So, this is another piece I wrote for the Hetalia Kink Meme. The prompt was paintballing and America blackmailing all the nations into playing. I realized I never finished it and I felt bad. So I decided to finish it and put it up for anyone who cared to read it. Damn, I feel accomplished.
Warnings: language, poor descriptions/understanding of paintball, chaos, insanity, nice/weak nations turned badass
Pairings: None, surprisingly.
Characters: A lot (almost all the nations I believe...)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"This is all your fault, you useless tosser!"
"Now, now, Iggy. It's only a game. You're just upset you got out so early."
"You got out the same time as I did, you bastard!" The sandy-haired Brit snarled, grasping America by the leather of his bomber jacket and dragging the taller man down to eye-level. "And this entire thing was your stupid idea! Paintball? What the bloody fuck were you thinking?"
"…That this way everyone could get out their aggression without actually going to war?" America grinned sheepishly, sky-blue eyes twinkling.
"Well, Finland is definitely getting out all his aggression. He's taken out at least half of us." Denmark drawled from where he was sprawled next to a sulking Sweden. The silent gentle giant was currently sitting, arms wrapped around his knees that were tucked under his chin. His face was dark and a black cloud seemed to have settled right above his pale blond hair and he was muttering, "Min fru förrådde mig. Varför, Finland?"
Both he and Denmark were covered in splotches of silver paint, Finland's color. They weren't alone. Norway and Iceland sat on the other side of Sweden, also covered in silver.
"…Well, that's seems rather…unexpected." England muttered, absently letting go of America's jacket.
Denmark gave a bark of laughter. "You forget, he also managed to keep Russia at bay back in the war. Of course, didn't think he'd shoot Sverige. Maybe you should stop referring to him as your wife?" He laughed, draping his arm against Sweden's shoulders.
"Dra åt helvete Danmark."
"Canada ne m'etonne pas." France announced as he and China approached the rest of the nations. The normally impeccably dressed nations looked unkempt, covered in twigs and leaves, and were covered in splotches of red paint. "Il est incroyable."
"Who?" America asked.
"Ca-na-da! Your brother, Amerique." France reproached, brushing back a few golden curls that had fallen in front of his face with a manicured hand.
"I believe he's set up a sniper post somewhere, aru." China muttered, sulkily pulling out leaves from his black hair.
"What? I don't believe it!"
" 'E got you two out. Mais, you were too busy arguing to notice that Canada was behind you."
"And how do you know that, you ponce?"
"Ohohoho~ Wouldn't you like to know, cher Angleterre?"
"Aw, don't even fucking start you two." A brash voice cut through, effectively halting the two European nations. Prussia stomped angrily towards the other nations, paintball gun leaning against his shoulder.
"Hey, you're supposed to drop that once you get out!" America shouted, pointing at the white-haired former nation. "Wait a second! You're not even supposed to have one! You're not a nation anymore."
"Did you really think I would stay at West's house and miss this? Hah!" Prussia cackled, tossing the gun to the ground. "So, this is the dead zone."
"Who got you out?"
A pale blush stole across Prussia's face and he looked away, coughing embarrassedly.
England crossed his arms and grinned wickedly. "Sorry, didn't catch that."
"The Italians." Prussia muttered.
"Who?" France asked, mimicking England's grin. He heard Prussia the first time, but when else would such a perfect opportunity come up?
"I said, the Italians!" Prussia snapped, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. There was a beat of silence and then every nation burst into laughter.
"It's quiet. Too quiet." Germany murmured, holding his paintball gun close to him as he leaned against a tall oak. Years of military experience that he thought he had forgotten had rushed back to him the moment America passed him a gun. He'll admit he had his doubts about this entire thing. Rarely did America have a good idea (this was the same nation that suggested a laser defense system for the Earth and baconnaise sandwiches and to have a giant robot stitch up the hold in the ozone layer in just the last world conference) and he didn't the have the best track record in improving international relations.
