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Post by alphyn on Dec 23, 2010 3:17:39 GMT -5
The Fall of the Former Swiss Confederacy & Helvetic Republic 1790 - 1814 ‘Where is he?!’ Vash thought, pacing back and fourth across the marble tiles of his capitol building in Bern. Green eyes flickered to the gothic window to see the sun lowering closer to the earth. Damnit he was running out of time. But wait… had he even wanted France here? The young Confederacy blinked a few times trying to recall, but only a nagging headache at the back of his mind came as a reward. This was ridiculous. Were all nations like this? Did all the others live in a constant state of thinking one way and then acting out another? Did they forget things so recently as what they had been doing not but 5 minutes ago? “DAMNIT!” The Swiss cursed in an open rage. He brought his hands across his desk, scattering parchment and quills in the like across the floor. Sitting down at the desk, he pressed a hand to his aching forehead. His shoulders shuddered with lightly laboured breathing as Vash tried to keep himself together from another fit coming on. More and more often as of late, the Swiss Confederacy tended to go into these violent tantrums he couldn’t be shaken out of. In the process, he often ended up injuring himself in one way or another, banging into walls spastically or by wielding some potentially dangerous object at the moment. In recent times as well Vash had also become rather lethargic. Whatever time he wasn’t spending having a breakdown, or trying to suppress one, the developing nation spent resting. Vash being Vash though, never liked to show his weakness. So whenever he was feeling weak, or even stressed, Switzerland would often excuse himself to the fields or mountains and rest in solitude. His appetite had vanished, and again it showed, visible in his even more so then usual lean appearance. His skin had tinted an even paler ivory, wherever it wasn’t peppered with bruises and cuts, dark circles teasing under his eyes. “They’d all laugh at me now wouldn’t they?” Vash chuckled to himself thinking of the other nations. France was getting so strong as of late… and Prussia, and Russia, hell… even that man. They’d all become adults, and yet Vash was still a proto-nation, having just earned his country name and human name. He was barely any stronger then one of those damned colonies, yet by far a seniour to them. It was pathetic. Utterly pathetic. No. No! Switzerland wasn’t going to give up. What was this repulsive weakness and self pity? Self pity only got your ass handed to you and your home destroyed. No he wouldn’t give up—whatever this was. He’d win. He’d win… He’d… What was he doing? “Merde dieu! Que diable suis-je? Où est la France? Où est-il? J'ai besoin de lui parler!” Vash screamed again, this time clutching his head as his vision flickered a painful red and white. Dear God… what was becoming of him? < used Fall of the Ancein Régime for reference and as a start point > < Thread is rated R for violence, vulgarity, and probable sexual content >
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Post by France on Dec 25, 2010 2:54:40 GMT -5
France felt genuinely sorry for any country as divided and confused as Switzerland. Not that the cantons were not making his job painfully easy. With their disagreements and lack of unity- not to mention a push in the right direction by France himself- it was child’s play as far as he was concerned. It really was better for dear Vash to have him step in like this and offer some good strong French influence to the situation. Sure it was perhaps a bit underhanded on his part to sit back and allow the revolts to go on and weaken Switzerland, but in the end he figured his guidance and help would make it all worth it.
What Switzerland needed right now, was a good strong does of French influence. And influence was something that Francis loved to spread around any chance he got. Like his boss, he thoroughly enjoyed conquest and obtaining new nations under his rule. It had become an all encompassing passion as of late. Sweep into new areas, conquer them by whatever means possible, and then drown them in heavy French influences. To him it was like acquiring new family members most of the time. Not that he viewed them as physically being related to himself; he realized they were not flesh and blood after all. They were however his responsibility to watch over, kind of like children or colonies in a way.
Riding through the lush Swiss countryside towards Berne, the blonde Frenchman couldn’t help but notice the sun starting to slowly sink in the sky. It was getting late. Far too late for France’s preference. He had meant to be in the capitol building long before nightfall, but delays along the way had ruined that initial plan. He was not about to let the slight disappointment bring his spirits down though. Having a keen eye for beauty he rather enjoyed riding through such green countryside, no matter how late he would end up. With only a few sparse clouds in the sky, and the sun casting such a gorgeous glow to the hilly landscape, the scene looked as though it could have come straight from a painting. He would have to tell Vash how beautiful his lands were once he met up with the young lad. If the Swiss turned out to be in the mood for such chit-chat, which might actually be questionable, given his recent problems.
