The Sentiment's the Same, My Friend [England]

[usa]

<sub>"Good God, what’s got into you all?
What in Hell do you mean by deserting now the great principles of our fathers;
by returning to the vomit of that dog Great Britain?
What do you mean by asserting now principles against which
every Adams yet has protested and resisted?
You’re mad, all of you."
- Henry Adams to his brother, 1861</sub>

December, 1861
The Trent Affair

There was a knock on the door.

"Pardon me sir, but the President requires your presence."

"Which?" He said as if the comment had frustrated him. None of this made the least bit of sense anymore and it was only a few months into the war.

"... President Lincoln, sir."

"Damn Yankee..." He muttered as he laughed slightly. With a small shake of the head he replied. "Fine I will report to him as soon as I can." The desire to see him wasn't that great. "So ya'll should best piss off--!" He coughed to excuse himself. "Just go."

     The desire to see anyone had not been great since the war started. There was no point. All the blond would do would be to snap at everyone and possibly cause harm. He was ill, tired, and quite frankly his head was quite loose on his shoulders. Any mention of the war and he would lash out like a wounded animal. Neither Davis or Lincoln planned to back down from this, no matter how much he wanted it to end. Bastards they were. He understood why both were doing what they did, but at the same time Alfred was clinging on to the last shreds of unity the nation had left. He was not ever going to let go no matter how much his people may fight.

     Now there was another issue. An issue involving a certain nation across the pond. He was in no mood to be dealing with whatever Europe wanted to bitch about. Alfred had heard of the capture. Quite frankly, he was a bit happy about it. The traitors were finally in their hands and Wilkes was now being honored for his efforts. It wasn't long until he got the negative letters from Britain, and now it was becoming annoying.

     Standing from his desk, a sigh escaped his lips and walked towards his closet where he fumbled through clothing. He pulled out a frock coat along with a white linen shirt and matching pants. Fashion, he had noticed, was putting more emphasis on simplicity rather than complexity. Shedding what he previously had on, he quickly replaced it with the outfit he had picked out and stood in front of a mirror as he began to tie a black cravat around his neck.

"I guess I should feel honored..." He mused to himself. "I'm back to having to deal with that "ol' chap" again. He can never leave me alone." He paused slightly as he straightened the large bow around his neck. "Isn't that right?" He stared at the mirror and a small smile spread across his lips. "It's just a way to get what someone wants, after all...~"

     Blue eyes narrowed as he promptly before he grabbed an inkwell from his desk and threw it at the mirror. The glass shattered and the mirror cracked and chipped. A new mess had formed as ink dripped down from the mirror with glass and ink staining the floor. Dammit. With a deep huff he made his way out the door and into a carriage where he was taken to the White House. The man was freaking lucky he felt at least well enough to actually agree to go.

     After he arrived, he walked to the elderly man's office to find the man present him with a letter without so much as a hello. Not that it really bothered him, but he scowled a bit. Nothing was said as he read through the letter quickly, but afterwards he manged to become angry enough to quickly crumple it and throw it into the burning fireplace. He watched it shrivel up and become ash, though his gaze returned to the tall man, who seemed frustrated with the whole event with England.

"Don't release the traitors." He said sharply.

"I do not wish to, but if we want to avoid war we must--"

"They need to learn how to stay out of our business! I dare them to declare war!" Actually, that was the very last thing he wanted. "In fact, I will handle some of this. Just... do whatever you were doing."

     Perhaps he had stepped out of line for almost commanding his President, though he didn't care. Lincoln made nothing of it as he watched the youth walk out. he sighed in understanding. Everything was becoming too much to handle very fast.

Walking out the door, he proceeded to one of the smaller offices he personally used whenever he was working within the luxurious building. Officials and personnel that walked past stopped as they saw the young man walk by as he hadn't been seen on the grounds for quite a while. Alfred seated himself and fumbled around for a free sheet of paper, as well as a fountain pen. This had gone a bit too far.

To Arthur Kirkland,

     It seems as though we're both willing to use force to get what we want. By any circumstance there was every right for our officers to have boarded the Trent and capture the two "diplomats".

     It's hardly a matter of honor, rather, not a matter you should be totally concerned with. My President may have said that he did not want any trouble, but this will not be got along with until you and your people back down from this, or at least settle down. Once this is worked out, then perhaps we may not have to raise arms. Until then, I suggest you watch what you demand from us.

     We are no longer entitled to abide by your demands. You seem to have forgotten this, but if we must we will surely remind you. The Union officer's actions were justified, as they are contraband that just happened to be aboard a ship under your name.

     Back off.

Alfred F. Jones.

     He enclosed the letter, he passed it on to a secretary who sent the letter out. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

     A third war with Britain while in civil war. Oh how fun that would be. America had not thought of another war with England, especially while in a crisis, but of course he would have to act if such a declaration was issued. Waiting for a response was all the more fun.

[/color][/font][/blockquote]

---

• "Which?"- In reference to Jefferson Davis, who was president of the Confederate States of America, and Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States of America.
  
• Wilkes- Charles Wilkes, the captain who captured the Confederate diplomats James Mason and John Slidell.
  
• "circumstance"- By anything to speak off. It was popular to use in that context back then, not so much now.
  
• The Trent was a British mail carrier that the confederates just happened to be on. The fact they were on at all was to try and spark a conflict between the Union and England.
  
• Color coded for your convenience- Blue speech happens to be the "Union" side of his mind speaking, the red is the Confederate side YEAH.
  
• Purposely ignored a proper letter format. To be honest I wouldn't be in the mood to be writing letters properly myself if I was in that position/mood. ;
  
• "Yankee"- Not just a term to refer to Americans in general. It was used by the South to address Northerners, mainly in a disrespectful way. Still used in that context today. because for some reason both regions still haven't totally moved on from that...
  

[albion]

December 17th 1816 wtfwentbackintime 1861

This had been going on for too long, and frankly he was pissed off to say the least. There did seem to be some hope however, and this thankfully took the form of a letter from the 'Union'. “So,” he began, scanning the note once more. “It seems Bright was correct. He did indeed act without order.” Did this change anything? Well right now he wasn't so sure. It was true that they new had some evidential proof that this was perhaps simply a mistake, but that didn't overly cushion the whole thing from escalating. Right now the only thing that could do such a thing would be an apology and release. He knew full well that no less would be acceptable, and thus he could only watch in an exasperated acceptance as his people once more prepared for a war with the Americas. “What would you propose we do?” Was the final comment as he handed back the letter.

“I would suggest... that until our honour is restored to us we continue to ready ourselves. We cannot sit idly around whilst those fool presume to take us so lightly. We cannot stand for such an outrage, and nor shall we!”

With a nod England looked out the window of the 10th, watching without much regard as the skies over London held that oh so cliché grey overcast. “Indeed,” was the simple response.

“Tell me, what do you think that we should do? You know those people better than I.”

England could only snort, looking back to his prime minister. “I know nought of the the people, rather, I used to know the nation for what he once was. They're as unpredictable to I as they are to you.” With a sigh he shook his head, folding his right leg neatly over his left. “However, I'd be inclined to agree with your notion. They've gone too far this time.” Scowling he let his eyes wander back to the window, narrowing them slightly at something unforeseen. “We declared ourselves neutral, and one more of their confederate dogs was not going to sway the mind of a nation with for more about it than they could ever hope to muster. If I must say so, I find this whole thing to be an utterly immature gesture from our American 'friends'. We cannot allow for them to mock us further. They've done enough against this people already.” With a firm nod he folded his arms across his chest. In honesty he didn't want a war. He didn't want to have to meet with those people on the battle field again, and as such he'd have been more than happy to step back if only they would comply with the demands that had been issued.

“I see,” stated Palmerston. “Very well, I'll let you be on your way then for the time being.” As England nodded and stood the gent lifted a hand, stopping him from leaving. “Before you leave though, this arrived for you.” With that he pulled an envelope out, handing it to the island nation. “It arrived from America... I trust your response to it, if you deem to give one, will be befitting of the situation at hand.” The message was clear enough to England; 'Don't do anything moronic such telling them to go fuck themselves, or some other such insult'. It was insulting in some ways, and yet amusing in so many others.