But, so far, everything seemed to be going well. The area chosen for the paintball match was enormous and wooded. There were even platforms high in the canopy of trees and Germany had passed over a stream a while back.
And he hadn't seen Italy or Italy's older brother yet.
Yes, everything was going well.
"There you are Germany~ I was looking everywhere for you!" Italy cried as he ran over to the tall blond, armed with only a small white flag. With an ecstatic "Ve~", the smaller man launched himself at Germany and nuzzled his face into his chest armor.
The taller man rolled his eyes heavenward and sighed. Letting his gun drop, he placed on hand on Italy's shoulder and asked, "Where did you leave your gun? And why aren't you wearing your protective mask or goggles?"
Italy laughed and looked up at the irritated German. "I don't need them when I'm with Germany. I know Germany will protect me~"
A pale pink blush stole across Germany's cheeks. "You fool! I can't always protect you!"
A slow grin rolled across Italy's face and his bright eyes sparkled with a strange gleam and Germany's eyes widened. For a moment there, the normally carefree and cowardly Italian looked…dangerous.
"Ve~ I know that! Especially because you'll be out soon~"
"Prendi questo, bastardo mangia-patate!"
Germany stiffened as he heard someone burst out from the shrubbery behind him and he wrenched himself away from the small Italian's hold. Whirling around, he didn't even have time to aim as a barrage of paintballs hit him.
"Ciao bastardo~" Romano mocked, whirling around, errant curl bouncing in the air as he cackled, disappearing into the foliage.
"You!" Germany stared slack-jawed, not even noticing that Italy had skipped off silently the moment his brother had started firing. The pale-haired man stared disbelievingly at the green paint splattered across his front.
"Verdammt." He muttered, throwing down his gun, goggles, and mask and heading off to the dead zone.
Canada shifted slightly against the sturdy wooden railing of the platform. It was one of the many platforms in the area, but it was also the highest. And the moment he saw it, he'd knew it be perfect for a sniper's post.
Now, not many nations realized, but Canada was excellent at sniping. His people were good at sniping. One of his boys broke the last record, hitting the target at 2310 feet and then it was also one of his boys that beat that record again the next at 2400 meters.
8000 feet. Canadians, fuck yeah.
So, this was really a piece of maple cake.
Of course, to get to this tower, he had to get past England and America. But the two were too busy arguing as usual and paid no attention to the bespectacled nation. Normally, Canada would have sighed and just gone on by, swallowing his annoyance.
But this time he didn't want to ignore the heavy anger churning in his stomach. Narrowing his eyes and with a glance that would have terrified Germany and Prussia (because it was the same look he wore at Vimy and Passchendaele and for 100 days straight), he lifted his gun and shot both nations, his lips curving into a victorious grin as two looked shocked, staring down at the red paint bleeding down their armor. And without a backwards glance, Canada walked around the two and began to shimmy up the tree.
Sometimes being invisible had its perks, he supposed, glancing down. Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he saw the bushes rustle briefly. Eyes narrowed behind his goggles, Canada didn't even think twice as he swiftly readjusted his gun and fired three times into the bushes.
Japanese swearing rose up from where Canada had fired and the blond nation smirked as Japan rose through the bushes and removed his gear and dropped his gun.
Even high as he was, he could see the carefully restrained anger in Japan's movements.
"Canada-san." The quiet Asian nation spoke, dark eyes flicking upwards to the trees. "That is hardly honorable."
"But it's quite impressive, nonetheless." Japan said grudgingly, turning on his heels, not even glancing down at the red splotches on his outfit. "You got England and America out too?"
"And France and China and Cuba and England and America and Korea." Canada shouted, his normally quiet voice echoing amongst the trees. Japan began to walk away.
"And you of course~"
Japan's lips curved downward as Canada's laughter rang out and he sighed. He was much too old for this.
Finland quietly crouched amongst the shrubbery, not even breathing lest he attract Canada's attention. The younger nation had set up a sniper's post (stealing his original plan) and a damn good one in his opinion. In this area the platforms blended in with the lush canopies of the trees and one would have to be directly under a platform to see it.
