Co-write with my bestie on and offline, Luna Safire who is a far superior writer than I, and who has been beta-ing this and fixing it as we go.
YOU MUST READ HER STUFF FOR THE LOVE OF PASTA!
I put my iPod down on the table next to me, external speakers on full blast. Being the extreme history nerd I am I was jamming out to Europa by Globus while doing my homework. The haunting introduction started out as what seemed like soft chants from an ancient language that progressively grew louder. Soon enough, it was replaced with heavy percussion and an eerie choir. Moments later, the string section and the brass joined in with the lyrics.
"From Agincourt to Waterloo,
Poitiers, and then Anjou,
The Roses War, the Hundred Years,
Through battlefields of blood and tears;
From Bosworth Field to Pointe Du Hoc,
Stalingrad, and the siege of York;
The bloody turf of Gallipoli
Had no effect on the killing spree!
Bannockburn to Austerlitz,
The fall of France, and the German Blitz;
The cruelest of atrocities,
Europa's blood is borne of these!" At his point I was so engrossed in the song that I couldn't hear anything else.
"Heaven help in all our battles,
Heaven see love, heaven help us!"
People in my class have made fun of me many a time because of my obsession with the past. They mocked history in class and gave such stupid answers that suddenly I would turn into Hermione Granger and snap corrections at them. Little did I know my seemingly useless ability to recall historical events would be quite handy within the next few weeks.
I finished my history and switched subjects, looking to the next question on my English paper. "What is foreshadowing?" I wrote down my response. Foreshadowing is a literary device used to hint at things that will happen later on in the story.
The song continued on. I was too into it to notice the loud thud that came from my closet.
"Bolsheviks and feudal lords,
Chivalry to civil wars,
Fascist rule, and genocide;
Now we face the rising tide
Of new crusades, religious wars,
Insurgents imported to our shores;
The western world, gripped in fear -
The mother of all battles here!"
I started to sing along in my inappropriately high voice.
"Heaven help in all our battles,
Heaven see love, heaven help us!
Avant hier, avons etre
Deja demain, nous sommes eclairee !
All glory, all honor,
Victory is upon us!
Our savior, fight evil,
Send armies to defend us!"
I finished my English homework and started to recline back in my chair. I gave up singing and listened to the last parts of the song.
"Europa, Europa,
Find better days before us!
In kindness, in spirit,
Lead us to a greater calling!
Leningrad, the Berlin Wall,
March on Rome, Byzantium's Fall,
Lightning War, Dresden Night-"
Suddenly my closet burst open and a crying brunette stumbled out.
"Ahh! Questa canzone sta cominciando a farmi triste!"
At this point I did what any other calm collected person would do if someone randomly showed up in there closet for God knows how long: I screamed a loud shrill scream that probably made all the dogs in the neighborhood wet themselves. A second man ran out of my closet and forcefully covered my mouth with his hand.
"Ora guarda quello che ti ho fatto, idiota!
My epic language skills kicked in and told me that the intruders were speaking Italian, that and their similar hair made me believe that they were related. Related assassins! I thought. I started to cry out of fear. Yet another man decided to come out himself. I nearly passed out. How many freaking people where in there?! At least they're not assassins, I thought. No one would pay this many people to put out a hit on me, and it wouldn't take three fully grown men to take out a small high school girl. But why did they look so familiar?
"El gato está fuera de la bolsa. ¿Por qué estás llorando?"The third guy asked me. Spanish. The other guy uncovered my mouth so that I could respond. Then I figured out why failing Spanish a bad idea. At least, though, while I struggled with the spelling, I could pronounce the necessary words correctly.
"No hablo español, yo soy americano. Por favor-" I tried to figure out how to say the next part, but I had no idea. Negotiating with people who broke into your house wasn't a unit we'd covered in 7th grade Spanish class. "Nolite necarte me! Qui estis?!" I finished in Latin, hoping that there it sounded like whatever the heck its Spanish and Italian counterpart was.
The Spaniard laughed. "Lo siento." He apologized in his own language before switching to Latin. "Non Scio populus dicunt in latinā linguā in americā."
I was still shaking. It took me a few moments to gather enough courage to reply.
"I only take Latin in school. I just used it because it's the root of Romance languages and I hoped it would kinda sound like Spanish- wait a minute! Wait! Who are you people?! And how the Hades did you get in my closet?!"
"We were walking around the conference center and we got lost so we walked through this door and we fell into here and then we heard you and we didn't want to scare you so my big brothers were arguing over what to do and I was listening to your song and it made me sad and it brought back really bad memories and I started to cry and I couldn't take it anymore and I'm sorry I scared you!" the first one said, talking so quickly I had no idea what he was he was saying. Something about a door? And a conference? He didn't seem like a business man. I gave him a hug and tried to calm him down.
"You're not from here are you? I asked. The Italian shook his head.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Veneziano. "He replied.
"Okay Veneziano, I'm going to call one of my friends, because both of our families are on vacation and she'll know what to do." Veneziano nodded and I pulled out my cell.
I picked up my phone immediately I skipped he greetings and cut to the chase. "Hey Luna I need you over here ASAHP!"
