towerofanimus | from fairest creatures

Characters: OU!England and you!
Setting: Kitchen or Floor 19, the new library.
Format: Starting prose, but I'm flexible, baby. ;D
Summary: He's a bit disturbed by the lack of tea and history textbooks in this tower.
Warnings: England in the kitchen (but don't worry, only for tea!), probably language, and flying mint bunny.

Kitchen;;

He hadn't the faintest idea exactly how that trunk had been packed to encompass all of his basic needs, but he had never been more thankful for it as he was when he arrived in the kitchen and realized that this place lacked a supply of tea. He had brought his own tea down regardless of what he expected to find -- he trusted his own supply and brands far more than anything the tower had to offer -- but it was troubling to know that he'd probably end up having to ration what he had.

A deep sigh fell from the kingdom as he leaned back against the counter next to the stove, where the water waited to boil. He only hoped that the power wouldn't blip out while the stove was on, as it had seemed to be keen on doing this month thus far -- with the rate at which his nerves were fraying, he needed a cup of jasmine post-haste.
Floor 19;;

"There's nothing up there, either?" he questioned, craning his head back to look at the winged green creature hovering near the highest shelves. When the soft voice answered in the negative, England's generous eyebrows furrowed in perplexity.

The entire history section was gone from this library. Something about that disturbed him to his core. Those weren't just dry retellings of things that most people didn't care about anymore; those were his memories. The story of his life, and the lives of all of his comrades, as well. Stories that would die if they weren't passed down.

Chunks had been carved out of some other sections as well, it seemed. England was skeptical that the removals were at random, especially with one section all but eradicated. The pudgy rabbit fluttered down to rest on his shoulder, and he absently reached up a hand to stroke its head as he pondered. To anyone without a sight for fairies and the supernatural, it would look more like a gesture of madness to empty air at the side of his head, but England had more important things to worry about at the moment than his perceived sanity.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Prussia couldn't help but snicker, Arthur was so fun to get worked up about little things. "Fine, Arthur, and tea is great if you're a woman. Course you do enough needlework so it makes sense. So, you seen Canada around lately? I'm looking for him."

He really needed to figure out how to keep himself from being a source of amusement to Prussia. He couldn't even imagine how Austria must feel all the time. "Tea is splendid no matter what gender you identify as," asserted the former empire haughtily, sniffing. "And needlework is much the same, with the added benefit of being convenient."

The topic of Canada made a bit of a sour taste gather on the back of his tongue. Their last conversation hadn't really ended pleasantly, and he'd found it pointless to seek out the boy after that. "I haven't seen him for a few weeks, though I'm sure he's around," replied England. "Is it urgent?"

"Nah, birdie was just looking down last I saw him. Hope he hasn't gone and thrown himself off of the top of the tower or something. Poor guys got some serious depression issues with the whole being forgotten, invisible shit. If not I'll see if I can get him to make me pancakes, those things are fucking AWESOME." Prussia grinned, he nearly constantly remembered Matt for the sheer fact that the blond man made ridiculously good pancakes.

England felt a twinge of guilt at Prussia's statement. It was probably his fault that Matthew had been upset. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth when he turned away from Prussia to pluck a tag bag out of its packet. The bag was placed in the mug he had collected, and then England reached over to turn off the range and pour the boiling water into the mug.

"He does make good pancakes," conceded the island nation lamely, uncomfortable with the topic of Canada's depression. He really tried to remember who Canada was most of the time -- not only was it wrong to forget someone you'd helped to raise, it was just plain inconvenient -- but it was like there was some awful higher force that dictated what he could remember and when he could remember it.

"Only the best, besides, Birdie needs someone to tell him he's slightly awesome now and then. I mean stuck dealing with America and Russia as neighbours has to turn out to be a pain in the ass." The Prussian rolled his eyes and took a moment to watch England move around to make his tea.

"You look a little guilty there England, certainly you did what you could for your colonies." he said offhandedly and moved around to grab an apple, chewing on it thoughtfully for a moment.

