The Changing of the Guard [America]

[albion]

Date; 22nd February 1917
Event; Zimmerman Telegram

He hoped this would be enough, he honestly did. His people had been pushing the Americans to join, trying to prod them into pulling their asses into the great war. They needed the help, the British Empire and its allies needed the Americans. England would never admit such a thing of course, doing so would perhaps be something his arrogance would never allow. He knew well enough what the boys people thought of his own though, and he knew there were man against America taking an part in a European war. One in which the grand ol' land of Britain was tied into so heavily. They'd needed something to convince the Americans that they weren't so safe as they thought, and also that the Brits were on their side with things. George suspected this was what they needed to do so, and perhaps he was right. He himself was not so sure though, there were too many variables that could swing this against him.

In the end though he was here, walking through the streets of the city he'd once tried to render to ashes. It had been a hell of a long time since he'd set foot on American soil, he'd had no want nor need to do so. Even now there was a keen part of him that wanted to turn away, keeping his pride intact. In a round about way this was all just a way of begging the youth to join, using propaganda to rile him up into lashing out. There problem was though... England didn't beg. Not once in his history had he ever done so in regards to something like this, and nor was he going to make a habit of doing so. Still, his people needed this. The Krauts were causing too many problems, and though it pained him to say it he couldn't crush down the problem as he had with so many others. Granted he had a feeling it would only be a matter of time before such a thing would happen, but for now things were taxing.

With a sigh he tightened to grip on his brief case, back ramrod straight as he proceeded down the streets of DC. His people needed this, and that was most certainly his only reason for being here. He didn't want to see Alfred, he did not need the help of some stuck of brat who seemed to take enjoyment on sniping at him at every opportunity he seemed to get. He was too immature for a war like this, and Arthur knew that all too well.

Orders were orders though, thus he had little choice but to do this.

It was funny though, a part of him was perhaps glad to have intercepted the message. There was a nagging part of him that wondered what would have happened had they not. He supposed it was possible America would be under attack in the coming months, totally unprepared for such as they'd known nothing about it. That itself would have probably pushed the yanks into the war any way, from his own experience (the sorts that were so often best forgotten in a bottle or two of whiskey) he knew that such an event wouldn't be taken lightly... Though... Perhaps the proposition would be declined though. He didn't know, nor was he overly concerned with it. He really saw little little point in wondering on what exactly could have been, were he to do so every single time something came up he'd never get anywhere. It was pointless.

What amused him though, what really tickled his fancy was that this so called 'Unrestricted Submarine Warfare' would make make him back down. Were they really that foolish? So naïve as to think he and his people would just give up. That wasn't something he really knew how to do, and he'd be dammed if his people were about to learn how to do such a thing. Granted he was war-torn, however it wasn't something that showed unless one were to perhaps scrutinized his posture. His back was rigid, and his posture perfect. Too perfect really, and perhaps that along with the pursed lips spoke enough tales of such. He was sick of wars, sick of trying to quell the damn Germans. It was true that the Somme had been somewhat of a disappointment in his eyes, however it hadn't been an outright loss despite the large loss of numbers for such a small land gain.

With a shake of his head he rounded a corner, nearly walking into some woman as he did so. “Sorry, do forgive m---” He never got a chance to finish as the woman simply continued on. With a scowl he furrowed his brows, evidently unimpressed by the uncouth nature the American population seemed to have developed. It really did speak volumes for the nation.

Shaking his head, blond bangs falling into a state of further disarray, he continue on toward the large white building he hoped America would currently be at. Alas, having not made any form of appointment he couldn't be sure. Yes, it was rude to simply show up and demand an audience, however this was somewhat urgent if he did says so. Dear god, by the end of this the boy should be thanking him (even though the whole thing was more self serving). Still, an appointment would have been easier... For one it would have meant he'd have had someone to damn pick him up. Really, he could only be thankful that the weather had held strong for him.

As he came to the gates some strange fellow hurried out to meet him. Che, well he supposed they were at least attentive in some ways... Mind, they had every right to be. No doubt they'd be having kittens if they knew what he'd helped do to this place near on a hundred years ago.

“Can I help you, sir?” The strange fellow queried, voice at least mildly professional.

“Yes, perhaps you can. My name's Arthur Kirkland, I've an urgent message to pass on to one Alfred Jones.” With a sigh he quickly pulled out a sealed envelope, handing it over to the gent. “There you'll find citation from the British Prime minister, David Lloyd George, outlining the situation. I'm sure you'll find that everything is in order.” And he of course would. Britain was not one to mince words with falsities in such matters. Indeed, as the bloke arched an eyebrow upon reading he offered a mild sigh. “May we please not tarry? I'm a busy man, and this is indeed rather urgent.” Thankfully the other seemed to get the point.

“Yes, indeed. Right this way Mister Kirkland.” As the American turned toward the gates once more England followed, eyes not straying from his intended target. He could say one thing though, he was damn thankful they'd not told him the other wasn't presently in residence here. That would have been a damn bother if he was honest. “Mister Brown will accompany you down, if that's okay with you, sir?” England Simply nodded in response. “Very good, we'll have the Ford brought right around.”

Indeed, several minutes later England found himself seated in the back of said Ford, pointedly ignoring 'Brown' as he tried to strike up some idle chatter. He was only thankful the fellow gave up shortly before they reached the doors of the great building.

Though loathed to admit it the building did look far better now, much more grand than its predecessor. Of course he'd never state such a thing aloud lest the people here develop an ego larger than he already suspected they had.

Following as the somewhat abashed Brown lead him up two flights of stairs he paid little attention to the decor, though if he had then there was little doubt he'd have found it grand. That or obnoxiously unneeded. With he you could never really just assume something, he had a nasty habit of doing or thinking the least expected of things. You expected right, and he'd go left. Usually it was more of a stubborn desire to break away from what was expected, his own personal rebellion if you will. Then again, perhaps it was simply that he just felt like going left.

“Sir, we're here.”

“Ah, thank you.” With that he'd wait for the other to leave, no doubt on his way to inform any needed to know that there was now a damn grumpy Brit wandering about the place. That wasn't his concern to be honest, he'd deal with anyone else he needed later. Right now there was simply one thing he needed to deal with, and thus only one person he needed to inform. There was little doubt that soon Mister Wilson would be getting a call from one of his officials in Britain, and of course then he'd personally deal with any queries that arose on the matter.

Hesitating no longer he fisted his free hand and knocked it slowly upon the great door. He swore in the name of the queen, if the prat inside thought he was room service he was getting a damn brief case across the back of the head.

----

- This thread is set a day before Wilson found out about the Telegram.
- “He knew well enough what the boys people thought of his own,” There were a fair few Americans who were seriously against the English... Mainly German/Irish Americans. 8(
- “the city he'd once tried to render to ashes” All I have to say is... 1812
- George= David Lloyd George. He was the new Prime minister at this time.
- The Mexicans actually declined the proposition XD Americastillgotpissedthough8<
- “'Unrestricted Submarine Warfare' would make make him back down” The Germans thought we'd give up if they did this. Theyyyy were wrong. I notice the Germans seem to think a lot of things will make us back down... The Blitz, this... yeah XD They have no faith >>;
- “It was true that the Somme had been somewhat of a disappointment” The Somme was actually pretty indecisive, there was no clear winner. However, it did seem more favourable to the allies.
- “large loss of numbers for such a small land gain.” About two men were killed for every 1cm of land taken by the allies... They only got 2 miles.
- The Vehicle in use is a Ford Model T Touring Car /o/
- 'Brown' is the 5th most popular America surname, coming right after Jones. Did I do this deliberately? Yes. Yes I did.
- “ Sir, we're here” Here= The Rose Room. Since I'm an ass who had no idea where Al would stay when in Washington I went with the white house... And the Rose Room kinda made sense XD

- SORRY THIS SUCKS... idfk, this was just randomly awkward to write Bl

- 'Bloke' Just a name for a man.... No Ani, it's not an insult 8C

- Title from 'The Changing of the Guard' by Stone Cold Coyotes. Though, it can also be taken as a reference to the changing of the guards from Buckingham palace if you want XD

EDIT;;
I AM WELL AWARE IT IS NOT THIS EASY TO GET INTO THE WHITE HOUSE. I know he wouldn't have gotten in. However, I'm an ass and wanted to move the thread along a bit. Shoot me for the details if you want o/

[usa]

     Busy busy busy. Good thing he came for an extended visit. Personnel were wandering about in quick paces, trying to keep up with what was going in and out through the system that was the government. He heaved a deep sigh and rubbed the side of his face. Eugh, you try to ignore Europe and then it tries to blow up on you anyway. He waved off some and spoke with others in the grand halls briefly as he moved along the path to his room. The sooner he was able to relax even the slightest, the better. He had completed most of his work already and after a day of non-stop work, he could use the breather. People continued to pass and exchanged papers with him and quite frankly he was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Today just seemed to be one of those busy days though. Everyone who worked had them.

