[Hetalia] Conference Crasher (ensemble)
Feb. 2nd, 2010 09:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valmoraTitle: Conference Crasher
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters: Sealand, Cyprus twins, Prussia, Finland/Sweden, everyone else
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: not mine
Notes: originally posted here at the kink meme based on this prompt, kindexed here.
Summary: Sealand realizes that something must be done to rescue the Nations of the world from all becoming vampires like Prussia and the G8.
The wood was cold against Sealand’s ear, but all that he could hear was the whisper of static from his own ears. No good, trying to listen to the G8 meeting through the door. So much for his plans to know what he would have to do to someday be able to join the G8.
Instead he snuck around to the side door of the conference room and clicked it open just a thumb’s length so that he could listen.
The G8 Nations were sitting at an oval table in the center of the room. America was standing, giving a speech about trade balances while France smelled roses and England shouted out insults against America’s intelligence in between sips of tea. Italy looked awake for once, nibbling on a slice of pizza and leaning into Germany’s shoulder, watching him take notes.
They all had large cups of coffee in front of them, except for Russia, who was drinking water out of a big two-litre glass bottle.
“So I think we should all turn our cars into Transformers,” America finished.
“I think perhaps that would be a problem for some automakers,” Japan murmured, “but I confess my own car companies began similar designs twenty years ago and would be ready to roll out such products within five years.”
Well, that was weird. Even though Japan agreed with America in the end, that first bit sounded almost like disagreement. He might as well have been screaming that America was a complete idiot.
Maybe Japan was sick.
Actually, now that Sealand was looking, they all looked kind of weird. America had dark circles under his eyes and the usual bounce-swagger in his step was gone. And Russia’s eyes were bloodshot and he kept looking like he was about to fall asleep, even though it was the middle of the day.
On top of that, they were all really pale – not that some of them weren’t already really pale all the time, but more pale. What's-his-name-America's-brother’s neck was all bruised, just like France’s, and…
Italy shifted against Germany, leaned in, and nudged Germany’s shirt collar out of the way with his nose before liking at his neck. Like he wanted to eat him –
Sealand tried to slam the door shut as quietly as possible so that they wouldn’t notice him. They’d drink his blood now that he’d realized that they were all vampires and could reveal their secret.
Breathing hard, he sank back against the door. How could he get the word out to someone who could stake them and protect the rest of the world?
“Whatcha doing?” someone asked from above him.
Sealand froze, staring dismayed at the black boots, the dress trousers, the suit, up to Prussia’s face. Prussia, with his red eyes and his sharp-toothed grin with the big teeth just perfect for biting into necks and drinking blood.
Sealand squeaked and huddled up, just waiting to be carried away and drained bloodless.
“Good kid,” Prussia said, patting him on the head. “I like your spirit, spying on those boring lamefaces. Catch you later.” He opened the door and strode inside, stemming the flow of the argument that had erupted between the Nations in the meantime.
Sealand had to try the magnetic door card five times before the light by the door handle clicked green and let him in.
Sweden was sitting at the desk, using his laptop design program to plan out a table that would eventually be in Sealand’s bedroom at the house near Helsinki. Behind him, Finland was on his stomach on the bed, going over slides that looked like they had come from a presentation earlier in the day.
Sealand let the door close behind him. “Sweden, Sweden, can I borrow some wood? Like a long piece?”
Sweden unclicked his mouse and looked over. “What for?”
“I’m gonna go play whale-hunting with the Cyprus twins, but I need a harpoon.”
“You’ll go outside t’play, right?”
“I promise,” Sealand lied.
“There’s some in m’bag.”
“Thank you!” Sealand went rummaging in Sweden’s suitcase, tossing aside a set of blue-plaid swim trunks and a violent purple track suit before finding the two-foot long blocks. They were probably meant to become chair legs, but they were still squared off and full of splinters. The ends weren’t sharp, but Northern Cyprus could probably sneak them into Turkey’s room to borrow a scimitar to fix that.
The Cyprus twins weren’t in the hotel restaurant, or the pool. They weren’t in Greece’s room, or in Turkey’s, and they weren’t out in the garden playing with Pochi.
He finally found them by following a trail of ice cubes down a hall on the third floor. At the end of the trail, he found them sitting in front of Iceland’s room, giving the puffin a playground.
“Hey, hey,” Sealand said, plopping down on the carpet next to them, “wanna help me?”
“With what?” Northern Cyprus tapped the puffin’s wings
“Prussia’s a vampire and he’s turning all the members of the G8 into vampires too. So we need to stake them before they come to our rooms in the night and drink our blood!”