They'd have to be in the direct line of sight for the sniper.
So Finland kept quiet, watching as Japan departed for the dead zone with Canada's cheerful and slightly manic laughter swirling around them. Finland couldn't help but grin too.
"Tämä on hauskempaa kuin luulin." He chuckled, eyes darting around and ears straining to hear anything, something. But it was silent. Sure, he did have to shoot him brothers (he still felt a little guilty, especially after seeing the shock and betrayal in Sweden's normally terrifying eyes. In fact, he'd probably need to make it up to the fair-haired nation) but they couldn't be that upset about it, right? Okay, so maybe he should watch out for Norway (some paint had gotten into the quiet nation's hair).
But, it needed to be done. Licking his lips, the Finn shifted minutely on the balls of his heels, pulling his gun closer to him.
And the sudden soft cocking of a gun was his only warning. Propelling backwards on his heels, he stared in surprise and admiration at the barrage of paintballs that struck the spot he had previously been crouching in. The red paint gleamed wetly in the scattered sunlight, serving as a vivid reminder that Finland was not alone.
And Canada knew he wasn't alone.
Quietly, Finland glanced in the direction he thought the paintballs had come from and ducked behind the tree next to him. Keeping his back against the bark, he stared out in front of him, making sure no one was coming.
He wasn't worried about behind him. Canada would probably shoot the unlucky bastard before he even reached Finland.
"Hello Canada!" He shouted warmly.
"Ah, Finland, its you, eh?" The Canadian replied. "I was hoping you were Russia."
"I was looking for him too. We have some unfinished 'business'." Finland said liltingly, his kind face turning dark as a vicious smile formed on his lips.
"Oh. When you find him, do you think you could shoot him once for me? I'm still a little bitter about the whole Arctic thing. And our last hockey game."
"Alright." Finland shouted. He knew Canada wasn't planning on coming down anytime soon. And Canada was a sweet boy. He didn't mind shooting that Russian son-of-a-bitch extra times anyways. Without saying good-bye to the blond sniper, Finland headed back into the thickly wooded area, hoping to find Russia.
"Nyt, missä hän voisi piileskellä?" Finland murmured, dodging trees and jumping over low bushes.
"Brother, after we're finished with this ridiculous activity, could we get married?" Belarus asked softly, pale eyes glimmering with hope and mental instability, as she tucked away her gun (having just finished firing a round of white paintballs and taking out Austria, who had unfortunately gotten separated from Hungary and was very lost and looking put-out because his immaculate camo armor and cravat and Mariazell were splattered with white paint) and turning to face Russia.
Unfortunately for her, Russia had silently fled while she was busy with Austria, leaving only a lingering scent of vodka (which Belarus inhaled deeply, clutching her gun to her chest).
"I'll find you brother." Belarus murmured. "And then we'll get married!"
"I don't think so." A feminine voice snarled out. Belarus turned to viciously glare at whoever interrupted her daydreams that revolved around her favorite brother and came face to face with a livid Hungary.
"What did you do to Austria?" The woman hissed, normally gentle eyes burning with rage. Belarus almost took a step back. Hungary growled, "You'll pay."
And Austria looked on, outwardly disinterested. But inwardly the pianist was reeling with admiration and awe and terror as he watched Hungary mercilessly take down Belarus, pink paint flying everywhere.
At least she didn't have her frying pan with her.
And none of the three nations were prepared for the Italian battle cry that resounded around them and the twins that ran past following it, guns blazing, leaving splotchy trails of green in their wake.
As soon as the assault began, it ended, and the trio stared dazedly in the direction the Italians had ran in.
"That was certainly unexpected." Austria noted. The two women nodded, shock etched on their faces.
Elsewhere, Russia was dodging under branches and around trees, hoping to get a generous head start on Belarus. Finally, the large nation came to a clearing and slowed down, a slightly evil grin spreading across his face when he saw who was in the clearing.
"Estonia, Latvia. Isn't this a lovely coincidence, da?" The larger nation asked, childish voice brimming with joy and hinting at pain.