The prominent Swiss city finally close enough, Francis spurred his piebald horse into a run. The sun had not yet sank all the way, and he only hoped Vash was waiting for him still, despite the delay.
He entered the city at a full gallop, the horse's hooves creating an almost musical sound on the stone streets. Nearly mowing a few idling people over in the process, the French nation made a beeline for the capitol building, not allowing his tired horse a moment of rest until he was almost right up on the building. Pulling his stallion to an abrupt halt, Francis ran a hand through his hair and neatly adjusted his hat before dismounting and making his way towards the door.
“Merde dieu! Que diable suis-je? Où est la France? Où est-il? J'ai besoin de lui parler!”
Judging by the scream from inside, Vash had indeed waited for him. He did not sound happy at all either, and France had to wonder just what state he would find him in this time. With all the revolts, it was bound to not be a pretty picture for sure. Grabbing the heavy wooden door and pulling it open, Francis made his way inside.
“Mon Dieu!” He couldn’t help the words from slipping out at Switzerland's appearance. Vash was paler than usual, skinny as a stick, and looked as though he had been to hell and back with all those cuts and bruises. He had expected him to not look his best of course, but seeing him up close was quite the jarring experience. It almost made him feel bad for playing a part in getting the cantons to revolt.
“Vash, you look simply dreadful.” He stated as though the other was completely oblivious to his own appearance. “What have you been doing to yourself?” He gave the young man a sympathetic look, closing the distance between them as he did so.
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Post by alphyn on Dec 25, 2010 21:33:36 GMT -5
In his confused rage Vash hadn’t even heard the door moving. Being so busy with his own mental battle, the other proto-nation couldn’t even feel France’s presence until the other had spoken out. His blonde head immediately whipped back, catching sight of the other. Frantic green eyes locked on to France in what would probably have been hard to define as simply a shocked or analytical stupor. By this time in his episode, Switzerland had managed himself out of his chair, his hands now fluttering beside his temples as France continued to speak.
“Where the hell have you been?” he replied turning to face the other fully as France neared closer to him, “I waved you—no. Forget it it’s not important,” his manner quickly changed as he stepped to the side, bending down to collect the scattered papers he’d strewn across the floor.
“What have you been doing to yourself?”
“Nothing’s wrong, everything has been fine,” he answered the other’s question, avoiding looking back to Francis as he stated it.
It was utter bullshit though and he knew it; they both did. Nothing was fine in Switzerland’s home and any country could easily see it. He was falling apart by the seams as cantons revolted left and right, some even unifying into their own republics. His home had almost shrunk to nothingness now, and while Vash wouldn’t admit it to anyone he’d occasionally seen parts of his body flickering to a more transparent state over the more recent days.
“What are you here for?” Vash asked then after a few seconds of silence. Looking up to France as he stood, there was not only a difference in Switzerland’s tone as he spoke, but even his eyes had changed from an angry to more clueless expression.
The blonde’s eyes then flashed again with another change in emotion as he jerked his view away from the other with a bit of a jolt. He stepped around Francis running a hand over his wrist in agitation as he headed over to a small silver tray and a pitcher of water. The food had been dropped off by servants earlier for his dinner, but Vash hadn’t been much in the mood for it. No matter.
“Thank you for taking care of Vaud. They were becoming a rather large nuisance. Your men must be tired as well I you. Would you care for a drink?” Vash asked, offering his original glass of water out to Francis.
There was now a small warning bell going off in the back of Switzerland’s mind. Amidst the other quarrels and rushing thoughts within the forefront though, the Swiss nation could barely even notice the slightly unwelcoming presence. Of course it may have had something to do with the fact whenever France came near his home now a part of his home fell apart, but it wasn’t like France was outright attacking him or invading like he had done other countries in his path. No, France was eliminating his enemies, he wasn’t doing anything bad. Why should Switzerland even think about such a thing? The members of the Confederacy would think he was mad.
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Post by France on Dec 26, 2010 18:43:33 GMT -5
Francis found Vash’s change of demeanor a bit disturbing somehow. As far as he was concerned, it just went to show how utterly mixed up the poor thing was. He was really not taking this whole “rioting canton” thing in stride; a fact that was all the more apparent by the collection of scattered papers laying about.
“Nothing’s wrong, everything has been fine.”
Someone was not at all being honest. In other circumstances it might have been a humorous statement to make since it was so obviously false. The boy’s condition though sucked the humor right out of the situation. France watched the Swiss collect his fallen papers quietly. He was never one for extended silences, but for once his elegant wording failed him as he considered the best way to approach the proto-nation about recent events and decisions.