     Reaching the residence floor he turned to approach the room in which he was staying in. While he missed the old building, this newer one seemed to meet the needs more appropriately. Unlocking the door, he slowly opened it and saw that room service had come in, fixing the bed and leaving the room spotless. He sighed a bit with a small laugh. The employees here had a knack for trying to make everything seamless. He approached a small desk and dropped his wad of papers on it and put his suit jacket upon the back of the chair. With a long stretched he sighed considerably. As soon as he was done with that, the phone rang.

"Oh lord..." He muttered as he picked up then phone. "Hello, you've reached the White House-- oh. Well, that's not something I'm really in charge of..."

     He pulled out the chair and sat down as he discussed something over the phone. Mix ups were often and were a common mistake. Thankfully none of them were the bad kind that lead to the worst of the worst. With the busy day that it was, it was common for such mistakes to be made, but most of them were forgiving. He ran his fingers through his blond hair as the man continued on. Ugh, legal stuff. He wished he didn't care, but he had to. It was kind of just part of being a nation in some ways. He pulled out a pen and a notepad and began to write some numbers down. There was then a knock on the door.

"So, you want me to bring this to the head of-- Come in, it's unlocked -- that department?"

     As he continued to speak, the doorknob clicked and the door swung open, a figure walking in as America looked at the notepad, not noticing the figure. As he looked up and blue met green he paused everything he was doing. Well then, what a "pleasant" surprise. Perhaps the fact he saw the Briton after so many years would be a unique close to the end of a very long workday. Then again, a nation's work was never done.

"I... will have to call you back later...." He said absentmindedly and hung up.

     Just what in god's name was he doing here? He pushed the phone aside and stood. To be honest he was both surprised, but he didn't want to be. Eventually someone on that side of the Atlantic was bound to come to him for something. As much as he said no to joining, though, they just kept at it. Not only was it annoying, but he hated to repeat himself. He was neutral and had been with a lot of European issues for a long time. There were small secret alliances here and there, but other than that, he had tried his best. Well, he personally as his leaders kind of did whatever they wanted anyway. This though perhaps meant something was very wrong. For England to have removed himself from Europe was probably saying a lot, but Alfred couldn't really tell.

"England..." He said once more in the same fashion, except this time he shook his head and actually put at least some thought into what he was saying. "Shouldn't you be... you know... warring?" What with that whole war over there and stuff. It then dawned on him. "If you're here to drag me into the war, you can turn around. I've said enough times that I don't want any part of it."

     There was almost an irritated tone to it but he tried to make it more seem like a dull statement. He was neutral and that was that. Since the early 19th century this had been so, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to just stand by and watch it just happen. He found himself agreeing to let his nation send supplies over, but he refused to send any fighting force there. It was hard to change his mind in general, but he felt himself trying to sit still with a restless leg through all this. It was not that he was confused as to where he stood, but rather he wanted to be able to do something more but without getting himself thrown into the battlefield. With a sigh he ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the ground, thinking of what else to say.

     This was visit was not expected, so everything he had to say had to be pulled out of the air. Quite frankly it was frustrating and an inconvenience and to see the Brit's face again though unsettling. It didn't change, he wasn't any different to when he previously saw him. America had changed physically a year, but even his own change wasn't a great change. A part of him wanted to be glad Arthur was holding out through the long, tedious war, but another part just wanted to be angry as he felt he was in the end going to be used. He looked back at him.

"Germany's pissing me off, though." He stated simply, trying to seem like he was above it all. He sighed a bit. "But away from that, what did you come for?"

Knowing England, the news was probably on the negative side. Starting a conversation with the older nation was also awkward. They hadn't been on the best speaking terms.

---

• We really, really didn't want much to do with WWI 8c
  
• "He was neutral and had been with a lot of European issues for a long time."- The Monroe Doctrine, started back in 1821, basically said that as long as Europeans stayed out of American business, Americans would stay out of theirs. It's a basis of foreign policy.
  
• "There were small secret alliances here and there,"- We said we were allied to nobody in Europe, we really were _{cough Britain cough}.
  
• "Germany's starting to piss me off, though."- When a German U-boat sank the British liner Lusitania in 1915, with 128 Americans aboard, President Wilson stated that "America is too proud to fight" and demanded that Germans stop attacks on passenger ships. They stopped but, it pissed us off ; They also sabotaged a few munition factories in New Jersey _{they need to gtfo my state}

[albion]

Hearing the usher to enter he scowled, grasping the handle and pushing it open. Really this was all rather rude, and not at all the proper way to treat a guest. Especially not a political one, which indeed Arthur was on this occasion. Indeed, things were made worse when the other proceeded to bloody well ignore him in favour of the telephone. Well then, that was rather wonderful.

When the other finally did notice him he could have smirked at the shock in those damn blue eyes of his, instead he simply favoured looking away to fix his attention on anything but Alfred. It was perhaps a fair reaction, and yet perhaps not. America had undoubtedly been an aid with supplies, his people would have been far worse off had it not been for such things. It wasn't enough though, not by a longshot. They actually needed direct support, and he hated to admit that. Call it a pride thing if you wished... Hell, you'd probably be about right. England simply didn't want to admit that he couldn't just go in, red coat ablaze, and kick it all into shape as he'd done so many times prior. It was sad really, and he truly hated the felling of it all slipping through his fingers. Ever since the rain he'd been drowning.

The boy really wasn't happy to see him though, was he? Judging by the tone of voice he'd most certainly say not. Hmph, well he didn't really blame him. After everything in the past it was perhaps no small wonder. Besides which, Europe had been dogging the lad to try and drag him into things. The British had been no exception to this, and perhaps they'd been stronger in their efforts than some. It was pitiful really. Utterly shameful.

"England... Shouldn't you be... you know... warring? If you're here to drag me into the war, you can turn around. I've said enough times that I don't want any part of it."

Warring? Well, it was good to see the other was as good with words as ever. He'd hate to think such a thing would have changed, it'd have been downright terrible to even consider such a thing. “Yes, I probably should be.” Because for a nation there was no rest. They had to keep pushing onwards and upwards regardless of pain, and most certainly regardless of death. There was a reason war was a last resort, and this was it. War was terrible. War was vile. War was everything that you never wanted to see embodied within one thing that you would be forced to to face day after day. However, it was also here and now. Yes, he really should be out 'warring', though in a way he was. There were many ways to fight a battle, and not all of them involved being on the battlefront. What he was doing was indeed another form of war, though it was one that was far more refined than the others.

The finality of his voice to the latter comment almost made him blanch though. Almost. With a scowl his posture tensed, already straight back seeming to hold him more so despite the seemingly impossible nature of it. Yes he ached, and yes it tugged at the various healing wounds across his frame... But he'd be fucked if he was talked to like that by anyone. Let alone America.

“If you wish me to leave then I shall, I've little notion to be dealing with such an obnoxious prat now of all times.” Because right now his life sucked. That was pretty much the only word that did the whole thing justice when all was said and done. Right now he didn't need some pain in the ass brat telling him what to do, and it was simply America's bad luck that he had a natural gift of worsening Arthur's already sour moods. “Bear in mind though, the news I bring you is more important to you than it is to I. I'd not bring myself here just to entertain the idea of trying to get you to join this war, such a thing would be far below me.” Yet here he was doing exactly that. Granted his methods were different, and yes they were less direct, but in the end he had in fact pulled himself halfway around the world just to try and get this one nation on his damn side. “Still, do give the word if you want me gone.” Because he probably would leave. He was in no mood for the boy's rude words, none at all.

"Germany's pissing me off, though. But away from that, what did you come for?"