Estonia froze and Latvia began to tremble. With a wide grin, Russia moved closer to his former pris—I mean housemates. Yeah, housemates.
And it was during that time Finland arrived at the clearing, and seeing the three nations, he quickly ducked behind a tree. With narrowed eyes, the Finn watched as Russia moved closer to the two who had now raised their guns in the air and pointed them at the larger man. Finland grinned.
"Now you two wouldn't actually shoot me?" Russia asked cheerfully, lavender eyes twinkling with amused irritation.
"We would, that is the point of this whole activity." Estonia said coolly.
"And shooting you is worth those pictures America has of last year's Christmas party." Finland said, stepping out from the shadows of the tree, gun pointed straight at Russia.
Russia turned fully to face Finland, now looking more unamused than amused.
"This is for invading me, you bastard." Finland snarled, all the gentleness that Estonia and Latvia were used to seeing in him had disappeared, leaving in its place an embittered soldier.
Russia merely smiled and cocked his own gun towards the smaller man. "You shoot me, I'll take you down too~"
"It'll be worth it." With a growl, the Finn started to pull the trigger when the sound of firing filled the air.
Estonia and Finland stared as Russia slowly reached around, feeling the area where the paintballs had struck. His fingers came back yellow.
And he turned to stare incredulously at Latvia, who was no longer quivering like a leaf in a hurricane.
Instead he was glaring at Russia, eyes narrowed with hate and new bravery.
"Es tevi ienīstu. Man riebās Dzīvot tavā mājā. Arī saulespuķes es ienīstu!" The small nation spat out.
"Latvia?" Russia said, sounding unsure and in awe.
"Are you alright?" Estonia asked, leaning away slightly from his younger brother.
"Es jūtos labi." Latvia said with an unnaturally peaceful smile. In the blink of an eye, he turned his weapon on Estonia and fired once. Estonia blinked down at the yellow spot on his armor as Latvia began to chuckle quietly.
Finland didn't even blink as he lifted his gun and fired at Latvia.
"I think Latvia has been out for too long. Get him some water if you would, Estonia please?" Finland said, going into mother hen mode.
"And you," He snarled, pointing at Russia, "This" here he pointed at Latvia who Estonia was gently leading away "is your fault. You'd better behave yourself or else I'll make the Winter War look like child's play."
And with those final threatening words, Finland disappeared into the foliage.
Back at the Dead Zone (which was getting increasingly more crowded), the nations were getting restless.
"Who is still in?" England asked, shifting uncomfortably where he was sitting.
"Canada, Finland, les deux Italiens, Espagne, Switzerland et sa sœur, et aussi…" France trailed off. "Je sais pas."
"You're useless, frog."
"Both of you shut up." Several nations snapped.
"This is so not fair!" America groaned (to the annoyance of all the other nations) "This was my idea! I'm the hero! I should still be in!"
"This was a stupid idea, aru." China sulked from where he was sitting, squashed, between Korea and Hong Kong. "And I demand those pictures back, aru."
"I want the pictures from April Fools day."
"And I want the ones you have of New Years."
"And give me back my spell book, you bastard!"
America ignored them all. "I mean, Canada is still in. And the Italies! And Japan and—"
"Actually, I got out almost thirty minutes ago."
"---And Russia and his creepy family."
"Actually, Latvia got Russia and me out." Estonia announced as he entered the Dead Zone. "And then Finland got him out."
Everyone stared at Latvia. The normally twitchy nation had a serene yet crazed look in his eyes and Russia didn't seem to look half as insane and intimidating.
"S-seriously?" Prussia muttered before grinning widely. "That's like West getting taken out by the Italies!"
"Sie haben sich gegen mich verbündet!"
"And they got you out too!"
"We're out too." Hungary said glumly as she entered the area holding hands with Austria and followed by Belarus.
The nations glanced at the trio who were covered in green paint.
America blinked. "What the hell is going on?" He shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Next thing you know Liechtenstein will shoot her own brother."
