absolutely did not want to come anywhere near France today. He would have been just fine locking the house down until Francis went back to-
normal all on his own. He can deal with Francis as a female, and he can deal with Francis as a child. But this is one point in time it-
makes him physically ill to think of reliving. And he's never one to get so upset to easily. It took every ounce of resolve to get himself
on the plane over here, after Gilbert explained the situation. He can't blame the light-headed feeling on the flight though. That's all-
revulsion at what he knows will come to the door now that he knocks. It'll be the part of France still rebelling...or the obedient one.-
The one with the flat, dull-colored eyes and blank expression he'll never forget.
Francis
is
reading a book when the doorbell knocks. It wasn't too intently; it was hard to concentrate with André Montagnard's song constantly stuck-
in his head. He doesn't mind either, though. He sets the book aside, and stands. He isn't sure who would be coming to see him, but at the -
moment he feels just empty enough that he doesn't care, up until he opens the door and sees who is on the other side. He tenses and blanches
immediately, but does little more than that. Just seeing him there makes him angry. He wants to slam the door, lock it, and go find some-
sort of weapon to defend himself, if needed. But he doesn't. He can't even bring himself to *move*. "...Hello, Monsieur Allemagne."
can't open his mouth yet. He vaguely realizes his hands are shaking at his sides and allows them to curl into fists. There isn't a day-
that he doesn't relive those times, easily the darkest days in his history. They cast a shadow over the Weimar years, underlining all their
successes with inescapable negativity and *remember-whens*, forever stereotyping his people. Shaming generations. "Why are you wearing-
that uniform, Frankreich..."
looks down at his outfit, as if he isn't sure what he's wearing. Eventually he looks back up, but he doesn't look Germany in the eyes. -
That would be far too inappropriate. He knows how to behave properly. "This is my standard issue uniform, sir." He pauses. "Is there -
something wrong with it?" He made sure to press it and make sure there wasn't any lint on it earlier...
Ludwig
hates
this. Staying home was the only logical thing to do, but here he is, staring at a uniform he thought Francis would have burned years ago.-
Where had he found that old thing, anyway? Nevermind. Ludwig cleared his throat and tried to make eye contact with him. His problem-
Ludwig
was
different than Francis' though. Looking at him in that outfit, that physical symbol of repression, *stung*. "This is two thousand ten,-
Francis. Your mind may be in the past, but your body is in the present. You need to snap out of this."
frowns. As many times as he's heard that, that must be the case, but there isn't anything he can do about changing his state of mind. Or if-
there is a way to do it, he doesn't know of it. He can't directly...oppose Germany, though. "Sir, I do not know how to snap out of anything.
In regards to the way I am behaving, you are the one who wanted me like this, non? I don't know how to change. Please...don't get upset with
me. I...I can change if you tell me what I need to do."
could strike him for that, if he weren't in control right now. He wants to; it's a repetition of something said long ago, he's sure of it,-
but the wound it inflicts is nothing like then. They were at odds even before the Reich pushed Petain into their midst and unleashed hell.-
Back then, nothing stung; he was numb to everything but pain from the....those. "Change. Now. And stop calling me sir."
looks down at the ground; now that seems to be the safest place. He doesn't know how this Germany differs from the one he knows,-
so he can't help but imagine that this request is some kind of sneaky trick in order to punish him. "Si--...I don't know *how*."
reacts without thinking. He can't take seeing France dressed like this for another moment. He shoves him back roughly, enough to get in-
through the door and shut it behind himself. "*Undress* or I will do it for you."
stumbles backwards, wide-eyed. This feels more familiar, but he's not exactly comforted by that. It's not like he enjoys living in-
constant fear. Nor does he like undressing in front of him. It always makes him feel dirty and vunerable. Degraded and humiliated. But-
he doesn't need to be told twice. After a moment of hesitation, he starts taking off his uniform, careful to not wrinkle it and-
after folding it neatly, he sets it on the edge of the couch.
realizes after a moment that this scene is entirely familiar. But the first time it happened, there were two other men in the room and one-
of them was laughing, sneering at his once closest friend. They made him undress and forced him into *that* uniform. Not the same one,-
but one incredibly like it. Ludwig can't remember the other times he or Gilbert forced Francis to undress, but they've all bled together.-
Most of the memories from that time have gone grey, simply because there were so many like instances. The worst are the ones he can't-
escape at night. "Find something in your room to put on. Something normal." It's a shame he's still so trusting. This is a divided-
France before him. He may be compliant now, but that could shift the second he finds a loaded weapon in his bedroom, if he keeps any.