With a bitter laugh the letter was folded into his breast pocket. “Of course. I'd never dream of giving anything but an appropriate response. We are a nation of eloquence after all, no?” On the surface perhaps, but past that the nation itself was as savage as ever.

“Yes, quite. Now if you please, I've matters that need my attention.”

Giving a final nod England quickly left, leaving the building and catching his ride. With a sigh he pulled out the envelope once more, deciding not to make too big of a deal at the driver's poor ability to avoid every fucking pothole he seemed to come across.

Tearing the thing open he carefully pulled out the slip, unfolding it to catch sight of an all too familiar scrawl. Alfred. He'd honestly wondered how long it would be before the other started trying to bang his door down and demand he stop, he was frankly impressed it took the fool this long. Shaking his head of such thoughts he cast his eyes to what he would very simply describe as chicken scratch, it had so obviously been rushed. Ugh.

The context itself wasn't at all much better, and indeed he found it painfully annoying how bloody obnoxious the other could be. He called himself an adult, and yet at the end of the day he was acting like a daft twat who'd just gotten out of primary school. The fact he dare to order England around (England of all people! Fuck sake, did the fool really not know any better than to do such a thing? He thought it clear that he wouldn't back down to the boy's demands or wants. Obviously that message needed to be hammered in more) was outrageous.

Indeed, as he came to a stop he was out of the vehicle faster than the driver quite recognised, already slamming the door to his home and tossing the brief case to the side. The nerve of it! He was not the one in the wrong here, and yet the bastard presumed himself rightful to pin the fault on England. Tsk, the boy really had become a total hick in the time he'd been 'independent'.

Pulling out the decanter of brandy he promptly poured a glass, marching to his office shortly after. He'd not take this lying down, and had he been expected to then the other was in for a very rude awakening. Still, England knew well enough Palmerston would probably try to string him up if he was too colourful in his selection of language... There were other ways to display discontent though, and England really was a master of discontent.

Seating himself at his desk he took a swig of the brandy, pulling out a pen and paper shortly after. No doubt he'd find himself further into the alcohol later, it had already sized itself up as being 'one of those nights'. However, right now clarity was needed. It'd be a terrible waste of ink if his neat calligraphy was destroyed due to recklessly sating his desire for a muzzy unknowing.

“To whom this may concern,

You seem to have lost all sense of manners. It's customary to begin a letter by asking in regards to the recipient. I see though that your lack of civility may present a problem for such, and thus I'll refrain from dallying about the point in a way which may perhaps confound your limited mental ability.

I find this whole notion to be rather amusing, boy. You are so audaciously presuming to order my actions to fit with your desires, when in the end it is you who is the one in the wrong.

You have violated my terms of neutrality, boarding one of my ships. You are the one who has caused this problem, not I. Do not presume to act in such a way that incriminates I in this current state of affair, because frankly you are the catalyst in this whole event. My people had thus far done nothing to instigate such a hostile act, whilst you have taken it upon yourselves to take matters into your own hands. Matters, which I may add, had nought to do with you.

I find it particularly laughable that you demand we 'settle down'. Those words very much seem to mimic ones I once offered, and indeed they fell upon deaf ears then. I've no inclination to do as you order me to, and nor will I ever lower myself to concede to you.

My people are in outrage, Alfred. You have once more taken it upon yourself to sully my flag, along with my name. You know our demands, and unless the diplomats are released there will be dire consequences. Make no mistake, I've no particular desire to once more find myself wasting my time in another petty tantrum that you would dub a war. However, should such a need arise I will gladly find myself upon the fore front of the battle line, and I pray you to be sure of something. This time a treaty will not resolve the issue, and nor will you find me willing to relent to you.

I suggest very strongly that you consider who it is exactly that you threaten. You cannot afford to find yourself with me as your opponent. Such a thing would remove my stance on neutrality, and I've little doubt that such a thing would only strengthen the arguments of those in my court who wish to see you divided. Right now your threats are perhaps as empty as your head seems to be, and so I issue this for the second time in this letter to you.

Let them go.

By this point I'm well aware that your captain acted without order, and thus perhaps something can at least be salvaged from this mess. Although, knowing you I've little doubt that you've condoned his actions. My people are more than willing to quell this now before escalation; however, you yourself must show some degree of maturity on the matter (as hard as this may or may not be for you) and sacrifice something that was never yours to take.

We find ourselves somewhat hopeful that with this new news you've given us that some sort of middle ground can be met, and indeed it can. Provided our two demands are met we'll take no further action against you, and all preparations for war will be disengaged.

The result of this is in your hands, Alfred. I would suggest that for once you truly think about what it is you plan to do.

With regards
Sir Arthur Kirkland”

With a huff he blew gently on the paper, drying the ink before neatly folding the message to slide it into the envelope.

Finishing the rest of the brandy he stood, leaving the sealed letter at rest upon his desk. Tomorrow he would have it sent, but for now... For now he had better things to do.

-----

- This thread is going to be letter based. I'm not particularly sure if Arthur & Alfred are liable to meet during this thread, but it's unlikely XD As such posts ain't gonna be OMFGHUGE, which is why we have another thread going =w=
- “It seems Bright was correct.” Bright actually argued that the Americans had not ordered such a thing from the get go. Smart guy~
- “By this point I'm well aware that your captain acted without order.” Wilkes actually acted without order, and the British found out about this on the 17th of December
- “window of the 10th” Ten downing street
- Yes, I'm very aware that putting to 'who this may concern' and 'with regards' is not appropriate letter formation in this context. This is a DELIBERATE mistake on Arthur's part <3
- "Sir Arthur Kirkland" He used to be a knight, soooo XD Thatandhe'sbeingpassiveaggressive

- Ani, I'm an ass. I wrote this as if Al's lettered arrived with the note that Wilkes had acted without order... Meaning it would have been sent on something like the 24th of November -forget the exact date ;~;- please don't shoot me ;A; /will change it if you need |D

[usa]

      He was writing with a bad hand (that's what happens when you punched glass) and had been for a few days, but he didn't care. His main concern was getting this done and over with, but with everything that wasn't going to happen too easily.

"After this letter, I want all of them redirected here, understand?" He had feeling that very soon, he was wasn't to be going out much at all.

To Arthur Kirkland,

      I do not recall asking you for critique on grammar, but I must also say that your own manners have seemed to have slipped a bit. You may write like a gentleman, but your substance does not accurately portray one.

      Naught to do with me? I find it amusing that you presume such. Such actions were necessary. It was never intentional to have aggravated your people, let alone start something to this scale, but it seems you have seemed to overreacted to the whole event.

      ... That was a completely different matter.

     You simply believe that such an action was a hostile act towards your nation. It was not so much that, but it was more of an action that just happened to take place on your ship. While Wilkes' actions were questionable in terms of legality, the fact stands that such acts were not completely hostile. We must keep the prisoners as a matter of honor, just as you want them released for the sake of your own. I believe we're at a draw.

     Yes well you seem to be provoking such actions. If such an event should occur, we will not be intimidated by threatening words. You seem to be a bit on the arrogant side, seeming to be able to get what you want so easily. I will not allow for such an instance to occur again. You do not need to worry; we will be ready to fight you till the end should we raise arms.

     I have faith that is exactly what your nation wants in the long run. Your people seem a bit impatient with waiting for that to happen.

If anything it was the ship that was not ours to take, but the "diplomats", of course, were.

I will not meet the demands of anyone just yet.

Sincerely,
Alfred Jones

---

• We thought we could go toe to toe with Britain while the civil war was going on should war have broken out, just to prove ourselves as strong during that time period. Since war never did break out, we'll never know 8I
  
• " I have faith that is exactly what your nation wants in the long run."- We also really, really thought England was out for us and that they were waiting for our destruction. There was almost no doubt in some politician's minds this was the case.
  

