Children had a natural want when it came to toys. Anything and everything they could reach would become such object, and for this child too, it was no different. And though the status of a nation should prove otherwise, Viku undeniably also had such urge that was no different from citizens. When he wasn't clinging with all his might onto his elder brother, or for some magical reason asleep for longer than the minimal intervals at night, he was looking for ways to have fun. Whether it be learning how to skip or drawing on scraps of paper that he would find scattered onto the floor, that most likely were important files not that the kid knew, he would find ways to create toys for himself to play with and keep himself entertained. Even for the the boring meetings his brother brought him along with both before and in current times, he brought one or another toy along with him to keep himself busy.
Unfortunately, this wasn't the case for today. He was being led to Ludwig's office by his brother holding onto his hand, and was told he was not to bring any toys along with him. It was like that one day when he forgot to bring a colorful object to play with; when he was at the strange boring meeting that included only Ludwig, his brother, himself, and a few others that were in the German Empire. He didn't really pay attention himself so couldn't remember what the topics discussed were, but he did remember one thing. That was the miniature glass figurine that he found in the room, lined up with several others made with different materials. The glass one in particular gabbed his attention as it was see-through; he could see right through it and it, in turn, was the prettiest. However, it wasn't necessarily the figurine itself that he wanted. Oh no, he only wanted the bottom bit; it was a small ball with the symbol all too familiar in the child's eyes now, just big enough to fit in his hands.
The boy, for the better or worse, was a very determined one. Once he found something he wanted or liked, it would take a lot for him to give up from getting it in his possession. So when a bored child was met with a pretty potential plaything... And his brother didn't seem to notice or, did but didn't care enough to stop him, the tiny hands grasped at the glass statue. Pulling it off from the surface much taller than himself, the boy stared at it for a moment, scowling. The bird was in the way... He only wanted the ball, not the strange animal. And so, without second thought, slammed it hard onto the floor. The loud clang was heard throughout the room, and glass pieces shattered cross the floor, but Viku was satisfied. The glass ball in his hand was safe.
At that day, nothing serious happened but a little panicked and rushed talk from his brother about being careful with property that wasn't his. Though others could've seen it as scolding, Viku knew better. He noticed the glint of amusement in those crimson eyes, which in turn didn't help in any sense making the boy feel responsible for his own actions. He rushed back out a quick muttered apology, but managed to keep the ball with himself. A trophy of the day, without a doubt.
So Viku had no idea why his brother told him again that he wasn't allowed to bring toys to today's meeting, either. Was there another something he could break? His own little legs doing best to keep up with the Romanian's long strides, he kept quiet as he was led to the office door and looked up curiously. Was this the room the meeting was going to take place...? With who?
Last Edit: Jan 28, 2017 21:01:29 GMT -7 by Moldova
Ludwig had said to be at his office by no later than 11:00 AM. It was now well past 11:30 AM, and as he led his little brother along, Fane couldn’t feel bothered to come up with some plausible excuse. He could have come up with various reasonings for his poor timing, he could have drolled on with lists of distractions and setbacks that all would have sounded entirely plausible. But, he didn't care enough to try. Ludwig hardly made it a secret he disliked the Romanian nation -though perhaps ‘dislike’ wasn't a strong enough word, Fane couldn't say- and he knew that it wasn't as if arriving on time or having a valid excuse for lateness would suddenly change any of that.
What he much preferred spending mental energy on was wondering just why he and his brother were being called upon. It wasn't as if they had done anything too egregious that he could think of. Yes, the outfit stunt at the party had made its statement, but hadn't it been handled by Gilbert? He thought it certainly was, if his lack of freedom for the rest of the party was anything to go by. As for the figurine incident the other day... well, children broke things all the time, and Fane had told Viku to be more careful in the future. The fact his amusement shown through just a bit too much, and his voice sounded far less scolding than it could have, those were facts that didn’t matter to him.
Perhaps this was a different matter, then. Did the German have some trade agreement or pressing business that should involve the Romanian? If he had to guess, it would have something to do with his oil in Ploiești or what alliances and agreements Fane had with nations outside of the Reich. If that were the case, he trusted Ludwig to not be the type to comment on how he got those agreements.
