40. Self Preservation And Games

Date Written: March 26, 2019

Date Posted: February 1, 2020

Characters: Veneziano, Sealand

Summary: The Nations are at a meeting. They bring out some board games and the like. Sealand tries to sneak in. Mission Failure. Call in the Italian.

Notes:

The best thing about international meetings was that their bosses technically didn't expect much from their respective Nations. Yes, Nations were supposed to play nice and maintain positive relationships, but treaties and specific legal procedures were best left in the hands of politicians. Work was already a mountain high stack of documents, why increase the workload? Even the most studious Nations felt it necessary to relax during meetings.

As such it came as no surprise when Switzerland, of all Nations, just happened to bring a battered old chessboard with wooden pieces. He had been planning to play against Austria and Germany for old times' sake, but with all things considered… the rest of the European Nations decided to join in.

And when the Europeans were clamoring over something that was not football, the Americas (specifically that loudmouth) had to get involved.

And when that loudmouth decided to open his mouth, the Africans, Asians, and the members of Oceans were henceforth involved as well.

Some Nations decided to spectate the battle between Austria and Switzerland. Others decided to take matters into their own hands. There were decks of old cards that were shuffled and dealt (and if a couple of them happened to be of Japanese origin bearing strange creatures, no one really cared). Other Nations brought in other games (China brought mahjong, Egypt brought his own mother's old games, etc.). Still, others, opted to handcraft hockey pucks out of whiteboard erasers and hockey sticks from dusty brooms (namely Canada).

And like all things that happened to evade regulation and restriction, they just happened to spin rapidly out of control.

Mahjong and chess were combined in an unholy effort to prove one's intelligence was higher than the other. Cards of all different sorts were mixed together, rules were added and subtracted, and money was rapidly won as often as they were lost. On one side of the meeting hall, Canada and several wintry Nations (and a few of the curious tropics) decided to replace the eraser with a football ("Not that kind of football, America").

Chaos.

Pure and utter chaos.

And Sealand wanted in.

"Can't I pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top go inside? It sounds like a fun!" The little boy with his cute outfit tried his utmost to appear angelic in front of the guard. However, perhaps it was due to Sealand's rapid use of English or the man's lack of understanding, but the sprightly Micronation found himself turned away.

In a huff, Sealand stomped away and sat on an aged armchair meant for visitors. "Those jerks! They're not even working!"

"Hmm? Has the meeting not started yet?"

The military fort's personification looked up from his crossed arms to get a good look at the young man who happened to sit opposite him in an identical armchair. Although the man looked like any old politician, Sealand knew who he really was.

"You're Mr. Italy!"

The Italian smiled.

"My brother has told me many things about you!"

The smile disappeared.

"Ah… you're England's little brother? Sea… land?"

A smile so broad that it could have split his face in two bloomed on Sealand's face. Was this it? Was this the moment that he was waiting for? His tiny body vibrated from the excitement. Could it be that this Nation, the one whom England didn't always have the best opinions of, was going to acknowledge his status?

As a Nation?

Oh, he sincerely wished that Sweden hadn't revoked his phone privileges for the week. Well, even if the couldn't document the best moment of his life, he could still talk to his newly acquired ally and—

Wait! Was Mr. Italy leaving?

"Hey!" Sealand made a grab for the older Nation's sleeve, but found himself pitching forward onto the tiled floor. With pain landing up from his side, the little Nation found himself blinking indignant tears out of his eyes. "Aren't you going to acknowledge me?"

"Um…" The Italian hid an uncomfortable smile with a cough as he extracted a hand to the Micronation. Although it was rude of Sealand to rebuke his help with a scowl, Italy was far too used to England's rebuffing nature. "Why not wait until you're older?"

"But Wy was acknowledged!"

Italy paused. "Different circumstances?"

The young boy scowled. No answer.

Italy knelt down, his actions purposely made slow. It was a graceful movement, one that heralded attention, but eased Sealand into a state of calm. If he was going to yell at him, the best approach was to remain standing.

"You know… I can sneak you into the meeting since you seem so excited."

"Y-you… you would do that? For me?" Stunned, the boy looked ready to collapse again, but he just barely managed to stand his ground. Despite the sudden spike in excitement, there was still a thing veneer of distrust within his clear blue eyes. "But will you acknowledge me?"

The Italian pursed his lips. If he were any other person, his patience would have slipped, but really… he knew the pitfalls and the aching needs to be included. It was hell to be pushed aside and treated as if he wasn't important. He had known that feeling for far too long to consider it anything less than a friend.

"One thing at a time, bambino." He chuckled and rose to his full height, the might of a former empire settling on his shoulders. "I heard that they were playing football."

"With hockey sticks!"