Hey guys! I have noticed that there are a few fans of Hetalia out here, yet not many threads!

I simply cannot have this...


Setting:
It's a Neighbourhood, in suburbia , a forest in behind the houses, and a few path-ways back there. It is basically a cul-de-sac, in a moderate environment.

Rules:
1) the normal, obvious rules apply here. Be polite, have fun, no mary-sues/gary-stus etc.

2) please, no chat speak. Those who use chat speak will not be replied to, and asked to leave.

3) No OC's, please. If you REALLY must have an OC, though, please PM me about it. All OC's must be countries, any side OC's are allowed. Eg.) Mathew has a friend named Bob who comes and hangs out sometimes! :D they play hockey!

4) Human Names used. This is an AU, and people named after countries aren't very common.

5) Gender benders allowed, but please alter the name to sound feminine and declare the gender before RPing.

6) Lastly, no one-liners. I hate those.

Thank you very much! No need to PM me to request a character, just jump right on in! I shall play Canada, AKA Mathew Williams. He is indeed Gay, and he lives in the red house next to the path into the woods.

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Mathew Williams looked out his window about the path to the woods. After looking up and down the path, and finding no one, he decided now was the best time to take is overly friendly bear of a dog, Kumakama, for a walk. He didn't blame people for not being out, it WAS only 7 in the morning. He threw on his red sweater, grabbed the leash, and walked out of his room, calling for the white beast.

"Hey! Kumakomo, Where are you? Kuma?" He asked, peering into the various rooms as he walked past. Suddenly, he was knocked over by the over-friendly dog, covered in his happy drool, "hey... get off." Mathew said as he looked up at the dog, who tilted his head at him before taking off down the hall and stairs toward the front door.

Mathew walked out into the crisp air, and listened as his feet made a swishing sound over the long, dew-covered grass. Kumajoru kept straining against the leash, eager to get a move on, where as Mathew wanted to take his time.

(( Gee, I wonder who I'm gonna be? ;D ))

Gilbert groaned at the light that beamed down on him. Everything was so painful. His chest, his arms, his gut, his head. Oh, his poor head. It throbbed relentlessly, as if his brain wanted to burst out from the skull that kept it contained. God, what did he do last night? His hand rubbed at his eyes, trying to massage the burning out of them. All he could remember was going over to Francis' place and having a couple beers. Then Antonio showed up with a box of... whatever the hell that stuff was.

"Fuck," he swore. He needed Advil and fast. "Ludwig, get me some water," he called in his native tongue for his brother. A moment passed where only silence spoke to him. Gilbert frowned. "Hey, West! Didn't you hear me? Water, I said. I. Want. Water."

Nothing.

Gilbert scowled. Where the hell was his brother? He took a deep breath and pushed himself upright, swinging his legs over the edge of his... bench? "Vat de fu--?" His hands were touching something hard. Something... wooden. Suddenly his common sense came back to him and Gilbert forced open his eyes. He wasn't in his bedroom. He wasn't even in his house. Forget Ludwig, where the fuck was Gilbert?

Trees surrounded him. A path of gravel and dirt was at his feet. He heard the morning songs of the birds and he breathed in the crisp, fresh air. The German stood, albeit a little unsteady, and did a 360 spin. He was in a forest. A forest in the middle of no where. "Oh God."

He was gonna kill Francis.

Mathew walked down the path, when he heard a voice cut through the morning air.

"Ich. Will. Wasser." Mathew frowned. Was that... Danish? German? ... Yup. definitely German.

"Uh-um... Are, are you okay?" He softly called out, heeling Kumakamo. He looked at the man turning, a horrified expression on his face.

Not sure if he heard him, Mathew tried again.

"Are you okay? ...sir?" He asked, getting a better look at him. He looked familiar... Did he live on the same street?

Gilbert spun around. There standing in the middle of a path was a man about his age with gold hair and large indigo eyes masked behind a pair of glasses. The man blinked at him, slightly weary, and repeated his question.

