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Post by Prussia on Jun 12, 2011 21:11:33 GMT -5
~Valley Forge; December, 1777~ Prussia was never one with much patience. He didn't like to wait for anything or anyone. So it was suffice to say that the long travel to America, combined with the march to this Valley Forge, left him pretty pissed off and annoyed. The only company he'd had during the old thing was Frederick William and his translators. And Frederick, while a damn good soldier, was boring as hell. "Hey, Fritzy. Are we there yet?" he asked. Frederich regarded his nation's personification with a straight face. "Almost, Sir Prussia." he replied. He then continued to ignore Prussia's antics. When he'd first been introduced to the belligerent albino and told that he was, in fact, the country of Prussia, he'd thought that His Majesty had gone insane. But now, he just accepted it as another one of life's anomalies. The Prussian officer came to an abrupt stop as they came to the entrance of a camp. "We're here." "Finally!" Prussia practically cheered, rushing ahead of Frederick. "Alright, Fritz, I'll leave the whole human thing to you. I've got a country to find!" He didn't stop to hear Fredericks reply, he was too anxious to see who he'd be whipping into shape. That anxiety soon turned to shock, horror, and disgust. "What the hell..." The albino growled, looking around. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. A ragtag group of men in ragtag uniforms. Some were doing the stupidest looking drills he'd ever seen, without a bit of order, while their 'officers' argued over which looked the best. Some of them were cooking, using their bayonets as spitroasts! And, worst of all, he found one of them pissing. In the camp. "Who the hell is responsible for this?" Prussia growled, fuming from the spectacle before him. This wasn't an army! It was a joke! "Hey, you!" he growled, grabbing some guy with light brown hair by the shoulder, spinning him around to glare into his blue eyes. "I'm looking for someone called Alfred Jones! Where is he? |
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Post by America on Jun 12, 2011 22:29:19 GMT -5
Date: December, 1777
Valley Forge, Pennsylvania'It's so fucking cold, it's so fucking cold, it's so fucking COLD...' [/color] Even inside the cabins that they'd spent so long putting up, Alfred could feel the cold pouring in. It was licking at his bones, freezing his skin to ice, and no matter how much he shivered and shuddered and huddled over campfires so close that it seemed much more likely that HE would be the one set on fire, it was just too...fucking...COLD. ...Of course, if he was feeling the cold this bad, Alfred knew the army was feeling it ten times worse. There was always someone discovered frozen to death in the mornings, lately. General Washington was trying, Alfred knew that, but this was never going to last. Not when it was so absolutely fucking COLD... Huddling in on himself more, Alfred tucked the wool blanket and thin excuse for a scarf closer and tried to remember the last time he'd felt warm. The last time...it was... ...Fuck, he couldn't remember it. All Alfred could see in his head was England, all snug and cozy in New York (or maybe Philadelphia, Alfred's heart ached enough for it to be a possibility) with a roaring fire, good food, and...and... 'It's SO. FUCKING. COLD.'[/color] Eventually, a twinge in his lower belly managed to alert Alfred that he'd have to step outside the cabin today after all. It didn't make any damn sense - not enough food, but he still had to piss? - but Alfred sighed and resigned himself to getting off the floor and heading out. The blanket was still wrapped tightly around him, no way was he going outside in just his normal, far-too-thin coat and a shitty scarf. The other thing Alfred was carrying was his musket. The men were getting desperate these days. Anything you left alone for a few minutes seemed to up and disappear. But Alfred wasn't about to let someone take his gun - it had saved his ass plenty of times already, and if luck was with him it would keep doing so in the future. ... If he made it through this horrible winter, that was... Alfred was just finishing up at the corner of the cabin, musket tucked in the crook of his arm, when he heard the men starting to talk. Something had gotten their attention, something really unusual... He didn't have time to notice more than a blur out of the corner of his eye before Alfred was seized by the shoulders and spun violently around. It was startling to be shouted at by a strange man in a uniform he didn't recognize. "I'm looking for someone called Alfred Jones! Where is he?"[/color] "What - hell - "[/color] Alfred stammered, initially bewildered. Who the hell was this? How did this guy even know his name? And - suddenly, Alfred realized that he wasn't just looking at some random person. This was a nation - no it was another nation, just because England refused to accept it didn't make Alfred any less of a nation in his own right now - and - and - "Wh-What do - who the hell are you?!"[/color] Suddenly wary, Alfred tried to step back from the unknown nation but the cabin was in his way. Still, he tried to clutch at his musket in a more threatening manner - and in a way that hopefully didn't reveal it was unloaded - while he waited to see who this was. Another nation...who was this? Were they friendly? Or had England sent out for reinforcements...?[/center] ---- - I write long posts, sorry~
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Post by Prussia on Jun 13, 2011 0:01:50 GMT -5
"Wh-What do - who the hell are you?!"
