|
Post by [x] Spain on Dec 28, 2012 2:08:45 GMT -5
Perfect. Everything was going according to plan.
Well, almost. The little voice wouldn't shut up.
However, seeing him so curious made up for it.
"I don't know~ Are you sure~? After all, you may never look at your precious little Brit the same again~ Just like you won't be able to look at Spain the same way again~" He warned, circling the American like a hungry shark waiting for the right moment to attack it's prey. "It's a terrible, dark story filled with untold horrors and guess what? No heroes. That's right. He didn't have anyone to save him. No one came to his aid. Oh, the poor man. So lost and alone. So broken, scarred and pitiful. Of course no one took pity on him, but that's a small detail we can overlook~"
He eventually settled to leaning against him, with his bent elbow on America's shoulder for support. "After all, who would? They all had a shiny, exotic new toy to play with. And mumsy didn't even care if it broke. He welcomed it, even to the point where he broke Spain the most, leaving him scarred, misshapen and hideously malformed."
Giving a devious grin that would make the Cheshire Cat proud, he gave one last, teasing warning. "Are you brave enough to hear the rest of the tale~?"
|
|
|
Post by America on Dec 28, 2012 8:59:27 GMT -5
America swallowed nervously, both at Spain's close proximity (he wasn't sure if he wanted this Spain to touch him at all) and at the prospect of hearing such a story. If Spain was correct, it would be dark. Not that America expected every nation to have a light, happy past, but this one would probably prove to be the worst of them all, if the words used to describe it were true.
His heart also raced when he realized England was part of the story. England captured him, and England used him as a toy. That's all he got, and that would have probably been enough for any lover to hear about his significant other, but America needed to hear more. He needed to know why exactly Spain grew upset at the mention of England's capture, why England never spoke about it, and why this new Spain was formed.
"I'm brave enough," he quickly decided, staring ahead so as to not look into those dark eyes. "Just tell me already. Don't, don't sugarcoat it. I can handle anything."
|
|
|
Post by [x] Spain on Dec 28, 2012 9:36:52 GMT -5
Oooooh~ How fun~ He couldn't even look at him.
Please don't!. The little voice grew stronger, nearly causing him to have a headache. But he gave a feral smirk and went on anyway.
"As you know, around - when was it, the Elizabethan Era? Yes, it must be - Spain was captured by England and his gang of privateers. Now he had been captured before, but not like this. He had grown wild, restless, and stubborn as a mule. He wasn't listening to anyone.
So when England offered him a choice to either do exactly as he said or pay the price, he chose the second option, in a rather rude way filled with insults and choice words towards every aspect of his captor.
Naturally, he didn't take kindly to that. So guess what he did? He had this body tied up in a very - ah - compromising position, thrown into the darkest corner of the ship and left to rot. Now, that wasn't all he did. He told his crew one more thing: They could do whatever they wanted to to him." His green eyes sparkled with amusement as he went to the other side of him, looping his arm around his shoulder now and crossing one leg over the other. "The jumped on that opportunity like a pack of wolves because they suddenly had something to take their frustration on! And I don't mean just anger. I mean their biological frustration too. You have that many men on board with no women for months on end and they're bound to need release.
So you know what they did to him in the weeks he was down there? They did E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G." He stretches out the word as long as possible, whispering it in his ear. "And by that I do mean everything. They beat him to death sixteen times, bleed out thirty-two, twenty of them carved their names into his skin for sport, forty or so used him on a near-daily basis for their personal punching bag causing - I think - fifteen black eyes, eleven broken bones, obviously thousands of bruises and I lost track at around two hundred and eighty-seven times he was raped and/or molested. And not by just one partner - entire groups would come down and enjoy what he could give them. That happened the most often so I counted each individual.
Anyway, I'm not done there. Oh no, there's more. Your precious England went down on day and offered him the same choice. Only this time, he was too broken to deny him. So he became England's personal sex slave." Spain darkly chuckled, shaking his head. "And boy, did both of them enjoy it~
Granted that lasted for maybe about two weeks before England got pissed at something or someone I don't even know and he brought up his little Spanish whore, tied him to the main mast naked, allowed the crew to touch him in anyway they pleased so long as they did not cut him and then crossed the final line." Ah, he had forgotten, he didn't know what the 'final line' was. He quickly explained it was when a nation leaves a scar on another.
"Except it wasn't just one scar. After he whipped him ten or twenty times he set that down, picked up a knife, and whispered in his ear everything he didn't want to be told," as he was explaining this, he pantomimed what was going on, using America in place of his other half and himself as England. "You're pathetic. You're a failure. No one loves you. No one will save you. You belong to me forever. You are less than the dirt beneath my feet. You'll be nothing more than a dirty whore. You'll never escape. Everyone you know hates you and would revel in seeing you like this." Moving back to stand beside him, he regained his original position. "The list goes on and on. Anyway, as he was saying that two things happened. Firstly, England carved not his nation name but his human name across his shoulder blades so that anyone who saw it knew he belonged to another man. Secondly, he branded him with the seal of England right above his tailbone, thus proving he was property of the nation as well.
He never got over it. The pathetic whore still has his scars. Though how could he? The Inquisition was still fresh in his mind and do you know what he did? He took this entire thing as a good thing. It was payment for his sins against God and his people in a way. Well, that's the explanation he went for later anyway. It made sense to him. Though that didn't stop him from creating me. He didn't want to feel that way again so unknowingly he created me as a defense mechanism. Whenever he gets frustrated or scared or too hurt I come out to protect him since I'm the stronger of the two. Granted he won't remember anything he says or does, but he'll know I was there just by his surroundings."
The alter-ego took a break from talking and went back to his tree, heart thudding wildly in excitement and the grin never once leaving his face. "Do you have any questions~?"
|
|
|
Post by America on Dec 28, 2012 9:55:31 GMT -5
He had heard enough. Early on during Spain's story, he realized he had heard enough. He had been expecting something pretty awful, yes, but when Spain started giving the numbers, America's heart truly dropped and his stomach lurched. He wanted Spain to stop, but he couldn't muster up the courage to tell him. He could only sit there and listen to the rest of the story, biting his lip to keep from gasping at the more disturbing elements.
When Spain's other self had finally finished, America still kept his gaze away, choosing instead to look at the ground. He made a move to speak, but he couldn't even find his voice, and he didn't want to try to find it. He wanted to mull over Spain's words, fully see the other side of the nations, the side that he had ignored his entire life.
England did all that. England let people rape Spain. And after they were done, England did the same, and he carved his name into Spain's back- his human name- and made him property. England, the love of America's life, the only man he could ever want, did all that. America knew his lover's past was dirty, but not like this. Suddenly, everything England had said before made sense. All of his talk about being a monster just made sense.
He couldn't help the shuddering breath that was exhaled from his mouth as he looked up at Spain. "He's changed, though," the younger nation said. "He doesn't do stuff like that anymore. He's different, and Spain's forgiven him, I bet."
|
|
|
Post by [x] Spain on Dec 28, 2012 13:17:57 GMT -5
A victorious grin danced on the Spaniard's lips. Oh, he knew he won. Even if there wasn't a contest, he won anyway. He had power and that alone made him jump for joy.
"Forgive? Perhaps." He shrugged, tilting his head side to side in thought. "He really has no choice in the matter. If he doesn't forgive England for what he did, how can he forgive himself?" He paused, pursing his lips. "Though it's like I said: Anton doesn't even blame him. He honestly believes he deserved all that. So really there's nothing to forgive."
Rubbing his temples, he prayed that his other half would just shut up and let him keep talking. It was a rare occurrence for him to have a conversation with someone, so it was high time he did.
|
|
|
Post by America on Dec 28, 2012 14:32:51 GMT -5
It was all confusing now. Spain believed he had deserved all that? America couldn't fathom the idea of anyone deserving what England had let happened to Spain. No matter what Spain did, the punishment exceeded his deeds. He was scarred, both physically and emotionally, for the rest of his life. No one quite deserved such an experience to follow them throughout immortality. And Spain, cheerful, sweet, helpful Spain, was the one that received such a punishment. To America, that seemed more than a little unfair. That was just awful.
