(no subject)

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

Characters: England and all you positively insufferable wonderful people!
Setting: Floor Three
Format: Starting with prose/paragraph/whatever you want to call it, but I'll match.
Summary: Apparently the Shakespeare collections he brought with him aren't enough -- actually finding the library in this godawful place was a small blessing.
Warnings: Language, most likely, gosh England that's so improper (also mild suggestive themes, courtesy of him and fem!France)


The kingdom breathed a minor sigh as he turned the page, away from the inquiries of comedians and further into the tale of one 'Cesario'. A stack of books flanked each side of the open copy of Twelfth Night on the table; one stack for the books he had finished (currently, about three), and a stack for the ones that had not yet been opened.

Getting down to this floor had been a nightmare. England didn't mind stairs -- he was no lazy American, after all -- but this was just ludicrous. The place was a scientific disaster and a magical marvel. He was less disturbed by the physical impossibility than he was by the chance of hostile supernatural figures lingering about. It didn't take a mage adept to realize that a place like this could easily have them, just by looking at the way the tower defied physics and logic.

But at least he'd suffered no loss of limb nor any encounters with anyone he'd rather not meet with on the way down here. And, thus far, he'd had no significant disturbances.

Now all he needed to do was just stop thinking about the damn building and relax enough to enjoy what he was reading.

Comments

[fifty]

America didn't spend a lot of time in the library, except to check the network. That was actually what he was trying to do, except he did get distracted by the comic books. And, carrying a huge stack of them, it didn't even occur to him to check for errant book piles.

That would be why he trips over one of them and ends up sprawled out on the floor amidst novels and comic books.

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

The library was the last place England would expect to be disturbed (even though, to be quite honest, he'd gotten used to being disturbed in every kind of place). He really should have been a little more on his guard, but you live and you learn.

Which hopefully England would after he fittingly jumps in his chair at the sound of someone falling, losing his page in Twelfth Night to turn and look towards the source of the noise.

And then promptly go wide-eyed when he realizes what that source is. He should be more exasperated. He really, really should. But remembering that mysterious note's claim that his world had been "destroyed", something in him is happy that not all of it had been.

[fifty]

"Who left all these books here?" America whined, ignoring that this was a library, and if books were going to be anywhere this was the best place for them, scrambling to his feet and looking around.

Oh, if it was England, that made sense. Wait, England? America stares back--after months assuming the other nation had died or something, actually seeing him here is a bit of a shock.

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

If England had realized sooner that what he was doing was indeed staring, he wouldn't have done it for so long, as staring is very rude and he wouldn't want to stare at America anyways.

Even though he does for quite a while before his speech functions click back into place. He bristles, clipping out the response, "It's a library. You should have been watching where you were going." After that, he scoffs, looking away to reprimand a little more quietly, "Not that one shouldn't always look where they're going, particularly if they're as prone to making spectacles of themselves as you are."

PAPA COUNTRYYYYY D';

[lilpuzzleteer.livejournal.com]

"Uh...excuse me?"

Luke was a good boy, and didn't raise his voice in libraries. But he'd been hunting for a particular book for what seemed to be the better part of the day- anything to distract him from the whole nonsense of leashes. Of course, it seemed to be in the current ownership of a guy with...quite the sizable brows.

"Do you intend to read that any time soon?" Luke pointed to one of the not-yet-read stack, A Midsummer Night's Dream, before dropping his hand because pointing was rude. "If you are, that's fine. I've just had no luck finding it at all, and..."

MY CHILDDDDDD <3

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

"Hm?" England's response at this was a quiet hum as he looked up from his book to peer at the child that had addressed him. Familiarity rung in the lilt of the boy's words. So some of his people were in the tower.

He regarded the little boy with polite curiosity before following the line of his finger to the copy of Midsummer. "Ah, you're free to take it, if you'd like," replied the nation with a cordial smile. "I've certainly read it enough times." Following that, he set aside Twelfth Night so he could gently slip Midsummer out from the stack.

Once he'd gotten it out without upsetting the rest of the pile, he held it out to the child. "It's an excellent play," remarked England, voice soft in consideration of his environment. "Have you ever read it before?"

PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[lilpuzzleteer.livejournal.com]

Luke took the book graciously, nodding, though clearly curious. "You have?" Read it enough times, he means. The book was quickly thumbed through, as if to check it's validity, before Luke picked his head up once more.

"Ah- yes, with the Professor." The boy wasn't about to admit it'd been a bedtime story one of the nights he'd slept over- that just didn't sound dignified at all. "It has been a while, and I have never had the chance to read it on my own- I've enough free time now that I should be able to with no trouble."

...there wasn't a single trace of scorn in his voice. Not at all, no way.