[albion]

December 31st 1861

New year's eve. Usually it would be customary to be at a party for such a thing, yet no. Instead he found himself metaphorically tied to his desk, and all over a letter he'd received that afternoon.

It was funny really, America had the innate ability to ruin his day without even being there.

“To whom this may concern,

My manners are alas perfectly adequate for dealing with a roughian such as yourself. You will find in life that there are many kinds of gentlemen, Alfred. The very fact I am not banging upon your door to make my demands is proof enough that I am such. Do not presume to know me so freely.

Overreaction? Hardly. Your people have done little but tarnish us in these past years, and this is simply another case of that. You should know well enough that if you load too much upon anything eventually it will snap, and alas my nation finds itself very close to its snap. Such a thing would be unpleasant, and indeed I find myself with far better things to do. However, continue on at this rate and there will be no tears shed upon the matter.

This is no draw though. There will be no way to avoid further conflict unless one of us is to back down, and that will not be myself. There are two ways in which this can end; their release, or war. I know which I would rather take.

Indeed though, perhaps it is a different matter. However the message I gave was relevant enough. You're being a hypocrite of the highest sense, and I'm perhaps not so sure you've yet to understand this. You need to grasp that you cannot simply do as you please without consequence, and at this moment of time I perfectly believe this is something that you are missing.

I know full well what the action was, you seem to forget that I've dealt with matters such as this priorly. However, this does not excuse the fact that it was my ship, and not that of the confederation. I frankly do not care who was on it, and nor is it a matter I wish to concern myself with. In the end though, regardless of your initial intent, it was a hostile act. Whether this was the sole intent was not the point. The point was that this has proven that you're evidently willing to cause problems once more, even after a treaty was made to avoid such a thing.

You seem to have misunderstood me. I've no need to rely simply upon pretty words to get what I want. My aim has not been to intimidate you, I'd much rather let my men do that should the need arise. You seem to be under the misguided impression that you'd be able to contend with I and your civil war, so let me put this as simply as possible for you lest you misunderstand.

You cannot.

I know full well the impacts of wars such as these, and thus I know that neither you nor your people will be in a fit condition should we meet upon the indicated circumstances. You have little chance of holding my back whilst you destroy yourself from the inside, so I would hope that you consider this before you try to use words far too large for you. If indeed you do wish to 'fight me to the end' then I'll accept such a proposition. Though know that the end would come swiftly for you, for I lie to you not when I say that this times I will have no reservations in putting an end to this conflict.

Also, you seem to be under the severely misguided assumption that my people are hankering for war. We are not. Had we wanted such we would have struck already, you are in an ideal state for us to do so. Indeed, you have also proved to give us the perfect reason to. Please bear this in mind before you presume to tell me that we're 'impatient' to fight you. As of the moment we are simply making preparations to do so, preparations caused by your actions. We are full justified in what we are doing.

It is true that many of my people believe your divide is inevitable, and it is this group that you are currently strengthening. They only need the slightest push before those here that support you are no longer strong enough to continue doing so.

When all is said and done I hardly care what right you think you had, your actions were illegal. Indeed, I already have French backing upon the matter. You have little hope of finding yourself to be the one at an advantage here, and thus it would be far easier for yourself if you were to simply apologise and release them. These demands are perfectly reasonable, and far less than we could potentially be requesting for such a criminal act.

Swallow your pride and do as we ask. This is all we want. Do this and the issue will be resolved.

Regards
Sir Arthur Kirkland

With a sigh he sealed the thing, looking up to the clock as it chimed twelve.

Happy fucking new year.

-----

- "even after a treaty was made to avoid such a thing" The treaty he's referring to is the Treaty of Ghent which came about after the war of 1812
- "We are not." We weren't actually out for America xD We were just REALLY paranoid about another war, which is one of the reasons we got so up in arms. Another is that... well we're seriously just too proud |D
- "It is true that many of my people believe your divide is inevitable" There really were some of us who thought this. It was to the point that we even had a military policy before the civil war started in regards to America dividing. We had such faith |D
-"those here that support" As well as the non-believers there were also those who were willing to support the union. John Bright and Richard Cobden were both very strong supporters for the US.
- "French backing upon the matter" The French agreed to back us and support the demands we were making /o/
- I know letters would take, like... 2 weeks to get there. However, one letter a month would screw this over. So I'm just going as if it takes a week to get a response, which leaves 2 weeks between letters XC This still means there's pretty much one more rant on Al's side before this particular issue's resolved /o/ ;~;

- As a random note. Whilst I was looking up the Trent Affair at school the wiki page for it was banned for pornography. I'm not sure what the hell my school thought we were doing at this time, but I'm preeeeetty sure it wasn't that XD

[usa]

January 8, 1862

To Arthur Kirkland

     I cannot clearly explain how I feel about the whole matter. We were very well at a sword's point, and yet the matter resolved itself. I despise this feeling of my people giving into the demands of someone such as yourself. The news of their release should have been accompanied by this letter and given to your leaders.

     I hope that once those traitors reach your borders that they pester you to no end.

Sincerely,
Alfred Jones

January 14

     He tossed the letter Arthur had sent him to the side, not even bothering to read it. He hated this. He had lost a battle he couldn't win from the start. How foolish to have engaged in such. It had been the pride he had that he refused to back down. Even now, despite the fact the national view on the matter had changed, his on view on the matter had changed. If it was him he would have left them to rot in prison. He had little say in it all anyway and instead he simply touched upon it just to know exactly how everything was going. It was apparent that it seemed worse than it was, but the problem had been resolved. The English should have received word on it six days prior. Now there those traitors were, on their merry way. This fact simply pushed the blade in more under his skin. The Confederates were doing what they wanted and getting away with it. The Union was doing just about anything to keep everything together, even if it meant causing more problems. Both sides were out of control.

----

     He boarded the ship along with the newly released prisoners as they boarded La Plata, heading to their destinations in Europe. In reality he was not pleased with the outcome of all this, but it seemed as if the Northern opinion on the matter had changed and therefore he couldn't really argue against it. Once reality set into those in the north, many saw how out of place the action really was. Alfred knew that it was an illegal move, but he supported it anyway, as if to just spite himself. He was not familiar with self-deprecation, but he found himself slowly doing this at the end of the day. Then again, this whole war was making him itch at the fact that his nation was slowly coming apart, both sides instigating to the zenith degree. It was like his revolution, except this time his people were rebelling against themselves.

     Once more, he found himself trying to get back at exactly himself. The rebelling part of his mind thought that it would perhaps be a good idea if he went along with them, out of the country to pay a personal visit to Britain a long with the two diplomats that were tied to this part. The other rejected this whole action as a whole as the north simply wanted to contain all the rebels as to keep control and try to regain some sort of unity. That was the hard part. He walked down to what was now his quarters for the trip and sighed. Leaving the country was perhaps not the greatest ideas, but under his coachman's hat, there was the letter he had received earlier in the day by Arthur, which he had picked up again as he was decided he might as well read later.

      He sat on the bed so sluggishly as if the whole trip had been more than what his body could handle. To be honest his ability to do much anything was lessening, but of course he pushed on anyway. He never let anything get the best of him. If America wanted to damn well do something, he would do it regardless of what others said, did, or the limits he had physically. Currently his limitations were great. Certain psychological difficulties didn't help matters.

"You're only going to help my cause..." He muttered to himself. "You coot." He grinned a bit. "I've taken a cotton to this whole Trent thing... by any circumstance ya'll shouldn't be showin' your face while we're there, ya yank." He frowned. "Trying to get me into more trouble... much appreciated." He laughed and shook his head.

     He flopped back against the bed and stared at the ceiling, the long-forgotten feeling of wanting to sleep was returning. He refused to do so and he wasn't exactly sure why. Might as well read that damn letter. He reached for the letter and took it out from the envelope. He scanned over it and grunted a bit. The never of that man, sometimes. It was a bit late, but it didn't matter. He was screwed anyway, but at least talk of a treaty was getting around. It was an odd one, but an effective one. The kinks weren't at all worked out yet and it was simply a thought floating around the Northern officials. Now he actually had business out in England. Great.

