Eyelash Curlers And Butcher Knives
~Chapter One: To The Metaphorical Guillotine, Spagna!
I've been working on this for sooo long! The original content included a Snow White-esque awakening of 'Tonio. But it disappeared mysteriously, so I had to re-write it. Though this version came out a lot better. Enough rambling. Let's get down to business. (To defeat the huns.)
I do not own Hetalia. World Series or otherwise.
Spain's P.O.V (Point of View)
I never thought Lovino Vargas was capable of such nonsense. All these years, I assumed that he would spontaneously combust if put in this situation. Yet, before my eyes, was the Lovino "Romano" Vargas, also known as the (Southern) Republic Of Italy. In a pink, frilly dress complete with a look of murder in his eyes.
It all started this morning - a very happy and sunny morning. I woke to a brightly lit room with birds chirping melodic hymns outside my window. A smile immediately showed itself, and I was up, basking in the pure bliss of sunbeams that shone down on the windowsill. My arms spread out, reaching to touch the warmth that fell upon me while stretching out my muscles at the same time. I let out a soft moan of contentedness and made my way to the bathroom to "freshen up".
Eventually, I found myself in the kitchen- hiding.
In my defense, I had no idea that opening a washroom door was so dangerous, or that Lovi would happen to be walking past said door just in time to be hit in the face. It was an honest mistake, but Lovi wouldn't have it. His immediate reaction was to yell a stream of profanities, whilst clutching his facial features to make sure they didn't fall off or something, and then declare my death at his hands.
So, I hid in a cupboard that was too high for him to reach. It had been only 10 minutes until the air was free of swear words and the Italian seemed to have resumed his life. Which meant that I'd have to sit there until lunch when he was too hungry to care and demanded me to whip him up something.
It took about an hour before Romano started searching for me. He only sounded partially angry, mostly concern in his voice.
"Oi, Spagna! Where are you? Lunch isn't going to make itself!" This was my cue, and I only spent a few seconds pushing out that housewife feeling of resentment before I jumped – or fell, it was hard to tell with the sudden blur of crashing down – out of my hiding spot.
"Here I am!" I declared triumphantly. Romano stared at me for a moment in bewilderment, but that didn't deteriorate my smile. What did, however, was a bible flying past my cranium, followed by a frying pan and a ship in a bottle. Darn. That was my favorite one, too.
"You bastard!" The nostalgic feeling of being on a battlefield went through me, triggering my conquistador side. I couldn't help it, it was part of me! Which meant that Lovi couldn't get mad at me when I deflected a vase and tossed it back at him, or when I literally cornered him while holding a broom handle to his throat. I just have little self-control when it comes to that side of me, is all.
Lunch wasn't particularly interesting at first. We spent a few moments deciding what should be eaten, and then I got to making it. When I was in the middle of my cooking session, an obnoxious chime rang through the house, startling both Romano and I. The Italian cursed the noise for daring to make him jump while I made a beeline for the front door.
As soon as it was opened wide enough, a flash of white dashed into the room and latched onto Lovi, who was peeking from the kitchen to see who it was. I had half a mind to run over and try to detach the creature, though it was soon revealed that said creature was nothing but an innocently affectionate fratello.
"Ve~," it said in a sing-song voice. I couldn't help but smile, the Northern part of Italy held a large soft spot in my heart. Though it'd practically be a sin to not have a soft spot for him.
The younger Italian continued to fondle his elder as I watched with a smile on my face. Soon, I felt a strange object tugging on my trousers.
"Wha-?," I stated intelligently. Once I looked down, I caught a smirking Frenchman trying to unlatch my belt. Behind the mischievous pervert was a discarded shirt which looked strangely identical to the one that should have been on my torso. With as much dignity as a shirtless and soon to be pants-less man could muster, I smacked his hand away.
"Francis? When did you get here?" The man sulked for a moment before lifting up my missing garment and standing up straight.
"I came with little Feli, of course! We have much news to tell you abo-"
"OI! Tomato bastard!" As close as Francis and I were, I couldn't help but abandon him for my beloved Lovi. Mostly because I probably did something that needed to be corrected immediately or punishment will ensue, but there was love mixed in there somewhere.
"Yes, Lo-..what is that?" A tanned index finger, presumably mine, pointed to a pile of what looked like tar and tapioca balls mixed.
"Your cooking, idiot." I nodded, not fully understanding the statement. After a moment of reflection, I realized something – I was making lunch before I answered the door! But where did it...oh. I let out a sigh and cleaned up the mess, Feli offering to make pasta as a substitute. I agreed with relief and lent a hand to the Italian.
While indulging in true Italian cuisine, Francis spoke of a contest of sorts that judged contestants on their beauty – a "pageant" he called it. Feliciano contributed his commentary as Francis explained more.