Prussia glared at the stammering idiot, when reality hit him like a ton of bricks. This guy wasn't a human. He was... "Oh mein Gott." Prussia released America and pinched the bridge of his nose like he had drank too much last night. He had, but that's besides the point. "You have got the be fucking kidding me. This is who I'm supposed to be training? Sheisse!" The embodiment of Prussia swore.
Oh well, nothing he could do about it now. Prussia grabbed America by the collar and pulled him so close that the other could smell what the Prussian had for breakfast that morning. "Alright, you worthless waste of space!" he barked, "My name is The Kingdom of Prussia. You got that? The Kingdom of Mother Fucking Prussia! And you're just a little piss ant colony stupid enough to think he can tackle England! Personally, I just want to leave you here to die so there's one less piece of trash in the world, but because France insisted that I help you, I'm going to be showing you how to man up! So put on your big girl panties and tighten your courset, because I'm not going to make it easy for you!" Prussia barked, spittle flying onto the Colonies face with each word.
"From now on, you do what I say, when I say it! You won't eat, sleep, or scratch your balls without my say so! And if I tell you to turn rocks into loaves, then God help you if you don't have enough bread to open a fucking bakery within the next hour! Furthermore-Wait. What the hell were you doing?" Prussia looked passed America and saw the drying puddle. He then looked down to at America's pelvis, then back at his face. "Were you...Were you just taking a piss?" He asked incredulously. Without waiting for an answer, he shoved America down and grabbed him by the hair, forcing him onto his knees. "Do you piss on your rug at home? Because you know what else does that? A dog! And if you're going to act like a dog, I'm going to treat you like one!" Prussia shouted into his ear, forcing America's head dangerously close to the puddle. "From now on, if you need to do that, either dig a latrine or at least have the decency to do it outside of your own damn camp! Next time, I'm going to rub your face in it, got that?" Prussia released America, and stood up. "Now get up, maggot! Training starts NOW!"
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Post by America on Jun 13, 2011 8:59:48 GMT -5
Date: December, 1777
Valley Forge, PennsylvaniaThe other nation only seemed to notice what Alfred was just then, releasing his shoulder. Maybe this guy wasn't here for England after - what was he saying now? Training? His English was heavily accented with some other language, something heavy and coarse, that made it hard for Alfred to understand him.
Alfred had no more time to wonder, however, because the other nation promptly grabbed his collar and hauled him up close to his face - and Alfred's stomach promptly rumbled and thrashed in protest as his nose detected the scent of someone else getting to eat today.
