(Untitled)

[gavethemwhatfor]

[The rare person who still walks in and out of the doors to the "outside" of HQ, as opposed to resigning themselves to remaining within its depths forever, might find themselves in a lobby, as you expect these office buildings to have. And on one of the couches, they'll find Canada lying there, wearing an unzipped hoodie without a shirt underneath

Comments

[evenburnssouls]

[He's hardly one of the more outwardly outlandish residents, but either way, he might prove a bit startling. Possibly because he's carrying a tray with a pot full of tea on it and not necessarily looking where he's going until he almost runs into Canada.

...Well, it's not his fault Canada is sometimes almost invisible.]

[gavethemwhatfor]

[He staggers back and only barely manages to avoid falling over as he rights himself.]

Oh, um, hi, England? [He sounds so confused mostly because he's not sure what the etiquette for introducing yourself here is. Is he going to assume that this is, like, just plain old England? Or does he treat it like meeting someone he's never met before? Either way, he doesn't actually consider the possibility that this is an *Arthur* and not England per se, as that's not actually been explained as explicitly to him yet as something that happens here.]

[evenburnssouls]

[He barely keeps his tea upright, but somehow he does. Though the tray ends up at approximately eyebrow level. He peers underneath to look at who he nearly ran into.]

Matt- [Pause. No, this one just referred to him as 'England' like almost everyone else here. A quick ping of his soul (he doesn't even know if nations can feel that; perhaps it's a bit intrusive and improper) reveals that this? Is definitely a nation. After all, one shouldn't rely on circumstantial evidence alone.]

Er... Canada, then, I take it? A-anyways, I'm not England.

[gavethemwhatfor]

Uh, yeah, Canada or Matt, anything's fine... [He's. Well. To be frank he's kind of confused for a moment as he wraps his mind about the idea of England not answering to England.] Huh...? [He mutters to himself for a moment as he thinks it out. Universes. Nuclear war ridden Alfred. Um. Right. Okay, he can manage this.] Oh! So you're like Arthur but not England? [As much as he knows about universes, he's so wrapped up in identifying as Canada that he never actually thought about the idea that some universes are alternate enough that they're not nations at all. And so just thinking about the idea at all lends a tone of significant surprise to his voice.]

[evenburnssouls]

[He looks a bit uncomfortable at the sudden focus on him not being a nation.] Not the United bloody Kingdom either. Not even English if you want to get technical. [Throat clearing goes here.]

But yes. Just Arthur Kirkland. It's a pleasure to meet you, and sorry about not seeing you. I was trying to not spill my tea this time. [Go about thirty steps down the hallway from whence he came and there will be a rather large tea scented wet spot on the floor.]

[gavethemwhatfor]

Oh, I see... sorry about that... [He now feels absolutely terrible for thinking of him as England that way. Doesn't *he* hate it when even his good friends mistake him for America? As much as he wants to ask "so what do you even do if you're not England", at the same time he balks from the incredible tactlessness of that question. So, well, time to come up with something else to say. There is a notable pause as he does this because, ugh, his head is hurting a little again.]

Um, so, just where are you taking that tea? [Maybe this is a logical leap he's having trouble making in his current state, but he doesn't understand why he wouldn't have a teapot in his room or something. Because it's not like he might only just have his bedroom in HQ, much like Canada himself does.]

[evenburnssouls]

One of the libraries, where I hopefully will not be disturbed by any random Alfreds or Americas or what have you at an inopportune moment involving a cup of tea in one hand and a priceless book in the other. [Ask him. Ask him how many times he has had this happen. He is very adept these days at quickly removing moisture from books without further damaging them.]

After all, despite the regenerative nature of this place, that would be the one time whatever is in charge of it would decide to go on holiday.

Care to join me?

[gavethemwhatfor]

Um. [He kind of just spends a moment taking this offer in. It's the kind of thing that doesn't actually happen to him very often right after waking up, after all, and sophisticated words are still kind of these long things that can run away from him if they're given too much space to play around in.] Sure? That sounds all right. [He's not sure when he's actually going to get breakfast amid all this, but, well, he'll just... he'll be fine if he just has it as brunch later, right? And libraries are, um, nice enough, books are good when you want to be alone and they're quiet and it's okay if you're invisible with them. And tea is a hangover cure or something, is caffeine good in these situations, yes, sure, he'll assume it is. His nod of agreement comes out of time with his words, and he moves to easily get into step with England Arthur. He's going to have to get used to this and he might as well start now.]

[evenburnssouls]

Assuming no one's intruded while I've been away making tea, I should have some scones in there still. Would you like some? [Oh Arthur. Even if you are not a nation in this form, your cooking still, quite frankly, sucks. No one will be absconding with your scones except perhaps your Alfred, and it's doubtful he'd go into the section of library you'd sit and read in unless he saw you there.]

Forgive me if I'm being too forward, it's just rather rare for me to actually have company.

...What's it like being a nation?

[gavethemwhatfor]

Oh, sure! That sounds great. [Pity Canada. He is capable of doing such math as Scones + Current Time = Breakfast at this hour, but not England + Scones = Burnt Scones. While Burnt Scones <<<< -Breakfast, Breakfast >>>> 0. And so he is led into the trap.]