But, there was no point in continued speculation once Fane and Viku reached the office door. Before entering, he paused. He supposed knocking first would be the proper thing to do, since the German now controlled him. Even if he hadn’t become a territory, knocking before entering would have just been a matter of manners and respect. So Fane chose to instead open the door and walk in unannounced.
“Ah Ludwig,” His smile seemed to come naturally, but there hardly seemed to be anything genuine about it. “You wanted to see us, puiule?”
Anyone who knows Germany very well at all would know that when he says that someone should come 'no later than 11:00 AM', they'd better make it a point to be there at 10:55 AM if not sooner - at least if they serve him and therefore don't have the luxury of his tolerance. By the time Romania finally walks in his door, Germany has ceased waiting for him and instead put him on his to-do list. The only fortunate thing for Romania is that he showed up at all, as a no-show would have been dealt with very severely indeed.
Still, Romania is quite late, and because of this Germany is now past that window of time when he'd be prepared to immediately deal with him. That he doesn't knock only exacerbates that problem. So when his door opens he looks up from his paperwork with a somewhat blank expression on his face. "Sit!" he says rather sharply, gesturing at the pair of visitor chairs in front of his desk. Waiting until both of them do so, he turns back to his paperwork for a few moments, unwilling to set it aside until after he talks to them. Which is only fair in his eyes - they kept him waiting, so he's merely returning the favor and for far less time than he'd had to wait himself.
Once he's satisfied with every particular of the paperwork he was working on - which has nothing to do with either of them - he carefully gathers the papers together into a neat pile, puts them into a folder, and then puts the folder inside of the drawers of his rather large desk. It's a very large, mahogany thing covered in carvings with Nazi iconography that is supposed to make the person sitting at it appear that much more impressive and imposing - quite successfully, most of the time.
When he closes the door he turns his attention upon those who have just entered his office, but even more especially upon Romania. "You're late," he states first, as that is an issue he would like to address and if he doesn't bring that up first it's likely to be forgotten. But it's a rather important point to him - perhaps much more than anyone might expect. He's a master of efficiency, and a part of that is keeping tight control over his schedule. Does Romania even appreciate how much it will need to be adjusted to make up for such lateness? It's doubtful, and Germany doesn't even think it's worth the effort trying to impress it upon him. What is far easier is making Romania care about his own lateness.
As he was led down the large building's corridors, Viku made sure to keep a tight hold back on Fane's hand as his brother did of his own. It would've been faster of course if the Romanian nation decided to just lift the toddler off his feet and carried him along the way, but that was not something little Bessarabia would've been happy to oblige to anytime soon. Despite one step of his brother equating to at least two or three of his own, the child enjoyed the independence, albeit it be limited to only being able to simply walk on his own, when in public places as such. Sure if he grew tired or nervous, there was no doubt in his mind that his big brother would have no issues in picking him up and giving him a ride, but at the moment the toddler was content.
By the time they finally reached the door and Fane paused momentarily seemingly in thought, the young territory's eyes were lifted and locked to his brother's pale face. His brother seemed to have an odd need to have to cover the black and blue marks on his face, and it only resulted in his face looking extra white. And today was no exception, of course. It seemed as if Fane had become a vampire, powdered up with all the cosmetic goods that could mask injuries and make him look... Well, extra pale, in this case. Unnatural perhaps, at this point. It was all silly to Viku, who struggled to understand the want to hide weaknesses towards other. But then again, he also was the same child who could go in public with a band-aid over his nose and still be publically acceptable. It was hard to compare such differences when they were present factors.
The door finally was opened without a single knock, and Viku turned his attention to the sight that opened up beyond him. The office room was neat, as anyone would expect out of Ludwig's workplace, and that alone was quite unsettling for the child. A frown clearly showed on his face at the sharp order given to the both of them, and only once they both sat on the chair in front of the desk did Viku finally sigh in boredom. Ludwig seemed to just ignore the two of them, and the only noises being made were scribbles and shuffling from the blond. As a child already who held difficulty controlling impulse, Viku was fidgeting on the seat, his legs swinging off the edge. It was when he almost lost control and was about to just climb down and start exploring every corner of the room there were in that Ludwig finally shifted his attention to him and his brother, making him blink curiously and tilt his head in question, ignoring the statement of being late.