"Alright, you worthless waste of space! My name is The Kingdom of Prussia. You got that? The Kingdom of Mother Fucking Prussia [/u]! And you're just a little piss ant colony stupid enough to think he can tackle England!"[/b][/i][/color] "Wh - I am NOT a colony!"[/color] Dammit, he wasn't a colony anymore! Why wouldn't anyone listen?! It was impossible to get more than that out, though, since this guy - Prussia, apparently - was far more interested in shouting right in Alfred's face than letting him get a word in edgewise. "Personally, I just want to leave you here to die so there's one less piece of trash in the world, but because France insisted that I help you, I'm going to be showing you how to man up! So put on your big girl panties and tighten your courset, because I'm not going to make it easy for you!"[/color] Flinching from the volume (and the flecks of spit landing on his face), Alfred was having trouble processing what he was hearing. Training? France? ...France had sent this - this guy here?! The continued verbal abuse didn't really register with Alfred, he was too confused over this sudden, incredible change to normal camp life to pick up the details. It was only when the flow of abuse suddenly paused that Alfred's brain refocused on the nation shouting in his face. "Were you...Were you just taking a piss?"[/color] Before Alfred could say anything (this was turning into a pattern), Prussia had shoved him down on his knees, grabbing the young nation roughly by the hair and forcing his face a inch from the liquid in question. It was already starting to freeze over, but what wasn't was still releasing gentle puffs of steam and the stench of urine quickly filled Alfred's nostrils. Two competing thoughts were stampeding through Alfred's brain. How was this Prussia guy so fucking FAST? And he - he wasn't going to really rub Alfred's face in it, was he?! Thank god, Prussia didn't - but the threat of doing it next time sounded alarmingly genuine. 'Of course I don't fucking do that normally!'[/color] Alfred's brain was shouting back, 'No one can dig when the ground's frozen this hard and no one wants to spend more time then they have to wandering through this fucking COLD!'[/color] As much as he thought it, unfortunately, Alfred just couldn't get it out in words. He just...the hand in his hair let go, but Alfred remained on his knees. He was shaking now, through whether it was from cold, pain, anger, fear, or just his stomach's raw, churning jealousy Alfred didn't know. "F - Fuck,"[/color] Alfred groaned, glaring up at Prussia, "What the fuck is your problem?"[/color] Maybe that was a poor choice of words, but dammit - Alfred was tired and hungry and fucking COLD and he didn't appreciate being berated over his own damn fighting when he knew things were going to hell. Things would get better in spring, as long as they could make to spring...General Washington would figure something out, Congress would think of something, it wasn't hopeless... All the regular soldiers and militia staying in the camp that could see this had long since made themselves scarce. Even the ones that had turned into outright thieves who would've otherwise normally gone after a stranger in camp knew better than to cross Prussia's path, it seemed.[/center]
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Post by Prussia on Jun 14, 2011 8:54:05 GMT -5
Prussia sneered at the so-called 'Country'. He turned his head to the side and spat out a loogey, then responded. "My fucking problem is you, piss ant." he replied. "I've been dragged out to this backwater piece of dirt to teach you, quite possibly the biggest waste of space I've ever seen, to fight. Not only that, I'm expected to teach you to be able to fight The British Fucking Empire!" Prussia replied, folding his arms over his chest. "You think just because you're throwing a little tantrum that you're suddenly a country? Think again, kid. England's got you by the balls, and unless you can pry 'em out of his hands, you are nothing more than a piss ant, back water colony. And if you think having France on your side is going to make this easy, you've got another thing coming. He couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag, and I'm speaking from personal experience."
Prussia then, without warning, kicked America. "What are you still laying around for, idiot? I thought I told you to get your candy ass up!" he barked. "There will be no more of this screwing around I've been seeing. From now on, you're going to drill the right way. You're going to drill in the morning. You're going to drill in the afternoon. You're going to drill all the way up untill you go to bed, and depending on my mood at the time, you'll get from six to a half hours worth of sleep before I haul your ass out of bed and drill you again. Now get up, you worthless piece of filth!" Prussia barked, yanking America up by his collar. "Straighten your back, put those legs together, hands at your side, raise your head up, suck in that gut!" Prussia ordered, his words ramming into one quick sentence. "You will come out and stand like this every morning. You will greet me with a 'Good Morning, Sir', and then you will be absolutely fucking quiet unless I tell you to speak. Do I make myself clear, Maggot?"
