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Post by England on Jul 3, 2012 19:40:33 GMT -5
"I was thinking of making a bacon omelet, but if you think it would be better with grits, then go for it." England shrugged, not particularly caring for the fatty pieces of pork grease. "Anything that will make the food more consistent and somewhat enjoyable." even he knew that the sustenance they got was only minimal, and basic. Far from a five-star, four-course meal.
"Just make sure it'll be enough for everyone. Our stock is supposed to be on its way already, and should be here in a couple of days. We need to think of breakfast, dinner, and, if it can be spared, lunch for both days. And I know how ravenous you are, but control yourself, alright?" he huffed, starting to crack the eggs and concentrating on his task as he let the clear and yellow substance run out of its shell before throwing it away.
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Post by America on Jul 3, 2012 19:57:30 GMT -5
"I can control myself when necessary," America commented, putting the oatmeal away. "And, as delicious as a bacon omelet sounds, I think it might be better if I handle the meat." He knew he could probably cook the bacon better than England could, after all. He didn't really want it destroyed. The eggs, yeah, he could handle burnt eggs, but no one messed with his bacon.
After pouring water into a pot and leaving it on the stove to boil, he reached in the fridge and grabbed the bacon, then sighed when he noticed they were out of dairy products. "Just a heads-up, this won't taste perfectly amazing. I usually add milk or butter or cheese, but..." He closed the fridge and rolled his eyes. "We're out." He'd add as much salt and pepper as he could, of course, and the bacon might add some flavor to it, but he knew it wouldn't taste nearly as good as he wanted it to.
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Post by England on Jul 3, 2012 20:35:40 GMT -5
"We're out?" England's eyes went wide, and he gulped down. No dairy products... That meant no calcium, and without calcium for the next two days, the Nations would be lacking a very important nutrient. Not enough to do harm on a long-term, but enough to cause weakness in the limbs, slowed functioning of organs and decelerated recovery. And in a time when the Nations had to be in tip-top shape, nutrient deprivation was the last thing they needed.
England suddenly realized he'd started worrying again and sighed, taking a deep breath. He really shouldn't worry, he told himself, that the Nations could take care of themselves and that the stress would split him in half if he kept going this way. But then again, if nobody worried, then nobody would watch out, and everything would fall apart. England just didn't know anymore. He just wished he could be carefree like America.
"That's alright. We can always use oil as butter replacement, and we'll just have to forgo other milk products." he shrugged like it was nothing, and returned to beating his eggs with a harder force than necessary, he realized as he listened to his metal whip clinking against the porcelain bowl.
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Post by America on Jul 4, 2012 20:57:49 GMT -5
America bit his lip as he grabbed a frying pan from one of the cupboards. Though he knew that their lack of dairy materials obviously wasn't his fault, he still couldn't help but feel that he somehow had a part in making everything disappear faster. He probably drank too much milk with his breakfast or used too much cheese on his potatoes. Whatever the reason, he might have had a play in it (more than might, actually- probably) and he just felt bad. If he could control his hunger, perhaps they would have more food. It was no secret that he was always hungry, that he practically ate the most out of every other country. Of course he ought to take the blame for lack of food.
"Uh...sorry," he muttered, his face red as he placed the bacon on the pan to begin frying it. "I'll try to, ya know...eat a lot less." He cleared his throat, keeping his attention on the bacon. He didn't want England spotting how red he was getting. He really did hate apologizing, and he really hated apologizing about food. It screamed, 'hey, everyone, I'm a pig and can't control what I eat!'
"I'll skip out on the oil for now," he said, a bit louder this time. "I don't wanna use too much, just in case something happens to our supplies or they don't get here in time or whatever. We can make do with pepper, salt, and bacon. I'm sure everyone will be fine with that." They had to be, actually, because they couldn't afford to be picky. Not here.
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Post by England on Jul 4, 2012 21:08:32 GMT -5
"That's alright. At worst, we'll just lay low for the next two days, sleep lots, not go outside, generally conserve our energy to pally for the lack of nutrients in our sustenance." England shrugged. "God... I hate having to make compromises like this." he turned to America and looked at him a bit inquisitively. "Don't you?" Or maybe it was just England who couldn't stand the thought of not taking care of the Nations right.
