Guess what! The last of my late Christmas presents finally arrived! And it is...A HETALIA T-SHIRT :D (featuring all of the Axis + Allies, as well as Austria and Prussia, which makes it automatically ten times more awesome! But we all know that.)
I'm wearing it now, actually. If only our annual mufti day at school hadn't already been and gone... :( Oh well, there'll be school trips. :D
England said at one point during his version of Marukaite Chikyuu, or maybe another song, idk, that his neighbour's a ghost. So...
Gahhhh, school starts tomorrow... I'll do my best to make sure there's at least one update per week!
Enjoy~
After I re-enter the town, everyone's staring at me, in either bemusement or scorn. No wonder, considering how disheveled I look. If Emmakala hadn't been at risk, I would be scolding myself repeatedly for having done something so stupid.
It's good that I've had so long to learn the streets' layout like the back of my hand. I've lived here since my house in London was destroyed in... 1666.
Damn it. Why can I only think of that memory?
I remember that my boss, at the time, sent me here so that I wouldn't have to see that destruction every day. But then I got attached to it. After all, it is peaceful here.
While appreciating the beauty of the area, a flame from someone's lighter catches my eye. I watch as he takes a drag from his cigarette, puffing some smoke into the air. Normally, I'd be disgusted by this (whenever my brother comes over, it takes hours to get rid of the odor), but today I can only find it painfully reminiscent.
I turn into an alleyway on my right, managing to maintain a stiff upper lip. After all, I am in public. Most of the people here have seen me before and will see me again; I'd never live it down. If only they remembered me for something other than my eyebrows...
The hubbub of the high street quietens as I trace the dark, narrow passages. I know these paths so well, I could probably go through them drunk. Actually, it's possible that I have done, I just can't remember.
A sharp object stabs my foot suddenly, and I look down to the ground, seeing a broken bottle of some kind. The all-too-familiar stench of alcohol makes the situation clear. Okay, on second thoughts, it's likely that I made my way through here drunk.
I take my foot off of the ground, leaning on the wall for support, and carefully pick out the pieces of glass. Another bad consequence of drinking so often, I suppose.
I keep a cautious eye trained on the ground, just in case, until I reach my house again. Emerging from the alleyway, I notice that... oh, okay, I did remember to close the door. That dramatic pause was for nothing.
My heels scrape against the steps leading to my door, making me wince. Once I'm on the porch, I realise something.
The door's locked. I feel the outsides of my trouser pockets in a panic, but obviously, my keys aren't there.
"You've got to be kidding me," I whisper to myself. I don't even have a spare key hidden outside; after I entered my house, when Romania was pointing a gun at me, I left them inside. I'm pretty sure of it, but I decide to check anyway.
I walk around the side of the house, to my back garden. Come to think of it, I haven't had much of a chance to relax recently, and those roses smell so welcoming...
"Why not?" I mutter, choosing to slow down the pace of life for a while. It's not like I'm in a hurry or anything. Last time I checked my calendar, there weren't any big events happening until around Christmas time, so in... wait, how long? What's the date? Lord, I'm losing track of time!
I pull back one of the chairs at the table, shivering against the cold metal. The table, however, is wooden, and is only slightly cool to the touch as I rest my forearms on it, sitting down. Perhaps I should put that pirate shirt on top of this one, since there's no other clothing accessible.
"Hi Artie!" calls a sudden voice. I spin around quickly (out of alertness, not fear, just to clarify), and catch sight of my next-door neighbour, Elizabeth Clarke.
She hovers towards the other chair and sits down, her immortally-fourteen-year-old face looking up at me with her usual jokester's grin. Her skin gives off an eldritch, white glow. Her torn Victorian skirt flows down to the floor, a very slight shade of phantasmal blue darker than her blouse, which is also torn at the sleeves. The clothes she starved to death in over a century ago. If I hadn't banished her parents, who were still abusive towards her, even as ghosts, to the underworld, she wouldn't be smiling right now.
"Nice to see you, Liz," I respond. "How's life treating you?"
I instantly cringe, regretting my choice of words. "Argh, sorry, I mean..."
"You hardly look presentable," she cuts in, smirking. "Tell me, what had you running out of the house in such a state earlier on today?"
"Long story," I reply. "Although, if you must know, Emmakala was kidnapped."
"Really?" she asks, her mirthful smile dropping. At least some people in this world don't think that 'the atmosphere' is a book. "Why did you come back here without her, then?"
"Oh, she's perfectly fine, I assure you. I sent her to find Fialina, and make sure that she didn't get kidnapped as well."
"That's great, then!" she replies, smiling playfully. Her facial expression soon returns to concern. "But who kidnapped her?"
I sigh, leaning slightly further into the back of the chair. "Ruhtra." At her expression of confusion, I explain him to her. "He's... well, he claims to be a clone of myself from the future, who was synthesised using a mixture of science and magic, as a vessel for my memories. No big deal," I add sarcastically.
"So is he like Atsu and Selucreh, then?" she asks nonchalantly, making me look at her in surprise.
"Who and wh- wait, those sound like backwards names. What do they look like?"
"They're ghosts as well! Like me!" she chirps. "Though, they're kind of strange... they both insist on wearing weird hoods all the time. I've never seen their faces, apart from these weird, glowy eyes..."
"Can you take me to them?" I interrupt. "Excuse my rudeness, it's just that I have... matters to discuss with them."
"Oh, uh, sure! They're in my house at the moment. We can talk to them now, if you like."
"That sounds perfect."
