After the various sessions with the smaller groups were done, the entire EU gathered for a final session in the main conference room. Instead of the usual atmosphere of barely undeclared war, there was a sharp tension to the air, a taste of fear that England wished he'd inspired.
Alas, his glory days were long past. He was, like most of Europe, a fading power who let his politicians make their idiotic mistakes and amused himself by stirring trouble amongst his old rivals.
Prussia was even less than that, but he could terrorize Europe without trying.
England squashed a surge of jealousy as the man himself strode in – exactly on time – getting a sharp hush which proved that the whispers England hadn't heard clearly were indeed about Prussia.
Reports from the smaller groups were first: England didn't pay much attention to those, preferring to watch as Prussia took notes, quick and precise, although why he'd take written notes rather than use the laptop was something England couldn't help wondering about.
The man's eyes sharpened, glittering a deeper, bloodier shade of red as he pointed out assumptions in the reports – Sweden and Denmark both flushed when Prussia observed that their economic plans relied on Russia's goodwill, something that was a little less secure than it had been a few years ago – and more than a few other flaws. None of them escaped that scrutiny.
If Prussia saw the resentment building he ignored it, at least until little Latvia – of all people to speak up – burst out, “Like you've got anything to say! Your government was even worse!”
Prussia pinned the smallest of the Baltics with a glare that should have caused Latvia to spontaneously combust on the spot. “I'm not representing them.”
England did his best to look bored. If the damned Frog noticed his interest, he'd have to fend the wretched creature off and might miss something interesting.
“You shouldn't be criticizing us.” Latvia's stout defense was made less effective by the way he was wringing his hands.
Prussia chuckled softly, not his maddening hiss-snicker-thing, but a real laugh, soft and menacing. “Latvia, I'm not one for fancy words or dancing around a topic like some here. If you object to a straightforward assessment, perhaps you should be speaking to someone else.”
That had to hurt, England mused. It wasn't that Prussia was wrong, either – obviously the man had lost none of the sharpness that had taken him from a Polish vassal-state to a power to rival France and Austria within a hundred years. The question at hand was whether Prussia intended to use that edge to reclaim the land he'd once owned.
Poland certainly looked like he considered it a possibility, as did Lithuania. That or there'd been a meal of live eels that they'd mysteriously failed to notice.
It was Spain – usually clueless and cheerful to the point of inanity – who asked the obvious. “Prussia, what are you trying to prove here? You know your brother would have had no objections.” The former Empire still sounded as cheerful and clueless as ever, but England doubted it was genuine. All of them had their little acts, their games they played to avoid showing their true selves to other nations.
Prussia smiled, as innocent an expression as he could produce – which wasn't very. “I'm representing my brother, of course.”
“Enough with the games,” Poland snapped. “Who did you plan to take first?”
The sudden hush said everything: all of them had reached the same conclusion, that Prussia was planning to reclaim his old place.
England would swear he saw a flash of pain in the former nation's expression before Prussia spread his hands and shook his head. “First? I don't plan to 'take' any of you. I've had my fill of bosses treating me like shit and thinking I'm just a pretty little soldier toy to take out for a war.” The venom in that comment should have killed someone. “I'm simply helping out my awesome little brother.”
With a change of mood so quick it left England wondering which mood he was faking, Prussia turned back to his notes. “Now, the final item on the agenda. Belgium, if you'd be kind enough to give the presentation on the Union finances?”
Belgium did, shooting nervous little glances Prussia's way the whole time she outlined the current assets and monetary policy of the European Union.
He simply listened and took notes, waiting until she was done before he asked, “How much reserve are the central banks maintaining?”
England hadn't realized Prussia followed finance, but his response to Belgium's startled answer proved that he not only followed financial matters, he understood them better than most of the other nations. Which made a certain amount of sense, England supposed. Prussia did have a lot more free time than the rest of them. Time enough to familiarize himself with international finance and... well...
England swallowed. The European Union wasn't an empire, nor was it the kind of organization that could support a personification. There was no way Prussia could be sidling into that role unnoticed. None. It was impossible.
