Make a Man Out of You [Sealand]

Peter hadn't been quite certain of what to make of his Uncle's invitation over to his house. The stated reasoning behind it was weird. Teach him how defend himself properly? But he had a canon! He could make bombs! More importantly, he knew Mister Tino! Daddy's best friend was really, really scary with a gun, he'd have them know. Peter was utterly convinced, actually, that when he chose to be, Daddy's best friend was one-hundred-percent the scariest Nordic. Everyone didn't agree with him, but Peter knew he was right. So why, exactly, did Uncle Mathias think he couldn't shoot a weapon? Peter had no idea, hence his original reaction of cocking his head and wondering if his Uncle was being condescending on purpose or was just stupid like his Daddy said he was. Peter decided on the latter. He knew Denmark, after all.

Still, as tempted as Peter was to point out that this situation was ridiculous, he realized that it basically gave him the ability to show up in Denmark if he wanted to, something that he might not have otherwise had. Plus, Uncle Mathias was silly, and often did ridiculous things. It was amusing to visit him. So he'd decided to visit anyway, since he'd been given the ability to do so. It would probably be fun! Plus, he could probably make something useful out of the visit. Maybe he could find something to steal- um, maybe not steal. Not directly from Denmark's house? Just maybe if there was something he particularly needed it might end up in his hands because- um, yeah... Well, at any rate, there really hadn't been a good reason not to visit Uncle Mathias, even if Peter hadn't had a particularly good reason, per se, to actually go.

That, at least, is how Peter wound up looking for his Uncle's house in a relatively unfamiliar area. He hadn't visited in... How long had it been? Not that Peter visited terribly often before the war, either, since most of the time he saw the Nordics when they came over to his Daddy's house, rather than when he went to visit theirs. The war just made it so that not only did this rule hold fast, but he didn't ever actually see most of his Uncles, either. He supposed that right their might constitute a "good" reason: the chance to see someone he was theoretically related to that he hadn't seen in a while. Yeah. It totally wasn't to laugh at his most ridiculous Uncle or to steal- um, illegally take?- things or just to have an excuse to be somewhere he wasn't normally supposed to be. Yep. Totally. Oh, look, there was Denmark's house!

He rang the doorbell and waited. Soon enough and sure enough, there was his Uncle, already ridiculous. Peter stifled a giggle. Was he still wearing pajamas? Surely he hadn't forgotten he was coming over? But it didn't take long to prove that yes, this was exactly what had happened. Peter tried very hard not to laugh at Uncle Mathias, he really did, but really? Even though he knew exactly why he was over, Peter just grinned to himself before saying, as cutely as possible, "Well, I dunno Uncle! You invited me over here!" He then proceeded to actually start laughing when his Uncle ran back inside, presumably to check a calendar or something. He calmed himself down. This had been completely worth it for sheer silliness factor alone. Totally worth it.

It took a few more minutes for his Uncle to actually come back, and he came skidding to the door. "No problem!" he chirped. That's was true, because it was somewhat amusing to see a fully-grown Nation run around in his pajamas. "Okay! I hope it's fun, learning how to be a man. Does it involve shooting canons?"

This was going to be great.

Yes. This was, indeed, going to be fun. The fact that Uncle Mathias was standing in front of him wearing lega pajamas, eating a yogurt- the pajamas. Maybe he could take a picture? Peter was fairly certain that Daddy, at least, would find it amusing, as would some of his other uncles. Maybe he'd get that almost-smile Daddy gave when he was particularly happy, that expression that to anyone else was cold and stoic but made Peter want to laugh and dance and sing to the heavens about it? Yeah. He discretely pulled out his phone and hit the photo button. Hopefully Uncle Mathias hadn't noticed, or if he had, would take it in good humor.

That was part of why Peter liked Uncle Mathias; he was silly and funny, sure, but he was also just such a genuine and nice person. He wasn't certain his uncle could hold a straight face to save his life, and after living with his Jerk Brother and then being adopted by Daddy, it was somewhat refreshing. And maybe Peter took advantage of that when he could, that utter openness and kindness. Not that he didn't love his family, because he did, his did more than he loved anything else in the world (except perhaps his People and Paddy Roy Bates, but Mister Bates had been family, too). There was something there, though. It was an open emotionality that Peter was aware of. It was a natural trust that Peter himself wasn't sure he had anymore. It- it was kinda nice, even if Uncle Mathias was a little bit of an idiot sometimes. Really, he didn't mind.

So Peter grinned when his Uncle mentioned his canon. "It's an anti-air canon! I haven't used it much, and I think most people would call it a gun, but canon sounds cooler!" He was still grinning like a maniac. He hoped he didn't have to actually use it to hit an airplane. For one thing, Peter had almost no idea how to. He hadn't tried before, not personally. For another thing, it was out of date like everything else he had. Mostly, though, it meant that there would be nothing left of his ability to avoid things. It would mean no more of his neutrality, not that he was horribly "nuetral" if by that one meant he stayed out of the war entirely. Peter just didn't have the means to actually keep a sustained attack away. Not really. He would practically be forced to immediately surrender for the saftey of all of his People. Most of his territory was underwater and carefully pressurized. One breach and- well, it didn't bear thinking.

Geez, though. Sobering thought, that was, and he'd come over to Uncle Mathias's to laugh. Peter shook the thought away. Instead, his biggest grin, which has wavered for just a moment, opened up again and he stepped inside as Uncle Mathias invited him. "I don't mind the pajamas," he quipped. Darn. No more blackmail embarrassing actually, this was Uncle Mathias, so it was probably best described as simply no more amusing photos. Peter doubted one could embarrass Uncle Mathias quite so simply. The picture would be unt, though.

"Thanks!" he said, walking inside, taking a few moments to actually find the kitchen because Peter was good at navigation, not with finding things in man-made buildings that Peter hadn't been in before. He found it soon enough and opened up the fridge. He quickly looked behind him. He didn't like wine (that was a really long story and a really bad idea from the start don't ask), but he did like messing with people. He grabbed the carrots and the bottle of wine and sniggered. He wondered what Uncle Mathias's reaction would be? For a moment, he considered actually opening it, but nah, just having it out would be enough. He started to eat the carrots and waited for Uncle Mathias to get back in.

Whoops. It appeared that Uncle Mathias had noticed Peter's not-entirely-stealthy picture taking. He'd forgotten that the camera's click didn't turn down with the volume. That was probably to make sure people couldn't do, well, exactly what Peter was doing, really. Whoever made phone cameras was boring. At least Uncle Mathias didn't seem to care, which really was about what Peter expected from his Uncle. Uncle Mathias was the fun one who didn't let anything get to him. Hey! Maybe he could show the picture to the other micronations next time they met up? I

If they met up.

Right. Don't think about that. He was at Uncle Mathias's house to have fun, and he definitely did not need to think about the fact that he hadn't seen some of the other micronations in a long time, that Mr. Austria was a little too close to the front lines for him to feel comfortable letting Kugel go anywhere, that Wy and Hutt River were a plane flight over lots of hostile areas, that Seborga and the Italian siblings were as much at war as everyone else, that Peter didn't have a valid enough passport to get past Mr. America's paranoid security, let alone Molassia's, that Ladonia had those cycles of hating him and grudgingly call him friend that made a visit with him a crapshoot and that visiting him only ever happened if he was around while Peter was visiting Sweden anyway, that getting more than two of them at the same place at the same time was- right. Right. Next time there was a meeting, he'd show them! No need to think about the tiny likelihood of that. He should focus on his ridiculous Uncle instead.

Cooler things? Oh, was Uncle Mathias going to let him near some serious weapons? Peter worked relatively hard to make sure his smile remained completely, totally, and one-hundred-percent innocent. Yep. Picture of an angle- er, angel- right here, Uncle. Nothing to worry about. It's definitely not your nephew who learned how to sharp-shoot from Finland and who knows how to make homemade explosives. Why would he know those things? Nothing to worry about!

This was going to be so much fun.

