Thanks for the reviews! Sorry it took so long again to update. I'll seriously try to improve my update schedule and finish earlier next time. I hope this chapter makes up for it!
Well, they're here. Now the problem was coming up with a real solid plan.
"…As we've previously stated to you, the four individuals in question are still in the process of being interrogated." One of the guys, D… Oh, wait, dang it, he's not supposed to reveal their names! Let's call him Four-Eyes instead, okay? So, as Four-Eyes was saying… "As we speak, they haven't 'cracked' as of yet, but they are, however, in a state of intense fear and paranoia…"
Cuba couldn't help but cringe. Yup, that sounded like captive Italian spies alright, or at least the ones that're motivated by fear, y'know? As cocky and snobby as that bastard was, he did have the cruelty to back up his threats. And while Italy was surprisingly not the worst boss ever, it should be pretty obvious what the punishment for treason would be…
"…Unsurprisingly, the cause of this hysterical state appears to be none other than the nation of Italy himself." Four-Eyes then revealed with just the slightest hint of discomfort. Even the humans knew to tread carefully around the bastard. "They appear to be under the belief that their leader is watching their every move or something along those lines."
There were a few murmurs from some of the staff, but Cuba only scratched his cheek in bafflement. Dios mio, they're that paranoid?
"I may not be an expert on knowing how the personifications work, but is this possible in any sort of way?" Four-Eyes directed this question straight at Argentina, who straightened a little after being addressed, but not enough to move his hair.
"Not that we know of, no. It is a common misconception, but a misconception still." Argentina informed him in a very serious tone of voice, but still having that sense of gentleness that's characteristic of him. "Fear can lead to irrational thoughts, and fear is a tool Italy is all too fond of using. If you'd like my opinion, I think they're just terrified of Italy finding out of their failure, or if they give us answers, experiencing whatever punishment he'd lay out for them."
Argentina bowed his head, his hair mostly sticking to his face as he made sure to hide it well at every waking moment, and hugged his ovenbird plushie to his chest while murmuring what sounded like sympathetic words. Cuba frowned, sometimes Tina was too nice. The rest of the people weren't as sympathetic, but Cuba could hardly blame them.
"I see…" Four-Eyes nodded. "Well, the point is that it's this irrational fear that appears to be preventing any possible cooperation from the agents."
"…Well, I prefer non-violent methods if possible, but…" Argentina scratched his stringy-haired head, before turning towards Four-Eyes. "What exactly have you attempted so far?
"We've tried several methods already, nothing extreme as of yet, mind you, but none have yielded any significant response." Four-Eyes answered gruffly.
Cuba frowned, and he turned his gaze again at the glass and right at the group of Italians. He couldn't help but cringe a little. They definitely looked like they're more likely to die of fear than spill anything.
"Have you tried assuring them that they'll be placed under watchful eye and good safety if they decide to tell us why they're here?" Argentina asked them hopefully, still patting Cuba on the back with one hand and hugging his plushy with another.
"We have, multiple times in fact. But they appear to either not trust us or too terrified of their leader to even consider telling us any amount of information."
"So they still aren't even close to being willing to answer any of our questions?"
"No, sir. And we are currently debating what our next course of action should be…" Four-Eyes inhaled before speaking up again. "…Which brings me to the purpose of this meeting, as well as why the personification of Cuba is here."
Yeah, he had a reason for being here!
"Does anyone have any suggestions or proposals as to what methods we should use next for the Italians?" Four-Eyes scanned the room before his expression hardened further. "And in light of recent comments, let me remind you all that anything that involves triggering Argentina's unstable state or asking the Middle Easterners for help is out of the question."
Cuba sighed in relief at that. At least most people realized that using Argentina's problems was no good.
He and Argentina both meant it from the bottom of their hearts when they said that the latter's craziness was not a weapon. Screw the bastards that say it could be useful. They know nothing. They don't care about what their nation might feel. They just care about results and themselves.
Putting aside how Argentina would just end up tearing the poor saps' skin off faster that one can say 'Wow guys, we're fucking morons' – that's not even the main point, dang it! – it's just plain sick. Didn't that guy realize what Argentina went through back when they were under that Spanish bastard, and the terror he went through every day that there's a teeny tiny chance he might accidentally drop the ovenbird and go nuts?
And now a human wanted their beloved leader to make a use out of it? Make a use out of the way Argentina's mind completely breaks into a millions pieces, makes him miserable and feel the pain of the scars of his messed up childhood, and slaughters all the people around him in ways that'd make that sadistic maniac Portugal swoon?
Yeah, yeah, maybe he's making a big deal outta this, maybe he wasn't, but the point was that there had to be another way to make these guys spill, and make sure they spill the truth, without having to resort to that.
Cuba had no idea if Italy or the spies were expecting Tina to resort to that to get information. Well, if they did, then they would've cracked by now 'cause everyone knew that a wild Argentina was bad news. So, they probably think that…
…Waaaaaiiit a minute…
Suddenly the light bulb above Cuba lit up, triumphant music played in the background, and he felt a huge grin on his face.