shivers once he's down to just wearing his underthings. His living room is a little cool from having the windows open, but without warm -
clothes, it's downright *freezing*. He nods once and heads upstairs for a new shirt and pair of trousers. Had he reached into another drawer
, the one where his normal self kept socks and shorts, he'd find a PAMAS G1, but unloaded, with the safety on. He didn't think open that-
drawer, though, so for now the best weapon he has is one of those expensive vases he has throughout the house. After dressing, he returns-
downstairs. "Is this better, sir?"
crosses his arms and glares at the floor while he waits. He's fairly surprised when Francis comes back instead of locking himself in a room
upstairs or something. But he shouldn't be. This is familiar obedience out of fear. "Sit down."
glances over at the possible seating in his living room, then sits down in an arm chair, albeit stiffly and right on the edge. He's waiting-
for whatever he's to be told to do next, so he doesn't bother saying anything.
Ludwig
is
worse at this than Gilbert was. They're at least alike in that when he's confused, Ludwig just stands there as well. Hundreds of potential
things run through his mind, but all of them are seventy years too late, and this France wouldn't believe a word of them. "...you need-
to wake up from this. Whatever you did, you need to undo it. No good will come of this."
Francis
was
studying the rub beneath his feet, but when he hears that, he has to look up. "Whatever *I* did? I've only ever done what you wanted since-
the Armistice. So...really. Whatever I do falls on you." Maybe not. But he's already trying to pretend the things he's done over the past-
couple years were completely not his responsibility.
Ludwig
has
to literally bite the inside of his cheek to keep from replying inappropriately. The right response is ingrained in him but buried. It's-
supposed to *stay* there, just like all the other bullshit propaganda he followed because his people had no other choice but to believe.-
"Listen to me. Stop talking like that. We are not at war now. Only our politicians."
Francis
feels
like crossing his arms and slumping back against the back of the chair, but he remains rigid, with his hands folding in his lap. "Then I -
simply will not talk." At this point, he doesn't know how to not hate the other man and everything about him so he has no idea how to go-
about behaving differently.
considers hitting him. If he does it hard enough, maybe even knocks Francis out for awhile, he might wake up right again. "Stop being-
so stubborn. Did you fall in the past few days, or did you simple wake up like this?"
doesn't reply for a long moment. Not to be rude, but because he's actually considering this. "I don't know. My body is as sore as it-
normally is. I'm too stupid to know the difference." Now he's just being spiteful.
won't take that bait as quickly as he could. That's a prime opportunity to prove he's not the same; the older version would agree and-
ridicule him, go to the farthest extent possible to break down what little self esteem he still retained. "Have you slept at all? If you-
try to sleep, you might wake up normal again..."
"I'm not tired." That's a blatant lie. It's probably obvious how much he hasn't slept, judging by the dark rings around his eyes. He's-
exhausted, but so much that he's restless and can only toss and turn when he tries to sleep. "And I am normal. My future self seems to be-
the abnormal one, if he can tolerate you company like that other boche implied."
your*]
strikes him, the back of his hand whipping so fast across France's cheek so hard it leaves his knuckles stinging. He benda lower, hands
planting on the arms of Francis' chair to keep him there. "Say what you will about me. But I won't have you insult my brother."
bites the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound. He can't do anything about his cheek aching so badly that his eyes are swelling,
though. This is another moment where he wants to say something, go right for the throat, but he doesn't have the resolve to do that -
anymore. He's suffered through much worse; it's the thought of that that keeps him from saying anything more than a mumbled 'yes sir.'
rubs the back of his hand, scowling. "I told you to stop calling me sir. You are not abnormal in my time. You are far more promiscuous than
what is healthy, but you certainly are not abnormal. We spend quite a lot of time together."
scoots back in the chair, leaning right back against the back, just to put some space between them. He glances to the side, almost -
considering taking a dive off the arm rest, but he's far too classy, even like this, for something like that. "Why would I spend time with-
*you*?"
doesn't straighten up yet. If the proximity is making France uncomfortable, too bad. Just *looking* at him is making Ludwig uncomfortable-
"Evidently because you enjoy it. You enjoy *spending time* with both my brother and I, sometimes both at once."
makes a gagging sound. "Disgusting. Don't...don't get any ideas. *I'm* not ever doing that." Clearly his future self is completely-
Francis
is
a*) different person than himself, like a twin or something.
snorts, really unmoved by his expression. "Yes, you will. And willingly this time. Won't that be a nice change."