Cyprus eyed him and petted the puffin. “We haven’t been making England mad, so we’re not afraid of being eaten.”
Stupid gloaty Cypruses who got independence from England. “But think what if Japan decides he thinks Greece looks delicious? Or America decides Turkey is? I mean, it’s close to Thanksgiving for him.”
Both Cypruses paled and glanced at each other.
“That’s not allowed to happen,” Northern Cyprus announced. “We want Baba and Babbás to live together again.”
“You do,” Cyprus said. “I don’t.”
Northern Cyprus whined high in his throat and reached to pick up an ice cube. Sealand realized just before Northern Cyprus picked it up that Northern Cyprus was going to throw it, so he yelled, “Anyway, help me stake them!”
Both Cypruses, now distracted from their argument, stared at him. “Are you sure?” Cyprus asked.
“Come on and look. France was all bruised on his neck, and America was stumbling around, and Japan was almost rude! And Prussia stopped their argument the moment he walked in the door!”
Northern Cyprus, who had been holding the puffin, dropped it. It squawked unhappily and flapped its wings. “We should go now,” he said. “Baba brought his old swords with him in case Babbás started carrying around his cross again. I’ll get it and we can sharpen the stakes.”
“It’s Saturday now, so we can attack them tonight and fix this. I’ll go get some garlic,” Cyprus said, and dashed off. “You watch Lundar and we’ll be back.”
Sealand put the stakes down by the door and waited for them to come back, watching the ice melt while the puffin flapped its wings and investigated the growing puddle of water.
In order to keep Sweden and Finland from getting suspicious, Sealand tried to keep his routine normal. He went to bed at his normal time, ten, but lay awake in the double bed he had all to himself, pretending that Sweden and Finland were keeping him awake.
Eventually Finland changed into his pyjamas and got into the other bed, and Sweden took a shower. Sweden turned the lights out before he went to lie down in bed with Finland. Sealand pretended to sleep while keeping his eyes open.
After a long time of listening to his own breathing and waiting for his eyesight to adjust to the darkness, he looked at the clock. Not even eleven. One AM would never come.
But of course it did. At ten to one, he slid out of bed, trying to get over to his suitcase so he could dress.
“What’re y’doin’?”
Sealand jumped, shock stretching cold down his spine.
“Going to the bathroom” he lied, sighing. There was no way he’d be able to sneak out of the room if Sweden was awake.
He went into the bathroom, and when he left Sweden was sitting up in bed. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, so he was squinting intimidatingly over at Sealand. The effect was ruined a little, though, by Finland, who had thrown an arm over Sweden’s waist and was curled up in a position obviously meant for Sweden to wrap around. Sealand looked away. Gross. Parents weren’t supposed to get smoochy like that.
Sealand went back to bed, mentally apologizing to the Cypruses as he did so.
“Night,” Sweden said gently, bed sheets rustling as he lay back down. Finland’s breathing changed a little as he stirred, not waking, at Sweden moving.
“Good night.” There was no way Sealand would be able to sleep tonight, worrying that Russia would attack Finland – everyone already knew he thought Finland was tasty – and Finland would drain Sweden and then Sealand would be alone.
In the morning, right after Sweden and Finland went to an EU meeting, Sealand went hunting the Cypruses.
He found Northern Cyprus sitting in the hotel restaurant eating a bowl of grapes.
“I’m sorry!” Northern Cyprus cried before Sealand could start his apology. “I fell asleep and when I woke up it was morning!”
“It’s okay. I couldn’t leave the room because Sweden woke up when I tried.”
Northern Cyprus blinked back tears. “Oh. Now I don’t feel bad.”
“Yeah,” Sealand agreed, looking around at the rest of the restaurant. “Where’s Cyprus?”
“Dunno.” Northern Cyprus skinned a grape before popping it in his mouth. “He’s staying with Babbás, so I haven’t seen him since Babbás and Baba got back from their meeting and saw us together and started fighting and then dragged us away from each other.” He sniffled a bit. “I hope America doesn’t eat Baba.”
“We won’t let him. Let’s go look for Cyprus, then.”
Northern Cyprus obediently picked up the bunch of grapes h was eating and trotted after Sealand.
They checked Iceland’s room first, but no one answered when they knocked. Greece’s room was empty too.
They only looked out into the courtyard when they heard Pochi barking, and there was Cyprus, petting a wigglingly happy Pochi.
