Family Ties [Part 18]
Title: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Wales, Israel, America, Canada, Mexico, England, Ireland. And then, Scotland, France, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Syria, Palestine, Iraq, Iran, Turkey.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Swearing as usual, Middle Eastern politics, OC overload.
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
The next person that called Wales at three in the morning was going to perish in the most horrible way he could imagine. Maybe they could revive the “hang, draw and quarter’d” method.
His mobile was in his jacket pocket, which was hung over the back of a nearby chair, but was ringing so insistent that he rolled out of bed with a grumble and dug around until he found it.
“Hello?”
A rush of static met him first, and he held the phone away from his ear, until a voice broke through.
“What the hell did you idiots do!”
Wales blinked the sleep from his eyes, shocked awake. “Israel?”
“No, Moses. Of course it’s me! Who else would call when it’s the middle of the night where you are?!”
“A surprising amount of people. What’s going on?”
“I’m being invaded! By everyone! Again!” there was a distinctive sound of gunfire in the background, though whether it was at Israel or from Israel, Wales couldn’t tell.
“How is this directly our fault?” Wales frowned, walking into his slippers to go find America. He was the one usually dealing is Israel these days.
“They said it’s a pre-emptive strike because you’re gonna invade them first! Why’d you have to bring the fight here, huh?! I’ve not restocked from the last war yet!” Wales couldn’t remember when the last war was, probably a fortnight ago or something, but was instead more concerned with the other details Israel had revealed.
“They knew?” he uttered, stopped in the hallway. He had to hold the phone away from his ear as an explosion blasted through the speakers. Israel came back, sounding even more exasperated.
“Duh they knew! Not that they need legit excuses to try and wipe me off the planet, but that’s what the guys I asked information off said.” He huffed. Darren doubted Jacob had ‘asked’ so much as ‘forced’, but that wasn’t the current problem.
“How’d they find out?”
“That’s why I’m calling you, mefager!” the boy roared over the sound of gunfire. “Get America up and to work or I’m calling my mother!” The sound cut out there, Israel having hung up. The comparative silence left room for Wales to wonder quietly, before America sleepily poked his head out of the door.
“Wazzat? I heard my name… why’re you standing in the hall, Wales?”
Darren frowned, folding his arms. “America, we have trouble.”
It was such a nice dream. He and Kumajiro were lazing about on a grassy hill, having just finished off a picnic of pancakes with maple syrup. Sure, the sky was purple and the grass was orange, but through the power of dream-logic, Canada found nothing strange about it at all.
Hey, were those storm clouds in the distance?
Canada, whispered the wind, and the Nation sat up. The whole sky was suddenly dark with clouds. Kumajiro was gone. Canada, wake up.
He pouted. He didn’t want to. It was a nice dream.
Canada.
Why couldn’t he have a nice dream? Was it too much to ask? And why would anyone actually pay enough attention to him to wake him up. The one time he wanted to be forgotten so he could sleep, he got this-
Canada!
“Go away!” He yelled at the clouds. In response, they cracked with thunder. Loud thunder. That sounded a lot like-
“MATTIE, WAKE UP!”
“Gah!” Canada sat up so fast that he nearly collided heads with his brother, who was now apparently done with yelling in his ear. “What?! Jesus H. Christ, what eh?!”
“How long has your house been bugged by the commies!” America shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at him, making Matthew go cross-eyed.
“Are you possessed by the spirit of McCarthy or what?” he grumbled, turning to go back to sleep before his shoulder was grabbed by Wales.
“We’re serious, boyo.” He rumbled, at least polite enough to keep his voice low at the late hour. Early hour. Whatever. “Someone found out we were going to attack the Middle East, and ambushed Israel.” Canada’s eyes widened.
“Wait, what?!” He swung his legs out of bed, unrepentant for accidentally kicking Alfred on the way to it. “But my house is secure!”
“Well obviously it’s not.” America countered, rubbing at his eyes. He looked a lot younger without his glasses on. More tired. “Geez, can’t even plan an invasion these days without another one happening in response.”
