The countries have been locked inside jail cells. A government siege outbreaks citizens go into uproar for various political reasons. Our beloved nations have been captured and locked up during this global revolution by their own militias, however when they are all thrown into the same prison, they realize that all of the nations have been locked up. Every last one of them. A collection of the countries experiences (and escepades) in "prison".
The Axis watched the Allies as they passed by, pushed along by armed civilian militia, only soon to follow in wake of their fellow nations. From behind, a certain Italian could be heard cursing at the guard, in the front a British accent doing the same. The axis themselves however, moved along quietly, Italy's sniffles as tears formed in his hazel eyes the only sound coming from the trio.
As each nation was chained into their cell, it certainly didn't take much time to realize they weren't alone. The cell doors creaked as they swung on their hinges before clanging shut.
ROMANO
Romano dragged his feet as he swore unmercifully. Though at first he had been coming up with rather clever remarks and comebacks, he had eventually devolved down to listing every swear in every language he knew. Though really, he was limited in the fact he only knew English and Italian. The soles of his boots grinded against the floor as he stopped moving his legs all together, limp as he was dragged down the narrow stone hallway.
A sharp laugh came from behind the brunette, turning his head, he saw Prussia and Spain one of which concealing their laughter while the other's narrowed mahogany eyes seemed to be mocking him along with his harsh cackles. Romano immediately regained poise and stood up straight, marching along the corridor. This only crescendoed the cackling laughter of the behind German until Romano heard the sharp smack of skin, smirking as he glanced behind him, a red mark on the silverette's cheek and a guard re-gloving his hand greeting his eyes.
"You dare hit me? Awesome me? You'll pay! Kesesese..." Similar miniature rants could be heard during the trek through the intertwining halls, Romano winced as his brother was thrown into a cell ahead of him, the fragile brunette shoved into the hole in the wall, bars shutting him inside.
"Fratello..." He muttered under his breath, eyes trying to break the slightly taller Italian's gaze. A few doors down, he found himself under similar circumstances.
The guard's rough gripped threw him into the cell, stumbling as he tried to catch himself. A cold iron cuff latched around his wrists, his knees kicked in the back, forcing him into a seated position on the stone floor. He glared at the passing nations, Spain giving him an apologetic look before being dragged along with a tug on his arm. He groaned and started to examine his surroundings. Stone walls, stone floors, everything was stone aside the cast iron bars that locked him in the cell. His eyes flicked around the small confinement, hazel glinting in the soft light let in from the outside hallway, the occasional guard making rounds its only occupant. He soon found his eyes laying themselves on a pair of scuffed up dress shoes, white pants cut off in shadow, the narrow rectangle of light not touching the other any further. As Romano strained his ears, he could hear soft and peaceful breathing, the person whom he was to share the cell with fast asleep.
"Salve? Who are you?" He rasped the words to the sleeping one and watched as they stirred. A loud yawn came from across the cell.
"What...? Is it time for food yet? Anything will do really..." A tired yet unmistakably Italian voice came from the man, a clinking of chains indicating a stretch. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the figure, who moved a little further into the light. Romano was a little surprised to see a glint of blonde hair shine in the darkness, being that it was typically quite rare for those of his homeland to bear such a trait. As the man came into the light, Romano was taken aback. The man wore a white designer suit, a fuchsia scarf, and shades to match. It was more likely then not that he dyed it, not to mention the outfit reminded him of a pimp.
The light hazel eyes of the other that were quite similar to his own squinted as he yawned, the man appearing tired.
"What'd you get in here for? Trafficking?" The brunette scoffed, the blonde however responding seriously.
"Hm? Oh of course not. I work solo." Romano stared at the man, unsure as to what he should think of him. What was going on? The man stood and stretched again, however there was no sound of the shackles to follow. The dress shoes kicked the chains at his feet aside and sauntered over, plopping himself down next to Romano. The rather tackily dressed man yawned and glanced at him over the sunglasses.
"Has anyone ever told you that you look really gay?" The blonde pouted, lips pursed together.
"Well that's not really a nice thing to say when you first meet someone... For your information, I'm pansexual." Though the term was unfamiliar to him, Romano considered it either to be a sexual attraction to cooking utensils and appliances or not caring what it was he was attracted to. Pushing the thought away, Romano was definitely not eager to find out. The blonde man sighed at the rather scared expression on Romano's face and gazed off as though there was a sunset at the other end of the dark cell. Despite the rather weird entrance to conversation, the man appeared almost serene in the golden light from outside. "My name's Flavio, yours?" The man called "Flavio" interrupted Romano's thoughts.
"Er... Lovino." He resorted to his human name in order not to arouse suspicions by calling himself something much more obvious like "Romano" or "South Italy". Flavio smiled and turned his face to him, smiling brightly.
"Well, I suppose Italy has to work together eventually, giusto?" Romano paused.
"You mean Italians, right?" The blonde shook his head, giggling playfully. Romano moved the best he could away from the blonde.
"No, no! I mean us! Italy! Well... South Italy really..." Romano continued to scoot away from the man, tan uniform dragging on the floor. "Oh, don't be like that Romano. We'll have plenty of fun right here, just you and me..." The blonde smirked devilishly, yellow-hazel eyes gleaming over the rim of his shades. From his position in the cell, Romano could see Spain leaning against the bars of his own cell. Flavio advanced on him, scooting closer to Romano. The brunette stumbled onto his knees and eventually into a standing position. Flavio stood as well, smiling brightly and pulled Romano closer to him in attempt to drag him to the dark half of the cell.