“We’re sorry we didn’t meet you,” Sealand said, once he and Northern Cyprus had run down the stairs and were closer than shouting-distance. “He fell asleep and Sweden was awake so I couldn’t leave.”
“It’s okay,” Cyprus said, while Northern Cyprus leaned over to scratch behind Pochi’s ears. “Babbás didn’t even go to bed, since he was sleeping through all the conferences, so I couldn’t get out.”
Sealand swallowed. “You mean nobody staked Prussia?”
Cyprus shook his head.
Sealand sat down in desperation on the edge of a nearby planter. “What are we going to do?”
“Maybe he hasn’t woken up yet,” Northern Cyprus suggested. “He’s a vampire and vampires don’t like the daytime. So he’s probably still asleep. If we can get into his room now maybe we can still do it.”
They paraded into the back of the auditorium where the meeting was being held and stood behind Germany and Italy, who were in the audience. Italy was happily slurping up pasta, with Germany wincing at each little pop of noodle-ends entering Italy’s mouth. Sealand figured it was probably charity to distract him. There was sauce all over his notes.
“Herr Deutschland,” Sealand said, trying to be polite and say it properly but mangling it anyway, “do you know where Herr Preußen is?”
“Asleep,” Germany replied shortly. He had deep circles under his eyes, as though he hadn’t slept the night before, or like he was dead.
“We want to talk to him, so do you have a keycard to his room that we can borrow?”
“Don’t try to tickle him awake. He punches.”
“We won’t,” Cyprus whispered.
Germany fished around in the back pocket of his suit and finally handed them a keycard. “If you get broken bones,” he muttered, “it’s not my fault and I didn’t give you this.”
“Thank you, sir,” Northern Cyprus whispered, clutching Pochi close to his chest, and they filed out of the room.
They wandered around getting lost for a while, trying to find the room that was listed as Prussia’s on the official conference booklet. It took them a little while, but they eventually found it when they realized that he was next door to Germany.
After distributing the stakes, they knocked on the door. No answer. Sealand said “Herr Preußen!” a couple of times.
Finally Cyprus knocked again and said, “Room service!” and suddenly there were footsteps, coming nearer the door.
Sealand stared at Cyprus and hissed, “He’s going to think we’re for eating!”
Cyprus opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t say anything because that was when the door opened.
Prussia was wearing nothing but his Teutonic cross and boxers printed with a double-headed eagle. He stared at the three standing at his door, like they stared at him, before he said, “Jesus, and here I was hoping for lunch.” There was a big scar on his chest, from right over his heart to the the the left corner of his abs.
“Aren’t you going to eat us?” Northern Cyprus piped up, still scritching at Pochi’s ears. “I bet our blood tastes yummy –”
Prussia looked at him sidelong, brows furrowing. “Are you trying to make a dig about how Christians drink blood and eat babies?”
Sealand shifted, hiding the stake better behind his back. They had to get inside the room if they wanted to stake him without anyone figuring things out. Or at least, not before there was time for them to stake the rest of the vampires. “We’re looking for Lundar,” Sealand fibbed. “He escaped and we want to play with him. Did he get in your room?”
“Who’s Lundar?”
Cyprus brushed past Prussia through the doorway. “He’s Iceland’s puffin, and he’s very quiet, so if he is hear you wouldn’t know.” He peered under the bed, still carrying the wooden stake like it was unremarkable, then behind the curtains.
“Hey now,” Prussia said, turning to watch him and taking a couple steps inside the room, “what are you doing? Get out. Wait – aren’t you supposed to be at the – ”
“I’m engaging in diplomatic talks with my brother,” Cyprus said delicately. “Lundar, are you here?”
“Attack, Pochi!” Northern Cyprus cried, and set Pochi on the floor right in front of Prussia.
Pochi proceeded to sniff Prussia’s bare feet and sneeze.
Prussia reached to pick up Northern Cyprus and throw him over his shoulder. “I have no idea what’s going on,” he said, “but this is too weird even for me. What the –” He slid Northern Cyprus off his shoulder and then turned to look at his back, where Northern Cyprus had tried to stick the stake in his back and had succeeded in poking him enough to draw blood but not to do any damage. And had then dropped the stake on the floor.
“Run!” Sealand cried, and they all fled the room, pausing only to retrieve Pochi.
They ran and hid in Greece’s room for a while, then Sealand snuck back to the hotel room he was sharing with Sweden and Finland, only to find when he opened the door –
“Hey, brat,” Prussia said, from his seat in the desk chair, across from Finland and Sweden. “Took the opportunity to visit my cousins.”