"Repeat that sentence and I will shoot you dead."
Everyone stared in disbelief as Switzerland walked into the Dead Zone covered in pink splotches. "What?" He snapped defensively, hefting up his gun threateningly. "It's the point of the game." He snarled, the palest of pink blushes stretching across his cheeks.
"I never would've expected it from her." Belgium sighed as Holland and Ukraine nodded in agreement from behind her. All three were covered in pink paint.
"She's good." Holland muttered, lighting a cigarette. "Where's Canada?"
"He's still in. He set up a sniper's post." Cuba said gruffly, eyes shining with pride and irritation.
"Fuck yeah, Canada." Holland grinned.
"I bet Canada is gonna win this!" America crowed. "'Cause he's my brother and he's awesome!"
"Che, yeah right. My money is on Finland. That guy's merciless." Denmark argued.
"It will be the Italies, no doubt." A new voice interrupted and the nations turned to look as a green-coated Spain entered the group and sat down between France and Prussia. The Spaniard sniffled loudly.
"My darling Romano shot me! Él me disparó!" Spain sniffled, dark green eyes shining with unshed tears. "Cuidé de él. Le di los mejores tomates. Acaso mi amor no significa nada para tí?" He wailed.
"We have all been betrayed, mon ami. Finland betrayed Sweden. Liechtenstein betrayed Switzerland. Northern Italy tricked Germany and then let his brother shoot him from behind. Mon fils, Canada, shot me." France murmured sympathetically, wrapping an arm around Spain's shoulders and lifting his shirt with his free hand. Spain paid no mind to the Frenchman groping him as he continued to lament.
"Liet, this is, like, the most stupidest idea ever!" Poland ranted, red-faced, at Lithuania who looked torn between agreeing and calming down the blond. "I could totally be doing something else and instead I'm here, lost in this stupid forest. America told me I would have the chance to shoot Russia but I haven't seen that jerk once."
"Poland—" The brunet tried to calm down his companion, but the blond was having none of it. Continuing to rant, Poland stormed through the trees as Lithuania followed after, ducking below branches, while keeping an eye out for any nations. He had no idea who was still in and it never hurt to be cautious.
Unfortunately, Lithuania didn't realize another nation was in the area until a barrage of red paint came from above, splattering Poland who immediately froze. Lithuania felt a chill travel down his spine as the blond stood still and then shouted, "Do diabła!" Whirling around, Poland snapped, "Who did that?"
"Me, Canada." Came the quiet response.
And, in a chilly voice, Poland asked, "Do you have an idea how long it took to put together a matching outfit? How hard it was to actually make it look good? You bastard! I'm going to make your capital Warsaw!"
Canada did not reply. He was mentally telling himself to inform his Boss that their relations with Poland had probably suffered greatly.
"It's only a game, Poland." Lithuania said calmly. The sound of someone coming out of the bushes forced him to turn around quickly, lifting his gun up to shoot. Without noticing whom his target was, Lithuania fired a round of paintballs and then stared in shock at whom he shot.
"Switzerland is, like, totally going to kill you." Poland mumbled. Liechtenstein only smiled softly.
"It's alright. Bruder knows it's the point of the game." She said sweetly, "Besides, if you hadn't shot me, I would've gotten you out."
"I'm still really sorry. I—" Lithuania was cut off as he felt several paintballs strike his back, followed by Canada apologizing (but not really sounding that apologetic).
"Zabiję go." Poland snarled.
Lithuania just sighed and dropped his gun. "Let's go." He muttered.
Stupid America and his stupid ideas.
Egypt sighed for the 100th time as he watched Turkey and Greece continue to shoot at each other, from close-range. Neither was even concerned about the game anymore or the fact that they were covered in paint. Some of the paintballs had even collided and merged in air, before dropping uselessly to the ground.
"You walking litter box!"
"You're one to talk, you smelly bastard!"
"Your mother was a harlot!"
Greece shrieked something unintelligible in Greek and threw his gun at the other before launching himself at the taller nation. Egypt sighed again as the two nations began punching and kicking and clawing at each other.
