Ménage

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Although Prussia was a rather...eh...dryish fellow, he certainly proved himself otherwise. Starting up a faux war to spite the new and peacemongering generation was a plan of genius and madness. I was content with joining sides and happily agreed to pass on the information needed to my son and his children.  Although the ecocentrism and egoism showed through the fabric of his scheme, it was nonetheless rewarding to see how we could easily dismantle the republics. Not to mention how infuriated German Empire looked as his father told him to quit in front of everyone. 

Meanwhile, Prussia was smirking at America, who was trying to become as invisible as possible. German Empire stood a little back, twiddling his thumbs in uncertainty. I came up to them and watched what Prussia would do now. He turned to me with a knowing look. 

"Will you be telling your...offspring about this?" Prussia turned to me. 

"Of course," I nodded. "I don't particularly enjoy his presence, but I suppose he's all I have."

Dropping his voice to a raspy whisper, he made sure his son was out of earshot. "German Empire will not follow what I say. He'll want to make sure that there is harmony," he spat out the word. "I'll make sure that word spreads down the family line."

"Your grandchildren have quite the war appetite," I mused. "My own son behaves much like a lethargic bear. It'll take much to get him going, but I know how riled he can get afterwards."

"Mhm," he agreed. "It's quite difficult to predict their reactions though.  I have no idea how much Weimar has changed these past years, although I hear he's become a borderline pacifist. All I know about my other horrid grandson is that his methods were abysmal failures." he muttered. 

"He didn't facilitate his total war correctly. There's a fine line between a general and a micromanager. There is not much to be said for him. Although I feel he will be terribly excited." he spoke in a removed tone, as if he didn't care for either of them. 

"I'll be off then," I said, not particularly interested in Prussia's ranting. "To see my own Ménage."

He looked at me quizzically. "Family?"

"Most unfortunately,"

"Ah, well. Good luck." 

I watched my peers for a few moments, thinking of them as a commodity. "You must have good logistical analysis skills, yes?"

"I suppose,"

"How are you to get the folk moving?"

"It doesn't take much," he smiled, prodding America with his foot. The latter seemed unresponsive. "All you need is to tap the psychological mechanism that makes them tick."

"Aha, that's what you've been doing, eh?" I laughed. "Reading up on psychological programming?"

"It takes more than a few hours," he replied with a rather ingenuine glittery smile. "I don't want to be in the way of very important matters you must attend to. Good day." with that, he whisked away, leading his son into the throng. I smirked and continued my way. 

There was much for me to do rather than stay and intermingle with my newly excited fellows. I had to come back home to greet my hostile son and his rather annoying, loud, not to mention pilfering, children.  

"Do you feed your offspring, USSR?" I asked one day. 

"Of course!" he replied defensively. "Why would you say that? They aren't that skinny." 

"No," I shook my head. "It is just that I've found that my palace inventory lacks, hm, eighty quill pens, twenty stacks of paper, twelve hardbound monastery books, nine bibles, four icons, three candlesticks, and one chandelier."

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