“What’s all the racket?” grumbled Mexico, sauntering into the room in her night-clothes. She was wearing Al’s glasses.
“Israel’s been attacked.” Wales intoned, and María snorted.
“What else is new?”
“Hey, those are mine!” Alfred finally caught on, snatching at Mexico’s face, who dodged, laughing.
“Haha! Texas is mine once more!”
“Oh no you don’t!”
“Will you two please grow up for just a second?!” England raged, striding into the room and breaking the siblings apart. America crowed triumphantly and snatched the glasses at the last minute, jamming them onto his face.
“Win!”
“I hate you.” Mexico pouted. England rolled his eyes.
“I could hear you through the wall. We need to act before Israel starts shooting nukes.” He said, pulling his dressing gown closer around him. “America, you get back on the phone to him and tell him that we’ll move in as soon as we can to help him. Canada, you send a message to the armies to get ready for move out in the morning? Wales, we need to contact our people. Mexico, are you sure you’re still in?”
“What, and miss all the fun?” she grinned. Arthur’s lip twitched up.
“Right. I’ll go wake up Ireland.” He nodded, and turned to the door. He didn’t even need to go three paces before his sister appeared in the hall. “Oh, good timing Aine-”
She cut over him, eyes wide. “I can’t find North!”
-----
“I really hate the fucking desert.” Grumbled Scotland, wiping the sweat off his brow. Sunburn was encroaching, sunscreen or not.
“You’ve said that nine times now, cher.” France said airily, passing the redhead a bottle of water. James poured more on his head than he did drink it.
“Tis no less true now than it was before.” He shot the blonde a look, wondering at how France could still work an army uniform like it was the next big fashion. “Just because ye’re used to it, French Foreign Legion and all.”
Francis chuckled. “It's been a while since I came out here myself. Hm, I almost forgot all the places sand could end up.”
“Yuck. Sick.” But James grinned anyway. “At least Russia’s faring even worse. I don’t think he’s left his tent yet.”
“Rather unsuited to desert warfare, non? I don’t know why he insisted we come down here to support the Arabs.”
“Is it not because you missed us?” asked Saudi Arabia, no veil on to cover the twitch of her lips. Flashes of gold earrings appeared from under her hijab, and her gold nose stud reflected the sun directly into Scotland’s eyes. He squinted.
“But of course I missed you, cherie.” France said with flourish, kissing her hand and one of the many rings on her fingers. She giggled and smacked him lightly on the cheek. Scotland’s squint had turned into something more of a glare.
“Flattery will get you nowhere with me.” She chided. “Wiping that upstart boy off the map, maybe.” France shrugged.
“I will do what I can.” He winked. “Though shouldn’t you thank us for giving you the opportunity in the first place?”
Scotland rolled his eyes as Saudi Arabia laughed again. Jordan chose this moment to wander over. “Khalidah, when do I move my troops in again?” he worried his bottom lip.
“Aren’t you over anxious.” The Arab smiled. “At thirteen hundred hours, clear?”
He nodded, eager. “I’ll go inform Sudan! He’s just got through talking to Egypt. We’ll get him on our side eventually.”
“Doubt it, he and the land stealing bastard were pretty chummy recently.” Called Palestine, carrying a crate of ammo on his shoulder. France not-so-subtly placed Scotland between them, but luckily Palestine just carried on his way, grinning to himself. Probably thinking about blowing Jacob to pieces with whatever he was carrying.
“What do we do if Egypt is a traitor?” came a soft voice, making nearly everyone jump. Syria was a stealthy young man like that.
“You mean, if he joins America?” Jordan queried, then winced as there was a shriek of ‘invasive, obsessive, paranoid western stalker-bastard!’ from Iraq’s general direction, over in the shade of the tent. Iran patted her on the shoulder comfortingly.
“If he opts out like Afghanistan, we won’t hurt him. He’s still our brother.” Saudi Arabia considered aloud while Jordan and Syria exchanged a look at the mention of their more eastern cousin. That was an awkward topic. “But if he decides to side with the others- what are they even calling themselves?”
“Probably something stupid like ‘Team Hero’, knowing America.” Scotland shrugged. Saudi Arabia giggled.
