vatheon | (no subject)

Entry tags:

canada (matthew williams)

(no subject)

Who:

unnoticeable
When: during gilbert's arrival.
Where: canada's apartment.
Style: starting in third, but feel free to switch to [brackets] if you'd like. i don't mind either at all.
Status: closed.

"S- sorry. Orwell doesn't ring a bell. Is he a new writer?" He did sound interested in it, however, as the subject sounded possibly intriguing. On the other hand, it was also something that he could look into later on his own. In the meantime, he was offering him that towel finally. "Right now, I live in Yutopil apartments near Nostalgia Nook. It's quite a nice building, really. We can go there now, if you'd like."

With a friendly enough smile, he waited for a moment or two before starting back in the direction he came from. "The starfish is actually a communcations device around here. It's like a..." There was a slight pause as he looked for the proper word he was trying to find. "Cell phone, I believe. You can talk to people over it like using a regular phone, send them text messages, or even video chat. As a default, however, the thing broadcasts across the network as a whole so everyone can pretty much see whatever it is that you're doing. Of course, you can also hold private conversations over it." He hoped it was a simple enough explanation but sometimes he did have a habit of accidentally making things more complicated than they should be.

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Gilbert understood the explanation well enough. He was a bit of a technophile, and tinkered with his mobile phone, or blackberry, or laptop on a regular enough basis - enough to have his brother bark at him for 'wrecking' several expensive pieces of electronics. It made him want to pick apart the starfish communicator though. What an advanced piece of technology...! Not even the modern mobiles could efficiently do video chat. That was still left to Skype, or other laptop styled webcams.

"Mn, I get it..." Gilbert murmured, finally reaching the stairs that Canada had told him about earlier. He made his way down them. He winced when his bare feet stepped on a sharp, small stone, and paused to spit out a curse and hop on one foot. He picked the stone out of the sole of his foot. "Autsch! Dammit..."

Being in his nightwear, he obviously didn't have any shoes - or even socks! - so his feet were steadily getting pained from repeatedly stepping on sharp stones. He tolerated it so far, since he had pretty thick callouses on his soles, but bare feet lasted only for so long.

"But, er, back to Orwell...he's an old writer. You seriously haven't heard of him? George Orwell? 1984? Animal Farm? Eh, he's England's pride and joy. Tossed his book at my head one time at the pub and I just kept it, and read it. For such a grumpy bastard, his writers sure know how to write an awesome story."

"...I probably should have brought an extra pair of shoes as well. Sorry about that, eh." Unfortunately he hadn't even thought of that since it wasn't often he ran into that problem. On the other hand, it also wasn't often that he ran across people who were half-dressed. Oh well. Next time he'll have to try and remember, anyway.

To try and spare poor Gilbert's feet, Canada at least took him through some yards instead of staying on the sidewalks and streets. He could also take a shortcut that way, too, so that there was less potentially harmful things to step on.

"To be totally honest, the answer to why I don't know about Orwell would probably only serve to make you even more confused." There wsas a bit of a pause before he offered an apologetic smile and continued on with it, anyway. "Remember when I said that time here doesn't really correspond with passing time back home and that people can be from a variety of years?" The answer was wrapped up in that little tidbit of information he had provided earlier. "Generally speaking, I tend to be from a time period a bit earlier than most of the others who are here." Most of the time he does well to hide it but there are still the occasional moments when it's a bit obvious.

"Thankfully I won't tell England you said that about his writers, too, should he ever show back up again. You know how he can get." It was a shame England wasn't around any more. "Anyway, it can be pretty quiet around here so people pretty much do their own thing. The locals rarely bother anyone and they're actually friendly enough to get along with." Most of the time, anyway.

Gilbert tried to wrap his brain around Canada's explanation. So...this Canada was not the Canada that Gilbert had ran into only a week ago for pancakes? But a Canada from an earlier time period? If time was linear...then Canada would've at least mentioned getting kidnapped and sent to live in an underwater city before. Unless /that/ Canada did not return, and instead, while one Canada remained here, another Canada remained back there - so does that mean the same held true for Prussia? He stayed here, but another remained back home?

...

Ow, Gilbert's head...he didn't have much of a mind for abstract ideas like these. He preferred the style of 'see enemy, obstacles in way, somehow stab with sword' riddles. Very much like Ludwig, they held the logical German thinking of straightforwardness. Everything had a method to it. Nothing was unsure or thrown up to abstract ideals.

"I see." Gilbert settled for saying instead, not wanting to betray his complete confusion on the situation. "How strange. Well which time period do you come from then? I'm from 2012, and nobody seemed to mention getting kidnapped at any point during their lives..." Unless...when they returned, the memories were stricken from their mind forever.

Did that mean that Prussia had been kidnapped before at some point then? But he simply didn't remember? A shudder crawled up his spine at the thought. Ugh, that made him feel...violated.

He finally reached the bottom of the stairs, and not seeing Canada, sat down at the last step. He was drying off a little now, but he was still a little damp, and still very very cold. "I reached the bottom of the stairs. I'll just wait for you here."

"It can get a bit confusing, can't it?" Really, Canada didn't blame him one bit for being confused about the whole thing if he was as sometimes he wasn't even too sure how it worked. "It doesn't help that people can be here, leave, then come back again and never remember being here. He's usually not a good example, but take America in this case. He was here even before I was, left, came back, and remembered it. He then left again, came back, and didn't remember it. Left again, came back... and didn't remember anything again about ever being here. Italy has also been here before but he back again and doesn't remember it." Okay so Italy probably wasn't a good example, either, but it was still another example of someone being there and not remembering. He's pretty Japan left for a little bit as well, but Japan still remembered being there before.

"So I'm not really too sure if anything is remembered once we go back home or not since..." Wait. Give him a moment to think about that. "Has Austria ever said anything about being here before?" At the very least he figured that Gilbert might have heard something in passing since he's sure that Austria would have complained about being in Vatheon if he remembered it when he went back home.

"Sorry. I disappeared off for a few moments to check on something." At least he had finally showed up at the bottom of the stairs and was waving. "The question of when I'm from is a bit awkward to answer, but it's only fair I do." Again there was a slight pause as he looked down just a bit. "I'm from 1917. Late in the year, really."

Then there was a slight, okay sudden, change in conversation. "We can go back to my apartment or stop by one of the stores if you'd like."

Gilbert grunted and fumbled with the Starfish Communicator when he saw Canada, deciding to carry on the conversation face to face. He managed to switch it off somehow, and held it loosely in his hand (since he had no pockets) as he pushed himself up and walked over to Canada.

"Nah, let's just go straight to your place. My feet are killing me and I'm cold..." his voice started to gain a whining edge to it, a faint pout tugging down at his lips. He dropped the immature expression quickly though, and frowned in thought. "No. Austria didn't mention a thing, but I don't hang around to listen to Lord Prude. I leave him to sip his stupid tea with Bruderchen." Gilbert rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't fall out of his skull. "Those two act so refined, but they're like wives gossiping over a spot of afternoon tea."

However, Canada's words solidified a worrisome conclusion Gilbert had come to. This place...whatever it was, devoured the memories of living there. Anyone who returned back to their place, probably not a second after they had been 'kidnapped', carried on with their lives as if nothing had happened. That was creepy, and Gilbert had to urge to wash himself, paranoid that he had been here multiple times and just didn't know.

This place really was disturbing. It was making him twitchy - that, or he was shivering violently enough for it to pass as twitching. He was just tired. He wanted to sleep and be warm and dryyyy...and have food, specifically chocolate...

Perhaps it was better that nobody seemed to remember a thing when they arrived back home. On the other hand, it was also a bit of a disappointment since friendships were lost and nobody would remember speaking to someone on a consistent basis or anything else like that. All that effort would be lost once more.

