Chapter Nine: Cliff-Hangers, Prussia, fuck-buddies, Oh my!
-
Greece looked over the sea and cursed silently. There, to the east of his country, was that bastard's nation. The Sea of Crete and the Aegean Sea were the only things separating them, but even so, Heracles still felt his skin crawl. Sure, it had been centuries since the Ottoman Turks had concurred Greece, but the hate for Sadiq burned brightly in his chest. Not to mention during WWII when that Turkish bastard tried to concur him again. The island of Cyprus will never the same.
What bothered Heracles the most about that guy was that he never takes off his turban and mask. It was like he was hiding something more then battle scars, but his eyes, his smile, his face. Who in the world had no dignity left that they'd have to hide their face so much? Greece only knew of two people. 1. Bucky McBadbat from the American cartoon The Fairly Oddparents. 2. Sadiq
Heracles shivered in the slight ocean breeze and tugged on his jacket for more protection. It wasn't the same jacket he got when he was little, but every time he needed a new one, he got the most similar one he could find. He hadn't seen the man since then.
"Morning, Greece!"
Heracles turned to see the bastard mentioned just three enter spaces ago. "Get off of my land, Sadiq." The Greek glared.
The Turkish man, who was wearing the half mask, smiled, "Silly Greece, I'm not on your land, merely in a canoe, sailin' past your shores."
Heracles muttered a curse. Loop-holes were so dammed sometimes. They are defiantly the thing that makes people hate lawyers. The two stared at each other, with the shot distance of salty water between them.
"Okay," Turkey said, "See ya later."
"Wait!" The word fell out of Heracles' mouth. He stuttered and turned his head away to hide his blush.
"What, Heracles?" Greece shivered at the way Turkey said his human name.
"Um- I was just wondering why you always seem to wear your traditional clothing." Sure, it was a lame excuse, but Heracles didn't plan on stopping Sadiq and thus, did not have a better reason.
Greece saw Sadiq's pearly-white smile from the corner of his eyes. "Ya would have to come to my place if ya would like to know the answer."
"Bastard," Greece shouted, "I'm not going to your damned country again! I don't need another war between us! If we are going anywhere together, then we are going to my house."
"Your house it is," Turkey smiled, "Let's go!"
"What?"
"Ya did just invite me to your house," Turkey smiled. The Taller man jumped off his canoe and landed most gracefully on the shore. He strolled by the flabbergasted nation. "Aren't ya coming, it is your house."
Greece cursed once more under his breath for his unfair misfortune. He turned around and fallowed Sadiq to his house. Turkey painstakingly looked at the house when they arrived. It was still the same as it was when Heracles' mother, Athena, was still alive. Turkey had been good friend with Athena. She had died with Gulpa's mother (Egypt) after they broke away from the Roman Empire.
Heracles sighed before inserting the key into the door and opening it. They walked into the old house and sat in the living room. The interior was defiantly more modern then the outside of the house, Turkey noticed. There was a T.V. a coffee table, lights, book shelves, and other modern stuff that surprising fit well in the old house.
"Let's get down to business," Sadiq said.
He stated to take off his clothing when Greece shouted, "What the hell are you doing!?"
The Turk smiled. Greece always over reacted first, which is why he caved first too. "Well I have to remove my clothing so you can see my face."
"…Fine."
The Turkish bastard continued to undress. Heracles looked away and bit his lip. Sadiq moved closer to the younger nation. He laughed inwardly when Greece flushed a deep shade of red when the younger nation looked at him.
"Y-you're that one guy," Greece stammered. "Bastard!"
"What?!"
Heracles moved backwards, an aghast look on his face. He reached to the bookshelves and grabbed a couple books and chucked them at Sadiq. Turkey blocked the hard-cover books with is arms and shouted at Heracles to stop. Greece continued to throw the books at Turkey. By now, they were both shouting at each other with curse words of multiple languages. Sadiq moved closer to Turkey and grabbed the younger boy's wrists.
"Damn it!" Heracles shouted. Sadiq looked at his counterpart and noticed that Greece was crying. "I hate you, bastard!" Heracles continued to say, "You've me dangling by string for years, haven't you? Ever since you concurred me! God, why did it have to be you? I've been wearing jackets similar to what you gave me since then!"
Turkey smiled, so the brat did remember that time in Russia. It had been so long ago, that Sadiq was barely remembering it. He could still hear Greece mutter: "Why, why oh why?"
"Herc," Sadiq said, "Why did you keep wearing those jean jackets?"
Silence.
"Heracles~" Turkey moved closer to the boy. He whispered into the cat-lover's ear, "Do ya like me?" Turkey grinned when he saw Heracles' ears turned red.
-
Colorado walked off the airplane. She absolutely hated the state that she flown too. Sure, she was here to confess, but for now, she would be cursing the heavens until she got to the jerk's house. Amber was lost in thought as she made her way to the "pick-up" place. Her name being called out to her was what brought her back to reality.