"I bid ya'll good luck...~" A taunting voice echoing through the quarters.

     He lifted his finger and traced a star in the air.

Away, away, away, down south in Dixie.

---

• The British found out about the two diplomat's release on January 8th.
  
• On the 14th the two took off on the ship called La Plata and sailed to their destination, which was Southampton, England.
  
• "Both sides were out of control"- Well... yeah. Many tend to think in a very black and white perspective of it all, and yes the Union was totally for abolition and unity and all that, but the truth is the way the Union went about it was pretty brutal itself. The Union had a tendency to invade, loot, and burn down towns (sometimes because they were... just in the way) and a decent sized portion of death ocurred because there was a bad case of desertion (and the consequence for that is death... so)
  
• "coot"- idiot, basically.
  
• "cotton to"- Southern slang, to take a liking to
  
• "Away, away, away, down south in Dixie."- A lyric from "Dixie", unofficial anthem of the CSA (they had like... 3)
  
• The star he's tracing with his finger is in reference to the Blue Bonnie Flag, which has a single white star on it.
  
• That whole letter in his hat thing... is reference to a habit Lincoln had with his tophat. They say that Lincoln kept important or personal letters under there because Lincoln is too cool for pockets
  
• The "treaty" he's talking about becomes the "Lyons-Sewerd Treaty of 1862" in April. The actual name is very long 8I probably because we were too busy to think of a proper and witty name.
  
• I know I probably fucked up somewhere (because for some reason this was unusually hard for me to write ), so Gearr, if you have a problem with the dates and whatever in this post just IM me about it XD
  

[albion]

January 8th 1862

It was a sigh of relief in the truest of senses, there'd be no war.

"They've not apologized for the matter," Palmerston huffed, evidently displeased that only one of the two demands had been met.

It was indeed true, they'd not issued such a thing. In the grand scheme of things though it had still been their victory on matters, and thus he couldn't bring himself to care too much. "It's true, they've not," he mused. "However, the very fact they've complied is apology enough. Even if it's indirect." It all depended how you viewed the situation really, and this was how he decided to take it for now. "I believe we should simply consider this a victory and move along from it. We gained what we truly wanted in the end." Because what they'd not wanted was a war. Oh there were still many of his people up in arms about the whole thing, and there probably would be for a while yet. However, things had at least somewhat worked out in their favour which was certainly enough for him right now. "Besides which, Sir... Actions speak louder than words, no?" Oh they did, and so many of America's actions had spoken volumes of distaste toward he and his people.

"Hm, quite right. Quite right indeed. Anyroad, we'll send word that we've received their notice upon the matter. If you've anything to add then hand it to Elizabeth." Watching the Minister turn his head back down to his work briefly he waited for a further comment. It was inevitable that the other would have more to say, he always did. "Oh, and Arthur. We'll be greeting one of the representatives shortly no doubt." Well fuck. He supposed it was expected.

"Yes sir, I understand. I'll ensure I'm there when the time comes." Frankly he wanted nothing to do with this Civil war. It was bound to lead him to trouble in the end, and this whole Trent ordeal was proof enough of that. He was between the rock and the hard place with this. Union and Confederation. It was such a bother, and one he was stuck in until something broke. He could only hope that when it finally did he'd not be too badly stuck by the whole mess. He really hated that regardless of what happened it was going to have some form of impact upon him.

"Very good."

With a shake of his head he left the room, stopping by the secretary's desk before leaving. Without much second thought he grabbed a fresh sheet of paper, along with a pen. He didn't have much to say, and indeed with this lad there was little need to gloat about the matter. He'd won, and that was that.

“Dear Alfred F Jones,

Thank you.

Yours Sincerely
Arthur Kirkland”

The words were sincere, whether America would see it or not he frankly didn't much care. He'd said all he needed to, and handing the now sealed letter over he couldn't bring himself to bother with more.

---

January 29th 1862

He'd had word that the ship would be arriving soon, and he could honestly say he wasn't at all looking forward to it. He supposed he found it amusing that they assumed that one man would change the view of Britain, it was rather sad really. True enough he knew the desperation face in civil war, he'd had enough of his own to know exactly what it felt like. Enough to know just how willing both sides were to do truly terrible things to get what they wanted.

With a chattering sigh, the breath condensing out before him, he rubbed his hands together to try and stay some of the cold that was creeping into his bones. It was true that he was a nation known for rather cruel weather, and yes he was wrapped up... But standing in the port of Southampton on a rainy winter's morn was alas not his idea of a good time. This whole day was a load of bollocks if one were to ask him. Perhaps though the week had been rather poor after he'd received a little from the boy. It was true the thing was still upon his desk, not even opened as it so happened. It was simply that he saw no point in doing so. He had no doubt that it would most likely piss him off for no reason, and since the issue had been solved he had no need for further contact with America. At least, not when it was probably just the boy giving him a few choice words on the fact he was allowing confederates into his country.

“Sir?”

Blinking Arthur looked toward the young politician. He supposed it had been rather rude of him to simply lose himself in his thoughts, paying little attention to the brunette who stood beside him. “Yes?” He didn't need an answer though as a ship coming ever closer caught is attention. “I see, very good.” Straightening himself up slightly he run gloved hands through his hair, the black tailcoats on his suit kicking up in the wind slightly. “You know what to do, yes?” The young man nodded, flattening his own fine clothes down as he did.

He really had to commend the other, he looked like a proper English Gent. That was the aim though, no? The had to allow for this fellow that they'd fought so hard to free to believe that they were at least somewhat willing to listen to what was being said upon things. Some of his people were most certainly willing to do that, he knew as much after having to spend near a month with his nation on the verge of yet another war with America. He supposed they would would be seriously delighted with having this chap here, yet at the same time there were those who most certainly did not at all want to support this new splinter group. It was all so complex, and as the ship docked he couldn't help but feel stuck in the middle of the whole thing.

He had two groups of people influencing him, and thus he'd chosen that fine middle ground which simply wished to reject all part in this thing and carry on with his own life. He was a busy man, and this whole civil war was merely getting in his way now.

Still, he couldn't help but feel someone up there truly hated him when he saw exactly who was also leaving the ship...

Just... Just why.

-----

-"They've not apologized for the matter" And they never did. You guys are so darn rude... Ani, say you're sorry >BC
-"I believe we should simply consider this a victory" The Trent affair was considered a political victory to the Brits o7
-”they assumed that one man would change the view of Britain” We were VERY adamant that this was never going to happen, and that our decision would be our own XD
-”the port of Southampton” This was the destination of James Murray Mason

- "Anyroad" It simply means 'Anyway'... Road... Way... See what we did there ?

[usa]

     There was no desire to leave the ship. Perhaps it was the throbbing pain that had formed in his left leg, or just the fact that being in English waters was not something he particularly wanted. There were envoys from both sides in Britain, so he could maybe get away with being here. Slowly sitting up he winced at an ache he was developing in the hand he had manged to injure a weeks prior. It wasn't healing over well and he expected that much. He undid the bandages around his hand and redressed the wound with new ones. Such a pain this all was. How much longer was this nonsense going to keep on? It was like a crusade on both sides. One side said that the Bible supported their acts while the other part of it said that it was a wicked sin punishable by death. Dressing himself he couldn't help but groan at the headache that was steadily worsening in his head. This was going to be a long day. He knew it.

     As the door opened he felt a cold sting against his pale face. Yeah, gonna be a really long day. Upon the deck the crew looked at him somewhat nervously as he scanned over each individual carefully. They looked like they were waiting for the young man to put them out of their misery or something. He wanted to snap out and tell them watch what they were doing, but instead he refrained and simply walked off the boat without a second thought, adjusting his suit and cravat on the way down. He resisted the undying urge to shove a bullet through the traitor's head. His revolver was situated in his trousers, hidden by the long frock coat, and he could easily whip it out, yet he did not. That would be a rather barbaric thing to do around these parts. The traitors had some nerve to be asking for recognition from a nation that wanted nothing to do with this war. It was none of their business and it would never be. He still put the blame of the whole incident on the Confederate traitors.