"Erm… Max…?" Argentina called him nervously, knowing what the excited look on Cuba's face meant. "Are you… all right…? What are you thinking about…?"
"Oh, I'm more than all right, Santi." Cuba snickered evilly as he rubbed his hands together. After all, he's El Maximo."I just got an idea~"
Argentina's shoulder slumped, a sweatdrop evident even with that mop of hair. "Oh dear…"
That ended up killing most of Cuba's enthusiasm. "Don't 'oh dear' me, Santi! You know I do have my genius moments, and this could be one of them!"
"I am aware that you're a genius, but I've never really liked that look in your eye…" Argentina voice warily, shaking his head at Cuba. "You always have the same look when you think you're finally going to conquer your smoking allergy."
Cuba. He just had to mention his worst embarrassment in front of these guys, didn't he? "Hey, I'll get over it! I mean, someday!"
"Again, we're definitely going to need to stage another intervention, I'm afraid…" Argentina murmured, and Cuba fell into a depressed slump. "But you can also have good ideas, Cuba, so I'm all ears."
Now that brought him up to a good mood again.
"If you've got an idea, then we'd really like to hear it." Four-Eyes spoke up, although to Cuba's irritation, he looked just as skeptical as Tina did. Come on, why was it so hard to believe Cuba's a genius? "So this better be good."
"It is, trust me! Okay, first off, let me remind you all that unleashing Tina on these jerks is a baaaaad idea." Cuba crossed his arms and shook his head… Maximo style! "And if anyone tries to insist on doing that, or try, and you'll find yourselves getting the infamous Texas wedgie from America."
Several of the people here shuddered at the mention of the rumored extremely painful move. It's right up there with the All-American Nut Punch and the Red, White and Blue Drill when it came to ouchiness, you know.
"BUT!" Cuba exclaimed, startling several of the people in the room again, "It's given me an idea. See, what if we pretend that we'll unleash Argentina on them if they don't comply?"
Cuba let the people here several seconds to let the depths of his genius sink in and realize what a truly decent idea it was before he looked back at Argentina, who was staring at him without saying a word.
"Santi, I know we both agree that your craziness is not a weapon, but we're not using it as a weapon. And it'll be a one-time thing, I promise." Cuba said in a serious stone before trying not to break into a full-blown grin again as he sent his longtime friend a reassuring smile. "Think, if we can trick these pendejos into believing that we won't hesitate to unleash you because the situation's that important, then they'll crack like an egg!"
Silence. Dead silence in the face of Cuba's sheer genius! Or at least that's what Cuba's hoping, 'cause he really couldn't tell if the looks everyone were giving him were 'Dios Mio, this guy is an idiot' or 'Holy Shit, this is genius!' kind of looks.
Man, while it was useful, sometimes it was kinda annoying having that hair covering most of his face. Sure, it'd be hard not to stare if Argentina let his face show for the whole wide world to see (and he didn't like doing that), but sometimes it's hard to tell what Argentina's feeling.
"It's simple, really." Cuba tried to assure him with a shiny smile, except he kind of forgot to brush his teeth this morning. "It'll just be- Hey! How about those spare birds you keep in the car? Maybe you can grab one and hide the real one on your person."
"He keeps more in his car?" Someone whispered to someone.
"Max." Argentina said again but with a firmer tone that made Cuba freeze and stop what he's doing. To Cuba's surprise, "It's all right, really. I'll do it, no objections."
Cuba wasn't expecting that answer, especially. He blinked, and then he gawked. "Wait, you actually don't mind?"
"It's for an important cause, Max. We have no time to waste." Argentina stated softly, looking pointedly at Cuba before nuzzling his ovenbird against his cheek. "As long as it doesn't involve me dropping my precious friend, or anything extremely immoral, it has my seal of approval."
Cuba smiled gratefully at him. That's Argentina for you, one of the most considerate and understanding people you'll ever meet.
Feeling a big boost of confidence knowing that Argentina approved, Cuba turned his dazzlingly smile to the rest of the people present. "Alright, boys, listen up good! Here's what we're gonna do…
/ / / / /
Even in the warmth and comfort of his own house, Iceland felt nothing short of depressed.
The blonde with the eye patch over his left eye sighed and slumped back into his big, comfy chair. He curled up in his blankets as he frowned at nothing in particular while staring off out the window. It's dark out. Like, dark dark out. He slipped further into his blankets, frown deepening.
In this world, the sky's always dark no matter what. But people could always rely on the sun to go about their everyday lives without stepping on each other's toes, even though sometimes it wasn't enough for a place like Iceland. It's during nighttime where things would get pretty difficult. The moon couldn't light up the sky like the sun could for some reason science-y reason. It kind of sucked.
And a country like Iceland, who only had a few hours of daylight in the coldest months of the year, it sucked even more.
