towerofanimus | It feels like falling up.

Entry tags:

It feels like falling up.

Characters: Canada

i_luv_syrup and You.
Setting: The 20th Floor
Format: Either or.
Summary: Canada's climbed to the top of the tower to see what's around them if possible.
Warnings: NA.

Canada felt like he had been trapped in the building for much too long. Even in the forest it felt artificial and forced, like a garden or terrarium. It didn't feel like there was any connection to the outside world. So, gathering up his bear Matt headed up all those stairs, passing some terrifynig rooms like the one with the bloodied walls and screaming or the room that was a complete void.

Finally reaching the top and standing on the very top of the tower he sighed. Nothing could be seen through the fog but at least he could smell the fresh air instead of whatever was recycled within the building below his feet.

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"I can tell it's had an effect on you, you look like you have a major shift in politics about to drop on your head, Papa." He gave Francis another hug, the older man looked like he needed the contact almost as much as he needed Matt as a security blanket. It didn't bother Canada at all, feeling wanted and needed was something he enjoyed all the while worrying about France.

"Well, I missed you as well. Course in my mind I saw you about a month ago and I talked to you a week ago on the phone."

He winced. "Do I really look that bad?!" Major political shifts for Francis had involved guillotines and widespread panic. There were no such thing as a calm, diplomatic shift in power and he was well aware of how it made him look. "I thought I was managing to look somewhat sane in this miserable place," he chided, arms wrapping tight to the slightly taller boy.

He probably looked a sight. To what or whom was unimportant though as he took in how he was very sure this was real. He'd be dead right now, wouldn't he? Then again, as he stared off over Matt's shoulder - the fog blotting out existence uninvolved with the tower itself - he fancied this could be damned close.

Finally pulling back, he laughed weakly. "I do not imagine my phone would be very useful here even if I had it. Not here. What did we talk about?" It was curiosity; he roughly remembered... perhaps.

"Not that bad, just stressed" he gave France's arm a pat. "Really, you just looked a little out of sorts compared to how I usually see you." He had a feeling that France really needed him around at that moment in time. It was an odd feeling having Francis be so paternal but Matt shrugged it off as the pressure from being in this creepy tower.

"I think we talked about what was going to happen this year for christmas. If I was going to visit you or if I had planned to go visit England with Arthur this year. I really hadn't heard anything from Alfred so I was going to spend it with you just like old times when I was small." he gave France a small smile, Christmas had always been insanely awkward for Matt ever since the whole issues of whos custody he was under. Even now it was still a headache when everyone started arguing about holidays and politics.

It was dually strange for Francis to feel so pressingly fatherly as he was so the feelings of confusion were shared. It was all this tower's fault, all the anxieties that had built up upon not seeing loved ones, all of the paranoia attached to the bizarre events. He was relieved, that was all. It didn't seem as if Matt was all that offended by the outright treatment, either.

"Mm, I suppose I will accept that answer. I can work with stressed, non?" He tried to laugh it off with a gesture toward their surroundings. "Look at this weather; I would not be surprised if it is revealed this hellhole is really England itself. Certainly has the ah, sunny weather."

Mean old man. "If the Tower doesn't do away with us, we will celebrate together. I will take one for the more attractive side of this family." And he would do it without speaking one word of politics.

"Or the weather is like my east coast, foggiest place on the planet apparently" Matt laughed and shook his head.

"Be nice to Arthur, Papa, he has his own issues like we all do. Bt I think if we're still here for Christmas we should celebrate. I'll see if I can make rumcake or at least something like an old supper we'd have." Matt knew he'd somehow wrangle it in so England and Alfred, if he were here, would be welcome. It was a reassurement to Francis that Matt did still love him and wanted him around.

In fact a small part of Matt relished in the attention, it had been something he'd craved since he was a tiny colony and had been handed off to England. After that being ignored and forgotten took its toll and now the small colony that Matt once was, was overjoyed at his father giving him even the slightest bit of attention.

He crinkled his nose at that memory of said coastline as picturesque it be. The first time he arrived in what he was staking out for his new world, Arthur be damned. His men had complained how cold it got the longer they'd trekked inland, and yet "The similarities do not end with that. Here I find an inquisitive child as well--though you were shorter than me before. I do miss that part." A smirk showed that he was teasing but the suggestion made him chuckle in a different way.

Be nice to Arthur... He wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders with cluck of his tongue. "You know a man for over a millenia and try to have a normal relationship, Mathieu. I will behave myself as best as I possibly can~" Francis did perk a bit at the mention of traditional meals. Certainly better than the odd assortment of food the Tower was providing. "Rumcake, you say?"