Was he okay? No, he most definitely was not okay. Gilbert narrowed his eyes at the man before him. There was a giant blob of a dog sitting at his feet panting. Beady black eyes stared up at Gilbert, a head slightly tilted. The animal reminded the German of his brother's three dogs. Those bloody things that ran around the house like a trio of crazy kids whenever Ludwig was out, but when the blonde came home they were perfect. Gilbert always tried explaining to his sibling how evil the animals were but Ludwig never listened.

Gilbert glared at the mutt, almost wanting to reach out and throttle it's furry neck. Damn creature. He hated dogs.

"Do yohu have any Ahdveel?" He asked instead, trying to derail his thoughts from killing the random domestic pet in front of him.

Advil? He thought that he SHOULD have advil... he pat his pockets, and felt around.

"Sorry... I don't have any on me. But, my house is just down the path, and really close. I could get you some if you want, eh?"

Mathew gestured down the path behind him, and reeled in his dog. He wasn't sure how long it would take until his dog would jump the person standing in front of him, glowering down at Kumakoko.

No, no, no! If Gilbert wanted to walk somewhere it was his own house not this weird-o's! Then it dawned on him. He had no idea where he was and this guy was offering to take him to his place for drugs. Gilbert's eyes narrowed. What if this was a trap? A scheme to lure him in like all those American movies showed. It's always the nice pretty guy who ends up being the murderer in the end.

Gilbert growled, "Noh! I'm noht schtupid!" He pointed at the bewildered blonde standing across from him. "Youh ahnd yohr dog cahn goh pick anoder veectim!"

Wait. What if he said too much? He swore the white animal's glare glittered with maliciousness. No! Now they were onto him! They knew he was on their tail!

Doing the only thing he knew was smart, Gilbert leaped at the blonde man and tackled him to the ground. They rolled a few times until Gilbert forced himself on top, straddling the other man's hips. If he was going to be killed he'd do it fighting.

"Youh ahnd yohr dog cahn goh pick anoder veectim!"

Mathew narrowed his eyes at the thought... This guy thought he was a rapist?

Mathew was just about to say something to To the silver haired man when all of a sudden, he was tackled to the ground. The wind was knocked out of him, and the next thing he knew, the attractive young man was straddling him. His eyes widened and he turned a shade of red as he panted out a breathy "No." when he realized he had dropped the leash in surprise. He flipped his head to the 80 pound dog that was barreling his way towards the man pinning Mathew down.

"Kuma, no!" Mathew shouted, unlike his normal quiet self. But it was too late, and Kumajambo Crashed into the hung-over man, snarling.


No one hurt his master! ... whoever he was...

Kuma? Gilbert though, glaring down at the blonde beneath him. What the hell was a Ku--

Holy Mother of God.

Eighty pounds of fur and fat all but mowed him down from his side. Gilbert let out an undignified squawk as his body was shoved from sitting to face first into the dirt. The dog growled in his ear, threatening him with it's rumbling language, "You mess with my master I kick your ass, Kraut."

... Could a dog even figure out German from English?

Gilbert panted, trying to catch his breath. The animal was heavy. Very heavy. Not even Ludwig's mutts weighed as much as this lump of whiteness. He had lost the battle. They were going to kill him. Dammit, he should have taken out the dog first before the master!

"Kuma, no!" Mathew said, as he scrambled to his feet. He ran over to the dog, and grabbed the leash, pulling as hard as possible. The dog slightly budged, but only a little.

"Come on! if you get off, a BIG treat is in it for you!" Mathew called, and pulled again. That time, Kumamoji lept off Mathew's attacker and fell into line by Mathew's side. Mathew turned to the dog and put out his hand, motioning to stop. "stay." He commanded.

"are you okay?", he asked, as he crouched next to the groaning man. He tucked a long of hair behind his ear, and touched the silverette's shoulder.

Gilbert's head was spinning. That dog knocking it around made it hurt even worse. He grabbed it. This wasn't just a hangover. No, this was more than that. More and... it seemed wrong. Like some horrible battle was going on inside his body.

