Strange Delegation (Russia)

[Russia]

Ivan had watched with a sort of playful curiosity as America had reached for the bottle of offered vodka and then taken a drink. He didn’t know what was more amusing, the fact that America had taken such a relatively small drink, or the fact that his new friend had seemed so quick to put the bottle down. Watching the watery-eyed nation cough, Ivan had not been able to help but chuckle. Surely the other nation was now realizing how vastly superior the vodka was to his nasty beer. With that kind of a burn, how could he think otherwise?

He had supposed America was right though, vodka wassort of an acquired taste. Russia himself was not sure when he had first tasted the stuff, but he did recall that his first encounter had left him spluttering and coughing as well. Especially since he was fairly sure that he had been smaller physically back then and thus far less alcohol tolerant. But after drinking the stuff every day for so long, Russia had built up one hell of an alcohol tolerance over the years. The burn no longer bothered him in the least. In fact, he hardly even noticed it anymore.

Ivan watched as America took another drink of his beer. How the man could even think about drinking that stuff after having had a sip of the far superior vodka was beyond his understanding. Again, he figured that America must had taken after England too much there.

“People were already calling them that by the time I was born.”

The violet-eyed Russian stared at America in fascination. His natural curiosity about other nations had been amplified in recent years, and any new bits of cultural information were always regarded with mild excitement from the blonde.

“But… I think it’s Spain’s fault. Apparently he started calling them Indians because he thought he’d reached the Indies, or something like that? That’s what I was told.”

So Spain had named them? How the Spaniard could think he had reached the Indies was confusing. They seemed a long distance apart to Ivan. But not knowing much about Spain personally, who knew what the Spanish nation had been thinking. Russia himself had not at first expected to find so much unexplored land in this general location, so he couldn’t entirely blame the other nations for any confusion they might have felt when they first encountered such a place.

Then his new friend was explaining that it was easier to continue to refer to them simply as “Indians,” and that there were many tribes with many different languages and names.

“I can barely keep them all straight myself.”

The overly curious Russian couldn’t blame America for having problems keeping them all straight in that case. He would surely be just as confused if he were in such a situation with so many tribes. “It sounds really confusing.” he admitted, wondering if America knew many of the Indian languages. Or did he just wave his guns and shout at them in English to scare them off whenever he encountered them on land he wanted to claim?

“Do you have things like Indians in your house, Russia? I guess there aren’t any in most of Europe, but what about where you are?”

The flaxen-haired country studied America in silence for a bit as he considered the question. “There are some groups similar to that in Siberia. Also up north in a few places. I have not encountered them as much though. All I know is that they live much more primitively than the rest of my population and don’t consider themselves “Russian” in most cases.” He tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice concerning that fact. How much simpler things would be for those vanishing groups if they would just hurry up and accept Russian culture. Many of them were slowly starting to in the Siberian region, but they were not as quick to drop their own cultural identities as Ivan would like.

He took another long drink of his liquor and leaned back in his chair. “I have to deal with other countries far more than I do them though. And as I am sure you are learning through your current war, that can be more difficult and time consuming.” Not that his recent war with Turkey had yielded horrible results. He had gained some seaports out of the conflict after all. Not to mention money for war reparations.

The sounds of a group of rowdy men settling at the table next to them drew his thoughts back to the present. Pulling his gaze from his bottle of vodka, he studied the men idly for a moment, wondering what they were so animatedly talking about. “What do your people like to do to entertain themselves? When they are not engaged in fights with the English, that is.”

[America]

Date: August, 1778
Charles Town, South Carolina

Alfred was surprised to feel relief when Russia admitted to having his own Indian problem at home. He wasn't sure why...maybe it was because the whole situation had been bothering Alfred for a while. None of the so-called cultured nations in Europe had to worry about Indians running around in their houses and attacking their people, Alfred could figure that out just from the times England had mentioned his sailors taking home captured Indians home as exotic trophies.

It certainly didn't help matters to have England tell him he couldn't let his people go west as much as they liked. Just because the Indians were already there...what kind of reason was that anyway?!

Instead of bringing up any of that, Alfred just grinned and waved a dismissive hand.

"You're not really missing anything by not having them as part of your people. Indians are generally kind of weird in the head anyway."

[/color]

“I have to deal with other countries far more than I do them though. And as I am sure you are learning through your current war, that can be more difficult and time consuming.”[/color]

Alfred sighed, sagging in his chair.

"Oh god, really? I'd rather stick with just chasing Indians! Every other nation I've met has been totally stuck-up and really unreasonable most of the time! ...Except for you, I mean. 'Cause you're a really awesome guy!"[/color] Alfred quickly added.

If being a nation meant more of these painfully meticulous and slow negations...granted, Alfred wasn't really doing any of the current negotiating himself (thank GOD for Dr. Franklin!), but that would probably change eventually. Not that the thought made Alfred want to go back to being a colony, mind, but it didn't exactly make nationhood an enticing concept. Thankfully, Russia changed the subject.

“What do your people like to do to entertain themselves? When they are not engaged in fights with the English, that is.”[/color]

Alfred took another swallow of his beer, grinning at the idea of shooting red-coated soldiers being a form of entertainment. It was kind of funny to fire on them from up in a tree and watch the posh and proper English officers throw a fit about Alfred's men 'cheating', though!

"Mostly just the usual things, I think,"[/color] Alfred replied, "Drinking and gambling are popular, of course."[/color]

He nodded at the rowdy table nearby, where both those activities were now underway.

"Then there's parties, dances...people like to get together and make music, y'know? Too bad there's nothing like that planned right now: I play one wicked fiddle,"[/color] Alfred added with a teasing smirk.

Teaching himself that had been fun! The poor music tutor had never forgiven Alfred for ruining his specially-made violin, but who cared?

