lostrealm | Kriegserklärung

Prussia was outside, smoking, and also keeping an eye out for England, when he spotted his brother. Excellent. If West weren't already on the warpath -something Prussia doubted, considering how agitated the younger nation looked- then it should be easy enough to bring him around to the cause of island hunting. So instead of his usual exuberant greeting, the Prussian merely moved from the wall he leaned against and fell into step alongside Germany. "So."

"Hn." was Germany's initial reply. Even if this was the first time that they actually met in person since coming here, that also was as much of a greeting Germany was going to give.

Germany was aware just what was nagging his brother. It was more or less the same thing that had Germany as upset as he was after all.

"He wants us locked away."

"Well, if he's gonna make a fuss about that, then maybe we oughta give 'em a real reason to lock us up. Since far as I can tell, he's got a lot of people listening to him," Prussia muses around his cigarette. He looks more thoughtful than murderous as he continues. "So let's beat the asshole's face in."

"Nein. We won't give them a reason to do that. Because he has several people listening to his nonsense." Germany replied with a disapproving snort "Teaching him a lesson for his slander, however, I agree with. But we're not giving any of the locals here a reason to further pay him any mind."

"Okay, Wessie, how exactly do you intend to teach him a lesson? 'Cause all the methods I can think of might get us in trouble if he goes complaining." Prussia arches his eyebrows pointedly, finally taking the cigarette from his mouth.

"He won't dare to do so when we're done with him." there is a faint snort "Besides, this is merely a reaction to him attempting to brand us as criminals for no apparent reason. A matter of pride. Something I doubt England has ever had anyway. So if he decides to whine anyway and people ask... I'll handle them."

That actually makes Prussia halt entirely to look at his brother a moment, before he resumes walking. "Fine then. Even if I'm the older of us... " He drops the remainder of his cigarette, stamping on it as he walks to extinguish the tip. Now that that's settled, all they need to do is find the troublemaking island they speak of.

Germanycast his brother a remotely quizzical look at that response "I didn't think you were up for diplomatic talks, brother." he didn't quite see what their ages had to do with this. They were both adults after all...

"If you want to talk to them, fine. But let's find England first.He probably hides somewhere again."

The trouble-making island, in fact, knew he was making trouble. England wasn't stupid. Scare-tactics, propaganda, whatever you called it... All the countries did it, didn't they? At the same time, he was concerned about the people here, strangers they may be. He felt it was his duty to at least warn them of what had happened at home. As much as Germany wanted to make out that what he'd done were not his decisions, he'd still done them, and all England wanted was for people to keep an eye out for him. He wasn't telling the residents to barricade their doors or shoot the man when they saw him. What was wrong with being cautious? Hitler wasn't here, but he still shared some feelings with Germany. At least, that was what England believed.

If he were to suffer at Germany's hands, and he expected he would, he figured that was better than them hurting other people, people like Willow or Arturia. He was prepared for that, some sort of martyrdom.

But there was definitely something else going on underneath this guise of wanting to keep the people protected; England was scared. He was in a strange world with no leader and no connection to his citizens. He didn't even know if England, the country, actually existed in this world. So what would become of him or his powers while he was here? His magic was already weakened, and he certainly did not have the authority here that he did back home.

America had nothing to do with this, and England was insulted that Germany would even bring up such a thing. Those comments were what prompted England to get upset in the first place. Now all he wanted to do was to prove his strength. He was older, wiser, and had more experience. And for that little upstart to walk in and claim he was weak was absolutely unacceptable. He had had lit a fire under England's boots. Germany deserved whatever happened to him in this world.

England hated him, with every fiber of his being, and he hated Prussia for helping him.

At the time, England was reading through some documents about Darstone. He was coming to understand the history of the world and what had exactly happened here. It was getting dark, and he had a little magical bauble of light hovering in front of his face so he could read while he walked back to his flat.

He had an ill-feeling in his gut, like he knew something bad was about to happen. Then again, he hadn't been feeling well since he'd gotten here, or even before that. As impossible as it seemed, England was determined to try and get some sleep that night.

