(Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia, nor the characters of hetalia. Those belong to Hidekaz Himaruya and the hetalia project. I do however own the plot of this story, so no stealing. Leave comments if you want more chapters! There will be ships in later chapters~ enjoy!))
The sky went on, bleak and gray. A strong breeze blew clouds across the expanses of horizon, providing enough cover for a small airship to sneak through. The ship was metallic, and had large steam powered engines to keep it afloat.
Its sails harnessed windpower, and on a stormy day such as that one it was rather easy to do so. As the ship glided along, it was pursued by a much larger ship that bore a red gear insignia on the side. The smaller ship sped up above the larger
/vessel, undetected due to such heavycloud cover that evening.
With escape in sight, the small ship made a beeline to a nearby floating island. The name on the side of the island bore an insigniaof a flame, and was piled high with mountains of trash. The trash was walled in with metallic
fences, and it looked asthough it had notbeen touched in years. However, the small ship landed inside the walls, and was pressed against the barsso as not to be veryvisible.
A shout echoed from inside the ship, and an exciteable crew began to pour from belowdecks. They were a rather ragtag group, ranging from a rather tall and happy looking fellow covered in blood to a thin blonde girl with a scowl on her
face. They all waited on deckbefore a shorter man in a fearsome skeleton mask stepped out and hostered his gun.
"You're free to go. We're safe for now, nice going guys." The man announced, seeming to be the captain. He turned and went back into the belly of the ship, while his medium sized crew departed andwent theirseparate ways...
all except for thetall man coveredin blood.
"Captain, may I have a word?" He called, attempting to follow after the other man.
The captain spun around, sighing quietly. "Ja, Ivan? No need to call me captain, you know full well that you are second in command."
"Alright... Tino. Well I was wondering if I could go on a solo mission. Ihave a bone to pick with one of the RAF scouts." Ivan said, staring down at his hands. He cracked his knuckles, then looked down to his captain for an answer.
Tino thought about it for a moment, pulling off his mask to reveal a strangely cute face framed by platinum blond locks. He looked up at Ivan, violet eyes narrowed as he scrutinized his expression. After a moment, he seemed to come
to a decision and nodded.
"You may take one of the smaller ships. Be back in two days time." He responded, giving his second in command a dismissive wave.
"Thank you. It won't take long, I just can't stand the stupid smile on his face when he knocked me to the ground the other day." Ivan muttered, starting back out of the ship. "He'll pay for thinking he can mess with me."
Tino chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he went down the hall and turned left into his cabin. He was used to Ivan requesting to go 'dispose' of certain RAF pilots or scouts that got on his nerves. Ivan always completed his
missions in good time,withnearly aone hundred percent success rate. Tino trusted the other man with his life, that's why he had chosen him years ago to be second in command of his crew of air pirates.
Being an air pirate was a risky line of business, and not for the faint of heart. Tino had seen more than one friend die in battle, or by an air accident. Yet he couldn't bring himself to choose a new way of life. He loved pirating...
the thrill ofchasing down cargo vessels, running from the Royal Air Force or RAF, and selling his stolen goods on the black market.
Due to having never been captured, Tino had earned himself quite a reputation with the RAF and anyone looking to sail the skies. He was merciless, and precise in all ventures and the price for his capture was the highest of all air
pirates. His nicknamewas whisperedby fearful merchants and in the bedtime stories mothers told, to make their children wary of the skies:
The Red Phantom.
The legends had it that whenever the sun rose or set, one had the chanceto see hisship flying beside the sun. If one was lucky enough to see that, then the next day the sunrise would be a bright red tomatch the blood
of all that had fallento the Red Phantom's gun.
But that was merely a legend, which Tino had actually laughed at many a time. He didn't mind the fear his nickname put into the hearts of merchants, but he believed the story to be a bit far-fetched. There was no denying, however, the
origins of the urban legend were true. The great battle between the air pirates and the RAF many years prior, had given Tino his nickname. His fighting skills had been the stuff of myth, and as soon as he had spilled enough blood he had taken off
/with his crewinto theclouds... just like that.
Tino sat on his bed, staring at the intricate clock on his wall. The time was 12:25 AM, and he had yet to ready himself for sleep. His mind raced, as he fidgeted with the skeleton mask in his hands. He had bought it off his favorite
craftsman and friendEduard, who workedin theunderground black market. The two had been friends since a young age, yet never had Eduard wished to join Tino's crew.
'It's too dangerous... I want to live longer than all those pirates that get executed by the Queen.' Tino recalled Eduard had said, when he offered that he become his second in command.
"Too dangerous..." Tino mumbled, before hanging his mask on a hook by his bed. He slipped out of his heavy coat, and unbuttoned his shirt and trousers. With all of the garments removed, he slipped beneath the covers of his bed and shut
his eyes. Sleep did not comeeasily.