"...Usually people are busy farming when they're not fighting,"[/color] Alfred had to concede in the end, "Can't expect them to let their fields all go to seed, right?"[/color]

Russia would understand, of course. The army couldn't run if it couldn't eat, right? The well-being of the soldiers and their families was the backbone of the whole war effort...especially since Alfred's soldiers made a point of deserting in droves when neither of those conditions were met.[/center]

[Russia]

Ivan had to agree with America when he had claimed that most nations he had met had been stuck-up and unreasonable. That sounded like a decent description of the world to him. Most the nations he had met with, or continued to have to meet with, tended to be less than amicable. And so very few of them seemed to be even remotely reasonable. Just look at nations like Poland, Sweden and the Baltics. Poland was never known for being reasonable, and nations like Lithuania just continually refused to realize that they would do so much better under his rule. It was completely unreasonable for any of his neighbors really to think that they should have sovereignty. Luckily he had claimed some territory in his last war with Sweden, so he had made steps in stomping some of that rebellious nonsense out conquered nations like Lithuania. Maybe in time he would be able to force a more reasonable mindset on those that he gained possession of.

Until then though, America was one of the very few that he had met who was not stuck-up or unreasonable. Well, at least, he had not appeared that way so far. At least he appeared to be nothing like England in personality, which made Ivan hope he won his independence all the more. Plus, he had stated that he had thought Ivan was “an awesome guy,” a compliment that had made Russia smile all the more. He had been called many things in his life, but as far as he could recall, “awesome” had never been one of them. Usually nations tended to pick unsavory words to describe him.

The Russian gave an understanding nod at America’s mention that drinking and gambling were popular past times in his land. Wasn’t it that way in most countries? It had been in most of the ones that Ivan had visited for sure. Or maybe that was just because it was one of his favorite past times and he had a tendency to gravitate to all the places where it was going on. In any case, it was hard to imagine a nation without gambling or drinking. His gaze followed America’s over to the nearby table again, where the men were enjoying frothy drinks and shuffling a deck of cards.

"Then there's parties, dances...people like to get together and make music, y'know? Too bad there's nothing like that planned right now: I play one wicked fiddle.”

Some things must have just been universal, for even his own lower class liked to get together to party and make music. The Russian stared at his friend with more curiosity though at the mention of a “fiddle.” He had no idea what that was, but it sounded interesting and exotic. He silently agreed that it was a shame his new friend did not have a chance to show off his skill with this strange instrument.

"...Usually people are busy farming when they're not fighting. Can't expect them to let their fields all go to seed, right?"

“Many of my people are the same.” Ivan admitted, watching idly as the shouting from the gamblers grew louder. Someone must have had a good hand over there. “The lower classes are always worrying about their fields it seems. Not that I can blame them with the rough weather that many of them face in my borders.” Raising the bottle once more, he took another couple gulps of the burning liquor. “As strange as this town looks, your people don’t seem so different from my own.” he noted cheerfully, setting the bottle down and ignoring the fact that America had brought up a only a few traits of his people that were widely shared by many cultures.

“Though, we don’t have…what did you call it? Fiddle?” He looked to the other man as though waiting to be corrected. Even in their common tongue, the word sounded exotic, since it was one he had never used before or heard used. “What is a fiddle?” The word itself sounded like it could describe any type of instrument, though Ivan got the distinct feeling that it was not a woodwind of any sort, or a horn. Though he spoke to America, he kept his gaze focused on the rowdy card-players who were either having too much fun or were starting to get upset. Not knowing much English, it was near impossible for Ivan to tell which it was.

[America]

Date: August, 1778
Charles Town, South Carolina

Alfred nodded at Russia's reply, though he did have to wonder about the weather the other nation must have. While there were a few...oddities about weather depending where you were on the coast and what time of year it was, Alfred's people generally had no problems when it came to farming.

The days when the colonies had been at perpetual risk of starvation and elimination rarely ever came to mind for him: Alfred had barely been old enough to be aware of himself, let alone what the humans were up to.

'I wonder what kind of weather could possibly make it difficult to farm?'

[/color] Alfred idly wondered.

“Though, we don’t have…what did you call it? Fiddle? What is a fiddle?”[/color]

"You really don't have fiddles in your house?"[/color] Alfred responded, sounding just as baffled as his new friend did.

Poor Russia, missing out on something as fun as fiddling! Though how to explain it to someone who'd never seen a fiddle before...? His hands rose to hold an invisible fiddle as Alfred slowly came up with something.

"Let me see if I can explain it properly...a fiddle is this kind of stringed instrument that you play. You have this other thing called a bow and it rubs the strings to make noise...right, it's just like a fancy violin! Only instead of being all snooty and dignified you play it hard and fast and stomp your feet!"[/color]

Alfred punctuated this with a cheerful laugh. Maybe he hadn't really invented the fiddle, but he was damn sure no one else played as awesomely as he did! His laugh trailed off rather suddenly when someone at the rowdy table nearby slammed their fist against the wooden surface.

He glanced over his shoulder at the table in curiosity, but the fist-smacker was talking intently to his buddies in a low voice about something and Alfred couldn't make out any of the exact words. It sounded like he was angry, though...well, as long as that anger stayed over there Alfred wasn't going to bother with it. His people were the kind of people that liked saying their mind! Alfred certainly had no interest in taking that away from any of them.

'Maybe we can make that a specific part of the Articles,'[/color] Alfred mused, 'I should probably ask someone at the Congress when I'm back in Pennsylvania...'[/color]

"Is this the only stop you're making during your trip, Russia?"[/color] Alfred asked, deciding to change the subject a little, "If you're going to be looking around further north, I could probably introduce you to some of my bosses!"[/color]

General Washington, at least, would be someone Alfred would definitely want to introduce Russia to. Awesome people like them would definitely get along! It'd be a shame not to![/center]

----
- 'Oddities' in the weather = hurricanes~

- 'The Articles' would be the Articles of Confederation, which were being formalized at this time. It's not until after the revolution that people noticed they were pretty useless to base a government off of and wrote the Constitution to replace them~

- Actually, it wouldn't be too surprising for Alfred to be the target of this group's drunken ire. He's in continental regalia and the southern colonies were notorious for their large loyalist population~

[Russia]

"You really don't have fiddles in your house?"