“What are you here for?”
“Aww now Vash, you don’t sound happy to see me. Are you always one to jump straight to business?” Curiously, the boy’s eyes seemed to have changed as well. He genuinely seemed puzzled as to why France was there. Francis raised an eyebrow as he studied Vash over. “You really have no idea why I am here, mon cher?” He merely stared in wonder as Vash moved past him, rubbing at his wrist. It struck him that countries of all ages and types could be such strange creatures. All the more so when they were under a lot of political stress and upheavals. He had been there himself and knew firsthand how incredibly crazed a nation could get under such conditions.
As militaristically domineering as France was, he was still far from being cold hearted. He did feel a wave of sorrow and guilt to see such a beautiful youth in such awful condition. All the more since he had played a part in it. But all that would be fixed once he built dear Vash up the way he thought he should be.
“Thank you for taking care of Vaud. They were becoming a rather large nuisance. Your men must be tired as well as you. Would you care for a drink?”
“Non, you look as though you need it more than I do.” He told Vash gently. “And my men will be fine. They are French after all.” There was a note of pride in his voice, as though he truly thought that Frenchmen required much less rest and care than any other type. As tempting as it was to keep the topic on the greatness of himself and his people, he switched to something more relevant for the situation at hand. “In case you really have forgotten, I came all the way out here to help you, mon cher. Of course I know what has been going on here, and it is my desire to help you gain control over your cantons.”
His eyes briefly shifted to the gothic window, glancing out at the city, which was now bathed in a reddish light from the setting sun. Closing the distance between himself and Switzerland, Francis reached out and grabbed the boy’s chin, tilting his face up slightly. “You do want my help don’t you?” He spoke the words softly, hoping Vash would be quick to accept his “offer of help” and not make things more difficult for him.
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Post by alphyn on Dec 28, 2010 1:28:19 GMT -5
With rejection to his offer, Vash retreated his hand back with the glass of water in it, holding it near his side. The Swiss’ eyes flickered down to the glass as France spoke. The contorted with a bit more confusion and some sparks of skepticism, as he raised them up to meet calm blue eyes starring down at him.
“Help me?” he repeated with a small furrowing of his brows. His eyes widened then and flickered away with what perhaps France could’ve spotted as a sign of embarrassment.
Vash didn’t like being easily read, especially when he was having problems. His cheeks flushed a gentle pink to emphasize this—clashing against his ivory skin. Mentally he began panicking, trying to think up a way to shift the conversation away from him—but, there was the thought of his cantons; those godforsaken bastard cantons. Every time Vash turned his back to go help one and try and bring them back under rule, another revolted. There were so many new republics popping up in his lands Vash had nearly lost count of them all. As much as the Confederacy didn’t want to admit it, France was probably the only one that could help, was willing to help, and the only one that Vash would ever admit he’d want help from.
Eyes now travelling back to his battered hands, Vash thought it over in the small silence. He truly… truly detested showing weakness. Hell, he barked and lectured it to every nation he met. But was there truly any other way out of this? He’d spent nights tossing and turning in his bed listening to screams of displeasure and rage wondering if he’d be opening his eyes at all tomorrow. Switzerland was headed for death… and this was his last chance to keep from fading away like his predecessours.
As France tilted his head up, Switzerland was jolted from his mental breakdown, eyes shooting to a lively green as they were met with calm… controlled blue eyes. Vash wanted that control, to have his life be stable again. He envied those eyes, that calm demeanour—it wasn’t fair. France was brought up on fertile lands, of course he had control, he was so much older then Schweiz as well. Taking this chance, he could learn that control that Francis carried.
However, there was something at the same time that hinted something was wrong in all this. Perhaps it had been the betrayal Vash had received before by the hands of the Hapsburgs? Or maybe perhaps it was the worry he would only be used for his assets like Rome had done. With a swallow of his worries, Vash tried to keep himself as composed and professional as he could manage. Even as he felt his back seize up in preemptive agony, he dismissed it as nerves and pushed on.
“Yes…” he exhaled with a small nod, “I would like that very much.”
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Post by France on Dec 30, 2010 3:01:06 GMT -5
“Help me?”
For a moment the boy seemed almost puzzled by the idea. Carefully examining his features however, Francis saw that what he had originally taken as puzzlement give way to some sort of embarrassment. Or at least, that is what it appeared to be. With such a conflicted and disturbed proto-nation however, it could be harder to tell with certainty.