Canada didn't wish to laugh, but he couldn't help it. He could certainly see Austria being refined and acting like a gossiping wife but certainly not Germany. The thought of it seemed just so... humorous. Like one of those 'spot the differences' puzzles or something like that. Quickly covering the laugh with a slight cough, he gestured towards an apartment building that wasn't too far away. "I live right over there. We can cut through the yards. I checked. There's really not much in the way of things to step on other than grass." ...there might be the occasional decorative rock, but those were easy enough to avoid.

"Once we get there, I can get you something dry to wear if you'd like." Or at the very least a pair of socks and a warm blanket but that wasn't being as polite of a host as he'd like to be. "Perhaps something to eat as well if you'd like, unless you're tired and would rather take a nap first." That shivering/twitching also hadn't slipped past him, either. "So how are you feeling right now?"

...aside from overwhelmed, confused, and probably wanting to punch whoever was in charge still.

Gilbert looked over to where Canada indicted, and supposed that the soft springy grass of someone's back garden would be easier on his bruised soles than hard, unforgiving pavement. He nodded, raking his fingers through his hair. The pale strands were drying, but still damp enough to slick back in a messier style similar to his brother. The resemblance to Germany was uncanny, the image broken by Gilbert raking his fingers forward and ruffling his hair up once more.

"I think I'll eat something before napping. I'll just wake up grumpy then," Gilbert admitted. Well he was grumpy now, but, well,he'd be grumpier, and nobody wanted that. "But warm clothes sound like a Godsend right now."

"Nh, I'll live. I'm just fricken' cold and annoyed - not at you. You've been a saint and I will love you forever for it - but damn. Argh, this situation is crazy. And it bugs me. And I want to punch Austria now." Punching Austria always made him feel better, even if it brought down the wrath of Hungary and her iron skillet from Hell.

"I have a wonderfully soft, worn-in shirt with a maple leaf on it I think you'll like." It was hard to tell if he was actually just attempting a joke with that or if he was being serious as he probably did really own a shirt like that. Whether or not he'd actually go as far as to give it out was another matter entirely. "Anything in particular you'd like? I can fix just about anything." Assuming he had the ingredients. Though even if he didn't, he'd be more than willing to run to the store and pick up anything he needed since he wouldn't consider it going out of his way for anything.

"I wouldn't advise punching Austria though. The immediate gratification probably isn't worth the long-term pain." Or the lingering bruises caused by skillets of doom. But enough about that since he's sure Gilbert didn't wish to linger on that subject. "You're more than welcome to stay as long as you want. I have plenty of room."

Thankfully he also avoided jumping any fences during his little detour back with Gilbert. As much fun as it sounded, he figured that Gilbert wasn't quite in the mood for it or anything like that.

"On the plus side, at least there's a few familiar faces around so at least you'll have a few somewhat familiar people to talk with." It was a bit comforting to him at least that there was still familiar faces around. And as much as he loved to see new ones turn up, it was also something he felt sorry about since it meant that they were then stuck there as well.

Gilbert thought a wonderfully soft, worn-in shirt with a maple leaf on it sounded absolutely lovely. He nodded a little, holding the starfish communicator in his hand a bit tighter as they stepped through people's back gardens. Thankfully they didn't have to scramble over any fences or the like. Gilbert could do it, easily - he'd even be able to throw a flip in there! - but with bare feet? No way. He'd probably get splinters off the wooden fences, or catch on protruding metal bits on the chain link ones. "Anything is fine, really. So long as it's hot and delicious. Maybe some of your awesome pancakes."

There was a pause. "So how does housing work here, anyway?" Gilbert asked. He didn't feel guilty mooching off of Canada. He mooched off of his brother for the past two decades, after all, although, really, Gilbert was the one that put the German empire together and /gave/ it to his brother, so he could lurk in his basement all he wanted, since it used to be his. Regardless though, Gilbert had turned mooching in a brilliant art form. "I'm guessing you had to get a...job or something to pay for housing, or...what? Do they just give it to you...?"