Sealand shivered. Sweden and Finland were both wearing suits and ties and were sitting up straight, looking very official. Sealand understood suddenly how everyone else could be terrified of Sweden, and well, somehow the clothing had gathered up all Finland’s usual energy until he looked small and intense and scary, like there was a rifle and a Russian soldier in front of him.
“Sit down, Sealand,” Finland said. His voice was cold.
Sealand shuffled over to the other bed and sat on the edge.
“What were you trying to do in my room?” Prussia asked. He was grinning, but Sealand didn’t think it was a smile. Prussia’s canine teeth were very big, and looked very sharp.
“That’s need-to-know information and –”
“It’s not.” Sweden bit the words out.
Sealand opened his mouth, then closed it. If he said anything Prussia would know he knew and then he’d know that Sweden and Finland knew and they’d be in danger and he couldn’t. But they could always tell when he was lying.
“I saw the G8 members yesterday,” he mumbled, staring down at the floor. “And they’re really sick, and Canada and France had bruises on their necks. Like bites. And then Italy was acting like he wanted to bite Germany’s neck. Like a vampire. They’re all vampires. We wanted to save everyone else.”
Prussia let out a bark of laughter. “Well, wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to kill me for the good of the world.”
“Sealand,” Finland said, “We’re ashamed of you. You’re old enough to know that vampires don’t exist.”
“’n attempted murder’s not the best way t’carry out international relations,” Sweden added.
“It wasn’t just me!” Sealand cried, looking up at Sweden and Finland. “Cyprus and Northern Cyprus were there too!”
Both their faces froze and the room temperature seemed to drop several degrees.
“I'll pretend y’didn’t say that,” Sweden ground out.
Prussia twitched his head a little, like maybe he was nodding. “Don’t rat out your buddies, brat. They’re all you’ve got other than your dads. And they pulled you up in front of the big bad vampire. Besides, I’m going to go talk to Greece and Turkey next.” He half-smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I promise, I’m not gonna eat anyone. Those guys just partied too late, is all. I was bringing painkillers for them, since I remember what it’s like trying to go through a conference with a hangover.”
“Oh.” Sealand clenched his hands on top of his thighs. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”
“Nah, it’s all right. Just stung. Didn’t do any harm. “ He leaned forward and slid Sealand’s hat off his head before ruffling his hair a little. “Maybe you should come spend some time with me and West, see how big bad undead Nations live for a change.”
Sealand nodded helplessly and sat there cold and confused while Finland and Sweden saw Prussia to the door.
After Prussia was gone, Finland closed the door, turn around and said, “I’m sure you know that you’re grounded.”
Sealand tried to scrunch himself a little smaller. So much for joining the G20 sometime soon.
“- and then the kid had the balls to stab me! Can you believe that?” Prussia, gesturing expansively, sloshed yet more beer onto the table.
Germany opted to ignore this in the face of more pressing concerns. “Maybe demilitarisation-”
Only to be ignored as Prussia added, “I like his guts. Good for an island to have guts. Even not islands should have guts. Speaking of islands with guts, Japan. Fuck. You should have seen him and America and Canada at the party, but no, you have no balls, West. Do you know why? Because they are in the palm of North Italy’s hand.” Prussia laughed uproariously and fell face-first onto the table, soaking his dress shirt in beer. Then he added, still face-first into the wood, “Hey, you know what? Eichbaum tastes better when you lick it off a table.”
“I’m sure it does,” Germany sighed. “Are you too drunk to walk back to your room?”
“No,” Prussia declared. “And it doesn’t matter how drunk I am, because my Liver Of Steel and Awesome can handle everything. You will be hungover tomorrow and be easily mistaken for the living dead by small nations with large testicles. I will be fresh, like a daisy or possibly unstarched laundry.”
“Unstarched?”
“You have all the starch.”
“Oh.”
“So anyway I went and talked to their parents, and Jesus, I knew Sweden was scary but Finland had the freaking enormousest balls in the room, and that is saying something since I was there. That went okay, and then I had to go talk to Greece and Turkey and you know what? I don’t even want to know. I don’t even want to know. They just need to get laid. Seriously. Parenting just kills your sex life, unless Grandpa Germania figured something out that we haven’t. Rome did. And you’ve got his grandson. Figure it out, West. I want you still getting laid even after you give me little curly-haired idiot nephews. Or nieces. Switzerland doesn’t count. He doesn’t like pasta and is no fun to play with."