But that's not why he's all sad and frowny. Who cares about that? He's gotten used to it for centuries. No, no, no! The problem is with, y'know, the Italy situation, as everyone's basically calling it. Or for the more grumpy negative nations: The beginning of the end.
Gosh, why do people have to be so negative?
Well, it's not like Iceland's being that much better than them. But he's more depressed than pessimistic, pessimism's for clowns. I mean, of course things will get better eventually… right?
Iceland shivered, feeling very cold all of a sudden, and his place could be one of the coldest places you'll ever find.
Golly. One week and Iceland's missed the good old times already.
But that thought caused some old memories to resurface, and Iceland felt his face break into a wide fond smile. Ohhh, boy. The things he'd do to relive old times again! Too bad most of them were illegal.
Iceland sighed dreamily. Ahhhh…. It felt like it was only like eighty years ago… maybe because it was eighty years ago, but whatevs! He'll never forget the adventure where not only did he make his very first real bad guy friend, but his very first real good guy friend! Not to mention the rest of the clowns too! Not only did he finally have made friend with people that appreciated his art of villainy, but they helped him improve his life a lot.
And it all did with one thing. The bane of all evil, the worst pesticide for any villainous urges, the dangerous spell that even Big Brother didn't have a counter for, the very thing any true villain despised with a fiery passion…
Kindness.
Ohhh, Iceland tried to stay strong for the sake of their evil team, his very first evil team no less, but the power of kindness and the promise of Romano teaching him how to get a better haircut was too much! No one's ever complimented his eye patch before, or ever told him that his endless cheerfulness was truly admirable!
So, after feeling that warm fuzzy feeling in his heart that his big brother's warned him about for so long, Iceland then became a good guy!
And then after jumping through hoops and nearly helping cause the apocalypse, he got accepted into the Clown- I mean, Trinity Alliance! Cool, huh?
Well… Um… It wasn't all warm and fuzzy. And the whole journey wasn't… completely cool all the way. Iceland practically got kicked out of the Nordics when he officially sided with the enemy. Big brother hated him now. Not that ever paid that much attention to Iceland in the first place, but still. And a bunch of other stuff happened too, but that's some reminiscing for another day.
Iceland wished he and everyone else could forget about this whole situation, or that it'd magically disappear like Norway's love for him.
Even when people smiled and laughed as they tried to just forget about that and have fun before the next close call came around, no one could truly really forget all the troubles and problems in the world of politics. They could distract themselves, but they, the nations, couldn't forget. No matter how much they wanted to.
But it's not like he's selfish or anything. He totally understood how important and fragile the situation was and what would happen if... i-if things fell apart. It's actually something Iceland's trying hard not to think about. And it's not like it's something that's not haunting him on a daily basis too. Couldn't you see he's worried too?!
Iceland wanted to do something, he wished that there's something he could do about it instead of curling up in his blankets and be all wishy-washy while America's dealing with all the stress and pressure.
Iceland sniffled. But what could he do?
/ / / / /
Well, well, it looked like Argentina was right to send everyone that message.
If Lithuania didn't know any better, he'd say he spied with his little eye some sneaky spies that need to die.
Heh. Well, how about that? That rhymed. Wonder if America would like that one.
The dark-haired Baltic smirked, but the expression morphed back into a narrow-eyed stare accompanied by a scowl as he spied through his binoculars. No, this wasn't the time to start cracking jokes, even if he did have a habit of becoming a little unhinged whenever he's angry. It was already out of character for him. This was serious. And he's truly pissed at these dumbass humans, too much to even make a humorous remark or anything like that.
With this in mind, Lithuania pulled down his cap and, his eyes fixed on the small group of humans currently too absorbed into their little argument to even care to worry that someone might be following them. He sneered. Typical humans; always guided by their emotions and nothing else.
Also, he really wanted to fight someone, preferably those little shits down there since they think they're oh so brave for breaching his country's security for unknown ends. Yes, some gratuitous bloodshed and as America would put it 'asskicking' would definitely put him in a much more agreeable mood.
But no… no, no, no, no, that wouldn't exactly be the wisest course of action. If he attacked now in a blind and reckless rage, one might slip by and notify Italy. And they couldn't have that now, could they?
No. The wise thing to do would be to wait in the shadows and follow those stupid Italians until he saw the perfect opportunity to strike. Besides, it'll be the perfect chance to observe these spies and see what their goal was. He might get answers that a direct interrogation wouldn't give him.
Distractedly, he wondered if the Trinity Alliance were the only one's dealing with this crap. Sure, they're the biggest obstacle in Italy's path for conquest and whatnot, but they're not the only obstacle. Russia was just as big of an enemy toward Italy as, say, America was, even though they've clashed less times than the latter two did.
Lithuania sincerely hoped Russia or Poland's going through the same thing, it'd at least give him some comfort that they won't be able to sit back and let the 'good guys' go through all this trouble or suffer. The thought of that mental image made Lithuania see red for a brief moment, and his hands briefly went to his sword, before he inhaled sharply and calmed himself before he'd do something he'd regret.