"Much as pretty much all of the stores are free except those in Nostalgia Nook, so is all the housing. You just find somewhere you want to live and pretty much just move in." There was, of course, that minor step of making sure that the place was uninhabited but he was pretty sure he didn't actually have to mention that. "So you really don't have to get any sort of job unless you want to. Doing the occasional odd job around will gain you starfish tokens from the locals which is what is used in Nostalgia Nook but that's the only place that requires anything." So pretty much Gilbert was free to live wherever he wanted. Plus after having Korea pretty much move in before and claim Canada's apartment as his own, long-term guests didn't really bother him much.

...just as long as they didn't start claiming everything and affirming that it was made in their country or something. Or claiming chests for that matter. But that was one of those odd little side stories best suited for some other time.

"We're just about there." Which was good. The building was just up ahead and seeing that he didn't lock the door it was just a matter of opening the door. "I'll get that change of clothes for you and then make some pancakes while you're changing and getting settled." Obviously he'd never reject any offer to make pancakes (though sometimes he might try and put it off if suggestions for pancakes came in at ungodly hours of the morning and he was trying to sleep). "If Karma's on the couch, feel free to chase him off. He's been there all day."

Gilbert hummed, taking in the information with a thoughtful expression. So, the people who kidnapped them at least allowed them free housing and food? Awfully generous of them. Although that brought up the fact /why/ they would go through so much trouble to kidnap a great group of people - from all over the world at different time periods - and place them in the same spot under the sea (and also, if people came from different time periods, did that mean that this place existed out of time? Did time even flow here? No, there was obvious day and night here...) and letting them have whatever they wanted, this 'Nostalgia Nook' aside.

It was all very suspicious, and Gilbert hated suspicious things. Plots and schemes were things very familiar to him, but he had hoped he left all of that convoluted thinking behind when he was effectively 'retired' after WWII.

He was quiet as they walked the remaining distance to Canada's house. He thought the building looked quite nice. Modest yet spacious, and definitely very warm inside, with a nice soft plush carpet. Oh man, that was awesome on his feet. He stopped shivering as badly, and looked about. "Karma?"

For the time being, he decided to spare Gilbert the full history lesson about the place as it included details about people actually going missing around Halloween and showing back up later, acting all strange and unlike themselves. As well, they had found weird things but couldn't remember it so it went right along with that whole plotting and scheming thing. There was definitely more to the place than met the eye and sometimes some possibly shady things going on in dark places, but details like that was probably best left until later.

"Kumanju. You know. The polar bear that always hangs around with me?" Kumanju. Karma. Kumajirou. It was all right about the same, right? Pretty much, anyway. At least he knew who he was talking about. And tended to at least get the first letter right and a few other letters here and there.

"If you wait here a moment, I'll only be gone for a few minutes." Of course Gilbert was also free to wander around if he wanted. Canada was just quickly darting off to get those clean, dry clothes. For the most part, he kept the place quite clean and orderly. Of course, it still did have that lived-in feel to it at least so it wasn't like it was pristine or anything. Plus he also had made sure that he had awesome, comfortable furniture because it was key to any house or apartment that the furniture be welcoming. ...or because he sometimes fell asleep on them. Either one worked.

Gilbert 'ah'd. Right. The creepy speaking polar bear...thing. Well Gilbert couldn't really talk, since he had Gilbird - ah! That was right! Gilbert patted the top of his head, and briefly looked crushed when the familiar weight of Gilbird was absent. Of course...right, he was in bed when he got snatched up. Poor Gilbird...probably all alone without him. Although it was for the best. Gilbert didn't know if there were any dangers in this weird place, and he wouldn't want the poor bird to get in the way of it all. Besides, Bruderchen would feed and look after him. Well, he better.

Gilbert moved over to the furniture, leaving Karma curled up on the armchair and claimed the sofa for himself. He flopped down on it, groaning in pleasure at sitting on something soft and not standing on his very painful feet. He rested his head against the back of the sofa, closing his eyes, before he suddenly sat up straight and lifted up a foot, brushing off any grass or stones still clinging to the soles. Yuck. His feet were so dirty. Oh well, he'd worry about that later.

