A couple days after sending out the signal to Tony's ship, America was greeted with a large flaming metal disk hurdling toward his house. He's not as smart as Tony, so he couldn't work out the kinks of the relay device which resulted in the spaceship crash landing in the middle of the forest.
By the time America had reached the crater, Lithuania had managed to climb out of the burning rubble before promptly passing out.
America threw the Baltic over his shoulder and began the walk back to his house. He had to get Lithuania home quickly, not only was everyone there probably worried sick, but Tony most likely wasn't far behind and it would be much simpler to deal with his anger if his passed out "lover" wasn't sleeping in America's house.
When he returned to the house, he walked over to the garage and put Lithuania in the passenger seat of a car, before entering the house to retrieve his wallet.
He walked through the house and entered the living room, finding his wallet sitting on the coffee table. Meanwhile Belarus had her feet crisscrossed next to it as she played a video game.
"Hey, I'm gonna go take Lithuania home. If Tony comes back while I'm gone just ignore him... I'm sure he's royally pissed that I took Lithuania away."
"K," she responded flatly, completely entranced with whatever game she was playing.
"Uhhh, what are you playing anyway?" he asked as he looked to the tv, identifying the familiar rubber hose hero.
"Cuphead," she answered.
"That's cool, but are you sure you should be playing another rage game?" He asked, concerned that he'll come back to the destruction of the tv screen and controller.
She rolled her eyes as she continued playing. "Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm not going to destroy your stuff. Now would you be so kind as to leave already? You're distracting me."
That didn't really do much to reassure him, but he couldn't really do anything to stop it. "Fine, I'll see you in about two days then."
Long after America had driven away, Belarus left the living room to grab his notebook, which she only did after she died one too many times and nearly threw his tv out of the window.
As she reentered the living room and sat on the couch, a brown object from outside the window caught her eye. She glanced over at it, her mouth opening in surprise as she once again encountered the bald eagle.
Remembering the annoying goose chase it led her on last time, she got up and stood behind the glass, mocking and insulting the stupid bird.
During the split second of darkness as she was blinking, the eagle completely vanished. Belarus opened the porch door and looked around in confusion, the eagle nowhere to be found.
She slowly backed into the room again and shut the door, jumping in alarm as she saw the bird in the reflection of the glass. She quickly spun around and froze at the sight of the bird, which was perched on the couch arm and poking the book with its beak.
She sped over and attempted to grab the book, causing the eagle's feathers to fluff up before it let out a loud caw and gashed her hand with its talons.
The bird then hopped down onto the book, preventing Belarus from coming anywhere near it. She found it really odd, why would some random bird protect America's journal? Was this some other pet he neglected to tell her about?
The bird flapped its large wings and flew off through the house, carrying the big book with it. Belarus snapped back to reality and began running after it, following it up the second floor and into America's room, just in time to see it escape outside through the opened balcony door.
Belarus slowed to a halt and let out an agitated sigh. "Dammit, second time this week!" She made her way back downstairs and out the backyard doors, finding the bird speeding off toward the woods.
Belarus ran over and entered the woods after it. For hours the chase continued, leading her deeper and deeper into the massive forest.
She wanted nothing more than to just turn around and go back to the house, but she knew if America's notebook randomly disappeared in a house with only one person, then America would catch her red-handed. And based on the type of personal entries present throughout the book, she bet America would get all pissy about it.
From very far away Belarus could see the bird slow down and enter a strange cone-shaped structure. It was completely covered in hides, except for a hole in the front and ends of sticks protruding from the top.
She briefly glanced around at the strange tent, before bringing her attention to the eagle, which was guarding the entrance.
Belarus neared the eagle, once again looking at the tent now that she was closer. All over it were drawing of fish, stick figures, and some large creature she could only describe as eerily similar to the European bison, an animal she was very fond of.
Right above the opening was three of them, one was large and well-drawn, while two smaller and worse looking ones were drawn below. Almost as if a child drew them.
She ducked her head and walked through the hole, opening up into a small circular room. On each side were two child-sized sleeping mats, and one adult-sized mat in the middle. Past that was a small wooden stand with a bunch of dreamcatchers, feather-covered decorations, and a painted portrait.
The portrait was of three people, a blonde child with a big beaming smile and the familiar ahoge, an identical child but with a long curl, purple eyes, and an anxious half-smile, and in the middle was a pretty, dark-skinned woman hugging the two boys close to her, fitted with the same beaming smile as the first boy.
From what Belarus had read about in the journal, this was most likely America's mother. A truly beautiful woman with deep laugh lines and a smile that was so warm and inviting. It gave off the same motherly feeling Ukraine had when Belarus was young.
She tried reaching out for the portrait, only for the eagle to stop her with a poke to her palm. She angrily shooed it away, kicking at it until it flew out of the tent, then grabbed the door flap and covered the opening.
Without any pesky creatures injuring her anymore, she turned back to the photo and inspected it. On the back she found a date, sometime in the 1100s.
It was strange seeing him as a child so long ago, at a time where he was only a little younger than herself. Especially weird since England constantly mentions how fast he grew.
After blankly staring at the picture for about 10 minutes, she set it down and picked up the notebook, welcoming the Revolutionary War entries.
May 29, 1754
War hasn't officially started, but fighting has begun. Yesterday the British defeated the French in the Ohio Valley, led by a Colonel George Washington.
- Alfred Kirkland
This wasn't the Revolutionary War! Great, now she has to get through the boring stuff before the action.
July 15, 1754
A few days ago the French defeated George Washington and his troops and sent them back out of Ohio. I hope the guy's ok, but I'm still torn on which side to support. The French is allied with more of my people, and they have been nicer to them. But on the other side is Artie.
Artie and some natives... or Francis and a lot more natives?
June 30, 1755
Artie took Acadia, a place up in Mattie's land. I thought this was about the Ohio Valley, my land. I don't want Artie to take his land, Mattie will think I'm doing it and he'll hate me forever!"
Completely unrelated, I've been growing this past year. Not a lot, but I think I'm finally turning 6! Physically I mean.
May 9, 1756
Artie has officially declared war on Francis. They're calling it the "French and Indian War," obviously since they're fighting the French and... well not Indians, but that's what they call us.
September 8, 1760
Francis has fully surrendered Mattie to Arthur, meaning he's now living with me. He's absolutely devastated from being taken away from Francis, so I've been trying to cheer him up by playing hide and seek and stuff. But it's really hard now that I have to read up on my politics... since I'm grown up.
Right now I'm 11, yeah... that happened. I don't know why, but ever since this war started I've been growing just like any other human. It's really scary... what if I keep growing and get old and die. I can't even ask Arthur about it because he's been gone fighting this war.
Since Mattie's my twin I was hoping he grew the same and we could figure it out together, but when I saw him he was still 5! Do you know how weird it is being 6 years older than your older brother?!
February 8, 1763
This bloody war is finally over. All it took was kicking out France, crushing Mattie's spirit and taking over his land, and causing over a million deaths across the world in a series of wars in a global conflict being dubbed "The Seven Years' War."
. . . Besides that I'm doing great. Spain gave up Florida to me, which he told me to, "wield its power wisely *wink wink*" whatever that means. Boston is rapidly becoming a large educational and cultural center, my population is steadily growing, Canada is slightly older due to the war, but still only about 7 to my 14, and best of all Arthur is coming home. First he has to deal with all the paperwork that comes with ending a war, but he should be back in maybe a year.
- Alfred Kirkland
Belarus gritted her teeth as she finished the last paragraph. For some reason it was beginning to aggravate her that America was so quick to forgive England's absence. He has left a child on multiple occasions, for years, only to come back to a delighted America.
America should be furious... his older "brother" has abandoned him time and time again... but he isn't because he's too nice and naive.
Sure, there have been times where Russia was gone for a long time, and Belarus was beyond happy when he returned, but she would still be angry and tell him so.
She angrily flipped the page and continued. As if the book had heard her thoughts, the next few pages were nothing but angry rants over England, mercantilism, something called salutary neglect, and certain laws his nation has imposed on the colonies. What caught her off guard were the eloquent, carefully written and thought-out dissections of every flaw of every Parliamentary act on every aspect of colonial society.
America actually sounded... smart. Not just honest or serious, but actually intelligent. It shouldn't be such a surprise, but after knowing how childish and downright brain dead he could be, it was quite the culture shock to witness an instance where he seemed to know what he was talking about.
That is, until she came across one oddball in the middle of the otherwise captivating passages.
January 29, 1770
Arthur came home today, and holy shit he's so short! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
- Alfred Kirkland
Belarus mentally facepalmed as she turned the page, the mood instantly flipping as her heart dropped. All over the page were smears of some rusty brown substance.
March 5, 1770
Shooting into a crowd of people, are you insane? Do you have even an iota of understanding to what this will cause? People are already upset with you and your shitty redcoats always being in the way, so imagine the resentment they feel now that they have to worry about being shot for throwing snowballs and oyster shells.
I may have been shot but I honestly don't care, it'll heal, but for normal people they either have been or had to witness people be killed at the hands of their "protectors."
They will retaliate, and possibly with violence, and I don't blame them... if I see those giant eyebrows anytime soon I may just have to sock you in the face.
December 17, 1773
So it wasn't violence like I thought it would be, but I like this way better. It's far more badass.
Last night, in retaliation for yet another tax, we decided to show the British what we think of their oh so precious tea... by having a little tea party.
In the middle of the night we began our mission. Myself and a few of The Sons of Liberty disguised ourselves as Native Americans, boarded the British ships, and dumped all the crates and bags of tea into the harbor. 46 tons of it!
The hundreds of spectators cheered, celebrating the beginning of our nice little tea party. If I'm lucky I might catch Arthur and the brits having their tea time in the harbor as well.
June 2, 1774
Of course the Boston Tea Party would bring a lot of attention, that was the point, but I didn't think the British would punish Massachusetts in this way. They completely shut us in with a blockade, took away our representative government, and reinstated that annoying Quartering Act.
These are oppressive, unfair, vile, absolutely intolerable acts... Eng- Arthur is seriously beginning to wear my patience thin.
September 4, 1774
Tomorrow I'll be meeting with some of the greatest minds in all of the colonies for the Constitutional Congress.
From Virginia: George Washington, Peyton Randolph, and Patrick Henry. From Massachusetts Bay: John, Samuel Adams, and myself of course.
12 colonies, 56 delegates, all coming together to try to figure out what the hell is going on and how to fix it... and I have the great honor of being invited to be a part of this.
April 19, 1775
Did we just start a war?
- Alfred Kirkland
Belarus shut the book and sat silently in the middle of the tent. She actually found herself beginning to enjoy reading about America's story. Sure the section she just read was long and mostly boring, but it left her brimming with anticipation for what was to come in the Revolutionary War.
She wanted to continue to the next section, but she's read so much already and she has a long walk back to the house, it just didn't seem worth it to potentially get lost in the woods at night.
So with no reason to stick around, she stood up and opened the door flap, finding the eagle still standing in front of it. The two traded an awkward glance until Belarus stepped aside and walked past.
She spent the entire walk back in silence, the eagle trailing behind her all the way until the edge of the woods.
Belarus took one final look back at the eagle, watching as it turned around and disappeared into the dark shadows of the forest.
The sun was just beginning to set, reminding Belarus that she hadn't eaten lunch or dinner yet.
Just as she was about to enter the house, the sound of a heavy object could be heard from behind. She turned around and watched as an unfamiliar ship lowered its door, revealing Tony as he grumpily stomped down the ramp and swung open the porch door to the living room.
Belarus entered after him, listening to the faint "fucking bitch fuckity fuck fuck!" as she went to put the book away in her room.
After making her way to the kitchen and cooking up a nice Belarusian meal, she retired to the living room to watch some tv.
Unfortunately for her, Tony also wanted to be in the living room, but rather than shows, he entertained himself by stuffing his face in a pillow and loudly reciting every curse word he could think of.
Belarus sat next to him on the couch and turned on the tv, picking the first show loud enough to block out his obnoxious groaning. Seeing this, Tony started screaming and cussing louder.
A visible tick mark appeared on Belarus' head as she continued to be subjugated to this torture. Here was the smartest being on the planet, throwing a temper tantrum like a insolent child.
Rather than give into his petty attempt at starting a fight, she used the tv remote to turn up the volume as much as possible, tuning out his screams as well as deafening both of them.
While Tony stopped screaming and covered his nonexistent ears, Belarus calmly ate her dinner, barely even reacting to the noise. Tony quickly reached his limit and grabbed the remote to mute the show.
Belarus turned to Tony and blankly stared at him. "Are you done whining?" She asked, not able to hear herself over the ringing in her ears.
Tony angrily yelled at her before standing up and storming off, though to Belarus it sounded like nothing but whispers. Now she could finally eat in silence... complete silence.
For the rest of the night the silence remained, even after her hearing returned. This was honestly the best part of staying at America's home: a giant house all to herself, no America, all the food, drinks, and entertainment she wants, no America, a bedroom with a beautiful view, and a bunch of secrets riddled all throughout... did she mention there was no America?
Speaking of which, she should probably get ready for bed so she can wake up early and read some more before he comes back.
(Meanwhile with America)
After six hours of going through TSA, seven hours of flying, four fuel refills, and 5000 miles through the Arctic Circle, America finally arrived at Russia's house.
Lithuania leaned on America's shoulder as they walked to the house. He only came to a couple hours ago and was still feeling a little woozy.
When he first woke up he was already on the plane. Fearing he was still stuck on the ufo, he tried to find the cockpit and land it, resulting in America having to rein him in before they crashed into the Arctic Ocean.
(Also, don't ask how America managed to get past TSA while Lithuania was still unconscious, that's something he refused to answer. Let's just say it involves a very large suitcase and some crazy luck.)
America closed a fist and knocked on the door, holding up the dizzy Lithuanian as the faint sound of footsteps could be heard getting closer to them. After a few moments, the door cracked open, a pair of light blue eyes peering out at them.
The eyes widened to the size of saucers, before the door swung open to reveal Ukraine as she darted over to help Lithuania.
America followed after them as they led Lithuania to the nearest couch, laying him on it before running off to get him some water and an ice pack.
By the time she returned, America had wandered off somewhere, which was very bad with an extra irritable Russia around.
Just as she was going to go looking for him, the doorbell suddenly rang, drawing her away from where America had disappeared. She walked back to the door and cracked it open again, only for it to be swung open by Poland as he marched in.
"Poland, what are you doing here?" Ukraine asked as she looked to one of the hallways America could've gone down.
"I heard Liet got, like, abducted or something," Poland responded before noticing Lithuania right in front of him, looking back at him from behind the ice pack on his forehead. "Oh, never mind."
Poland took a seat next to the couch and leaned forward to stare at the injured Lithuanian. "You look like shit."
"Good to be seeing you too," Lithuania grimaced as he pressed the ice pack harder against his head. Poland scooched a little closer and lifted the ice pack to look at Lithuania in the face. "Like, what even happened to you anyway?"
Lithuania snatched the ice pack from Poland's hand and set it back down on himself to hide his embarrassment. "A while ago I got kidnapped by Tony. I had only been returning yesterday after crashing at America's house."
"Who's Tony?" Poland asked, completely lost. Lithuania sighed, before starting his story about his first time meeting the alien.
Meanwhile, Ukraine was running around the house as fast as she could to find America, if Russia found him first then America was as good as dead.
As she turned a corner, she suddenly bumped into a large object, sending her flying back on her butt. She looked up from the ground to whatever had knocked her down, finding Russia's perplexed face.
"Sestra, are you alright?" He asked as he reached a hand down, pulling her to her feet. "Why are you running around?"
Ukraine stammered out an excuse, claiming she saw a spider. Russia easily believed her and stood around for a second... this was the first time he's left his room in the past week, and it was nice to see his sister.
His sister in turn looked at him, finding he was looking much better. He still had tired eyes and unkept hair, but he wasn't blackout drunk so that was a huge improvement.
"Hey, so I will be leaving for China later today... I am really needing to see him," he stated, though it sounded more like an apology.
Ukraine beamed at him, ecstatic he's finally done hiding in his room. "You be doing that." Russia nodded to her and turned around to begin packing.
The second his bedroom door latched shut, she sped off again to find America. After going down another two halls, she eventually found him standing in front of a shelf and holding up a picture frame.
Instantly she recognized which picture it was, a painting of herself, Belarus, and Russia when they were all children.
America glanced over as he saw her coming, giving her a giant grin as he looked back at the picture. "Man, Russia looked adorable as a kid... What the heck happened?"
"He's still adorable," Ukraine argued. America snorted and began reaching out to set the picture back on the shelf, biting his lip as a sharp pain in his shoulder nearly made him drop it.
"Maybe when he's not covered in the blood of the innocents or doing his weird 'kolkolkol' thing," he quipped as he held his shoulder tight.
Ukraine brushed off the insult and looked at the clenched hand on his shoulder with worry. "America are you alright?" She asked.
America smiled brightly and removed the hand. "Yeah dudette, my shoulder's just sore is all." To demonstrate, he spun around his arm to show it was fine, cringing as he heard a quiet popping noise.
He quickly lowered his arm and held it there, not daring to move it again. Ukraine gave him a questioning look, but he played it off like nothing happened.
"So anyway, why were you running toward me?" He suddenly asked so they could get away from talking about his arm.
"Oh that is right, I came here to be telling you to leave," she politely demanded. "Aww c'mon, I thought you liked me," he joked.
"I do like you, it is just that my brother has been in the bad mood for a while and seeing you will not cheer him up," Ukraine explained as she looked behind her to make sure Russia wasn't coming.
America brushed off the warning and began walking back down the hall, Ukraine following from behind. "Just chill, Russia always bounces back. He did it when the Soviet Union fell and he'll do it again. Belarus can't avoid him forever."
Ukraine froze in place, her mind racing a million miles a second as she tried to register what she just heard. How did America know what was troubling Russia? She never told him, and Russia definitely didn't tell him, so how could he possibly know about Belarus?
"Hey, America?" She called out. America turned and raised an eyebrow, finding her back halfway down the hallway. "What's up?"
"I was just wanting to know. . . how did you know about Russia and Belarus?" She asked. America's eyes shot out in alarm as he sputtered and threw a fist to his chest.
"*Cough cough* d-did I say that? That doesn't sound like me. I mean, I don't even know why Belarus is upset with him, it's not like he's dating China or anything... fuck."
'Wu— Wut da fuck was dat ya moron?!'
'I'm sorry, I panicked.'
'How? Ukraine is da least menacin' person ever. Did ya even try ta come up wit an excuse?'
'I don't know, ok?!'
"America are you feeling alright?" Ukraine asked, concerned with America's long pause and the perturbation evident on his face.
America refocused on her, the blood draining from his face when he realized she had been staring at him the entire time.
"Y-Yeah, just talking to myself," he nervously rubbed the back of his head. Ukraine took advantage of his anxiousness and pressured him to answer her, but he remained tight-lipped.
She knew he was hiding something, but unlike her siblings she wasn't aggressive enough to force it out of him. So she had to learn to get what she wanted by alternative means, namely through persuasion and occasionally manipulation... made easier by her good looks and "large tracts of land."
For America, the childish nation with little interest in women, he would need to be won over by some other means. Luckily she knew just the thing to make him crack.
She clasped her hands together and held them to her chest, tears starting to well up in the corner of her eyes as she let out a pitiful hiccup. She wiped furiously at her tears with the back of her arm, but as soon as they were gone, larger ones would take its place.
America opened his mouth to try and comfort her, or apologize, or something, but Ukraine interrupted him in between choked sobs.
"Please America, I have not seen Belarus in weeks, and-and-and she is refusing to tell me where she is. I d-do not know if she is the safe or-or if she is in needing of help or—or... I-I-I don't know! I-I'm begging you America, if you know anything about where my little sestra is, please please please tell me. . . I need your help."
Ukraine gripped onto America's jacket and collapsed to her knees, tears now fully cascading down her face and onto the floor.
America felt like he had just gotten stabbed in the heart. He was the hero, he couldn't just ignore her while she was this lost and desperate, but on the other hand Belarus would be beyond furious if she figured out he told.
After what felt like an eternity, America let out a long sigh and mumbled something about how, "she is so gonna kill me for this" before kneeling down to the still crying Ukraine.
Using one of his gloved fingers, he wiped the tears away from her eyes and gave her a comforting smile, evaporating any more tears that threatened to fall.
"Ok, I'll tell you, but just promise me that you won't tell anyone," he cautioned. Ukraine's whole demeanor flipped as she happily nodded her head.
America then proceeded to quietly explain everything that had happened since the world meeting: the confrontation in the alleyway, comforting her with candy and food, bringing her to his house, then his main house, all the way up to her playing video games as he was leaving.
Ukraine was now crying tears of joy as she wrapped her arms around his neck and tightly hugged him, planting a small kiss on his cheek and rocking him back and forth as she whispered countless thank you's.
After a few minutes of choking him out, she pulled away to let him breathe. "Thank you America, you are an amazing person."
America itched his head as a small pink dusting covered his cheeks. "Yeah, no problem... anyway, I should probably get going now."
"Yes, that is probably for the best," Ukraine replied as the two stood up and began walking down the hall once again.
The second Belarus woke up, she grabbed the book off her nightstand. She was going to read about the Revolutionary War and she was going to do it fast, who knew when America could come back.
June 14, 1775
Today we held a second Continental Congress, this one included some notable new faces, like Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson. Also Georgia has now been invited so all thirteen colonies are together.
This time we are trying to decide on how to deal with the conflict at Lexington and Concord. We're pretty torn on what to do, do we continue fighting, or do we try to negotiate with the British?
As for right now, we're setting up an army just in case. We'll have Washington be in charge, obviously since he's had the most experience as a general, and the rest of us will try to make some sort of treaty.
June 18, 1775
Yesterday the Continental Army fought the British in Boston, resulting in the British taking the city. That sounds bad, which it kind of is, but I would say this was a moral victory for us. We only lost a couple hundred compared to the 1000 British casualties.
Though the thousand something deaths are far more than necessary, hopefully we can come to some sort of agreement soon.
July 5, 1775
This is our final chance, our final chance to prevent a war with Britain and return to how things were. We're calling it the Olive Branch Petition... in simplest terms it states that we will abstain from fighting as long as they remove the old taxes and promise not to create anymore.
August 30, 1775
They didn't even read it! They didn't fucking read it! Why?! We are trying to prevent a war, who in their right mind would refuse a chance at peace?
But whatever, it's too late for that now. If England and that dumbass tyrant of his wants a war, then a war is what they'll get. I'll show them just how much they need me... without their precious charge handing over all the riches, their empire will collapse.
September 14, 1775
Ok, so maybe I was a little too quick to try and fight... and Washington may have figured out and grounded me, saying I was too young. I'm not too young, I'm... well I don't really have a true nation age since I'm not a nation, but I am physically 15, and that's not that young.
Of course Washington was having none of that, so instead I'm going to try and get some other nations to help me. I already have Netherlands on board, indirectly because he's just trading a bunch of supplies... but whatever, an ally is an ally.
My next two targets are France and Spain, since they seem to have the most beef with England. France obviously because he got Mattie taken away from him, and Spain since he's still upset about the armada and Florida. (I still don't know his obsession with Florida.)
I'm glad England has so many enemies, makes my job much easier.
- Alfred Kirkland
Belarus turned the next page, a small picture falling out onto her lap. She looked away from the book and lifted up the picture, analyzing the image of an adolescent America being pulled into a side hug by a grinning Prussia. This gave her a good idea of what was to come.
November 3, 1775
Sadly France and Spain can't join the war just yet, just until they know I have a chance of winning. In their place they are sending over a nation they know, a man named Gilbert Beilschmidt. Apparently he is the nation known as Prussia, a very strong empire in Central Europe that "kicked Austria's ass," whoever that is.
Well that's great, a strong nation is coming to train me. This is exactly what I need to combat England.
- Alfred Kirkland
Belarus suddenly had an epiphany. No wonder America turned out the way he did, he was brought up by Prussia of all people. They were both annoying, they had a strange affinity for battle, and they were in that ridiculous awesome squad or club or whatever.
December 26, 1775
Jeez, I know he said this training would be torture, but I didn't think I would have to run a marathon... in the snow... on Christmas.
When he first started training me, General Beilschmidt's exact words were, "you remind me of my awesome brother, so being the awesome me, I will train you just as hard so you can be awesome as well."
I wouldn't exactly call this awesome, I've never had to train for anything before and now all my muscles hurt. I didn't even know they did that.
Not only that, but he also— dammit he's calling me.
March 13, 1776
Today was General Beilschmidt's final test. After all the working out, running, swimming, fighting, and shooting, I finally get to challenge him.
Needless to say I lost in almost everything, except for swimming. I guess my super strength lets me push through the water faster.
April 1, 1776
As some sort of special training, Prussia invited his friend Hungary, a girl nation from Central Europe.
General Beilschmidt told me to fight her. Obviously I was hesitant, I wasn't about to fight a girl.
I hate to admit it but I had vastly underestimated her, and as a result I got my ass kicked.
- Alfred Kirkland
That lying bastard, he said he beat Hungary. Does that mean Hungary is as strong, if not stronger than herself? She didn't understand why, but it was actually making her a little jealous, maybe because America gave her all those empty compliments about being strong. Damn, that's the last time she listens to anything he says. That definitely earns him a punch.
July 4, 1776
I'm finally a country!! This is awesome, I don't even know what to do with myself. Maybe first I'll meet all the other nations, then make alliances, and trade a bunch, and... I don't know all the other nation stuff but I'm sure it'll be awesome.