Germany put his face in his hands. “I’ll remember,” he sighed.
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters: Sealand, Cyprus twins, Prussia, Finland/Sweden, everyone else
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: not mine
Notes: originally posted here at the kink meme based on this prompt, kindexed here.
Summary: Sealand realizes that something must be done to rescue the Nations of the world from all becoming vampires like Prussia and the G8.
The wood was cold against Sealand’s ear, but all that he could hear was the whisper of static from his own ears. No good, trying to listen to the G8 meeting through the door. So much for his plans to know what he would have to do to someday be able to join the G8.
Instead he snuck around to the side door of the conference room and clicked it open just a thumb’s length so that he could listen.
The G8 Nations were sitting at an oval table in the center of the room. America was standing, giving a speech about trade balances while France smelled roses and England shouted out insults against America’s intelligence in between sips of tea. Italy looked awake for once, nibbling on a slice of pizza and leaning into Germany’s shoulder, watching him take notes.
They all had large cups of coffee in front of them, except for Russia, who was drinking water out of a big two-litre glass bottle.
“So I think we should all turn our cars into Transformers,” America finished.
“I think perhaps that would be a problem for some automakers,” Japan murmured, “but I confess my own car companies began similar designs twenty years ago and would be ready to roll out such products within five years.”
Well, that was weird. Even though Japan agreed with America in the end, that first bit sounded almost like disagreement. He might as well have been screaming that America was a complete idiot.
Maybe Japan was sick.
Actually, now that Sealand was looking, they all looked kind of weird. America had dark circles under his eyes and the usual bounce-swagger in his step was gone. And Russia’s eyes were bloodshot and he kept looking like he was about to fall asleep, even though it was the middle of the day.
On top of that, they were all really pale – not that some of them weren’t already really pale all the time, but more pale. What's-his-name-America's-brother’s neck was all bruised, just like France’s, and…
Italy shifted against Germany, leaned in, and nudged Germany’s shirt collar out of the way with his nose before liking at his neck. Like he wanted to eat him –
Sealand tried to slam the door shut as quietly as possible so that they wouldn’t notice him. They’d drink his blood now that he’d realized that they were all vampires and could reveal their secret.
Breathing hard, he sank back against the door. How could he get the word out to someone who could stake them and protect the rest of the world?
“Whatcha doing?” someone asked from above him.
Sealand froze, staring dismayed at the black boots, the dress trousers, the suit, up to Prussia’s face. Prussia, with his red eyes and his sharp-toothed grin with the big teeth just perfect for biting into necks and drinking blood.
Sealand squeaked and huddled up, just waiting to be carried away and drained bloodless.
“Good kid,” Prussia said, patting him on the head. “I like your spirit, spying on those boring lamefaces. Catch you later.” He opened the door and strode inside, stemming the flow of the argument that had erupted between the Nations in the meantime.
Sealand had to try the magnetic door card five times before the light by the door handle clicked green and let him in.
Sweden was sitting at the desk, using his laptop design program to plan out a table that would eventually be in Sealand’s bedroom at the house near Helsinki. Behind him, Finland was on his stomach on the bed, going over slides that looked like they had come from a presentation earlier in the day.
Sealand let the door close behind him. “Sweden, Sweden, can I borrow some wood? Like a long piece?”
Sweden unclicked his mouse and looked over. “What for?”
“I’m gonna go play whale-hunting with the Cyprus twins, but I need a harpoon.”
“You’ll go outside t’play, right?”
“I promise,” Sealand lied.
“There’s some in m’bag.”
“Thank you!” Sealand went rummaging in Sweden’s suitcase, tossing aside a set of blue-plaid swim trunks and a violent purple track suit before finding the two-foot long blocks. They were probably meant to become chair legs, but they were still squared off and full of splinters. The ends weren’t sharp, but Northern Cyprus could probably sneak them into Turkey’s room to borrow a scimitar to fix that.
The Cyprus twins weren’t in the hotel restaurant, or the pool. They weren’t in Greece’s room, or in Turkey’s, and they weren’t out in the garden playing with Pochi.
He finally found them by following a trail of ice cubes down a hall on the third floor. At the end of the trail, he found them sitting in front of Iceland’s room, giving the puffin a playground.
“Hey, hey,” Sealand said, plopping down on the carpet next to them, “wanna help me?”
“With what?” Northern Cyprus tapped the puffin’s wings
“Prussia’s a vampire and he’s turning all the members of the G8 into vampires too. So we need to stake them before they come to our rooms in the night and drink our blood!”
