[Shockingly, he sits and listens. Not listening is always what lands him in trouble. England doesn't want to listen, his first instinct is to reprimand the boy--not that he won't--but simply folds his hands in his lap and stares at nothing in particular until America's had his iconic heartfelt spiel.]
... America, the Frog is an idiot. [Er, no, hold on--Well, yes France is a fucking imbecile but that's not how he wanted to start this--]
Uh-- Look. [Wrinkling his nose, peering at with a scowl; though the scowl isn't really at or for America at all. This is England's thinking face.]
The Frog is an idiot, but he's-- still alive. [Can't admit France is right, at least not in so many words. England's fingers curl into the fabric of his trousers tightly.] As am I. We're not immortal anymore America, and that means we've more limitations than we're used to. Can't heal as quickly, you certainly lack your... [uh] healthy strength.
[--and then he has to stop because he can't continue admitting all these weaknesses. Not that America would pick up on it, but it's bad enough England's saying them out loud in the first place, much less in front of the boy.]
The point is, we have limits and we need to know them. If we don't and we push too far, we'll do far more harm than good. You must understand that. [Certainly something he would never say. Oh, he wouldn't say any of this back then. He sighs.] Helping these so-called 'gods' means bringing color to this city--they want us to be industrious and cultured, if that helps you grasp it.
We can't push like we ought to as nations; our leaders and military forces aren't here. Dammit Alfred, damn you for having me say any of this! [biting the inside of his mouth.]
Calm yourself, lad. The best thing we can do for ourselves and our people... and the city of Asgard, is to continue on and live and help this city thrive. My empire wasn't built in a day--we'll help them bit by bit, one thing at a time.
[england's knuckles have gone white and he's chewing his lip quite hard.]
--France-- helps you. Later on. In over two hundred fifty years, neither of you go to war with each other.
[he tastes iron; his lip is bleeding and his hands are trembling.]
I'll not hear any arguments from you on this. You've got to be patient or you'll lose everything and burn for it.
no subject
... America, the Frog is an idiot. [Er, no, hold on--Well, yes France is a fucking imbecile but that's not how he wanted to start this--]
Uh-- Look. [Wrinkling his nose, peering at with a scowl; though the scowl isn't really at or for America at all.
This is England's thinking face.]The Frog is an idiot, but he's-- still alive. [Can't admit France is right, at least not in so many words. England's fingers curl into the fabric of his trousers tightly.] As am I. We're not immortal anymore America, and that means we've more limitations than we're used to. Can't heal as quickly, you certainly lack your... [uh] healthy strength.
[--and then he has to stop because he can't continue admitting all these weaknesses. Not that America would pick up on it, but it's bad enough England's saying them out loud in the first place, much less in front of the boy.]
The point is, we have limits and we need to know them. If we don't and we push too far, we'll do far more harm than good. You must understand that. [Certainly something he would never say. Oh, he wouldn't say any of this back then. He sighs.] Helping these so-called 'gods' means bringing color to this city--they want us to be industrious and cultured, if that helps you grasp it.
We can't push like we ought to as nations; our leaders and military forces aren't here. Dammit Alfred, damn you for having me say any of this! [biting the inside of his mouth.]
Calm yourself, lad. The best thing we can do for ourselves and our people... and the city of Asgard, is to continue on and live and help this city thrive. My empire wasn't built in a day--we'll help them bit by bit, one thing at a time.
[england's knuckles have gone white and he's chewing his lip quite hard.]
--France-- helps you. Later on. In over two hundred fifty years, neither of you go to war with each other.
[he tastes iron; his lip is bleeding and his hands are trembling.]
I'll not hear any arguments from you on this. You've got to be patient or you'll lose everything and burn for it.