Pissing him off? England barely contained the mirthless chuckle at such a statement. Thus far Alfred had lost little in this whole thing, and he dare to call himself pissed off? It was ironic really, and not in a way he much cared for. Still, there was no doubt that his boss would be chuffed to bits to hear such a thing. It would after all heighten the chances of all this working, he couldn't say he much cared for the method. Oh it was true, England himself was a manipulative bastard. He did as he pleased to reach his own goals, often caring little for those that got caught up in the crossfire. This though... Ah, it was enough to brush at his spluttering excuse of morality.

Finally looking back he narrowed his eyes. “Yes, well that's the Krauts for you. Tossers, the lot of them.” And by god did he hate them. They were in the way and wouldn't move. It was a pain to say the least.

With the request though he pulled out the translated sheet, offering it to the boy. “Here,” he huffed, making the thing seem like the biggest damn pain in the world. “The original is with Mr Bell, this is obviously a copy. I've little doubt your President will be receiving a call upon the matter at some point. Frankly I'm amused he's not already.” America's people could be so slow on matters. Still, there was nothing he could really do about the whole thing. Just so long as this worked he'd not have to deal with the bother of America not believing him then he would of course be fine. “We obtained the cipher text from the Mexican Telegraph office a short time ago, along with a copy of the deciphered text.” Lies. It was all lies in a way. Yes, the first part was true in a sense, they had indeed gotten the cipher text from Mexico... But only after obtaining it themselves. He doubted Alfred would know though, fuck, he knew damn well the lad wouldn't see through Arthur's eloquently constructed misstruths. He doubted any would.

Finishing himself on the matter he looked away, scanning the room briefly before furrowing his brows. “However, this is hardly an appropriate conversation to be having in one's bedroom.” In truth he was simply tired., and thus standing wasn't exactly something he wanted to be doing. He was damn sure there would be a conference room around somewhere, and then he could at long last just sit down. Still, having just come from a war to cross the damn Atlantic who the hell could blame him for being shattered?

----

- “We obtained the cipher text from the Mexican Telegraph office” This is partially true, we did. However, we ONLY got it after we'd intercepted the original message and deciphered it. We pretty much did this whole thing just so we didn't look suspicious... We're awesome
- “along with a copy of the deciphered text.” THIS is a flat out lie. We had the code to do it ourselves, getting it from monitoring neutral diplomatic traffic. It was also so we could publicly announce the thing without the Germans knowing we were watching them XD
- “ Mr Bell” Edward Bell was the American secretary of the US Embassy on Britain at the time. He was the one we gave it to /o/

[usa]

“Yes, I probably should be. If you wish me to leave then I shall, I've little notion to be dealing with such an obnoxious prat now of all times. Bear in mind though, the news I bring you is more important to you than it is to I. I'd not bring myself here just to entertain the idea of trying to get you to join this war, such a thing would be far below me. Still, do give the word if you want me gone.”

     The young nation blinked. OK so he wasn't here for himself. Wait, that sounded rather odd. Usually others came to him to demand or work something out with the end result having the other party gaining something from it. This probably wasn't very different, but he didn't know what this was all about so he simply went along with it. With a huff he folded his arms.

"Jeez calm down." He said a bit uneasily. "Never said I 'wanted' you to leave." No, instead he kind of just indirectly said it.

     To be honest, he didn't want to hear or see anyone from Europe. They were getting on his nerves. The Allies bugging him to join in the war, Germans were attacking his innocent and sabotaging within his borders. He was getting anxious, and all the more wanting to do something about it, but he heard what his President said. They were not going to fight back. They were not. They were not. He often found himself repeating the statement in his head as if it was the only thing from trying to persuade his leaders to send his country to war. Europeans seemed to be like an untrained dog. One would go to pet it and it would bite at you for trying, but over time the dog would get used to it and allow one to be closer, though one wrong move would simply encourage it to start biting again. It was hard.

“Yes, well that's the Krauts for you. Tossers, the lot of them.”

     He simply nodded and looked down a bit. America's losses were not as great as the losses that the nations across the pond had. They were nothing in comparison. Did he have a right to be angered by what the Germans did? Well, yes, but in another sense he couldn't complain since there were those who lost much more. He did anyway, not realizing totally what those losses truly were. Perhaps what England was about to give him was going to be a wake up call.

“Here.”

     He blinked and simply took the sheet, looking it over very quickly before his attention was caught by Arthur once more.

“The original is with Mr Bell, this is obviously a copy. I've little doubt your President will be receiving a call upon the matter at some point. Frankly I'm amused he's not already.”

     Looking down at the sheet once more, he skimmed over it quickly and his brows furrowed quite deeply. Wait, what?

“We obtained the cipher text from the Mexican Telegraph office a short time ago, along with a copy of the deciphered text.”

"How long ago?" he asked, a bit impatiently. He stopped himself from asking more.

“However, this is hardly an appropriate conversation to be having in one's bedroom.”

"Right then." He said simply, making himself seem a bit more professional then normal.

     Walking past the Brit he gestured his hand so that Britain would follow him if he wanted to. He walked through the busy hallways, trying to avoid the personnel and officials that walked past. He approached a set of doors and knocked on it a few times. Hearing no response, he took the handle and pulled the door open. The room was a bit plain as it only had a few paintings up on the walls of various people and places, accompanied by a fireplace and a few furnishings here and there besides the conference table. He held the door open presuming Arthur was following him.

     Taking a seat on one of the chairs, he places the sheet he was given on the table and made a point to read it all so that he could believe what he was reading.

"So," his tone was a bit exasperated. "Germany's telling ol' Mexico to declare war on me if I do anything..." Asswipes. "Then... Mexico would get all that land back. That's balled up!" He exclaimed. "Dammit."

     Now he was officially angry, along with frustrated, and now agitated. Who the hell did the Germans think they were all of a sudden?! He rubbed his face slightly and adjusted his glasses as his blue gaze went to England.

"Is this all it said?" He asked a bit seriously, though skeptical that it was. It seemed very... short.

     He leaned back against the chair and rubbed his chin slightly. Oh what a grand day this was turning out to be.

"While Mexico's army's a joke..." He started off with his usual arrogance slipping in. "This is... unacceptable." He just couldn't find the words.

     Europeans, he swore, were like the kind of bugs that come into your house, leave, then come back. They always came back.

---

• "balled up"- an early 20th century slang for "messed up". While I think slang through the years is cool and all, the 1900s... had some really really odd... word usage...
  
• "Then... Mexico would get all that land back"- the Telegram stated that New Mexico, Arizona, and Texas went back to Mexico. _{good luck with that one}
  
• The room that's being described is what's known today as the Roosevelt room.

[albion]

"Jeez calm down. Never said I 'wanted' you to leave."

He snorted slightly. “No, however the implication was most certainly there.” And it as. Arthur was perfectly capable of grasping what people meant when they spoke to him, regardless of the illusions that would be cast before them in some futile effort to hide the real meaning. Frankly Alfred didn't usually display enough fines to actually master such a thing at any rate, thus England had little bother in working out what was meant by every damn word spoken.

"How long ago?"

He could have smiled at how easy it was. Already Alfred's mood was finding itself to be more serious than one would otherwise expect from the lad, which he supposed was what he needed. In some ways it was like poking at a caged lion. It would lay for a while, letting you get away with it until eventually it would simply snap. This was his goal. He needed to subtly poke this lion in the lace of another, avoiding detection as he did so. He needed the strike to be against Germany and his allies, and thus he couldn't just be direct about it. This whole thing was a mind game, one being played against an entire nation of people. To pull this off he'd have to pull the wool over so many people whilst simultaneously holding up a seamless charade. It was cruel really, the lad didn't want to join... yet Britain had to do what was best for his people, and this was what was best.

“Not long ago,” he stated simply. “I made my way here as soon as we got it.” A lie really, but who was to know better? Obviously America would not, and thus he had no choice but to take his word on it. That or ignore him, which could so easily end with America losing far more than just face.

"Right then."

With a slight nod he followed after the younger, somewhat surprised when the other actually endeavoured to show some degree of manners. Hmph, small wonders never do cease it seems.

"So, Germany's telling ol' Mexico to declare war on me if I do anything... Then... Mexico would get all that land back. That's balled up! Dammit."

