Wttt West Virginia - Tumblr Posts

Civil

From the day of her creation to the present day, Robin knows how to be civil.

*Blood and Injury, Implied Murder, Implied Cannibalism, and references to poor mental states*

———————————————————————

Congress had been sick since the end of March.

It was a similar sort to when the Revolution was dying down, when their government was in a rocky and unstable position. Robin doesn’t know what’s causing it, the Senators have been tight-lipped— and she’s much too busy taking care of her husband to interrogate them.

She manages to get him to stay home, but he doesn’t stop working— the infuriating man he is.

The house had been tense the last while, what with the secession of several states already. 7 if she remembered, one of them being Georgia— something that had broken her Adam’s heart— and there were threats of others doing the same.

Several of her children had seceded, and it…hurt. She hadn’t felt that in a while, not since the 1810’s, when their parents left them behind.

She knew the rapid secession was likely a cause of Adam’s illness, and she hoped it would pass.

But on April 12, 1861, she had gone out to the capital early that morning, remaining civil with the politicians even as they grated on her nerves and patience.

The house was silent.

Her children— their States— were nowhere to be found. She knew their Departments were in DC, working as they did every day.

But the States wouldn’t leave without notice.

And she smelled it, a pungent smell that she had grown used to in the Revolution— a smell she never wanted to smell in her own home.

Blood.

There was only one person home.

“Adam!” She calls, setting her groceries on the counters to be put away at a later time, sprinting up the stairs.

The smell was coming from his office.

The door was unlocked, not that it would hold against her if it wasn’t.

She bursts into the office, eyes wild— he wasn’t in his chair, but—

She could see a hand on the floor behind the desk.

“ADAM!” She shrieks, dropping down beside him.

Pale skin, wide eyes, gasping breaths as his hands claw at his midsection— a large wound slowly cutting across his skin, blood pouring from it as his hands dig further into his flesh.

———————————————————————

She managed to get him to bed, having to knock him out to do so— she hopes when he wakes, he won’t be so afraid.

She wrapped the wound, the shape familiar— a four-pointed star stretching across his chest. Horizontal points stretching to his sides, the vertical points going from just below the hollow of his throat to the bottom of his ribs.

…

It hadn’t stopped bleeding, and she's had to change the bandages every hour.

She runs a hand through Adam’s hair, damp with sweat, body moving roughly with gasping breaths. Her free hand holds one of his close to her chest.

The air crackles.

“Mother!” A voice call from downstairs, and soon thundering footsteps reach the bedroom door, the wood scratching the ground as its shoved open.

Her son, Gideon— the Department of State—stares at her with a heaving chest and wide, frightened eyes.

“Did you hear?” He asks breathlessly, helplessly, body freezing at the sight of his Father.

“Hear what?” She whispers, afraid, for the first time in her life. Her hold on Adam’s hand tightens.

Gideon doesn’t take his eyes off the man lying in the bed.

“The Confederates attacked Fort Sumter this morning.” He whispers, frantic and pained, and Robin feels her chest squeeze. “They’ve declared war.”

Adam’s body jerks, and his mouth opens in a blood-curdling scream.

———————————————————————

DC was the one at President Lincoln’s side when he officially declared the start of the War, on April 15.

Her husband, her Adam, couldn’t be left unattended for long.

He had to be restrained, forced the lay in their bed with his arms, legs, and midsection bound.

Else he’d try to tear his body apart with his own hands.

When he grew lucid, few and far between the last several days, she would undo his wrists and loosen around his midsection, allowing him to sit up.

She changed his bandages every hour, the wound still bleeding as it had that first day.

Not a word from the States came, but she sensed their presence closeby several times.

She knew the Confederates would reach their land at some point. But that was fine.

She’s experienced in getting rid of evidence.

———————————————————————

“Please my love, my heart, my Infinity.” He begged, bloodied hands clutching tight to her arms, head buried in her neck as she tied off the bandage and held him close, blood dripping from his lips, “Please, spare me— kill me, please.”

Her hands are soft and gentle as they run down his back and through his hair, wild and untamed in the last few months.

“My love,” she whispers back to him, leaning away slightly and cupping his face— a touch he burrows in, the touch comforting and easing the excruciating pain he’s in, as her own eyes— deep with pain and sorrow as she gazes down at him, it makes him hold her tighter as he feels the lucidity start to leave him, fingers twitching to tear at his own flesh, “My soul, my Eternity…” the next breath she takes is shuddering, “I would ease your pain if I could, take it on my own to bear— but I can’t.” Her voice cracks, but he hardly hears it, eyes glazed as she hastens to rebind his wrists before he can tear into himself. “I’m sorry, my dear Adam.” She whispers in choked breaths, leaning down to rest her forehead on the bandages around his thrashing chest, “I’m so sorry.”

———————————————————————

Virginia has split once again, she learns.