For a moment the Russian allowed his silence to confirm that he did not have those in his house. “Нет. No fiddles.” he affirmed, swirling the vodka around in the bottle absently as he focused on his companion. Should he have fiddles in his lands? America made it sound like most countries must have had them. Was Russia missing out on something important here? He watched curiously as America moved his hands up as though he were holding a violin or something.

"Let me see if I can explain it properly...a fiddle is this kind of stringed instrument that you play. You have this other thing called a bow and it rubs the strings to make noise...right, it's just like a fancy violin!"

Bright violet eyes seemed almost to light up at the explanation. So it was like a violin! The ashen haired nation felt suddenly very proud of himself for having been on the right track with his thoughts and guesses concerning the mysterious "fiddle."

“Only instead of being all snooty and dignified you play it hard and fast and stomp your feet!"

So it was played less like how he had seen Austria play his violin, and more like how a drunken man would play it after too many shots of hard liquor? This “fiddle” sounded fun already! Not that he didn’t like the beautiful and sophisticated sound of a violin in the hands of an expert musician. He did. It was one of his favorite instruments in fact. At the same time though, America made this fiddle sound more lively and fun. Who didn’t love to stomp their feet while playing an instrument? If Ivan ever wanted to learn violin, he figured he would surely try and play it in the same exciting manner that America described the fiddle as being played as.

He was about to say something when a man nearby decided to pound his fist into the table. Ivan glanced over hurriedly, wondering if the man was attempting to show his buddies how strong he was. If that was the case, Ivan assumed he had failed in it. The table didn’t have any sort of damage at all from the blow. Normal people could be so weak sometimes. Ivan suspected he was not the strongest nation out there physically, but he was sure he could have done a better job damaging the table than that man did.

"Is this the only stop you're making during your trip, Russia? If you're going to be looking around further north, I could probably introduce you to some of my bosses!"

“I am not sure if this is going to be the only stop. I think I might be going home to St. Petersburg after this though. I want to stay close to my traders and return when they do.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “Although I would love to go north and see your bosses some time.”

Before he could say more, the man who had previously pounded his fist into the table wandered over to where the two nations were, his expression looking to be a mixture of pure rage and agitation. And drunkenness of course. Russia almost felt the urge to laugh at the man as his shaky movements gave away the fact that he had had too much to drink. Anyone who could get drunk off this place’s beer was clearly someone to laugh at. The men who had been with the man accompanied him too, though they seemed content to let the larger, rougher looking man speak.

“You got some nerve coming here wearin’ tha.” The ruffian stated in a gruff voice.

Of course Russia had no idea what the man was saying, since he spoke English. Even if those had been words Ivan had heard before, they were spoken with a slur, making them instantly more difficult to understand. His violet eyes drifted to America in confusion. The less than friendly man seemed to be staring at America’s clothing, making Ivan do a double take and see what was so interesting. It looked like just a nice military uniform to him.

“Hows ‘bout you clearing’ outta here before ya make trouble for yerself.”

The man cracked his knuckles as he glared at Russia’s new friend, giving Ivan the distinct impression that the man was not in the least bit friendly. Should he do something to stand up for his friend? Or was America already planning on ways to cause the man some serious pain? Might he be offended if Russia was the first to punch the man? Always one who was quick to fight if he felt the least bit threatened, Ivan was already imagining smashing a heavy chair across the man’s slightly yellowed teeth. “What is he saying, America? Does he not like your clothing?”

Russia speaking a foreign language only seemed to anger the men more for some reason. The violet-eyed nation pushed back suddenly as the lead drunkard suddenly lunged for America himself, his buddies seeming to cheer him on in the background.

[America]

Date: August, 1778
Charles Town, South Carolina

Russia admitted that he didn't have fiddles back in his house, but there was another weird word in there. It kind of sounded like 'net', actually. Alfred didn't have much time to wonder what the word meant.

Unfortunately, it turned out that Russia wasn't going to be sticking around for very long. It probably made sense, too...if Russia was going to be meeting other people's bosses he probably needed to ask his own boss first. And maybe Alfred should ask his own bosses before inviting other nations over for visits too, but Alfred still wasn't sure if the Congress counted as his actual boss. Maybe General Washington did...arrrgh, being a nation without a single boss was really unnecessarily confusing!

Thankfully (or maybe not), Alfred didn't get much time to think about complex things like that. One of the men from the rowdy table nearby had stumbled over, and the look on his face wasn't too pretty. Turning in his seat to face the man, Alfred was less than pleased to see all the guy's buddies had followed him over.

'That SMELL isn't too fresh either,'

[/color] Alfred noted, his nose wrinkling as the stink of way too much liquor assaulted his senses.

"You got some nerve coming here wearin’ tha.”

...Ah, crap. Alfred really did like his people, he really did, but sometimes it was hard remembering that when he found himself face-to-face with Loyalists. Loyalists who were clearly drunk and spoiling for a fight were even worse. There was just something about the whole concept that really rubbed Alfred the wrong way...though at the moment rubbing didn't seem to be the problem he was facing.

“Hows ‘bout you clearing’ outta here before ya make trouble for yerself.” the lead drunk of the group continued.

He clearly intended to intimidate Alfred with that statement, and the irritated expression that appeared on the young nation's face only made the drunk man's face twist with rage.