<3

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

England allowed himself a quiet chuckle. "Indeed. It's one of my favorites, in fact," he confirmed. Nothing quite captures the whimsy and magic of his folklore as Midsummer does.

He turned in his seat to better face his conversational partner, smile fading to a look of mild intrigue. He didn't miss the subtle vocal cues in the statement, but it was probably best not to pry. So, he instead opted for what seemed to be the less sore of the topics. "The 'professor', hm?" he repeated inquiringly. "You both have good taste, to enjoy the works of William Shakespeare."

[pineandmaple.livejournal.com]

Canada spent a great deal of time wandering the library, looking for somethign to catch her attention. Her wandering today has left her in this corner of the library, absently looking over the titles, Kumariee trailing just behind.

It took her by complete surprise to see a man she hadn't met before. She tried to at least know people by face and name, if not better...Then she saw...his eyebrows and America's impression sprung to mind. She hid a giggle and stepped closer.

"You must be England."

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

With the conflict between England's attempts to engross himself in his reading and his alertness of the surroundings of the tower, being addressed caused a somewhat mixed reaction -- especially considering it was by his nation name, in a voice that he did not recognize in the least.

His muscles jumped beneath his skin as he whipped his head to look at the girl in question. He made some kind of effort to not let his eyes look so wide while he looked at her, but considering how alarmed he was, it didn't work as well as he hoped it would.

England's immediate conclusion was that she was a nation. Maybe one he hadn't met before. He couldn't claim to be able to recognize every single one by face. He was certainly well-known, though, so perhaps she was able to piece it together through information from the grapevine.

"And you are?" he returned in a polite voice, trying to banish his suspicion. For all he assumed that he didn't know her, this girl did look awfully familiar somehow...

[pineandmaple.livejournal.com]

She held her hands out, trying to show at least that she came in peace and wasn't going to hurt him. Perhaps she should have put more thought into walking up to nations and saying she knew who they were. But a bit of her was pleased she was right.

"You won't recognize me...I'm not from your world. Nor are you my England. I'm Canada. You're from America's world."

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

England seemed to relax marginally at the show of no weapons, but he still looked wary of the girl's presence. Wariness melted into bemusement at her statement, his generous eyebrows furrowing together. The gears in his brain started to turn again as his eyes wandered to that one errant curl of hair dangling in front of her face.

No wonder she looked so familiar. But he could hardly remember his own world's Canada, much less be expected to recognize the Canada of some other world. "Regretfully," he admitted to the mention of America with a small breath that wasn't exactly a scoff.

His face still held a note of confusion about it while he looked at her, but at least it wasn't evident suspicion anymore. "Your world-- I take that your America and...England are women as well, then?" Not that he had a problem with that, of course, but he wanted to know if it was everyone that was gender-swapped or just certain nations.

[eastern-awsum.livejournal.com]

The library bored Prussia, he usually preferred to lurk in the cathedral or in the forest. But the Library brought it's own interests and entertainment. But once he entered the library and began heading to where most of the historical fiction was kept he stumbled, literally, upon England and his book piles.

"Son-of-a OW, what the hell?!" he grumbled rubbing his shin with his good hand the other wrapped tightly in bandages and in a sling around his neck.

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

Well, wasn't that a voice that England wanted to hear in the sanctuary of a library?

"Quiet down, won't you? And be more care--" As he turned to look towards what he was sure was going to quickly become a very irritating thorn in his side, his reprimand cut short at the sight of the medical supplies adorning Prussia's oh-so-awesome body.

His brows arched high over his eyes, and he closed his book, his index finger marking the page he was on. "Bloody hell, what happened to you?"

[eastern-awsum.livejournal.com]

"Most recently, your fucking piles of crap as for my arm I bumped into Hungary in the dark, we fell, it broke." he grumbled and looked over at England. "Right before Hungary was mauled and we spent nearly a week hiding in her bedroom while the power was off and things were wandering the halls looking to kill us." he explained bluntly and looked at the Englishman in his chair.

"So, when did you get here?"

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

"..."

Prussia will have to excuse England as he balks at that explanation, apparently too shocked to even scold him for his manner of referring to the collection of novels at his side.

"What?" Prussia may also need to wait a minute or two on the answer to his question, considering.

[champagnedelis.livejournal.com]

France had grabbed a random bodice-ripper novel she'd found from the male Germany's reading pile, barely able to contain her laughter at the sheer amount of smut she'd been greeted with. "Oh, if only I could show England this..." she chuckled, a sad smile tweaking her lips for a moment before she flips a page, laughter bursting out at the mention of 'it was a very large it.' She leaned against the bookshelf - incidentally, the one with the blonde man's reading table on the other side - and proceeded to quietly read the atrociously filthy text out loud.