Lashing out or destroying anything he found while in a rage won't do him any good. He had learned that a long time ago. But why did it have to feel so tempting and easy to do…?
Hell, even being told that Belarus was going through this trouble would give him some comfort. Although, with her level of intelligence, she won't be able to do a thing about them without worrying about what 'big brother' will think.
He sneered hatefully at the thought of that woman. He never liked her, that oh so poor, massively delusional, ridiculously stupid and annoying waste of space. Words truly couldn't express how much she wanted to see her burn as everything fell apart around her and the realization that everything in her made-up fairytale land was just that, not real, slowly and painfully killed her. It'd serve her right for what she-
Lithuania almost jumped when he heard his phone ring. "Wha-"
Someone was calling him now of all times? No, scratch that. Why's it even ringing?! Dammit! He could've sworn he put it on vibrate! Whoever's calling better have a damn good reason for almost blowing his cover.
He threw a quick anxious glance at the humans. Lithuania was situated at a far enough distance to not attract any attention from the humans. Still, noise was noise. And noise could obviously be detrimental to a stealth mission. So, he felt himself pale as he hastily tried to get it to shut up.
Lithuania checked the number,
"What do you want, Latvia? I'm busy here, you know!"
"Nice to hear from you again too, Leonas," Latvia grumbled sarcastically. "God, it's no wonder your social life is virtually nonexistent."
"What do you want?" Lithuania gritted it out through his teeth whiles his eyes flickered over to his targets.
"Oh, relax. It's important, honest." He could just see Latvia roll his eyes as he said that, but that past part did manage to grab his attention. "I'd get Estonia to do it for me, but you know he's hopeless with technology."
Lithuania was sure he heard Estonia bark 'Am not!' in the background, but he ignored that. "What do you mean, important?"
"I'll do that in a short moment. First, allow me to entertain you with the backstory."
Lithuania barely kept himself from groaning loudly for the whole town to hear. "No. You're terrible at giving exposition, and my targets are getting away from me. Unless it's something that really needs my attention, you can save it for later."
"It is important." Latvia hissed.
"Then get to the damn point." Lithuania hissed back.
"ALRIGHT!" Latvia shouted in Lithuania's ear, and he had cringe away from his neighbor's delightful voice while checking if anyone heard that. "Well, since you're so adamant on supporting the Alliance and Italy's becoming even more unbearable than usual, Estonia and I have been doing some digging, preferably to get you out of this mess as soon as possible."
Lithuania tapped his fingers on the phone with a growl. "I thought you said you were going to get straight to the point."
"This is part of the point!"
"Oh, God."
"Oh, shut up." Latvia snapped at him, and Lithuania. "And don't think I didn't hear that facepalm! But anyway, we were searching for information, even on the damn computer after Estonia remembered which button was supposed to turn it on. And eventually, we did find something interesting regarding Italy, something you might want to share with your fellow merry men…"
Lithuania listened with full attention. But he found that the more he listened, the more he felt himself too shocked to properly pay attention.
He didn't even listen to Latvia's demands for him to respond. All Lithuania managed was a quick thank you before hanging up.
So... he and Argentina weren't the only ones after all...
"Damn it. I need to share this with the others…" Lithuania muttered to himself as he glanced back to the humans. His hand found its way to the sheath of his sword. But first…
But first, he needed to take care of that matter. And just because he's in a hurry, it doesn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself for a little while…
/ / / / /
Oh, my, people's various different gods. Argentina's right! There were Italians here in town! Ooh! Wonder if they brought marinara sauce with them.
Singapore's eyes sparkled as she spied with her trusty binoculars. The Italians were right in one of the apartment rooms, just where she could see them. Good thing they didn't close the drapes, huh?
It's not often that Italians visited her fantastic and completely underrated country. In fact, like, so few Italians ever visit her country period. Hm, it might have something to do that she's one their leader's sworn enemies and Italy might be a little upset to find his people anywhere near them… or maybe's it's all the crowds, the lack of bizarre skyscrapers and the stinky but totally decreasing slums on the outer skirts…
…It's totally the Disneyland thing, wasn't it? Ugh, she really should've fought harder to make it happen!
She didn't get it. Her home's doing, like, awesome progress in the agnostically… er… anesthetic…. Oh! She meant aesthetically pleasing. She's doing a great job improving her country and making it even more aesthetically pleasing! Singapore puffed her chest proudly. How's that for a ditz, eh, Indonesia?
Singapore's been getting a lot of help from the Alliance, especially America, and they've been helping her how to stand on her own two feet too. Even Mister India, that grumpy mean old man, was helping out. Ooh! And America especially had been giving her tons of ideas for architecture projects and how to improve her economy. And guess what? They've been working out pretty well for someone who spent his time beating up people than working on projects!
Wonder why he tried to punch her after she said that in front of him though…
Sure, there's still the problem of a couple slums here and there, the crime rate hadn't lowered in six months now, she's running into a bit of trouble with the ethnic groups, and she's nowhere near as rich like Mister India or Saudi Arabia were… But progress was progress! Singapore just knew that with enough time, everything will be A-Okay!