It was probably a good thing Gilbert didn't call Kuma creepy around Canada or else he'd have to defend the poor little polar bear. ...well Kuma could probably defend himself, but Canada would still feel it necessary to do so since the bear was his favourite companion. ...and one he had only lately. The first time he had arrived, Kuma hadn't been with him. As much as he would have liked to think it was better off that way, he had missed the bear so having him around made the place feel a bit more like home.

Canada would simply vaccuum later and not say a word about any debris brought inside. It was inevitable, really, and he had sort of expected it. Plus it would have been rude to simply expect Gilbert to clean up since it wasn't like he did it on purpose.

Finally showing back up, he offered he the pile of clothes he had brought with him. ...he really had brought him a shirt with a maple leaf on it. And secretly he even included a pair of red and white socks. The socks, though, were negotiable since he really didn't fully expect him to wear them. "The bathroom's up the stairs and to the left if you feel like cleaning up. After you're ready, I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Gilbert perked up a little at the offer of cleaning up, and he debated. He was wet - and faintly smelling like he took a dip in the ocean (which he supposed he did) - and had muddy feet from walking on pavement and grass...well. Maybe a quick shower would do him some good, and refresh him a little. His eyelids felt so heavy he felt ready to conk out on Canada's coffee table. "Yeah, I think I'll clean up," he said, standing up on his sore feet again and taking the clothes - socks and all - from the blond. "Thanks, buddy," he smiled.

He really didn't understand how people kept forgetting Canada. He was nice and calm, and served the greatest pancakes in the world. And it wasn't like he was plain or anything - his hair was pretty bright, and he carried around a polar bear. You'd have to be legally blind to miss that. Well whatever. It just meant that Gilbert got to horde the pancake maker aaaaaaall to himself, kesesese~

He went up the stairs and to the left, stepping into a clean bathroom. Thankfully the bath and shower didn't look totally alien, and it didn't take long to manage the knobs to know which one gave out hot water, and which one cold. He took the quickest shower in history, not bothering with shampoo or anything (the main thing was to get the mud and smell of ocean off), and dried himself off with a nice fluffy towel.

Gilbert felt totally refreshed when he went downstairs, his hair damp, but smelling clean and dressed in the warm shirt, trousers, and red and white socks. Although Gilbert was slightly taller than Canada, he was smaller in terms of broad shoulders, so the shirt hung off him a little. Gilbert didn't complain. He loved baggy clothes. They were comfy.

"Ahh~ I /really/ needed that!" Gilbert said, apparently back to his usual energetic self as he stepped into the kitchen. "You have no idea!"

Sometimes Canada didn't understand it, either (he also didn't understand how people could mistake him for America, either, but that was another of his little complaints that he kept quiet). Though, now that America was back around, he was worried that people would start mistaking them again. He figured it simply meant he'd just have to apologise for his brother's antics once again and assure people that he really wasn't him.

On the other hand, not being noticed so much also had it's own advantages. He had free time to do whatever he wanted and it meant that those who did actually remember him and know who he was were some pretty decent friends he knew he could count upon.

Looking up from the stove and glancing over, he gave a smile and nod of approval. "That style looks good on you." Biased? Perhaps a little bit. Maybe Gilbert should consider becoming Canadian. They had the best fashion and all the pancakes one could ever want to eat. How could one say no to that?

"How are you feeling? You're looking much better now, anyway." There was a small plate with some toast on it already sitting on the table, waiting to be claimed. He had also brought out the milk and orange juice but hadn't poured anything into the glass sitting next to them since he didn't know which one would be preferred. If either, for that matter. "The toast is already done and I have some bacon finishing up as well."

"Any style looks good on this," Gilbert laughed, gesturing to his body and exaggerating his cocky grin. He snorted and shook his head, stepping over to the table and sitting down in front of the plate of toast. He nibbled on it, using one hand to undo the lid on the bottle of milk. He was met with semi-success. Finally just using his teeth to hold onto the toast, he let the cooked bread balance precariously from his lips as he used both hands to open the bottle of milk and then poured it into the glass. Stupid bottles with their stupidly tightly closed lids.