It’s when she’s left Adam in the care of their oldest four sons— War, State, Treasury, and Attorney.

She’s making her way down South, eyes open across several miles ahead— searching for the Rebels with the same ferocity she hunted the Redcoats.

And she feels it.

The presence of a State.

A young State.

She knows the Western portion of Virginia didn’t agree with the Eastern side politically. She knew such disagreements often ended with a separate State.

But its 1863 and the Civil War is in full swing.

She never thought Virginia would leave a child out to die.

She veers off her path, into the shadowy underbrush with a crackle— and she re-emerges in a thick part of the forest. The terrain is rough, and she feels young eyes on her.

She kneels down, and two chubby hands reach out of the thickets.

Three years old in body, assigned Statehood on June 20th. West Virginia.

She couldn’t leave him here, but she couldn’t take him with her.

…

She can hunt Rebels another time.

———————————————————————

His name is West Virginia, but the kind lady that takes him from the Outside into an Inside calls him Boe— tells him that’s the name he uses with humans. She tells him that he’ll live with her until he’s grown, with all her other children.

She tells him the Man in the Room is the Government, that he is…West’s Pa, in a way.

He asks if that means she’s his Mama.

She just smiles at him, and pats his head.

“If you want me to be, sweetheart.”

He thinks he does.

———————————————————————

Her Adam’s eyes had always been green. The color of lush forests, of soft grass, the color of a unified nation standing strong against the tyranny that oppressed them.

But she’s noticed that they’ve been growing dull, the green fading into grey as the eyebags under his eyes grow.

Despite her efforts, he can’t sleep through the war, he still needs to eat and such, and even with the special blend of tea she made specifically to help him sleep through the pain, it’s hard for him to return to slumber once he’s woken.

She tries to keep the younger kids away when he’s not lucid, the time they get with him mostly when he’s asleep.

But when he’s awake and aware, even for a short while, he’ll smile and talk with them in a pained, hushed voice that makes her want to cry.

She never cried often before this...this Civil War. But, knowing it's her own family fighting this war— her parents and in-laws and her children—, the same war that’s slowly killing her husband, her best friend from the day they were placed upon the cursed earth to bend at the will of humans who knew nothing but their own greed…

She cries almost every day.

———————————————————————

The War ended almost four years later, almost to the day— April 9th, 1865. They would forever blame the Confederates for the fire she started in Richmond, and no one would ever find the bodies of the boy and girl she tore apart without hesitation— they’d never find Confederacy or his Subordinate.

She makes sure Richmond, the city himself, takes no damage from the fire— forcing every ounce of that pain onto the Rebel Government and his assistant and taking what is left. She cared not that their bodies were young, only that they had taken her children, her family, the States that have always been and will forever be hers.

They had taken them-they chose to leave- and that was something she could not forgive.

Her husband stops thrashing in the middle of the night, just after midnight on the 10th.

He’d been doing so for the last few months, non-stop, so when he finally falls silent and still she’s hit with the most violent surge of ill and fear. She tears out of her bed, a temporary one, they’d always slept together— regardless of the societal norms that dictate otherwise.

But instead of finding her dear Eternity dead— oh what would happen to her and the kids if he died?— she finds exhausted grey eyes staring up at her.

She inhales deep and shocked, frazzled.

“..Ro?” His voice is hoarse and quiet. “Ro, are you alright?”

She can only stare down at him.

“Robin?” He asks again, slightly louder, wrists moving in his restraints. “My Infinity?”

She tears his restraints off without a second thought, clambering into the bed beside him, throwing an arm over his side and burying herself in his embrace.

His hands are clumsy, running up and down her back as her shoulders start to shake.

“I’m alright, my dear.” He whispers against her temple, “I’m alright.”

“You’re not.” She whispers back, a shaky hand trailing along the scar— it finally stopped bleeding. “My dear Eternity, you’re—“

“Alright for now.” His voice is firm in a way she missed, a tone he took when the Senators were being difficult, a tone he took when he was certain of something. “You look exhausted, my love.”

She doesn’t respond, and the vibration of a hum rattles beneath her cheek.

“Sleep, my dear Robin.” He says, “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

“In the morning…” she mumbles, the stress finally leaving for the first time in ages, and she can’t fight the pull of sleep.

———————————————————————

Things had changed.

They all had changed.

Adam didn’t answer to Congress anymore— which was fine, she never called him that anyway. He was more stern and stoic, less merciful to those who wronged him— even despite the fact he was wheel-chair bound.

The wound that had bled for years had healed, but the rest of his body just wasn’t. He could no longer walk on his own, with the state of the Nation. Paralyzed from the waist down.

Robin was just happy he was there, lucid and awake and with her.

Even if none of the other States checked in, they had Minnesota, Oregon, Kansas, and West Virginia, and their newest addition– Nevada.

She’s not doing much on the Government front at the moment— her dear children had staged an intervention when she tried to go back to work.

