Characters: Yylfordt Grantz and the poor suckers he foists his poetry onto
Status: Open like your mom, bro
Summary: Yylfordt has the soul of a poet! Sure, that's because he ate it but whatever. And he wants to share, especially now that he gets chips for it. And if you make fun of his poetry or the fact that he stole the idea from Luppi then he'll
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What?
[His voice was tinged with annoyed frustration, a frown already forming on his lips. The nation wasn't really in a good mood at the moment.]
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Humans.]
This is for you.
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Not exactly what Yylfordt categorised him as, but close. Nonetheless, his eyes stared at the crumpled paper handed out to him, then giving the other another glance, snatched and unfurled it to read.]
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( ... )
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Fucking me will not make me smile.
[That piece of paper? Now re-crumpled into a tight ball and tossed back at the man. He wasn't going to just simply have sex with anyone.]
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You just haven't been fucked by the right person.
[ie: HIM.
His laughter doesn't even stop when Belarus crumples up the poem he worked so hard on and throws it at him. He looks like a guy enjoying a good time until he speeds through the air between them, standing directly in front of Belarus, almost chest-to-chest with him. He draws his arm back and swings - keeping in mind that this is a human and if he hit him at full strength, it would probably kill him. He didn't want to do that. He just wanted to fuck with him a little.]
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He didn't even see the man and was caught off-guard by his movements, bringing his arms up just in the nick of time to block the other's attack. He staggered a few times to the side, though he managed stay his ground. Belarus was no human but a nation, although he was still susceptible to injuries, except with better resistance compared to mortals.
The nation had no idea why he received such a reaction, but he wasn't going to care about it now as he immediately turned around on his heels and aimed his elbow at him.]
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You aren't very good at this, are you? Fist figh. Fistfight. You punch, you don't try to elbow someone. C'mon.
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He tugged his arm back from the other's grip, and a punch is now aimed at the tender side of Yylfordt's mid-section.]
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Well, it's better than I thought you'd do.
[There's nothing like talking down to someone you're fighting to if you want to piss 'em off. He's sure it'll work now, just as it's worked before.]
But it isn't good enough.
[And Yylfordt swings his fist again.]
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Of course, one way to provoke others was through physical means. The nation glared back at him, eyes narrowed at the lack of effect his punch had on the other man. He must have weakened these past months before arriving here.
Rather than replying, Belarus merely side-stepped and lowered his body, then made to pounce at Yylfordt. If he was quick enough, he'll have him pinned down. If not, well, he'll just make his next move.]
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