APH: Word Games ((RussiaxAmerica Challenge))
Sooo.... I have a challenge for you, fellow Russiamerica writers! >:3
Let's play a word game! I'll start by writing a random paragraph (or two) about whatever Russiamerica-ey thing comes to mind, and the next reader will pick a word from my paragraph and reply by starting their own new paragraph (using that selected word as inspiration). The new ( Read more... )
Comments 19
Yep, looks like you've got the hang of it! :3 I'm so excited about these! It's interesting to see everyone's unique style.
*ahem* Don't mind me, now....
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Beautiful, that's what he was. America was always beautiful when they were fighting, when he was fighting in general. Russia could not deny this. The way the man's eyes held a very familiar (almost too familiar) look to them... When the sky blue seems to freeze to snowy shadows. When dark purple blossomed across his skin, and he only smiled and laughed at the stinging of his bruised skin.
"What was that? Can't ya do better than that?!"
He could, but why ruin a good thing? If he just kept this going as long as he could, then he could bask in the beauty that is America. As the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth in their harsh kisses as teeth gnashed and fist flew. As they started to fight in a different way that always seemed to lead to awkward mornings... ultimately to fighting again. It truly was a wonderful cycle in Ivan's point of view.
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Alfred swore under his breath as he looked at the lump in the bed next to him. Of all people to end up sleeping with, it just had to be the Russki bastard, didn't it? The blonde nation sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering how the hell he could get out of this one. Well, no use in complaining about it now. He slowly sat up, (not without wincing from his headache though), and gently put Ivan's arm back on his chest, slowly inching himself away from the sleeping nation.
".....Christ on a bike." He muttered under his breath as he sat on the edge of the bed, looking for his pants. Alfred finally found them and proceeded to put them on, when he felt an arm slide around his waist and pull him back. Ivan smiled with sleepy eyes and tsked.
"Where do you think you're going, Amerika?"
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"So there are really no bike riding bears in Siberia?" America asked Russia as they watched a polar bear at one of America's zoo swim about it's pond lazily.
"Only in the circus. Bears do not ride bikes naturally." Russia answered, his eyes roaming over to the penguin exhibit.
"Oh okay. It's just on 'Family Guy' they went to Russia and all the Russian citizens were bears on unicycles and I know that's not what it's like over there, because I've been there a few times, but I got to thinking we had to come up with that from somewhere, so I thought maybe there was a Russian bear on a bike once and then I thought maybe you had trained all your bears to ride them in case of invasion or something." America prattled off as he tugged on Russia's sleeve to get him to follow him towards a vending machine.
Russia would have worried about America's sanity but was more interested in the different flavors of Pepsi available in the machine before them.
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"I made cocktails!" America calls when Russia arrives at his house, and something about it makes Russia's heart sink. It sinks further when he is presented with a bright pink, fizzing... thing, with something yellow floating in it. Further investigation reveals that the taste is worse than the appearance. He claims to like it though - without enthusiasm - and asks the contents. Which turn out to be soda, vodka and sunflower petals, because 'they like those things!'
He just sighs.
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