Obviously, since he was clearly the only one worrying over trivial things like a lack of calcium in their diet, but... Did that make him a bad person? For being overprotective and a worry wart? What if he didn't care at all and let the others do as they pleased? Would that create more chaos as the Nations would not know how to coordinate without a reference point? England felt weird thinking about it all. The pressure of being a leader had never sat well with him. Maybe he needed an assistant, or something, to help him take some of the worries off his shoulders.
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Post by America on Jul 4, 2012 21:20:30 GMT -5
It took America a few seconds to respond, mainly because he really didn't know how to answer that. "Well, yeah, I guess. Come on, you know me." He, too, turned and looked at England, offering him a small smile. "I hate making compromises about food. And, as for the other nations, I hate the fact that they might go hungry. I know we're nations and can't really die from starvation like humans can, but..." He shrugged. "Doesn't make it any less enjoyable, though."
Then, of course, he noticed England's expression. He noticed the way his eyes were filled with worry and concern. "They'll be fine!" he quickly added. "They understand how low we are on supplies. It's cool, England, don't you worry about it." At least, he hoped it was cool. He knew he could trust the others not to throw a complete fuss, but he hoped they wouldn't be weak and exhausted by the time the new supplies came in. He hoped they would at least put up an act, even a small one, to show that they could handle whatever was thrown at them.
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Post by England on Jul 5, 2012 22:19:28 GMT -5
"I'm not worried. Why would you think otherwise?" England huffed, turning his gaze away and finishing up with his eggs. "They can take care of themselves, of course. I really shouldn't be the one caring for everybody." he added, just for good measure, and continued beating the eggs until they were liquid.
He put the whisk aside and picked up the bowl, taking it over to America.
"Here. I'm done with the eggs." Trying to cook them was a lost cause, because America would surely protest in letting him create a masterpiece and would want to cook rubbish by himself instead. It seemed to make him happy, though, so England didn't mind it as much. He held out the bowl to him and looked up to him expectantly. "Is there something else I can do?"
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Post by America on Jul 5, 2012 22:34:08 GMT -5
Not exactly wanting England to mess with the bacon, America took the bowl and pointed over at the grits. "You can stir those until I'm ready to add in the bacon," he replied. "Also, if you don't mind, try adding in some pepper and salt to give it some more flavor." That was all the freedom he'd allow England, though. He didn't want inedible grits. "Just pepper and salt. Nothing else." He smiled at England before turning back to the bacon.
He flipped the bacon once more, trying to get it as crunchy as possible before burning it. He didn't exactly like his bacon chewy, although charred black wasn't exactly a treat, either. Anyway, the bacon would probably be the most important part of the grits. He lack the dairy supplies to make it more creamy, cheesy, or buttery, but at least they had bacon. You could never go wrong with bacon.
"After I'm done cooking the bacon," he started, laying some well-cooked slices aside. "Do you want me to wash out this pan or are you cool with bacon grease mixed with the eggs?"
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Post by England on Jul 6, 2012 23:16:12 GMT -5
"Ugh." England scrunched his nose in disgust as he picked up a wooden spoon and started stirring the grits as America had told him to do. "It doesn't matter." he huffed. "Either way, I knew you were going to make something entirely unhealthy, no matter what you did, so no surprise there." Well... in times like this, though, the thought of wasting anything at all was displeasing. So maybe he did well to let America go on as he did.
Instead, he busied himself with shaking salt over the grits, frowning impatiently as the grains of salt fell down much too slowly, the holes clogged by dried crystals of sodium. Figuring it might go faster if he opened the lid entirely, he worked on doing that exactly, thinking that all he had to do was tip it a little to get the desired results. It wouldn't be so bad... Just a little tip... With that reminder in mind, England put the open-mouthed salt shaker over the grits, and started tipping it forward.