"Leave me alone! Spain! Help me you bastard!" The Spaniard quickly turned to see Romano gripping the cold iron bars, Flavio tugging on his waist.
"Andiamo! Let's have some fun, hm?" The blonde laughed cheerfully in contrast to the expression on his face which said; "You aren't going anywhere any time soon...". His hands so tight that they were almost super-glued to the bars, Romano pulled himself towards them in resistance to the other Italian's insistent pull. Spain laughed knowingly, a man looking shockingly similar to him peeking his head around the corner.
"I'll save you Romano, don't worry!" The less visible of the two shouted reassuringly, the other giving a swift kick in his direction.
"Don't even think about it. Besides, not only are the cells locked but Flavi has a way of getting what he wants if you know what I mean..." Not-Spain spoke nonchalantly, shrugging tiredly. Romano tightened his grip on the bars, hands on the verge of cramping.
"He sure as hell doesn't! Get off of me! Your like my brother, your so clingy... Well, maybe just more perverted..."
"Roma? Is that you fratello?" A voice called from down the hallway, Italy's words echoing off of the damp stone.
"Si, now get off of me you bastard!" Romano gave a swift backward kick to his perpetrator. Before he could let momentum bring it back down however, the hands moved from his waist and to his leg. Flavio kicked the back of one and tugged sharply on the other, Romano's hands sliding down the iron as his chest hit the floor. A dull ache came over his chest and spine, too much tension. Flavio proceeded to pull him, but by the feet instead. As sweat corroded his grip on the bars, a final tug dragged them off of the cool surface. Before he could move again, Flavio had topped him and forced his head to look at a new dirt stain on his suit with a rough hand. Hell this guy was fast...
"You see that?" He spoke sinisterly, a much too cheery to be natural expression on his features. "That, is going to cost you, capito?" Romano gulped as he was dragged into the dark depths of his shared cell.
"How did you even get out of the chains in the first place?" Romano grunted the words as he attempted to escape the strong grip by flailing his limbs in whatever possible direction he could think of. The man's voice softened.
"Oh, that. Well you see, I'm much better at the nitpicky things then my dearest fratello, who might I say prefers to use force and attitude to get what he wants."
"You bastard, you call this lacking in force?" Flavio sighed when the chains on Romano's wrists wouldn't allow him any farther from the opposite wall. He clamped the unused cuffs around Romano's ankles, immobilizing him (to an extent). Before taking to the brunette, he watched Flavio take his scarf and jacket off, folding them neatly to the side, frowning at the unfortunate stain. He undid a plethora of buttons on his golden-yellow dress shirt to reveal well toned muscles.
Romano could feel the sweat dripping down his neck and the panic rising inside his aching chest. The blonde took to the belt on Romano's jacket, eyes appearing hungry in the darkness. Wincing as the hands reached the belt, Romano closed his eyes. A few moments later however, nothing had happened. He slowly opened his eyes, Flavio appearing confused.
"H-how does it come off? There's no tail or holes... Nothing! I'm lost." The blonde poked the belt a few times. "It makes no sense..." Romano had to admit that when he was younger and on nights that he was overly tired even he the very owner of the belt, could not take it off. This often lead to sleeping his clothes over night and wearing them out the next day. He smirked, knowing the exact same kind of belt remained on his pants, happily saving him from a very uncomfortable situation. He was about to respond to the puzzled blonde when a familiar scream and Italy's pounding footsteps came down the hall.
"I'm sorry! I'm sooooorry! Ve ve ve ve ve..." A man in a brown uniform whipping a belt in circles similar to that of a medieval flail.
"You have till cinque to get your ass over here bastardo!" The man screeched the words, obviously giving zero care as to how stealthy he indeed wasn't. "Uno... Due... Tre..." The man's voice faded in a Doppler effect as he ran down the hallway. Romano gave Flavio a confused look, one of which the blonde returned to him. "Lasciami andare! The Italian came into view again, a set of guards restraining him. One of the militia soldiers opened the iron door to the cell and came in, giving the two of them a look. The guard took the chains off of Romano, chaining Flavio back into his corner. The same rough grip as before hauled Romano up, leaving the angrier brunette in his place. He found himself being shoved into a similar cell as before, but instead of a kitchenware loving blonde, sat his brother.
"Romano! Romano! He chased me because Isaidsomethingandwasn'tchainedandthenhegotreallymadatmeandbeforethattrickedmeintopickingthelockandthenhe-" Italy took a breath in the middle of his rapid speech. "chasedmedownthehallwayandtriedtoslaughtermeand oh Romano... It was awful!" Romano stared at Italy, attempting to process the words.
"Uh yeah... I bet it was bad...? Wait a minute... You were unchained and you didn't come and save me?! Bastardo! What in the diablo is wrong with you? Is your brain filled with potato or something?" He started yelling at the lighter brunette who cowered in the other corner of the cell.
"I'm sorry! Don't yell at me anymore please!" He whimpered the words, invoking the little bit of sympathy he had for the younger man.
"Fine... What are you smirking at?!" France, who sat in a cell across from them laughed.
"I suppose this is just the beginning, hm Romain?" Romano rolled his eyes, focusing his attention on a ruckus that had started up farther down.