“What is he saying, America? Does he not like your clothing?”[/color]

The sound of Russia's voice pulled Alfred's attention back on the other nation-spirit for a critical moment - which was just long enough for the drunk Loyalist's patience to snap and the man to lunge clumsily at him, fist flying. The alcohol in his system didn't do a damn thing to help the man's aim or his balance, however. Alfred could feel the breeze of the man's fist flying past his left ear just before the man himself toppled right on top of him.

"Gah - !"[/color]

Alfred only managed that very inarticulate yelp before his chair toppled over, sending him and the drunk crashing to the hard wooden floor of the pub. Dammit, this was not what he needed to happen right now! Right in front of his new friend too, how the hell was he supposed to be taken seriously as a new nation if this happened?!

Gritting his teeth, he shoved the drunk man off him and scrambled to his feet. None of the Loyalists looked particularly thrilled by what they'd just seen, especially as their drunkest buddy was still rolling around on the floor like an idiot, and Alfred could certainly empathize with their obvious frustration.

"Are you done making idiots out of yourselves now, gentlemen?"[/color]

Alfred's voice was low and tense, but he wasn't one to throw the first punch. And since the drunk man's punch had missed, he figured it didn't count. He had no idea what Russia might be thinking about this, but the angry, embarrassed flush in Alfred's cheeks were probably obvious.[/center]

----
- I AM SO FREAKING SORRY FOR THE DELAY. The ending of this post fought me tooth and nail. >.<;;

[Russia]

Apparently, the man had not only disliked America’s clothing, but downright hated them. The Russian watched with mild surprise as the man lunged for the other nation. It was actually comical in a way. Nations tended to be pretty strong by human standards, and to see someone so intoxicated try and pick a fight with one of their kind was enough to make Ivan almost laugh. The man did not know he was trying to win a fight with his country though. How could he when so few knew of their existence? But still, just the fact that America was not so wobbly and disoriented should have been enough to make the man think twice about picking a fight. But inebriated people never did take time to consider those things.

Not that Russia could honestly say much to the stupid ruffian. After he had downed enough vodka his judgment and balance were surely no better. How many drunken fights had Russia himself gotten into in just the last few years? It was not a small number. In his homelands, fighting in houses of drink was commonplace. Although, he had never picked a fight with someone over something as silly as clothing before. Or at least… if he did he did not remember it.

Even completely wasted though, Ivan still liked to think he must have had a better aim than this drunkard. Violet eyes fixed on the man as he swung for America’s face, only to miss and topple forward, knocking the other nation over. America had made a noise, but Ivan was not sure if it had actually been an English word or not. Maybe his friend had just requested help tossing the drunkard off him? It seemed unlikely, so the flaxen-haired Russian merely watched as the aggressive drunk was shoved off.

Ivan rose to his feet, eyes turning to the rowdy men who seemed to now be very upset. America said something in English to the men, which only brought about more scowls. Taking another long drink of the vodka, the Russian’s eyes were drawn down to the man on the floor, who seemed to have forgotten how to stand up in his drunken, pained state. “Why are they upset?” He questioned, eyes traveling back to America, who looked less than thrilled. “I think your uniform looks fine. Maybe they are jealous?”

Honestly not understanding the scope of the situation, Ivan was still ready to jump in and bash some chairs over skulls if an all out fight broke loose. Which was looking more and more like it would happen. The men started murmuring amongst each other even as Russia stepped closer to his country friend.

Then, the man on the floor was suddenly reaching out, grabbing onto America’s leg and trying to pull him down. At the same time, the other men appeared to have decided to cause more problems, and charged forwards. Being at this point fairly close to America-and clearly in association with him-the ruffians must have decided he needed a sound beating as well. Fists of varying degrees of drunkenness lashed out from in front of them, one of them catching the now annoyed Russian in the jawbone as he made to avoid a different swing from a different man. A shock of pain going through his lower jaw, Russia was quick to lash out instinctively with his own fist, catching his nearest attacker full on in the face and causing him to fall backwards.

Then Ivan heard some English words he did recognize, because he had been taught these words on the ship. It was common to learn the swears of another language long before the pleasantries, and English was surely no exception for the stocky Russian. Tossing a few Russian swears at their attackers, he set the vodka bottle down and reached for the nearby chair instead. No need to break the vodka bottle and waste good liquor. As pissed off as he was to have been struck and have them continue to throw punches and swears at both he and his new friend, Ivan had to admit that he enjoyed the chance for violence. There were few things more satisfying than the sound of a chair breaking upon impact with a man’s back. It was a sound Ivan was sure to grace the saloon with too, as he swung the mahogany chair right into another of the rowdy fighters.

[America]

Date: August, 1778
Charles Town, South Carolina

Things remain tense as Alfred and the Loyalists stared each other down. Most of them seemed well into their cups - though the idiot on the floor was clearly the most pickled of the bunch - but he was pretty sure they hadn't been at the next table long enough to even get tipsy.

...It wasn't like this was the only bar in town, though. This clearly wasn't the first one this bunch had been drinking in, either.

Alfred decided to risk taking his eyes off the Loyalists for a moment, to sneak a glance at Russia and see if he could figure out what the older nation thought about the situation. Russia was standing now, but...he just looked as delighted as he had before by everything that was going on. Heck, if anything Russia looked even more delighted by the fight brewing!

'He did say he liked to fight,'

[/color] Alfred belatedly recalled.

"“Why are they upset? I think your uniform looks fine. Maybe they are jealous?”[/color]

...He couldn't help it: Alfred laughed. Jealous?! Russia thought that was the problem here?

"Not exactly, but...I'll explain later,"[/color] Alfred managed to get out between chuckles.

Oh man, that was just too funny! Though maybe laughing wasn't the best idea, Alfred discovered a few seconds later. While the Loyalists clearly didn't know what he'd just told Russia, they damn well knew Alfred was getting a laugh at their expense.

