"Well, shit. If it isn't good ol' America, come to visit his poor little prisoner," Prussia sneers, not even bothering to sit up on his cot or look over as America enters the room. As far as he's concerned, the Allies are scum and aren't worth his time.
"Aw, c'mon Gil. I came all this way to give you a present, so why are you being so mean?" America whines, grabbing a nearby chair, turning it to face the cot, and sitting down on it. There's something wrong in his voice and it's not just the way he uses Prussia's human name so easily.
Prussia looks up and stares at America. Everything seems the same, except, and here Prussia sits up to get a better look to confirm his suspicions, those eyes are awfully bright looking and the pupils are nothing but pinpricks. And if he looks at America's nose for a little while, he can see the reddish tip of it twitching as well as some suspicious traces of white powder near his nostrils.
"Hey, hey, didn't your mother tell you that if you stretched your face like that you'd end up freezing it that way?" Alfred complains, backing away from Prussia's scrutiny. He wipes at his nose quickly as if caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.
Prussia leans back against the concrete wall carefully so as not to spill out of his cot. A wide, satisfied smile spreads over his face; he knows perfectly well what America's been doing and that knowledge gives him an edge that he hasn't had in ages.
America smiles back nervously and pulls out a little baggie full of white powder from his coat pocket with a flourish. "Ta dah! Thought you could maybe use a pick me up in this hellhole," he says.
"And why should I trust you, America? If I recall, you and your buddies did a pretty good number on me and my brother," Prussia sneers. "Besides, with what I know, I could just drop a little whisper into Russia's ear and bam! World War III, bombs fall and everybody dies."
Much to Prussia's surprise, America throws his head back and laughs at him. Once he gets over the shock, rage sets in. That fucking coke head is laughing. Laughing at him. Mother fucker.
"What's so goddamn funny, asshole? I just said that I could kill us all and you're laughing like you just got let out of the monkey cage at the zoo!" Prussia screams, his face reddening and distorting into something at the edge of murderous.
America laughs even harder and Prussia contemplates strangling the bastard with his own jacket during the lull in conversation. Finally, the man calms down, but there are tears in his eyes now and he's still smiling.
"Russia's got too many of his own problems to do anything about what you tell him, Gil. This place is falling apart around him," and here America pauses to sweep his hands around the room before turning back to Prussia. "It's only a matter of time before the Wall comes down too. I just came here to offer you something that'll pass the time in a better way than trying to get yourself shot at or worked to death."
"Fine," Prussia spits out. "Give me that shit, show me how to use it, and get the fuck out. I don't have the patience for your stupidity, America."
"Jesus Gil, at least Raivis shares his drugs with me. Why can't you be nice like him?" America whines, hurt by Prussia's words.
Now it's Prussia's turn to laugh. When he finally stops, he stares at America in disbelief. He can't believe that little milquetoast brat Latvia is a druggie. It makes no sense.
"That's right, little Raivis is a meth head. You shouldn't be so surprised; after all, the Baltics have put up with Russia's shit ages longer than you have," America tells him, hurt replaced with a smug smirk.
Taking advantage of Prussia's current moment of shock as the other country slowly works out the logistics of a fifteen year old drug addict, America produces a mirror, a razor blade, and opens the baggie. He has two neat fat lines on the mirror by the time Prussia's jaw starts working again.
With a grin, America rolls a dollar bill from his pocket into a straw that sucks the powder in one of the lines quickly up into his nose. After a loud sniff and an audible swallow, America passes the mirror over to Prussia.
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It's Not A Habit [6.5/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-05 06:59 am (UTC)(link)"Well, shit. If it isn't good ol' America, come to visit his poor little prisoner," Prussia sneers, not even bothering to sit up on his cot or look over as America enters the room. As far as he's concerned, the Allies are scum and aren't worth his time.
"Aw, c'mon Gil. I came all this way to give you a present, so why are you being so mean?" America whines, grabbing a nearby chair, turning it to face the cot, and sitting down on it. There's something wrong in his voice and it's not just the way he uses Prussia's human name so easily.
Prussia looks up and stares at America. Everything seems the same, except, and here Prussia sits up to get a better look to confirm his suspicions, those eyes are awfully bright looking and the pupils are nothing but pinpricks. And if he looks at America's nose for a little while, he can see the reddish tip of it twitching as well as some suspicious traces of white powder near his nostrils.
"Hey, hey, didn't your mother tell you that if you stretched your face like that you'd end up freezing it that way?" Alfred complains, backing away from Prussia's scrutiny. He wipes at his nose quickly as if caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.
Prussia leans back against the concrete wall carefully so as not to spill out of his cot. A wide, satisfied smile spreads over his face; he knows perfectly well what America's been doing and that knowledge gives him an edge that he hasn't had in ages.
America smiles back nervously and pulls out a little baggie full of white powder from his coat pocket with a flourish. "Ta dah! Thought you could maybe use a pick me up in this hellhole," he says.
"And why should I trust you, America? If I recall, you and your buddies did a pretty good number on me and my brother," Prussia sneers. "Besides, with what I know, I could just drop a little whisper into Russia's ear and bam! World War III, bombs fall and everybody dies."
Much to Prussia's surprise, America throws his head back and laughs at him. Once he gets over the shock, rage sets in. That fucking coke head is laughing. Laughing at him. Mother fucker.
"What's so goddamn funny, asshole? I just said that I could kill us all and you're laughing like you just got let out of the monkey cage at the zoo!" Prussia screams, his face reddening and distorting into something at the edge of murderous.
America laughs even harder and Prussia contemplates strangling the bastard with his own jacket during the lull in conversation. Finally, the man calms down, but there are tears in his eyes now and he's still smiling.
"Russia's got too many of his own problems to do anything about what you tell him, Gil. This place is falling apart around him," and here America pauses to sweep his hands around the room before turning back to Prussia. "It's only a matter of time before the Wall comes down too. I just came here to offer you something that'll pass the time in a better way than trying to get yourself shot at or worked to death."
"Fine," Prussia spits out. "Give me that shit, show me how to use it, and get the fuck out. I don't have the patience for your stupidity, America."
"Jesus Gil, at least Raivis shares his drugs with me. Why can't you be nice like him?" America whines, hurt by Prussia's words.
Now it's Prussia's turn to laugh. When he finally stops, he stares at America in disbelief. He can't believe that little milquetoast brat Latvia is a druggie. It makes no sense.
"That's right, little Raivis is a meth head. You shouldn't be so surprised; after all, the Baltics have put up with Russia's shit ages longer than you have," America tells him, hurt replaced with a smug smirk.
Taking advantage of Prussia's current moment of shock as the other country slowly works out the logistics of a fifteen year old drug addict, America produces a mirror, a razor blade, and opens the baggie. He has two neat fat lines on the mirror by the time Prussia's jaw starts working again.
With a grin, America rolls a dollar bill from his pocket into a straw that sucks the powder in one of the lines quickly up into his nose. After a loud sniff and an audible swallow, America passes the mirror over to Prussia.