     But how dare Alfred think such things about his own people?

     Exhausted eyes looked around the dock as he adjusted he slipped on black gloves to protect his hands from the cold and to hide his injured hand. Soon enough, he caught a glimpse of the shaggy, blond-haired man who he had not seen in person since 1815. He already felt himself tense considerably at the sight and his stomach formed a tighter knot than previously. That man always seemed to bring out either the best or worse in the American, and today, he had a feeling it was going to be the latter. He watched the Dixie walk off to the man stood next to the older nation and felt himself wanting to express how disgusted he really was by the whole situation. Instead he rolled his eyes and waited for the Dixie diplomat to be escorted away. Should that happen, he would walk towards the green-eyed nation and look him in the eye.

"Let's try to make this quick and painless." He said firmly. "My... bosses... were going to send me here eventually, and one of them figured now was a good time... the damn genius they are." He looked around, somewhat anxious. "I doubt out here would be the best place to discuss anything, though..."

     Suddenly, a sharp pain rang through his neck and he winced slightly. He tried to cover it up by fisting his hand and coughing into it. His eyes slanted and swore inaudibly. Not now, just... not now. He did not want to show himself as in horrid condition, especially to one of the superpowers of the world. That would show weakness, would't it? Through the whole thing with the two traitors he was trying to show how not weak he was. Showing any cracks now was not something he wanted to do. He felt the need to hide it more around Britain, though. It was a personal thing to say the least. He wanted to make the Brit see the American as an equal instead of just another annoying nation across the pond. Since the French-Indian War, he had the nagging feeling that this man, this empire, would never acknowledge him in the same league. This civil war that just happened to take place on 85 years later could be taken as a sign of instability and weakness, but no one listened to Adams. That America would never become anything more than a country headed for self-destruction. He yelled and screamed, but his pleas just kept falling on the deaf ears he was determined to open up.

---

• .... Maybe I don't wanna say sorry >8I
  
• "It was like a crusade on both sides"- Early on, extremists on both the Union and the Confederacy sides used religion as an excuse to get away with burning each other and resorting to extreme acts of violence. One side said slavery was supported in the Bible while the other said it wasn't. It was kind of later on that more people started joining in because their towns were being burned and raided etc. There's obviously various reasons, but, yeah. Let's just say we're just crazy 8I
  
• 1815 was when the War of 1812 ended with the Treaty of Ghent.
  
• "but no one listened to Adams"- "Mark me, Franklin. If we give in on this issue, there will be trouble one hundred years hence. Posterity will never forgive us." A quote by John Adams about the issue of slavery, 1776 and he was only off by around 15 years. President Andrew Jackson said something similar and it also involved the tariffs issue. we just like to bitch about everything.
  
• If you're curious, he has a 1860 Colt Army revolver
  
• "Dixie"- a Southerner, used offensively (like Yankee)
  

[albion]

Why did he of all people have to come? Why now? Why here of all places? Oh he of course knew, he'd always seen it coming. One side wanted England and France involved, the other wanted them to stay the hell away. With such a divide in wants and needs it was inevitable that something of this nature, though a forewarning would have been appreciated. He'd expected nothing more than some fucked up little American with his head so far up his own arse it was probably he'd not seen the light of day for many months. As it turned out he'd gotten two such individuals. Lucky fucking him

“I want you to attend the one upon the right,” he murmured softly, not wavering upon the direction he was looking. “I'll deal with the other as needed.” Because he'd be fucked if he'd let the little sod run about his country unattended. Eugh, he was hardly in the mood. “Bar for that do as I informed you priorly. Nothing has changed.” Nothing for anyone other than him, but whatever. He didn't care, not really.

As the stranger fell to the council of Arthur's cohort he didn't bother to give the American a second glance, he had no need. It was true, he'd been sent here to play the hospitable host toward that very man. That however had been before some twat had decided it was a right old lark to play this game. He could say right now that he was most certainly not laughing, less so as the other pair left for America to step forwards. Fucking sod's law is what it was.

As the younger stopped before him he didn't look away. Instead he kept jade eyes focused on the other, blink when needed, but keeping his focus there none the less. It was funny really, the change that is. Once that blue was perhaps the only living thing that could elicit any degree of openness from green. Yet now all that was there was the same guarded mistrust that all others gained. The one given because no he did not trust them. Saying that though, at the end of the day he truly trusted no one. With good enough reason too.

"Let's try to make this quick and painless. My... bosses... were going to send me here eventually, and one of them figured now was a good time... the damn genius they are. I doubt out here would be the best place to discuss anything, though..."

Narrowing his eyes slightly, weighing up whether it was legitimately worth trying to throttle the bastard he settled for the option of it not being. “You'd have been better of with the Wino bastard.” And he really did wonder why the fuck he'd been the unlucky sod that had to deal with this. Did the fools think to win him over due to his past ties with the boy? Perhaps, he supposed that would be underhanded enough for them. It'd not work though. They were fools if they thought he'd step in just because one side or the other bat a set of pretty eyelashes at him and asked nicely. He was the god damn British empire, and he'd be damned if he was used in that way. He'd done things people had thought impossible from him, he'd shown them his power and...

And he was not at all worried as the boy tried to cover a wince with a cough. He most certainly did not fist his hands to stop himself reaching out to see if the lad was okay. Of course he didn't, because doing so would mean he felt something other than the well deserved anger. He of course felt nothing but that.

With a huff he turned away. “You're too obvious about it,” was the dull response. It probably seemed colder than he really intended, though he frankly didn't care. “You can try to hide it, Alfred, but you seem to forget that I've done everything you have and then so much more on top. I'm not so dense as to miss what's right in front of me.” He'd had his own civil wars, and thus he did indeed know exactly what was before him. Why Alfred thought he had any ability to hide it he couldn't say, though more over he couldn't say he was too concerned. He had better things to do.

Walking off (assuming the boy would simply follow out of the desire not to be left alone in a strange country) he navigated his way through the crowd with ease. He supposed things were helped by the fact many people had opted to stay indoors on such a bitter day, heavens knew he'd have done the same were it possible. Yet... He couldn't help but find it so amusing that his land was matching his own outwardly cold mask. It bitterly snapped at everything that came close to it, lashing out with rains and storms. It was a sombre place really, and not one those from across the board were liable to at all care for. He liked it that way. His little nation was its own fortress built my nature herself, one perfectly content alone. He was an island through and through.

With no back-glance he seated himself in the carriage, fixedly staring at the opposite wall until the boy entered. “Where exactly are you planning on staying whilst here? You didn't exactly think this through, lad.” He supposed he already knew the answer to that, it was so damn obvious where this was all going. It pissed him off.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, all notions of any other conversation lost. “Don't feed me that horse shite about your bosses demanding it, because frankly I care little for their affairs. Why didn't you go to Francis? I'm sure he'd have fucking loved to have seen you.” Because England didn't want to see him. He'd hoped Ghent would be the end of it, that in itself had been too much of a mistake in his mind. He didn't want the other here, not at all. He could deal with letters, they were simple and impersonal... But when the boy was right fucking there? No, he wanted him gone. He wanted no part in whatever the bastard was playing, because he very obviously was playing some form of game.

-----

- “fortress built my nature herself” A shameless Shakespeare quote from King Richard II.

[usa]

“You'd have been better of with the Wino bastard.”

"Maybe." He stated simply. "Too bad things didn't work out in our favor." He much didn't like this either, but his side of things didn't let him have a choice. "I don't even recall getting on the boat."

     He huffed and looked to the side as the air condensed before him. It had been little over a year since the Brother's War started and he was finding it extremely annoying to say the least. Besides not being able to think straight he hated the fact that the alter-ego took control of his body from time to time and did the darnedest things that America simply didn't know what to do or say to react appropriately. Not only that, he felt the pain of every battle, he heard the cry of every fallen soldier. He felt their pain on both sides of the Mason-Dixon. And yet there he was doing nothing about it. All the young nation could do was stay neutral and let his people decide what they wanted to do to themselves. If they wanted the nation split, so be it. America was a nation that allowed to people to rule, and he was doing just that.

