yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2010-03-18 04:11 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-03-18 04:11 pm
Entry tags:
49;
Title: Fallen
Characters: England, Spain, mentions of America
Rating: PG
Notes: While the British Empire was on the rise (they had taken over India militarily, and soon secured Pacific Islands as well as Hong Kong while retaining their American colonies of Canada, Jamaica, British Honduras, etc) the Spanish Empire was on the sad decline (some colonies had gained independence and, after the Spanish-American War, Puerto Rico, Cuba, Guam, and the Philippines were no longer Spain's). America also had a small 'empire' at some point (Cuba as a protectorate and PR, the Philippines, and Guam being official territories, along with the early purchase by Seward of Alaska from Russia and the coup d'etat of Hawaii), but the imperialists in the country were much less impressive than European countries.
Also, for 30smiles' prompt Fall.
“He finished you off, did he?”
No answer.
England hadn’t expected one.
“Your colonies are limited.”
Silence.
“How tragic it is for an empire to fall whilst one rises from its ashes. America seems to be doing well for himself, despite not being imperialistic by nature, and my empire is as strong as yours used to be.”
Plucky. Pleased.
Spain only spat at his feet, sunk low against his oak desk with a bottle of sangria in his hands.
“The sun never sets on the British Empire, they say.”
“The sun never sets on the Spanish Empire.”
“The sun has set.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?!”
England stares down at the fallen empire, the one who had teased and taunted that he’d never be an empire, that he was just a little upstart pirate, and grasps the full irony in the situation. A soft, condescending smile creeps to his face and he kneels down, places a hand on Spain’s face, and tilts his head up to look in the pooling green eyes.
Softly; “But how much of you is still here?”
Spain blinks away tears and tucks his head back into his chest, pulling his knees up like a safety blanket against the world – against England, the British Empire. Then he replies even softer, so soft that England has to move closer, hands planted on either side of him and cheek pressed to cheek.
“There’s still me.”
They had left him. Spain glances at England and wonders if this is how it felt to lose America.
England looks nonchalant, unfazed by the silent question; he just strokes his cheek and stands, wiping his gloved hands on his trousers as if he had just touched a filthy dog.
Spain sips his sangria again.
Characters: England, Spain, mentions of America
Rating: PG
Notes: While the British Empire was on the rise (they had taken over India militarily, and soon secured Pacific Islands as well as Hong Kong while retaining their American colonies of Canada, Jamaica, British Honduras, etc) the Spanish Empire was on the sad decline (some colonies had gained independence and, after the Spanish-American War, Puerto Rico, Cuba, Guam, and the Philippines were no longer Spain's). America also had a small 'empire' at some point (Cuba as a protectorate and PR, the Philippines, and Guam being official territories, along with the early purchase by Seward of Alaska from Russia and the coup d'etat of Hawaii), but the imperialists in the country were much less impressive than European countries.
Also, for 30smiles' prompt Fall.
“He finished you off, did he?”
No answer.
England hadn’t expected one.
“Your colonies are limited.”
Silence.
“How tragic it is for an empire to fall whilst one rises from its ashes. America seems to be doing well for himself, despite not being imperialistic by nature, and my empire is as strong as yours used to be.”
Plucky. Pleased.
Spain only spat at his feet, sunk low against his oak desk with a bottle of sangria in his hands.
“The sun never sets on the British Empire, they say.”
“The sun never sets on the Spanish Empire.”
“The sun has set.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?!”
England stares down at the fallen empire, the one who had teased and taunted that he’d never be an empire, that he was just a little upstart pirate, and grasps the full irony in the situation. A soft, condescending smile creeps to his face and he kneels down, places a hand on Spain’s face, and tilts his head up to look in the pooling green eyes.
Softly; “But how much of you is still here?”
Spain blinks away tears and tucks his head back into his chest, pulling his knees up like a safety blanket against the world – against England, the British Empire. Then he replies even softer, so soft that England has to move closer, hands planted on either side of him and cheek pressed to cheek.
“There’s still me.”
They had left him. Spain glances at England and wonders if this is how it felt to lose America.
England looks nonchalant, unfazed by the silent question; he just strokes his cheek and stands, wiping his gloved hands on his trousers as if he had just touched a filthy dog.
Spain sips his sangria again.