapped. Over a thousand peaceful demonstrators were gunned down by the imperial guard. The tsar system had failed its people. Tsar Nicholas II abdicated his throne on March 15, 1917.
Ivan was in the heat of a revolution when Europe started falling to pieces. He never thought he would be allied to France and England of all people. It had taken awhile to finally suck America into the war, but his resources inevitably pulled him in finally. The two were allies in both World Wars.
It wasn't until the end of the Second World War that things really went sour. Alfred had gained nuclear capabilities. Ivan's boss, Stalin, had turned Russia against America, taking Ivan down into it. Alfred was just trying to stop communism from spreading. Ivan was just trying to protect what he thought was his. Alfred was getting in the way. Ivan had always supported him and his government. How could Alfred oppose communism if it was the first form of stability Ivan had gotten since the tsars had ended?
Other countries were sucked into it. Wars broke out across eastern Europe and Asia. Alfred controlled West Berlin, and Ivan had the East. When people in the East started trying to cross over to the democratic half, Ivan put up a wall. Protests began all across the Soviet Union. Some wanted democrisy and tried to jump the wall while others began wars to make their own countries Communist as well.
Korea split. Vietnam erupted. America tried to mediate everything even when his own people were against the wars. Ivan watched Alfred closely. The spying began.
They started competing on everything. After Alfred had been the first to split the atom and to go airborne, Ivan had to be the first in space. After Ivan had put up a satellite, Alfred had to put a flag on the moon.
Somehow…they ended up hating each other. And…things had never been 'okay' after that. They hadn't been perfect before, but they got much worse.
…
Ivan licked the last of the juice off the Popsicle stick and laid back again. Now he was alone in Alfred's home. It wasn't like he could just forget all that history. But…it wasn't like he could ignore the present. Why did Alfred ask him to send up his astronauts for him? Was this a second chance or something?
So…yea…this was the longest thing I've ever written.
The Metaphysical Club is this book I'm reading that goes through some of the major historical figures of the Civil war that helped shape the modern American way of thinking. I figured that Al probably wouldn't want to read it after that nightmare.
Too many historical references to actually go through and explain them all…I'm sure I've bored you all into a corner. I'm sorry.
And if you add this story 2 ur subscription or ur favs, be sure to leave a review while ur there. It's much appreciated XD