Vash’s cheeks had flushed slightly, contrasting with his unusually pale complexion. Combined with Switzerland’s youthful appearance, it reminded Francis of those cherubs that featured so often in Italy’s renaissance art. He looked gorgeously innocent, despite the bruises and marks to his face.
France’s blue eyes wandered over the youth’s form as the other seemed to ponder the idea of help. It was always exciting to see young proto-nations mature; watching their chubby young features and limbs change into the delicious, seductive adult forms. People were beautiful in his eyes, but nations and the like were so much more than that. They were simply irresistible. Even when on awful terms with other nations, France was always content to admire their beauty. England, for all his negative points was still a gorgeous man, no matter how pissy and disagreeable he was and how much France viewed him as a bitter rival.
France brought his eyes back up to meet Vash’s, his hand still gently holding the boy’s chin up. He was almost hurt that it was taking the proto-nation so long to consider all he had to offer. Ideally, Vash would have immediately responded without a second thought. Sadly, people and nations alike were so very rarely convinced of Francis’ good intention right off.
“Yes…I would like that very much.”
Francis’ eyes lit up with delight. Things would go so much better with a willing Vash. It was always so much easier to gain control of a place when you had some sort of support. Not that he expected Switzerland's disagreeable population to be as easy to convince of the fact that they needed his help and influence.
“Of course you would. You’re a smart boy, Vash. You know that I can take care of this mess for you.” releasing Vash’s chin, he ran his hand along the boy's cheek affectionately before withdrawing it altogether. “As it is now, your government needs some major improvements. You’re way too feudal and if you just sit back and do nothing you’ll be torn apart by these riots." Francis was not actually sure if things would be as extreme as that, but it certainly made the need for change sound more dire.
“You want to be united and strong, right?” He left out the minor drawbacks that Vash might face for being united under French rule. He was sure the young Swiss must realize that in order to obtain France’s help, he would have to do things France’s way. Even if he did not happen to realize it now as they spoke, he would soon enough.
“I'll take care of your government for you. I can rearrange it and fix you up in no time. You'll be much better off without having to worry about those nasty cantons acting up."
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Post by alphyn on Jan 5, 2011 0:33:01 GMT -5
The minute Switzerland agreed to France’s help he felt a small wave roll over him. Of what sort of feeling it carried though, he couldn’t decipher. His eyes squinted a bit unpleasantly as France gave affection his cheek. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it per say… it just felt sort of childish to him when he was trying to be so grown up around his kin.
“As it is now, your government needs some major improvements. You’re way too feudal and if you just sit back and do nothing you’ll be torn apart by these riots."
His eyes lit up a bright green in rage at the accusation, immediately glaring and retorting in response. How dare he analyze how Switzerland worked, especially when he was an outsider. Neighbour or not, one did not display those type of claims directly in front of someone. Switzerland considered himself far from feudal. He was doing marvelous! …He was. And he certainly didn’t sit back and let everyone have their way. No, he was held together by the union of this land, despite the different heritages and backgrounds of its citizens. Granted, yes, the aristocrats did kind of call shots a lot, but so did the church and that was fine right? That was the way it should’ve been? Maybe? But then again… France was so strong right now. He already helped Switzerland out with so many things… perhaps the other nation was right.
”I am united…” Vash muttered, more to reassure himself now then make a statement. If anything right now, the Swiss ‘nation’ was anything but united, being a battle zone between the church, the Protestants, and the aristocrats.
With France’s full offer out now, Vash’s eyes fell to the floor again as his heart raced in uncertainty. While he’d given France so much control already, despite unpopular vote, being asked to join him like this… completely… would he die?!
”What will you do to my cantons?” he nearly demanded, looking up at France with frantic, pleading eyes. Eyes so terrified of what was becoming of him, looking for that saviour that wouldn’t betray him this time like so many others had. His breath was quick, and his form shuddered lightly a few centimeters away from France.
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Post by France on Jan 7, 2011 17:26:13 GMT -5
Vash must have realized that what France said was the hard truth, because he suddenly looked very upset. Not that France could blame him; he had just found out about the fallacies concerning his government after all. Not exactly something that a country wanted to hear. Still, there was no need for that dark aggression behind his eyes, not while Francis was there to help set things right.