But, hey, there's more to a tourist spot than weird buildings, amusement parks. Just because she's the size of a speck of dirt (ha-ha, Philippines), doesn't mean that there's not tons of interesting places to explore!
Singapore would even have a lot more time to find new fun places if it didn't get her staff mad over skipping work.
Wait a minute. Her staff… paperwork…
Oh. Right. She ditched morning paperwork to go practicing track, didn't she? Singapore deflated dejectedly to the floor. Aw, nuts! She was so looking forward to trying out that new trapeze move she was working on!
Well, there's only one way to solve this. She's gonna have to stop being a lazy bum, get her ass off the floor and do her job as Malaysia would probably tell her.
Smiling as her mind was made; Singapore retreated a few steps back and got into position. She formed her fingers into a frame and closed one of her eyes as she tried to figure out how much she needed to…
Ah! Yeah, that should do it. She could totally make that jump.
With that knowledge, Singapore then sprinted forwards as fast as her feet could, and as she reached the edge of the roof, she jumped…
The through some acrobatic maneuvering and skills (that was the right way to call it, right), she prevented herself from plunging to her temporary doom…
…And landed right on the porch.
And why didn't she just enter the apartment room the normal easy way which wouldn't need any real effort 'cause she's a nation?
Because that'd be way too boring!
Not wasting any time beaming over her once again success with her dangerous stunts, Singapore shattered the glass barring her from going inside easily with a chair. But by the time she had appeared on the porch, she had already alerted the Italians inside the apartment
Wow. They're good.
Didn't really stop from entering inside though. Okay, time to greet the villains!
"Hello, ni hao, and apa kabar! I am the wonderful and amazing Singapore!" Singapore proclaimed with her loud voice beaming with pride while puffing her chest. She then grinned mischievously and pointed her index finger at the scared humans… dramatically! "And you are all enemies of the Trinity Alliance work for that jerk Italy."
Wow, she sounded so cool!
"So, prepare to be brought to justice!" She declared as she shifted her non-dominant foot, preparing to lunge, as her grin turned into a sheepish smile. "…And quite possibly be crippled for the rest of your lives! I tend to get a little carried sometimes."
But hey, if it did happen, then it's just part of their karma, right?
"Anyways… HI-YAH!"
/ / / / /
Whenever a personification came to mingle amongst their populace, either by having a friendly outing with their citizens as if they were an old friend to simply going out for a stroll, it was usually regarded as an interesting sight, even if catching their nation out in public happened to be common occurrence.
It was understandable to see why. They're practically celebrities, no, they're more than that. They're the leaders of their respective countries, and their word was law. They're strange beings of unexplained conception, some of which even had powers that evaded human understanding. The only details that were common knowledge were that they were immortal, meaning they'll always come back after getting killed, and that they represented the land and people.
They're a mystery, and their entire survival and well-being depended on these beings. One really couldn't but wonder what their nation could be doing at this time of day.
Then there's how the wide range of personalities and/or appearances of the national personifications of the world.
So, the humans in the area of where would have different reactions to seeing their enigmatic or weird leaders out in the open like a normal person. The usual reaction was stares, but it also depended on the reputation and the nation itself. The nation could be the greeter warmly by their citizens, or be met with wary or curious stares and suspicious murmurs...
For the inhabitants of Kuwait City, it was certainly the latter.
Walking at a leisurely and patient pace as the humans either stared in curiosity, confusion, awe or contempt, or whispered amongst themselves, Kuwait spared none of them a glance as he went on his daily stroll, this time into the more populated parts of his capital instead of an emptier place. He wore his usual blank expression
Hmm... It really was a nice day out.
Kuwait would've smiled pleasantly if he could, but his expression remained just a blank. However, if one looked closely, there was now a softness in his sole visible eye.
Yes. Eye. No plural.
His very appearance drew stares even from the people already used to him, but he didn't mind. He didn't quite blame them either. The nation itself knew that he looked... unusual. Kuwait looked like a young man, only a couple years above what his people considered the age of majority despite his real age. However, that wasn't the strange part... or at least that's what Kuwait hoped. He didn't forget to wipe the hot cocoa off his face again, didn't he...?
Good Iblis. That'd be just embarrassing. Bahrain would never let him hear the end of it.
Blinking twice, the Arab nation abruptly stopped his walk and robotically turned around, weirding out some spectators in the process, and checked his reflection on the glass of a store window, ignoring the startled customers and employees inside.
Nope! No chocolate. Kuwait made a pleased sound and turned back into his previous direction and continued on his merry way, happy with this knowledge.
Ah... Where was he? Ah, that's right, his appearance. Well, it's kind of unorthodox. But it's nothing disturbing. He resembled the rest of his family, particularly his brothers, in their complexion and facial structure, even sharing the same eye color as them. It was evidence that he really was related to his wonder big brother. His hair was unkempt and beginning to grow into medium-length right past his chin. Hm. Should he get a haircut…?
