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Post by The Netherlands on Aug 8, 2011 9:34:39 GMT -5
August 2nd, 1831. Near Nieuwkerk, on the Belgian-Dutch border. It was early in the morning as the Netherlands reached the south of his lands; or perhaps he’d have to start thinking about it as his border soon. That detail didn’t cross the man’s mind at that moment though, his thoughts were focussed elsewhere. His sister might be revolting against him, but these lands were his. And if he could help it, that wouldn’t change.
He couldn’t believe he hadn’t been able to suppress the revolts in the first place. Of course, what did he expect. At least two thirds of the troops he had stationed here consisted out of people that were on her side. Would it kill them to show some loyalty? Would it kill her? Not to mention Luxembourg, who had chosen to aid her. It was shameful.
It doesn’t matter. He told himself. I’ll teach them to show some respect.
He would be lying if he said he was at his strongest now. His best troops were overseas, taking care of his colonies. But it would be enough. His armies still outweighed those of his siblings. As far as he was aware, Belgium hadn’t taken much steps in the direction of building a proper army to fight him. She probably didn’t expect to see him now in this way, either. Her confidence was foolish. All the more reason why he wouldn’t let her get away from him.
If she thought she could make it as a nation on her own like this, she couldn’t be more wrong. When he looked at her, what he saw was a naive little girl. Grown since the time they had first met, definitely. But an adult? No. He was the one who made these lands prosperous. He was the one who controlled the trade and made the economy flourish. She should be thankful that he took care of her.
The Southern Netherlands was important to him. His second capital was located there, plus it was an important area for trading. As a country who lived from trading, losing it would definitely not benefit him at all. His position in the world wasn’t as secure as it used to be as it was. He wouldn’t allow to weaken himself further.
Putting this aside, his sister was important to him on a more personal level, too. Despite what it might look like to others sometimes, or what it might look like to her, he really did care about her. They might not be related through blood, like human siblings, but their bond through the ages had certainly been strong. That was something he could not ignore. Good luck getting the man to admit this to anyone though. He was sure that if he let her go, he’d see her in someone else’s hands in no time. And this was something he wanted to make sure never happened.
His strides were confident and strong. He was determined to put this all to an end as he saw the township of Nieuwkerk growing closer. So far he had been able to avoid trouble while advancing into the south. He had the feeling that wouldn’t be for long anymore though. Netherlands was quickly nearing the parts that his sister considered hers. He expected the people to put up a fight, but he was prepared for some resistance. Once he was in ‘her’ territory, it wouldn’t be long until she would hear about it either. Knowing her, she’d most likely come to face him about it. Which is exactly what he wanted.
This is his land.
He would win this. Notes:- This is the first time for me starting a thread like this, so if I did anything wrong, please tell me so I can fix it. ;w;
- I didn’t make up the title. It’s a quote by Israel Zangwill. I thought it was interesting since it can be taken in a few different ways. And I think it reflects Netherlands’ struggles a bit, so...
- Figured it made the most sense to start on the first day of the Ten Days’ Campaign. The first fights were at Nieuwkerk, so I thought I’d start there.
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Post by angelinehofstee on Aug 16, 2011 14:05:26 GMT -5
In the city of Nieuwkerk, Belgium waited for her big brother. But it wasn't a happy reunion, no, this was a revolution. She saw it as a progression into woman-hood. He saw it as she had no idea what she was doing.
"Not like he knows everything..."
"What Miss?" said a soldier that happened to be loading his rifle next to her.
"Oh nothing." she replied softly.
Belgium watched as things were prepared, moved and used. Everyone was preparing for the first major fight with the dutch in this campaign. Belgium had been disguised as a nurse; it was the only way she could be in the army without questions asked. And she didn't really mind, she enjoyed caring for her soldiers. But no mistake should be made, she was prepared to be lethal.
Still there was a lump in her throat, and butterflies in her stomach. Belgium hadn't fought against her brother in a long time. The first time she didn't like to think about. She still felt guilt about how she refused to be with him. But it was for her happiness, as this time would be. She shouldn't feel any guilt! Only resolve! Maybe it was more than her brother, was she really ready to be her own nation? Was she scared of that?
It's a big world out there...many nations were stronger than her, stronger than her brother... How would she be able to protect her people? This was a constant debate with her. She could always make amends with her brother, but if her people were massacred she couldn't bring them back or make up for it. She also considered how it was not only her choice, her people's choice. Sure she could have her own private desires and feelings, but this was something the country of Belgium wanted. They were willing to pay the price in a sense.
