The Butterfly Effect [Germany/America]

[Germany - Ludwig Beilschmidt]

Though it always seemed to Ludwig that he had so much to do that there was hardly a spare moment for him to waste, when he found a good opportunity to spend some time with Alfred he decided to take advantage of it. Partly because it had been some time since he'd last done so - their personalities were... very different, to the point that he sometimes struggled to have much desire to actually talk to him without the structure of a formal meeting. And it was easy enough to avoid unwanted interactions by explaining how busy he was. However, Alfred was a very important nation and so it was important to not put off talking to him indefinitely. It was good to periodically have a more casual conversation, just to reaffirm that they were friends and allies. Just because he found Alfred's manner to be grating at times doesn't mean that he wasn't willing to stand by his side after all. ...Depending on the situation, of course.

So Ludwig invited Alfred to have a few beers with him. An easy choice, because one thing that they definitely had in common was their enjoyment of that particular drink. They had other things in common as well, but most of those weren't so easy to translate into a pleasant outing - if they went to look at automobiles, for example, they'd probably end up in an argument about whose was better. At least with beer Alfred was usually willing to admit that Ludwig knew what he was doing.

And he picked the place they were to meet very carefully - it was definitely not his favorite place because he preferred somewhere he could drink in peace and quiet. But he'd figured that Alfred would enjoy a more lively environment. This sports bar where the air was full of lively conversation, but not so much that it would be difficult to hear, was hopefully a good compromise. Unfortunately, the sport currently playing on a majority of the televisions was tennis, so he wasn't particularly invested. He merely watched it because it was on while he waited for Alfred - he'd arrived five minutes early himself, as per usual.

[America - Alfred F. Jones]

Germany had been an absolute mess lately. By Germany he actually meant the entire European Union but that was basically the same thing. It wasn’t like Ludwig hadn’t been holding it the entire time since from the beginning. This whole divorce with Arthur was just making everything even more messy. He didn’t mind that Arthur was getting a divorce from him, he’d even openly showed supporting him. As far as he knew Germany didn’t seem to mind that Alfred had thrown in his cards with Arthur. It did seem like he might have been avoiding him lately though.

Alfred spent a lot more of his time with Germany’s brother Prussia. Prussia was way more fun than Ludwig, which was stupid because he was the older brother? It was weird, but Gil was always the fun person. He often went out for drinks with him and Mathias. Germany seemed to like to spend more time with boring people, which made sense because he was boring too. Alfred felt like he wanted to die during most meetings. It was usually more of the same, Germany was paranoid and overreacting about everything.

Alfred was much happier when he got the pin drop to meet Germany at a sports bar. That seemed very unlike him. He could see Sweden and Germany sitting at a table at some boring bar and no one gets into a fist fight or arrested by the end of the night. What kind of drinking night was that? To each their own, at least he was going to a place where he could watch a game.

Unlike Germany, Alfred walked in about ten minutes late. He was stuck in his closet for a little bit trying to figure out what to wear. If he was going to go out with Germany for a night he wanted to look great. Sometimes just standing next to Ludwig could make anyone feel self-conscious about their physical form. So if he was going to be there with him he was going to look good. He walked in dressed in a sharp suit, like he’d just got out of the most important business meeting. His tie was a little loose because it was after 5pm and that was just the classy thing to do at a bar anyway. He moved through the tables and was able to find Germany pretty quickly.

“Yo!” He greeted him and outstretched his hand for Germany to shake before he sat down. “We order yet? I’m parched. Thanks for inviting me out! I was actually kind of surprised.” He tapped his hands on the table and looked around for service.

[Germany - Ludwig Beilschmidt]

Knowing that the nation he was here to meet would arrive in his own due time, Ludwig took the opportunity while he was waiting to both try to mentally unwind a bit after the other events of his day and also carefully prepare his expectations for this evening. If he simply told himself that he would get absolutely nothing productive done during this outing, he'd find it much less irritating later when he would check the time and note that nothing had been accomplished and yet the evening was over.

Though finally his preparation could end because Alfred had arrived. He slightly raised an eyebrow to himself when he noticed what the other nation was wearing - a suit was rather formal for a couple of beers at a sports bar. Then again, perhaps he'd come directly from a meeting. Ludwig himself had done so, but had enough time to switch out his suit coat and tie for a leather jacket - which left him still a bit dressed up for the venue, perhaps, but that's about as dressed down as he gets. When Alfred got close, he stood to shake his hand. "Guten Abend," he said, his grip firm but friendly, sitting down as he added, "Thank you for joining me." Finally.

At the question, he shook his head. "I vasn't sure vhat you vanted, and I also figured that you vould like your food hot," he explained, "But ve already have menus." He slid one of the folded menus into Alfred's hands, though he didn't get one for himself - he had plenty of time to persue it already. And he'd already ordered a beer for himself, though it's only slightly drained - it's a nice craft beer and he was slowly nursing it while he was waiting. Picking it up again, he indicated the menu and commented, "I think you might like the Käsespätzle or the Schnitzel if you vant my recommendation." Neither of those were Ludwig's favorite, but käsespätzle is a cheesy noodle dish, while schnitzel is meat that has been breaded and then fried. Either of those things seemed like something that would be right up Alfred's alley.

