The soulful voice was drifting through the halls from a mahogany-made door with a silver handle. The countries looked among themselves then back to the door. Should they? Well, there was the issue of the recently-discovered, hyper, over-protective father that was America and if it is something they shouldn't see then no one really wanted to be staring straight at the bullet end of his shotgun. However, that music was borderline angelic that it actually shocked the countries behind the door. Maybe just a peek would be suitable. And hopefully not life-threatening.
Germany cautiously opened turned the knob and proceeded to push open the door just an inch that allowed the countries at the front to peek in and from what the few who managed to crowd around could view there were a young girl and boy both with ebony black hair and brown eyes, however, the former had dark chocolate-colored skin while the latter was pale in appearance. It was the girl who was singing and the countries were nearly entranced with her angelic voice it was delicate and soft but still matched the style of music that flowed throughout the room by the boy who was strumming a crimson-colored rhythm guitar.
The music drifted around them and swayed the countries, something they never thought possible as it was clearly American music that they were singing and they never thought that it could beautiful. Perhaps it was just the girl singing. Her voice was like a nightingale's.
They wanted a closer look, however, unfortunately, they fell straight into the room startling the boy and girl who immediately halted what they were doing to look at the intruders. The girl immediately turned bright red but tried to give an awkward smile as she started to play with the hem of her orange, single-breasted dress. The boy, meanwhile, walked over and held out to help the countries.
"Can we help ya gentlemen?" the boy said, slinging his guitar over his shoulder. They saw he was wearing a white button-up and gray pants with a pair of work boots.
"Wow, you guys were really good!" Italy Veneziano cried, completely disregarding his question. "Especially you, bella. You could be in opera with a voice like that."
She turned much brighter but muttered a small 'thank you' in a thick Southern accent. "I should leave y'all alone," she said before grabbing a white guitar case with a black leather jacket draped across.
"Aw...you can't stay longer?" Italy Veneziano continued.
"Yeah, um...Bye," she said before racing out.
That was weird. They didn't even find out the girl's name before she took off. Honestly, a few were offended. She could've at least said hi and not act like they had the plague...Okay, they did. But that was a long time ago.
"Don't mind her," the boy said as he must've seen their looks as they aren't as discreet as they liked to think they are. Especially in England. "She's a bit shy, especially around strange folks." Rude. "Anyway, I'm Tennessee or Dylan Glen if you want and that was Clementine, the State of Mississippi. Welcome to our house and I hope y'all make yourselves at home." He then gave a little chuckle. "Actually, I wished I had known you was standing there and I would've had us quit with all that racket."
"Don't worry about it," Italy said, coming up and roughly shook Tennessee's hand. "You and your sister are very good."
"Why thank ya sir," Tennessee said with a pained smile, as he tried to pull his arm away from Italy's death grip.
"ITALY! You're breaking off his circulation," Germany cried.
"Oh sorry, Tennee. Can I call you Tennee?" Italy says as he releases poor Tennessee's hand that was now being rubbed by its owner.
Tennessee looked up and shook his head, "Sorry. It's already bad enough that the others call me Dil."
"Aw...But your name's so long," Italy replies.
"I guess you'd have to blame my auntie for that," Tennessee said as he went over to one of the couches and pulled out a cigarette and lit it before smoking it. "Anyways, would ya'll like a seat? Maybe a drink of lemonade or..."
"That would be unnecessary," Germany said in a commanding tone that made Tennessee lookup.
"Okay. Don't be so formal. Could've just said no." Germany blushed a bit at this. Yes, he knew he was very staunch and proper but he couldn't help it. He was raised to be like this. He sighed. Maybe that was the reason he couldn't make friends outside his family for so long. Honestly, Germany knew it was pure luck that Italy and Japan wanted to be his friends,' especially after the Second World War.
He sighed. "My apologies, Tennessee," he muttered with a blush on his face.
"It's fine, sir," the boy said. "So what do ya'll think of us?"
"Excuse me?" Spain asks.
"Well, I'm just assuming you met some of my siblings on your way here and call it curiosity I suppose, but I wanna know what ya'll think of me and my kin," Tennessee clarified.
The nations looked among themselves. From the looks on their faces, they seemed to all be thinking the same thing. So far the states seemed like their father. Loud, obnoxious, and constantly getting into messes and yet they couldn't say it. Maybe it was the fear of their shotgun-loving father that silenced their tongues or the fact this kid was just so calm that it was a bit unnerving.
"If you worrying about me telling pa, don't be," the Southern-accented voice of Tennessee rang out. "I ain't some snitch."
"Why do you care what we think of you all?" Germany asks in his gruff tone.
Tennessee shrugs. "Curiosity, I suppose. We don't get many guests here due to how overprotective Pa is. Can't say I blame him though." The teenaged-looking state looks down, almost contemplating something. As the nations were about to ask him, he shook his head before looking up at the assembly before him. "So what do y'all think?"
Silence enveloped the music room as the nations still unsure what to make of the Southern state. He seemed polite and nice enough. However, if one were to live as long as the countries then they would know that looks are more often than not deceiving, so they were still rather hesitant to reveal their thoughts.
