outsiderslogs | O Canada [closed]

who. Canada and Tony Foster
what. Heading toward roommatedom
where. The residential area
when. Eveningish, as people blunder around looking for space
warnings. Politeness and moose? Nah, nothing.

Tony had never been very good at putting himself forward. Back in gradeschool, the teacher's announcement that they should find partners had paralyzed him and he'd stood awkwardly until he was arbitrarily paired with whoever else was left over. Now he drifted nervously, hoping he might find an unclaimed living space where he could just camp out unnoticed. He was perfectly aware that it was a bad idea for both avoiding the ire of the very readily irritated authorities and wouldn't make integrating easy, but it was hard not to be contrary about it.

So he meandered, poking nervously with his toe at doors and then deciding against it, occasionally planning to say hello to people and realizing he wasn't sure what he wanted to say, then losing the thread and missing his chance, and being distracted by the crazy situation on top of it all. He was a crabby Tony in pretty short order.

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Canada had dropped her purse on a bed and left America in the room. While she was rooming with him on the premise that someone needed to keep an eye on Americas, male or female, she still wanted to look around the area. She was still holding out hope this was a dream--or if this was real that there was someone from home.

She needed a new set of clothes, the evening wear wouldn't last long in actual work, but that would need to wait for tommorow. Whenever tommorow was on a station in the middle of space. Smiling at passerby, she watched the people filter into rooms, about to speak up when someone passes, but hesitates when they walk right past. When someone finally seems to stop for a moment, she steps up.

"Ah...Hello?" Oh that was a bit awkward but there wasn't much else to say. 'How are you finding your sudden displacement onto a space station' was a bit of a mouthful.

A pity, because he would have had more to say in response to How are you finding your sudden displacement onto a space station? But at least he didn't have to figure out the initial hello. He hadn't felt this awkward since his teen years, and that was accounting for those few days spent chasing his shadow-possessed coworkers all over Vancouver.

"Hi." He tried to be polite, since the alternative would get him nowhere and he was no longer a bundle of nothing but nerves. "Uh, I'm Tony." He extended a hand to shake automatically.

Canada automatically takes his hand, polite to a fault after all, and smiles. Tony. She commits out to memory and begins to reply, when she catches herself. Her normal introduction to humans, 'I'm Madeline Williams', does her no good here. Does it matter really? Its a split second decision and the words are out of her mouth before she can reconsider.

"I'm Canada, its lovely to meet you. Well, it would be under better circumstances. Ones where I'm not trapped billions of miles from home."

"Uh, interesting name." He associates with people who have stage names all the time, and he's run into some odd ones, but Canada? Unless hippie parents are originally at fault. That happens, too. Though he supposes he shouldn't assume she's from his world. Maybe in some other reality, Canada is the name of a good dessert or a nice flower.

He'd like to explain that she's les a billion miles from home, most likely, and more somewhere entirely perpendicular to home, but he can't quite let the Canada thing go. "Is that a family name?" He's trying not to snicker.

Canada sees the amusement on his face and shrugged her shoulders. He obviously didn't get it. Not that he would get it right away. To be honest, she'd be surprised if he did.

"You could say that. I'm Canada and I was named by my people. I consider my citizens my children so I really suppose it's a family name." She taps her chin, "But honestly, this is probably not what you meant. I'm the country. Canada."

"Huh. The statue makes you look taller." Tony's thinking of Canada Bereft, which is the closest thing he can really conjure up to a national personification. The idea isn't the weirdest thing he's ever encountered by far, though accepting it entirely at face value is still a bit beyond him. She could, after all, be nuts.

She wrinkles her nose, "The statue? You mean, the one in France? They didn't use me as a model. I think it's more appropriate that way. I don't like to think of myself as bereft."

There's a pause, "Are you French then?"

"No, Canadian. Not even French Canadian. Born in Toronto, living in Vancouver, couldn't be more Canadian unless I took up lumberjacking on mooseback for the mounties. It's just... Mother Canada is kind of a national symbol. I guess. If anything is." He'd never bothered to think much about it. Of all the odd things that had come up, personifying the country he happened to inhabit was not one of them.

Her whole face lit up. Her citizen, right here, in front of her. She can't resist the urge to fix his clothes and tidy his hair, mothering through and through. Her whole demeanor seems to change really. It was never that she was unwelcoming before, but the degree of familiarity changes as she takes up guardianship. He can surely care for himself but protecting him would come before herself now.

"I'm pleased to meet you then. I was just in Vancouver actually, for New Years, I celebrate at one coast and then the other. Mother Canada is no more me than Mother Russia, Marianne or Brittiania are their countries. Symbols, but not...the country." She frowns, "Though France uses Marianne as a human name sometimes."

Explaining this in a convoluted way is probably not helping, but realizing he is her own is certainly distracting.

Her citizen has never responded very well to fussing, and he stands awkwardly, trying to make sense of her explanation. If there are, in fact, sentient personifications of countries, he can see why they might not have much to do with leftovers from patriotic political cartoons and war memorials. Why there should be sentient personifications of countries he can't guess. "Huh. Ah, wouldn't have guessed."

O Canada [closed]

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