Oh, well, uh, that's like me asking you what it's like to be human, isn't it? [...IS ARTHUR HUMAN? Oh, god.] Or, you know, whatever you are if you're, um, not human? [MOVING ON MOVING ON MOVING ON.] It's just how I am. Going through life doing my job, making sure business and stuff goes right, and trying to be friends with everyone... It's not that different from being normal, I guess, except for how it's over hundreds of years. [He's not really comfortable actually considering his fate as a person, and tries to just focus most of the time on what he has to do being Canada, as opposed to seeing how far Matthew Williams can get with any barfly he wants after hundreds of years of experience, or drinking himself to death hundreds of times just because he can. Although he will admit even

[evenburnssouls]

[Someone thinks his scones sound... great? And they aren't his Alfred? Oh. He's so happy he thinks he could burst. Clearly Canada can see the overjoyed grin that keeps spreading across his face whenever he stops thinking about his facial expression.] Splendid! They're currant with a bit of butter and there's some honey here on the tray with the tea if you're interested. Oh, and an extra cup, though that was more in case someone startled me and I dropped mine, but I don't mind sharing.

[He does have manners enough to wait, of course, until after Canada says his entire piece, before he starts speaking.] A-and, yes, I am human, so that would be in a similar vein, but... well, I thought perhaps there were some differences in feeling. You nations have such interesting souls! Though, I assume that is part and parcel of being the physical manifestation of a cultural Zeitgeist... If I had time, I would like to study it further! [Aaaand here comes the dawning realisation that not only has he been talking at Canada, but he's been speaking as

[gavethemwhatfor]

[...when was the last time Canada actually ate a proper meal? It may well have been forty-eight hours. So he's. He's going to power through this and if universes are different, then, eh, EnnnnnnnnArthur might actually be able to cook, right? Right? To be honest he still feels a tad guilty about being the North American brother without that tolerance. But, yes. He's going to go along with this. What's the worse that could happen.]

Uh, well. [He's a little uncertain about all this?] Well, I mean, I don't really know what it's like to be made of just one person's soul, you know? It's a Zeitgeist like you said, everything averages out pretty much. I guess I have to change my mind more than normal people do, since there are parts of me that disagree with each other... And feeling like there are parts of me, it doesn't really feel like that for humans, does it? Since they don't have, uh, provinces or anything. Aheh. So it's okay if you want to study it! Nobody's ever been that interested in all that stuff before, they just try to wrap

[evenburnssouls]

[He pauses to think about that question, quite literally stopping just before the still open library door. Finally, in a low tone, he responds.] I am not, perhaps, the best human to answer that question. Even without counties or provinces or what have you, I find there are many parts to me.

[On that note, he will bustle into the library, making his way to a cozy corner in the back with three rather overstuffed chairs and a table in their midst with a plate of scones sitting there. At first glance, the scones even appear quite innocuous. Oh, no, these ones aren't burnt, miraculously. Their treachery is far more subtle. He somehow mixed up baking soda for baking powder, despite being from a nation where the former is known as bicarbonate of soda. We shall blame the American labeled cans in the kitchen.]

It's very strange reaching out, expecting to find one soul, and touching millions... Ah! That is a kind offer, but, I don't want to just treat you as a research subject. It'd be unfair to you, don't you think

[gavethemwhatfor]

[Hm. That's an interesting response, one he mulls over as he follows England into the library. In a sense he suppose humans do have internal conflicts in microcosm of the ones he experiences himself, but why would Engl--Arthur jesus god--find it so appropriate regarding himself in particular? Well. There's something else bothering him a little more than that, anyway.] Why do you keep talking about souls like that? [Canada's confused by Arthur's repeated, almost literal-sounding references to "souls". Although he does vaguely support the idea of such a phenomenon, he certainly doesn't believe it in any way affecting day to day life.]

Anything's fine, really, I don't mind--[He's referring to both the breakfast before him and the general idea of being treated like a research subject: He's been treated as anything from a moderately high-level freak to be ignored as diplomatically as possible and an invaluable resource with his nation's entire fate on his shoulders. Subject of friendly research is a rather new and refreshing role.]--Um,

[evenburnssouls]

How so do you mean? There's hardly any other way to talk about them. [He's never run into someone who didn't have at least some belief in the soul, so he's unsure about what Matthew... er... Canada means by that, and it shows in his tone.

Regardless, that has no bearing on how he prepares Canada's tea, and so two of the little cream packets and a dollop of honey are added to one cup before he stirs, not once clinking spoon against the porcelain. That cup is handed to Canada, while his receives one cube of sugar and a squeeze of lemon before he retires to his seat.]

[gavethemwhatfor]

Well, you keep mentioning them like... I mean how can you talk about them at all? Like, I guess you can say "she's got a really pure soul" or "he's got practically no soul at all", or something like that... but it's kind of a figure of speech? Even if people have souls -- and I guess there's no reason they couldn't, it would make sense -- but there's no way to really sense them or look at them or anything, is there?

[He calmly takes his tea and blows on it to cool it; he doesn't want to burn his tongue, which he's a little worried about doing, and he's got to get to buttering his scones. He runs the knife over both the scones meticulously, making sure it goes on smoothly. They really do look fine, maybe they won't taste so bad after all.]