Cyprus eyed him and petted the puffin. “We haven’t been making England mad, so we’re not afraid of being eaten.”
Stupid gloaty Cypruses who got independence from England. “But think what if Japan decides he thinks Greece looks delicious? Or America decides Turkey is? I mean, it’s close to Thanksgiving for him.”
Both Cypruses paled and glanced at each other.
“That’s not allowed to happen,” Northern Cyprus announced. “We want Baba and Babbás to live together again.”
“You do,” Cyprus said. “I don’t.”
Northern Cyprus whined high in his throat and reached to pick up an ice cube. Sealand realized just before Northern Cyprus picked it up that Northern Cyprus was going to throw it, so he yelled, “Anyway, help me stake them!”
Both Cypruses, now distracted from their argument, stared at him. “Are you sure?” Cyprus asked.
“Come on and look. France was all bruised on his neck, and America was stumbling around, and Japan was almost rude! And Prussia stopped their argument the moment he walked in the door!”
Northern Cyprus, who had been holding the puffin, dropped it. It squawked unhappily and flapped its wings. “We should go now,” he said. “Baba brought his old swords with him in case Babbás started carrying around his cross again. I’ll get it and we can sharpen the stakes.”
“It’s Saturday now, so we can attack them tonight and fix this. I’ll go get some garlic,” Cyprus said, and dashed off. “You watch Lundar and we’ll be back.”
Sealand put the stakes down by the door and waited for them to come back, watching the ice melt while the puffin flapped its wings and investigated the growing puddle of water.
In order to keep Sweden and Finland from getting suspicious, Sealand tried to keep his routine normal. He went to bed at his normal time, ten, but lay awake in the double bed he had all to himself, pretending that Sweden and Finland were keeping him awake.
Eventually Finland changed into his pyjamas and got into the other bed, and Sweden took a shower. Sweden turned the lights out before he went to lie down in bed with Finland. Sealand pretended to sleep while keeping his eyes open.
After a long time of listening to his own breathing and waiting for his eyesight to adjust to the darkness, he looked at the clock. Not even eleven. One AM would never come.
But of course it did. At ten to one, he slid out of bed, trying to get over to his suitcase so he could dress.
“What’re y’doin’?”
Sealand jumped, shock stretching cold down his spine.
“Going to the bathroom” he lied, sighing. There was no way he’d be able to sneak out of the room if Sweden was awake.
He went into the bathroom, and when he left Sweden was sitting up in bed. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, so he was squinting intimidatingly over at Sealand. The effect was ruined a little, though, by Finland, who had thrown an arm over Sweden’s waist and was curled up in a position obviously meant for Sweden to wrap around. Sealand looked away. Gross. Parents weren’t supposed to get smoochy like that.
Sealand went back to bed, mentally apologizing to the Cypruses as he did so.
“Night,” Sweden said gently, bed sheets rustling as he lay back down. Finland’s breathing changed a little as he stirred, not waking, at Sweden moving.
“Good night.” There was no way Sealand would be able to sleep tonight, worrying that Russia would attack Finland – everyone already knew he thought Finland was tasty – and Finland would drain Sweden and then Sealand would be alone.
In the morning, right after Sweden and Finland went to an EU meeting, Sealand went hunting the Cypruses.
He found Northern Cyprus sitting in the hotel restaurant eating a bowl of grapes.
“I’m sorry!” Northern Cyprus cried before Sealand could start his apology. “I fell asleep and when I woke up it was morning!”
“It’s okay. I couldn’t leave the room because Sweden woke up when I tried.”
Northern Cyprus blinked back tears. “Oh. Now I don’t feel bad.”
“Yeah,” Sealand agreed, looking around at the rest of the restaurant. “Where’s Cyprus?”
“Dunno.” Northern Cyprus skinned a grape before popping it in his mouth. “He’s staying with Babbás, so I haven’t seen him since Babbás and Baba got back from their meeting and saw us together and started fighting and then dragged us away from each other.” He sniffled a bit. “I hope America doesn’t eat Baba.”
“We won’t let him. Let’s go look for Cyprus, then.”
Northern Cyprus obediently picked up the bunch of grapes h was eating and trotted after Sealand.
They checked Iceland’s room first, but no one answered when they knocked. Greece’s room was empty too.
They only looked out into the courtyard when they heard Pochi barking, and there was Cyprus, petting a wigglingly happy Pochi.