“You gotta rest, Ma.” Treasury had said, “The last few years have been stressful.”

“The Meetings—“ she had tried, but West Virginia— with his chubby face and sweet, worried eyes (they put him up to this, they know she can’t argue with a baby), had stopped her.

“You’re gonna get hurt, Mama.” He had said, so soft and sad, his little lip quivering as he tugged on her skirts, “Like Papa did.”

She had folded easily under the gaze of her children, her Departments and her States, but she had refused to let DC go into the Meetings unprepared.

But it helped.

She could focus on herself, her husband, and her family without the stress of being a Government.

It helped when more States came, and she could focus on being their mother, on making sure they wouldn’t want to kill them secede like the others had. What did they do wrong? why did her babies want to leave her and kill their father? Didn’t their parents know what would happen? Did they not care?

And it only got better in the 1920’s.

Adam was no longer wheelchair bound, the economic boom allowing his body the strengthen, and the new advances in medicine allowing surgery and a cane— and he could finally walk again!

They danced across the country— and oh how she had missed dancing with him like they used to!

A lot of their time was spent in New York City, and she fully embraced the name her Poppa had created for himself— Thomas Jones was a frightening man and no one ever told them what Thomas threatened to do if they hurt his Baby Bird.

They may the Government Personifications, but Adam and Robin Jones were some of the top Mafia Couples of the age— never once getting caught.

Even those who had been in direct interaction with Mr. and Mrs. Jones couldn’t say what they looked like, they were never found.

It was one of the best times of Robin's life, and she knows her dear Eternity, her Adam, enjoyed it as well. Even as the depression came and it made his already injured body ill… it was nothing she couldn’t handle.

And then World War 2 began, and they let the other nations fight. They stayed out of it. For a while, at least.

Hawai’i…she had been young. One of the few territory personifications they willed into being, simply due to the fact Hawai’i was so far from everything else that it was harder to keep protected without the personification. She wasn’t even truly theirs, but she’s their daughter in all the ways that matter.

And that...that Imperial had taken their kindness- their negotiations- and stomped all over it. It left her seething, her teeth itching for the taste of blood and flesh- humans had never been delicious as a fellow fragment, she hasn’t had a taste in so long-

But her Adam had taken her hands, and whispered so softly to her before she could burn Japan to the ground and feast.

“Let me do this, my dear.” He says so sweetly, smiles so softly, but his eyes burn with a fury and it's a combination he wore often in the Revolution. “You took care of the Rebel, allow me to take care of the Imperial.”

And she lets him, watching with glee— helping Mikala recover as the bombs drop.

She feels no guilt towards the civilians, nor to the Cities themselves. They aren’t hers, they mean nothing to her.

She feels nothing but a hatred for Imperial Japan, and nothing but joy as her Adam comes back with one less bullet and a bloodied guntō.

They always liked taking trophies, the many items of the Redcoats they have in their basement trophy room— the one room only they are allowed inside— are proof of that fact.

The blood makes it an eye-catching feature of the room, no?

By the year 2000, more trophies were taken. USSR and Nazi Germany’s Personifications shattered like glass beneath their bloodthirst.

The Iron Crosses, scorched and melted together to make a sort of screaming face, are an interesting art piece.

And the brown, bullet-ridden jacket is one her sweet Alaska had nightmares of before they took it.

And that’s not to mention the skulls! She’s sure they rival Frances’ Catacombs by now. It’s a lovely thing they've made over the years.

———————————————————————

It’s 2023, the first Meeting she’ll be part of in over a hundred years.

She feels no nervousness, she’s an expert after all.

She hears her Adam’s voice through the door, a rough barking sound that makes her giggle.

“Sit down! Sit down— Ian, I will ground you from the alligator ponds for a month if you don’t sit down! We have an important someone joining us today, and she’ll be very cross if you don’t behave!”

She hears the shuffling of feet, the scratching of chairs, and— finally— silence.

Her Adam sighs.

“Alright, good, good.” He mutters, and she feels a tug.

She follows it, allowing the air to crackle until she’s standing next to him in the meeting room.

———————————————————————

Her smile is still gentle and kind, they notice, posture perfect and suit without a mark or crease.

Most can’t believe their eyes, though there are several who aren’t surprised to see her, the ones who came after the Civil War visited her often.

Stormy blue-grey eyes they remember so fondly, as they ran amuck across the Pennsylvania property. Who tended to their injuries, no matter how small, and held them when they were frightened. The woman they call Mother.

The sweet face they remember so carefully handling the birds. The smile they had seen grow so wide and bright on her wedding day. The girl they call Daughter.

“Everyone.” Gov says loudly, firmly, rising from his seat to stand beside her. He makes a small gesture, to show her off with a barely concealed pride. “Robin Jones, the Executive Assistant, will be joining us from now on.”

“Hello.” She greets, smile never once dropping, a practiced ease, “It’s a pleasure to see all of you.”

And it is, despite how her chest still aches some nights— just as she knows Adam’s does. How they left so easily and simply never came back.

But, perhaps— she thinks, as she notices several sets of eyes grow wet with an emotion she can’t help but name ‘relief’— they could start to heal.

She could be civil, at least, until then.

Doors

The States try and open the door. Gov starts to have a breakdown.

———————————————————————

Florida stares hard at the front door of the Statehouse, expression serious.

Louisiana side-eyed him with concern, and everyone else stayed a few feet away.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, sha?” Louie asks, but Florida doesn’t turn away.

“Papi’s here, right?”

They know it’s him, know that Gov is the Father and son they thought they lost, but they’re not ready— they’re not prepared to bring it up. Not yet.

“Yeah, what of it?”

“He does this weird thing, watch.” Florida springs up, approaching the front door with sure, confident steps.

Before he can grab the door handle, another hand appears to pull the door open. A body blocking the entryway, but he hadn’t come in from outside, had simply stepped in the way.

Gov hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Where are you off to?” The man asks, raising a brow as he opens the door.

“Nowhere!” Florida grins, “Just wanted to go out!”

“Hm.” Gov studies him for a moment, scrutinizing. Florida can feel himself start to sweat, before the man turns away. “Alright, don’t cause any trouble.”

And the man’s gone, as if he was never there, leaving the door wide open.

Florida turns back to them all with a grin.

“See?”

“Has he always done that?” Montana asks with a furrowed brow.

“Come to think of it, I don’t think we’ve ever opened the front or back door.” Iowa reclines on a couch, staring up at the ceiling with his hands folded over his stomach. “Pa’s always shown up to open the doors, but only when we’re going out? He never opens it coming inside unless it’s a building other than the Statehouse? It’s kinda weird.”

“I think we’ve gotten used to it. I mean, I know I’ve started waiting for him to open other doors too.”

A few moments of contemplating silence.

“First to open the front or back door before Papi shows up wins.”

And that sealed it.

.1.

Florida, of course, was the first to try it. Multiple times in the span of several hours, in fact.

He’d reach for one door handle, wait for it to twist and wait for the Static to fill the air as Gov starts to teleport, before he bolts to the other side of the house to the other door.

It doesn’t work, and Gov looks more tired each time.

Gov snatches him up in the middle of one of his sprints, hand holding the back of the Southerner’s shirt to look him in the face.

Amber meets grey, and Florida grins- somewhat nervously- at the blank expression on the man's face.

“Stop that.” Is all the man says, lowering him to his feet, and patting his shoulder twice, “It’s late. Go to bed.”

Florida scurries off, feeling very much like the young Ian Jones who stayed up past bedtime.

That doesn’t mean he stops though.

.2.

Idaho and Iowa thought they’d be the ones to win, being two of the most often forgotten States.

Idaho had gone to the back door, and Iowa to the front. They were going to try and open them at the same time, or as close to the same time as possible.

When Iowa heard the back door swing open, he reached for the door handle— only for the front door to swing open from the outside, revealing Gov— Pops— with a disoriented Idaho held under his arm.

“You were both planning on tending the crops today.” The Statehouse properties are expansive , a lot of it used for things to keep the States entertained; such as farming or animal care. “They are next to each other, you do not need to leave out two separate doors.”

Iowa shuffles his feet as Idaho is straightened to stand on xir own once xe was put down.

Xir face flushed, “Papa!” Xe says, slightly whiny, “What was that for?!”

Gov merely raised a brow.

“Makes it easier,” he says, leaning to press the side of his head against Idaho’s hair— the younger personification squirming slightly— “Call if you need anything, Gem, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Xe mutters, squirming out of the smug man’s grasp and hauling Iowa out the door.

The Hawkeye State felt…jealous. That Noah could have what Caleb himself craved.

.3.

West Virginia and Nevada, Boe and Cassian, were quite the odd pair of friends; a retired coal miner and a ex-mobster-turned-showgirl.

But they were formed little more than a year apart, and stuck together through thick and thin.

Sure, their plan may involve Boe taking off his prosthetic leg– but, really, it was his idea.

Nevada sets the prosthetic against the porch rails before he trots back inside, shutting the door behind her. West Virginia leans against the back of the couch, and the Silver state nods. They lean against the front door carefully, not making any noise.

“Pops!” the man yells, and the air fills with static, a sign that the man’s listening, “Left mah leg out on the back porch earlier, mind grabbin’ it for me?”

It happened more often than one would think. He usually took the leg off later in the day, but it wasn’t unusual for him to take it off and leave it somewhere without thinking– someone always around to assist without a second thought in grabbing it or helping him get to it.

He’d forgotten to take it off last night, and that’s what birthed this plan. The need to let his nub breathe.