Edited 2012-08-24 21:27 (UTC)

After their little conversation, the German brothers had resumed their search for England in silence. Which is really something that might seem remarkable so far as Prussia is concerned, that he can possibly be silent, However, one does not become a feared military power without knowing something of tactics. So when he spots that small orb of light bobbing in front of England, he merely gestures for Germany to halt.

There are a few more hand motions that follow, suggesting they flank the island and attempt to take him by surprise before England gets too much closer to the residential building or any other more populous areas. (Well, the gesturing isn't quite so meaningful. It rather cuts off after he does the signal meaning ambush. Still, he'd like to think that Germany gets why they want to follow Prussia's plan.)

Germany has known his brother long enough as to know what tactics he favored in what situation. Prussia had taught him after all. He didn't even bother to nod or give any other sign that he had understood but simply dodged away to the side into a small alley, whose shadows would offer a decent cover.

This was going to get simpler than expected.

Edited 2012-08-27 10:04 (UTC)

Sure, ambushing was simpler. Did not mean it was fair. Of course, that didn't matter in war. But if Prussia and Germany thought they were going to outwit a country who was a great spy, they had another thing coming.

As soon as England heard near-silent footsteps off in the distance, he slowed his pace. He was already on high-alert, already second-guessing every place he stepped his foot. He brought his hand up to blink out the light.

"If you're going to sneak up on me, you'll have to do a better job than that. Deutschland."

It hardly surprises him that their cover has been blown, but judging by England's words it seems they still have an opportunity to throw the island off guard. So Prussia steps from the shadows that obscure him, deliberately making his footfalls heavy to mask any further movements Germany makes. "Try Preußen." He continues walking towards England, curving his path in a gambit to herd him towards Germany should England try to run. "What? You thought you were gonna get away with insulting me? That Germany was the only one out to make you pay? Tsk tsk tsk; you really are past your prime..." Thr goal is, of course, to goad England into acting without thinking rationally.

England was surprised to hear Prussia's voice, though he shouldn't have been. After all, he'd been trying to piss Prussia off intentionally. That was what happened when he got angry. He stayed put for the time being, didn't let his guard down.

"You say that, and yet here you are. You must be afraid of me if you're planning on taking me out."

"Me? Afraid? Kesesese! As if!" Prussia laughs obnoxiously, stopping a few feet from England. He gestures as he speaks, hiding a signal for Germany to continue his advance. "You just pissed me off. I want revenge. No one insults me like that and gets away with it."

That cocky laugh. England could just slug Prussia for doing it. At least now Prussia had England's full attention. The shorter country frowned deeply and then turned his nose up.

"You're just a sore loser. You insult people all the time! Besides, I was only saying the truth."

While Prussia kept England distracted, Germany went around the two of them in a wide arc so he ended up approaching the island from his back. The signals his brother gave him weren't entirely necessary, but the younger nation still paid attention to them.

It was as soon as he was close enough to their prey to be able to get a hold of England or knock him over the back of his head with easy and without being noticed that Germany halted his advance and remained entirely still. Granted, Prussia was pretty good at irritating people.

Irritating people is just another method of doing diplomacy well, as Prussia feels the entire point of diplomacy is to ultimately get what you want with as few concessions to conflicting interests as possible. Thus, he has practised the art of annoying people into doing what he wants.

Now, to really set England off, since he sees Germany in place. "Then maybe I'll return the favour. Tell this place about the sad, pathetic little island who plays at being an empire but needs his rebellious former colony to come save his sorry ass. I mean, you're just all about honesty, aren't you? So let's show this city how bitter you are that you've lost your..." He pauses, glances at England's vital regions. "Strength. If you were really oh so concerned about the citizens here you'd have taken me out yourself, but you can't do that, can you?" The implication, naturally, being that England doesn't have the balls to do anything but make vague warnings.

Come on. Someone do something before he gives up and just tries to shoot England. Prussia's temperament does not in any way make him able to just insult for long.

If Prussia played his cards right, England wouldn't need to be broken into a million pieces. After all, physical wounds healed, mental ones did not. And each thing Prussia says is like one dagger hitting him after another.

He didn't need America he didn't need America England did not fucking need America.

He got what he wanted, and that was a moving England. The island growls and steps forward, ready to rip Prussia's face off.

"You son of a...!"