It helped that Uncle Mathias's reaction upon seeing the wine bottle was hilarious. He felt appropriately vindicated that Uncle Mathias first feared Daddy's Tino before anyone else. Yep. All of Peter's family knew who the most intimidating Nordic was. Well, that and Daddy, but Daddy wasn't actually all that scary if you got to know him. Though, now that Peter thought about it, Daddy could be kinda scary when Peter was threatened. That was probably why Uncle Mathias didn't like having Peter over more than every once in a while, actually. Because his parents were scary. Yeah.

Also, his rational was perfect. Peter was proud. That was top-line rule-skirting, right there. "One-hundred-and-three!" he chirped. Turning one-hundred had been a big deal, too. He'd been hoping that he'd get bigger when that happened, actually, except he hadn't. Peter was pretty certain that his new People had been helping him get taller, though admittedly not that much taller. He'd get taller eventually. 

Wait. Had Uncle Mathias already forgotten the cool weapons? That just wouldn't do. "You were teaching me about weapons (I think)!" Peter reminded him, trying to sound extremely helpful and innocent. "Something about things cooler than anti-aircraft artillery? Protecting myself?" He looked up at his Uncle extremely hopefully. Yes. Uncle Matthias would have to show him something cool now!

Don't tell Uncle Finland? Oh, Peter could manage that, but he was very, very tempted to tell his Daddy and see what happened. Or at least, he would be tempted. Unfortunately, Peter's Daddy would probably catch on really fast to the fact that Peter had been pulling a prank, and he already got in enough trouble for getting into trouble. Which wasn't fair, just so everyone knew. Well, it was sort of fair, he guessed, since his Daddy would have been worried and all that, but really! He shouldn't get in trouble for managing to get himself into ridiculous situations all the time! That was a thing that just sort of happened to him! It was probably mostly his fault (Peter refused to believe that it was pure fate, since that didn't exist), really, but still.

So he just said "Okay!" with that same I'm-totally-innocent grin that he used whenever he was being silly and pulling pranks like this. Also, it was the same sort of grin he wore when he was holding things he wasn't supposed to have behind his back or, upon occasion, when he was actually innocent. Not that the last option was terribly common. He didn't typically have to give an I'm-totally-innocent grin if he hadn't actually done something wrong. It looked like Uncle Mathias hadn't even noticed that he hadn't actually taken a drink, too! Or maybe he had, and he just assumed Peter was about to. It was still funny.

But he'd really come because Uncle Mathias was amusing, and also because Uncle Mathias had access to weapons that weren't either decades out of date or mostly made from scratch, and it would be fun to see them. Peter's own arsenal wasn't very big, after all, though he made due. By doing things like homemaking explosives, which were actually quite good as surprises and distractions when he needed them because no one expected him to actually go sprinting out of a blast when he set one off while still in close range. Being made of metal had so many useful qualities...

Peter raised an eyebrow in amusement at his Uncle's comment. Hit puberty? He still hadn't managed to do that after getting more People of late! He followed his Uncle through the house, wondering where exactly they were going. Aparently not a military base. In truth, putting Peter on a military base was a horrible idea, and even his more ridiculous of uncles probably knew that one to be true. So he had to have some kind of awesome weapon stash in his house, then! The way Uncle Mathias was snickering was also sort of amusing. Peter felt like he was in a spy movie of some kind! That was awesome!

The feeling of being in a spy movie only increased when they got to their location. Peter could only stare somewhere between bemusedly and incredulously at the painting Uncle Mathias had. That- that seemed a bit egotistical, honestly, as well as completely and utterly ridiculous. Why would you waste that much space for a picture of yourself where you could put pictures of your friends, drawings you've made together, lots and lots of flags, various blueprints, and a few posters, and probably another air vent somewhere? You could see yourself in a mirror whenever you wanted, but seeing your friends, well, you could hardly do that but so often, see? If Peter had made a ridiculous painting, and it had to have himself in it, well then, Peter would have put all of his friends and family in it as well, probably nearly in front of him. 

Also, the painting showed Uncle Mathias growling. If that wasn't absurd, Peter didn't know what was.