England had to suppress a shudder at the idea of having to live between the two superpowers. He was already close enough to Russia that it was uncomfortable, but at least there were a few countries to buffer the border. Canada only had Alaska. And that wasnt't even saying anything of how utterly impossible America was. England didn't know how Canada managed it sometimes.

"I gave them my best," he answered shortly, staring meditatively into the mug. Into the peak of his empire, long after he had lost America, England had been downright cold to many of his colonies. But in those early days (before the heartbreak and thirst for power set in), his heart was in it for all, particularly when it came to the North American brothers.

"I shall tell you if I see him at any point," amended the isle as an afterthought. He'd just use the network that Prussia had been nagging him about before.

"Yea, you had a fuckload of colonies I don't know how you bothered to keep them all." Gilbert mumbled around the apple, taking another massive bite out of it. "You sure you're alright, you're looking pretty... I dunno, not guilty but upset? No, depressed. So, what's up? Don't you usually talk to Matt or France about shit that bugs you?"

"It's amazing what power can do to even the greatest of men," England answered vaguely, trying to disconnect himself from the truth of the statement as he voiced it.

Following his tidbit of wisdom, he scoffed. "I have better things to do than give France a laugh at my expense." Talking to the frog about his problems? He might as well just take his dignity out back and shoot it. "And I doubt that Canada wishes to speak to me at present."

After that, he paused, his eyebrows knitting together and his eyes narrowing as he spared Prussia a glance. He didn't verbalize his thoughts, but his confusion was evident: when did you get so perceptive?

"Why wouldn't Matt want to talk to you? And you don't give France enough credit, then again you two have been growling at each other since the dawn of time." Once England caught on to Prussia's needling he gave him a grin. The albino might've been an asshole but he was also a tactician, he knew how to wheedle out information. Just often it took too long and bored him to play boring mind games.

"So, you say something to piss off Canada? Must've been something pretty bad to get him irritated."

Prussia earned himself an unimpressed "tsk" noise before England turned back to his tea, lifting the mug to his lips to taste it. When he was content that it had steeped long enough, he removed the tea bag from the cup and discarded it, answering along the way. "Disagreement on life outlooks," answered England with practiced flippancy. "I am not cheerful enough for his tastes, and may have inadvertently rained on his parade, as it were. It wasn't intentional."

Not that that excused him being a cynical prick in general, but it wasn't out of malice, at least.

"Seeing as you're imperialist and he's been socialist as long as I've known him... yeah pretty big difference." Prussia mused, hunting the cupboards for something else to eat and winding up with a sandwich.

"Besides, you've always been cynical and boring. Don't know why Matt would get upset about that, I mean, he lived with you for how long?" He mumbled around his sandwich and took up his spot leaning on the counter again.

"Of you know having him trapped inside might be making him a little weird. Everytime I visit him the guys usually outside for seventy percent of his day. Who the hell knows, maybe you should say your sorry because it's getting creepy to see a depressed Canada."

"Haven't been actively imperialist for a while," England reminded. He couldn't deny he sometimes missed the golden days of his empire, and the power that came with it, but he was too weary for conquering nowadays. Plus he'd have most of the world on his ass if he even tried. It wasn't worth it.

He sneered a little at Prussia's description of him. Cynical he wouldn't deny, but certainly he was not boring. More pressingly than a jab at his character, though, was the matter of Canada. England frowned. "I did apologize." Seriously, what did the boy want from him? England wasn't even good with his own emotions, much less the emotions of other fully-grown nations. Children he could handle; adults were much less easy to comfort.

"Nah, but you have the mindset of it. Don't lie eyebrows, you do." Prussia smirked around his sandwich and watched the older nation.

"Don't get your panties in a knot, christ." the albino grumbled and finished off the sandwich, dusting the crumbs from his gloves. "Who the hell knows anyway, the entire tower is getting more and more paranoid."

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