Nodding slowly he seated himself opposite the other, allowing himself to fall into at least to rough shape of the chair. He couldn't say it was bliss, because frankly it really wasn't. The rigid nature of the structure was too solid and unforgiving against has him, holding his back in a posture that didn't at all suit his need. This was a business room though, so of course such a thing would not focus itself upon comfort. He had little doubt the vile thing had been constructed to force the poor soul upon it to focus on the speaker, such things were not made for you to simply sit back in and relax. With a vague huff he folded his arms across his chest, one leg folding neatly over the other as he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the other across from him.

“Indeed, so it would seem.” The boy had been naïve to think Germany would leave him out of this matter. As much as Arthur was loathed to admit it Alfred was a threat, and perhaps a damn big one should he try. It was true, Arthur had fought with the boy twice, and even as the most powerful force out there he'd not won. Oh it was true, both times his people had chosen to pull back... But the fact the remained. This boy, the one they'd considered worthless, had proved to become the key to them. He'd be right in the end, and he perhaps saw that as somewhat ironic.

"Is this all it said?

He gave a short nod. “Everything you see there is everything we have. You have my word on that.” Whether America chose to believe him or not was up to him, but this time at least it was no lie. That telegram was indeed all they knew on the matter, and here he was handing it over so freely. Oh, well wasn't he kind?

"While Mexico's army's a joke... This is... unacceptable."

Good. At least it was totally clear the boy was pissed, that much was terribly clear to him right now. “Yes, well you are a threat to them.” He really was. “They're scared of you, whether you see that or not.” With a mild shrug he looked at the paper for a moment. “They're not willing to take any risks when it comes to winning this, and you are indeed a risk to them now.” He really would love to see the look on the kraut's face if he were to find Alfred in this war. It would be his own fault no less, because he had after all been a part of the telegram which would hopefully pull America into this.

“I'm hear to answer any questions on the matter that you may have. It was easier to deal with them in person where such a thing cannot be monitored by unwelcome ears.” He'd be no means volunteered for such a thing, but apparently somewhere along the line it had been considered wise to pull him out of war and pack him off to America.

Sometimes he really had to question the so called logic people used.

----

Uhm.... I'm too lazy to give you notes right now....
To be honest there wasn't much to say anyway XD

[usa]

“Not long ago, I made my way here as soon as we got it. Indeed, so it would seem. Everything you see there is everything we have. You have my word on that.”

     With a small nod he understood and skimmed over the paper once more. He wasn't even in the war and already he was sick of it. He was sick of repeating himself and sick of dealing with those who want to bring him in so bad. His repetitive statements just fell on deaf ears and he simply was tired of talking to no one. All this business that was going on behind his back too also had to stop. As well, he was annoyed by the fact he wasn't allowed to get involved. Not that he wanted to go to war-oh no of course not- but this has gone on for far too long. He wasn't about to let the Central Powers get away with their crimes. Nope, not while America's concerned.

“Yes, well you are a threat to them. They're scared of you, whether you see that or not. They're not willing to take any risks when it comes to winning this, and you are indeed a risk to them now.”

"They're just a bunch of cowards." he stated disdainfully. "They're takin' a pretty big risk right now, those palookas."

     He rolled his eyes in an irrtated manner as he looked up at the older man, then back to the paper and rubbed the back of his head. So much for not wanting too much to do with whatever was in Europe. It seemed like he was going to have to step it sooner than he would have ever expected. He looked back at the Briton and raised a brow slightly.

“I'm hear to answer any questions on the matter that you may have. It was easier to deal with them in person where such a thing cannot be monitored by unwelcome ears.”

"Do you know what Mexico's response to the whole thing is?" He asked easily.

     The whole prospect of getting into this big war was not something to be taken lightly. First the President had to be notified, then Congress would have to allow it to take place, then after that the war efforts needed the support from the general populace of the country. It would perhaps be a bit difficult, but they had to at least try if America really wanted to go through with this. The idea of it was not something he liked, but he didn't want to hold himself back anymore. He wanted to prove that he was not going to put up with these antics and that the last straw was when they first started. This news of Germany trying to settle something with Mexico didn't help his sentiments towards the two, at all. In fact, he felt he had more of a right to hate them more. Things were just going to go downhill from there.

      Unfortunately, he didn't feel that much better with Britain around. Alfred would rather not see the green-eyed man, especially while the war was going on. Perhaps he was just here to try and sway him into falling for this. Maybe this was some sort of trick. No one from Europe could really be trusted, could they. But this was Arthur. He wouldn't lie to him like that so sadistically, would he? Of course not, how could he have doubted the man like that. Then again... He rubbed his face slightly and looked down at the paper, then at one of paintings on the wall. It was a man on horseback, riding the beast so gallantly. Perhaps the European forces thought of the United States as weak for constantly refusing to engage in combat. He furrowed his brows a bit. America had more valor than many, and this whole telegram thing only proved such a statement. Looking back at the Briton he sighed exasperatedly.

"I don't think sending in supplies is going to be enough..." He said in slightly thought as his words vaguely hinted at his personal decision and his eyes locked on to the Brit's firmly. "I hate to be a killjoy, but I'm not going to say anything yet." His tone was strong. "But one thing's for sure: regardless of whether they said yes or no, no one's getting away with it."

     He would say outright that he had made his personal decision to engage in the war, but he would not say unless his superiors approved of such a move. He had a feeling though that the decision would easily fall into the favor of war. Americans were the kind of people that tended to sit back until things got worse. Once something were to become out of hand, they would swoop in and try and calm the situation. This would be one of those kinds of moments. He stiffened a bit, something unusual of him as he thought about the possible proposition of war. He didn't want to do this. He truly did not want to have to engage in such a messy war that wasn't even near his soil, but of course he would come in. He always did.

---

• We were very anti-Mexican, anti-German, anti-British, and kind of just anti-European in general. We really... wanted nothing to do with whatever the hell anyone did over there.
  
• "palookas": a clumsy person or an idiot... or both at the same time
  
• Sorry it took me so long to post something @_@ You know how easily distracted I can get XD
  

[albion]

"They're just a bunch of cowards. They're takin' a pretty big risk right now, those palookas."

Ignoring the fact he had no inclination as to what a 'palooka' was he snorted, the lad had no clue really. “They took it as they issued their ultimatum. They're merely a bunch of daft tossers out to prove something to the world.” A mirthless smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “It's too bad the world is listening to a different station.” His station, his and the allies. It was true that things were hard, but this was war. It wasn't meant to be a fricking walk in the park, and nor would it be.

He supposed there was at least some sense of amusement in the fact he was only just seeing this, only just grasping how totally moronic some could be at the art of war. This war though... wasn't it in itself just foolish? Yes, he supposed it was at the end of the day. He frankly didn't much care, and there was most certainly nothing he could actually gain from pondering such inconsequential things.

Really though, he hadn't technically been bound to join this war. Unlike the others his alliance wasn't the strictest, and it was only a matter of 'good will' that had pulled him into coming to the cheese-licking wino bastard's aid. He could have very easily been sat in his office observing the world's shenanigans from afar, yet no. Unlike the yank before him he knew damn well there was no way in hell neutrality was going to have a leg to stand on. One was always going to have to pick a side. One was always going to find themselves at the other end of an attack, neutral or not. He'd known this, and thus he'd placed his cards upon the table without a second thought.

Unlike this moron. He really did know nothing.

"Do you know what Mexico's response to the whole thing is?"

He shook his head slightly. "No, I don't yet know of what their response is.” That at least was true, he really didn't know that much. There was a part of him that knew damn well though that even if his people had known the answer they'd not have given it unless it was in their favour. Unless it had turned out to be an acceptance he was sure the information would have been withheld from the Americans, because at the end of the day that rather put a damper on their efforts of getting the others to join this. Perhaps it would still have had some merit. Germany after all would be in serious violation of their neutrality, and wouldn't that just piss them off to no end? Yes, it would~

“I can assure you though,” he started, gesturing both hands out in an open palmed fashion. “We will inform your representative immediately when we hear anything else on the matter. It is possible that more information has been received in my absence, though I obviously cannot comment upon that with certainty.” It was after all a relatively lengthy trip across the pond, even with technological advances it would take a while. Perhaps long enough for more news to be received... He'd have to find out for himself.

"I don't think sending in supplies is going to be enough... I hate to be a killjoy, but I'm not going to say anything yet. But one thing's for sure: regardless of whether they said yes or no, no one's getting away with it."