"Me being short and adorable? I've been told I'm still cute just... big now." he blushed faintly at the teasing, he'd never been that good with handling anyones teasing of him.

At the mention of Arthur, Matthew sighed and gave his father a look. "I just don't want to find you with your fingers broken once again, or pining for your green eyed man." Matt teased and gave a small smile. "I've seen you both ways adn as entertaining as it is for me, hearing about it for the rest of teh week really isn't." but it never deterred him, he was still there come hell or high water for the two nations.

"Yes, rumcake, the thick moist kind that has cinnamon, cocoa and nutmeg in it. It's not hard to make, or I could try making christmas pudding again. I think it would've been a success if Arthur hadn't tried to watch it cook while I picked Alfred up from the airport last time."

Aw, his Mathieu was damned adorable when embarrassed. Of course he ruined the cute by goading him on Arthur's behalf before he could have a kind word in and he groaned instead. "For such a handsome young man you certainly are a brat. It's been awhile since he managed to break my fingers. I refuse to acknowledge the comment about pining. Green is an ugly color, either way!" He loved it, who was he lying to?

With a firm nod he dropped it. No need to be ridiculous, after all. "The only thing I'm concerned about is the kitchens having it. If you have been here for any time you can see how ridiculous the food here is. Should I distract Arthur?"

...no, that's not helping his cause at all.

"Preaching to the choir about your denial of the colour green, Papa." Matt grinned at Francis, he knew, more than anyone the French man's love for the Briton. Of course Matt only brought it up to make a point usually but this seemed a little different, catching up on their usual banter.

"Yes, I've been eating oatmeal for a while, I didn't see anything I really liked." he shrugged. Matt was a picky eater, not in the sense that he didn't like many things it was just that the Canadian was a bit of a health nut and not eating fresh fruits and vegetables was wearing on him.

"I'm sure you could distract Arthur, might help me if we did do some cooking."

He gave his son a look at that, crossing his arms stubbornly. Francis had a strange relationship with Arthur in which he hated the man but couldn't very well function without knowing he was close at hand. It was just like his darling Canada to ...misinterpret it into romance.

"No more of that talk, Mathieu. I am merely trying to make our dinner plans as successful as possible. You know that man is tragically flawed in a kitchen."

Excuses excuses...

"Alright, I'll stop talking about it. So, have you been talking to Prussia? He seems to be doing well as he always is." Matt changed subjects so easily it was like breathing to the Canadian. He'd managed the art after years of trying to dissolve battles between his family members and had nearly become the master at it.

"I heard Germany is also in the tower?"

Francis offered a tiny shrug in an attempt to appear innocent. As if he didn't get drunk with the man on the premise that he was feeling decidedly lacking in the Frenchness. Yes. Frenchness. "I would agree with that sentiment; he is as he always has been." That sounded innocent, right? Right. Good job, France.

"We managed to have a good time in this hellhole. It seems like the dorms are relatively safe, non?" Now that he's said it, he realizes, it is probably a jinxed concept and they are all screwed. Way to go... He huffed at the additional name. "Oui. He made fun of a faux pas I made over the network earlier in on my stay. I do not understand that man, sometimes; he has quite the unimpressed expression though. Uses it constantly."

"Well, you know nothing is grand enough for Prussia, he is who he is though and I'm glad to hear it hasn't changed. Besides, I don't think any of us are taking well to being here... it might be a defensive thing seeing as he really can't fight his way out of this one right?" Matt shrugged he didn't pretend to understand any of the European nations, most of them were so crazy he wondered how they still functioned as people.

"I think Germany is just...Germany. He just likes things calm and orderly, I can't say I'd mind such a thing within this place."

There was a certain amount of eccentricity that accompanied great age which is why the Europeans had such a difficult time. Not quite over the idea of swapping borders and substituting grand ego trips for a dose of reality, everyone was stuck in their ways whether they care to admit it or not. In all, they were the extended family from hell. Francis wanted to comment that Matt was a lucky boy to have so much space to himself, though considering who he lived beside...

Well then.

"Calm would be convenient, oui... Perhaps with a little less questionable paranormal activity as well." Hey. He was agreeing.

"Yes.... I hope things are calm..." he didn't say anything about the paranormal activity. He was still wary after the room he had found with the wailing noises and bloody hand prints.

"I really just want to go home."

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It feels like falling up.

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