And that's where the normal part ends and the strangeness came in. To start, he had an eye patch over his left eye. It looked pretty cool on him in his opinion. Also, his right arm and his legs had long since been replaced by steel, stronger versions of them. So, that's probably why he stood out in a crowd.
You can thank an incident from back in the early years of his colonization for that, one that Kuwait was more than content to not think about. But big brother was kind, generous, despite how Kuwait didn't really trust him until that point. Yes, his big brother's truly kind, even to someone as undeserving of that said as Kuwait.
That was one of the main reasons why he didn't care what his or anyone's humans thought of his unnatural appearance. He did not care what anyone thought of it, except for his elder brother himself. No. Kuwait was proud to have the physical proof of his elder brother's boundless compassion and goodwill permanently remain a part of him, as well as to show his triumph over his past struggles and traumas.
And, well, there's not much point in getting attached to humans. While Kuwait did encounter the occasional outstanding good citizen and end up befriending the person despite it all, it'd be better if he didn't spend so much time becoming close to them.
"Look, papa! Look! It's Kuwait!" A little human boy squealed in delight for some reason as Kuwait walked by the little human, his Saluki dog and his parents.
Said nation ignored the child and kept walking with his gaze set in front of him, steel boots clanking with each step, despite how the little human child kept calling and waving for his attention. Kuwait had nothing against children, but he did not feel compelled to respond to the little one.
As Bahrain would say, they're nations, not celebrities. They're not crowd-pleasers, they're leaders and protectors.
"Hmph. Don't even bother, son." Kuwait heard boy's father harrumph and the nation managed to catch the man giving him a look of disdain. The nation was unbothered. "Kuwait doesn't listen to voices of the people. Now come on, we need to grt going."
"But Khalil-"
"No. It's it own fault for wandering off."
"But Mama, I don't want to leave-"
"We don't have time to catch that little mutt. We're going to be late for..." And the voices trailed off as they vanished from Kuwait's hearing range.
But that wasn't the end of it.
Kuwait's attention was finally grabbed when he felt something soft, furry and fluffly brush his boots, but he wasn't startled. He merely blinked in dull surprise when he saw the puppy from earlier pant and bark excitedly at him.
Kuwait's lips twitched, which was the same as a smile to anyone in his family. A doggie. A doggie had ran up to him. It's fluffy, poofy, and adoraboofy.
But he shouldn't get carried away. The doggie needed to be returned to its owner. Kuwait may ignore humans, but he wouldn't ignore them if there was real trouble. So, he walked over to the family, who already spotted him coming.
"I believe this is yours?" Kuwait asked unnecessarily, and he handed the cute pooch back to the awed child.
"Khalil!" The boy squealed as he took the dog from Kuwait. "Thank you, Kuwait!"
"It's a cute doggie." Kuwait commented earnestly with a twinkle in his eye in spite of the lack of emotion on his face.
"He is! Papa and mama let me keep him, even if he has to stay outside. But he's a great friend!"
"I'm sure he is."
Now then, it wouldn't do well if he left without parting a piece of advice. Although their demise was inevitable, it didn't mean they couldn't improve.
"And you, please refrain from doing irresponsible things in the future, regardless if you're in my presence or not." Kuwait coldly admonished the two adults, who cringed in fear. "I know it's forbidden for Muslims, but shouldn't treat your son's beloved friend so indifferently. And you would do well as parents to respect your child's decision to have a dog as his pet, especially seeing how he truly cares for it."
The two humans were too stunned, and maybe terrified, to respond or even much less retort to their nation. Kuwait gazed down again at the child and gently patted him on the head.
Children liked to be patted, right? Or was it horses…?
Regardless, Kuwait turned his back to them and went back on his merry way. He overheard the boy's excited squeals along with his parents fumbling on their words, but Kuwait didn't look back and went back to ignoring everyone around him again.
Not along as he continued on his stroll through the city, he heard a ringing in his head. Stopping in a more secluded location, Kuwait pressed two fingers to his ear.
"You are currently speaking to Kuwait. How may I be of assistance?" Kuwait intoned emotionlessly.
His ears caught the sound of shifting clothes and nervous murmurs. Kuwait immediately deduced who it was just as a nervous feminine voice spoke. "Do… Do you really have to talk like that, brother?"
"Ah. Salam, Qatar." Kuwait greeted politely with the same lifeless tone, although there, provided from the warmth to speaking to a family member. "How is your day?"
"S-Salam, Kuwait. But Please– Wa-Wait, how's my day?" Qatar repeated with something akin to surprise, and Kuwait would say she almost sounded overjoyed. "As a matter of fact, I-I'm doing great! I had little paperwork to do today, so I've had most of the day to myself!
Kuwait listened patiently and nodded along to Qatar's tale about her day, which sounded quite pleasant, especially for someone so busy like her. Whenever she's happy, she really liked to talk a lot, which while wasn't a problem for him, it was for some of their other siblings.