The drunk on the floor, having given up trying to get back on his feet, grabbed Alfred around the leg and tried to pull him down. It didn't do much more than distract him, and when Alfred tried to shake the clinging leech off his foot one of his buddies charged in with a right straight.

Now Alfred lost his balance, tripping over the drunk holding his leg as he instinctively took a step back to avoid the blow - which still clipped his temple - and was down on the floor again in seconds. Almost as soon as he hit the ground, Alfred was being hauled back up by his collar.

"Send ya back t'yer mama in box, you little yank -"

Alfred's fingers finally reached the chair he was reaching for and brought it around without any warning, knocking the drunk - and possibly one of his teeth - back and shutting him up in one fell swoop.

"Come back when you can fight, old man!"[/color] Alfred jeered, grinning.

Normally he preferred to wrestle things that could actually fight back...like bears, for instance...but Alfred was willing to make a special exception today. The drunk, who would've been old enough to be Alfred's grandfather if he were human, took the bait immediately. Leaving off rubbing his now-bruised side, the Loyalist charged in swinging.

When Alfred took the hit to his shoulder and countered with a light one-two, the older fellow dropped like a ton of bricks. Alfred quickly checked to see if the guy was breathing, and he was, so that left the drunken leech clinging to his leg...

"Oi, geddoff!"[/color]

Shaking his leg furiously, Alfred watched the man's face bounce into his knee a couple of times. Other than getting the man's snot, drool and at least a small spatter of blood all over the nice white linen it didn't do a damn thing to do convince the man to let go. Alfred settled for poking at him with the chair he was still holding and watching Russia brawl with visible glee. Even with Alfred in uniform, Russia being obviously foreign meant he was still getting most of the attention.

The sight and sound of a chair being broken over one of their heads made Alfred wince, and not from imaging what that would've felt like. If the proprietor decided Russia and Alfred were to be blamed for the whole mess, then Alfred was going to have to pay for that chair!

"God damned Loyalists,"[/color] Alfred sighed.[/center]

----
- "old enough to be Alfred's grandfather if he were human" - since Alfred is 17 and this is the 18th century, the guy's probably in his late forties maybe?

- Pretty sure Alfred learned a little bit about brawling punching from Prussia if nobody else. Not sure England would've taught him that~

- The term "Yank", a.k.a. "Yankee" was definitely alive and well by this point~

[Russia]

Apparently, America liked to fight just as much as Ivan did. The other nation actually laughed with glee at the prospect of a good fight. Or at least, that is what Russia was thinking he was laughing at. The though that the other man was laughing at his question never occurred to him. Why would anyone laugh at such a reasonable question? Since he couldn’t understand such an action, he settled on a different reason for the American’s chuckles.

"Not exactly, but...I'll explain later.”

If the reason for the animosity was not his clothing, the Russian had been downright baffled as to what the problem could have been. Unless America owed these men some money? Or maybe they were just drunk and looking for a fight anyways? It happened in his lands, so why not here too? Of course, he had not had much time to think very hard on the matter.

There was more of the foreign sounding words being growled and shouted all around them. When he was able to spare a look at his fellow country, he noticed that America was having his own problems. It also appeared that he was not the only one set on using a chair as a weapon. America had grabbed one as well, and wasted no time swinging it into one of the men’s face. The sound of wood against flesh and bone was almost musical to Russia, who swung his mangled chair into another man’s waist, knocking him to the floor forcefully.

“This is fun. Your people know how to have a good time.” The Russian stated merrily, letting the chair drop to throw a punch into a persistent foe’s jaw. He had since decided that the men had started the fight just for the fun of it. If they were anything like his people, then after a few drinks it was probably only natural to want to unwind and start a brawl. It was a good way of relieving stress and tension. Of course they had not known they were challenging a pair of nations to a fist fight, or they might have decided to pick such a fight with someone else. But the turn of events was exciting for Ivan. He had not been off the ship and in this new land for long, and he was already in a fist fight.

After a bit, the only men left standing of the rowdy ruffians had wisely backed away from America and Russia. Their leader was making some feeble attempt to get up still, but he had scooted across the floor and away from America as best as he could. The man Russia had broken a chair over remained motionless on the floor were he had been struck, his back rising and falling as a visible sign of life, but he had either been knocked senseless, or he was simply in too much pain to attempt and get on his feet again. All of the men looked tussled and had signs of injury though. It was enough to make Ivan smile with glee as he studied the dark purple around one of the men’s eyes.

“Loyaleests?” The Russian questioned in heavily accented English, looking to America with a puzzled look. He had not understood most of the statement of course, but he clung to the last word, since it had been the longest and sounded most important. “What is loyalists?” He spoke to America in their common tongue, as he was not yet sure how to piece together important questions like that in English.

Removing his foot from one of the downed men who had been knocked to the floor, the Russian turned his attention to the bar keeper who was approaching with a deep frown. He must have surely been upset that he had missed out on the fun. He wasn’t alone though, so Ivan figured that he shouldn’t be too upset. After all, most of the other people in the bar had not jumped into the brawl, but instead had stood back and watched.

“Who started this mess?”

Not understanding the older looking man’s question, Ivan merely smiled and nodded his head. “Мы боролись." He explained cheerfully, gesturing towards the ruffians. It made sense that the barkeeper would be wondering what was going on, so Ivan only hoped he understood Russian. Well, he was sure that America was going to explain the same thing anyways in case he did not speak Ivan’s language. When the barkeeper approached the ruined chairs though and started talking to the beaten ruffians, it became apparent that he was still not at all happy.

“You started a fight in my bar and broke my chairs?” The barkeeper had sets his sights on America now, and appeared to be eyeing him with a certain amount of skepticism. “These will need to be paid for…” He pointed a boney finger at the chair that had been damaged.