"Wait, now? And what's ASAHP?"
"As soon as humanly possible."
"Alexia, I live next door. It won't take me that long. "
"THEN WHY AREN'T YOU HERE YET! RUN!"
"I'm putting on my shoes you crazy person!" She hung up on me and was at the door within the minute. She let herself in with the key I gave her.
"Lex?" She called.
"Coming!" I responded. I lead the guys down the stairs and into the foyer.
Her eyes bugged out if her head when she saw them. I started to explain in rapid fire mode what had happened but she cut me off immediately and went up to the tallest one, the Spanish-speaker. She still towered over him.
"Are you… ¿es usted España? Ay, no, no comprendo… ¿Qué fue la moneda de España de los mil quinientos?
"Tuvimos escudos y…"
"Ay! Escudos! Es… ¿es usted España? ¡Es imposible! ¡Es un personaje de ficción!"
I had to pull Luna out of her little conversation. "Do you know these guys?" I whispered.
"I don't know how it's possible, but by whatever miracle, they're characters from Hetalia."
"What?" Then it hit me like a brick of truth, or rather Luna's hand on the back of my head. We turned back around. Slowly, I began to recognize their features down to the hair curl.
With a loud FWOOSH the door nearly slammed open into my face and Luna and I had to jump back to avoid it. My annoying older sister bust into the room, brandishing a bag of groceries with that dramatic flair of hers.
"TENGO CHURROS!" she yelled. Then she saw Luna, myself, and our three visitors. Obviously stunned, she turned back to me. "Um, Alexia, I know I told you and Luna that you were too innocent, but I didn't mean-"
"Usted tiene churros?" The newly identified Spain asked. Amelia just stood there for a good 45 seconds, gawking at him.
"¡Usted es Espana! ¡Usted es guapísimo y te amo!"
"OH, COME ON!" I yelled at her. "NO MORE SPANISH!"
"Sono d'accordo." Romano agreed.
"Shoot!" I screamed. "I have Latin to finish!" Without thinking I ran back up to my room. Felicano joined in and helped me with some of the harder translations. Later, Romano joined the party as well, complaining under his breath in Italian. All I could figure out was something about the stupid tomato bastard and some crazy Ragazza. The silence got really awkward real fast so I decided to play some music as I worked. I skipped Europa to avoid upsetting Veniziano again. The next thing to come up was Geografia by La Oreja de Van Gogh but I was fed up with that particular language. Next up was In Italia. Only after the first few lyrics did I realize the irony.
Deep bass blasted through the speakers. Romano picked a book off the shelves and started to read sitting next to my bed, obviously unfazed despite all that had happened. After a while Italy began to doodle on a random sheet of paper. It was amazing. He drew with astonishing accuracy; but of course he did, he's Italy. I found myself asking for his help on some of my unfinished sketches. Needless to say, it was awesome to get drawing lessons from a Renaissance artist.
Somehow, everything had quieted down nicely, but it made me wonder: between my sister, best friend, three crazy anime characters, and myself, how long would it last that way?
Next chapter will be up soon!
If you want to see the AMAZING AMV that got me into this song, which in turn inspired this fic then I'll PM you or leave it in the reviews if it's allowed I don't want flammers to torch me (^ ^;) APH The Cruelest of Atrocities on YouTube it should be the black and white looking one with Italy on it. It was INTENSE
Luna took out a bunch of the music I was going to use… There's always next time!
I hope you like languages because there will be as much as I can get away with in this fic! ( I love languages! And I to learn them ALL)
Headcannon: 1)Since they don't really know where they are they speak their own language, hence the Italy bustin' out the door and yelling in Italian. 2) Spain and the Italy bros know Latin for obvious reasons, Spain isn't as good with it ( as evident in the language) as Italy and Romano.
~ Translations~
Italian: Questa canzone sta cominciando a farmi triste.- This song is starting to make me sad
Ora guarda quello che ti ho fatto, idiota!- Now look what you've done, you idiot!
Sono d'accordo.- I agree
Ragazza- girl
Latin: …Nolite necarte me! Qui estis?!- Don't kill me! Who are you ?! (plural)
Non scio populus dicunt in latinā linguā in americā.- I didn't know people speak Latin in America. (I'm para-phraseing)
Spanish : El gato está fuera de la bolsa. ¿Por qué estás llorando?- The cat's out of the bag. Why are you crying ?
No hablo…Porfavor- I don't speak Spanish. I'm American. Please-
¿es usted España….Es un personaje de ficción!"
"Are you... are you Spain? Ah, I don't understand... what was the currency of Spain in 1500?"
"We had escudos and..."
"Ah! Escudos! Are... are you Spain? It's impossible! You're a fictional character!"
TENGO CHURROS!" - I have churros!
"Usted tiene churros-You have churros?
"¡Usted es Espana! ¡Usted es guapísimo y te amo!***- You're Spain! You are hella** fine and I love you!***
all Spanish is the doing of Luna and my sister
**hella -issimo in Spanish means really,( as my sister's Spanish teacher apparently explained )so tecnicly it should be something like You are Really hot or something of the sort
*** That is what happens when you let your twin fangirl all over your story.