Is it too much to ask for a nice, even, 50 reviews? *in emo corner* My luck despises me. Just for that, no real chapter for you! So there! Nya! Feel my pain! You saw an update, but it was worthless! Muhahahaha!

…aw f*ck it, I'm depressed, aren't I? This is what happens during finals…

Well, wish me luck I guess.

February 24, 2015

Arya's POV:

Month 4, Day 5 "Hetalia" Reckoning

(Song) Quote For the Day:

"Tell everybody I'm on my way." –Song

It's been three weeks since Romano K.O-ed 2p America with that mirror, and both 2p!England and Canada have gone to ground. Now the G8 (or G6, as it is right now) assigned one of the more militant countries are assigned to follow me around 24/7, which can be kinda annoying and kinda fun, depending on which country. I usually get Hungary or Sweden, since their 2p changes are fairly obvious and they're fairly good at beating people up, if push comes to shove. Hungary can go "War of Austrian Succession" in a heartbeat (I have bruises to prove it), and Sweden can just…well…Sweden is Sweden.

Not to steal Finland's thunder or anything, but Holy Martin Luther, he's scary!

He's just so quiet and completely deadpan! I bet if there was a murder going on in front of him all he'd do was blink and go "Wer, t'ey'd haf t' die s'time" and then walk away like a boss!

But he's not all that bad, he's less of a pestilence than Hungary can be at any rate. I mean, she's a nice girl, and she means well I'm sure; and yes, it's nice to talk to another girl, BUT EVERY FLIPPING TIME SHE SEES ME SHE TRIES TO CALL ME ON OUT MY NONEXSISTENT CRUSH!

I ask you! Is it so hard to see that I simply don't have one?

(*Side Note: Apparently so, Hungary stole my journal twice yesterday in an attempt to figure it out. Luckily she was only able to skim a few entries, otherwise I'd have been dead meat, trying to explain the concept of "Hetalia" to the countries.)

(People Hungary Has Accused Me of "Crushing" On:

2p!America –I had a conniption.

2p!England –I fainted.

2p!Canada –And I would like him because?

2p!China –I nearly threw up.

2p!Italy –Oh HELL no.

2p!Japan –I met him like what, twice? When he tried to kill me?

2p!Prussia/Gillen –He's a nice guy, but he smokes too much and cares too little about…everything…

America –It feels like I would be dating my father…a very hyper and ADD father…

Austria –Haven't met him yet, and what the hell is attractive about a freeloading aristocrat?

Canada –Who? I haven't met him yet!

China –Too effeminate. Way too effeminate.

England/Anyone Else In the UK –Again, haven't met them yet, so how the hell would I develop a crush on them?!

France –FUCK. NO.

Germany –Again, father figure. Also, too loud.

Italy –He's…no. Just…no.

Japan –He stares into space like a deactivated robot 99.9% of the time. Fuck no.

Prussia –Ah…yeah…no. I'm 50% sure she's gunning for him.

Romano –Too much of a wuss and an asshole alternatively.

Russia –Belarus would slaughter me, America would have a conniption, I would have a heart attack after a few months of close contact…you get the idea.

Spain –Hadn't met him at the time she accused me…so yeah.

And Pretty Every Other Male Country)

But aside from that, things have actually been going pretty damn well. I've finally gotten back to my tip-top form, and Germany is training me worse than ever, the jerk. On the plus side, Prussia has also been inducting me into the art of swordplay, although at this point I can hardly lift the fricking monolith he SAYS I should be able to use. The sword weighs like a ton!

(Prussia says I'm wrong and it's only about four pounds, but you try swinging around four pounds of solid steel like they do in the movies and see where it gets you!)

So since I can barely lift the sword, Germany and Prussia have been teaming up to strengthen my arms, and Prussia's been going through the basic maneuvers with a wooden practice sword. I messed up a lot at first, and when I do it Prussia laughs at me and says I look completely hopeless and that I should just chuck the sword at my enemies and hope it brains them or something. I usually kick him in the shins at that point and then he chases me around Germany's house wielding his actual Teutonic Knights sword and threatening to chop me to pieces, which is pretty fricking scary. Japan says I should stop provoking him, to which I retort that HE should stop provoking ME.

