Eh. Going to just do this here.
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:18pm
Thread Topic: Eh. Going to just do this here.
-
"Come along, now. You'll get lost."
"Sim! Espere, papai! Voce esta andando muito rapido! Devagar! Papai!"
The tall black-haired man looked back to see the small little boy run as quickly as he could. Multiple times the brown curls would fall to the ground. The white dress he was in would become dirty with grass stains and dirt. Tears formed in his green eyes. "Espere.." he cried, slowing down due to the cries. "Por favor.."
At once, the man stopped. "What is wrong, Esteban?"
The boy pouted and whimpered loudly. "Nao me deixe.. Eu nao quero ir com a Franca ou Espanha de novo.. Ricardo, por favor aguarde!"
Suddenly he knew what Esteban was talking about. Getting lost again. Having to go back with France and Spain. It happened three times, when Portugal was stupid enough to fall under their trap. He was a prisoner with Brazil for a while with Spain. There, things were not so bad.
When finally Ricardo was free from Antonio.. It happened again. But this time, with Francis. It became even worse. There he was treated almost as a pet. Made to follow him around. Esteban hated that the most. He hated to see Ricardo being brought around like if he had no dignity.
Finally he broke free.. but once again, Antonio held him captive. This time, with much more caution. It was then when Esteban had met three of Antonio's 'children', two of which would have become his work partners later. The other would become the lover of another. But though he did enjoy seeing them there, everyday, he hated to see Ricardo struggle, to become desperate. but he didn't know that the struggling would result in their ultimate freedom.
And when it happened.. it resulted in cries from Ricardo. Happy, ecstatic cries. Almost screams of joy would come from him.
Though it happened a long time from the present, Esteban would not forget it. He always cried about not wanting to go back with them. It had traumatized him. Ricardo hated himself secretly for having to make him go through that. If only I didn't fall for their traps.. Now Esteban struggles so much..
"Esteban.. I'm not going to leave you. Come along now. I'll wait for you here."
The tears rolled down his cheeks and he dried them with the white sleeves of his dress. His green eyes shone lightly once more, and he ran to Ricardo. The older man held out his arms, and Esteban jumped into them. "Leva-me... Eu nao quero que voce me deixou para tras, papai..." he whined softly.
"Sure. Hold onto me. It's time we go home."
"Sim.."
And so Ricardo carried him. Through the whole walk, he wondered if there was something he could have done to prevent falling for the traps he was set on. It was an unbearable thought, to know that maybe if he had been less ignorant he would have known what to do. But it couldn't be changed now. It could only be bared with, together.
Esteban yawned. He yawned again. Suddenly he snuggled against the man, his brown curls bobbing as he did so. "Estou cansado.."
"It's alright. Go to sleep Esteban. You're tired." Ricardo insisted. "I'll carry you. Don't worry."
The young boy nodded and closed his eyes slowly. "Eu te amo, papai.. Boa noite..~"
Suddenly, something ran through Ricardo's system. Not sadness, not happiness but.. worry? "I love you too, Brazil. Have a good night."
He watched the boy doze off, and he became absorbed in the beautiful face of the sleeping child, how adorable he was.. It took his breath away.
Then it hit him.
Ricardo understood.
This would not last forever... -
Bringing the cup of coffee down from his mouth and back onto the table, Ricardo made a face of curiosity. "What was that, again, Esteban?"
A much older Esteban groaned. "Dad, come on and listen! Look, the newspapers read that Mexico and Argentina are independent from Spain~! Don't you remember them?"
Ricardo lifted his brow. "Ah, them. Argentina was the blonde one that was always around that little girl, right? Mexico was.. Ah, he was the one that liked to play ball with you. Is it so, that they have become independent?"
The younger rolled his eyes. "Chile wasn't a girl! He only dressed like that because he thought Argentina wouldn't like him. Anyway, that's them. The newspapers say they're independent, and look, a lot of other countries too. Remember the twins?"
Portugal thought for a moment. "One had glasses and was very shy.. the other was very assertive and protective.. Paraguay and Uruguay? Is that right? Are they independent too?"
Esteban nodded, a big grin on his face. "Isn't that amazing? It's like.. So inspiring for some reason! I want to go see them now, I want to ask them how it feels to be free!"
Ricardo was about to take a drink of his coffee once more, but he dropped it. It fell on the floor. The material shattered and the coffee spread on the floor. It almost represented his anger, how it had broken suddenly and spread. "You are doing no such thing. You are staying with me, Esteban."
"But--!"
"Enough. You're not going to see them, do you understand? Now you get back to studying. I want you to grow up and be smarter than those two. How dare they respect Antonio! Weren't they taught manners?" Ricardo rambled quite angrily.