"But wait! That's not what I called you for!" Qatar suddenly exclaimed in obvious distress, to which Kuwait didn't even flinch to. "I'm sorry for rambling. It's just that this is important and-"
"What is it that you want to tell me?" Kuwait cut her off, preferring to get straight to the point before Qatar could go off rambling again.
"Well... I-It's about elder brother..."
"Hm?" Kuwait's visible eye blinked and he automatically pressed two fingers at his temple. His expression remained exactly as blank, but there suddenly an intense life in his eye. "Akh…?"
"Y-Yes. He wanted me to inform you that he'd like us to..."
...
"Understood. I'll be right there in an hour."
"H-Huh? Oh, that's sweet of you, but I was about to... Wait, you don't mean-"
"Yes. Please don't worry about me, I'll be careful not to crash into any planes.
"No. NO! Kuwait, please remember what happened the last time you-"
"Thank you for notifying me of this, Qatar. Goodbye."
"KUWAIT, NO-"
Beep. He ended up the call and stared up at the sky. It's time for Kuwait to blast off again.
/ / / / /
Gillen had absolutely no problem with spending the rest of the day helping Flavio better accept his decision to stay here and comfort him in his time of need. The same could of course be said for Allen.
For friends, especially for someone he considered family; he would do just about anything.
Unlike Allen, Gillen didn't feel anger and. Sadness, yes, along with other similar emotions. But he could never resent Flavio for not bringing himself to let go of his love for his brother and his guilt about the past, despite how it wasn't his fault that Italy was the nation he was today.
It would be hypocritical for him to do so, as despite how Gillen had since (mostly) given up, he too held a lot of regret and self-loathing for his brother turned out.
Germany was always and likely always will be Gillen's biggest regret. He never could understand what went wrong, or why things had to turn out the way they did. There were even times where Gillen wondered if it was even really he who was responsible, which was what Allen seemed to think so. But it always haunted him, pained him.
Could be there be another reason, buried deep down in his brother, that Gillen hadn't fathomed? Sadly, there's a chance he'll never know what it was, if there was one in the first place.
Gillen supposed that Allen harbored a similar feeling regarding his own brother, the feeling of regret and crushing failure, except the younger nation did the one thing neither Gillen or Flavio ever managed to bring themselves to do: He discarded what regret he felt, which never lasted quite that long in the first place, disowned his twin, and replaced what little compassion or love he had for him for scorching hatred.
Allen never seemed to lament over his relationship with Canada, not even once, instead preferring to spit at his name and curse his neighbor's very existence. It probably wouldn't be that surprising for one, since Allen had a much larger capacity for hatred and anger than Gillen or Flavio will ever have.
Still, despite the differences, they couldn't deny that they understood each other. They all knew what it was like to have a brother that they felt they disappointed.
He- Both of them did their very best to support and comfort Flavio in his sorrow and grief, even as much as Allen liked to think he was no good at 'that mushy kind of stuff'. The redhead would provide words of encouragement or 'pep-talk', even if it sometimes riddled with curses and Flavio weakly pulled his ear for it, while Gillen would do what he's always done in all the years he's been friends with Flavio and reassure him that everything will be alright.
Eventually all their hardships had to end eventually, right?
Gillen pondered over all this as he cleaned the dishes. At first, Flavio had insisted to do them instead, if only to distract himself, but Allen figured it'd be better if he tried his usual methods of cheering his older brother figure up and dragged him away as far away from anywhere with knives as possible.
He didn't necessarily want to do this. Gillen would much rather be there for Flavio. But he might as well clean up so that they'll have free time.
He would've finished it in a few minutes, if he didn't hear the living room phone ring. Gillen froze in the middle of putting some plates away, and he looked around, then remembering that Allen and Flavio were in another floor and likely couldn't hear the phone.
Who could it be this time? A part of Gillen hoped it was Alfred, possibly having forgotten something, since God knows that his positivity could really help Flavio out. But he pushed such thoughts away, dried his hands, and went to answer the phone.
"You are calling America's residence. This is the nation of Prussia speaking." He spoke politely.
"Oh, Prussia? Is that you, old chap?"
Gillen nearly stumbled in shock at the unexpected voice that reached his ear. It was a voice he never thought he'd hear these days.
"E-England?" Gillen practically found himself growling, something usually reserved those he especially resented.
"Yes, it is I! How have you been, Gillen?" The Englishman's chipper voice greeted with gleefully, and Gillen could just see the smile the man was no doubt wearing right now. "I was actually hoping for Allie to pick up… But you know what? There's something wrong with chatting with an old friend."
Disgusted, Gillen refused to play along and went straight to the point. "What do you want, England?"
"What?" England squawked, sounding mockingly offended. "That's what you want to ask me? No, 'I'm doing well, Ollie, how about you?', or 'Why, just peachy, Oliver? How has life been for you? Made any new recipes?"
"Ah, I deeply apologize. Allow me to rephrase my earlier question," Gillen cleared his throat, and spoke darkly. "Tell me, England, what reason could you have for calling me that won't make my hang up immediately?"