The moment England chose to move was the moment Germany stepped forward as well, gathering a bit speed before stopping directly behind the island with a deliberately audible shuffle of his boots to finally catch England's attention and hopefully make him attempt to look back.

Using the momentum he still had, the German quickly spun on one foot to gather up a decent amount of force when bringing up his other leg and aim the heavy heel of his boot at the side of England's head with a force that might easily throw the other nation off his feet. Thus the hope England would turn around before the actual impact. Because breaking his nose while sending him into the nearby stone wall was a much more satisfying scenario than simply cracking his skull.

It was a horrible sound, not the sound of cartilage popping, but the sound of someone sneaking up on you from behind. England had already lost at that point. How could he have let himself fall into such an obvious trap? Sure, he'd expected Germany to hunt him down, expected to be given a good thrashing. The fact that Prussia had followed along didn't surprise him either. England should not have been shocked by any of this. And he wasn't, not really. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.

He didn't quite hit the wall, as Germany had wanted. England fell just a little short of it, but he did receive the kick to the face. He stared at the sky in a daze for several seconds, cursing himself for being so unprepared.

He has to applaud Germany on his timing, with a slow clap. Or perhaps that is for England's failure of situational awareness. "That. Was. Awesome!" Prussia crows. He'd continue, but it's apparent that their foe could still, theoretically, get up. So instead he draws his bayonet in one hand and advances, kicking at the island nation with full strength as soon as he's in range. Can't let his brother have all the fun, right?

So long as England is still stunned, he will reach down to try to haul the man to his feet, sneering the entire time. "Oh, you can't be tired already! Get up, old man."

Germany didn't exactly see how a weapon was necessary, but if his brother wanted to use the blade he wouldn't stop him. He had to contemplate for a moment, however, if his kick was lacking some power. Not much time to dwell on that either. Germany would just stay put while Prussia jerked England to his feet and have his way. The younger German spoke no word, his current anger only displayed n the way he crossed his arms and glared at England, possibly considering how many punches to aim at his face next or which limb to twist and bend against nature's will.

Why bother getting up? Just so that he could be laughed at more? Prussia called him an old man. That gutted England to the core, made him want to throw up. Thankfully, the sight of Germany approaching was enough to bring his energy back.

He stayed limp, just keeping his eyes on the big German country. "Two-on-one and bringing a weapon? That isn't very fair, is it?" He smirked, obviously implying that neither of the two were able to take care of him on their own. If England was going to be accused of hiding behind his baby brother, then so was Prussia, because that was what it looked like.

The thought made him angry enough to plant his feet on the ground and attempt to lift Prussia. His intention was to toss him into Germany in order to put some distance between them.

"All's fair in love and war~" he purrs, pushing at England to move him towards the wall. If neither of them can see how necessary a weapon is, then they just lack imagination. He traces along England's jaw with the tip of the blade-

And then ends up flailing, cutting wildly as he's lifted off the ground. Not very far, of course; England is shorter than him, among other reasons, but far enough that trying to stand tiptoe doesn't help. "H-hey! Put me down, damnit!" He even punches England to try to get released.

At which point, he learns why one ought to be very specific about what they want, as he is sent flying in Germany's direction.

Right. The British Empire is still pretty strong. Well then.

Germany remained quiet through this, watched and actually lifted a brow at England's words.

Though that moment passed quickly as a Prussian was send his way. Sure. He could have stepped aside, but that wouldn't translate well in this current situation. So rather than letting his brother fall to the floor, Germany stopped his brother's movements by getting hold of his upper arm and pulling him back into a fully upright position before finally turning towards England. In retrospect he probably was lucky that Prussia had shown up as well. It's hardly been a wekk since they got here and lost all connection to their home world and people. While that was a strange thing to deal with, it sort of came with a bit of a benefit for Germany who was hardly in any condition to fight anymore back in their world but rather struggled against collapsing in himself due to how things had turned in their war.

Here, however, he had been able to recuperate somewhat already. But he still noticed how his blows lacked some power and how his stamina was drained quicker when he wasn't careful. Which was why he was grateful for Prussia to occupy this little nuisance here. Occupy and distract him so Germany could focus on one strong blow at a time before falling back again and let his brother have his way again. They couldn't notice.

