♬ 001 { accidental video }

[leavemariaalone]

[He's woken up in Salkia Park, just as injured and bruised as he was after the war, granted his wounds have been dressed with the exceptions for the scrapes and splotches on his face. Amidst all the layers he's wearing, he's yet to notice that he's sitting on a strange, not-18th-century object that has turned on and is taping the grass, hello grass, nice to meet you.]

--on Earth am I?

[He shifts around, moving to get up but lord he is much too tired to do it right the first two times, groaning when he tries.] This is ridiculous! That pompous idiot couldn't have done that much damage! [Frustrated, he at least pushes himself up, switching to sitting on his knees--ow, bad idea, the thighs, they aches--and leaning forward against a bench. Now the video can see this, his bent back and heavy breathing.]

Ngh...that wheelchair wouldn't be too terrible of an idea right about now. [Now he looks back, just to take in his surroundings, when he notices the LP. He reaches for it, grimacing as he does, and lifts it from the ground, staring at it all puzzled-like.]

Such an odd object...one of England's, perhaps. [His eyes flick to the corner, and his brows furrow together tighter.] A key? I've never seen one like it... [He makes to put it gently on the bench, but moves too fast, ouch war wounds, and drops it on the wood instead, ending the transmission.]

Comments

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

It's me, Aussie! Christ, pay attention, would ya? Where are ya, mate, I'll come give ya a hand.

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

Aussie...? [Now he's just frustrated and in pain.] I assure, you, I've no idea who you are, therefore it is impossible that you are acquainted with me!

[...but the offer of help is tempting] I...I doubt a hand would help me.

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

... [I don't have a sadface icon appropriate enough for Australia's current expression, so use your imagination.] Australia? I used to be England's colony? Between the South Pacific and Indian oceans? What year is it?

I'll give you two.

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

I'm not aware of any colonies he has in those waters. America appears to be of his top and only concern. [again with the year-asking, how strange] It's 1748, although that oughtn't matter to you.

...That is a kind offer, I suppose. [he's already resigned himself to talking to an inanimate object, how much worse could it get?]

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

[Oh bitch did not just go there.] America isn't- [My England, miiiiine- Oh, fuck it.] It's 2010. We're all from different points in history.

... I'll be there in a tick. [Because even if you're suddenly annoying, he can't leave a mate in need.]

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

Two thousand...[he hisses something in French] That's impossible, there is no such thing! [never mind that he's suddenly appeared on an island]

A tick? Australia, if that is your name, I've no idea what this "tick" is, nor to I intend to find out! [not that he's in any sort of position to protest, not at all, he's barely able to move from his spot over the bench]

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

[Ignoring you! And heading to the park to find you. He does eventually spot you by your bench.] Oi, Roddy! G'day, mate!

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

[Fantastic, he stiffens up, grinding his teeth as he does. He makes the mistake of looking back at him, with all those owies on his face, and the first thing he notices are the eyebrows. If he didn't believe he was one of England's...well, now he did.]

Kindly refrain from using that name. [And with a huff he turns back to glaring at the LP, suddenly re-interested in that key.] And your manner of language has much left to be desired. [Grumpy monarchy is grumpy, he hasn't had the best past seven years, war sucks, especially against Prussia.]

Sorry, ran out to lunch.

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

Yeah, yeah, you and Pomland are just the same. I'll talk how I want and what's wrong with a nickname?

... [Taking stock of those injuries now.] Who were you fighting?

S'kay <3

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

Pom... [He shakes his head, he'll just file this oddness under the 'It's English' category.]

[And those are just the ones not covered by his over 9000 layers. Rolling his shoulder back, giving it a good pop, he clenches his jaw while he thinks of an appropriate answer.] ...No one worth mentioning.

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

S'pose so, you Europeans were always fighting each other anyway. [Pokes him.] What's your key say? We can patch you up at your place.

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

[He huffs haughtily.] You have certain morons to thank for that. [Ow, poking. He perks a bit, glances back at Australia, and plucks the key from his LP.] My 'place'? You mean to inform me that I've quartering in this odd land? [And things just keep getting worse, but if it's free he supposes he can't complain.]

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

Dunno 'bout quartering, mate, but they shoulda given you a place to have a kip. This Salkia sheila, sounds like she's at least trying to be nice. She's really bad at it, but points for trying!

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

[...He will never understand how English can be so strange, and that confusion is evident on his face.] A what? A kip, a sheila, what on earth are you going on about? [And here he thought Prussia was odd with that 'awesome' word...]

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

[Calling this "English" might be a stretch.] A place to sleep, Rod. And the name of this place is Salkia, se- America says she's a little girl. Haven't seen her myself yet.

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

A young girl...? A colony, perhaps? [He does find it odd the way America is being talked about, but perhaps he's thinking too far into it.] No matter, we'll deal with that later. Are you going to assist me or not?

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

No one owns her yet. And yeah, yeah, it's why I came. Can you walk?

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

[That 'yet' brings a displeased expression to his face, but he doesn't comment.] ...In some instances, yes. I would appreciate it if you would help me stand, for starters.

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

[If it helps, if Australia gets his hands on her he'll just spoil her rotten and then help her get independent before when she's ready and then shower her in aid.]

Come on then, upsa-daisy. [Wraps an arm around Austria, moves Austria's arm around Aussie's shoulder and then lifts.]

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

[Overseas parenting, what is this. But that's friggin adorable dalfds]

Upsa--? [And he wobbles, instinctively clenching his fist around Aussie's clothes. Ow ow ow, stupid Prussia.] Is that some...term of yours?

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

Can't remember if Pommie says it too, but yeah. [Tries to hold Austria steady.] Easy now, mate, we're not in any rush.

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

O-of course we're not! [He huffs and slowly releases him, but he's still as tense as he ever was. Which one was the better leg? Right, it was the left, maybe, so he'll be leaning on that one. Either way, it hurts, and he grimaces.] Ah--the key. [Glancing behind him, it's still attached to the LP, which is still on the bench. Fuck his life.]

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

Where is- oh, fucking hell. One tick, mate, try and hold yourself up and I'll grab it.

[leavemariaalone.livejournal.com]

[Really, those words weren't makng any sense to him, but by the tone he assumed they were just about as vulgar as whatever England's pirates might say. Not that he'd met any, personally, he'd like to avoid that.] Hmph. [And so he removes himself from Australia, wibbling and wobbling before he found a semi-steady stance. Imagine the court, Austria, no one would near pleased to see you like this.]

[withgoldensoil.livejournal.com]

[Man, Aus wishes he was cool enough to have pirates. Instead he just got starving Irishmen who were unlucky enough to get caught stealing bread. Still just as vulgar though. Anyway, he grabs the key and 1337pod once he's able to move without pushing Austria around and immediately reaches out to steady the European again and smile encouragingly.] Right, mate?