"Noh..." He whispered the response to the blonde when he was asked. "Noh, it hurts... It hurts..." He wanted his brother. He wanted Advil. He wanted his bed. He wanted to be back in Germany. He wanted to be home. He wanted his mother. He wanted his father...

Want, want, want.

A wave of nausea crashed over him and Gilbert rolled over just in time to heave onto the dirt ground of the forest. He groaned as his stomach emptied it's contents not just once, but twice. He felt hot. So damn hot...

Mathew's head was spinning. The man was throwing up, and clutching his head like was about the fall off. What did he learn in first-aid for this? Wasn't he protected by the good-samaritans act or something? He needed to do something and do it now.

"I'll be back." He said to The sick man, then turned to Kumamori. "Stay, be nice."

Mathew took off down the path, ((I swear to god, this is the 20th time I've mentioned the path)) and ran to his nearby home.

As he entered, he didn't even bother to take off his shoes. He grabbed advil, pepto bismal, a thermometer, a blanket that was draped over the couch, and a package of pre-made pancakes. In case he was hungry. He was almost out the door, when he remembered water. He grabbed a water bottle, and filled it, bouncing on the spot, as if it would make the water run any faster.

With his arms full, Mathew ran back down the path, to where he left him, and saw Kuma snuffling the passed out boy.

"...b....back..." He panted, and walked over to him. He gave to blanket to him, and the water, and medicine, and sat, and waited.

(( Lol I know but Gilbert's retarded. He doesn't remember there ever being a path since he and Ludwig just moved into the cul-de-sac. ))

It felt like forever and a day later when Gilbert re-opened his eyes. He felt comfortable and... warm. A ball of heat lay curled beside him, and he could sense someone or something off to his left. Squinting in the sun that shone through the tree tops, Gilbert saw the blonde man beside him making...

"Vat eez dat?" He asked. More like croaked. The man was nibbling on some kind of tan patty. Glancing right, Gilbert saw the lump that had made it's comfortable way beside him was none other than that bloody mutt. He scoffed. Stupid dog.

"It's just a pre-made pancake. Can you eat?" He asked, handing him water and advil.

"Start with those." He said, returning to his pancake. It could use maple syrup. He scratched Kumanono behind his ears, and watched him for a moment.

Gilbert timidly took the oddly flat substance and narrowed his eyes. His fingers touched the... food? Could it really be called that? The blonde was eating it. But what if it was poisoned? He glared at the offending item. Under the blanket--wow, really, a blanket? No wonder he was warm--his stomach growled loudly.

Taking a tentive nibble from the weird "pancake", Gilbert chewed it slowly. After a moment of silence his ruby eyes lit with enjoyment. He tried hiding it from the blonde by snorting and turning to stare at the dog, head tilted away. "Eet's ohkay," he muttered, all but stuffing the meal in his mouth.

"I make better, but these are the pre-made stuff. They claim to be better than home-made, but that's just a bunch of horse-shit, eh." Mathew said, as he watched, his hand on the pepto bismal, just in case. He looked at Kumajuju, who stared back, his head tilted a bit to the side, before snuffling back into the silverette.

"He seems to like you now." Mathew told him, before looking back up at the other. "Whats your name, by the way? I am Mathew. Mathew Williams."

Gilbert snorted. Like he was stupid enough to give his real name. He waited a moment to swallow the pancake-thing and took a gulp of water. "Hans," he said after he finished. "Hans Preußen."

He paused to rub his temples, trying to coax the headache away. Finally he glared at the dog beside him. It simply peered up innocently. Damn creatures. "So, vy ahre you here?" He asked this... Matthew character. "Vant to fatten me up befohre you keell me?"

... Why was he here?

"No... I think I just wanted to make sure you are okay? I didn't want to leave you out in the middle of these woods... It just wouldn't be right, eh?" He told him. "...but, I guess, you are right. I have over-stayed my welcome. I'll go now." He smiled at him. "It was nice meeting you, Hans. Even if you do think I am a murderer. Keep the blanket and medicine."