But then things got weird and Uncle Mathias actually flipped back the painting and pressed a button, and a bookcase slid over. Peter couldn't help it. He just cracked up. 'I'm Kohler, Mathias Kohler," he said in an exaggeratedly deep voice. "Where- why did you spend money on this," he continued, still laughing. "How- just- pffft," he said, trying and failing to pull himself together. This was so over-the-top. It was great.

Although, in the back of Peter's head? The 'why did you spend money on this' made him frown. If Peter had that much money, he would have made more room in his fort, he would have improved ventilation (again), he would have set up the emergency water-lock system with an inspection, he would have bought a submarine (if he legally could figure out how to) in order to inspect things from the outside, in order to covertly move people when they needed moving. Even back when Peter was not isolated and at war, he couldn't really imagine spending that much money on something like this. He'd gotten surprisingly good at settling for lower-quality if he thought he could fix it himself, building it from scraps if he couldn't afford much else, taking rations last because everyone else deserved better. Building a swinging painting, getting the painting commissioned, building a sliding bookcase- that all seemed a bit wasteful to Peter. He just had to remember that Uncle Mathias wasn't in Peter's situation and probably never had been. Yeah. That made more sense.

Besides, once he went in Uncle Mathias's weapon storage, Peter's brief consternation at amount of money spent faded entirely. This was awesome. He stood and stared for a moment before saying "This is going to be great!" and giggling. "Ooh! What's the coolest thing you have here? Why don't you show me that!"

Peter got an amused look as Uncle Mathias attempted to explain why, exactly, he had the most absurd security measures Peter had ever seen on just about anything ever. He still didn't quite get it. Gilbert was Prussia, right? Peter didn't know Prussia but so well (after how TRNC reacted when Peter invited him to hang out with them Peter decided that Prussia would probably be a little bit offended to be invited to what someone had called at least once the "phony nation club", plus he was old). He was fairly certain, though, that Prussia hadn't had any major wars with Denmark that he could remember, though his knowledge of history sometimes had some pretty big gaps compared to other Nations.

So he felt that "Why? was a reasonable question. Why, exactly, would Prussia be stealing his Uncle's weapons? Uncle Mathias seemed to find it more funny than anything else, so it couldn't be malicious. Actually, Peter knew that Uncle Mathias and Prussia were friends. So he wasn't quite certain why, exactly, Prussia would wake up his uncle by climbing out of a window with some kind of weaponry. Maybe he could chalk it up to 'grown-ups are weird, especially if they're Nations'? That had to be the only explanation. Yeah.

But he stopped thinking about that, too, after he saw the weapons room. His hand moved towards his pocket. There was a Swiss Army knife, a pencil, and a sketchbook sitting in his pockets. He nearly grabs the knife, though mostly for the screwdrivers, pliers, and everything else. But he figures his Uncle wouldn't be too happy about that. Instead he just asks for the coolest thing and hopes for the best. Maybe it's something he could replicate? He'd have to see. He sure knew he wasn't going to be able to afford whatever it was, or even nick it off of someone else, especially considering his Uncle's tendency to go a bit overboard (not that Peter didn't also do that from time to time).

Then his Uncle Mathias came back. With a lightsaber. That appeared to work.

"What- how- that is so cool!" He grinned, and, unable to help it at this point, he actually did grab his sketchbook. He then proceeded to start babbling. "Do you know- can I look at it? Does it actually cut things? If so, how is it made so you aren't burning yourself right now, because of heat induction, I mean, on your hands? How does it make the beam only go a short distance instead of traveling across the room? Does it emit some kind of gas and excite the particles, making it glow- you know, like neon, or krypton since yours is green- or is it something completely different? If it is a gas, how does it contain the gas? How do you power it? Do you have to charge it for long? I haven't seen anything that does that before! This is so cool!"