And if Spain believed it was his fault, if Spain couldn't accept the fact that he didn't deserve that, America didn't know what he could do to make anything better.
"So to cope with it all, he made you," America muttered, looking over at Spain's alter-ego. "He need protection, so he just...he created you." America wasn't surprised. Czech had done the same thing. It just seemed like the cheerful nations were the ones with a hidden secret. Except, like with Czech, this different Spain wasn't needed anymore. He didn't have to be around. Especially not if he readily told Spain's secrets without any worries whatsoever. There was a reason Spain kept all of that secret, and now America knew with little prompting at all.
He couldn't help it when he felt a surge of anger well through him, anger at this different Spain for being, well, different. "Fuck you," he hissed. "You're the monster here. You're the one ruining things for him now."
|
|
|
Post by [x] Spain on Dec 28, 2012 15:55:26 GMT -5
"Mmhmm~! I was born the day he needed me. I was his saving grace." Proudly beaming, he looked over, noting how angry he was becoming.
Absolutely splendid.
Especially since he was called a monster.
"A 'monster'~!" He giggled, finding the new nickname incredibly hilarious. Oh, he had never been called that before. "You honestly think that little old me is a monster~~?" His shoulders shook with how hard be was laughing and he doubled over, nearly falling to the dirt.
"M-My dear boy, I am no monster." Finally standing up after his laughing fit, he wiped his eyes and giggled a bit longer as it died down. "Merely a defense mechanism. He gets angry just like any other nation and when that happens all he does is bottle it up. So when he's so angry, so frustrated all he does is see red-- BWOOSH!" he made an exploding gesture with his hands in the other's face. "I'm released to get rid of that. Or! Or or or! Take today! Yeeeees today is a good example." Chuckling even more, he went back beside him and tapped his head. "Today he realized that Turkey left. And that just BROKE him. He didn't know what to do! He was too scared to face reality so he let me take over. When he's faced with something he is too scared to face, that's when I step in."
Darkening his look, this other Spain narrowed his eyes, becoming strangely serious. "I have saved his life on more than one occasion. He's needed me several times and still needs me. So long as he gets scared, so long as he gets hurt, so long as he still believes he's nothing compared to others, I will still be there in the darkest corner of his mind just waiting to be released.
And there is nothing you can do about it, Mister Hero. You can't save this one."
|
|
|
Post by America on Dec 28, 2012 16:17:25 GMT -5
He hadn't been expecting the laughing fit. He didn't know what it was exactly he had expected this Spain to do, but a laughing fit was certainly not at the top of his list. It just solidified the fact that this alter-ego was insane. He took a step back, managing not to break eye contact, even when Spain suddenly turned serious on him.
He was going to be brave and face whatever dangers today had to offer him. If that meant facing some insane Spain, then so be it.
When he was told he couldn't save "this one", he froze, face rigid. He hated being told that he "can't". He hated being mocked and ridiculed. He knew he could save whoever he wanted to save- that was one of the perks of being a hero. And he was a hero, and he could save anyone, even Spain. Especially Spain.
"He doesn't need you anymore," America responded, still glaring. "He's got friends. He's got allies. Anyone of us would help him through whatever he needed. We'd be there for him." He was certain of it- all of the nations were now so close together, so tied up in the mess, that working alone wasn't possible anymore. To keep sane, to keep safe, everyone would have to pitch in and help. That was what America wanted for Spain.
"I can save him." He was sure of it. "I'm not gonna let you take him over. He doesn't want-" America flung his hand out at the alter-ego, gesturing to his dark look. "-this! He doesn't. I'm gonna prove it, and I'm gonna save him. I'm gonna get rid of you, just like I did Czech's alter ego."