"There are different subcategories to help the judges decide who is the most magnifique. Like a talent section, and, my favorite, the swimsuit segment." The man raised his eyebrows in an all-knowing fashion, chuckled lightly, and took a sip of his wine.
"Ve~," Feliciano concurred, "the girls are really pretty aren't they? And big brother France and I get to judge them!" There was a strange silence that lasted for a few minutes before Lovi started hacking and sputtering.
"Y-You WHAT?." His voice would have been more threatening had his throat not been scratched at so recently. Nonetheless, the inflection he used sounded demanding enough to make Feli flinch.
"Oui, Italie and I are going to be judges for this year's Universal Pageant of Beautiful Peoples And Nations Of The World. Or World Pageant for short." I smiled and grasped Lovi's wrist under the table. I had an instinct that told me if I hadn't done so, he might have reduced the number of World Pageant judges, and that wouldn't be fair to the contestants.
Feliciano held up an official document of the pageant, pointing to two names with an excited smile.
"See, see, fratello? Isn't it exciting?" I could have sworn I heard a low growl come from the older Italian, but ignored it. Francis sighed in response.
"Sadly, there is also a petition against such a glorious pageant." The man held up another paper which held a handful of names signed sloppily on rows of lines.
"They say that nations and humans shouldn't be grouped together, and if a country wins then they will be seen as superior to others." I nodded, grasping the main idea of the statement.
Romano relaxed and took to playing with his food while grumbling, which left me to release his wrist.
After a peacefully quiet siesta, it was my job to bid the duo farewell. We exchanged hugs and made small talk for a while before Francis seemed to have had an epiphany.
"Oh my, I almost forgot!" The man made a dash for the kitchen, Feliciano and I following in confusion. We found Romano hurriedly signing one of the papers while the Frenchman was tugging on it. After being signed, the paper was let go and a small fuss was made.
"You wrinkled the paper! Ah, well." Francis's eyes widened suddenly as he glanced at the paper, a smirk forming.
"Ce devrait être intéressant.~," he remarked. What that meant, I couldn't tell. I settled for shrugging it off and guided the guests to the front door.
Lovi followed out of what could be mistaken as courtesy, but he assured me that he 'just wanted to make sure those idiots were gone.'
I woke to a strange sensation in my pants.
Well, in my pocket, but it was my pant's pocket. I dug in my pocket briefly to find my mobile device buzzing. It took me a moment to answer, due to my drowsiness I suppose, but once I did I was greeted rather kindly.
"Ah, Mon Ami! Would you kindly open the door in about...2 minutes, s'il te plait?" It was Francis, which was obvious from the French phrases. I made sure he knew I was in agreement before hanging up and going to the front door.
Once the two minutes were up, I pulled the door wide open and found a duo of beaming nations.
"Ve~, Ve~! Big brother Spain, we're here to give you..these!" On the last word, Feliciano thrust a collection of papers in front of me. My eyes adjusted to the print as I read aloud:
"Dear Lovino Vargas, congratulations!
You have officially been entered in the Universal Pageant of Beautiful Peoples And Nations Of The World!
Thank you for signing up! We look forward to seeing you strut your stuff on the stage. However, before you enter there are a few necessities you will need to cover.
I swallowed hard, Lovi was not going to like this.
"Um, Francis? I don't remember Lovi signing up for-"
"Oh, but he did!"Rudely interrupting my sentence was a piece of paper with the words "Contestants" printed at the top. Sure enough, at the bottom of the page, was the handwriting of the Italian I had raised.
Francis was wearing an annoying smirk while Feliciano looked like he was about to explode of joy. I contemplated slamming the door in their faces, but that was Lovi's job.
"Um..okay. I guess I'll give this to Lovino then..?" The two seemed content with my decision and invited themselves in to watch while I did the deed.
We made our way up the stairs, past a large variety of hallways, through a couple of doors, and reached our destination with anxiety and stampedes of bulls running in our stomachs. Well, mine. The other nations looked rather amused at my fate.
I took a deep breath and knocked on the door of Lovi's room. There was the sound of shuffling of what I thought sounded like sheets and then footsteps.
"What?" Was my polite greeting. A nervous smile was present on my face as I took a step towards the metaphorical guillotine.
"Umm...I think you should see this." I handed him the few papers that were given to me before hand.
"Estimado Señor, por favor asegúrese de que yo vivo para ver el mañana.."I whispered desperately.
Translation:
(Spanish)
Estimado Señor, por favor asegúrese de que yo vivo para ver el mañana.. – Dear Lord, please ensure that I live to see tomorrow..
(French)
Magnifique – Beautiful
Ce devrait être intéressant~ – This should be interesting~
Mon ami – My friend (male)
s'il te plait? – Please? (informal)
A/N: Reviews make the world go round! More than 3 = Speedier than The Flash update.