Belgium still was not totally willing to pay the price of upsetting her brother, however.
Men began to move out, get in formation and the building began to get quieter and quieter. Soon they had all left. Belgium stood alone for a while. The emptiness of the room soothed her, and gave her a chance to put herself together and be ready. The sun's light poured in through the tall windows and warmed her skin. She closed her eyes and put her mind to rest.
(( sorry I'm so late ;A;! So busy >>
and its short ...;;;;
I was thinking Lux could meet her in the building but do whatever you like! =)
))
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Post by Luxembourg on Aug 20, 2011 9:24:59 GMT -5
For as long as he could remember, Luxembourg had been controlled by another nation. It always came down to who was stronger, who had more troops, who could get what they wanted most effectively. One year it was the Holy Roman Empire, the next the French and later, still, the Prussians. He hadn’t known the sweetness of independence for centuries.
There had been a brief glimmer of autonomy when he stood as Lucilinburhuc, his crown monument the formidable Bock, but any hopes of using his newfound strength to become his own nation quickly dissipated as he was shuffled between his different rulers. He could hardly remember the Celtic Treveri that had inhabited his lands when he was little more than a young, barbaric child.
He’d had their languages imposed on him and their cultures mingled together until he was unsure of what was proper under the rule of one house and disallowed under another. Since he was a child, he’d been primped and polished and crafted to be what they wanted him to be – a fortress, a servant, a soldier, a child. It was true that he was proud of his strength, so much of which he had that he earned the title Gibraltar of the North, but just once he would have liked to use it for his own gains.
So when he heard that his sister, Belgium, was revolting against their elder brother’s rule, Yannik was overwhelmed with a sense of pride. She and her people deserved to know freedom. Perhaps it was his youth and naivety, but somehow he knew that she would do well and was assured that she would prevail.
Even more ecstatic was he to learn that his own people were eager to assist the Belgian cause. Yannik was sure he knew how they felt – in yearning for their own independence and ever searching for their identity as Luxembourgers, they were more than willing to aid another group fighting for their own freedom. Their devotion was so strong that they had given the ultimate sacrifice; they'd allowed themselves to be considered part of Belgium.
Now as he was approaching a large building in Nieuwenkerk, surrounded by dozens of compatriots and nervously clutching his rifle, the young nation wondered how the war would unfold. Yan had never been particularly close to his sister up until this point in his life. Even though they were siblings and subjects under the same household, he saw very little of her. He hoped that she would be appreciative of his and his peoples’ support. And he was worried of Netherlands’ reaction. In supporting his sister, he hoped it wouldn’t mean making an enemy of his brother.
As they marched closer to the building, Yan could see that Belgian fighters were beginning to file out of it. Quickly, his people raced to join them, falling into file with their brethren and awaiting the orders of Belgian generals. Yannik stepped to the side a bit out of the thick crowd and scanned it for any trace of Angeline.
She was not to be found.
Yannik worried for a moment that he’d received the wrong meeting location when his boss had been given the message that they were to meet the Belgians in Nieuwenkerk. But that surely could not be so, as the Belgian troops stood before him in their ranks.
Then maybe…[/color] Yannik’s attention turned to the building behind him. He’d seen the men leaving that building, so it was possible that his sister was still inside. He hurriedly dashed inside, making his way down the long halls and peeking into open doorways as he passed them. Empty… Empty… Empty… When at last he came across a room with a person, he nearly overlooked it. He was not looking for a nurse, he was looking for a nation—
Yannik stopped and took a few paces back. Nation or not, she was still female; it would have been scandalous for Angeline to have been in the uniform of a man. He studied the woman’s figure for a moment. Her back was turned to him and she hadn’t seemed to notice his presence. For a second, the Luxembourger was unsure if this woman was actually Belgium, but some invisible force let him know that yes, this being was not a human.
He meekly cleared his throat and gave a little, “Belgium,” waiting for her to face him before continuing, lifting the hand not carrying the rifle in a sharp salute. “Luxembourg at your service.”
[[Woo, sorry this took so long, guys! Alright, so as you probably can tell, I always assumed that during the Revolution is when Luxembourg develops his deep devotion to his sister. During this time period, Luxembourg was considered part of Belgium. Before then, they really didn’t have too much in common.]]