"Mmph...mn," Gilbert pulled the toast away from his mouth. "I feel a lot better. Still a bit confused and shit, but I think I can worry about the whole kidnapping and living in what's possibly an alternative dimension thingy after food and a nap." He nodded to himself. "Mmhmm...it's not like there's any immediate danger or anything. Ahah, listen to me. I'm scraping the rust off of my paranoid soldier side," he chortled.

"You're lucky that I didn't try to shoot you at first, really. I've been here long enough to know that it wouldn't have solved a thing." For just a moment there was the tiniest of smirks before he gave an apologetic look and went back to flipping a pancake. "Though it never really hurts to be a bit on edge still around here. As nice as it is, there's still something a bit strange about the whole thing since this whole thing isn't really normal." Besides. Letting one's guard down completely and just going with everything and believing it was harmless was never really in anyone's best interest - even if some natives would try to tell people otherwise. "Once there was honest to goodness dinosaurs roaming around this place. They just randomly appeared one day. The first few were decent enough - small and mostly plant eaters - but then the more dangerous ones showed up." There was a tiny shrug as he shook his head. Sometimes truth was stranger than most fiction.

In retrospect, he probably could have opened the bottle but that would have deprived him of that little free show there so it worked itself out in the end. He was just thankful that Gilbert didn't end up dropping the milk and spilling it all over.

"Though you may be onto something with the whole otherly dimensional thing. There's people here from worlds that don't even exist back home. And others from alternate versions of home. It's strange and yet interesting to learn about."

Gilbert's brain was still stuck on 'dinosaurs', but after a moment he said a very bland, "really." Dinosaurs? Alright, so this place obviously existed beyond time - and if there were people who came from different worlds entirely...hm. Well, there were those weird scientists who said that alternative dimensions existed, it was just impossible to breach the lines between them, currently. So if this place existed /out/ of time, perhaps it was...a centre, place...thing...

...whatever...

Gilbert suddenly found himself no longer caring. No matter how much he puzzled over the entire thing, he had too little information to think up a good enough outline of the situation. So he decided to stick with things he did know. He was kidnapped. He was sitting with a 1917 version of Canada (oh, he probably didn't know about WWII or Prussia being dissolved, how strangely...relieving) in his home. Dinosaurs made occasional appearances. Food and housing was free. So.

No more thinking for today. He was giving himself a headache.

"Hmm...all very strange. But enough about it for now. My head hurts from all this crazy stuff." Gilbert grumbled, waving a hand dismissively to gesture that that topic was over and done with for now.

Dinosaurs were just one of several strange things. Exploding fairies, being stuck informal clothing, seeing ghosts, seeing peoples thoughts appear over the heads, the list of oddities went on and on. But he did have to agree that it was enough speaking about it for the time being.

Strangely enough, it was actually Japan who accidentally let slip that there was another war after the first one so he did know some things about future events. And that somehow nobody really destroyed the world seeing that they were still around (though sometimes he still wonders how it was possible everyone was able to manage not to kill each other and destroy the world). How that was managed was probably best left for later, though. Anyway he knew the basics. He didn't know the finer details, though.

"I have some aspirin around if you need it." It was a helpful offer but it'd have to wait until he was finished. Speaking of which, a fresh, warm stack of pancakes was being brought over. That could only mean that the bacon was next. It just needed a little longer for some extra crispness. "Later I can show you around some, if you'd like. Though I have to warn you the stops on my tour include the park and the library." Two of the most important places if anyone asked him.

Gilbert perked up in a very dog-like manner when Canada set down the pancakes. Hell, if he had a tail it would be wagging at a million miles per hour. He loved Canada's pancakes. They always made him feel fuzzy and warm, even if he was in a bad mood (and consequently, he always went around to Canada's place whenever he was in a bad mood for the sole purpose of cheering up - and catching up with the quiet nation). He dug in eagerly.