Francis
feels
dreadfully ill upon hearing that, due to the memories that drags up. And then he sees red and lashes out, the best he can, with his-
fists, nails, feet, whatever.
Ludwig
will
let him get away with this one. He rocks back, heading for the floor, and throws his arm up in defense. He'll swing once, maybe twice-
but lets Francis land the majority of his blows, grunting at the worst of the pain.
Francis
has
completely lost it at this point, so even if he wanted to stop, he wouldn't have been able to. He gets off the armchair to get a -
better shot at him. Any blow Ludwig lands on him, he doesn't feel it. He's too busy letting out all his build up anger and frustration the-
best he can.
regrets for a moment that he isn't properly armed for this sort of fight. Even if he were, at this point, he might simply pass the gun over
to France to let him get all that energy out. It goes without saying that he will never not be ashamed of those years, but at times he-
Ludwig
feels
as though he owes a penance, that refusing to fight back now is partial payment for the suffering Francis went through all those years ago.-
It can't match up, of course, but he'll give him this opportunity at least, just half-heartedly defending himself. "Frankreich..."
continues, but after a moment he realises that Ludwig really isn't doing anything to fight back. He should be. At this point, Francis -
should be tied up and getting a good beating. But Ludwig is mostly...taking it. He's still angry, but that realisation keeps his-
fist suspended in the air, while his face fills with confusion as he looks at the other. "Why aren't you....?"
stops to catch his breath, having more than a little difficulty what with all the damage he's taken. Evidently Francis knocked something-
loose in his head too, because what comes out isn't what he meant to say. He wouldn't say it even sober, ever, not as an explanation or-
even admission. Once it's out, Ludwig grabs onto the front of France's shirt and shoves him roughly, trying to push him off. He's sure his
face is red now, but it really...doesn't matter at this point.
allows himself to be shoved off. He leans back against the coffee table, and just stares at him. He doesn't think he heard him correctly,
but he doesn't question. After a moment, he looks away and fixates his gaze on the wall. He just doesn't know what to do now, though. -
He doesn't have the energy to fight with him for now, even if that was just something said to get him to stop.
rolls onto his side, propping himself on his elbow. He coughs, hanging his head for a moment. "Excuse me."
pulls his legs up to his chest and sets his chin his knees. He glances at him, but he doesn't know how to react to him. "...Okay?"
Ludwig
will
just have to push this right out of his mind. France won't remember this when this is all over. There's no point stressing about something-
he said completely on accident. Just...accident, that was all. He didn't mean it. He couldn't. "I completely forgot you use your-
nails when you fight. Like a woman."
scowls and tosses a coaster from the coffee table at him, albeit weakly. "Shut up. I can fight how I want."
grunts as he climbs up onto his feet again. That stinging he's feeling is definitely from nail marks. Francis really did a decent job-
on him, judging by how half his body's throbbing. "Yes. I know. You've done so for many years, and you see where it gets you."
doesn't know how to take that, so he just shrugs and makes no effort to get up. "...It does get better, after this, right?"
isn't sure if he should honestly answer that or not. Obviously it gets better than how it is in this France's time. But there are still-
conflicts and tension. "Better than it is now, yes. Of course."
nods after a moment, then finally gets up and rubs his hands on his shirt, as if they're dirty. "That's good. Ouais..."
