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Hetalia

There are many vague estimations as to when the first people appeared. 

Some explain it through science, gingerly stepping backwards in time by means of examining the remains of creatures that they themselves will never see as they once were; Breathing, striding, living. Artists vehemently work on countless colourless canvases, striving to piece together these beings whose faces look oh-so-familiar to those they see reflected in mirrors and windows on a daily basis.

Then there are those who believe a divine being is allowing life to blossom across the world, creating wonders such as the stars and galaxies just as the artists scatter colours onto their works. Why do humans exist? What put them there? They don't need evidence to prove anything; They must simply believe and keep their faith. 

She herself can't think of when humans first appeared or where. Though on occasion countries stake prideful claims of their people being the oldest of all, but no one truly knows. Their memories become laden with a thick blanket of fog whenever they dare dive that far, tossing them into confusion; It doesn't take long before they learn to give up.

In terms of later history however, her area of expertise is her home. She knows it as well as someone would know their everyday trek to work, and better than anyone else ever to exist. Her impeccable memory leaving out nothing of the events that shaped the future of the land, painful or joyous. 

There have been plenty of moments in the past that have warmed her thrumming heart, or have brought a smile to her pale face. Days, weeks, months or even years that have soared by as happily as a caged bird let free. These were times when hope was revived, and lives were saved. Times when she danced with people she's never even talked to, yet treated her as an old friend. 

Which, in many ways, she was. 

Then there were small sections of time that incessantly lazed across a much longer span than they should have. Those were instances of fear, of uncertainty, of dreadful sadness and icy anger. Humans, she acknowledged, seemed to be drawn to times like these, and the biggest of these times were labelled as 'wars' or 'massacres'. 

Rebellions also dominate a large part of her memories. Civilians-turned-soldiers march up cobbled streets, some aware that they potentially could be walking to their doom, others not so much. She's not sure whether to feel proud or worried when she sees them gather as one force united against a foe whose experience in fighting trumps theirs several times over. Before initiating their attack, they would often cry her name, or perhaps do something in her honour. 

She's the reason they are fighting. They're fighting for her. 

And she would fight with them. If not to save their lives, then to make sure their deaths were not wasted. It was her might against others of her kind; Of course she would be fated to lose on occasion, but at least it was her falling in the place of another family member.

Numerous times she's the muse to poets and authors, and sometimes she even sees herself depicted in beautiful illustrations. They never quite get every detail right, but she doesn't blame them; To them, she's only figure of legend. No matter how many times she is seen, she is defined as mythical. She looks just like them, yet they don't accept her as one of their own. Her name and her physical appearance seem to be two completely irrelevant things in their minds. 

As far as they are concerned, Ireland is a country, not a person.
Eh, a little something to sort of commemorate the 1916 Easter Rising, which was exactly 100 years ago today. I wish it didn't suck so much, but my writing muse has decided to take a prolonged holiday.
Now is the kind of moment that makes me wish I had drawing skills though, because my drawing muse is going nuts. I've been doodling all day.

I actually do have two Ireland OCs hidden away on my computer, but they are in need of... For lack of better word, improvement. My biased views have rubbed off on them a little too much, and they're beginning to sound a little like I do. Whoops.

Anyway, for those of you who don't know and are curious, the 1916 Rising was basically what sparked off Ireland's fight for independence from the United Kingdom. The main events were centred in Dublin and were originally frowned upon by the people of Dublin, and other parts of Ireland made moves too.

The basic lead up/events:
Bullet; Red September 1914: The British decided to put the Home Rule Bill on hold in order to focus on WWI.
Bullet; Orange September 1915: John Redmond of the Irish Volunteers encourages Irishmen to join the British army in hopes of securing the Home Rule Bill.
Bullet; Yellow On the other hand, the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB) say "England's struggle is Ireland's opportunity" and promote rebellion.
Bullet; Green Though a substantial number of Irishmen do join the British forces, a smaller force made up of volunteers from the Irish Citizen Army and the Irish Volunteers gathered to rebel.
Bullet; Blue After a failed attempt conducted by Sir Roger Casement to import arms from Germany into Kerry, Eoin MacNeill, leader of the Irish Volunteers, orders them not to participate in the rebellion mere days before it is supposed to start.
Bullet; Purple Most do stand down, creating havoc for the remaining rebels. Despite this, no plans are altered.
Bullet; Pink On Monday 24th April 1916, Pádraig Pearse reads out the Proclamation in front of the General Post Office in Dublin.
Bullet; Red Meanwhile, other squadrons take over St Stephen's Green, the Four Courts, the South Dublin Union (now St James' Hospital), Jameson Distillery, Jacob's Factory, Boland's Mills and Bakery, 25 Northumberland Road, Clanwilliam House and the Mendicity Institute.
Bullet; Orange The British are caught by surprise, but reinforcements arrive on the 25th.
Bullet; Yellow The rebellion lasts a total of 6 days before the rebels surrender. Approximately 1,350 people are dead or injured, and 3,509 are arrested by British forces. (3,430 men, 79 women)
Bullet; Green Fifteen of the Rising's leaders are executed, including all seven signatories of the Proclamation.
Bullet; Blue The Irish are in shock upon hearing of their executions, and due to their outcry, the remaining few leaders are spared.

(Not all of the details have been included above. A pretty good timeline to the Rising can be found here.)

Some people might mistake 1916 to be the time that Northern Ireland emerged, Ireland won its independence, the Civil War started etc. In fact, Ireland wasn't independent until around 5 years later, and that was when the six counties of Northern Ireland became a seperate entity from the newborn Irish Free State. The Civil War took place the following year.

Hopefully you're a little more informed now~

Anyway, this piece of crappy literature belongs to me.
Hetalia (though Ireland has no official design yet) belongs to Mr Hidekaz Himaruya.

Thanks for reading!
© 2016 - 2024 QuietlyWriting
Comments6
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SONIXA's avatar
I've read it just now, and I really REALLY like it! :heart:
I like the part "These were times when hope was revived, and lives were saved. Times when she danced with people she's never even talked to, yet treated her as an old friend.", also because it really reminds me of my own OC :D
I also like the sentence "She's not sure whether to feel proud or worried when she sees them gather as one force united against a foe whose experience in fighting trumps theirs several times over.", I think that would be so true! Ireland would have been so hard-fought between pride and fear!
Plus, it can refer to any kind of conflict, not just the Easter Rising, and that's great!
I'd love to be able to write something as well but I don't really have any inspiration!
Also, good summary of the events :)
:flagofireland: