What is this I don't even...! I was playing with wikipedia and late last night out of boredom. This is the result of... my research. Thank you, as always, to StarlightSteel, for beta of this.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. In a way I do own Rosa and Remy.
Micronations were more common than people seemed to think. Although only a handful throughout history were platforms, but Sealand was the only survivor of all of them.
The blond English boy remembered those two in the past rather distinctly. There was REM Island and The Republic of Rose Island. REM Island was a Dutch boy and Rose Island was Italian. Sealand remembered. REM and Rose had so briefly met; Rose had existed barely a year.
Why Sealand was reminiscing over the two short-lived micros he couldn't be sure. Perhaps because it was summer; summer made him think of them both.
"Hey, Sealand," REM Island greeted with a pleasant smile. Sealand had always liked REM, or Remmy, as the guy had been dubbed. Remmy was short with freckles and a lot of red hair. Of course, REM Island was related to him in a way. REM had been built in Ireland and then towed to the sea off of The Netherlands to broadcast radio.
"REM! Hi!" Sealand greeted. He hadn't seen the other in months, since the last world meeting. The two had been allowed at this meeting because they had been told there was someone there relevant to them.
The pair went walking into the building, chatting and having ditched the people they came with (Latvia for Sealand and Netherlands and Belgium for REM Island). And then they noticed a small group of nations, their bodies hiding someone.
The two micronations crept closer and peered around the full-heighted nations' legs.
The two spotted a girl who looked physically their age, with lots of dark auburn hair and caramel colored eyes. She was smiling in a slightly confused manner, standing rather close to the Italy brothers. So of course Sealand marched forward, REM Island slinking after him.
"Hi! My name's Sealand, but you can call me Peter. And this is REM Island, but he likes being called Remmy," Sealand introduced with a self-assured expression.
The auburn girl smiled hesitantly. "I'm The Republic of Rose Island. But you can call me Rosa, She introduced herself in an oddly accented voice.
"What language do you speak?" REM blurted out. "I mean, I've never heard it before and you look Italian but that's not an Italian accent." He continued quickly.
"Esperanto. It's an auxiliary language. Ya know, for people with no common native language," She mumbled, her face slightly red.
And that was how Sealand and REM Island's duo of platform micros became a trio.
But their happiness was short-lived. A lot of time was spent visiting Rose Island on the Mediterranean. But one day the spring right after they had met her, they were planning to go see her once more. They were on the boat, headed out to the platform when North Italy seemed to just suddenly be there (he had boarded from another boat). He was trying to get them to turn back.
"Why?" REM had huffed with narrowed eyes. And poor Italy, who they noted was crying, pointed to Rose Island. All of Rose Island's people were in ships, leaving. And yet there she stood, near her post office, staring out to the sea. It was an eerie sight: the platforms deserted with the lone preteen stood there, auburn hair and pale pink sundress whipping around her from the wind.
"Rosa, are you positive you're not coming?" one of her former inhabitants yelled.
"I'm sorry. But I can't. Without my island I'm nothing. So I'll go down with it." Despite her strong words, tears streamed down her face and her cheeks took on a hue similar to that of her namesake. The small girl locked eyes with a stupefied Sealand and REM Island.
How could she be so strong about it? Neither understood. They watched in horror as the Italian navy rigged explosives to the pylons supporting her platform.
"Goodbye, Sealand. Goodbye, REM. I hope I don't see either of you anytime soon. And fratellos, I don't blame you!" She called into the wind, locking eyes first with the other micronations, then North Italy, then South, who stood on a naval ship looking upset in his own way. And then, since all boats were out of range, the bombs were detonated. And with that The Republic of Rose Island sunk into the sea.
Sealand shifted uncomfortably in the plush armchair he was curled up in, unaware that he was crying. That memory was painful. Rose Island had been a kindred spirit to him. He remembered sulking for weeks after that, avoiding REM and even Latvia and just moping about his own home. In fact, Sealand remembered making himself a blanket nest in one of the old magazines, gun and ammo storage areas that were at the bases of the concrete structures holding up his own platform.
But he got over it. But then, well, just recently he'd lost REM Island.
He and REM stuck together for four decades. Through the loss of Rose Island and Sealand's fire and subsequent need of financial aid and every other disaster that befell them.
But then REM was put up for sale in 2004. This scared both of them, because it made them realize they could be sold. They weren't actual nations yet. They were large ocean structures and could be sold like any real estate.
REM had spent so many days at Sealand's, fretting and worrying and practically yanking out his coppery hair.
And then Sealand lost him in 2006. No one had purchased REM. So a final radiocast, for REM Island had always been a broadcasting station, was sent out. And the day after Remmy's platform was removed and towed away to go to scrap. And explosives were rigged to the remaining structure.
Sealand remembered the cool determination on his friend's face as the Dutch boy sat on the top of a pylon, as though imitating Rosa's long ago actions.
"Goodbye, Sealand. I'll give Rosa your regards," Remmy had called over the crash of waves as a storm picked up. And then REM Island was gone as well.
Sealand felt grateful to his friends in a way. He had learned from them ways to keep himself alive. Although now he was for sale and it worried the sailor boy to no end. If he wasn't sold, would Prince Michael have him rigged with detonators like the others? Or would he just be left to rot?
Shivering at the scary thoughts, Sealand leapt up from his armchair and began the long trek from his room to the main deck. Death was a possibility for him, sure. But he wouldn't go down without a fight. He owed that much to Rosa and Remmy.
REM Island- The island that was built in Ireland was set six miles off Noordwijk, The Netherlands and kept in place with cement. Radio and TV Nordzee was an illegal, or pirate, station broadcasted from the artifical island. REM stood for Reclame Exploitatie Maatschappij, in English that being advertising exploitation company. The company was going to broadcast commercial television and radio. Dutch law didn't authorize this, but REM Island was outside their jurisdiction. In December of 1964 a law was passed that the sea bed on which REM Island rested was Dutch land and a raid was performed. A year later the broadcasters began legal transmissions from REM Island. After that REM Island was used for temperature and salt tests of the waters. In 2004 it went up for sale and after no purchase for two years, the platform was removed and the base destroyed.
The Republic of Rose Island- A man-made paltform in the Adriatic sea, 7 miles off the coast of Rimini, Italy. The platform contained a bar, a nightclub, a restaurant, a souveneir shop, and a post office. The platforms builder was self-declared President. The 'island' was viewed as a ploy to make money off of tourists without being taxed. So the Italian Navy used explosives to destroy the fake island. This was later depicted by the former government on a series of stamps.
There! That's all I know on these two micros. Please drop a review and let me know if you enjoyed this.