The static shifts to the back as Nevada carefully reaches to the front door handle…

It turns in his grasp, and the door opens behind her. They stumble back, their shoulders falling against the person behind them, who holds them up with one arm.

She looks back, spying his father looking at them both with a raised brow— Boe’s prosthetic leg in his hand.

Nevada smiles nervously, “Hi, daddy…”

“Hello, Cassi,” Gov returns the greeting as the Silver State shifts to stand back up. “Boe is still in the sitting room, yes?”

“‘M here, old man.”

“Good, then. Help me with him, Cassi?”

“Yeah— sure.”

Their father looks…tired. More so than usual as he helps strap the prosthetic back in place— Boe’s fond of the older models— patting the Mountain State’s shoulder as he heaves himself up.

“Please behave,” he sounds so tired, “and please remember to grab your leg before you leave it in the middle of a street.”

Boe snorts as his Pops strong hand ruffles his hair, and Cassian grins.

They’re fine with losing.

.4.

To be completely honest, Connecticut hadn’t wanted to be involved in it. He saw how tired Gov looked, and how he only seemed to grow more haggard as each day passed with several States trying to open the doors.

But he had been a pirate, once. Mischief and the want for chaos carved in his bones.

“Davie.” he whispers with a grin, leaning over his husband's desk chair. “Davie, let’s go open the door.”

“Henry…” Delaware plucks his glasses off his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You know it won’t work.”

“If it doesn't, we can get Johnny or someone to hold him still while we open it.” The Constitution State shrugs.

Delaware sighs again, “Fine.”

Connecticut gives a small ‘yesss’, hauling Delaware up and tugging him down the stairs.

There was no plan, they were banking on Gov being too busy with…anything. They were just going to try and open it, no special plans or strategies involved.

And, of course, it didn’t work.

The handle twists from their grip and a body shifts to block their path as the door opens outwards.

Once again, Gov blocks their way. He stares at them a moment, back straight despite how utterly exhausted he looks.

“Please…” his voice is quiet and gravely, and both Northeasterners cringe inwardly at the sound. “Please, stop trying to open the doors…”

“Gov,” Delaware's voice is careful, “When’s the last time you slept?”

The man twitched, “Last night.”

“Did you sleep…well?”

“No- no.” The man sways a bit, “Too focused. Ia— Florida tried to open the door fifteen times in the span of two hours.”

They notice the slip, it makes their chests ache, but they have something more important to worry about. They’re uncles, after all, and their stupid, self-sacrificing nephew needs to go to sleep.

“C’mon, buddy,” Connecticut comes up to the man's side, carefully closing the door with one hand, the other going across the man’s shoulders, “We gotta spare room you can have for the night. Davie’ll message Ro for ya.”

As the First State pulls out his phone, they guide Gov to one of the guest rooms. They watch him fall onto the bed with a slightly pained grunt, and watch as he near immediately passes out.

They look at each other once the door is shut.

“Intervention?”

“Intervention.”

They need to show Gov that nothing will happen if someone else opens the door.

And what better place to do that than at the Legislative building? Where security is tight and no one there will hurt any of them?

..5..

Gov’s has one office in Washington, DC. Much like their home in Pennsylvania, the door can open to any of the government buildings.

The office itself is lined with bookshelves that go up and up until you can’t see the top. A hand drawn map of every state and territory on the wall behind the grand, mahogany desk.

On either side of the desk were two archways, leading further and further into the maze of bookshelves that never seemed to end. The space was larger than it had any right to be, and stretched further than the buildings themselves seemed to. It was never the same when you looked back, the pathways always changing.

Only Gov and Assistant were allowed in the labyrinth unattended, as they were the only ones who could find their way out again without trouble. Anyone else had to accompany one of them, or they’d never return. There were things in there no one should see, and only the presence of one of the government personifications would keep those things away.

From the noises that sometimes echoed from within the bookshelves on occasion, not everyone heeded the warning.

But it was a familiar, safe space; perfect for them to intervene in Gov’s ridiculous habit of opening the doors of their own home.

Only three of them had shown up for this, they know that anymore and Gov would possibly grow defensive; just the three of them would be enough to make him suspicious.

Georgia and Maryland, there to hold him back, and Kentucky, the one to open the door.

They knock on the door to the office, always so obvious that it leads to Gov’s office with the aura it gives off and the ornate gold details on dark wood.

They don’t wait for a response, as usual, and simply shove the door open. Gov had always said his office is open whenever they need him, after all.

The man jolts in his seat, blinking at them as they enter.

“Hello,” he greets, body relaxing when he sees who it is, but he furrows his brow when he sees the serious look on Georgia’s face, “I wasn’t expecting you today, has something happened?”

“Nothin’s happened, hon.” Maryland says as he rounds the desk, Georgia coming around the other side, “Just wanted to visit ya for a bit.”

Gov purses his lips.

He’s suspicious.