Having hopefully gotten the American quickly settled in, he added, "And you're velcome - it has been avhile since ve had a chance to meet one-on-one, so I managed to make some time in my schedule. Hov have you been?"

[America - Alfred F. Jones]

Alfred gripped his hand when it came to his own and squeezed too. He may have tried to squeeze just a little bit harder than Germany. Power posturing was not uncommon among all of the nations, but Alfred liked to remind people every now and then that he was still on top. It wasn’t his intent to be rude and Germany would probably appreciate the competition anyway. If anyone was going to be down for that kind of posturing, it was Ludwig. The only problem being that he was pretty mild now a days.

“Of course friend!” He acknowledged excitedly and took his seat. Alfred took the menu when it was given to him and glanced it over. It didn’t really matter what he was looking at. He was just hungry and wanted something. “Yeah I don’t even know. You can just order for me. I trust your judgement here.” He tossed the menu to the side and leaned back with a grin. If there was one thing he knew he wanted, it was a beer. Germany was always great with beer and he would indulge while he was here. “I will want a beer though.” He cheerfully added and leaned back in his chair.

“I’ve been good! Been good. Never better actually. I’ve got a few hang up’s every now and then but nothing too major. Jose is kind of being an ass but what else is new. I know you’re having some issues too.” Alfred mused on out loud and propped his feet up on something under the table. “I think I’m gonna have to step in on the whole Brexit thing huh?” He asked casually as if he always has to get involved with things.

[Germany - Ludwig Beilschmidt]

When he felt his hand being intentionally squeezed harder, Ludwig's lips pursed just a hair. He may be very competitive, but he sees no reason why he would need to do so by comparing grip strength during a handshake. After all, a having a firmer grip didn't mean that Alfred could match him in much more important ways. Ludwig's people were healthier and lived longer than Alfred's - possibly due to their better access to healthcare. His people were also better educated in spite of the fact that he spent about the same amount of money for each of them as Alfred did. He also had a much more diverse political system, that provided him with a Boss with a stable temperament suitable for that position. And in spite of having fewer resources simply because Alfred had a ridiculous amount of land, he had taken in many more refugees. This while having an economy that was rather similar to Alfred's - except, of course, he enjoyed a lower rate of inflation and exported more than he imported. Also, Alfred couldn't compete with the quality of his infrastructure, like the roads that were traveled on by better cars, driven by better drivers. Also he could absolutely destroy Alfred in a game of football (the only kind that matters) any time he wished. So getting into a grip strength contest was completely pointless - especially since Alfred didn't know his own strength and threw it around as if he couldn't hurt anyone. And thus his grip was simply hard enough to remind the other nation that he was no weakling - that was sufficient.

When the details of the order were left up to him, Ludwig was quick to snag the attention of the nearest waiter, and ordered for both of them. He opted to get the schnitzel for Alfred to go with his beer, knowing that the American would probably love it. That was another thing he was better at - food, even fried food. Also, beer.

Once that detail was sorted out and the waiter sent on his way, he attempted to give Alfred his full attention. When the American went from complaining about his neighbor to talking about Ludwig's own business, he simply stated, "If I'm having any major issues, this is news to me. My troubles have been minor. Even vith Brexit - it has honestly gone very smoothly on my end." Though he couldn't exactly say the same thing for Arthur, but that's not his business so he doesn't volunteer a comment about that.

The waiter returned with Alfred's drink and a refill for Ludwig after only a few moments of being away. When he ordered for Alfred, he didn't ask for the finest that they had - he instead selected the finest that he thought that the American would be able to actually appreciate. He, of course, was drinking the finest.

[America - Alfred F. Jones]

Alfred half grinned and leaned way too far back in his chair. The front legs came off the floor and the chair balanced on the back while he had ahold of the table. It didn’t look like his hand was so firmly on it that he couldn’t tip over, but that seemed to be apart of the fun of doing it. He would let go of the table periodically to try and see if he could balance very long without it. The legs would teeter for a minute, but he’d keep leaning forward to grab the table again.


Germany could SAY he was doing fine, but everyone knew that it wasn’t exactly the truth. It was all over the media after all and the media only sometimes stretches the truth. There’s some truth in everything right? Anyway, if people were saying that Germany needed help from Alfred it was probably absolutely 100% true. If he was going to help though he would probably end up helping Arthur the most out of the two. He could almost promise that it was going to be mutually beneficial for everyone though. They just needed to be able to work out a deal where they didn’t fight about it. He could already feel his collar getting tighter and his pocket getting emptier. Either way, this was going to be an expensive affair if he got involved. Why couldn’t Europe get their act together ever?


“Come on dude, we don’t have to beat around the bush here. I’m just saying it’s a mess and I’m expecting to be called in at some point.” He waved it off as if it was going to happen anyway. He tilted back just a little bit too far and jerked to catch himself before anything happened. The legs hit the floor with a slam, but it didn’t take him long to be back on two again balancing. When his drink was set down he took a moment to let the legs rest again so he could take a big drink. It didn’t really matter to him which brand Germany had ordered for him, it was all good! After a big gulp he was back onto balancing on the legs. “That’s neither here nor there though. What’s up? How have you been?” He asked while clearly distracted by his own energy.