"…You're both pathetic."
"Stay out of this!" Both shouted.
None of the three even noticed Finland slink out of the bushes and aim his gun before firing three shots at Egypt before disappearing back into the foliage.
Scowling, Egypt dropped his gun and went over to the brawling nations and tugged them apart. "You can continue fighting at the Dead Zone." He snapped. "Honestly, can you ever not squabble like a bunch of children?"
The two nations looked ashamed for a moment, before Greece muttered, "Great. You pissed off Egypt. You ass."
And Egypt sighed again as Turkey rose to the bait and the squabbling began anew.
He wouldn't even be here for this stupid activity. But America still had those pictures of him…
Canada shifted tiredly. He was laying flat on his back on the wooden platform. He hadn't heard any nation since he got out Poland and Lithuania (noting to himself that he should probably send the Baltic nation a gift, what with shooting him while his back was turned—maybe not the most sportsmanlike thing to do but the guy had a hidden badass side and he did not want to deal with it—maybe something for Poland as well). It was quiet and hot and Canada had no idea who was still in.
"Most of the nations should be out by now." He sighed, pulling off his protective eyewear and rubbing at violet eyes. "I wonder whose left."
The sound of rapid Italian and footsteps pulled Canada out of his musings and he instantly stilled, reaching for his gun.
"But fratello, I'm tired. Can't we just make some pasta?" Veneziano whined, his gun trailing against the ground. "Just a short break?"
Romano sighed irritably and glanced at his pleading brother. The younger Italian's lower lip was stuck out and trembling and his eyes seemed to be damp.
"Fine! Just be on your guard. Canada's set up a sniping post somewhere and Finland is lurking around." He grouched, looking around and Veneziano cheered happily, tossing his gun behind him before falling the ground.
"Ve~ Today was pretty fun!"
"Yeah." Romano said grudgingly, "Looks like that idiot is capable of halfway decent ideas sometimes."
Canada grinned as the brothers moved onto steady conversation and silently stood to take aim at Veneziano.
When Finland moved out of the bushes, aiming his gun at Romano.
"Cazzo!" Romano swore, stepping backwards but not raising his gun. He could only hope that Veneziano would take out Finland quickly. He didn't have much of a chance with Finland aimed to shoot already.
Canada leaned against the handrail of the platform and watched the proceedings with interest. If Finland took out Romano and Veneziano (who was calmly inching towards his gun) took out Finland or vice versa, he could just shoot the one who was remaining.
Romano, who knew exactly where his brother was, grinned and shouted, "Take this!" before jumping backwards and allowing Veneziano to push forward and shoot several rounds at the Scandinavian nation (who had never expected or considered either Italian to be decent at strategy). Finland, though stunned, reacted quickly and fired back a round in defense.
Veneziano stared in shock at the silver paint splattered across his chest as Finland did the same with the green paint adorning his armor.
Both had hit each other at the same time.
"Well, damn." Finland murmured, throwing down his gun. "This is unexpected."
Romano found the entire situation to be hilarious.
"T-that's fantastic!" He cackled, clutching his stomach and stepping backwards. Seeing his opportunity, Canada smirked and raised his gun.
Unfortunately, he had already fired by the time he saw Romano stumble back after tripping on a jagged rock. So he couldn't move back fast enough when Romano's gun hit the ground and managed to fire from the impact.
"Osti de criss."
Romano stared in horror at the red paint dripping down his shoulder. "…the fuck? Canada you bastard!" he snarled.
"Ve~ It's just a game." Veneziano said sweetly with a smug undertone. Finland just smiled as Canada climbed down from his post and stood with his back to the other three.
"I guess you win, Canada. We were the remaining four. Tibet informed me when I dropped by the Checkpoint."
"…None of us won." Canada murmured, not quite facing the nations. The three stared at him.
"What the fuck do you mean?" Romano snapped, bitter and sulky.
Canada sighed and turned slowly around. There was a splotch of green paint right above his heart.