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Post by America on Jun 14, 2011 20:11:05 GMT -5
Date: December, 1777
Valley Forge, PennsylvaniaAlfred really was confused as hell at the moment, on top of everything else he was feeling. This guy, Prussia, pretty obviously did not want to help Alfred do anything, but then why was he still here and shouting about training him if Prussia didn't want to do it? Alfred might not have known the other nation even existed until about five minutes or so ago, but already he had the distinct impression that Prussia only did whatever the hell he wanted to do, and fuck everyone else.
That stuff about England sounded almost sensible too, considering that at the moment Alfred was really not faring very well. It was hard to consider a war where your capital and largest city were easily conquered and held as one that was going well, even Alfred knew that mu- !
Prussia's kick took him completely by surprise, knocking him sideways against the wall of the cabin. The sharp pains now located in his ribs and the side of his head throbbed in time with Prussia's new diatribe about drilling. Drilling day and night? Only getting six hours of sleep if he was lucky? What kind of training was this supposed to be, the kind that worked Alfred to death?! Probably - Prussia must have been serious when he'd been ranting about wanting Alfred to die so he didn't have to teach him. Clearly this was a plan to ensure that just that happened!
By the time Prussia hauled Alfred back off the ground by his collar, any hint of the vaguely charitable thoughts Alfred might have been thinking about the other nation were long gone.
"Straighten your back, put those legs together, hands at your side, raise your head up, suck in that gut! You will come out and stand like this every morning. You will greet me with a 'Good Morning, Sir', and then you will be absolutely fucking quiet unless I tell you to speak. Do I make myself clear, Maggot?" [/color] Alfred did absolutely none of those things that Prussia had just spat at him. His hands were up and grabbing Prussia's own wrist in an attempt to pull the other nation off his collar (Alfred had finally lost his grip on his musket after being kicked), his head was listing to the side, and he was not about to be anything near fucking quiet. "Why the hell should I?"[/color] Alfred retorted, eyes blazing, "You don't give a shit, clearly, and I definitely don't remember asking for your help! If my army disgusts you that much, then why don't you just get out of here and let us fight our own way?!"[/color] Not the best retort, but Alfred was angry now and didn't care. So what if no one else in the world wanted to take England on? To hell with all of them! Alfred and his people were going to live as they wanted or they'd die trying, and anyone that didn't like the idea could just fuck off![/center] ---- - Please feel free to beat Alfred's mouthy little self unconscious.
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Post by Prussia on Jun 15, 2011 15:46:49 GMT -5
Prussia paused for a grand total of about two seconds, then slammed America up against the cabin wall. "Why?" he repeated. "Because I'm your only chance at getting through this alive, you little shit, THATS why." Prussia released America and gave him a few inches to breath. "You call this an army, kid? Look around. You're weak. Undisciplined. You don't stand a fucking chance. I've met countries who would send in troops with NO rations, and only enough weapons to arm HALF their armies AT BEST, and still kick the ass of every son of a bitch that got in their way. You know why? Because THEY knew what the fuck they were doing. You obviously do not."
"And as much as I'm starting to hate you, I want to see that prat England kicked off his little high horse even more." Prussia added. Picking up America's musket, he tossed it to him. "So it's your choice, kid. Either stop your bitching so I can teach you how to be a soldier, or continue acting like a spoiled brat and you can either go back to sipping tea and eating crumpets or die, depending on jolly old Englands mood. I'll be waiting over there." Prussia pointed to the edge of the camp he came in at, and walked away. This was going to be hard. Even for the Awesome Him.
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Post by America on Jun 19, 2011 18:23:38 GMT -5
Date: December, 1777
Valley Forge, PennsylvaniaAlfred saw sparks exploding across his vision as his head violently made contact with the wall of the cabin. After Prussia let him go, he still had to cling to the wooden planks with his fingers to keep from falling down again, his balance suddenly suspect. Over the ringing in his ears Alfred could hear Prussia insulting and berating him even more.
