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Post by [x] Eastport on Aug 3, 2012 12:13:07 GMT -5
((Works for me. ^^))
An iron spear stabbed Eastport's heart and he whipped around, confronting Molossia first. "WHAT DIDJA SAY?!" Once again, his fangs were lowered and (metaphorical) claws extended. "Do ya have a problem with me cooking, huh?"
He nodded at America, though, acknowledging that he would love to help. But being "friends" with Molossia wasn't something he wanted to do at the current moment.
((Look at mine!))
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Post by America on Aug 4, 2012 4:43:01 GMT -5
[[Alrighty, whenever you guys wanna duke it out...XD]]
America smiled. "Awesome!" he exclaimed. "See, how cool is this? We'll all work together and it's be a good bonding experience and we can get over our differences and eat some delicious chicken noodle soup." He tried ignoring the way Molossia and Eastport were glaring at each other, the way they looked as if they might kill each other. That wouldn't be happening anytime soon, at least not under his watch.
"So, Mol, you grab the rest of the veggies and Eastport can help me pick the other stuff! Or...wait." Might as well force the two to get along and work together. "I'll grab the veggies and you and Eastport can pick the herbs I need. Sound good?" Without even waiting for an answer, he moved about and started on his task, humming as if he was in a peaceful state of bliss (when, in reality, he was listening for any signs of a fight).
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Post by [x] Molossia on Aug 4, 2012 12:22:59 GMT -5
"Ya heard me..." Molossia mumbled, but couldn't speak up, even if he wanted to. He was interupted with America's cheerful reasoning with the two micronations. It was very clear America was trying his hardest to force the two to be friends, or at least get them to stop arguing. Well, Molossia wouldn't have any of it!
He grunted and shot a glare at Eastport before shuffling off through the dirt, heading off to the direct left of where he had been standing moments before. Molossia knew by heart where the herbs inhabited the large greenhouse, as he came up here almost every single day and spent an hour or two working.
If Eastport was smart enough, he'd know Molossia was quietly waving a white flag of surrender. Not surrendering to Eastport, but rather agreeing to at least attempt to be kinder to him and pick herbs like civilized folk. Not that Molossia had to like it - it was more for the sake of America. He was desperate to get the two to get along.
(I so figured out just the thing to break the final straw in half. Molossia should mumble something harsh under his breath, hoping Eastport wouldn't hear him. Then Eastport should get pissed off and - since he now knows Molossia's weakness - stomp all over some of his vegetables. Molossia would go on an utter rampage. Then they can head to the training grounds because Molossia doesn't want anymore of his beloved plants injured.)
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Post by [x] Eastport on Aug 4, 2012 17:08:28 GMT -5
((The thing is, he's immature, but not malicious. He'd probably just say something like "wanna take this to the training grounds?" or something. But he'd grumble something back and THEN they might duke it out. Oh, and I'm on my iTouch now, so I'll modify this later with my actual post. SO NO OTHER POSTING UNTIL I MODIFY THIS GUYS!!!))
Sadly, Eastport doesn't accept surrender nor realized that was what Molossia was doing. Also, his stubbornness really didn't help him in this situation when being a bit compliant was necessary to keep the peace.
"Daaaaaaaaaaaad! Why do I hafta work with 'im?! Ya KNOW he doesn't like me at all!" Being immature as usual, Eastport crossed his arms and pinched the bridge of his nose. "'N it doesn't help I live on th' water; I know next t' nothing 'bout plants 'r gardening 'n crap! That's Annap's job!"
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Post by America on Aug 5, 2012 17:55:37 GMT -5
America was pleased when Molossia hardly gave any complaint and got down to work. Well, one down, another to go. With a smile, he turned to Eastport, who was complaining about having to work with the other micronation. "You two will be fine!" he exclaimed happily, hoping to fix their little dislike for each other with a good, ol' cheerful attitude. It sometimes worked with France and England, so why shouldn't it work with Eastport and Molossia?
"I'm sure Mol likes you a lot! You guys are, like brothers or something! Plus, he can help you with the gardening. He knows this place super-duper well, so he can just point out the herbs he'd like you to pick and everything will be awesome!" He beamed once more before piling the basket with all the vegetables he and Molossia had picked. Hopefully, everything would be awesome.