“What does he want?” Ivan asked his friend innocently.
__________________________
((Мы боролись = We fought))

[America]

Date: August, 1778
Charles Town, South Carolina

Finally, after quite a bit of pokes from Alfred's chair, the drunk Loyalist clinging to his leg let go. Alfred watched him crawl off under another table and wondered if he'd remember the fight after he sobered up.

'Hopefully he remembers enough that he won't pick fights with soldiers any more,'

[/color] Alfred decided, 'If these fellows had found anyone else from the army to go after...I don't think it'd have worked out good for anybody!'[/color]

Putting the chair back on the floor, Alfred turned and saw that Russia was finishing up as well. He'd said he liked to fight, but Alfred wondered if love might have been a better word - Alfred wasn't sure he'd ever seen such a gleeful face before.

'His priorities are a little weird,'[/color] Alfred conceded to himself with a grin, 'But he's a good guy. I'm glad I met him!'[/color]

Alfred's smile was brought crashing down when the bartender, seeing that the fighting was over, came out from behind the bar to assess the damages. Oh man, that was not a happy expression! Though it probably wouldn't be bad, the guy had to have seen that Alfred and Russia hadn't started the fight, right?

“Loyaleests? What is loyalists?” [/color] Russia suddenly asked.

He wanted to snicker at the way Russia had sounded trying to say the word, but he had the vague idea that Russia would cheerfully bash in his head too, if the bigger nation thought Alfred was laughing at him. Instead, Alfred looked around for his uniform jacket: hopefully it didn't get all stained and dirty from the fight...

"Loyalists...well, they're what these guys are,"[/color] Alfred answered distractedly in the common tongue as he searched, "They're loyal. To, um, England."[/color]

Ah-ha! There it was! Alfred scooped his coat off the floor just as the barkeep finished deciding how much the fight was gonna cost whoever was getting the blame.

First on the man's list was Russia. And if he thought that he was going to be able to bully money out of Russia, Alfred thought with a snort, then this was bound to be a great show. Unfortunately for the bartender - or maybe fortunately, considering - Russia didn't understand a thing he was being asked and spouted off something in Russian that neither Alfred nor the bartender understood.

'Note to self...think about learning Russian maybe,'[/color] Alfred decided.

Next were the Loyalists, but aside from one lone member of the group who'd somehow had the sense not to join the fray they were all out for the count more-or-less.

"Don't blame us for this! We was provoked! That there Yank's the fellow you're looking fer!" the Loyalist insisted, pointing right at Alfred.

"That true, boy?" the bartender snapped at Alfred.

"What? No! We were minding our business! Your friends are the ones who started things!"[/color] Alfred immediately protested.

"Suppose we'll have to get the law on this case," the bartender interjected, clearly uninterested in a long, drawn-out debate on the subject, "Militia barracks aren't far from here...should be a lawman or two there, don'tcha think?"

Alfred was mildly impressed at how quickly the last Loyalist standing went for his purse. He wouldn't shut up about how he was paying 'only out of the goodness of his heart' because 'he was a concerned citizen', but still it was kind of neat. Then again, the local militia would've fought England's men during that one battle here a while back...stood to reason they'd probably take Alfred's side in the matter.

"As for you two," the bartender added, glaring pointedly at Alfred, "I've no need for folk who can't mind themselves in my establishment. Get out and stay out, both of you!"

So much for drinking. Alfred had mostly finished his beer anyway.

"I think it's worked out, but we're getting kicked out anyway,"[/color] Alfred told Russia.

Maybe the next stop on their little tour of Charles Town would have less people in it? Alfred really didn't fancy the idea of brawling with more of his citizens - whether they considered themselves as such or not.[/center]

-----
- ...I'm not sure I like this post but here y'go~

[Russia]

"Loyalists...well, they're what these guys are.”

The description had left Ivan to study the men with even more curiosity. He had been quick to decide that they were many things. Some of the first adjectives that came to mind were: loud, boisterous, troublesome, drunk and dirty. The last one was only apparent as he had gotten a closer look and realized just how much dirt and beer many of them had on their clothing. One man with a thick beard that would make any man in his own lands surely envious, even had bits of what appeared to be bread and tobacco in his facial hair. But he had to doubt that America was referencing their hygiene with the phrase “loyalist.”

"They're loyal. To, um, England."

Ivan had given the men a somewhat harsher smile. They were clearly enemies then. Why were they even allowed to roam America’s land unhindered if they were loyal to Arthur instead? It did not make sense to him. People who were openly not loyal to his Tsar surely did not get such treatment in his borders. In fact, they could get framed for things easier and killed if they were not careful to keep their resentment for the country in check. Which always suited Ivan just fine. Why should he be loyal and patient to his people if they were not loyal to him? He would have asked America about why the men were allowed to remain in his lands if they were openly loyalists, but his friend seemed to be busy looking for something. Maybe he wanted more liquor and he thought there might be a bottle or something on the floor?

Of course once America had found his coat, he stopped searching, so Russia assumed that must have been what he had been looking for.

Ivan had not been sure at first if the barkeeper had understood his reply. The man had possessed a sort of vacant stare though, so Ivan suspected that he had not been understood. The man must not have known Russian. Much speaking between America, “the loyalists” and the barkeep ensued, to which Ivan watched in silent amusement. He would need to take more time to study this bizarre, yet fascinating language. Perhaps America himself would teach him some day? He seemed much easier to approach than England concerning the matter.

Suddenly, the men were drawing out money from their purses, making Ivan even more curious. They must have been paying for the damage. He decided that even though they were loyalists, these men were not so bad. They just loved fighting so much that they didn’t care where they picked a fight, but then they were happy enough to pay for the damages, so all was well. They were certainly Russian at heart in that regard.