[Germany - Ludwig Beilschmidt]

Ludwig did his best to ignore the way Alfred was toying with the chair. Such antics, if continued for too long, were doomed to go poorly at some point. But he knew that with Alfred he needed to pick his battles, and perhaps experiencing the actual consequences of his actions might finally teach the other nation a lesson. It hadn't worked before, but there's always a first time. ...Still, in spite of his resolution to leave it alone, he found the chair to be extremely distracting. Not so distracting that he would give into the temptation to actually say something about it, but distracting enough for him to chide himself for his lack of focus.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Alfred's insistence that he needed help was also irritating - so much so that it helped distract him from thinking about the chair. "The only mess I knov of is on your brother's end, but I am sure that he vould appreciate the help," he commented calmly and patiently, simply explaining to the American the error. Which is a strategy that he'd found some success with in the past - sometimes if you literally explained a concept a couple dozen times he'd actually realize the truth and respond accordingly. Sometimes.

Unfortunately, once he said that it proved to be only a momentary distraction from the chair, which was especially difficult to ignore when Alfred nearly fell over. Ludwig found himself feeling disappointed about that, because perhaps if the American actually did fall then he'd stop. That would be nice. Or maybe he would when he had the alcohol to entertain him instead? ...Unfortunately not. The German let out a sigh, but unless anyone could hear his internal thoughts it would probably be difficult to pinpoint why.

When Alfred then asked him how he's been, he paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. And just as he was about to speak Alfred would feel like he had leaned a bit too far back again and was about to fall. However, any effort to correct that feeling would prove fruitless as he inevitably fell back, not for the relatively short distance to the floor, but it would seem that he continued past it as he fell down into a time slip. The words that Ludwig had began to speak sounded hollow and undecipherable as everything went cold and black.


Yet only for a moment before everything suddenly became bright again. Alfred would find himself in a field - probably a farmer's field that had not been cultivated this year. And all around him were sounds that he probably found quite familiar because they were no different from those he'd heard during his fight for independence from his brother - musket-fire and the shouting of men engaged in battle, with the occasional scream of one getting hit. Though the shouting was at the same time different because the voices were speaking in German.

Alfred was known to mock the tactics used by his brother during that fight long ago - the bright uniforms, the straight lines of troops just standing out in the open where they were easy pickings for anyone actually concealing themselves. But instead of the partially tamed wilderness of America's youth, the terrain here is where those tactics were built and where they make sense. The slight plateau they are on is almost entirely open fields, with only the occasional small hill to vary the terrain. The only trees were tiny patches at the edge of what would be a farm if there weren't a war going on.

Here bright uniforms were good because they made it easy to see which side of the war a soldier was on, and with absolutely no cover available at all, the only cover available was your fellow soldiers - assuming that you were not on the very front line. Alfred would, fortunately, find himself in a relatively safe position behind a line of soldiers. There were wearing very dark blue coats with red trim, crossed at the shoulders by the white straps holding on their gear, and gray pants. Though as he was getting his bearings he would probably also notice that they all looked exhausted and frightened - stressed from nearly an entire day of battle that wasn't going well for them. If he couldn't see it on their faces, he'd surely notice the number of bodies scattered around - whether there are more of those than there are soldiers still on their feet would be difficult to say.

Still, he would also hear about the din of the others a voice attempting to maintain their morale. The youthful voice of a young man in his early teens. To see someone his age on a battlefield like this was not unusual during this time period, but for him to speak with the apparent authority of someone who is in charge certainly would be. "They have not defeated us yet! Rüchel is nearly here and ve only need to hold out until then!" The voice would be both familiar and unfamiliar - Alfred never did meet Ludwig at this age because he was only a region under the authority of his brother with no real importance other than that. And because of his age he did not yet speak with the deep tones he would have later. Still, he spoke with that familiar cadence and determination that the German always used when telling others what to do.

And if Alfred sought the source of the voice he would see Ludwig, but a far different one than the one the American had been speaking to moments before. The young man appeared to be somewhere around the age of fourteen, firmly in that awkward stage somewhere between being a boy and a man. Not only did he not have his future voice, he also didn't have the stature or his characteristic musculature. However, he was still certainly recognizable as his face is nearly the same - his firm jaw had started to emerge from what a more rounded face of a child.

The words of the young German seemed to be helping, but what was probably helping more was that this particular group of soldiers were having a momentary reprieve - the line of opposing soldiers, wearing a uniform that was slightly lighter blue with white pants, were far enough away that only a very lucky shot from a musket would actually hit anyone. Though it could be heard happening here and there, a scream or two following each volley from the unlucky soldier in the path of a bullet that actually managed to fly straight. The volleys were being returned, but probably with only about the same level of success. This counted as somewhat of a break in the action - soon the shifting armies were most likely to come closer to each other again and the real fighting would commence once again.