“What about you guys?” Bulgaria’s voice was carefully casual. “Are you going to ask anyone?”
Denmark stiffened at the question. He certainly knew who he’d like to ask… A quick flashing scenario filled with scornful, violet eyes and a cool indifferent refusal suddenly flashed behind his eyelids and he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking the coldness creeping through his being away. He’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t do this anymore—Norway didn’t love him, and that was final. He had to let it go.
“No way.” He said firmly, opening his eyes again and discovering with dismay that he was surrounded by zombies. His fingers flew over the buttons. “What about you, Al? Got someone in mind?”
America had remained suspiciously silent and Denmark wondered briefly if he too was thinking of a slim blonde nation with disdainful eyes.
“Nah, the hero has no time for love!” America’s voice sounded a bit too happy as his character unloaded into a pack of zombies. “Georgi? Gonna ask Serbia? Aren’t you two a thing?”
Bulgaria snorted, deciding to skate over the fact that no one before America had mentioned the L word. “That’s been over for years. Serb is spending a lot of time with Croatia now, if you know what I mean.” He paused, biting his lower lip. “No… No, I’ll probably just go… There will be plenty of single nations there, I’m sure. It’s not like the old days.”
“Yeah...”
The boys fell silent again; only this time, the silence was heavier, thicker. Denmark glanced at his chips and found he was no longer hungry. He balanced the controller on his stomach and rolled the bag up, pinning it shut and tossing it onto the couch behind him.
“Well, in any case, we gotta re-learn that waltz. It’s Austria’s favorite and it’s bound to be played like, a billion times. God forbid he play the Cha Cha Slide or anything.” America swore as his character dropped to the ground, victim of a zombie onslaught. “Shit. Little help?”
“On my way.” Bulgaria knifed a zombie out of the way and his character crouched to heal America’s. “Who do we know that knows how to dance the Viennese Waltz?”
“Uh…” Denmark chewed the inside of his cheek. “Well, we already ruled out Gil… Elizaveta would definitely know.”
“Yeah, but do you really want to ask one of them to teach you?”
“Good point.”
Denmark jabbed a button and swore as he died. “Gah. Maybe I’ll just ask Ice. He loves to dance, even if he doesn’t show it and he might show me if he’s in a good enough mood.”
“Sounds like a plan.” America’s character dropped as well. “Damn. Little help, Bulgaria…?”
Bulgaria’s fingers flew over the buttons. “I’m on my—oops. Shoot. I’m dead too.”
Denmark tossed his controller to the ground and slumped back against his mountain of pillows. “Just as well. I’ve got a meeting with my boss in…” He glanced at his watch. “Three hours. Well, shit.”
America looked at the clock on his wall. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. Isn’t it like, four in the morning over there? You guys should just switch to American time. It’s only ten here!”
Too tired to try and explain time zones to America again, Bulgaria just ignored him, giving a jaw-cracking yawn instead. “Well, I’m heading to bed for a few hours. I certainly don’t envy you, Mathias—morning meetings are the worst. Good luck.”
America and Bulgaria bid him goodnight/good morning and switched off their headsets, leaving Denmark alone in his darkened living room, lit only by the flickering home screen of his game. The Nordic nation rolled over onto his stomach and grabbed the remote from the side table, jabbing the power button and plunging the room into complete darkness. There was no point in his going to bed now. He’d just have to drink a lot of coffee and hope his boss was too sleepy to notice that he’d stayed up all night playing video games. Again.
---
Just a note, America means the international version of the Viennese Waltz and not the American version, which allows for a lot more freedom than the international one does. Also, it's a headcanon of mine that Denmark and America have a pretty decent brolationship that apparently involves playing Call of Duty at odd hours of the night. :) Thanks for reading, guys!
I just looked it up and oh, the Viennese Waltz is so pretty! XD I don't blame Austria for demanding everyone dance *properly* occasionally.
And I always figured Denmark and America--when they're alone--end up talking about physics. They both have strong histories in it (I'm influenced in this regard by a Denmark fic where all his thoughts were about quantum physics). But they're both a bit goofy, so the conversations are probably as practical as the average Sheldon theory from Big Bang Theory.
From the TV Tropes: Axis Powers Hetalis recommendations page (http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/FanficRecs/AxisPowersHetalia) (the usual warnings about visiting TV tropes and Recommendations pages apply to that link):
Title: Copenhagen (Extended) Author: Surelyyoujest Synopsis: Opera, quantum mechanics and politics, all filtered through the mind of a severely irritated Dane - or as summed up by the author: "1941. Germany and some of his friends turn up on Denmark's lawn one day and Denmark is Not Amused."
Sorry I'm so late, I've been out of town, but I was so excited to see this up when I got back!
A!A, we totally share a headcanon for Denmark and America's brolationship. Them broing it out is just such a perfect combination.
The Viennese Waltz is absolutely beautiful, but I wish them all the best of luck trying to learn how to dance. If they don't manage to get kidnapped first, that might limit their ability to learn how to dance.
I'll be waiting patiently for the next installment!
