Stage 1:
Rome, Italy
Caramel eyes snapped open as a shiver wracked through the frame of a young man. Said young man had a strong, almost exact resemblance to Italy, except that his hair was more of a cocoa shade. South Italy (Repubblica Italiana) - Lovino (Romano) Vargas. Romano sat up and rubbed at his scalp, making sure to avoid the mischievous curl.
"What the hell?" He muttered, trying to figure out what that odd feeling was, "I haven't felt this way since the Pla—"
The screams of a small girl startled him to the point that he fell out of bed. It was then that he noticed, looking at the empty half of his bed, "Where the hell is that bastard?" He sighed again before straightening out his pajamas and walking out of the room to follow the noise.
The slim nation walked down the stairs until he was able to see the living room. There was a tall, elegant young man standing in the center. His chocolate hair still had a look of formal romantic, even though it was a bit messy from sleep. His emerald eyes were softly lidded as a deep, accented voice (the kind that would send shivers down your spine) sang a Spanish lullaby to a small blonde child in his arms. Lovino walked over a bit, his footsteps halting the other man's voice.
"Ah," Spain (España) - Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. "Romano, sorry to wake you up."
"Whatever," Lovino huffed before he looked at the girl. With long, curly blonde hair and sad, sleepy blue eyes, Isabella was the one and only thing that kept Romano from killing Germany for corrupting his baby brother. But something unnerved him: the child was usually all smiles but she was so subdued right now. "Isabella? What is it? Did you have a nightmare about the idiot potato-bast – I mean, your father?" The blonde girl silently wiped one of her teary eyes before she looked straight at Lovino and whispered,
"Mama's dead."
Lovino's heart sank. Spain noticed the younger nation's shock before he rocked the five year-old girl back and forth, asking, "Now, what would make you say such a scary thing? Huh Isabella?" Isabella shook her head before burying her face into Spain's chest, murmuring,
"Usually I feel happy and warm, even when Mama's away. But now I can't feel anything…" That was all Romano needed to hear before he rushed upstairs, ignoring Spain's calls.
"Damn it Feliciano…" He hissed, removing his bed-clothes before he stepped into the shower for a quick wash. As the warm water cascaded down his suntanned skin, that shiver of dread rushed through him again; it was so bad that it forced him to gain his bearings by leaning of the tiled wall of the shower; panting like he had just run a marathon. "What happened to you?"
Spain silently watched as Lovino ran around the house, checking if he had everything that he needed before he went out. But when he noticed something, he had to say something, "Hey, Romano?"
"What?" Romano huffed back, trying to put on his shoes.
"Don't forget about your necessaries! You know, the ones that you always take with you no matter where you g-?"
"I get it!" Lovino yelled, walking upstairs to the master bedroom. Inside, he whispered, "If I were Antonio…", before he tugged open the bedside drawer. After tossing aside a red sheet, a jar of weapon-polish, and a baby sea-turtle, Romano picked up one of the items he was looking for. It was hand-gun: composed of a deep red-colored steel and an emerald handle.
If anyone makes fun of my gun Tomatillo, I'll shoot out every single one of your rotten teeth from your rotten mouth, capisce? My friends in the ma—I mean, my business acquaintances had this gun specially made for me.
Digging a bit further, he found his other favorite item: a switchblade that had the same decorative theme as his gun. He made sure that Tomatillo had its safety on and that the blade was folded up, he dropped them into his pockets and rushed back downstairs.
Spain was still trying to console Isabella, whose tears had lessened to a trickle of their former selves. He saw Lovino about to walk out the door when he called, "Ah, Romano?"
"What is it tomato-bastard?" Lovino replied, tugging an exquisite-looking jacket of deep green and burgundy over his shoulders. Spain shrugged off the mean name and spoke again,
"If you're going out, maybe you should go get your Vespa out of the shop, si?" Romano groaned out, opening the door,
"Fine! Now, is there anything else that you want to bother me about?" His anger was taken down a notch when Antonio rubbed him on the head with his free hand.
"Be safe… My little tomato."
"Bastardo!" Lovino fumed, slamming the door as he walked out.
Walking down the streets of Rome at night, usually wasn't the best of ideas. Unless you're a tourist who is doing pretty damn well not to make themselves a target for pick-pockets. But this was Lovino's home; he himself was the beautiful land that was known as Romano.
He quickly moved down the bustling streets, trying to find a certain building located amongst all the others. He sighed when he finally found it: a normal-looking restaurant building that was mustard in shade. He walked straight past all the tables and all the customers, nodding to the manager who led him right through the building.
Romano exited the back of the restaurant before he saw what he was looking for. This building looked like a black and red, more elegant version of the restaurant on the other side. There were two burly looking men in suits standing outside of the door, but Lovino merely nodded to them before they opened the door and let him in.
The air in the main room of the building was thick with the smell of tobacco, fine wine, and the wonderful cuisine of the finest Italian food. He walked through, barely noticing the glares that he received from the men but making sure to greet all the women. He walked until there was a call of,
"Ciao! Look who it is, Lovino, come!" Romano walked over to get a better look at the man: the current Don of the Italian Mafia. But to the nation, he was just a little babe in the long line of this family business (Romano did introduce his people to the way of organized crime) "Sit down, we're about to have a quick game of cards as soon as Frieda gets back here with the wine!" As tempting as playing cards with these guys was, Lovino shook his head,
"Maybe next time Alberto. I'm here for my bike, though. You said you were going to have one of the boys fix it?"