”I am united…”
France stared at the boy with a somewhat stern look. “Vash, when your land is torn apart by fighting between various groups, that is a sign that you are most certainly not united.” His expression softened as it occurred to him that Vash was probably just so desperate for his claim of being united to be true, that he was willing to hold onto it no matter what truth meet his ears. He couldn’t possibly believe what he said, not when the poor health he was in told him differently.
“You seem hesitant now, mon cher.” He noted softly. For a moment he was concerned that Vash was having second thoughts about accepting his offer of help. Then if he wanted to make changes in the other nation’s government he would have to do so by complete force, which was not what he or his boss would have preferred. He was sure that his stepping in on these affairs was going to ruffle the feathers of a good number of Switzerland’s people as it was. He wanted Vash’s personal undying support if he could have it.
”What will you do to my cantons?”
Yes, the cantons… One of the main troubles that he saw with Switzerland right now. They would need to lose their individuality and power for the better of the country. His calm blue eyes locked with Vash’s desperate gaze as he considered how to answer the question.
“The cantons hold too much power right now. They will of course need to lose that.” He considered the nation before him. It really was much more complex than what France was making it out to be. They needed an entire overhaul of their confederation. A dangerous thing for a country, although not necessarily fatal. As much as he wanted to control Vash, he did not want him dead. Some would say he held an inappropriate fondness for the youth.
France moved away from Switzerland, walking over to the desk and pulling out the chair that sat behind it. “Come, sit.” He gestured towards the chair hopefully. “We have much to discuss. You should probably eat something too mon cher. You look dreadful.” His eyes shifted to the nearby tray, that appeared as though it had all but been ignored since someone had brought it in.
“Before I go on about the cantons and what else I think we need to do, know that I would never allow anything bad to happen to you. No matter what we decide to do with your cantons, I assure you that you will be safe in my hands.” That sounded nice and assuring to Francis. He only hoped it did to Vash as well.
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Post by alphyn on Jan 15, 2011 22:26:22 GMT -5
Hearing France claim Switzerland wasn’t untied, even if he had all the evidence, still sent the young proto-nation into mini-tantrum. The young blonde glared menacingly throwing his arms back violently as he stepped away from France. His hands hovered around frantically as if trying to find something they could transmit their frustration and anger into. It was only when Switzerland’s cantons were brought up his raging mind was sent back to reality, shooting a look up at France. Wide emerald orbs clashed with the cool sapphire from Francis.
When Francis had exclaimed the cantons had too much power, the Swiss nation’s bro furrowed skeptically at the thought. His cantons had always had absolute sovereignty. Each was practically its own nation when it came to governing people. And then it hit, that perhaps… that was a problem. Of course, it hadn’t really been as large of a problem in the past until the church got involved. Vash had his name bearer to thank for that.
“Come, sit.” France had gestured before him.
Switzerland eyed the chair and small table near his visitour before heading over. Switzerland’s eyes followed to the tray, lingered a moment then, before he shook his head negatively, returning to meet Francis’ gaze.
”I’m not much in the mood for anything to eat, pardon my manners,” he muttered softly. If Switzerland’s people went hungry, so did he. He wouldn’t indulge like other nations he knew.
Switzerland’s attention was again, brought back from its dream walking state of empathizing with his people at the sound of France’s voice. He noticed he’d even managed to lower his head a bit, almost as if he were falling asleep. What a blessing that would be; but alas… there was business to attend to, always was, always will be.
”I’m not worried about my health France,” Vash interjected, ”I’m worried about the wellbeing and protection of my people, nothing more. Whatever you have to say, or plan to do I’ll do it for them. I’m not worried about myself.”
Switzerland had always been one to place others before him. Even if he found himself often regretful in the end, it was an urge he couldn’t control. Ever humanitarian aid the young proto-nation had helped other countries numerous times in the past; notably one, but that bridge was well destroyed. Hell he’d even served as a mercenary just so his people wouldn’t go hungry at night. Risking his own life, he had both entered and broken away from the Holy Roman Empire to the will of his people. The only thing that really frustrated Vash this time around, is that when his people needed him once more, there was nothing he could do. Cantons at war with each other, famine, coups, what could a nation do when he really… when he really wasn’t united.
Vash took in a heavy sigh, shifting in his chair a bit as he brought his hand over his other wrist, closing his eyes.
”France… whatever we need to do… it needs to be done fast,” There was a small moment of silence that passed as the Swiss nation released his hold on his hand and lifted it gently to the air examining it with a rare expression ever displayed on the other’s face; hopelessness.
”Recently my hands have gotten a bit… transparent.”