"Hey, you hate Antonio! Why are you whining?" Brazil questioned, curiosity rising like Portugal's anger. "Look, you did the very same too! You got independence too! What you did was no different to what they did."
Portugal's hands formed into fists. "Young boy! You don't talk back! Go to your room, right now! I want to see you study!" His blue eyes snapped as he yelled at the younger man. The eyebrows knitted together as his anger became apparent.
Brazil was going to protest, but seeing Ricardo so angry was.. scary. Never had he seen the older man like that. He gave a frightened look, and rushed up the stairs without a further word. Portugal was pleased.
But he didn't know that Brazil was not going to come out of there the next morning.
It had been almost 12 p.m when finally the next day Ricardo wanted him out of his room. "Filho, come out. Filho.. Filho?" He knocked once. Twice. No answer.
Portugal did not believe that it had to come to the point when he'd have to use the knife to open the door. He stuck the tip into the small opening of the key hole, and twisted it around. The door unlocked and opened.
And there was no one there.
"Filho?!"
He became very frightened. What had happened to Esteban?
He looked through the closets and did not find anything but less clothing than there was before. The bed was done neatly, and the room was much cleaner than usual. Then suddenly, a glimpse of yellow from he mirror. Portugal rushed the mirror, and found a note with writing on it.
Lamento que eu te fiz com raiva.
Lamento que eu tive que fazer isso.
Mas eu deixei para encontrar Argentina e Mexico.
Voltarei.
Esteban
The note did not register in his mind at first. He went to find Argentina and Mexico? Were the two coming over to greet?
But he got it suddenly.
He had run away. He was seeking freedom. Finally, he had snapped.
Before he knew it, Ricardo rushed out the room, screaming, "Filho! I am going to find you, don't worry!"
What he thought before was true.
It would not last forever. -
"Hey~! Brazil, come on! Stay at my place, yes? You're more than welcome to for now, you know~," a blonde haired man laughed, tugging on Esteban's arm. His green eyes showed playfulness and a smile covered his features. "Don't be so stiff, dude! It's completely fine with me, once you get on your feet."
Esteban shook his head. "No, I promised Portugal I would return." He gave a rather innocent look after he said that. "By the way, uhm.. I was expecting a greeting from Mexico actually? He always told me--"
The blonde laughed. "Jaja, really? No dude, he's getting married. He's pretty busy. And that wife of his would get really mad at you for staying." He began to play with a curl that peeked out of his hair, and he blushed. "He settled down too fast. I guarantee you that he and Guatemala won't last very long. They don't fit together.." He blushed even more. "I've remained to stay single until the right one comes along.. Poor little Blanca and I didn't last.." He sighed and closed his eyes. "It's like I can still remember her touch.."
"But.." Esteban pouted. "With her...? No, he told me.." He brushed away his sentence. They were young when Mexico told him that he didn't really like girls. He must of changed. "Anyway.. You understand Blanca was really a boy, right...? Her name was really Alvaro." He sighed a little. "We're so off track.. Look, I think I'll just take the land above you and make a house there, my plans changed and I don't want to bother you."
"Yes, yes, I understood she was a boy. But I always gave her the pleasure of thinking she was fooling me. But now that he's taken off the dress.. It's like all of a sudden he hates me," he sighed. "Anyways you're right about us going off track again. You're free to take the land above mine and to build your house there.. And I warn you." His face turned serious. It seemed as though a dark cloud washed over his features. "You'll want to live this while well.. Unlike Portugal, you knew where we were. But once he knows where you are exactly.. He'll be here faster than I can dance tango. Live the little time you have to the fullest." He patted Brazil's back. "Good luck bro. I'm cheering with you."
The younger male smiled a little. "Thank you Argentina.. I hope your freedom works out well for you.. And.. tell--"
Argentina interrupted. "I'll tell him to take care of her well and that you said hi. Don't sweat it. He's missing out so much just by not being here."
After that, they shook hands and Esteban was on his way. The land Argentina had above him was large and unoccupied completely. Brazil enjoyed it a lot. He built his house there, and soon people began to live around the area as well.. Soon enough, Brazil had his group of people who he began to call Brasilenos.
But the day came.
It had been a regular, quiet day. Very peaceful as usual. But a knock at Esteban's door changed everything. At first, he thought it was one of the Brasilenos who came by to give him some sugar, or coffee. But this time it wasn't.
It was Ricardo.
"Wh.. What are you doing here?" Esteban whispered in fear, holding the side of his doorway tightly. But something in his eyes said he was intent on knowing what Portugal wanted to get him out of there.
"I can't believe you just ran off like that! I've been looking for you for such a long time, Esteban! What got into you?! Are you crazy? The anxiety and stress nearly killed me!" Ricardo said loudly, glaring at Esteban through his glasses. "You're crazy! You're coming home with me, right now."
"But--!"
Portugal growled lightly. "No buts. You are coming home, young boy! Right now. Come along."
Brazil shook his head. "No!"
Ricardo held his arm tightly and tried to yank him outside the house. "Come on...!"
Esteban yanked his arm away. "No..! I'm tired of being your child! I'm tired of you bossing me around! I want to be like Argentina!
"From now on, I want to be independent!" -
Hos--- forgot about this. xD
It wrecked hell on them both.
Ricardo gathered up many Portuguese soldiers and occupied Brazil. He would not leave. He began to take lives of the Brasilenos. He finally cracked.
Esteban gathered up people he knew and formed an army. They didn't do much but protect the people. He really couldn't do much other than that. Portugal was much more advanced than he was. He had better weapons and had more smarts when it came to war.
So for a long time it remained like that. Portugal occupied Brazil and nothing changed. It was almost as though Esteban hadn't left from Ricardo's house. It was like if they were back at home, only this time Portugal would not speak with Brazil at all. If Brazil tried, Portugal would take the life of another Brasileno.
One day, while Portugal was occupied with something, Brazil ran to Argentina's place to ask for help. When he knocked, there was no answer.
"Dude! Argentina, come on and open up this is totally not a good situation for you to ignore me!" he spazzed, knocking even more. Yet Javier did not open the door, and now Esteban was getting desperate. Any second, Portugal may be looking for him.
"ARGENTINA!"
A few moments later, the door flung open and a small blonde girl stomped out. Her clothing was undone and her hair was a bit messy.
Argentina followed behind. "Venezuela, look--!"
The girl grumbled and rolled her eyes. "You've got a visitor! You shouldn't have lied to me, you perverted b------! You said you weren't even busy! Don't even try to talk to me anymore." She sneered and walked away without further word.
Argentina was quiet for a moment, then he glared at Brazil. He scowled. "You...! That was the only person I've had contact with after Chile..! It's been five f---ing years!" He pushed the other man forward. "Get the f--- out of my home!"
The older man whimpered. "Argentina--!"
His response was rewarded with a harsh slap to the face. "Leave! I don't want to see your f---ing ass around here, EVER!"
That was how Brazil left with multiple bruises on his body, and the will to cry. He had lost his friend, and all because of ignorance to knowing that the younger man had a visitor.
It seemed that his life was falling apart, event after event. His only choice now would be to bother the only person who still liked him.
This time the run to the house was much, much farther, but Brazil did get there, and tired. He knocked on the door once, and waited. No response. This time Brazil didn't knock again, he began to leave from the little home's front porch before someone else would get mad at him.
But the door did open, and then a familiar deep voice called out to him and said, "Wait up! I'm at the door now, wait up!"
Brazil turned around and saw the short figure, his old friend. The younger man had given Esteban a smile, and Esteban had wondered where his wife was. "Brazil, we have to make this quick. I'm not allowed to see you because I will get in trouble with Portugal." The black-haired man smiled a little more sympathetically.
"Dude, Mexico.. You have to help me..! Portugal is going to kill me and the Brasilenos!" Esteban cried, trying to otherwise remain calm.
The younger man stayed quiet for a while, and said softly, "This is not my fight. This is yours. If you are really ready to be independent, you must do it yourself." Then he slammed the door on him.
For a second, Esteban was surprised by his old friend's reaction. Was he crazy? He could never beat Portugal!
But he would realize why the younger's answer was so short.
A few seconds later, a hand covered his mouth. It reeked of gas. He struggled against the hand and tired to break free of the hard grip holding him in place. But before he knew it, he had passed out from lack of oxygen. -
Esteban: *slaps the lazy out of Alice* xD Continue this I want to know what happpeeennns.
Tsk. >:P You already know what happens..
When he woke up, his arms ached and they were also lacking from circulation. They were almost purple. A piece of rope was tied around his head, choking him if he tried to speak. For a second, he tried to absorb all this information.
Then he began to kick and scream like crazy. He acted in such a way that it seemed he had gone insane. He bucked his head and thrust his entire body, wanted to break free of the rope. As he began to realize that the attempt was quite fruitless, he felt tears fall down his cheeks and muffled screams turn into whines.
"Portugal.. Portugal.." he whimpered as the struggles weakened. He closed his eyes, and he knew at once that he was defeated. Portugal was too strong for him. Why can't he just die right there, right then? It'd make the situation for Portugal easier.
Suddenly, a door opened. A small c---le from the darker side of the room. Then the figure of the man who had taken care of him all these years. He seemed innocent, until a perverse smile appeared on his face, his blue eyes lit up, and he quite proudly displayed the knife by his side. But it wasn't an ordinary knife.. It was a machete.