Georgia settles his hands on the man’s shoulders from behind the chair as Maryland holds onto one of his arms.

Gov looks to Kentucky, who’s stayed resolutely by the door. He wants to reach out and call his son to his side— no, no. Not his son, they don’t want to be his children, they don’t want any relation to him. It’s why they only call him Gov.

He sees the southerners’ hand reach for the door handle, and he shifts to stand– he needs to get the door– but the hands on his shoulders go firm, and he finds he can’t move.

Panic grips his chest, as Kentucky turns the doorknob. Everything tunes out– the hands on his shoulders, the weight on his arm, the voices of Georgia and Maryland trying to soothe him. All he can hear, all he can sense, is the presence of a loaded gun behind the door–

He pulls himself out of their grip, faster than they can stop him, the jerking motion pulling his shoulder– and the metal that holds it– out of place. He grits his teeth at the feeling, tugging Kentucky out of the way as the door falls open–

BANG!

The bullet strikes him in his dislocated shoulder, and he grimaces silently, staring the politician, who now eyes the States behind him with fear.

He never often cared if they shot him, it’s been happening for centuries– less so now than in the age of dueling, but humans rarely change– but they never got away with it when any of his States were present.

He moves to do what he always does, close the door and handle it– but there’s a pair of hands on his arm, another body coming around to his front as a third tears into the hallway with a loud bellow– like a bear mauling those foolish to get too close to its cubs.

“Sit down– sit down.” Maryland hisses as Kentucky flutters next to them.

In this office, Gov has several loveseats and armchairs in front of his desk, and he soon gets pushed into one. He grunts at the jostling in his arm, confused for a moment, before he waves their hands off.

“Drawer– bottom left.” he mutters, “Gotta medkit in there.”

Maryland freezes for a moment, but Kentucky scurries off to grab the kit as told.

“I’m sorry, hon,” Maryland says, too sweetly, as Georgia hauls the bloodied politician into the office and chucks them a few ways down into the labyrinth. “Did you just say, ‘I have a medkit for things like this’? As in, this is a normal occurrence.”

Gov can feel Georgia glowering from behind him as he shifts, preparing to pop his arm back in its socket.

“Ignore that.” Gov says as Kentucky props the medkit open at his side, “Eli– Kentucky,” the man says, muttering under his breath, “Nein, nein. Kentucky, get the tweezers ready, alright?”

“Put your hands down.” Maryland shoves the younger entity’s hands to his sides, “You stay focused on telling me why you’re acting as if this is normal! Elias, Eli! Put those down and go get your Gigi and your Grandad. Now!”

The younger State pops away, and Georgia immediately takes his place.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Gov tries to shift away from their hands, “I’ll call Robin and it’ll be fine. It’s not the first, nor the last time, a politician has shot me.”

“Gonna need you to explain that, boy.” Georgia rumbles angrily, “You should be gettin’ shot never, preferably.”

“It happens,” he keeps trying to brush them away, barely grimacing when Georgia’s hands pop his shoulder and the metal plates back into place, “They can’t shoot each other, so they shoot me. They’re always behind the door waiting for me to open it, but it’s not every time.” he chokes on his breath when Maryland checks the wound, digging out the bullet with the tweezers, “Nearly shot Daniel once– just started opening the doors. Rather be me than the kids.”

“Jesus,” another voice speaks up, a new set of hands lifting his face to meet theirs. Pennsylvania, “Fuck, kid–”

“He says this is normal!” Maryland hisses as his suit coat is removed by Virginia, “He says it’s been happening for centuries!”

His sweater is pulled up over his shoulder so the bullet hole can be cleaned and wrapped.

Gov feels four sets of protective, furious eyes on himself, and he’s even more confused.

“It’s fine,” he assures, exasperated, “I’ve been shot far worse than this over things so minor I wasn’t even informed of it. At least I know this time it was over a legal dispute.”

He tugs his sweater back down over his arm, but leaves the suit coat off for the time being.

“They shoot you over things that don’t EVEN CONCERN YOU?!” Virginia near shrieks, and Gov flinches at the sound, “Why are we just now learning this information?!”

“It’s not important,” Gov stresses, but they just don’t seem to understand, “It has not and has never been important. It’s just something that happens.” he shoves himself up off the couch and past Pennsylvania, nearly stumbling– he’s so tired. “Thank you for your help, but it is incredibly unnecessary to take on such a chore–”

He’s tugged back by a hand on the back of his shirt, a snarl building up behind him.

“A chore?” An enraged voice asks as he’s pushed back into his seat, the four of them glaring at him, “You think patching up our son, after he’s been shot, is a chore?”

There’s a sudden tugging on his ear, and he flinches at the feeling.

“Young man, if you ain’t have metal in yer spine and just got a bullet put in ya, you’d’ve just earned yerself a whoopin’!” Virginia snaps, their thumb and index finger holding firm on the man’s ear for a moment before they let go, hands going to their hips.