's head hurts with all of this. As much as he wants to turn his back until France is himself again, he turns around and reaches for him. -
"You need to lay down. It may be possible to sleep this off." Something. Anything, any solution to correct this.
tenses up, but not as much as he would have earlier. He won't pull away if Ludwig actually touches him. "Alright... I'll try." -
Francis
will
head upstairs to his room, now.
isn't going to follow him. There's no way he can lay down with *that*, even if he's the same physically. He's just going to sit down-
on the couch for right now.
sort of trusts this Ludwig more than the other, but that doesn't stop him from locking the door before laying down and eventually sleeping.
takes a *lot* longer to relax. He's glad when there aren't any noises from upstairs after awhile; maybe that means Francis laid down and-
fell asleep for once. Even if he wakes up still in the wrong mindset, sleep might do him good. He might be more rational. ...then-
again, probably not. Ludwig can't remember how it was reasoning with him back then, if any attempts were made. Their politicians did-
all the legwork. They were only required to interact in social situations. Alone, there were no negotiations, only harassment and-
intimidation. This and more is what Ludwig drifts off thinking of, new bruises dully aching in time with older wounds, ghosts of real-
pain.
Francis
is
somehow able to sleep dreamlessly. Dead sleep would be the best term to describe it, with the way he hardly moves at all in his sleep.-
When he finally wakes, the only light in his room is the little bit leaking in from the streetlight. He doesn't get up for a while though,
and when he does, he peeks into the living room to see if Ludwig is still here, before he moves to the kitchen.
Ludwig
is
still there, but hasn't moved off the couch. He's still asleep, in fact, just sitting upright with his head back.
isn't going to wake him. He's just going to find something in the kitchen to cook. The kitchen is fully stocked, but eating isn't going-
to take away that starving feeling. He'll try anyway, though.
stirs somewhat, but just enough to lean all the way over sideways and continue sleeping.
moves about and finds things to prepare. After so long without *real* food, he's almost in heaven.
frowns and pulls his legs up onto the couch as well, then rolls over facing the back of it.
isn't going to go in there and wake him. He's content with staying in the kitchen until he's finished, then he'll just head upstairs.
Ludwig
will
probably sleep through the rest of the night like that, without anything to wake him up.
Francis
will
eventually go back to sleep, and stay up there. He'll try to wait out up there and wait for Ludwig to wake up in leave...
might make it through the entire night or he might not. He really isn't sure what time it is when he wakes up, only that he's somewhere-
unfamiliar, somewhere he didn't fall asleep. He would never sleep on the *couch*, so out in the open. For the first half an hour after-
waking, Ludwig just sits there, staring blankly at the wall across from him.
moves about upstairs for a bit, but after he finds a pack of Gauloises, he feels inclined to go into the backyard to smoke. He hasn't-
forgotten that Ludwig's there by any means, so he walks along the wall to get to the backdoor. Regardless of if he's different or not,-
Francis still can't shake off that fear of him.
looks up at the sound of movement, head turning to find and track him. When he realizes who he's watching, he turns around completely.-
"What are you doing here?" It would not surprise him if France were trying to plan some revolt. His people are still behaving terribly.
freezes immediately, alarmed by that *tone*. "This is my house, sir..." (battery's dying)
( kay. gonna post then sleep. )
(sleep well and have a good day tomorrow! i'll tag back when i get to the hotel <3)
stands up and moves around the couch. "You must be mistaken. I would never set foot in *your* house, let alone sleep in it while you are-
still present. You cannot be trusted while your people are still revolting."
( thanks, you too. o/ <3 )
swallows thickly. "...Well, I would think that if this was your home, you wouldn't have that flag framed on your wall...Maybe *you're*-
mistaken...sir." (1.30 am and I *finally* get my room. Also, they charge $5/night for net. So. I'll be on my phone all weekend.)
glances around. France is right, but that isn't soothing in the least. "...you drugged me."
might start panicking here in a moment. "Sir, I would never do such a thing."
[actually dude, disregard that. i was too tired last night to notice the wireless password paper stuck in the key sleeve thing]
isn't advancing any farther. He learned long ago that it's easy to intimidate these people without brute force. "I think you did. How else
would I have gotten here? But no matter. This place certainly does not meet our standards. Take that flag down."
shakes his head. "I swear I didn't." He's not going to try to explain the day before, not when he can hardly believe it himself. -
He doesn't move from where he is. He glances down at his cigarette pack, and after noting what it's attributed to, he speaks up again. "No."
cocks his head slightly, staring France down like a particularly interesting bug specimen. "You will remove it or I will have it removed.-
And destroyed. If you take it down yourself, you may set it aside in a closet or the attic. Anyway do long as it is out of sight." See?-
They weren't unreasonable men. They gave alternatives.
stands there for a long moment, unable to decide on what he should do. Taking it down is like surrendering all over again. But-
inaction would result in his flag's destruction. It's just cotton, safely kept behind a sheet of glass, but it represents him, his-
people, and everything he believes in...so finally, he moves over to the wall and takes it down, intending to take it to the hall closet.