And that was exactly what he'd wanted to hear... More or less.

The boy was so easy to manipulate, too trusting really. Perhaps he thought Arthur incapable of lying to him? Perhaps he though it would go against his rules as a gentleman? Hm, doubtful. He knew well enough the American regard to his people, and thus it was more likely that the boy was merely being too rash to consider anything else. That was certainly a feasible answer to all of this, and he wasn't so sure such a thing would have shocked him to find out.

Instead of giving some snarky remark as to the boy's own foolishness (for he really could be a fool at times) he smiled. It was by no means happy, nor was it reassuring. More than anything it was merely an expression that didn't reach his eyes, one giving at least some regard to what the other was saying. “Of course. I didn't expect you to make an immediate decision on the matter, that would be the pursuit of a fool.” He'd give Alfred that much. A part of him had vaguely expected America to to haul up his weapon and announce he was going to kick their arse. It was laughable really, and a part of him really was relieved the other had not attempted such a thing.

“However, I will warn you of this.” Because no one would ever accuse him of being totally heartless... Or... Rather they would. He didn't really give a shit as to what they thought of him to be frank, they could go screw themselves for all he cared. “Regardless of what you decide, yay or nay, they're unlikely to leave you be. You're a threat to them, and under those terms neutrality means Jack Shit.” After all, this whole thing was proof enough of that. Who could say that they'd not simply do the same again? That the next time they wouldn't go further and simply attack out of the blue? No one knew that, and they never would until it was too late. Better safe than sorry, no?

----

- “They took it as they issued their ultimatum.” The treaty the Austro-Hungarians put upon the Serbians to try and get them to hand over the assassins of Franz. When it didn't work (which they expected) the felt it gave them right to declare a limited war on Serbia. What they HADN'T expected was that Serbia's relations with Russia would bring them into the war, but it did. Through Russia France was brought in, and being the kind souls we are our 'loose' treaty with France got is dragged into defend them. This war really was just caused by a clusterfuck of alliances iluworld

[usa]

"They took it as they issued their ultimatum. They're merely a bunch of daft tossers out to prove something to the world. It's too bad the world is listening to a different station.”

He shook his head slightly as he sounded a small, sarcastic chuckle. "You guys just like to fight." You can count on Europe to be the number one place where wars are fought. Guess that says a lot about who inhabited that small continent.

     To be honest the matter was quite difficult for him to really come to terms with. He didn't want to believe this was happening, but once his superiors got a hold of the message, Alfred knew for a fact that drastic measures were going to be taken. His president was strong, but so many violations of the nation's neutrality was becoming annoying and eventually something had to be done about it. War was going to be the best option since all the others seemed to have not worked out too well. He rested his head on his hand with fingers keeping his head straight and his elbow supporting it. Adjusting his glasses with his other hand he pondered on how severe this all was. Unfortunately, other than what was on the paper, things seemed pretty vague. That only complicated things further.

"No, I don't yet know of what their response is. I can assure you though. We will inform your representative immediately when we hear anything else on the matter. It is possible that more information has been received in my absence, though I obviously cannot comment upon that with certainty.”

"Hm, well I'm going to be optimistic and say it probably has." A smirk tugged at his lips. "I also hope it's a no. I mean, it would really suck if I had to kick their ass again." His tone gave off the impression he was somewhat amused about the whole thing, though in reality he was incredibly miffed.

     His relations with the southern nation were very rocky to say the least. It was before the Texan Revolution that they had at least somewhat better relations... in the American's eyes anyway. But what about now? Well most of America's people weren't particularly happy with their southern neighbors, and should war break out, America wasn't planning on rolling over and letting it just happen. He was going to do something about it. If anything he was going to be ahead of the game and do something before hand. His bosses wouldn't allow that, but he felt that he should have been in war quite a while ago.

“Of course. I didn't expect you to make an immediate decision on the matter, that would be the pursuit of a fool.”

"Admit it, you did." He said as he rolled his eyes laughing slightly to himself. "You don't have that kind of faith in me."

     Somewhere along the line things had changed so drastically that a proper conversation became almost impossible and every attempt at one just went downhill very fast. There was an obvious reason to it all, but that was something neither wanted to dwell upon. Rapping his fingers against the polished table he thought about his very limited choices. Should he support the movement of war or no? Was it in the nation's best interests? Was it in the people's? Who was to say when he had just received this powerful piece of paper which held more animosity that worded. Slowly America was starting to feel as if this was a threat to his honor. How could he and his government just stand by and let these things happen? Innocent people were killed on ships and so many others were at risk. Now the threat of war seemed to loom over the horizon and quite frankly he felt stressed out. Pressure was weighing down on him and felt as if everything just hit him at once. This was certainly a wake up call. It seemed trying to keep neutrality and simply spitting words at people was like trying to look away from the injustices that plagued the world, not even bothering to lend a helping hand because one pretended it didn't exist-that it wasn't happening. This was happening and this was real. Reality started to sink in although the young man remained his optimistic self. Things will be fine.

“However, I will warn you of this. Regardless of what you decide, yay or nay, they're unlikely to leave you be. You're a threat to them, and under those terms neutrality means Jack Shit.”

"Obviously..." He said sarcastically, looking at the painting of a cavalry man on the wall.

     He had several leaders and citizens that simply proved outright that the United States was a nation, new and developing, that should not be trifled with so lightly. James K. Polk was just one of those men who was simply high on the idea of Manifest Destiny. If it was up to the man, all of Mexico would be under America's Star-Spangled Banner. Instead he simply settled on the states that Germany was now offering to return. A more recent president, Theodore Roosevelt, was an action man. That man could do it all and without anyone stopping him. Fitting for a nation who's people were full of ambition. Americans were also notoriously known for being risk-takers. Going into a European war was a risk on its own. The nation had only been sending in supplies really, and Alfred himself was rather unaware of how severe everything really was over there. He knew it was pretty bad, but he chose to ignore it. If his nation wanted nothing to do with it, neither did he, even though personally he wanted to go in their and show the Central Powers a lesson. He resisted the impulse for a while, but now was an excuse to let it all out. Hopefully he could.

"Hey..." He started off, still looking at the picture hung on the wall. "If I said I could end the war to end all wars, would you believe me?"

     He wanted him to say no.

     America fed off of surprising those who doubt him. He became filled with hype and excitement whenever he managed to baffle the hell out of another by proving them wrong. That was how his nation grew to what it was. Simply overcoming odds that no one else could or even want to attempt. The feeling of doing something that was never done before was often his motivation to do certain things. The idea that he could help end the war was something that had been lingering in the back of his mind since the war in Europe started. His eyes looked into the Brit's green as a simple curious face was shown. He would perhaps be smacked for even suggesting such an arrogant thing, but in essence Alfred was really confident that his nation could help end this. It was an extra helping hand to say the least.

"I mean... supplies aren't going to cut it...~" A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

     A genuine smile that he had not shown to the other in what was essentially over a century. It was always in the nation's interest to keep everyone happy in order to be left alone. In Alfred's personal way of thinking, he simply felt the need that whenever he felt the need to show that he was content, he would flash a smile or a grin. Even a kind act would be performed. But towards Arthur? That was rare. The two rarely saw each other, but when they did it could be often portrayed as unfriendly. Someone always had to say either something stupid or something offensive in which things would simply go out of hand. Their nations got along fine, but the two people together almost never ended too well. There was never a reason for America to show a simply content smile to the man. His demeanor was that of sunshine and therefore a smile was always present, but the air given off is different.

     Because nothing says "I got this" better than a smile.

---

• James K. Polk was 11th president. This man wanted to fight and conquer everyone and their mother. He threatened war with Britain just to gain the Oregon territory, declared war on Mexico and gained 2 new states, wanted to actually go in and take over all of Mexico, wanted to buy Cuba from Spain, and let's not forget the phrase "54'40' or Fight!". He did a few other cool things too.
  
• Theodore Roosevelt was the 26th President. He was pretty BAMF as he's very well known for coming up with the 1st United States Volunteer Cavalry Regiment, which was badass all on it's own.
  
• "War to end all wars"- Verrrrry famous quote~

[albion]

"You guys just like to fight."