The brunette rubs away the stinging feeling, grimacing as he glares straight back at them.

“I said it’s fine, how many times do I have to repeat that?” He snaps in response, baring his teeth in a snarl. “None of you are listening.”

“We ain’t gonna listen when you tell us gettin’ shot is fine.” Georgia growls.

“Because it is fine, when it’s me.” he goes to stand back, “Let me go, I have work to finish–”

“Adam Jones, if you take even one step close to that desk, yer age won’t stop me from dragging you down to the southern house.” Pennsylvania barks, crossing his arms as he speaks, “See if you can ‘get back to work’ after I kick yer ass.”

Gov freezes in place the moment he started speaking. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak– just stares straight ahead.

He stands there for so long that the anger starts to fade, replaced by a growing concern as the man doesn’t even twitch.

Georgia is the first one to step around to look at the man’s face, orange-brown eyes going wide when he sees the wetness in Gov’s grey ones.

“Oh, kiddo.” The large man brings the other close to him, pressing his face to Gov’s hair and letting the other hide in his windbreaker as the other three crowd around them, a flurry of concerned movement as Georgia feels a wet spot growing on his shirt. “What’s wrong, Adam?”

Gov’s shoulders are hitching, he doesn’t appear to be breathing properly, Georgia runs a hand through his hair in hopes to calm him down enough to get him to speak.

“You called me Adam…” the man says in heaving breaths, “You called me son.”

And suddenly, it made sense.

They haven’t called him either since 1814.

“Oh, baby…” Maryland runs his own hand across Gov’s shoulders, “It’s okay, hon, it’s okay…”

“You didn’t want me as your son–”

“No, no.” Virginia soothes, “You’ve always been our son, sweetie, it’s okay.”

“You left–”

“And it was the worst mistake we’ve ever made.” Pennsylvania snarls quietly from where he leans on Georgia’s arm, “And we’re so, so fucking sorry, kiddo.”

“My kids—”

“Miss you so much.” Georgia rasps, “They want nothing more than for their papa to come back.”

Gov makes a strangled sound, before he goes completely silent.

“Kiddo?” Pennsylvania whispers, “What’s up?”

“Please,” is the only response, “...just stop trying to open the doors… I can’t sleep with them always trying to…”

“Okay, okay.” Georgia kisses the top of his head, “We’ll stop, we’ll stop the kids too. Don’t worry buddy.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Virginia hums, “Just rest now, baby.”

Gov mumbles something, in response, before he goes limp with exhaustion.

The four of them look at each other over the top of his head.

They had to talk to the other States.

They’re both gorgeous!! WV looks very Man, though he doesn’t look too happy with Mothman despite the yearly festival 😭

We have a Mothman statue in Point Pleasant, if that’d help, yours is cuter though ☺️

West Virginia design 😈 dumb loser boy is just a sketch for now so I can just practice before I do a full piece ☝️ I think about fits, sometimes. He has huge thunder dome like me because mothman told me he too had one. Truth be told, I have no idea what mothman allegedly looks like so i just winged it (no pun intended) and i also never seen a clip of West either

Ohio would die and try to take everyone with him- and take a good amount of them lmao.

Tell me which states y’all think would survive the Hunger Games and not get speared like a kabob like Rue did

Look mate I have been STUCK on WV/John Deere because of some image I found here awhile back…

But it’s up to you, in the end, don’t gotta listen to me 🩵

Awoop

Made

A samn whoopsie daisies

FUCK

Anyways

M Poly is Maryland, Mississippi, and Massachusetts

The Idaho, Ohio, Iowa is from younger me mashing all three names together

I MADE A DAMN ACCIDENT IN THE POLE AND SOMETHING WAS N O T INTENDED TO BE THERE

The _____/somebody please put the suggested somebody in the comments/reblogs

Hello!

Saw that you also crave the art 👁️👁️.

May I request art of my humble boy, the Jack Hoffman of States, West Virginia?

Idk what about him kept screaming ginger but it did soo

also MOTH MAN

Hi!! Soo I’ve seen a whole lot on New Jersey headcannons and a lot of them were about him having Tourettes Syndrom and I was wondering if you had similar headcannons or not

If you don’t then I would want to hear any other disabilityes any other states could have

Hello Lovely Anon!

Currently, I don’t have many disability headcanons— as most of them have not yet possessed me to inform me of their physical forms.

However, I do have a few!!

For Jersey and Tourettes, I haven’t decided yet. If I do decide he has Tourettes, I want to be able to write them well. So, for now, that is a no.

The most well-known in my AU is probably Adam— with his shitty back and horrid immune system.

I am absolutely sure Veteran’s Affairs, known as Matthew, is half blind and deaf— in his left ear and eye.