However, it was Italy Veneziano who spoke first, "Your siblings are...interesting."
"You don't have to lie. My siblings can be difficult," Tennessee said with nonchalance heavy in his voice. "We still can't celebrate Thanksgiving without it ending in a massive food fight and to this day we still find mash potatoes against the walls."
"Frankly, your father should learn how to control them," Germany grunted as the pain from that black-haired child's kick resurfaced. Seriously, how was that even possible?
Tennessee sighed. "Yeah. Maybe, but pa's always been on his own so it couldn't have been easy for him to grow up a bunch of rowdy states."
"Hmph...Still, if he's going to have all these children then the least he could do is make sure they aren't a bunch of beasts," England muttered loud enough to be heard by the ebony-haired state.
The nations shocked looked between the two, mostly out of fear given that the state may seem calm on the outside by he was still an American state. This was not reality however and the state just stared back with the same calm expression. Okay, now they were really scared. What the hell was going inside this kid's mind.
'God, I'm hoping the ladies finish lunch soon,' thought Tennessee. "Maybe, but from what I understand about ya'lls meetings, you really shouldn't be judging me and my siblings. Now should you?" Tennessee said with the slightest amount of venom on his tongue.
"...I suppose not," England reluctantly agreed.
"Okay," Tennessee said before he saw the faces on the countries around him. "Sorry to snap like that. Now, exactly the best impression I made. Now did I?" he said giving a nice but nervous-looking smile.
"It was a little...bipolar," Italy Veneziano said when the door suddenly burst open and there stood a very angry American father with a shotgun with an expression that said, 'I'm gonna kill you all slowly'. I'm guessing you already know who this is. I hope the countries already wrote their wills.
"Howdy, Pa," Tennessee said in a nonchalant tone.
"What the hell have you all been saying to my baby boy?" America said in a rather frightening and I think Italy is trying to flee to Mexico. As for the rest of the countries, they were now standing frozen as their eyes pleaded with the state who just rolled his eyes at his father's display of overprotectiveness.
"We were talkin' about the house," Tennessee lied which caused the countries to silently thank him as America's attitude shifted from trying to maim them all to his typical gigawatt smile.
"Oh cool, so what have you told them so far, my little dude?" America asked.
Tennessee shrugged before saying, "I was just about to talk about how you built this house."
"Awesome isn't it. 60 rooms and 6 stories high with about 500 acres around and it came from this guy," America bragged as he continued to list off the different rooms that the large house held, including the game room, three conference room for the states to hold their meetings, a huge living room that they had already seen, and even a pool that they put in the fifties for the states in case they are water-based or deprived. Well, it may sound annoying but at least no one was peeing their pants from the fear of being nuked. And it was actually rather shocking. America built this house? Ever since they got here, they thought little about the actual house itself and if they did they just assumed that one of America's people created it for him after his revolution since he couldn't very well live in the one England built for him. It wasn't even a thought in their heads that America had been the one to have built this estate. Even Finland who had been the one to teach a young America to build log cabins was shocked that he had managed to build something like this.
"Really, America?" Italy asked in an interested tone.
America nods in response. "All by myself."
"All by yourself?" Tennessee asks an annoyed tone, prevalent on his tongue.
"Okay fine, it may have taken a few...decades," Alfred replied bitterly.
Tennessee smiled. "Yup. The thirteen actually said it started as a one-room log cabin after the Revolution. Couldn't have been all that comfortable," he finished out loud.
"It really wasn't," America confirmed. "Anyway, where's Mississippi?"
"She left a couple of minutes ag-" Tennessee began.
"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU BASTARDS DO TO MY DAUGHTER!?" America cried as he nearly flung himself at the countries assembled to meet the states, barely being held back by Tennessee.
"PA! PA! Come on! You know how damned shy Missy is!" Tennessee exclaimed trying to keep his father from causing an international incident. It's happened before. It's best not to get into it is we don't want this turn political. Again.
At hearing these words, America finally settled down enough that he wasn't actively trying to destroy their guest though he was still sending them a death glare. "So where did she go then?" America asks.
"Probably to the garden as usual. You know how she likes to sing in the Greenhouse," Tennessee shrugged before turning to the assembly. "Hey, maybe that's where ya'll should go next. The young'uns and Midwestern states are usually pretty polite."
"I'll believe it when I see it," England muttered before realizing that the halfway insane manchild he raised was in his general proximity and could probably hear him. Luckily, but seriously Iggy, do you want to die? (England: Don't call me Iggy. And no.)
Just at the moment came a loud crash from outside the music room. "GIVE BACK TOLEDO, YOU STINKIN' BITCH!"
"NEVER! IT'S MINE!" Came another female voice which caused America to smack his forehead before heading out of the music room to deal with the two female voices.
"I thought those two weren't allowed to be in the same wing anymore," Tennessee wondered out loud.
The nations were about to just ignore the nuttiness when a girl was thrown into the music room.
Author's Note: If you know anything about Toledo, you probably already which two are up next. And here's actually a fun fact. Here, Tennessee is named Dylan Glen after my Tennesse-born great-grandfather Glen Dylan. He passed some time ago, but I wanted his memory to live on in some way so that's how this version of Tennessee was born.