"You call this an army, kid? Look around. You're weak. Undisciplined. You don't stand a fucking chance. I've met countries who would send in troops with NO rations, and only enough weapons to arm HALF their armies AT BEST, and still kick the ass of every son of a bitch that got in their way. You know why? Because THEY knew what the fuck they were doing. You obviously do not." [/i][/color] Before Alfred's brain could put together a retort to all this, however, something hit him. Clutching at it reflexively, Alfred was surprised to discover that it was his musket. Prussia had picked it up and tossed it to him. "So it's your choice, kid. Either stop your bitching so I can teach you how to be a soldier, or continue acting like a spoiled brat and you can either go back to sipping tea and eating crumpets or die, depending on jolly old Englands mood. I'll be waiting over there."[/color][/b] Blankly, Alfred watched as Prussia turned and headed for the edge of the camp. His head was slowly clearing up, but that just left him with a whole new mix of feelings and thoughts that refused to lay themselves out clearly. ...Well, one thing was clear: Prussia was definitely an ass. The winter wind chose to whip past at that moment, leaving Alfred shivering and tugging his blanket tightly around his body. That was the other clear thing: it was freezing here. Not that you would have been able to tell by looking at that Prussia guy, oh no: well-fed and wearing clothing that seemed able to actually keep the worst of the chill out...or maybe it was because he was a strong, well-established kind of nation. Alfred could see continental soldiers coming back out of hiding now that the scary foreigner was gone. Looking at them, Alfred felt less and less convinced of what he'd shouted at Prussia. Everyone was thin, everyone was hungry, everyone was cold, and just by the looks on their faces it was clear that most of the soldiers were going on nothing but the fast-fading hope that things would somehow be all right if they made it to spring. ...But...at this rate...no one would make it to spring. They'd all starve and freeze to death before spring. Or else everyone would desert, run home and try to pretend that this had never happened...General Washington couldn't keep them here on promises of money forever. It all gave Alfred the morbid thought of England, in all his red-coated glory, marching into Valley Forge to find Alfred surrounded by an army of frozen corpses. Though if Alfred was going to be honest about this at all, he'd had that thought more than once already. 'Prussia's right,'[/color] Alfred admitted to himself, 'We can't last like this. We can't...WIN like this! But...'[/color] But that meant going to Prussia and accepting what the other nation had to teach. And Alfred wasn't sure he was willing to take more abuse, even if for the sake of his people. HIS people. Not Prussia's, not France's, and especially not England's...even if they didn't all see themselves as one people, not yet and maybe not ever, they were all Alfred's people. But Alfred still wasn't sure. Standing in one place for too long was sucking the last bits of heat out of Alfred's body: stiffly at first, he began picking his way through the snow across camp. If he was going in the same direction Prussia had gone...well, what of it? Alfred could go where he liked in his own army camp! Especially since there was some strange new activity going on this way too, now that Alfred was paying attention to it... ...That new activity turned out to be strange foreigners in the same uniform as Prussia. The soldiers were gathering to see them too, and as he slipped in amongst the crowd Alfred could hear snippets of what everyone was saying. When the word he heard most frequently was training, well... 'He...really meant it,'[/color] Alfred found himself thinking in shock, 'That guy...he's an ass, but...he brought HELP...'[/color] France hadn't sent help. Alfred's own brother hadn't sent help - had fought against Alfred, driven him and the army southwards, even - but Prussia meant it. He was serious. He was an ass, but he was...honest? No, blunt was a better term, but...Alfred slipped away from the crowd and headed for where he thought Prussia had said he'd be waiting, mind whirling. When he finally spotted the other nation again, Alfred wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't about to say he was sorry for what he'd said earlier, because Alfred definitely wasn't, but... "You actually...came to help, didn't you?"[/color] Alfred wished that didn't sound as incredulous as it sounded, but that was the truth too. He still couldn't quite believe it, to be honest, but apparently Prussia was really, genuinely here to help.[/center]
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Post by Prussia on Jun 21, 2011 16:51:34 GMT -5
Prussia folded his arms and leaned against a tree. Because that's what awesome people do when they're waiting for someone. At least, in Prussia's mind, that's what they did. And lo and behold, the little brat actually showed up.
"You actually...came to help, didn't you?"