Letting go of his brother and stepping up to the isla with controlled steps, Germany finally spoke. His voice seemed calm on the outside, but there was a definite edge to it. One that implied that there were several levels hiding underneath that surface to those that knew what to listen for.

"You speak of fairness, of all people, England?" he stopped as soon as he stood directly in front of the older nation, cold blue eyes glaring mercilessly down into green ones "How about forty-five on one, then? Or how many nations have you and your brother forced to join into your little playgroup you call United Nations by now? Argentinia sure didn't declare war on me all on their own." the scowl on the German's face darkened and Germany reached out with his right hand and slowly moved it past the shorter nation's head, placing it on England's skull, just behind his ear while keeping the other's eyes trapped with his own glare "Don't try provoking us when it's apparent enough that you're scared because you already fail to beat us back home despite forcing half of the world into fighting us alongside your sorry self." With his hand where it was, he drew England's head closer while leaning down and forward a bit himself until their foreheads almost touched and the German's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper "Study the facts and figures, England. They don't tell of your glorious strength but a sad story about how you and your allies need to sacrifice millions to trample down a single enemy." the younger nation brought up his left hand now as well, placing it at the other side of England's head and keeping him there in this oddly intimate pose "Your battle tactics earn you no glory or a award for fair fighting. So watch your words."

Those words were followed by a brief pause before Germany leaned away again and suddenly gripped the other man's skull harder before forcefully jerking it downward and right towards his own knee that the younger nation kicked up hardly to increase the impact.

Edited 2012-08-31 12:43 (UTC)

These German brothers were great at distracting England. He enjoyed their company when they weren't at war. Or even if they were at war. They had stimulating(?) conversation and were very strong. They were hurting him, but, at the same time, only making him want to prove them wrong all the more. England could not lie or challenge what Germany was saying, but none of them were saints, here. All that mattered was that they were enemies.

After the impact, England's head was thrown backwards. He managed to get away from Germany, but in the form of stumbling. Fortunately, he had the wall to keep him from falling over. That was it. They wanted to play dirty, with their scathing words and weapons? Well, England would play even dirtier. He would use something they couldn't.

He pulled and pushed himself until he stood up straight as his eyes began to glow a brilliant green. "Oh, Germany. And here I thought you didn't want to bring the war here. But you certainly can't stop bringing it up." The ground around them began to shake, but already England could feel that his magic was not nearly as powerful as it was back home. It was a shame that he couldn't summon Russia right now. He would not have minded it.

For now, he settled for a simple levitation spell. Whether he lifted the countries off the ground did not matter. He was able to lift some of the surroundings, and then began hurling them at the brothers. This was mostly a distraction, for the time being.

Edited 2012-08-31 17:54 (UTC)

He doesn't thank Germany for catching him, or even acknowledge how totally awesome his little brother is, as all of these things are truths that he is certain Germany is aware of. Really, that whole thing with the talking and then the kneeing right in England's fucking face? Prussia is convinced he could hardly have improved on that himself. Pure beauty, that was.

Prussia circles around to stand just behind and to West's side, planning his next attack for once. This becomes especially critical when England casts his levitation spell, because Prussia is no idiot. The last thing he needs is to get hit on the head by a heavy rock or piece of debris, and it's obvious that England isn't aiming. Covering fire, then.

It's just a shame that combat is the specialty of Prussia. He knows he needs to move quickly. The simple fact is that if they let England take protection from his rocks, then he could build up the stamina and concentration for a more powerful attacking spell.

Or he could, you know, pull a gun. That is also a thing he could do.

Plan formed, Prussia darts in, head tucked down and an arm in front of his face to deflect anything that might fly at him. His initial steps seem to take him straight towards the centre of England's mass, the likeliest blow would be perhaps a crouched tackle into the older man's stomach or ribs. However, a quick twist, and his shoulder is connecting against England, driving him back against the wall whilst Prussia's hands find wrist and upper arm, just above the elbow.

Then he twists England's arm.

Though ordinarily he would hesitate to use his full strength -leave the heavy hitting to big, bulky West and take advantage of his own smaller, more agile build to strike rapidly- Prussia is pissed. Though he protected his head well enough, he's bruised from the debris flung by England's spell. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if some of his ribs are cracked from a particularly large stone. That, and he did not appreciate being thrown around like he's nothing.