Ludwig
will
let him hide the flag wherever he wants. It's just a piece of worthless fabric anyway. It was the symbolism that bothered him. He nods,
satisfied. "Good. Now when was the last time this building was properly searched?"
doesn't know. But he's rather Germany not go through his things. "A few days ago, I believe."
keeps his arms crossed to avoid touching anything. "You have proof? I do not recall your private residence appearing in my paperwork."
obviously *doesn't*, but he'll try bluffing anyway. "...I'm never given copies of paperwork concerning myself, but I can-
fully describe the man who conducted the search, and give his name."
glances toward him. "I'm sure you could. But it would take a simple phonecall, provided you have such luxuries, to find out. I would suggest
honesty in these matters, Frankreich. We have been lenient and tolerant thus far. Please do not push the Reich into more drastic action. You
know as well as I how easily the Reichsführer can be provoked into action."
hesitates for a moment. Of course he doesn't want a crackdown, or anything that could jeopardize the safety of his people. "Honestly-
I do not know when this place has been last searched. I have no idea what you'll find."
finally turns his full attention on him. He doesn't need to remind France of the repercussions should their inspectors find contraband-
or worse. "I imagine that you would have some idea of what I might find if you are sheltering enemies."
shifts uncomfortably. He doesn't know how to go about explaining the reasons why he doesn't know what's kept here, now. "...The only other-
living things here apart from us are a bird and kitten." That he's seen...
nods and starts moving off through the house. "Then you should have no issues with a routine search."
grunts in agreement. Even when he knew his house was clean, this made him nervous; this is twice as stressful. He'll follow and watch.
isn't as destructive as most search units. He moved through at a leisurely pace, opening each door he came to and either observing from the
doorway or stepping in to look through closets if he so chose. Whichever one looked like France's bedroom, that was where he was taking the
longest, actually pushing things aside and disrupting things. France should be thankful it was him instead of te Einsatzgruppen. They left
destruction in their wake. After the closet, he stopped and nodded towards the drawers. "Open and empty all of them."
won't admit that he appreciates that. It's always a horrible pain to clean up after other searches. Especially when something particularly-
cherished got distroyed, or just disappeared. He wishes now he had gone through the drawers himself earlier, because he has no-
idea what could be hidden in there amongst all the clothing. He knows there's probably going to be several things in there, probably in-
the back corners, things that are meant to stay hidden. And sure enough, once he starts pulling the drawers out and emptying them on-
the bed, various objects appear out too, including a handgun, various items that are blatantly sexual in nature, and a multicoloured-
envelope that looks a bit larger than what he's used to seeing, but not overly so. It's definitely got something in it, but he doesn't-
move to touch that, or anything else.
's mouth tightens in its perpetual frown once things start coming out. He ignores the more private things; again, another instance France
should be thankful he's dealing with a nation. Ludwig's men would ridicule him for those, perhaps even use them on him and force him to-
submit. Ludwig takes the gun immediately and dismantles it, keeping a spare part to prevent France from ever using it again. "The envelope-
as well. Open it." Or be damned a conspirator.
watches him dismantle the gun, and canmt help but feel disappointed he didn't find that sooner. He would have used it on him, and maybe-
all of this could have been prevented, if not postponed. He picks up the envelope and opens it, pulling out the contents. It's -
a stack of photos, of much better quality than he's ever seen. One glance at the timestamp explains why, He goes through them,-
immediately uncomfortable, simply because of the Germany before him. This'd be somewhat easier if he remained like yesterday.
doesn't outwardly fidget like his older self would. His face goes rather red, but aside from that and his jaw tightening, he doesn't appear
all that upset. Watching those pictures does make him more than a little uncomfortable though. "What are those, Frankreich? I knew you were
promiscuous, but this is far below the levels of a common whore."
Francis
has
to glance over to look at them. "Ah...I don't know." Even like this, he likes those, but Germany's reaction makes him feel dirty. -
But surely these photos can't get any worse.