< ftr, my headcanon would state that France has an inappropriate fondness for anything xD >
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Post by France on Jan 18, 2011 3:56:13 GMT -5
“I’m not worried about my health France.”
France looked to the seated country curiously, as Vash continued on with his noble concerns for his people. Being what they were, it was only natural that they should care for their people more than themselves. After all, if it were not for their people, they would never exist. It was a sticky situation though because a nation’s well being could positively or negatively affect their people, just as their people affected them.
“Of course you are worried about your people. It’s only natural.” The French nation leaned against Vash’s hardwood desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “But taking care of yourself will no doubt help them, non?”
He watched the young man shift in his chair, taking in just how worn out and upset the Swiss appeared. He looked like he had been to Hell and back, both physically and mentally. He really needed rest and a proper meal, not a depressing discussion on cantonal sovereignty and how it needed to be abolished. Staring at the proto-nation, he really did feel sorry for him and wanted to help as quickly as possible.
”France… whatever we need to do… it needs to be done fast.”
Francis watched in silence as Vash lifted his hand in the air and gave it the most heart breaking look France had seen in a long time. He was staring at his hand as though utterly lost and hopeless. It was puzzling to Francis at first. Was there something wrong with the boy's hand? He strained his eyes to see for a moment, taking in the sight of what looked to him like a perfectly normal, healthy hand. Was Switzerland perhaps hallucinating? Seeing things as being wrong with his hand when in fact nothing was? Things must have been really bad for the proto-nation if his problems had gotten to the point where he was having hallucinations.
”Recently my hands have gotten a bit… transparent.”
France’s eyes widened slightly at the remark, a glint of fear shining from their blue depths. Transparent? That was never a good sign for nation or proto-nation alike. The sadly spoken statement was a stark reminder of just how messed up poor Switzerland really was.
“Mon dieu.” The Frenchman whispered softly; gazing at Vash’s hand as though it might vanish right before his eyes. “How long have you had this…problem, mon cher?” Judging by the look on Vash’s handsomely young face, France noted that the proto-nation must have realized that limbs vanishing really was as bad as it sounded. “Not that it matters. We’ll fix your transparency problem and all will be well.” Reaching out, Francis grabbed a hold of the hand and -leaning slightly- brought it to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss.
“You look tired, Vash. Perhaps you should get some rest and just let me take care of things for you?”
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Post by alphyn on Jan 20, 2011 23:10:57 GMT -5
”It simply wouldn’t feel right if I were to eat like a noble while the majourity went without so much as bread on their table,” Vash concluded in regards to the food.
Switzerland remained silent as he felt France’s eyes examine over his hand from afar. He felt a bit self conscious about the ordeal to say the least, but from France’s position the other nation probably couldn’t see much anything as Vash then lowered his hand down again to rest placid in his lap.
”It’s only started up more recently,” The Swiss muttered quietly. He didn’t want his superiours overhearing, there was already enough chaos going on. France’s next remark though caught his attention making the blonde flash curious green eyes over to his neighbour. A light rose then stained his cheeks as France gave his warring hand affection, rendering the proto-nation speechless for a moment. His lip quivered slightly, perhaps trying to coax out some sort of thought before his voice finally then caught up. Vash ripped his hand away from the other, tucking it between his legs, blush darkening and his brows furrowing in embarrassment and anger.
”What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he barked back, ”I’m not a girl damnit! Doing that sort of thing isn’t proper!” Even if such things actually were, it was true one only kissed the hand of a lady—never a man. It didn’t help the matter with Vash’s particular self-consciousness of his body right now, being in such a disorientated state. Switzerland starred at France a moment longer with a flustered expression, the corner of his lip being bitten down in protest as he fought the others ever calm and sometimes alluring presence.
“You look tired, Vash. Perhaps you should get some rest and just let me take care of things for you?”
He blinked a few times, processing the advice. A rest would be… so nice after numerous sleepless nights, but there was also business to be done. A few moments of mental deliberation and Switzerland declined again with a gentle, negative shake of his head.
”We need to get this taken care of first. Then I can rest,” the Swiss replied, ever professional. He brought his young eyes up to France again, slowly sliding his hands out into a more relaxed and open posture. His blush was barely present now, other then a soft baby pink residing on the corner of his cheeks. ”How do you—“ The blonde then let out an uncontrolled yawn, shaking his head and excusing himself. He felt so tired all of a sudden. He blamed France mentally for being so persistent with wishes of rest and food. ”How do you plan on going about refocusing the power of my cantons?” he asked again, his eyelids a bit lowered.