“We’re sorry we didn’t meet you,” Sealand said, once he and Northern Cyprus had run down the stairs and were closer than shouting-distance. “He fell asleep and Sweden was awake so I couldn’t leave.”
“It’s okay,” Cyprus said, while Northern Cyprus leaned over to scratch behind Pochi’s ears. “Babbás didn’t even go to bed, since he was sleeping through all the conferences, so I couldn’t get out.”
Sealand swallowed. “You mean nobody staked Prussia?”
Cyprus shook his head.
Sealand sat down in desperation on the edge of a nearby planter. “What are we going to do?”
“Maybe he hasn’t woken up yet,” Northern Cyprus suggested. “He’s a vampire and vampires don’t like the daytime. So he’s probably still asleep. If we can get into his room now maybe we can still do it.”
They paraded into the back of the auditorium where the meeting was being held and stood behind Germany and Italy, who were in the audience. Italy was happily slurping up pasta, with Germany wincing at each little pop of noodle-ends entering Italy’s mouth. Sealand figured it was probably charity to distract him. There was sauce all over his notes.
“Herr Deutschland,” Sealand said, trying to be polite and say it properly but mangling it anyway, “do you know where Herr Preußen is?”
“Asleep,” Germany replied shortly. He had deep circles under his eyes, as though he hadn’t slept the night before, or like he was dead.
“We want to talk to him, so do you have a keycard to his room that we can borrow?”
“Don’t try to tickle him awake. He punches.”
“We won’t,” Cyprus whispered.
Germany fished around in the back pocket of his suit and finally handed them a keycard. “If you get broken bones,” he muttered, “it’s not my fault and I didn’t give you this.”
“Thank you, sir,” Northern Cyprus whispered, clutching Pochi close to his chest, and they filed out of the room.
They wandered around getting lost for a while, trying to find the room that was listed as Prussia’s on the official conference booklet. It took them a little while, but they eventually found it when they realized that he was next door to Germany.
After distributing the stakes, they knocked on the door. No answer. Sealand said “Herr Preußen!” a couple of times.
Finally Cyprus knocked again and said, “Room service!” and suddenly there were footsteps, coming nearer the door.
Sealand stared at Cyprus and hissed, “He’s going to think we’re for eating!”
Cyprus opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t say anything because that was when the door opened.
Prussia was wearing nothing but his Teutonic cross and boxers printed with a double-headed eagle. He stared at the three standing at his door, like they stared at him, before he said, “Jesus, and here I was hoping for lunch.” There was a big scar on his chest, from right over his heart to the the the left corner of his abs.
“Aren’t you going to eat us?” Northern Cyprus piped up, still scritching at Pochi’s ears. “I bet our blood tastes yummy –”
Prussia looked at him sidelong, brows furrowing. “Are you trying to make a dig about how Christians drink blood and eat babies?”
Sealand shifted, hiding the stake better behind his back. They had to get inside the room if they wanted to stake him without anyone figuring things out. Or at least, not before there was time for them to stake the rest of the vampires. “We’re looking for Lundar,” Sealand fibbed. “He escaped and we want to play with him. Did he get in your room?”
“Who’s Lundar?”
Cyprus brushed past Prussia through the doorway. “He’s Iceland’s puffin, and he’s very quiet, so if he is hear you wouldn’t know.” He peered under the bed, still carrying the wooden stake like it was unremarkable, then behind the curtains.
“Hey now,” Prussia said, turning to watch him and taking a couple steps inside the room, “what are you doing? Get out. Wait – aren’t you supposed to be at the – ”
“I’m engaging in diplomatic talks with my brother,” Cyprus said delicately. “Lundar, are you here?”
“Attack, Pochi!” Northern Cyprus cried, and set Pochi on the floor right in front of Prussia.
Pochi proceeded to sniff Prussia’s bare feet and sneeze.
Prussia reached to pick up Northern Cyprus and throw him over his shoulder. “I have no idea what’s going on,” he said, “but this is too weird even for me. What the –” He slid Northern Cyprus off his shoulder and then turned to look at his back, where Northern Cyprus had tried to stick the stake in his back and had succeeded in poking him enough to draw blood but not to do any damage. And had then dropped the stake on the floor.
“Run!” Sealand cried, and they all fled the room, pausing only to retrieve Pochi.
They ran and hid in Greece’s room for a while, then Sealand snuck back to the hotel room he was sharing with Sweden and Finland, only to find when he opened the door –
“Hey, brat,” Prussia said, from his seat in the desk chair, across from Finland and Sweden. “Took the opportunity to visit my cousins.”