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Post by America on Jul 7, 2012 9:34:58 GMT -5
America smirked as he continued moving the cooked bacon aside. "Bacon grease on eggs is good, though," he stated. "Besides, it'll give it some more flavor. I usually like cheese or something in my eggs and, since we can't have that, this might help some." He hummed as he continued working, now laying raw slices of bacon out on the pan. The smell was so tantalizing that it nearly made his mouth water. He couldn't wait until breakfast was finished and all the others woke up and-
And then he spared a glance over at England, who had somehow gotten the bright idea that the grits would be better seasoned with the entire canister of salt. That explained why his food was always so salty. Wanting nothing more than to save those grits, America quickly gave a sideways step over England's way and grabbed his wrist, just stopping him from ruining the food. "Nuh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "Dude, I said some pepper and salt, not entire cans of the stuff."
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Post by England on Jul 7, 2012 15:55:40 GMT -5
"Hey!" England jumped as America suddenly took his wrist, and the sudden movement made salt go flying everywhere on the counter. "What the hell, America?" he immediately protested, turning around and glaring at him. "I had this under control, you didn't have to put your nose where it didn't belong again!" he blushed and wriggled his wrist in a half-hearted effort to get free. "I don't need you to tell me what I can or cannot do. Especially in areas of expertise of mine, like the kitchen." he then looked at the counter. "And look at what you've done. It's a mess now. Do you know how long it's going to take to clean out all the salt on and under the counter as well?"
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Post by America on Jul 7, 2012 18:43:49 GMT -5
"Areas of expertise?" That line stuck out from England's little lecture and America wanted to do nothing more than laugh and laugh. Knowing that would probably further anger England, though, America just stuck to a grin and didn't expand on that sentence any more. Frankly, he believed it didn't need much comment.
He abandoned his bacon for a moment to survey the mess. "Well, it shouldn't take too long to clean up!" he exclaimed cheerfully, releasing England's wrist. "I mean, we just need a broom and dustpan and it's all good!" He then turned to his grits, letting out a relieved sigh when he saw that there was no pile of salt resting on top of them. "Man, I saved this food just in time."
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Post by England on Jul 8, 2012 15:24:55 GMT -5
"Well it's still an unpleasant task." England huffed, rubbing his wrist and turning around, walking to the broom closet and pulling out a small broom and dustpan. "Then again, I can't say I'm surprised. You've always been one to make a mess wherever you went." he added in a grumble as he walked back to where America was still standing. He eyed the mess on the counter and the mess on the ground before deciding to go from bottom to top, and got on his knees, sweeping the grains of salt into his dustpan.
Quite conveniently, though, America's foot was in the way, so England was left with no choice but to put his hands on America's thigh and push to indicate that he needed to move.
"Get your foot out of the way so I can clean under the counter." he grunted, glaring up at him. "Someone needs to clean up after you, after all, the least you could do is help."
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Post by America on Jul 8, 2012 18:18:10 GMT -5
Once England's hand touched his thigh, America blushed, wondering if this was a good position to be caught in if someone walked into the room. Deciding that it most certainly wasn't (and dreading the thought of some nation getting the wrong idea), America quickly backed away, nearly toppling over the pan that held his bacon. "Oh, uh...y-yeah, I'll help. Even if I didn't make the mess. This is your fault, not mine."
He, too, bent down, then realized he didn't even have anything to clean up with. He really felt like an idiot at the moment- England must be holding back laughter at America's sudden awkwardness."Is there another...another thingy in the closet? Like a brush...dustpa- oh, gimme that." He frowned at his sudden lack of articulacy and snatched the small broom from England's hands. "You hold that pan steady, alright? I'll sweep all this stuff into it."
Barely audible, he added in, "Even though it was your fault."
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Post by England on Jul 8, 2012 18:58:39 GMT -5
"M-My fault?" England blushed, and it certainly wasn't from their sudden proximity, or the way America had decided to help him clean up, or how it had suddenly gotten a bit too hot- England was just.... outraged at how America seemed to pin everything on him. Yes. That sounded just about right for an alibi. "W-Well, is it also my fault that you're a stupid git?" he added before huffing and bending lower, his cheek hovering just above the linoleum-tiled floor as he peeked under the counter. "I didn't even need your help, but the mess hasn't gone too far in, so even an idiot like you should be able to clean up correctly."
He then drew back and decided to do something else than meet America's gaze, painfully aware of the blush dusting his cheeks. He really did have a talent for blushing at inopportune moments.
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