"Finally, a breakthrough." Prussia commented in a sarcastic tone, lifting his eyes to Heaven and folding his hands in mock prayer. "Yes, you stupid kid, I came here to help you. But the only way I can is if you let me. I'm not your family. I'm not your friend. But I'll tell you this, you're not going to get any better than me." Prussia explained. This kid needed to get the picture. Prussia wasn't going to go easy on him. He was going to work him ragged. But in the end, it was all for his own good.
"So, how about it, kid?" Prussia asked, standing up straight with his arms at his side, like a real military officer. "Do you want to keep doing what you've been doing, and live on nothing but a prayer and a dream? Or are you ready to work for it? Are you prepared to give blood, sweat, and tears to make your dreams a reality?" Prussia demanded, a fire burning in his eyes. He wasn't talking to America like a drill sergeant to a fresh recruit. He was speaking to him as a man, a soldier, who had picked and scratched his way to the top, ready to show America how to do the same thing. "Are you ready, Soldier!?" Prussia asked again in a loud, authoritive voice.
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Post by America on Jun 23, 2011 18:30:04 GMT -5
Date: December, 1777
Valley Forge, PennsylvaniaAlfred's eyes narrowed at Prussia's initial and highly-sarcastic reply. Did this guy really need to be such an ass about the whole thing? At least they could agree on one thing: the only reason Alfred was going to listen to Prussia was because he wanted to. And the only reason Alfred was willing to do so was that Prussia was actually putting his resources - or at least some of his military men - where his mouth was.
"So, how about it, kid? Do you want to keep doing what you've been doing, and live on nothing but a prayer and a dream?" [/color] Just because Alfred was young didn't mean he liked the sound of Prussia calling him a kid. Being a kid was like being a colony - someone bossed you and all your people around with no regard for what you wanted to do. "Or are you ready to work for it? Are you prepared to give blood, sweat, and tears to make your dreams a reality?"[/color] Seeing that fire in Prussia's eyes, Alfred...wasn't sure what he was feeling now. There was something in Prussia's gaze now that reached down into his chest, something that appealed to him in a way Alfred was unfamiliar with. Unlike the older nation, his life had been short and relatively peaceful. He hadn't needed to fight for his life before, to claw past other nations for supremacy or even the slightest bit of land to call his own. No, Alfred's life until now had really been downright luxurious compared to some...but now that his back was to the wall, Alfred was finding out that there was something ready to fight inside him, too. Rolling over and submitting quietly to what England wanted...that was not an option. ""Are you ready, Soldier!?"[/color] That authoritative snap jolted Alfred back to reality. In a vague approximation of Prussia's stance, Alfred stiffened himself up until he was standing straight (well, straight er), his musket held tightly in his arms. "Y-Yeah! I mean, uh, yes. ...Sir."[/color] ...Calling Prussia 'sir' was going to take some getting used to, that was certain. And now Alfred could only stand there and wait - and hope that he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his life.[/center]
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Post by Prussia on Jul 4, 2011 5:50:15 GMT -5
"Y-Yeah! I mean, uh, yes. ...Sir."
Prussia narrowed his bright red eyes, and almost hit America upside the head. If he hadn't added a Sir to the end of that, he most certainly would have. This kid had a lot to learn about the chain of command. Prussia, who had been born in the middle of war, couldn't understand a sheltered brat like America, and frankly, he didn't care too. It wasn't his job to learn the kid's life story. His job was to turn the kid into a soldier.
"'Yes Sir' is right. Don't you ever forget it, pissant." Prussia replied. "Shiesse! Speak in our language, I'm getting tired of speaking English, and I doubt you speak German or French." he demanded in Shaykomay. Hell, he doubted the kid could manage Spanish.
"Now, we need to lay down some ground rules, but first - Stand at attention, I'm not showing you how to do it twice! - like I said, first things first. My name is Feldmarschall Gilbert Beilschmidt. You will adress me as Feldmarschall, last name optional, or Sir. You will wake up every morning at six o'clock when you hear a trumpet. If you do not get up, I will come in there and get you, and trust me, you do not want that to happen." Prussia warned, now pacing back and forth infront of America.
