towerofanimus | (no subject)

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(no subject)

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.

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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.

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?"

"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?"

"..."

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.

"Did your eyebrows block your ability to absorb information or something?" he raised a silvery eyebrow and put his hand in his pocket. Prussia didn't repeat himself, watching England's evergreen eyes with a hint of amusement.

"Toss off," was the ever-eloquent reply to that, punctuated with a glare and the pointed turning away from Prussia to look back at the interior of Twelfth Night. "While I care naught for your health (or lack thereof), I enjoy Hungary's company, and to hear that she was attacked is...alarming, to say the least. What is her current state?"

Hungary was one hell of a woman, and England knew she could take care of herself, but "mauled" indicated that she had to have taken some pretty heavy damage nonetheless.

"Thanks, you always were such a treasure to be around." he growled and gave one of the stack of books a pointed tap so the top half fell over into a jumbled mess on the floor.

"I saw Liz a few days ago, she's fine and her leg is healing well. Just don't expect her to be up and walking for a while." he stated and watched England.

England regarded the disturbed stack with disdain. "A gem worthy of your ever-charming company, of course," he retorted dryly, standing from his chair and then bending down to retrieve the rest of the stack in both hands, lifting it to the table that he'd situated himself at.

"I wouldn't wish her to try her limits, I assure you," England insisted as he slid the pile onto the surface of the table. "I'm glad to hear that she's progressing well." He knelt, after that, to start collecting the volumes that had been toppled.

"And to answer your question," began the nation belatedly, "I've been here about two weeks now. I haven't kept a precise tally."

"Yea, I don't talk to her much she tends to hide." he shrugged and watched Engladn making no move to help him retrieve the books he knocked over.

"So, two weeks, you figured out the network here yet?"

"I can't blame her," England returned to that; whether it was a comment on the dangers of the tower or an insult to Prussia, it was hard to tell. But considering it didn't sound very sarcastic, it was most likely the former. He didn't expect any assistance with the books, and just kept right on gathering them up, placing each one atop the stack it belonged to.

He spared Prussia a brief glance, keeping the confusion out of his face and voice. He didn't even know that there was a network. "I haven't," he responded simply. "This is the first time I've bothered to come down to the lower floors."

"Becoming a hermit too? Doesn't surprise me with how much you talk to yourself all the time." he rolls his eyes and looks around the area England has nidden hismelf in. "You should try to computers, might find France or Canada kicking around."

England scoffed out a sharp "belt up" at the insinuation, plus a sour, "I do not talk to myself," as he plucked the last book from the floor and set it delicately atop the pile. It wasn't his fault that the rest of the world was too ignorant and removed from their innocent roots to see his friends.

"Oh yes, because I've been absolutely distraught without France to talk to." Of all the people he wouldn't want to use the computer to find, France was definitely the forefront competitor. The other name didn't seem to strike a chord at first, but the nation eventually continued, "And I'm sure I could find Canada through other means if I so desired."

Truth be told, he just wasn't the best with technology. "But perhaps I'll give it a go at some point."

"You do talk to yourself, and apparently a flying bunny." he smirked and approached the table that England had taken over with his sea of books. "France is a good guy, plus now he's lost his sex drive by being here. Think he's had one too many scares for him to be comfortable with anything other than freaking out. As for Canada, you couldn't even find him on a damn map let alone if he was in front of you." It was something that bugged Prussia, and he still didn't know why of all the nations he could see the tall blond man better than most others could.

"The computers are just something to kill time, but you should try them out."

"Not just the bunny, thank you," he defended tartly, thoroughly ignoring the punch-worthy expression on Prussia's face in favor of pretending he was still enraptured by the shenanigans of Twelfth Night.

The pretense was dropped completely when he was given word without France, and aimed a surprised look at Prussia without abandon, eyes wide beneath raised eyebrows. "France. Lost his sex drive. The frog lost his sex drive," he repeated in an almost-monotone that carried undercurrents of incredulity and disbelief. He'd laugh if the idea wasn't so damn disturbing. There were just constants in this world that weren't supposed to be messed with.

The idea shook him enough that he almost completely forgot the original topic, and had to tack on a distracted, "Some other time," in reference to figuring out the network. Canada, bless his soul, unfortunately seemed to have been dropped from memory by England's thoroughly boggled mind.

"Point proven" Prussia shrugged adn raised an eyebrow at England's reaction. It was interesting to say the least. "You alright England? You look like you ate an entire jar of marmalade."

He only seemed to notice his overreaction when Prussia responded so oddly to it, and shook his head, as if the movement could physically shake his brain back into full operations. "I'm-- quite fine, thank you." Never mind that he was actually thanking this tosser, he still couldn't even wrap his brain around France not being a relentless pervert.

"It's too much to hope that the network here is stable, I suppose?" added the kingdom after a couple seconds of thought (which were mostly spent trying to remember what they'd been talking about before he got so thoroughly mindblown).

"Yeah, you look totally fine." Prussia merely smirked at how visibly shaken England was. Step one, stir up shit completed. It was more or less a game to the Prussian, it wasn't like he actually took most of the nations around him seriously.

"It's been stable as long as I've been here. Then again,it was down while the power was off but that's understandable."

"Sod off," England retorted, much less amused than the other nation seemed to be. Prussia was one to judge who looked "fine" and who didn't, considering his condition.

Though he wasn't paying attention to the book anymore, he kept it open anyways, if only so Prussia wouldn't get the impression that he actually cared that much about what the Germanic had to say. "I'm surprised," he confessed lightly, raising an eyebrow. "One wouldn't exactly expect reliability from this place at first glance."

"Yeah, weird shit happens all the time here. Like having to eat ice cream for a month." he was still unimpressed about that seeing as dairy products weren't exactly his favourite thing on the face of the planet. They were there beside eggs on the list of foods he hated and refused to eat.

"So you planning on just hiding in the library?"

"...Ice cream?" England parroted with confusion. He really, truly had not left his room for any reason except to use the restroom -- not even to eat, it seemed. His nation body did have perks sometimes. "That sounds dreadful." Not that he had a particular vendetta against ice cream, but to eat it for every meal was an awful diet to keep.

"I was planning on perhaps conducting some exploration later," admitted the kingdom. "When I am better armed." He didn't elaborate beyond that; Prussia, being a military nation, would likely understand.

"Yea, ice cream, sucks for someone who hasn't eaten milk products routinely until the past 100 years." he grumbled but that was neither here nor there mostly just something the albino could complain about.

"You'd want to be armed, the forest is full of things that'd want to eat you, I'm sure the infirmary isn't safe either, the pool is insanely deep and I don't know how warm it is. The kitchens aren't particularly safe either. It's more or less like this building is designed to kill us."

"I'm sure America would have a field day," England grumbled. When at a loss for anything to say, it was always easiest to go the route of insulting one of his fellow nations -- particularly either France or America.

He listened to Prussia's tally of perils with resignation. "I expected as much," stated the island nation curtly. "The place is brimming with bad magical energy." And he wasn't even a master magician, so it likely went even deeper than what he could sense.

"Should we really give him more sugar?" Prussia raised an eyebrow, with the amount of coca-cola the American drank he was hyper as was. Not to mention Gilbert suspected the guy was ADHD or something close to it.

But once England mentioned Magical energy he couldn't keep his grin repressed. "Might want to keep your wand close then Arthur, or a semi-automatic either one, you never know when something will want to gnaw on your ankles for supper here."

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