Fane’s eyes met Ludwig’s, looking at him passively, as if they were still equal in some way. They were far from it, he knew that, but maybe it was just what was left of his pesky pride that kept him from feeling concerned with trying to fall in line with how he was now expected to act. Others could become accommodating and try to look like compliant dogs for their new master, and he’d never blame them. It was only logical to want to stay out of the way of scrutinous eyes; in his own ways, he was now someone’s loyal dog as well. But, that someone was not Ludwig. Only one brother could keep the Romanian loyal.
He almost answered Ludwig’s statement, but his little brother was quicker to speak. “Is this where chu haf fun time, Mister Ludwig?” The innocent, earnest question brought a smile to his face, and he couldn’t help it if he had to cover his mouth to stifle a small laugh. This was probably one of Fane’s favorite things about becoming an elder brother, how his little Viku asked the cutest questions, how he viewed the world around him despite how bleak things now were. He really did hope Viku didn’t fully understand just how grim things were nowadays, and that he never would. It’d be sad to see what innocence and childish wonder he had ruined.
“Nuuu,” He said in a light tone, hugging Viku close to him. “This is his office. You know, like the one I have at home. This is a place of boring, boring work!” A gentle tap on the nose was the last gesture of affection he gave before turning his attention back on the man on the other side of the desk. The warmth in his smile was quick to fade into neutrality, but he at least had the sense to not give the German the kind of dirty look he wished he could.
“And da, I am late.” Fane settled comfortably in the chair, speaking as casually as if he were talking to a friend. “As much as I’d love to tell you some kind of fascinating and halfway believable explanation for why I am, we both know you’d rather have truth instead of a fantastic excuse. So here’s your truth: life happens, especially these days, it feels. Now then, I know you’re someone fond of punctuality - you always were, even as a cute little kid - so I imagine you must have some kind of scolding for me worked up in that mind of yours. If you do, then by all means, say what you like. But, I can’t help but worry that if you did, it would cut into more of your precious time, puiule.”
When Romania's eyes turn toward him, Germany very easily meeting his gaze. His expression is steady but wholly unmoved by the other's passive attitude. The traitorous territory can look at him as casually as he wants - they are not equals and Germany knows this on a very deep and fundamental level. And he doesn't need to respond with posturing and fury - it's completely unnecessary. Romania is his to do exactly what he wants with, whether the man is willing to acknowledge it or not. The only question is how much pain the territory is going to put himself through before he recognizes his true place in the world.
But that moment is broken by the words of a small child. Germany glances at the boy and debates for a moment on a response, but when Romania gives an answer Germany decides that the answer is sufficient and simply turns his full attention back to the elder brother. Who is treated to a second helping of that unmoved expression as he dismisses his own lateness as inconsequential and the fact of it meaningless. There's a long moment before Germany responds, which should be taken as a warning (though it probably won't). "'Life happens' is a good reason for being on time instead of early to an appointment such as this, but your attitude is not surprising coming from someone vho prioritizes as poorly as you. And your vords of concern for my 'precious time' are clearly empty vhen spoken immediately after you have vasted so much of it," he states first, his voice nearly as empty of feeling as his face, though what emotion can be read from it is a certain tiredness - as if he's already weary of this conversation even though it's only just beginning.
"That attitude alone is concerning, but even more so given that fact that you have been entrusted vith the care of one of the Reich's youngest territories," he adds. But, having reminded himself of the small child, he glances to the side as he slides open one of the drawers in his desk a little, retrieving and item and setting it on the desk in front of boy, clearly intending for him to take it. It's a piece of peach flavored Bavarian hard candy, wrapped in a colorful (and very crackly) piece of paper - a reward because Germany noticed that the small child is having difficulty with this meeting already, and hopefully a bribe and distraction to help him continue to behave himself. It should hopefully work for quite a while - such a thing can't be eaten very quickly.