Just saying that gave him the confidence he needed. "If you don't think I can, go talk to Czech. I'm sure she'd be more than willing to explain just how exactly I got rid of the monster within her."
|
|
|
Post by [x] Spain on Dec 28, 2012 17:17:59 GMT -5
Antonio rolled his eyes at the glaring, stepping back and shaking his head. Aye, this child was INCREDIBLY thick-headed. He didn't seem to grasp the concept of 'fear' very well.
"He needs me whether you like it or not. Ask him, he'd probably agree. I face all of his fears for him. I protect him from all the real monsters. I do so much for you that you can't even begin to understand. Sure, he has 'friends' and 'allies' and all that shit, but when push comes to shove, he doesn't trust ANYONE with ANYTHING that he considers important. Well, except for maybe two people. One of whom just left him in the dust."
He grinned, leaning against a tree, impressed with how passionate this child was getting. What a lovely toy~ "There's a reason why as well. All his life those he's cared for and cared about have left him. His mother, his father, his brother, his past lovers, his colonies, his beloved leaders, his friends, his entire family... Everyone has abandoned him at some point. He's been backstabbed more times than he can count. He has a huge heart, don't get me wrong. He loves everyone and doesn't want to see anyone hurt." He took a deep breath, giving an annoyed sigh. "Only problem is, that's his weakness. He tries to love everyone but not everyone wants that. He gets hurt easily. So he needs me to protect him when he gets hurt. No matter what you do I'll still be there."
He clenched and un-clenched his fist. His time was running up, he could feel it. Anton didn't feel threatened anymore so he could take over again.
Oh well, he might as well enjoy this.
"Heh, it looks like you won't get to save him this time. He wants to come back now." He smiled, bowing politely. "I rather enjoyed this chat. I haven't gotten the chance to talk to someone in quite some time. Centuries, probably. However, it seems that it's time for your Spain to return. Adios, America. Perhaps I'll see you again."
With that final good-bye, he closed his eyes, leaning back against the tree and blacking out, though he slightly felt the 'thud' of his head hitting the ground.
Anti-climatic, sure. But that was what normally happened. They just... Switch.
|
|
|
Post by America on Dec 28, 2012 17:48:54 GMT -5
America didn't believe a word of it. Obviously, this alter-ego knew nothing of his steadfast determination and his ability to complete things that others couldn't. America was strong enough to save any nation he wanted. He'd be strong enough to save Spain.
And he suddenly wondered why he was making it a personal goal to rescue Spain from his other self. They really weren't the best of friends at all. They were civil, yes, but America wouldn't go so far as to call them buddies. Was it just for the sole fact that he didn't like to see Spain hurting so bad?
But it wasn't the alter-ego hurting Spain. Spain didn't seem to want it to go away. If anything, it just seemed to help Spain get rid of all his stress and pain.
Confused, America moved forward as Spain hit the ground, quickly bending over to settle the brunette in his lap, staring down at his face. So Spain didn't need his saving. However, the knowledge of Spain's past, the awful trials he had to endure, made America's heart tighten, and he sighed. Spain did need help. Spain needed to know that he had people he could trust.
"I'll make sure you can trust me," America muttered, hoping Spain would wake up soon- it wouldn't do to carry an unconscious body back to the warehouse.
|
|
|
Post by [x] Spain on Dec 28, 2012 18:12:48 GMT -5
Luckily, fate seemed to like Anton - the normal Anton - as he woke up a moment or two later. He didn't hear what the American muttered, but he heard something, and that triggered him to wake up.
"Mmmnn..." He groaned, holding his head. Damn his head hurt. He must've hit it or something. "What time is it?" He asked weakly, sitting up and trying to remember what happened. He clearly missed something since he was all the way outside and he could feel the blood and guts on his legs--
Ugh. Disgusting.