“You're too obvious about it. You can try to hide it, Alfred, but you seem to forget that I've done everything you have and then so much more on top. I'm not so dense as to miss what's right in front of me.”

"Well pardon me to at least seem somewhat fine..." He said, gritting his teeth somewhat at the comment.

     His hand fell to his side and his eyes narrowed a bit as they started off through the crowd. He simply walked behind, following the other as he had never been on British soil before (well, excluding the time he was under England's authority) and getting lost would just simply suck. He adjusted his grey scar so that it covered his mouth and his fists clenched somewhat as he looked at the back of the former. That's all he ever seemed to see. He would always be behind that man. The man that raised him, the man he had left behind... and yet he still couldn't get ahead. Was there just too much of a distance between them? Were they really so different? Was that all Arthur was going to let him ever see? For a long time, he wanted to at least be at the same pace. But no, that seemed to impossible. He knew though, deep down he knew that eventually he would get Arthur to see that he wasn't worthless. That he wasn't just an annoying bastard that showed up in his ports because of some stupid war that had nothing to do with him. His comment simply strengthened the desire. Arthur shooting him down only made him want to keep going. Perhaps they were just both blind to see what bothered each other. He grimaced a bit and looked at the floor thinking. What would it take?

     Great. Looking up he watched the Briton board the carriage and all the young man could do really was to just follow suit. The fact they were going to be in the same enclosed area together made him want to pull a face in rejection, but alas he refrained. He seated himself, giving as much space as physically possibly between him and Arthur and unwilling to look at him as he looked out of the window. His attention was caught again, though.

“Where exactly are you planning on staying whilst here? You didn't exactly think this through, lad.”

"No. I didn't." He stated. "Though I'm sure I'll find something. Embassadors from both ends are here anyway. I don't plan to stay here for long anyway."

     The pain returned to the back of his neck. He knew where this was going very soon and he wanted this process to go as quickly as possible. He would hate to not be the one talking. Things would go wrong, so fast for him. He rubbed the back of his neck as if the pain was going to settle at all. Alfred doubted that the other would care anyway, so there wasn't too much to worry about. His eyes slanted to see him at the corner of his eye before looking away again. It was impossible to look at the Englishman the same again. Not after that day in 1781. Not after the war of 1812. There was not a bit of desire to anyway. This was just somewhat hard to get used to considering the fact the two rarely saw each other anyway. There hadn't been any previous way to try and adjust. Though the question he was waiting for had some. At some point, it was going to be asked. It was just a matter of when.

“Why are you here? Don't feed me that horse shite about your bosses demanding it, because frankly I care little for their affairs. Why didn't you go to Francis? I'm sure he'd have fucking loved to have seen you.”

"It just happened to be the location I ended up." At the same time, he wished he actually was at France's house. "Had I known I would have probably got on the boat to France right off the reel." That in itself was a lie. He didn't want to think of what the Frenchman would say or do. "Yeah, in a way it was by the directions of my bosses, but they didn't say when." he huffed and closed his eyes. "This isn't my definition of spending my time either." It was obvious both wanted as far away from each other as possible. "Though... there was something of somewhat importance... Clamping down on the Middle Passage... that is. I heard your nation has been trying to stop it since you folks abolished slavery..." Abolition. That word came to be the source of his discomfort. "It's too bad..." It was a very quiet statement barely louder than a whisper with a small smile hidden by the scarf, although the look in his eyes quickly faded back to how it was.

     If the trafficking of people could be stopped, then he had an edge on wining the war. The South just had the bad habit of, well, sticking to bad habits. If he could forcibly stop it then there was almost no reason for the South to keep fighting and resisting. Knowing them, they'd probably continue on the basis that the North had no right on interfering on their affairs and once more stepping all over their states' rights. People were so hard to satisfy, especially America's people. He folded his hands together and tried to avoid eye contact with the other. This was increasingly uncomfortable, although he was glad that he wasn't hit with outright rejection yet. He was prepared for that, actually. After everything, England had every right to cut the boy down, as much as America would say he did not. He was fine with the fact that all he would ever get from that point on was just refutation from the man despite the fact he wanted the opposite. Maybe things were just better off that way.

---

• "off the reel"- immediately.
  
• The Middle Passage- That route from Africa to America that carried slaves.
  
• The UK abolished slavery before we could. Because _{the south didn't want to lose it's main source of money and no one really made it an issue until it got really bad.} we're really slow.
  

[albion]

"No. I didn't. Though I'm sure I'll find something. Ambassadors from both ends are here anyway. I don't plan to stay here for long anyway."

Ah, so he was pretty much hoping to wing it? What, did he expect everything to fall into place neatly for him? Did he expect everyone to just roll over for him so that he could walk all over them? Probably, that sounded rather worthy of the lad. “So let me see if I'm following you here,” he started. Already it was obvious that he knew pretty damn well what was going on, and yet he really couldn't help but needle the bastard who just wouldn't get the hell out of his life. Did he not grasp the point that he wasn't wanted...? No, it wasn't even that. For the sake of England himself he merely didn't want the other there to screw him over as easily as he had done in the past. He was sick of all these game, all these silly little dances the boy tried to lead him on. He'd had enough.

“You come to a foreign country which you've never once set foot up and you... You what? Hm?” Snorting he shook his head. He'd like to say it was in disbelief, yet that would be a lie. This was exactly the kind of thing America did, and Arthur knew it.

The other had a not so wonderful habit of just turning up and expecting England to just lump and bear it, to resolve it in a suitable fashion. Of course Alfred would not admit to this, and indeed he probably didn't even know he was doing it... But he was. He was here now expecting England to accommodate him. More the fool him for actually being willing (even if harshly so) to deal with it. Old habits die so very hard it thus seemed.

"It just happened to be the location I ended up. Had I known I would have probably got on the boat to France right off the reel. Yeah, in a way it was by the directions of my bosses, but they didn't say when. This isn't my definition of spending my time either."

Oh and was it not fucking great to know the other still sided with the French bastard when it came down to it. “Then get the fuck out and hail yourself a ship to him,” he stated evenly. That in itself was perhaps the most worrying part of it. He wasn't yelling. He wasn't shouting, and indeed his temper was seemingly being well kept. It wasn't. If there was one thing that could drive him up the wall without any effort it was knowing that America had sided with France, and was indeed once more doing such a thing. It was like another knife in the back... Still, at the end of the day it was just giving him more razor edged objects to hurl back.

“I'm sure he'd simply adore to have a strapping young lad about the place.” The implications of such a comment were as clear as day, and indeed they were far from innocent. By this point he really didn't much care as to what this foolish boy thought of him, all he knew was that he couldn't help but wonder 'why'? Why him? Why now? Why here? It was a pain, one that left him utterly baffled if he were perfectly honest.

"Though... there was something of somewhat importance... Clamping down on the Middle Passage... that is. I heard your nation has been trying to stop it since you folks abolished slavery..."
"It's too bad...”

Business, that was something he could deal with. “Yes.” It was true enough, they'd been doing such a thing for a while now. They wanted it to stop. “People can be brutal things, no sense of morality at all. They'll rip apart their own families in the name of something so fickle as superiority.” Had Alfred not done exactly the same? “However, sometimes their sense of morality can be truly something. Slavery was obviously not at all something agreeable to modern standards of humanity.” He snorted. “Still, I find it amusing. The land of the free is the land of the slaves.” Irony could be so damn sweet at times, and he had little doubt that such a comment would rub the Union up in all the wrong ways.

Frankly he didn't care.

He no longer had to care whether America was hurt or well. He didn't need to concern himself with whether the other was happy or upset. He simply didn't need to bother himself with the other's well being. The lad wanted independence? So be it. In return though he'd also gain a void of everything that was once there, and in some ways obviously still was.