“How about ‘Team Let’s-Steal-Some-Oil’!” sneered Iraq. The tone was only visible in her voice; she had her veil on today, a decision that had been made when she heard France was coming.
“Team ‘Rush In With No Plan’?” Iran guessed, tilting her head curiously.
Jordan shook his head. “Whatever. I bet they haven’t even come up with one yet, what with their politicians still trying to get the people behind it. Though,” he frowned, folding his arms. “Don’t the people need to behind it in the first place for us as Nations to feel it? Is it even possible for us to-”
“Shut up, I don’t need that Greek bastard on my hands today.” Grumbled Turkey, stepping out from inside Russia’s tent, fanning himself with one hand. “Geez, Russia’s tent is cold compared to out here. But I’ll tell you what, his Boss knows how to handle things. Did you see that news segment?”
“Dubai practically shoved her iPhone into my face, so yes.” Saudi Arabia commented dryly. “He’s charismatic, I’ll give him that.”
“Aye, he is. The dangerous kind of charismatic.” Scotland agreed, nodding. France hummed in agreement.
“But then, Russia is used to having dangerous politicians, is he not?”
“As long at his icy hands don’t try to reach down here, I don’t give a shit.” Turkey replied nonchalantly. Syria made a grossed out face, quickly followed by the others.
“Oh, ew.”
“Too much information, Sadiq.”
“Never needed to know that.”
“I wonder if Allah will wipe my mind clear of that image in an act of mercy?”
“I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff-”
“Shut up! All of you!” Turkey yelled, the redness of his face probably not having much to do with the sun. The others snickered. “Geez, we’ll get our information when they actually decide, thanks to Russia’s… dunno what to call it. Technique? He’s a sick bastard, whatever.”
“And you like it like that, don’t you?” poked Saudi Arabia, grinning. Turkey continued to splutter indignantly.
Scotland was seeing weird parallels everywhere. Was this what people meant by stereotypical family arguments? Since when was his family stereotypical?
... and when had he started missing them?
Notes (overload!):
-"Hung, drawn and quartered": The British were creative in how they executed people they really, really didn't like. First, the person was hung, but taken down before they were fully dead. Then they were strapped to two horses and dragged through the streets, which were usually stony and very nasty. People were allowed to throw rocks at them etc, as long as it didn't kill them. Then they were taken to the Tower, and had all their limbs cut off, were disemboweled and (still alive) shown their insides. Anyone accused of treason got the extra bonus option of having their head cut off and stuck on a pike along London Bridge. 8D Let nobody say we're uncreative people.
- Israel calls Wales "mefager", which as far as I can remember means "idiot" or "moron". You can't blame the kid for being a little high strung since, you know, he's being invaded.
- Saudi Arabia's name is Khalidah, which means Immortal. I like my irony.
- So big things are happening in Afghanistan like right now, and I do not have the power of clairvoyance to see how that'll turn out so... yeah. Neutral until proven commie? *shot*
- Despite the fact that, in the beginning, Egypt and Israel were decidedly not friends, there hasn't been a war between them for quite a while now. Which is good. I figure Mama!Israel had a chat...
- Anyone unaware of the French Foreign Legion has clearly never read TinTin and therefore has had an incomplete childhood. Google that stuff. It's amusing.
- Palestine does NOT like Israel. Mostly because Israel is cheerfully sitting on where Palestine's land used to be. Because England fails at negotiations.
- Thing is with the Middle Eastern Nations, there's always been this sense of family. One Muslim nation looks out for the other, though yes, fights happen. It just works like that. It baffles Europeans, who all share the same religion and slaughter each other regardless.
- Dubai is like one of the richest countries in the world. Yes, I know the iPhone will probably be defunct in 10 years time, stfu. It's just meant to represent wealth *sob*. Similarly, Saudi Arabia has lots of jewelery because she's rich in oil.
- A Hijab is that sort of wimple thing that Muslim women wear, but can also refer to modest clothing in general. The veil is optional, and while it is enforced by some families, many chose to wear it because they feel safer. France is a lech. So.. yeah.
