S: I don't own Tower Prep or Hetalia Axis Powers.
DUDE I THINK THIS IS THE FIRST TOWER PREP CROSSOVER EVER. :D
This idea just came up as I was watching the latest episode of Tower Prep (the one with the Rooks). That made me think of Whisper as a rook (see the third paragraph). That inspired me with the prompt: how does Tower Prep stay hidden? Of course, I have a Hetalia mentality, so I thought, Tower Prep would have to be its own 'country' of sorts that the other countries either didn't know about, or ignored because she was, in their eyes, 'evil' or 'different'. Add the fact that Tower Prep would have to be able to have some sort of control over the other countries in order to get files and everything. So I took that, and said that Whisper was the country's human name, because she ran everything.
Now Enjoy~
She walks through the halls like a ghost; her red eyes are dull, as though she has never slept at all. She looks like a female version of the man that goes by the name of Gilbert Beilschmidt, but her desolate aura is nowhere near identical to his egotistical attitude.
Nobody notices her. They know she's there, but they ignore her. She doesn't exist, in their eyes.
In truth, she is a raven to them, a rook. She steals who she deems acceptable, and makes them her own. Nobody knows who she is, where she is. Not even her own citizens.
There is nothing about the girl in any book in the world, in the known world. There are no records about her students in other nations either, or faculty. It is as though each one of her people had vanished off the face of the Earth. They are nobody. Even their parents and best friends, if they had any in their former life, do not know who they are anymore.
Even more invisible than the one named Matthew Williams, she strays through the lands, waiting for orders from her master. She knows the only rule he has for her: do not interfere.
She follows without question, and on the very rare occasion that she wants to tell somebody, anybody, to make him stop, she tugs on the shock collar around her neck to remind herself.
Her orders come that day as she walks through the halls of the building, being ignored by the tall, effeminate man she walks next to.
"I have another assignment."
"Yes sir." Her voice is slightly deeper than her physical looks portray, but it is still beautiful in its own, mesmerizing way.
She keeps walking, out the building, across several streets, never stopping until her orders are fulfilled.
America has a new president. He does not know of this girl, or what her intentions are, not that anybody does. He just knows that she is important if the guards let her in without even stopping her. "Yes ma'am?" he asks as she stops in front of his desk. She must be like his charge, the young blonde by the name of Alfred F. Jones.
"I ask for all records of a boy by the name of Ian Archer. They are to be erased immediately after they are sent to me." The president does as he is told. Not because he wants to, but because he is forced to by her persuasion. Her hyper-suasion.
"Yes ma'am." He finishes giving out the orders, and she releases her hold on him. As she turns to leave, Mr. President calls out to her. "Can I at least have your name, Ms...?"
She looks down at the ground instead of at the president. "Call me Whisper."