But before I can do any of that. . . I have to find a way to beat England.
December 25, 1776
I'm currently writing this while crossing the Delaware in the middle of the night, and holy crap it's cold, it's like a mini Ice Age or something.
Hopefully we can get this ambush over with quickly and go celebrate a late Christmas.
February 19, 1777
For a while now Benjamin Franklin has been in France trying to convince the government to support our war. Hopefully he'll convince them soon.
August 6, 1777
The bat-le today was h-rd fou—t, -nd I got hu-t bad. One -f my ey-s g-t sta-b-d out an- I thi-k I h-ve a co-cus—on.
I— I nee- t- sl-ep.
December 19, 1777
This hasn't been a good year for the Continental Army. We've been getting our asses handed to us all over, first at Oriskany, which wasn't really a loss but it definitely wasn't a win. Then we had definitive losses at Brandywine and Germantown, all ending with us holing up at Valley Forge for the winter.
Most of the problem is that our army isn't experienced, they're all just hunters and militia men. Prussia has agreed to come up here and whip them into shape, so hopefully we'll come out of this a new army.
February 6, 1778
France has officially joined the war, which is huge for us. His idea was that, "if Angleterre could take away his Mathieu, then he would take England's Amérique."
Now we're getting help from the Dutch, Prussians, French, and soon enough the Spanish. The nations really don't like England.
September 24, 1779
So lately I've been doing small skirmishes with John Paul Jones, and holy shit he's badass. Yesterday our ship was nothing but drift wood and he still held strong, screaming that, "I have not yet begun to fight!"
The best part is that he actually did win the fight, though we had to abandon ship.
If I wasn't already a personification, I would think he was the embodiment of America. For a while I've been thinking on what to change my name to, and I may just have to incorporate some part of his into it.
May 12, 1780
Today was probably the worst day of the war so far, over 10,000 soldiers surrendered to the British in Charleston, South Carolina. I wasn't there since I'm fighting more up north with Washington and Benedict Arnold before he was revealed to be a traitorous scumbag.
October 19, 1781
Finally, I finally won. After 6 years of fighting I've finally won. I should feel happier about this but... I just can't get the image of England out of my mind. He looked so pathetic bawling his eyes out in the mud, it took everything in my power not to give him a hug.
The amount of entries written throughout this hectic time doesn't nearly do justice to how long and difficult this has been. There have been so many battles, bloody scuffles with England, and overall pain and struggling that has been left out. Maybe I should do what Prussia does and keep a library of journals throughout certain times.
September 3, 1783
Today the war has officially ended with the Treaty of Paris. As a full country, I had to attend to formally sign the treaty, and so did England. This is the first time I've seen him in almost two years and I honestly couldn't bear to look him in the face. He looked miserable.
Per the agreement of the treaty, England has to recognize the United States of America as an independent country, and by request of Spain, give him back Florida. Man, why's he so hooked on that place?
I know a few years ago I said when I was a nation I would explore the world and everything, but for now... I think I need to be alone.
- Alfred F. Jones
Belarus couldn't even fathom fighting a war against a loved one, then on top of that closing off from all her friends and family. Though she didn't have friends, so it was simply family, but it still irked her.
Following the process she has done so many times, she put the book back and waited for America to return.
About 20 minutes later, he came walking through the door stretching his arms and yawning excessively.
Belarus stood up the second she heard him and walked over to meet him. America rubbed his tired eyes and said in between a yawn, "oh, hey Bela- ow!!"
Belarus interrupted him by punching him hard in the bad shoulder. America clutched his shoulder and frowned at her, all tiredness instantly vanishing.
"What was that for?!" He screamed. Belarus crossed her arms and looked away from him, a tiny, reluctant blush forming on her cheeks. "Nothing. Now come on, we're having another sparring match."
"Can we maybe, you know, not do that," America argued as he rubbed his throbbing shoulder. Belarus turned one eye to him and gritted her teeth. "Excuse me?"
America flinched and gripped his shoulder harder. "W-Well you know, I've been flying around for a long time and I'm really tired. And besides, my shoulder is all screwed up, it's not really fun for you if I can only fight with one arm."
Belarus rolled her eyes and yanked on Nantucket, causing America to remove his hand from his arm and hold onto her forearm, desperately making sure she doesn't yank on it.
"You'll be fine, now let's go," she stated as she pulled America through the house and out the back door.
"O-Ok ok, j-just let go of Nantucket!"