< kind of mentally picture Vash falling asleep as a sign of him allowing France the freedom to invade the capitol, for they kind of had their backs turned to the whole incident and were caught by surprise, but really did nothing about it to stop it. IDK if you have another idea or so. >
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Post by France on Jan 25, 2011 18:50:04 GMT -5
Vash’s reaction to having his hand kissed had greatly amused France. The poor thing didn’t understand affection at all if he believed that such actions were limited by something so unimportant as gender. It was true that traditionally it was shown that gentlemen only kissed the hands of beautiful young women, so France had mildly understood Vash’s blushing furry in that regard. As far as France was concerned however, traditions and gender were so very meaningless when it came to love and affections. Switzerland would learn this eventually. How could he not, after all? There were so many beautiful people in the world of both genders, surely he would not want to limit himself as many humans did?
His Swiss companion was quiet for a few moments after France’s advice. Francis hoped he would simply agree to get some rest and let him handle things. Straightening out another nation’s government was always so much easier when they were not present to object to anything France might deem necessary. Rarely did other nations know what was good for them.
”We need to get this taken care of first. Then I can rest.”
France inwardly sighed at the statement. Such a professional, despite his youthful appearance. It was both admirable and inconvenient at the same time. And Vash looked so very tired, surely the youthful proto-nation would do better to get some sleep and then have Francis explain what he had done for him after it had already been set in motion.
”How do you plan on going about refocusing the power of my cantons?”
“First thing is first, in order to make you a strong country, we need to do away with cantonal sovereignty completely. It may seem like a large step to you, mon cher, but I assure you that it is for the best. We’ll centralize your government, of course.” He considered for a moment what else his boss had eluded to when he had spoken to him about the Switzerland situation. Things still needed to be discussed and figured out; uniting people under a new republic was never an easy and straightforward task.
Moving away from the desk where Switzerland was seated, the blonde Frenchman wandered aimlessly over by the tray and water pitcher; considering what else needed to be done. “You should have equal Swiss citizenship for all your people as well. No more of this “cantonal citizenship” system that you have going on.” With systems like that, it was no wonder that there was a lack of unity in Switzerland’s borders.
“Sound good so far, Vash?” He asked hopefully, without glancing to Switzerland to see if he was even paying attention. ________________________ ((Short post is short, I apologize for that, and the long wait. And your ideas always sound good to me. ~))
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Post by alphyn on Jan 29, 2011 0:20:00 GMT -5
“First thing is first, in order to make you a strong country, we need to do away with cantonal sovereignty completely.”
Francis may as well not have said anything after that, for Vash completely discarded it. Eyes shot wide open as he looked to his neighbour in shock. Do away with his canton’s sovereignty? Their power was the reason he was alive at all—less he be consumed by powers anonymous. And now France was suggesting he be rid of that? His very foundation? Had the other blonde gone mad?! Green eyes followed France as the other strode nonchalantly towards the dinner tray. Switzerland’s gaze did a sort of double vision for a moment, making the boy scrunch his eyes shut and shake his head to refocus.
”You know… even if I agree to this, my cantons won’t,” Vash replied giving Francis a half-hearted frown. His cantons were so independent despite being unified. The scars left on his arm from Zürich ached at the memory.
The mention of ’Swiss Citezenship’ had him thinking though. Never before had his people really been together as a unit under one general term except for his mercenaries, which were slowly dying off now. Vash always had so many different names depending on where he was, whom he was speaking with, to which side they were allied. The thought of one general government did appeal to him… but… the cantons deserved their independence. There was no way a proto-nation so young as he could possibly serve everyone’s interests within his power alone. No the cantons still had rights to their people—his land was too diverse, its people too diverse to be governed as one whole.
Vash watched Francis with a cold glare. It was like the other was mocking him with that last statement. Yes… his government wasn’t great, but his cantons were not—no.
Vash rested his head in his hands again as he felt another headache surge forward from the back of his head. Letting out a small his he could feel his vision blur, even without opening his eyes. He felt a small rise of nausea in his system, and this… indescribable weakness. It was as if a part of his body had just ceased working and broken down. Something had died—no, something had collapsed. Being so tapped into his land (as nations always were) Vash could pinpoint the location as well. Bern. Where he was right now. Slowly, the young proto-nation lifted his head up, vision swimming as he tried to focus an icy glare on France.
”France…” he nearly hissed in a low, menacing voice. Switzerland’s breath slowly descended to something heavy and laboured, as his vision began to narrow and darken, “Where are your men… right now?”
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Post by France on Jan 30, 2011 21:34:18 GMT -5
”You know… even if I agree to this, my cantons won’t.”
France turned and stared at the nation for a moment, keeping his generally upbeat expression despite the comment. Of course the Cantons would not appreciate such an act. He had suspected as much; after all, their independence and power was at stake. And yet Francis had faith that they could overcome this inconvenience. Vash should hold power over them anyways, they were a part of him, weren’t they? And what he suggested they do would surely rein them in under Vash’s power more completely.
The glare on Switzerland’s face was a sign to France that the young proto-nation must not have thought it sounded too good. Damn. And here he was trying his best to sugar coat the idea and force the lad to look at things in a better light. No matter, he was determined that he would convince the other of his good, helpful intentions.
“Vash, your cantons are a part of you, are they not? You should have control of yourself, non? Of course they won’t agree at first. But after this is enacted, they will get used to it, and it really will be for the better.” His smile slipped as he watched Vash rest his head in his hands, a look of discomfort on his handsomely youthful face.
”France…”
The French nation studied the youth over cautiously, not at all liking the lower tone of voice. “Oui, mon cher?” Even from his position over by the water pitcher, he could hear the heavier breaths coming from the Swiss. Something in the back of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed nation’s mind was telling him that their little encounter was about to take a turn for the worse.
“Where are your men… right now?”
Francis was silent for a few moments, trying to figure out what to say in response. “No need to worry about them, Vash. What they are doing is not important at the moment.” He finally tried. He should have known that Vash would realize when they started to claim the city. Nations were so connected to their land and people, he would certainly notice if a large group of foreigners were starting to overtake Paris. Best not to out and out lie to the youth though, no matter how upset he suspicioned that the other would be when he found out what was really at play in his capital city. Surely trying to distract him away from what was going on outside was the best course of action.
“What of the most importance is what we’re discussing here, not what they are doing out there. My men are merely securing the city so that we can arrange for these positive changes to take place."
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Post by alphyn on Feb 7, 2011 2:11:24 GMT -5
Bullshit. Vash could feel damn well what was going on. His head was pounding and his entire body felt as if it was disconnecting and fading away. Secretively, the Swiss gave a worried glance to his hands, finding to his horrour their opacity was about at half.
‘Securing the City’… no. No. Bern was under siege. HIS capitol under siege by the nation he trusted the absolute most at this point. The nation he’d openly let into his home and lowered his guard around, served and defended whenever called upon. And now that same nation was ending him. Vash could feel a horrific unworldly scream tear through his body, and make his form go rigid. Never in his life had the Helvetian heard something like that before. It rung in his ears until he felt they’d bleed, but looking to Francis out of the corner of his eye, the other looked… undaunted. Could only Vash hear it? Feel this? It tore through every cell of his body, feeling as if it ruptured and broke free, as if he scattered. Was Vash fading away? Terrour swarmed through his agonizing head like a hoard of wasps clouding his mind over as his vision began to swirl. He could still see France though, still barely feel the wooden surface of the table under his transparent state. A trickle of something warm slithered down the corner of his lips. Little did the Swiss no at the time it was blood, dripping onto his tunic, signaling his end with each drop.
To the outside world though, Vash would’ve looked surprisingly normal, yet as if he was in some sort of daze. He wasn’t seizing up in indescribable pain as he felt himself doing, wasn’t fading away as he feared he truly was. It was simply as if the Swiss had fallen asleep with his eyes open. His pupils were dialated slightly and his mouth hung ajar, just a wee bit. His breathing was faint, but there. After a few seconds the tell-all crimson then welled up inside his mouth, dripping out to the side and onto his shirt. Vash’s mouth attempted to open a bit wider as his eyes slowly began rolling to the back of his head. His vision whipping around like it was on a spiritual high, blinding with light until he felt blinded in darkness. Was up truly down? Was left, in fact, right? Was seeing agonizing white blindness? Or was it death? Vash could only conjure one word to describe everything flowing through him, not even sure if what he had thought had presented itself in the physical world.
”Asshole…” he hissed through bleeding lips, before his head jerked to the side and collided with unnatural force onto the surface of the table.
Ironically… this was the same exact moment the capitol of Bern, and the Aristocratic strong hold of the Ancein Regimé of the Old Swiss Confederacy fell. This once budding country now belonged to the mighty French Empire.
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