Cocking a brow a sneer pulled out on his face. “You're partially wrong, at least in regards to myself. I don't really care about fighting, it's a pain in the arse.” Actually it was just a pain all over, but anyway. “However, I do like to win.” And he really did. It was one of the reasons he was so bloody good at what he did. To take what he wanted he fought tooth and claw, unlike America he didn't just wait for it to fall neatly into his lap. He wasn't just a fighter, nor even just an empire. He was the victor. Time and time again he won.

"Hm, well I'm going to be optimistic and say it probably has. I also hope it's a no. I mean, it would really suck if I had to kick their ass again."

He doubted the other would at all find it to be a pity. America loved to throw his weight around, and from what Arthur could see he had absolutely no remorse about doing such a thing. He couldn't help but lament about the loss of that cute little boy he'd once been... There were no traces of his Alfred left, only this one. What a bother. “Yes, I'm sure you'd utterly hate to do such a thing.” And there was not a hint of sarcasm in that at all.

"Admit it, you did. You don't have that kind of faith in me."

With a flippant shrug it was obvious he couldn't really care less. “I have as much faith in you as you've given me reason to offer you. If I have little faith that would be your own fault, Alfred.” It was true really. He'd once put so much hope in the lad, so much love and adoration. He'd given the other his heart, only to see it shattered and ground down into the dirt be the heel of the others boots. There was no fucking wonder he had no faith in the other, and until the fool proved he was once more worthy of such a thing. One had to wonder though.... Was that even possible? Well now, that really was just down to the patience of the other. Once bitten, twice shy. Arthur had no present notion to give Alfred anything as valuable as faith, not for now, and not as long as the moron persisted in acting like such a high and mighty git.

"Hey... If I said I could end the war to end all wars, would you believe me?"

Grunting he knew both answers to that; his own, and the one the moron wanted him to give. He knew so well that Alfred wanted him to say he didn't believe him, and then he also knew the twat would just go out of his way to prove him wrong. He supposed this was in a way a good thing, if it got the job done then he had no doubt his people would be content. Yet he didn't much care for being proved wrong. Call it egotistical if you will, because that's very much what it came down to. At the end of the day he just loathed anyone having the upper hand over him, something probably having being kicked into him from childhood.

“I think,” he started flatly, gaze out of the window. “That no matter what I say you'd simply go out of your way to prove me wrong, and frankly this is no time to play games.” Because now was not the time. He didn't want to find himself caught up in another of Alfred's games that would only lead to embarrassment to he and his people. It had happened before, and there was little doubt in his mind that such a thing would happen again if he were to give the other any sort of indication as to his own personal stance. And yet... There was something else nagging at him. “However, I don't think it's fair to say that you could ever end this war when you have thus far done none of the work. Dear god, even the Frog has been of more use than you.” And he was fucking well French! “So whilst perhaps you could have a hand in it... Never be arrogant enough to presume that you alone would be responsible when so many people have already died to end it.”

"I mean... supplies aren't going to cut it...~"

It seemed he'd gotten Alfred on side with him, which had been his goal in all of this. At least now he supposed he could report back that his side of things were fine, and that his people just needed to convince the American's as a whole. Something easier said than done, though he couldn't say he cared too much on that matter. It was when he at last looked back that he felt something other than a dull sort of despondence to this whole mess he was currently in.

America was smiling, and not simply at nothing, nor about some strange sentiment he didn't grasp. It was at him. A part of him was truly happy about this, it was so fucking elated that the exact feelings of it would be hard to describe. The other part was not so happy, more than anything it wanted to rip that fucking smile right on off... If only because it proved how easily Alfred was able to put everything behind him, it showed America could do what England could not. After all this time Arthur was still hanging onto the past, and probably always would. That had been his single biggest loss. Not as a nation, and not as an empire. Rather, as a person.

With a sigh that did nothing to mask the now jostling confusing he instead opted to once more look away, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. It was a sad fact that Alfred was the only damn fool alive that could utterly screw him over, and ever since 1781 it had in no way been in a positive light. “I suppose not,” because really... What else could he say?

[usa]

“You're partially wrong, at least in regards to myself. I don't really care about fighting, it's a pain in the arse. However, I do like to win.”

"Stop having so many wars then, jeeze." He sighed a bit before continuing. "That or the general populace needs to calm down at least a tad,"

      For as long has he's ever known anything about Europe, he's known that they liked to fight. So much so that one of their wars ended up spilling over to his own land. In reply he had to fight off the French while British troops were on their way. And what did he get in the end? Not even a thanks. His people got jack shit either. Whatever, that was well in the past now. But the fact still remained. Thinking about it for a moment, maybe the tendencies of the Europeans probably rubbed off on him. America wasn't exactly the most peaceful of countries either despite the fact he claimed he was. Yeah ok.

“Yes, I'm sure you'd utterly hate to do such a thing.”

"Well yeah!" He said. "I mean it gets boring after two times."

      Ah, the Texan Revolution and the Mexican-American war. They were quick wars, but they were not without their losses. The Alamo, for one. Adjusting his glasses a bit to push them up the bridge of his nose he always wondered how a simple pair of spectacles caused so much ruckus. It was for the land, was it not? The Mexicans used to own a large portion of what was now America's land, and he sure as hell fought hard for the land. It was Manifest Destiny that caused the feverish need to expand borders. Both wars he wiped the floor with Mexico's army, or so Alfred liked to remember it as. An arrogant fellow to say the least, but it's not like he necessarily he just lucked out either. Though the more interesting matter was England's response to his curious question. He blinked as the blond's attention was once more put upon the green-eyed man's.

“I think, that no matter what I say you'd simply go out of your way to prove me wrong, and frankly this is no time to play games. However, I don't think it's fair to say that you could ever end this war when you have thus far done none of the work. Dear god, even the Frog has been of more use than you. So whilst perhaps you could have a hand in it... Never be arrogant enough to presume that you alone would be responsible when so many people have already died to end it.”

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to try." He simply shrugged. "Isn't that the right thing to do?" To come in and help them? Sure it was. It was starting to settle in. "Germany may think he's doin' himself a favor, but, in the long run, well, once President Wilson get's word of this... the man ain't holding back~" As far as Alfred was concerned, none of his presidents so far have.

      His questions were like a child's. They were innocent and simple. Their answers were taken to heart and he deciphered them by how they meant to him. A lot of times they were exaggerated and often didn't have the same meanings as the respondent had intended, but they were Alfred's meaning of the word's. Whatever was England's response to his question on what was right, the young man would be sure to listen out for it. Oftentimes his most innocent questions were the ones he didn't let go out the other ear. He took simple questions, received simple answers and gave them a deeper, more personal meaning. And as such, with Arthur's response, his smile grew a bit more.

“I suppose not.”

He clapped his hands together and sighed. "Well, at this point, all I need is Wilson's and the word of Congress to see where this is really going to go...~" For some reason, he felt somewhat mentally ready to go into war.

      Even though before he didn't clearly say what his position on the matter was, now it was more easily seen. To be fair, America had stayed out of the conflict for a bit too long. The German aggression against him had been digging at his nerves for quite some time and he hated that he wasn't allowed to start any form of war against the other nation and it's allies. He wanted to show the Central Powers a what-for, but Wilson kept him back. Come on, it was about time he found himself back in the action! He was ready for this! All he had been doing the last century was war after war after war. Had he not raked up enough experience? Then again, perhaps it was best that he stayed out. He couldn't just march into war like that. In the previous century there were a much different set of politics, warfare, and reasons to go into them. They were a little less complex than they were now and he knew that, but regardless, he wanted this. He needed this. He wasn't going to roll over anymore and let this happen. Brushing golden bangs out of blue eyes he closed his eyes and sighed with an comfortable smile.

"I'm not going to do this to prove you wrong, but rather, to prove the world wrong." His tone had changed from irritated to more relaxed, though at the same time a serious tone drifted in. "I mean, you really think I actually want to stand around and let this shit happen?" He sighed and opened eyes to look at him, full of resolve. "All those soldiers that died, I wanna help them not have died a vain death." A much softer smile rested on his features. "They might have not been my soldiers, but, I'm the bystander who wants in on the action.~"

      That he did. At first glance it was probably a childish statement, but his decision was that of someone with a resolve that would perhaps carry the resolve of his government and his people. He had had enough. His people perhaps did, and he was willing to fight in the name of them and Liberty. He wanted to fight Europe's war. Oh what would old man Washington think of him now?