Mathew stood up, brushing the dirt off, and grabbed the leash.
"Come on, Kumamomo."
The dog looked at "Hans" before they left, almost reluctantly.

Oh damn. Plan back-fired.

"Vait! Vait! Vait!" Gilbert tried to stand and run after the two but his legs tangled with the blanket. He reached out, as if knowing what was about to happen, and watched as time slowed. His hand grew lower and lower and lower until he made the impression he was going to grab Matthew's ass and not his shoulder.

Not that there was anything bad with that. The man had a fine lookin' rump.

Dirt collided with skin. Gilbert growled in frustration, only to receive the taste of soil in his mouth. He spat, trying to free his tongue of the wretched substance and only made it work. Gee, Gil, great job on being a smooth talker.

He rolled onto his back to stare at Matthew looking completely and utterly hopeless. "So... you mayke better pancakes... Mind sharing?"

Mathew turned around at the sound of stumbling. He made it in time to watch the man eat it. He walked over to where he laid, and brushed some dirt off of him.

"So... you mayke better pancakes... Mind sharing?"

Mathew smiled, glad the man trusted him enough to take up his offer for pancakes.
"My place is just that way." he said, motioning to the end of the path. He offered his hand to help "Hans" up.

Gilbert took the offered hand and after packing up the blanket and medicine, trekked down the long path to the outside of the forest. He blinked at the sight. It looked familiar. Really familiar. However, everything in North America looked the same. People liked to say exactly that about Germany but they were wrong. Everything was distinctive there. Here the houses were multi-coloured and it blinded you.

Gilbert followed Matthew to the house beside the path. He gazed out across the cul-de-sac to the brown house with white trimming. It was... very... familiar... It almost looked like...

He squinted his red eyes. Nah, it couldn't be! Why would it be there? Shrugging the whole coincidence off, he followed like a little duckling after Matthew into the house.

"Look familiar to you?" Mathew asked, as they entered the house, leading him to the small, but homey kitchen.

Mathew's house was old, and the floor creaked as they walked across the carpet. Some wallpaper was peeling, and it smelled skunk-ish, from the occasional pot-smoking. He put the medicine back in the cabinet, and the blanket on the couch, before turning back to "Hans" waiting for his reaction.

"Ja, a bit..." Gilbert glanced around. Old, smelly, not very clean... This Matthew character was definitely a murderer. Or at least a rapist. Oh god, what if he tried something on Gilbert? At least he'd die full of pancakes. Unless he wasn't getting them at all. What if this was a big lie and he was lured in like an idiot?

He took a seat in the living room, making himself comfy. Might as well relax. His life was over. If only he had said goodbye to Ludwig one last time. If only he had told Francis and Antonio just what he really thought of them. If only if only if only... "So vere ahre does pahncakes?"

Mathew laughed a bit.

" I have to make them first, silly." Mathew walked to the cupboards of flour and baking powder. He grabbed the milk, oil and eggs, and set to work, mixing the ingredients together.

"So how did you end up in the woods, anyways? Do you live around here?" Mathew asked him as he buttered the pan and poured the batter in.

Gilbert shrugged his shoulders. Matthew's dog, the fluff ball Kumasomethingorother, jumped on the couch and almost crushed the albino's legs. Gilbert cried out in pain and glared at the animal, trying to dislodge it. Nothing. Only a wriggle of the furry fat.

"I dohn't know," Gilbert said to Matthew who was working on the pancakes. "I vas vit my friends lahst night. I had a few drinks ahnd... oder dings... ahnd den I voke up in dat place." He scowled. "Francis vill pay. I beht eet vas his idea to puht me dere..."

...
...
...
What?

Did he say... Francis?

"U-um... Do you mean, Francis Bonnefoy?" Mathew timidly asked, a light blush shading over his cheeks. He had a few... less than desirable encounters with him while intoxicated. He flipped the pancakes over, and looked down at his shoes.