He turned his attention back to America who must've come to help him. Maybe he was gone longer than he thought. "Did England send you to find me?" Inquiring, he stretched his arms above his head, noticing how he didn't have any wounds. Good, so he didn't get even more hurt. "By the way... Do you know what happened? I remember leaving the warehouse, but after that it's kind of a blur."
|
|
|
Post by America on Dec 28, 2012 18:43:40 GMT -5
America jerked back when Spain came to, releasing him from his arms. His cheeks turned red as he realized how awkward that might have been if Spain was paying attention closer. "I didn't do a thing to you, I swear it!" he assured (sort of needlessly) when Spain asked his question.
Then his blush intensified when he realized how incredibly guilty he sounded.
"I meant, uh, you kinda went berserk." He cleared his throat and stood from the ground, brushing dirt off of his pants and trying not to meet Spain's eyes. "This guy - your alter-ego, I think - took you over and you were a lot different." He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "You killed a bunch of zombies," he gave a gesture towards the pile of undead creatures. "'Cept you did it real violently, so now you got blood and shit all over your pants."
What else was he supposed to tell Spain? "Yes, your alter-ego and I had a lovely discussion about your past." Nope, not happening. However, he knew it wouldn't be right to just keep that knowledge to himself. He had to let Spain know that he was fully aware of the pain he had been under all those years before.
Looking away, America added, "And your other self blabbed a little bit to me about, uh, stuff."
|
|
|
Post by [x] Spain on Dec 28, 2012 20:33:48 GMT -5
Anton raised an eyebrow when he said he didn't do anything because that wasn't exactly his priority at the moment.
What his priority was was figuring out what happened to him.
His heart dropped when he was told he went berserk. So he saw all of it then... Now what? The only person to ever witness that happen was Francis who knew how to handle it... He was so deep into his thoughts he nearly missed him say that he talked with his other half.
"Wait... You talked with it?" That really confused him. His other side never talked as far as he knew. "What did you talk about? It couldn't have been good..."
|
|
|
Post by America on Dec 28, 2012 20:57:36 GMT -5
America nodded, still not meeting Spain's eyes. He didn't want to tell him that he knew his secret. Yeah, he had to, since it was the right thing to do, but that sort of a secret seemed too personal for him to know about. It seemed tabooed, almost, and he instantly hated himself for prying.
If he hadn't had been so curious, he probably would have never figured out, and it would have been better. Now, he couldn't help but feel pity well up whenever he looked at Spain.
And, worse, he couldn't help but feel horror well up when he thought of England's actions, and what other things his boyfriend might have been hiding from him.
"We, uh, we talked about you and, um...um, you and England." He swallowed nervously, finally glancing over at Spain and trying to hide the pity he felt. "He told me what happened when England captured you and, yeah."
He shuffled nervously on his feet, biting the inside of his cheek, and feeling horribly guilty for knowing.
|
|
|
Post by [x] Spain on Dec 28, 2012 22:09:01 GMT -5
That was the last thing he wanted to have happen. He was sure that America could handle him when he was berserk, but knowing that his other talked to him and about his past to... He would have done anything to protect him and not have him know about any of that. Everything would change and he didn't want anything to change. Everything was balanced precariously on his gossamer strings and now that they were broken, everything was falling apart.
"I see..." he said eventually, realizing that there was nothing he could do about it. The past was the past. It was time to move on and figure out how to handle now. "I'm sorry. I have no control over him." He rubbed his arm, far too ashamed to meet the other's eyes or even look any higher than his shoes.
But just sitting here in self-loathing wouldn't do anything to help either of them. Gathering his strength, he stood up and took a deep breath, shaking his arms to calm himself down and let go of what he could not control. "In that case, there's only one thing we can do." He finally turned towards him, setting a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Don't tell ANYONE what you witnessed and what you know. Absolutely no one."
He paused, eyes widening with a sudden realization. America would probably go crazy if he had to keep this to himself. Lucky for the both of them, someone else know. "However, if you feel the need to talk to someone about it, Francis knows." He gave a soft, reassuring smile for the both of them. "Go to him if you need help or have any questions."
|
|