Alfred F. Jones (
redwhiteandhero) wrote in
towerofanimus2012-12-10 02:11 pm
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☆TWO
Characters: Alfred F. Jones and YOU
Setting: Gymnasium
Format: I'll follow you
Summary: Just trying to keep warm.
Warnings: None right now.
[Alfred had gotten in the habit of a morning jog since school had ended, and he figured he might as well keep it up in the Tower as well. You never knew in a place like this when you needed to be in good shape. Plus, it was a good way to keep warm when there was no heat in the building.
Today especially he was feeling quite warm before he even finished a lap around the track. Too warm. He tried to keep going, but his legs were starting to feel like lead weights, and his head ached. Three-quarters of the way around the oval, Alfred gave up, wobbling over to lean on a piece of exercise equipment to catch his breath. Phew. This was obviously consequence of trying to exist on nutribars alone.]
Setting: Gymnasium
Format: I'll follow you
Summary: Just trying to keep warm.
Warnings: None right now.
[Alfred had gotten in the habit of a morning jog since school had ended, and he figured he might as well keep it up in the Tower as well. You never knew in a place like this when you needed to be in good shape. Plus, it was a good way to keep warm when there was no heat in the building.
Today especially he was feeling quite warm before he even finished a lap around the track. Too warm. He tried to keep going, but his legs were starting to feel like lead weights, and his head ached. Three-quarters of the way around the oval, Alfred gave up, wobbling over to lean on a piece of exercise equipment to catch his breath. Phew. This was obviously consequence of trying to exist on nutribars alone.]
5/5 ok there
[He's seeing two. And he's not entirely sure which one he's intending to address.]
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He's starting to register that something's weird about England--he sees the bandages, at least. He hasn't quite connected that to "is missing a hand" though; it seems like something that just shouldn't happen to England.]
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Dad?
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He is too feverish and headachey for this right now.
England squeezes his eyes shut and presses the palm of his remaining hand against one of his eyelids. The lack of vision seems to prompt a tad bit of swaying on his part, but he doesn't seem to notice.
When he opens his eyes and the older America is still there, his suspicion grows.
He must be hallucinating or something.
He makes a point of looking away from the older America, hoping that perhaps banishing the sight to his peripheral will make it fade. He instead addresses the littler of the pair.] America, what's going on?
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Um, magic? But--are you okay?
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[Give him a moment.]
...
[There we go.]
Did you say "dad"?
[America heard it too. So...
England is now eyeing the other America with twice the suspicion.]
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I turned stuff pink though so it's not his fault.
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...Merlin my head hurts.
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He finally catches sight of the wand, which first makes him bristle like a cat, and then draws a sigh of resignation when the bristling agitates his headache.]
Alfred. I see.
[Despite knowing that "Alfred" isn't a hallucination, he doesn't seem to be fully absorbing the boy's words. It's not until he picks up his wand that part of it registers.]
..."Merlin"?
[Yep he is completely ignoring the dad thing.]
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Merlin's from one of the stories you told me, right?
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Indeed, [to the baby, and to Alfred:] What do you mean showing him magic?
[Does he sound frustrated? He does. Sorry about that.]
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He made his wand light up like a candle and then he fixed the lights but then I turned them pink again.
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[England bites his tongue on that. He can feel his irritation growing rapidly, but if there is one America he will never take it out on, it's the tiny one on his back.]
I'm not talking about him, I'm talking about you! Since when can you do magic?
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He visibly balks. Oops. He does not know where to go from here.]
Er- that is...
[He averts his eyes from Alfred. Boy this got awkward really fast!]
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He's a different version.
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And I do believe Alfred is an alternate version of you, lad.
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Of course this is because this new information is incredibly interesting.]
Really? He's me? But he's a lot bigger. [He looks at Alfred.] Does that mean I get to look like you when I'm bigger?
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That's me? [Obviously, he'd seen his own baby pictures, but he'd just assumed, well... babies mostly look like babies.] And he's America... you're England. You're his brother... but Dad's my dad?
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He could also raise an eyebrow and completely dodge the question with a dry:] What, you don't think you two look alike? [They even have the same dumb cowlick!
Now he can explain things to Alfred without fear of having to tell his colony things that he doesn't want to tell yet.] I can't claim to know how your universe is configured, but you're correct in regards to mine.
America and I are not brothers in the sense that you're likely thinking. I...found him. And took him into my care.
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