towerofanimus | (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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"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."