You need to update this, dammit. For it is wondrous. There simply isn't enough of the Magic Trio and you pull them off perfectly -- and Denmark and America's brolationship. XD I love how they're all complaining about the Viennese Waltz as they shoot at zombies, that's just such a THEM thing to do~
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The Consequences of Treading Toes [Part 2B]
(Anonymous) 2012-02-17 05:16 am (UTC)(link)Denmark stiffened at the question. He certainly knew who he’d like to ask… A quick flashing scenario filled with scornful, violet eyes and a cool indifferent refusal suddenly flashed behind his eyelids and he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking the coldness creeping through his being away. He’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t do this anymore—Norway didn’t love him, and that was final. He had to let it go.
“No way.” He said firmly, opening his eyes again and discovering with dismay that he was surrounded by zombies. His fingers flew over the buttons. “What about you, Al? Got someone in mind?”
America had remained suspiciously silent and Denmark wondered briefly if he too was thinking of a slim blonde nation with disdainful eyes.
“Nah, the hero has no time for love!” America’s voice sounded a bit too happy as his character unloaded into a pack of zombies. “Georgi? Gonna ask Serbia? Aren’t you two a thing?”
Bulgaria snorted, deciding to skate over the fact that no one before America had mentioned the L word. “That’s been over for years. Serb is spending a lot of time with Croatia now, if you know what I mean.” He paused, biting his lower lip. “No… No, I’ll probably just go… There will be plenty of single nations there, I’m sure. It’s not like the old days.”
“Yeah...”
The boys fell silent again; only this time, the silence was heavier, thicker. Denmark glanced at his chips and found he was no longer hungry. He balanced the controller on his stomach and rolled the bag up, pinning it shut and tossing it onto the couch behind him.
“Well, in any case, we gotta re-learn that waltz. It’s Austria’s favorite and it’s bound to be played like, a billion times. God forbid he play the Cha Cha Slide or anything.” America swore as his character dropped to the ground, victim of a zombie onslaught. “Shit. Little help?”
“On my way.” Bulgaria knifed a zombie out of the way and his character crouched to heal America’s. “Who do we know that knows how to dance the Viennese Waltz?”
“Uh…” Denmark chewed the inside of his cheek. “Well, we already ruled out Gil… Elizaveta would definitely know.”
“I think Mattie knows it.” America’s character jumped up. “Thanks, Georgi.”
“No problem. Can’t the Italians dance?”
“Yeah, but do you really want to ask one of them to teach you?”
“Good point.”
Denmark jabbed a button and swore as he died. “Gah. Maybe I’ll just ask Ice. He loves to dance, even if he doesn’t show it and he might show me if he’s in a good enough mood.”
“Sounds like a plan.” America’s character dropped as well. “Damn. Little help, Bulgaria…?”
Bulgaria’s fingers flew over the buttons. “I’m on my—oops. Shoot. I’m dead too.”
Denmark tossed his controller to the ground and slumped back against his mountain of pillows. “Just as well. I’ve got a meeting with my boss in…” He glanced at his watch. “Three hours. Well, shit.”
America looked at the clock on his wall. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. Isn’t it like, four in the morning over there? You guys should just switch to American time. It’s only ten here!”
Too tired to try and explain time zones to America again, Bulgaria just ignored him, giving a jaw-cracking yawn instead. “Well, I’m heading to bed for a few hours. I certainly don’t envy you, Mathias—morning meetings are the worst. Good luck.”
America and Bulgaria bid him goodnight/good morning and switched off their headsets, leaving Denmark alone in his darkened living room, lit only by the flickering home screen of his game. The Nordic nation rolled over onto his stomach and grabbed the remote from the side table, jabbing the power button and plunging the room into complete darkness. There was no point in his going to bed now. He’d just have to drink a lot of coffee and hope his boss was too sleepy to notice that he’d stayed up all night playing video games. Again.
---
Just a note, America means the international version of the Viennese Waltz and not the American version, which allows for a lot more freedom than the international one does. Also, it's a headcanon of mine that Denmark and America have a pretty decent brolationship that apparently involves playing Call of Duty at odd hours of the night. :) Thanks for reading, guys!
Re: The Consequences of Treading Toes [Part 2B]
(Anonymous) 2012-02-17 08:46 am (UTC)(link)And I always figured Denmark and America--when they're alone--end up talking about physics. They both have strong histories in it (I'm influenced in this regard by a Denmark fic where all his thoughts were about quantum physics). But they're both a bit goofy, so the conversations are probably as practical as the average Sheldon theory from Big Bang Theory.
Re: The Consequences of Treading Toes [Part 2B]
(Anonymous) 2012-02-17 09:20 am (UTC)(link)Linkies!
(Anonymous) 2012-02-21 07:15 am (UTC)(link)Title: Copenhagen (Extended)
Author: Surelyyoujest
Synopsis: Opera, quantum mechanics and politics, all filtered through the mind of a severely irritated Dane - or as summed up by the author:
"1941. Germany and some of his friends turn up on Denmark's lawn one day and Denmark is Not Amused."
http://hetalia.livejournal.com/4337047.html
OP
(Anonymous) 2012-02-22 09:20 pm (UTC)(link)A!A, we totally share a headcanon for Denmark and America's brolationship. Them broing it out is just such a perfect combination.
The Viennese Waltz is absolutely beautiful, but I wish them all the best of luck trying to learn how to dance. If they don't manage to get kidnapped first, that might limit their ability to learn how to dance.
I'll be waiting patiently for the next installment!
Re: The Consequences of Treading Toes [Part 2B]
(Anonymous) 2012-02-23 12:10 am (UTC)(link)/casually stalks thread