He walked up to Brazil with that little smile, and untied the rope around his face. The second the pressure was not there anymore, Brazil took in deep gulps of air, seeming almost like an animal. His body shook and he felt almost relieved.
But Portugal wasn't finished.
He put the tip of the machete under Brazil's chin, and forcefully brought his head up so that his bright green eyes would look in his own blue eyes. The smile became a frown, and he said, "I think you know what I'm going to propose."
Brazil growled lowly. "Pare..! Pare ja! Let me go already!" he said, staring up hatefully into the older's eyes. "Where did you get that machete?! Where?" he cried at once, his voice demanding an answer.
Ricardo smiled. "Oh, I made a little deal with that friend of yours.. If he gave it to me, I wouldn't put war on him either for interfering with this.." The wide became even wider. "He instantly agreed when I shoved the gun to his head.."
Esteban looked at him through wide eyes. "You're a monster. You're not Ricky."
"You did this to me."
Brazil looked down. "It's my fault, I know.." He looked back up. "But it's your fault I'm doing this.." AT that moment, he threw his head forward so it would hit the elder's stomach. Portugal fell back and gasped for air while Brazil tossed the chair back, having untied himself. He felt blood run through his arms and he felt that finally, he could feel. He let out mental relived gasp, and looked at Portugal on the floor.
"This is war! Gather up your soldiers. We are fighting this like men!" -
Lol, GTQ censors cack? Probably put it as cock. xD
-
*smacked*
Brasil: Hurreh. >:U
>.>
They didn't know that the next day would be the last day of battle.
It had rained all night, and in the morning it sprinkled. But in the afternoon when Brasil set out, it was pouring again. The soldiers whined. But Brasil said nothing. The rain was nothing compared to all the torture he went through the last night.
At night he had nightmare after nightmare. They were so unclear, it was so peculiar that he couldn't tell what was going on. Just foggy dreams, blurry figures and worst of all.. Just no realization of what was going on. But it must have been horrible, he woke up in a cold sweat and one of the soldiers had to calm him down.
"Are you okay?"
Esteban closed his eyes for a moment, remained quiet. "I am fine." He opened his eyes, the usually bright green orbs now shining dully. He gave a lazy look and whispered "Is there any activity?"
"No sir. It's been quiet all evening."
His eyes closed again. "Good." He sighed heavily and stayed still for a while. Before he knew it, he was asleep again.
When he woke up, the rain pounded on the camp site. The soldiers were dressing and mumbling in Portuguese. Here and there they would laugh, but it was very serious laughter. If that was even possible. Brazil got up and held his head. "Ahh.. what time is it..?"
"A little after dawn, sir. It's good to see you up," they replied in Portuguese. A slight nod and back to work.
Brazil got up lazily, and changed into his suit. He looked at everyone else, who had been giving him a strange look. "Eh?" he asked, feeling a pain rise to his head. And chest too.
"You seem off, sir."
Esteban sighed and waved his hand. 'Enough, don't worry. I'm fine." The pain grew and he felt faint for a second. His breathing became irregular. His walking became crooked. Suddenly his entire body crumpled to the ground with a loud thud.
"Sir!"
A dozen rushed to help him up, but nobody actually got to help him up. He helped himself up and he looked at the others with a blank look. He was panting heavily and leaning against the wall. "I'm fine. I'm fine." His knees buckled once, twice. He bit his lip and closed his eyes tightly, as though he were trying to keep something in. That was it. Afterwards it was as if nothing had happened.
"What was wrong?"
"Nothing."
It must have been some breakdown. Something that may have snapped in him. But what he knew is that he had wanted to cry.
When he went to drink water, he drank from it like crazy. He felt weak, he knew his life depended on a thing. Like how he had depended on a person for so long. Ashamed he was, looking at the reflection in the water, the mess of brown curls covering his head. His green eyes dull and sorrowful. He whimpered and tried to scratch out the face. He let out high pitched cries, seeming almost like an animal. Such an sad, ugly man! He would never be capable of holding off.
But he saw it suddenly, the new face that appeared. This was different. It was an angered face, one that showed a little rebel. His thoughts were filled with willful thoughts, though more likely thoughts full of won'ts. I won't lose. I won't become him toy. I won't give up.
It was when they trudged up a hill in the rain later on, that the soldiers asked him if he was okay. He was tired. He panted heavily and his eyes were red. The mud on his boots only slowed him down even more.
He had said he was fine. After the hill, Portugal would wait. He knew he couldn't give up now. He had gotten too far.
They went up, up, up, until finally they reached the top. Brasil took a deep breath, and looked down.
Below, he could see Portugal and his perverse smile splattered across his face.
"Hello Esteban. Are you ready?"
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