Part 19
Characters (in this chapter): Wales, Israel, America, Canada, Mexico, England, Ireland. And then, Scotland, France, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Syria, Palestine, Iraq, Iran, Turkey.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Swearing as usual, Middle Eastern politics, OC overload.
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
The next person that called Wales at three in the morning was going to perish in the most horrible way he could imagine. Maybe they could revive the “hang, draw and quarter’d” method.
His mobile was in his jacket pocket, which was hung over the back of a nearby chair, but was ringing so insistent that he rolled out of bed with a grumble and dug around until he found it.
“Hello?”
A rush of static met him first, and he held the phone away from his ear, until a voice broke through.
“What the hell did you idiots do!”
Wales blinked the sleep from his eyes, shocked awake. “Israel?”
“No, Moses. Of course it’s me! Who else would call when it’s the middle of the night where you are?!”
“A surprising amount of people. What’s going on?”
“I’m being invaded! By everyone! Again!” there was a distinctive sound of gunfire in the background, though whether it was at Israel or from Israel, Wales couldn’t tell.
“How is this directly our fault?” Wales frowned, walking into his slippers to go find America. He was the one usually dealing is Israel these days.
“They said it’s a pre-emptive strike because you’re gonna invade them first! Why’d you have to bring the fight here, huh?! I’ve not restocked from the last war yet!” Wales couldn’t remember when the last war was, probably a fortnight ago or something, but was instead more concerned with the other details Israel had revealed.
“They knew?” he uttered, stopped in the hallway. He had to hold the phone away from his ear as an explosion blasted through the speakers. Israel came back, sounding even more exasperated.
“Duh they knew! Not that they need legit excuses to try and wipe me off the planet, but that’s what the guys I asked information off said.” He huffed. Darren doubted Jacob had ‘asked’ so much as ‘forced’, but that wasn’t the current problem.
“How’d they find out?”
“That’s why I’m calling you, mefager!” the boy roared over the sound of gunfire. “Get America up and to work or I’m calling my mother!” The sound cut out there, Israel having hung up. The comparative silence left room for Wales to wonder quietly, before America sleepily poked his head out of the door.
“Wazzat? I heard my name… why’re you standing in the hall, Wales?”
Darren frowned, folding his arms. “America, we have trouble.”
It was such a nice dream. He and Kumajiro were lazing about on a grassy hill, having just finished off a picnic of pancakes with maple syrup. Sure, the sky was purple and the grass was orange, but through the power of dream-logic, Canada found nothing strange about it at all.
Hey, were those storm clouds in the distance?
Canada, whispered the wind, and the Nation sat up. The whole sky was suddenly dark with clouds. Kumajiro was gone. Canada, wake up.
He pouted. He didn’t want to. It was a nice dream.
Canada.
Why couldn’t he have a nice dream? Was it too much to ask? And why would anyone actually pay enough attention to him to wake him up. The one time he wanted to be forgotten so he could sleep, he got this-
Canada!
“Go away!” He yelled at the clouds. In response, they cracked with thunder. Loud thunder. That sounded a lot like-
“MATTIE, WAKE UP!”
“Gah!” Canada sat up so fast that he nearly collided heads with his brother, who was now apparently done with yelling in his ear. “What?! Jesus H. Christ, what eh?!”
“How long has your house been bugged by the commies!” America shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at him, making Matthew go cross-eyed.
“Are you possessed by the spirit of McCarthy or what?” he grumbled, turning to go back to sleep before his shoulder was grabbed by Wales.
“We’re serious, boyo.” He rumbled, at least polite enough to keep his voice low at the late hour. Early hour. Whatever. “Someone found out we were going to attack the Middle East, and ambushed Israel.” Canada’s eyes widened.
“Wait, what?!” He swung his legs out of bed, unrepentant for accidentally kicking Alfred on the way to it. “But my house is secure!”
“Well obviously it’s not.” America countered, rubbing at his eyes. He looked a lot younger without his glasses on. More tired. “Geez, can’t even plan an invasion these days without another one happening in response.”
“What’s all the racket?” grumbled Mexico, sauntering into the room in her night-clothes. She was wearing Al’s glasses.