"Well! Touchy, are we?" England giggled horribly, and Gillen grimaced.
"I am serious, England. What could-"
"Oh, calm down! It's just a bloody phone call, not an attempt on your lives and sanity!" The Englishman suddenly snapped at him, startling Prussia, who mused that in hindsight, he should've expected such a reaction from him. After a moment of silence, England's giggling was heard. "Ah, sorry about that, got a little exasperated there. But anyway, I do have a very good reason for calling, Gillen."
"And what would that be?" Gillen demanded coldly.
"Why, allow me explain! To begin with, I think Italy is becoming a lot more reckless than we ever could have foreseen."
/ / / / /
To Cuba's surprise (not!), his little plan worked.
The people they rounded up here were no pushovers, Cuba'll give them that. But they still looked terrified more than anything else, and it sure as hell wasn't at Tina or Cuba's imposing figure. It's Italy. Not that Cuba could really blame them. That guy kept them in line with fear, and there's no doubt that he's shown his humans what would happen to them if they ever betrayed him…
But none of that would matter if they knew what Argentina was capable of and saw that there's no way they'll hesitate to let him loose on them, wink wink. It's so bad that no one's who's ever seen what he does could ever explain it without… y'know… breaking down.
Seriously, someone actually thought that's a good idea?
"Please, believe me when I say that I'm enjoying the situation we all are in right now." Argentina spoke up softly to the group of Italians tied to chairs, his hands clasped together as if he's pleading someone to forgive him. "I don't like torture. I don't like hurting people in any way. And I definitely don't like how terrified you all are."
Cuba watched Argentina say his usual last offer for a non-violent, all the while trying his best to look cool and, y'know, just stand there… menacingly. Did he look menacing enough? Yeah, he totally looked menacing enough.
"I do mean it when I say that we'll do our best to provide you with high security. I know you've already been told by the other agents, but remember that we'll provide you with protection if you work with us here. We'll make sure that Italy never manages to assassinate you or anything of the sort.
Argentina paused, stopping to take a deep breath. Cuba reckoned that his buddy's a little nervous about the role he had to play here. If they wanted this plan to work, it's obvious they had to make it look completely convincing. Make them think they'd actually go that far for information.
Cuba just hoped they'll believe that Argentina's wrath was worse than Italy's.
"It pains me to say this… But if you refuse to comply with our demands, then you'll leave me no choice." Argentina bowed his head even lower, and for a moment, Cuba could've sworn he caught of glimpse of pearly white teeth clenched together. "I'll have to go berserk, go on a rampage and strangle the answers I want out of you…"
To emphasize his point, Argentina wrapped one of his hands around his own neck, squeezing it so much that it started to worry Cuba.
"I think you should know what that means. Everyone does." Argentina whispered harshly.
"Si, surely you've heard of Tina's legendary rampages." Cuba felt the corners of his mouth curl up in a mischievous grin, while Argentina shared none of his eagerness. "You know how it goes. Some poor human messes up and causes Argentina to lose or drop his stuffed amigo, and then what happens? Snap. His mind snaps, that's what."
"Si, si… CrrrrRACK! CRUNCH! SNAP! That is the sound you hear when your mind breaks… before it falls apart completely." Argentina said eerily, as if he was simply listing off a simple fun fact, while playing with his spare ovenbird. Cuba's grin became a little strained at just how creepy Argetina was being.
O…Okay, Tina? Tina? You're doing great, but… could you tone it down a little? You're creeping out even the head of the interrogation. Plus, Cuba was pretty sure that one of the Italians just wet themselves… and shit themselves… Yuck.
"And it all happens in the span of seconds before…" Argentina trailed off, cocking his head to the side with his visible eye as wide as it could be. "…Before the real crack, crunch and snap begins. Before the carnage begins."
Trying not to gulp, Cuba pushed down his nerves and grinned at the humans, who were thankfully as close to shitting their pants as he was. "Well? What's it gonna be, muchachos?"
Argentina dug into his pocket and brought one an ovenbird doll – the 'fake' ovenbird doll – and held it out.
Come on…
Argentina's grip on it started to loosen, and the humans screamed at him to stop.
This had to work.
One by one, Argentina slowly started removing his fingers from his fingers.
It just had to.
The screaming were getting louder. The only thing stopping the ovenbird from plummeting to the floor was two fingers grabbing its wing.
Almost…
Argentina lifted it up further, making it look like he's finally gonna-
"THE RUINS!" One of them, brownish, probably full-blooded Sicilian, guy cried out miserably. "The R-R-Ruins of Quilmes! He wanted us to go investigate the- the- the ruins!"
Silence fell on the room right after that confession. Cuba took a glance toward Argentina, and his buddy was scary still as a statue, his visible eye looking even creepier than usual. With good reason too, Tina had a very personal history with that place.
"…What about the Ruins of Quilmes?" Cuba asked baffledly, scratching his chin. What the hell would Italy want there?
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