Even though all seemed to be going well and the broken chairs were clearly paid for, the barkeep appeared to be less of a comrade. His tone of voice as he spoke to America was far from friendly, and he wore all the signs of being very upset. “What is he…” Ivan did not get a chance to finish his question, as America suddenly spoke up.

"I think it's worked out, but we're getting kicked out anyway.”

“Why, when we did not start the fight?” The Russian stared at his new friend in confusion. It seemed odd to him to kick someone out just for defending themselves. Having been kicked out of bars before though, Ivan gave a soft sigh and grabbed onto his vodka. He wouldn’t leave that behind, no matter what the grouchy barkeep said. If the man dared try and take the heavenly liquor from him, there would surely be more fighting too. The barkeep appeared to not care though since the bottle itself had been paid for. So Ivan was free to follow America outside in peace while taking a long drink from it.

“That was fun though, my friend.” The now lightheaded Russian gave the other nation a smile and a heavy cuff on the shoulder in good spirits. “Besides fighting in bars, what do people in this town do for a good time?” Ivan tried to think about activities that he did to entertain himself at home when he wasn’t drinking. “Perhaps there are shops around here with strange and exotic stuff from your land for sale? I told my boss I would bring her back a souvenir from this fascinating place.” His wide violet eyes focused on the buildings in front of them again. He was starting to feel some of the effects of the alcohol, but being a heavy drinker it usually took a lot to make him too drunk to function properly. So he had some time to spend looking around some more if America wanted. Or they could just walk around and sightsee.

[America]

Date: August, 1778
Charles Town, South Carolina

Russia didn't seem too thrilled about getting tossed out of the bar when they hadn't started the fight. Alfred agreed with him, but on the other hand the bartender didn't seem to care. Lording over his bar like his personal kingdom...though Alfred supposed the man probably preferred not having to replace his furniture all the time.

"Guess he likes his chairs not-smashed-over-people's-heads, or something?"

[/color] Alfred offered in response.

It was kinda funny seeing Russia grab for his vodka bottle like he was afraid it was going to run away from him, though! Slinging his coat over one shoulder, Alfred led the way back outside and relished in the relative coolness of not being in full uniform. He still couldn't figure out how Russia was able to walk around in a scarf and coat like that without boiling up like a lobster.

Now they had to find something else to do...

“Perhaps there are shops around here with strange and exotic stuff from your land for sale? I told my boss I would bring her back a souvenir from this fascinating place.”[/color]

Alfred looked over at Russia and grinned.

"What, you want to get a present for your boss?"[/color] he responded, teasing Russia just a little bit, "Do you like her? Is she cute?"[/color]

Though that left the problem of what Alfred actually had around here that would be 'strange and exotic'. Far as he could tell, it was all perfectly normal stuff! ...Though maybe... Alfred studied Russia's head for a minute, then grinned even brighter than before.

"I bet we could find you something really neat! I think I saw a place selling stuff out of the backwoods...now where was it..."[/color]

In Alfred's mind, there was a furry hat with a striped 'coon tail sticking out the back with Russia's name on it. Dr. Franklin's letters mentioned the one he'd brought with him had gotten plenty of interest from France's nobles, so Russia would probably be interested in one too![/center]

----
- Sorry for the delay~
- Now they can run around outside for a while as Al tries to find some place selling coonskin caps~ X3

[Russia]

Outside was far brighter than the little tavern had been, and the large Russian had shut his eyes for a moment at the sudden assault of sunlight. It was not the blinding brightness of sunlight reflecting off fresh snow, but it was still uncomfortable, and enough to make Ivan squint a little as he surveyed the area some more in thought. He was noticing the heat more and more too. Even though he had a harder time getting overheated, even he was not immune and was starting to sweat under all the warm clothing.

"What, you want to get a present for your boss?"

Violet eyes turned to focus on the younger man. Ivan smiled and gave a merry nod almost instantly, wondering if it really was so odd to get a boss a present? Thinking on it though, not many before had ever requested such things of him, so he had never went out of his way to bring them back things. America looked amused by the idea, so he must not have brought his leaders back things before either. But he was such a young nation technically, so he really had not had many bosses before, Ivan figured.

"Do you like her? Is she cute?"

At this, the larger nation laughed. He thought of Catherine as many things, but ‘cute’ was not one of them these days. The woman appeared to almost be in her fifties now, after all. Sure, she had been sort of cute in her younger years he had to admit. With her nice complexion, dark hair and pale eyes, she had caught the attention of many guys, Ivan included back then. But he had retained his youth, and she had not. It was always that way with countries. They could either go through periods of rapid aging and growth, or they could go for many years without looking any older. As it was, Ivan had never seen a nation that looked as old as any human over the age of thirty or so. They must have stopped physically aging after a point, otherwise he was sure Yao would look older than the oldest person.

“I like her as a leader. I can respect her.” He gave another soft chuckle. “But she is not what I would call cute these days. She’s an older women, still very powerful of presence, but no longer young and beautiful." A rare somber look shadowed his youthful features for a moment as he was lost in contemplation. “That is how things go though for us. We rarely look our age. I would surely be a dusty skeleton if we did, and nations like China, England and France would be dust.” His smile returned full force as he allowed his thoughts to go back to more pleasant things than aging human leaders.

"I bet we could find you something really neat! I think I saw a place selling stuff out of the backwoods...now where was it..."

Russia’s brows raised slightly in surprise. The backwoods?” he repeated softly, wondering what sorts of things came from America’s backwoods. He had heard France praise America’s lands before and the sorts of things that he had found there, so now the stocky blonde was very curious.

Since this was America’s town and he knew it far better, Russia allowed the young nation to take the lead. Following closely, he studied his surroundings with the wild-eyed excitement of a child. Who knew what strange things they would find for him to bring back to St. Petersburg? There were people selling things all over the place really. It was easy to tell that this was a major trade city. A lot of the stuff was things that he could find in his own borders, but every now and then his eyes were greeted with the sight of strange and curious things. And of course, most people were dressed strangely.