“Israel’s been attacked.” Wales intoned, and María snorted.
“What else is new?”
“Hey, those are mine!” Alfred finally caught on, snatching at Mexico’s face, who dodged, laughing.
“Haha! Texas is mine once more!”
“Oh no you don’t!”
“Will you two please grow up for just a second?!” England raged, striding into the room and breaking the siblings apart. America crowed triumphantly and snatched the glasses at the last minute, jamming them onto his face.
“Win!”
“I hate you.” Mexico pouted. England rolled his eyes.
“I could hear you through the wall. We need to act before Israel starts shooting nukes.” He said, pulling his dressing gown closer around him. “America, you get back on the phone to him and tell him that we’ll move in as soon as we can to help him. Canada, you send a message to the armies to get ready for move out in the morning? Wales, we need to contact our people. Mexico, are you sure you’re still in?”
“What, and miss all the fun?” she grinned. Arthur’s lip twitched up.
“Right. I’ll go wake up Ireland.” He nodded, and turned to the door. He didn’t even need to go three paces before his sister appeared in the hall. “Oh, good timing Aine-”
She cut over him, eyes wide. “I can’t find North!”
-----
“I really hate the fucking desert.” Grumbled Scotland, wiping the sweat off his brow. Sunburn was encroaching, sunscreen or not.
“You’ve said that nine times now, cher.” France said airily, passing the redhead a bottle of water. James poured more on his head than he did drink it.
“Tis no less true now than it was before.” He shot the blonde a look, wondering at how France could still work an army uniform like it was the next big fashion. “Just because ye’re used to it, French Foreign Legion and all.”
Francis chuckled. “It's been a while since I came out here myself. Hm, I almost forgot all the places sand could end up.”
“Yuck. Sick.” But James grinned anyway. “At least Russia’s faring even worse. I don’t think he’s left his tent yet.”
“Rather unsuited to desert warfare, non? I don’t know why he insisted we come down here to support the Arabs.”
“Is it not because you missed us?” asked Saudi Arabia, no veil on to cover the twitch of her lips. Flashes of gold earrings appeared from under her hijab, and her gold nose stud reflected the sun directly into Scotland’s eyes. He squinted.
“But of course I missed you, cherie.” France said with flourish, kissing her hand and one of the many rings on her fingers. She giggled and smacked him lightly on the cheek. Scotland’s squint had turned into something more of a glare.
“Flattery will get you nowhere with me.” She chided. “Wiping that upstart boy off the map, maybe.” France shrugged.
“I will do what I can.” He winked. “Though shouldn’t you thank us for giving you the opportunity in the first place?”
Scotland rolled his eyes as Saudi Arabia laughed again. Jordan chose this moment to wander over. “Khalidah, when do I move my troops in again?” he worried his bottom lip.
“Aren’t you over anxious.” The Arab smiled. “At thirteen hundred hours, clear?”
He nodded, eager. “I’ll go inform Sudan! He’s just got through talking to Egypt. We’ll get him on our side eventually.”
“Doubt it, he and the land stealing bastard were pretty chummy recently.” Called Palestine, carrying a crate of ammo on his shoulder. France not-so-subtly placed Scotland between them, but luckily Palestine just carried on his way, grinning to himself. Probably thinking about blowing Jacob to pieces with whatever he was carrying.
“What do we do if Egypt is a traitor?” came a soft voice, making nearly everyone jump. Syria was a stealthy young man like that.
“You mean, if he joins America?” Jordan queried, then winced as there was a shriek of ‘invasive, obsessive, paranoid western stalker-bastard!’ from Iraq’s general direction, over in the shade of the tent. Iran patted her on the shoulder comfortingly.
“If he opts out like Afghanistan, we won’t hurt him. He’s still our brother.” Saudi Arabia considered aloud while Jordan and Syria exchanged a look at the mention of their more eastern cousin. That was an awkward topic. “But if he decides to side with the others- what are they even calling themselves?”
“Probably something stupid like ‘Team Hero’, knowing America.” Scotland shrugged. Saudi Arabia giggled.