"That's fine," he said. "I like parks." And he liked books. Most people looked at him and assumed him to be too impatient or hot-blooded to sit still long enough to read a book - but he had an entire library of his memoirs of growing up for the past 822 years (which would probably make any historian cream themselves to get their hands on). If he could write all of them, he could read books and enjoy them too. "And it's good to know your way around and stuff."

"I have some helpful maps around here somewhere as well as a welcome brochure. I'll have to see if I can find it." Clearly he was the most organised member of the welcoming committee. At least he had them around still so they might come in handy. ...if he could find them. As he was putting the back down on thet able finally, he was also smiling quite happily. "There's a lake in the park. And it has ducks." It seemed to be some sort of important point for him to note it. In reality, though, it wasn't all too special. It was simply Canada sharing his enjoyment of that little fact. "There's also a greenhouse near the park as well and a grove of apple trees." It was nice to visit later in the year, especially when the apples were in season.

For a few moments there was this sort of pause as he thought about something, trying to decide whether or not he simply wanted to get over saying it or not. In the end he decided to since it was better than putting it off until later. "Y'know, you're really not so bad, really." It was meant as a compliment, actually, despite the slight awkwardness to it.

Gilbert smiled at the mention of ducks. Obviously, he had a pure love for all feathered beings, and many nations had stated that they were disturbed to see Prussia - an old war horse and admitted psychotic at times soldier - laughing delightedly while feeding some ducks or swans or pigeons. Gilbert didn't care. He loved birds. And he was envious of how they could simply fly away whenever they wanted. It'd be so cool, able to fly...

"Hm, sounds like they didn't hold anything back when making that park," Gilbert merely commented, finishing off the last bite of the pancakes. He had practically inhaled the entire tower within a few minutes. He had been really hungry after his confused, angry moment. He wiped at his mouth, and looked up when Canada spoke, his eyebrows rising in mild confusion.

"Hm? Not so bad? Why? Did you expect me to be bad or something?" Gilbert asked, trying to remember what his relationship with Canada was like back in 1917. Well, they had just finished the Great War, so...yeah, some tension would've existed then, huh...

"I was quite happy to see the ducks. They seem to like me, I think." Given that he'll spend hours there feeding them, they've probably come to figure out he at least isn't going to hurt them. Later, they could feed the ducks together and he could properly introduce them to Gilbert. They'd probably enjoy meeting someone new.

"To be totally fair, you were on the wrong side." From a very basic point of view, anyway, without going into the deeper aspects of the causes and all of the war. "Plus I don't think I've ever heard anyone say you were a good influence." Unless, of course, one wanted to learn strategy and good military skills. ...or how to freeload with the best of them. "On the other hand, England tends to dislike a lot of people so I really don't hear much praise about others from him." A smile accompanied a tiny little shrug. "It doesn't really matter though now, eh."

"Would you like some more pancakes?" The pan was still warm enough that it wouldn't take very long at all he figured.

Gilbert frowned a little, trapping his finger against the table as he took a swig of his glass of milk. "I'm a very good influence," he said, a hint of pride to his tone. "Have you seen Germany lately? I mothered the shit out of that uptight idiot. He's the perfect paragon of awesomeness - okay, so he doesn't know how to have fun without me forcing him too, but still. He's awesome." Gilbert nodded to himself, assured that he was a very good influence - just towards his little brother. Prussia had been nothing short of jealousy possessive over Ludwig's upbringing, and all but got into a physical fistfight with Austria over who would have him. Gilbert won, obviously.

"But I guess it doesn't matter any more," Gilbert conceded. "That was like...ages ago." And Germany lost those two wars, so Gilbert didn't like thinking on them. Honestly, Gilbert gave his little brother a successful empire and he did nothing but drive it into the ground repeatedly. Alright, so now Germany is a very efficient and prosperous country, even with the economical crises, but still, took him long enough to get there(and he still didn't have any war victories to his name).

"Nah, I'm fine, thanks. I'm totally stuffed," Gilbert pushed the plate away pointedly. "And sleepy. And still confused over everything, bleeeh..."

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