“This is how it shall run through until you leave my land.” Still not looking at the other he shifted in his seat, gaze very firmly locked on the not so interesting wall opposite him. “You will have one of my guest rooms. You will remain in the vicinity of my home unless with I; however, within those grounds you are free to do as you please. You will be expected to at least make yourself present before my prime minister, and for the love of the queen I implore you keep yourself in check. Finally, you will leave my people be. I do not need such an unstable individual hassling people which could potentially be used as leverage. Do not claim you would not do such a thing, you cannot speak for both sides of that thing you call a brain.” The voice now used was short and sharp. They were demands, not requests.

At the end of the day they would have probably have been complied with anyway. Alfred was obviously ill at ease here, and was of course unlikely to go for a quick jaunt across the city. Still, it was better safe than sorry with someone who was so obviously unbalanced even a blind beggar would be able to see it.

“If you have an problems with this then feel free to get out. I have utter faith you would find this place most impossible to survive without either funds or information. You could perhaps procure the latter, but most certainly not the former.” Finally he looked at the boy, eyes showing no hint of a lie. He was damn serious about his words, enough so that he was perfectly willing to kicks the lad up the arse and help him out all the faster. He was being gracious enough to allow the other to stay for now, but such a thing would only be given on his own terms to him. The matter really wasn't up for debate.

[usa]

“So let me see if I'm following you here. You come to a foreign country which you've never once set foot up and you... You what? Hm?”

     He wanted to roll his eyes but refrained.

“Then get the fuck out and hail yourself a ship to him, I'm sure he'd simply adore to have a strapping young lad about the place.”

"... If anything that's the one thing keeping me from going." It was clear that neither of them had a very high opinion of the Frenchman.

     If Britain wouldn't side with the Confederacy, then they would rely on France of all things, if only because they were the next best thing. Politically... that is. It was odd logic.

“Yes. People can be brutal things, no sense of morality at all. They'll rip apart their own families in the name of something so fickle as superiority. However, sometimes their sense of morality can be truly something. Slavery was obviously not at all something agreeable to modern standards of humanity.”

"Of course it's not, but it's hard to get rid of something that... has a large industry behind it..." He added, no hints of being snarky at all, but merely stating a fact. Even his face was deadpanned as he spoke, unusual of such an unpleasant personality. But as quick as it came, it left again as the body pricked at the wounded hand, still gloved. He bit at his tongue to keep himself from making any sound.

     Unfortunatly the facts were right there, plain as day. The innocent invention of the cotton gin, the very device that was made to eliminate the need for slaves only increased the need. It made southerners extremely wealthy, so much so that the term "millionaire" was coined just a few decades ago since there was so much money floating around. It made people sick at the fact that there were humans willing to sacrifice the freedom of another in order to make a luxurious lifestyles for themselves. A few months ago when Alfred was feeling a bit better than he was now, he used to watch how his president shot down making slavery an issue in the war. He understood such a decision perfectly. The aim was to preserve the Union, not to tear it apart with more bias. In a way, it was what the previous presidents have done. They believed that it would go away on its own. Well, there was a war now with it's underlying reasons for starting being slavery, so perhaps the fate of the Africans rested on this war. He could feel that a new type of citizen was on the way, even if the decision rested in the hands of a different race. It was strange and sad, really. Snapped from his thoughts through the harsh words of the other nation, his stomach tightened unbearably. It was just rubbing salt into the wounds that he had made for himself.

“Still, I find it amusing. The land of the free is the land of the slaves.”

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Slanting his eyes to look at the other he scowled sharply. "I'm not the one who decided this in the first place." He snapped out, finding it hard to keep his temper in place. Quite frankly he was offended. "It not was my decision, nor my government's." Yet in the end he was powerless as to what he could really do. "They were just given the wrong thing to try." In reality, he was putting blame on the monarchy he used to be loyal to. "We are free not just in who's considered it, you know."

     Indeed. Freedom of servitude was not the only factor that went into it. Freedom came in a democratic society that had the people decide what went on within the country. That's why everyone had representation. It was so that they could have a say as to what laws were passed, what decisions were made. It was a divine and grand system really. The Constitution was a magnificent thing in it's own. "We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America." read the Preamble. Such an impressive sentence that meant so much... but what did that mean now? There was no longer any "justice" in this war as soldiers were put through brutal deaths and sent to horrific prisons that didn't so much as give them food and water, let alone shelter or clothes, having them fend for themselves like damned rats. The "perfect union" was unfortunately connected by thin strands that would snap once enough pressure was applied. Quickly more and more weight was pulling at the end of the thread and it became only a matter of time. He turned pale at the thought.

He released a deep sigh, trying to regain himself after that episode. "What we do ask... is if your nation will assist us on closing off the Middle Passage..." The words left a strange taste in his mouth.

     The Union hoped to use the slaves against the South. Of course it was a case of using their own weapon against them. Slaves did just about everything crucial for survival. They were the ones that planted the crops and harvested them, they were the ones that picked the cotton for the uniforms, and just about all the hard work. If the Middle Passage could be shut down, then there would be no more man power being put into the South's arsenal. Politicians in the North were smart, no doubt. They knew what they wanted to do and how they wanted to do it, it was a matter if it was possible or not. It was, and at the same time it was not. For one, Lincoln didn't want to free the slaves just yet as he still wanted to keep the South at least remotely satisfied. Second, with this proposal they had brought up, it was up to whether Britain would accept such and assist. That in itself was a rather hard task. No one got anywhere without trying though. It was a long shot of course.

“This is how it shall run through until you leave my land. You will have one of my guest rooms. You will remain in the vicinity of my home unless with I; however, within those grounds you are free to do as you please. You will be expected to at least make yourself present before my prime minister, and for the love of the queen I implore you keep yourself in check. Finally, you will leave my people be. I do not need such an unstable individual hassling people which could potentially be used as leverage. Do not claim you would not do such a thing, you cannot speak for both sides of that thing you call a brain. If you have an problems with this then feel free to get out. I have utter faith you would find this place most impossible to survive without either funds or information. You could perhaps procure the latter, but most certainly not the former.”

     The young nation merely looked at him, listening and nodding slowly. It was odd how despite everything Arthur was doing this. He wanted to question but he figured that would just be flat out stupid, even by his standards. It was in America's interest, though, that he leave the country as quickly as possible. He needed to be in his country should something arise, only if because it was appropriate and because it was his nation that was the only one at war and no one else. His leaders simply believed that interaction was necessary anyway. The North did it in such a reluctant manner that it was blatantly obvious they did not want to do business with Europe during such times. The South, on the other hand was quite eager to engage in such activities, believing that such interactions would be one step closer to independence.

     Familiarity rang out within his head. Hadn't he been through this before? The memory wasn't that distance. In fact it was only over 80 years ago, was it not? The Revolution? America had wanted independence from the British monarchy, and now here he was again, wanting the same thing, except from himself. History repeated itself in odd ways as his gaze fell back outside, finding it more placid than whatever he was thinking or the heavy air that filled the cab. This time he hoped that while history may have repeated itself, it didn't end the same way. It was not called "the Brother's War" for nothing. Not only would America's existence be threatened, but families would grow apart. That was perhaps one thing he feared more than his own collapse. Being here, in another country made him think about how the Southerners thought of their land. Did they think of it being something entirely different? It was something he mulled over from time to time.

     He stopped pricking at his hand an rubbed his forehead with an exasperated sigh. Between England's rules and presenting himself to his boss. Great. Now what did he need to do. Shit.

---

• "he was putting blame on the monarchy he used to be loyal to."- In a way, that kind of... can be the case in that argument. Since indentured servants were just a fail in terms of cheap human labor, the British monarchy instead used Africans and sent them to the American colonies. It kind of just... stuck.
  
• "horrific prisons"- Andersonville Prison. That. Is. All.. Union prisons were not any better.
  
• "We The People..." etc. etc.- Preamble to the Constiution.
  
• I AM SOOOOO SORRY this took so long ffffffffffffff
  

[albion]

"... If anything that's the one thing keeping me from going."