I realize that as I look back over my entries, spend most of my time with the Axis. Romano's still teaching me Italian (Ciao, piacere di conoscerti.) and Italy's actually been trying to get me to paint with him. I've done a few slapdash scribbles of anime characters at home, but it's clear after a few sessions with Michelangelo over there that art isn't really my field.

Me and Japan don't really hang out all that much, but when he comes along with the other Axis we sometimes talk about anime together. Germany and Prussia I wrote down already.

I haven't really seen China since the whole issue with the 2p!s, but Russia came by a few weeks ago and dragged me off to his house in the middle of the night, which was kinda freaky. He showed me the Baltic Trio (Latvia seemed fairly pleased to meet me, but the other two were trembling too hard for any proper introduction.) and we briefly talked about the Russia vs America stereotypes that no longer exist (we were hitting it off fairly well too, he seemed to be enjoying himself), and he gave me a weird Russian drink that I am fairly certain contained vodka. We both got mildly buzzed and he asked afterwards if we could play Russian Roulette, but luckily (or unluckily, as the case may be), Germany and Prussia burst in and dragged me home before we could play. Belarus heckled us a bit when we crossed the Russian border, but other than that, it was a fairly simple trip back.

Germany nearly bust my eardrums shouting about the dangers of drinking, Russians, and guns, but on the whole I think Russia's still a fairly cool dude, no pun intended.

A few days after I got all healed up, I hit upon the brilliant idea of asking America to teach me how to fight with my bare hands, remembering the whole scene with the Pictonians on the deserted island. I think he broke my nose about five times before Romano found us and dragged me back home, shrieking various Italian curse words all the way as America ran after us, laughing his good-natured, completely oblivious laugh and cheerily apologizing for breaking my face.

Canada and America playing baseball, anyone?

I also met France when Romano was teaching me how to curse in Italian (which I had picked up fairly fast…he cursed a lot…), and he's actually not that bad. Flirty, yes. A liiiiittle bit grabby, yes. But he's not a bad guy, he seems to be pretty decent. Also a bit prone to stripping in public, but hey, he seems more like he's messing with people than actually attempting anything sexual.

I dunno, maybe it's the fact he's one-fourth my ancestor/familial figure/homeland that I can't hate him, same as with America.

Speaking of Romano's old "friends" and his attempts to teach me Italian, yesterday after he dragged me into the middle of nowhere, we met Spain, who just happened to have a tomato orchard near Romano's "training grounds". Somehow or another, we got dragged over to help with the summer harvest, something Romano was less than happy about and I was more or less indifferent to.

Don't get me wrong here people: I. Love. Tomatoes.

I've loved them long before I knew of Hetalia, long before I knew of anime, even. My family, what with living on a farm, decided to grow most of our produce, and bada-bing bada-boom, we had a fruit and vegetable garden by the time I was six. My mom and dad joked about me being a tomato vampire, since I bit down and sucked all of the juices out of my tomatoes instead of eating them in the normal fashion.

But when one thought of eating yummy red fruit (yes it's a fruit), one does not think of bending over under a hot sun with no sunscreen and no hat and picking tomato after tomato without being allowed to eat a single one. My country bodyguard for the day, Prussia, dozed off under the shade of the porch as me and Romano slaved away in Spain's fields.

Now I know why Romano called him a bastard.

Something's been bugging me lately, which I confessed to Romano and Prussia when we were driving back home. Norway has shown up a few times over the past week, stared at me for a little while, and then wandered off, muttering in Norse. I wondered if it was something to do with magic and asked Romania, who cocked his head, blinked at me a few times, and then smiled and said it was nothing to worry about, I just had a rather large cloud of magic about me.

Ehe…yeah…and what isn't worrying about that?

"It's like residue for the world-transversal spell, except it should've worn off by now, unless it's been used more than once or twice."

His exact words.

May I refer to my first entry in this journal?

I. AM. FUCKED.

8.26 AM, USA Central Time