"You will have ten minutes to get dressed and make your bedding. At the end of those ten minutes, I will be coming in. You will stop what you are doing, be you fully clothed or ass naked, turn around, and salute with the best damned 'Good Morning, Feldmarschall Beilschmidt' anyone has ever given, and will maintain that position untill I salute you. Afterwords, you will stand at attention while I inspect you and your bedding, and will not speak unless spoken to." Prussia explained.
"The purpose of this excercise is two-fold. Firstly, it will teach you to work fast and efficiently. Secondly, it will teach you more about the relationship between two men of different ranks. Do you understand, soldier?"
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Post by America on Jul 4, 2011 12:33:30 GMT -5
Date: December, 1777
Valley Forge, PennsylvaniaPrussia looked less than thrilled by Alfred's less-than-soldierly response, but the younger nation couldn't really do anything about it: until the war had escalated from an uprising by discontented colonies to a fight for national independence with the signing of the Declaration over a year ago, Alfred's experience of being an soldier was basically nonexistent - aside from what little he'd gotten following some of his militia around and from fighting alongside England. Training then had been nothing like what Prussia promised to put Alfred through now, too...
'Wait,' [/color] Alfred suddenly thought, an unpleasant idea suddenly coming to mind, 'Is it possible that Ar - England did that on purpose? Trained me badly on PURPOSE, just so I couldn't fight him later?'[/color] ...Alfred wasn't quite paranoid enough to accept that idea unquestioningly, but it was a very unnerving idea. Because if that was the case, did that mean England had seen this whole situation coming...? He could think about that later, Prussia was still talking. He'd switched to Shaykomay while Alfred was distracted by his thoughts, which was kind of a relief because it had been really difficult figuring out what he was saying through that thick accent before. "Now, we need to lay down some ground rules, but first - Stand at attention, I'm not showing you how to do it twice! - like I said, first things first. My name is Feldmarschall Gilbert Beilschmidt. You will address me as Feldmarschall, last name optional, or Sir."[/color] Alfred tried not to let his sudden confusion show on his face. Feldmar-something Gilbert Bel-something-something...he'd just heard Prussia saying it and already Alfred wasn't sure how it all went. Why did his name have to be so long, there was no way Alfred would be able to remember it...at least 'sir' was easy to remember, though it still felt really uncomfortable for Alfred to attach that label to the other nation. "You will wake up every morning at six o'clock when you hear a trumpet. If you do not get up, I will come in there and get you, and trust me, you do not want that to happen."[/color] The gleam in Prussia's eyes was all Alfred needed to see to know that he definitely did not want that to happen either. "You will have ten minutes to get dressed and make your bedding. At the end of those ten minutes, I will be coming in. You will stop what you are doing, be you fully clothed or ass naked, turn around, and salute with the best damned 'Good Morning, Feldmarschall Beilschmidt' anyone has ever given, and will maintain that position until I salute you. Afterwords, you will stand at attention while I inspect you and your bedding, and will not speak unless spoken to."[/color] "But I d -[/color] He snapped his jaw shut before any more came out. Alfred winced as he heard the explanation for the whole inspection thing (which sounded kind of pointless otherwise, who cared what a soldier's bed looked like if he was supposed to be outside and fighting anyway?) but there was clearly a larger gap between the Continental Army and what a Prussian army must be like than originally thought. Shifting around in place in sudden, stomach-churning embarrassment (the more Prussia talked, the more horrible Alfred felt about his army - his half-frozen pitiful excuse of an army), Alfred turned his gaze down and away from Prussia's face. "We - We don't...really have...beds. Or...much else,"[/color] Alfred finally admitted. A chill wind swept by then, and on reflex Alfred hugged his blanket closer around himself, shivering and shaking. The little bit of soldierly composure he'd managed to summon up was gone instantly: Alfred finally looked at Prussia directly again, the expression on his face showing exactly what he was thinking now. 'How are you NOT freezing?'[/color][/center]
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