[[Er...maybe he accidentally ruins one of the plants or something? LOL, I dunno, I'm no good with ideas. ^.^;]]
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Post by [x] Eastport on Aug 6, 2012 2:50:25 GMT -5
((I'm just waiting for Molly to hear the "gardening and CRAP" line. :'D I don't think I should ACTUALLY post until she responds to it~))
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Post by [x] Molossia on Aug 6, 2012 7:19:21 GMT -5
(Argh, sorry. Didn't see you guys posted until now.)
Molossia had gone back to picking some herbs. He decided to pick whatever he thought was needed. Parsley, basil... but three words that Eastport blurted out without noticing tore Molossia a new ear drum. What was that he had said? Gardening and... what? Maybe Eastport hadn't said directly that gardening was crap, but in Molossia's head, any other noun or verb or word in general put in the same sentence as 'gardening' was automatically compared to him and his plants. To compare it with crap...
Molossia brought his foot down to slam it into the dirt - far from his plants, of course - and swung around to face Eastport. "THE FUCK DID YOU SAY, YOU UNGRATEFUL PIECE OF SHIT?!" He spat, a low growl emerging from the back of his throat that would make a rabid dog cower in a corner and cry. Ignoring every word that had come out of America's mouth before that, Molossia was in front of Eastport within seconds, clutching onto his shirt collar with a murderous look in his eyes.
Eastport brought this upon himself. Everyone knows just how sensitive Molossia is when it comes to the few things in life that he adores more than life itself.
(Would-be happy, brotherly moment = ruined.)
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Post by [x] Eastport on Aug 6, 2012 8:00:20 GMT -5
((It's Eastport and Molossia; It's like trying to get France and England to work together. XD))
"Yeah, but-" Eastport's statement was forcibly cut off by nearly being lifted into the air and growled at like a dog. He fought to be put down and all the while, glared at his captor.
"All I said was I didn't wanna work with ya." He lowly said, not breaking eye contact and not backing down. "If ya got a problem with that, join th' club." While it might seem like common nature that Molossia would be sensitive to gardening, Eastport never had much contact with him, and as such he didn't know a single thing about the other micronation.
"But if ya wanna fight with me, the trainin' grounds 'r a hop, skip 'n jump away."
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Post by America on Aug 6, 2012 8:31:18 GMT -5
America was trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
One minute, they were probably about to be peaceful and everything, and the next minute, Molossia was yelling at Eastport and holding onto him tightly. And Eastport was talking about fighting in the training grounds. America held back a groan. And here he thought everything would be doing okay after his intervention. Well, maybe they were just too much of polar opposites to even begin to try working together.
He did allow himself a sigh. "Okay, I don't know what just happened, but if you guys won't quit, just go to the training grounds already. Geez, you two are like cats and dogs." He brushed some dirt off his pants then realized that, should he let the micronations out of his sight, they could possibly kill each other. "But, if you two do decide to fight, I'm gonna be watching to make sure it's fair." And to make sure no one dies, he inwardly added.
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Post by [x] Molossia on Aug 6, 2012 18:20:50 GMT -5
The corners of Molossia's mouth pulled back in a sharp, mischievous grin. The training grounds were an absolutely perfect idea - it was probably the first thing that Eastport said that he had ever agreed with.
America didn't seem to eager to have the two fight, but he was a good sport (Better sport than the other two were being) and gave a promise to be Eastport and Molossia's personal referee.
"Trainin' grounds, eh?" Molossia chuckled like a mad man and loosened his grip, dropping Eastport to the ground. "A'ight. I'll meet yer challenge, Kid!" A purr escaped his lips. It'd be nice to get a chance to punch Eastport's face in...
...Although, America might frown upon that. Ah, well. Molossia mentally promised himself to keep it a simple thwacking. No murdering involved, hopefully not too bad of injuries. Seriously, how much damage could little Eastport do to him? He was at least an entire foot shorter than Molossia, who stood over him with ease.
(Phew.. finally done catching up in all my threads I needed to... I think. x.x)
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Post by [x] Eastport on Aug 6, 2012 21:49:11 GMT -5
((Yay~!))
Eastport snorted at the 'fair' comment. He didn't want fair. He just wanted a fight.