[albion]

"Stop having so many wars then, jeeze. That or the general populace needs to calm down at least a tad."

Hey now, get the fucking facts right. “I didn't want to join this war. We were pulled into it due to a damn treaty with the cheese licking cunt.” They both knew he'd have ended up joining eventually though. England was not a nation to sit on the sidelines, and sooner or later he'd have been donning his military gear and charging into war. It probably was better to have joined from the start of it, at least then he couldn't be accredited any fault due to coming in late.

"Well yeah! I mean it gets boring after two times."

Now to be fair that depended how you did it. He never got bored of kicking France's and Spain's arses, there was something oddly satisfying about it. Oh of course it would get boring if you used the same method over and over, but when you threw a new twist on it each time? Ah, now he could safely say that such a thing was not boring. If the other was too uninventive to see such a thing then that was down to him, he was simply too naïve really... Or perhaps you could consider him the smartest of all.

He didn't hanker for war. He didn't fight just because... Arthur couldn't help but find it ironic really, so very ironic.

"Well, at this point, all I need is Wilson's and the word of Congress to see where this is really going to go...~"

That sounded about right, though he had no doubt that there was bound to be some heavy scepticism involved in this whole thing. It till astounded him that America was so damn ready to believe him so freely. Was he that foolish? He had no right no reason to trust him... Yet a part of him was pleased that he did. Perhaps it was for the best.

He nodded. “Yes, well that's why I'm here after all.” Or perhaps it was more of a gesture of goodwill on the part of his boss. 'Send the nation so we look more hospitable and friendly'. Yes, it was a charming idea provided they weren't the ones being dragged halfway around the world to do it. He needed to be with his people. He needed to be rallying them to the lines to help put the Krauts in their place, here he considered himself nothing more than useless. He was at war, and yet here he was. Wasting time for no reason. Nothing he did or said was going to change the outcome of this, not really.

"I'm not going to do this to prove you wrong, but rather, to prove the world wrong."

So, Alfred though he was better than the world? How very.... American of him. He held the comment to himself though, for now it was pointless.

"I mean, you really think I actually want to stand around and let this shit happen?"

With a vague shrug he gestured his hand through the air, almost brushing the comment away. “How should I know what you want? Such a thing his nowt to do with I.” He really didn't know, and that was the problem. It left him on a vicious edge. Salvation or the Wolves. It was a fine line between the two, he knew that, and in the back of his mind there was that nagging feeling that this would be time he ended up with the wolves. He needed Alfred, and he hated that. He hated that he and his people was so desperate to fall to such underhanded methods to bring them into it. He hated that the other may see through him, that he'd see how transparent his strength really was... But perhaps that had happened already.

His salvation would come though. Even if his people had to give up everything to take it he knew they would. That would be strength enough were he not worried for those that would never return. For those who had wives. For those who had children. For those that had must photographs that they'd gloat about. All for that pretty little mouse waiting for her sir to return and sweep her off her feet. He couldn't help but worry for his people, because it was never just one person who died when a life was taken.

"All those soldiers that died, I wanna help them not have died a vain death. They might have not been my soldiers, but, I'm the bystander who wants in on the action.~"

Bristling he snapped his head to the side, glaring firmly at... anything. “They won't have died in vain anyway. Not one of them will have, and you know why? Because win or lose, though I've no doubt we of course will win, they fought with an unparallelled bravery that makes it worth it.” With a snort he looked back, head shaking slightly as he did. “Stop with the arrogance. It's unfitting of you, and frankly it's damn insulting.” And oh was this not going splendidly? Yet this was not what he was meant to be doing. His damn boss would have him strung up if he knew ought about this, thus he gave a frustrated sigh.

“Look... what I mean is..” Because he'd be fucked if it was easy being civil to this twat who'd caused him so many problems, and was yet again doing so. “You know what I mean.” He probably didn't, not now, and not ever. He was content enough for it to simply stay that way though, there was no need to get into it any deeper than needed. Not when it was business and nothing more.

[usa]

“I didn't want to join this war. We were pulled into it due to a damn treaty with the cheese licking cunt.”

"Harsh." He said. "You guys get yourselves into pretty... odd situations, but ok."

“How should I know what you want? Such a thing his nowt to do with I.”

"It was a rhetorical question, mister~" He chimed slightly.

He sighed a bit and folded his hands together behind his head, looking at his former caretaker. Oh how things have changed. It was no wonder the two had trouble getting along. Did they ever put effort into it at all? Well, maybe not, but whatever the case, Alfred was making the best of these moments, even though this was strictly a business matter. A child at heart he was somewhat elated to see the older man, but on the other side of the coin he didn't really want to. He wasn't sure how he felt about his presence at the moment but during these times of war he preferred that he wasn't bugged so much about joining the war. In the end they would get what they wanted, that much was certain. He almost sighed exasperatedly at the thought. Europe was always pulling at his strings, weren't they?

“They won't have died in vain anyway. Not one of them will have, and you know why? Because win or lose, though I've no doubt we of course will win, they fought with an unparallelled bravery that makes it worth it. Stop with the arrogance. It's unfitting of you, and frankly it's damn insulting.”

Unfortunatly such behavior had already become an integral part of the average American persona. It was what gave them the confidence to move them forward despite the fact that such behavior was looked down upon strongly. You were not to underestimate your foe or look cocky. Of course, they went against those little tips and kind of just winged it whenever things got tough. Some say it was luck that they won wars, other say it was actual skill. There were some that said it was a mix of both, and another batch that said that everyone else just sucked. Whatever the case, the ego was still there. How they managed to rake up so much of it in a short amount of time was questionable.

“Look... what I mean is.. You know what I mean.”

"I know what you mean. I'm not offended or anything." As... bad as it was he really didn't care much for the comments that were just thrown at him. "Anyways..." He trailed off as he stood and stretched a bit. "Is there anything else?"

In a way it seemed like he was rushing things a bit as he was always impatient and didn't feel like sitting in the stuff chair all day discussing matters. He would much rather use action instead of words to get his message across. He never able to sit still for long periods of time as he preferred to stand than sit, and from there he'd rather pace around than stand still. He really did have boundless energy. His expression oddly enough didn't look too concerned for a possible war with Mexico, nor was it at all worried that he would have to go into an popular war. If anything he felt quite giddy about it. He wasn't a fan of war per say, but he had been doing nothing for a while and he didn't feel like romping around the White House all day while this war in Europe was still being waged.

---

• ugh short, sorry ><

[albion]

"It was a rhetorical question, mister~"

Narrowing his eyes slightly he wondered briefly for a moment how the hell this brat dare to argue with him, yet then he remembered just who this boy was. “Belt up,” he snapped. He was in no damn mood at all for his games, and whilst this may have been the freaking shit and giggles for Alfred it was by no means such for Arthur. This was war, and yet here was the bastard mocking him as if this whole thing was nothing more than a joke for his amusement. That was simply Alfred all over.

He was selfish in ever sense of the word, holding everything into himself until the last moment so that he may seem the grand saviour. Here was everyone flogging dead horses just to actually survive… and what? America thought he could sit there on his pedestal and just jolly on in as he damn well pleased? Dear god the boy was a fucking narcissist. He’d once cared about humanity, about other people. Yet now all he was really concerned about was tromping all over the place to throw his weight around. He was a damn insufferable fool.

Arthur had once thought there may be some hope for the boy, salvaging anything better than they had now. It was a fruitless effort and he knew it under it all. He could reach out all he really wanted but it would always be pushed away, cast down as something useless and just plain unwanted. Somewhere that made something clench painfully. It was no doubt that in some rather odd way there was only any persistence due to some derailed sense of masochism. That’s all it was after all, when there was no hope and merely rejection you had to be such a thing to keep making any sort of effort with it.

"I know what you mean. I'm not offended or anything."

Oh no, of course not. Heavens forbid the mighty British empire had ever had any ability to actually hurt America in any way. Be it words or actions he was perhaps simply too weak to find a way to do so. Pity, the wanker needed a jolly good kick in that overinflated ego he had going these days. "Well. Good. Yes." Oh fuck it all, he really didn't need this. He had far more important things to be contending with on the front lines. He damn well found himself sure that being shot by some bastard kraut was far easier to deal with than Alfred.

He'd take the kraut and his bullets any day, at least then he'd only be tugging lead out of himself and waiting not so patiently for the new scar to form upon the older ones.

"Anyways... Is there anything else?"

Wanting to say at least something he opened his mouth to make some effort, though quickly closed it again and gave a curt shake of his head. "No, I'll endeavour not to waste any more of your obviously dear time, have no fear of that." He supposed he really should have expected nothing more than this brash idiocy from the boy, never anything more than that. It was perhaps sad to consider what had once been there next to what was there now. The two things were starkly different, the present was ugly and twisted in all the wrong ways. The past... That was so much better.

With the barest hint of a pause he pushed himself up, squaring aching shoulders off. The war to end all wars they were calling this, and for better or for worse he hoped that such a thing was true. The old empire was truly sick of carrying everything on shoulders far too slim to ever do so, and this was only further proof of why. He'd not wanted to join this war, yet he knew well enough the bastards who'd started it needed to be put firmly in their place. If that meant putting yet more strain on those shoulders then so be it, he'd do what he had to do.

"I'll be off then," because that was all that was left. It'd take a fool to ever want for owt else... though he supposed he'd been accused of being such more than often enough.

----

This was meant to be up yesterday, but the freaking school computer went OMNOMNOM on it and killed it. Thankfully I got the file to recover today using a different server ;-; omgIamsohappy

[usa]

“Belt up.”

      Harsh words, were they not? It hardly mattered. He did not flinch at the words, no react. Simply he looked at him and raised a brow, the smile disappearing somewhat as if he had realized the seriousness of the situation. For anyone that knew the young man, that was probably not the case. Instead he found that England had not taken his light banter in the same light manner. Of course the situation that was currently taking place was no laughing matter, all would leave it to Alfred to act so out of context. Perhaps it was his immaturity doing so, or perhaps he was doing it on purpose as if to cruelly taunt the other. America was no such man, and therefore many would just leave it up to the simple fact he could not read the atmosphere. Such was correct.

"Well. Good. Yes."

      The young man simply looked at him without saying much else. To one it might have felt a bit disconcerting as his look had suddenly become slightly more serious than it was before. What he was doing was more looking at England's form and expressions, trying to read him a bit better as he looked almost bored. It was obvious that he was here and only here and only here for business, but for some reason America wanted to be a bit more relaxed with his speech and have a normal discussion. None of what Arthur was giving off indicated such as a possibility and therefore discarded from his mind. Even for him that seemed like a rather daft thought. It was frustrating really. The fact he couldn't speak comfortably around someone who was once his brother itched at him for a reason he couldn't really understand himself. Instead of resorting to just going with how he wanted to carry out this conversation, he continued with it in the same awkward manner they both had been conversing with. Neither of them really helped each other in that sense. No wonder the conversation was going so badly. Though America had his reasons.

"No, I'll endeavour not to waste any more of your obviously dear time, have no fear of that."

"So soon?" He asked rather curiously as he tilted his head, reminiscent of a child.

      It was hard to tell if he was genuinely curious or if he was just saying that to sound remotely polite. Either way, he watched the blond stand as Alfred himself folded his arms slightly. America felt as if this conversation had really gotten nowhere and the simple uncomfortable air overtook them. Well, at least for Alfred it sure did. He himself stood as if to try and break the feeling, though that seemed obviously unsuccessful. He slanted his eyes slightly as if the Briton couldn't see. That man was always coming and going when you least expected it. Ever since he was a child this was a case. He would leave as soon as he came and there were instances where there would be years in between visits. It frustrated him, and even now England's current actions were reminding him of such times. His countenance began to hold a very slight hint of frustration because of it.

"I'll be off then."

"Oh. Well that sucks." He did not even bother to go ahead and offer a handshake in farewell. "I guess... I'll be seeing you around?"

      Whatever chance he had of easing the aura of the room had since been dashed. His attempt at lightening the mood had failed, his expressions of remote content feeling failed. Everything. Everything. Perhaps he wasn't trying hard enough, or perhaps it was just the wrong time. Either way, here Arthur was leaving again and here America stood alone to fend for himself. The cycle never ended. And every time it came around, America only felt more frustrated about it. Every interaction was awkward, there were still-ill feeling from past wars. It drove him a bit mad in his mind, but he pushed it down so far down every single time they met again just so that they managed to get just enough done without having to bicker. Perhaps it was just America's fault for being so rash, but he felt that he was entitled to do so. It wasn't so much he did it just to be malicious and annoying, but rather because he felt that things were better off this way, and so the comments were thrown as if to convince himself of this fact.

      A knock at the door was heard. Before moving he gave one last look at the Englishman before walking off to get the door. Upon opening it there was a man standing, stating something about requesting Alfred's presence. Without a look back for a goodbye, he simply nodded and agreed he would go. With an almost angry sigh he said much more.

"Remember when I said Europeans were nothing but trouble?" While it sounded rhetoric he really wanted an answer, and said it as if it was meant to sound offensive, regardless of whether Arthur was still present or not.

"Yes. Through the whole war you've been saying that..."

"Yeah well.. here's why." He stated almost exasperatedly, "Send this to the President."

      Without another word he walked passed the man rather abruptly. The man looked back, then looked back into the room and wondered what had went on. Feeling the mood he chose to say nothing of it. If England still happened to be there, the man would simply look at the other worryingly before slowly making his way out once more. Meanwhile, Alfred refused to look anyone straight in the eye as he walked down the halls. Shit. Not only did this mean war, but, ugh. Fucking hell. He felt that had the dynamic of that little meeting been different, then he would have felt a bit better about this whole possible-war-with-Mexico thing, but now, he wasn't so sure. While he wasn't frightened, he just didn't want to be involved. If anything, he felt rathered pressured, a feeling he absolutely did not need. Now he was blaming Europe for this little problem he had on his hands, and quite frankly he was hating it. While England seemed rather... "okay" about discussing it, America simply could not really handle how stiff the conversation was, despite his attempts at loosening it. The meeting kind of just... stopped after. Stopping he leaned against the wall and ran his fingers through his hair. What a bother... but...

      Heroes gotta do what heroes gotta do...

[/color]

---

I'LL CODE LATER ASDFGYHUJI OK THERE.[/blockquote]

[albion]

"So soon?"

Snorting he cast the boy a critical gaze at the boy. Was he really so foolish, or was he just a bastard? England no long knew. “Well of course, I've no reason to stay now, do I?” It was rhetorical and the answer was no. They both knew that there was no point in his being here, no longer any reason to try and endure something that was so utterly uncomfortable for both. Of course technically he supposed he'd be here for perhaps a day or two longer, at least until the general goal of being able to placate any questions that would arise had been full filled. There was of course no small disappointed in finally being able to remove himself from the stuffy room, the room that seemed far too small when there was no one else but the two of them within it.

It was pointless and they both knew it... And yet... Oh and yet was it not so simply fundamentally wrong? The fact that two who had once shared so much now only shared... Resentment? Ignorance? Denial? It was something that was a sorry excuse for what had once been there, and yet this was how it was. The world had changed and times had moved on, times but not minds. Arthur was stuck in the past in some ways, seeking to remain there. There and not here. Always there because it was in that time that he'd been happy. He'd had everything. He'd been powerful and on top of the world.

Now he merely felt old.

"Oh. Well that sucks. I guess... I'll be seeing you around?"

He didn't truly care for the matter, not when the bastard offered some semblance of actually giving a shit. Not when it was clear that he didn't. The boy would no doubt be far too gratified to have him leave, that was what he'd fought for after all. Who would England be if he did not in fact honour such a thing? Well obviously he'd be less of a fool, but he hardly cared for the matter.

“I doubt it. I've a war to attend you see. They do rather absorb your time, though I'm perfectly sure you're capable to find someone else to amuse yourself with.” It was indeed with this notion that he strode forward, pulling the door open with little backward glance. There was no need after all, no need to pay any mind to the little boy who was content to merely sit and watch in safety. Arthur truly did have more important matters to attend, and they did not include a merry little chat with America. Not any more. Not now.

As he left down the hall he truly didn't pay much mind to the gent which was heading towards the very room he'd left only moments ago, it was not his concern. His concern was finding an English representative in this godforsaken country lest he end up with a hotel. Rather that than the street though... And rather the street than forcing himself to ask America for anything. The boy would simply laugh anyway, such a bastard he was.