"Amber!"
Amber turned and saw one of her siblings. She smiled and ran over to the boy, "Nutmeg!"
"Colorful!"
They glared at each other then hugged. Clyde Provisions or Clyde Nutmeg for both was his nickname, was the proud state of Connecticut. He was older the Amber, had more experience in war, had totally different geography and climate, but they were best friends none the less.
"So why are you in Massachusetts?" Clyde asked. "I thought you guys weren't on speaking terms!"
"Well, boss is confessing to England," Amber smiled sadistically, "If he can then so can I."
Clyde's smile was still in place, but his eyes seemed to be stirred by the news, "Really? Cool."
"Yeah," Colorado sighed, "A bastard who stole half a heart. And you know what? Now that I'm here, I guess it doesn't matter if I get rejected or not. One half of me will hate him and the other half will just have to learn. And vis-versa, you know? Wish me luck!"
Amber skipped away, leaving Clyde there still a bit confused, but not on the subject that you were thinking of. The chestnut-haired boy sighed and sat down on one of the airport benches. "Which one should I hope for Amber? Either you'll love him half-heartedly or hate his guts fully. And either way, I'll still have a crush on you."
-
Prussia gazed into the mist. Was this heaven or a cleaner version of hell? If either one, where were the dead and dying? Everyone knows that if you die, then someone, probably way across the world, is going to die close to your death. The place gave you a nostalgic feeling, almost as if the whole place was a bitter-sweet fairytale. The feeling made Gilbert almost want to puke. He stood up and looked around. The albino felt a cool breeze brush past, but dismissed the thought of anything… displeasing.
So we meet again, Gil…
"What?" Prussia turned around, but nothing was there except the eerie mist that surrounded him. No one was there… but then, who was talking to him? The voice in the mist sounded like a girl's voice. Someone he knew owned that voice. Someone who wasn't a country… Someone who Gilbert had seen before…
Gilbert Beilschmidt, about four hundred, twenty five years old when the Nation of Prussia fell…
"Hello?" Prussia called out, "Don't be a coward! Show yourself!"
Your motto was 'suum cuique' or 'To each his own.'
"Yeah, I know!" Gilbert shouted, "I am the awesome nation that you keep referring to!"
When your nation fell you didn't go with it. I remember that you pleaded, with tears in your eyes for you to finish you mission: To sleep with Roderich Edelstein.
"Shut up!" Gilbert shouted angrily.
"Well Gilbert," The man froze as he felt the most eerie presences enter the space. He had felt this presence before and by everything that was holy, she wasn't. "You got what you wanted, right?"
He turned and saw Silvia Gefallen. Silvia was… a Grim Reaper, a Death God, a Shinigami, the Devil, Hades, an angel, just every man known thing to come to the deathbed. Her appearance always changed and every different person saw something else. Some might see the feared Greek God of death while others would see an angel sent down to Earth to bring the lucky bastard to heaven. Her true form is always changing along with the world. You never know who she is until she's at your door, coming to reap your soul, invisible and silently.
Silvia was the spooky girl that appeared in front of every falling or fallen nation, no matter what their religion. She wore a sleeveless, knee-long, white dress with a red belt resting on her waist. The bottom of her dress was tattered and blood-stained. Her hair was black, like the suffering hole that swallows the hopes of man-kind. It was braided into multiple long twists and the ends were tied with blue ribbons. Her smile wore fangs on all of her teeth. The smile was elaborated with blue lipstick that matched her hair ribbons. Her eyes were, surprisingly, a normal brown color. The three piercings she owned were silver and vaguely seen above her eyebrows.
"So, you finished you mission?" Silvia asked with a smile a bit too sadistically. Her voice was like a cloud or like "Luna Lovegood's" from Harry Potter.
Gilbert sighed, "Yeah and my leaving is probably going to throw Austria into suicide."
Silvia made a laugh that could crack through windows and give comfort to a new-born child, "But isn't that too cliché for your liking? I know that you aren't a Romeo-type."
"So what's the point of you talking to me?" Prussia asked, "I mean, I know I'm awesome, but you have better reasons to come and talk to me other then just to say hello."
"So cruel," Silvia smiled, "But you are indeed right. I can grant you a passage to Earth." Silvia started to paint her fingernails a dark shade of purple. "If you give me a good enough reason, then I'll let you go back to Earth. You can decide the next time you 'die,' too. You'll live freely and you can love your dear Roderich."
"And if I don't give you a good reason?"
"You'll stay here forever while I convince the messenger of love to make Roderich fall in love with someone else. And you will never get in contact with your love again," Silvia laughed, "So, Gilbert, what will it be?"
_
Author: Yes, I know this was full of cliff-hangers, but you know what? That's what people get when their fan fiction writer reads really good fan fiction instead of writing her own. Sorry for not updating sooner.