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Post by The Netherlands on Sept 18, 2011 14:27:35 GMT -5
As the Dutch army neared the village, people started to move out of the buildings. So they did plan on putting up a fight. It seemed like they had decided to mark this as their border. For now he only saw the shapes of humans moving around, but he suspected they were armed. Netherlands didn’t like it, but he wasn’t particularly worried. Some resistance had been calculated into the plan, that’s why he came here with an army in the first place.
Lars heard his commander shout orders to get ready for battle. The commander didn’t appear intimidated by the pathetic excuse of an army either. Good. Netherlands quickly readied his riffle and got into his place in the formation. He himself was hidden among his people. Just a regular soldier, nobody to suspect otherwise. Nobody that knew he already had countless battles on his name.
He wondered if Belgium was hidden somewhere in this village, or if she was taking refuge elsewhere. As a woman, she couldn’t be found on the battlefield. She’d have to have a different excuse to be here. Netherlands wasn’t sure why, call it a nation’s instinct, but he did expect to find his sister in one of those buildings. That’s why the Dutchman had joined this part particular of his troops. Parts of his army were already on their way to surrounding villages as well.
As the Dutch troops marched into Nieuwkerk the fight began. Fighting off the Belgians helped him to get rid of part of the anger that had been building up inside of him. It was quite a relief. However, it also got him more worked up, making him become rather reckless and pay less attention to what was happening around him. He was quickly punished for that mistake by a Belgian soldier which rammed the end of his riffle into Lars’ face.
He got knocked back for a moment, but recovered in time to take the guy out and prevent further blows to his head. His sister had often told him he shouldn’t be such a hardheaded jerk. Heh, Lars smirked, seems like that hard head of mine does come in handy, huh.
Lars didn’t plan on fighting along with his people for long though. He needed to find Belgium and talk her out of this crazy idea of becoming her own country. It was most likely that she was in one of the buildings further into the village. Probably where they took care of their wounded, since the only women on the battlefield Netherlands could think of right now were nurses.
As soon as they progressed enough into the village for him to sneak off into an alleyway he did so, a few of his men on his tail. For a guy his size, he could be surprisingly agile and light on his feet. He had a little more space here than in the crowded main street, so whenever he encountered the enemy, he could more easily manoeuvre around them and have his soldiers deal with them. He didn’t have time to deal with every single person that wanted to stop him right now.
When he was a little further removed from the battlefield he took a moment to catch his breath, continuously looking over his shoulder if there wasn’t anyone around. Unfortunately for the Dutchman, from now on it was more about stealth than strength. He needed to find the place Belgium was hiding out and get in there without attracting too much attention. They didn’t need civilians present during an argument between nations.
Lurking in the shadows, Netherlands studied the movements of the people in the streets. He noticed one building where all their wounded were carried into. That had to be the one. Now it was the case to get in. The front wasn’t an option, they’d recognize his uniform right away. So that left either the back door or possibly a window. Lars sneaked around the back of the building. All the windows seemed to be shut and secured. He found a back door, which, naturally, was locked. Because life just loved to screw him over.
Yet, the Dutchman didn’t spend much time fussing about it. After expertly picking the lock (a skill he would never admit having), Netherlands was in. A quick look around told him that the coast was clear for now. He walked down a hallway, trying to make his footsteps as soft as possible, and not entirely succeeding. Being used to walking with a clear sense of confidence and authority in his step, it felt unnatural to him to try and keep his presence hidden. Plus he had to move quickly if he didn’t want to be found out by someone else before he found his sister and his army boots weren’t exactly the most quiet footwear.
He heard some voices from down the hall, and halted for a moment. Staying close to the wall, Lars slowly neared the door. He could make out a male and a female voice. And these particular voices sounded very familiar in Lars’ ears.
His plan to listen in on their conversation was ruined by a misstep, making him stumble. He didn’t have much time to scold himself, since they probably heard him inside. Now that he’d made his presence clear, he might as well stop trying to hide himself, Netherlands figured. With a swift step he appeared in the door opening. Like he expected, he indeed laid eyes on his siblings.
He cleared his throat and leaned, if it wasn’t for the anger clearly displayed on his face, almost nonchalantly against the doorframe. “Morning.” (( I’ve had this post done for a couple of days already, but I unexpectedly had some problems with my internet connection. Apologies for the delay. ))
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