Ivan, my Alaska, has TERRIBLE direction skills due to how many people go missing in his State. Idk if that counts as a disability, but he does need Guide Dogs or for someone to hold onto him. It affects him daily.

Boe, my WV, has a prosthetic left leg. He lost it in a mining accident back in the 60’s.

Connecticut— known as Henry— is blind in his right eye. He got the injury during his pirate days.

These are the ones I’m currently aware of, but I’m sure there will be more as I design each State! :D

I love him 🥹🥹 he looks so huggable. He is the Best Virginia :D we have pepperoni rolls and the other guys don’t 😌

I love his moth-antenna hat!!!

Hello 👋👋👋

Would you be able to draw my boy, West Virginia?

If not, that’s fine! Your artstyle looks so huggable (if that makes sense) btw

Sorry it took a while, I’ve been busy :,)

I award best Virginia to the baby boy :)

I <3 him so much

(I struggle to draw my guy so much it’s terrible)

hi!! I was wondering if there was any random headcannons you had about either states or Adam and Robin

I have a few off the top of my head :D

__________________________________

-- Adam and Robin are both Very Asexual, and only attracted to each other. Trying to be a Homewrecker with these two will end horribly.

-- Greg is an undead. As a human child, he met Adam and Robin a few times. When he died in a horrific accident as a young preteen, they brought him back and adopted him.

-- Greg is mute!

-- Boe (WV) has a pet rosy maple moth named Rosie

-- Boe is Best Friends with all the WV cryptids.

-- Boe is dating John Deere! Boe is the Jack Hoffmen of States and I will die on this hill.

-- Ivan and Gabriel (Alaska and Texas) are really nice guys, and kinda shy, but they have epic mean faces and can make themselves appear very intimidating.

-- John (Georgia), despite being Gabriel’s height, is too nice and Teddy Bear to intimidate people unless he’s angry. Then people remember that a Teddy Bear is still a bear.

-- Ivan and Gabriel learned to be scary from Adam. Man is Dad To The Max, but he is still the Personification of the United States, and he can be terrifying when he wants to be.

-- Adam and Robin make all their kids stuffed animals, with the animals name sewn on one of the limbs

-- Ian (Florida) and Robin have a running tally of who had football-tackled more police officers. It’s currently a tie.

-- Adam has met Santa Claus.

-- Countries being on good terms does not mean the Personifications are! Several Government and Assistant Personifications are not allowed to be in the same room as Adam or Robin, it’s attack on sight.

-- Adam and Robin can replace people they erase! I implied it in ‘Must Be Mistaken’

-- Robin eats people. It’s not cannibalism, since she’s not human, but she does eat people. Adam too, but only sometimes.

-- The basement of the Jones Residence, where only Adam and Robin are allowed to enter, is full of trophies from people and personifications they’ve killed. The walls look like the French catacombs with all the skulls.

-- Adam and Robin also engage in human experimentation from time to time! Remember the chimeras from Full Metal Alchemist? That type of stuff. They only do it to bad people, and they also just don’t care. The only humans Adam and Robin care about are their family members.

-- If Adam and Robin ever die, they can never be reformed. Getting the exact same fragment from Eternity or Infinity is impossible. Other personifications can reform as the same people, Governments can not.

-- Robin represents in small parts of the Government; the interns, cubicle workers, receptionists, all the little pieces that make everything run. Adam is the big pieces; the President, the Senate, the HoR.

-- Adam’s immune system is trash and it has always been trash 👍 that will never change.

-- The OG’s had to teach Adam and Robin how to act human, blinking, chewing, breathing and all.

-- No one knows that Adam and Robin are fragments. Only other Fragments know. All the Politicians know is that they’re terrifying and Will Eat Them.

-- Adam and Robin are petty as hell and have a ‘Petty Schedule’ to determine who messes with which politician this time. This is reserved for the people who annoy them, but they aren’t annoyed enough to hurt them.

-- Adam has been torn in half by a cannonball before. He has also been shot, stabbed, blown up, burned, and I’m sure there are other things he has yet to talk about. Only Robin knows about most of these.

-- Adam and Robin can regrow limbs! If they break a bone, and manage to get away for a few hours, they’ll just cut it off and let it grow back good as new.

-- Adam and Robin can either have no organs or too many of one specific organ. Or whatever they think is funnier at the time.

-- In Verse, ‘The Thing’ is based on a witness that saw Robin eat someone. She looked freaky as hell and had the time of her life.

-- Adam and Robin have multiple forms, which I have talked about already in a previous post.

-- Adam and Robin are so in love it gives me a toothache

Maybe my wifeeeeeee (west Virginia)

West Virginia, the better Virginia

I actually have two designs for West Virginia. But I’ll just draw one here. The other one just looks like Ben, so it’s more of a work in progress.

Feeling like her hands are always dirty and covered with coal. Even if she hasn’t touched it. She will leave fingerprints.

Like, Look at this idiot

Squishes