Sealand shivered. Sweden and Finland were both wearing suits and ties and were sitting up straight, looking very official. Sealand understood suddenly how everyone else could be terrified of Sweden, and well, somehow the clothing had gathered up all Finland’s usual energy until he looked small and intense and scary, like there was a rifle and a Russian soldier in front of him.
“Sit down, Sealand,” Finland said. His voice was cold.
Sealand shuffled over to the other bed and sat on the edge.
“What were you trying to do in my room?” Prussia asked. He was grinning, but Sealand didn’t think it was a smile. Prussia’s canine teeth were very big, and looked very sharp.
“That’s need-to-know information and –”
“It’s not.” Sweden bit the words out.
Sealand opened his mouth, then closed it. If he said anything Prussia would know he knew and then he’d know that Sweden and Finland knew and they’d be in danger and he couldn’t. But they could always tell when he was lying.
“I saw the G8 members yesterday,” he mumbled, staring down at the floor. “And they’re really sick, and Canada and France had bruises on their necks. Like bites. And then Italy was acting like he wanted to bite Germany’s neck. Like a vampire. They’re all vampires. We wanted to save everyone else.”
Prussia let out a bark of laughter. “Well, wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to kill me for the good of the world.”
“Sealand,” Finland said, “We’re ashamed of you. You’re old enough to know that vampires don’t exist.”
“’n attempted murder’s not the best way t’carry out international relations,” Sweden added.
“It wasn’t just me!” Sealand cried, looking up at Sweden and Finland. “Cyprus and Northern Cyprus were there too!”
Both their faces froze and the room temperature seemed to drop several degrees.
“I'll pretend y’didn’t say that,” Sweden ground out.
Prussia twitched his head a little, like maybe he was nodding. “Don’t rat out your buddies, brat. They’re all you’ve got other than your dads. And they pulled you up in front of the big bad vampire. Besides, I’m going to go talk to Greece and Turkey next.” He half-smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I promise, I’m not gonna eat anyone. Those guys just partied too late, is all. I was bringing painkillers for them, since I remember what it’s like trying to go through a conference with a hangover.”
“Oh.” Sealand clenched his hands on top of his thighs. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”
“Nah, it’s all right. Just stung. Didn’t do any harm. “ He leaned forward and slid Sealand’s hat off his head before ruffling his hair a little. “Maybe you should come spend some time with me and West, see how big bad undead Nations live for a change.”
Sealand nodded helplessly and sat there cold and confused while Finland and Sweden saw Prussia to the door.
After Prussia was gone, Finland closed the door, turn around and said, “I’m sure you know that you’re grounded.”
Sealand tried to scrunch himself a little smaller. So much for joining the G20 sometime soon.
“- and then the kid had the balls to stab me! Can you believe that?” Prussia, gesturing expansively, sloshed yet more beer onto the table.
Germany opted to ignore this in the face of more pressing concerns. “Maybe demilitarisation-”
Only to be ignored as Prussia added, “I like his guts. Good for an island to have guts. Even not islands should have guts. Speaking of islands with guts, Japan. Fuck. You should have seen him and America and Canada at the party, but no, you have no balls, West. Do you know why? Because they are in the palm of North Italy’s hand.” Prussia laughed uproariously and fell face-first onto the table, soaking his dress shirt in beer. Then he added, still face-first into the wood, “Hey, you know what? Eichbaum tastes better when you lick it off a table.”
“I’m sure it does,” Germany sighed. “Are you too drunk to walk back to your room?”
“No,” Prussia declared. “And it doesn’t matter how drunk I am, because my Liver Of Steel and Awesome can handle everything. You will be hungover tomorrow and be easily mistaken for the living dead by small nations with large testicles. I will be fresh, like a daisy or possibly unstarched laundry.”
“Unstarched?”
“You have all the starch.”
“Oh.”
“So anyway I went and talked to their parents, and Jesus, I knew Sweden was scary but Finland had the freaking enormousest balls in the room, and that is saying something since I was there. That went okay, and then I had to go talk to Greece and Turkey and you know what? I don’t even want to know. I don’t even want to know. They just need to get laid. Seriously. Parenting just kills your sex life, unless Grandpa Germania figured something out that we haven’t. Rome did. And you’ve got his grandson. Figure it out, West. I want you still getting laid even after you give me little curly-haired idiot nephews. Or nieces. Switzerland doesn’t count. He doesn’t like pasta and is no fun to play with."
Germany put his face in his hands. “I’ll remember,” he sighed.
