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Post by Alfred Effing Jones on Sept 5, 2010 18:30:07 GMT -5
Alfred F. Jones wasn't sure why he was here of all places. He had told himself that he wouldn't go back. He'd told himself that after he gained his independence he wouldn't ever go see England again. But here he was standing in front of his door with his fist hovering above the door after having knocked on it.
The cold winter wind bit at his cheeks and he was reminded of some of the newly claimed parts of his growing country where it would still be warm at this time of year. But he was in England, exactly where he knew he should be.
The fledgling nation was still torn in half, even though the war had ended. He needed help industry, but didn't know who to go to. So here he was...right here.
(Not completely historically accurate but idc)
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Sept 5, 2010 20:12:43 GMT -5
It was a long moment before the door was pulled open and a surly looking Briton peered out. "Well. If it isn't the almighty git himself." He sighed. "What do you want?"
His hair was the slightest bit more ruffled and there was a slight flush to his cheeks - either the Brit had been drinking or screaming into a pillow in frustration. It was really hard to tell, though.
He finally pulled the door open all the way, frowning.
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Post by Alfred Effing Jones on Sept 5, 2010 20:23:45 GMT -5
Alfred stood at the doorstep, shuffling from foot to food anxiously. He didn't know what to say and the fact that Iggy looked like hell didn't help. Because for once he didn't want to tell him to his face like he looked a little bit like he'd been either drinking or screaming.
"So...how've you...how've you been?" He asked, looking down at the ground. Texas, the pair of glasses he had just found lying on the ground and had picked up only to find that they worked perfectly, slipping off his nose.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Sept 5, 2010 20:59:23 GMT -5
"I've definitely been in better moods." Arthur scowled further, his bushy eyebrows barely concealing the fact that, if he wasn't hiding behind a show of anger, he would likely be crying.
It had been a double blow, losing Matthew. Mostly because it had happened almost exactly like it had with the almighty git standing in front of him. The fact that they were almost identical didn't help either.
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Post by Alfred Effing Jones on Sept 5, 2010 21:20:24 GMT -5
Alfred refused to feel ashamed for gaining his independence. He refused to back down because his former older brother was feeling sorry for himself. So in typical American fashion he got over his awkward turtle moment and pushed past Arthur into the house, fixing up things here and there where they'd either been left recently or Arthur had let the place fall to shit in his depression.
"Damn, old man, when's the last time you cleaned up in here?" He asked, sitting Arthur down on the couch almost forcefully and going about making a meal.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Sept 5, 2010 21:24:15 GMT -5
"What do you want?" Arthur demanded again, not bothering to answer Alfred's question. He frowned down at his couch cushions (one of which began smoking as he glared at it) and attempted to make it disappear. Forever.
The couch really was an ugly color. He probably would do better to get rid of it.
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Post by Alfred Effing Jones on Sept 6, 2010 11:52:54 GMT -5
"You have the manufacturing blue prints, I have the resources. It's good business." He stated, trying to skirt around the awkward topic of asking for help as he hauled Arthur off of the couch and hit him with the smoking pillow.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Sept 6, 2010 12:18:21 GMT -5
"Gck!" Arthur pulled the pillow away from Alfred and projectile missile'd it right into his face, frowning. "I wouldn't have thought you'd want anything to do with me, or my help."
It was about this point that he noticed something different about Alfred - sure, the man was taller than him now, he expected that, but it was more of a... he was taller by a hair.
A very pointy, cowlick-looking hair.
And cowlicks among nations... he couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the prospect of that thought. He might have this bloody idjit back under him sooner than he thought...
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Post by Alfred Effing Jones on Sept 6, 2010 12:24:08 GMT -5
"Yeah well maybe I'm here to do you a favor." He started in, babbling on about how much it would benefit England to go into business with him. He didn't even notice that England was staring at him for a long time, but when he did he stopped dead in his tracks, face heating up.
"Iggy, why are you looking at me like that?" He squeaked.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Sept 6, 2010 13:01:43 GMT -5
Arthur stepped forward, seeming to consider Alfred. Almost aristocratically, he began walking around the American, looking him up and down until his eyes locked back onto the cowlick. He leaned forward, examining it. "What's this, then?" he reached out a hand to grab it, barely containing a smirk.
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Post by Alfred Effing Jones on Sept 6, 2010 13:05:44 GMT -5
"That? That's Nantuck-AH!" He gasped as his hair was grabbed, pleasure shooting through him as his knees went weak. "That's...Nantucket...ohhhhnghh." He moaned weakly, his eyes going dark.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Sept 6, 2010 13:18:28 GMT -5
Arthur smirked as the reaction came, exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. "Thought so." He stepped a bit closer, "You know, the Italy brothers have these. So did your brother, and so do most of the other nations..."
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Post by Alfred Effing Jones on Sept 29, 2010 13:44:02 GMT -5
"You been pulling on people's curls, then?" He shot back with a weak glare. He didn't want to think that Arthur had been doing this to anyone else. It was....idecent! Yeah! That's why he disapproved and not because he was jealous, not at all!
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Sept 29, 2010 20:00:01 GMT -5
"No." Arthur smirked, "But being drinking partners with Prussia, I tend to learn of these things." he shifted his hand so he was pinching Nantucket between his forefinger and his thumb.
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