“How about ‘Team Let’s-Steal-Some-Oil’!” sneered Iraq. The tone was only visible in her voice; she had her veil on today, a decision that had been made when she heard France was coming.
“Team ‘Rush In With No Plan’?” Iran guessed, tilting her head curiously.
Jordan shook his head. “Whatever. I bet they haven’t even come up with one yet, what with their politicians still trying to get the people behind it. Though,” he frowned, folding his arms. “Don’t the people need to behind it in the first place for us as Nations to feel it? Is it even possible for us to-”
“Shut up, I don’t need that Greek bastard on my hands today.” Grumbled Turkey, stepping out from inside Russia’s tent, fanning himself with one hand. “Geez, Russia’s tent is cold compared to out here. But I’ll tell you what, his Boss knows how to handle things. Did you see that news segment?”
“Dubai practically shoved her iPhone into my face, so yes.” Saudi Arabia commented dryly. “He’s charismatic, I’ll give him that.”
“Aye, he is. The dangerous kind of charismatic.” Scotland agreed, nodding. France hummed in agreement.
“But then, Russia is used to having dangerous politicians, is he not?”
“As long at his icy hands don’t try to reach down here, I don’t give a shit.” Turkey replied nonchalantly. Syria made a grossed out face, quickly followed by the others.
“Oh, ew.”
“Too much information, Sadiq.”
“Never needed to know that.”
“I wonder if Allah will wipe my mind clear of that image in an act of mercy?”
“I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff-”
“Shut up! All of you!” Turkey yelled, the redness of his face probably not having much to do with the sun. The others snickered. “Geez, we’ll get our information when they actually decide, thanks to Russia’s… dunno what to call it. Technique? He’s a sick bastard, whatever.”
“And you like it like that, don’t you?” poked Saudi Arabia, grinning. Turkey continued to splutter indignantly.
Scotland was seeing weird parallels everywhere. Was this what people meant by stereotypical family arguments? Since when was his family stereotypical?
... and when had he started missing them?
Notes (overload!):
-"Hung, drawn and quartered": The British were creative in how they executed people they really, really didn't like. First, the person was hung, but taken down before they were fully dead. Then they were strapped to two horses and dragged through the streets, which were usually stony and very nasty. People were allowed to throw rocks at them etc, as long as it didn't kill them. Then they were taken to the Tower, and had all their limbs cut off, were disemboweled and (still alive) shown their insides. Anyone accused of treason got the extra bonus option of having their head cut off and stuck on a pike along London Bridge. 8D Let nobody say we're uncreative people.
- Israel calls Wales "mefager", which as far as I can remember means "idiot" or "moron". You can't blame the kid for being a little high strung since, you know, he's being invaded.
- Saudi Arabia's name is Khalidah, which means Immortal. I like my irony.
- So big things are happening in Afghanistan like right now, and I do not have the power of clairvoyance to see how that'll turn out so... yeah. Neutral until proven commie? *shot*
- Despite the fact that, in the beginning, Egypt and Israel were decidedly not friends, there hasn't been a war between them for quite a while now. Which is good. I figure Mama!Israel had a chat...
- Anyone unaware of the French Foreign Legion has clearly never read TinTin and therefore has had an incomplete childhood. Google that stuff. It's amusing.
- Palestine does NOT like Israel. Mostly because Israel is cheerfully sitting on where Palestine's land used to be. Because England fails at negotiations.
- Thing is with the Middle Eastern Nations, there's always been this sense of family. One Muslim nation looks out for the other, though yes, fights happen. It just works like that. It baffles Europeans, who all share the same religion and slaughter each other regardless.
- Dubai is like one of the richest countries in the world. Yes, I know the iPhone will probably be defunct in 10 years time, stfu. It's just meant to represent wealth *sob*. Similarly, Saudi Arabia has lots of jewelery because she's rich in oil.
- A Hijab is that sort of wimple thing that Muslim women wear, but can also refer to modest clothing in general. The veil is optional, and while it is enforced by some families, many chose to wear it because they feel safer. France is a lech. So.. yeah.
Part 19