And to NOT be called a kid.
"I'll see ya there, gran'pa." Calmly, the ocean micronation brushed the dirt off his pants and stood up. "One hour. No weapons, jus' y'r fists.
'n if ya fail t' show up, ya forfeit. Deal?"
((Time skip next post? :'D))
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Post by America on Aug 6, 2012 22:34:12 GMT -5
[[TIME SKIP COMMENCES! >=D]]
America couldn't believe he was doing this.
They were down in the training grounds, after much more arguing and 'I'm gonna kick your ass' sort of stuff, and America was wondering just how on earth he got himself roped into being the ref for a fight between two of his micronations. All he wanted was chicken noodle soup. Well, we can make that after they finish killing each other, he thought, glancing over at the vegetables and herbs he had sitting on the ground beside him.
"You two sure you wanna do this?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at both of them. Better make sure before actually starting, after all.
[[Short post is short, gahhhhh.]]
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Post by [x] Eastport on Aug 6, 2012 23:09:00 GMT -5
((Don't worry. XD And Eastport's accent didn't change; I just edited it a bit reflect more accurately how we speak. :'D))
"'A course!" Why the hell wouldn't Eastport want to fight with Molossia?! The brat kept pissing him off and making fun of him and the only way to get through the kid's thick skull that he was stronger than him was a fight! "It's not like I got another choice!"
He grumbled something unintelligent under his breath as he fixed his clothes. In the time between the issued challenge and the time of the fight, he had switched his clothes just a bit. Instead of his usual outfit, he opted for something a bit easier to move around in (and less likely to be able to be pulled). He swapped his usual canvas shirt for a normal grey t-shirt, his white sailing pants for semi-tight jeans and his sandals for foot-hugging sneakers.
He looked odd, he realized as he tied back his messy hair and tied a dark maroon bandanna around his head to keep his bangs back, but he needed to. If he had loose clothes like he normally wore, he'd be easier to catch.
And the less clothes you wear, the lighter you are; and the lighter you are, the faster you are.
So while he may not be able to overpower Molossia, he could at least wear him down and dodge him.
"When's he getting here? I'd be more'n happy if he ran away 'n forfeited for me~."
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Post by [x] Molossia on Aug 7, 2012 7:01:14 GMT -5
Molossia stormed into the open area of the training grounds, standing directly across from Eastport and staring him down. "Already here." He mumbled, flattening out his white shirt.
Like Eastport, Molossia was wise enough to pack light for this fight. Eastport was an agile little thing, he'd be much faster than Molossia in general. Instead, Molossia simply wore his sleeveless, white undershirt he wore underneath his usual button-up collared shirt. He also left his military jacket inside. Molossia was freezing his ass off in this light clothing, but a little cold never hurt anybody. He would survive.
"There's no way 'n hell that I'd run from a little twerp like ya!" The micronation eyed Eastport up and down cautiously. "Yer followin' tha rules, right? No weapons, got it? Just 'er fists."
(I have the exact opposite problem. I feel like I'm spamming Molossia's accent a bit too much. XD I'm kinda failing at the... mobster-speech. Or whatever you want to call it.)
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Post by America on Aug 7, 2012 9:10:00 GMT -5
America sighed, stepping back and scratching at his head. Well, they seemed ready. They seemed more than ready, really, to beat the ever-loving crap out of each other. And America was letting them do just that. Oh, boy, beat England would be mighty proud. Ha, England would give him an earful if word of this ever got out. "One thing before we start," he said, sticking his hands in the pocket of his bomber jacket. "Neither of you will mention this to anyone. I'm responsible for my micronations and you guys know how pissy the other nations, 'specially England, can get." He gave a nod, a smile coming to his face.
"So, you guys start whenever you're ready. No weapons, like Mol said. Just what your body has to offer is all you can use." He wasn't in the mood to have too much blood about the training grounds. Nor was he in the mood to take anyone to the medics. "Fight fair. If I see something that isn't fair, I'm gonna stop the fight and the person who committed the unfair act will instantly be the loser." Because he could do that, being America and all. "So, uh...fight, I guess!"
He was far too cheerful for this.
[[I'm no good with writing accents. I think both of you are perfect. =D]]
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