He laughed as he immediately started drawing it in his book. "Do you have another one? That we could take apart? Do you think you'd be able to help me put it back together if we did? I could probably figure it out, though. How well insulated do you think it will be, I mean, to keep the heat in? Would it actually bounce off another lightsaber? I can't figure out how it would do that! Maybe something to do with electromagnetic force...? Oh! Does it have any strong magnets in it? Just so I know and don't destroy my phone or something!"

Peter's inner physics and mechanics geek was freaking out just a little bit. This was so cool. Totally worth the effort he went through to get to Denmark. 

Uncle Mathias remained ridiculous. Peter had switched from somewhat baffled about his Uncle and Prussia's relationship to trying very, very hard not to break out into peals of laughter again because wow, just- did he actually just say that? He wondered if Uncle Mathias realized he just sounded ridiculous when he tried to use what he probably thought was commonly used English slang (actually, American, England would kill him if he tried to say things like that, but it was the same language at least) like that? Mind you, it was not the first time, but still. Peter really wondered if he should inform Uncle Mathias that saying things like that made him sound more like a teenage girl, or perhaps Poland, than anything else.

...Nah, he'd figure it out. Eventually. When someone made fun of him. Peter would have felt bad except insults just sort of rolled off of Denmark's massive ego. Like water off of a fish. Wait. That wasn't the expression. Actually, he was pretty sure it was like water off a duck's back. Except, well, wouldn't water roll off of a fish much easier? Also, it was better analogy, because fish were surrounded by water and Peter was fairly certain Uncle Mathias was mostly unaware of how much people made fun of him, which was a lot of the time. Even Peter was slightly guilty of it, clearly, but if he ever got any indication that it did anything other than make his Uncle laugh, he'd stop, and he wasn't ever actually all that mean. He hadn't had to stop yet, at least.

Although, a moment after he stopped throwing questions at his Uncle, Peter realized that he might have just stunned his Uncle into silence. With science. It wasn't even that hard! Sort of! He had an advantage because he was sort-of kind-of mostly engineered machinery for part of his life and so had taken to the science like a duck took to water (wait, that one was the fish, like a fish to water), but it wasn't like he'd said anything that confusing, right? He'd just been talking a little bit too much. Although, if he ever needed to stun his Uncle into not-talking, maybe all he'd have to do was talk about his latest designs for the air pumps...

Wow he really wanted to take that apart. He wanted to take it apart very, very badly so that, if it had any parts he could replicate, he could replicate them. Now he sort of wished he'd not given up in frustration with the whole swordfighting thing that Seb had tried to teach him once. To be fair, the sword had been difficult to lift, and, even once Peter had managed that much, a bit too big for him. Also, it was probably much more efficient and much easier for Peter just to punch people than to bother with a sword, because his fist was literally made of steel and could do some serious damage if he tried hard enough.

But a lightsaber was completely different.

His Uncle mostly looked baffled. Peter looked at it again, scribbled a note down in his notebook exacting what the closest thing to the exact shade of green was that he could come up with, before putting it down and blushing. "Oh! Sorry! I like figuring out how things work- are you sure you don't know how to take it apart? Er, I mean- Mister America made this? Or did you just get it from him? It's really cool! I wonder if I can get the plans off of just the outside? Probably not- oh wow I'm just starting to talk again aren't I but that thing doesn't even look computerized, except maybe a sound chip, which is great because no programming- I mean, it could be computerized, but that would be dumb."

He sounded like such a dork and he didn't care. (If he'd ever stopped being Roughs, he would have been an engineer, and he would have built amazing things, and fixed many more things, and made many people smile.)

Peter's eyes lit up when he was offered the lightsaber. Potential danger and/or parental disapproval didn't even cross his mind. Instead, with a gleam in his eyes, he said with complete certainty: "Yes." Because, honestly, how cool was that.

(Also maybe he could estimate the mass of the thing/estimate the heat output/figure out more of how it worked.)

As Peter looked with intense curiosity and excitement at the glowing blade, already examining how it cut the dummy, his Uncle geared up to tell a story, so Peter got really quiet. Sometimes, Uncle Mathias had the most absolutely insane stories, and they were great. They were probably a bad influence or whatever, but Peter figured that his Daddy was a good enough good influence and that he already knew how to as well as had actually pulled things like put an entire suitcase of shampoo through airport security so it would be pretty hard for actual bad influences to become a thing that matter.