So when he twists, it's with every bit of strength he can muster, until he feels and hears the bone give way under the torque.

Edited 2012-08-31 19:14 (UTC)

Unlike his brother who chose to move quickly to avoid the flying debris, Germany opted to crouch down and cover his head. Thanks to the lack of aim of such an attack he automatically avoided everything that wasn't lucky enough to crash right into him. And those hits he could endure. And with Prussia acting as the chainbreaker for this one it was unlikely that England would get the chance to fire a second spell right after the first.

As soon as this annoying little mafic tricks ceases and Germany gets to listen to the sound of mistreated bones, he can't exactly prevent the ghost of a smirk and stood back up again, ignoring the bruises he had taken from the attack. They shouldn't give the island too much time to actually breathe...

England cursed openly when he was not able to lift the Germans. At home, he would have been able to do it. After all, he'd used this levitation spell on France a few times to harass him, making him rise and drop with just the point of his finger. The small setback was forgotten, though, once Prussia was near and breaking his arm.

He didn't feel the pain at first, just heard the snap. And that was what made him yell. He was more frustrated at not being able to do anything to harm these guys, if anything! Why couldn't they just stay down?

A burst of adrenaline rushed through his body and he took advantage of the fact that Prussia was near. England turned and kneed Prussia in the stomach as hard as he could.

As hard as England could turned out to be very hard indeed, as Prussia releases him to stagger backwards, clutching his stomach in pain. He wheezes, gasping for breath, before finally collapsing to his knees. Unfortunately for him, he's definitely suffered some form of internal injury from that strike, because when he curls forwards, it makes severe pain lance through him. Pain strong enough that it makes Prussia retch, losing the contents of his stomach to the pavement. Which creates a somewhat vicious cycle, because the tightening of his stomach muscles only makes it hurt more, which only fuels his nausea. Soon enough, he's only dry heaving, having nothing left to throw up. "...ugh... fuck..."

The moment that Prussia staggered backwards was the moment that Germany dashed forwards himself, keen on making sure to not leave England any air. The taller German rushed past his brother and right at their opponent, aiming a strong punch with his fist at England's solar plexus with the stubbornly set intention of raining a storm of further blows on the island's upper body and, if possible, break a rib or two.

It was a shame that England couldn't savor the fact that he was able to hurt Prussia. Germany came up to him so fast that he hadn't been able to prepare of the attack. Using magic had really drained England, and that affected the rest of him. He suddenly found himself squished between the wall and a flurry of punches. It hurt so much and England couldn't even scream. He felt every blow. It was as though he were being bombed again.

Edited 2012-09-02 21:37 (UTC)

There was a certain satisfaction to having England hitlocked like this. And if it wouldn't be draining his energy as rapidly as it did, Germany would have loved to repay the island for every bomb he had dropped on him, every civilian that had fallen victim to his cowardly nightly attacks on his cities. Every single one. One blow at a time.

But just as he was about to lose himself in his own actions and Germany's entire self was about to slip from his own control to settle in a comfortable rage, the younger nation forced himself to stop punching England by jerking his own movements around into a harsh uppercut, only to bring his arm down again by adding a further forceful blow of his elbow to the side of England's head, emitting an angry roar of a warcry to bottle up his remaining frustration and pull himself together again.

Before the final blow, England was able to give Germany one final defiant stare. Had you had your fun? Were you now content? England only made a grunting noise prior to hitting the pavement.

To add to the dramatics of the fight, a few droplets of rain began to fall at that particular moment. Poetic, England thought wryly before he finally blacked out.

Germany watched the other nation go down in silence, but added a kick with his booted foot to England's ribs for good measures as soon as there was no further sign of the older man still being conscious.

With a short snarl the German finally turned away and moved to where his brother was still crouching to the ground, staring down at him in cold silence. He just wanted to rest now. But Germany wouldn't show that. Instead, he extended his hand towards his brother without a word, but somehow still signaling that he just wanted to go back to his room.

Kriegserklärung

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Italics = German

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Whoops. Teal Deers crossing.

i will take all the teal deers thanks. also i had to act out this

Method RPing is a totally valid form of tag writing. /herds teal deer

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