and the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air

[colonial]

Characters: America, France, England, open
Setting: the cafeteria and the library
Format: action
Summary: America finally learns about the Fourth of July
Warnings: tiny colonial baby learning about that whole revolution thing

A; Cafeteria - CLOSED TO FRANCE
[It wasn't unusual for America to wander around the Tower on his own, at least a little bit. More than England knew about, really, but being in the cafeteria was hardly unusual for him. And they had good food again, so America was taking advantage of it. He'd stacked chocolate pancakes high enough they were a hazard to carry around, and he'd been unable to choose between chocolate or strawberry milk and had thus gone with both.

He's in a good mood today! What could go wrong?]


B; library - OPEN
[There were books scattered everywhere, some in piles, some open and abandoned, some left dangling off of chairs--it looked as if a small hurricane had taken place in the library, and given this was the Tower that wasn't impossible. But the real source of all the chaos is sitting on a book shelf he's rapidly clearing out. He's got a dictionary on his left and he's reading something else--but eventually he sighs and tosses it onto the ground.

This explains the state of the library.]

There's nothing here! It's not here at all!

C; England's room - CLOSED TO ENGLAND
[And, after tearing the library apart and finding absolutely nothing that would help as far as intricate details went, America had to return to England's room in the evening exhausted and unhappy. He knows England is sick--he was sick last year around this time, too--and he doesn't really want to bother him, especially with something France basically said was going to make him sad.

Instead he climbs into bed and tucks himself against England's side, trying not to look too downcast. He still looks really unhappy and frustrated, though, in spite of his best efforts.]

Comments

[colonial]

[...America does want to finish his pancakes. After a moment, he takes another gigantic bite and chews, thoughtfully.

Then he swallows and opens his mouth again.]

You're from the future, right?

[silencetoreason]

[For a moment, France relaxes. He thinks his plan has worked. Food has always been a strong motivator for America, after all.

But then he keeps on talking, and France has to fight back an irritated huff.]

...Oui. Yes, I am.

[He never really considered denying that. Between his style of dress, his stubble, and his manner of speaking in general, it's pretty obvious that he's not from the 17th century - or, at least, it should be obvious.]

[colonial]

I don't have a birthday yet. Do I get one?

[America will eat some more of his chocolate pancakes while he waits for the next answer.]

[silencetoreason]

[France nibbles on his lip and refuses to meet America's eyes. He's clearly not going to let this go. So, on the one hand, France could tell him about everything, the disadvantage being that England would gut him for taking it upon himself to tell America such sensitive stuff. And on the other, France could direct him to England, and then... England would gut him for making him explain.

Somehow, the fact that death isn't permanent in the Tower doesn't comfort him any.]

That's... Uh. That is a bit of a... difficult. Question. Mon chou.

[colonial]

[America tilts his head. For all he's been able to follow along and maintain this conversation so far, his childish viewpoint doesn't allow for the idea of birthdays being anything other than happy occasions.]

How come? I want a birthday.

[silencetoreason]

[It takes all of France's self-control not to nibble on his fingernails. Instead, he settles for twirling a strand of his hair around his finger. He still refuses to look America's way.]

Err... Don't you think it's best to leave some things a surprise? You, uh, you would not want to take all of the fun out of living your life, would you?

[Not that America's first birthday was particularly fun for anyone but France.]

[colonial]

But why don't I have one now? [America's hovering around the point, really. It's never occurred to him to worry about birthdays, but he knows some other countries do have them, and he's seen humans and aliens and all sorts of things celebrate them in the Tower, but he doesn't have one at all.]

[silencetoreason]

Because... [He frowns. How to put this?] Because nations need... special things to happen. Before their birthdays can become official, that is.

[colonial]

Like what? [America plays with his fork, watching France intently. He wants a birthday! Birthdays mean cake and presents! He wants cake and presents!]

[silencetoreason]

[France sighs and sets his cheek in his hand.]

Eat your breakfast, America.

[colonial]

[America sighs loudly.] Is this a thing I don't get to know 'cause I'm a colony?

[...Hey wait.] Can I ask England for a birthday?

[silencetoreason]

[France whips around so fast when he hears the second question that he nearly gives himself whiplash.]

Do. Not. Ask England for a birthday. Non.

[He sticks a finger in America's face to emphasize how serious he is. His reaction was so swift that it was nearly unconscious, but the mere thought of unintentionally leading America to do that is enough to get his heart racing. In his own world, a couple hundred years ago, he'd have smugly encouraged it, but not here. Not like this.

Perhaps he was a little too abrupt. Surely America doesn't realize the gravity of what he's saying, but he needs to understand how serious it is somehow.]

[colonial]

[America has to cross his eyes a bit to focus on the finger suddenly being wagged in his face. It's not as if he hasn't been reprimanded before, but usually he at least knows why someone would be doing it, even if he doesn't agree.]

Um--will he get mad if I do?

[silencetoreason]

C... Colonies asking empires for a birthday, that's... [He searches his mind for the best way to simplify this.] ...that is very upsetting to the empires, yes.

[colonial]

I don't wanna make him mad. [America isn't used to making England angry--not really. The idea is scary.] But--I don't understand. Why would he get mad?

[silencetoreason]

It would be more sad than mad, I think...

[More like "I know," but, details.]

You see... [And he finally turns to look at America, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips.] Nations get birthdays when something big happens. Normally when they... when they get a brand new government. Sort of like "starting over," or at least, that is how the humans think of it.

[He pauses, just to see if America is keeping up.]

[colonial]

[America tries to grasp this concept.] Like if England didn't have kings and queens anymore?

[Though he's not really clear on what England would have instead...]

[silencetoreason]

Yes, like that. If, say, some people were to decide that his king and queen were not doing a very good job, and they decided to replace them with people who were better at it...

[France winces. Unbeknownst to America, this whole concept is hitting a little bit too close to home.]

Well. Whichever day they decided to replace them would be the nation's birthday. More or less.

[colonial]

Oh. [It's going to take America a bit of time to process this, so he eats some more of his pancakes. It's a lot to figure out when you're so little and most nation concepts are still pretty strange to you.] ...I get a birthday in the future?

[silencetoreason]

[France doesn't bother to hold back his sigh now. America's so close to figuring everything out that he might as well make things easier on the both of them.]

Yes, little one. You do.

1/4

[colonial]

[Which is... Today, he thinks. Today in the future. But if he gets a real birthday then that means he had to get a new government, so some people decided that the one he has wasn't doing a good job and put new people there.

But--what's his government? America doesn't think much about that sort of thing. He's never really had to, after all. England takes care of that sort of thing!]

[colonial]

[He's a colony.








England is his government.]

[colonial]

[But then--then--]

done

[colonial]

What year is England from?

[He's never

once

asked...]

[silencetoreason]

[A sickening feeling settles in the pit of France's stomach. The implication hangs heavy in the air: America's never asked what year England is from, and England's never corrected him.

His Adam's apple bobs as he tries to moisten his too-dry mouth.

How many years did England say he was in the Tower for? France is from 2013, so then...]

It's- He's from... 2011.

[His voice sounds very small.

He's not looking at America any more.]