ThePrussiaxWorld

Prussia took a familiar route to the all too familiar place, his feet carrying him there without any conscious thought. He knew how conspicuous he looked clad in his black dress uniform, walking in this small town with a white chrysanthemum in his hand. But, he couldn't care less. Let people look at him questioningly; he did not care. He had performed the same ritual every year for more than a century and he was not about to give it up just because Hitler wanted to have some dinner with his commanders. Prussia had made all the proper goodbyes, stating that there was a pressing matter that needed his attention before grabbing the key to one o

The cell was lit only by a single exposed bulb, which swung slowly although there was no movement of the air in the room. Prussia was walking around the sparse space in small circles. His mind was reeling. He had been captured by the Red Army, and Berlin had most likely fallen. From this windowless room, with its grim concrete walls, he had had no news of the outside world. It had been at least a couple days since he had been captured, but it was hard to say without a clock or any view of the sun. The hours all blended together and seemed to stretch on eternally. Prussia glanced down at his forearms, which were exposed because he was wearing

Prussia lit a single candle, all he would need to find his way through the palace at night, and then dressed quietly. He didn't want to wake the servants who would undoubtedly tell his king about his comings and goings. This was one trip be wanted to make in complete secrecy. He had been woken by the sound of a trapped bird playing out its song late in the night, when it was allowed to. He had decided that he was going to seek out the source of the music. He was not entirely sure why he felt so strongly, he simply did. His instincts did not usually fail him. Prussia pulled on a vest over his shirt, decided that it was too late at night to b

Russia was standing on the balcony of his house in Leningrad. He had a lazy smile on his face. His thoughts were focused on how well things were going between himself and Prussia. The invasion of Poland had been perfect, there had even been a moment when they had been so close that Russia could almost taste the porcelain skin. He ran his tongue slowly over his lips remembering it. Then he had seen glorious retribution exacted upon France at the albino's hand; it had been beautiful and only reinforced the cruelty Russia had seen behind those eyes when offering the nonaggression pact. Below him he could see people milling about, doing tasks th

Russia watched with some trepidation as the gleaming black Mercedes, adorned with little red flags pulled into the driveway. He had been anticipating this meeting since it had been arranged over the phone, but now that he was faced with actually going through with it he felt a sinking sense of dread. What if his words failed him and he made a fool out of himself? He still felt like an outsider on the European stage and having a part in European politics still felt awkward to him. Now was worse than before because he was still in the process of pulling together his identity after the revolution and the civil war. The door of the car opened an

Germany was standing in America's office waiting for the never punctual blonde to show up. He had urgent business that he wanted to discuss and the American had done him the courtesy of being late. Germany agitatedly checked his watch again and the slowly moving hands again confirmed that the American was late. Germany sat in the chair on his side of the empty desk. Irritated, he tapped his finger against the arm of the chair. Suddenly, the door behind him banged open. He immediately jumped to his feet and turned to face the door. He had a very pressing point to discuss with America and nothing was going to stop him. But America looked right