“What do women like for presents?” he questioned his new friend as they passed a shop with some nice looking coats in the window.

[America]

Date: August, 1778
Charles Town, South Carolina

Alfred had really only meant to tease a little bit, but Russia was taking the questions so seriously he actually felt kinda bad about it now.

“I like her as a leader. I can respect her. But she is not what I would call cute these days. She’s an older women, still very powerful of presence, but no longer young and beautiful."

[/color]

Before Alfred could say anything to this, Russia got positively morbid.

"That is how things go though for us. We rarely look our age. I would surely be a dusty skeleton if we did, and nations like China, England and France would be dust.”[/color]

A small scowl appeared on Alfred's features as he thought about this. Well, naturally he knew that humans didn't last very long at all, even compared to a new nation like himself. He'd been a colony for what, over a hundred years or so? And Alfred had seen kids who'd once played with him unsuspectingly grow into adulthood, have kids of their own, and then get gray and old and die...and to be honest, he really liked his bosses now. General Washington and Doctor Franklin especially...it was disconcerting to think of them getting old and dying.

The mention of what Russia thought he and England would look like if they aged like humans was weird enough to bring Alfred right out of his funk.

"Whoa...I didn't think you were THAT old, Russia! You seem way too awesome to be a skeleton,"[/color] Alfred said, his tone thoughtful, "I dunno I'd want to meet you if you were a scary skeleton, though, so I guess it's good you're not!"[/color]

And since that seemed to be the end of that, Alfred resumed his search for that one store he was looking forward. Russia followed behind, taking in all the sights. Really, though, Alfred had a hard time believing anyone could find Charles Town an exotic place. People here spoke English and everything! That wasn't strange at all.

“What do women like for presents?”[/color]

Russia's question alerted Alfred just in time before Alfred accidentally left the other nation behind. The taller man was looking in a window of a tailor's shop, which had some of the man's work on display to entice more customers.

"Hmm...I dunno,"[/color] Alfred said as he peered through the window next to Russia for a moment, "It probably depends on whether you fancy her or not."[/color]

Though girls probably liked pretty things, right? Alfred mulled it over before coming up with an idea.

"But I bet flowers would work! Girls probably like things like that!"[/color]

Turning his head, Alfred triumphantly pointed at a small plot of open ground where some wildflowers were blooming. There were even a few cheerful sunflowers reigning over the patch.

"See, like those! But I guess it wouldn't work if they withered on the way back...hey, how far away is your house?"[/color][/center]

----
- And thus Russia discovered the magic of SUNFLOWERS~<3

[Russia]

It had been flattering to hear that America thought him too awesome to be a skeleton. The other nation must not have known how old he really was. He may not have looked too much older than Alfred physically, but he had been around for at least a few hundred more years. Depending on how long Alfred had spent as a young proto-nation. Personally, Russia had spent a long time as a proto-nation, so it was easy to imagine that maybe America had as well. Not that Ivan personally remembered too much of his pre-nation days. It had been violent time for sure, and perhaps it was for the best to be mostly forgotten and pushed to the far back reaches of his memories.

"Hmm...I dunno.”

The words drew the Russian’s gaze from the stylish coats for a moment or two, his curious eyes wandering back to look to the other nation besides him. Were coats an appropriate gift for a boss? Ivan personally liked coats a lot… so maybe his leader would as well?

"It probably depends on whether you fancy her or not."

“Do coats signify fancying someone?” He looked back to the coats in the window. “I don’t want her to get the wrong ideas…” He didn’t want to get the older woman thinking about things like that concerning him. He liked her as a leader, but Ivan was not so attracted to older looking women. The younger ones were so much more softer and delicate looking. Much more to his liking. But his boss already had a reputation amongst those who knew her well, of having a love for younger looking men. Sometimes, Ivan could swear that she was looking at her eternally youthful nation with the same hungry intensity of a starving man looking at a nice sautéed lamb chop. No, best not to push her mind into those dark waters with gifts that said “hey I like you as more than a boss.”

"But I bet flowers would work! Girls probably like things like that!"

“Flowers?” The Russian blinked in surprise. He had not thought of bringing her back flowers. That was a nice simple and unassuming gift, right? The larger nation’s gaze followed America’s finger over to the patch of wildflowers. They were very beautiful, and so strange looking! His eyes were instantly drawn to the large yellow ones. They were huge! The biggest flowers he had seen! And so bright!

"See, like those! But I guess it wouldn't work if they withered on the way back...hey, how far away is your house?"

Temporarily, Ivan did not even register his friend‘s comments, so caught up was he in staring at the magnificent yellow flowers. Moving forward, he approached the patch as though memorized. “My house might be too far away for them to last…” He reached out with a hand and gently stroked the nearest large yellow flower, his fingers running over the large silky pedals to make sure they were in fact real. “These are magnificent. So bright, like the sun!” Ivan looked perhaps a bit too ecstatic over something as simple as flowers than might have been considered normal. But he just couldn’t draw his eyes away from the things. Ignoring all the other pretty wildflowers, the larger nation smiled like a fool and turned his sights back to America for a moment. “I must find a way to take some of these back with me to my house though.” He explained, patting the nearest flower on the head as though it were a family pet. “What are they called? How did they get so large? They must certainly be the Russians of the plant kingdom.”

But there was little fresh water at sea, which was a big problem for keeping flowers. They always brought some on the boat of course, and they could catch it when it rained. So maybe that would be enough? There had to be a way to keep these magnificent sunny flowers alive long enough for him to take them home and plant them somewhere in his yard. Determined, he looked to America expectantly, as though waiting for the other man to confirm that he could have them.
_____________________________
((Strong emotions are always fun to write. Hope you have enough to work with here.))