Italy played with his knife, distractedly, as one by one the others came and took their places at the table.
Japan was already there- early, per usual.
He sat only a seat or so away, regarding the new arrivals coldly, his lips set in a familiar, disapproving frown.
Germany took his normal seat beside Luciano, without saying a word. Italy offered only a brief grunt of acknowledgement.
Lutz then proceeded to sullenly gaze off at nothing in particular.
Canada still hadn't shown up.
No surprise there, thought Italy, with a tiny itch of displeasure.
He rarely, if ever, bothered to attend. Frankly, It ticked him off.
It was quite possible that the only thing that eclipsed the irritation Italy felt at the nation's flagrant disregard for the whatever the rest of the world had to say, was the fact that, as he'd been forced to begrudgingly admit, there was nothing he could really do about it.
There was no denying that the sun had long since set on the glory days of the Italian empire.
Not like that did much to mollify the nation's rather explosive temper.
Though Luciano was by no means known for being an idiot, neither was he particularly well known for his self-control.
The only real difference between now and then was that, currently, he was far more limited in how, and on whom, he could take out his anger on.
Not to long ago, as far as nation standards went, he'd acquired a habit of attacking Germany.
However, even that had been starting to lose its appeal, as of late. After all, what was the point in fighting a nation that wouldn't even bother to defend himself?
Already, he'd practically had the man wrapped around his little finger for over a century, and counting.
He could hardly even be bothered to 'play' with Germany anymore, honestly. There was simply no challenge to it, even in his diminished state, as it were.
Besides that, he tended to be more useful to him when kept close working-condition.
Japan, on the other hand, was a different story all together.
By both economic and military standards, they were fairly close to being equals.
Italy may have been a bit rash, but he certainly wasn't a fool. Japan was off limits.
They might have worked together in the past; even at one point shared common goals.
As it stood, there relationship was fairly neutral towards one another, in a 'You stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours' type of fashion- if perhaps a bit tense at times. Japan did like to make it explicitly clear that, unlike Germany, he wasn't one to be trifled with.
And then there was Canada. The no-good no-show.
A reclusive, fiercely independent country that might as well have lived an entire world apart, he was practically untouchable.
Italy loathed him for it.
Few had ever tried taking any openly aggressive action towards the nation. Even fewer had made it out of such an attempt unscathed.
Overall, most had come to agree that it was best to just leave him to his own devices.
'Let him keep his frozen wasteland. It's not like he causes any real trouble,' seemed to be the general verdict.
It wasn't a decision that entirely satisfied Italy- or, he suspected, Mathieu's former caretaker.
But then, as he well knew, trying anything was pointless. He was lacking allies as it was. The last thing he needed was more enemies.
He sighed, tracing a long cut across the polished wood.
Germany would just have to do.
That's right… Speaking of his caretaker…
He thought to himself, counting off the present attendees in his head.
Russia, check. China, Japan, Germany… Even France…
Where exactly was England, anyway?
Now that was interesting. Oliver, late?
How very unlike him.
Allan, he might have been able imagine- but then again, he scarcely ever saw the two apart either, so he couldn't really compare.
It seemed that China was thinking something similar.
"Hey. Where's Opium at?" He asked, crossing his arms with a frown.
"Who cares," muttered France, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he spoke, sounding just as apathetic as ever.
The corners of china's mouth twitched slightly, scowl bordering on a grimace.
Of course that would bother him, mused Italy, with a subtle roll of his eyes.
Freaking addict.
No sooner had the words crossed his mind, did the door swing open.
"Sorry we're late, "apologized America, not looking sorry in the slightest.
"Ollie here was feeling a bit under the weather."
All heads turned to the newcomers, some quicker than others.
Luciano leaned a back in his seat, trying to catch a better look at England.
It was almost as if he was cowering behind Alan, baffling enough as it was.
Though he tried to hide it, it was obvious he was worried about something- scared even.
Italy analyzed Oliver's paper-thin façade with a mixture of confusion and piqued fascination.
Hmm… Now, what do we have here?
He watched as Oliver followed Allen into the room, making sure to stay well within a close proximity of the other nation.
Feliciano folded his hands neatly under his chin. He couldn't help but break into a slight grin.
Fortunately, this just seemed to unsettle the man even more.
He did a quick scan of the faces of the room, wondering if he was the only one who'd noticed.
Evidently, he wasn't.
China raised a single inquisitive eyebrow, but otherwise kept is thoughts to himself.
France looked as disinterested as always, and Russia offered no comment, non-verbal or otherwise.
Kuro, however, tilted his head ever so slightly in his direction, flashing a stealthy, but meaningful look Luciano's way.
He glanced at Lutz next, who offered a stoic stare in return.
It didn't say much of his own opinion- if he had one- but it was plenty enough to let Italy know that he'd be willing to go along with whatever he thought was best.
This ought to be interesting,
The nation thought, smugly.
Now, Oliver... Just what exactly are you hiding?