Snorting he shrugged, a finger tapping restlessly upon his knee restlessly. “That's hardly my problem. I frankly don't care which side of you wants my help, but there'll be none of it. Go to him and leave me be, I want nothing to do with your mess.” This wasn't his responsibility. If the lad went there and ended up with far more than he bargained for then so be it. There may have been a tinge of anger about such a thing, a part that hated that idea... or perhaps it was all a misconception from the current situation.

In the end it was just easier to say he didn't care, because that was most certainly how he wanted it. He'd wanted nowt to do with the whole Trent thing, and he wanted no involvement at all with this war. He wanted to stay out of this fool's business. The boy was independent, he'd driven that home terribly hard, yet he was being damn well more high maintenance than he ever had been as a colony. Why wouldn't he stay away?

"Of course it's not, but it's hard to get rid of something that... has a large industry behind it..."

Those were the words of the week if ever he'd heard them. One did not survive as a nation by forming any sort of dependence upon something like that, it was a fools game that would only ever end in failure. If this southerner wanted to dedicate himself to an industry that was now so unstable then one had to wonder if he was truly fit to lead. Mind, in Arthur's opinion no part of the boy before him was fit to lead.

He had been given the silver spoon of privilege, and had done nothing to earn what he currently had. He'd taken Spain in decline, stealing his blasted land out from under him with minimal effort due to the trials others had put into crushing the Spaniard bastard. When it came down to it the twat had never won an honest fight. He'd needed surrender to win independence, and a treaty to end their last war. What kind of fool was he? No, England was near certain this lad had no place in the current world standing. Nor would he at this rate.

“Hardly. You're just too needy,” he stated without remorse. "You're just like a small child clinging onto their favourite toy.” It'd be easier if he was indeed just a child. England would have undoubtedly known how to deal with this. The mess would have been cleared up quickly, and yet he was not that child. “Don't you see?” He sneered, not really caring which side he was even talking to at present. “Your dear toy is broken.”

"I'm not the one who decided this in the first place. It not was my decision, nor my government's. They were just given the wrong thing to try. We are free not just in who's considered it, you know."

Blah blah blah, whine whine whine. He really didn't give a shit for his pathetic excuses. “They're your people, this is their choice. By extension it is in effect yours, now stop being such a brat about it and deal with it.” Oh it sucked to be blamed for what your bosses and people did, he knew that well enough. Despite that on this occasion he had absolutely no problem in doing it.

With their kind though that was usually how it went, no? The boss said jump and they were obliged to ask how high. There was never really a way around it and thus they just dealt with it, they got on with whatever it was and rather just dealt with the personal consequences they'd face for such. Frankly it was far from fair, but hey, that's life.

"What we do ask... is if your nation will assist us on closing off the Middle Passage..."

He'd known all along that the little bugger had wanted something all along. To be frank he wasn't at all surprised, and not so much irritated by the question as the fact he dare ask for anything from him. Oh it was true he didn't care for the Middle Passage, as a person he'd be happy to see it cone. Yet at the same time he refused to give America anything. He'd wasted enough of his life running around trying to please the bastard only to have it thrust into his back with not a thanks to be heard. He was no way in hell making that mistake again.

“Don't you dare ask me for anything. You made it clear you wanted me out of your business, and I am most certainly happy to be so. Do not dare to think I owe you any form of cooperation.” The boy was truly a naïve fool to think England would be anything close to willing to do as he wanted. "This will not work both ways, I am neutral. What part of that do you not grasp? No, what a stupid question. It's obviously the whole damn thing that you seem to be missing.” He'd made his stance clear, and whether or not America wanted to accept this he didn't much care to be frank. If he did indeed aid the union in the closure then no doubt the confederation would come after him all guns blazing. He wanted none of that, he was happy on his little island.

“Make no mistake in your being here,” he added firmly. “I do not want you here. I am not doing this as a favour to you. My actions are not out of kindness or pity, I simply don't want some yankee mixing with my people." There was no telling what he'd do. “I'm following orders, nothing more. I shan't help someone like you, not after you damn near caused another war because you wouldn't stay the hell out of something that was illegal for you to interfere in.” Closing his eyes for a moment all the could be heard was the tapping of his shoe against the solid wood below. “If you want aid speak to my prime minister. Your affairs are not my concern, America.” Because didn't that name just leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

---

I was asked to hold my post off for China, hence this is done first

[usa]

“That's hardly my problem. I frankly don't care which side of you wants my help, but there'll be none of it. Go to him and leave me be, I want nothing to do with your mess.”

A simple shrug was used as a reply. He didn't want to go, but he had a feeling at some point he would have to. He wanted nothing to do with that... strange man. They no longer had a "permanent alliance" or whatever it was. That was broken a long time ago, and barely even lasted 30 years. France seemed simply too conniving for his taste.

“Hardly. You're just too needy. You're just like a small child clinging onto their favourite toy. Don't you see? Your dear toy is broken.”

He couldn't help but laugh a bit, finding a strange humor in this. "It was broken from the start." It was all based on broken morality really. "But did that stop us, the rest of the world? No, of course not, not when it's still a very profitable business." A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Yes yes, it will go away, of course it will. So does everything... but... that's hardly the issue." As in the previous revolution, this had the same goals. "Sic Semper Tyrannis. Independence is all that matters...~" A chuckle escaped him slightly. "You know how it works."

Americans had always had a weird addiction to pick at their own cracks in order to get what they wanted to the point where they would almost tear down their government to do so. Then again that was a right given to them. If the government falls out of favor of the people, it was the people's right to abolish it. But... this wasn't abolition. This was secession. It tore at him from the inside. They wanted their states' rights to be protected, so were they? Not really, obviously they felt threatened by the new officials in Washington. Unfortunately they believed a war would help get the message across. It did, but no one was listening to well. He didn't want to believe that his nation was going to end before becoming a century old, and so he didn't. With an American spirit he would get over this swiftly. The Southerns would soon realize how outmatched they are and soon withdraw, despite the fact Alfred knew that they weren't going to be taken down so easily. It was hard to say when it would end.

“Don't you dare ask me for anything. You made it clear you wanted me out of your business, and I am most certainly happy to be so. Do not dare to think I owe you any form of cooperation. This will not work both ways, I am neutral. What part of that do you not grasp? No, what a stupid question. It's obviously the whole damn thing that you seem to be missing. Make no mistake in your being here, I do not want you here. I am not doing this as a favour to you. My actions are not out of kindness or pity, I simply don't want some yankee mixing with my people. I'm following orders, nothing more. I shan't help someone like you, not after you damn near caused another war because you wouldn't stay the hell out of something that was illegal for you to interfere in. If you want aid speak to my prime minister. Your affairs are not my concern, America.”

"And I will do so gladly." He stated simply. "I never asked for your pity. If I had wanted that then I would not have become independent from you." If anything he wanted to show how pitiful he was not. "Maybe you'll get your wish to be 'neutral' in the end. Your country seems favorable to my split anyway." A deep paranoia had quickly arisen from all this. "The issue with the Trent may be over, but don't think it's going to end there." It wasn't, and he wasn't even saying it to sound like he'd do it intentionally.

The nation had quickly become a rising power in such a short amount of time. From a lowly colony to a rising nation to a nation about to be literally split in two. It was all in the people's hands, and he wished that they did not have to make this choice. They were confident, having elected their own Confederate president, congress, currency, the works. If this were to keep up... well... he refused to think about such a possibility. Both sides wanted help from the older nation, but obviously that wad going to be hard getting. Alfred personally didn't want to have anything to do with the man considering their current history. But no, he had to be in the wrong state of mind and be brought here. This whole split mentality thing was fucking annoying as well as painful. Right now he was wishing this was dealt with 84 years prior.

---

• Sic Semper Tyrannis- Very infamous quote, often being translated as "death to tyrants". They say Marcus Junius Brutus said this as he killed Julius Ceasar, and this phrase was shouted by John Wilkes Booth after assassinating President Lincoln. No I am not foreshadowing anything. Also state motto of Virginia. which is a Confederate state
  
• aaaaand This is done, I believe~ people spoke so proper back then what.