Ludwig
has
no trouble ignoring France's physical attractiveness. Until his country is united under the Vichy regime, he's little more than a stray
dog right now. He needs to be taught a little class and educated on what is best for his people. He needs to become the leader that he-
obviously is not. "Then again, I do not know why I am surprised. You..." Oh look. The pictures do get worse. There's a second person in
some if these and it...it looks incredibly like him. Except for a few scars. Those, he doesn't have.
blinks down at these other photos. So the other Germany wasn't lying about their spending time together in the future. He isn't-
sure how he should feel about it, though. "I suppose it is good to know that you're rather flexible, sir." Not the best thing to say.
clips him right on the chin with his fist without a moment's hesitation. "Where did you...that isn't me! I don't know what you're planning,
but a physical examination will disprove these pictures entirely! I don't have those scars!" The pictures are obviously fake; they have to-
be. But what if France is planning to blackmail him? He and Brandt have been so careful. Frankreich could ruin everything by presenting-
these pictures. They'll send him to a labor camp. They'd do it to Rohm too, if they had concrete evidence like this. Excuse him while he
panicks and attempts to pocket all of those shots. There are just so many...
swears and grabs at his chin. That made his jaw pop, too, so after a moment he's rubbing the side of his face. He shouldn't say anything -
more, really. But he finds himself unable to keep his mouth shut...which really isn't new. "Sir, what if you have those scars and don't -
realise it? What if...this time isn't really what we think it is? I mean no disrespect but that really...really does look like you." -
Clearly, in the past few moments, he's forgotten his place.
could hit him again. He wants to lash out and shut him up for good. This situation is entirely his doing, and now that he's caught up in it,
he's trying to come up with ridiculous excuses. "I believe I know my own body! That cannot be me. I would never...that is absurd. You sound-
as ignorant as the Reichsführer when he starts in about the occult-" He catches himself immediately, mouth snapping shut. Silence lapses for
a minute before he finishes. It was an accidental slip, that's all. Not truly an insult; there was no derision in his voice when he spoke of
the Führer's second. "Whatever you have, I want all of it. Every single picture, or you can expect the Gestapo on your doorstep with my-
brother in the morning. I believe you two know each other quite well."
keeps his eyes locked on the photos, even after that slip. He'll be somewhat respectful here and pretend like he didn't hear that. He's more
focused on the former, anyway. He wouldn't care about them, if it it weren't for them belonging to his future self. Seemingly poor tastes in
men or not, those were his. And since Germany isn't being as overbearing as he usually is at the moment, he's still able to keep in mind of-
all the conversations he's had within the past couple days. He still has a hard time believing it a lot of it, but that's all he really has-
to hold onto at this point. "I saw him a couple days ago, actually. He said you lose the war and his country gets dissolved." And no, he's-
not making any move to see if there are move photos to hand over.
's hand tightens on the current picture, crumpling it so that all the flesh tones are crushed together. Despite how badly he wants to-
smash France's teeth in at this point, he smiles thinly. "That is insane. Nations are not simply dissolved, especially not when they are-
as powerful as Prussia. And *that* is the only force capable of defeating the Reich, were they so inclined. Where are the rest of the-
photos?"
really can't argue this, not when he doesn't know anything more than what he's been told. "It is rude to call your brother out as a liar,-
sir." He knows he's going to pay for running his mouth like this, but he's okay with that for now, for the sake of trying to shake the other
up, if he's even capable of that. "I don't know. Probably all over. I might have already mailed some out, too..."
's smile, if it wasn't already frigid enough, loses what little humor it had in the first place. "You are the only liar here. You are-
remarkably thick, but you would not do anything so stupid." Another step closer puts him right in France's face, easily within range to-
throttle him.
instinctively takes a step back to put more space between them. Unfortunately, another two steps and he'll be against the armoire. "I'm not-
lying." He swallows. "I think it's rather ingenious. If it got to Angleterre, he could make copies and distribute them throughout Europe.."
's going to back him up as far as he can before he grabs on to France's shirtfront. "Idiot. This is the thousand-year Reich. We will-
control Europe in a matter of years, and then the world. And you are far too submissive to stop any of this. You have always been-
too submissive, too willing to bow down. We are giving you the opportunity to grow a *spine*. Give me the rest of the pictures, or I-
Ludwig
will
make this miserable for you."
inwardly curses when his back bumps against the armoire. He looks to the floor, not at all worried about his shirt getting stretched out. "I
seem to recall a time where *you* were under me." Though that didn't end well, did it? "I don't have them. What's there's all there is."
shoves him back as soon as there's something solid there. He doesn't care how it hurts France to be bent back like that; the point is that-
it's *intended* to be uncomfortable. "And yet we see where are you now. How the mighty have fallen. What else is there here, Frankreich?=
Other weapons at least, I'm sure. That could be considered contraband. I could arrest you."
frowns, and tries to move away from where he's at. It's probably impossible to do so, but he'll still make his attempt. "I don't know what-
else is here. ...This house is set in the *future* so I can't be responsible for what's in it or not." He's well aware of how crazy that -
sounds.
Ludwig
will
help him move by giving him a violent shove in whatever direction he's trying to go. "Then I suggest you spend the rest of the afternoon-
finding out where everything is. That will make it much easier for your guests tomorrow. Now that I think of it, since they will be in-
the area, we may as well have you entire neighborhood inspected. I would not make any outlandish excuses to them, by the way."
knocks his hip into the corner of a nearby desk as he stumbles forward, but he makes no sound straightens. "Who are you going to have -
come over, sir? I was told by the other you yesterday that it's two thousand ten. Anyone you'd have come search is probably long gone."
resumes picking up pictures, this time cramming them down into the envelope. "Be quiet, Frankreich. You could come up with a better-
story to save your sorry ass."
Francis
is
quiet for a moment, but this is due to him taking a moment to look out of his window. "I'm not making it up. Haven't you noticed everything-
Francis
is
different?"
hasn't been out of France's house or even taken the time to look out a window. ...actually, he hasn't taken the time to look at anything-
but France and his closets, considering them all potential threats. "You are. And you are terrible at story-telling. Come up with-
something new."
frowns for a moment. It's not like he was expecting Germany to believe him, anyway. But he's not getting a full-on beating right now, so he-
decides to continue talking. "I am not. If you'd look outside, the automobiles out look completely alien. I could tell you what I was told-
last night." ...Not really. That goes way past his comfort zone, and that'd probably land him with a real beating.
crosses his arms. "You could have easily tampered with our surroundings to sell this story." He hadn't seen anything *that* extreme yet,-
but people would sink to all levels when their lives were on the line.
keeps looking out the window. "I think it'd be like this anywhere you go. I couldn't possibly tamper with the whole world, could I?"
scowls but still doesn't spare a glance towards the window. He isn't falling for any outlandish bullshit. "Shut up. That's entirely=
impossible."
shrugs. "It was once thought impossible to sail around the world. And now people fly around it..."
slammed the drawer shut on the rest of France's private items, tucked the envelope of pictures under his arm, and started for the door.-
"Wax poetic on your own time. If you are not home tomorrow, the investigation will still occur. It would be in your best interest to be-
present." And sending them in was just punishment now. France would be made an example of for trying to convince him of something that-
Ludwig
was
, quite frankly, impossible. They wouldn't lose this war; they wouldn't fail.
jumps upon hearing the drawer slam. Had he been watching Germany, this wouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. He glances back and-
watches Germany's back. Maybe he'll actually *leave*. That'd be nice. But at the same time, he would fear for anyone who came into contact-
with him. "I'll be sure to pull out my nice china and serve coffee and cake."
stops right in the hallway. He's irritated enough to continue on out of here and see whether or not France has actually gone to extremes-
just to convince him. But that snide tone just grates right up his spine. He turns back half way, scowling. "China is a luxury. Except-
to lose that tomorrow. And anything else of value."
figures there's no point in saying that won't happen. But...maybe it will. Now that he thinks of it, he could easily wake back up in his-
normal time, just in time for a raid. So he's not going to push it. He just nods and looks back to the window. "Yes sir."
Ludwig
will
actually leave this time. It doesn't take him long to discover that France really wasn't lying, but he won't swallow pride enough to go-
back in there looking for help. There's something very wrong with the world and the time period, but he'll struggle through it without-
asking for assistance.
makes a round of the house and to lock all the doors and windows. He doesn't want any unwelcome visitors, again. Once that is done, he-
hunts down another book to read. It occurs to him that he ought to get in touch with someone, like Belgique, or...even Prusse, since he -
wasn't like the one he knew, either, but he isn't sure how to go about that in a timely manner. The technology in this time is too confusing
.