He looked up at Uncle Mathias intently. He probably should have realized just how ridiculous the entire story was going to be starting at the line "I was hanging out at Al’s house...", considering that anytime Uncle Mathias was combined with Mister America or Prussia, things typically ended... weirdly. Grown-ups were weird. His Uncle was occasionally really, really weird. And this was coming from the micronation. If he could call someone a bit absurd without feeling like a pot calling the kettle black, they were probably a bit absurd.

The story was then compounded by a copious amount of drinking (he hadn't passed out yet?) and then... then Peter honestly had no idea what was going on from that point forward but it seemed pretty hilarious anyway? Like, he really, really had no idea what was going on at that point. He felt a teeny weeny bit like he was probably listening to a super unreliable narrator, considering how drunk his Uncle had been at the time (taking a shot everytime someone mentions "The Force" in a Star Wars movie seemed like a recipe for this). 

Peter wound up just sort of staring blankly for a moment before taking a moment to himself just to laugh. "And- how do you even get into these situations?" He laughed again. He hadn't said it in a mean voice. If anything, he was just in complete awe. No situation, no matter how ridiculous, could be bad if one ended up with a lightsaber by the time things were said and done, after all. "I mean- honestly, I'm surprised this didn't end with Uncle Lucas and/or Mister Canada bailing you out of jail (that seems to happen somewhat often at the end of your stories?), but however it happened that's just- just sort of hilarious and completely awesome all at the same time!"

The offered lightsaber soon distracted Peter again. He eagerly took it. The first thing he noticed was that it was light. The blade had no weight whatsoever, though the handle seemed to have been designed with a heavy top weight to somewhat simulate the weight of an actual blade. That was probably a good thing. The complete lack of weight on the lightsaber would have probably otherwise made it very easy to forget where the tip was, and as a result easily injure someone. Peter still felt like he could, if he wasn't careful. It would be easy to swing around, actually, without even intending to. So, as a result, Peter kept his eyes carefully trained on it, his hands held firmly against it. Wow. It was really light. This was weird.

When he swung it, some of the noise was natural, but Peter was fairly certain there was a soundbox of some kind. It offered very little resistance against the dummy, due to the lack of solid material on the blade's end. That was another way you could injure someone without thinking with a sword like this, actually; you could cut someone's hand off without even feeling it was happening. If it wasn't for the top weight on the handle, he wouldn't have even felt the momentum of the movement due to the weightless nature of the blade. It wasn't at all like swinging a real sword. He'd tried that once, it had belonged to Seborga, they'd both determined Peter couldn't use a sword to save his life.

But this was a little different. Almost terrifyingly easy, actually. And it would probably cut through steel- Peter nearly winced, and he redoubled his efforts not to hurt himself with the lightweight blade. He didn't like heated things, especially long, cutting heated things, 'cause heat? Heat was one of the things that could cut through to his actual vital organs and do some really, really serious damage. Bullets, blunt force, concussive wounds, he'd be fine in a few hours, he'd be protected by his layers of steel. Taking a hit from something like this? He didn't want to think about it (he'd never really had the healing factor that older Nations had, just a great deal of defensive protections).

Not that this wasn't fantastic, mind you. He barely felt any heat loss through the metal handle. It had to have been super well insulated. Heck, he couldn't feel the radiant heat from the blade. This was, at the least, a miracle of engineering. He was jealous. How exactly had his Uncle and Mister America gotten to come across such a  fantastic piece of technology while drunk, anyway? And yes, Peter doubted it actually had anything to do with people in Mickey Mouse costumes. Peter suspected the alien dude that 'Lassia sometimes mentioned when talking about his brother. 

He deactivated the blade and watched as the energy slid down, though if he looked closely he could see that it was really flickering out and that some special effects were in play. He looked closely at the metal tube, and expression of sheer awe on his face. 

"Please let me take one apart?" he asked, almost reverently. "Just... wow."