Finland began to chuckle.
"Ta gueule! It was a lucky shot!" Canada muttered. "I don't even know how it could've happened."
Romano smirked. "Never underestimate an Italian, kid."
"…So, no one won?" Veneziano said sadly. "I got Germany out for no reason then? Ve…I hope he's not too upset…"
"Well, I wouldn't quite say that, mate."
"I hate you."
"You said that already, Iggy-kins." America said cheerfully, sprawled out with his hands tucked behind his head.
"No one's gotten out for a while now, not since Taiwan and Hong Kong anyways." Denmark mused. "So, out of the nations who started, only the Italy brothers, Canada and Finland remain."
"And Australia." Cameroon said softly. The African nations surrounded him nodded as well as Vietnam and Thailand.
"What?" England snapped, prominent brows twitching in rage. "He wasn't even here when we started!"
The nations shrugged.
"Like, forget Australia." Poland snapped angrily. "I am totally going to get Canada back. He'll be speaking Polish by the end of the week."
"You want to be partitioned again?" England growled, leaping to his former charge's defense.
"Try it and you can say goodbye to London!"
"That's not even fair!" Romano argued, shaking his fist threateningly at Australia. "You weren't even here when we started!"
"Well that wasn't my fault!" The sandy-haired man argued back. "New Zealand sent her sheep to eat my garden!"
"I bet you deserved it." Canada muttered moodily.
"You're just jealous."
"And you inherited England's eyebrows."
"Oh shut up! Just because you and America had normal sized eyebrows, doesn't mean you can mock me. Crikey, I thought you were the nice one."
"Now, now. Let's not argue about this." Finland sighed. "Australia, did you check in with Tibet?"
"Yeah, I did. He said I could play. I even got a few shots in." The man said proudly.
Canada continued to glare.
Finland sighed again. "Well, I guess you're the winner."
"Guess again Momma Finland!"
Five heads turned just in time to see a blue ball burst out of the bushes and hear a single shot be fired at Australia. With a grunt, the man stepped back and looked down in surprise at the pastel blue splotch adorning his chest armor before staring at Sealand who proudly stood holding a paintball gun almost half his height.
"Sealand!" Finland scolded. "I know we told you to stay home with Åland. This is for countries only. And you're too young."
"Aww, c'mon Momma!"
"Don't call me that." Finland grumbled, blushing. "And your father isn't going to be very happy."
"But I won! Aren't you proud?" The small boy asked softly, pout already forming. Finland looked unimpressed and grabbed the child's hand.
"Let's go everyone." Finland said, voice leaving no room for argument. The other four nations followed the pair, albeit reluctantly.
"I hope Germany isn't too angry." Veneziano whimpered, clutching his elder brother's arm.
"I don't care if that bastard is angry." Romano smirked. "Did you see his face when I shot him? Fantastico."
"I hope America doesn't start crying." Canada sighed. "Its his own fault for getting out so quickly."
"If he bothers you, I can set a wombat on him." Australia offered, throwing a shy glance at the other nation and trying to calm Canada's anger. Not that it was his fault Canada got out and he managed to stay in. But he really didn't want to provoke the usually gentle blond's wrath.
Canada smiled sweetly at the other. "That would be lovely."
"Who won? Who won? Who won?" America shouted, jumping up and down as soon as the group of nations entered the area. "I bet it was you right, bro?"
Canada shook his head with a rueful smile, resolutely avoiding Poland's sharp gaze. America frowned and then threw his arms around his younger brother, pulling him in for a tight hug. "It's okay, Canada. You played well. Now tell me the bastard who shot you and I'll go beat them up."
"You don't have—"
"Was it you Kangaroo Jack?" America growled, pulling away from Canada and grabbing Australia by his collar.
"Oi! Let go!"
"America, stop it." England said, imperiously with hard eyes. Reluctantly, America let go of the other nation. "It's just a game, you sod."
"So, who won?" Prussia asked lazily.
"Technically Australia." Finland answered, keeping a tight grip on Sealand.