Re: Prussia filling in for Germany at meetings - Awesome Union 3 of ?
Alas, his glory days were long past. He was, like most of Europe, a fading power who let his politicians make their idiotic mistakes and amused himself by stirring trouble amongst his old rivals.
Prussia was even less than that, but he could terrorize Europe without trying.
England squashed a surge of jealousy as the man himself strode in – exactly on time – getting a sharp hush which proved that the whispers England hadn't heard clearly were indeed about Prussia.
Reports from the smaller groups were first: England didn't pay much attention to those, preferring to watch as Prussia took notes, quick and precise, although why he'd take written notes rather than use the laptop was something England couldn't help wondering about.
The man's eyes sharpened, glittering a deeper, bloodier shade of red as he pointed out assumptions in the reports – Sweden and Denmark both flushed when Prussia observed that their economic plans relied on Russia's goodwill, something that was a little less secure than it had been a few years ago – and more than a few other flaws. None of them escaped that scrutiny.
If Prussia saw the resentment building he ignored it, at least until little Latvia – of all people to speak up – burst out, “Like you've got anything to say! Your government was even worse!”
Prussia pinned the smallest of the Baltics with a glare that should have caused Latvia to spontaneously combust on the spot. “I'm not representing them.”
England did his best to look bored. If the damned Frog noticed his interest, he'd have to fend the wretched creature off and might miss something interesting.
“You shouldn't be criticizing us.” Latvia's stout defense was made less effective by the way he was wringing his hands.
Prussia chuckled softly, not his maddening hiss-snicker-thing, but a real laugh, soft and menacing. “Latvia, I'm not one for fancy words or dancing around a topic like some here. If you object to a straightforward assessment, perhaps you should be speaking to someone else.”
That had to hurt, England mused. It wasn't that Prussia was wrong, either – obviously the man had lost none of the sharpness that had taken him from a Polish vassal-state to a power to rival France and Austria within a hundred years. The question at hand was whether Prussia intended to use that edge to reclaim the land he'd once owned.
Poland certainly looked like he considered it a possibility, as did Lithuania. That or there'd been a meal of live eels that they'd mysteriously failed to notice.
It was Spain – usually clueless and cheerful to the point of inanity – who asked the obvious. “Prussia, what are you trying to prove here? You know your brother would have had no objections.” The former Empire still sounded as cheerful and clueless as ever, but England doubted it was genuine. All of them had their little acts, their games they played to avoid showing their true selves to other nations.
Prussia smiled, as innocent an expression as he could produce – which wasn't very. “I'm representing my brother, of course.”
“Enough with the games,” Poland snapped. “Who did you plan to take first?”
The sudden hush said everything: all of them had reached the same conclusion, that Prussia was planning to reclaim his old place.
England would swear he saw a flash of pain in the former nation's expression before Prussia spread his hands and shook his head. “First? I don't plan to 'take' any of you. I've had my fill of bosses treating me like shit and thinking I'm just a pretty little soldier toy to take out for a war.” The venom in that comment should have killed someone. “I'm simply helping out my awesome little brother.”
With a change of mood so quick it left England wondering which mood he was faking, Prussia turned back to his notes. “Now, the final item on the agenda. Belgium, if you'd be kind enough to give the presentation on the Union finances?”
Belgium did, shooting nervous little glances Prussia's way the whole time she outlined the current assets and monetary policy of the European Union.
He simply listened and took notes, waiting until she was done before he asked, “How much reserve are the central banks maintaining?”
England hadn't realized Prussia followed finance, but his response to Belgium's startled answer proved that he not only followed financial matters, he understood them better than most of the other nations. Which made a certain amount of sense, England supposed. Prussia did have a lot more free time than the rest of them. Time enough to familiarize himself with international finance and... well...
England swallowed. The European Union wasn't an empire, nor was it the kind of organization that could support a personification. There was no way Prussia could be sidling into that role unnoticed. None. It was impossible.
He hoped.