"Ah!" The large suited man stood from dinner and placed a firm hand on Romano's shoulder, "Right this way! You are going to be very happy with the repairs we made to Libellua (Dragonfly)."
Sure enough, the calm night life of the city of Rome was interrupted via the loud revving of a motor. A garage door opened and, with a loud screech, Romano was riding out on a fire-red Vespa scooter; vine-designed decals decorating the glossy sides of the bike.
"Hang on fratello…" Romano whispered as he kicked the bike into a higher gear.
If there was one thing that Romano never did, it was follow traffic lights. So why, when his baby brother might be in danger, would he follow them now? He sped through the streets of Rome, even going as far as to jump off of and go through the other cars in traffic. After a while of reckless driving, he managed to get to a stretch of road that wasn't completely congested. The only noise that filled Lovino's ears was that of Libellua and -
"The hell?" In an instant, Lovino stopped the bike with a screeching halt that, thankfully, stopped before it met water.
Water? More like ice.
But those two factors were so strange! Usually, on a good day, Lovino could ride straight through the country until he had to stop right before Venice. But now there were thick sheets of ice forming from what seemed to be a flood that swamped the land.
Water was surge forth from every possible source. When it would reach as far as it would go, it would stop and freeze to an impregnable thickness before the process would start again; each time getting closer and closer to covering the ground completely.
Romano's eyes were wide at the sight, not sure if he should keep going or not… A chorus of screams caused him to turn and he gasped at what he saw. There were hundreds of his people were running away from the water and ice. For very good reason. Every time someone wasn't quick enough and they were touched by the ice or the water, it would surge forth and cover them before solidifying into an icy cocoon.
"Shit!" Lovino looked down and saw that his Vespa was slowly about to become the next victim. He took the keys from the ignition and pressed the alarm on the key-chain that came with the vehicle. There was a poof of smoke before the Vespa disappeared and reappeared in Romano's hand as a red capsule.
The brunette nation snatched it up and did something that no one else besides his brother could do better:
He ran like a bat out of hell through the quickly dilapidating city of Rome, buildings and cars either being pierced through by spikes of ice or covered completely. The Italian brothers had always been fast; a fact that Lovino thanked God for as he narrowly avoided every falling building and shard of crystal ice that plummeted to the ground all around him.
A sound akin to glass rang out all through the city as a sheet of ice shattered on the ground, sending fragments everywhere that cut through buildings, stone, concrete… people. Even Romano was cut by a small piece that sliced up his arm.
"Fuck! Have to," He seethed, clutching at his bleeding arm, "Find tall building…" He looked around where he was exactly before he saw it. "Pelazzo Eni. ( 1 )" He whispered before he ran towards the tallest building Rome had to offer.
The building was empty at this time, all workers having gone home, but it was calm for only a second before spears of ice began to stab through the windows of Pelazzo Eni, the windows immediately shattering from the pressure.
Lovino didn't have to be told twice to move. He immediately went straight for the elevator, but it was quickly being frozen over from the inside. "Chigii!" He yelled, trying to find the stairs. He knew, at first sight, that there was no way in hell he would be able to make it up in time on foot. He brought out the capsule from earlier and threw it to the ground, hopping on to Libellula and drove up the flights, ice freezing the surface of the stairs and stabbing into the building at haphazard angles that made it almost impossible to drive.
Halfway up, a sharp, spike ripped through the building; obscuring the rest of the path. Romano had less than a second to think of a course of action; he clenched his teeth before he jumped off of his Vespa, letting the momentum send the bike to the ground on its side so that it was able to slide under the ice. He himself slid over the ice and made it just in time to land on the bike, speeding up the rest of the steps.
From the outside, Pelazzo Eni seemed to be just fine. There was a screeching noise of three different car crashes happening at once as the building was impaled by hundreds of spikes, then a large thorny-shard of ice shot through the roof of the building. But, if you were well enough to look closer, you could see something speeding down the side of the building.
Romano's eyes were focused completely on getting back to the ground, but it seemed that as he was driving down the remaining side of the building, the ice spikes were following him with every turn.
"Fuck off, would you?" He screamed as he turned a hard left, but the ice just followed him; crunching glass as it went. "Shit!" Romano growled, grabbing for Tomatillo. He looked behind him using the small rear-view mirror as he adjusted his aim as best as possible. "I told you to fuck off!" He snapped out, pulling the trigger.
The way that Tomatillo worked was quite unique: first of, it didn't shoot bullets, it shot tomato seeds. Then, it would shoot five at every time. Finally, the seeds that Tomatillo shot burst into flames on impact.
Sure enough, when the five seeds that had been fired made contact, the icy pike lost some of its mass as it crumbled away. "Fuck, I hate when I'm wrong!" Romano gulped as he prepared himself for a free-fall of a jump.
He sped up before he jumped with Libellula onto one block of ice, then he skidded over to another that spun around before he could keep up his pattern. It seemed like ages before he finally got to the ground. But even then, he didn't stop his speed.
Rome was still freezing over, spikes of ice still growing all around.
"Feliciano! Hang on just a bit longer, Feli!" Lovino whispered, speeding on through the frozen tundra that Italy was becoming.
A/N:
( 1 ) Pelazzo Eni is apparently the tallest building in Rome, Italy. It's a business building of some sort.
In this part of the game, we get to see Spain and Romano. Isabella, Germany and Italy's daughter, is just for the fan fiction version of the script though. In the actual game, I'm thinking of just having Romano having a nightmare about Feliciano.
Oh well, contributions to the project are welcome with open arms!
Would you like to save?
To press 'Yes', please leave a review.
-Tyranno's girl.