"But I got him out!" Sealand announced, triumphantly.
"Good job kiddo!" Denmark called out.
Sweden slapped the other man upside the head with a dark glare.
"But it doesn't count." Finland said sharply, glaring down at his 'son'. "Because you aren't a nation."
"But, can't I be now? I won and everything!" Sealand whined.
"Absolutely not!" England shouted.
"No." Sweden mumbled.
"I don't think Australia deserves to win." America shouted. "That means he doesn't win."
"Who the bloody hell do you think you are?"
"What? It was my idea so I make the rules!"
"Someone get Tibet!"
And then everything exploded.
Poland leapt at Canada, still enraged by the other nation ruining his outfit. Lithuania tried to keep the blond from committing nationocide as Canada was unceremoniously shoved behind England and Australia into France's arms. France immediately started to take advantage of the younger nation, eliciting a surprised squeak which caught the attention of America ("Hey! Frenchie! Get the fuck off Canada!...Oh wait, he got me out…." "America!" "I mean, get off him pervert!"). Sweden and Finland just continued to scold Sealand for disobeying after congratulating him for a good shot. Veneziano ran to Germany, clinging to his broad shoulders and begged for forgiveness. Spain ran to Romano and wrapped the shorter Italian in his arms and started to cry ("How could you betray me?").
The other nations started to make bets on their fellow nations, but that didn't go smoothly so they started arguing loudly too.
Basically, everything went to hell.
And Prussia sat watching, laughing his ass off.
Back at the Checkpoint, Tibet watched as the Dead Zone quickly devolved into chaos. Cradling his head in his hands, he wished he had turned down America when the cheerful blond called and asked him to be the nation in charge of the Checkpoint. But it was a peaceful role that he enjoyed and knew China would make him participate anyways, so he had agreed. But now…things were just out of control.
So with a resigned sigh, the bald nation switched off the monitors and quietly packed up his things.
He needed to take a long nap.
The speech in other languages is all thanks to the users who on LJ who translated for me. I don't have the exact English translations, but I hope they're close enough.
Min fru förrådde mig. Varför, Finland? (Swedish) = My wife betrayed me. Why Finland?
Dra åt helvete Danmark (Swedish) = Fuck you Denmark (or Go to hell, Denmark. I can't recall....but its an insult XD)
Canada ne m'etonne pas (French) = Canada doesn't surprise me
Il est incroyable (French) = He is incredible.
Verdammt (German) = Damn.
Prendi questo, bastardo mangia-patate (Italian) = Take that, potato-eating bastard!
Ciao, bastardo (Italian) = So long, bastard.
Tämä on hauskempaa kuin luulin (Finnish) = This is more fun than I thought.
Nyt, missä hän voisi piileskellä? (Finnish) = Now where could he hide?
Es tevi ienīstu. Man riebās Dzīvot tavā mājā. Arī saulespuķes es ienīstu. (Latvian) = I hate you. I hated living in your house. And I hate sunflowers.
Es jūtos labi. (Latvian) = I feel good.
les deux Italiens, Espagne, Switzerland et sa sœur, et aussi…Je sais pas (French) = ...the two Italians, Spain, Switzerland and his sister, and also...I don't know.
Ta gueule (French) = Shut up (very rude, I think)
Sie haben sich gegen mich verbündet! (German) = They double-teamed me!
Él me disparó! Cuidé de él. Le di los mejores tomates. Acaso mi amor no significa nada para tí? (Spanish) = He shot me! I took care of him. I gave him the best tomatoes! Does my love mean nothing to you?
Do diabła!(Polish)= To hell (Google Translate...sorry)
Zabiję go! (Polish) = I'll kill him (...Google Translate -headdesk-)
Osti de criss. = ...Canadian French cursing. Host of Christ? IDK, sorry guys.
Okay, so I might've gotten lazy at the end. But, finally, it is complete. -collapses in exhaustion- I hope everyone enjoyed this. I'm gonna go die somewhere now. -crawls away-