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

England was a person that very much valued quiet in a library. Libraries are places of research, learning, and knowledge, and should be treated with hushed respect. Not to say that he rejected all conversation in libraries, of course, especially if it pertained to literature; but it should be done in a non-invasive manner.

Reading aloud was a case-by-case basis. A read-aloud for children was alright. Whispering to oneself was alright.

Reading what was no less than full-blown smut out loud, even in a mumble? Not alright.

He didn't even pay the voice much attention until it started to laugh, but the second he tuned in to the first sentence, he found the rest impossible to ignore. England's face flushed with color, and he closed Twelfth Night with a prominent snap, rising from his chair to step briskly over to the bookcase and glare around the other side from the end of it.

"Do you mind, miss?" he queried in a low, but still evidently irritated voice.

[champagnedelis.livejournal.com]

France had just reached the part about the big 'it' entering the female protagonist's 'dripping wet box' when the irritated voice interrupted her. Ah, the blonde man she'd spotted earlier.

The blonde man with an obviously English accent that made an inner part of her sneer as France, while another part of her wriggled with delight.

The eyebrows almost made her visibly wince, but she controlled herself and lowered the book she'd been reading, an apologetic expression appearing on her face. "Ah, je suis désolé monsieur. I did not realize I was being so loud."

[vanavanushka.livejournal.com]

Ivan liked to read--it was one of the lesser known facets of his life, but he certainly liked books and the written word. As such, the library was one of the places he liked most in the tower--after all it was big enough to keep him occupied when he wasn't trying to figure out a way to escape, or trying to find something to drink, since his alcohol supply had diminished to nothing at all. The new found, almost completely ice-cream diet didn't help.

He carefully collected a few books, moving to sit on a seat, barely noticing the other in a seat nearby, carefully settling down, choosing a book from the pile, and opening it carefully, humming a little to himself.

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

Even as absorbed in the tale of Viola as he eventually became, England couldn't help but become aware of a creeping sense of dread. He shrugged it off, though, attributing it to his nerves about the tower. Despite the anxiety that was just getting worse, England kept on reading, until humming caught his attention.

An illusion of this awful place, maybe? The nation looked up from the volume opened in front of him--

And froze immediately.

Oh.

He was dead silent as he stared at the Russian man occupying one of the other chairs, lips parted but not moving. At length, he closed his mouth, swallowed, and cleared his throat before returning his attention to the story in front of him. Maybe Russia wouldn't notice him.

[vanavanushka.livejournal.com]

Ivan felt the eyes on him, and he frowned slightly, turning the page of his book, marking his page, and then looking up, brows furrowing as he peered over the englishman's book, and then he frowned slightly.

"Ah. Angliya," he started, hummed a little, rubbed his thumb over the book cover, pondering for a moment. "I did not know you were being here as well. Though I am supposing it is not being very much of a surprise."

Sorry I'm late!

[i-luv-syrup.livejournal.com]

Matt was still new to the tower, and it had taken him some time to start learning the layout but once Maddie had told him of the extensive library, the Canadian wanted to see for himself.

Shifting through the tall shelves he plucked a book off a shelf, not noticing England nearby at one of the tables. Cracking open the spine he scanned the first few pages and managed to get lost in the small book.

Kumojiro on the other hand was bored and with the tall blond man who fed him engrossed in a boring book he settled on going over to the other soul that inhabited the library. The fat little bear waddled up to the side of England's chair and looked at him curiously before putting a paw on the arm of the chair. "Who?"

/fashionably/ late. welcome to the party!

[pixietea.livejournal.com]

England gave a small sigh as he closed Twelfth Night, rolling a tense shoulder before reaching for the next book in the pile -- Hamlet, as it were.

As he set the finished play aside with the rest of the volumes he had already completed, a movement in his peripheral drew his gaze down to the arm of the chair he was seated in. His brows knitted together in vague curiosity as his eyes traveled from the paw to the creature they were connected to.

A polar bear? How very strange. And it spoke, too. For some reason, the voice sounded very familiar to him. So, bizarre as it was, England offered a smile to the pudgy bear. "Well, hello there. Have you wandered away from your keeper?" He couldn't imagine an animal here by itself (those monstrosities on the forest level aside), so surely it had to be someone's companion. He couldn't quite put his finger on why he felt that he recognized this bear, though...

[i-luv-syrup.livejournal.com]

"Food?" the near nosed at England's hand that was close to him and licked it. Kumojiro was a lazy bear, after being with Matt for so long the entire hunting instinct was virtually nil.

On the other hand, Canada was having a near heartattack now that his bear had wandered off and after a few minutes he spotted the white bear. But what he found odd was that the bear had picked out England to go to, he didn't think the bear even liked England but he never understood his little bear.

Going over he stopped just short of the table, wondering if England would even see him there or if he'd have to actually touch Kumojiro to become apparent to the Briton.